Winner match.

[Emily] Disconnected. It was hard to feel tethered, to feel immanent and fully-present, grounded in any serious way, after the places they'd gone and the things they'd seen. (The things that they'd done.) It is nothing as tangible as a ribbon-bright belt that ties them together now, nothing as resonant as shared magics. It is friendship, an ethereal thing at best, and shared-experience, which could be more binding than physical ties. They gather, now, not because anything is wrong, but because the wrongness takes time to leech from their memories, to bleed out of their bones.

The Apprentice among them is dressed not unlike she was that night. Jeans -- these not bloodied and rent, not turned yet to ribbon-shreds -- and a tee shirt, but no jacket. The jacket has been retired, buried at the bottom of a waste bin, too far gone for any reuse. Too far gone for mending. Her messenger bag is back, slung shoulder to hip like always. She walks the last block or so to Ashley's flat with her chin tipped up and a lighter gait, for there is nothing dogging her from the shadows now. There is nothing hanging over her head.

The scrabble of claws on hardwood floors is expected when Emily knocks, and it makes her smile. Not the careful, warm enough smile she's offered to so many newcomers in the past month but something brighter, something joyful. She's carrying a small pastry box in one hand and the other is free. She rocks a bit back on her heels while she waits, and she will have to contain the urge to hug the smaller Hermetic (she had hugged whoever she could on that beach that evening, whoever had come through and was as elated to simply be alive) when the door opened.

It's a warm night, balmy and breezy. It smells of humidity. It teases tiny curls out to frame her face. It is Summer, finally, unrelentingly, and they are free of Edom and his mockery and threats.

[Ashley] Ashley was hugged a lot on Tuesday night. The diminutive Tytalan put up with it with surprising tolerance: swept up in a fierce hug by Daiyu when they left the Umbra, and the Akashic had actually planted a kiss on her cheek. Justine, laughing and talking about how they saw an archangel and it spoke to them in Enochian. Wharil, who had just been happy to be alive. She didn't instigate these hugs, they came to her.

For her part, Ashley is still basking in victory. Things are going to be happening in Chicago soon: there's little doubt in her mind of that. They'll be calling for votes for Deacon, Solomon and Israel will be challenging (and she's ready.) She'll be Seeking soon. Her life will continue to be busy, one long battle after another. And she's ready.

Right now, though, she and Justine are in her apartment, and Justine has left off trying to smother Ashley with a couch pillow long enough to look up and glance toward the apartment door. Toward Zane, who was barking ("helping") and now goes skittering toward the door. There's a documentary running, but Justine shuts it off as Ashley goes to answer.

Her hair is a bit mussed, and she runs a hand down over it to smooth it as she looks at the younger woman outside. "Hey, Em," she says, and gestures the Chorister-to-be inside. "Come in."

[Kage] [Doo Dee Doo.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Emily] She is well prepared for the helpful beast, and Emily carries the pink-walled box a little higher, so it is beyond the canine's reach. Once inside, she offers it to Ashley. Inside are small spheres, cream-filled and indulgent: profiteroles. They are, after all, celebrating more than a belated Independence Day.

"Hi, Ashley," she said, and like her smile her voice is warmer. It is a genuine warmth, something that wells up from her center and bleeds out through her smile. It is undeniable, however carefully she may try, at times, to control it. "Thanks for letting me stop by," she adds, stepping out of her shoes in the entryway.

"It's good to see you, outside of meetings." The Chorister-to-be doesn't quite stop talking until her stockingfeet stand on the hardwood floors. She waits until Ashley, who is naturally curious, hazards a peek into the box to explain what's inside. She wants to see the look of delight or dismay, whatever Ashley will evidence. Then, she adds, very nonchalantly, "There's a new bakery near my flat. I was curious about their choux."

She slips the strap of her messenger bag over her head and sets it beside her shoes. Not for the first time since Saturday, Emily notes that there's no residual ache in muscles that were torn and bloodied just a few days before. It is a small miracle, one she is grateful for but likely will never quite get used to.

There's a smile for Justine, and this too is warm and genuine. Emily can't recall if they've been properly introduced, as Saturday was hectic and very task-oriented. She waves, almost shyly, at Ashley's once-cabalmate and friend. "Hey."

[Ashley] Ashley takes the box from Emily's hands and brings it into what passes for a kitchen here, sets it on the counter and opens it. There is indeed a look of delight: this should be expected. Ashley likes most foods, will eat almost anything, and most people will probably have noticed by now that she enjoys sweets. "I'll have to stop by," Ashley tells Emily, meaning the bakery, of course.

Justine, meanwhile, is straightening the couch pillows. No Tytalan smothering went on here, nope. That done, she straightens and smiles in Emily's direction. Justine is perhaps a year or two older than Ashley, at most, and keeps her long brown hair over one shoulder. Typically. At the moment, she's raking her fingers through it to straighten it, order it again. She's not a woman who stands out much. Her features are rounded and ordinary, her eyes brown, the same color as her hair, and she's of average height and has a curvy figure. The smile is warm, though, throws off the rays of evening light that filter through the window, lends a brilliance both to her and everyone there.

"Hi," she says to Emily. Ashley'd introduced her, but briefly, and Justine is quiet. She didn't have much to say, on the way to the shoreline. "I don't know if you remember my name," she adds. "I'm Justine Noble, Order of Hermes. I'm an old cabal mate of Ashley's." Emily may remember the name: Ashley'd spoken of Justine to Emily once. She'd said that Emily reminded her of Justine.

"I'm definitely glad it's over," Ashley says, picking up one of the little spheres and biting it in half as she heads back into the living room. "Tea, Em?"

[Kage] Late evening, and the moon is a hook of something bright and luminous behind the murk and gloom of clouds, within the pooling shadow of night. Late evening, and Emily has just trailed up, past the smoking graduate students who loiter in front of Ashley's apartment, full of stories from their weekend, full of I don't remember anythings and But boy, are there pictures. Late evening, and the woman who slouches out of a truck that most people don't expect her to drive (slip of a thing [hair like a flake of flame, mouth like a kiss, an average song]), she pauses to breathe in the thick air, the night, the secondhand smoke.

Kage can greet some of the people in Ashley's building by name now, at least, the ones who tend to loiter on the building's stoop. Not all of them live there. Student housing, student neighborhoods, students. Easy to vagabond. Kage misses school, sometimes. But there's a package at home with a handwritten label, and inside the package, books. Books for studying, books of interest, and when she opened the box, after she came home from the beach (reverie [radiant pleasure: gorgeous, bloodied]), she'd beamed, then cried into her pillow, because He wasn't talking to her, or because she was glad (and actually laughing), or because now she'd have to pay off her family's Hawaiian vacation and she makes a decent living but not that decent.

That was then. This is now.

Now, greeting one of Ashley's neighbors, recognition kindling in her eyes, a brief upward nod. The mages inside Ashley's apartment are just starting to talk about tea and maybe get into the groove of devouring some of those delicious pastries when Kage calls Ashley's phone until Ashley picks up, drawing circles on the door with her finger, 'til it is so, and she can say

" - hi! I'm at your door."

But maybe those inside already knew that. Felt her, first. Or maybe nobody's on their A-game. Maybe, maybe.

[Ashley] [Ashley: Man, I'd better be on my A-game.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Ashley] [Justine: Kage?]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Emily] [Awareness: Do I even have an A-game anymore?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 6)

[Kage] [Awareness: Me? You? Everyone?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 7, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Emily] Ashley is the type of friend who brings excellent tea by as a housewarming present, so there is naturally a small business card for the bakery taped to the inside lid of the box. Just in case the Hermetic were to say something like I'll have to stop by.

"It's nice to meet you again, Justine," Emily says, and her accent shapes the syllables a little differently. It sounds of far away places, and times not now, while remaining predominantly British-canted. "I'm Emily," she says, then adds her own last name almost as an afterthough, "Littleton." She is not, today, so much the diplomat's daughter as she is the co-ed student, an Apprentice at the edge of Initiatehood.

She does remember, that Ashley mentioned this cabalmate once. They were probably discussing things like Philosophy Clubs, and Owen's in particular. It had happened, at least once, often over coffee or tea.

"Tea would be lovely, thanks," she said to Ashley, utterly oblivious of Kage's approach. Or Justine's resonance. Or Ashley's Hunger. In fact, were she to really think about it, this was the quietest anything had felt since she'd Awakened. They could all be plain vanilla mortals again ... maybe that's what happened when there were no immanent disasters, no demons or Mauraders. Everything actually went back to normal!

"Are you staying for awhile?" Emily asks Justine, attempting small talk. It's not as awkward for her as it is for Ashley, but she is somewhat unsure of where she fits in this trio (soon to be quartet).

[Ashley] Justine feels Kage's approach long before she makes her way to the front of the brick walk-up. She'd suspected that the Orphan might be headed here; her suspicions are confirmed when Ashley tugs her phone free from her pocket, raises it to her ear.

"All right," she tells Kage. "See you in a minute." The students outside Ashley's apartment know her by now, particularly Kyle and Justin, her neighbors: the ones she's been seen attending bars with, in times past. They, too, know Kage by name. They know she's here to visit Vanessa, who, oddly enough, they've heard called Ashley once or twice. They think it's an odd name to pick for a nickname. Suspect that maybe it's a joke.

After Kage hangs up, Ashley goes about adding tea to the strainer, black samovar; that seems to have gone over well last time with Kage, and Justine doesn't mind it. Justine, for her part, is focused on Emily for right now. Perhaps she's sensed that bit of awkwardness, understands that the girl might be feeling like a bit of a third wheel. She gives Emily another quick smile as though hoping to put her at ease.

"Another day or two, probably," she says. "It's nice to get a chance to visit Ashley here. I remember hearing your name...you're training for the Chorus, aren't you? What did you think of everything that just happened?"

[Emily] Ashley crosses to the door, and they are neatly divided into two groups for the moment. The Orphan-for-now moves more into the living room space, and stands less on the periphery like a lost child or strange wallflower. It is an odd thing to be the Apprentice in a growing room full of Disciples, but it is not that strange given the other places she has been in her life, the other one of these things is not like the others moments she has weathered. Justine's question makes it at once easier, and harder, to settle in.

"I think..." she begins, letting the thoughts coalesce before she offers them up, "That things are not quite as black and white as I had once believed." She says this with a layered tone, as if it implies far more than just what she is saying. There is a small smile, knowing and somewhat bolstered, that curls at the side of her mouth. She doesn't not say, here, now, that it affirms her Call to Faith, her need to rejoin the Church. "I'm glad everyone is okay, and that it went as well as it did."

She shrugs a bit, still not quite sure what Justine is asking, and not wanting to overstep or embarrass herself in front of Ashley's good friends. "It shows me how very much I have left to learn. I'm hoping that Owen, the Chorister who has offered to teach me, can explain a bit more of what happened. Or perhaps Father Ward."

[Kage] For Emily, the world right now is (blank [paper]) quieted. Normal. Average, human. Workaday, the way the days once were. Emily is missing a sense. She can't see or can't hear or can't smell or can't taste or can't touch the supernatural. That dark (resonant) shadow of intuition that nestles beneath the breast is silent and unmoving and it notes no passage of Others in the world. Justine, though: what doesn't she feel? What nuances does she miss? Few, fleeting. Ashley, well: her A-game looks a lot like a D, relatively speaking.

It doesn't actually take a minute. It takes about thirty three seconds, all told. As much time as it takes to ask a question, and wait for an answer. To get an answer, too. As much time as it takes for doggish ears to prick, for fingers to tap, taptap, tap, out a brief and quiet tattoo before knock, knock, knock.

And after knock, knock, knock, she'll rest her shoulder against the doorframe until the door opens. Kage is a courteous creature. She isn't the kind of friend who just opens doors without permission, although some people wouldn't be happy to know what she does and does not consider permission. Inside, she can feel Ashley and Emily and Justine.

And when the door opens? Kage smiles, quiet, a touch of smoke, and steps inside. There's no jacket to take off, and no bag of pastries, no bag of tea, no bag of Thai food, no bag at all, except for her fraying messenger bag. "Hey, Emily," she says, and also, "Justine," and then, "Zane," and then, "Ashley." There is no hidden meaning in the order of these greetings, people. Maybe there's another: "Zane." And a pet.

[Ashley] Justine, in truth, had only been hoping to make small talk of a sort: Emily is a Chorister, she'd imagined Emily might have some special interest in all this talk of angels and demons. She can tell the girl is still nervous, and reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear as Ashley begins setting out mugs in the kitchen.

"I'm sure they can make it make more sense for you," she assures Emily. "It's overwhelming, realizing for the first time how much bigger things are than you thought." The Umbra, of course. She knows Emily stepped through, that Kage and Emily went after them. Spoken of, perhaps, in the aftermath.

There's a knock at the door, and Zane is again padding over, clicking, sniffing at the bottom and wagging his tail. He likes Kage, trusts the people present. Ashley moves to tug the door open and wave Kage in. "Hey," she says.

"Kage, hi," Justine says, and for what it's worth, she sounds pleased to see the Orphan. She sounds pleased to see the Orphan whole.

[Emily] The talk of Angels & Demons does have a particular meaning for Emily, as it would for any leaning toward the Singers. It's not something she's processed well enough to articulate just yet. She has been with this struggle since the beginning, since she and Owen laid an infant girl to rest; since he found a place for a young boy to be sheltered within the Chorus. There is a lot to make heads and tails of, not the least of which is the realization that there are evils in the world deeper than the corruption and malice of men's hearts. It's a sobering thought (it's a reason to push onward).

"The whole year has been like that," she says to Justine, with just enough warmth underlying her words to paint them as a gentle exaggeration. It's not that close to hyperbole, though, as the other Chicago denizens can attest. It is Emily's turn to fidget, to tuck a thin curl behind her ear. It does not stay.

"Hey, Kage," Emily says. She waves a little. Emily has not quite caught on that she's the only who didn't feel Kage coming.

[Kage] The first thing Kage says is not so what are you guys discussing. The Orphan's heard enough; Emily, speaking of the year, the year being like something, that something can only be strange, hectic, terrifying, elating, messy, full of turmoil, black days, black flags, white flags, gleaming days. She doesn't interrupt the conversation yet, either.

Her smile sparks more honest, briefly; tarnishes up her eyes with contemplation (ardent [shadowed]). She keeps an ear open for it, and makes a beeline for Ashley's kitchen counter, whereat she curls her fingers on the countertop, rests her chin on the countertop between her fingers, cants her head to the side, and looks soulfully at the tea kettle.

A beat. And, conversation allowing, of course, she says - "I feel as if I'm going to make longing noises in the back of my throat at any moment and Zane will cock an ear at me as if to say humans make that noise. Is there any food? Is that box from [insert bakery name here]?"

Shameless rogue.

[Ashley] "I've heard, a little," Justine says of Emily's year. Of Ashley's year and Kage's. By now she's heard the details from Ashley - so, more than a little. She knows that Emily has seen a lot more in her first year as an apprentice than she saw in hers. For a few years after, in fact. She knows that Ashley was weighed down with Jhor, and she was dismayed that she hadn't heard any of it while the Tytalan was struggling with it (though she was not surprised.) Teasing about her tendency to shoulder on alone might or might not have been what triggered the pillow smothering.

"Yeah," Ashley says, pulling the lid of the box open and tilting the box toward Kage. She's been listening to the conversation, listening to Justine talk to one of her Chicago friends. She knows that Justine is interested because Justine has heard of Emily; she also knows that Justine is interested because she wants to make friends with Ashley's new friends.

"Did you ever notice how much we eat around each other?" Ashley asks, idly, glancing toward the tea kettle as though to urge it to heat more quickly. It's only been on the stove for a few minutes, though, not enough to reach boiling point. "I was surprised when nobody brought sandwiches before we opened the Shallowing. I'm only half joking."

[Emily] It is a little easier for Emily to stand in her own skin one Kage enters. Perhaps because they have stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, before the breach. Perhaps because they have paths that kiss in the woods, that run up against each other at the margins of a time-lost clearing. Perhaps because it evens the numbers, at least in one accord. Emily and Kage, there is a kinship there, however quiet and hidden.

She shifts, so the two groups of two are more readily resolved into one quad again. This is not nervous movement; it serves a purpose.

"I thought on it," she says, this to Ashley's comment about sandwiches. "It just didn't seem quite the right time for a picnic."

Wherever they gathered there was food. It softened the awkwardness of hard times; it heightened the celebration of good times; it gave them all a ready distraction when nothing came to mind, when the silence began to stretch. It was a comfortable ritual, for people steeped so heavily in rote and ritual that they might not be able to just be, be present, be still and silent around one another any longer. (Which is assuming, of course, that they'd had this skill before.)

[Kage] Kage doesn't hesitate before plucking (delicate [demure]) a cream puff out've the pastry box. There's a lot of things that can be different, bakery to bakery, cream puff to cream puff. Some of them are hard on the outside, a little crunchy, and that crunch dissolves immediately into a poof of air and cream as soon as teeth are applied. Some are cheweier, gooier, require more sucking. Maybe Kage's resonance has that amorous (ardent [Spring-blush, burning, luminous: that first touch, kindling) feel because she likes food. She watches the cream puff for a second or two.

Her mouth is crooked -- a lopsided almost-smirk: "That's not so, Em. The edge of a thing is always a good time to break bread. Next time, I'll remember to bring some P & J. Or P & B." The smirk fades, and she presses her palm into her eyes, forehead creasing.

[Ashley] Justine, who has been in the living room, moves to join the others in the kitchen. She also moves to take one of the pastries. The Flambeau is comfortable being quiet: the other three know each other much better, they're far better acquainted and what happened a few days ago will have lasting impact for them. She'll go back to Boston full of wonder at what she saw, but without the consequences for the city to deal with.

Ashley leans back against the counter, resting on her elbows, tilting her shoulders back in a slouch. "I might've felt a bit less nervous before going in," she says, vaguely amused at the thought of peanut butter and banana sandwiches on the eve of conflict. "I am kind of sorry we had to destroy the chalice, though."

There's a sidelong look from Justine. Wordless.

[Emily] Emily looks to Ashley, as well. Her brow furrows, gently, and her mouth tightens, just a bit. While she is thinking about something, intently, she reaches out to claim a pastry for herself.

"That's not the sort of thing I'd want lying around," she opines at last, before nibbling on her cream puff delicately. Emily does not like to make messes, to be messy, to let crumbs fall or cream smear. One hand is held under the treat like a mid-air plate. Her tone isn't reproving, but it's cautionary. Gently so.

[Kage] "I am sorry," Kage says, and there is no repentance. "All that history," she says, and she sounds wistful, because: well, of course; Ashley knows, and perhaps Justine knows as well, via Ashley, that Kage spent time trailing the name of this thing, the Ever Thirsting Chalice, from Jerusalem to the New World. "It must have had another purpose; who made it? Why was it named that? Who first used it? And for what? Now it will be nothing; just dust. Less than dust." A beat. "Don't destroy wonder just because it could potentially be dangerous." Another beat. "Mind you, I'm just as glad there's one less ancient doomsday relic in the world today."

[Ashley] This, what Kage says: it's what Ashley had been regretful about, and a quick glance toward the Orphan says so, shows understanding. "Exactly," she says. "I mean, just because it was used improperly in the past doesn't mean that was how it was meant to be used. Or things that could've been learned from it."

"I have the feeling a lot of dangerous relics incite that sort of reasoning in people," Justine says quietly, and then glances toward the teapot right as it begins to whistle. Ashley moves to pull it free, to strain the tea and partition it into the four mugs that are already sitting on the counter.

[Emily] "And, regrettably, the number of people who will use a dangerous thing conscientiously and carefully is far outstripped by those who will succumb to its temptation," Emily muses, perhaps thinking on other things that have happened in town this year. The Society's rules for the Chantry were predicated, in part, on the corruptive tendency of odd remnants from the former Chantry guardians.

"You might have been able to handle it, study it, and respect it. But how many others can you really say that about?" she asks.

[Kage] "Why was it destroyed? Was that the only way to pour out what was inside?" Kage asks, now. There was information exchanged on the beach in the first rush of (elation [joy]) realization. A revelation: everybody survived, all of us on the that fool's errand, that fool's plan, survived, and a demon was destroyed, and spirits were freed from chains, and the city was safe, and corpses rose from the water to walk, but fell down again, and will not rise. But that information: it was rushed; it was giddy, it was a -- and this, and that, and this, have some honey, here.

I have the feeling a lot of dangerous, Justine says, and Kage almost smiles. Not quite, but almost. Her eyes are serious, grave, when she listens to Justine. Perhaps because Justine reminds her of someone she once knew, was once close to; perhaps because of the subject matter. The gravity (balladry [ardor, star]) doesn't leave her gaze when Emily says, but how many others can you really say that, although her gaze slips toward Ashley.

She is frowning, slightly. "I hear what you're saying, and believe me, my healthy distrust of everyone remains intact, but at the same time: do you hear what you're saying? Oh, hey. This powerful force may be used for evil, so let's not even look to see if there's some good in it: let's just cut it down. It'll only corrupt. I can't buy that; there's strength against that kind of crap." A beat. "Taking us out of the theoretical, I'm just ... a little sad, the way I'd be a little sad if a page from the Book of Kells was burned. History. People touched that thing. And now, that touch is gone."

[Ashley] "It was the only way to release the souls, that I know of," Ashley says, "and everyone else immediately decided to destroy it and given the circumstances I thought it was an inappropriate time for internal dissent." A glance toward Justine, something that says that the Flambeau might have had something to do with that curbed desire, harnessed instinct.

She still isn't quite sure she made the right decision. She isn't sure she made the right decision to help the Sleepers at the club either, to save them from the Swarm. It will bother her; these things do. Deciding ethical decisions these days is a bit of Want, a bit of impulse, and a bit of flailing in the dark. The glance toward Kage says she understands what the Orphan is saying though, still agrees.

"I understand," Justine says, "but at the same time...just because it -could- be used for good things eventually doesn't mean it's worth the price. You have to take the risk into account."

[Emily] "I can understand the sadness," she says, to Kage. But this is not recanting. It is possible for Emily to feel strongly about the danger presented by such a relic, and to mourn the loss of tangible history as well. "Or wanting to hold on to something ancient long enough to connect with the history it holds. Nevertheless, I tend to agree with Justine, here."

She's overcome her shyness, somewhat. Emily is back to speaking her mind. At least for the moment. She'll take tea with them, listen if this debate goes much further, scritch at the place just behind Zane's easrs, and then Emily will have to head out again. The girl is busy, and she's still making up for lost time (for June).

[Kage] [doo dee doo]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4 (Botch x 2 at target 6)

[Kage] [doo dee doo?]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 8)

[Kage] An inappropriate time for internal dissent, Ashley says, and Kage's mouth curves (kiss [shadow]). "It probably wasn't a good time for argument, no." A beat. And then, "Besides, given the information and the deadline: I suppose it was the safest, surest bet."

Another beat, and Kage's eyebrows have drawn together again. They're untouched by anything sardonic. She isn't as strongwilled as usual, not nearly, and that she is still tired, still frayed, from guarding the rift from spirit creatures, from watching things move in the red fog, from hearing the red star singing, it comes out insofar as she is less inscrutable than usual, less reserved, less veiled.

"And, yes. You do have to take the risk into account. But if there's something that is good, if there's some central brightness," and see, Kage doesn't even realize that her eyes are deepening, darkening, smoking up, luminous and (reserved) ardent, "for lack of a better word, then it's a shame to not even try, or at least think to try."

It's this kind of attitude that made Kage think that, with enough time, with enough luck, she could unchain Dylan Willis from the nameless 'crow, that there was a way to fix it, that what was wrong could be righted, what is done could be undone. It's also this kind of attitude that allowed her to aid and abet those who were trying to kill the (inferno [danger]) nameless 'crow at the same time.

Moral ambiguity.
A compass rose.

[Ashley] The safest, surest bet, Kage says, and the Tytalan scowls. Kage does not seem sardonic, does not seem to be needling Ashley, but nonetheless she appears to have been needled. Safe, sure bets are for people who don't push, who don't challenge themselves: and she would very much have liked to challenge herself. But when Ashley'd said it wasn't time for internal dissent, perhaps it was a double meaning, perhaps it meant that she can't help but be conflicted about such things.

"You didn't see the chalice," Justine says. "There was this pull from it...it was reaching for us. It was thirsty. Even if we had managed to get a hold of it, I think the most anyone ever would have been able to do is restrain it...and at that point, why not destroy it?"

And Ashley believes in a different sort of moral ambiguity: that Wills are what exist, that the stronger ones determine right and wrong, dictate laws for everyone else. (Some have concluded that she has no sense of right and wrong based upon her having voiced this belief. Perhaps.) Ashley frowns and lets honey unspool from her spoon into the mug of tea she has, turning an ear toward the conversation. Contemplating the words being said.

[Kage] [?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Kage] "Hey," Kage says, and judging by her tone, that hey is because of something she just thought of, something related to but not directly springing from this discussion. A pause, and she brings her focus back to their initial topic. The hey'll wait. Besides, she needled Ashley unintentionally, and once she realizes this, there is first a fleeting gleam of something approaching musing, followed by wry. "Don't give those words that look, 'ley, they never did anything to you."

And then, fingers in her hair, again, pressing against the side of her (slim [elegant]) neck. Her gaze is pensive, but direct. A small hm for what the chalice felt like to them. And then - "Are you glad you came, Justine?"

[Ashley] [Justine - Perception + Awareness: What're you thinking about, there, Kage?]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 7, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Kage] [Kage - What?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Kage] There don't seem to be very many strings attached to the question: Kage is just wondering whether Justine is glad that she came to Chicago. There's no hidden, pointed agenda: no, oh, man, aren't you glad you were here to stop Ashley from going to the dark side (and arguing in the middle of the umbra). Simplicity. Kage is wondering whether Justine feels either different or more herself after being asked to aid a situation she wasn't even on the sidelines of, at least not knowingly.
to†Ashley

[Ashley] There's that sharp Hey, and Ashley looks toward Kage when she's admonished but makes no reply. There is a glance from Justine toward the Tytalan then, toward Kage, short and quick, as though to express sympathy for the rather moody, tempremental nature their mutual friend sometimes (okay, usually) displays. Ashley doesn't seem to notice.

After that there's another smile, that same sort of soft around the edges faded light glow, as she takes some of the milk from the refrigerator to add to her own cup of tea. "I am," she tells Kage. "We saw an archangel there in the Umbra, because it was fighting to hold the dark things back. It spoke to us, even if it was just to give us orders. How often do you really get to be a part of something like that? It was amazing."

[Kage] "Are there stories of them speaking," Kage says, half-musing, "When orders aren't involved?"

This isn't to say that the prospect of an archangel [these messengers (these creatures)] doesn't impress her, give her a jolt of caution and contemplation in equal measure to the one she had when the word Demon was first bandied about to her. No: more, even - because demons are common things, deal-givers, bargain-breakers, with their black roads, their smutty fingers, the world, so (too) dark. But the opposite of a demon -- she does not imagine them to be Good, just aweful. As in, full of awe. As in, something alien, to be wary of, but a Wonder just the same, something to be yearned after, something fascinating.

"What did you think, Ashley?"

And then: "Were you guys -- did a lot of spirit entities attack you? I mean, would you say the word 'flocking to' or 'fleeing from' would be applicable?"

[Ashley] "I don't think so," Justine says, with a slight smile. Her world, well, it's significantly more black and white than Kage's or Ashley's, and what she saw was definitely a representation of good, of God, of holiness. "Some people have claimed to have sat down and had lengthy conversations, but I've always doubted the truth of that a little, honestly. But maybe. Maybe they want to be understood."

Kage asks Ashley what she thought, and the Tytalan's eyes flick back to the other two. She's been listening: listening, but turning to her own thoughts too, her own reflections. It isn't difficult for her to divide her attention that way, to pay equal attention to two different things. Such things are second nature to magi skilled in the Ars Mentis, after a while. "I thought being in the Umbra was interesting in and of itself," Ashley says. "It was challenging. The High Umbrood were just part of all of that." A shrug; needless to say she was not filled with the same sense of reverence Justine was.

"And...no, there weren't a lot. One of the Fallen, and these two huge dogs it had guarding the chalice. The archangel was fighting a few more. We weren't really carving our way through a host of enemies, or anything." A wry smile, at that.

[Kage] "Really," Kage says, an echo, and her eyes are grave again - grave, moon-washed, a lacery of shadow. She taps her fingers against the side of her tea-mug, and exhales.

[Ashley] "Really," say both former cabal mates, in unison. They don't look at each other amused, or giggle. They got used to knowing what the other would be thinking, to occasionally speaking together or for each other, a long time ago.

"I'd expected more, too," Ashley adds, after a beat. "But I guess Edom was otherwise occupied, and that was kind of the point of sending the other team after him."

[Kage] "There was something else going on," she says, with quiet certitude. There isn't much tentative about Kage. There wasn't, not even back before, when Ashley and Justine first met her, when she was the quietest (the newest [the youngest]) out of three, in the shadow of two strong personalities. "I was watching them veer away from the gate towards, or away from, some point -- I thought it might have been you people. But it must not have been. There was a lot of movement."

She is looking at Emily as she says this, and then she is pushing away from the kitchen counter. "Who wants to play four-person chess?"

[Ashley] At this new information, both Ashley and Justine exchange a look. Something wondering, something wary, something aware that they didn't manage to get all of the information before they went into the Umbra, they don't know all the factors. A scowl from Ashley at the thought that they might have been pieces to be moved around, decoys. She doesn't like that thought, doesn't like insignificance.

The offer of chess, though, drags her thoughts away. "Sure," she says, and Justine smiles and gives the two Orphans a nod.

"Winners match."