Sunshine

[Nathan Spriggs] A dull afternoon in Chicago, much the same as every other day before it. People passing to-and-fro, going on with their lives. Even in this particular part of Chinatown, the hustle and bustle was all in the people that crowded the many restaurants on the streets.

Meanwhile, in his own quiet corner of a bench, a blond man by the name of Nathan, good-looking and yet oddly indistinct as he was, watched the streets. He wasn't reading today or doing any other actual activity by himself there, simply staring out into the crowds, people-watching.

Pensive, in his own little world. Even the usual atmosphere around him, on-guard and twitchy as it was, seemed barely there. Replaced by a different, sullen kind of feeling. Like someone brooding over something.

[K. R. Jakes] [Do I know you're around?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] The (now) Disciple can feel Nathan before she sees him. He's there: a subtle, manipulative tugging at the edge of her perceptions; easy to miss, to ignore, to say somebody walked over my grave or somebody said my name or somewhere, a star fell or somewhere, a moth was quenched by a candleflame. Easy to say, ah, somewhere: someone's lighting a cigarette. It's a small thing, but it's there: a distinct feeling.

And Kage pauses, across the street from Nathan, just coming around the corner of a dark antique shop, all covered windows, all heavy rosewood furniture, furniture it'd take a giant to move, furniture maybe a giant [or some slave-boys in the dead of the night] had to break his back setting up, and she's pausing. The light touches her red hair; half her face. Puts her in shadow, luminous. Kage is always composed, assured, and she sure looks composed, assured, as she takes a moment to take stock, to look around until:

Nathan Spriggs, on a bench, staring at the crowd. She doesn't try to sneak up on him. She doesn't continue on her way down the street, either, though. She looks at him for a second, and then, slipping her thumbs through the belt-loops of her jeans, laptop bag thudding against her knee, the side of her thigh, she walks across the street when the crowds part, weaves through, and walks over to his bench. Direct-like, so there can be mistake.

"Hey, T.H. - " she says, lets it hang in the air like she's going to say something else. Whatever that something else is, though, that'll wait until acknowledgment happens: with a gun or not. Nathan Spriggs: be prepared for any greeting.

[Nathan Spriggs] A woman, 5'6, he guessed, black hair, average face, German descent maybe? Or was that more Swedish? His eyes followed her through the crowd as she stepped on by, probably on her way home from work given the briefcase in her right hand and the purse that hung from her left shoulder.

It amuses him this game, takes his mind off everything, watching random people go by. People he doesn't know, will never know. Trying to figure out, to divine, their personal lives from what he could see with the naked eye.

Then suddenly, a face comes into his line of sight, familiar. Unmistakable red hair, familiar face. He sees her before he feels her, an uncommon occurrence. Brings his mind to a realization, to how off he must be. Too deep in his own thoughts to pay attention at the surrounding.

When he speaks, it's slow, methodical, like measuring his own words. Weighing them, though it has a friendly enough undertone to it, casual at least. The two know each other after all. "Hey... what brings you around these parts?"

[K. R. Jakes] "Two feet," she says, "A truck, and a nose for good Chinese. But I'm here -" and her thumbs stay, looped through the belt-loops of her jeans, and her glance strays from Nathan for a moment, takes in the crowd, the flow of people, the murmur of conversation, the conversation between cars, between music played in different restaurants, city noises, before returning, steady, steadying. Kage doesn't know Nathan well. Maybe that's why she thinks he seems offkilter, a little too blank. Has he blinked yet? " - at this bench because you shine like the sun, darling, and the clouds are thick." A beat. And then: "What's wrong? You're not your usual jumpy self."

[Nathan Spriggs] A quirk of the eyebrow, amusement at her response. It's gone quickly, as his palms press against his hips, feet pushing forward to get him off the bench and on his feet. A glance, out the corner of his eye, to a nearby restaurant he knew to be good. "In that case, mind terribly if I invite?" A finger pointed in the direction, maybe something was off after all. Him inviting someone to dinner out of the blue?

"Assuming of course, shining like the sun was a compliment and not mockery?" A smile there, covering up whatever outward signs he had of something troubling him. Still not quite back on the ball though, not quite as twitchy. Which was good, arguably?

[K. R. Jakes] There, a moment of amusement; fleeting, maybe, but still - amusement. Maybe that's what the Orphan wanted. Her mouth quirks slightly [a shadow, unpromised]. "No," she says, seriously: "Wouldn't make mock of the sun as long as it was shining naturally." A beat, and then, "You're blonde," as though that explains it. "Doesn't look like a bottlejob."

He points over at some restaurant and Kage doesn't glance in that direction. Her eyes strayed once; she's just a quietly watchful thing, now. Listening, sure. Aware of her surroundings, of course. Shit has been hitting the fan [...no idea]. She'd really not like to be mistaken for the fan, see?

"And it's difficult to refuse an invitation; lead on, MacDuff." Kage'll step back; give him space to stand.

[Nathan Spriggs] For a moment, he goes quiet, pensive again. Then a smile, amused again with a hint of mock pain behind it. "Ah, so you did insult me after all. Haven't you ever heard it's rude to call someone a natural blonde? True as it might be," a shake of his head, "You should be sensitive to people's conditions. In any case, follow me."

With that, he set off in the restaurant's direction, pace slow though the distance to it was short. Maybe he just wanted to enjoy the conversation before they got there.

[K. R. Jakes] [*squint* What's up with you, Nathan? Whyyoushufflin'likeanoldman? Per+Aware-as-Empathy?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
to†K. R. Jakes

[K. R. Jakes] "Gee, I'm sorry," she says, dryly. "Didn't know it was a condition that caused you great pain. Won't happen again." This is easy, see: banter, back-and-forth; it's easy, and it doesn't take great thought. Doesn't take a lot out of her. Doesn't take a lot out of Nathan [as far as she knows].

He stands up. He sets off in the restaurant's direction. Kage isn't a very tall woman, but her shoes help; she doesn't take small steps, and he's moving slow, so there's no trouble staying by his side. She adjusts the strap of her laptop case so it doesn't pull so [weighing me down (stones in the mouth to the river it is wild)] on her shoulder, switches it from the one to the other.

"But you know what," she says, after a beat. "Count your blessings. You get called a natural blonde, shining like the sun; I get carrots. The root vegetable turns your skin the color of a Bert. Earnie? That orange puppet."

[Nathan Spriggs] She sees him, watches him go, off on a slow trot. Maybe for a moment, she can understand that amongst the many things on his mind, something is nagging at him. Even as they trade back-and-forth, a side of him is still deep in thought. Maybe troubled? Hard to tell, she couldn't quite read that much. But he was always troubled, wasn't he?

As she comes back up to his side, the Cultist's eyes shift slowly over to her direction, watching her from the corner of his eye. A small chuckle escaping his lips at her reference.

"Bert, yeah. Though wouldn't ginger be more appropriate? What with carrots being orange and all," he says, hands slowly sliding into the coat pockets as they walk. "So what're you up to these days? Making puzzles for the newspaper using your talents at being cryptic? I still don't know what T.H. means."

[K. R. Jakes] "Hey," she says, to shouldn't it be Ginger instead of Carrots. "I don't read the kids on the playground their lines, I just listen." The truth, though: Kage-as-a-child had red hair, much lighter; more the edge-of-a-candleflame than this, this heart's blood red, this fox-pelt red thing she has now. Distinct.

"And all it means is you have a nickname," Kage replies, when Nathan says he still doesn't know what T.H. means. "What that nickname means, well. When you're in a tight spot, just think: I don't know what T.H. stands for, and let it give you inner strength or something." This is casual; a joke, or at least half-a-joke. Her voice is clear, cool-smoke; touched with thoughtfulness.

He's asking what she's been up to. "Hm," she says, like it's a difficult proposition to render into words. Since she last saw Nathan, Tuesday morning, Monday night, things have changed. "No. I'm not making puzzles for the newspaper. I've been trying to unravel some puzzles, though. What have you been up to, Nathan? And what's your favourite color food?"

[Nathan Spriggs] How thoughtful of her, looking out for him and giving him strength. His own personal Jesus, 'T.H' ? A shrug there at the thought, a small moment of laughter for no one but himself. A pause though, as she seems to think seriously on his question, only to evade it completely in the end.

"The usual, thinking about the world, about life, the poor little kids dying in Africa?" A joking tone there, overly exaggerated, "What we do, our lives! I'm such a great guy, aren't I?" More of the same there, and yet for a moment, just a moment, his tone carried a smidge of seriousness to it when he spoke of 'what they do'. Like it was purposefully hidden amongst the words.

"As for food, the color would be red. Funny, no? Red hair, red meat. Mmmm, delicious."

[K. R. Jakes] [*squint* NO REALLY.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]

[K. R. Jakes] He thinks that she evaded his question and she thinks that she answered it. This is how miscommunications occur. This is how people wind up pointing fingers at one another. This is how the world ends: not with a bang, with a whimper. What we do, our lives, Nathan says, like he's Harlequinn, like he's the Devil, like he's the Clown: the Fool. Kage considers him. Red hair, he says, Red meat: mm, delicious. The Orphan raises both eyebrows, and gives Nathan a (troubled [tarnished]) look. Lifts a hand to twist her hair, very deliberately, over the shoulder that is not near Nathan.

Says, "I can't tell if you're saying that's what you've been up to or that what I've been up to or that's what we have Mutually Together Not At All Been Up To. So I'll say this: I was kind of trying to unravel some more localized puzzles, you know? Like: what the fuck's going on?"

"This the place with the food? All the red you can eat." Kage is ready to step in front of Nathan and open the door for him, gentlemanly-like, see?

[Nathan Spriggs] Silence there, no witty retort, no back-and-forth this time. Just silence. Thoughtful. She could understand it in his words, what meaning he hid there. Something about 'what we do', that was what troubled him. Their lives. Where exactly was it they were going? What exactly was it they really did. They, the Awakened of course. Or maybe humans?

Finally, as she opens the door to him, he shook his head and smiled, a smile that seemed to say 'thanks, but no thanks'. "Y'know what they say, 'ladies first'. I'd prefer not to enter first and leave someone to decipher the meaning behind it?" A joke again, maybe he was back to what was normal for his current state. He'd wait until she entered before entering.

[K. R. Jakes] That wasn't one of Nathan's best. Kage gives it the smile it deserves. Which is to say, no smile. Just the impression of one, a hint of courtesy, a nice try sort've curve of her mouth. "Can't have that," she says, and she'll precede the blond Cultist of Ecstasy into the restaurant.

Maybe she's just quiet because she's trying to think of what to do with this moment of insight into Nathan Spriggs' state of mind. Doesn't say anything else, and if Nathan indicates that they should go sit at table X or booth Y or table A or booth C or at some mysterious hole in the very back of the restaurant, she'll go along with that. Flow.

[Nathan Spriggs] Lead them to a table he did, one near a corner, not quite a window seat but not so far off it. Not one of his best selection as far as look-out spots went. But he wasn't looking for that tonight, just food. Once they were seated, he studied the menu for a while. Still with the silence, still pensive.

Finally, "Did you hear?" A pause, skipped a beat. Uncomfortable. Hesitant. "About the club I mean?"

[K. R. Jakes] "No," she says, and she hasn't yet revisited the White Fence House [chantry, beacon (sanctuary, sacred)] yet, so she has not seen notes, notes that'd give her a hint, a clue, into what Nathan means.

This place serves what all Chinese restaurants in Chinatown serve. Kage studies it for a moment, too. She has put one elbow on the table. Her jaw is a delicate line; she cants her head, and rests it against her fingers, curled inward, a fist.

"What did it do to you?" - she asks that, like when he says club, he means the physical weapon, something another something can hold, can wield, can swing toward a kneecap. It's just nuance. She knows what sort've club he means. There was a pause, too, before she asked.

When a waitress approaches, Kage asks for tea, then soup, fried rice, wontons.

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan was visibly startled by the revelation for just an instant, a fleeting moment. He figured she might have heard from Ashley, or someone else. Seen something on it. But no, it was a personal matter for Ashley. For all of them. So maybe it was natural.

Silence for a while, the Cultist flips through the menu, looking preoccupied, as though it really was more interesting and important than continuing this conversation. When he finally picks something, it was dumplings and hot tea. He wasn't really all that hungry now.

A glance back to Kage, eyes meeting her for a split-second before shifting back to the table. But someone had to tell her, even if only part.

"We... were invited. Myself, Father Ward, Ashley, Emily, Owen and Atlas. To a club, a strip club inside of an old Gothic church. A... fuckin' demon," he stopped there, hesitation again. The way he said it, he meant a genuine honest-to-god demon. "Possessing a man, spoke to us, told us a story. Offered 'Ascension' to us. Asked us to follow it, down to this... chamber."

He cut off there, shaking his head. It wasn't he was afraid of the memories, it was something else. Recalling events, the sights themselves hadn't been traumatizing to him. Their failures, on the other hand. Inability to stop it, powerlessness. "Held hostages, innocent people. Strangers, but also a loved one of Ashley, and one of Solomon. Strangers in a compartment with killer insect swarms, loved ones in tanks of water that were filling up. He disappeared before entering it, left us to some human woman. Offered a trade, a Geas in exchange for the lives, either the strangers or the loved ones. That we wouldn't touch her master, wouldn't try to stop him."

The more he talked about it, the easier it rolled out. He'd been an outside observer involved in it after all, not under the limelight. But he couldn't say who the loved one was, that was Ashley's place. "Solomon lost his shit, shot her. The guards, three Awakened, went after us. Two, they had imbued ammo, it was a mess. Solomon went down quick after he got a shot into one of the guards shooting, but we had healing charms, so he healed, and he kept fighting. I shot the injured guard in the head and dropped him, Ashley stopped the swarm, but not the unarmed guard from filling the water tanks with magic.

"Another one was shooting at us meanwhile, injured Solomon some more, injured Ashley, Em shot at the one working magic. Killed him. Meanwhile, Owen tackled the other shooter, but he dodged... Then Owen went running another way for something, not sure where. Atlas was nowhere to be seen for a while, I don't know what happened. I shot the shooter, injured him but didn't kill him. Owen came back, punched the shooter again while I shot at him too, I accidentally hit Owen though he was mostly fine..."

A sigh there, closing his eyes as though dreading this last part, "Solomon killed the last guard, I'm not sure what he did. All I saw was a blast of fire. Atlas and the others used a charm he'd made and destroyed the water tanks. But... it was too late. They were dead." There was more to the story left, Kage would be able to tell as much, but Nathan stopped there, for now at least.

[Nathan Spriggs] (Tried to sum it up from memory so edit Kage's understanding to fit the transcripts if you read 'em off my blog. Nathan wouldn't make a mistake on the facts.)
to†K. R. Jakes

[K. R. Jakes] [How disturbed do I look?]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] He looks startled by the revelation: she doesn't already know. Later, or if it was another story coming hard on the heels of that look, Kage would look amused. Apologize, maybe. And he makes his order, shoulders rounded, meets her eyes, looks down in a way that makes the waitress think maybe she's going to be tactful, but keep an eye out, maybe he was cheating on her, maybe they're engaged, maybe he is firing her, maybe - well. Her imagination may not be creative, but it certainly is long, and she'll spend some time trying to figure it out.

For her part, Kage leans forward, hand tucked at the crook of her shoulder and neck, now, under her hair, in the shadows of it [fire, shadows, same thing..] and listens. Makes a comment or two. Like this.

- spoke to us, told us a story, offered ascension to us, asked it to follow us down -

"Typical," she says. Scornful. Disdainful. None of this is directed toward Nathan or the other Awakened members of the community loosely forming around the White Fence House. Her voice is low. "Breaking a promise before it's even a done deal. Offering an ascent, but giving you a descent."

- two, they had imbued ammo, it was a mess -

" - Hell - "

The rest just gets silece. Just: clear, careful attention. Would be a lie to say the red-haired Orphan isn't disturbed. And Kage, well: she doesn't often lie, not directly, and she looks disturbed, more: concerned. This tarnishes up her eyes, all right; touches the lines of her face, gives her an air of gravity, of stillness.

The silence will stretch, too. Until Nathan breaks it again.

[Nathan Spriggs] The silences stretches on and on for several minutes, but the Cultist knows it's not to last. He doesn't want it to, the silence makes his mind wander to the situation again. Too much they could have done, too many regrets. The scenario, it replays on and on in his mind. Like a broken movie.

Makes him reminisce of the first time he met the red-haired Orphan in fact. To another nightmarish event. It's this thought that makes him break the silence.

ìReminds me of our first meeting, this silence...î A musing, not lighthearted enough to be called amusing but still, a form of dark humor to it.

[K. R. Jakes] "Do you think," Kage begins-to-say, then pauses; she'd started to speak at the same time Nathan finally did. The waitress has brought the soup, the tea. Maybe the dumplings for Nathan. Kage watches the steam unfold, blossom, out've the low palm-sized cup. Jasmine. A delicate thing, but hot. "Yeah?" Her mouth quirks. "Those were good times," she says, deadpan: dry. "I can remember them like they were yesterday. The light: it was different then - you know, golder. Sort've 'old home movies.' Ah, for yesterday." A beat. And, "Sorry."

[Nathan Spriggs] A snort-laugh, almost choking on his tea as he sipped it. Something about it got a small smile back on his face. Once he cleared his throat and maybe wiped some tears from his eyes due to the burns from the hot tea, he took another sip.

"If we're talking in comparisons? They were golden days." He says, before taking a bite of one of the dumplings after soaking them in soy sauce a bit. But then he's back to staring at the surface of the tea, almost absent-minded, deep in thought. "Why does it seem like every success we get, there's two more failures waiting right behind it? So much bad stuff happens when we fuck up, people die when we fuck up. And yet we fuck up so damn much." The thought that had been nagging at him came out at least.

[K. R. Jakes] Those were the golden days, Nathan says, and Kage doesn't have a quip at ready; not before he begins to talk again, anyway. Maybe because she is thinking. About Ashley. About Emily. About Solomon, who she's spoken to once. About Owen, Atlas. About Ashley, and her loved one, dead, and who it could be. At any rate, she shakes the contemplation [calcifying, a cage] off to listen when Nathan says, Why does it seem, and yet. Her eyebrows draw together.

"I don't know," she says. "Why does it seem like that to you? You don't think you're doing enough?" A beat. And, "Bad stuff happens with out the fuck-uppery of anyone we know involved. People die without it, too."

[Nathan Spriggs] He watches her for a moment. Maybe he expected a joke, a retort, a mock. Whatever it was, it didn't come, and he was glad for it at this particular moment. Much as he enjoyed not having his every word measured too seriously (far as he knew) by this woman.

"Oh, I don't mean it that way. We're not God, much as Hermetics might believe we can become one. People die for a myriad of reasons. Yet when it does happen, when we do have a hand, a say, in what'll go down..." he speaks, closing his eyes as he reminisces, things he'd rather forget. Memories that stick around and haunt him. Failures to act in time, wrong choices. "Well... I've seen my fair share of people die, far too many. Innocent people, not-so innocent ones, bystanders, people involved. In the end, death's death, right? Once you're a corpse, it's just another dead body, no good or evil involved. Of course, I'm not saying we should be saints either..."

[K. R. Jakes] He says he's seen his share of corpses. Kage doesn't pipe up to say, Me too, or Oh dear, really? Doesn't give any indication one or another, as far as her personal experience goes. Maybe she's never seen somebody die; we should all be so lucky. The Orphan itches at the skin under her collar-bone, curls her fingers against her heart, listening to Nathan speak.

"Then what are you saying you should be?" A pause. And: "I mean, tell me this. Did you make a pact of inaction with a devil? Did you compromise your principles? Did you sign the city, the soul, the spirit, whatever - over to an enemy? Did you agree to a liar's lie?" A beat. "I mean. What I'm saying is, ultimately - it doesn't sound like you fucked up. Except for that part where you shot Owen. Did you - what happened to the others?"

[Nathan Spriggs] Kage speaks and Nathan sits up straight, he doesn't reply instantly as she begins. Choosing to listen carefully, mulling it over. Considering it. When she's done, asking him what happened, he merely shook his head in a quiet 'no'.

He doesn't tell her of the Effect, of the fact he'd known what was in that room seconds before they actually entered, expected the danger and death that awaited, had time to prepare but chose not to warn the others except one. The story of the interrogation of the woman called Ophelia. He doesn't speak of any of that, he can't.

"No, you're right. Yet I can't help but feel like there was more we could've done, y'know? I know it's silly." He spoke, finally responding with words before leaning back and sighing, a small release of tension from his shoulders following the action. "What do you mean what happened to the others? The strangers? They were hurt but they survive, ran away from us shortly after. But that's to be expected with what they saw."

[K. R. Jakes] He says the strangers and Kage nods once. Her eyebrows are lifted; she sits up, too. Takes a sip of her tea, finally. Blows on it first: a gentle, gentled thing. Holds it carefully. He says they survived. They ran away, like it's a side note, and she takes this in, accepts it. "Isn't silly," Kage says.

[Ritae] Wits + Rituals! Cleansing water!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7) [WP]
to†K. R. Jakes

[Ritae] Cleansing birdseed!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]
to†K. R. Jakes

[K. R. Jakes] [Witnessed!]
to†Ritae

[Nathan Spriggs] His left hand slowly bringing the tea to his lips once more, Nathan sipped quietly, pensive again. It seemed to be his standard reaction at the moment. It was after a few sips that he finally spoke. "In any case, sorry for springing my mopping on you like this." That's all he said for now, a quiet apology of sorts. Not his usual self, tonight.

[K. R. Jakes] "Don't be," she says, mouth quirking. "Sometimes saying stuff outloud helps people figure things out. Decide on a next time." Helpful, Kage. "And I did say hello." Now, rice. Chopsticks, poetry: an easy thing, breaking them in two like a wish-bone. "Did the guards die; and the woman?" It's an odd question to ask: did they guards die, the woman. But Nathan said they were shot, except for the one Emily killed. Emily, of all people, killing guards -- it's difficult to imagine [not at all difficult (Awakening changes people)]. "Last morbid question," she adds. "Food's too good to season with shit."

[K. R. Jakes] Nathan Spriggs apologizes for moping, for springing it on her, like it was some kind've trap, like ker-splat! crack, the gate crashed down, O noes, Here is Moping, Moping is the Predator. Kage, still inclined to be serious, to be mindful of the horrors recently visited, says: "Don't let it trouble your sleep," and then, faint smirk; sardonic, radiant -- it has no bite. "Moping? I didn't see any moping." Like she's quoting a movie; she isn't. It's just got that kind of sound: why no, copper, never saw the one-eyed man with the stolen cop car, leaning out the window, laughing. Mum's the word. Got nothing to say.

" - sometimes," she adds, low, "saying a thing aloud helps figure it out, anyway." A pause, a beat. And: "Out of curiosity, when did you get the invites? An hour before the party, a day? Three?"

[Nathan Spriggs] He readjusts his position, searching for a more comfortable spot there in the cushions. Maybe it was his imagination and the discomfort was all in his mind as no position seemed to help. In the end, his efforts ended, attention turning back on full to the Orphan. No moping she says, he doesn't point out otherwise. The line, however, does get a grin for a moment, as the Cultist tries to readjust his seating yet again.

"Hm, it was about a day? Day before? The invitation itself was for the 19th." He spoke, trying to bring back that particular recollection. He knew this one, he did. But the chronology was a bit foggy given the events that occurred. "Why do you ask?"

[K. R. Jakes] "Did you -- " A pause. Kage stares at Nathan. Then: "You need to use the little boy's room, T.H.?"

[Nathan Spriggs] "Nope, this seat's just so damn uncomfortable." Instant this, without skipping a beat, right as the words finish leaving her mouth.

[K. R. Jakes] [Oh really? You know the roll.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] Kage's eyebrows flick upwards. [Oh really.] He's quick-on-the-draw, he's telling the truth, and there's more behind the truth than he's telling, and his shifting, his discomfort, that's just the shadow of it. Kage is good at seeing shadows; never has been afraid of the dark [that's a lie (there was a brief period [nightmares])]. Good at noting their movement, at un-spooling their nuances. Her mouth stays quirked, a gentle curve, a shadowed thing itself; not sardonic, not radiant. Just easy.

"Poor guy," she says. And then: "Did you do any leg-work on the club before you went in? Or did you all just -- go in? At the appointed time?"

[Nathan Spriggs] Oof, sympathy. He shrinks back for a moment, back to his original position. No discomfort at all, no siree. No need for sympathy here, that was for someone else. A moment of quiet thought, a shake of his head, that's all the answer she gets for a moment as he digs back into his dumplings.

Then he's back to the conversation. "No time, and I was a bit hesitant to go it alone. Not sure about the others though, pretty sure they didn't given the shared reaction at finding out it was a strip club built inside an old church." That answered that, it was a night of unpleasant surprises.

[K. R. Jakes] [Contain Your Surprise, Kage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Nathan Spriggs] [Surprise? What surprise?! Perc + Awareness]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] The Cultist of Ecstasy shrinks from the intimation of sympathy and, hey, maybe Kage is sympathetic. Sure she is; pain is no fun; she doesn't wish people hurt. But he answers her question and, for an instant, for a second, Kage is wordless. At a total loss. Blank. Doesn't blink, but that's just because Kage is strong-willed, a creature of composure, contained grace: like that.

A beat. Another. Then: "No time?" An echo. Another beat. Then: she exhales. "Jesus," she says, and, "Did you guys meet-up beforehand and discuss how you were going to play it, at least?"

[Nathan Spriggs] He senses it, detects it. Not completely off his game after all, this one. But he's too busy in that particular kind of self-loathing that comes only from realizing what a huge fuck-up you'd made, from looking at it in retrospect. Too busy to make a comment on it, mutter an excuse maybe, nope they fucked up. Plain and simple. "Remember that one meeting you attended? That... uh... was roughly the only actually organized meeting we had short of like ten minutes before we stepped inside the place?"

An admission there, sad as it was. Though he and the priest had indeed done some planning on the side before going, he didn't deem it necessary to mention. "We all walked in there with active Mind shielding in case something tried... y'know, possessions, and some charms distributed before that. Healing mostly. But that's it. I used some Time scrying too, but that's too complex to explain if you don't understand the workings of the Sphere."

[K. R. Jakes] Kage isn't trying to make Nathan feel bad. Doesn't need to try, apparently, or after all. Earlier, he'd said that he just (a moment of honesty, a split-second) was tired of two failures for every success, for people dying when they fuck up, for fucking up. But Kage is also, when she isn't in a situation where she reacts instinctually, intuitively, a planner, someone who thinks ahead. Maybe it's because she's an Orphan, or maybe it's because she's naturally distrustful. At the meeting, she'd said: what about an offensive? And now: no leg-work? Kage: she's smart [about some things (some times)], and that thoughtfulness comes out.

Does she remember that one meeting. Uh. Kage inhales, slowly. Short of ten minutes before we stepped inside, he says. And Kage exhales, also slowly. "That's something," she says, to his recitation of what they did do: the charms, the Mind shields, his Time scrying too complex for little peon minds to comprehend.

[Nathan Spriggs] "No, it's really not. Maybe if we hadn't been standing outside, oblivious to the location, it'd count. On this one though? This was just what it seems, a fuck up. In any case, what's done is done. Crying over spilt milk won't fix it." He spoke with a bitter edge to it, angry that they'd made such an obvious mistake. Too busy freaking out about the end of the world to pay attention to what they're doing.

Left hand silently sliding off the table, unconsciously massaging the spot where he'd been shot, where bandages now covered it up. "Right now we're scrambling to figure out how to deal with this thing. It's strong... too strong, I think, for the usual methods. Make me wonder if we really can stop it. But if it wanted to Geas us not to try, that means there's something there, hidden, that could give us the upper hand. Just gotta find what, right?"

[K. R. Jakes] " - it's something," Kage repeats, an echo of herself, after Nathan disavows it: no, it's really not. Fuck up. He's saying it again. Kage is listening, studious; a student. Then Kage is saying this: "I follow that logic." Maybe this horrifies her; maybe it doesn't. "You glean anything that might point-you-towards from this bloody night?" Kage: steady, steadying, direct. "What did you do afterward?"

[Nathan Spriggs] "Interrogated the woman Solomon shot. One who offered the Geas in exchange for release." When he says that, there's an undertone there. Like the memory of whatever happened left a bitter taste on his tongue. What or why, he didn't elaborate. Didn't want to elaborate.

"In any case, it's searching for something. We learned that much, the 'Twilight Star', no idea if it's related to Anthelios as I found or some kind of gem or stone. But it's searching, and apparently close to finding it. Had a map of the city too, locations marked on it, though we don't know where or what." All of it information he'd already shared in a note at the Chantry. But if she didn't know of this, she might not have checked, or maybe just not been to the Chantry in the first place.

[Nathan Spriggs] (In his mouth, not 'on his tongue'*. Man, I'm getting sleepy)

[K. R. Jakes] "Yeah?" she says, attention back on Nathan. She handles the chopsticks gracefully, with skill. "You find anything else out from the girl?" And pause, brief - "Is she dead?"

[Nathan Spriggs] "She's dead." He speaks plainly, a definitive answer, as though he doesn't want to talk anymore about it. Maybe he wanted to say it wasn't them, give an excuse, but she was dead and he doesn't. "And not really."

[Don't fail me now, Kahseeno! Manip + Subterfuge]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[K. R. Jakes] [Really? *squint*]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] Kage is naturally distrustful. Or, rather -- when she trusts someone, it's usually that she trusts them to behave a certain way. Right now, although she is clear-sighted, although she is studious, although she may wonder at herself later, she is, right now, trusting Nathan. Maybe she thinks that he just didn't ask the right questions. Considering. Maybe she just can't imagine why he'd lie. Maybe she even thinks it's none of her business.

"Hunh," she says. And then, "You haven't touched your food, sunshine. Dig in. S'good for sharpening the mind."

[Nathan Spriggs] He leans back on the chair, eyes wandering up for a fleeting moment. A thought, and then he's back down to Earth. Back down to staring at the red-haired Orphan. "Yeah, I'll get to it in a moment. We should get together and discuss that whole library thing at last one of these days too. Maybe we can cross-reference for info on this thing." He speaks, chopsticks picked back up as he picks apart another dumpling and eats it slowly.

"I'll call you if anything new crops up? I've got a lead of sorts, but since it's kinda uncertain, I didn't wanna mention it." That's as much as he's willing to give on anything else that's left behind from the conversation moments ago. And even then, separate. Different, unrelated.

[K. R. Jakes] "That's true," she says, in response to the library, exchange-of, cross-reference remark. And then, he's mentioning a lead, something uncertain, calling, and both of her eyebrows raise again -- a thing of elegance, that. Of poise. And then: "Tease. Yeah: call me if anything new crops up." A beat. "Say, a mysterious letter you're wondering how to reply to with the proper etiquette. Can I snag one of your dumplings? Here; have some of these noodles."

And thus, and then, the two Mages will subside into polite [courteous] conversation, nothing Meaningful at all.

Like normal people.

[Nathan Spriggs] "Nope, mine." With that, he snags back the dumpling she might have her eye on and eats in one bite. "You can have this one though." A finger pointed at the smallest of the lot, almost abnormally so.

[K. R. Jakes] "You're all heart, T. H.!"

Tiny dumpling: speared.
Noodles: slopped. A generous portion.

[Nathan Spriggs] And so as they talk, maybe, just maybe, the First War for Chinese Food will continue to be waged by the brave men and women of the Chantry.