between girls

[K. R. J.] [?!?! flaw?!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
to†S. Ashton Winters

[Lara Wrathburn] The chantry was as convenient place as any for now to Lara to inhabit, she wasnt a particular fan of it, but it was better then living on the street, better then sleeping on a park bench, or in some dingy motel that is infested with fleas, mites, or roaches. She might not mind these things, in fact she's slept in worse, but for now it would be nice to have a hot shower, and a bed that conforms to you, and not you conforming to the bed.

The sounds of falling water, pattering down into the basin of the shower can be heard by those below, and the feeling of moisture for any who goes near the door to the upstairs washroom, the woman is taking a steaming hot shower the tell tale signs given off by tendrils of vapor that twist and rise only to disperse in the cooler air from beyond the door.

This was something she had needed, something in relative security, something she could use....for now.

[Emily Littleton] The rain is coming. Emily could already hear the call of its tattoo, beating down on the roof of her building, pressing into the sidewalks, tapping against windowsills, brusquely pushing aside leaves, sweeping clean everything, everything, even the air that they breathe. It's coming, it's almost here now, it's a smear of ugly orange-red-yellow ringed with green on the doppler; it's the scent of ozone in the air. It's coming.

It's coming.

Just like the doom that hangs over them, ominous like storm clouds, thick and heavy and grey. It follows, just over their shoulders; makes her stop on street corners and look both ways, twice, just in case this time, this time she isn't imagining it.

It's hard not to feel paranoid with all of this foreshadowing going on. A girl could drown in days like these. Could get lost in these days' nights. Emily finds herself before the white fence house again, but longs to be deeper into the woods, where the rain and the wind and the wet earth were everything. But she's here, and not in Tekakwitha. She's here, and the Verdana isn't that far away.

There's only a few steps up to the Chantry porch. Only a few paces across the porch to the door. The door never seems to be locked, and she (supposedly) belongs here now. She pushes it open, lets in the hot humid air to swirl about her ankles -- muggy, it's sticky-warm; thick -- as she steps into the front room.

She does not call Hello, the House, for this is not that House and she doesn't quite belong that much. She does close the door behind her, move toward the message board, listen for voices from one room or another. This is not a happy House, no, but it is a meeting House. There is water (wonder) in the Well; it is enough to gather them near.

[S. Ashton Winters] There is no child here today.

The living room smells like water and feels like who-knows-what. A handgun is strewn into pieces. she has taken it apart. Carefully, lovingly, like she would with any other tool, and has painstakingly started to put it back together.she watches as she does it, assembles the pieces once everything is cleaned. Maybe this was cathartic in its own way.

It was all motions. All meditative motions.

There's stormclouds overhead, and despite the fact that it was insanely hot, Ashton seemed.... serene. Attire is comfortable. Union blue scrubs, a messy ponytail, and no shoes.

This place needs a new radio.

[Emily Littleton] It's cold in the living room. Not AC on full blast cold, either. It's Ashton cold, when Emily walks into the room. Winter in the middle of June, cold. Christmas in July cold.

"Hi, Ashton," she says, lending her voice to help place the quiet sound of approaching foosteps. Emily's accent was unmistakable. Unique. Her hands are wrapped around the strap of her messenger bag. She's wearing a lavender tee and jeans. Flip flops. Hair unbound. It's summer, and the sun has kissed her skin just so much more browned than before. Not bronzed, but not moonpale white either.

Emily comes a bit more into the room, finds a seat to occupy. Watches while the Wheel-Turner works. Watches attentively. Studies.

[K. R. J.] There is a shower on somewhere in the house -- some part of the house she isn't (allowed [cleared]) to go. Water, running; water, falling. There are rainclouds outside: above, around, a net; a cathedral's sky, a ceiling, a border, a boundary. Water, running; water, falling. The sink is on in the kitchen. Water, running; water, falling. Water, collected in a teakettle that is a dark green: the colour of the undersides of North Atlantic waves. The teakettle: put on the stove, water, still, contained, sloshes, nowhere to run, still, kept. Heat: begins to work its fingers through the kettle and into the water. Nowhere to run, see. Nowhere to go but: transformation [change], and up.

When the water is on, when it boils itself into a shriek, a piercing note, all done, all done, Kage takes the kettle off the stove, pours it into the cheap teapot she found in the back of a cupboard, where there is some Good Tea now Stocked Just In Case, House-Warming Gift, Let's Call It That. As soon as all the water she can pour [water, running; water, falling] is in the pot, she casts about for the lid -- Kage isn't one of those cooks with a lot of forethought, and she put it somewhere, somewhere convenient, only alas, right now, the convenience of it is a mystery because where the fuck is the fucking lid, ah, there -- and then pops that on.

And when that's done, Kage re-joins the Euthanatos in the living room, a timer in hand. She's pleased to see that she has been joined by Emily.

"All right, Ashes. The tea is on -- you're welcome to some, Em -- and I have a timer. Let's see how fast you can do this."

[Lara Wrathburn] The water upstairs cuts off abruptly, the obvious indication that its occupant is either done of her own accord, or has drained the hot water tank dry. Foot steps are heard for a few moments, the person getting dressed, or doing whatever it was she was doing in that sauna like room. So different from Ashton's preferences, the polar opposite infact, and one could wonder what the reaction will be moving from tropically hot, almost frigid.

The sound of feet on the staircase, pattering down quickly but softly brings the redheaded cultist into view, she has apparently made herself RIGHT at home, as she is dressed in a light blue tanktop, and a pair of black boy cut panties. She gasps as she steps down into the cool air of the living room and looks about wide eyed at the two women sitting there, her green eyes wide with surprise.

"How are you not frozen solid?" She asks in surprise as she looks between the three women.

[S. Ashton Winters] "Hey Emily," is the greetng she gets.

She sounds serene. She feels serene. She is serene. The house is cold and that little bit of solace is all she needs to remind her that summer is not permanent. She starts to roll her shoulders back, and her head cocks to the side. Her neck pops, and the woman winces from the sound.

She needs to stretch more.

"How come you haven't melted?" she asks Lara. Quick retort, and a grin at Kage. Rise to the challenge.

[Emily Littleton] There is a pull here, in two different directions, and it tugs impatiently on her attention. There is pantslessness here, in one corner, wearing a thin shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination; here is Cold Fire Hair, an Other, a friend, in another with a timer and a tea kettle tasked to whistle at the appointed time. Pantslessness, then: a raised eyebrow, surprised, a polite look away from long legs that give not even a nod to propriety (this is a Meeting House [a place of doom and portents!]). Rowan-haired: a smile, widening, an understanding Oh!

"Tea sounds lovely, cheers," she says, her voice mellifluous and warm enough. It is riddled through with places not here and not now, but the predominant note is British. "And what's the time-to-beat? Do you have a personal record?"

A beat. Just a little hesitation. "I'd like to learn; if you'll teach me." That's all, moving along. Glossing over. The. End.

Oh, and now, a small smile -- and eye contact, for Emily's not letting her gaze roam, not now -- for the pantsless one. "It's rather a nice change from out of doors," she says. Wry curl, left side of her mouth; dark blue eyes, dancingly bright. Shod through with slate chips, stormy. Amused.

"I didn't know you'd moved in," she says, which is a round-about qay of getting at And who are you?

[K. R. J.] "Warm hearts," Kage says, deadpan, "And clothing." Her mouth quirks; something kin to mischief; amusement, tucked away like an ungettable kiss. "Hi, Lara. Have you met Ashes or Emily yet?"

Then: Kage is settling herself on the floor in front of Ashton. Her eyebrows are well-raised; she's ready to start the timer. First, though - "What was your record, Ashes? Last I remember it was, what, sixty-two seconds?"

[S. Ashton Winters] "Sixty one point seven three, thank you," because she would remember the miliseconds.

The woman stops for a second. Muses over this. And she's ready to start the timer. Ashton looks at Kage, and she lets her hands rest, calmly, on the tops of her thighs.

"... you know, last time, I wasn't sober when I did this, so this should be interesting."

[Lara Wrathburn] Lara's eyes track from the woman and her gun, to Kage, the one she had met on a patio for a bistro that was far, far to expensive for her wallet but certainly not her tastes, and then finally over to Emily who all made quips about her suddenly being overly cold. She smiles ruefully at the women gathered here and spoke.

"For what I've tasted of desire I hold for those who favor fire." She says in a rhyming tune as if that should settle the matter entirely. "And no...I haven't." She says stepping forward into the room, regardless of the cold, even as goosebumps briefly flared on her skin, causing hairs to stand on end.

[Emily Littleton] It's possible that the other women are just more accustomed to this particularly localized weather effect. Or maybe they secretly lust after snow on balmy summer nights. Emily has goosebumps, too, but it's not enough to send her reaching for a sweater or complaining about the sudden chill. It's just Ashton; and if a toddler can tolerate it without whining, she can as well.

"Wow," she says, as if this number means something to her. She surmises, from its precision, that it is impressive. Really, Emily doesn't know much about firearms or their skill-based timed trials.

She raises a hand, waves, and offers Lara a less wry and dismissive smile. It's polite, enough. Almost warm enough to touch her eyes. Reserved. Falls short of truly friendly.

"Hey." Beat. "I'm Emily. A pleasure to meet you."

[K. R. J.] "If you'd like to learn, Em, I know a good firing range. And if you'd like some tea to help you warm up, Lara, it's in the kitchen; probably ready by now."

Now that poem is going to be in Kage's head all day: I think I know enough of hate, she thinks, but does not say, not aloud. Her gaze goes briefly upward; touches the ceiling, studies it, tracks toward a place in the House she remembers. Then: back to now, the present. Here.

"You can tell it to the twenty you're going to owe me in your goodbye speech," Kage says, when Ashton mentions sobriety or the lack there of, and that quirk of her mouth becomes a brief, easy smile. Lines around her mouth; lines around her eyes. Kage's bone-structure is delicate, and so, it would seem, is her skin. "Let's see you go. Count've three. One two three."

Timer: started.

[S. Ashton Winters] [awcrap!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
to†K. R. J.

[Lara Wrathburn] "Lara." Her full pouty lips stretch into a smile that also reaches her eyes, friendly as can be it would seem. She saunters over to look down at the gun on the table, and at the competition that was now underway. She chuckles lightly and moved towards the kitchen, headed for the subtle aroma that was the tea that was now ready and waiting.

She gathers for herself a nice big mug of steaming hot liquid and moves comes back, setting it down on whatever surface is not currently occupied by deadly firearms, before moving off once more, heading for the stairs that lead up. "I'll be right back..." She says as she mounts the stairs casually, not in any hurry at all.

[S. Ashton Winters] "Ashton Winters," she offers. The woman gets an upward nod, though she doesn't seem one to touch.

The woman inspects Lara, and that's what it is, genuinely, an inspection. She looks over her finer details, over her cheekbones and her green eyes and her legs that seem to trail onward. It's a problem, because she is watching people and listening when Kage says she's got to start on the count of three.

"And I can teach you if you'd like, Em," one two three.

Go.

She starts assembling the thing. It's like watching a zen master at work. It's all careful and practiced and effortless and strenuous and a world of contraditions. It is what it is. Ashton moves with her gun, the one that's hers and no one else's, and can reassemble it with little problem. She's talking the whole time.

"It's not really hard to shoot. If you ever played X-box or Duck Hunt when you were little-" pieces are clicking and being put into place and soon enough, her firearm is assembled "-then you shouldn't have any problem."

The pieces come apart again with little problem. It's all the same. Just like surgery, and they come apart. And just like surgery, it all goes back together.

"there are a few who are twenty-four hours, too."

Fifty-nine-sixty-

Reassembled again. Twice.

[Emily Littleton] This Orphan (mind you, not that Orphan) has a remarkably keen sense of technological things, how they fit into spaces, how their pieces fit together, lock step, rock, move, interconnect, clip together -- Oh! So that's how -- this is all to say, she's adept at understanding the way things work. All this before magic comes into play. She gets it; she gets this, even if she couldn't replicate the movements just yet.

Moreover, she gets that this is damned impressive.

"I'd like that," she says, looking between Kage and Ashton with an appreciative smile. "I've shot a gun once; it didn't go horribly. I'd just prefer to know what I'm doing, how to take care of them, all of that."

Emily took good care of her tools. A gun was a tool. It was something to empower her against all the things that went bump in the night -- mundane and magical -- to leave her a little less helpless, less vulnerable.

"I'm going to get some tea," she says, rising from her seat and slipping the messenger bag's strap over her head. The bag falls into the seat cushion of where she'd been before, with a little thump. Its strap trails to the floor, forlornly. "I'll be right back."

[K. R. J.] "It's not really hard to shoot," Kage echoes, watching Ashton Winters be an extension of the gun: constructing, de-constructing and re-constructing so fluidly [water runs, water falls] that it looks far more effortless than it must be. Looks as if Ashton exhales, and the machine comes apart in her hands; she inhales, and it comes together. "But it's not easy to shoot well. Especially when you're trying to hit something moving."

When Ashton has finished, Kage reaches into her backpocket, pulls out a sleek and slender wallet, opens it, pulls out a couple of bills, and drops them on the table. Her expression isn't one of rue, although maybe there's a touch of that at the corner of her mouth: "I concur. You are faster than the Gunslinger now."

I'll be right back, Lara says.
I'll be right back, Emily says.

Kage offers both a faint smile, a nod; acknowledgment is a thing expressed in a glance, not so much in words.

[Lara Wrathburn] Footsteps are heard overhead once more as Lara moves about, looking through her for a few moments as the initial scores are tallied on who has the fastest reassembly in the mid west.

It didn't take long for Lara to come back downstairs, in her hand a bottle of tequila and a deck of cards. Her intention was clear, if the women wanted to play at games of skill and dexterity, why not play a game everyone could get into.

"So have we figured out just who is the fastest hmmm?" She asks as she walks back into the room. "Why don't we put away the gun for a bit...and try something a little more group friendly?" She suggests as she arrives at the table they are all crowded around, the tequila set down, and the cards held in hand, which she flicks to the side to emphasize the idea. She smiles, and could look for all the world like some kind of model for a poker tournament.

[S. Ashton Winters] Ashton mouthes something to Kage.

It looks like Blue's O.B. Peach.

The cultist comes back with tequila and cards, and Ashton, for her part, perks up a little. This seemed to be what she did when she left the toddler with someone other than a mage. Ashton came to the chantry and did strange, strange things, that may or may not involve alcohol.

"Either game seems like it would result in losing a finger," she says, "but yours involves tequila."

Doc Winters approves.

[Emily Littleton] It doesn't take but a moment, and then Emily is back. She's carrying a mug of tea in one hand, blowing over its still-steaming surface, padding her way across the floors that used to be carpeted but now did not squish-squick beneath her soles.

So many memories. So many memories for only half a year's time.

Now the Cultist has booze, cards, and remains pantsless. Emily studies her for a moment, that easy flick of cards, the way the Tequila lands as its set down. The cant of her head, or her hips, or -- suspicious, this Orphan is, of the good natured fun at hand.

But apparently, that's all it is. Whatever test she's administering with the rake of her dark eyes, Lara passes. Emily shrugs away the concern, tables it so to speak, and reclaims her chair with a slightly lazier slouch than usual. She sips at her tea and considers cards.

"What do you have in mind?" she queries, open-endedly. Apparently not all Cultists are harbingers of doom, like a certain Mr. Spriggs.

[K. R. J.] "You have found her weakness," Kage says, of Ashton and tequila. Says it easily, the way one says things that aren't really true, but also aren't really untrue. Doesn't add her question to Emily's; it's implied. Leans her weight back on her arms, bracing her up, torso at an angle, a casual creature, just as if the White Fence House really were safe and sanctuary.

[Lara Wrathburn] "Just a fun game between girls, say...twenty dollar buy in, with the added fun of whoever win's each hand gets to make everybody else drink?" She says as she sets the cards down slowly on the table, meaningfully, they notice now that there is twenty dollars set ontop, Lara's buy in it would appear.

She smiles as she looks from person to person now much more comfortable it would seem, in her element, ready to have a good time and bring others along with her, who knows maybe after this they would all be good friends, or at least drinking friends.

"I'm not to picky on the game...but I figure poker or black jack would be the most user friendly, I mean we could try drinking asshole, but I really only have the one deck, and thats not all that fun."

[S. Ashton Winters] (skip me, mom call-eth)

[Emily Littleton] Twenty dollars is a lot of money in your early twenties, when the end-of-semester budget leaves most college kids eating Ramen and pretending they like it. Pretending it's a choice, dressing it up with an egg stirred in and calling it added protein like it's healthy. Emily considers the buy in for a long moment, feels the pinch of it in her pocketbook (or seems to). There's a little purse to her mouth, pinched in, thoughtful, and it mirrors the consideration painted across her brow as she sips at her tea and thinks. Thinks.

"You'll have to teach me these games," she says, as if she's never heard of poker or blackjack before. She certainly doesn't like the sound of drinking asshole -- even knowing that -ing's an adjective not a verb. "I'm woefully undereducated in card games."

It's a stall, this. If Kage buys in, and Ashton, then she'll play. If it's a night of polite no thank yous, she doesn't want to get stuck losing her money alone.

[K. R. J.] "Ashes just cleaned me out; if she's willing to put me back into her debt, I'm game," Kage says, like debt was a fluid thing: like it meant nothing. Child of the times, maybe; or perhaps these kinds of debts are toys. They don't matter. A game of cards.

[S. Ashton Winters] "I'll buy us in," she retorts, finally. Debt, so fluid, so easily transferred from place to place, "I'm up for playing... hmmn... Texas Hold 'em's pretty fun with groups."

[Lara Wrathburn] Lara's grin widens as Ashton buys in, which mean's Kage is in, and while it isn't verbalized, mean's that Emily's in as well. Her eyes twinkled as she moved quickly to the kitchen, retrieving four glasses, enough for each of them to drink from when they were going to inevitably lose.

"Alright, bonding time ladies." She says with a chuckle as she put one glass on each side of the table, obviously denoting four different playing points one for each lady."Its always great to establish a new chapter of WDCP.." She says as she lowers herself languidly to the floor with a shiver, why they didn't have carpeting here was beyond her, but whatever.

She looks over at Emily with a friendly wink and a light laugh. "Oh your going to learn...and I promise it won't be too much of the hardway...hopefully." She says teasingly, all in good fun it would seem.

[Emily Littleton] There's a wink; oh yes, cardinal sign of trickery, mischief and thieves. A wink and a smile and then you're in trouble. Emily arches an eyebrow: I see your mischief, I raise you disbelief. She, too, lowers herself to the plane of the floor, pays great attention to the lessons being doled out here. The mysteries revealed; the legerdemain at play.

"I'm a quick study," she says, ever so slightly uncertain of this endeavour. It's not cockiness, no, but an apologetic turn of phrase. "Hopefully that will save me something."

Ah, yes, time to ante up. She sets her tea aside to dig in her messenger bag for something. Her wallet. A crisp, neatly folded twenty is produced from therein, but there are far too many colors living beside it in that purse for the whole of her paper monies to be American.

Emily lays the money down on the table, settles herself, looks a little bookish and uncertain. But not entirely ill at ease. There's a smile, still, on those young features of hers. (Like lambs to the ... [a wolf in sheep's ...]).


[Lara Wrathburn] "If not Em I'm sure we can work out a loan payment program." Lara says with a bat of eyelashes as she draws up to her a sack of coins, full of dollars, quarters, and other options and begins counting out twenty dollars for each woman in various denominations. By the speed of her its obvious she's at least dealt or set up these sort of games many many times.

Emily is handed her money, and then Ashton then Kage, and finally Lara deals money for herself. She leaves the small pile of twenties near Ashton, so as to not seem suspicious about the whole thing. The last little bit of preparation involved filling each of their glasses with a shot worth of tequila.

She looked about at the set up and smiled, and thumped the bottle down on the table top. "I hearby call this session of women playing drunken card games to order." She laughs a little before going to deal out the cards.

[K. R. J.] "What we need is some music. Something slangy, something with slink; some pretty waiters to make certain we're not bothered." Kage raises her eyebrows, a question that isn't quite clear, at Emily. And she says: "You know, Lara. The card game isn't drunken until we've all at least christened it by taking a swig to fortune's favor, and all." Oh, no: Kage, for a moment, her eyes go distant: some memory half-dredged up, something from when she was younger, far more reckless, and watching Guys and Dolls.

[Emily Littleton] "Ah, no, no thank you," she says, sipping again at her tea and just a little wide-eyed at the thought of taking on something as permanent and tangible as a payment plan. There's warmth beneath it, though, and it's canted toward amusement.

Lara thumps the bottle on the table ceremoniously and Emily chuckles a little, despite herself. Kage raises her eyebrows and the other Orphan flirts with momentary confusion. Then there's a slight spread to her smile, warm and fluid, melted butter sliding over -- oh yes, a drink to start them off. She lifts her glass along with the others.

"I may have something appropriate on my iPod," she offers, oh-so-helpfully to Kage. Something singer-songwriter smoky-voiced and bluesy instrumental. Something a little more jazz and a little less rock and roll. Oh yes, there'd be something appropriate.

[Lara Wrathburn] Lara was in the midst of dealing when Kage had made her oh so appropriate suggestion and she finishes dealing, just to ensure that everything is square, it wouldn't be right to pause midway afterall. Once the cards are face down on the table and the women each have their glasses raised Lara pipes up. "Life of Riley girls.." She says before downing her first shot, and then moves to refill each glass in turn, before moving to pick up her cards.

"So what do you all do for fun around here anyways?" She asks as she looks over her cards, starting up casual conversation as she feels the last of the warmth of the tequila slide down her throat, making her smile just a little bit more lazy.

[Emily Littleton] "Fight zombies," Emily says, deadpan, just as everyone else drinks. Then she drinks.

[K. R. J.] "Yeah? Do you think this Mad Men set has a computer hook-up for your ipod?" Kage asks, of Emily. If there is one, she should know about it already, unless it's been recently added; she doesn't act as if she does. And: They drink. Each of them: four girls, four seasons, four suits; four is the number of death, four is a square, a building, a sign. "Now, see - I don't find fighting zombies very fun: something about their hunger for brains, hearts, flesh, things I find it difficult to live without. I don't know, maybe I don't need my brains, not really."

But: Lara wants to know what people do for fun. Really. And Kage, more gentled, says: "Have you met Nathan Spriggs yet?"

[K. R. J.] ooc: You know, strike the 'Spriggs.' I don't know if she knows his last name.

[Emily Littleton] "Well, no, you're right, that's not precisely fun," she says, setting her glass down to be refilled. She says this with a lilt, as if she were recanting somehow on the solemnity of her earlier statment. She's also arranging those coins, bills, whatever into neat stacks, divided by denomination. It's not OCD, it's called being organized. And if she's gonna get tipsy, a little forethought goes a long way!

"We had a cook out for Memorial Day," she says, as if she didn't realize how Leave it to Beaver that sounded. Which Emily likely didn't. "Played some football."

"And yeah, it probably does," she says to Kage, pushes herself up to standing and goes to look for an AUX in adapter. If she finds it (the geek girl does) then Emily's got the right wire in her bag, too.

And there is music! There is booze; there are friends and cards and small talk.

[Lara Wrathburn] Lara blinks and coughs at the mention of zombies, a hand pushed to her lips as she coughs and laughs at the same time. "Seriously? Zombies? You guys are fighting the living dead around here?" She shakes her head and laughs a bit. "Well at least my stay won't be boring.." She comments as she listens to the women talk, about music, about memorial day and some form of cookout, and then finally she registers Kage talking about a man named nathan.

"No I haven't, is he the head honcho around here?" She asks honestly, looking between the women gathered there, looking for their impressions of this man that she obviously should know, otherwise they wouldn't have brought it up. Her cards are kept close to her chest, safe from the prying eyes of her new friends/opponents/marks if shes really lucky.

[K. R. J.] [Now, Kage...]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Emily Littleton] ((Now that's an interesting thought ... ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[K. R. J.] Seriously, Lara Wants to know, Zombies? And Kage, well; her gaze takes on a grave cadence, something shaded. She doesn't ask Lara if she Felt It when the bridge fell, but she thinks the question.

"No," she says, after she glances down at her own hand. No, because Nathan is not Head Honcho; no indeed. Her voice is even; easy. "He's just your Tradition mate; he's been in the city for a little while now. Owns a bar. I like to call him T.H. He's all over the place."

[Emily Littleton] Kage is fielding this question, so the other Orphan has a chance to pick up her hand, examine the cards, imagine what might separate a good hand from a bad one. It's a guess, of course, as she doesn't know how to play.

Looking down at her cards is an excellent cover for the thoughts that cross her mind at the suggestion that Nathan is in charge. Or the head anything. Or, you know, a point of authority. Oh look, a two. Are twos good? Are two twos good? Hmmm. She glances up over her cards and chimes in, "But he usually shows to meetings, so you'll meet him sooner or later."

Smile.

[Lara Wrathburn] [Per+Emp, whats going on here...whats this about a cultist?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Emily Littleton] ((Manip + Subterfuge: Awesome. Cards have red and black shapes on them, and numbers. I like numbers. What about Nathan?))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[K. R. J.] [Nothin' to see here. >.> Same.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 5, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Lara Wrathburn] Lara looks from Emily to Kage, as they're the ones currently taking to her, Ashton seems occupied, or at the very least, intent on her cards. She glances around reading faces, a friendly smile on her own, though her eyes betray a sly demeanor, but she reads nothing, nothing about the cards or her fellow cultist.

"Ok well what does T.H mean? and more importantly, how all over the place is all over the place?" She asks as she runs a finger over the edge of her glass, still looking at her hand. She then looks to Emily, as she was sitting to the left and nodded slightly. "Ok Em, heres how we do this, your to my left, so you get to make the first bet, we go around in a circle till we've all bet, and then I will deal out three more cards, basically you wanna combine what you have in your hand there...with whatever is put down on the table to make a good hand..ok?"

She says it slowly, she really isn't trying to confuse the girl, and then she remembers something and reaches inside the box the cards came in and pulled out one more card. "Here...for the beginner, on the house." She slid a small card over to Em which displayed all the different winning hands, in descending order from the best...to the worst.

[K. R. J.] [Perception+Awareness-as-Empathy, Do You Really Think Emily Is Innocent, Lara?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Lara Wrathburn] [Manip+Subt Maybe...maybe not]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 6, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Emily Littleton] "Oooookay," she says, drawing the first syllable out thoughtfully. Emily chews on the corner of her lip for a moment, seemingly distracted by considering her hand. When Lara hands over the cheat sheet of rules she is, genuinely, appreciative.

"Oh! Cheers. This will help," she says, eyeing the card carefully and comparing it to her hand. "Okay, is there a limit of how low you can bid first?" She doesn't say open or ante or any other card-words. "Could I start with, say, a quarter?"

So, not an excellent hand, or a conservative player.

[K. R. J.] "All over the place," Kage says, a pause: then: "He's often in the thick of it. And when he's not, well, he's a thickening agent, sometimes in spite of himself, I'd say." She also eyes the other red-haired woman closely, consideringly: does she really think Emily doesn't know how to? Kage, she doesn't seem to be paying much attention to her cards; she looked at them once. Once is enough.

[K. R. J.] [An academic test. Kahseeno, you are a JERK.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7 (Failure at target 6)

[K. R. J.] [Kahseeno, I really love you. I love the way your numbers are so number-y.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 7, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[S. Ashton Winters] "No... no, she does that... yes I'm sure.... Of course I'm sure, I'm her mother... tell her mommy said no.... no, tell her mommy said... put her on the phone" she says.

Ashton had excused herself, briefly. She's pacing the living room, off on her own little tirade. She sighs, and the next things out of her mouth are... not.... in English. Not at all. Not even close to English.

[Owen] [Am I making noise coming up the stairs?]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Lara Wrathburn] "A thickening agent....right. You make sound like hes about as smart as molasses and just as fast." She says with a slight giggle before looking over to Emily, if she thought Emily was that innocent, or that simple, it doesn't show, but then nothing shows other then that slightly devious smile and that sparkle in those bright green eyes.

"We'll set the minimum bet at a quarter sure." She says as she shifts her position so that shes now sitting on her thighs, her legs out from under her body as she sits up a little straighter.

She spares a glance over to Ashton, and doesn't have a clue whats shes saying, she cocks a brow wondering before shrugging and turning away, it had something to do with...children.

[Emily Littleton] Kage and Lara are talking about Nathan, which doesn't hold Emily's attention very well. It's like holding water in a sieve. Slips right through. What were you saying? Oh, Nathan. Slips right through again. Can't hold; won't hold. She tries not to listen too carefully, at least, because it usually ends with her grinding her teeth.

Which means the other likely place for her attention to fall is on the pacing Winters, the mommy-over-the-telephone-line act. Emily had been on the receiving end of this game, as a child, too many times to count. Emily's mother had not been like Ashton. If she had, well, then little Ms. Littleton would have been far far better behaved.

She winces at the words: put her on the phone. At the non-English that follows. That, too, is familiar in function if not form.

So back to her cards, back to the giggle and assumptions (or not) of her innocence and simpleness. In truth, she was simple. Emily was horribly simple. Everything about her was simple. It was the layering of all those simple things, the way they built up into something more, that was the complication, but nothing about her was inherently intricate.

"A quarter then," she says, sliding it out across the table. She really isn't certain about this, at all, and it shows, but it's a start. A quarter. Just a start. And maybe, this time, this sort of social gathering would prove to be a good idea. Or not calamitous. No calamity would be an improvement.

[K. R. J.] [Skip me, yo! Kage is, uh, a not-so-cagy player, so do with that as you will. *grin*]

[S. Ashton Winters] Aahton Winters came back to the table after a long conversation. She plops herself down to go sit. She's dealt in. Each hand, as it seems, is a quarter. The rather unremarkable, but athletic woman sits crosslegged at the table. She's a tequila fiend. She's a lot of things, and for now? She watches this hand.

The woman looks comfortable, says nothing, and watches.

[K. R. J.] [And with that, I gotta run! Uhmuhmuhm. I give Kage NPC-rights to Em. Have her lose like whoa! then take a call. was fun playing with y'all!]