[Emily Littleton] [Awareness: Let's get this roll out of the way.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Alexander Turnquist] [percep+aware]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] It's a hot day, like every other summer day in Chicago, but not so hot that the tops of their heads feel burnt and stretched-taut by the afternoon sun. It's hot enough that all of the doors are closed, big glassed in wardens to keep the cooler air inside. To keep the heat out. To keep little storms from forming on the threshold of inside/outside, where the air masses meet. No tornadoes on the sashes, please; no minor catastrophes today.
This is an independent place, one that's done well enough in the sea of Starbucks, still hosts open mic nights on Thursdays, pipes in some singer-songwriter background fluff the rest of the time. Occasionally plays classical or jazz late at night when the college crowd has taken over the tables to study. It's the kind of place you enjoy while it lasts, becuase there's no guarantee it'll be there next year, next month, next week. Flash in the pan: brilliant and then gone.
Speaking of brilliance... at a table by the window a college kid studies, head bent and pen tapping on a notepad at her side. Now and again she taps something out on the keyboard of her laptop, or turns the stylus in pretty patterns and shapes against the paper -- ordered letters and numbers, careful penmanship, level loops and neatly dotted Is. Threaded through her pattern, in an unmistakable but subtle way, is the feeling of Reverence, a quiet grace than oft pairs with awe. It is brilliant, separates her from the Sleepers she sits near, calls her out as something Other, something more. It is Unrelenting, if quieted now.
One hand reaches over for her iced coffee. Emily doesn't even look up to place it. She knows where it is, the way one knows the edge of their arm-span, the way one knows if their toes will touch the floor from where they're perched. She is certain, and that certainty does not mislead her. But the cup has grown damp with condensation, and that rolls off her fingertips, puddles on her keyboard, leaves a drop of dampness on her jeans. Emily frowns and rubs her fingertips in the the spot on her jeans; frowns more and wipes away the dampness on her keyboard.
This breaks her reverie. She looks around the coffee shop with slightly bleary-eyes. Tries to place how long she has been studying here, the people who have come and gone in that space of time.
[Alexander Turnquist] The place was like something straight out of the village, back in his home city. A bohemian paradise. He had never been here before, in fact, he hadn't spent much time on the mag mile since arriving in chicago. He usually found himself in slightly dingier, creepier places. With the dregs of society. But not today, today he was feeling rather pleased with himself and his life.
There was the defeating of the Nephandi on friday, which alex had accomplished single-handedly, probably a more amazing feat than the young Euthanatos cared to admit. He had a mentor, he had possibly TWO mentor's actually, what with Wharil being the helpful teacher that he was. And then there was Riley. Things really couldn't have gotten much better. If it wasn't for the slight pain in his left foot when he walked, he would say things were perfect.
He had just finished receiving his iced mocha to go, in its green and white recyclable cup when he spotted something vaguely familiar. He couldn't quite tell from the looks, and he couldn't quite tell from the resonance, but together they made a package that he thought he had seen before. He crossed the distance to the window seat rather slowly. He wore a tight fitted long sleeved grey shirt, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The top three buttons were undone and below that he wore a pair of fitted black jeans. As he got closer his brows began to narrow at Emily.
"Do I know you from somewhere?"
[Emily Littleton] Emily wore a simple, white peasant blouse. It made the faint bronzing of summer sun stand out in comparison to her usually pale complexion. It make the dark of her hair that much more dramatic, called forward the nuances in her deeply blue eyes. She was pretty enough, if not beautiful. She was warm enough, if not as friendly and gregarious as their mutual friend.
Those eyes flick over, flick upward to scan Alex's features, to find his eyes, to seek and then relent to something warmer as the barest hint of recognition softened her smile. She is cautious, alert and keenly self-possessed. He will know this, now, by just the way her eyes find his. Emily shifts in her chair, sits back away from her work a little, lets the smile spread to something broader, warmer yet.
"Ah, Best Buy, yes?" she asks him, letting the words trip and traipse along in her odd accent, leading and questioning all at once. She is British, that note is easy enough to place, but the rest of it is muddled. Muddy. Other, like her resonance. Like the things that draw them together and might push them apart again.
"I don't think I got your name," she says, which is polite for if I have I have forgotten. "I'm Emily. Would you care to join me?" she asks, already moving to collect her things from their splay across the table. She keys a couple strokes into the computer. Closes it. Stacks her open notebook and pen atop it. There's room for company now, for conversation.
[Alexander Turnquist] He seemed lost in thought when she talked to him and it was another moment before he finally came to realisation. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened into a small O. Then that circle was collapsing forming a smile to mirror her own, a reply to her friendly manners. He nodded his head to her invitation and took the seat offered, eyes searching her face and torso, perhaps to get a better look at the beautiful girl, or perhaps just to try solidify her further in his mind.
"Best Buy.. right.." He paused a moment. "Emily of course, I should have remembered really, you're Rileys friend right? I'm Alex Turnquist."
He didn't know if riley and em had been talking lately or if they had what they had been talking about, Ashley had told him about the notice that daiyu had made about him, he didn't know how many people were privy to that notice board however. It was all in the past anyway, but it reminded him, he had tasks to complete for Ashton.
[Emily Littleton] [Subterfuge: Hey, that name's not familiar... at all.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] Alex Turnquist. Emily knows the name, but not perhaps by the way Alex would assume. This bit of information, like so many of the things the Orphan (Singer) knows is kept close to breast, concealed behind the polite mask and pleasant manners and genuine good will she seems to hold toward (all? [most]) Man.
"That I am," she says, confirming his suspicion of her connections. This is given easily; if anything that smile broadens a little. Riley is well-liked, she has a positive influence on most people. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Alex," she adds. There's a comfortable undercurrent to the formality in her voice. Emily wears these mannerisms like a second skin, like they're carved into her bones. Foundational. Engrained.
"Are you two close?" she asks, in a way that speaks to some innocence on the subject. Perhaps they were friends, classmates, even coworkers. Emily doesn't intimate anything more; she is cautious not to. It's just a question, for now.
[Alexander Turnquist] His eyes narrowed and he half turned his head away from her, eyes never leaving hers however until he lifted the drink to take a gulp of the ice cool liquid.
"Nice to meet you too Emily." There was slight hesitation in that statement, like he wasn't quite sure if it was indeed going to be nice or not, like he hadn't made up his mind yet. She hadn't gasped or done what Ashley had when he said his name, oh -you're- Alex, perhaps she hadn't heard about him. That was a good thing. Or maybe she was just good at lying. That was most definitely not a good thing. Alex had no way of knowing however.
She asked him about his relationship with Riley and he couldn't help but feel a slight blush rise in his cheeks when he thought about the answer. "We.. We are.. I would say... Yeah, we're close."
[Emily Littleton] [Awareness as Empathy: Are you... blushing?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] Alex blushes and Emily's attention slips away. It's a polite thing. She reaches for her iced coffee and slicks the condensation from its sides, taps damp fingertips against a papernapkin, sips at the cool drink. It gives him time to comport himself, to rescind the flush on his cheeks and rethink the stammer (staggering) to his words.
It's polite.
Emily doesn't push (yet).
"That's wonderful," is what she says, with a brightness to her eyes that seems genuinue. A warmer, less guarded smile. "Riley's a great friend, even when we're disagreeing over things." Which they were, at present. Emily makes no secret of that, and perhaps it goes a little way to smoothing over the momentary awkwardness.
"Are you two classmates?" she asks, which is a polite way to say how did you two meet? She doesn't ask after the closeness (she can guess [she already knows]). "Have you met Chuck yet? I mean, outside of the parking lot that day?" Riley's Geek Squad partner. (Their cabalmate [big brother] close friend)
[Alexander Turnquist] He nodded his head and let out a sigh of relief when she said it was wonderful. It really was wonderful, but from what he could remember, Riley had told him this Emily person was her friend, you know girls and friends! If the friend doesn't like you... It's an uphill battle. With that in mind he tried to squirm a smile into his lips before failing horribly in the attempt, looking far too nervous and covering it up with a quick gulp from his iced drink. He only pulled the cup away to speak when he had control of himself again.
"Chuck? Oh I've seen him once or so after that.. I was kind of a bit distracted at the time though" A pause and then he added. "What do you mean classmates? Nah, not class mates... I didn't even know she was a student... we kind of..." Another blush. "Well you know how it is im sure...you and your boyfriend or whatever... hard to get lots of talking done and stuff.. Ya know?"
She was pretty, Alex was sure she had some guy drooling all over her somewhere, making it hard for her to talk.
[Alexander Turnquist] [aware(emp)+percep]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] She wasn't giving him any outward reason to be nervous, unless the composure and calm Emily carried was somehow nerve-wracking. Unless Alex had come over to the table expecting a luke-warm welcome or a barrage of questions. She seems polite, politely interested, good about personal boundaries. Emily is not outwardly devious, is not malicious in any way.
When Alex mentions her having a boyfriend Emily's smile twists gently, slightly wry, and somewhat hidden. It's veiled, and obviously so (a tell!), but that passes. It's let go without comment. Slides right on by.
"You seem nervous?" she asks. There's a note of concern in her voice, before Emily sips from her coffee again. "Chuck's her better friend, really. Don't worry about chatting with me. I don't bite."
Emily was not the friend that this boyfriend of Riley's had to impress, and she knew it. Her opinions were toothless, that's how she made it sound. No threat, no worries.
"Have you been in town long?" she asks, now, steering the conversation away from his pinked cheeks and his recreational activities with her cabalmate.
[Alexander Turnquist] He relaxed visibly and sighed, grinning at her after his shoulders had slumped. "Oh.. well, good then." He laughed. "You know how hard it is for a guy? Like say you and Riley were best friends, I come in here I meet you, I say the wrong thing and Riley is asking me about it next time I see her!"
He paused and shook his head slightly. "You say its chuck I have to worry about, but honestly chuck and me are fine, chuck doesn't seem like the kind of guy who could easily say bad things about someone." A hidden message there, perhaps that emily DID seem like the type who could say bad things about someone. Whether it was true or not was another matter.
He had dropped his guard, now it was all out in the open, hopefully Emily wouldn't take the opportunity to tear his soft social underbelly to pieces.
[Emily Littleton] If Alex wanted to dance around what was and wasn't said with Emily, well, she wasn't going to stop him. Her fingers toy with the straw of her iced coffee; it's an idle, thoughtless thing. It's as easy to her and wordplay, which was what he was dancing near. She didn't take him up on that implied offer, though, not yet. It was a nod of respect to her friendship with Riley, likely, because Emily enjoyed that particular form of dancing.
"Chuck's good people," she says, and the idiom is odd on her lips. It longs to be grammatically corrected, to read in better English. It's off, but warm. Just enough to catch his ear (attention). "I don't imagine he's a cross word to say for most people, but if he ever did? I know I'd listen."
His gentled stance is rewarded with a small, conspiratorial smile. She's trying, because he's Riley's, to be friendly. To get to know him before she assumes to much. Because Alex had one thing right about Emily, she could say bad things about someone (honest things [candid things]) should she need to.
[Alexander Turnquist] He pondered that a moment and nodded his head, he had a wry knowing smile when he looked back to her and he slowly took a sip from his straw. "Chuck -Is- good people. And what you say makes sense.. I guess.. If someone who never says a bad thing suddenly comes up and tells you so and so is trouble? Yeah I'd listen too."
A pause before he spoke again. "And i've been here just over a month, its awesome, but people make a place what it is, not any innate coolness factor of the actual city." he decided he should try and get the subject away from himself. This Emily was crafty, all winks and smiles and knowing glances, she probably could read his social mannerisms better than he could read them himself. There was power in that.
"What about you? Do you study with Riley?" He offered the question, she had asked it to start with, he was simply turning it back to her.
[Emily Littleton] A conversation had a flow, a natural give and take. Alex's blush and subsequent admission of precisely how connected he was to Riley had swayed that. It had shifted what should have been all polite helloes and how are you todays toward something a little more personal. Now he hands the questions back to Emily, turns it around, and she weathers it easily.
"I met Riley through Chuck, actually. At a gaming-at-the-office day, there at the Best Buy. It was fun. They take their games seriously, though," she warns, in case Alex has not yet been fully indoctrinated in the geek culture. Not steeped until saturated. Emily, it seems, takes a more casual note to her geekery, despite the strange sigils (higher level maths and physics) in her notebook.
"We were fast friends for awhile, but I've let that slip a bit. It was a rough spring around here," she says, meaning the city. There's a slight sadness that comes forward, but he'd have to be keen to pick up on it as anything more profound than regret. "I should ring her." This is offered as much for Alex's opinion (because surely he had one) as anything.
[Alexander Turnquist] [oh really just regret?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] [Subterfuge: There's a lot I'm not sayin' just now.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Alexander Turnquist] He laughed when she mentioned they were serious about their gaming and interjected a little "Yeah, no kidding!" Alex had learned that first hand when Riley had decided to teach him how to play Cod4, which he was horrible at, which she laughed about. It didn't bother him now though, he had won in the end.
"Rough spring huh?" He couldn't see anything in her body language to indicate she meant anything more than what she said. "And yeah, you should give her a call, she's been a bit angry last day or so but shes calming down. Just dont take her anywhere you're likely to see a deaf chorister!"
He laughed, for a brief moment. He was of course talking about James, who Alex still needed to have a word with, find out exactly what the fuck had gone on in that house. Riley had told him her side of the story but it didn't make any sense at all. Communication break down? Or sabotage? Why would he sabotage the rescue mission for his own friend? Didn't make any sense at all.
[Emily Littleton] Angry Riley. Deaf Chorister.
Emily's attention sharpened on the young man across from her, her eyes narrowed slightly and her posture shifted just-so. He, undoubtedly, had the full force of her attention now while she'd been pulling holding back up until this moment.
"Deaf Singer?" she asks, using the word she is more familiar with, the one she hears more frequently from Owen (her mentor [let's leave it at that, shall we?]). Suddenly aware that Alex had done little to warrant this scrutiny she shifts her gaze away, gentles it, brings it back to meet Alex's eyes.
"Is everything alright?" Emily asks, as if she hardly expects that to be the case. This girl, across from Alex, who can't be older than he is (and is far more likely younger), this girl knows the things that come hunting Awakened folk in the middle of the night. It had been a rough spring (does this look put that comment in perspective?); she'd weathered more than she'd meant to. "What did he do?"
[Alexander Turnquist] He nodded his head when she questioned about the deaf singer.. But something in her attitude had changed, she wasn't playing games anymore, he had said something that caught her off guard, something that she didn't expect. He liked this change in her behaviour, it made her seem more approachable.
"Yeah deaf singer..." The word singer seemed strange to him, him and his tradition mostly referred to them as choristers, singer seemed like such a pleasant name. "You know him?" A questioning glance from Alex. This was not gossip about girls and boys anymore. This was serious shit. This was the reason he had a hole in his foot a day ago. The reason Riley was angry and the reason Alex had needed to blow off yet another persons head. Admittedly he didn't feel at all bad about this one, at least not yet, he hadn't really thought about it. The guy was a monster.
A pause and he pondered on it a moment. "Everythings fine now." A lie. "Maybe you should talk to Riley about it."
[Alexander Turnquist] [Lie ? What lie... Oh you mean the one painted on my chest in bright red letters.]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] [Per + Subterfuge: Cabal safety is srs bznss. You better not be lying, Friend-of-Riley.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] Everything's fine now.
One... Two... Three... Ten.
"Alex," Emily said, and the tone was no longer light and gently-British canted. The accent's muddled pleasantries had been pulled back. It was all sharp consonants and foreign vowels now, no more vestiges of where she might and might not have lived. "Love," Emily said, and the endearment was no less warningly intoned.
"Tell me what happened to my cabal-mate."
No please. No thank you. There was no direct threat to her words, but they left little room for argument. Strange, too, that Riley has transitioned from Emily's friend to her cabal-mate when it's time to pull rank and stop currying favors.
"Start at the beginning," she advises, helpfully. Her tone remains firm, but she's not outwardly angry with him (yet).
[Alexander Turnquist] He gulped, blinked, his left foot gave a nervous twitched and he lifted the still sore appendage up off the ground for a moment. She wanted to know what happened? Should he really tell her? He didn't see how he couldn't. The way she was looking at him made him certain that she would find out, and if it wasn't from him then she would think less of him.
"Well.." A pause and he licked his lips.
"James was in trouble, he texted me on friday morning asking me to meet him, to help out." Alex left out the part where james had told him to bring his guns. "Riley was staying over and I kinda just, I just snuck out. I thought I'd only be gone for an hour at most but when it looked like it was going to be getting bad I gave her a text, she came down to meet us." He smiled after that. "She is great right?" The question was rhetorical.
"Well anyway, turns out some friend of James' got kidnapped right in front of his face! Some dude just grabbed her and vanished! Poof!." He paused there, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. "So you know, I said I'd help get her back, what was I supposed to do? But now Riley was there, I mean I don't want to get her into any bad shit, its one thing for me to decide im gonna help this guy because he's been helpful to me, but its another thing for me to volunteer Riley. Anyway, she's stubborn as all hell and can take care of herself so I wasn't even going to start that whole argument with her. "
"She helped James track this dude down -- the one who took his friend -- and well we got in his house, I found out he was in the basement with some hostages." His voice lowered here and he was pretty much leaning all over table trying to whisper as quietly as possible. If anyone unknowingly overheard they would probably think they were talking about a computer game or something.
"I used a little trick I've got you know?" He grinned. "Anyway, when we got in the house we kinda had a plan but it wasn't going to work, it all seemed to be pretty silly, I decided shit, I'm the most capable here to do this" He wasn't being arrogant or boasting, he was just speaking truth. "Somebodys gotta get in there you know? before its too late, so I tell james I say Hey, im going in, wait and when Riley comes in you come in with her. Seems straight forward enough a plan right? Well I get in, I get the job done, BARELY, my fucking foots still killing me, when I go back upstairs to find out what the fuck is going on with Riley and James they are FIGHTING!" He looked utterly lost for words. "Honestly, not even joking, shes throwing punches at his face, hes trying not to get hit too bad but otherwise not really fighting back. Riley says that he HELD her, stopped her from coming down into the basement to help me! Shit, he couldn't do anything more stupid if you ask me. I still haven't talked to him about it yet though, don't really know why he'd do something like that."
He took another large sip of his drink and gulped, wiping a hand back through his hair. "So yeah, Everythings fine now."
[Emily Littleton] [WP: I'm only an apprentice. I'm not old enough to be jaded about this shit.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] It takes some effort, but Emily manages to hold back any small twitches, any tells that might give away exactly how perturbed she is by this news. Which is good, because really? Everyone walked away. Except the bad guy. And that's how it's supposed to end.
How they went about getting there? Well. You know. There might have been better options, far be it for Emily to say so. Pot, Kettle? Yes, we're both black.
"So she's mad at James because he restrained her from going into a room with an active fire-fight?" Emily asks. It's pointed. She's strung together a few salient points and made a guess at how Alex might take out a room of badness with just himself. He might be Ashton's apprentice, but she wasn't sure that sort of badassery could be translated in the space of a few weeks.
"Do you know anything about this dude beyond that he had James' friend? Was he Awake?" Emily asks, and it's a leading question. She's wanting to know if it's another Nephandus. Or a Marauder. But this isn't laid out plainly for the Sleepers around them to pick out of their conversation.
Almost as an after-thought (but don't take it that way [she's a little pale under all this directed concern]), she adds: "I'm really glad to hear you're all okay. Have you had your foot looked at?"
[Alexander Turnquist] He sighed and leaned back his chair, stretching his arms above his head like it was no big deal before relaxing them again. "Yea, israel looked at it, I'll live its nothing, thanks for the concern though." He paused before answering her other questions, taking a quick look around them. He hadn't picked up any other resonances in the place but you could never be too careful about who was listening in.
"James said he was 'fallen' or something, I don't really know what that means or anything but he definitely was awake, shit I could feel it just eeeking out of him even at the place he had taken James' friend from. It was bad, I could feel it. Real bad." he paused again. "Though, he didn't really get a chance to get anything off when I caught up with him, dont really want to know what would of happened if I HAD given him a chance."
He puffed out his cheeks a little before letting out a breath. "And yeah, I think thats why she's mad, though who can tell for sure, she said something about him saying something horrible about me before they started fighting but im not really sure what it is or what sort of thing James could have told her that would have made them start a fight right there!"
[Emily Littleton] Fallen.
Emily presses her hands flat against the table, stretches her fingers out. It's firm and smooth beneath her palms. She says nothing for the stretch of several seconds, but the flicker-play of emotion across her features is unmistakable. The word dredges something up, something from that rough spring, undoubtedly, and it is not gentle, this memory.
She nods a little, which is a good indication that she's been listening. Weighing. Judging what she hears in a careful and controlled way. Her heart beats a little faster than it ought to, and that keen clarity in her blue eyes will not soften away now. She breathes in, holds it for a moment, breathes out slowly.
"Are you familiar with the terms Nephandi or Qlippothic?" Emily asks, studying his face for any flicker of recognition. She swallows back something, then adds. "I'm very glad you're all okay," as if this somehow bears repeating just now. Because of something he had said.
"If you ever encounter that feeling again, get back up before you go in after it," she tells him. Emily hasn't been asked for her advice, and she's not so much giving it as instructing. It could be hard to swallow from another Apprentice, except for the absolute seriousness with which she says this. It speaks to personal experience, this gravity. This surety.
"I'm just... I... I'm really glad you're all okay."
[Alexander Turnquist] He frowned, he looked utterly confused at that moment. He sucked in his cheeks as she expressed again how absolutely glad she was that they were all ok. I mean, sure the guy was dangerous, hell he had kidnapped James' friend right out from under his nose and Alex knew that James was no slouch. But still, Alex had it under control.
"Yeah, I mean maybe we should of got backup or something, I think riley shot off a few texts, but you know, there were WOMEN in there, Sleepers, tied up and stuff. I had to do something." It was like he was trying to explain his thought process, like he was trying to explain why he had done what he had done rather than defend it. It didn't feel like he even had a choice about what he needed to do that night.
A hand reached into his hair and he ran it back through it absently. "So you think this guy was some Nephandi? Or something? Nah I wouldn't know about that. James just said he was Fallen, hell I dont even really know what he means by fallen." He shrugged his shoulders. "Why? Should I know about them?" His tone slightly more serious.
[Emily Littleton] "I understand why you did what you did, Alex," Emily assures him, and not with any small measure of weight on that. She turns her cup about in her hands, letting it rotate in the small ring of condensation it that had sluiced from its sides. Emily knows, and it darkens her eyes and pulls down the corners of her mouth. This gravity, it is not feigned. It has been earned.
"I'm not saying I would have done any differently, and it would be another mage sitting across the table from me saying these same things. Perhaps with a heavy dose of I told you so, were I lucky enough to escape with as little harm as you three found."
She chews on the corner of her mouth, momentarily. Emily reaches up and tucks a tendril behind her ear. She fidgits. Keeping quiet is easier than keeping still.
"When most of the others say Fallen, they mean Nephandi. It's a polite way to say it; doesn't draw too much attention, you see? They're Awake, but they've been twisted. Fallen away from what's true and pure -- hence the euphemism. I'm probably not the best to explain this to you -- perhaps Wharil or Ashton will be better at it -- but awhile ago a pair of Fallen took over the Chantry. They turned a mage, made him go Mad. It's taken us all year to straighten the house out..."
Her voice falls away. She doesn't have to tell Alex what happened to the mage that they'd turned.
[Alexander Turnquist] He sat there for a moment, pondering, she had said a pair of fallen had taken over the chicago chantry? how on earth could they have let that happen? and that they had turned someone. That it all had to be sorted. Alex knew the only way to sort things like that. He knew damn well.
"Did you know them? Or the one they turned? Before he turned I mean..."
[Emily Littleton] "No," Emily says plainly, and with a note of regret. "I met him once, after he'd gone Mad. He burned like Summer," she said, remembering. "The snow couldn't touch him; wouldn't fall around his feet."
There was a far-away note to her voice for a moment, then the other Apprentice shuddered faintly and reached up to rub at one shoulder with her arm.
"I was new, then." As if she wasn't still new. "It hasn't been an easy year, Alex."
[Emily Littleton] [Char + Exp: For something else....]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Emily Littleton
[Alexander Turnquist] His mouth opened as if to utter an apology, but it was postponed, instead he reached out a hand and touched the hand of hers on her shoulder. His own hand was pale, but warm and he held it there for a brief moment before releasing.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drag up anything sore.. Do you want another drink? I'm all out."
He shook his cup, indicating there was very little if anything left in the bottom of it. She looked like maybe she could use something stronger but not every was partial to alcoholic beverages. Besides, they were at a coffee shop.
[Emily Littleton] He put his hand on her shoulder and Emily looked up. That far away something slipped away, fled from her expression and left her back in the present moment. It left her with that gnawing frustration she felt for the Initiate who had dragged the pair of Apprentices into this. It left her with the frustration she felt for frustrations like that, when she herself was still an Apprentice.
This city will drag you down, wear you out, wear you thin if you let it. Most days she weathered that well. Where her friends were concerned, Emily had more trouble with it.
"Hey, no worries," she says, offering him a small but genuine smile. "I'm sorry to go all rant-and-lecture at you. I just... Riley's a good friend, and you're important to her and seem like a good guy. I'd have hoped James would have had kept an eye out for both of you."
She sighs, looks at her stack of schoolwork and her empty iced coffee.
"I'd love some more coffee. Thanks."
Maybe they could go back to hi-how-are-you and oh-you're-Riley's-boyfriend, now. The change of subject hadn't gone so smoothly after all.
[Alexander Turnquist] He shook his head and smiled at her, slowly standing up from the table and grabbing both of their empty cups. "Hey honestly, dont worry about it, Riley's important to me too."
"Same again?" He would wait for her reply before slinking off, favouring his right leg favourable, almost a limp but more of a hop in his step to keep from putting too much pressure on the wounded left appendage. The que for coffee was small now, and he didn't take long for him to get the two iced coffees and return to the table.
He placed both of them down, one in front of her before sitting down himself. "What are you working on there anyway? You look like you've been at this for hours." He cast a few casual glances over her papers stacked on the desk.
[Emily Littleton] She notices the way he favors his foot, even after Israel healed it, and Emily's temper flares inwardly. She keeps a tight leash on it; she has to. When he comes back, Emily's slipped her computer into her messenger bag and lightened the clutter on the table top. The notebooks remain, and her pen sits atop them like some ornament or adornment.
"Ah, schoolwork. I'm trying to get a head start on the fall term," she tells him with a shrug and a smile that seems to imply it's never going to work. "I'm starting my graduate studies while I finish my baccalaureate, so every little bit helps, you know?"
She draws the iced drink across the table to where the other one used to rest.
"Cheers," she says, when he's settled again. The Briticism should be familiar; it's one of the most common. "And, ah, before you ask -- Engineering. I study computer science and engineering at Northwestern. In between fighting demons and lecturing fellow Apprentices." This last bit is warmer, almost apologetic.
[Alexander Turnquist] His mouth half opened to ask the exact question she had answered for him and a little grin crept into his face before he nodded and took a sip of the iced coffee.
"Wow, you're a busy little girl aren't you." He laughed, a happy sound though the end of it winced off slightly as he placed his foot down roughly. "I was never that diligent when I was at school thats for sure. I studied stats, didn't take long at all to finish. Nothing like engineering thats for sure."
He peered at her then and a curious look crept over his face.
"You asked earlier if I was a class-mate of Rileys, I didn't know she was a student! What's she studying? Probably something totally geeky." He said the words affectionately, with mocking humour.
[Emily Littleton] "From what I can tell? Riley just takes whatever classes interest her," Emily says, candidly. She seems to be pretty up front about it with Alex. She also doesn't rise to the bait of being called a little girl by someone obviously not that much older than her.
"I'm kind of envious. I've never given myself that kind of leeway to just explore, academically," she adds. There's plenty of differences between the geek girls, but Alex may have picked up on a few of the things that drew them together as friends originally. The fierce protectiveness may be one of them.
"Stats is still a lot of math," Emily says, in an approving tone. Goodness only knows what her reply might have been if he'd said he'd been a literature major, or an Arts student.
"I'm probably supposed to tell you that, if you hurt her, I'll have your head on a pike or something, but Riley can fight her own battles. So, ah, here's my friend-to-be-reckoned-with-speech." Emily's mouth curls a bit, but she's still serious. "Make her laugh, and guard the happiness you find in each other. Do that, and we'll be fine," she gestures between them, a classic you-and-me gesture. "Because she's pretty awesome, and I don't want this Awakened thing to bring that down."
[Alexander Turnquist] He seemed genuinely interested when she spoke about what classes riley was taking. He liked the idea of her just picking whatever classes interested her rather than sticking to a strict academic code. His shoulders gave a shrug and he grinned almost when she stated that stats was still a lot of maths. Sure it was maths, but it was very carefully structured and narrow maths. Nothing like the sort of maths that theoretical science required.
He was about to open his mouth to speak when she began to give him the 'don't you hurt my friend' speech. It was charming, cute almost. And very welcoming to hear. He was glad that Riley had friends that would look out for her like this.
"Hey you don't have anything to worry about from me. I have nothing but the best intentions for Riley, she's a total sweetheart." He smiled at her, a genuine smile and took a sip of his drink.
"You're right though, this awakened thing can sure bring someone down. I've had my fair share thats for sure."
He really liked Riley, he just hoped he wouldn't drag her into his problems too often. She could handle herself but it still killed him to see her going through shit she didn't have to. It was her choice though, she was very much a caregiver type.
[Emily Littleton] Emily eyes the other Apprentice for a moment, then says plainly:
"If you ever need to talk..."
It trails off, because they both know how that ends. She doesn't need to finish it. If he glances up to meet her eye, he'll find all seriousness and sympathy there. The push/fight has fled, for now. Then Emily shrugs, and breaks that moment. It isn't something to let linger.
"Do you have a mentor?" Emily asks him, plainly, just like that. She takes a sip of her coffee, while she waits on his answer. It's the sort of thing Apprentice might discuss, and it implied she hadn't read the note on the Chantry board. (Which wasn't entirely true [but Alex didn't need to know how embroiled she was in local politics just yet]).
[Alexander Turnquist] He raised an eyebrow at her and a curious look came over his face. Half calculating, half worry, half amusement. A whole lotta halves.
"A mentor?" He smiled at her, it was a devious smile.
"Yeah, I have a mentor. Ashton Winters, you heard of her?" A pause, he hadn't even told her what tradition he was from, she was bound to know now. "Wharil Choc lends his guidance from time to time too."
He didn't mention that until a week ago he had been without a mentor, or that when he arrived in Chicago he had done so because his previous (Crazy) mentor had gone and got himself killed trying to serve the wheel.
"What about you?" He asked politely, absently taking a sip of his coffee. Completely innocent.
[Emily Littleton] He asks if she knows Ashton, and Emily's brows go up. Then they lower again, and she chuckles. It's a warm sound, resonant.
"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I know Ashton."
It's exactly the sort of reply he should expect, now that he's worked with the Euthanatos Disciple some. She's resonant; she's memorable. If you know Ashton at all, she's left an indelible impression. Emily's surprise spreads to an appreciative little smile.
"It sounds like you're in good hands, then. Has Wharil handed you a notebook yet?" she asks, and the quirk to her lips doesn't yield, now. It's persistent. "If he hasn't, tell him I'm sorely disappointed and ask for one."
[Alexander Turnquist] That earned another curious look from the young Euthanatos and he sat back in his chair slightly straightening himself up.
"Wharil hasn't given me a notebook yet, though he might as well have with the way he talks. I mean MAN can he talk. And talk. And talk. I mean sure, its interesting and all, the history of our tradition and all that stuff but he finds it REALLY interesting, Ya know what I mean?" He grinned and took another sip of his drink, licking his lips slightly afterwards.
"How do you know Ashton and Wharil?"
[Emily Littleton] Alex doesn't know that Emily has a meeting, soon, that will put her at the same table as Wharil (who likes to talk) and Israel, as Ashley, too. He just knows that she's Riley's friend, and cabal-mate, that she has been around the block at least once, magically speaking.
"Ah, when I was still new, brand new, lost," she catches his eye for a moment, almost as if to affirm that he is not still in those first stumbling days (but he has a mentor and a Tradition, so he mustn't be). "Wharil was one of the first people I met. He and I played chess in the park, you can tell him I remember that if you want, and we talked about what it meant to be Awake. To have an Atmen," she uses his Tradition's word for it.
There's a fondness it how she speaks of Wharil, who is not so easy for most people's memories to grasp. It's respect, and appreciation.
"I babysit Marcelle sometimes," is all she says about how she knows his mentor.
[Alexander Turnquist] "Oh.." He muttered the word as she talked, he noticed the look from her but simply smiled, he too knew what it was like to be brand new and lost, hopefully that time had past though and he was moving forward. Her use of the word Atmen was not lost on the Euthanatos and he nodded his respect and appreciation at the word.
"He's good to talk to, he some how comes across as being of absolutely no threat. I'm sure it wouldn't be true if he had to act but it makes me comfortable around him." A pause. "Marcelle? Is that ashtons kid? i know she has a kid but I've never met her.. Her right?" He hadn't been able to tell by the random collection of toys that scattered ashtons living room.
"Maybe i'll see you around at ashton's some time if you're babysitting there. Though I haven't had a chance to meet up with her recently."
[Emily Littleton] "Marcelle's Ashton's daughter," Emily confirms, sipping from her coffee as she sorts through his other questions. "Mind, though. She's got quite an arm." Emily's eyes widen a little, warningly. She'd caught at least one throw-toy-to-the-face in her time at Ashton's so far, and it would be by no means the last.
"We'll probably run into each other there from time to time. I think I'm her second-string sitter, but I don't really mind. She's a remarkable woman, Ashton is. I'm glad you get to study with her."
He'd asked her about her mentor, and Emily had hedged. She couldn't just leave it an expect he wouldn't come back to it sooner or later. Better to answer what she could (what she wanted to) and let the rest hang.
"I woke up an Orphan. Many of the Initiates and Disciples in town have helped me find my way. I owe them all a debt of gratitude. I've chosen to join the Singers, so I'm studying with them now."
Which included James. Who was likely to get an earful from Emily, or her mystery mentor.
"Not exclusively, though. Ashley is helping me with Mind. I was hoping to ask Israel or Ashton to teach me more Life, in the not-too-distant future."
[Alexander Turnquist] He nods and sips at his coffee, almost spitting it out with a pfft when she mentions that marcelle has a strong arm. "She a bit of a trouble maker is she?" He grinned. How could she not be? With ashton for a mother?
"Ashton is great yeah, I'm going to learn a lot from her I can tell. Even if we aren't always on the same page. It's almost better that way ya know? Keeps us both on our toes."
He really didn't know much about orphans, it sounded horrible to him. To awaken with nobody to guide you, with no tradition, no beliefs to shape around yourself, to be able to see the world for what it was. He couldn't imagine a life without his tradition. Not yet anyway.
"So you have lots of mentors? or just one? Who's your main one if you had to pick one?"
[Emily Littleton] Emily's smile softened. It's a pretty thing, gentle and somewhat shaded. It doesn't outright say whatever Emily holds back, but it intimates that his question is not so simple as it sounds.
"Owen Page has helped me lately. Since I chose to join the Singers. I wouldn't say that I have a lot of mentors, as much that I keep an open mind and seek advice wherever I may find it. I didn't wake up as you might have, already on a path and with a clear impression of where I belong. It's been a struggle. He's helped me with that, moreover with navigating the very grey morality of some of our skills and responsibilities."
This is what she says. This and nothing more. It's candid, clear, and respectful. She adds, before Alex might press further:
"Father Ward has also helped me with these things on occasion. I don't think I see mentorship the same way you do." There's nothing wrong with that, Emily says. She just points out the differences, and leaves them be.
[Alexander Turnquist] Owen page, the name didn't mean anything to him. But this Owen Page seemed like had helped Emily out a great deal, Emily was a friend of Rileys so this Owen character was all right by Alex.
"Sounds like a hard life, being an Orphan. I dont know if I could have done it. You get my respect for that Emily." He nodded
Just then he felt a vibration at his leg, his bum lifted up off the chair enabling him to slide his hand down into the pocket to pull out his phone. He flipped it open and read the message. Riley. She wanted to know what he was up to, what he was doing. She hadn't contacted him since she had dropped him off on friday morning.
"It's Riley" He looked up, grinning. The text said she was just jumping in the shower and would give him a call in about 15 minutes.
"Emily its been great to meet you finally, I mean we saw each other before and all.. But yeah. It's good to get to know you a little better. I'm gonna have to jet though, you know how it is... " He grinned again.
[Emily Littleton] He says it's Riley and Emily's smile widens. She understands, and nods a bit at the grin Alex is suddenly sporting. It's nice to see; it's warming after so much trouble. If her own courtship wasn't so frought through with other troubles, Alex might have gotten to see a similar smile from the his coffee buddy.
"It's been really nice to meet you too, Alex," she says, and there's genuine warmth to it. He can tell, in that juxtaposition, just how cagey she can be because there is a palpable different to a friendly Emily smile.
"You guys have fun. I'm sure I'll catch up with you both, soon."
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