Confessor

[K. R. Jakes]
The Orphan who left (quiet [wordless]) the white fence house (Gregor, Ashley) did not go far. The moon is hidden by the clouds and her eyes are dry as pages in a book, which may be why she is blinking at the clouds [runes (tell me a story)]. Or maybe her gaze isn't even going that far -- maybe she's just looking at the smoke that curls (subtle) up from the end of her lit cigarette, which she is holding in front of her mouth, but not smoking right now.



The door opens, and Kage glances over her shoulder. When she sees Ashley, she quirks an eyebrow, but will wait until the shorter willworker has crossed the lawn and come within easy speaking range before she says anything. We'll start with: "I thought you were heading back to the pages."



[Ashley McGowen]
"I don't think I can really focus right now," Ashley says, looking back at Kage. Noting the cigarette. Kage didn't seem like the smoking type, but everyone has their vices when they're upset. Ashley's is Jameson. She's been through a few bottles in the past few weeks.



"...Sorry. I know we still have some more to get done, but I just..."



[K. R. Jakes]
"That's okay," Kage says, regarding the diminutive Hermetic for a quiet second. As usual, Kage is far from emotionless, but also far from easily read. Her expressions can be eloquent, but more often, they're subtle things. Like now. "I'll drive you back to your place. Just let me," finish her cancer stick, apparently. She takes a drag of her cigarette, the end flares to life like one [baleful] eye slit open underneath a dark, dark bed when you [10 years old] are all alone. Flares to life like a spark scraping against wind, and then she stubs it out on the button of her coat and drops what's left into her pocket. Kage cants her head this-a-way, toward the truck. No questions?



[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley is not quite an open book, but generally she makes little effort to hide how she is feeling. She is controlled, exercising her Will where it needs to be exercised, but she usually lets it be known when she's feeling angry. Or upset, or frightened, or on those few occasions when Kage has seen her happy, smiling and content.



She's much harder to read right now. She's quiet, subdued, and seems to have shrunken somehow, retreating further into the folds of her coat. Shrugging it up over the lower half of her face, hands balled in the always-crowded pockets. "You don't have to do that," she tells Kage. "Stay here and finish some of the work. I'll be fine, I just need a couple of hours."



[K. R. Jakes]
"I know what I have to do. Don't worry about it," she says, pulling her car keys out of her pocket as she speaks. They jingle, low music. "Besides, the work break has yet to feel like a break."



And it would seem that she doesn't have any questions. The world is still turning, right? But asking questions isn't Kage's only way of dealing with [strife (passion)] conflict. It's just the first way.



[Ashley McGowen]
"Yeah, I guess that's true," Ashley says, lowering her hand to her stomach, suddenly aware that she never got that sandwich from the refrigerator. Oh well, better to leave the food for Gregor and Henri anyway.



The Hermetic looks sidelong at the car keys that are jingling in Kage's hand, listening to that near-music for a moment, the way they could almost fit into a rhythm and sort into melody. "All right. Guess it's better than freezing my ass off for two miles, huh."



And, shrugging farther into the warm, safe folds of the jacket, the Hermetic trails after Kage to the truck.



[K. R. Jakes]
"Feel free to talk my ear off," she says, once they're at her truck, and she has unlocked it. "If there's anything you want to say, I'm listening to you."



[Ashley McGowen]
The passenger side door of the truck swings open and Ashley climbs in, wrapping a hand around the handle that hangs just above the door for just such a purpose and hauling herself up into it. She takes a moment to settle into the seat, adjusting herself after the undignified climb in; it can be difficult for the small in stature to appear graceful when it comes to such day to day activities.



And then she turns her head to look at Kage so that she can regard her out of her right eye, keeping the left tilted against the seat, and after a moment leaned against the headrest. As though it's too much effort for the time being to keep it up, and she wants a place to put it down while she thinks. She doesn't know when the last time was that she had someone openly offer a sympathetic ear. She doesn't know whether it's an offer she should accept, either, or whether she should try to press on and get it together on her own.



"I guess I'm just sort of burned out," she tells Kage finally. "...I feel like I've fucked up a lot lately. And done a couple of things right, too, but people don't notice that." She straightens, then, turning around and redirecting her gaze out through the windshield, hands in her lap. "Whining about it isn't going to do anything, though. But thanks."



[K. R. Jakes]
"They notice the things you do right," she offers, not immediately. They're driving again, and Kage is (today) a safe driver; careful of the corners, careful of the black ice (which waits, invisible, to throw people like pennies, make a wish, and break 'em). "Otherwise, why would they criticize you when and if you fuck up?"



[Ashley McGowen]
"I suppose so." This doesn't appear to be a particularly comforting point, especially under further consideration. Ashley bows her head and is quiet for a while, apparently at ease with Kage's driving. Black ice or not. A perpetual passenger, placing her trust in the skill of others.



"...Still feel like he and Henri are just looking for a bad guy, though. I mean, what would anyone else have done? It's not like I tried to invade her privacy or hurt her. Just stop her from running."



[K. R. Jakes]
"How ..." Kage halfglances at Ashley. Her expression is careful [but, like cupping water, water runs; eloquence bleeds out], but not as careful as it could be. She looks bemused, or baffled. "Maybe she didn't understand what you were doing. But ... even if she had, you tried to take away her choice. How ... isn't that an invasion of privacy?"



[Ashley McGowen]
"But I didn't try to break into her mind or look at memories or do anything invasive," Ashley protests, and when her gaze meet's Kage's, it's clear that she actually believes this. That she has absolutely -no- idea why anyone else would be, should be, upset about this. "I mean. You're trying to persuade her and hold her in the chantry. How is that taking away her choice any less? How is that any -better-?"



[K. R. Jakes]
"I am not trying to persuade Henri of anything now," Kage says, frowning at the street. At the snow, at the shape a waft of steam from the gutter takes; at Him, quiet in the backseat, looking patiently out the window (and unseen). She doesn't sound petulant, or bitter, just matter of fact, just quiet. More quiet than anything else. "And there is a difference between persuasion and coercion. I mean, it's choice, Ashley," and there is something in her voice; something soft, raked over, autumn-leaves, something like soot, like ashes, silk. Choice was a big thing in the bible. Maybe this is her Celestial Chorister roots [let's not call it what it isn't] showing. "But you are right: Henri was probably looking to make a bad guy. Something she could argue with. Something fair."



[Ashley McGowen]
"There are a lot of times when you don't get choices due to external forces. You deal with it. And if Henri -had- found Dylan and had been turned into another Marauder, one mental impulse pretty much pales in comparison," Ashley says, with a shake of her head.



She can't see the Avatar, the knight, the demonlover in the back seat, and so she is at ease. As at ease as she is going to get. Her tone is also not bitter, but is matter-of-fact: choice is something people champion, free will is something others love to talk about, but how much of it is there, really? Following on that train of thought, Ashley adds, quietly, "We can't control everything, even as Willworkers, and our choices are always going to be limited or taken away by those things we can't control. We -can- control our responses and make the best of a bad situation. And given that Henri was running off, probably going to get herself killed, I thought it was better to take some kind of action than to be passive."



[K. R. Jakes]
"This is true," Kage says, agrees, with Ashley's first point. That one mental impulse is little compared with what havoc might be wreaked if Henri finds Dylan and enters wholly into his delusion (becomes, herself, mad as birds, madder). The rest of her points don't get disagreed with. Kage doesn't disagree with any of them, really, but she feels that Ashley is missing something, and she doesn't know how to speak it to her; she never knows how to speak what seems so self-evident to her to others. It isn't having a conscience. It's different than that. "But," she says, finally, "Keeping all of that in mind, and feeling that way, I can see why you'd be surprised that Henri and Gregor reacted as they did at first, but... After that first moment? We all like to have control. We all like to possess it. We're not fond of things we can't control, and you, however briefly, almost made yourself something that ... Oh. I don't even know what I'm saying, 'ley."



[Ashley McGowen]
"But other people -shouldn't- have any control over me," Ashley says, her brows furrowing together. And now there's something of a change, slow and inexorable: because she understands what Kage is telling her, and that was plain in the clear, focused look the Orphan was getting. But this?



Well, it would appear that she hasn't quite figured out how to work the Hermetic philosophy into it yet. Or that she hasn't quite figured out that how the Tytalans do things, the Hermetic way of life, is so different from how the rest of the Awakened populace thinks. "I...feel like this is something other Hermetics would understand. But I'm trying to get along with the rest of you, and it's...it's pretty hard. Like a lot harder than I thought it would be."



[K. R. Jakes]
But other people shouldn't, Ashley says, and Kage's eyebrows take on a distinctly sardonic lilt. Her mouth is sardonic, too, for a second, and she doesn't bother giving Ashley a sidelong glance. They get caught at the same damned red they were caught at getting to the white fence house.



"Other Hermetics would -- " the Orphan begins to say, and then stops. Kage glances once again at Ashley, and this time, after a grave (passion) second, she smiles. A real smile; it is lovely, although she is plain, and transmutes her into something else. "Do Justine and Bran get along with non-Order of Hermes magi?"



[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley sighs, hair and the one half of her face awash in the red from the street light, dropping her jaw into her hands. She misses the sardonic look; it's on her left and at the moment she is not bothering to look at Kage.



Then the other woman mentions Bran and Justine and Ashley does look at her then, searching her expression, wondering at the meaning of that smile. Trying to figure out why she's asking. "...Yes, I think, though I don't know if they really deal with them all that much," Ashley says. "Bran sort of sees it as necessary to ally with them in order to get things done in the city and...well, you met Bran, you know. And Justine has had a lot of friends who weren't Hermetics. She dated an Ecstatic for a couple of years."



[K. R. Jakes]
"You said that you don't care," Kage says, and who knows why she chooses to echo what Ashley said to Gregor. "Is that true?"



[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley eases her head forward into her hands, linking them together over the back of her skull, lacing them through her dark hair. The sort of position one might take if they were protecting the back of the head from a tornado or the like, and then she eases her hands forward as though to squeeze out tension or unpleasant thoughts.



They're at the next light before she answers. "...I don't know," she says quietly. "I keep...I keep trying to push myself and strengthen myself and...I guess sometimes it feels like it's for nothing. I'm probably just tired," she says, raising herself back up on her elbows, leaning forward into the seat belt.



There's more to this - it's evident in all the things Ashley doesn't say, and in all the things that Kage can probably put together. But Ashley rises back up, leaning back into the seat and glancing out the window again. "...Look, I don't want to whine at you. Let's just drop it."



[K. R. Jakes]
"I'm not going to push you," she says, a pause. "Look. Empress Lotus Panda is still open -- want to run in and grab something quick? I can wait in the car, if you'd prefer." The window of opportunity for some cheap Asian-American cuisine is closing, closing fast. Kage finishes her first thought this way: "I think you could be happier. And if you were happier, maybe you wouldn't ... I just don't want you to lose who you are," Kage says, point blank [blam!]. "Or your mind."



[Ashley McGowen]
"Yeah, let's get something," Ashley says, with a glance out the window toward the restaurant. It isn't every day one finds a friend who shares a penchant for Asian food, even if it's cheap. "You can come in with me."



It seems that she might leave it at that, but it's clear that she's worrying at what Kage said like Zane with a chunk of rawhide, until she's punched holes in every aspect of the statement, until it's turned to soggy mush in her mind. "See, sometimes I'm afraid of that," Ashley says. "And then sometimes I think that in order to become something greater you have to lose yourself on the way. And it's going to hurt."



And then, another pause before Kage finds a parking spot before she says, "I used to be a prodigy. Like I could sight read Bach when I was eleven. I don't think you have a choice but to lose who you are and adapt into something else, most of the time. It just happens if you want to get by." She looks sidelong at Kage, and this is a wondering, measuring look. Do you know what I'm talking about? Is this something you can understand?



[K. R. Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[doo-de-doo]



[K. R. Jakes]
Kage doesn't reply to what Ashley just said. Ashley's sidelong glance catches Kage in profile, and Kage's profile is delicate (sharp) and young. They're the same age, and they aren't very old at all. They may have schoolmates who are just beginning to have children and get married and rise in their chosen professions. They're just before the prime of life, these two. Kage's profile is young, and delicate, and she is looking straight ahead when Ashley looks at her. There may be a shadow; there may be something yearning (guarded [lost]) there for a second. In fact, may is just another word for 'is.'



Then, ah hah! Parking spot taken! Maybe it is fate. She puts her truck into park, glances at Ashley before she jumps out of the truck and catches herself on the door. No lost balance, not now. The smell of cigarette smoke -- pungent, sour, sweet -- wafts out from her coat. Crackles, on the back of the senses.



Kage doesn't poke at some of the information Ashley has just given her. Two and two make four. Sight read Bach plus Amusia make bad.



"After you," she says, once Ashley has done likewise.



[Ashley McGowen]
It's easy to forget sometimes that they're both young, despite the fact that Kage's features are delicate, breakable, and Ashley's are round and sometimes verge on an odd sort of softness. Perhaps it's the power and strength that they both command that does it, perhaps it's their world weariness or their confidence. Perhaps it's that Ashley, at least, has no link to what most people in their twenties are doing: she is not worried overmuch about advancing her career or getting married or her biological clock or trying to cram in as much fun as she can before the dreaded third decade of life.



So for those minutes they're silent, as Kage's truck aligns itself between the two white stripes on the pavement and Ashley pops the door, seizes hold of the handle above it and lowers herself. Ashley doesn't press Kage for an answer; she understands the silence, respects that in opening up to Kage she has given the woman things to think about, may have caused her to reflect on herself. And it's odd, really: this is the first time someone has encouraged her to open up and so it's the first time that she has, and they don't really even trust each other. They don't have a full measure of each other yet, the way she has of Wharil and even of Gregor. But there it is.



Ashley shores herself up against the cold and hurries for the door of the restaurant, holding the door open for Kage once she's arrived there. And places her order (something spicy, with chicken and a lot of vegetables) and lets the time tick by.



Once or twice, she glances at Kage and seems as though she might say something, but ultimately she chooses to stay quiet.