[Wharil Choc]
One would assume that Wharil Choc had a day job. Few knew the precise details of what that day job was, but he had a car and a place to stay in the city, and utility bills to pay, and obviously enough money for a collection of dress shirts and slacks. Yeah, all that had to come from some nine-to-five somewhere.
Only its eleven o'clock and, beneath the coat he's in his jeans and a sweater, melting snow dripping off his boots as he knocks heavily on Ashley's door.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley has a day job. Did. She's talked about it with a few people, and is often in casual business dress when he's caught her in the evenings. She attends class and is working on her master's degree. For these tasks, that air of hunger and ambition about her has actually been beneficial - it intimidates subordinates and it gives her bosses and professors the impression that she's willing to work hard, that she has drive. And that's true.
What they like less is when she does not show up for three days after the new year without calling and then looks pale, sick, and jittery. Haunted. With a pervasive sense of taint they can't put their fingers on. One of them was concerned, said they didn't want to know what she was using and suggested that she get help.
When she answers the door it is clear that something is wrong, and if possible, she looks even worse than she did when he saw her last. Her face is drawn, she's lost weight and there's still that sense of wrongness about her, which actually seems to have gotten worse.
"Wharil," she says, surprised, and then steps aside to let him in.
[Wharil Choc]
The first thing he mutters is a not so quiet, whispered Sh-it. Upon seeing her, then he walks in through the door, takes off his coat, and tosses it on the couch haphazardly.
Here was something he should have been takig care of. here was something he should have followed up on. Ashley wasn't Euthanatos. Which wasn't to say she was somehow more succeptible to the death taint, but somehow he figured she'd never actually had a talk on methods for dealing with it.
"Alright." He says finally, turning to her with both hands out as if calling for a hug from across the room. "Lets have a look at you."
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley doesn't hug him, but she does take a few steps to stand close in front of him. It's not that bad yet, and so she's aware of what she looks like, of the sense that she probably gives off to other people. She just hasn't done anything about it and probably won't, at least not on her own: it's in the manner that a person might ignore the signs of lung cancer for months on end. It's easier to ignore it than to face the possibility that she might not be able to fix it.
She understands that he's trying to help, so when he attempts to look into her mind there's a sense that she is, reluctantly, allowing it, relaxing barriers. When Wharil looks for that taint and peers into her mind this time the fissures do indeed seem to have deepened. It's more pervasive.
"I think," she says as he works, "that I just need a couple of weeks to get over it and get myself back together. I don't know if you saw anything of what I did with Dylan, but..."
[Wharil Choc]
"Yeah, I saw it. But i...I mean..."
His eyes seem stern while he peers into her, unhappy both in general and with what he senses. He seems to realize this, catches himself, and sighs. The hands that touch at her cheek are cold from the air outside.
"Maybe keep your distance next time you dip into the mind of a madman, yeah? Now what's this I hear about something going down at the Chantry?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"I thought I could handle it," is what she says to his first statement, and her words carry the hint of a sigh with them. Regretful, but acknowledging the fact that she should have known better. But it was worth it, in its way: Tytalans are shaped by conflict, by suffering.
So if she can push through it in the end, so much the better.
He asks about the Chantry and she glances up at him. "Yeah. We were all called individually - something established a telepathic connection and started asking for help. So I checked the house before I got out of the cab and it was drenched in Qlippothic magic." She stops to let that sink in, watching him, trying to gauge whether she needs to explain.
"Two men came out and attacked us while Ashton and I were trying to talk. We killed them. There were two bodies inside. Jackson and Marla, probably." She doesn't talk about what else they found inside the house or the state they found the bodies in. They're an unimportant detail, and horrific though the sight was, it isn't worse than what she saw last weekend. "Those men didn't have any Qlippothic taint, so I assume the Nephandus is still out there."
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil's eyes fix on Ashley as she tells the story. At first he seems annoyed by the whole thing, particularly by her involvement. The simplicity of the synopsis. We killed them. As if it were just another bullet point in the whole thing.
Then his eyes do the wandering dance that thinking eyes do.
"Did they say anything? These men? Where are their bodies? And where are Marla and Jackson?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley's brow furrows as she tries to recall all the details. She has a remarkably good memory, enough to recall not only the gist of what was said but exact words without the use of Mind magic. It all happened quickly and she has not spent much time thinking about those men they killed, the one whose pattern she unwove.
"They asked if we were with the two inside, asked if we wanted to clean the mess up, and then asked where we were a week ago before 'the bitch went out of control.' Maybe he meant Marla?" She lifts a hand to her lower lip, pressing it between thumb and forefinger while she considers that. "After that they just started shooting. On edge, I suppose."
He asks where the bodies are and she shrugs. "Ashton took them and said she would take care of them. I've never done much in the way of disposing of bodies so I figured I'd let her handle it."
[Wharil Choc]
And here he sighs deeply, a frightened look on him now. He doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. At one point his hands get shoved into his pockets. At another point, they rake through his hair. In the end he simply crosses his arms. Or more accurately he hugs himself. Tightly.
"Marla. I'd figured she was the one. Too many coincidences, and Dylan was involved with her too many times. But i wasn't sure.
"There's a chance that we're being duped. There's also a chance that you guys killed two Euthanatoi performing a dangerous service that would have otherwise fallen to us. Either way...this...is not good.
"I'm gonna have to talk to Ashton. I have to see those bodies. And you...you need a fucking vacation. What do you do for fun, Ashley?"
[Ashley McGowen]
He tells her that they could have killed two Euthanatoi, and her eyebrows raise, at that. "That would be...really unfortunate," she says, her tone not quite nonchalant but certainly not as concerned about it as it should be. Would have been. "Sorry. It wouldn't surprise me if Marla had something to do with it, though. She sent Dylan and I out to drop off a package back in September, and these...things? I don't even know what to call them...popped out and attacked us. Dylan tried to question her about it."
"I can go with you to look at the bodies, if you want. I should talk with Ashton anyway. They say she's been here a long time. As long as anyone stays in this city," she adds, her voice a little grim because she's heard what else 'they' say. That the city eats magi alive, that it does horrible things to them, chews them up until they leave.
He asks what she does for fun and she pauses. "I read. Or I write. Poetry, actually." This has the air of a confession. Ashley really isn't the type of person one thinks of as a poet, and that aside, if one happens to be a -good- poet, getting around the assumption most people have, that you scrawl about your soul's blackness in a notebook, can be a bit awkward. "But I think staying busy might be better for me right now."
[Wharil Choc]
"I think otherwise. Listen, this...this is more than just depression and grief. This is the death taint. You don't just get over it in a couple of weeks. It'll demand that you feed it. You've got to do just the opposite. Go out there and find something that makes you feel alive again. Maybe that's writing poetry or listening to music. Binge eating, casual sex, whatever. You gotta get to a place where the death can't reach you.
"And until you do...I don't know if you should be tagging along with all of this. Especially not to come and possibly dig up dead body parts."
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley gives a sharp shake of the head, almost violent in her refusal. Angry, even though she wouldn't really be able to to put her finger on what, exactly, made her feel that way. "I'm being pushed in the direction I have to go. I can't fight that." She doesn't say that it feels right, as it's just the opposite - but this is not the first time she's disliked the direction her Avatar has pushed her in.
"Even if I did think it was good for me, there's too much to do. You're probably going to need my help with the Marauder, and if there -is- still a Nephandus around, chances are you'll need me for that too."
[Wharil Choc]
"Yes, we'll need you. In one piece, after we've sorted this all out. If those were euthanatois, it may mean that another marabout has decided to get involved. If not, then we've proven that the rest of the magi in this city are quite capable of dealing with this. For right now, Ashley, I need you to take care of yourself."
Wharil's eyes were stern and fixed again, and his lips formed a thin, pressed line as he weighed out what to say next.
"If you go down this road it'll eat right into your soul. This is something you'll have to overcome. And you can't spread your attention while you're doing that. Its too dangerous to everyone involved."
[Ashley McGowen]
She doesn't like hearing this, or being told what to do, and it's evident in the expression she's fixing on him. Staring, almost hostile. "Wharil," she finally says, the edges in her voice pulled back and restrained, "I appreciate that you're looking out for me. I really do. But this is where my Avatar wants me to go, and I actually feel like I'm being pushed in the right direction."
She looks at him, half-smiles in a manner that holds no warmth, and spreads her hands for a second. It's not quite a gesture of helplessness, more of acquiesence. "I feel like I'd be cheating myself if I sat back."
[Wharil Choc]
What response could there be for that, other than a sigh. A blank look and a light head shake as he submits. The two of them, so different. Wharil was not the type to grasp wills and push until either side failed. He was the one who watched. And often times, the one who warned.
"Tread Carefully." is the warning he gives now. He turns back, picking up his coat from where he'd tossed it now and putting it on slowly as he prepares to leave.
"And for christ's sake. Get out of the house at the very least."
[Ashley McGowen]
The look on her face is not a happy one. It's the look of someone who has realized (decided) that she is going to be fighting down every step of her path to Ascension and has given up on struggling against the darker aspects of that path. Wharil, despite everything he's been through, has made the choice to go on smiling. Ashley has not.
That's the difference.
"I'll try," she says. "There's a man who's going to come looking for you, by the way. A spirit talker. He tracked me down after Dylan opened up that rift and he's looking for him."
[Wharil Choc]
He pauses midway between flicking his coat collar upwards.
"A spirit talker? You mean one of the Dreamspeakers? What do you know about him?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"That Kage has spoken to him before and he's very concerned with stopping the Marauder before he opens up more rifts. He's been doing it around the city." Ashley folds her arms, leaning her hip against the back of her couch.
"I wasn't really in a spot to help him look, but I thought that you might want to. I only gave him your phone number, though. I didn't tell him where to find you."
[Wharil Choc]
"Kage? Hmph." Two little words and plenty of meaning. "May prove helpful though. I'm not skilled enough to track a marauder's path through the telaurian. Maybe this guy is. What's his name?"
[Ashley McGowen]
She thinks on this for a moment; when she asked who he was he didn't give her a name, he just started talking about Dylan and about his purpose. "...He didn't give it to me," she says after a moment. "I'm sure you'll know him, though. Voice is sort of raspy."
And, after a second, "He was pretty insistent on going after him right away, I'm surprised he hasn't called you yet."
[Wharil Choc]
"I'll look out for him then. Thanks for telling me." Wharil shrugs in his coat, and gives Ashley one last once over.
"I'll...I'll see you around, Ashley."
[Ashley McGowen]
She nods, watches him as he leaves, and then nods again as he says he'll see her around. "All right. Thanks again for helping and coming by to check in. I do appreciate it," she adds, in the tone of someone who is at least aware of the fact that they do not often come off as an appreciative person.
"Be careful, if you go chasing after the Marauder. I'll see you."
One would assume that Wharil Choc had a day job. Few knew the precise details of what that day job was, but he had a car and a place to stay in the city, and utility bills to pay, and obviously enough money for a collection of dress shirts and slacks. Yeah, all that had to come from some nine-to-five somewhere.
Only its eleven o'clock and, beneath the coat he's in his jeans and a sweater, melting snow dripping off his boots as he knocks heavily on Ashley's door.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley has a day job. Did. She's talked about it with a few people, and is often in casual business dress when he's caught her in the evenings. She attends class and is working on her master's degree. For these tasks, that air of hunger and ambition about her has actually been beneficial - it intimidates subordinates and it gives her bosses and professors the impression that she's willing to work hard, that she has drive. And that's true.
What they like less is when she does not show up for three days after the new year without calling and then looks pale, sick, and jittery. Haunted. With a pervasive sense of taint they can't put their fingers on. One of them was concerned, said they didn't want to know what she was using and suggested that she get help.
When she answers the door it is clear that something is wrong, and if possible, she looks even worse than she did when he saw her last. Her face is drawn, she's lost weight and there's still that sense of wrongness about her, which actually seems to have gotten worse.
"Wharil," she says, surprised, and then steps aside to let him in.
[Wharil Choc]
The first thing he mutters is a not so quiet, whispered Sh-it. Upon seeing her, then he walks in through the door, takes off his coat, and tosses it on the couch haphazardly.
Here was something he should have been takig care of. here was something he should have followed up on. Ashley wasn't Euthanatos. Which wasn't to say she was somehow more succeptible to the death taint, but somehow he figured she'd never actually had a talk on methods for dealing with it.
"Alright." He says finally, turning to her with both hands out as if calling for a hug from across the room. "Lets have a look at you."
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley doesn't hug him, but she does take a few steps to stand close in front of him. It's not that bad yet, and so she's aware of what she looks like, of the sense that she probably gives off to other people. She just hasn't done anything about it and probably won't, at least not on her own: it's in the manner that a person might ignore the signs of lung cancer for months on end. It's easier to ignore it than to face the possibility that she might not be able to fix it.
She understands that he's trying to help, so when he attempts to look into her mind there's a sense that she is, reluctantly, allowing it, relaxing barriers. When Wharil looks for that taint and peers into her mind this time the fissures do indeed seem to have deepened. It's more pervasive.
"I think," she says as he works, "that I just need a couple of weeks to get over it and get myself back together. I don't know if you saw anything of what I did with Dylan, but..."
[Wharil Choc]
"Yeah, I saw it. But i...I mean..."
His eyes seem stern while he peers into her, unhappy both in general and with what he senses. He seems to realize this, catches himself, and sighs. The hands that touch at her cheek are cold from the air outside.
"Maybe keep your distance next time you dip into the mind of a madman, yeah? Now what's this I hear about something going down at the Chantry?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"I thought I could handle it," is what she says to his first statement, and her words carry the hint of a sigh with them. Regretful, but acknowledging the fact that she should have known better. But it was worth it, in its way: Tytalans are shaped by conflict, by suffering.
So if she can push through it in the end, so much the better.
He asks about the Chantry and she glances up at him. "Yeah. We were all called individually - something established a telepathic connection and started asking for help. So I checked the house before I got out of the cab and it was drenched in Qlippothic magic." She stops to let that sink in, watching him, trying to gauge whether she needs to explain.
"Two men came out and attacked us while Ashton and I were trying to talk. We killed them. There were two bodies inside. Jackson and Marla, probably." She doesn't talk about what else they found inside the house or the state they found the bodies in. They're an unimportant detail, and horrific though the sight was, it isn't worse than what she saw last weekend. "Those men didn't have any Qlippothic taint, so I assume the Nephandus is still out there."
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil's eyes fix on Ashley as she tells the story. At first he seems annoyed by the whole thing, particularly by her involvement. The simplicity of the synopsis. We killed them. As if it were just another bullet point in the whole thing.
Then his eyes do the wandering dance that thinking eyes do.
"Did they say anything? These men? Where are their bodies? And where are Marla and Jackson?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley's brow furrows as she tries to recall all the details. She has a remarkably good memory, enough to recall not only the gist of what was said but exact words without the use of Mind magic. It all happened quickly and she has not spent much time thinking about those men they killed, the one whose pattern she unwove.
"They asked if we were with the two inside, asked if we wanted to clean the mess up, and then asked where we were a week ago before 'the bitch went out of control.' Maybe he meant Marla?" She lifts a hand to her lower lip, pressing it between thumb and forefinger while she considers that. "After that they just started shooting. On edge, I suppose."
He asks where the bodies are and she shrugs. "Ashton took them and said she would take care of them. I've never done much in the way of disposing of bodies so I figured I'd let her handle it."
[Wharil Choc]
And here he sighs deeply, a frightened look on him now. He doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. At one point his hands get shoved into his pockets. At another point, they rake through his hair. In the end he simply crosses his arms. Or more accurately he hugs himself. Tightly.
"Marla. I'd figured she was the one. Too many coincidences, and Dylan was involved with her too many times. But i wasn't sure.
"There's a chance that we're being duped. There's also a chance that you guys killed two Euthanatoi performing a dangerous service that would have otherwise fallen to us. Either way...this...is not good.
"I'm gonna have to talk to Ashton. I have to see those bodies. And you...you need a fucking vacation. What do you do for fun, Ashley?"
[Ashley McGowen]
He tells her that they could have killed two Euthanatoi, and her eyebrows raise, at that. "That would be...really unfortunate," she says, her tone not quite nonchalant but certainly not as concerned about it as it should be. Would have been. "Sorry. It wouldn't surprise me if Marla had something to do with it, though. She sent Dylan and I out to drop off a package back in September, and these...things? I don't even know what to call them...popped out and attacked us. Dylan tried to question her about it."
"I can go with you to look at the bodies, if you want. I should talk with Ashton anyway. They say she's been here a long time. As long as anyone stays in this city," she adds, her voice a little grim because she's heard what else 'they' say. That the city eats magi alive, that it does horrible things to them, chews them up until they leave.
He asks what she does for fun and she pauses. "I read. Or I write. Poetry, actually." This has the air of a confession. Ashley really isn't the type of person one thinks of as a poet, and that aside, if one happens to be a -good- poet, getting around the assumption most people have, that you scrawl about your soul's blackness in a notebook, can be a bit awkward. "But I think staying busy might be better for me right now."
[Wharil Choc]
"I think otherwise. Listen, this...this is more than just depression and grief. This is the death taint. You don't just get over it in a couple of weeks. It'll demand that you feed it. You've got to do just the opposite. Go out there and find something that makes you feel alive again. Maybe that's writing poetry or listening to music. Binge eating, casual sex, whatever. You gotta get to a place where the death can't reach you.
"And until you do...I don't know if you should be tagging along with all of this. Especially not to come and possibly dig up dead body parts."
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley gives a sharp shake of the head, almost violent in her refusal. Angry, even though she wouldn't really be able to to put her finger on what, exactly, made her feel that way. "I'm being pushed in the direction I have to go. I can't fight that." She doesn't say that it feels right, as it's just the opposite - but this is not the first time she's disliked the direction her Avatar has pushed her in.
"Even if I did think it was good for me, there's too much to do. You're probably going to need my help with the Marauder, and if there -is- still a Nephandus around, chances are you'll need me for that too."
[Wharil Choc]
"Yes, we'll need you. In one piece, after we've sorted this all out. If those were euthanatois, it may mean that another marabout has decided to get involved. If not, then we've proven that the rest of the magi in this city are quite capable of dealing with this. For right now, Ashley, I need you to take care of yourself."
Wharil's eyes were stern and fixed again, and his lips formed a thin, pressed line as he weighed out what to say next.
"If you go down this road it'll eat right into your soul. This is something you'll have to overcome. And you can't spread your attention while you're doing that. Its too dangerous to everyone involved."
[Ashley McGowen]
She doesn't like hearing this, or being told what to do, and it's evident in the expression she's fixing on him. Staring, almost hostile. "Wharil," she finally says, the edges in her voice pulled back and restrained, "I appreciate that you're looking out for me. I really do. But this is where my Avatar wants me to go, and I actually feel like I'm being pushed in the right direction."
She looks at him, half-smiles in a manner that holds no warmth, and spreads her hands for a second. It's not quite a gesture of helplessness, more of acquiesence. "I feel like I'd be cheating myself if I sat back."
[Wharil Choc]
What response could there be for that, other than a sigh. A blank look and a light head shake as he submits. The two of them, so different. Wharil was not the type to grasp wills and push until either side failed. He was the one who watched. And often times, the one who warned.
"Tread Carefully." is the warning he gives now. He turns back, picking up his coat from where he'd tossed it now and putting it on slowly as he prepares to leave.
"And for christ's sake. Get out of the house at the very least."
[Ashley McGowen]
The look on her face is not a happy one. It's the look of someone who has realized (decided) that she is going to be fighting down every step of her path to Ascension and has given up on struggling against the darker aspects of that path. Wharil, despite everything he's been through, has made the choice to go on smiling. Ashley has not.
That's the difference.
"I'll try," she says. "There's a man who's going to come looking for you, by the way. A spirit talker. He tracked me down after Dylan opened up that rift and he's looking for him."
[Wharil Choc]
He pauses midway between flicking his coat collar upwards.
"A spirit talker? You mean one of the Dreamspeakers? What do you know about him?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"That Kage has spoken to him before and he's very concerned with stopping the Marauder before he opens up more rifts. He's been doing it around the city." Ashley folds her arms, leaning her hip against the back of her couch.
"I wasn't really in a spot to help him look, but I thought that you might want to. I only gave him your phone number, though. I didn't tell him where to find you."
[Wharil Choc]
"Kage? Hmph." Two little words and plenty of meaning. "May prove helpful though. I'm not skilled enough to track a marauder's path through the telaurian. Maybe this guy is. What's his name?"
[Ashley McGowen]
She thinks on this for a moment; when she asked who he was he didn't give her a name, he just started talking about Dylan and about his purpose. "...He didn't give it to me," she says after a moment. "I'm sure you'll know him, though. Voice is sort of raspy."
And, after a second, "He was pretty insistent on going after him right away, I'm surprised he hasn't called you yet."
[Wharil Choc]
"I'll look out for him then. Thanks for telling me." Wharil shrugs in his coat, and gives Ashley one last once over.
"I'll...I'll see you around, Ashley."
[Ashley McGowen]
She nods, watches him as he leaves, and then nods again as he says he'll see her around. "All right. Thanks again for helping and coming by to check in. I do appreciate it," she adds, in the tone of someone who is at least aware of the fact that they do not often come off as an appreciative person.
"Be careful, if you go chasing after the Marauder. I'll see you."
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