[Administrator] Wharil Choc, welcome to Chantry (Now)
[Administrator] Ashley, welcome to Chantry (Now)
[Ashley] The chantryhouse is always quiet in the early afternoon. It's often when Ashley drops by, just because it's the time when she's assured of not being bothered, of not being taken aside by someone who has a problem they want her to hear about or wants to catch her up on the latest disaster - or just rumors, as is often the case. She hates rumors, hates spreading them and hates being treated like a town crier, but somehow she's a walking rumor mill.
So it's quiet, and the likelihood of being able to speak to her cabal mate without interruption this early is fairly high. Ashley's had other reasons for seeking Wharil out. Now that the meeting is over with and political positions have been settled on, there are extra reasons.
Ashley looks for him in the library first. Wharil's been spending a worrisome amount of time shut away, and she doesn't know whether or not he's started to right himself. She probably just hasn't been speaking to the right people. Quietly, she ponders the irony of role reversal.
The Hermetic shows up with a paper bag, folded at the top, cradled on one hip, and looks in. If he's not there, she searches the house. If he's not in the chantry at all, well, she calls him and invites him to come by, and bribes him with lunch.
[Wharil Choc] He's not in the library. Not when she arrives at least. There is evidence of him having been there. The library's coppy of the Rigveda has been moved again since the meeting in the library; laid out before a seat facing the door and then closed again. But as for any other sign of the Euthanatos...
There's sound coming inside. External sound itrickling its way into the most internal of the halls and corridors. Perhaps someone left a window open somewhere, but it sounded more like it was coming from the kitchen and seemed more likely that the back door there was open.
Its there that Wharil is, standing just on the patio, his shoes in his hands, his hair sopping and glinging to him. He's wriggling his toes, squishing them between grass and mud as he looks up toward the sky, catching raindrops with his eyelids every so often.
[Ashley] The Rigveda is eyed with interest, investigated and briefly flipped through, before she reminds herself that she didn't come here to see what Wharil was reading. Still: the tomes that the Euthanatos prize highly are books that she's never read and knows very little about, which in and of itself makes her curious, makes the thought that she should sit down and figure them out herself one day somewhat irresistible.
She heads downstairs, tilts an ear when she hears that trickling. Ashley's directional hearing is very poor. She only has the one working ear. So it takes her a minute to wander, but when she heads back to the kitchen and sees the door open, she sets the bag down on the kitchen table.
Ashley doesn't let rain stop her from going out and walking every day - actually, she rather likes it, though she has to be in a certain mood. So going out into it doesn't bother her. She tugs her shoes free, pulls her socks off (it's a pain in the ass when those get waterlogged, after all) and heads out onto the patio, walking up around his left so that she can see him. And for a while, she doesn't say anything, just stands there in the rain.
[Wharil Choc] There's a glance down as Ashley approaches, and then he's back to staring up.
"Y'know, after th first couple times, snow really loses its charm. But all take rain any day. Wet, mucky, drenching rain. And on a hot day like this? God, it reminds me of home."
He opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue and hoping a few drops land on the surface. He smacks his lips when they do.
"Mind you, throw in a few floating, bloated livestock and a few more waterlogged zombies, and it'll remind me of South-East Asia."
Finally, his attention turns back to Ashley completely.
"You're gonna catch a cold."
[Ashley] "It didn't rain like this in Boston," she says. "Not usually." She's not raising her face to it, but she holds out a hand, watching the water strike her palm, pool in the hollow, watches it dapple the freckled skin of her forearm.
"Where are you from?" Because it occurs to her, in that second, that she's known him a year, and she doesn't know.
He turns his attention back to her, says she'll catch a cold, and the glance the Hermetic gives him is wryly amused. "It's too warm to worry about that," she says, "but we can head in, if you want to. I brought lunch. Some curry and samosas."
[Wharil Choc] "Southern Yucatan. Quintanaroo, actually. Until I was fifteen. My parents tried their best to get me a proper education and wound up with a curious kid who couldn't stand the village life anymore."
He does an odd thing with his face as he starts heading back in. He smiles, and then he frowns exaggeratedly. And then he shakes it off all together.
"My grandfather said I was ungrateful. Said I'd broken his heart when I left. It was the last thing he said to me before he died."
Wharil takes a moment at the threshold, tossing in his shoes first, and wringing out the corners of his shirt and what he could of his pants.
"How'd you know I loved samosas?"
[Ashley] He tells her about the Yucatan, about his grandfather, and Ashley glances up out of the corner of her eye at him as they head inside. There's something a little inscrutable in her expression for a few seconds, something that verges on understanding, before she says, "I'm sorry," and then adds, "He probably regretted saying it."
A beat, because these things are reciprocal, before she says, "My mother was really upset when I moved to Boston to be with my dad, after she remarried. But she lived in this coastal town that was mostly factory work and fishermen, and, well..."
She trails off, pauses to flick damp hair out of her eyes as she steps back inside the house. She wasn't out as long as he was; her clothes aren't soaked, just damp in places, along the tops of her thighs and shoulders and her chest. She ignores it, shakes water off of her feet in a manner that is amusingly catlike.
She smirks over at him. "Well, I like Indian a lot, actually," she says, "so you just got lucky."
[Wharil Choc] "Lucky me indeed" he says with a smile, and walks over toward the bags Ashley had set down.
"Oh, by the way. You wouldn't happen to have met an awakened in the city named Lara by any chance?"
[Ashley] Ashley heads over to the bags, too, reaching down to open the stapled flap and pull the smaller bags out. There's a container of curry - chicken, probably - and another bag of samosas. Once they've been freed, she steps over to the cabinets to get some bowls and forks.
She pauses, if briefly, in pulling things down when Lara's name is mentioned, and Wharil gets an almost wary look shot in his direction.
"I know her, yeah. There was a lot of drama with her a couple of weeks back, actually. I had to ban her from the chantry for a week, and she kept a lot of things both from me and from other people she was staying with. Why?"
[Wharil Choc] "Oh?" Now he's really interested, and it shows on his face. "What kind of things?"
[Ashley] Ashley sets the bowls and forks on the table, uses a spoon to add some of the curry into both bowls. Talking about the subject has brought no small amount of irritation to the surface. Not at him, but her dark eyebrows furrow together, and there's a frown tugging at one corner of her mouth as she speaks.
"Molly found out about it, and Israel confirmed it," she says. "I decided to let Israel deal with her directly, since she doesn't respond well to me. But I guess there was a Master - a Euthanatos - whose Avatar fragmented. Lara got a piece of it and the Master wants it back, obviously, and Lara is pretty sure the Master will kill her. And has killed other people, in trying to get to her. From what I've been told I suspect the Master is pretty heavily Jhor tainted."
She slides a bowl toward him, sits down at the table and takes a couple of the samosas. Doesn't eat yet, though, in favor of leaning back in the chair and looking over at him while she explains. "Lara didn't let us know about any of this. I guess the bit of the Master's soul she has is exerting its influence over her own personality, besides...but she's done some pretty fucking cowardly things. There was a guy she was staying with, who was trying to protect her, and when the Master showed up, she watched the Master kill him, didn't do anything, and just ran away afterwards."
Ashley waves a hand and adds, "This is all separate from the fact that she's manipulative and passive aggressive and I've heard things about her using the Ars Mentis on other people without their consent. If she weren't just going to become someone else's problem or a bigger problem for us, I'd throw her out."
[Wharil Choc] "Well" he says with a sense of finality, and fishes his phone out of his pocket. "That changes everything. I was considering offering her refuge. And perhaps providing some kind of shielding from any attempts to find her."
He has to wipe the screen off at first, clearing just a bit of moisture before he goes through the motions of typing up and sending off a text message.
"Alex, the new kid, he brought it to my attention the other day. Thought we should do something about it. We, being the Euthanatos. I told him we would. I'll have to see if I can make good on that promise."
Message sent, he takes up a fork and begins to root around his bowl.
"If my connections say they can handle it then...we might not need to strain ourselves too much."
[Ashley] "I wouldn't offer her shelter," Ashley says, shaking her head. "I mean...I -do- intend to make sure that she gets this settled, because I don't think having a pissed off Jhor tainted Master running around is good for anybody, but I want to make sure that -she- confronts this. We shouldn't do it for her, especially with all the people she's been willing to use and throw under the bus."
If her words weren't enough to communicate her disgust, her tone does. Ashley wrinkles her nose and picks up her fork.
"I mean...that said. It's your Tradition, so I'll trust you to handle it if you think it's better that you do it instead of her. I just wouldn't put it past her to fuck you over and run if she felt at all at risk."
[Wharil Choc] "We don't know enough just yet though. For all we know...she might not have any control over it. It is a master we're talking about, after all. She probably has abilities we have yet to even fathom."
He spears a chunk of meat on the tip of his fork.
"Hm. Good Curry, though."
[Ashley] "I might believe that, if the rest of her behavior I've seen weren't completely in line with it," Ashley says, with a shake of her head. "I mean...maybe that's not her either, but if that's the case, there really isn't much of -her- left, you know?"
There's a sigh before she transfers some of the curry to her mouth, chews quietly. "I like the place I got it from," she says.
There's a pause, and then she says, "What did you think of how the meeting went?"
[Wharil Choc] "What's there to think? Multiple minds meeting in a room. No bloodshed. Clear, measurable outcome. That's a damn good meeting by my standards."
[Ashley] "I suppose so," she says. "I have the feeling there's going to be bad feelings from Israel and Solomon, though, about Ashton being elected to Sentinel."
It's something she knew would likely happen, and something he likely knew would happen, when they agreed to do it. Still: she hasn't spoken to Israel yet. Ashley doesn't like politics, just views them as a necessary evil, and if there's fallout she isn't looking forward to it.
A beat. "I'm...I'm not really happy with the way my job got shuffled around, either, honestly. I'm still going to have all the responsibility I did before. With half the authority." She shakes her head, takes a bite of one of the samosas. "Otherwise I'd say it went well."
[Wharil Choc] "Israel, no. I'm sure she saw it coming from the very first time Solomon exploded in front of all of us. The tension in the room subsided since then, but it certainly hasn't gone away. She's very perceptive, that woman. In ways I've only seen in..."
He smiles there, between bites and chews and swallows of curry. Its a particularly smug smile.
"Solomon on the other hand...He's still too unpredictable for my liking. Personally, I hope this doesn't sour things within their own Cabal.
"And you...yes. You got the short end, I think. You get to be everybody's least favorite person. You should get a habit and a ruler to smack people's knuckles with. But! Try to look at it objectively. If it were anyone else in the position, perhaps someone you didn't quite trust but managed to lobby enough to get the right votes, would you want them having that much authority?
"I know its a bit over-altruistic and possibly naive a thought but...what we're doing now, we're doing for the future of this place. After we've moved on."
[Ashley] "I don't know if she did. That's the problem," Ashley says with a sigh. "She and Solomon are really close. I don't think she realizes how unpredictable he seems to everybody else." A beat. "She and Solomon beat the hell out of Basil on chantry grounds a couple of months ago. They said he threatened them, but I talked to Emily...there wasn't a threat. Solomon read too much into what Basil said and overreacted. He's a loose cannon."
She thinks about the rest of what he says for a second, and then a pair of blue eyes flick over in his direction. Mildly surprised, their anger fading.
"...I guess I didn't think of it that way. I mean...yeah. When I go, I guess there might not be anybody who'd be suitable as a deacon." Ashley trusts herself. But she does remember Marla and Jackson all too well. She frowns again, a little, and says, "I feel like I've worked hard and I...I've been responsible and people look to me, even, so I can't say I'm -happy- about it. But it's a good point."
Another beat, another moment of quiet chewing. "...Thanks."
[Wharil Choc] And to that, he smiles proudly.
"For communicating ideas and giving a clear picture to my cabal? Just doin' my job."
And eats some more, though he eyes the samosas for a moment.
"Curious thing happened to me on the way from work the other day. I saw a spirit. Wasn't looking for it, I just...saw a spirit, manifested. It rode the body of a homeless man. Manipulated his emotions. Compelled him to find other people. Then...he mutilated himself in front of them. Cut himself with a box cutter. Made them watch while he begged for help.
And then there were five of them, riding five other people.
After I'd tracked them down I did some research. There's a name for them, in sanscrit. Eaters of Sorrow. I've been calling them grief mongers though.
"I think one of them hitched a ride in a group of awakened. I'd never seen them before though. One was named Thomas, the other named Molly. You and Alex both have mentioned Molly now. Might be the same person.
There was another one too. Short girl. Really short. She was fighting off a grief monger physically. I don't need to tell you that's...impressive."
[Ashley] Ashley listens, interested, finishing the rest of the samosa she has while he talks. Noticing the way he's eying the bag, she nudges it toward him with her other hand. There are quite a few in there. Warm still, in spite of the walk over.
"I didn't realize spirits could have that kind of effect on the mind," she says. "I should really try to educate myself on them, though. It's sort of frowned on when my House learns it, because we have a messy history with it, but..." A shrug. There really aren't a lot of other Hermetics here to call her on it, to worry.
"Basil said a really short woman showed up here without permission for entry," she adds. "I wonder if it's the same one. I was already looking for her."
She looks thoughtfully toward him. "So the spirits...do they basically feed on people who are unstable, or what?"
[Wharil Choc] "Nnnnoo. Well, my research said they can't survive in the absence of sorrow, but...my research material is also thousands of years old and translated through three different languages. But, it was a clue. It seems they have create some sort of sorrow in their victims; grief, depression, etcetera; before they make themselves at home. And then they spread, like a disease. That's what the whole mutilation was. For all those people watching the homeless man mutilate himself that might have been a perfectly normal, mentally balanced day in a string of perfectly normal, mentally balanced days. Seeing the man cut himself, though, hearing him scream? That little seed of pity, disgust, or fear was enough for them to take root.
"In the case of that Thomas guy...I'd lost track of one of the victims and he'd just walked into traffic. Thomas tried to comfort him." He looks sad for a moment, prodding again at the curry in the bowl without eating. "He died in his arms." He says, and pushes the bowl away.
"I think I like him. Thomas, I mean."
And instead, he reaches for the bag of Samosas.
"Anyway, what's really remarkable is that they were even there at all. Everything I've found say these things don't exist in the physical world. They don't walk around and hop on people's heads. Usually they find other ways in, either called by someone or something powerful as a punishment, or they sneak in through dreams. And yet, here they were, doing just that.
"That demon...I don't know if its completely over yet. Just like with D--the crow, there may be a lot of residual cleanup that needs to get done."
[Ashley] She raises her eyebrows, listening, pondering. It makes sense to her, even if she isn't altogether sure what there is to be done, short of tracking down individual spirits, short of trying to establish a foothold with the Sleepers in the city.
About Thomas trying to comfort the man, about the man dying in Thomas' arms, Ashley sighs. Runs a hand through the hair at the back of her neck. There isn't a great deal of sadness there - she doesn't have much to spare, when it's not someone she has a personal stake in - but she is momentarily disquieted. Then she says, "I like Thomas too. I drank with him for a couple of hours. He sort of reminds me of me, when I was younger. Minus the Cockney accent and...you know, his chav-ness, but all the same."
Her mouth quirks a moment, as though she's trying to detract from what he just told her about the spirits, to turn her thoughts away. "But...them being here as fallout of what happened with Edom would make a lot of sense. Is there something I can do to help you?" There's a thoughtful pause as she takes another forkful of curry. "...Do a ritual to fortify Sleepers citywide, maybe, until you can track down the source of the problem, and deny them a foothold."
[Wharil Choc] "Eh, the grief mongers, they were just an outbreak. I'm pretty certain I rounded them all up. Nothing in the news out of the ordinary since then. No highly public mutilations or mass suicide so...I think we're good.
"Besides, the entire city? I think that would attract the wrong kind of attention. We're not the only ones in this city, remember?
"No, I think we just need to be vigilant."
[Ashley] She nods, at that. Nods again when he brings up the point that they aren't the only ones in this city: she tends not to think about things like that. "Then I'll be vigilant. I'll let you know if I hear about anything."
She pauses and looks over at him, and says, "I'm going to be in Boston for a little while, by the way. Not too long, but I have an acquaintance who is going to mentor me in the Ars Mentis. And I may be...well, I'm thinking about training with the Verbena, too," she adds, and that's almost hesitant. Other Hermetics would not approve of her training with another Tradition; she is still exploring the option.
"So I may be gone for a bit longer than I think I'm going to be. But I'll let you know, and if I'm needed here it shouldn't be too difficult for me to get a Hermes Portal back."
[Wharil Choc] "You mentioned. The Verbena? Huh. You really are covering all your bases, aren't you?
"A Hermes portal? Uh...I don't think I'm ready to know what that is just yet. Do you need anything? For your trip?"
[Ashley] "I don't know, yet," she says, of the Verbena. "Holding membership to two Traditions, especially if they're that different, sounds like it would be a lot of work I don't have to do. But I'm going to talk to them, at least."
"A Hermes Portal is just the Ars Conjunctionis. You basically open a gate to wherever and step through," she adds. "I can Stride...maybe across the city, but I can't do anything like that yet." Still, it's really only a matter of time. "I don't think I'm going to need anything. Things seem...kind of relatively quiet here, so it seems like as good a time to go as any."
[Wharil Choc] He bites into a samosa, squinting a single eye at her in a confused expression as she goes on about striding and conjunctionis and...
"Riiight. Well, its gonna be quite the adventure without you around here, I think. Though, I guess we should decide on Li Daiyu before you go too."
[Ashley] Ashley misses the confused look; she's still happily working her way through the curry. He's lucky he didn't get her started on her theories -behind- the Ars Conjunctionis, which is a discussion that might have spanned fifteen minutes or more: this, at least, he has been spared.
She nods. "Yeah, we should. Have you gotten a chance to talk to her?" She pauses, then adds, "When and if you decide that you're ready to bring her in, I am."
[Wharil Choc] "I haven't no. But, I'll hold that as a standing yes vote. Personally, I'd like it if there were more of us but...You work with what you've got."
[Ashley] "...Hopefully we'll hear something from Gregor," she says, prodding for a few seconds at what's left of the rice and sauce.
There's a glance up and over at him, quick, but she meets his eyes. "You seem like you're doing better, though." It was actually why she came out to the chantry to find him. She doesn't say that.
[Wharil Choc] "Better than what?" He asks quickly, reaching for another samosa.
[Ashley] "Than staying in the library and leaving to shower," she says, with another look in his direction, this one tinged with wry amusement. "Hell, you worried -me.-"
Having abandoned the curry, she too reaches for another samosa, though she seems content to let him keep the bag.
[Wharil Choc] "Oh. Yeah. That. We all have our moments, I guess. Have you met the kid, by the way? Turnquist?"
[Ashley] When Alex is mentioned she nods, taking a bite of the samosa she just picked up. "I met him last week. He's still very much an apprentice, but I think once he grows up some and gets some more experience he'll do well. He's not a coward, which is a good start."
She pauses, brushing some crumbs from the thigh of her jeans with one hand. "I'm glad Daiyu called attention to him, though. He seems like he really does need mentorship. I mean, you guys...with Jhor and everything like that..."
[Wharil Choc] "He's too little a coward. That's the trouble with him. Sometimes...sometimes we should pay attention to our fears instead of pushing on through them all the time.
"But...he'll be alright, I think. I hope, that is."
[Ashley] "You don't gain anything by hanging back. Even if you push through, and something terrible happens, it's worth it in the end. It tests you." It was largely her approach when she looked into Dylan's mind: she's proved herself right, in her own way. Even if most of her allies and friends seem to agree that she herself could use a little more caution.
"He'll be okay. I have every confidence in you and Ashton to mentor him."
[Wharil Choc] He opens his mouth, about to say something, but hesitates. In the end he just smiles, and takes another bite of the samosa.
"Thanks for lunch, by the way. The rate I was going I was likely to forget."
[Ashley] [Do I notice this? +1 for being emotionally special.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Ashley] "You're welcome," she tells him. "People buy me food...a lot, really, so I figured I was probably due."
There's a second's silence as she brushes her hands together to free them of crumbs, and one last look in his direction. "What?"
[Wharil Choc] He looks up from his samosa just then, eyebrows raised. Then, simply shakes his head.
"Mm. Nothing. Just...a bit of flagging confidence. But your own confidence means a lot. A whole lot. Thanks."
[Ashley] Ashley raises her eyebrows at that, leans a shoulder into the back of her seat, and eyes him in a manner that might suggest that the very idea of self-doubt is totally foreign to her. She certainly manages to act as though it is, anyway.
She says, "Why? You're a Disciple, and we've...I mean, look how much we've dealt with in the past year. We've built a city, and you're always working on your own projects, and...I mean, I probably wouldn't have dealt with the Jhor as well as I did without you helping me. Alex is lucky to have somebody competent around to teach him."
Beat. "And, just so I never have to say that shit again, I wouldn't be here if I didn't think highly of you. So if I don't walk, assume you have my confidence."
[Wharil Choc] He shrugs, popping the last of the samosa he was eating into his mouth and brushing off his fingers before placing palms flat on the counter.
"Sorry. Its an old caveat I obviously missed. You spend too much time looking at the cracks and you'll miss the beauty of the thing."
Finally that smile breaks out again. That true smile that makes his eyes smaller, but just as bright.
"Don't get all bent out of shape. I promise, you'll never have to say that shit again."
[Ashley] "Don't apologize," she tells him. He gets a grin in response, the sort that indicates she'd still probably say it again (well, if she had to.) She gets up to take dishes to the sink, leaving him with the samosa remnants (there's still a good half a bag) and glances out the window to see whether the rain has let up.
It's walkable, at least, and she has clothing to pack together still. Books to gather. So Wharil gets a hug, albeit a brief one, and the addition of, "I should go get my stuff together. Call me if the node blows up, or...you know, I'm not going to even joke about it." A touch of wry weariness, that.
And, unless he has something else to grab her for, once everything is cleaned up she'll tug her shoes back on and make her way out of the chantryhouse.
[Administrator] Ashley has left Chantry
[Administrator] Ashley, welcome to Chantry (Now)
[Ashley] The chantryhouse is always quiet in the early afternoon. It's often when Ashley drops by, just because it's the time when she's assured of not being bothered, of not being taken aside by someone who has a problem they want her to hear about or wants to catch her up on the latest disaster - or just rumors, as is often the case. She hates rumors, hates spreading them and hates being treated like a town crier, but somehow she's a walking rumor mill.
So it's quiet, and the likelihood of being able to speak to her cabal mate without interruption this early is fairly high. Ashley's had other reasons for seeking Wharil out. Now that the meeting is over with and political positions have been settled on, there are extra reasons.
Ashley looks for him in the library first. Wharil's been spending a worrisome amount of time shut away, and she doesn't know whether or not he's started to right himself. She probably just hasn't been speaking to the right people. Quietly, she ponders the irony of role reversal.
The Hermetic shows up with a paper bag, folded at the top, cradled on one hip, and looks in. If he's not there, she searches the house. If he's not in the chantry at all, well, she calls him and invites him to come by, and bribes him with lunch.
[Wharil Choc] He's not in the library. Not when she arrives at least. There is evidence of him having been there. The library's coppy of the Rigveda has been moved again since the meeting in the library; laid out before a seat facing the door and then closed again. But as for any other sign of the Euthanatos...
There's sound coming inside. External sound itrickling its way into the most internal of the halls and corridors. Perhaps someone left a window open somewhere, but it sounded more like it was coming from the kitchen and seemed more likely that the back door there was open.
Its there that Wharil is, standing just on the patio, his shoes in his hands, his hair sopping and glinging to him. He's wriggling his toes, squishing them between grass and mud as he looks up toward the sky, catching raindrops with his eyelids every so often.
[Ashley] The Rigveda is eyed with interest, investigated and briefly flipped through, before she reminds herself that she didn't come here to see what Wharil was reading. Still: the tomes that the Euthanatos prize highly are books that she's never read and knows very little about, which in and of itself makes her curious, makes the thought that she should sit down and figure them out herself one day somewhat irresistible.
She heads downstairs, tilts an ear when she hears that trickling. Ashley's directional hearing is very poor. She only has the one working ear. So it takes her a minute to wander, but when she heads back to the kitchen and sees the door open, she sets the bag down on the kitchen table.
Ashley doesn't let rain stop her from going out and walking every day - actually, she rather likes it, though she has to be in a certain mood. So going out into it doesn't bother her. She tugs her shoes free, pulls her socks off (it's a pain in the ass when those get waterlogged, after all) and heads out onto the patio, walking up around his left so that she can see him. And for a while, she doesn't say anything, just stands there in the rain.
[Wharil Choc] There's a glance down as Ashley approaches, and then he's back to staring up.
"Y'know, after th first couple times, snow really loses its charm. But all take rain any day. Wet, mucky, drenching rain. And on a hot day like this? God, it reminds me of home."
He opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue and hoping a few drops land on the surface. He smacks his lips when they do.
"Mind you, throw in a few floating, bloated livestock and a few more waterlogged zombies, and it'll remind me of South-East Asia."
Finally, his attention turns back to Ashley completely.
"You're gonna catch a cold."
[Ashley] "It didn't rain like this in Boston," she says. "Not usually." She's not raising her face to it, but she holds out a hand, watching the water strike her palm, pool in the hollow, watches it dapple the freckled skin of her forearm.
"Where are you from?" Because it occurs to her, in that second, that she's known him a year, and she doesn't know.
He turns his attention back to her, says she'll catch a cold, and the glance the Hermetic gives him is wryly amused. "It's too warm to worry about that," she says, "but we can head in, if you want to. I brought lunch. Some curry and samosas."
[Wharil Choc] "Southern Yucatan. Quintanaroo, actually. Until I was fifteen. My parents tried their best to get me a proper education and wound up with a curious kid who couldn't stand the village life anymore."
He does an odd thing with his face as he starts heading back in. He smiles, and then he frowns exaggeratedly. And then he shakes it off all together.
"My grandfather said I was ungrateful. Said I'd broken his heart when I left. It was the last thing he said to me before he died."
Wharil takes a moment at the threshold, tossing in his shoes first, and wringing out the corners of his shirt and what he could of his pants.
"How'd you know I loved samosas?"
[Ashley] He tells her about the Yucatan, about his grandfather, and Ashley glances up out of the corner of her eye at him as they head inside. There's something a little inscrutable in her expression for a few seconds, something that verges on understanding, before she says, "I'm sorry," and then adds, "He probably regretted saying it."
A beat, because these things are reciprocal, before she says, "My mother was really upset when I moved to Boston to be with my dad, after she remarried. But she lived in this coastal town that was mostly factory work and fishermen, and, well..."
She trails off, pauses to flick damp hair out of her eyes as she steps back inside the house. She wasn't out as long as he was; her clothes aren't soaked, just damp in places, along the tops of her thighs and shoulders and her chest. She ignores it, shakes water off of her feet in a manner that is amusingly catlike.
She smirks over at him. "Well, I like Indian a lot, actually," she says, "so you just got lucky."
[Wharil Choc] "Lucky me indeed" he says with a smile, and walks over toward the bags Ashley had set down.
"Oh, by the way. You wouldn't happen to have met an awakened in the city named Lara by any chance?"
[Ashley] Ashley heads over to the bags, too, reaching down to open the stapled flap and pull the smaller bags out. There's a container of curry - chicken, probably - and another bag of samosas. Once they've been freed, she steps over to the cabinets to get some bowls and forks.
She pauses, if briefly, in pulling things down when Lara's name is mentioned, and Wharil gets an almost wary look shot in his direction.
"I know her, yeah. There was a lot of drama with her a couple of weeks back, actually. I had to ban her from the chantry for a week, and she kept a lot of things both from me and from other people she was staying with. Why?"
[Wharil Choc] "Oh?" Now he's really interested, and it shows on his face. "What kind of things?"
[Ashley] Ashley sets the bowls and forks on the table, uses a spoon to add some of the curry into both bowls. Talking about the subject has brought no small amount of irritation to the surface. Not at him, but her dark eyebrows furrow together, and there's a frown tugging at one corner of her mouth as she speaks.
"Molly found out about it, and Israel confirmed it," she says. "I decided to let Israel deal with her directly, since she doesn't respond well to me. But I guess there was a Master - a Euthanatos - whose Avatar fragmented. Lara got a piece of it and the Master wants it back, obviously, and Lara is pretty sure the Master will kill her. And has killed other people, in trying to get to her. From what I've been told I suspect the Master is pretty heavily Jhor tainted."
She slides a bowl toward him, sits down at the table and takes a couple of the samosas. Doesn't eat yet, though, in favor of leaning back in the chair and looking over at him while she explains. "Lara didn't let us know about any of this. I guess the bit of the Master's soul she has is exerting its influence over her own personality, besides...but she's done some pretty fucking cowardly things. There was a guy she was staying with, who was trying to protect her, and when the Master showed up, she watched the Master kill him, didn't do anything, and just ran away afterwards."
Ashley waves a hand and adds, "This is all separate from the fact that she's manipulative and passive aggressive and I've heard things about her using the Ars Mentis on other people without their consent. If she weren't just going to become someone else's problem or a bigger problem for us, I'd throw her out."
[Wharil Choc] "Well" he says with a sense of finality, and fishes his phone out of his pocket. "That changes everything. I was considering offering her refuge. And perhaps providing some kind of shielding from any attempts to find her."
He has to wipe the screen off at first, clearing just a bit of moisture before he goes through the motions of typing up and sending off a text message.
"Alex, the new kid, he brought it to my attention the other day. Thought we should do something about it. We, being the Euthanatos. I told him we would. I'll have to see if I can make good on that promise."
Message sent, he takes up a fork and begins to root around his bowl.
"If my connections say they can handle it then...we might not need to strain ourselves too much."
[Ashley] "I wouldn't offer her shelter," Ashley says, shaking her head. "I mean...I -do- intend to make sure that she gets this settled, because I don't think having a pissed off Jhor tainted Master running around is good for anybody, but I want to make sure that -she- confronts this. We shouldn't do it for her, especially with all the people she's been willing to use and throw under the bus."
If her words weren't enough to communicate her disgust, her tone does. Ashley wrinkles her nose and picks up her fork.
"I mean...that said. It's your Tradition, so I'll trust you to handle it if you think it's better that you do it instead of her. I just wouldn't put it past her to fuck you over and run if she felt at all at risk."
[Wharil Choc] "We don't know enough just yet though. For all we know...she might not have any control over it. It is a master we're talking about, after all. She probably has abilities we have yet to even fathom."
He spears a chunk of meat on the tip of his fork.
"Hm. Good Curry, though."
[Ashley] "I might believe that, if the rest of her behavior I've seen weren't completely in line with it," Ashley says, with a shake of her head. "I mean...maybe that's not her either, but if that's the case, there really isn't much of -her- left, you know?"
There's a sigh before she transfers some of the curry to her mouth, chews quietly. "I like the place I got it from," she says.
There's a pause, and then she says, "What did you think of how the meeting went?"
[Wharil Choc] "What's there to think? Multiple minds meeting in a room. No bloodshed. Clear, measurable outcome. That's a damn good meeting by my standards."
[Ashley] "I suppose so," she says. "I have the feeling there's going to be bad feelings from Israel and Solomon, though, about Ashton being elected to Sentinel."
It's something she knew would likely happen, and something he likely knew would happen, when they agreed to do it. Still: she hasn't spoken to Israel yet. Ashley doesn't like politics, just views them as a necessary evil, and if there's fallout she isn't looking forward to it.
A beat. "I'm...I'm not really happy with the way my job got shuffled around, either, honestly. I'm still going to have all the responsibility I did before. With half the authority." She shakes her head, takes a bite of one of the samosas. "Otherwise I'd say it went well."
[Wharil Choc] "Israel, no. I'm sure she saw it coming from the very first time Solomon exploded in front of all of us. The tension in the room subsided since then, but it certainly hasn't gone away. She's very perceptive, that woman. In ways I've only seen in..."
He smiles there, between bites and chews and swallows of curry. Its a particularly smug smile.
"Solomon on the other hand...He's still too unpredictable for my liking. Personally, I hope this doesn't sour things within their own Cabal.
"And you...yes. You got the short end, I think. You get to be everybody's least favorite person. You should get a habit and a ruler to smack people's knuckles with. But! Try to look at it objectively. If it were anyone else in the position, perhaps someone you didn't quite trust but managed to lobby enough to get the right votes, would you want them having that much authority?
"I know its a bit over-altruistic and possibly naive a thought but...what we're doing now, we're doing for the future of this place. After we've moved on."
[Ashley] "I don't know if she did. That's the problem," Ashley says with a sigh. "She and Solomon are really close. I don't think she realizes how unpredictable he seems to everybody else." A beat. "She and Solomon beat the hell out of Basil on chantry grounds a couple of months ago. They said he threatened them, but I talked to Emily...there wasn't a threat. Solomon read too much into what Basil said and overreacted. He's a loose cannon."
She thinks about the rest of what he says for a second, and then a pair of blue eyes flick over in his direction. Mildly surprised, their anger fading.
"...I guess I didn't think of it that way. I mean...yeah. When I go, I guess there might not be anybody who'd be suitable as a deacon." Ashley trusts herself. But she does remember Marla and Jackson all too well. She frowns again, a little, and says, "I feel like I've worked hard and I...I've been responsible and people look to me, even, so I can't say I'm -happy- about it. But it's a good point."
Another beat, another moment of quiet chewing. "...Thanks."
[Wharil Choc] And to that, he smiles proudly.
"For communicating ideas and giving a clear picture to my cabal? Just doin' my job."
And eats some more, though he eyes the samosas for a moment.
"Curious thing happened to me on the way from work the other day. I saw a spirit. Wasn't looking for it, I just...saw a spirit, manifested. It rode the body of a homeless man. Manipulated his emotions. Compelled him to find other people. Then...he mutilated himself in front of them. Cut himself with a box cutter. Made them watch while he begged for help.
And then there were five of them, riding five other people.
After I'd tracked them down I did some research. There's a name for them, in sanscrit. Eaters of Sorrow. I've been calling them grief mongers though.
"I think one of them hitched a ride in a group of awakened. I'd never seen them before though. One was named Thomas, the other named Molly. You and Alex both have mentioned Molly now. Might be the same person.
There was another one too. Short girl. Really short. She was fighting off a grief monger physically. I don't need to tell you that's...impressive."
[Ashley] Ashley listens, interested, finishing the rest of the samosa she has while he talks. Noticing the way he's eying the bag, she nudges it toward him with her other hand. There are quite a few in there. Warm still, in spite of the walk over.
"I didn't realize spirits could have that kind of effect on the mind," she says. "I should really try to educate myself on them, though. It's sort of frowned on when my House learns it, because we have a messy history with it, but..." A shrug. There really aren't a lot of other Hermetics here to call her on it, to worry.
"Basil said a really short woman showed up here without permission for entry," she adds. "I wonder if it's the same one. I was already looking for her."
She looks thoughtfully toward him. "So the spirits...do they basically feed on people who are unstable, or what?"
[Wharil Choc] "Nnnnoo. Well, my research said they can't survive in the absence of sorrow, but...my research material is also thousands of years old and translated through three different languages. But, it was a clue. It seems they have create some sort of sorrow in their victims; grief, depression, etcetera; before they make themselves at home. And then they spread, like a disease. That's what the whole mutilation was. For all those people watching the homeless man mutilate himself that might have been a perfectly normal, mentally balanced day in a string of perfectly normal, mentally balanced days. Seeing the man cut himself, though, hearing him scream? That little seed of pity, disgust, or fear was enough for them to take root.
"In the case of that Thomas guy...I'd lost track of one of the victims and he'd just walked into traffic. Thomas tried to comfort him." He looks sad for a moment, prodding again at the curry in the bowl without eating. "He died in his arms." He says, and pushes the bowl away.
"I think I like him. Thomas, I mean."
And instead, he reaches for the bag of Samosas.
"Anyway, what's really remarkable is that they were even there at all. Everything I've found say these things don't exist in the physical world. They don't walk around and hop on people's heads. Usually they find other ways in, either called by someone or something powerful as a punishment, or they sneak in through dreams. And yet, here they were, doing just that.
"That demon...I don't know if its completely over yet. Just like with D--the crow, there may be a lot of residual cleanup that needs to get done."
[Ashley] She raises her eyebrows, listening, pondering. It makes sense to her, even if she isn't altogether sure what there is to be done, short of tracking down individual spirits, short of trying to establish a foothold with the Sleepers in the city.
About Thomas trying to comfort the man, about the man dying in Thomas' arms, Ashley sighs. Runs a hand through the hair at the back of her neck. There isn't a great deal of sadness there - she doesn't have much to spare, when it's not someone she has a personal stake in - but she is momentarily disquieted. Then she says, "I like Thomas too. I drank with him for a couple of hours. He sort of reminds me of me, when I was younger. Minus the Cockney accent and...you know, his chav-ness, but all the same."
Her mouth quirks a moment, as though she's trying to detract from what he just told her about the spirits, to turn her thoughts away. "But...them being here as fallout of what happened with Edom would make a lot of sense. Is there something I can do to help you?" There's a thoughtful pause as she takes another forkful of curry. "...Do a ritual to fortify Sleepers citywide, maybe, until you can track down the source of the problem, and deny them a foothold."
[Wharil Choc] "Eh, the grief mongers, they were just an outbreak. I'm pretty certain I rounded them all up. Nothing in the news out of the ordinary since then. No highly public mutilations or mass suicide so...I think we're good.
"Besides, the entire city? I think that would attract the wrong kind of attention. We're not the only ones in this city, remember?
"No, I think we just need to be vigilant."
[Ashley] She nods, at that. Nods again when he brings up the point that they aren't the only ones in this city: she tends not to think about things like that. "Then I'll be vigilant. I'll let you know if I hear about anything."
She pauses and looks over at him, and says, "I'm going to be in Boston for a little while, by the way. Not too long, but I have an acquaintance who is going to mentor me in the Ars Mentis. And I may be...well, I'm thinking about training with the Verbena, too," she adds, and that's almost hesitant. Other Hermetics would not approve of her training with another Tradition; she is still exploring the option.
"So I may be gone for a bit longer than I think I'm going to be. But I'll let you know, and if I'm needed here it shouldn't be too difficult for me to get a Hermes Portal back."
[Wharil Choc] "You mentioned. The Verbena? Huh. You really are covering all your bases, aren't you?
"A Hermes portal? Uh...I don't think I'm ready to know what that is just yet. Do you need anything? For your trip?"
[Ashley] "I don't know, yet," she says, of the Verbena. "Holding membership to two Traditions, especially if they're that different, sounds like it would be a lot of work I don't have to do. But I'm going to talk to them, at least."
"A Hermes Portal is just the Ars Conjunctionis. You basically open a gate to wherever and step through," she adds. "I can Stride...maybe across the city, but I can't do anything like that yet." Still, it's really only a matter of time. "I don't think I'm going to need anything. Things seem...kind of relatively quiet here, so it seems like as good a time to go as any."
[Wharil Choc] He bites into a samosa, squinting a single eye at her in a confused expression as she goes on about striding and conjunctionis and...
"Riiight. Well, its gonna be quite the adventure without you around here, I think. Though, I guess we should decide on Li Daiyu before you go too."
[Ashley] Ashley misses the confused look; she's still happily working her way through the curry. He's lucky he didn't get her started on her theories -behind- the Ars Conjunctionis, which is a discussion that might have spanned fifteen minutes or more: this, at least, he has been spared.
She nods. "Yeah, we should. Have you gotten a chance to talk to her?" She pauses, then adds, "When and if you decide that you're ready to bring her in, I am."
[Wharil Choc] "I haven't no. But, I'll hold that as a standing yes vote. Personally, I'd like it if there were more of us but...You work with what you've got."
[Ashley] "...Hopefully we'll hear something from Gregor," she says, prodding for a few seconds at what's left of the rice and sauce.
There's a glance up and over at him, quick, but she meets his eyes. "You seem like you're doing better, though." It was actually why she came out to the chantry to find him. She doesn't say that.
[Wharil Choc] "Better than what?" He asks quickly, reaching for another samosa.
[Ashley] "Than staying in the library and leaving to shower," she says, with another look in his direction, this one tinged with wry amusement. "Hell, you worried -me.-"
Having abandoned the curry, she too reaches for another samosa, though she seems content to let him keep the bag.
[Wharil Choc] "Oh. Yeah. That. We all have our moments, I guess. Have you met the kid, by the way? Turnquist?"
[Ashley] When Alex is mentioned she nods, taking a bite of the samosa she just picked up. "I met him last week. He's still very much an apprentice, but I think once he grows up some and gets some more experience he'll do well. He's not a coward, which is a good start."
She pauses, brushing some crumbs from the thigh of her jeans with one hand. "I'm glad Daiyu called attention to him, though. He seems like he really does need mentorship. I mean, you guys...with Jhor and everything like that..."
[Wharil Choc] "He's too little a coward. That's the trouble with him. Sometimes...sometimes we should pay attention to our fears instead of pushing on through them all the time.
"But...he'll be alright, I think. I hope, that is."
[Ashley] "You don't gain anything by hanging back. Even if you push through, and something terrible happens, it's worth it in the end. It tests you." It was largely her approach when she looked into Dylan's mind: she's proved herself right, in her own way. Even if most of her allies and friends seem to agree that she herself could use a little more caution.
"He'll be okay. I have every confidence in you and Ashton to mentor him."
[Wharil Choc] He opens his mouth, about to say something, but hesitates. In the end he just smiles, and takes another bite of the samosa.
"Thanks for lunch, by the way. The rate I was going I was likely to forget."
[Ashley] [Do I notice this? +1 for being emotionally special.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Ashley] "You're welcome," she tells him. "People buy me food...a lot, really, so I figured I was probably due."
There's a second's silence as she brushes her hands together to free them of crumbs, and one last look in his direction. "What?"
[Wharil Choc] He looks up from his samosa just then, eyebrows raised. Then, simply shakes his head.
"Mm. Nothing. Just...a bit of flagging confidence. But your own confidence means a lot. A whole lot. Thanks."
[Ashley] Ashley raises her eyebrows at that, leans a shoulder into the back of her seat, and eyes him in a manner that might suggest that the very idea of self-doubt is totally foreign to her. She certainly manages to act as though it is, anyway.
She says, "Why? You're a Disciple, and we've...I mean, look how much we've dealt with in the past year. We've built a city, and you're always working on your own projects, and...I mean, I probably wouldn't have dealt with the Jhor as well as I did without you helping me. Alex is lucky to have somebody competent around to teach him."
Beat. "And, just so I never have to say that shit again, I wouldn't be here if I didn't think highly of you. So if I don't walk, assume you have my confidence."
[Wharil Choc] He shrugs, popping the last of the samosa he was eating into his mouth and brushing off his fingers before placing palms flat on the counter.
"Sorry. Its an old caveat I obviously missed. You spend too much time looking at the cracks and you'll miss the beauty of the thing."
Finally that smile breaks out again. That true smile that makes his eyes smaller, but just as bright.
"Don't get all bent out of shape. I promise, you'll never have to say that shit again."
[Ashley] "Don't apologize," she tells him. He gets a grin in response, the sort that indicates she'd still probably say it again (well, if she had to.) She gets up to take dishes to the sink, leaving him with the samosa remnants (there's still a good half a bag) and glances out the window to see whether the rain has let up.
It's walkable, at least, and she has clothing to pack together still. Books to gather. So Wharil gets a hug, albeit a brief one, and the addition of, "I should go get my stuff together. Call me if the node blows up, or...you know, I'm not going to even joke about it." A touch of wry weariness, that.
And, unless he has something else to grab her for, once everything is cleaned up she'll tug her shoes back on and make her way out of the chantryhouse.
[Administrator] Ashley has left Chantry
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