Training with Rene

[Wharil Choc] No one's really seen much of Wharil Choc lately. Its been understood that he's still in town. Most people see him in passing, usually at the Chantry, usually somewhere between the library and the Kitchen. Usually, he pases through the halls like a ghost. Too engrossed in whatever it was he was engrossed with to even acknowledge another human presence.



And what he was engrossed in was really anyone's guess. So few were the number that were even allowed into the library. And even less were the number that really cared. But just like the entire Chantry felt as though there was some sort of change in the air, so di Wharil Choc. This morning he even said hello to someone.



And then immediately went back into the library.



[Rene Vitalli] *Rene had been present intermittently. A silent off and on again infestation in the Chantry, taking up a room nearest the door when she existed in the building's confines, so as to better hear the goings on of its visitors. With the heat of summer, her presence was more obvious. Spiders ambling through the house like impertinent room-mates, crawling out from books in the library, dropping from webs in the kitchen, scurrying about in the node. Tonight they seem to be making their way from the washroom, following in the damp footprints of the burnished brown woman still wet from a shower, clothes sticking to lean muscle as she pads barefoot towards the library, towel in one hand, gun in the other. Door creaking open, she spits Wharil with a look that could back down an angry rhino. Or convey hello?*



Wharil.



[Wharil Choc] When he turns its with a full mouth, still chewing. Still slightly surprised. He pauses, eyes settling on the gun. Books sit scattered on the table, but Wharil seems to be trying to rearrange them. A sandwich, piled high with lettuce and meat, sits on the edge of the library table with a single bite missing.



"Herro--"



Desperately, he chews and swallows hard, wiping an imaginary stain frrom the corner of his mouth. Wharil stands straight. He's also barefoot, in jeans and a t-shirt. He is, however, unarmed.



"Hello Rene. Nice...gun."



[Rene Vitalli] Yes.



*It was a nice gun, she supposed. It got the job done, in any case. Gun itself slid into the holder at her back, she adjusts the thin A-line t-shirt and lets almond eyes crawl over the library, with all the cold patience of a hawk scouting prey. Seconds pass, silence stretching well into awkward territory as the unsettling mage lingers in the doorway, uncertain how to proceed. Finally she speaks, in that voice that seemed such a contrast to the dark wrapper around it. Small and concise.*



You read often.



[Wharil Choc] "Too often." He says, re-shelving a book. When the gun is holstered, he relaxes visibly, getting back to what he was doing.



"I've been...looking for an answer. Something to explain what happened to Gregor. But...I know too little to actually be of any help. And I've been so zealous about it...I've sort of withdrawn from everything else."



He gives her a shrug, heading back to the table to arrange even more books for re-shelving.



"Feels like i haven't seen you in a really long time."



[Rene Vitalli] *A sharp movement of her head. A nod. Gaze creeping like a strangler's fingers up the line of his back, along the length of Wharil's neck as he turns around, going back to his books.*



You haven't.



*Haven't withdrawn? Haven't seen her? As usual, no clarification. A spider ambles along a shelf, rambling 8-legged gait carrying it towards Rene as she approaches. Efficient grace as she strides to Wharil's sandwich and removes a piece, frowning before sliding it into her mouth. Chewing thoroughly as she looks to the books he's been studying.*



[Wharil Choc] He holds one especially thick book up. A black feather peaks out from among the pages, acting as a book mark. He smiles at it momentarily, holding it up for Rene to see.



"The Vedas. Have you read it? This is my first time actually going through in detail. They're...interesting. Very educational."



This he places on the shelf.



"By the way...We're trying to push forward the establishment of certain Chantry positions. Sentinels especially. Also, Ashley is considering asking one of the newcomers in the city to join us. Her name's Li Daiyu."



And then, a hint of hesitation.



"One of the Warring Hands. An Akashic. Have you met her?"



[Rene Vitalli] No.



*She hasn't read the Vedas. Spirits never much of a concern with her. A spider flicked off the bare skin of her wrist with a sharp jab of slender fingers. She tracks it, urge to step on it abating only when Wharil speaks again, her eyes lifting to his face as she considers.*



No.



[Wharil Choc] "Maybe you should. Get to know her. Well..."



There's a glance there that he can't hide. or won't. A glance, and a tightening of lips, slightly uncomfortable, and then he's looking away.



"At least...form some kind of opinion? I don't know. Its up to you . Whatever you feel like."



And with the last book shelved, he circles back to his sandwich, taking a less-than-mouth-stuff bite. He chews for a while. Then, with food shoved into one cheek, he speaks.



"I wanted to ask you a favor too."



[Rene Vitalli] I will try.



*Her glare is unflinching. Did she need to blink - ah yes, there she goes. Somehow the slow slide of her eyelid closed and open again brings all the comfort of watching a lazy predator from within its enclosure. That is to say, none at all. Statuesque, she's taking Wharil in unabashed. Studying him as a mortician does a freshly arrived corpse. He had been scarce. They hadn't communicated since that afternoon at Ashley's, outside of a nod when passing in the hallway. He had a favor to ask, and she waits for it with the patience of a guillotine.*



[Wharil Choc] "I..." He starts. Then stops. He pushes the Sandwich aside on his plate. Perhaps he wasn't hungry anymore.



"I recently got manhandled by...children. I need some help with hand to hand and close quarters combat. And...I need it badly."



There, it was out there. He avoided her eyes after that. Take a look, Rene. This is what shame looks like.



[Rene Vitalli] *Manhandled. By Children. That was a serious concern, impassive glare sweeping the shamed man thoroughly. Thin arms. Slight stature. She knew all too well how easily he was overpowered. A twitch of full lips as she remembers a - she blinks. Settling back, balanced on the balls of her feet. Ready. A nod.*



....



*He wasn't looking at her. He hadn't caught the nod. The towel held idly in her offhand is thrown at him abruptly, snapped through the air at his head.*



[Wharil Choc] The towel is caught. With his face. Luckily his hands move in time to catch it as it falls, and he finds himself looking up at Rene. There's still the uncomfortable tightness in his lips.



"Listen, before you say anything, I just want to say that it was a lot of children. Like...three of them. And they were possessed. And--well anyway. Are you...are you gonna help me?"



[Rene Vitalli] *A damp soap scented towel flops off Wharil's face. Perhaps it had been thrown playfully, but when dealing with a woman who thought a garroting was casual fun, who could tell? An eyebrow slowly rises.*



Strength and reflexes. I will help.



*Eyes narrow murderous, as something finally dawns on her, creeping through the webbing of her mind to register somewhere that got little use. Her center for empathy.*



You are angry?



[Wharil Choc] "I--"



His brows furrow. His lips tighten. He certainly looks angry.



"No." He states, somewhat angrily. "I'm...I'm just...defensive. Its...listen, its a little bit embarrassing. Its a lot bit embarrassing, actually. if you could...not mention this to anybody, that would be great."



[Rene Vitalli] You're embarrassed.



*Rene repeats. He was embarrassed. He felt insufficient. Should she be embarrassed more often? No. She didn't think so. There were things she could do and things she could not. They frustrated her on occasion, but embarrassed? No. That was simple enough. Finally a shrug. Riddles were not one of those strong suits. *



If you're asked to do something you're unable, you'll decline. Yes?



[Wharil Choc] "Maybe." He says, after a bit of contemplating. "I have to admit, there's a part of me that will try and fail first."



He shrugs.



"Its an old part of my training. Sacrificing self. Its...stupid. On paper. But it has saved lives."



And another uncomfortable bristle.



"Its also gotten me in trouble a few times."



[Rene Vitalli] *A nod.*



With the children.



[Wharil Choc] "Among others." He's quick to add. "I under estimated them." And then a quick breath, and even quciker, falser change in tone.



"So! When do we start? And with what?"



[Rene Vitalli] We buy you weights. Technique is nothing without strength.



*Eyes roll skyward a moment in thought. When she looks back to Wharil, its with steely certainty.*



I will attack you.



[Wharil Choc] "Uh. Can you expand on that last part?"



[Rene Vitalli] I will attack you?



*She wasn't entirely certain how she could be more direct witht hat statement. But this was Wharil, and so she gives it a try, glowering as though at any moment she was going to lunge at him and do just as she'd said.*



You'll learn to defend yourself. Fight back.



[Wharil Choc] "Hm. Okay. I guess that works. I just pictured a Pink Panther skit in my mind where I'm getting into bed at the end of the day and you're already there with knives, waiting in ambush. That's...that's not gonna happen is it?"



[Rene Vitalli] *Rene's eyes slip to the side.*



[Wharil Choc] "Rene." He leans in toward her slightly. There's a slight tinge of worry in his expression. "That's not gonna happen, right? I'm not gonna be on the toilet one minute, and fighting for my life pants-less the next, right? I mean, there has to be a practical limitation to this."



[Rene Vitalli] I wouldn't ambush you in the bathroom.



....



Though someone else might one day. You really should be prepared.



[Wharil Choc] "I'll take my chances, thanks."



And now, a little more relaxed, he leans back on the table, discarded sandwich completely forgotten now.



"When do we start then? And what kinda of weights do i need?"



[Rene Vitalli] I am uncertain. Come with me.



*That said, she's turning on her heel and stalking with eerie grace to the front door of the chantry. Apparently intent on getting started now. Maybe they could trade lessons in self defense for lessons in manners. *

I'm F.I.N.E.

[Administrator] Ashley McGowen, welcome to Chantry (Now)



[Ashley McGowen] [Did I actually sleep last night?]

Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 1, 5 (Failure at target 5)



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



[Wharil Choc] [I AM AWARE!]

Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1



[Ashley McGowen] It's been a hell of a week so far.



Wharil's been buried in the library for a while, but he must be feeling exceptionally in touch with his surroundings today. Or maybe just more alert and jumpy than usual. Either way, he can tell when Ashley walks in the front door of the chantry. And the first thing he'll notice, other than hunger, other than unrelenting determination, is that the sense of taint that's been etched on her soul for the past several months is gone.



The second thing he'll notice, when she walks up the stairs and enters the library, is that she hasn't slept much in days. The taint might be gone - and has in fact been gone for a few weeks now - but there's some fresh grief that's managed to find its way back in. She hasn't been resting and her reserves of Will are low, but she's shoring up and soldiering on. Wharil's a perceptive man. He can't help but notice these things.



The third thing he'll notice is Ashley herself, that she's walking in and coming up behind him to take a cursory glance at what he's reading, leaning a palm on the desk. She's dressed in a pair of jeans and a striped blue and gray shirt. It's hot outside, and it's rainy, and dark spots dot the shoulders and chest of her shirt. "Hey," she greets him. "How's it going?"



[Wharil Choc] How long had he been sitting there, facing the door. When she walked in it almost seemed as though he was expecting her. Almost as if he'd staged himself here, all day, with three different books in three different languages sitting in front of him, and even more books off their shelves and on the table in stacks.



And then there's the feather. A single black feather that he's apparently been using as a book mark. He's been at this for quite some time now. So far though? No feathers. No clue as to where their cabalmate has gone.



But he's been here, looking. As if he can be found in books. And he'd likely been completely absorbed in it until Ashley walked into the house, and into the room. At which point Wharil was waiting for her to come through the door. Waiting with an odd smile on his face.



"How's it going?" Ashley asks.



"Fiiiineee..." Wharil responds. Suspiciously so.



[Ashley McGowen] He's waiting for her with an odd smile on his face, and as weighed down as Ashley is by whatever happened, she doesn't miss that. The Hermetic raises her eyebrows at him, glancing at the feather he's using to mark the book's pages, then back to his face.



On another day she might be teasing him for the decidedly inglorious manner in which he'd been attacked and held down by children. She's too tired for that today.



But that look gets a slightly bemused smile. "What are you looking at me like that for? Did you find something?"



[Wharil Choc] "No, I didn't. That's just it. You're...uh...You look like shit. But you feel...different. Back to normal, really."



He leans back in the straight back chair, tipping it a little and touching the fingers of each hand together.



"Like before the Nameless Crow, I mean. Congratulations. How do you feel?"



[Ashley McGowen] "A lot better," she says, and it wouldn't be remiss to say that she looks pleased that he noticed. A smile surfaces. Ashley takes a seat on the edge of the desk; she's short enough that she has to raise herself onto the edge rather than the other way around. "Less...hollow, I guess." It seems to have done more for her than that, really; she's confident again, that persistent sense of melancholy, of futility, is gone.



"It was actually..." She pauses, looks over at him for a few seconds. "Have you had much of a chance to talk to Catherine yet? You should, if you haven't. She let me hear music."



[Wharil Choc] "Catherine as in...the node, Catherine?" That has his attention. "You spoke to her? Directly to her? I wasn't even aware that you knew how to perceive the spirit world, let alone interact with it."



[Ashley McGowen] "I used the Ars Mentis," she says. "I mean, she's...conscious, in her way, and has a Mind I could join with. She made it sound like she could communicate to others without it, though. You should go and try speaking with her. Israel and Solomon both have."



There's a pause, and her expression is a little solemn again when she looks back at him. "I don't know how much you've heard about the demon, but she invited me to talk to her at length after a couple of High Umbrood got in here a couple of weeks ago. She asked for my protection. Well, not just mine, but I couldn't speak for everyone else."



[Administrator] Wharil Choc has left Chantry



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



[Wharil Choc] "Huh." He says, quite surprised. And then, disturbed. He brushes at his hairless chin (when did he have time to shave?) and his eyes did that wandering thing that made him look a little bit crazy when he brought his brows down low like that.



"High Umbrood. Here. We should have gone with Rene's advice."



And then, he turns to the books on his table. Fingers picking up the feather and brushing at the fibers. Their only real clue.



"I should have been more aware."



[Ashley McGowen] "It was quick," she says, with a look toward him that is probably meant to be reassuring. Given that it's Ashley, well. "I barely even had any warning before they were trying to possess me." Trying, she says, because of course they didn't succeed: Ashley prides herself on her Will, it would have been a sad thing if they had.



"I was suspicious too, at first," she adds, "but Catherine's...a good thing. I can't really even describe it." There's another glance to him, quick. "I haven't heard music since I woke up."



[Wharil Choc] Wharil gives a half incredulous, half impressed "Really?" And then proceeds to measure Ashley with his eyes for a while.



"The node convinced you that she was worth protecting. Alright. This...has me curious."



And finally the books each close in their heavy, thumping, dust lifting way.



"This is something I have to try." He says with a smile, hands now moving to support the back of his head. The smile fades. The feather peaks out from between the pages.



"Gregor's not here for it though. And...well...without him...I don't know that I could take his place."



[Ashley McGowen] "Really," she says, and then, "Paradox. It was a backlash that never really went away. Just sounds like really unpleasant noise." It doesn't appear to be a happy topic. Or one on which she's prepared to say a lot.



She folds her hands in her lap, looking down at her feet, which are dangling down off the side of the desk. They don't come anywhere near the floor. "You can talk with her without Gregor. The guardian spirit...he's more of a pain in the ass, I think, but Catherine herself should be willing to talk to you."



She draws one of her legs up, wraps an arm around it, the ball of her foot pressed into the edge of the desk. "The demon that caused the bridge collapse last week, he invited me and some others to come talk to him over the weekend."



[Wharil Choc] "Uh..." A gaping mouth was the only real response to that sort of statement. No matter who you were.



"So uh...tell me more about that."



[Ashley McGowen] "Well, first," Ashley says, with a wry twist of the mouth, "Solomon Ward called a meeting the night of the collapse and right after we got the invitations. He happened to tell me in front of everyone there that I was the default Deacon of the chantry and had certain obligations. Which is one of the things I -also- wanted to talk to you about."



There's a wry twist of the mouth, another look to him. What she intends isn't that hard to guess at.



"But as for the meeting itself," and what humor and good nature was in her expression fades rapidly, "it was me and a few others. Solomon, Emily, Nathan, Owen and Atlas. I don't know why he picked us. So first he sat us down and told us this Paradise Lost type story. Tried to convince me that I wanted to shack up with the infernal. All of us told him he was wasting his time."



She pauses, hesitates. Looks over toward him, letting him respond before she continues. It's clear that she's trying to ready herself to talk about something anyway.



[Wharil Choc] "Default deacon, eh? Hm. Well congratulations."



He listens to the rest, smiling less when Ashley does. Frowning more as she goes on.



"Wait, wait. Solomon tried to convince you of this? That doesn't sound like him."



[Ashley McGowen] "No, I meant the demon did," she says, furrowing her eyebrows. "At the meeting with him. Sorry. I wasn't as specific as I should have been. I'm surprised Solomon managed to stick around through the story at all. He was pissed."



[Wharil Choc] "Oh. That sounds more like it. Go on, tell me more."



[Ashley McGowen] Ashley sighs, and she isn't looking at him at this point. The Hermetic has chosen to direct her focus elsewhere, because watching facial expressions while you tell this kind of story, being aware that there's someone else in the room at all, makes the telling harder. It's the first time she's spoken of it to anyone since it happened: she's telling Wharil because he's her cabal mate, because he should know.



"After he got done with his story he asked us to follow him, and his assistant took us to a separate room and left us there." Ashley lifts a hand to her temple, rubs at it, rests her elbow on her knee. Still doesn't look at him. "This is going to sound over the top, like a...I don't even know. But there was...okay. There was a group of Sleepers we didn't know that he had behind a glass wall. In there with this swarm of devouring insects. And he'd picked up my mother and someone Solomon knew...former girlfriend, I think. The assistant told us to pick who got to live, and told me that if we swore to a geas to not impede his efforts in the city, everyone got to go home."



Ashley bites at the inside of her cheek a few times. She still isn't looking over at Wharil, has chosen instead to focus on the edge of the feather, now. "...Like I said. Over the top." One might suppose she needs to say it, for the distance.



"So we refused. All of them started killing guards. I got shot - " she presses fingertips to her ribs - "so did Solomon. Emily killed someone. I kept the swarm away from the Sleepers, and we got all of them out. My mother and Solomon's...well, whatever she was. They didn't. We didn't see him after that."



[Wharil Choc] Wharil is quiet for a long time. He doesn't look at Ashley. He doesn't mind that she doesn't look at him. He's not smiling, but his leg does shake slightly up and down. It had been making that rhythmic thumping sound when she got to 'swarm of devouring insects.'



Nearly a full minute goes by and he doesn't say anything. Simply steeples his fingers and lets out a heavy sigh.



[Ashley McGowen] Ashley doesn't rush to fill the silence either. It was a hard story to tell in the first place: her mother is dead, and they hadn't spoken very much since she was little. Phone calls every few weeks, but nothing extensive. Nothing personal. She's still not looking at Wharil.



Her voice didn't thicken during the story, and she didn't tear up. It's less from a lack of emotion and more from simple exhaustion, at this point. Wharil's a Euthanatos: he knows how to read the tells of grief, knows the different forms it takes as intimately as he knows the Chodana. He also knows that it passes with time and acceptance.



Ashley gives him time to absorb it. She isn't in a rush to speak.



[Wharil Choc] "How did he find them? How did he find you? Any of you?"



Finally he leans forward, elbows on knees but knees still shaking. His eyes seem to scrutinize something in the far corner of the library room.



"A step ahead. And active. Which is what we need to be."



And then the leg stops shaking.



"Starting with defense. Israel and I were discussing the structure of the Chantry's governance. We need to accellarate that. We need Sentinels."



[Ashley McGowen] "I don't know how he found us. That's part of what bothers me," and here she is finally looking back at him again, having been shaken away from thoughts (memories) of her mother. "Unless he has my True Name, I should be difficult for just about...anyone to track. So either he's strong enough that it doesn't even -matter,- or he has my True Name." And, clearly, neither of those thoughts is a thought she likes.



"And...I agree, on the matter of chantry positions. We need to be organized right now." Ashley pauses, taps her thumbs together where her hands are still folded in her lap, one on top of the other. "I also resent being in charge only when it suits other people. So I intend to move toward making it official. But it isn't something I wanted to do without letting you know what I was doing."



The Hermetic lets out a short sigh, adjusts how she's sitting on the desk so that she's facing him a bit more easily. Turned toward him (and close enough that if his damn leg starts shaking again she can put her foot on top of it. It's making her nervous.) "Did you and Israel talk about how Sentinels were going to be selected? Or how -any- of the positions were going to be selected?"



[Wharil Choc] "By vote." He says with a nod. "Selected mainly from among the Cabals. With assistance from...well, whoever wants to lend assistance. How the Cabals choose to select their candidates is up to them. But everyone needs to have a hand in our protection at some point or another.



"We also agreed on a council made up of a single representative from each cabal. Emissaries. That way instead of the entire Mage society sitting in a room shouting at each other, its just four people in a room shouting at each other.



"Oh. And a single, trusted, capable Node tender and Head Librarian. With authority to name assistance, as usual."



[Ashley McGowen] Ashley nods, slowly, as he tells her about the positions they've selected. "Emissaries sound like a really good idea, after that last meeting," she says with a sigh. "I really hate meetings." Her mouth quirks into a grin then, turned in Wharil's direction, almost companionable in spite of recent events, recent topics of conversation. "With emissaries, I can just make you go instead."



There's a thoughtful pause, and she raises a hand, tugging at her lower lip. "I think the sooner we get this done, the better. I also think if we call another meeting in the middle of this, we're going to get lynched."



[Wharil Choc] "Well then...I'll approach the cabals personally. We'll start with the Emissaries. Have them name them there, and then we'll meet."



He nods, and stands as if he were about to go do that right now.



"In the meantime, if you could double check on the wards....just to be on the safe side, y'know? And perhaps, maybe even talk to Catherine about powering them. Just to be on the safe side."



[Ashley McGowen] "I'll see what I can do," she says. "I need to speak to Solomon about laying down wards for Umbrood, too. Mine only guard from the physical."



Ashley is quiet for a moment. Wharil has risen from his seat but she hasn't pushed herself off the desk yet, is still quiet. Still a little subdued: it'll take her a bit to get herself together enough to start doing what she has to do. "There's someone I'd like you to meet, by the way. Li Daiyu. She's an Akashic...she says she wants to protect and fight for the chantry. My dad fought with her in the Ascension War a while back and he said she's worthwhile."



[Wharil Choc] "Li Daiyu. Hm. The...little asian girl? When we were...um...the one that helped with the kids?"



His head tilts to one side, eyes leveling on Ashley.



"You're considering inviting her? Into the society, I mean."



[Ashley McGowen] "I'm thinking about it," she says. "I mean, I'd like to know her a little better, obviously, and it's as much your decision as mine...but there's just the two of us right now. Besides...we really need people who know how to fight."



Ashley doesn't. A lot of people here don't. Saturday night made that painfully obvious, and the fresh scar tissue through her torso is an aching reminder.



What she adds, after a beat, is, "Wharil. I'd like to see more of you than just when I need you for something. We're cabal mates, we should be friends."



[Wharil Choc] That last statement--if any of the things tonight had taken him by surprise it might have been that last statement. Obviously, there's some confusion as to how he should respond to it. For a while he just stands there, looking more than a little stupid.



"Uh...I...Uh...Right. I mean...you're right. Of course you're right."



And again, the awkward silence. Another glance at the desk covered with books. The one book, with the black feather peaking out from among the quills.



"I'll make an effort. I really will."



[Ashley McGowen] Wharil seems...surprised? Confused? Maybe. Ashley can't quite parse out the complexities of his response. Reading people, knowing them, isn't her specialty, after all - it's his.



(For a second or two she almost expects him to bust out 'friends? what are friends?' Something similar. Do Euthanatoi not get the concept? Crazy bastards.) For a second or two she seems almost amused before she says, "Don't do it if you don't want to. Just, you know. We're cabaled together for a reason, and the other two cabals know each other really well."



There's a pragmatic angle, with Ashley. There always is. It might say something that she brought the human angle to him first, though. It says she either means it or she's gotten better at manipulating people.



[Wharil Choc] Wharil's hand reaches out to her, to touch her. To rest on her shoulder. its not a heavy hand or a very strong one, not by a long shot. But something about the sudden connection and the look in his eyes.



"No. I mean I'll make an effort. We are caballed for a reason. I haven't forgotten that. I never will."



[Ashley McGowen] She's a little startled by that look, by his words, but she does smile at them. Those expressions come more easily to her now, more often, than they have for the past half a year. (And for a while before: she had not been happy, when she arrived in Chicago. It's why the taint was so easy to sink into.) Ashley curves her arm up and places her hand firmly over his for a second or two, gives it a squeeze before she lets it fall away. Amusingly, her grip is a bit stronger than his.



"Good. I won't either." She glances up, meets his eyes for a few seconds. "I didn't thank you for all the advice with the Jhor, by the way. It did help me a lot."



[Wharil Choc] "No problem." He says with a smile, letting his hand fall away.



"If one person can benefit from my past mistakes, that makes it all worth it. So...tallyho?"



[Ashley McGowen] Ashley slides off the desk and to the floor, with a glance back at his closed books and the raven feather marking the pages. She hasn't forgotten Gregor, missing, any more than he has. But she knows he's alive, at least: managed to rend space and find his Mind, wherever it is.



"How much time -have- you been spending up here?"



[Wharil Choc] "Uh. A lot. I've been...I shower. That counts, right? And someone keeps putting food in the kitchen. it's a little scary, to be frank. I can't help but imagine Marla's ghost coming in and baking. But...I get really hungry. So..."



[Ashley McGowen] "I -was- putting food in the kitchen, when Gregor still lived here," she says, "and then I started making Morgan leave her bread here. I was worried I'd gain twenty pounds if she kept leaving it at my place. I didn't realize she was enabling your workaholism."



There's a sidelong look toward him, around the rather dusty library where he's been spending most of his time. "Gregor's alive, by the way. I found his Mind, with Kage's help. Just for a few seconds, but he's somewhere in the Umbra and he didn't want me to come after him."



The eldritch being of nightmare, something painted of pointed flesh and teeth, she doesn't mention. No need.



[Wharil Choc] "Well. That's some kind of comfort, at least."



He shrugs. Shuffles a bit in place. His gaze has found the floor again, but when he raises it and turns to her, he's smiling again.



"I guess I can give myself a break. Focus on other things."



[Ashley McGowen] "You really should," she says, turning a wry glance in his direction when his eyes find the floor, when his smile finds her a few seconds later. He'd been the one lecturing -her- about taking a vacation, about spending time doing things she does for fun, a while ago. Though the situation had been a little different (or perhaps not so different.)



"Do whatever you do for fun and try to keep your mind off of it. The apprentices have been leaving booze here. I'm surprised you didn't find it."



[Wharil Choc] "Psh! You mean those glorified wine coolers? Yeah. When they start hiding scotch in the knife and fork drawer, I'll make a big woop. Till then..."



He returns the smile, and even dips slightly to nudge Ashley with a shoulder as he heads for the door.



"C'mon. I've been practicing my sandwich making skills. Supper's on me."

Lets talk about Zombies

[Administrator]

Riley Poole, welcome to Cabrini-Green (Northside) (Now)

[Administrator]

Wharil Choc, welcome to Cabrini-Green (Northside) (Now)

[Riley Poole]

Riley didn't recognize the number that flashed across the screen of her little android phone. She picked up because it could be a customer. Not a Best Buy person, someone on the side, someone who could offer her more money to fix this computer or debug that program. The voice was sorta familiar, distantly anyway. It wasn't until the voice was identified that she remembered where she'd heard that voice before. A time was set and a location for a meeting was chosen, and now Riley is walking into a small out of the way pub just around the corner from her condo. She's dressed in a white short-sleeved button-down, the buttons undone to reveal a white camisole. Her long wavy brown hair is twisted up in a clip, jeans and black Converse high tops complete her attire. This place isn't the nicest. It's dark by coloration and from low lighting. There are tears in seat cushions, chips in the finish of the old wooden table tops. Most of the other patrons are just off from work, or down on their luck, or whatever. It's a quiet place, despite the hour. The Mages will be left more or less in peace while they discuss whatever it is they're going to discuss. There's a jukebox in the corner pumping classic rock into the room. Though it's not the same kind of place as where she met Ashley, Riley can't shake a sense of deja vu as she pushes her way through the front entrance. When Wharil arrives he'll find her sitting at a table somewhere near the center of the room, her laptop bag beneath her chair, a beer and a basket of fries sitting in front of her. She greets him with a smile when she sees him, beckons him over.

[Wharil Choc]

He's a little hard to notice at first. Its almost as if he did it on purpose, really. Was he standing outside the doors waiting for a large enough crowd of suit-wearing patrons to enter, just so that he, in his dress shirt and slacks under black jacket and black coat, could float in with them. So that he could seem to be just another face in the crowd up until the point that they settled in their own table and he sets a hand on the back of the chair opposite Riley. The smile he gives is true, they almost wrinkle young eyes made puffy from lack of sleep. The smile gleams brightly as he says her name softly. Hey Riley. Good to see you again. So that only they could hear, and anyone else looking saw two old friends. Mismatched though they were. He sits. He eyes the basket and the beer with appreciation. "Hope you haven't been waiting too long."

[Riley Poole]

He greets her like they're old friends, sits across from her as if they've known each other forever and not just met once months ago. In her own way, Riley does the same. The smile she gives him is bright and friendly and charming. Nicer and more genuine than the one she'd left her last service call wearing. She sits up a little straighter when he pulls up a chair, relaxes back when he's settled. "Not really, no," she says, though she's been there at least long enough to get a basket of fries. She pushes it a little closer to the center of the table, perfectly willing to share. "So what's this about?" she asks, not the most subtle of leading questions.

[Wharil Choc]

Wharil has some trouble getting the attention of a waitress. He looks over to them, ready to point to Riley's beer and mouth the words 'One More', but they never look over to him. They hardly even see him. He'll try again later. Right now, Riley is speaking. "I spoke to Emily Littleton the other day and she mentioned...That is, I wanted to talk to you about...well...zombies."

[Riley Poole]

She can't help the wry quirk of her mouth when Wharil tries to tell her he wants to discuss zombies. It seems strange that of all the things she's learning about the world of being a Mage, something like the undead is foreign. Ludacrous. Vaguely, she remembers the looks on Owen's and Emily's faces when she explained that night in the warehouse. Granted, she was on heavy doses of painkillers. Those looks may well have been imagined. Dreamed. Leaning forward, folding her forearms onto the table, Riley quirks a brow. A corner of her mouth lifts. "What do you want to know? I've done extensive research on the subject, mostly with John Romero movies and I've practically memorized the Zombie Survival Guide. I've even got a little real world experience."

[Wharil Choc]

Wharil's face is pleasant. And placid. He doesn't bat an eyelash at her John Romero research. He doesn't seem particularly impressed by her familiarity with the Zombie Survival Guide. But when she mentions her real world experience his smile falters, just slightly, before he smiles again brighter. Both his hands fold together, but extend with twin index fingers outward, pointing at Riley. "Lets start there. With the real world experience. What can you tell me about your run in the other night?"

[Riley Poole]

Riley lets out a soft breath of laughter, her eyes momentarily dropping to the beer in front of her. It's a brief look, a glance and nothing more. Then she's looking up, meeting that too-bright smile. She notices that his teeth are astonishingly white against the caramel color of his skin. And she takes that expression at face value. "Oh, man. Let me think. Do you want the whole story? Or just the part with the walking dead?"

[Wharil Choc]

"The whole story, actually. If you can remember, that is." Again, he glances at the waitress. Again he's ignored. He's used to it.

[Riley Poole]

It's been a couple of weeks. Some of the details are fuzzy. Others. Others stand out like they've been branded into her memory. She'll remember them when she's eight-seven. She'll remember them if she gets Alzheimer's. Casting her mind back to that night, Riley draws a low deep breath, lets her cheeks puff as she breathes it back out again. "Well, I was waiting for the train down in Bronzeville. Atlas was there. Atlas..." she pauses, eyes scrunching to remember his full name. "Dr. Mason. And someone else, an Asian man. I didn't catch his name. Anyway, the train arrives and a woman gets out, and the train just kept going. She said her name was Celine, and she was trying to find someone help her and her friend. They'd been attacked by some kind of cult. She was knocked out but her friend was taken." Another pause, but a more intentional, intent one. This had been her first moment of suspicion that night. "I remember I didn't really want to go. I don't remember why I wound up following them, but I did. She, Celine, she took us to this warehouse. I'm pretty sure the Asian guy was another mage. He said something about the people inside didn't have...I don't know, they didn't have something. Life force or ki or something. I did a Matter scan, and practically everyone inside registered as just matter. That made Atlas pretty happy. He had some kind of contraption he used to, like. Unmake the undead. One of them exploded all over me." As she explains her night among the undead, it may or may not surprise Wharil to hear her talking to him matter-of-fact. He doesn't know that, freshly Awakened apprentice that she is, she still has a healthy sense of fear when it comes to these strange happenings. She still responds to things like she's a normal human being, like she can't bend the universe to her will and she's just an average woman living an average life. "Celine turned out to be a bad guy, I guess. She was the one that brought her friend there. I was pretty out of it at the end. One of the zombies tried to squeeze me to death. Atlas was there, though. If you haven't talked to him already, he might remember her little evil boss speech." Finally, she takes up her glass and takes a sip.

[Wharil Choc]

As Riley begins to talk Wharil leays his hands flat on the table, palms pressing against the scarred wood. He listens intently, not interrupting or interjecting, except for the occasional lift of an eyebrow. "Hm. You might be talking about Charlie. Charlie McGee, I think his name is. One of the Warring Hands. So...One of them exploded? Did they engage the group of you, or did you attack first?"

[Riley Poole]

"Warring Hands." Riley takes up a fry, stares at it intently. "He did have some pretty amazing kung fu moves. Unless Warring Hands means something else." She doesn't elaborate on wha that might be, however. "Um. I think they attacked us first. The guys went in first." She pops half the fry into her mouth and chews.

[Wharil Choc]

He nods once. Was it confirmation? Had he learned something? Had she? He doesn't go on to clarify. He just goes on. "Was anybody bitten? Did any of them try biting any of you?"

[Riley Poole]

"Hm. I don't think so, not that I know of, anyway. I think I was the only one that got hurt." No shame there. Riley is a twig, a tall skinny slip of a thing. If she were being cast in an RPG, she certainly wouldn't be a brawler class. "To be honest, I don't think they were zombies in the traditional sense, if there even is a traditional sense. They were just people who, y'know...weren't alive."

[Wharil Choc]

"People not alive but walking around. That's pretty much the traditional sense. But if it was just a random gathering they'd have been driven by their base instincts. Hunger being one of those." Wharil's eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke. His eyes also wandered, to a space not on Riley but just slightly away from her. Just past her shoulder. It seemed as if he weren't really talking to Riley. He was just talking. Jut a little something for his body to do while his mind went on walkabout. "These weren't. Which means...Wait. What happened to Celine?"

[Riley Poole]

She knows that look, has seen it before on other faces, has felt herself do it. The look of active thinking. Riley can practically hear the gears grinding in his head. She doesn't interrupt, just waits patiently for his focus to come back to her, to the conversation at hand. Zombies. What a world she's found herself in. "She died. Or she was already dead. I remember her talking, and then she just crumpled." She wraps her hands around the cool glass, starts to turn it between her palms. "Her friend died, too. I don't know what happened after that. I needed a doctor."

[Wharil Choc]

"Hm. So...Atlas? Or Charlie. The hunt continues. Thanks Riley." Wharil's hands curl back up again, even as he pulls them away from the table. "You've been a great help."