(paused)

[Israel Cohen] [[Corr 3. Traveling. Diff: 7. -1 Foci, -1 Practiced, -1 Taking Time. 3 needed.]] WP
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 8 (Success x 1 at target 3) [WP]

[Israel Cohen] [[o-HO! So THIS is how you'll play it???]]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 9 (Success x 1 at target 4) [WP]

[Israel Cohen] [[For fucks sake... I WILL EAT YOUR YOUNG!!!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 2, 2 (Failure at target 4)

[Israel Cohen] [[BITCH!!!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 7, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 4)

[Israel Cohen] [[DOX]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Israel Cohen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 1, 8 (Failure at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] [?]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Israel Cohen] In the usual run of events Israel wouldn't consider this means of arriving at a friends home. She is not given to Weaving and Working, simply for its own sake; not outside of honing her skills. But with all that's been going on, to say that she is being extremely cautious is an understatement... and she would sooner try to hurl herself down a Caul than flippantly endanger a stranger, let alone a friend.

It comes at a price, though. And comes harder sometimes; for the weariness seeped into her bones. [again. again because Israel gives and pushes and gives some more; because she was slow to learn the value of pacing herself in these situations; because what Drives her is a a dire force and when it pushes hard enough to crush she tells herself that real rest and ease can come later... later... sometime later.]

She has to fight the Consensus; fight the iron grasp of a Reality that has precious little room for Wonder - tonight she fights even more strenuously than normal so that when at last Kage can sense that rippling and broadening and mirage-like crescendo and decrescendo of the living rooms spatial coordinate being infiltrated; the Working has a ragged edge to it and rapidly on it's heels there is that impact without sound or visible force -- it's felt though; by those attuned to it. The aftermath. The consequences. An impact in the earth; the air; the gnostic senses.

[When I get there, she'd warned on the phone. Stay clear of the living room. I'll take a hit for it; no need for you to get bludgeoned along with me.]

That's what it feels like: Being bludgeoned. She's bracing herself for it even as she steps into the space, using the hand carved, long, thin [stronger than it looks] cane for added support. But braced as she is she fails to absorb the blow... staggers to one side with a low grunt and a wince, losing a sense of her surroundings [always drenched in pitch] so that her free arm sweeps out....
...looking decidedly more out of sorts and vulnerable than she normally manages.

"Dammit." Rarely does she actually curse -- so that word, for her, is much like someone else spewing vulgarities at the top of their lungs. It's spoken with a frustrated hiss; a flinch of swallowed down pain and...

...she steadies herself. "Tunnels. We need underground warded tunnels, so the next time I have to avoid leading a tail right to your house I can scurry down the hobbit tunnel and come see you that way..." The attempt at dry humour is wan... but passable.

[K. R. Jakes] [Kitten: WTF? Hide!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[K. R. Jakes] Kage waited for Israel on her couch. The living room itself was easy to clear; just move the chest and music stand against the wall. Unroll the carpet; cast the threadbare (cushion [for knees and toes]) rug wide, across the bare hardwood floors. Kage had been beginning to wonder if everything was all right. Kage had been beginning to wonder the sort of things one wonders when one's teleporting friend is late. Traffic jam, accident on the highway, delay leaving the house, lost keys, translates to the boundary is strong and watchful, or, paradox said, No, No, No, and when she ran into it, folded her up into Nothing, oh shit, or, couldn't pick a shirt, after all, or, can't find her ritual honey or oil or staff.

... There. There she is. Kage's legs are curled beneath her, and on her lap, there is a kitten with harvest moon eyes, a scruff licked up on his forehead, blacktipped ears. The kitten was content, drowsing, its teensy tail wrapped tight around its rabbit-y backlegs. Israel appears out of thin air, and the kitten startles up, digging its claws into Kage's lap like only by spilling her blood will everything be okay, it clings, and ...

Doesn't flee. Kage winces, and tries to detach the kitten claws so she can stand, and the kitten stares at Israel. Then at the point of her staff, nearest the floor. Israel hears Kage speak from a couple of feet -- maybe three feet; four? -- in front of her, voice low, throaty, silverburnished, cool with sympathy for the visible blow, and wry, because this is Kage:

"Even whatshisname had to pop into Hobbitown with his staff a'ready. I don't think Gandalf had much luck with hobbit tunnels." The kittens claws come out of Kage's leg with an audible cr-r-rr-r and she deposits the curling thing on top of the couch back, and stands, steps forward, and Israel can feel this:

Kage's hand on her wrist. Kage never grabs Israel, hastily; never is quiet, before. "And even if you had to come like a spy in the night, I'm glad to have you here. What about some tea? Or some wine?"

[Israel Cohen] A grimace; she moves to turn towards Kage's voice; acclimating herself again; slowly. The tense grip on the cane loosens slightly, just enough so the grip isn't tight enough to press knuckles against thin flesh, turned white. It is a feeling she hates: Disorientation. It minds her too much of the first days [no, be honest -- the first months, closer to the first year] when she'd yet to learn how to fully cope with her new blindness mundanely. She can feel it surge up like it used to: That sharp metal taste - adrenaline - of the first warning of potential panic. The urge to Weave Sight about her; the pattern-work low-lights of Correspondence; to use it like a crutch because she was afraid.

...it only lasts a moment though. A moment. A grimace. Then she's chuckling softly, schooling her features and shaking her head, blind gaze never wavering from a fixed point of.. nothing. "'A spy in the night' is only, I think, applicable in this situation were you comparing me to the Pink Panther." That the Working was hard doesn't seem to leave her feeling embarrassed and even frustration is fleeting. Pushed back with other things better left to slow, private contemplation. Kage's touch at her wrist is slow and for that she is grateful -- she barely tenses this time, though the slightest motion of it does exist before she breathes it out; exhales it from her form as she exhales out other such foibles and quirks.

Her smile is gossamer, but pliant and earnest: "I'm glad to be here."

Then, "Oh wine. Yes. Wine. An entrance like that deserves wine..."

...she sniffs the air then and tilts her head, piecing together odd sounds heard in passing before. "...do you have a pet now?"

[K. R. Jakes] Ah. The apartment. This is what it smells like today: apples, juicy but crisp; apples, golding in bowls; apples, and rum, and nectarines; things baked earlier, and gone. The apartment: this is what it smells like, today, to Israel who is so sensitive; it smells of anise, of a masculine cologne (light [sharp]), and it smells of candles, blown out. And it feels like ardency, kindling unto a burning; like a draining. And the apartment smells like a little animal. Animal smell. Israel can't see the kitten who, atop of the couch, is still watching her, leaning out, sniffsniffsniffing its little nose and kneading its paws (lion's, just like its siblings) into the back. When Israel turns her head in the kitten's direction, it straightens, stretching its neck out, then hunkers down, lifting its little hips in the air to give them a wriggle. If there weren't such a gap between, Israel would find herself pounced. The kitten's tongue is coming out to rest between its sharp, sharp teeth.

"Not exactly," Kage says, glancing over her shoulder, in time to watch the kitten concocting its Get To Israel And Investigate plans. It utterly ignores Kage's warning look. Her thigh aches where its needles pierced skin, and there's a tiny stain of blood on the back of her dress, and she rubs it. "My sister has decided my niece should have a kitten for her birthday, so I'm hiding it. I apologize in advance for anything it does to your ankles."

The Orphan gives Israel a light hug; touches cheek to cheek (brief [prayer] greeting), and it is surety, and gentle, because Israel'd staggered under the boundary, and then Kage lets go entirely. "The couch is just a step behind me; sit down, please. Do you want me to reorientate you?" A beat, and --

People are warm. They give off [fire (flame)] a shining, and Kage's diminishes, as far as Israel can sense, when she steps sideways. Mischief touches her voice, "Wine it is. Red or white?"

The kitten mews its wanting (longing). The sound it makes is a questioning little meeeeeeer? as of, what of me?

[K. R. Jakes] [Kage OMFG kittens.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Failure at target 10)
to†K. R. Jakes

[K. R. Jakes] [Ashley: OMFG Kittens]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 5, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Failure at target 10)
to†K. R. Jakes

[K. R. Jakes] [Riley OMFG Kittens!!!!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 6, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 10)
to†K. R. Jakes

[K. R. Jakes] [OMFG kittens - Nathan]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 6, 8, 8, 9 (Failure at target 10)
to†K. R. Jakes

[Israel Cohen] There is a full spectrum of the senses Israel uses to compensate for the loss of one [the one that, alas, just so happens to be that which most humans depend upon the most]. So scents are more than a bouquet of olfactory sensation: They are indications and guides. Pathways. Scents can whisper of things a Sighted person might pick up on in a different way. So a faint current of soap suds from where the scents of harvest delights waft can mean there are dishes soaking or dishes just finished. And other things that the seeing might miss, in their dependancy on just one core sense to get bye: Like anise and candle smells and masculine cologne [does she have a someone? the thought would be pleasing if true]

Scents can track and place, especially clinging scents; body scents. Some are... less pleasant, but no less useful.

Sound is the strongest of her compensations and so the schink-pluck-schink of kitty nails in fabric out can guide her to turn her ear towards kitten and its curiosity and its contemplation of the distance of the leap. Those are things unknown toher, outside of the scope of past experience with tiny felines...

...so Kage mentions a kitten and Israel beams. No, not vigorous -- the softness of her voice extends to her manner; she is simply not a loud person in any way. But to beam is to say her countenance--
[so often tinged with sorrow, just-laced with hope. a knowing compassion, but a reserve as well -- because it hurts you see, the things she feels. Ashley struggles to keep Hunger at bay... Israel diverts similar energy to keep the Ache from drowning her.
Drowning has stolen enough as it is]
--her countenance lightens [lights up] and her lips curve with a ripple of simple-pleasure warmth. "That'll be a lovely gift."

There is a light hug - Israel responds and presses just enough closer and Kage can tell she's warmer. Literally. Her hands especially which rise to lightly find and cup Kage's cheek that doesn't touch to her own. The kind of warmth that radiates beckoningly, soothingly from stones prepped for massage. That is new, yes. "No, I'll gather my bearings after a sit down..." To the question of reorientation and then, for the wine, "Red, please."

As she moves for the couch, careful to feel about to make sure she isn't about to sit on said kitten who is all meeeer and blissfully egocentric. Ttsk, tssnk, noises that are a suck-click of the tongue against the roof of her mouth, soft and beckoning to the feline. Inviting investigation and attentions...
...and a touch of warm, fuzzy, so-exquisite new Life, to use like a natural charm as she briefly focuses her attentions on healing some of Paradox's damage...

"...how have you been, Kage? I'm sorry it's been so long since we've gotten together again." She is. Would that she couldhave spent August doing work and working on her next book and studying and making love and playing with nieces and nephews and debating chantry policies and sipping wine with Kage and... and... and...
...she doesn't say 'I've been busy' -- it wouldn't begin to suffice. And she isn't here in search of bearing her soul.

Sometimes simple relaxation and companionship is a far more needed therapy.

------------
[[Life 2. Diff: 5. -2 Healing Merit.]] WP
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 3) [WP]

[K. R. Jakes] [Israel OMG KITTEN? -1 diff, she can't *see* it, she can only *feel* its rays of adorableness.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 5, 7, 7 (Failure at target 9)
to†Israel Cohen

[K. R. Jakes] [... You shall bow before my mighty strength, wine cork!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] [Kitten: EEE NIMBLE FINGER ATTACK!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[K. R. Jakes] Kage invited Israel over for a number of reasons. Because she likes the other (Discipled) Orphan and the days have been dark (sad [a labyrinth of misery]) is one of them. Kage does not have a compassionate heart, per se, but she values compassion, and she values those she has connected with in the past. Kage would see the strong and bright bolstered; not crushed into the ground. (Go on, be a hero. Test me.) Because she, adjacent to just liking Israel, knows that Israel's birthday was the same day the White Fence House was attacked, the wards fell, and Kage (non-member) was called to help cleanup. Maybe they'd seen each other, then, if Israel and Solomon descended afterward on the Chantry, but if so, it had been a brief moment, and not a time for gift-giving. And because Kage is good at her job, which has always been to find knowledge, or paths to knowledge, and Israel might be able to point to a path, and she should be asked before (something [happens] bad things).

From the kitchen, these sounds: glass against other glass; clink, cling, kiss of bottles that collect shade. From the kitchen, this sound: counter, glass; more glass, lighter, delicate, a thing of fire and earth which masquerades as air. From the kitchen, this sound: sharpness, pushing into cork. Hitch of breath, catching just behind Kage's curled up tongue, and then released once the cork starts to slip out of the neck. New bottle, fresh.

"I hope so," Kage replied, reserved. Would've been the perfect segue into and speaking of gifts, but no. Kage holds her cards close to her chest. Cards like birthday gifts. "She's turning six, and I suspect will be naming it something like Raja or Pony. I just hope it doesn't mean war at my sister's house, as Sampson is not getting a dog for his birthday."

Before she sits, Israel feels about, to make certain she's not about to sit on a kitten. And that's how she finds it. The kitten watches the blind woman's hand and then in a joyful burst of energy hikes its tail up in the air, gives a wriggle of its butt, then leaps both paws outstretched and lands a little short so tumblerollrollrolls into Israel's wrist. Just before she sits. The kitten rights itself, and rears back, tailfur all spiky, to pounce Israel's fingers with both paws and hold her down. As soon as she disentangles them, it sinks low on the couch cushion, watchfully. When she does manage to sit, the kitten retreats for a moment, but only for a moment. Never routed, this one! It instantly climbs into Israel's lap, and starts trying to climb up her torso, putting a paw delicately on one of her breasts, and reaching the other up, up, for a tendril of her hair. It says: Meer?

"And don't apologize," Kage says, and wryness is a thread of smoke in her voice. Israel can hear the wine being poured into glasses, slowly. "Last month was difficult for a lot of people. That said, I'm sorry, as well. I ... have been," a pause, and a smile. Israel can't see that, either, but smiles -- they touch a voice; warm it up, make it candesce, "well in spirit, although considerably rumpled in mind. How is your family? And your cabalmate?"

Kage, see, doesn't ask Israel how she is (yet). Likely because she knows Israel can't be very well, but she's here, and that's enough for now. Kage ... is courteous, ever. And there, a presence at Israel's shoulder, Kage clears her throat so that Israel knows, and puts the glass of wine into the blindwoman's hand.

[Israel Cohen] [[small animal attacking my hand out of pitch darkness! Dex + Ath. +2, -1]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Israel Cohen] [[WE ARE EVENLY MATCHED MEIN SMALL SPARRING PARTNER]]

[K. R. Jakes] [Kitten: MEEEEEER MEERMEER!]


[Israel Cohen] Her humoured sound is a low thing; it is huskier than her speaking voice which is light and breathy, not husky [except at certain moments, like just waking or just sleeping, and other such things that most often occur in bedrooms] but when she laughs - even quietly as she does now - it rises up from the belly, from the diaphragm; not boisterous but enough to flex the vocal chords ; throaty and rich in a small package. Kage cannot see her smile - the kitten receives the smile while she plays her hand for its continued challenge and feels the strike-out-of-nowhere, just barely anticipated.
"There is always war in every house; even in peace -- but good battles. The right ones. Sampson..." it rolls off her tongue and there is pleasure there. "Good to know my family isn't the only one with a fondness for old and odd names."

Meer, says the kitten. Now on her lap; now with hind paws on the bare slope of her belly and one paw at one curve of breast; olive kissed skin that might be directly assaulted by claws without barrier of cloth -- the dark turquoise shirt with its black pinstripes is unbuttoned at the top. It bats for hair and lord knows there is plenty of that to be had. Her hair, unbound as it is now, falls well past her waist. She didn't blow dry it today so the natural curls and waves of it are left to riot; the mass of it heavy enough to keep it from being poofy at least; the curls loose, not tight and oh-such-a-temptation for clever kitten claws. Her gaze is turned ahead; no pretense of looking down at the kitten; but her hands lift and sensitive fingertips explore gently.
Meer?, says Mr. Kitty and Israel's response is in Herbrew, with an arched eyebrow and lips tilted askance with something ironic, some confidence spoken between the two of them.

There is a cleared voice - but in truth it wasn't needed. She coudl hear the approach; could catch the scent of what has swirled and wafted and suffused itself into Kage's person throughout the day and what is just herself, just her own scents. So she's already ready to lift a hand to receive the glass, and her thank you is also in Hebrew because she's caught in the moment... but the most basic words of gratitude are universal things.

A passing frown [well of spirit, although considerably rumpled in mind], concern and, ah, yes, there, that compassion; quietly. In this also she doesn't broadcast -- but like a quiet voice that causes a others to fall hushed so they can hear; so to does her soft mannerisms underscore a sincerity; an earnestness not so easily found. Face turned toward Kage, the questions there...
...but unspoken. And a flicker of something else, too. A knowing. She's spoken to Ashley, see, and when Ashley mentioned certain topics there was a mention of Kage as well and... yes.
Yes.

"My family..."
...she frowns: Regret. And deeper than that, protective ire. "Are lying low. It wasn't safe to keep them in our home right now. Caleb - you met his brother, Jacob, the elder twin - was with us that Friday night... we were in another battle when the Chantry was attacked," Or they would have been there, not only to check on the aftermath. And things might have gone different. And a good woman might still be alive.
...there are no real victories where the Nephandi are concerned.

"My cabalmate -- which one?" Pushing away the concern and [beneath it all] ferocity where her family is concerned, her lips curve mildly, "Ashton is well. Solomon and Nathan and I spend the majority of our time together -- we all have reason to play it safe and so we keep to numbers as much as we can. But we are all here and whole." In body, at least.
But that is something.

A breath... she dips her head down to nuzzle the tip of her nose over the fluff and puff of kitten stuff on her chest... then smiles again towards Kage [with lovely hazel eyes that never make that real connection -- that never have so long as Kage has known her] lifting her glass. "L'Chaim."

To life.
She says it firmly.

[K. R. Jakes] "Ha." This, for old and odd names; Kage has made her peace with Kage, but it was not always so. "His father was named after Cary Grant," Kage says, and her tone is dinted with an aloof fondness: she likes her brother-in-law (lawyer [fair]). "He was glad to choose a name with more resonance." A beat. And, wry, "Sampson certainly likes it; he won't brook anyone calling him Sammy or Sam."

This. Tactile. Israel explores the miniscule life (new [born]) in her lap with gentle fingertips. This: soft-as-ashes, eider-down soft. This: its fur is thick around its neck, a miniature ruff, and there are tiny tufts at the tip of its ears, the delicate ticklery of whiskers, and as with all baby kittens, fuzzy, fuzzy, not near silk, not for a long time, not that coat. And beneath the fur, delicate little kitten ribs, rising up and down, up and down, its heartbeat quickquickquickquick as it explores Israel, pawing with surprising gentility after its mischief with her hand at the loose curls.

After whatever it is she says in Hebrew, it sits back on its haunches, although still in her lap, and watches her hair move when she turns to accept the wine glass from Kage. The tip of its tail twitches like a livewire. Then it moves forward, again, pressing one dainty paw against Israel's belly. A pause, and it subsides again. Then it walks in a circle, and settles down. It begins to hum, full-throated, loud, like that annoying motorcyclist outside at 3 am, loud, like affection should be. Its paws are tucked under its chest, and its eyes are slit.

Kage does not immediately take a seat; instead, she crosses the living room floor, an empty expanse, and goes to the soundsystem, presses play, releases [Early Music] gentle sound. For a half-a-moment it is too, too loud; as good as hearing a band [but of strings, of chitarra and harp and older violas] live. Then she turns it down so it's just a gentle current behind the apple-sweet apple-spiced air they're breathing, the wine-redolence that sea-mists above the glasses full of red. After, she joins Israel on the couch; takes a seat on the opposite end. And Israel can hear this: the waft of fabric, brush against shins, calves, the soft hushskid of rug against the floorboards, when it wrinkles.

Then: cushions, sinking. Whisper, fabric, skin: it's got its own language.

And Kage: she saw the passage of that frown; she saw the touch of compassion. Kage: is not ignoring the unworded question; she is only reserving answers; her own questions: there was a flicker; what? Not yet. "But is he well? Jacob - I mean, Caleb?" Israel can heal: Kage knows this. Has tasted the honey on her tongue. Has broken the seal. Still. " - I hope they stay safe. At least they're not unable to defend themselves. Please give my regards to Jacob, and the rest of them." The one she's met. Kage is courteous. See? A beat. And, "I suppose your birthday wasn't so much a 'Hey, we're celebrating the birth of Y[-name-Jess-forgets-but-Kage-wouldn't] Israel Cohen day as a 'we're celebrating, because it's hard to stay alive, but thank fuck, we've done it' day."

Kage's eyebrows go right up. "I wasn't aware T. H. had joined the Guardians; I meant Solomon. But it sounds as if you're being wise. I would've said boys could have hung out," humor, amused, "in the study while we had girl time, if I'd known." He-who-Kage-only-interacts-with-at-doom-meetings. L'Chaim, Israel says, and Kage touches the lip of her wineglass to Israel's, and says, "To renewal, and replenishment of resources, and the heart to appreciate life."

[Israel Cohen] [[pause for zee much needed sleeps!]]

[K. R. Jakes] [Witness this!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[K. R. Jakes] [.... wah. *reaches, forlornly after*]

[Mish Witnessing] WITNESSED!



[Israel Cohen] There is settling.
That of the kitten on a welcome, graciously inviting lap.
That of the guest, finger tips exploring kitten-fuzz and feeling the strong vibrations of kitten-contentment; settling into sofa cushions and breathing a sigh. Slow. Lingering. Glasses of wine. Aroma, bouquet. Earth things; harvest memories.
Settling - a new weight, to the other end of the furniture; the mistress of the house, taking her own repose; her own respite.

Israel's Resonance from her [oh, lord, what a shambles that was.] unorthodox entrance is starting to fade - finally - slowly; so that Sorrow no longer drapes but hums, bittersweet lullabies on the lips of mothers who have seen too much war, too much famine, too long the cries of children alive and gone. It's the Sorrow you never let wreck and ruin you; but it marks you; it makes you.

To renewal, and replenishment of resources, and the heart to appreciate life.
She can drink to that.
With solemnity [determination?], she does.

"Yeah, he'll be alright," Caleb, she means. "He has a son and another child on the way..." her hand lifts from kitten-flesh to rub fingers over one check, an absent gesture, a small grimace. "His wife wasn't pleased with me. Not, mind you, that I blame her." She doesn't. She'd chastised herself unbearably for allowing her cousin to come; for nearly losing him; for nearly facilitating a moment where more children might need to grow up fatherless. "But they are all safe now."
A firmness. Conviction. She must believe this. She must be certain of it so she can tend to... other matters.

...a birthday celebration wasn't high on that list. So the curve of her lips is like a shrug; echoes that motion in her shoulders and she sips her wine. "God will, there will be other birthdays. That's present enough, yeah?"

'T.H' makes her eyebrows furrow; dark arches scrunching together above the uppermost line of her nose until she places the most likely candidate for the nick name. "Nathan? Why do you call him T.H.? "

[K. R. Jakes] [Char + Expression ... for, uh.... something.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[K. R. Jakes] The Orphan (ardent [immanent]) traces a figure eight on the couch for the kitten to chase (hunt), and she nods (although Israel cannot see it) in response (counter-beat, counter-rhythm) to Israel's conviction; says, grave, but (earnest) honest - "Some deeds, well. There's little pleasure in them, but they still want doing." This is meant to bolster; to shore up. To support that conviction. There's always, or almost always, a note of yearning, when Kage says want; it's a word that touches chords.

And then, well. Israel, who can feel the kitten begin to slink out've her lap, delicate, delicate, delicate, careful, careful, careful, is well attuned to sound, to nuance, and Kage's tone becomes the child of Innocence Incarnate and Nonchalance Manifest. "Is it present enough; really? Oh, no. That's very disappointing. I don't - I don't want to overburden you."

A beat, and - "I call him T. H. because he stuck a gun in my face." Kage doesn't sound particularly angry; just wry. "When I gracelessly bumped into his train seat. I believe he may have cocked the trigger, before telling me how lucky I was he was quick on his something. The nickname seemed appropriate."

[Israel Cohen] There is want and there is duty and most blessed of all - she's known this for some time now, but had it reaffirmed of late - is when each becomes one and the same; each compliments; each drives. Enough - just enough - to make other burdens lighter; to make other wants more attainable; other duties more palatable.

"Ah... 'Trigger Happy', yes?" A touch of wry; a bit of acceptance; that all follows a momentary cringe at the recounting of Nathan in his... earlier days in Chicago. "I like to think he's come a good way from those first days... then again, with Solomon as a role model maybe he's only learned to be less overt in his paranoia." Were she more inclined to use such gestures anymore she might roll her eyes; with all fondness, but an eye roll none the less. Her men. Her friends. Her compatriots.
Yes, of course she often wants to whack their heads together.

The kitten is being teased; and he's not the only one. Oh, no, not at all. A small feline body all fur and fuzz and clean-mammal scents; clean-infant scents, more robust than human infant but with that tracery of milk and youth and tenderness all the same. Feline body slinking and poised, little whiskers twitching; large eyes rapt on the motion of a finger, tracing figure 8's... a whisper of flesh on fabric; light pressure and pattern. Israel can imagine the eyes, the expectant anticipation of the hunt and it draws a broad smile; a laugh that's a hum in her throat... and a raised eyebrow and...
...a wriggle of her nose. "Mmm-hmm... well, there," the nose wriggle that is. "That's the closest I can get to whiskers a'quiver with curiosity; but you have my attention Lady Sly."
...and because it's her nature too, yes, a slight flush; a ripple of pleased surprise and, "Did you get me something? You needn't have, Kage... but thank you..." Softer words; airy things because her voice has that breathy quality, but the foundation of gratitude and feeling moved is so much stronger than her gossamer build would indicate.

[K. R. Jakes] [Oh man, don't giggle. You are a self-contained Orphan city-renowned for your composure!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Israel Cohen]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[Israel Cohen] [[wtf? where did that come from?]]

[Israel Cohen] [[either way - not a bad roll! *keeps it!*]]

[K. R. Jakes] Israel would like to think that Nathan's come a long way since the early days. The Orphan shrugs; it's an irreverent gesture, easy, means nothing; a Word that has no signifier. Motion, and unseen because of it. Kage says, neutral, "He hasn't menaced me with a gun for months now." A beat; the sort've guileless mischief one can hear (and there's a shining, in it; something contained, cupped, water glinting light), and it touches on gravity, as well: "But I think you're probably right. And I am all for the less overt form of paranoia." There; self-aware wryness, for certain.

And it all dissipates, all fades, into something entirely Guileless, sans mischief, sans gravity, no tone at all, just that air of Wondering, of blank snow, unkissed, untouched, uncaressed, virginal Purity, darling, witness it in action now -

"Why, Israel," and it is difficult for Kage not to giggle, but she manages not to. Manages to keep the laughter, locked away; burning in her chest, behind her ribs, unstoked. Her tone is steady, almost stern, "I? Get you something? You mean you don't want a kitten?" A beat. A long beat. Enough of a beat for Israel to think Kage is serious, before she says, relaxing into an easy - "I jest. This guy isn't an advertisement. And I did get you something. And you say I didn't have to, but really, I think I did. I just hope you like them. Do you want to open your gifts now?"

Kage is sitting up straight, now. Not wriggling in anticipation, but certainly alert, poised, hunter-leaning toward the boxes, over on the dining room table.

[Israel Cohen] For a moment - for just one dangerous, horrible moment... it could almost seem Israel is about to fall for this act. And, oh, at what a cost! Note, then, the effect of such Guilelessness; such lack of mischief; all sobriety and that almost-stern. Unseeing eyes are still expressive and for a moment there is the first dawning of a feared blunder; of having unwittingly been obtuse to a possible gift all there for the touching and playing and warmth-fuzz-purr-enticement. Unseeing eyes that widen with the beginnings of surprise, to which will directly follow chagrin, because Kage did give Ashley a kitten, didn't she? And maybe she just thought Israel needed one too and oh, there you go, Israel, seeming all ungrateful at such a sweet gesture and...

...I jest.

She blinks then; blinks that growing self-chastisement and taken-aback and oh-no-did-I-miss-the-hints?! -- blinks it away and laughs where Kage doesn't, a sound of pure relief. "Don't do that. Oh for the love of..." A grimace again, but this is good humored, the vexed quality shallow, obviously for show. "You are very lucky the only objects at hand to hurl at you are an innocent kitten... and, well, wine stains." Judicious, that. "But oh, were fate not so fickle..."

...she sits up then, too, not as much but in response to motions felt and heard and sensed from the other side; curiosity and a little ripple of pleasure and, yes, alright, a touch of wariness as well and... "Yes, please, but remember.... I might change my mind about the wine."