Why aren't you kids an item?

[Wharil Choc]
Wharil Choc couldn't be much of a reporter. Any freelance journalist worth his salt would have already wrangled the first plane ticket they could and high-tailed it to Haiti. Especially one with his resume. Natural disasters in Myanmar. Genocide in Darfur. South american drug cartels and guerilla agencies. Devastation was his bread and butter. Or it should have been.

Instead, he stood outside a Condo, smoking a cigarette. His press pass card was tucked away in the inside pocket of the thick wool coat that potected him utterly from the wind, and somewhat from the cold. He excalled a plume of white, half of which was tobacco smoke. He was calm. He was settled.

He was ready.

Some time ago he'd called Kage, sidestepping the re-introductions to get down to the meat of the matter. The results were all back. The information had all paid off. Now it was time to share the spoils. He'd called Ashley even before that, confirming that they could meet at her place. How much longer, he wondered, until people caught on? Until they started suggesting they meet at his place. How long could he take advantage of their trust before he had to extend a bit of his own. He didn't even trust the elevator, not more than he had to anyway. By the time he's outside Ashley's door there's a soft glow of sweat on his brow, and he's practically ripping open the front of the coat with one hand as he knocks on her door with the other.

[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley has taken to sleeping whenever and wherever she happens to put her head down for a few minutes. While she can Will herself to fall asleep, she generally can't Will herself to -stay- asleep, which of late has presented its problems. Today it's face down at her desk on top of one of the thicker books on Enochian runes (which she will regret when she wakes up with her eyes itching from dust) with her head pillowed on an arm.

She'd gotten Wharil's call earlier, agreed to meet at her place without a second thought. Wharil may wonder whether he should extend the courtesy of offering to meet at his own place sometime: for her part, Ashley is far more comfortable greeting people on her terms, in her territory. With her sanctum in the back. At her place she dictates the rules. At someone else's, it's a different story.

The rapping at her door wakes her after a few seconds, and she blinks blearily, taking a moment to reorient herself and try to remember where she is and what she was doing. Studying. Taking notes. What woke her up?

Then the knock comes again and she realizes the time, rises out of her chair and goes to answer the door, still rubbing the side of her face to clear the sleep away. The fog has mostly cleared by the time she reaches the door and opens it, giving the man outside a faint smile. "Hey, Wharil," she says, gesturing him inside.

[Wharil Choc]
"Hey Ashley. Oh...was this a bad time?"

He comes in smiling, but obviously a little distracted. The last time he was here there was cause for concern. Now the cause was no longer evident, but the concern prevailed. Wharil breathed in deeply, smelling the air. Feeling it as he peeled off his gloves and began lowering his messenger bag off his shoulders. No bloody bandages. No empty bottles of Jack Daniels or brown pill canisters. So far...so good.

[K. R. Jakes]
K. R. Jakes still didn't trust Wharil Choc, a man whose very name took tenuous shape, sometimes, in her mind, a man whose smile she couldn't always clearly picture, whose features slipped away from her (dreaming) when she tried to recall them, but who nonetheless has made an impression. And K. R. Jakes didn't really trust Ashley McGowen, who boldly shoved into a madman's personal Hell, who knew K. R. Jakes from back in the day, who approved (idolized?) of somebody that she does not.

Thankfully, trust wasn't necessary (was a luxury). When he called, after she'd listened, after she'd gathered her thoughts together, she'd agreed to come by Ashley's place. [I want matches in case I have to suddenly burn.] The big ol' black pickup truck pulls into a spot, and Kage jumps out, bloodspill of red hair braided and coiled, something a little bit elegant, also a little bit childish, like it's going to fall apart. "I'd appreciate it if you stayed in the car," she says, and there's not a damned person around, but Kage glances toward the window anyway, checking. Bag over her shoulder, hands in her pockets, and Ashley's already opening the door and letting Wharil inside when Kage sashay/swaggers on up to the door. It's probably just been closd when there's a

Knock-knock!

[Ashley McGowen]
The air smells faintly herbal, probably from the enormous stockpile of tea, stacked like tetris blocks, over on the counter. And like wood and leather. No scent of alcohol, no pill boxes or signs of other varieties of drugs about the place. If Ashley has been struggling as of late, she at least hasn't been leaving any physical signs of this (or careful not to do anything that would leave physical traces behind, that would demonstrate that it's troubling her.)

"It's fine. I was just napping," she tells him, shutting the door behind him. No sooner has she done this than there's another knock, and she swings the door back open.

"Kage," she says, a little surprised. "Come in."

[Wharil Choc]
Wharil nods. Napping. He approved of naps. Naps were good for one's sanity, in his experience. Not sleeping. Not being so tired that one's body and mind both relented to some other primal force. But napping, being comfortable enough in wakefulness to actively relent to the comfort of sleep, was a good sign.

The door swings open again, and Kage arrives. Wharil only gives her a smile, bright and welcoming, in greeting.

"Great. We're all here. I guess we can get started then."

[K. R. Jakes]
"Hello," she says, with a brief [courtesy (mischief?)] smile. Cool, today, Miss K. R. Jakes. All sorts've composure, all sorts've grace. But she still looks Ashley over, very carefully. Looks Wharil over, just as carefully. "How are you today, Ashley? And, Wharil," the name, it sounds like an alien word, something she hasn't quite translated yet.

She isn't grim. She isn't even grave. She's just (cautious) serious. "So what's up?"

[K. R. Jakes]
And, of course, she comes on in, taking her coat off as she does. Half-turning, to shut the door her own self, an automatic thing.

[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley opens the door to the closet just inside the entrance to the apartment, with its single coat and the leash inside, and lots of hangars. More hangars than she will likely ever have guests. Wharil's and Kage's are neatly placed inside, and then shut. Ashley shudders, a single quick burst of almost imperceptible movement, and then turns back to the other two.

"I'm all right," she says. "Getting by. Did you guys want to sit down?" she asks, gesturing toward the couch and two chairs, coffee table in the center, dog dozing like a permanent fixture with his back against the sturdy leg of the table.

Kage asks Wharil what's up, and Ashley looks to him too, just as attentively.

[Wharil Choc]
Wharil does sit down, picking a corner of the couch where he can pull his messenger bag to him, draw out a scribbled-upon notebook, and leave it open at his feet, like a bag of tricks.

"Got word back from my friends at the Police department. The two gentlemen you guys had that run it at the Chantry with?"

Wharil flips open the notepad, turning to one page about halfway through and folding out several other scraps of reports that he'd printed onto the page.

"Derek Rynders. Twenty-seven year old convenience store clerk from Cicero. He was arrested a few years ago for assault and battery, did time in jail and was released."

He flips to another page, another stapled report.

"And his friend Clarence Penn. Thirty-two-year-old loan shark from Chicago who was arrested in 1993 for breaking and entering. Now there's no way of telling whether these gentlemen were awakened or not, but on a hunch I asked a friend of mine if there were any active Chakravanti in the area that had failed to report back recently. Came up blank."

[K. R. Jakes]
Kage sits in one of the chairs, a brief moment of attention for the dog, although she doesn't pet him. Let sleeping dogs lie. She can do that in a literal sense, at least. She rests her elbows on her knees, twines her fingers together, leans forward and listens. If she has comments yet, she's keeping them to herself still.

[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley heads over to the living area after him, sitting next to him on the couch so she can peer over at the notepad and glance over the reports. She takes a moment to consider this information, chewing thoughtfully at her lower lip.

"I talked with Ashton. She thought those guys were hunters. Like Technocrats but unaffiliated and unawakened." And, eyes drifting skyward as she digs through her memory for what she recalls of the event, "I was watching patterns and the Tellurian when I was there at the house. Neither of those guys looked Awake to me."

"Speaking of the Nephandus, I'm pretty sure that's what happened to Dylan. What I saw in his head would...make a lot of sense that way."

[Wharil Choc]
He nods at this, flipping onward through his notepad. "While there haven't been any Euthanatos gone missing--" Thank god for that. There were only a few ways this situation could get worse. A cross-Tradition clusterfuck would be high on the list. "--There has been a noticeable increase in hunter activity. Los Angeles. Boston. Phoenix. All sporting equipment that...glows blue in the presence of supernatural activity. At least, thats what the few eyewitness accounts stated. They seem to be...very effective at what they do.

"But they haven't been attacking mages, not outright at least. Only cases we have of that is in retaliation from an attack, or highly public, highly hostile displays of magic. So...there are very few guesses as to why they'd storm a chantry house."

He taps the notepad on his knee, considering. Or looking as if he was considering. He had, in fact, already made up his mind.

[K. R. Jakes]
"Interesting," she says, and means it. At Dylan's name, Kage glanced (after the fact: in his head) at Ashley. Then: Wharil, oh happy-seeming, beloved, disappearing Wharil has her attention again. "What's your guess?"

[Ashley McGowen]
"If Marla and Jackson were there, and they -were- the Nephandi I saw traces of - or if they were mistaken for the Nephandi - then they might have assumed it was best to destroy the chantry and all of us here to try to contain the Qlippothic taint. Sort of like a shockwave clause."

Ashley balls her fist and rests her chin on it, thoughtful. Kage asks Wharil to voice the rest of his thoughts, and she too looks sidelong at him.

[Wharil Choc]
"Marla." He says, almost sadly. "She was sort of the den-mother at the Chantry. Providing and securing the place. But she asked for...very odd favors as well. I'm willing to bet the two of them somehow...forced Dylan into the state he is now. And...yeah. Like Ashley said. Once they were uncovered by these hunters they might have called out to as many of the awakened as they could, hoping to either save themselves or...simply a last ditch effort to utterly destroy those hunters.

"And I'd say that worked out pretty well."

Again, more flipping through. More folding and unfolding of stapled material.

"There's one other thing though. The clothes that the marauder was wearing. There were three different blood samples identified. Luckily Dylan's stint in the armed forces helps us identify his at the ready. The other matches our friend Mr. Penn, which suggests the two of them may have had a run in at one point or another. The third type is as yet unidentified."

[Ashley McGowen]
"If you give me his clothes, I can probably trace the third person from that blood sample and tell you who it is," Ashley says, watching him flip through his notes. Hand unballing itself, laying flat against the side of her face, reaching up and massaging her temple.

"...This is a fucking mess."

[K. R. Jakes]
There might be some relief in the fact that at least one owner of the bloody stains on Dylan's clothes wasn't innocent. Knew what he was doing, survived Dylan, just to be gunned down outside of the chantry. Maybe he's even the one who spilled Ashton's guts (wasn't like he was going to get a chance to spill his own, the way that played out). There might be some relief. Maybe she's just glad to have a suspicion confirmed; it's difficult to tell.

Kage's gaze slants toward her hands for a brief moment, and the sweep of her lashes conceals her gaze [less readable]. This is a fucking mess, Ashley says, and her mouth quirks. She looks up, and says: "Cool weapons. Los Angeles. Phoenix. Boston. What do you think: is a cavalry on its way for the hunters?"

[Wharil Choc]
When Ashley asks for the clothes, Wharil purses his lips for a second, glancing quite pointedly at Kage.

"I only have samples." He mutters, and tosses the notepad aside, leaning back in the couch now.

"I don't know for sure. I do know this though: According to Gregor the Marauder's leaving shallows all around the city. If things start coming through, not only will we have to clean it up, but we may have to contend with hunters that'll lump us in with the rest.

"I want to talk to Ashton and Rene still, but...we need to check out the Chantry as soon as possible. If its safe...we've got to call a meeting. Everyone we know. This affects all of us."

[Ashley McGowen]
"I've been planning to go and look at the chantry and make sure it's safe to go back there. We may need Gregor to speak with the node's guardian. I can communicate with the Umbrood, but he may get better results." She leans forward, locking her hands together on the back of her neck and smoothing them forward over her hair, as though to squeeze out tension.

"I would also recommend that we all keep our heads down while we do this. The city is going to be crawling with mirrorshades soon. I'm surprised it isn't already."

[K. R. Jakes]
He gives her a pointed look. Kage isn't immune to pointed looks, but she doesn't look guilty; she just lifts her shoulders in a faint (ghost of) shrug. As if it wasn't her fault at all that he only had samples. Her attention slips away from the here-and-now for a second, considering. "Hm," she says. And then this, to Ashley: "Were you planning on going alone? And when?" A beat, followed by, "Even if the chantry isn't safe, you should call a meeting of like minds. Maybe not meet here, but there must be somewhere reasonably secure -- " a shrug. "Perhaps Ashton's." Yes, she knows Ashton. Kage knows far more Traditionalists in this city than she'd like to know, at this point.

[Wharil Choc]
"Ashton has a kid. Personally I'd like to leave that kid out of as much weird shit as I can. That includes all of us. And my reason for having it there are twofold. One, its neutral ground, and we are not like minds. If anybody loses their tempers or just very strongly disagrees, there's less likelihood of someone claiming 'my house, my rules.' Secondly, the Chantry house, the library, the node. These are all resources that aren't easily available, and yet here they are in our laps. I'm not entirely convinced that everyone we tell is gonna show up, but out of those that do show up, I feel, are the ones that we can depend on to run the place in the future."

All the while through that little speech Wharil had avoided eye contact, as if afraid that he might bore a hole through the heads of his audience members with the strength of his opinion alone. But now that it was out there he paused, breathed, and looked to both of them.

"What do you guys think?"

[Ashley McGowen]
"I think you're right about using Ashton's place. But that means that if the chantry -isn't- a safe place to meet when we call this meeting, we're going to have to find somewhere else. I suppose that's a question to be answered once we've gotten a look at the chantry and the node itself, though." She shuts her eyes for a few seconds, still leaned forward with her hands clasped over the back of her head.

"I was planning to ask Wharil to come with me when I scope the place out. As for who takes hold of the place and tends it...that's a lot of responsibility, so we will want someone who's proven to be reliable. I plan on putting myself forward, but I don't think I could hold it alone if it, for example, came under attack again."

[K. R. Jakes]
They have -- a possibly dead nephandus, a possibly not-dead nephandus, and a possibly tainted [no longer sacrosanct, no longer sanctuary] Node. They have -- a good man, someone the Awakened community as a whole seems to have been relying on to lead them into cohesion, fashioned into a tool of madness, into a monstrous shape he'll never be able to shuck, because he's dead. They have -- holes punched by said madmen between the spiritworld and the world of flesh and desire, and who knows what Cthulhu-esque monstrosities are going to find those open doors and shamble onto the streets? They have -- the very real possibility that a bunch of sleepers with weaponry radiant enough to kill two mages strong enough to hold a Node and some knowledge of just what really makes a mage are about to descend and find out that, hey, their operatives [friends?] were slaughtered.

This is all bad news. Bad, bad news.

Wharil mentions Marcelle, and Kage winces, apologetic, and then as she listens to the rest, her eyebrows draw together a little, eyes all tarnishing up with gravity (worry [smoke]), leavened only momentarily by wistfulness (library). "That's true, Wharil," his name, as always, said so carefully, a word she shapes from nowhere. "And if you do have to find somewhere else, you'll have to take people's word that they won't pull that kind of crap. But if the chantry doesn't have a defender right now, someone to lay down the law, do you really think its neutrality is going to hold?" A half-glance, toward Ashley. "I think controlling it will be a pretty strong lure for some of the Awakened."

"Why don't you two cabal up?" The question is asked pretty innocently. She'd wondered, already, if they were.

[Wharil Choc]
He was about to address the previous points, highlight that the attitudes they were looking for in a leader, or group of leaders, were the same attitudes that would realize that sticking to a set goal was actually more important than personal opinion. That Neutrality was made to be destroyed and rebuilt, that its power came in swinging the majority of opinion. And that a single person, or even two people, trying to run a chantry and taking dangerous, possibly nefarious risks to do so, was how they wound up here in the first place. Better a council. Better as many hands as they could manage.

And then Kage suggests a cabal. Specifically a cabal between himself and Ashley. He blushes. She might as well have asked why they weren't dating. The only Cabal he'd ever been in had an old man that everyone called grandmother. Had a mommy and a daddy who commanded equal parts fear, respect, and admiration. Had brothers and sisters, all named Chela. And he had been The Kid.

"...uh..." Is the only audible response they get from him, even as he looked to Ashley, still blushing. It wasn't a horrible idea but...wow.

[Ashley McGowen]
She's about to answer Kage's first question, about the neutrality of the cabal, and concede that yes, a council might be more in order. That's more traditional in many cities, though this one has a rather small concentration of Awakened. The Traditions are generally far too divided to put all of their trust in leadership in the hands of one person - nor would Ashley -want- the responsibility of leading everyone. Then she too is drawn off topic by the cabal question.

"Um..."

Ashley's first cabal was formed when she was six months into her apprenticeship, almost nineteen years old, and if someone had told when she first arrived in the city that she might even be -considering- entering a cabal with a non-Hermetic, she would have scoffed. She glances sidelong at Wharil, catching the look, the blush, and raises a hand to the back of her neck.

"I guess we do work together a lot."

[K. R. Jakes]
"You certainly seem to," the Orphan says, neutrally, after a second has passed. A second in which she takes in Wharil, blushing, speechless, and Ashley, touching the back of her neck, glancing sidelong at the Euthanatos. It's a little difficult to stay neutral -- not to let her expression be too colored by her personal thoughts [wonder, wonder, what you are]. As always, she's an honest creature -- to a fault: "You really hadn't even thought about it?" Surprise. "Honestly, I thought you already were when you came by."

[Wharil Choc]
"Mm...yeah...uh...no. Theres...um...."

Eyes slip away, dart about the room looking for something to focus on. His left leg begins to bounce up and down as if impatiently waiting for something.

"Something to think about, I guess."

Eventually, those eyes find his watch, and his eyebrows lift before he even sees it. Oh, look at the time.

"Right. I've got a couple things I need to get in order. Anything I'm missing out? Any questions from either of you?"

[Ashley McGowen]
"Well, I hadn't really...yeah. Something to think about. I should...I have things to do too," she says, and then there really isn't anywhere to run off to. This is her damn house.

"No, I don't have any questions. I'll be in touch soon to go and check out the node, though."

[K. R. Jakes]
"De nada," Kage says, and it seems that Wharil's exit is her cue to leave, too. Kage stands, stretches, arms over her head, fingers reach, reach for the ceiling, and she glances (watchful) at Zane once -- then down the hall, frowning, as if she'd just caught a glimpse of -- no. Then her attention returns to the two Traditionalists. She smiles [briefly shining, amorous, beloved girl], but her eyes look [drained] tired (dark). "Thank you," she says, very sincerely, "for calling me. I appreciate it. You remember the mailbox Gregor said to leave him a message at? Maybe pick him up for your Node run." Another pause, and she seems on the verge of saying something else -- of asking something specific. She decides not to, in the end.

Not the time.

[Wharil Choc]
"Another good idea."

He's gathering now. The notepad gets popped into the bag, the bag gets tossed over his shoulders, and he stands. He wouldn't have more to add after that. Just to get his coat, and be gone.

[Ashley McGowen]
"Thanks for dropping by, Kage," Ashley says, glancing at the Orphan after Wharil has left. "I'll see about asking Gregor along too. We'll probably need him, if the node's guardian is in place. Or if it isn't." Which would be much, much worse.

"I'll, uh. I'll see you later. Soon."

[K. R. Jakes]
"Just be careful with him," she says. "He takes on a lot of responsibility." And she still doesn't ask that other question. Just collects her coat, fixes her collar, and then: "Have a decent day, Ashley."

And off she goes, in Wharil's wake (wake up).