Extending sanctuary

[Emily Littleton] It's been a busy week for Emily's phone. Not any directly busier, necessarily, than other weeks but the topics at hand were weightier. She doesn't look burdened by it, the Singer, who walks through the park with a cup of coffee in a take-away paper cup. This girl who refuses to wear gloves or a hat in eleven degree weather. She's lived in colder; she's known warmer winters.

There's a particular bench in a particular stretch of the park that she's aiming for, but Emily takes her time in getting there. She's not used to worrying about who may be following whom, not overtly, not on US soil. Today she's cautious about how she gets to where she goes, so that she'll find herself at the particular point Elizabeth specified at a particular time, without seeming to be particular about it at all.

She offers a smile that's a little warmer than the first time they'd met. The Singer seems steady, something solid and unshaken by the past week. In truth, she carries a deep worry in her bones, full up against the moonbright there, it tarnishes the blue of her eyes, pulls the slate grey flecks forward, shapes the subtleties of her smile.

[Ellizabeth Zhao] The Asian-American woman has cleaned herself from the events of last week, and doesn't look as traumatized as anyone who had seen her there would have thought. For those who didn't see what went down at that warehouse in the shipping district, Elizabeth looked...different. She's a bit more skittish than Emily might know her...less confident than she normally is. Several times she’s had to rely on the fragments and half-whispers of memories from another life to bring her back to a state of grace in the last few days, and that's resulted in a bit of a patchwork psyche. The results, not a surprise, can be confusing for the Akashic.

As she makes her way through Grant Park though, she seems to be more or less on an even keel. There’s a sense of something much older to her than her twenty-nine years would suggest, and more formality than she's even used to showing off. She walks along the park toward the meeting place, keeping at eye out as she does for anything unusual.

As Emily comes into view, Elizabeth gives her a nod. She comes up, stopping about for feet away, and inclines her head.

"Miss Littleton. Good afternoon."

[Emily Littleton] [Aware as Empathy: Noticing little stuff.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Emily Littleton] There are subtle things amiss, and subtle things are often the only cues people in Emily's world give one another to their truer motivations. So the Singer notices, if only that there is something afoot here she does not yet understand. And the bow she returns to Elizabeth is a practiced and well-worn formality. Something engrained, as much of her as her accent however much at odds with one another the two might seem.

"Miss Zhao." They stand on a certain formality, a little ritual. It's a comfortable thing that bridges the distance between strangers and acquaintances well.

"I hope you are well," she opens, inviting a genuine response as much as something structured and polite. Emily doesn't ask about the quiet things she feels as much as sees fraying at Elizabeth's careful countenance. She doesn't often ask much of anything. Still the offer to listen holds, held out on the scaffolding of those few words.

She glances from the Akashic to the nearby bench. If Elizabeth moves that way, then Emily will sit. If not, she's perfectly comfortable with standing.

[Ellizabeth Zhao] Emily may also notice, besides the little differences in Elizabeth's tone and body language, her resonance is a shade different. It's the same resonance, but that male/female opposition that is Juxtaposed against itself is a little more balanced toward the masculine, aggressive side than it is the female, passive side. It's a very slight difference, easy to miss, but it is there.

She gives a polite smile and a little shrug. "I am as well as can be. Yourself?"

She gives a nod to the bench and moves to take a seat on it.

[Emily Littleton] Emily would not name the duality in Elizabeth as necessarily male/female, but perhaps that's only because they do not know each other very well yet. Or possibly because she's known someone who has crossed that divide before, and rendered even gender as something more multi-variate and diffuse for the Singer. As it is, she notices the change, but cannot name it.

It is enough to know that something has shifted. The what is not likely to be as important as the why.

"I..." Emily begins, but then chooses out of her usual adept evasiveness for something closer to the truth. "... am getting by."

She settles herself on the bench, resettles her scarf so it isn't trying to strangle her again.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be with you all when you went for the boy," she says. She lays this topic out bluntly, without preamble. Emily suspects it may be part of why they're meeting, and doesn't intend to make Elizabeth draw out introductions. "I heard it did not end well for everyone involved."

There's sympathy and empathy underlying those words, and a gentle note of concern in her eyes but there are notable absences in what she has said. Emily doesn't say what she's heard, precisely, or from whom. She lets Elizabeth fill in these gaps with her own assumptions. It's the easiest sort of half-truth: omission.

[Ellizabeth Zhao] She frowns, reaching up to brush an errant hair back as she nods. "Unfortunately, you heard correctly. It was...not an ideal situation, to say the least." She gets the hair brushed back and then looks at Emily...only to have the hair blow free again. The Akashic gives a look of irritation and lets the hair go.

"I am still attempting to process it all. I have never been..." She pauses, as if not sure what to say. "...I have never experienced such a situation. It will take me some time, I suppose. I am simply pleased to hear that the boy will be okay. Relatively speaking, anyway."

[Emily Littleton] Emily shifts a bit on the bench, so that her upper body is turned toward Elizabeth slightly, so that her posture seems open and echoes the offer her silences extend. It's not as warm and enveloping as some sorts of sympathy might be. She doesn't wrap her arm around the other woman's shoulder, pull her into an embrace. Emily has never been that woman, that warm, which is not to say she's frozen to her quick.

Just that the thaw is slow-coming this year. And that it still hurts.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asks. Nothing about her question implies that what has happened is beyond Elizabeth's capacity to cope, or handle things herself. She might facilitate, but Emily doesn't enable. It's a thin line. She marches it and seeks Temperance as she goes.

"This city doesn't go easy on anyone. She doesn't pull her punches. If you need a place to be, so that you're not alone while you sort things out, or just an ear, I can help."

Something about her words says: I've been where you are, and I have come out the other side.

[Ellizabeth Zhao] "I can handle the city," she says with a little shrug. "Wearing another person's insides as a mask is a bit more difficult, but I do not believe that there is anything that can be done in that respect short of time and distance, to forget about it."

She reaches up to scratch idly at her brow, as if talking about it brought back the sticky wet tingle of brain-spattered blood dripping down her face. She stops quickly enough and looks back to Elizabeth.

"Are you all right? I mean...I trust that nothing harmful held you back?" A little look around before she looks back to Emily. "I know that the Union seems to be moving on a couple individuals over the last few days, and was concerned that you may have been held up by a similar situation to that."

[Emily Littleton] There's a ripple in Emily's expression at what Elizabeth says. Anyone would be taken aback, at least slightly. The Singer glances away, and down. Her brow furrows. The corners of her mouth tighten.

"Nothing more harmful than University redtape," she assures Elizabeth. "I had to present my research project to the funding committee, and it over-ran. It's not exactly something I can walk out of to help save the world, without drawing attention, given my field."

The early events of this week have cast that in sharp relief for her. Ashley won't be going back to the University, it would be easy to catch her out there. Jim hadn't said as much, but it was clear enough in his silences.

"I may understand how you're feeling. A little less than a year ago, another Singer and I had to carry and bury a baby girl whose mother drowned her in a fountain. We gave her brother over to the Chorus for safekeeping. It was... horrible, but at least we could blame what happened on a clear and knowable evil. This? Isn't as clear cut.

"It takes time."

[Ellizabeth Zhao] Elizabeth gives a little nod as she listens. There is sympathy in her eyes as Emily recounts what she had been through. She is not so far damaged by the event that her abolity to empathize has been shut down, and she nods a little with a frown.

"That would be...very difficult. I can understand how hard that must have been for you." She pauses. "I generally do not believe in clear-cut. when humanity is involved. Yes, there is evil. There are those who used to be human who have been taken over by something worse, given there souls to something dark and then there are true monsters. There was nothing clear-cut about this situation, except to say that there was a significant waste of human life because of it."

A sigh, and she smiles a bit more warmly. "I shall be fine." She pauses. "You have heard about Miss Quincannon and Miss McGowan's homes, then?"

[Emily Littleton] "It was," Emily says.

"It still is," she adds, because things like that are carried along, scored into her bones. They do not leave her when the memory fades. She is not the sieve she pretends to be. She is something more steady, more solid than that.

"But I don't mention it to gather your sympathies. Rather to extend my own. And to underscore the offer I extend: you are welcome in my home, if you need a place to be. It is quiet. Few visit. There's a cat and a fireplace and it is largely a place apart, unlike The House."

She leaves it there, between them, and moves on to the question that Elizabeth asked.

"I have heard. I've spoken with Miss McGowan's father, as well. It seems she was forewarned, about an hour before the raid someone threw a brick through her window with a note tied to it."

This concerns the Singer. Worries at her margins. It is part of what she carries that is just below the surface.

"I have not followed up on Miss Quincannon's message yet, though Molly is resourceful. I am certain she is as well as can be expected."

[Ellizabeth Zhao] "She is." Elizabeth nods a little. "I learned about it when I spoke with her yesterday. She is fine, simply staying under the radar with her ferrets."

The Akashic gives another look around. Mere mention of the Technocracy is enough to make her a little paranoid. Her experiences with the group is limited, but she has heard more than enough to know that when they're on elevated alert, so should she. If she wants to stay alive and not completely screwed, that is.

"Your offer of a place to stay...I may accept it. In the current situation, it is not a wise idea to be living from hotel to hotel. There is simply too much of a paper trail and being isolated is not what we need right now."

[Emily Littleton] "If you're staying in hotels, then I've half a mind to insist," Emily says, lightly, without prodding overmuch. She has more experience with travel than many suspect, and finds most of the reasonably priced accomodations in town somewhat lacking. "But, of course, it's just an offer."

Her smile warms a little bit. They're talking about this as a pragmatic, perfunctory thing. It isn't. Emily does not extend this invitation to everyone, and while her judgment has been lacking in the past Elizabeth sharing space with her raises no red flags in her mind.

"It makes me uncomfortable, that the Union activity is increasing. I can't say I'm the most cautious person in town, but even I feel the need to go to ground. I'm keeping my life simple, pared down and quiet. It's the best I know how to do."

[Ellizabeth Zhao] The Akashic takes a deep breath, nodding. She certainly understands the need to go to ground, and keeping things simple. 'Simple' and 'pared down' pretty much defines how Elizabeth carries on her existence. She nods a little.

"Miss Quincannon said that she doesn't believe this is provoked by the situation involving Benjamin, that it comes from the situation that came up a bit further back with the node within the...asylum." She frowns, rubbing her temple as she talks about that situation. Something about the sentence she just said gives the impression that institutions are not pleasant places for her. It's over quickly though, and she looks to Emily.

"Still, I would rather play it safe as opposed to sorry. If the offer is open, then I accept with gratitude."

[Emily Littleton] "Ah, the Asylum," Emily echoes. There is an echoing tension in her reply. The set of her mouth. That situation, rather than its setting, evokes a strong reaction in her, muffled by layers of social training and innate evasiveness. What surfaces is enough to give the impression that she is still upset, in part, by what happened there.

It's unknown to Emily whether Elizabeth even knows what the Singer was asked to do. What her gifts were turned toward that night. She doesn't like it, even now, even knowing the necessity there.

"I think that's even more worrisome, personally," she says, in her clipped consonants and Manchester vowels.

Elizabeth accepts, and Emily nods just once. "Shall we, then? The flat is warmer than the park, and I think you'll approve of the tea selection, too."

She says these things to help break up the oddity of being swept home with a near stranger. Some strangenesses are part and partial to their world. At least the ascetic would not feel hemmed in by clutter at the Initiate's home. Emily has a spare key, for just these occurrences. A handful of locals have had use of it, from time to time.

[Ellizabeth Zhao] A little smile and she rises from the bench, nodding slightly. While she is certainly not exactly herself at the moment, she is mostly herself. She's always at least mostly herself; it's not split personality, after all. It's simply the influences of her past incarnations along the Akashakarma making their presence known from time to time. Thus, she gives the woman a warm smile, the expression in her eyes grateful.

"Thank you, Miss L...Emily." She transitions to a first name with effort, if only the one time. "Yes, indeed...let us go."

[Emily Littleton] [ Fade and exit stage left! ]

[Ellizabeth Zhao] [[Yay! Thank you for scenes!]]