[Storm Child] These months are long and hard. The nights are long and the moonlight only just seems to touch the faces of those who gaze with their faces upturned upon Her light. It doesn't fill their eyes, blaze with the brilliance of the sun. It is a thing reflected. This time of year is reflective. It is night-bathed and the ground is cold. And the wind is cold. And the storms that rise up are bitter, harsh, relentless. These months are long and hard, and it is in these dark times that we remember most what we have sundered, what we have lost.
Kae's head is bent when she approaches the building, and one hand holds the front of her jacket cold. Her breath is a steady pulse of tiny clouds, birthed of unspoken syllables, threading into nothing and dispersing into the night. It isn't so much that she yields to the weather as there's no point to fighting the chill between the swing-slam of the truck's massive door and the sound her hand makes when she raps her knuckles on the door.
She is slight, but she fills the space so well with the sounds of her coming. She knows how to make the door sing with the backs of her knuckles. She knows how to make it yield to her Will. Today she's just visiting, though, and the soles of her boots are not meant to walk paths between this world and the next.
I'm in the area, she'd said. I'd like to drop by.
There was a time when the Verbena Disciple was skittish and wide-eyed. When her song was a thing sequestered in the shape that side-long looks took between friends. Now the song-storm builds around her, crest, breaks, and rises again. There is no denying that she is Other, that she is elemental and that the soul of all of this is very, very old.
And yet, the pattern she beats out on Ashley's door is shave and a hair cut. Recognizable to almost anyone. Possibly even the Adept who has lost her sense of rhythm and melody.
[Ashley McGowen] The sharp raps do not string into anything coherent for the Adept within. The notes she hears in her Awakened life are singular things, dissonant: like hearing syllables without being able to wrap them together into words and sentences, as though each sound existed on its own. So she hears the knocks, but can't discern any type of pattern, and it doesn't matter.
She's leaving early tomorrow with Kage, so early that it's often when she's gone to bed over the long, quiet nights that have made up this year.
Jarod, too, received a call when Kae had asked to stop by. One disciple has asked to meet the other, or at least has expressed an interest in doing so, and while Ashley isn't sure of whether Jarod is doing anything right now she can at least be assured of his being in town. She suspects that he might even be grateful for the reprive; Ashley has heard tales about what it's like to have a large family (bigger than two) and it's difficult for her to fathom the chaos.
Kae hasn't had occasion to meet Zane, and the thud of a canine body makes the wooden door shiver. Ashley has given up hope that the dog will ever learn that he skids when he tries to run across the stretch of hardwood between the carpet and the doorway.
If the holiday is weighing on her, it at least doesn't show on her face when she opens the door. This month has, in some ways, been the most difficult since August: Kage has been scarce and so has Israel, the tension between herself and Emily has deepened and there have been few other distractions. And winter is coming. But she's walked through them before.
Her hair is rumpled as though she's been running a hand back through it and gripping it most of the night. Studies or a thesis deadline, maybe: she didn't have a lecture to give today, and this is the time of year when any TA walks about with a glazed look.
"Hey, Kae," she says, holding the door open and nudging Zane aside in order to let the disciple through. "Come in."
[Storm Child] If the thump of Zane against door alarmed Kae in anyway, it didn't show in the woman's expression when Ashley opened the door. She does glance down, just after smiling at Ashley, to make sure there weren't any other surprises before she stepped into the Adept's apartment.
"Evening, Ashley." The Disciple closes the door after her, slips her hands into her pockets. "Thanks for having me."
She notices the rumpled look and the somewhat glazed graduate student aura. This is probably what prompts her to ask: "Don't you get the week off from University? I thought that was fairly standard practice."
There was faint confusion in Kae's voice, but it threaded through the words and rendered their meaning unmistakably benign. When her fingers had warmed, she shrugged out of her coat, glanced around the space in an approving manner, and moved a little more out of the entryway. Kae reached down to scrub the top of Zane's head affectionately, but not until she'd offered him fingertips to sniff and approve of.
"How have you been?" she asks, without an expectation of good or bad news. It's an open, honest, genuine question. There's weight to that. Not too much, not too little: like baby bear's porridge it is just enough.
[Jarod Nightingale] December was fast approaching, and with it... winter. This time of year had memories attached to it. It was pain and loss and loneliness, and it was also hope, beauty and new beginnings (the washing away - the purifying of old wounds.) Yesterday, for the first time this year, the air outside had felt well and truly frozen. Tonight it was warmer though, and instead of snow, there was freezing rain. Not one of the best nights to venture out into the city, but Jarod had always been fairly tolerant of bad weather. At least, he had been since his apprenticeship. He'd brought an umbrella, and was thus spared the worst of the cold, dreary wetness.
There was no reprieve necessary, in this instance, as his family had all departed for their respective homes (Madison, Boston, Dallas) the day after his birthday a couple of weeks prior. They'd never intended to stay long. None of them ever did. This was the way of things, with the Nightingales. Dana had stayed on, though. She would remain his guest through Christmas and into the New Year. As such, it was she who was watching Ilana now, as Jarod made the outing to Ashley's apartment. Given the complicated and often strained relationship that he'd had with members of his Tradition in the past, one might have expected that he'd feel trepidation regarding this meeting, but he did not.
Though one would not be able to say that he was really in the best of moods, either. But this had nothing to do with Ashley, or her new Verbena mentor. When he reached the door to Ashley's apartment (having been let inside the front by a grad student smoking a cigarette), his knock was short, firm and business-like. And when the Hermetic answered, he'd have a charming smile ready to offer up.
[Ashley McGowen] Fairly standard practice, says Kae, and Ashley gives her a look of long suffering as her eyes roll heavenward. She can be as expressive as the disciple sometimes, and she doesn't need the words for that look to say Oh. You know how it is. "Official break at Northwestern doesn't start until Wednesday at six," she says, "and I have an afternoon class. But I told them to go be free."
Nobody collegiate likes this time of year. It's the time of rushing to get things in before the end of the semester, of dealing with at least four or five students from every class who have a special situation and want special considerations for it, for students whose printers mysteriously broke down or who couldn't e-mail because their server at home decided to crash or...well. She's heard everything, and given that a quarter of her student body considers her adorable, she's had to give a lot of strict refusals.
"I've been all right," she says, after a pause. "I'm leaving for Boston with a friend of mine really early tomorrow so my dad isn't on his own." A beat. "I've been trying to pay attention to what you said. It isn't as easy as it sounded."
She admits this with an ease that most would find surprising. Hermetics are known for being arrogant and Ashley doesn't exactly buck the trend, but she can approach things with humility when it's necessary, it would seem. An overinflated sense of self works to one's disadvantage more often than not (and this is not a Tradition sentiment she picked up from the Hermetics. But she has seen its pragmatism.)
A moment later the other disciple knocks (and Zane is met with the door, again.) Ashley shuffles the dog off to the side and meets Jarod's smile with a half-one of her own. "Hey," she says, holding the door open for him. And once he's inside, "Jarod, this is Kae. Kae, Jarod."
[Storm Child] This Disciple is a scant five-three, fair-haired with locks that used to tumble in loose curls and were now cajoled into a short, straight crop. She has piercing grey-green eyes, like sea glass, like whispers. There's nothing immediately Eldritch about her, but he can feel it wrapped around her like the suggestion of a summer storm. They cannot hide in plain sight; she is witch born.
She is also fairly gifted in a language not borne of words and phrases. Her smile spreads, warms, shifts; there is recognition for his name in her eyes, notable because her attention piques. Her head cants just slightly to one side and Kae has to look up, up to meet his eyes, which she does without hesitation or any measurable shyness.
"Ah, yes," she says, which is either your reputation preceeds you or so we meet at last. "It's good to meet you. I've heard your name a few times," she says. It intimates. Nothing in particular, but that suggestion is enough to curl the corner or smiles or raise eyebrows -- Kaeley knows. She leaves it like that, intentionally.
She does glance at Ashley now, and having shrugged out of her jacket she asks, "May I?" before setting it down over the arm of a chair or looking about for a place to hang it up. This flat does not have the natural cadence of the farm house, not for Kaeley, no yet.
"And no," she says, belatedly backtracking. "It never is. I'm glad you've started, though. It gets easier. And then it's thoughtless, like instinct becomes."
[Jarod Nightingale] His avoidance of Zane was an almost effortless dance. It was not the clear dislike of someone who lacked experience or understanding of animals, but rather the aloof arrogance of a creature that was certain of his own place at the top of the food chain. This was the way that wild animals might think of domesticated ones - like an inbred second cousin that held only the most tenuous of familial similarity. A creature to be pitied for its lack of independence and muted instinct.
Or maybe he really was just a man who didn't like dogs very much. In either case, he didn't really acknowledge the mutt's presence, and he kept neatly out of the way of Zane's curious nose. It helped that Ashley's dog was both even tempered and well trained. He probably picked up fairly quickly on the fact that Jarod had no interest in saying hello.
Kae, though... she received the full weight of the other Disciple's attention for a moment. The nature of her expression, and the tone of her voice, were not missed. Neither was the crackle of storm energy that seemed to hover around her. He'd known men and women like this before - witches in the oldest and truest sense. In a way, it was almost comforting. It reminded him of England, and of Richmond Park, and long walks taken with his great aunt.
Like her, he could never entirely hide his true nature. Like her, there was something not-quite-human about him - a cat in the man's clothing. Not a house cat, to be sure. Something older and much more feral. On the outside, though, he was all urban chic, even tonight, when the weather was bad and he was dressed down. When he took off his coat, a fitted black sweater was revealed, atop a white buttoned shirt.
"Only bad things, I hope," he responded to her greeting in kind. He left his shoes by the door so as not to track wet footprints into Ashley's apartment, then found himself a seat on the sofa, whereupon he set about rolling up the sleeves of his layered shirts. (There was a tattoo on one arm, but if it had meaning, it wasn't related to the Verbena.)
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley takes their coats from them, opening the door to the closet that stands just inside the doorway. It's empty save for the three jackets that are hers; other than that it's filled with white racks that sway and click like bones when she shuffles them aside to hang their outergarments up.
Jarod, who has the distinction of being the one mage Zane hasn't charmed, avoids the dog and after a little while he gives up and makes his way over to lie down on the carpet. He settles with a sigh, occasionally glancing between the three in the room.
"This is the first time I've tried to learn a new Art in a while," Ashley admits as she follows Jarod into the living space and settles into one of the chairs across from the sofa. She draws her knees up to her chest, letting her elbows rest across them. From where she is right now they're both in view of her right eye; finding these sorts of spots in the room is second nature for her, by now. She trusts them both but, like most people, prefers to be able to look at someone while she's speaking with them. "I woke up knowing almost all of the ones I know now."
Which, perhaps, is working slightly to her disadvantage. She listens to the exchange between Jarod and Kae, quiet, and after a moment offers to Jarod, "I've mentioned a little of the conversation we've had so far, mostly." When she hasn't been irritated at his abrupt manner of leaving conversations or - well. For as much as these two have common points in how they look at things, they're as likely to fight like a pair of cats shut in the same carrier as they are to speak nicely to each other.
[Storm Child] That and more, says the slight loft of her eyebrows toward the other Disciple, paired with an openly amused smile. If she took his manner of dress to be indicative of his metaphysical style, Kaeley made no outward note of it. Likewise she assumed he could not (would not) judge her by her simple attire.
Jarod took a seat on the sofa and Ashley claimed a chair. Kaeley sat at the other end of the sofa, which brought her past Jarod. It was always interesting to meet others of their Tradition. In many ways, she knew less of what to expect from him then she would have of any other group. They were not cohesive, really. There was no single driving ideology, not really. Verbena was some catch-all heading that the Hermetics had grouped the Old Faiths under hundreds of council meetings ago and no one had really created a better system since then.
Anarchists, all of them. Decentralized theological and politcal power. Working with her Traditionmates was like herding cats -- a particularly apt expression in this case, it seemed -- so she didn't do a whole lot of it.
Teaching with them. Well. That was even worse.
"Even the Arts you well-know can be honed through Attention," she says, resting one arm against the back of her couch and turning her body toward the center of the conversation somewhat.
"I'd be interested to hear your thoughts, Jarod," she says, effortlessly folding him into the conversation. Of course, between members of the Tradition that could be taken as something of a taunt. She means it just the way it sounds: Kaeley enjoys open discourse, she'd like to know how he sees things.
"And I'd like to know what you're noticing," she says this to Ashley, but it's more of a curiosity than asking after a direct report.
[Jarod Nightingale] [What, me? I'm just here to look pretty. (Subterfuge)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Jarod Nightingale] They'd gotten along better back when they were first getting to know each other, Jarod and Ashley. Though, in truth, neither of them really knew the other all that well at all, despite the fact that they'd slept together twice and had a couple of very interesting conversations. Jarod had convinced Ashley to read him a poem, once. (Or a fragment of one.) He was better in moments like that, or when they'd met in the book store and he'd been all curious, flirtatious charm. They'd both changed since that encounter. Ashley was no longer unsure of herself around him, and he'd begun to find himself invested in this place, and the people who lived here. It meant that things were not always pleasant and easy between them. And yes... sometimes they did fight like a pair of cats shut in the same carrier.
(Though Jarod would have observed that he thought Ashley fought more like a pit-bull.)
Before falling in with Kae, Ashley had asked Jarod to help her learn his Art. He'd turned her down (and in a somewhat frustrating and condescending manner, to boot.) So perhaps one might expect him to be annoyed by this turn of events - that Ashley had found what she was looking for in another Verbena Disciple who'd proved more amenable to teaching her - but if he was, he didn't show it. Ashley's business was her own, and he would hardly have been considered a representative of his entire Tradition. (As Kae knew well, they were a disparate lot on the best of days.)
Jarod smirked a little when Ashley mentioned having told Kae about their conversations. But then Kae asked him for his views on the matter, deliberately placing him in a position that Ashley would know he was probably not entirely comfortable with. He didn't behave as if he was, though. Instead he shrugged lightly and leaned back against the sofa cushions, stretching out long, graceful limbs. His hands threaded together behind his head, elbows in the air. A very relaxed pose.
"Ashley hasn't sought to include me in her lessons any time recently. I suspect she prefers a mentor who actually answers her questions." (There was some self-effacing humor here.) "But I'm sure she'll figure it out eventually. She's a smart girl. And more aware of her body than most Hermetics."
His tone at the end might have been read as insinuating, but if so, it was subtle enough not to be overtly rude, and could easily escape the notice of anyone not paying close attention. Interesting, too, that he chose to interpret the question in this manner.
[Ashley McGowen] When Kae asks Jarod for his thoughts Ashley's gaze moves over to the man sitting on her sofa, attentive. Perhaps interested in seeing whether or not he'll answer Kae more directly than he's ever answered her. She hasn't seen him interact with any of his Traditionmates before except for Alice, who had been close to death when she'd called him over in February. He'd come, and he'd told Ashley later that he wouldn't have helped if it hadn't been clear that she would die without some kind of aid.
It was the first seemingly contradictory thing she'd observed about him, in fact.
Regardless, she knows he's not just here to look pretty, no matter how he's stretching and lounging on the couch right now: it was why she'd asked him to teach, initially. (Maybe she took it a touch personally that he refused. Hermetics don't refuse a student unless they're somehow defective [and Jarod hadn't been wrong about how she was thinking, still.]) So she listens.
And his response has her flicking an annoyed glance in his direction. She could have made a response to him, but doesn't, choosing instead to let it segue into her response to Kae. "I've been noticing my own reactions, mainly," she tells Kae. "Like you said to start with."
Ashley is often a little more thorough in answering questions, but she's brief with this one; a touch self-conscious, perhaps, or still irritated, or both.
[Storm Child] There's a faint snort from the woman beside him on the sofa when Jarod avows that Ashley hasn't sought his counsel in some time. It's paired with a faintly amused purse of her lips; if they'd known each other better she would have rolled her eyes as well. As it is, Kae pinned him with a particular Look, and then shrugged and glanced away from him and toward Ashley.
"It's the best place to start. Not just because they're the most readily accessible, but because you know more about the background noise that colors them and the stimuli that direct them. Of course, it's good to branch out now and then. Perhaps if your friend doesn't wish to teach," she says, and it is most definitely a lilting taunt just now, "He'd be more willing to be the subject of study."
It was Jarod who'd brought mention of Ashley's awarenesses into play, and his lounge on her sofa spoke to other things. Kaeley navigated the unspoked currents of conversation better than most, but it didn't mean she had patience for his particular brand of aloofness.
Which was probably rare, given that Jarod was a striking specimen of the human condition. Most people probably yielded to whatever it was he wanted them to think of him.
"I'm just trying to think of ways to help you progress, of course," she says, to absolve herself of all possible implied social injustices. "By necessity, we tend to be rather aware of the effect we have on other people. You two could be good sounding boards for one another. Academically, I mean."
[Jarod Nightingale] [What is this capitalized Look I'm seeing, here?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Storm Child] This Look he's asking after is not so much a thing described in words as one felt, directly. As if she were measuring him up in one fast estimate, and finding him to be far greater than the sum of his apparent parts. Then comes, of necessity, a sort of impatience with his impassivity toward his friend's education. This Look is just this side of a should, it is not quite the shape of an ought, but it's a sighed suffering and frustration with a brilliance she sees inside of him that just does not want to shine.
It's the frustration, then, of knowing that everyone has a right to their own path, to self-determination, to opinions and actions that Kaeley has no claim to. And yet still wishing that everyone she knew was brave enough and willing to live with their heart in their hands, their best foot forward.
He was Tradition to her, but not tradition. They walked very different paths. From what she has heard, he refused to teach and his assumption is that she has given more freely of the mysteries they are charged to keep.
It's not so.
In short, he knows better than to try that sort of not-really-my-problem, lazy but watchful cat, feline sipping cream off the top of a conversation to which it does not deign to contribute stance with her.
This Look, it's not so much seen as felt. It's no so much the shade of her eyes, but she shape her her sigh. It's not the pointedness of her attention, but its duration. It's everything but that should she wouldn't rest on his shoulders. Because he could, by the very nature of being what he was, be so much more right here, and right now.
Old Tradition? Hell yes, she was. All about rights and responsibilities and cause and effect? You betcha. Patient, tolerant, level headed, an harm ye none? No. Not quite. Never was, not likely to be.
It's a Look. It says as much of this as he is skilled enough to read. It leaves out a lot. Sometimes being Looked at is more about the subject than the observer. What will Jarod see in the way she's seeing him? What will he do with it?
to Jarod Nightingale
[Jarod Nightingale] Point in fact, people usually did yield to whatever it was that he wanted them to think of him. One might wonder why he'd be interested in giving the impression that he was an arrogant, self-absorbed prat, but this assumption usually made life easier for him. People he didn't like tended to leave him alone, and the rest, well... they were just that much less likely to bother to try and get to know him.
(Besides, he was an arrogant, self-absorbed prat. And anyone who might know otherwise was unlikely to have occasion to refute the claim.)
But he and Kae seemed to have a fundamental difference of opinion regarding the purpose of this meeting, as well as what might be considered acceptable to discuss in front of an untrusted stranger. She had no patience for smoke and mirrors (many Verbena did not - he was used to that.) She had no patience for his lack of involvement, and his question dodging. And this was her right, but so too was it his not to accommodate her. He didn't offer up the core of himself for free. It came with effort, in bits and pieces over time. It came with trust, and respect. He'd known her for all of 3 minutes. Ashley had known him for months, and had only managed to acquire small, scattered pieces of him.
This was the behavior of someone who couldn't afford to be open, whether he wanted to be or not. He spent his life - largely alone - in the thick of people and places that threatened to overtake and destroy him (sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally.) He would be dead by now (many times over) if he hadn't trained himself to this kind of behavior. It wasn't something that was likely to change any time soon.
So, he noticed the look she sent him, but he ignored it. (Or seemed to.) When Kae suggested that he might be the subject of Ashley's studies, he laughed quietly. When she observed that they might prove good sounding boards for each other, he didn't respond. His hands unfolded and found their way slowly back into his lap.
"That would rather depend on precisely what it is you wish from me."
[Ashley McGowen] It's difficult for an Adept to sit here and be talked about as though she is an apprentice (because she is an apprentice, as far as they are concerned.) The astute observer has occasionally noticed that Ashley has very little confidence in her ability to be liked, but with her Will it doesn't matter: she has, with very few exceptions, always been respected. She knows how to make that respect translate into getting other people to do things for her (another reason she might have taken Jarod's refusal a touch personally.)
Which isn't to say that neither of them respect her right now (in fact, if Kae, at least, did not, she probably wouldn't be trying to educate the Hermetic in the first place), but it isn't quite of the sort she's gotten used to in Chicago.
It's trying her patience, but for all that she holds her tongue. Tries to remember that she's new on this road and of course they're going to be discussing her like some fresh-faced eighteen year old. She bears being talked about by two people she outranks in the Traditions with all the dignity she can manage.
And Kae's insinuations have her rubbing the back of her neck and glancing elsewhere. After a moment she says, with only a touch of reluctance, "I'll do whatever you think will help."
[Storm Child] Kaeley studied Jarod for a long moment. All manner of thoughts crossed her mind, and that was easy enough to read in the expression she wore. Her mind changed course about as quick as lightning struck, keeping track of the trails of the things that she noticed when she noticed what he did and didn't want her to see was daunting. She didn't try to hold onto them any more than she would wrest with the tail of a kite in a storm.
She wasn't here for him, however certain she was that he needed something and however willing she might have been to see to that need if he had but asked. This... study fades into a lingering sort of sadness, a diminshed chord, that progresses, resolves back to the theme she'd originally set out upon.
"In truth, I don't know what will help you. I woke up knee deep in all of this, like we've spoken to. My entire Awakened life has been steeped in blood and the ebb and flow of lives around me. You've built a body of work around other Arts, and show promise in this but it's time, more than anything, that brings that awareness forward.
"I had hoped that you would have competing viewpoints to consider, as I've always found your Tradition to be somewhat academic and debate is valuable in that setting.
"I have hoped that marking the seasons, and the shifts in yourself would be helpful. I know that it does not entirely seems fair, to put the onus on your shoulders for your own Epiphany, but this Art isn't one that any of us can simply put your finger along a pulse point and give you an awareness of. I think you're warming to it, though. I see the changes."
She's at a bit of a loss, now. The quiet that follows leaves it open for Ashley to question, to push. For Jarod to contribute, but she's not hanging her side of the discussion on that now. He's whatever he will be. She's here for Ashley.
[Jarod Nightingale] Suggestions had been broached, but when it came time to elaborate, Kae fell strangely silent. Perhaps she'd decided that he simply wasn't worth the effort it took to cajole him into doing things that he seemed clearly uninterested in participating in. In truth, though, he would not be here if he was uninterested.
But he could not offer Ashley the things that she wanted. Not really. Not as more than an occasional, pragmatic adviser. Anything deeper or more committed was out of the scope of possibility. So it was probably better not to encourage them to think that he might. All the same, he did offer something now, small though it was (and for whatever it was worth.)
"She's right. It won't be the same for you as it was for Kae, or for me. It's good to learn to listen to your body. But... I already told you that." A faint smile, here. He'd told her once that she needed to listen to her blood. That it was honest. (That it was the only thing that was.)
They were uncomfortable around him. His presence changed the dynamic by virtue of the fact that he was an unknown and closed entity within their circle, and will-workers could not work properly together if they didn't trust each other. That was something he understood, and respected, so if the women wanted to get down to the business of teaching, he wasn't going to needlessly stand in their way. A nod to the two as he stood and walked over to collect his coat from the closet. "I think this will be easier for you if I'm not here."
His tone was gentle, rather than offended. It was an observation, and he didn't take it personally. After sliding his arms back into his coat and slipping shoes back on his feet, he bid the pair of them farewell. "It was lovely to meet you Kae. Perhaps we'll have a chance to talk again sometime. Goodnight Ashley."
[Ashley McGowen] In truth, Jarod's helped her quite a bit more than he probably thinks he has. Their meeting in the bookstore had been enough to make her curious about the path in the first place, enough to make her wonder - not to doubt the Order of Hermes, but to suspect that if she wanted to become her Word, she might need more than the teachings the Order of Hermes offered. What he told her about her blood sent her thoughts along a tangent.
He was right about her being a smart girl (even if it was a touch condescending.) She doesn't need very much in order to begin to connect the dots for herself, sometimes. It's just a slow process, trying to bridge her Hermetic teachings with the new things she's started to notice and realize for herself. She has to fight harder for it.
So there's no resentment from her at least, and when he offers up what he offers up she just nods in his direction. "Maybe I'll seek someone out in Boston while I'm there, to get a differing viewpoint," she offers. Other people might have phrased it as a question or asked Kae if she thought it would help; Ashley knows it would, because she knows that it's good to have beliefs challenged, to get a wide variety of thoughts and arguments in order to judge their strength. She says it rather than simply doing it on her own as a courtesy and because Kae might have additional insight to offer. Maybe she knows someone in Boston.
Jarod is leaving, though, and Ashley's brows furrow but she doesn't try to stop him. From what she's seen of Jarod it would be a rather fruitless endeavor and Ashley isn't the sort to make requests (or the type to force him, not if there isn't a good reason.)
"Thanks for coming, Jarod," she says. "Good night."
[Storm Child] "Have a happy Thanksgiving," she tells him, when he rises to leave. The other Verbena's gaze tracks him in the small space, and when that relents she is no doubt as aware of his placement as she is of her own hands. That is not particular to their tradition, it's the way of many magi. "It was nice to meet you, too."
This is an odd segue, but it offers them all a convenient break. Ashley phrases her statement in an open manner, for Ashley, and Kae nods her agreement. "I think that's a wise course of action. There's also a lot of interesting history in the area. For laughter's sake, you could check out the witchcraft museum in Salem."
A smirk. That erodes into seriousness again.
"New England's rather strong with the Old Faiths. You'll find a lot more if it there than here. If that sort of thing calls to you, go exploring. You may find something in the midst of their woods you can't find here. The Atlantic is a compelling sea, for its sea change is so dramatic.
"More than that, though, these are the holidays you've likely been taught to keep. Watch how you mark them, who you mark them with, who you miss when they are absent. Even the small things can help; maybe especially the small things."
[Jarod Nightingale] Kae mentioned Thanksgiving, and there was a curl of a smirk that touched his lips. He obscured the meaning of it, so it wasn't really clear if he found it funny that she celebrated Thanksgiving, or if he found the idea of himself celebrating it fairly ridiculous, or if the entire exchange just struck him as odd. (Probably a combination of all three.)
And with that, he grabbed his umbrella and headed out into night, and the cold rain once more.
[Ashley McGowen] There are absences this year, and she is going to notice them. Ashley doesn't need to say that: Kae has already been made aware of the way she's walked this year, and that it was a hard one. Ashley raises her hand to her mouth and bites down on the pad of her thumb, probably not hard enough to hurt overmuch, but thoughtful, while her gaze trails away to a corner of the room.
"I'll talk to someone, then," she says. "There's another Adept there of an impressive reputation, and I could try him or one of his students, but, uh. I guess my former cabalmates and their mentor had some, uh, some entanglements that...well. I'm not really sure how I'd be received," she says.
They're difficult Traditions to bridge for a lot of reasons. The differing viewpoints is one of them, but the politics between the two Traditions has already caused her a considerable amount of trouble. The Order would frown on any one of its members adopting two Traditions, moreso than most Traditions probably would, and the political backlash will be considerable. She already knows this. She's already accepted it, and accepted that it will be hard.
"But I'll do all of that."
[Storm Child] She considered this for a long while, whetted her lips and then offered:
"If you need to you can mention you're working with me. Don't stay studying, as I rarely take students, and within the Tradition I use my family name. It's been awhile, but the Dyer name should still hold some weight in New England. Though give me a heads up, if you do, as I'm sure I'd be hearing from someone before long."
She smiles a bit, but it's a little less easy. This is something she would not have offered a month ago.
[Ashley McGowen] If the truth must be said, Ashley is not sure of how much Kae's name would help, and she is more certain of this the more she thinks on it. She has heard from Justine what happened with Gwenna Lake, and she can't imagine a warm reception from people Justine Noble and Bran Summers shot and trussed and threw in their basement. At worst she might be asked to play peacemaker, and Ashley isn't ideally suited to acts of diplomacy.
"Thanks," she says, perhaps aware that it isn't easy for Kae to make that offer. Beat. "On a scale of one to ten, how much is it going to cause problems with a potential initiation if they start a fight?" She knows the Verbena are less connected from city to city than the Order of Hermes, but she isn't sure of precisely how much.
Better not to risk it if hostilities look likely, in other words.
[Storm Child] [Ahahaha, you think I care what they think? I mean. WP. Don't laugh Kaeley D.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Storm Child] Kaeley's eyebrows go up. Then they slow settle back down to their rightful place. She pointedly does not laugh, but she considers it. She wants to. Her whole body wants to and that expression has to go somewhere. First into the movement of her hand, which signs a quick and immediate No. Secondly into the shift of her mouth, how it tugged into a small frown, then recanted. Then, only then, into words.
"If you think that any mage alive has call to tell me who I will or will not bring into my tradition, and through that into my Tradition, then you are sorely mistaken. I am a creature of my own immanent and divine will, manifest in my dominion, and keeper of the secrets entrusted to me. No other is. If your initiation creates political tension, I won't give a damn. If you decide you're ready to claim your birth right, and you can walk the middle path, and keep the mysteries, who is going to stop you from Initiating yourself?"
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was about as much as Kaeley ever kowtowed to Tradition politics. Which might explain why she was a solitary at heart, and in practice, before all else.
[Ashley McGowen] The Order of Hermes is infamous for cutthroat politics. Any mage who wants to do well in the Order learns how to deal with them to some extent; Ashley does well in the Order, and though she has a distaste for them (because it so often requires being mindful of what she says and when she says it) she understands, to some extent, political workings. These are things Hermetics would care about - but not so the Verbena, apparently, or at least Kae.
A fact of which Ashley is quite appreciative.
"Good," is her response in all its brevity. Then, "Thanks, Kae. Was there something else you wanted from me dropping by, or...?" It isn't a way of ushering the other woman out the door. It's just her manner of seeing whether business has been attended to, whether there are other things the Verbena expects out of this meeting.
[Storm Child] "No, that's all, really. I just wanted to see how you were doing and maybe not make you walk so far this time," she says. It's friendly. It doesn't have a teacher/student aire to it at all. In fact, it calls back to some of the first conversations they'd had. Kaeley still does not consider herself Ashley's mentor; Ashley may not be certain if she is in a proper apprenticeship.
"Safe travels tomorrow," she says. The well wishes are genuine. "And I hope you enjoy your holidays." There's a bit of knowing here. This time of year is hard for anyone who has lost someone dear. Harder yet when the loss is new. She doesn't dwell on it, but she acknowledges it.
"Be well, then. I'm sure we'll talk again soon."
No, there's nothing from the Verbena. Kae will collect her coat, she'll make her goodbyes. Ashley, for all she's likely not expecting it, will get hugged. It's a holiday thing. Go with it. And then Kae will go back out into the world, climb back into the belly of the beast-sized truck outside, and rumble off toward whatever destination she's fixed upon visiting next.
