A Golden Age for the Common Man

[K. R. J.] [123 not starting!]

[Ashley McGowen] The weight hanging beneath the clouds for the past two days has finally broken them, and after a long dry summer, there's mist wreathing Chicago's skyscrapers again. Grant Park is largely cleared out for this reason: it's cooled down enough so that the humidity isn't smothering, but Chicago's denizens are more inclined to stay indoors.

Ashley is not. When it first began she realized home was too far away for her to get there before she got soaked anyway - can't Stride with a dog - so she accepted the rain. You don't stop it by complaining, after all.

The Hermetic is muddy, though her dog could probably claim most of the responsibility for this. It's let up for a while, but she's still soaked, the blades of her back jutting outward and sharply defined beneath her red shirt. She's throwing a ball: there it goes, arcing across the lawn with the dog streaking after it, and most of the time it'll bounce once twice against the grass before it arrives at its rest. Just to be dived upon seconds later. Run back. It starts again.

There's a rhythmic, mindless fun to playing with the dog that, at the moment, is quite welcome. There's an easy smile every time the dog runs back, and it doesn't seem to require her to do much.

[K. R. J.] [?]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[K. R. J.] [And Awareness?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[K. R. J.] Kage Jakes isn't estranged from her family, doesn't live in another city than they, and she sees everybody (at least) once a month. Today is one of those at least once a month days, and she has absolutely no plans to run into anybody who's Awake. Best laid plans. Today she doesn't sense the familiar diminutive Hermetic before the Hermetic is visible. Today, there's no opportunity to take another path, to nudge her ward this-a-way, not that-a-way, if indeed she'd even be inclined to do so. (They'll turn mean [They'll get inside your head]).

And so, Ashley tosses a ball for Zane, and the ball goes richoteting over a grassy slope. The grass is green today, summer-verdant, but also green as only gray rain'll make the grass seem green, green as if it only really wants to be green when there's rain, like, like, fog is its lover, and it's gotta look good, and the [hematite coloured, that sort've condensed dark, with a sheen] greyhound the man Kage is standing with has by a leash half-pricks its ears up, lifts its sleek deer-delicate head, then casts mournful eyes up at its owner. There's a half-wag of its lion-lon tail, white-tufted.

"I think I know that dog," Kage says, first.

The man she's walking with: that's Vance Jakes. He's much taller, although he doesn't top six feet, and he's very solid. Vance gives the impression of stone, or earth. He's not fat, although he's definitely not in the shape he was once. There's a lot of silver in his hair, and he has glasses. They wink, in what sunlight gets through the cloud-cover, the drizzle, when he looks to see what his daughter's referring to.

He says, "Then you know the owner, too, I take it?"

"Actually," Kage says, with a smirk, "Didn't I tell you? I've been going park to park, just saying hello to dogs, and totally ignoring their owners."

Vance scoffs. "Wouldn't be surprised."

[Ashley McGowen] [Can I catch myself?]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Ashley McGowen] Zane is a friendly dog. His sole show of aggression was on a day last winter when he saw Rene Vitalli across the park, and Ashley had been so startled when he snarled and went charging that she couldn't react immediately. (She was lucky Wharil was there to intervene. She might have a dead dog otherwise.)

He's a friendly dog, so he's not leashed; there are places in the park where this is permitted. He's bounding across the summer-verdant grass, body long, scrunched, then long again, lean, showing the youth and gangliness of his frame. He's fixated on the ball, at the moment.

Until he catches sight of Kage, and with Kage, another dog, and suddenly the ball is forgotten. Zane stands a moment with ears erect, big enough to catch sonar signals, before he dashes down the slope to greet Kage and the other dog.

At which point he arrives, wagging his tail, sniffing at Kage first (politeness) and then beelining toward the dog. They can hear Ashley's dismayed voice from over the slope. "Zane?"

At which point Ashley is not long to follow, running down the hill - or attempting. Her foot strikes a wet patch, skids, skinny splattered arms milling and for a second it looks like she might make the rest of the way down the small hill sitting down. She rights herself at the last second with a lurch, springs, and is back on the ground again.

When she's righted enough to see who it is she lets out a breath and continues over. More sedate now and lifting a hand in greeting. The ball lies forgotten.

[K. R. J.] [Hmm. Sleeper Perception + Empathy, how WTF is this skinny chick?]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 5, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[K. R. J.] [How intimidating is my frown today?]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[K. R. J.] Vance's dog's name is Bambi, and when Zane comes dashing down the slope, Bambi circles around Vance's legs. Were Vance not well used to staying unentangled by the leash, he'd be tangled up now. Bambi's ears stay half-pricked, and her head stays high-lifted, revealing the tuft of white in the middle of her throat, just at her chest. Her tail lowers for a brief moment, then swishes.

Bambi, you see, is not on a leash because she's unfriendly, or even because she's skittish (although, shy, yes, a little, reserved), but because she's too fast and ignores her name if there's a squirrel in her lineofsight, even if that lineofsight is across a busy highway. When Zane comes over to make friends, Bambi seems amenable, and circles around the Bat-earred dog inquisitively, sniffsniff. A pause, to regard Ashley with dark steady eyes.

Kage says, "Hello, Zane," and gives him a pet. Ashley almost slips on the grass, and goes skidding the rest of the way down - this, folks, is the face of advanced Enlightenment in action - and Kage lifts a hand, in reply. Not a wave. Just a quiet lift of her hand, her fingers together. Diminished flamboyance. When Ashley's close enough to say hello to, she says, "Hey, 'ley. This is my Dad."

Vance, regarding Ashley, has a moment where a frown appears between his eyebrows. Ashley's resonant enough that Sleepers are beginning to notice, and today, Vance notices that there's something strange about Ashley. And there's something about his frown, brief though it is, which is essentially intimidating (oh god, don't be disappointed [oh god, what should I do]).

He changes the leash from his left hand to his right, and holds his left out for Ashley to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Lee," he says, and his voice is rather resonant, honey and amber, no caustic edge. "You can call me Vance."

[Ashley McGowen] Sleepers encounter Weird People, from time to time. With most magi something might strike them as a little off, or a little intense, if they're around them long enough. For a long time, intense was just how people pinned Ashley: I want, I Will, I will get. That time has passed, though. There's something in Ashley that tugs a little at the pit of the stomach, at the base of the brain, at the heart, something longing and bittersweet and determined to stay alive in spite of it. Sleepers, they might dismiss it as too thin or might be a little sick or her eyes are very blue, or maybe she reminds them of a time past, or there's an errant word from her mouth that brings that feeling to mind.

It's hard to say, really. She's just Weird.

As Ashley draws closer, Zane sniffs and wags his tail and greets Bambi and Ashley leaves the dogs to say hello. She does pick up the leash, just in case the shy dog should turn unfriendly. "Hi, Kage," she says, a little breathless.

She turns her gaze on Vance then, notes his frown and realizes, suddenly, how very muddy she is. Realizes that she looked more than a little hapless skidding down that hill. It isn't how dignified Hermetic Adepts carry themselves, even though this man does not know she is an Adept nor have any expectations of dignity.

Still, Kage says this is my dad, and Ashley smiles (she only smiles when it's genuine.) She extends a hand toward him to shake his: the wrong one, so it'll be clasped and shaken rather than shaken normally, and this is because the right one is covered in mud and grass and was throwing a ball her dog had been carrying in his mouth. "Ashley, actually," she says, breathing beginning to return to a normal rate. She's resisting the urge to grab at her side, at the bullet wound that only occasionally hurts now. "Nice to meet you, Vance."

[K. R. J.] "Ashley, then," he says, and that Ashley is Different, that Ashley is Off, Strange, hasn't yet faded far enough into the background that there's no trying to figure something out in the back of Vance's expression. He has hazel eyes, like and unlike Kage's. They're muddier, and shot through with more gray than green. The green is surprising, wherever it's evident. "We don't meet a lot of Kage's friends. Are you another academic? What's your field of study?" Vance has the gift of sounding truly interested in somebody's field of study, like it might be an interesting puzzle.

Kage has divided her attention between the dogs, Ashley and her father. She doesn't seem ready to step in and change the course of the conversation, but of course, she is. Nay; she seems composed. Kage isn't a teenager, and she doesn't find her Dad to be embarrassing. Well. Not usually embarrassing. "How are you doing, 'ley? The dog Zane's making friends with is Bambi."

Vance grins. "I lost that battle. I wanted to name her Beowulf."

[Ashley McGowen] He says he doesn't meet a lot of Kage's friends, which is much like the exchange Ashley heard between Margot and Kage when she met her sisters the beginning of the summer (God, lifetimes ago). It brings a wry smile to Ashley's face and a glance toward the redhead. Kage is attempting to change the subject, but she still answers. "I'm in grad school right now for sociology," she says. "Conflict theory, but I do a lot of work on the side in esoterics."

Ashley hasn't missed, either, that Vance can tell there's something Off about her. Some Sleepers have had that reaction for a while now, and now most notice, these days. It troubles her sometimes, that widening chasm, if the truth has to be said: but in the Order of Hermes resonance is something to take pride in, and her feelings are mixed, and it would be inappropriate to give voice to that disquiet. In the end that troubled air probably only lends itself further to that feeling she gives off.

"I'm okay," Ashley tells Kage, with the sort of brevity that says as okay as I can be. She smiles again, once, when Vance jokes about the dog's name and puts a hand forward for the grayhound to sniff. "Just, you know, tutoring and normal stuff mostly."

[K. R. J.] [Uh. Does my Dad-empathy go off that there's some Okay As I Can Beness? Not the most empathic of blokes.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[K. R. J.] [...Except apparently today.]

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley hasn't been sleeping and probably hasn't been eating well either. Maybe that's part of what seems off: her eyes are a little bloodshot and bruised. He has met grieving people before, and that is what this seems to be.

She is also feeling self-conscious. Maybe she knows she's weird.
to†K. R. J.

[K. R. J.] "Huh." Vance stands with his feet slightly apart, and he shifts his weight from one to the other. "What exactly does the study of conflict theory entail?" Ashley knows, already, that Kage's father is fairly educated, and interested in education, although not as educated as she is. The drizzle deepens, and Bambi sniffs carefully at Ashley's hand, once the greyhound realizes that it's being offered. Then Bambi walks around Vance's legs in a circle, again, unwinding the leash to do the same to Kage. Bambi's attention goes back to the Other Dog after this display of ownership.

"How's your star pupil?" Kage asks, before the conversation goes entirely to Ashley's thesis. She glances up, overhead, at the clouds and the sky, and says, "Maybe we should take this under a tree."

[Ashley McGowen] "Well, my thesis is about the interaction of supermemes," Ashley says, in the tone of someone used to explaining her thesis to laymen. "Or societally constructed ideas that build on things that have come before - communism, the advancement of science, that kind of thing - and how they fall out of favor or evolve based on rival ideas. Kind of a brand of social darwinism but on a larger scale, I guess you could say," she adds, with a wry smile.

Zane is not showing any signs of ownership. He is milling between the four other creatures he is sharing space with, trying to divide his attention (and get their attention). Ashley has, quite accurately, described him as an attention whore in times prior.

"She's okay," Ashley tells Kage. Kage suggests that they take it under a tree and the Hermetic looks between the other two, notices that they are not nearly as wet and muddy as she is. Advanced Enlightenment in action, indeed. There's a chagrined nod after a moment. Then, as she tugs Zane over toward the sprawling boughs of an oak, "She made a big jump ahead lately in her studies, so we're planning on where she's going to go from here."

[K. R. J.] "How are you going to continue working on your thesis when you're out of school?" he asks, and if it wasn't already clear, it should be evident now: Vance is a teacher. Really, he is. He's probably one of the teachers people like, too. When they're not scared of his Looks, which he's more than capable of wielding, or dating his daughters, members of the latter category having honed his nonspeaking intimidation factor to a nigh on thing of high art.

"Advise some big bad corporation on the way the wind is blowing, in terms of what ideas are likely to be hot?" And he is apparently something of a nonconformist. He glances at Kage, when she asks about Ashley's student, and listens to that part of the conversation with evident interest. He also pets Zane all he wants, with the confidence of someone who's actually spent a great deal of time around dogs (now that allergies are no longer a problem). "Do you know her student, Birdy?"

"Yes - " a brief glance, inscrutable; opaque. "She's a smart kid. When you say big jump, do you mean a big, big jump? High scores on test sort of jump?"

And to the tree they trail, one, two, three and two dogs.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley realizes that he is a teacher: it makes her comfortable with him. By and large she likes the people she knows who teach often, and she rather enjoys it herself. Once beneath the tree she reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes, off to the sides toward her temples. "That's more or less it," she tells him, when he asks her about advising big bad corporations. "Sociology has a lot of use in marketing, and I was a copywriter before I left to focus on school."

Another wry smile tilts her eyebrows then, and she wipes a hand free of mud and grass on her jeans and leans back against the rough bark of the tree. "I might stay in the safe bubble of academia, though. I haven't decided."

A glance toward Kage, and that smirk broadens when she hears Kage called Birdy: a brief light of curiosity. How does one get a nickname like that. "Yeah," she says, "I mean a big jump."

[K. R. J.] "With state budgets the way they are, I don't know how 'safe' the bubble of academia really is," Vance says, and his voice goes rumble-growly when he does. He's friendly, and well-liked, but he's also something of a curmudgeon. "But good for you, keeping your options open." He'd generally say more, but he's noticed that Ashley seems: delicate, grieving, somehow fragile. And he's far from a monster, Vance.

Kage is processing her surprise. Surprise, that Morgan has made a big jump. No pleasure evident, per se, although no displeasure, either. All in all, neutrality is the watchword. "You must be proud," she comments, at last. "And I wouldn't stay in Academia if I were you," Vance snorts, here. "All that paper grading. Preserve me from the undergrad's five paragraph essay."

[Ashley McGowen] It is probably fortunate that Ashley does not know Vance better, does not suspect that he is trying to be sensitive to her current state. It's one of the things that bothers her about showing grief, vulnerability, anything in that family: people go easier on you, won't say things that are on their minds. She makes a noise of assent when Vance grumbles about the state budgets. "Just means that candidates have to fight harder. Nothing wrong with that," she says.

If there's one thing she has confidence in (and there are, in fact, many) it's her academic prowess. That strangeness aids her, there.

Ashley notes Kage's surprise. She, too, was a bit surprised, and she seems to be showing a bit less pleasure than one would expect. There aren't any big smiles or glowing praises of her apprentice. "I don't mind paper grading," she says. "And yes. I am proud."

[K. R. J.] "We're supposed to be a civilized civilization," Vance replies. "Although of course, that's mostly a crock. We're no more civilized than the Byzantines, and the iconoclasts smashed priceless works of art. I don't object to people fighting for their position; I do object to understaffing a university when there are more than enough qualified people to fill those positions. Positions there is in fact a demand for. I also object to just kicking our old out into the streets once they've stopped adapting to whatever new theory is currently en vogue in Education Theory, but," and he grins, "I'm biased there."

A pause. And, "Birdy used to steal my student's papers and pretend to correct them."

"I did correct them," Kage says, virtuously.

"With unicorn stickers."

[Ashley McGowen] "Every civilized civilization has its uncivilized moments," Ashley says. "Conflict theory is pretty safe, as far as it going out of vogue. It's always going to be there to study." She reaches down to scratch one of Zane's ears.

"Besides, you can object, but competition is brutal. Evolution isn't pretty." It's hard to know whether she means natural theory or is applying it and means to draw the metaphor; in all likelihood she does indeed mean both. It is the tone of someone who has accepted (pragmatic, always) that they live in a harsh world, not someone who revels in the fact.

There's amusement at mention of the papers, a grin over at Kage. "Maybe the unicorn stickers were consolation for the marks," she says. "What do you teach? Are you a professor?"

[K. R. J.] "And there's always going to be some kid who wants to learn how to play the piano or the guitar, some kid who wants to learn how to paint, but the arts have definitely gone out of vogue in public school," Vance replies. "Don't mistake me. I'm not for giving handouts to lazy people, but society is only as strong as its weakest link, and just saying that competition is brutal and evolution isn't pretty to cover up destructive behavior on society's part is no good." He doesn't sound angry, do please note. He believes that there's a problem, very clearly, and there's definitely some grumpiness on behalf of the problem, but they're talking about the idea of the problem. There's no point in getting angry. "And, no. I teach High School History and English. And P.E., when they're short on subs during my free period."

Kage says, somewhere in all of that, "Let us not speak of unicorns, Ashley."

[Ashley McGowen] "Then there's a problem with the arts that's causing them to fall out of vogue," Ashley says, "and a purpose they aren't serving that they did once serve. Or a problem with how they're presented." Ashley also does not sound angry: she believes what she believes, and is convicted in that belief, but she enjoys intellectual debate.

A pause. "Don't get me wrong. I really appreciate the arts and think they're important. But what the humanities usually do in response to their way of thinking dying out is write papers and complain and sometimes talk on NPR. That isn't going to solve the problem."

History and English, he says, and Ashley gives him a nod, the sort that indicates he'd probably have been the sort of teacher she'd have liked, in high school. To Kage, she grins and says, "Your dad brought them up."

[K. R. J.] "The problem is it's easier to see a return in a standardized test for Mathematics or English than it is to see a return in an art class, where the product is generally a lot of apprentice-level art. And possibly better mental health for the kids who actually get to participate in that outlet, but again, that's a difficult thing to quantify in a presentation to investors, i.e., the public. Quite frankly, the hard sciences don't do much more in their own defense than write papers, conduct studies and complain. It's just easier to believe in a new diet fad than it is to believe in a kid who's not great at the drums being a happier, better person because of the chance learning the drums afforded him."

Kage has crouched down in order to better play with Bambi and Zane, whilst her father and Ashley debate. She has the aloof air of a cat who refuses to be drawn into this chasing after sparkly ball thing, in terms of the conversation.

[Ashley McGowen] "Happier and better are nice sentiments," Ashley says, "but they don't make much of a difference to people who are worried about...for example...educating them in such a way to make sure they're suited for jobs in a changing market. Those two values conflict and one of them gives. If people who value the arts more highly want more of a balance, they should formulate better arguments," Ashley says with a shrug. "Pathos won't get you very far."

She has noticed that Kage is reluctant to be lured in, doesn't try to pull her into the argument. This is because she knows Kage: knows that she's observing, knows that she will ask a pointed question either now or later. Never does she think that Kage is not listening.

[K. R. J.] "This is precisely my point, Miss... Uh," he misses a beat, for truly, he has gone into lecture mode, and last names are always good for that particular mode. He grins, "Ashley. I'm afraid we're living in another dark age, better healthcare and hygiene aside, where ignorance and laziness is rewarded. So few seem to want to reach for more than they've been taught to reach for, and even fewer get to enjoy the jobs they do find themselves with. There is still a demand for jobs with an emphasis on the Arts, but somehow, someway, that demand has become easy to ignore."

Kage's father doesn't seem to be about to lure Kage in, either. Kage strokes Bambi's ears, and Bambi rolls her eyes and moans in pleasure. Kage scritches Zane under the chin, and really, she's content enough, just playing with the dogs, and yes, listening.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley does not supply her last name when she pauses: she knows what he's trying to do by using her last name, senses it on some basic level. Besides, he's a Sleeper, and him knowing the first of her craft names is enough as it is. She still listens with more than just politeness; she's engaged. Having fun, even.

"Do you really think there was some golden age where the common man reached for more than he had?" she asks, with a tilt of her eyebrows. "Or enjoyed their jobs? We have more emphasis on the arts now than we've ever had. The competition encourages excellence, not the other way around. If they aren't happy they should be doing something to correct it so they are, not wait for someone to wave a magic wand."

Kage, of course, may wonder whether her choice of words is intentional. The answer is yes.

[K. R. J.] "No." He smiles, and glances down at Kage. "I am a realist, not an idealist - " Kage makes a restive sound. Doesn't interrupt, though. " - and I don't believe that the good old days are anything other than a myth. I'm not against competition or, if you will, conflict. But I am against competition and conflict just because of the oft-abused 'what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger' idea. There comes a point when constant conflict stops being useful and becomes instead a liability, a destructive force, when it becomes mindless and unnecessary. There are too many victims in that kind of system. And I don't think anybody really expects anyone to wave a magic wand and solve problems, other than rabid Harry Potter fans. As I recall, magic didn't help Harry very much. Or am I remembering wrong, Kage? I feel bad for monopolizing your friend."

"Don't feel bad," Kage says, a little archly, all told. "I am monopolizing the dogs. Just don't expect to suck me in with Harry Potter references. I don't remember how those books ended."

[Ashley McGowen] Traditionalists, and often Hermetics in particular, are often given this stereotype: they romanticize an older time, the old ways, think that things were better back then. It isn't always true; in fact, it often is not. Ashley has a different take on what the old days were than some of her Traditionmates.

"There are a lot of victims in any system," she says. "There's always stratification, and it's hard to see but it's a good thing in the end. I mean, I'd maintain constant conflict already exists and always will, whether it's the environment or each other. We're set up to fight because that's what..." She pauses. Does not say Wills, searches instead for an appropriate metaphor. "That's what life does."

A glance toward Kage, once. She didn't miss that arch tone, wonders at it. But not for long.

[K. R. J.] "I'd say we're set up to fight because we're taught to fight," Vance says, and then: "Except, of course, we aren't taught to fight. We're taught to accept. Your argument presupposes that the destination is the point, not the road."

"We're set up to build," Kage says, "And to live, and we make different things out of life. I think Ashley will probably have to worry about the financial security of a job in Academia, but she'd have the same worries in any other job. There's a lot to worry about, if you let yourself."

[Ashley McGowen] "It does presuppose that," Ashley says, fairly, "but that's a presupposition that can't really be argued for or against. It isn't a blanket statement anyway. Some people fight, some accept, and the people who fight are the ones who succeed."

A look toward Kage once, when she finally steps in. Her brow furrows at what Kage says as she considers, tries to figure out the relation of worries and conflict. "I'm not worrying," she tells Kage.

[K. R. J.] Kage -- a crooked smile, lopsided thing: "I know you aren't."

And Vance, he's shaking his head. "I'll grant that the ones who fight have a better chance of -- hm. Having their interests noticed. But people don't like to fight. When somebody is too vocal, they'll drag him down, until he's nice and peaceful again. There may be something to 'worry' over," this, he says to his daughter; a pause, a grin, "in the doggy sense, if you'd like, Ashley, "regardless of path, but that doesn't change the fact that it's criminal to just leave things as they are. Sadly, as a realist, I'm not an advocate of hope."

"Just of drama, hm?" Kage says, tucking a strand of redred hair behind her ear.

[Ashley McGowen] Somewhere, dimly, in the back of her mind Ashley has the idea that there might be some subtext here that she's missing. She can't quite wrap her head around it, can't quite read from the words alone what that might be or what might be going on. There's a slight pause as she looks from one to the other.

And then decides to breeze right past it. But she's still uncertain enough to say, "I don't mind the debate," before she glances back at Vance to answer him.

"You don't have to leave things as they are," she tells him. "I'm saying prove your idea and put it forward and make it better than the others."

[K. R. J.] There is subtext. Of course there's subtext. They're family. There are old arguments. There are new arguments. There is always something. Kage has known her Dad for her entire life. Vance has known his middle daughter for a great portion of his. The greater, even. Vance says, "An individual can only do so much. An idea can do so much more. Whether or not one 'has' to leave things as they are isn't, in the end, up to them at all. I'm enjoying the debate as well. You seem very intelligent, Ashley. I - " and it's at this point that his cellphone goes off, and Vance holds up a finger, then hands Bambi's leash off entirely to Kage, and turns away from the girls to answer it. The call will be brief.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley raises her eyebrows, waits, prepares to make her rejoinder. She has one; she always has one. Regardless of the pleased smile that tugs at a corner of her mouth when Vance tells her she seems very intelligent (Ashley is used to having to work hard for these things at best, more used to not hearing them), she still has one.

Then he gets the call, and he holds up his finger and makes his way off. Ashley reaches down to pet first Zane, then Bambi, with a look over toward Kage. "I like your dad," she says. And then, "How are you?"

[K. R. J.] "He's not too bad," Kage says, of her Dad. Because he isn't. Kage doesn't have more than is normal (what's normal, in a dark world like this?) angst. Kage gets along, more or less, with her family, although she doesn't spend most of her waking hours with them. "He's kind of grumpy today, because Cary didn't opt for his choice of cake for the adults at Michaela's birthday." There; a brief, sardonic curve of her mouth. Almost radiant, that brand of sardonicism.

And: A beat. Kage glances at her Dad. Says, "I'm okay. Went on a mission of peace with Israel and T. H. the other day, for that shindig of planning and maze-attacking. Went well." And then, Vance is stepping back, folding the cellphone into his hand, and dropping it back into his pocket. He looks sheepish: "That was your mother," he tells Kage. "She wants us to pick up some corn on the way home. I'm afraid we should go."

Kage -- lets the 'we' pass by, for now, although she raises her eyebrows at her Dad, and considers how best to not be involved in a family dinner. While Kage is doing that, Vance says, "Nice talking to you, Ashley. And nice meeting you, Zane."

[Ashley McGowen] "Cake? Really?" Ashley asks, with a glance toward Kage's father. It seems like a small thing to be grumpy about, to Ashley. Of course, these things are always more complicated than they seem, but she tends to take what's said, after all.

Listens to what Kage says about the mission of peace and nods, just briefly. "I'm glad you're okay," is what she has time to say before Vance reappears. There's a look to him, a look to Kage, before they both get a nod. "Good to meet you too, Vance," she says, and then gives Bambi a pat on the head.

To Kage, there's just a "Talk to you soon," before she realizes that it's getting dark, and she's going to have to hunt around for the ball somewhere in the grass. Resigned, she pushes herself away from the tree.