[Emily Littleton] Soup's on, just as promised. It's a hearty thing. Something that will fill up even Hunger, and still leave leftovers to send home with Emily's fellow graduate student. The apartment is warm, and the near perpetual fire burns low in the hearth. The drift of paperwork at the uncomfortable table has shifted, but yielded no ground: the war wages on, ever onward.
The Singer is wearing a soft blue-grey sweater and a pair of jeans that are dark enough to not show their grain. She wears socks, a slight acquiescence to winter and hard floors, or kittens and claws. Her hair is down, and falls in loose waves: they are better kempt; she has cut it recently. The kitten has sated her voracious appetite for the destruction of textiles by shredding a toy Emily brought her from the pet store. An is stretched out in its fabric remains, basking in the warmth of the firelight, leaving her chair seemingly open for occupation (it is a trap). Her tail twitches back and forth, but her eyes are lidded and her whiskers still.
The door stands a little ajar, letting the smell of fresh baked herb bread and simmering soup draw in Hunger without requiring her to stand on ceremony. When Ashley knocks, Emily will call for her to Come in, and then start toward the kitchen to see about setting up two big servings of dinner.
They'll pass in the entryway, and Emily will smile.
"Make yourself comfortable," is more than lip-service in her flat. "And do you want butter with your bread?"
[Ashley McGowen] By the time she's gotten to Emily's floor Ashley can already smell bread, and it's mouthwatering. Something she doesn't seem to get sick of, in spite of all of Morgan's baking over at her apartment (Morgan tends to make much more sugary fare, generally.)
The semester has already run Ashley a touch ragged. She's managing two classes now, and that means double the coursework and double the office hours and double the papers and quizzes to grade. Still, even so, it's probably better for her than not having much to do at all; Ashley may complain but she's the sort of person who does much better when she's kept busy. When her hands aren't left idle.
That always gives her a lot of time to think about things.
She, too, smiles a little when she passes Emily in the entrance to her flat. Inside the door Ashley pulls off her coat and scarf, hanging them up in the closet (she knows where to put it) and then bending down to tug off her boots, which is easier said than done. Each comes off with a bit of a jerk, and once her feet are finally freed, she passes into the flat's main room and looks at the cat near the fire. "Sure," she says, as she settles down on the couch. She's not fooled by An's seemingly relaxed pose; Ashley has enough experience with cats these days to know that it's an act, that she'd probably spring upon Ashley's hand like a beartrap if she leaned down to pet her.
Then she leans over to watch the Singer, her hair cascading down in front of her face while she does so. "How're you, Em?"
[Emily Littleton] Emily usually serves the Hermetic more than she imagines Ashley can reasonably eat, plus another spoonful of something, with the sinking suspicion that it will still not be enough to sate her. Then again, she also assumes that Ashley, who is more a friend than anything else these days, will ask for or serve herself seconds if some gnawing lack still echoes in her stomach.
"Pretty good," the Singer answers. "I'm keeping busy, and trying not to develop too sharp a disdain for undergraduates while I am technically still one of them." She smirks; it's a familiar and welcome expression. Dark amusement touches her features, brightens the corners of her eyes.
"Here. I need hands. You'll have to carry your own," she tells her, setting the bowl-sized mug and its companion plate of warm bread out for Ashley to claim. The travel between the kitchen and the couch is not far, but Emily wants to serve her own meal rather than transit repeatedly.
"How about you? Is your semester going well?"
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley has never described the push of her Avatar to Emily. She often does look unsatisfied after meals, regardless of how much she's given; this is largely because once things are finished, no matter how much she eats, that feeling returns. She could eat until she burst and it would likely still not be enough to quiet her stomach, or anything else.
Emily's suspicions are correct. But Ashley seems happy enough to get what she gets.
She gets up to go and retrieve her bowl and plate when beckoned, accepting one in each hand and making sure that her grip on the soup mug is quite firm before she accepts the plate. It's all too easy for her to gauge distance the wrong way and trip and fall, or at least spill a little, though thankfully after ten years such occurrences have become far more infrequent. "Thanks," she says once she's accepted, then starts back over toward her seat on the couch.
Her semester. "It's had its good points," Ashley says after a thoughtful moment. "Very busy, though. I'm kind of wondering how I'm going to fit everything in once I start on my doctorate next fall."
[Emily Littleton] Ashley has never described her Avatar to Emily, but Emily has had Ashley inside of her mind. It leaves a certain impression, and understanding (an uneasiness). She forgets sometimes that Ashley's depth perception is not completely whole. She doesn't think of the Adept as anything less than that, adept, even given her handicaps.
Emily brings her own meal to the table. Its portions are notably smaller, but not scant.
"Are you staying on at Northwestern for it, or will you be changing campuses?" Emily asks. It is unusual, she has been told, for a person to do successive degrees within the same department of the same University. Of course, Emily is continuing on at the same department, so it cannot be all that unusual. She suspects there is as much misinformation and misdirection about higher education as their is with the magical Arts.
The Singer settles herself at one end of the couch so that Ashley can occupy the other.
[Ashley McGowen] "I was accepted there for a five-year program, actually," she says. "With the understanding that I would be staying on for my doctorate." This is done more frequently in the social sciences, at the very least. "So yeah, I'll still be there next year. Here for at least the next three, probably." Hopefully. Ashley has heard stories of people who had their dissertations rejected, who spent a year or more reworking it and a year or more putting off other plans.
Still, failure is not an idea Ashley readily entertains. If a person begins to doubt their Will, they've already conceded, and it has been indoctrinated into her for almost ten years now that there is no room in a Hermetic's life for such things.
She settles herself on the couch and picks up a slice of bread, dunking it into the soup before taking a bite. "So," she says after she's had a moment to chew at it, thoughtful, "Gabriel. What did you find out?"
[Emily Littleton] So.
Gabriel...
Emily takes a moment before answering to collect her thoughts. She's done this more since she returned from wherever Winter took her. It's a positive change, but it heralds something else in her that remains to be seen, just yet. The Singer runs the tip of her tongue over her eyetooth, then says:
"He's exceptionally well spoken."
This is no starry-eyed fangirl's appraisment, but a wary remark. She has sized up the Messengers' front man in many ways during their brief conversation, and she's telling Ashley that he is dangerously charismatic. That Gabriel's commanding presence, and his command of it, will be a problem for them.
"And remarkably controlled. I pushed -- on purpose, mind -- and he stayed on message. Even when it got personal. And, mark this Ashley, it is personal for them, especially for Gabriel. This is no missive from above, or it is no longer simply such. They'll see this through, with us or without us; he's fully committed to their path."
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley had suspected this, the moment Emily thought to compare him to Bran. It was why she was so wary the moment the association clicked for her as much as it did Emily. Convicted men with silver tongues can get people to make all sorts of sacrifices, when it comes to their cause. When it comes to their agenda. If they seem like a visionary so much the better.
"Yeah, I thought so," Ashley says, and her mouth thins just a little. "I also didn't think they'd be easily put off. Which is going to be a problem if we decide not to kill the Technocrat."
It has the potential to carve severe lines through Chicago's magi, really. Ashley doesn't necessarily mind - she does not shy away from conflict, and all told she thinks it will probably be beneficial - but the thought of dealing with it right now has a bit of tension collecting between her eyebrows. It'll work its way back around the left side of her head, to down beneath her ears and to the base of her skull. Just give it some time.
"Did you get an idea of what the personal bit is?"
[Emily Littleton] [Subterfuge: No, I have no idea at all. And it's clearly not clouding my judgment in the slightest.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Ashley McGowen] [Really?]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 5, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 8)
[Emily Littleton] This is part of what Emily did. Bartered on the good will she built up with people. Bent the edges of the truth, subtly obscured things. Sometimes it was necessary to move things along, and other times it was to protect or gentle a situation for someone she cared about. Tonight, she fails to answer the Dean's question, her friend's question entirely.
"No, he really didn't get into it," she says. Which is true, line for letter. But she'd taken far more information away from that interchange that what Gabriel said alone. "Like us, they keep some things very quiet. But he didn't have to say much to get that point across, you know?"
Emily lilted the question Ashley's way, and then changed the subject to something a bit more concrete.
"He is absolutely adamant that Ben is dangerous, and anyone that approaches him will be in direct danger. Which of course, leads me to think of Molly. I got called out on for being short sighted when I said some of our own may want to talk to him directly -- I didn't name names with him. His reaction to the mention of the possibility that was had impetus and well-proven recklessness on our side was strong enough for me to know better than that."
This bit rings true. There's nothing held back or abstracted. It is part of the redirection, but it's a good lie. It holds a kernel of truth that cannot be disputed. Emily is good at what she does; tonight Ashley is better.
[Emily Littleton] Whatever Emily is holding back is important. Maybe not contextually, but to the Singer. It is a thing she identifies with; it's something Gabriel has said that binds her to his purpose. In talking, the Choristers found common ground.
That much is not surprising.
That it leads Emily to make an emotionally-motivated omission, for a near stranger, in a dangerous situation should be at least unexpected.
[Ashley McGowen] There's something gnawing at the back of Ashley's mind that, at first, she could probably have taken as the (anticipated) start of one of the migraines that happen all-too-frequently (one doesn't sustain that kind of head trauma without lasting aches.) Emily's words ring true enough. They ring like Emily's words, and generally Ashley isn't too aware of the Singer's talent for misdirection.
She has been misdirected or has successfully overlooked what Emily wanted her to overlook so often, you see.
But there's something troubling about all of it. Ashley wouldn't be able to describe what it was that made her suspect if she tried; that just isn't how she understands the world around her. What she does know, suddenly and in her gut, is that this is not all of it. She knows Emily and she knows charismatic, cause-driven men.
"I'm not terribly inclined to just take his word for it," Ashley says. "Any Willworker is dangerous." And, just like that, it isn't too hard to imagine her taking Ben's side just for the sake of opposition. Just so she isn't going along with someone else, someone better with other people than she, just for the challenge. Ashley does these things. Some people have dismissed it as a tendency to be contrary; perhaps that's all it is.
There's another moment where she eyes the Singer. She's stopped eating. "You're lying to me," she says, flatly, and with utter certainty. There's no anger there, and no threat. But she doesn't sound happy.
[Emily Littleton] "I'm not lying to you," Emily says, flatly. "I'm not disclosing someone else's personal matters. Especially when I have only suspicion, and a few suggestive phrases to go on."
Her expression pinches for a moment, and she brings her hand up to smooth her thumb against he curve of her brow. It feels like a headache of her own, brewing just behind her eye.
"What if I told you Ben kicked his puppy and he's irrationally motivated based on that? Or that someone in their cabal had been used for testing this drug? Or that someone he loved was involved?" Each question seems equally unlikely, the way Emily phrases them.
"It doesn't matter the particulars of the motivation, just that it's there. And it's immovable. And a thing we'll have to deal with, if you, or Molly, or Kage, or anyone else decide that protecting the Technocrat is worth going up against a highly-motivated, road-weary, and emotionally-engaged group of Traditionalists."
[Ashley McGowen] There's a shift. Subtle, but present. "If someone else's personal matters might potentially put this chantry in danger, you had better tell me. You know why, and you know it will be useful in securing things here."
Each question seems equally unlikely, and truthfully, Ashley has no idea what Gabriel might have told Emily. She has no idea what personal stake there might be in this; there could be any. She's heard a lot of stories from Traditionalists the Technocracy has hurt. She's fought against them for a long time.
Her former cabal sought, for a long time, to start a second Ascension War. She knows.
"If we end up killing him or handing him over to them anyway, fine, but I'm not going to kill him just because some Chorister with a way with Words says so, and I won't have my hand forced."
[Emily Littleton] "Ashley, I brought this to you specifically because it endangers the Chantry. And I told you that there's an emotional motivation beyond his connection to the Rouge Council and that it's significant enough for me to consider him resolute and immovable.
"We would not be having this conversation if I wasn't aware of the very thing you're bringing up. I don't know what, precisely, it is that happened that's made this personal for them. He wouldn't tell me. Only that he'd made a promise to someone he loved, and that that takes precedence over full disclosure to strangers."
This is everything she knows, laid out, coolly, clinically, with a measure of contained frustration. The last bit, though, that someone he loved had bound him by promise somehow, this is the thing that she had kept back. It is not so very great, but it's easy to see what it might be compelling to Emily in context.
"I have also told you that he is compelling, that that very quality makes him dangerous. We're not on different pages here. And I'm not asking you to follow anything he's said, or necessarily oppose it. I am trying to warn you, not to make any decisions for you -- I know how I feel about things, but the information I have is likewise incomplete."
She does not give the Hermetic the satisfaction any other outward signs of frustration. Instead, Emily breaks a little piece off her bread and dunks it in her soup before eating it. She is not Molly; she has not run off into something without telling someone where she was going, without checking in immediately after, and without offering up what she knows freely.
[Ashley McGowen] It's easy to see why it would be compelling to Emily, and once she senses that the Singer has told her everything she knows, that flare of Hunger fades away. Or, more appropriately, redirects itself back to the food in front of her. She pokes for a moment at the slice of bread with only a bite taken from it, considering.
"I suppose it doesn't entirely matter what it was he promised to do," she agrees, after a moment. "But it's probably better to get some idea of what it might be, in case things come to a head with them."
It's something that probably isn't easy to be reminded of, when it comes from a friend. Ashley regards information about other people as just that: a commodity, a tool. In most cases. Most of the time it's debatable whether or not she really regards most other people as people, or whether it's just a certain few, a handful, who have earned that distinction from her and have become more than part of her environment. More than part of the reality around her to be bent to her Will.
"Once we get a hold of Ben, I'll see whether it changes anything. It probably won't. If it doesn't, as far as I'm concerned, Gabriel can have him."
A beat. "Don't lie to me again."
[Emily Littleton] Don't lie to me again, Ashley says.
Emily goes not promise that she won't. There is a pointedly silence, in which the once-Orphan's expression is easy to read, and seems to ask whether Ashley really wants false promises in lieu of self-aware truths. Emily would lie to her again. And it would likewise be about a small part of a larger tapestry. Ashley would push buttons again.
They are what the are.
"I'm working on things with Gabriel. I called an apologized for pushing; he returned my call. If we can develop an understanding, then perhaps we'll be able to work together on this. But that would mean our side would have to attempt some sort of cohesion as well, and I don't speak for the Chantry, nor can I pretend to any longer as an Emissary.
"Politically, I have no footing to influence this, but they don't have to know that. If you can work with the other Cabals, I'll try to bridge the gap with Gabriel's group."
[Ashley McGowen] Mention of the other cabals just drives the furrow between the Hermetic's brows even deeper. Ashley sighs and sops up more of her soup with the bread, and there's a pause while she chews. Not very long; soaked bread passes down quite easily, after all.
When she does speak, her voice sounds a little bitter. "I doubt working with the other cabals will give us much," she says. "I haven't heard from Wharil in over a month. I barely see Gregor. The idea of giving Molly's cabal terribly free rein on this might be one of the worst passing notions I've ever had and if we involve the Guardians, Solomon is going to force our hand. Probably by shooting someone. Or everyone."
One hand sneaks up to her left temple, pauses a moment and then lowers to the hinge of her jaw. She digs her fingertips into the bunch of muscle there and works it carefully. Then she says, "So in other words, do what you need to do. I'll try to develop something cohesive with the people we already have involved, instead of taking it into cabal territory."
[Emily Littleton] [WP: ... Just because Ashley's right, and it sounds like a particularly cliche movie pitch, does not mean it's okay to laugh in a serious discussion.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 4, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] Ashley sounds bitter about local politics, and it is all so very familiar to Emily who -- through her magnificent sense of self-restraint -- only allows the wry amusemsen she feels to manifest as the curl of an echoing smile, a flash of laughter in her dark blue eyes.
"Alright," she says, managing to school the amusement from her voice as well. "I should probably touch base with Thomas and Lara to see what they've learned. But if we don't want the Guardians involved, then we probably need to make it seem like we have things handled without them. Present a viable alternative leadership -- that's you, or maybe you and Kage or even the three of us stepping forward to say We've got this, fill us in on what you know and we'll handle dealing with the Messengers. Several people take things to Israel as a sounding board, and that leads to getting Solomon involved."
A beat. And a smirk.
"And his guns."
[Ashley McGowen] "I'm going to be talking to Nora soon," Ashley says. "So I'll let you know if I find anything out on that front."
And when mention of the three of them, her and Emily and Kage, is made, Ashley looks a touch wistful for a moment. "Maybe," she says. "I mean, I agree with you as far as it goes with Israel and Solomon. I think the Guardians want a little time off, though."
Understandably so, really; they've been the frontliners in the last few major conflicts the city has had. Ashley does not begrudge them that. She, after all, often gets involved but it rarely puts her life on the line.
"I do more shit with the two of you than I do with my actual cabal."
[Emily Littleton] "That's because we're awesome," Emily says, with a little faux-modesty for show. "And we have good food." The grin she offers serves to soften the wistfulness Ashley's showing, to mirror it and to let it be an easy admittance. She won't tell anyone that Ashley hoped, for a moment, something she didn't even dare to disclose.
Occasionally Emily knew when to keep her mouth shut. Discretion was the better part of valor.
"I imagine they'd like a break, too. So we'll just keep in touch, and hope this thing doesn't go off the rails before we sort it all out. Let me know if you go looking for Benjamin. I usually don't get caught up on my... omissions," she admits, verbally tipping her hat to the Hermetic.
"It may be worth considering going at that interview as a team. I'm sure, between our strengths, we could learn quite a bit from him."
[Ashley McGowen] "I have no interest in going to look for him myself," says Ashley, who leaves any response she might have to Emily's lighthearted remarks unsaid. Apparently whatever she'd hoped, even she doesn't dare to disclose it. Perhaps there will be a point, someday.
"I was hoping to get you or Kage to go along with Molly," she adds, after a beat. "Molly's probably getting impatient, so the sooner I can send one of you along with her the better. But I don't want to talk to some guy who is cowering and hoping that the globe-spanning conspiracy doesn't notice him. I doubt he'd talk to me, and I doubt I'd have much to say to him at first."
Better to let someone else coax him out of hiding, as far as she's concerned. Someone gentler. "Or I could just go track him down myself and pull everything we need to know from his head, and leave it at that."
Which isn't just an idle thought. She gives it a moment's thorough consideration. "But maybe after you guys have made contact, we can try going as a team after that."
[Emily Littleton] Ashley is doing that thing, where she puts it on the table that someone should go with Molly. And then waits for volunteers. Neither Kage nor Emily had volunteered last time they spoke. Emily's not volunteering now. This was a very simple manipulative ploy, and she wasn't falling into it.
Not without making Ashley work for it, just a little.
"Mmm, well you'd better sort that quickly, then, as I doubt Molly's waiting on volunteers if her past record says anything." Then a pause. "Did you ask her to wait? Did she say that she would?"
"When did you speak with her last?"
[Ashley McGowen] "She didn't say so explicitly, but I mentioned that it would be better to hold off until we could get someone else to go along with her. Someone doing that kind of thing alone is just asking for her to get picked up and turned over and then the Technocracy has a lot of information and..." Ashley waves her hand dismissively, and has picked up her spoon now.
"I talked with her about a week ago. This probably isn't the kind of thing that should wait, though."
There was a flicker of impatience when Emily suggests that she'd better sort it quickly. Or perhaps less impatience than simple irritation or frustration. "I'll ask Kage," she says, after a silence. "Or...fuck. Anybody from Molly's cabal, I guess. Atlas usually has a level head."
[Emily Littleton] "Ashley, if you want me to call her, just ask. Explicitly. I'd be happy to, but I'm not going to volunteer to be responsible for Acts of Molly. It's against my better sense of self-preservation," Emily says, in answer to that flicker of impatience.
And if Ashley asks her to, rather than implies until she is forced to accept it as her duty by proxy, then Emily would be happy to call the Cultist and sort things.
[Ashley McGowen] "If you want me to start ordering you to do things, I can and will," Ashley says, with a sidelong glance toward Emily, "but I'd rather not. I'm not asking you to be responsible for the Acts of Molly, I thought you might want to step up and do something instead of complaining when things don't go your way, like half this fucking city does. You should be able to do things without me telling you to do it."
And, again, that irritation. "If you don't want to go, then don't let me obligate you."
Perhaps it's lashing out; some might call it petulant. Perhaps it is both those things, influenced at least in part by the fact that the Dean (or Deacon - whatever others might prefer to call it) feels a little worn thin, at the moment.
There's a beat, and another flash of her eyes in Emily's direction. "Go with her."
[Emily Littleton] [Unmarked Rolls!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 7, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] [Oh my!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6) [WP]
[Emily Littleton] There's a quiet. It's a long quiet. It stretches. It's tense. It breaks.
Some people might look to Ashley with a note of concern, to push a bit to find what source or origin that flash of anger stemmed from. Emily, tonight, is not that person. Instead she bites back her first response, swallows it down so tightly that it may not have ever even threatened to surface. She says, carefully, with her clipped consonants and her Manchester vowels: "There's a difference between telling and asking, Ashley."
It is very calm. Too calm. Calm enough to be warningly so.
"I'll call Molly in the morning," she says, and rises from the couch. "I'll pack you up some soup to take home."
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley, perhaps, does not understand the difference between telling and asking. She never has. Ashley is not the sort of person who asks for things. Victoria Kurtz told her once, very early, that reality doesn't bend because a Hermetic politely asks it to do so, with a please and thank you. It bends because it's forced to change. It has stuck with her since.
It's not easy to have a friend with this kind of mentality. It's not easy to remain friends with someone with this kind of mentality. Ashley might understand that, if Ashley bothered (or were capable) of seeing herself from the perspective of someone else; she isn't though.
It might be that Emily's response meets with a little skepticism, or perhaps it's just cynicism. "All right," she says to Emily. "I'll tell you what I find out, from Nora." She's almost done, but she eats the rest rather quickly.
A dismissal, at least, she recognizes.
[Emily Littleton] It is a dismissal. Emily is not really as patient as the Monists she's known. She lacks that abiding sense of ablution and calm. She is a sharper thing, gentled by the politenesses she chooses to keep, softened by a bent truth here or a careful omission there. There are reasons she is called to the Guardian Orders and they have nothing to do with volunteering herself for losing propositions or weathering the abrasive sides of other people's personalities.
Except that she likes Ashley, nine days out of ten. Even in their worst stretches, she likes her three of five. It's still a solid majority, when you whittle down their differences and stack them up against their strengths. She takes the Hermetic as she is, strange and willful reluctance for leadership and bald social skills. Ashley, in turn, takes Emily as she is -- mostly.
She packs up some of the soup in a take away container and seals it. She wraps up a large hunk of the bread. She's angry enough to send Ashley away, but she still sends her away with gifts. Emily doesn't lose her sense of self to the anger, and she doesn't try to argue with Ashley's feelings.
"We'll touch base in a few days. If you don't hear from me, send a search party." Here her mouth twitches upward at the corners, just slightly. "Start at Molly's..." She hands over the leftovers once Ashley's shrugged into her coat and once again, they part on sharp terms. It seems to be their lot.
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