Meeting of Messengers

[Administrator] Israel Cohen, welcome to Chantry (Night)

[Administrator] Wharil Choc, welcome to Chantry (Night)

[Israel Cohen] It's taken a bit longer than she anticipated - between one thing or another - but eventually she sets up a date and time to meet again with the so-called Public Relations face of the Society. A meeting just between the two of them to discuss the Guardians becoming full members of the Chantry; a meeting that, hopefully, will be more streamlined and less.. tense.. than the last one had been at times.

She arrives a little early, dressed simply, her hair still damp from being fresh washed, twisted up into a large, heavy loose knot at the nape of her neck. The Chantry door knocked on and, we shall assume, Wharil eventually responds, letting her in. Last time she came with baklava. This time there's a Tupperware container of mixed brownies and blondies; ever a bringer of gifts, this one. Her smile for the man is subdued - a gentle, breezy thing that suits her ethereal smallness - but genuine.

"Hullo again, Wharil... I've brought more treats." She hoists the plastic container slightly in one hand, while the other holds her guide cane. Last time she'd left it at the door, but this time - lacking Solomon's easy guidance - she wields it carefully in the house, the arch of its motion small so she doesn't inadvertently knock anything over. "How are you tonight?" Others ask such questions lightly, without carrying about the response. Israel - for whatever reason - seems one of those rare few who asks because they genuinely want to know.

[Wharil Choc] He does indeed show up at the door, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, made slightly formal by the sports coat he wears with it. All this, of course, is lost on his guest, as is the fact that he was badly in need of a haircut, as his hair back in the short ponytail indicated. But, perhaps she could hear the smile that he wore, sunny and welcoming as always.

"Israel! Glad you could make it. Ah! What's this. More Baclava? No...Brownies? Excellent. We should have some ice cream actually."

As he speaks, he walks ahead of her, letting his voice lead the way to the kitchen, though fairly certain she already knows where it was.

"I'm...well, I could do with more sleep, but I'm good actually. Seems things have been busy in our city. Uh...Here. Have a seat. I already have a bowl of fruit on the table."

Wharil has pulled out a seat at the table. The bowl is in the center, but on the other side there is also his messenger bag and a few papers already arranged. He was prepared.

[Israel Cohen] She follows him - trough merit of his voice, the sound of his foot fall, and other little oddities she clues in on that most others miss. Tracing his path is an aide, though, just as is her cane. Much as he suspects, she is already memorizing what layout she's been re-exposed to in the home, setting up a terrain in her minds eye. So she makes it to the kitchen without incident, the staccato of her cane a steady rhythm that precedes her.
"Busy, yes, to say the least... I guess a general lack of sleep is something most of us suffer from these days." She hears the chair pulled out and makes her way there, feeling with her hands now as she sets the guide cane against the table, keeping it within arms reach as she settles herself with a murmured thanks. "If you ever need it, my cousins run a kind of herbal apothecary -- the green thumbs of the family," She speaks of these relations with a soft warmth of marrow-deep fondness, "I'm sure they could help with a tea or tincture to help you sleep a bit more restfully when you can manage it."

Her small hands slide over the table before her, feeling the layout of the bowl and any plates her set out, brushing over one edge of his messenger bag, then slipping away, it's location noted but no questions asked. Reading her surroundings like she might read Braille. "You know, I don't believe you mentioned your Tradition the last time we met..." She speaks the words mildly - a light curiosity instead of an interrogation.

[Wharil Choc] "Hm. Never tried anything like that, but i'm willing to give it a shot. I'll take you up on that offer some time."

His voice moves around to the rear cabinets, where the sound of clinking flatware can be heard. When he comes back he sets down a bowl, saucer, and spoon next to Israel, before the sound of his movements move to the other side of the table.

"Oh, I didn't mention? Sorry, I forget in mixed company sometimes. Uhh...Euthanatos. Chela rank, which means...I get to teach other Euthanatos of lesser and equal rank. I'm also a probationary member of the Albireo."

And he's smiling again as he continues. She can tell by his voice. It sounds a bit...proud.

"Which means this these kinds of negotiations are part of the trade. And you?"

[Israel Cohen] Dishes and cutlery set before her, she helps herself to some of the fruit in the bowl [which requires she use her hands a bit more than sighted people would - hopefully Wharil doesn't believe in girl cooties or anything] and then a brownie from the plastic container she pops open, spooning up a bit of the fruit while he speaks. The very tip of her tongue flicks out, touching the fruit on the spoon while she softly inhales its aroma, giving herself some warning of what she's about to ingest. Apparently she finds it to her liking because she stops the take the half-spoonful, chewing, savoring and swallowing before answering.

"Ahhhh.... well, that's just as well. The Albireo are just about the only individual faction I know of within the Euthanatoi." Yes, she uses the archaic version when referring to his Tradition in plural. Then she turns her face in the direction of his last words came from, noting the pride in his voice, her expression one to echo her own words, the smile as much in her blind eyes as on her lips. "Congratulations. Not an easy position to hold, if what I know is accurate." Then a roll of her shoulders as she breaks off a piece of brownie. "Unaffiliated. An Orphan, I guess, by the common terminology... I grew up as a part of a family craft and, well... for various reasons I've chosen to remain disparate."

[Wharil Choc] "Hm." Is all he really has to say to that. This preliminary banter suited him, as he prepared his own bowl of fruit and brownie.

"And Solomon? How'd you two begin working together?"

[Israel Cohen] "Solomon is a member of the Celestial Chorus." She responds easily enough. "As for how we began working together," here her smile is much the same as when she briefly mentioned family, though deeper, still. Something more poignant than fondness; something just as ingrained as bonds of blood, if not more so. There is a depth in her eyes that is far more older than her apparently mid-20-something years: Ancient and heavy with sorrow, though kept deep beneath layers of an otherwise calm, gentle woman. Held in check. "I had a rather violent Awakening.," a shrug - that much is true of many Mages. "Solomon took me in and taught me. Though we've known one another since I was a child, long before my Awakening. I've since reached a level where we consider one another partners rather than mentor and student... but our partnership works so we've remained attached."

[Wharil Choc] "Hm. That's nice. Comforting."

Another smile, but this time marked by silence, followed by the sound of a spoon set to rest in a bowl, then the bowl and platter shoved aside.

"I suppose we should get down to business. Where would you like to start?"

[Israel Cohen] "Comforting. Yes." Comforting: Indeed. But more. But such things are probably not easily explained to anyone let alone a fellow Will Worker one has only just met.

He is ready to move on to business and she is easily agreeable. Another bit of brownie accompanied by a bit of sought and found strawberry quickly consumed before she nods and waves a hand, as if urging him to take the lead. "The Society holds the high ground, so to speak. So I guess we should start with what all your Prerequisites and conditions are?"

[Wharil Choc] "In truth, there's only one thing that can be considered a condition. I believe we're already in agreement as per the limitations on access to those not already in a Cabal. Just to be clear, we're not saying others aren't welcome in the Chantry. Just not the library and node, and no free rein on taking residence in the dorms. If the Guardians agree, I'm sure that means they also agree to enforce that.

"Aside from that...I have to say there's been some concern about Solomon's reaction to news of the Node's guardian. We realize you both have an admirable deal of experience, but we've accomplished quite a bit of progress into developing a rapport and agreement with the Guardian. We would need assurance that the guardians wouldn't do anything to compromise this.

"In fact..." And here he hesitates. A tell, perhaps, of something uncomfortable coming up. "There's been the suggestion that any negotiation or direct communication with the Guardian goes through Gregor. This last bit isn't a demand, mind you. Merely a suggestion.

"Just as I would suggest some sort of structure for running the chantry." The sound of zipping and shuffling papers comes along with this statement, and after its subsided Wharil hesitates again. "Uh...I'm holding in my hands the charter for the Society of the Nameless Crow. In it we've laid out a number of positions for our members. I think a few of them could carry over to the Chantry at large. Unless...you have your own ideas?"

[Israel Cohen] Suffice to say Israel shows no amount of surprise when the matter of Solomon's... colourful... reaction to news of the Guardian is brought up. She'd been expecting it, obviously. Wharil's words - and phrasing - on the matter is listened to attentively, one ear slightly canted towards his direction while her hazel eyes settle unfocused on a wall she can't see. Her lips curve: Understanding and a quiet kind of amusement. Not because the matter is laughable in any way but simply because she, of course, understands Solomon's reasons more than the others could be expected to.

"I understand. Both your concerns and some idea of the work that must have gone in to getting this far. Believe me when I say neither myself or Solomon have any intention of undermining that or swooping down to somehow... usurp or jeopardize your position." She licks her lips, gathering her thoughts, hands sliding over the table idly. "Solomon's reaction tot he news of the Node's Guardian really had very little to do with the Guardian itself and much more to do with learning that the High Umbrood he summoned was thoroughly out of the picture. For him that had potentially grave implications: After all, pacts are made with such Spirits." Her lips tweak, "If you found out a Spirit with whom you had a bargain was now missing and potentially pissed off at you, you might have a violent reaction as well. Not that he remotely blamed any of you.. alas, the Priest has a temper and it flares up sometimes." She is.. clarifying. Soothing. But not trying to apologize for her companions actions. "The same is true of many Magi I know. We can be a hot-headed lot. I can see where you all might be concerned that he meant the Guardian some harm.. let me assure you that he really doesn't. He has no issue with the Guardian whatsoever: So long as it is free of taint and doing its job, that would suffice for both of us. However..."
She pauses here, choosing her words carefully. Not to obfuscate but because that is just her nature.
"From the sounds of it Gregor has built a certain rapport with the Guardian. And that is very well. Solomon's main concern would be the Node itself. He is a Disciple of Prime -- Gregor is an Initiate who's main area of study seems to be Spirits. What I mean to say is this: If ever the situation arose where some negotiation was required with the Guardian then I also feel having Gregor's input would be useful - given his established connections. But on matters of the Node itself, I think it is clear enough that Solomon's expertise there surpasses Gregor's. So I guess it would be best, perhaps, to let Solomon and Gregor speak on these matters and come to agreement between themselves on how things get handled 'Downstairs' -- does that make sense?"

When he speaks of a structure to the chantry she perks up a bit, pleased. Interested. "A charter, really? How organized." The comment is by no means condescending - she is just plain intrigued to hear some of how this particular cabal functions. "My own knowledge of Chantry structure is fairly traditional and basic. So by all means, I'm eager to listen to what you've got..."

[Wharil Choc] "That makes perfect sense, actually. I'll pass this on."

The papers shuffle.

"Its not much I suppose. Just a preamble on our purpose and a brief history leading up to our formation. The cabal positions though...Obviously we would have to change the wording somewhat but...*ahem* We have a priest, elected by majority vote who's responsibilities include the acquisition of appropriate learning material such as rotes, grimoirs, artifacts, etc. Ensuring that every member of the Cabal is able to defend themselves against supernatural attack. And Leading the cabal in the performance of Rites.

"There's A Den-mother, whose responsibilities include Seeing to the physical needs of the members of the Cabal in terms of health and psychological well being.

"A Messenger, responsible for coordinating with other possible Cabals, Chantries, etc, and establish productive partnership with these entities whenever possible. Gathering and coordinating information moving in and out of the cabal. Learn of and investigate possible threats to the Cabal, the Chantry, or the community as a whole.

"And finally a Sentinel, who ensures that every member of the cabal is able to defend against physical attacks of any nature. Is responsible for tactical arrangements for the cabal in a time of conflict, and maintaining defenses of the Chantry and safehouse.

"As I said, we'd have to adjust these for the purpose of the chantry. Furthermore, we'd need a librarian. Someone who can look after the research material currently present, acquire new items for us and...well, keep a record of all the things that happen around here. Something that's already making my head spin, and I'm not even doing it in an official capacity."

[Israel Cohen] ooc: pause!

[Administrator] Israel Cohen has left Chantry