[K. R. Jakes] The exhausted (driven) teenager sleeps through the rest of the night. This leaves Kage and Gregor quite some time to converse. There may have been an incident at some point. Maybe a pillowcase or a shirt gets turned into something material and not at all pillowcase or shirtlike. Maybe at some point Kage told Gregor to go shut his eyes and nap. Probably, at some point, Kage zonked out. But only if Gregor was awake. At some point, after The Incident, Kage bandaged the Bean's hands with some ace bandage -- trying to keep them steady, unable to grab hold of anything, make this a little easier. We'll see if that works.
And then! Then it was morning, sunlight shining through windows in a distinct what snow fashion. Second before cloudcover swallows the day again and spits it out dimmer, duller.
[K. R. Jakes] ooc: have at it. (wave of hand)
[K. R. Jakes] ooc: oh shit! i thought y'all said everything she grabs turns to, uh *dies* ahem, amend that to
IC: -- BANDAGES ATTEMPTED, failed. Taffy? So gross. Kage'll hold the teenage girl's damned hands when she's not giving that task to Gregor.
[Henri Bean] * The Bandages hadn't worked, though Henri'd let Kage try, managing a dismal half smirk when they turned to taffy. Which she chews on as they consider other options. At least it tasted like food. Henri had slept like the dead once she'd finally figured out how to contend with her magic mits, curled up small and quiet, fuzzy mane of hair splayed out on the pillows. The morning light streams in and Henri finally stirs, blinking owlishly at whoever's nearby, her hair flat on the side she'd curled up on to sleep.*
HEY!
*She sits up, beaming manic and looking about the room.*
[Gregor] "...Settle."
It creeps in tiredly from off the Henri's left, the beside a mash of taffy bits and sullied sheets. The night hadn't been a total loss of control. A blanket or two striped down to salt and raw beans. A pillow case lost to the throws of brown sugar. Little else, really. They'd done a good job of minimizing damage.
Gregor was dressed in the same pattern of clothes from the previous night. His features were drawn and the bags under his eyes the same. A long night, filled with spats and spurts of sleep, followed by long minutes and dressings of staring at walls, working over the near future conversations he had to have and speaking in bits and pieces with Kage.
Mostly he stared. Explained or dozed quietly, ever careful and cautious of the fizzling like sound that accompanied a sudden transmogrification. Thus far the sheets had been the only catastrophe but keeping them in place meant nothing below them could be altered.
He looked on Henri briefly, before climbing to his feet off a nearby chair tucked off into a corner. He turned and pointed to a glass of water with a bendy straw sitting on one of the nearby nightstands.
"...Get something in your system. We've gotta get going soon..." Scrubbing his face. Eyes. Neck. Long nights indeed.
[Henri Bean] *She's told to settle, and she squirms, remembering her hands at the last minute as she pushes herself towards the bendy straw with her elbows. She had sugar in her hair. She didn't remember that happening. A thirsty slurp and a grin of appreciation.*
I can see again mate! Its not all bloody impressionism! Things are better already! Think my mitts are safe yet?
*Its a moment before it registers in her addled little brain that he mentioned going somewhere.*
Where're we goin? Didja sleep a wink? Even a wink mate?
[Gregor] "I slept some."
He stretches, arms and hands reaching overhead, broadening and widening to the farthest they can go until he's managed to clasp and grasp at the aches and pains making homes and nests inside his joints and frame. He yawns behind a fist, head shaking the proverbial dust free before regarding Henri with a craning neck.
"Well that's something we need to figure out. I'm fairly sure your hands should maintain some distance from most things, I...don't really know if they're safe or not. Maybe we can run some tests. Regardless, I think it's best we get you someplace safe for the time being. Out of the way."
He moves around the bed, plucking up a pair of pants slung over one of the bed rails. He comes around to the side where Henri's legs are pointing and he flaps them open, eying her almost expectantly.
[K. R. Jakes] Not long ago, the redhead left her room [she'd been curled up on the floor, on a rug] and padded barefoot down the hall and into the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. That's what the apartment smells like right now: coffee.
Her attention had been straying, because He was around, making comments. Don't you wish you could turn a stone to water, lovely one? And laughing it up. Imagine what would happen if - As a result, Kage is wearing a couple of layers of clothes. Just in case. It's not that warm in her apartment. Not freezing, but cool.
What's that? Little teenage mage awake? How the heck is she going to drink coffee? Pot's not brewed yet, and Kage waits until it is. Then -- then she'll go and see how Henri's doing this morning. Even as she contemplates the day to come, Kage's features grow a little wistful [wishful] and distant.
[Henri Bean] Kay. I can do that.
*She sighs and begins to shuffle towards the pants, a blush creeping in her cheeks at her own inability to dress herself.*
Wait! Wait! waitaminute I'ma go pee!
*And Henri is streaking around in her underwear looking for the nearest bathroom, hands held up like a gopher as she does so.*
[K. R. Jakes] [bathroom door closed... bathroom door not closed... evens, it's closed. odds, it's not.]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Gregor] "Whoa...Hold o-...Henri, Hold on..."
Gregor's hands are up, sleeves pre-emptively pushed back to the elbows, body moving in and out of the frantic Teenager's path as she goes rushing into the hallway and toward the top of the stairs in search of a bathroom.
"...Henri, this way...this way-" He visited the bathroom several times during the evening, voice carrying that demanding tone that clearly looked for the young Etherite's attention beyond all other things. He'd step and direct her toward the bathroom, leaning against the door jam, ready to reach out and close the door behind her when she finally got in.
[Henri Bean] *She's so light without her utility belt on all the time. Fairly skipping with newfound hope for the day, allowing Gregor to corral her into the washroom. The door shuts, and there's silence a moment, before she dissolves into cursing. *
Well fuckin.. AUGH! Gregor? Ca-fuck that won't work. Nevermind....
*She trots back out looking incensed, rubbing her face with those midas hands of hers and sighing.*
I'll hold it. Forever.
[Gregor] "...Wha-...Oh." He flicks a glance down at her Smurf underoos and offers a tired sigh and a nod. "Right. Just..." He motions toward the bed that they can get the pants thing in order. Perhaps Kage could give Henri a hand with the whole underwear thing at some point or another but...that might be pushing it.
Regardless, Gregor moves to the bed, once more plucking up the pants. He settles into a crouch, flattening the garments on the ground for Henri to step into- "Put your hands on my head" so that she didn't accidentally touch a shoulder and dissolve his sweater into mince meat pie.
The pants would go up with a quick snap and a few shimmys to ensure they were on properly. Then a button and a zipper later and Henri would be presentable again.
"...Henri where do you live?"
[Henri Bean] *Henri helps. Or tries to help, grabbing Gregor's noggin and stepping carefully into the pants. She sighs once she's in clothing again, wiggling her skinny hips in victory.*
Live? Well, dun live anywhere right now mate. Ashley's got all my ruddy gear, and My dilly too.
[Henri Bean] Less she junked it.
*She scowls, too blue eyes flashing. Her hands ball into fists at her sides.*
She better not have junked it. I'ma kick her ass twice, she junked my gear. Guts for garters mate. Guts for garters.
[K. R. Jakes] This has to be humiliating for Henri. Being dressed by some (almost [not]) stranger. Unable to go to the bathroom without trouble. Relying on the kindness of. Kage, in her position, would be a lot less cheerful, even if it was a bright new day, full of hope, etcetera. The teenager'd come streaking out, Gregor right behind her, a most excellent teenage mage sheepdog sort, and Kage had poured the coffee. It would be a lie to say there was no tension, coiled at the nape of her neck, at the base of her skull. It would also be a lie to say that she slept very much [no (dream)] last night.
Still. "Morning," she calls, back toward her room, because that's where Henri-and-Gregor-as-[creepy]-sheepdog have vanished off to again. Instead of bringing the coffee with her when she pads back that-a-way, she leaves the mugs on the counter, knocks on her own door hel-lo and leans against it.
"What's a dilly?"
[Gregor] "...I'm going to go see Ashley later today..." A pause. A frown. "...Or tonight. I'm not sure yet but we need to get you to a place where you can sit and be comfortable for a time until this actually wears off. Once we've done that I'll find Ashley and get your things and bring them back to you for safe keeping."
He plucks up his jacket, miraculously made it through the evening and the morning without being changed into cabbage. Remarkable. Gregor stares at the sleeves, then at Henri, tongue flicking at one corner of his lips before he's bunching the sleeves of the overly large coat up as much as he can. Finally, there is a hole through which, Henri can put her hand with minimal to no contact with the cuff or crushed together sleeve.
The same would be done with the other arm, followed by the aging Fellow digging into the various pockets of his track pants to come away with a collection of elastic bands. These would be wrapped around the wrist and cuff of the jacket, ensuring her fingers and palms kept well away from the material.
(Dex + Athletics: Get on there jacket!)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Henri Bean] *She wriggles and winces and hisses, but she'd soon dressed and ready to go, though all this talk of Ashley has her grinding her teeth and reaching atop her head for goggles that aren't there anymore. She scowls and shakes her head.*
Nuh uh. Ashley'll try and find me or something. Her and Wharil. He can ruddy do it too mate. NOthin doin. I'll get my junk back once Dylan's safe as houses.
Hi Kage!
*She waves at the door, wincing as she looks over her shoulder at the state of the bed. All in all, it would appear the Bean is ready and willing to just stride out into the world and Find Dylan.*
[K. R. Jakes] "If they can both find you anyway, what does it matter if Gregor collects your things from her? It would probably make finding you more difficult for Ashley and Wharil, all's truth. Hi, Henri." The Orphan smiles, but it's a faint thing; touches her dark eyes, but only just, and certainly doesn't lighten them. Delicate [sharp (plain)] woman is a little bit weary, but coffee makes that better. "Do you want something to eat? I mean, something that was maybe good, not transformed? Bacon or a bagel?"
When Dylan's safe as houses, Henri says, with the perfect faith of someone who can't really see another option, and Kage does not (does not) wince, but those five words definitely still something inside, give her a new center of balance.
"So you don't really have anywhere to sleep or lay low or run tests? How long have you been looking for your friend?"
[Gregor] "...Dylan's-"
He grunts with the effort, head shaking askew, crackling vertebrae rumbling on the outskirts of a stretched thing world. He steps away from the dressed Etherite to glance up at Kage, affecting a smile and a nod that are half-hearted at best. His thoughts are elsewhere, that much is clear. Kage could talk. It was her turn to talk.
Gregor begins gathering up his own layers, a small pile tucked away in the corner of Kage's bedroom. Layer upon layer, laid out to keep the warmth firmly embedded, to last as long as possible out in the cold. He gathers near a window, peeking out at the world without, as if he could gauge the height or depth of the cold by just those means.
[Henri Bean] Couple weeks now maybe? Time gets a bit muzzy yeah? And I guess I'd be better with yogurt or pussing or something I can drink through a straw like.. OH! I've an energy drink somewhere in my pockets I'd bet. That'll do me fine. Though I guess the sheila's gotta point bout my gear, and I sure would like to get Dilly ba-
*Gregor say's Dylan's...nothing, and it draws her attention. The Etherites' head falling sideways at a nearly breakneck angle.*
What is it mate?
[K. R. Jakes] "I can heat up some soup. Not breakfasty, but," a slight shrug, and Gregor has stopped. He said that name, and he stopped, and he gave Kage a distant (his mind elsewhere) look, and now he is standing at her bedroom window, looking out at the cool [white] light, cityscape. Kage's own gaze goes unfocused for a moment (aloof), and then her shoulders rise and fall [determined (steadying)]. "I think you two need a plan."
Kage gave Gregor a moment (half a second) to decide he was going to answer Henri's question. He isn't. That much is as clear as glass (break you later). The red-haired Orphan tilts her head -- out, out, out of the bedroom, people! Then: "Okay. Listen: Remember what I asked last night before you dropped into dreamland, Henri?"
[Henri Bean] G'night! Somethin about toffee?
*Henri yawns, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.*
[K. R. Jakes] "Earlier. Whether or not you had an invention that could read the truth in somebody's head. You said no. And I asked you if you wanted to know what I knew about your Dylan. C'mon, out of the bedroom. Soup, and then forward. You've got coffee on the counter, Gregor."
[Gregor] "...It's appreciated Kage."
He pulls his attention from the window, lifting off the wall and pulling on the last sweater in his assortment, bulking his frame out more then is true. He walks across the bedroom, eyes taking up Kage momentarily before switching to Henri. There is that same frown, forlorn and lasting enough to have left creases in the flesh where it would appear. He waits for the pair of women to exit the room before following behind them, a lingering glance cast at the ingredients on the bed before he follows them to the Kitchen.
[Henri Bean] *Henri hops up on a counter, barefeet swinging as she wiggles her bony ass until she's comfortable. Head still cranked sideways in question, she looks to Kage and Gregor in turn, suspicion growing behind wildly blue eyes.*
Whats that then? What're you on about?
[K. R. Jakes] Kage lays it out simply. "Ashley told you that Dylan went mad? But the -- " a brief pause. Words are important. Would that she knew which ones to use. Would that she could forget what she saw and walk the hell away from this entire problem [it isn't right]. "But I saw this: Dylan Willis is dead. There is no Dylan. There is -- someone else in his body. It isn't Dylan. He's gone and I know of no way to bring him back."
[Henri Bean] [well. Lets be mature about this Henrietta]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Henri Bean] [and do we remember our hands? - wits-]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Henri Bean] *Henri's eyes narrow and she tenses. Slender frame suddenly stiff and vibrating. Dylan was dead. Dylan was dead? Dylan wasn't dead! She sensed him. Him. Her hands ball into fists as she sniffs. *
Thats bollox. Thats bollox right there! Been tracking him! Its probably just blood dox again is all! He ain't dead. I 've been traaAAA-
*Its right about then she thumps her fists on the countertop and crashes backwards into the bowls underneath, a rain of pastry crumbling after her. There's flailing and a wail, teenager thrashing about, those socked feet kicking as she no doubt turns a good deal more matter into food products of assorted types, until finally there's just the soft sounds of sobbing from inside the cupboard. Legs hanging limp.*
[Gregor] "...I've been keeping track of the one you call Dylan as well, Henri. Since the first moment he lashed out and..." There is a wince. Memory. A shard of the horror he'd tasted then, watching the Others glory and surge toward that rarity of shallows.
"...He did something and has been doing it ever since...randomly...without pattern...Wandering and with him...a Fire-" He can't keep the fear out of his voice this time. It's a tremble. "-scorching footsteps and..."
He moves around the counter, settling into a crouch a good six feet from the young woman.
"...Kage was with him that night. The last one to see him, I think-" A glance up at the young Orphan, brow furrowed. He'd yet to hear of another of their kind making contact.
[K. R. Jakes] Kage isn't nearly as cool (callous [untouched]) about the counter turning into piecrust and Henri dropping through it and into the shelves (and bowls) beneath. The girl sobs, soft, and why wouldn't she. Kage took a quick step forward as soon as she saw those fists about to make contact. And she is not a good six feet away from Henri. That would be wise, maybe, cautious, if not a little heartless [controlled], and these are not things that Kage is. Nope! She's right on top of that. "Let me help you out." Her voice is even, though [if burnished, intent], and she reaches to do just that.
"Gregor, please," subtext: don't explain. "It's not just paradox. What do you want to do, Henri? I'm not going to stop you. I'm not even going to try. But it's the truth; I wish it wasn't."
[Henri Bean] *Henri's legs are drawn through the hole where the counter used to be, one by one. Fully inside the cupboard now, silent a few moments before there kitchen vibrates with a high keening noise. Vaguely electronic but distinctly mammalian as the diminutive Etherite dissolves into crying. The dull rhythmic thump of her head against wood. She blubbers.*
S'not fair. S'not fair.
*The air all but crackles, pulses, dissolves, reforms and dissembles. Everything suddenly seeming kooky and disorganized and clockwork chaotic. She could make this not so. She could will this not so. *
[Gregor] Gregor stands apart.
It is an easy thing to do. Easier then would normally be called for and easier yet to pull back and re-arrange things so that this wasn't his problem. His problem was a fiery and uncontrollable creature washing the city in small shallows. Spreading feasts for-
[b]No Time for this[/i]/Shut up
He picks himself up from the floor, gazing down at the little Etherite. Kage's words from before, a desperate please that washed the world away momentarily and clapped his jaws shut firmly. The frown remained in place and the spastic flash of Henri's resonance hammered at his senses, drew his gaze tighter and his eyes on the counter top that had been undone.
"Alright..." Quietly. Thinking. Eyes darting.
[K. R. Jakes] Aw. Kage isn't going to drag Henri out of the cupboard. The Orphan touches Henri's -- arm? Shoulder? Elbow? Knee? Whatever is closest. Then she withdrew. Balanced, crouched. She followed Gregor, lifting himself up and standing back, with her eyes, and then turned her attention back to the [unstable] Machine Poet. "No. It's not."
[Henri Bean] *When the cupboard door finally creaks open and an Etherite army crawls out, she's red faced and tear soaked, hiccupping quietly. She clasps her hands together and mutters.*
M'gunno go. Kay? M'gunna go now.
[Gregor] There's something under Gregor's brief glance down to Kage, gaze catching that 'No it's not' for a brief instant, before it passes over Henri. She's gonna go. Somewhere-
-A hand reaches out toward her, the tall figure's features having drawn down into a set mask. He waits for the Etherite to pick herself clear of the pasta frenzy, nodding only once with hands held out.
"...You're still projecting and...we need to get you someplace safer then this for the time being. Where yo-...where you can think for a time. Sit down and...just be somewhere else for a time." A pause. Hesitance. Like there was more that couldn't really be said. Offered or taken.
[K. R. Jakes] "I said. I'm not going to stop you. But where are you going to go? What are you going to do? Let Gregor help you."
[Henri Bean] *A wet hand slips into Gregor's, older man getting a palm full of mad scientist tears. Standing up, she makes to hug herself before remembering her hands once more, and leaving them in Gregor's grasp with a wimp. She nods. She's done making decisions for awhile. Eyes squeezed tightly shut as she rasps and shakes with the force of contained sobs. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Dylan was her friend. Her friend. None of this made sense. It wasn't fair. Later she'd think of vengeance. Later she'd think of questions. Later she'd think. Right now, all the girl in Kage's ruined kitchen was doing was missing. Missing her mom. Missing Dylan. Hell. Missing a goddamn hug.*
[Gregor] "...I'm going to take her to the..." A frown of remembrance. "The chantry, Wharil called it." His gaze flicked to Kage as if to confirm he'd used the right word. "I'll make up a room for her to sleep and settle in..."
His face offers a wane smile that contains little humour.
"Thank you, Kage and-" A flick of a glance at her apartment. Ever the domicile of the suffered. "...I'm sorry, again, for what it's worth." He'd take up Henri's hand, nodding without another word for her to follow along.
"If you're not busy at some point or another, you should pay the place a visit..." Something there as well. Buried beneath a suggestion. His shoulders are stiff from a long night of little sleep and his system is shot from the track and hunt of the last month. New bodies to add to the mixture. New bodies to weigh the moment. New problems with no solutions. Stack 'em on, Stack 'em on.
[K. R. Jakes] Kage gives Gregor a long (contemplative) look. Her fingers flick up to her hair, push a lock (unwashed) back behind one ear. "You came in a taxi cab," she says, not without [subsumed] humor. Gregor has a look about him -- something dedicated (devoted), driven (strings, sir?), forward-seeking. "I can drive you. But the White Fence House? Is everything with the Node all on the level then? The place cleaned up? No more -- " a brief pause, substitute something for blood and gore and guts. " -- bloody mess?"
[Henri Bean] *Henri trails along in a heartbroken daze. Dylan was gone. Dylan was Gone. Maybe she was a bad luck charm, Like Jacques had said. Maybe the universe had just decided that she, Henri Bean, Girl-Genius, was unlovable. Or maybe life just wasn't fucking fair. Fresh tears on the stairs as she follows Gregor wherever he chooses to take her. It didn't matter much anymore.*
[Gregor] "...Wharil was taking care of it last I was there. It should be mostly...repaired. Node itself is-..."
A pause. Something odd on his face. Writing the proper words from the place of his memory.
"...The Guardian is open to interaction. The Node in need of rest and recovery. It is, I believe, on stand by, until it finds something worthy." As best he can remember or translate or...Gregor looks at Kage and nods. The extent of what he knows. Has. Understands.
"...She'll be safe enough there. I'll stay with her until this has passed, at least."
The pair are ushering toward the front door, Gregor picking his way over pieces of pasta and toward the stairwell outside.
[K. R. Jakes] "Good," Kage says. "Please do."
Gregor leads Henri toward the front door. Kage grabs her jacket, her car-keys and tries not to [blanche] look at her kitchen [what the hell is she going to tell the landlord?]. No; can't do it. Gregor also has this feel about him -- someone using vocabulary that isn't her own, precisely, and this causes Kage to frown (shadow) just a little. She wouldn't mistake him for another Orphan now. No, now he seems all Traditionalist. They both do: Machine Poet and Spiritspeaker both. Kage locks her door and rests her forehead against it (they'll already be down the stairs, at least a little, so this is private).
Then: badum, badum, badum! Quick on down those stairs! She opens the front door of the building with a flourish. Black truck chariot awaits. And away, away they'll go. Hopefully, Gregor knows the way, because Kage has never visited the white fence house before [isolationist].
[K. R. Jakes] [roll credits!]
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