Heroes of the Day

[Chuck Carmichael] [Let's get it out of the way. Aware.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] [Ooh, good idea.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Emily Littleton] [Aware: The dice pool Kahseeno uses to fuck with Emily *shakes fist, rolls anyway*]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] There's an old, obviously disused auto repair shop tucked away at the back of a small lot on a street in Bronzeville. It's not the most salubrious of neighbourhoods, nor is it the most salubrious of buildings, but there's an actual paved parking lot (even if it's not very big) and today, that bit of parking lot is seeing some activity for the first time in what looks like years. Though it's not the kind of activity one might expect - it's a blue VW Beetle done up to look TARDIS-like with a U-Haul trailer attached to the back. That's not enough moving-in stuff to be reopening the shop for business. Apparently, someone intends to live in this disused building.

That 'someone' is a shaggy-haired cybergoth girl with glasses, black stompy boots, black jeans and a T-shirt that reads "THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE 127.0.0.1". She steps out of the car and surveys her little dominion as she waits for her enlisted 'moving help' to show up. Of course, she's only given him an address so far. She's looking forward to the look on his face when he sees where she's chosen to live.

[Emily Littleton] It's a warm day, pushing toward intolerable. It's hot and humid, the sort of weather than lets perspiration stand on skin, lets it bead up and roll down the back of your neck, pool in the small of your back, get into the corners of your eyes. It's the sort of damp heat that Emily associates with places not-here, and countries without screens on their windows. At least in Chicago one could almost always count on a breeze, a warm push of air to stir around all the stagnation and make it seem clear again. It's hot enough to burn through the momentary inertia that keeps them all going in an early afternoon. It's lazy weather: a midwestern summer.

There is a shelter not far from this auto shop. The building is not in much better repair. The city does not have the funds to run it and fix it up, so it runs, and it runs itself into the ground more and more with each passing rainstorm, each needy patron looking for a handout (seeking sanctuary). The path from the bus stop to the shelter takes one past the auto repair shop. It's been empty for so long, that Emily pays it little mind as she walks.

Little mind until she realizes that it is not so empty, today. Not so vacant and reduced to disuse.

Emily is tall. She stands five-foot-nine (nearing two meters). Today, she's wearing jeans and a polo shirt, a typical summer attire. It's a pale pink, and her messenger bag's strap crosses it from shoulder-to hip. Her dark hair is tied back in a bundle of loose curls (more like waves, today, in the heat and humidity). She's not remarkable in anything save that she seems very out of place here. Her posture is a little too straight, her head held a bit too proudly. And there is, too, that feeling of Otherness that pervades her pattern, sets her apart before she so much as opens her mouth.

Her footsteps slow, and she watches the flurry of activity in the parking lot with some interest. Curiosity. Not much more.

[Chuck Carmichael] There's Chuck in his Ford Fusion, complete with Sync action that he's hacked himself - right on time, or pretty close to. He doesn't judge the location of choice, has no reason to; few can account for his decision to live in a condo building in Cabrini Green where English may well be the least spoken language, and he helps Riley and Nico bring the average age down by at least a decade.

"My, isn't this embarrassing?"

How cute, they're wearing the same shirt, though Chuck's is red with black print. And Chuck, being Chuck, is teasing. Of course he is! It's what he does, and Riley's assessment of the gravity of matters hadn't been far off, when she'd tuned in immediately to how serious he was the day before, but that's neither here nor there. First things first, there's a cooler full of two six packs of cold beer pulled from his cooler, along with some fruit and veggies and other diabetic-friendly snacks, just in case, and then?

"I'm all yours. How's the wiring in this place? Got good wifi?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly grins at Chuck when he gets out of his car and heads on over with a smile. "Just means you have good taste and a sufficient sense of irony. I mean, what else are we going to wear, when someone's settling into a new home?" She eyes the cooler curiously, obviously quite keen to open it and see what's inside ... and so she does, though she answers the questions at the same time. "Don't tease a girl like that, Chuck; you'll turn a head and break a heart, talk like that. But as to the wiring, it's aces. Remember, this place used to run medium-to-heavy machinery. They wired it sturdy. From what I've been able to ... erm, glean ... it's good. And for optimum wifi reception, I'm going to have to wire up an antenna or receiver to the top of a flagpole or something - I was thinking the NERV logo - and ... oh, hey, we've got an audience." This with a wave to Emily - she can feel, quite easily, the (...Mozart's Requiem?...) resonance from the young lady on the pavement.

[Emily Littleton] The car that pulls into the lot right in front of Emily is familiar. It's not the Geek Squad-mobile, but it's definitely tied to a particular Cabrini Green resident in her mind. Chuck steps out, and he's flirtingly friendly with the fellow geek (who else would wear a shirt like that?).

They're talking about what to wear and what not to wear.

Emily waves back, disengaging her fingers from her messenger bag strap long enough to waggle them at Molly. Her smile broadens, just a bit. It's polite without straying too far into familiarity. Reserved. Paired with the resonance (grace [Reverence]) around her, it might speak to something. A girl could make assumptions.

She looks from Molly to Chuck, and there the gaze lingers a little longer -- recognition, in those deeply blue eyes -- then she's stepping on. Not meaning to intrude. There's a shelter, down the way, after all, and these two have plans it seems.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Aww, no way. I'm no heartbreaker - just everyone's friend. You'll see," he says with a grin and a shoulder-chuck, and with the familiar resonance and mention of an audience, he looks . . .

. . . just there, finds Emily, and grins wider. "C'mon over, you. What're you waiting for?" He appears to be the most open of their little cabal, and in some ways, perhaps he is - Emily knows an awful lot about him, after all, more than anyone else in the city (though Riley is catching up) at least. And, assuming Em does approach, she gets a grin, a brief arm around her shoulders and a kiss to the top of her head. "Em, this is Molly. Molly, this is Emily. I'll let you two do the rest."

So easy-going, the tall (so tall, even compared to Emily) VDept, so affable. Everyone's friend, indeed.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly throws a welcoming smile Emily's way as Chuck calls her over - a no, really, come on over and, assuming she does, the arm-around-the-shoulders and kiss gets a roll of the eyes and an impish grin. "Oh, I see how it is. If you don't top five-eight without platforms, you just don't get a look-in with Chuck. So sad. I am shut out of his affections by virtue of substandard height. Woe!" She's teasing. She ... is teasing, right? Certainly she doesn't look as though she'd mind comparable (at least) levels of affection from the Geek Squaddie.

Then she offers a hand to Emily. "Hey there. Any friend of Chuck's, as they say. Name's Molly Quincannon. Most dissonant of the dissonants in the happiest little cult of personality around." It's clue enough - they're on the street, after all. "And just about to move into new digs. Want to join the moving party? Chuck brought beer! And ... health food! Great Google, man, you're going to be disappointed as hell in my eating habits. I'm going to have to stock up on health food just to feed you when you visit!"

Then she ponders. "Everyone's friend, hmm? That include Lara ... Wrathburn, isn't it?" This spoken to include both of them, in tones that suggests there might be more to that line of inquiry than her screamingly obvious curiosity. (Obvious in that even as she speaks, she's peering into the backseat of Chuck's car to see what's in there.)

[Emily Littleton] [Subterfuge: Everyone's friend, even Lara? Oh, my, isn't that lovely?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Emily Littleton] Chuck's arm slides around her, and it's evident in Emily's reaction that this is deeper than just a casual Chuck hello. Her smile warms a bit, and her arm slips around him as well. Hugs him for a moment as he kisses the top of her head. Then she disengages. She doesn't linger there.

Chuck is the most affable member of their little band of merry geeks (and Owen), but Emily is no stranger to the community at large. She's arguably better connected at this moment, but she plays her cards close to breast. She is guarded without seeming closed. She is extremely well practiced at it (Diplomat's daughter [Knight's charge]).

Emily shakes Molly's hand. It's a firm grasp, without being crushing. She's fined boned but not uncertain of herself. There's a polite incline of her head, too, that's more of a bow than anything else.

"Emily Littleton. It's a pleasure to meet you," she says, and that Otherness comes rushing forward in far more evident ways, now. Her accent is muddled, riddled through with places not here and not now, but most strongly it is British. There is no Midwest twang to it at all, no strange Chicagoan vowels.

"Congratulations on your new flat," she says, with a warmer note. Enthusiasm. There is something lighter about Emily, now, that Chuck will not doubt notice. "And, oh?" a query, a gently raised eyebrow. "Are we all friends of Lara's then?" she asks, as if she doesn't quite know the answer.

She doesn't give a nod to her Tradition of choice. Perhaps that, in and of itself, is enough.

"I hear she's been ousted from the white picket fence house, by Ashley. Any word on why?"

[Chuck Carmichael] In Chuck's back seat are an astounding number of diet Mountain Dew bottles, a duffle bag from which athletic things threaten to explode, a cheap stuffed animal won from some carnival's midway game and a laptop bag. Clipped to his rearview mirror is the Best Buy badge, and hanging from it is the irksome black tie - other than that, his car is neat.

"What you eat is what you eat, dude. I just have to watch it is all, and rather than expecting everyone to plan around me, I make sure I've got something in case I need it." He shrugs, always so laid-back, until mention of Lara, and that look from Em.

"Don't know Lara that well, but she seems alright. She's crashing at my place for a few nights, is all, and getting kicked out, she said, had something to do with letting you in, Miss Molly, without okaying it first. So, I dunno. Haven't talked to about it yet, and don't really plan on it unless it comes up. Why are we all so interested in Lara the Derby Girl Look-Alike?"

He doesn't get it. Sure, she's cute (for someone so tattooed and pierced), but Chuck's not particularly interested other than in his usual friendly, helpful way. It's just his thing, is all.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly opens her mouth to answer Emily, she really does. But when Chuck mentions that Lara's crashing at his place, she turns to him, looks him over very carefully, and says, "She ... didn't tell you. Oh Kibo on a crutch, she didn't tell you. Not about the Americana-house eviction - which was only a week and that 'cos she didn't bother to read the rules on security and brought me in without introing me to Ashley, which I gather is bad - but about ... oh, fuck. Tell me she told you. No, wait, don't. She's not ready to tell anyone yet, never mind that people not knowing could be dangerous!" She restrains herself from kicking Chuck's car, choosing instead to step over the few feet to the U-Haul and kicking the wheel on that instead.

Then she sighs. "Okay, I am calm. Tell me if she told you and if the answer is no, grab a box and haul it inside. Because you need to know if she didn't tell you and I'm not having this on the street, okay?" With that, she opens the U-Haul, tucks a computer case under her arm and stomps off towards the auto repair shop to unlock the door.

[Emily Littleton] "Ashley's big on the rules," Emily observes. It's almost idle, the way she says this. They way she's on a comfortable first name basis when talking about the Acting Deacon. Emily carries herself as much more than a newly-Awakened apprentice, now. There is a quiet confidence (surety) to it, now. Especially with Edom gone.

So it's quietly, and calmly, and with those kenely watchful and composed blue eyes that she observes Molly's outburst. It pinches the corner of her mouth (displeasure) and shades the hue of her eyes (concern).

"All right, then," she says, moving to pick up one of the lighter boxes or peripherals.. "I'm in. I was dropping by the shelter on a lark, anyhow."

Once Molly's headed toward the door, Emily casts Chuck a quick look. It's a WTF twined with a We need to talk/ There's a smile to it, too, as if she could sweep the sudden dire turn of conversation under the rug. But Emily doesn't seem perturbed just yet. It's possible that the Chorister in their group is finally rubbing of on her.

[Chuck Carmichael] Chuck is also on easy first name basis with the acting deacon, but for different reasons - and he is not an apprentice, so it's not as impressive. Regardless, all this gets a raised eyebrow and a shrug, and he says, "How am I supposed to know if she told me or not? I mean, I know she's bi and into my apprentice and would apparently not mind both of us, possibly at the same time." Which is weird enough for the very traditional (in that sense) Chuck. Sure, he's down for gay rights and free love for other people. He'll support his friends in the things that make them happy with his last breath, if necessary.

But what makes him happy is something very different than . . . well, than what seems to make most of the kids happy these days.

"Since she didn't tell me anything that made me make an emoticon face, I guess I'm grabbing a couple boxes." And he does so with a shrug - one reasonably sized box, one smaller, and the cooler, all careful with another person's belongings.

[Molly Quincannon] The auto shop is ... well, it's good sized, though what Molly's going to do with the big customer service counter in the middle of what ought to be her living room is anyone's guess. What Molly does upon entering and putting her box down is to launch herself up so that she's sitting on said customer service counter, shaking her head and sighing. "For the record, I never really got the hang of the level of multi-player Lara's talking about. Unless it's Strip Twister. Anyway. Look, I noticed something ... up with Lara, just before she got her week ban from the Chantry. I called her on it later, when she was wandering. Because seriously - she called out this Basil Gillingson guy, pulling rank like no Cultist ever would, and ... well, he nearly zapped her and it was all I could do to calm them both down. But ... even on short acquaintance ... that wasn't her, I thought. So I asked."

She runs her hands through her ragged hair and sighs. "And literally, that wasn't her. Before Lara ... well, got an Avatar, I'm not even sure I can say 'Awakened' in her case ... anyway, some Master did something that went badly wrong and her soul shattered, taking a bit of the Avatar with it. That lodged into Lara as she was then and started ... rewriting. She says that the body she has now - the appearance that she has now - is not the one she had before this, and that bits of her personality have been rewritten as well. It's not like she's got a second personality; it's like this other is writing over what's supposed to be read-only data, remaking her in its image. That's Lara as we know her, but it's not Lara as she knows her. Because of this soul shard, which is apparently why she's got an Avatar in the first place."

Another sigh. "Then there's the fact that the rest of this shattered soul is apparently housed in another body, and that Other wants her power - her soul-bit - back. Lara admits to being hunted by this woman, which is why she's so nervous about showing her face. I don't know how powerful this Other is, or whether she can communicate with the soul piece that's woven itself intrinsically into Lara's personal source code - because apparently that bit is not coming out; we can't just control-zee it away - but I know that she wants Lara dead, and vice versa. So anyone she's with..." She shrugs and sighs, letting them fill in the blanks.

[Emily Littleton] [Subterfuge: What the Frak!? No... I mean... I'm cool as cucumbers.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Emily Littleton] What Emily says first, and it falls somewhere around the time that Molly mentions pulling rank like no Cultist ever would is: "She does seem rather sketchy on ethics."

The word curls, with a measure of disdain that implies Emily has been on th receiving end of one (possibly more) of those momentary (permanent) lapses of judgment. The younger mage's mouth purses, her jaw tightens as Molly goes on, and Emily reaches up to pull a think elastic out of her hair. To tug on the curls at the nape of her neck to release a bit of that growing tension.

"Madre de Dios," she mutters, shaking her fingertips free of her curls. Scrubbing that hand over her features. She's learned so many small mannerisms from her maybe-Mentor.

"So, setting aside the problem that her soul's being eaten away and subjugated by another Will," the Chorister to be says, in a manner that does not regulate this worry to a lower level in anyway. It's just bigger than she can deal with, now. "Lara -- the one we have met, the one that came to town, that stayed in our Chantry, that crashed at my flat and now Chuck's -- is hunted, by something that shares a shard of her very Avatar. And she thinks that hiding her face is going to do anything to help?"

Calm, Emily. Calm. Her fingertips stray to the thin silver chain at her neck. Tease out the bauble at its nadir. They enfold it, but its resonance does not reach out just yet.

"She brought this into our safe house, into our homes, and didn't tell anyone? Great." The word drips of frustration. "Just peachy." It's just shy of grating. "And this on the heels of Edom -- his minion managed to possess one of us inside the Well Room."

Deep breath. Emily's fingers find her temple. "Has anyone told the Guardians? The Society?"

[Chuck Carmichael] This? It gets lots of blinking. It gets fingers tapping on a box or counter or something, once Chuck's hands are free. It gets thinking, and ideas, and the mental image of Chuck in front of a very large whiteboard sketching out complicated formulae and impossible code.

It doesn't get Emily's same concern, though it does get a low burning anger at this new security breech. It's worse, really, over the breech to Emily's security than it is over the one to his own; he looks out for his bros, as he'd told Lara yesterday. It's just the way things are.

His exposure to Edom was minimal - he'd worked from afar, removing reference to the demon from everywhere in North America that stored its name and covered any traces of it - removed it and left the place like there was nothing ever there - which is far different than Emily's more intimate experience with the thing, but he is not privvy to these details. (Would not be surprised. Would sigh and say she should have told someone just in case. But would not be surprised.)

And the last? This is a good question. "I can tell Ashley. Give other people a break from being bearers of bad news for a bit, if you'd like."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly shakes her head. "That part's already taken care of, thanks, Chuck. You know my rep. You think I'd let things go long without people knowing?" It's the first reference to her net persona she's even come close to openly making in company, but ... well, it's Chuck. He knows. "I Skyped Israel on an encoded line yesterday. Didn't have Ashley's number but this is the best I could come up with. Israel can contact Ashely, and probably will, though I figure I'll get called in for verification. Israel said she's going to start making some initial pokes and prods, but wants me there so Lara doesn't freak out. See," she adds (credit where it's due), "the reason she didn't want anyone to know, she says, is that the people she asked for help before tried to, and I quote, 'feed her to the bitch'. I ... dunno what to think or feel about that, but she's gonna be a bit fishy about anyone offering help. Still," she adds with a shrug, "I trust Israel with this. She says she can scope the land, see what everyone can do to help, I believe her. I just gotta talk to her and let her know I've scored some help that's not going to let this Other eat her alive. Mind telling her I need to talk to her?" This to Chuck. "Not what about, unless you think you need to, but ... well, shit, for an apology as much as anything else. She's out on the street because of me; I get this place set up, least I can do is give her crash space and stand with her when Israel's doing her funky groove thing. She can take the bed; I've got the big bean bag." And never mind the security risk, apparently.

Then, to the world at large, "Aw, frak, somebody beer me? And remind me to ask about this 'Edom' thing later, 'cos it sounds like I missed out on all the fun. Though I get that now's not really the time." That last to Emily, mostly, with a sympathetic smile. "For the now, I feel kind of bad that my infodump wrecked the move-in party. This was gonna be awesome. Still could be, I guess. Hey, no one's out there stealing my stuff, are they?"

[Emily Littleton] "I need to talk to Ashley about some other stuff," Emily says, failing to elaborate on what that might be at this very moment. It's understandable, though. Emily has always been quieter than her cabalmates; she's always kept mum as a default setting. "And there will be an Emissaries' meeting soon. I can bring it to the other cabals then."

Very political, our Ms. Littleton has become.

She tucks her thumbs back under her messenger bag's strap now, wraps her fingers around it, lets her arms hand there. Idle.

"I can give you the Edom synopsis, now, if you like," she says, with a little shrug. As if it's not much of anything. As if it didn't fucking consume her early Summer.

"There was a Demon," she says, and Emily isn't the sort to throw the word around lightly. It carries all of its Biblical weight, and more. It carries the weight of her belief. "He controlled various sleepers around the town, raised unliving hordes. Owen and I saw a woman he had taken over try to kill her own son, this after she had drowned her infant daughter."

There is sadness, here, but no longer the keen stroke of fear. "His Messenger possessed Nathan, within the Chantry. It was not the only visitor that night, either." Though Emily keeps quiet on the Angelic foretelling. It is, too easily mocked.

"Some of his followers were awakened. A group of us were attacked by them at a parlay meeting. Many, many innocent people died. He was trying to gather souls, into something called The Chalice. Over Independence Day weekend, one group went after Edom himself. Another after the Chalice. Kage and I held the line at the Shallowing to the near shadow."

She shrugs a bit, pulls her brows together. Pensive. Then Emily looks up, and first to Molly and then to Chuck.

"It's over now, but there was a lot of suffering. An excess of strife. It will take time for those Edom has touched to recover. Lara's news, on the heels of this, may be ill received by many. This city has seen a lot this year, Molly. I've not been awake long enough to tell you about longer, but this year has been grave so far."

[Kage Jakes] [Volume Level?]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[Kage Jakes] [Okay, the actual awareness roll.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 5, 7, 8 (Failure at target 6)

[Kage Jakes] [Really, yo?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Kage Jakes] There are a number of reasons for Kage R. Jakes to be out and about in Bronzeville. We're not going to explore any of them now.

But we are going to watch as her black pick-up truck (monstrous [behemoth]) sails down the street catches on a pothole grimaces in annoyance but is otherwise unmoved. And we're going to watch this, say, from a bird's eye view -- say, even, from those birds, the sparrow-things twittering on a broken street light, just at the edge of a certain paved parking lot, which happens to abutt a certain decrepit auto repair shop, in front of which happens to be parked a certain blue VW bug that looks as close to everybody's favourite Time Traveler's preferred mode of transtimedimensional travel as it is possible for a blue VW bug to look.

And lo, the bird's eyes will show us that there is a U-haul attached to that VW-bug, and stealthily, sneakily, one might even say arrogantly skulkily, there is a group of four people, three boys, one girl, busily taking things out of boxes, then trotting away. When one leaves, another comes, and one of the boys is eying the building a certain group of Mages is within cautiously. The stuff that gets liberated is not being liberated in the direction of the building.

And lo, the black truck veers into the parking lot, and parks oh let's say about two feet away from the back of the U-haul. There's music. The music is pretty loud. Something relatively old school. Let's say Queen. Don't Stop Me Now. And the headlights go on, flick! And the driver sort've stares at the people unloading stuff.

And honks.
And honks.
And honks.
And honks.

Because she apparently doesn't worry about getting shot.

[Chuck Carmichael] Chuck is quiet.
Chuck is thinking.
Chuck does, indeed, beer Molly. And Emily, too. (And also himself.)

[Molly Quincannon] There's a pause while Molly processes that. Somehow, 'I miss all the fun' does not sound appropriate.

(However much she actually thinks that fighting a Demon would be about ten shades of awesome.)

Finally, she settles for, "...Dude, owie. No wonder Nathan's all screwed up. Poor guy. Poor everybody. You ... you're officially my new Hero of the Day. You and this Kage person, today's Heroes. It's kind of like Employee of the Month, except without the dorky picture on someone's wall. I would buy you a beer, but Chuck's covered that already and I don't even know if you drink beer. I ... think I've got Mountain Dew. Possibly some cans of Jolt ... some mezcal I picked up just on the border of Mexico five years ago... Tap water? But yeah, I don't think Ashley hearing it from other people in quick succession after Israel calls her will hurt anything. Good to know the information's getting out. And I don't mean to cause Lara any more strife, or anyone else any more strife. Just it's better to have the strife and know about it than have it beating down your door all unexpected. At least there can be plan, of sorts."

Then? Then there is the honking, and the Queen. There are worse songs. "Shit," she says, hopping off the counter and peering out the window. "Someone is trying to steal my shit. 'Scuse me."

And thus, out comes a stompy-booted, raggedy-haired, bespectacled woman waving what looks like an iPhone and screaming, "THOSE ARE FULL OF MAN-EATING SCORPIONS AND I'M CALLING COPS!" It's hard to say whether it's the honking, the yelling or the brandished phone that makes them drop the boxes and flee, but they do. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," is about all anyone's getting out of Molly at the moment.

[Molly Quincannon] [So ... on a scale from one to ten, how badly did she get hit?]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] [Okay, I'm supposed to yell at the dice roller. *goes Spider Jerusalem on the dice roller*]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Emily Littleton] Emily and Kage have just been upgraded to Heroes. That brings Emily's assumed titles up to a new count. It almost pleases her. She declines the beer, though, when it's offered and --

-- is that the dulcet sound of Queen underscoring a massive black trunk's oh-so-familiar Honk-honk-honking? Speak of the Hero. Emily follows Molly out of the garage at something more of a saunter than a streak. She's not alarmed, just yet, about the open U-haul. Probably because Emily had never had enough things to move to require a U-haul on moving day.

When she emerges, she looks up to Kage. Waves at her, up there in her perch, sounding the alarm, keeping the Watchtower. Molly is yelling, she is riotous and virulent; enraged. Emily is quieter, there are fingers waggled at the rowan-haired Other. A Look cast upward at her Courtly friend. It's one of those looks, that warns, without saying anything, that is more how-do-you-do and might-not-want-to-linger but also warm. Emily is warmer, now, and not just because of the weather.

[Emily Littleton] In a break of Molly's yelling, she looks over and says simply.

"Molly? That's Kage." Her gaze flicks up to the Other, then back to the Cultist.

[Kage Jakes] They flee, the punks do. Not before one of them takes a swipe at Kage's truck with a fist. Which isn't very smart, because car beats fist as surely as scissors beat paper. A little more surely, actually. And there is a stompy booted, dark-haired, yelling woman (resonant [frantic]) cursing as she surveys the damage. Unfortunately, the damage was considerable.

The truck rumbles down into park (but with a sound like maybe it'd like to go hunting for some streetpunk blood and this is just a waste of its time) and then Kage kills the ignition and the music dies, too. The spotlight/headlights no longer illuminate the mostly empty U-haul, and Kage opens the door and leans out, hooking an arm through the window, redredred braids dangling.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck -

"Hey," she says, "I'm sorry I didn't get here earlier. You want me to do a lap around the block?" And, "Hey, Emily."

[Molly Quincannon] "Fuck fuck fuckity-fucking-fuckfuckfuck hi Kage you're my other Hero of the day and now with more reason oh fuuuuuuuuuuckity fuck fuck fuck..." Molly's dragging the couple of boxes that remain back towards the U-Haul. "I kept the beanbag in the chest freezer at least oh [i]fuck[i] do I have to ward everything next time? At least they haven't got my hard drives I'm not that fuckin' stupid but still oh shiiiiiit..." This as she surveys the damage.

Then she stops and sighs. "This is what I get," she grumbles, "for not taking care of business before I started the infobombs on ... community members." They are, of course, back on the steret again. "Thanks, Kage. And no, they didn't make off with anything I can't replace and if they need it that bad, it's my stupid fault for leaving an open U-Haul. I deserve the object lesson. I bought it. I own it. I have ... some stuff. And the rest ... eh, it was probably time I went shopping anyway. But thanks. You're a serious hero, no word of a lie." She looks up, grins a bit, and adds, "Cute, too. See? Priorities. I'm Molly, by the way. Nice to meet you. Shame about the circumstances."

[Emily Littleton] The Chorister-to-be watches the last of the punks flee. She notes which way they disappear into the neighborhood. She frowns. Then she realizes she's channeling another Singer, and shrugs it off and returns to the group.

"Riley helped me with some Good Will decorating when I first moved into my flat," Emily says, trying to be helpful. "And I need to find a sofa. Maybe we could make a group outing of it: eccentric decorations day." There's a small smile, sympathetic but also bolstering. She doesn't have Riley's force of personality, or Kage's balladry.

"We were catching up on recent events," Emily tells Kage. Which doesn't explain why Emily is still wearing her messenger bag, looking like she hasn't intended on staying long. "Edom and my recent houseguest," she adds, giving both equal weight. Which would mean something to Kage, as Emily's frustration with Lara did not really merit equal billing to Him and His Dastardly Plot To Destroy The City.

[Chuck Carmichael] "And I'm Chuck," he says, the 'working' light having stopped flashing and thus allowed him to join the ladies outside. He is [progressive] dynamism and [secure] staticism rolled into one walking, talking, ridiculously tall Virtual Adept . . . who had locked his car and armed the alarm, and thus finds his own belongings just where he left them. This is good, of course, but he feels bad for Molly.

"Nice to meet you. If you need help shopping, Molly, ping me up. I'm good for carrying heavy stuff, at least."

He remembers the last time he randomly-ish went shopping for what he considered necessary accoutrement for someone else's flat. It's been a while since he checked, but he suspects the results are still in their flat-pack boxes somewhere. Then there's mention of recent events and Chuck goes back into thinking mode, but not quite as quiet.

"Huh. I know she's one of yours and all, Moll, but seems like she trusts me. I wonder what talking to her about it would do."

[Kage Jakes] The that's Kage and the now with more reason aren't lost on Kage. The red-haired woman (and, look; she burns, ardent; withers, drains away: luminous verbing of the word beloved, Spring and Winter both) perks an eyebrow. Unspoken question; it's mostly directed toward Emily. What? And listens, still hanging out of her truck, and by the time Molly's got all the way to no word of lie, Kage has pushed her truckdoor all the way open and hopped down to the ground. She does not precisely present an imposing figure, Kage, in all her 5"3 glory, her demure button-up blouse, belled sleeves, olive green (smoky green) pants, be-pocketed and folded up, laced and zipped and heelless shoes.

Kage tips an imaginary cowboy hat at Molly, says, in a faux drawl, "Well now, ma'am, it's a pleasure and anytime." Then: in her regular voice. "Where there is derring doo to be done, where there are punks to be honked at, there you will find me. I guess you already know my name." Here, a smile - easy, a touch of radiance to the eyes, but that's all. Kage is a creature of composure, and that's probably already becoming evident. Woman's got poise, in spades. And aces. And hearts, and clubs. Full deck. "I know some good places for cheap, but nifty, furniture, if you're now without."

And, Emily - recent events. Edom, then Lara. In the same breath. Kage doesn't even bother to pretend that doesn't make her raise an eyebrow, and she slants the almost-Chorister a look. "Oh, really. Is she out of your apartment? Hey, Chuck," and Kage is circling to examine her truck and any possible dents that punk may've left.

[Kage Jakes] ooc: Grr. "I guess you already know my name, but I'll say 'I'm Kage' so it's more official, and offer a handshake." Don't know what happened to the rest of that sentence!

[Molly Quincannon] Molly looks at Chuck, trying to calm down. She's not going to take out her anger at current events on him. That's not fair. "Chuck, I told her that people wanted to help, that I could get people to help. I ... need the chance to prove that to her. I was the one who said that she should trust me that telling people was the right thing, and that it'd help her. You don't think I need to be the one to tell her when that turns out to be true? This has to come from me, Chuck. Because she's one of mine ... because it's going to be only the two of us 'cos Nathan did a bail on our branch of the family, let's just say ... and because I owe her that. Please could you just let us have that, so we've actually got an 'us', she and I?"

Then she grins at Kage and Emily. "Thanks, both of you. I'm generally minimal on the furniture, but any help would be appreciated. And damn, my Amazon account's gonna hurt when this is over. They got my DVD library, little shits. How the hell did they get my mini-fridge? The microwave, I get, but... Aw, hell, they got the coffee machine!" She sounds more woeful about that than anything else she's lost. Apparently, there are priorities. Then she grins sheepishly. "Could ... you guys help me get the rest of this inside? Before I lose it to more punks? And we can talk a bit more freely, maybe."

[Emily Littleton] This is Traditional politics, right here. The talk of families, of us being more than her and I. Emily watches it happen, lets it slide by. She is listening, keenly, to this interplay between the Vdept and the Cultist. Emily, who offered no Traditional attachment when introductions were made. Emily, who is pulling herself up to step into the U-haul, heading toward the far edge where the last of the boxes remain. She brings them to the open edge, carrying the ones she could lift. Shoving the ones she could not.

She doesn't even attempt to move the chest freezer.

"Your place can't be more minimal on furniture than mine was, when I moved in. Even after the heist I think you've got more tangibles," Emily says, setting one box down atop the other.

"If you want to be the one to tell Lara," she says, cautioningly. "Then you'd best get on it before Ashley finds out. Stopping that train once it's left the station with be nigh impossible."

[Kage Jakes] The Orphan is listening, too. Kage is a smart cookie (the kind that knows that where there's a glass of milk and a bunch've kids there is no good end for an innocent chocolate chip, especially not once the words 'after school' and 'snack' have been mentioned), and she's good at piecing together a story from unrelated sentences. They're talking about Lara. They're talking about Lara, Nathan, and Molly, so Molly's gotta be a Cultist, not a Virtual Adept or an Orphan or a Holly One or a Euthanatos or any of those other things, and whatever it is Lara's done, it's Of Interest to the entire crowd. "I'm sorry," she says, having ascertained that her truck isn't too poorly off. "But what exactly is it you've got to tell Lara?"

The redhead picks up one of the boxes, bracing it carefully so that anything inside doesn't break. And as she does, she happens to catch a glimpse of the time on her watchface. She says a word, and it's kind've a dirty word. Lingers in the air, says, "You know, I'd love to - " pause, box is heavy; she's depositing it inside the building " - help, but I was supposed to meet with this guy about ten minutes ago, and I'm still ten minutes away."

Box deposited, she runs her fingers through her hair, even though it's in braids, and the braids sort've get mussed, tousled. Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a - that's right - business card. "But give me a call, Molly, and good luck." A brief pause, and then a half-smirk - " - if I see anyone toting your stuff around I'll try to beat them up and take it back."

And on that cheery note, Kage'll get back into her truck and pull out, waving once she's on the street. Dust cloud.

Exeunt, random Hero of the Day, right time, right place.

[Chuck Carmichael] "I'll accept the handshake, and match it," he says, all easy-amiable - Kage first. Then, for Molly, "Whatever works. Far be it from me to interfere in another branch of the family's stuff unless it's needed. Or helpful."

And from there, boxes are picked up and carried in, though even he'll need help with the chest freezer; he's of very slightly, not much at all, above average strength, this Geek Squadder. It comes from hours spent rowing - at least half an hour a day, every day. "Later," he offers when it's Kage's time to go - which leaves him, Emily and Molly.

He's still musing, though - even if he's not going to help, the idea of the project is fascinating. It's worth writing some things down, anyway, worth playing with some bits of code on his experiment-box. There's a stop at his car, though, and reaching in to come out with an old electronic Battleship game fused together and turned into a lamp. "Happy housewarming?"

It's more question than statement, given.

"The game still plays, and the pieces are in these little boxes on the side. Hope you like it!" Those skills have gotta be good for something.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly looks at the little housewarming present that Chuck has provided for a long moment, more inscrutible than she's been seen to date. This is, of course, after every other box has been moved in and Molly's helped Chuck haul in the chest freezer. With everything safely stored, she can linger over this lamp-game-thing. Then she sets it gently down on the service counter that now respresents most of her furniture and then hugs Chuck. "Thank you," she says, obviously quite overcome. Then, and one can hear the grin, "Twice over, actually. I've wanted to hug you for, like, days."

Then, once she's reluctantly disengaged the hug, she can address the matter of Lara, and who tells what to whom. "Israel actually asked me to talk to Lara, to be fair. I think that, since she's the one calling Ashley, she'll be able to lay down the law about how this one's handled. I ... don't know them very well, but I think that Ashley, Deacon or not, trusts Israel enough to know how things ought to be handled. I warned Israel right off that Lara was going to be skittish, and if Ashley's that much ... you know, unstoppable force, immovable object, I figure if anyone can handle that, it'd be Israel. I doubt she'd have told me to talk to Lara if she was going to let Ashley take matters in hand. Still, sooner's probably better. I might even run into her while shopping," she adds, smile turning rueful. "You never know. And thanks, Chuck. Though I bet she'd feel better if you came along to this ... you know, preliminary scan as well. Safety in numbers. Just ... it ought to be me that broaches it, that's all. There's some sisterly stuff to rebuild, y'know?"

[Emily Littleton] Emily climbs down out of the U-Haul. She picks up one of the lighter boxes. She knows which ones they are now. This gets carried into the house-to-be. She's comfortable with the oddity of it, the idea of living in a non-standard space. It doesn't raise eyebrows or draw inquiry; she thinks Molly has some sort of story, to be doing this, but then again so does every Awakened community member. Em's got a story, to have lived in her flat for months and failed to acquire a couch.

Unstoppable force, immoveable object. Emily factors these words into what must be Molly's growing understanding of the Hermetic Disciple. The Tytalan. She rubs the back of her neck with one hand, grimaces slightly.

"Ah, Ashley's not really as bad as all that," she says. Then pauses thoughtfully for a moment and almost recants. "It's just that she's Deacon, and Lara endangered the Chantry. Intentional or not -- that's the sort of thing that will put Ashley on edge. The City's been through a lot; the Society isn't ready to lose the House to whatever's chasing your Tradition-mate. Not so soon after they got it back."

There's a story, there, too. Emily is a veritable treasure-trove of local history, and chatty today, too, which is odd. Her smiles warms, though. "I'll bring you buy a house-warming present soon, too. I've got just the thing in mind."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Ashley's actually pretty amazing. She's adorable and fun to hang out with, and she's constantly challenging," he offers with a shrug. "She pushes people to be their best, I think, and to go past it."

That's after surprised acceptance of the hug - it doesn't take him long to get past said surprise, because Chuck is a tactile kind of guy. He likes touching - he likes running fingers through hair, or feeling the texture of fabric, or any number of other things. So, when he finds himself hugged by the petite cultist, the natural instinct is to pick her up and spin her much as he might Riley (or Em, in the right circumstances, which they will find again before too long) . . . so he chases this feeling. Being a foot or so taller than Molly, it's easy to lift her feet from the ground and do just that.

"You're welcome. Twice over. And I like hugs."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly, who giggled when spun, says, "I will have to remember that. I like hugs too. And guys, I don't think 'unstoppable force, immovable object' is a bad thing. Not in a Deacon. She seems cool. I sense badass there, and it's the right kind. Protective. Firm. It's all good. Just ... I think Lara doesn't cope well with firm. Comfort zones, for now."

To the mention of housewarming presents from Emily, she blushes. "You don't have to do that, really. Though ... y'know, I wouldn't say no, and thank you kindly. And hug you if you thought it wouldn't be an intrusion or anything." This with a grin, which turns a touch uncertain. "And now ... that everything's locked up, I have to return the U-Haul and go find a store before it closes. At least I need a microwave, and a computer monitor. Does your Best Buy have microwaves? I cannot cope without microwave. And I should get underwear. Anyone want to come along? I'll buy dinner. I'd offer to cook, but ... you know. It'd be microwaved."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Best Buy does have microwaves, and I'll save you from the blues. And even contribute my employee discount. It's handy having friends in . . . um . . . retail? 'cept I'm not, really." And so, Chuck goes with her - with plans to meet up with Em at some later point (or date) if she doesn't as well.