Should I stand amid the breakers?

[Kage Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[?]

[Kage Jakes]
The amount of time Kage finds herself in monasteries, churches, burying grounds, cathedrals and museums is surprisingly frequent. After Saturday, she did not find God and go to church, she did not pray any more than usual, and she did not feel connected to Fate, to a greater whole, she did not feel moth to flame Orphan to Faith. (Hers is the radiant flame, no? Faith to Orphan, flame to moth.)

It's Thursday afternoon, and Kage parks her (monstrous [draconic]) black pick-up outside the black gates which enclose Lake View's Presbyterian church, and jumps (she has to [it's a big car, she's a little lady]) to the ground, regarding it without trepidation. When she wanders to the front door, that door is locked. It's Thursday, and there are no services planned, no bible studies meant to be had, but there should be a woman named Dorothea Amherst inside cleaning, and that's who Kage has come to see.

She knocks on the door, but it's a church door, and it swallows the sound of her fist. She presses her ear against the wood, listening for a moment, but the door swallows all those sounds, too, and the street becomes loud, becomes singing. "Oh, come on," she says, under her breath. Another person would decide that Dorothea isn't inside, or decide that, oh well, time to give a call. That isn't Kage. Kage decides to explore, to circle around the (smallish [white board slatted]) church. There's always another door, and somebody's inside. Or maybe there's a swingset out back for the kids. Kage likes swings. They're good places to wait.

[Declan]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Oh right, almost forgot...Nightmares]

[Declan]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[And how aware are we today?]

[Declan]
It was interesting how often Declan ended up at Churches and other supposedly Holy places. Interesting because he didn't believe in God, and would not claim to be a religious person. The large wooden cross on top of the building held no particular meaning or symbolism to him, other than the faint memories it brought back of his Grandmother. (They were hazy things, those memories. Fading in and out, like a dream. He was never really sure if they were real or imagined.)

And yet... here he was. It may have been pragmatism. Some inner survival instinct that associated churches with sanctuary. Or maybe he was just drawn to the keening note of rapture that the parishioners always left on these sites, like a lingering mark. Spirituality's own kind of resonance (and magic.) There were other emotions here, too. Joy. Sorrow. Hope. Uncertainty. All were attractive things in their own way, for he fed off of these things, without even understanding how or why. Emotions spurred impulses inside of him that touched upon instincts long buried, but still strangely alive.

(Euterpe that will be again.)

At the moment, he was sitting on the ground behind the building, back leaned against the wall as he gazed up at the sky. He didn't know the name of this church, or the name of the woman inside who Kage had come to visit. Neither did he know that Kage was going to show up, but when she did, he did not seem particularly surprised. (He was getting used to these coincidences already.) Her resonance called out before her physical body rounded the corner and came into view, and Declan dropped his eyes from the clouds and smiled.

"Hello."

He looked good today. He looked like he'd been eating and maybe even sleeping. He'd showered and shaved recently. His clothes were free of stains and tears.

[Kage Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5 (Failure at target 6)
[Er. Is Declan a surprise? Aware.]

[Kage Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Don't be jumpy?]

[Kage Jakes]
Hello, Declan says, and he takes her off-guard. Kage doesn't pride herself (on very much [although: nor is she humble]) on being perceptive, although she's noticed that since the Garden and Him and her Heart, she's more aware of the world, that occasionally the Feelings she gets are stronger, more detailed, she can guess at answers in forms that are more complete than they were before, can uncover nuances that were more subtle. But, like most of the mages who've lived in Chicago for a while, most've the mages who've just been around, Awake, part of the society of the Awakened, of the things that happen (that are noticed) by dint of being Awake, she generally pays attention to what she can sense.

And there'd been no intuition that told her one of Them was around. There'd been no gleam of perception (no hint of the protean, mutability, the fluid and transformative, the metamorphosing).

Kage is a creature of composure, however: of a self-contained sort've elegance (coupled with muted grace, something raw, unpracticed). This means she keeps a level head; this means she's Willful, and it means that she doesn't give Declan a wary look or glance over her shoulder or hesitate or jump out've her skin. Her eyebrows prick, and her breath stills for a moment, then she releases it. Her resonance is different from the last time Declan was in the same room as it: stronger, more potent; a new flavor, mingling: something kindling to immanence, something cutting, starry; something that bolsters the ardency, the Spring, the withering of winter.

" - hey, Declan," she says, and she walks along the side of the church until she gets to Declan's spot against its wall. "You look good today. How are you?"
[Declan]
She said he looked good, and he smiled in a manner that was something close to radiant. Not radiantly beautiful, mind. He was an average-looking person, all told, and although his eyes were quite pretty, his smile might have been better described as endearingly dorky. No, this was more of a radiance of spirit. He had both good and bad days, this drifter. Sometimes the bad days were very, very bad. But the good days could also be very, very good. That was part of his mercurial nature, perhaps.

"I surprised you? I'm sorry. I do that sometimes." Not usually to others like himself (to mages, to the awakened), but certainly to the Sleepers who passed by him every day while they went about their lives. He was a piece of the background. Faded. Invisible.

The boy (man?) stood up, brushing some dust off of his jeans before he leaned back again and folded his arms loosely over his chest. One might note that he finally seemed to have adapted himself to the idea of summer, and was no longer wearing a jacket. There was more vulnerability there, without the armor of extra layers. This too was a sign of improvement. He looked thin, though, with only the fabric of a white t-shirt to cover his torso. Rangy in the way of wild animals, with jutting bones and stringy muscles.

She said he looked good. A little color came to his cheeks.

"I.. thanks. I'm having a contemplative day. And you?"

[Kage Jakes]
Kage hasn't (yet?) seen Declan on a bad day. There was the day in the cemetery, where he seemed confused, scattered, disparate, lost: not dangerous. There was the day in the park, where he'd mentioned Emily, where he'd revealed he knew (a little of) what was going on, what he was, that it was new. There's now, and he is having a contemplative day. Kage's eyes are dark and expressive, and although she doesn't go around - contrary to popular opinion - with the goal of obfuscation, of concealing, whatever it is they're expressing tends to be difficult to read (nuance [eloquence]). Right now, though, they're considerate, thoughtful. Not contemplative, but close-kin.

"I'm trying to sneak inside," she says, tipping her head toward the church's wall. "The door's locked." It surprises her when churches lock their doors. Maybe because of that outdated sense of Sanctuary, maybe because of all the medieval texts she's read in which Sanctuary is a very real thing. More than a concept: a right, inviolable -- until men decide otherwise. "What do you contemplate on contemplative days?"
[Declan]
Kage was good at this - at making you talk about subjective things. Even in the few brief encounters he'd had with her, Declan had learned this much. She didn't simply let intriguing comments fall to the wayside. She followed them, peering closely like a detective with a magnifying glass. Maybe that was why so many people thought of her as something unknowable - because when they were around her, they were the ones doing most of the talking.

When she asked him what he contemplated, Declan pursed his lips together for a moment in serious consideration of the question.

"Music," he said, quietly. "I guess... it's not like... thinking, really. But it is. Just... not with words."

He seemed self-conscious for a moment, reaching up to scratch at the thin scar on the side of his neck. (He had a lot of scars, though most were thankfully covered.) "Want any help? I can pick locks sometimes. Never tried it on a door like that, though."

[Kage Jakes]
He offers to pick the lock of that very solid wooden door (or to try), and Kage puts her hands together, palm to palm (holy palmer's), fingertips to fingertips, and her smile is as crooked as the morals of what she's about to say yes to. To be fair, she gives it a moment's thought: because Kage is a courteous creature, and respectful, and she doesn't want to get Declan in trouble. "Really? Yes; please. I'd really appreciate it."

Her hands stay pressed together for a moment; her fingertips touch her mouth. Then the woman glances sideways, off toward some sparse trees, toward a city-bird singing a city-song, and she drops her hands, hooking her thumbs through the back of her belt-loops. Arms, wings. Same difference. Her gaze finds Declan again, and she'll trail the shadow of the church back and around (sinuous [cat]) toward the door.

And say, "Music. Do you play an instrument? Believe that thoughts need words in order to exist? Or should need words?"

[Declan]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]

Kage asked if he played an instrument, and some illusive shadow crossed over Declan's face. It was hesitance. It was uncertainty. No, it was regret. The thought pained him. The memories wouldn't respond as they should have - only keened softly in enigmatic despair.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, to that first question. To the next, though... "No, I don't suppose they do. Actually, I have difficulty thinking in words. Maybe that's why I don't always make sense, when I talk." He laughed a bit. Self-deprecating. "It's like... trying to translate a painting into numbers."

Dubious ethics indeed, Kage accepted Declan's offer, and he seemed pleased at the chance to assist in something, even if that something involved breaking into a church. Then again, it had been awhile since he'd attempted something like this, and the likelihood of success was minimal. He lead the way back around to that heavy, locked door, glancing around to check if someone might be watching them. When it seemed as if no one was, the orphan bent down and inspected the old lock. Then he stepped away again, looking around on the ground for something he might be able to use as a tool. Eventually he found a trash bin, and one of the bags contained an old, twisted hanger.

(One could imagine him doing this sort of thing before.)

The hanger was unbent and broken into a couple of pieces, and there was a fair bit of poking and prodding in the lock as Declan attempted to open it.

[Dex+Streetwise]

[Kage Jakes]
He doesn't know. The way Declan says he doesn't know, the ache in his expression, doesn't lead her to the conclusion that he just hasn't tried yet, that he thinks maybe as soon as he does, he'll have the knack, that Time is fluid (is a circle). The way he says it there's an absence, something wrenched, and a sorrow, something lost. Kage is familiar (surprisingly) with that kind've absence. Too familiar, really. "I own a violin," she says. "If you'd like, you can try to make it sing."

A serious look, when he laughs. Self-deprecating. "Do you confuse people very often?"

She'll be happy to put the need for an answer to that question aside while Declan does his (some people would be horrified [some people would find it ironic]) dirty deed with the lock and the door and the wire hanger. Kage watches with fascination. She doesn't know how to pick locks, and although she could probably google herself a How To or figure it out if she really needed to (sharp [intelligent]), it isn't something she's had to do before. And Kage thinks, often, in terms of doors, of locks: it strikes her as strange, suddenly, that she can't do it physically.

When the lock clicks, a musical echo, a pop, under Declan's onslaught, Kage is crouched nearby, two fingers over her lips (hush shadow [kiss]), head canted, watchful and intent.

[Declan]
This might be nothing more than a game for the two of them to play. Like children playing at being thieves. Only Declan had done this for real on more than one occasion. Somehow, the fact of his breaking into a place of worship just didn't seem to strike the Orphan as morally wrong. Not when they had no intent to cause any harm. (At least, he didn't. If Kage did, she would go unsuspected.)

A smile sparked in his eyes when he heard that click. (Look! I did good.) Then he withdrew his makeshift tools and threw them back in the trash bin. When he returned to Kage's side, by the door, he looked at her as if for some kind of cue. If she went inside, he'd follow. If not, he'd stay where he was.

She'd asked him a question though. He'd been focused at the time. Distracted. Now he gave it some serious thought.

"Sometimes, I think. Depends on the day."

He didn't mention Riley, or the conversation he'd had with Nico the other day. That was a different kind of confusion, and mostly on his own side of the fence. Instead he thought about the way he'd tried to explain once, to a woman on the street, how there was this music that ran through everything. And she'd given him that Oh you poor thing look. Kage never gave him that look. Neither did Riley, or Emily. Maybe that was why he was doing better.

"...You have a violin?" There was an odd reaction to this. He perked up (interested), but there was also fear. Perhaps like that of a young teenager being faced with the prospect of sex for the first time, and unsure as to whether they were more excited or terrified. "I... I don't know. I could try." Uncertain, soft, halting words. More than one voice trying to speak at once... only one winning.

[Kage Jakes]
Kage pushes the door open with one hand. Her fingers, splayed. The door is heavy, and it groans when it opens. There is dust in the hinges. This isn't because it's a particularly unkempt church, or even uncared for; as far as churches go, this one is well-cared for, even beloved, and not just because of its tower, because of its loveliness, because it straddles the cross-currents of a poor neighborhood and a wealthy one, of a gay neighborhood and a straightlaced neighborhood. But all things start to fall apart: there's always dust, somewhere.

A spiderweb, a choking damselfly, the wings iridescent. Inside, the acoustics are excellent. They echo. Most churches built as churches have these sorts of acoustics, resonant things, full-bodied, chasing echoes down just like that. It's dark in the foyer, and it's dim (twilight [gloaming]) inside, where light falls through high (clear [and then stained]) windows. Kage doesn't linger outside; she slips into the church straightaway and looks around. There's no sign of Dorothea, and Kage pats the pocket of her jeans, feeling for her cellphone. Then she hitches her shoulder up, goes up onto her toes while she dig, dig, digs out the phone and checks her messages. None.

After this, she glances at Declan, who has followed her inside. Says, picking up on the (fervent [awkward]) way he reacts to her mention of a violin: "Yeah," she says, a belated answer. "I do. It's even got a name." A beat. And, "So do you sing, or just contemplate music? I mean, sing what you contemplate?"

[Declan]
Kage was quiet while she looked around for Dorothea, and Declan was content to explore while she checked her messages. His footsteps made soft sounds on the floor as he wandered, and his eyes kept pulling toward the windows (drawn to the light like a moth to a flame). When he stopped, he stood in a pool of colored light that filtered down from one of the stained-glass panes. As Kage spoke, he turned back as if he'd forgotten that she was there. (He hadn't, but... perhaps he'd been lost in himself for a moment.)

"I sing sometimes. Don't know if I'd say I was any good at it, but I do. Sometimes it's all I've got, I guess."

After a beat, he added, with a little more certainty this time: "I'd really like to see your violin."

(It called, it pulled, it sang - Hear me, I know you can hear me.)

[Kage Jakes]
There are no candles lit. No candles, burning, at the altar; the tabernacle is not laid out with ritual items. The interior of the church is clean, clear. There are however bibles tucked away in the pews, there are hymnals tucked behind the bibles, and a book laid out on the podium. The Book, depending on who you talk to. Kage walked further into the church once she checked her message, un-slung her hip-purse (a purse, slung-low, it bumps against the curve of her hip, not cool or hot or whatever: that's not Kage; muted style, diminished radiance, cool ardor: contradiction), and laid it on one of the pews. Her steps didn't echo particularly, and she walks around the square of multi-coloured light Declan is standing in, skirting it, as though it were a ward she's not quite conscious of. There is such gold in the day to day, and it is so much like honey.

"Then I'll show it to you," Kage says. "For a song -- sing with me?" Kage lifts her eyebrows, and adds -- relenting: "I'll show you, anyway. But it's more fitting with a song, and the air here is all about waiting for noise. Hear that?" And, silence.

Hush.

[Declan]
Singing in a church. How the Choristers would approve. But it was a church they'd broken into, and Declan wasn't a believer - at least, not in the way they might want him to be. Kage didn't seem like one either, but then, she was difficult to puzzle out. These two had something in common besides a love for music. Neither of them could claim to belong somewhere. They were separate. Drifting on a current of their own making. Rules didn't apply. They believed what they believed - and it was theirs alone to claim.

Maybe someday that would change for Declan. Maybe it wouldn't. Right now, he was like a clay sculpture that hadn't yet been fired. It had shape, but it might be changed.

Kage made him an offer, and Declan actually cocked his head to the side to listen to the expectant silence. He decided that she was right (it wanted music), and smiled.

"Alright."

[Kage Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[You know, maybe Kage'll botch-choke.]

[Kage Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[BOTCH-CHOKE.]

[Kage Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 10 (Failure at target 8)
[BOTCH-CHOKE.]

[Kage Jakes]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 9)
[botch-choke.]

[Kage Jakes]
Alright.

Kage clambers up onto the daise and gets behind the pulpit. The church is empty; this is probably for the best. There is a stool behind the pulpit and she steps onto this, going onto her toes again, that she can lean her elbows against the angled plane where the Book is open, and she glances down at it, as if she could snag a song out've its pages. She doesn't intend on singing a hymn, though. There's nothing wrong with hymns:

Kage likes quite a few; then, Kage has rather varied musical tastes. She prefers to drive to rock or country, something wailing, with noise; maybe violins: something for blaring. At home, she listens to things more shadowed. That's what she's going to sing now. The Orphan (Disciple [really?]) regards Declan for a moment. She doesn't know him well, but she's seen enough, and heard enough, to know that he doesn't always remember, that his mind is a glass place, breaking, broken, flawed, that pressure in the wrong place could garner a reaction. What would a song do? He seems fine.

"What about this one?" she says, and starts singing a (mellow [low]) version of Song to the Siren. Something resonant, something lovely; Kage is no professional singer, but there's a pleasant roughness to her voice, a clear knowledge of pitch and key. If Declan looks perplexed, she doesn't keep on singing that song, however. Says, "Or," and instead, sings Damien Rice, sings Damien Rice's Volcano.

[Declan]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Let's roll first - Cha+Perf]

[Declan]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Oh RLY?]

[Declan]
[That's better]

[Declan]
"The first one," he said, almost instantly. Not because the other was not beautiful (they both were), but because the first touched a chord, for better or worse, and Declan would always be a creature who acted on instinct, without thought or consideration.

He knew this song. He knew it by heart. It meant something. And whether she resumed or not, the switch in his head had already been flipped. He was singing of his own accord. Singing to express the things unspoken. Memories he couldn't picture, but could feel. He might have been somewhere else. He might have been both here and there.

But he sang, and at first, it was a quiet thing. Hesitant - shy. But after the first couple of lines, he stopped thinking and just let the song flow as it should. He didn't join Kage on the pulpit, but rather, sang up toward her, like she was the priest and he the parishioner. Declan's singing voice wasn't professionally trained, but he did have perfect pitch (there was some kind of training there, to be sure), and a sweet, pleasant (honest) sound. He could have been in an indie band, somewhere.

Long afloat on shipless oceans
I did all my best to smile
'til your singing eyes and fingers
Drew me loving to your isle
And you sang
Sail to me
Sail to me
Let me enfold you
Here I am
Here I am
Waiting to hold you

Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you hare when I was fox?
Now my foolish boat is leaning
Broken lovelorn on your rocks,
For you sing, 'touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow:
O my heart, o my heart shies from the sorrow'

I am puzzled as the newborn child
I am troubled at the tide:
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Should I lie with death my bride?
Hear me sing, 'swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you:
Here I am, here I am, waiting to hold you'

[Kage Jakes]
Kage isn't very cynical around Declan; then, she isn't very cynical around Emily, either. Perhaps it's an apprentice thing (you're new [you're untainted]). Wary, a touch; but not now. Not here, in a towered church -- singing. Kage sings with Declan until the very last verse, which she opts to listen to instead, except for (and there's this place musicians go too, when they're using music for fun; it's a place of concentration, of, hey, this'll sound good; experimentation) these lines: I am troubled at the tide. Should I stand (silence)? Should I lie (silence)? And, Here I am, here I am. Oh my heart. Oh my heart is waiting.

And somewhere around this time, her cellphone buzzes, vibrating against her hip. Kage doesn't miss a beat -- it takes something to rattle her (to really, really rattle her: something more than a Hello, than a Hellhound). She covers the phone with her hand, muting it, while the last phrases of the Declan's voice diminish.

Then, "That more than earns you the right to say hello to my violin."

[Declan]
Kage wasn't as cynical around Declan as she might have been around others. But then, it was hard to be cynical around Declan, because he himself was so unabashedly genuine. It wasn't that he didn't have secrets (he did), or that he wasn't suspicious of the world (often, he could be), but there was a sweetly emotional and honest (almost innocent) heart beating in his chest, and he could never entirely hide that, even if he wanted to. He was a conduit for the music that lived around him. Something inspired. Something visionary.

But he was broken, now. A small and frightened thing, jumping at the shadows in his own mind. And whatever muse it was that was meant to drive him to ecstatic heights... she too was broken. Only a whisper of her true self.

For a brief moment, though... he was more than that. And it seemed as if maybe there was hope for him after all. He didn't even notice when Kage's phone buzzed. Neither did he notice that tears brimmed in his eyes and fell of their own accord, tracing shimmering lines down his cheeks. When he was finished, and Kage said that had earned him the right to say hello to her violin, he smiled. Then he did notice the wetness on his face, but he brushed his cheeks dry with the back of his hand as if this was nothing of much concern. Some days he was embarrassed at displays of emotion. Today he wasn't.

"I'm glad."

[Kage Jakes]
Kage, although her resonance claims that she is a more immediate creature, something passionate (ardent [burning]), she doesn't actually touch people very often. Kage isn't the kind of person who smiles just because someone else is smiling, who cries just because someone else is crying, is not the kind of person who feels an echo (often [all the time]) of what another is going through and lets it affect her.

Kage is cool, see, and composed; not quite aloof, not really, but definitely (demure [muted: elegance]) not someone who necessarily knows what to do with emotional displays. Someone else might very well be moved to give Declan a hug, because he's so lost, because he's crying, because there was hope, and Kage might very well be moved to do so; she doesn't, though. Instead, she stays at the pulpit, bites the inside of her lip, eyebrows drawing together for a moment, and her mind wanders to the last man (boy [thing]) who cried in front of her. But this is good - right? It's good to express yourself; it's good to unlock things, sometimes.

So Kage drags her fingers through her hair, checks her phone's latest text as she comes down from the pulpit with a hop-skip and a jump. "Me too," she says, and there: surfacing, the hint of that smile (albeit - bemused), the one that's absolutely radiant, that touches her eyes with dark radiance, transformative.

"We can go now, actually. Looks like the reason I'm at this church isn't going to make it after all."