having second thoughts

Nathan Spriggs] A cold night, the perfect weather for the perfect disaster, and that was exactly what these past few days had been. A lonely man walked down the street, and for what seemed like the first time in ages, he actually managed to balance himself as he did. The cold chilled him down to his bones, but he didn't seem to care, he didn't care about very much now, this grace period of sobriety being the result of his last specks of common sense rather than will. If he kept up his binge, he'd end up in the hospital again, so he'd give it a few hours, he could handle the suffering that long at least.

The man, called Nathan, searched for a place to get a bite to eat, he'd been vomiting so much lately that it felt like he hardly ate at all, even though it'd been only two and a half days, he was already starting to look weary and haggard. Time was catching up to him, even though he was only 29.

[K. R. Jakes] K. R. Jakes had no idea that Nathan Spriggs was another both eyes awake type. K. R. Jakes had no idea that he was there when the nameless 'crow was gunned down in the street and she has no idea that he has spent the greater part of the weekend in a drunken haze because of it. He has been mentioned to her; Ashley was with him when Kage called her. As far as associations go, this is the loosest possible heresay to have, and it means that although she glances at the haggard twentysomething thirtysomething who looks as if he's been scraped empty, she does not do so with any sort of recognition.

Why does she look at him? Because, as happenstance has it, they very nearly run into each other. Kage steps out of an alley, and yes, the alley is seedy, is narrow, but it also leads to a parking lot, which is why she's stepping out of it: in order to get to the front door of a narrow little pub called Fountain of Youth, some grafitti on the side, an iron apple embedded in the cement. "Pardon me," she says, or murmurs, and the door is just a couple of steps beyond him. When she opens it, the smell of chili cheese fries wafts out, accompanied by the most delectable sharp of whiskey and batter and meat.

[and we're going with awareness 'cos WHY NOT.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Nathan Spriggs] [Bitch nearly hit me! Perc + Aware]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[Nathan Spriggs] [Botch, damn you!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 6, 7, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] First of all. That woman? Yeah. That woman is a mage. He gets that pretty clearly. Her resonance feels like the verb of beloved, feels like it burns with amorous intent; like the first blushing [heat] of spring. And her resonance feels like the slow draining away of vitality, like the withering-away-of, the leeching-into-something-else. These two 'tastes' to the woman's magick are perfectly balanced -- one for one. What's more, she's very, very recently been Working, and the remnant of those Workings are obvious, too: something with spirit, correspondence, entropy and prime. Finding someone. Sensing something. Following a map, sixth sense, intuition, singing the world right. And there. That's far more than she gets from him.
to†Nathan Spriggs

[Nathan Spriggs] The beautiful smell of whiskey wafted by, Nathan's resolve, his willpower, being tested as it did. The smell of delicious food was merely an afterthought, that cruel little extra nudge that made him lose the little will he had left to repel the call of alcohol. He did not notice, nor did he care, about the woman he had just passed by. That is until he feels something, he turn look at her and -- cut into your own one.

[K. R. Jakes] His presence touches her intuition (another one [new penny]) and it causes her to pause (briefly) on the threshold of the Fountain of Youth. All Kage gets from that brief study of Nathan is -- well, it's not very much at all; a word, a aren't-you-somebody, a I-think-you-are. Kage has never been a joiner, has never sought other awakened people out. Even when she needed to. Even when she had trouble [I can handle it (I don't want you)], so she pauses, and glances over her shoulder, eyebrows drawing together into -- well, it's almost a frown. It's unsubtle, too, and then: eek. He's looking at her now, not just staring glaze-eyed at the Fountain's dusky interior. "Can I help you," she says, and then, "Are you looking for something?"

[Nathan Spriggs] "Deadly quantities of alcohol," he spoke, his voice lacked its usual luster from before it all this happened, before his life fell apart, but it wasn't the cold, dead voice from when he'd spoken to Emily, nor the desperate one from when he'd spoken to Ashley. "What about you?"

He scans her, studying her facial expressions and her appearance, taking in her Resonance and everything he'd just felt. Great, another one of our lot. Guess what you least want is always what happens. "Fuckin' Murphy," he spoke, to no one but himself, looked around for a glimpse inside the pub, to see how full it was, how long he'd have to wait for a drink.

[K. R. Jakes] "I'll buy you a drink," she says, after a second. The expression in her eyes is inscrutable. This is not to say she is expressionless or blank. Neither of these things is true. What Kage is, is poised; what Kage is, is carelessly, effortlessly [grace] composed. "And I'll buy myself two, and we'll see who finishes first. C'mon in," and just like that, Kage steps into the Fountain of Youth, and the door sticks, doesn't shut immediately, but it'll shut in a second or three. Outside is winter, and all the doors are barred against that unrelenting cold.

From what Nathan Spriggs can see of the interior: the Fountain of Youth is dilapidated as all Hell, has seen better days, is still a bit of a wreck from Superbowl Sunday, and only has about five other people inside. It is not a destination spot, and there's a woman with orange hair, tired skin, back behind the bar, and she has a tattoo of a snake around her neck, constricting (if it were real [but it's not]).

[Nathan Spriggs] He took a step inside, examining and studying his surroundings, he was back to his usual self in that he didn't drop his guard even for a moment. He makes sure the door's closed behind him before following Kage, he stared at her from behind, carefully scrutinizing her appearance for any sign of weaponry under the clothing. The dilapidated bar was just to his liking, the less people around, the better, they could speak freely and he could drink as much he wanted. However, Nathan wasn't naive, nor was he stupid, he didn't trust another Awakened explicitly just because they'd met by coincidence. He'd had his moments due to being off, like with Emily, but no more.

His mind was crystal clear right now, he was almost happy, worry and suspicion at this woman overtaking his memory and thoughts of Dylan's death. Fear, worry, suspicion, mistrust, all those emotions were helping him forget about Dylan for a while as he followed her, hands both in the coat's pocket as he gripped his handgun carefully, silently removing the safety just in case.

[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Nathan Spriggs] [Er, that was per + alert to see if you had weapons]

[K. R. Jakes] He would accept or he wouldn't. Kage isn't a regular, but she's been here before, and she goes straight up to the bar, and does what she said she'd do. She buys herself two drinks, whiskey, and she buys Nathan a shot of the same, unless he speaks up to argue. A sidelong glance, and her eyes are an indescribable color in the dim interior gloaming of the bar, but they are steady, at least. Instead of cash, the bartender gets a credit card, and it runs through without a hitch.

Nathan studied Kage closely, and he now knows that she has a book in the pocket of her coat, which is blue-as-London-smog, gray-as-the-underbelly-of-a-storm, but there's no telltale signs of a gun or a knife or anything else likely to do harm about her person. He knows this. Doesn't need it, though, does she? Not if she's like Ashley. (How many people are like Ashley.)

[ooc: and the same roll, sir!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 6, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan followed her, but when she went to the bar to get some shots, he went to find a booth, a booth with a vantage point. Covered enough to not be seen from the entrance but open enough so he could scan his surroundings and the bar for anything that was... off. It was easy to notice something was off in his appearance, his coat was deep enough that the fake (or rather the ID on it) FBI badge in his left pocket was unnoticeable, but it was obvious there was something awkward in the right one, especially since his own right hand was gripping whatever it was and creating a strange angle. Other than that, the most noticeable thing was a bottle of vodka stuck in one of the inside pockets, uncomfortable as it was, though it was hidden so she wouldn't know it was actually empty.

"Thanks for the shot, what're we having?" Nathan's voice sounded mildly grateful, but he was actually dreading the shot at the moment, strange as it was. His momentary resistance to the thoughts that had been plaguing him would fall apart if he started drinking now. He'd go straight back to his binge and finish every bottle of alcohol he could find in the damn pub.

[K. R. Jakes] He's holding a gun in his coat pocket. There are moments when clarity is so clear that it almost sets the teeth on edge: this is one of those moments. The badge passes by unnoticed because what the hell is there about a badge to draw her attention so clearly? The weapon, though: that. Ah, that. And the bottle of -- well, vodkashaped bottle. Bottle of some intense alcohol, which may or may not be full.

"Well, I'm having second thoughts," she says, and pitches her voice clear but quiet. A touch wry. "And two shots of Jameson's. Which I hope you'll drink with me. And I propose we toast to 'redheads, who will not be shot this evening.' Do you want something else?"

[Nathan Spriggs]
What might seem like a momentary smile formed on his lips and then disappeared just as quickly as it came, the grip on the gun was lightened and he pointed it down a bit, though never letting it go. His free hand took the shot and he downed it almost instantly, not even waiting to toast. "To not watching someone get a hole blown into their chest with a shotgun," he growled those words, not meaning to sound aggressive towards her but the memory still hurt, and angered him, he couldn't but get pissed when he remembered.

"And to not the homeless-lookin' guy not being blown to bits!" A bit cheerier, but still reminiscent of Droopy from the old cartoon. Try as he might, he couldn't find something worth smiling at now, not anymore.

[K. R. Jakes]
That was one shot. And that is the only shot Kage intends to buy for Nathan Spriggs, who may be awakened (count against), but who also looks unstable and is still has a hand in his coat pocket. Her elbow is on the bar's surface, and she cups her chin in the palm of her hand, her gaze pensive as she watches Nathan [start to destroy himself (again)] growl. "You sound sad," she says, finally. "Sure. I'll drink to that." A beat. And then: "What's up? You watched someone die recently and care too much?"

[Nathan Spriggs]
The same old thirst, that shot had sent a chain reaction, he let go of the gun, didn't matter anymore. His only target was getting to the bar and getting more to drink. His hand dug up 20 dollar bills from his coat pockets, he was an interestingly rich hobo, he always kept some cash on hand to buy drinks when he was sober enough to be sold any. But that twinge of self-control paused him for a second, just enough to respond to Kage before setting off for the bar counter.

"Guy by the name of Dylan. I figure you know about him if you know anyone in this city." He hadn't known him, but then again, he was new, it seemed even Emily, a recently Awakened knew who the hell the guy was. But he hadn't, he hadn't known anything except that he was a harmless loon when they first met, their last meeting as well as he died that day.

[Ashley McGowen]
Both have seen him before, the argyle sweatervest boy with thick glasses (though today he is not in a sweatervest but simply a sweater with a white buttondown rising out of the top and spilling out of the bottom - though the glasses remain as he pulls off his peacoat and shakes the snow off of it). The friendly one that smiles at every person that comes into the apartment and will probably end up, one day, tied up with the arms of his own shirt, beat up and stuffed into the janitor's closet.

It would be easy to overlook him, because while they've seen him a few times before, it's only been in passing and they don't have a name for him. That, and he's drunk. Wide-eyed, at the point of thinking everything anyone tells him is hilarious and with bright red cheeks. Except that behind him are two more figures - another man in his mid-twenties similarly dressed, and a certain small Hermetic both of them are starting to know well.

She's smiling in a way that indicates tipsiness, though she's nowhere near as far gone as the two men she's with, as they step in and beeline toward the bar. They're at ease with each other, or at least, they are as at ease as Sleepers can get with Ashley: sweatervest boy claps her on the shoulder once, tells her something and laughs, flinching away seconds later when she glances at him.

[K. R. Jakes]
"I never knew Dylan," she says, and from her perspective, this is true. The nameless 'crow wasn't Dylan Willis. What Nathan saw get shot in the Magnificent Mile was something Other, something sadder, someone more terrifying, someone who needed a different kind of help, something wrong. She doesn't elaborate.

For a second, she glances down at her hand, though, studies the shape of her fingers, and Nathan eases himself out of the booth he'd found for this discussion-that-isn't, secluded and hidden from sight but not hiding seeing, and her gaze flicks up when he pushes out. She calls after him: "Order some chili cheese fries, or be called a fool for the rest of your life."

And then Kage espies a smiling Ashley, and she waits a beat to see what she's doing before she considers calling her over. Waits, to see if Ashley and Nathan have some sort of interaction that she should know about, given what she knows about the nameless 'crow's death. Kage, for all her recklessness, is surprisingly cautious sometimes.

[Nathan Spriggs]
Kage's words actually managed to make it to Nathan in his momentary madness, he reached the bar and instead of ordering a shot, he talked the bartender into selling him the whole bottle of rum, ordering the chili fries for Kage after doing so. Were he in his normal state and looking at this all subjectively from the outside, he would probably have to congratulate himself for still managing to be a convincing liar even in his alcohol-crazed and depressed state. He wasn't drunk but he wasn't quite-normal either, but lying was so normal to him, so embedded into his standard psyche that it still came naturally when he did it. It was scary how much so, even.

And an order of fries later, Nathan returned to the table, bottle in hand and not a glance towards Ashley, maybe he was ignoring her now, or maybe he'd genuinely missed seeing her in the bar. In either case, whatever his current opinion of her was would soon be put to the test as Kage called her over.

[Ashley McGowen]
The trio stands up at the bar, and at this point they've ordered drinks. Ashley has a glass of something amber in a tumbler; the two young men appear to have ordered beer - dark and rather heavy. "I think that's a terrible idea," Ashley tells sweatervest boy, apparently in reply to whatever he said to her before.

He waves her off and grins, and the three continue talking. Their body language is relaxed, without tension between any of the three of them. It appears to be exactly what it is - three people having an evening out, though the third young man, the one they haven't seen before, is beginning to droop against the bar. Smearing his palm against the side of his face in an effort to keep his head up.

[K. R. Jakes]
"Thank you," she says, when Nathan returns with a bottle and an order of chili cheese fries. And also, "So what are you going to do with yourself now?" Kage takes a chili cheese fry, pushes the rest of the plate over toward him and picks up the bottle to regard the label and the color it turns when she holds it to the light.

She's still holding the bottle, unless Nathan makes an attempt to snatch it back instead of devoting himself to the slaver-inducing plate of grease and cheese and potatoes and meat and spice that is set before him, and if he does, well, that's another story. The point is: she's probably still holding the bottle casually out of reach when she slides half-out of the booth and whistles [the: hey, pret-ty la-dy whistle} and calls,

"Hey, Ashley."

[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan nodded slightly as she pushed the plate towards him, observing her check the bottle out, glaring slightly as she did. He controlled his instincts and desire to rip it out of her hands though, one false move and it would be sent hurling towards the ground and he'd lose the precious liquid inside. Sure, he could probably lick it from the floor, but the glass would get in the way. His attention too focused on the bottle to respond when she called for Ashley or offered him the fries, he had to have it back. Plans were being made, ways to subtly manipulate her into giving it back or at least setting it on the table.

In a way, it was almost like he was back to his usual self, the person he'd been before he met any of the Awakened in Chicago, when he was just a greedy cold-hearted manipulative bastard, and he enjoyed every moment of it. In some ways, if he could get in touch with that old self again, with the him that didn't give a flying fuck about anyone else but himself, maybe he could over this, stop feeling empathy for the poor sucker that was Dylan.

[Nathan Spriggs]
((Er, nodded curtly* I'm doing too much stuff at once, now back to my Werewolf background))

[Ashley McGowen]
Neither of the boys appear to respond when Kage whistles and calls Ashley's name (who is Ashley?) but Ashley herself does, and she has to make nearly a full circle before she can see Kage and Nathan over at their table. Once upon a time she'd questioned how easy it was to keep running into the same people throughout the city, but that was last summer, before she'd gotten used to the way this city has of throwing Willworkers together.

She blinks in their general direction for a few seconds before turning back to the two young men and saying something to them. Sweatervest boy, after a moment of confusion ("What did she call you?") assures her that they were going to head home soon anyway, and throws an arm around her shoulders, curling it so he can spread his palm across the top of her head and ruffle her hair, though without any heat. Friendly, intimate sort of guy, he is. Ashley tolerates it for about three seconds before wiggling out of his grasp.

"I'll see you guys later," she says to the two men, and there's an exchange of waves and smiles ranging from tipsy to falling-down drunk, and she slides into the booth next to Kage, half-drained glass in hand. "If you're going to catcall me over, you owe me another one of these when I'm done."





[K. R. Jakes] Really, she shouldn't bait the drunk and homeless mage with the gun in his pocket and a certain inhibition (as far as she knows). Really, as soon as he looked at her, she should've smiled (courteous [polite]), and decided on another bar. But that's not the way this went down, and that's not the way this is going.

Kage twirls the bottle around, then rests it on her knee, and if she isn't oblivious to Nathan's not-so-latent desire for the bottle of spirits, well, she certainly looks it; and maybe she is. He's smooth and suave enough to pull off chicanery when he's feeling like himself.

"Do you like rum?" she asks Ashley, with a glance for Nathan. "This charming ace-of-Jack just brought a bottle to share." Sure he did. "I don't know how well it goes with chili cheese fries, but chili cheese fries are magical." She doesn't introduce them. Then: she hasn't really introduced herself, or asked Nathan what his name is.

[Nathan Spriggs] He continued to look at Kage, the bitter, more-than-slightly pissed off glare sliding off his face, maybe he's feeling like his old self a bit more, maybe he just doesn't give a fuck. All his mind registered right now was the alcohol was getting farther away and a nasty little hangover he'd been holding at bay for the past few days by drowning it with even more alcohol was coming. That and this woman, she might actually be able to compete with Nathan at being an ass on one of his good days. Probably not with the old him, but with the person he'd tried to be in Chicago? Certainly.

"Why don't we take a shot in celebration of it?" He didn't his best to hide the desire behind his voice, and to his own surprise, actually succeeded decently. His voice still sounded dry and mirthless but at least he didn't sound like a junkie desperate for the next shot. To further his act, he took a bite of the chili fries, which were quite good to his own surprise, he was actually impressed at her selection somewhere deep, deep, down.

[Ashley McGowen] Kage is tossing a bottle around, which draws Ashley's eyes rather quickly. Specifically the label, as she raises her glass to her mouth and eyes it and tries to decide whether she wants to drink it. An alcohol snob, this one. She's been out of her drink-to-get-drunk days for a few years now.

"Not normally," she tells Kage, "but I'm getting to the point where the taste doesn't make much of a difference."

The ice clinks at the bottom of the glass as the Hermetic lowers it again, setting it down on the pitted table as she gives Nathan a nod that verges on amiable. "I wouldn't have expected to run into you two together out here. What are you doing?" She's relaxed this evening, a feat which only moderate quantities of alcohol seems to be able to accomplish.

[K. R. Jakes] Kage raises an eyebrow at Ashley, a question (unsaid [not unasked]), and she reaches over to steal (thief) another of the chili cheese fries. The cheese stretches, melting toward the table even as the fry is pulled away, and steam escapes: upward, like a spirit [or an angel (of good junk food)]. "Sure," she agrees, amiable (reserved) to Nathan's suggestion. Celebrate the fries with some rum. She sets the bottle down on the table. She's not opening it. "But if you're getting to the point where taste doesn't matter, I suggest not going too far past that point. Why would you?"

And, answer the question: "This is just one of those trip-over-yous. We were discussing why," and here, she frowns at Nathan for a second, raising both of her eyebrows at him in a: do you want to take this one [do you remember]. She watches him more than she watches Ashley; perhaps because he's an unknown quantity.

[Solomon Quicksilver] There was a commotion. There was always some commotion. Always a problem getting into bars. But this was Bronzeville. The commotion was short lived. What did the doorman care? ID was in order. On someone else's head.

The brief commotion and jeers ended as a white skinned kid, or so teenager more aptly, walked into the bar. Maybe he was 18. Maybe he might possibly could have been older. Doubtful though. He had on regular shoes right now, at least. Boots for the shitty weather going on outside. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a heavy flannel shirt. His face was young, smooth as porcelain, that was what made him look so young. That and the fact that he was only 5'8". But the look in his eyes was of someone much older. Much more aware.

He wandered into the dingy bar and sort of ambled. The way you do when you don't have any particular place to go, or to be. Just looking for some distraction. Some place elsewhere. He'd fit in great at a college bar, but here it was a little odd. Mapped out on a chart, his footsteps were like a set of raggedy plot points headed vaguely towards the bar.

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan collected himself momentarily, the appearance of Ashley, an unexpected factor who knew just how bad his drinking habit had gotten, was not favorable. Especially with her current treatment of him, any trust between the two, any friendly discussions they might have had, all that was gone. He'd ruined it with all in a single night, now all that was left was awkward silence and pretending to be amiable, acting like it wasn't all in the gutter now.

"Why we keep running into others like us, and why the Awakened community doesn't already know each other. That and why we weren't warned the specifics of the Marauder threat," he spoke with a curt smile, it was fake but the tension was just enough that it wouldn't seem that way, he still lacked his usual luster, his usual charm, but he was slowly getting there again, a perfect lie, this was the first time since the scene when the thought on his mind when sober wasn't about it. But there was also an accusation there, they had purposely kept information from him, from them.

[K. R. Jakes] [am I very maaad?]
to†Ashley McGowen

[Ashley McGowen] "Because you didn't ask," Ashley tells Nathan with a pointed smile, "and it's not my responsibility to type up a Marauder fact sheet and hand it out to every new person I meet on the street. Giving you my damned phone number is enough," she says, draining the rest of whatever is in the tumbler glass. "And I didn't -know- what was going to happen Friday night. If I'd had my way, that's not how it would have gone down."

For all that, she doesn't seem to be all that awkward around Nathan. Not even angry with him; her friendly behavior (though by now it has dropped away) toward him touched the eyes, did't really have the veneer of someone who is just pretending. She doesn't have the patience for that.

"Anyway. Can we not talk about this right now? I was actually, you know, having fun before you guys called me over."

[K. R. Jakes] "I called you over here, Ashley, and I'm sorry." A beat. She really is. She is looking at Nathan, not at Ashley, and her glance isn't quite inscrutable: she looks -- well, what's the phrase? Troubled waters? Reflective? "You might want to step away again. Take the chili cheese fries, for they are awesome, and they'll restore good spirits." Another beat. "I want to say something to you," and you, in question, is Nathan.

[Nathan Spriggs] Down on his luck, sure, way out of his usual state of mind, definitely, blind, deaf and dumb? Hell no. Nathan recognized he'd stepped on a, or multiple, landmine(s). Ashley definitely seemed less than happy, even in the slightly drunk state she was and Kage seemed about ready to blow up. Oh, wonderful. No alcohol running through his veins, massive hangover in progress, and now one definitely pissed woman he'd just met and one maybe, maybe not, but who'd definitely not been as vicious as he'd treated her, or at least he thought so. For the first time in days, he actually pushed away the shot glass and refused a drink. It was like ripping a tiny piece of his soul out, but it had to be done. This would end badly anyway, they'd leave and he'd be free to drink himself silly in peace.

"Right, but first things first, no alcohol for me, I'll have a glass of water," his voice was resigned, maybe even apologetic, he looked Kage in the eyes, trying to figure out which of his recent fuck-ups had been the one to set her off. Or had they all been, collectively? And for a moment, his mind actually went 'I'm back! This is me!' but it was over as soon as it started.

[Ashley McGowen] "Thanks, but they hurt my stomach," Ashley says, after a quick glance in the direction of the fries. She looks toward the bar, searching. "...Fuck, looks like Justin and Kyle left. Oh well," and the Hermetic swings out of the booth. Aware that Kage had something to say, unsure of what that something is (and under normal circumstances she might be able to figure that out, but there's a fog lying over her thoughts right now.)

And, on her way up to get something else (that should leave them time to talk about whatever needs to be talked about) she spots Solomon. And squints. That kid is too young to be out for a night with peers, so what is he doing here?

From her vantage point at the bar, Ash gives him a wave. Of course, she's barely over five feet tall, so it may go unnoticed. And she leans an elbow on it, glancing once or twice in the direction of Kage's table, once or twice toward the other Hermetic, and mostly watches attentively as her glass is refilled.

[Solomon Quicksilver] He seems aimless. There's no particular place for him to be right now. No particular thing for him to be doing right now. But hell, he just got a score from a nice set of pawned items at the dealer. He wonders what sorts of things he could be making, to pawn off for money. But he figures selling to other mages would be more profitable, if only he knew enough mages to make a good customer base.

The wave goes up. His eyes flick over the woman. An instant later recognition comes on and he drifts her way. Sidling up alongside her and trying to ignore the look of surprise on the bartender's face, which is followed by a scowl.

"Hey Ashley." A little grin. "What's the haps?"

[K. R. Jakes] Ashley leaves the booth and Kage waits a second [sad (regretful) cool]. This is important to note: Kage's voice doesn't rise, although it does intensify, and she doesn't look away from Nathan's eyes. Her expression is serious [buried passion], and if there's a moment of acknowledgment, water instead of rum, then there's a moment of acknowledgment. It doesn't change what she has to say.

"First of all. I would never use that word 'we.' It is not a word that applies to you and me. Second of all. I would never sink to my knees and roll in the gutter and cry because someone else didn't warn me about a threat. I wouldn't expect it. I don't expect it. Would it be nice? Yeah; a lot of things would be nice.

"But who are you? So what if you weren't around? What kind of excuse is that? What've you done to get your people in order? Really. Who are you? Beyond a man who kind've smells like maybe he needs to reaquaint himself with the fabulous newfangled invention that is the shower. Why would you even dream of getting on that woman's case because you didn't know the specifics of a threat?

"And I can see right now, as clear as that empty glass over there, that what you know about it -- an armless woman could probably count on her fingers. And it sucks that you saw that man you're calling Dylan get shot, but guess what? You're not the only asshole with eyes in his head."

[Ashley McGowen] "Drowning my sorrows," Ashley tells Solomon, in that same easy and relaxed manner she'd had when she arranged to meet him his first night in town. She'd been drinking then, too. With their limited interactions he might actually be fooled into thinking that it's her usual manner.

"My neighbor got a big grant and he just started grad school here last month. Doesn't know a lot of people yet, so I was out here with him and a friend from class. They've taken off though." It would, perhaps, come as a surprise to most people - but she keeps Sleeper friends. She just doesn't relate to them particularly well (how could she, who relies so heavily on magic?)

She accepts the glass back, full once again of amber liquor and ice, and takes a sip from it. "How are you settling in?"

[Solomon Quicksilver] He grins faintly. A little crooked smirk. Bellying up to the bar, so to speak. Glancing up and down it at what people are drinking. His eyes flutter closed for a minute, open again. He smiles faintly. Fresh, fresh and new. Shiny. But rimmed with dirt.

His eyes flick over to her. "Exploring. And settling in.....okay I guess. I need about a dozen extra arms to clean the place. But I'm looking into a method of cleaning that should lift the burden and possibly amuse me for a while." He bites the inside of the corner of his mouth and ponders the liquors rack. "Anything good I should try?"

[Ashley McGowen] Solomon is twelve years younger than she is. A year younger than her apprentice, who Ashley would never be having this discussion with - while Enid is Awakened, Solomon is far closer to being an adult within the Awakened community, a Disciple and an Adept in the Order of Hermes.

There's a curious look when he mentions his cleaning, though she of course assumes that it's magically related. And thus does not ask him while they are right here in front of the bartender.

So she turns, leaning her elbows on the bar and standing on tiptoe so she can see over it a little more easily (the top of it hits the middle of her chest.) "Try the 151," she suggests. Nonchalant.

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan didn't feel ashamed, he didn't feel sorry, in fact, if he wasn't controlling himself right now, he'd scoff at her. His mind was clear, clearer than it had been in a while, clearer than it had been before Dylan's death even, maybe. What the hell did she think she actually knew about why he was doing what he was doing. A look of determination, fury maybe mixed somewhere, was how his eyes looked like now, not the pathetic man she'd seen before, it was like someone else completely different. But just like hers, his voice didn't rise, it didn't change, it was calm, an underlying definitiveness to it.

"We. Merriam-Webster describes it as follows. 1 : I and the rest of a group that includes me : you and I : you and I and another or others : I and another or others not including you óused as pronoun of the first person plural ó compare i, our, ours, us
2 : 1i óused by sovereigns óused by writers to keep an impersonal character," he paused, letting it soak in, his memory was great for things like these, he remembered the dictionary definition, word for word, everything about it.

"What that means, is you and I, I and the group that includes me, are all Awakened, we are all here, without an option. Without a choice, in the cold, left to find ourselves and little ditch to live in while we're hunted down. It means you grow up, the actions of every other Awakened around you affect you, even as much as you don't want them to or separate yourself from them. It means every action you take in your life, as isolated as you make yourself, affects those around you anyway," another breath, short enough to not let her move, he'd make sure she sat through it all.

"It means that if a crazy Marauder is running around, you give the details on what happened to him, who he was, anything pertinent to keep other people involved alive. It's not the threat I'm worried about, or crying about as you put it. I expected some warning, sure, I didn't expect the people I'm running with to be a bunch of psychopaths capable of shooting a harmless man in the middle of a crowded street, with a shotgun. When others, non-insane, non-threat fellow members of theirs are standing next to him, in perfect position to get hit by the goddamn spray."

"Says a lot about the company we've ended up with whether we like it or not. As for who am I? I'm the guy who bought property to create a place where the magi could meet, I'm the guy who actually offered to open up his library to the other magi in the city, a nice one at that! But oh no, I'm sure you haven't heard that, probably because you don't try to, I bet. With your attitude on us, we!"

[Solomon Quicksilver] [Don't be a dumbass about liquor, Solomon]

[Solomon Quicksilver] "Hmm..." He glances across the bottles. Some have interesting tropical designs. Some have muted colors and simple austere presences upon the bar. Some scream and shout, some simply wait for you to choose them, confident that you will because they're that well known.

He glances over them, finds the 151, and find it not to be too shouty. So he leans across to the bartender and asks for a shot of "that 151 stuff." The bartender eyes him incredulously. "You sure kid?" To which Solomon becomes irritated and states quite clearly, "Yes, I want that." And nods firmly. Mind made up.

He's served his shot. He takes hold of it in his hand. Tosses it back promptly as he's doubtlessly seen in movies.

And goes into a coughing fit.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley hadn't really expected him to actually take the shot, but watches, amused, as the bartender fills up the shotglass and Solomon tosses it back. The boy is blissfully unaware that in five seconds he'll be dumping alcohol down his throat that is potent enough to burn phlegm away.

He starts coughing and she starts laughing.

It's not particularly mean-spirited, less so when she reaches over to grab his upper arm and help him straighten up. "I didn't expect you to actually do it," she tells him, once he's finally rid his throat of the burning sensation (which has likely, by now, moved down into his chest and stomach.)

[Solomon Quicksilver] In between coughing and gagging sounds, he glares up at Ashley. A hurt young boy sort of glare. An innocent sort of 'why would you do that' kind of glare. In between it, he chokes out, "Not cool man." Coughing more. "Not cool."

When he can finally stand upright he's still wincing and wipes some wetness from his suddenly watering eyes. Shaking his head. "Jesus, my mouth is on fire. I need something to wash that away with." He holds his stomach. Swallows hard. When he lets out a breath though his nose, he winces and makes a face again. "Fuck, no wonder they call it fire-water."

[K. R. Jakes] He quotes dictionary definitions at her, and she raises her eyebrows at him, but she doesn't seem (yet) inclined to interrupt. No: Kage listens to him reply, listens to every word he says, and if her jaw sets (imperious), and she takes a deep breath, if her shoulders tense, well, what's that? Otherwise, she's still composed -- still careful.

This isn't to say that once or twice she didn't look almost (bemused [amused]) not angry. Because once or twice, three times even, she did, and by the time he ends on we! Kage slides out of the booth. The woman sets both of her hands down on the table, and she is still looking at Nathan.

"I'm sorry, but if I hadn't heard that, maybe someone should have told me. Or, aw, I guess I was just left out in the cold to find myself in a little ditch when I needed some information. That's a gracious offer you supposedly made, stranger, but you still don't know what the hell you're talking about. And there's still not a reason in the world for you to devil yourself up at her."

Subdued: "Have a great evening." And she straightens, and she's going to leave -- stop off at Ashley, before she leaves, of course, but she's going to leave. That much is clear.

[Ashley McGowen] "Sorry," Ashley tells him when she sees the hurt look on his face. And it's not a particularly heartfelt sorry, but it's present, and it isn't dismissive. Instead of drawing out the apology, though, she tells him, "Ask for one of those," and gestures toward vodka coolers that are visible through the glass refrigerator just behind the bar. Alcoholic, barely; they might as well be soda. "They won't be nearly as bad as that one was."

It appears to be as much of an apology as he'll get from her. And then she looks sidelong at the boy, adding, "Have you had a chance to get your house cleaned up much?"

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan didn't bother replying, she'd understood what had happened between himself and Ashley, he had been out of hand sure. But he'd never really blamed her for Dylan's death, not consciously anyway, nor as far as his marvelous memory took him, he'd never done it directly either. That was something completely apart, nothing he could do now, she could have her impressions of him. When the day was over, he'd know he was right. And the anger coursing through his veins, the indignation of it all, it made him think clear enough, take his attention away, he didn't need the alcohol, not right now.

However, his mind was clear, he didn't want to leave this as it was, he wanted to clear the misunderstanding, both with Kage and Ashley, to apologize. It was all very new to him, he'd never really apologized before, never really had to nor saw a reason to. He got up from the booth, almost breaking into a run to catch up with Kage before she left.

"Wait, wait, wait! Hold on," he spoke with a calm determination again, this time with a mix of remorse. He wanted her to stop so that he could at least explain it was Ashley he blamed, if anything, she was the one that deserved the least of the blame, her, Dylan and the man who'd tried speaking to Dylan.

[Solomon Quicksilver] He flicks a glance around at the bar. At the items behind it. At the drinks in the cooler. He gives her a sidelong look. Not sure whether or not she'd be trying to fuck with him again. Odds seem fifty fifty in his mind, and he's willing to take them.

He swallows again. Makes a face and shakes his head. Trying to rapidly encourage his mouth to produce saliva to wash away the nasty taste.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of six dice. Little six sided dice. Two blue, two green, two red. All with different numbers on them. "But I'm gonna win that next drink off you. Cause I'm gonna show you a game, and beat you at it. What do you say?"

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley looks at the die, leaning against the bar at this point not because she needs it to stand up but because it's a solid, steadying presence. If only life had a bar. She folds her hands atop it and looks at the die across them.

"All right. What are we doing to play?"

[K. R. Jakes] Kage R. Jakes isn't really interested in talking to Nathan Spriggs. Kage is usually quite patient, but her patience does not appear to be anywhere in evidence tonight. Nathan didn't bother replying, so Kage turned away, and she's halfway across the [small] floor that separates her from the Hermetic and her young (but legal: right? Right) friend when Nathan bounds after her, calling out a Wait, and a Hold on.

So before he gets across the floor to ruin Ashley's night, before she gets all the way to a Look, do you need a ride somewhere and nods at the boy Ashley's with, she turns around, folding her arms across her chest, "What."

[Solomon Quicksilver] "Okay. So I've got some dice. As you can see." He holds up the red one. It's got a bunch of 4's on it and a 1. They don't seem quite like normal dice. "They've all got different numbers on them, right? So, we're gonna each pick a die and roll against each other ten times. Whoever rolls the highest wins. To be fair, I'll let you choose your die first."

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan let out an almost visible sigh of relief, she'd at least given him half a second to explain, better than just walking away. Not that he'd give up, he'd follow her all the way if he had to, even if she took a cab. He had to say it. Get it off his chest.

"You understood one thing wrong. I don't blame Ashley, I don't devil her, the opposite in fact, she stood there, talking to Dylan and they shot him anyway, didn't give him a chance, even took the risk of hitting her. She's in no way responsible nor will you ever hear me say as much. I don't really blame anyone, it's just... why did it have to come to that? Why did he have to end up like that? Why couldn't they help him instead?" Nathan spoke in a whisper, he was self-conscious enough that he didn't want Ashley to hear any of the things he'd said, his worries, she'd had enough of those the other night. He'd man up and handle his own problems from here, assuming he could keep off the binge long enough. But he'd try this time, really try.

[Ashley McGowen] Drunk or not, the look Ashley gives him is a suspicious one. It's a look that suggests: I have the knowledge of the Ars Conjunctionis to find out where you sleep. Though perhaps it isn't wholly threatening and she isn't wholly suspicious: they are members of the same Tradition, after all, really the only two of their group in the city, and Ashley at least believes that solidarity in such a situation is important.

"That sounds like a really simple game and I suspect I'm being sharked. All right," she says, and then she points to one of his dice after he brings them out. "That one."

[K. R. Jakes]

[Solomon Quicksilver] She chooses the blue one. He ignores whatever that could possibly say about her personality or personal likes. Asking people to choose like that, often revealed something about them. But in this case, it was such an inane situation that it hardly mattered. He grins crookedly at her.

"Then I'll stick with this red one."

And they begin rolling. He counts out the totals as they go. One for her, one for him, one for him, one for him again, one for her, and on until they hit 10. At which point he's the winner by a two or threepoint margin. He grins.

"You owe me a drink. But if you pay for that 151, I'll tell you how I did that." Grinning broadly. Like a child with a new toy.

[K. R. Jakes] "Listen. What you don't seem to understand," she says, replying in kind. Collected, again. Poised [grace (contained)]. Her eyes are dark, but they're always dark, "is that they did try. That you didn't see Dylan die, because he was already dead; that was something else. Bad luck all around," and she reaches over and flicks a lock of his hair out of his face, then pats his head. Pat pat pat! Yeah: she pats his head. And it'd be hard to doubt her sincerity: she really is sorry, but she's calm about it. "And you did devil yourself at her." She flicks at an imaginary chip on Nathan's shoulder.

And then -- well, then Kage actually does turn away from Nathan (they already drank to not shooting redheads tonight, yeah?) and walks over to Ashley and Solomon, a brief smile for Mister Quicksilver, and then, for Ashley, "Hey, I'm heading out. Do you need a ride, or are you good here?"

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley hadn't expected to win, and had been thinking about offering to pay for the shot anyway. So she doesn't appear particularly put out when she loses; he wouldn't have made such an offer if the dice weren't rigged. Magically, in all likelihood.

"Sure," she says, reaching into the pocket of her jeans for enough bills to cover the cost of the shot. She extends them toward him with one hand, lifting her glass and taking a drink with the other. "What did you do? Didn't seem like you were casting anything, so I figure it's not that."

And then before he can answer, the redheaded Orphan is there in front of the two of them. There's a brief question there, in the look she gives the other woman, dismissed as Kage offers her a ride out. "Thanks, but I'm all right," she tells Kage. "This is Solomon, by the way. Same group as me, he just got into town." The look on Kage's face says that she wants to leave, though, so there's the quick addition of, "See you soon."

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan let her go, he had no reason to stop her again. She understood it all how she wanted, so deeply buried in her opinions and her position on everything so solid that she didn't even stop to look around and consider that maybe everything wasn't as she saw it. Instead, he tried to figure out something else, he figured Ashley was having too much fun with Solomon for him to interrupt, so he had to decide what to do from here. His hangover got the best of him so far, but he resisted the call for alcohol, it'd only make it all worse. He was thinking clearly again, he wanted to stay that way, stay clean. But how?

[Solomon Quicksilver] He grins broadly. "No, no, nothing like that..." He sets the die down. Groups them up again loosely into the little pile of red, green, and blue dice.

Then the redhead comes up and Solomon can't hide his interest for a moment. His desire to know 'who's that?!'. She's an attractive woman. Redheads often are. But he pushes that down with an effort of will and smiles politely at her. Professionally. Being a mage was a profession, as was professional courtesy. "Heya." He's thin, casually dressed, a silver pendent around his neck on a black cord and several brassy colored rings, the size of college rings, on his fingers. Except one that's silver. Strange sigils and designs on them.

"Hi. Solomon Blackstone Quicksilver." Extending his hand quickly.

[K. R. Jakes] "Ah. Hey," she says, with a flicker of more attention for the young Mister Solomon Blackstone Quicksilver. Non-Hermetics are liable to blink at such a name, or at least make faces [man, they don't get it, it's all about the Naming!], but Kage doesn't. "Same House or?" Kage means or part of Bran and Justine's house. "Welcome to Chicago." She'll shake the kids hand, polite, see, and then say, to Ashley, "You should come over. You're invited, even. Ta."

And with that, the Orphan is out.

[K. R. Jakes] ooc: er, wait

[K. R. Jakes] ooc: slip a "Kage R. Jakes" in just before the "Same House, or?" question! (grin)

[K. R. Jakes] K. R. Jakes
Tue 5:12 pm
Roll valid
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
to†K. R. Jakes

[Ashley McGowen] "Nah, he's Veriditus?" she asks, with a sidelong look at the other.

There's a pleased smile when Kage tells Ashley that she's invited over, the sort of expression that would probably not grace her features under more sober circumstances, whether she were pleased or not. Alcohol can be an excellent refuge for the reserved (shy); it helps them shrug the bonds of self-consciousness.

And a quick wave to the Orphan before she makes her exit. As she's on her way out the door, she says to Solomon, "Kage Jakes. You'll probably see her around once in a while."

[Nathan Spriggs] After a moment of considering it carefully, Nathan made his choice when he noticed Solomon. He recognized him, and he was with Ashley, but that part of it slipped his mind. If he was ruining Ashley's night again or she seemed particularly unhappy, he'd head off, but for now he'd drop in and say hello to Solomon. Not being far off from them in the first place, it only took a few steps to approach them, though he kept a short distance just in case, he didn't want to intrude.

"Hey, Solomon, I haven't seen you around," he spoke with an almost-pleasant tone, not because he was having trouble pretending otherwise, but because that was the best he could manage after the episode with Kage.

[Solomon Quicksilver] "Bonisagus, actually." He grins. And has a compulsive twitch in his finger, like he should push up his glasses and maybe scrunch up his nose when he says it. It's a strange thing for someone so young to be in that house. The house of old fuddyduddies. Tinkering on the edge of theory rather than practicality.

He turns to watch Kage walk out. Not staring at her butt or anything, no, not that he wouldn't maybe in other circumstances.

He turns back around. "Cool." He grins and points to the drink she'd mentioned. "How about that drink, and then I'll explain this to you." Motioning with one finger to the dice.