[Jarod Nightingale] It was getting cold out. Nearly winter now. The conclusion of Thanksgiving meant the beginning of the pre-Christmas season, and all around the city there were signs of it beginning to show. Trees were strung with tiny white lights, and department stores advertised holiday sales. Having grown up in one of the most singularly commercial places in the world, Jarod was used to these things, and so too was he used to ignoring them (well, maybe not the lights - those were pretty enough, especially when walking alone down a quiet street at night.)
There were probably a number of reasons why he'd come to Ashley's apartment tonight, and it was also probably a safe bet that at least a few of them were self-serving. He didn't call to ask her if it was alright that he stop by. This was partially due to the fact that he hadn't really decided to do so until only a few moments ago, when he'd realized that he was near her neighborhood. He had, though, been contemplating the prospect for some time now. Perhaps it had been the meeting with Kae that had changed his mind. Not Kae herself, mind - but rather the realization that Ashley was quite serious, and that she intended to go through with this one way or another.
There were a couple of students having a conversation by the door, and they let him inside without much thought, in the way of students everywhere who were used to communal living. Ashley would get a knock at her door then, and when she answered, she'd find herself confronted by six feet of attractive half-Asian, leaning languidly against the door frame. He smiled, flashing perfect-white teeth (Cheshire Cat) and said, "Mind if I come in?"
[Ashley McGowen] People assume, more often than not, that Ashley is the sort to despise the Christmas season or at least make cynical grumblings at it. It's true that she finds the throngs of crazed consumers offputting, and it's true that she hates not being able to walk anywhere without Christmas music playing (which, for Ashley, sounds more like listening to construction in the next room over, everywhere she goes.) But after things have quieted down at night and the speakers are shut off on the Mile and in the stores and restaurants, she too finds the lights pretty - and believe it or not, she does like to see people enjoying themselves, and there's just as much of that to see if one looks.
Tonight, though, she's huddled inside beneath a blanket, trying to read around the cat. Soft and adorable and friendly as he might be, Ashley has noticed a sometimes irritating proclivity in him for wanting to sleep on whatever she is reading. (He probably likes hearing the pages rustle, but it is beyond Ashley sometimes to fathom the mind of a cat.) Still, they manage. On her good-natured days they make a game out of keepaway and efforts at concentration.
Kage's presence helped to keep Thanksgiving from becoming the quiet, subdued affair it might otherwise have been, but now that she's come home some of it has had time to sink in and settle beneath her skin. She's chasing it away with poetry.
Zane is excellent to have around for many reasons, and one of those is that when she keeps her left side toward the door, he always alerts her even if she misses a sound outside. A sharp bark makes her raise her head and shuffle the cat and blanket away (the cat, shy creature that he is, promptly darts toward her study [sanctum] to hide himself for the evening) and rises, going over to open the door.
Jarod's made himself familiar with Ashley's habit of layering shirts during the colder months, which is what she has done today (a dark gray sweater over a dark red buttondown shirt over a T-shirt, it looks like) and in spite of that she still keeps her hands tucked away in her pockets when she comes to the door. (Maybe that isn't the only reason, though. Who knows what she keeps in her pockets and reaches for when she receives unexpected calls at night.) She's obviously a little surprised to see Jarod, because she blinks at him when she sees all six feet of him leaning in her doorway. "...Uh, hi," she says.
Beat. Then, "Sure. Everything okay?"
[Jarod Nightingale] Being in the position that she was in, it wasn't surprising that Ashley's first thought when being confronted with an unexpected magi at her door would be to check after the general state of affairs in the city (her city.) Why else would Jarod be here if not to inform her of some dire new circumstance that needed her immediate attention?
"Of course," he replied off-hand as he stepped inside and slid free of his coat (black wool - he was in professional garb tonight). "Sorry I didn't call. I was just driving by and thinking about our conversation last week."
She didn't need to take his coat from him. He knew where the closet was by now, and after he'd deposited his coat neatly on a hanger, he did away similarly with his suit-jacket (black again - he seemed to prefer dark colors) and began to loosen and remove the tie from around his neck. Underneath the jacket, he had on navy blue buttoned shirt with satin accents. When he'd removed the tie (which he hung with his jacket) he opened up the top button so that his neck could breath.
"If you're still interested in my help, I have some time tonight. That is, if you're not busy."
His smile was affable now, and there didn't seem to be any trace of his previous incalcitrance regarding this particular subject. Ashley might view this sudden change of heart as... odd. (In truth, it wasn't as sudden as it seemed.) From his demeanor, you'd think he was offering to have tea rather than help her learn a new magical art.
[Jarod Nightingale] [Edit: It is not making up words night, a la Sarah Palin. That should say recalcitrance.]
[Ashley McGowen] It's not that the idea of changing one's mind is incomprehensible to Ashley. Flexibility is important in one's dealings with other people: one should be able to adapt and grasp new opportunities as information arises. It's that she is utterly unable, for the life of her, to follow Jarod's train of thought when he does these sorts of things. She doesn't know why he refused in the first place (unless she was unacceptable as a student, somehow) and she certainly doesn't know what would have made him change his mind when he seemed unmoved last week.
"Oh my God," she says, and the phrase comes out as a sharp exhale (but the observant would note that it is not entirely exasperated. There's wry amusement there too,) "do you do this on purpose?"
'This,' perhaps, is referring to the unexplained, the decisions and decision-changing she's a little at a loss to follow, a thing that makes her uncertain of whether Jarod is just inscrutable (like Kage) or playing some kind of head game. One of these things is a thing Ashley can tolerate. The other is not (she doesn't like to lose, you see).
Another pause and then, "That's not a refusal." Her hands had withdrawn from her pockets while he set about unbuttoning his coat and suit-jacket, leaving the shape of a slender metal box (her lighter, warmed from her hand) outlined against her hip. She isn't a smoker. It's one of those quiet reminders that Ashley can be dangerous, in spite of her lack of traditional weapons and her reedy, almost fragile appearance. "What changed your mind?"
[Jarod Nightingale] Do you do this on purpose?
"Sometimes, yes."
His response came with a straight face and a completely matter of fact tone, and somehow this fit perfectly into the general theme of his behavior for the evening. It was followed, though, by an amused chuckle, because Ashley's exasperation was a little more endearing than she probably wanted it to be. There'd never been any doubt in Jarod's mind that the Hermetic could be dangerous. If she truly wanted to, Ashley could hurt him. And not only in obvious, physical ways. She had hurt him, once (but of course, he'd invited that.) Their positions were reversed here because she wanted to learn an Art that he was skilled in, but he wasn't about to forget that she was an Adept. His infuriating confidence stemmed not from faith in her basic goodness as a person, but rather faith in her willpower. (And in the fact that occasionally - as now - he had things that she wanted.) Besides that, they were... sort of friends, right? In as much as he probably ever had any.
In truth, Jarod was both inscrutable and manipulative. In most circumstances, his behavior could be attributed to an almost indistinguishable mix of the two (this one included.)
"Don't take it too personally. Everyone knows I'm a raging asshole. Occasionally I make up for it in other ways."
He didn't take a seat, but rather chose to remain standing for the moment. When Ashley did not immediately tell him to leave, he removed his shoes and left them by the door. "To be clear, I'm not offering to be your mentor. You've already got Kae, and frankly I suspect that if you wanted to, you could learn all of this on your own. But I am willing to help you, at least this once. As for what changed my mind..."
He considered this, then shrugged. "I just needed some time to think about it, and to see how serious you were."
[Ashley McGowen] This is...an entirely reasonable, seemingly honest response. Maybe Ashley hadn't entirely expected it, given how cagey Jarod has been in other circumstances. In any case, she doesn't seem offended; should someone from another Tradition - particularly one like the Verbena or the Dreamspeakers - have approached her about wanting to join the Order of Hermes, she would have wanted an assurance of the same. Their Traditions aren't on particularly good terms and she may well have just been an Adept going through an identity crisis (she's come so far - some want to start over.)
So to this very reasonable response, he gets a nod. "That's fair," she says. "Kae isn't my mentor, though, in any official capacity. She has a much more structured approach than I want, ironically." Though perhaps Ashley means cerebral and is just reluctant to say those words; as a Hermetic, there must still be some hang-ups about the new path she's embarking on, things she's uncomfortable with and that are seemingly at odds with her Hermetic teachings.
Though, as she's learning and beginning to understand, they aren't quite as at odds as most of her Traditionmates would initially assume. They're just interpreted that way by the sort of people the Order of Hermes attracts. (And she is more than aware that there will be political backlash, and accepting of the fact.)
His humor seems to have put her a touch at ease, at least, because after a second she brushes his elbow - her fingertips don't linger - and starts toward the couches and chairs. "You can come sit."
[Jarod Nightingale] He could be patient, when he wanted to be. (And likely, before the night was over, he would prove that.) But Jarod could also be singularly focused when he'd made up his mind to do something, so it wasn't too surprising that he didn't allow himself to become sidetracked now. Ashley mentioned that Kae's approach was more structured than she'd hoped for, and he seemed... a touch amused by this, but whatever he was thinking, he didn't say.
"Well, things will be a bit... different, with me. Perhaps you'll get some use out of it, then."
When she invited him to sit, he shook his head, then pointed in the direction of the bedroom. "A bed is better than a couch, for this." And whether Ashley led the way or not, that was precisely where he went. (It was a fair bet that his approach to this was not going to be particularly cerebral.)
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley probably should have suspected what Jarod teaching her anything would involve, but for some reason she did not, or is at least a little surprised. Maybe it's just because this isn't at all the way she has been taught magic in the past; while Ashley herself has made a habit of understanding her Will through the things she encounters in life as much as from study, the latter tends to be the manner in which this sort of learning is framed by the Order. Even when she wasn't given books she was still given exercises and challenges that were more or less academic.
So she'd probably expected something along the lines of an explanation or a debate or for him to show her something in the manner that Kae did. This is how Kae has been teaching her, and it has, to some extent, helped her ease into things.
Ashley pauses, if only for a second, at what Jarod says, and lingers where she is while he starts back toward her bedroom before she walks after him. He's been here before, though admittedly, neither of them were in a frame of mind that allowed them to look around much. The hardwood floor is covered by a blue carpet in here, which is matched by the bedding (albeit a darker blue than the coverlet that had been here last time.) There's a bookshelf in here too - in every room in her apartment, it seems like - and the books here are probably the ones that are of more sentimental value (favorites) if one judges by the creases that are on the covers of a few. There are series of framed black and white photographs arranged on the walls, artistic shots of buildings or the environment - probably not Ashley's, unless she has a ridiculous number of hidden talents, but all done by the same photographer.
Ashley crosses the threshold just after he does and nudges the door closed behind them with a foot.
[Jarod Nightingale] There was another reason for preferring the bedroom: it was warmer in here. The carpet helped to better insulate the room, and the smaller space meant that less heat was required to keep the temperature at a pleasant level. Being a student, Ashley probably didn't keep her thermostat much higher than was necessary in the winter months (which explained the layered shirts) and when a body was cold, it became numb. A lack of sensitivity would have been counterproductive to this experiment.
Ashley hesitated briefly when he directed them to the bedroom, but she soon joined him, and when she closed the door he walked over and sat down on the side of the bed. "Kae seems to have been talking to you about being more aware of the changes that occur in your body - what the cycles are, how you're affected by the weather. That's a good way to start. But you can't really know your body unless you use it. So this is, I guess... a hands-on approach. But my aim isn't to make you uncomfortable, so if you don't want to do this, or if at any point you want to stop... please let me know." And he meant that. There was honesty in his voice, and his expression lacked the usual enigmatic wickedness that he carried around with him.
If she did not voice any concern, then he'd gesture for her to join him on the bed. Sliding back, he pulled up his legs and folded them in a crossed position. "For now, just get comfortable and sit across from me."
When she'd done so, he continued.
"You're already used to having to rely more on your senses of touch and smell than most people. You may not realize that you do it, but the body makes up for what it doesn't have in one sense by heightening another. When someone approaches you from your blind side, you notice them not by sight, but by the displacement of the air beside you. Most people never notice these things, because they don't have to. The first thing I want you to do is just close your eyes and focus on yourself. Don't think, just feel. How are you breathing? Is your heart beating fast or slow? Are your muscles tensed or relaxed? How do your clothes feel against your skin? Think about all of these things. Your body - your pattern, is communicating. You just need to learn the language."
[Ashley McGowen] He tells her to let him know if she wants to stop, and Ashley nods once. It isn't likely that any of this would make her uncomfortable or that she wouldn't tell him if he crossed a boundary, but she rather appreciates that he asked. Likely it was, in part, meant to allow her to be more comfortable, and there is a sort of easiness with which she settles herself across from him on her bed.
"Kae suggested to be aware of myself and then be aware of how things felt around me, mostly in terms of my emotional responses," Ashley says. She's offering this forward without any hesitance; unlike Jarod, she has been taught to openly discuss her beliefs (they are not what is at the core of her, what is hidden.) Besides, she thinks it will be helpful for him to know where she is in the process in case he wants to nudge her in a specific direction or offer suggestions. "I used to see the physical world as illusory, but now I'm thinking of it more as an extension of my mind or a fragment of my Word or form. So I've been doing that, and mostly noticing how my thoughts are affecting what's happening with me, and..." Beat. "I'm starting to notice that watching how other people's bodies react can tell me what they're thinking when they aren't showing me."
She offers this up without a trace of irony, or as though she doesn't realize that this is an understanding that is intuitive for most people. It's just flat, a fact, an observation.
And then she stops speaking in order to listen. He's breaking it down a bit more for her than Kae did, offering specifics that don't have to do with her emotional responses and are, in a way, more removed from her mind. It will, perhaps, be helpful, or at least a new sort of approach that she might not have come to on her own.
Ashley is an artist, a poet, and so to some extent she is already used to noticing these things so that she can make her words more immersive, though perhaps she's never focused on them quite so much before. So she does as bidden once she's completely settled, crosslegged, and closes her eyes. It's a bit reminiscent of her father's early attempts to teach her to meditate, but the difference is that she doesn't have to try to clear her thoughts out and focus on nothing (almost impossible, for her.) She wouldn't have thought to pay attention to her breathing or her heartbeat or the tension along the lines of her arms and hands and shoulders before, but now she does, takes in the fact that she's not particularly relaxed - she never is - but not a rubber band stretched to its limit, either.
She doesn't tell Jarod that she's focusing; he can tell by the subtle shift in her breathing, in how her muscles move (almost imperceptibly) and uncoil.
[Jarod Nightingale] [Life 1 (because we're paying close attention)]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 5, 10 (Success x 3 at target 3)
[Ashley McGowen] One can tell this way how a person has lived their life, both present and past tense. He can tell she's been shot several times, that her ribs have been broken and mended a touch imperfectly, that she's been burned and scratched and stabbed: marks that are not surprising to find on any Adept, or indeed anyone who has been Awakened for very long at all. The mark of her Awakening is the most glaring one; there is a bit of nonliving matter that was used to hold her skull together years and years ago that her scalp was pulled over and covered, and beneath it crushed and nonfunctioning nerves. Not much, not so much that it's amazing she's alive at all (not with modern medicine) but that she's coherent and cognizant of the world around her to the extent that she is - that is Paradoxical.
If one wanted to discern whether Ashley was a Life mage, all they would need to do would be to take a look at her pattern to tell, in other words. Unlike Jarod and Kae, the imperfections haven't been smoothed out and polished away, and she doesn't have the sort of warmth and ease and comfort with her body that most Life magi eventually achieve. He can tell that she usually exists in a state of hyperalertness, that right now she is attentive and very, very awake in spite of being a little tired. Her heart beat is a little quick - though she is noticing it too, and as her breathing eases it's beginning to taper off.
to Jarod Nightingale
[Jarod Nightingale] [Dex+Stealth - How quietly can I do this?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Jarod Nightingale] Jarod did not think of his body - or the physical world - as an extension of his mind. That was not a Verbena belief, and neither was it one of his own. His mind and his body were both himself. He didn't separate them. He was Awake, and thus could influence the world around him in ways that a normal person could not, but the world itself had existed long before he'd been born, and would continue to exist long after he'd died. It was not a dream, or an illusion. The earth lived and breathed and evolved - billions upon billions of smaller patterns intertwined to create a whole.
But he wasn't here to try and force Ashley to change her paradigm. That kind of change would happen on its own, if it did at all. So when she said this, he smirked just a little, but didn't say anything. They could argue about it later, if she wanted, but right now a philosophical debate would most likely serve as a distraction from what he was trying to teach her.
After she closed her eyes, they both stopped talking. Ashley focused on herself, as he'd asked of her. And Jarod, meanwhile... focused on her. It was almost second-nature, for him, to do this in intimate situations (and what they were doing here was a kind of intimacy, for all that it had an educational purpose), and he wanted to feel what Ashley was feeling - to be aware of her body as much as she was. It helped. It made it easier for him to discern subtle details.
Her wounds had not been healed the way that his had, over the years. He could sense the imperfections - the scar tissue and damaged nerves. Everyone had these, to some extent, but few had them to the degree that your average Adept might, after years of Awakened life. Even his own body, for all its seeming perfection, was not completely free of flaws. There were old wounds - wounds that he'd received before he had the ability to heal himself. Emily had found them once, when he'd taught this same Art to her.
In the silence, his hands moved to the buttons on his shirt and began to undo them one by one. Carefully, he pulled his arms out of the sleeves, then leaned over to drape the shirt over a nearby bedpost. He barely made a sound as he did this, but if Ashley listened closely, she might notice the faintest brush of fabric on skin. (Only if she directed her attention outward, though, and this was not what he'd asked her to do - yet.) Unavoidable though was the slight movement of the mattress beneath them as his center of gravity shifted.
"Keep your eyes closed," he said quietly, as he moved forward on the bed, until his knees touched hers and he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. After a few moments, he whispered, "What changed, just now?"
Because it was impossible not to react to another body entering one's space - pleasant or otherwise.
[Ashley McGowen] [Alertness? +2 for one ear, +1, distracted.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 6 (Failure at target 9)
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley feels the mattress shift because she is focused inward just now: she's aware of how her core sways, just slightly, to stay balanced, and she's aware of the movement beneath her. She doesn't hear the whisper of the fabric either as it slides off of him or as he drops it over her bedpost; she's doing as instructed, staying focused, and with only the one ear to hear out of one would suspect that her perception of such things is dulled anyway.
Her muscles jump and then still again when his knees touch hers, probably because she was focusing and hadn't expected the contact; Ashley doesn't always do well with it, when it's sudden. It startles her, but never for very long, and whatever unease momentarily took hold of her is just as quickly shaken off.
It's hard not to open her eyes right now, or at the very least try to get a sense of what he is doing, what's happening, external scents and sounds. She wasn't instructed to do that though, and when it comes to lessons, at least, she will temporarily yield to other people (because it suits her purposes to do so.) It's a different kind of discipline, but one she takes to nonetheless. She's aware that her pulse quickens because she's so curious, so aware at the moment, and watchful besides, and she tries to monitor this too.
There's heat against her cheek and her physical response is immediate, as noticeable to him right now as it is to her. "My, um. My heart and my breathing sped up," she tells him, and if she's hesitant it's because this is indeed intimate and speech happens to bring that fact to the forefront.
[Jarod Nightingale] "What else?" he asked, because there were other things, and he was the kind of person who paid attention to small details. He'd taken off his shirt for a reason. Ashley couldn't see or touch him, but with the proximity she'd feel his body heat, which in turn warmed hers. She could also smell his skin, and beneath the more obvious scents of whatever various soaps and bath products he used, there was a chemical makeup that was uniquely his own - genetic material advertised through pheromones. This could potentially instill any number of reactions, though given their history, it probably wasn't an unpleasant one.
He'd noticed the way that she startled when their knees met, so this time he gave a warning before he continued. "I'm going to touch you. Keep focusing on your reactions."
And then she'd feel, very gently, fingertips tracing down the outer edge of her good ear, and the soft brush of hair as it fell back into place. A moment later there was warmth on her neck, and the touch of lips. It was very soft, that kiss, and also very slow and deliberate, so that she'd feel as much of it as possible. He gave her time to react, then reached down to the hem of her sweater and pulled it up and over her head. The buttons on her second layer were worked open with slow deliberation before he removed this shirt as well, but he left her t-shirt for a moment. "Hold out your arm."
Assuming that she did so, he'd move his own hand to hover above it, so close to the skin of her forearm that she'd feel the shift in the air and the warmth of it, and if the hairs along her arm raised even slightly, they'd connect with his skin. He moved that hand slowly up and down the length of her arm, all but touching (but not quite.) Then he turned her palm up and made contact at the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist, where blood pulsed just beneath the surface, and traced a line from there to the inside of her elbow.
He didn't ask her, anymore, to tell him how she felt. She would continue to vocalize it, or not, as she chose.
[Ashley McGowen] Jarod's heard Ashley be quite articulate when he sat down on a bench next to her and asked her to read the fragments that she would shape together into a poem later. There are probably all kinds of things she could find to verbalize what she's noticing right now if she wanted to, or if her attention weren't split in so many ways, or if she weren't absorbed in just feeling, right now.
He hadn't been wrong when he'd commented that she was aware of her body (moreso than most Hermetics), but what's different now is that she's trying to be aware on a conscious level rather than just an instinctive one. Usually when she's like this she has a habit of yielding to Hunger, getting lost in the moments that tick by until it's receded again, and there's a thinking element to this that isn't usually present. Ashley's always had some difficulty in the Order of Hermes in that much of her energy has been spent reining in her drives and her Avatar, drawing the distinction between mind and body, an ownership where this is a union of thought and purpose.
She's not troubled by this, and doing it feels natural now that she's been asked to do it, and there's a connection creeping in at the edge of her senses where there wasn't one before. He can feel her breath still and catch when his mouth touches her skin (and so can she), they're both aware that the muscles in her throat move when she swallows hard, that her neck is sensitive and it's probably exactly the kind of response he'd hoped for. She tips her chin to the side to allow him access, but that doesn't last for long before she's shrugging out of the sweater and the buttondown alike, and the fact that the air is a lot colder now than it was when it was trapped between layers of fabric and her skin. The hair along her arm is already raised even before she holds it out for him. He's warm, which makes it even harder than it would usually be to restrain herself; he hasn't told her to focus on him yet. It's an odd pairing of tension and relaxation in her muscles as she holds them back and forces them to slacken at the same time.
She doesn't tell him anything, but she doesn't need to in order to be aware; she's too focused on what her blood is telling her.
[Jarod Nightingale] Ashley's Hunger might have made this difficult, were it not for the strength of her Will. Jarod could be agonizingly patient, when it suited him, and if there was anything that he was skilled at, it was taking the time to explore and relish in small, delicate details of sensuality. This was in part because he himself was so physically sensitive. He was hyper-attuned to his body. Moreso, even, than many Verbena. He was also hyper-attuned to other people's bodies. Before even he'd fully awakened, there had been moments when he'd experienced uncanny insights into the physical states of other people. That came with this kind of awareness.
If she let him, he might very easily do this all night - this slow, teasing, deliberate kind of touching. But there was a purpose to it here. Not to drown her in sensation but to bring out the details slowly, so that she could become aware of exactly how her body responded to such stimuli.
But there were still clothes in the way, and these were progressively discarded. Her t-shirt came next, and when he leaned forward to reach around and unclasp her bra, he allowed their torsos to just barely connect for a moment. His chest was warm, and his heart was beating a very relaxed and steady rhythm. Then he pulled back as he slid the straps from her shoulders. A moment later, his hand pressed flat against her sternum and pushed gently to indicate that she lie back. When she did, he popped open the button on her jeans, pushed her hips up a little, and hooked his fingers in so that he could pull the remainder of her clothes away in one slow, easy swoop.
When he returned to hover over her, his lips touched down on the space between her breasts. The skin there tasted a little salty. When he moved his head, his mouth stopped to hover just above one of her nipples, lips parted so that warm breath brushed against it and she'd be able to feel the nearness of him even without looking. He didn't touch it. Instead he slid further down and did the same thing to the soft skin just beneath her navel, breathing teasing gusts of warmth against her.
He paused there for awhile, just breathing, but eventually his lips did connect with her skin, as did his teeth, as he bit gently.
[Ashley McGowen] While Jarod was correct in that she probably would have reached this understanding on her own eventually, this is certainly speeding up the process, and moreover, allowing her to experience things in a manner she probably wouldn't have gone looking for on her own. She's shy, and even if she weren't, there's still a loss somewhat fresh in her mind that can't help but almost-surface now and an inherent vulnerability in a slow approach like this. There's a purpose to this: she probably wouldn't have allowed it otherwise, or at least wouldn't be letting her discomfort slide away to the back of her mind.
She's not the sort to pull back into herself when she feels like this. When he leans in and reaches around her, she curves an arm around him and presses a kiss to his shoulder for the brief moment that he's there, both to take some sort of action and because she wants to extend that awareness to him, she can feel his heartbeat, thinks that if she could just...
He's not there long enough though, and she doesn't hold him there. When he directs her to lie back she does, settling, absorbing the difference in weight and balance and the feel of the top of the comforter against her skin, the movements her muscles make and where they're tensed when she's done moving. She has to actively unknot them again, quell the erratic and slightly too-rapid patter of her heart (one wouldn't pick up on her feelings otherwise - she's good at hiding these things) and this too is helpful in its way, even if it keeps the experience from being wholly pleasant.
She doesn't touch him again while he hovers over her - just notices where he is, arcs up closer to him while the warm air washes over her skin. When his lips touch her again her hand drifts up from where it was on the bed and slides into his hair, and she focuses on the way it feels when she runs her fingers through it and over his scalp, as deliberate and slow as he has been. It's easier for her than remaining completely passive and there's an instinctiveness to it, a desire to extend her Will and focus outward.
[Jarod Nightingale] There was a lot going on within Ashley's body right now. He could feel her tension and discomfort even as he also felt the more instinctual, physical responses to how he was touching her. It gave him pause for a moment as he looked up at her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Because he'd meant it when he'd told her that if she was uncomfortable, they could stop. There were other ways to learn this. Methods that did not require such intimacy or vulnerability.
It was not unlike something he'd said to Emily, not that long ago, and for a moment his view of the Hermetic softened a little. It was hard not to see her as human in a moment like this. Not because she was any less strong, but because the boundaries that they usually built up between them to keep other people out were just a little bit lower. And because he knew what it was like to lose someone that you loved when it had cost so much to love them in the first place.
Her fingers felt nice in his hair, and he leaned into the touch a little, but did not attempt to continue until he'd had her reassurance. (Or not, as the case may be - in which case he'd stop.)
[Ashley McGowen] It's usually something she deliberately tries to avoid, seeming human. Some people have gotten to see her that way regardless, though it's rare and they've been few in number, but her Tradition is not one that looks kindly on those displays. They believe in the divinity of the human soul like the Chorus does - but achieve it by bending the world and themselves to suit their whims.
In the past, she's gotten angry at friends who called her on it, and maybe for a split second she considers an irritable reply (Would I be here otherwise?): her heart skips a second (fear), hammers (anger) and then quiets once more. Self-control is in some ways as natural to her as noticing the physical states of others is to him (and in some ways, maybe that's part of why Ashley wants to learn it this way - because it's difficult, in more ways than one.)
But her tone isn't irritable and her hand doesn't tense, and its movement ceases only briefly, long enough for her to glance up at him and meet his eyes. "Yeah," she says, "I'm sure."
[Jarod Nightingale] They had rather a lot in common sometimes, these two. In hindsight, had someone asked him if he was sure about something that he felt a little uncomfortable about, but nonetheless wanted to do, he'd have probably had the urge to snap at them as well. Neither of them really liked to seem human, and neither of them were terribly comfortable with their own weaknesses.
His eyes looked a little darker than usual, even in the light of the bedroom. She'd seen that before, the last two times they'd slept together. His pupils dilated farther than average, almost to the point of eclipsing blue with black. It probably made him a little light-sensitive.
When she told him to continue, his eyes fell shut for a moment, and he turned his head so that his lashes brushed against her stomach. He kissed her again, a little lower this time, and slid his hands up along the curve of her small hips. She was already beginning to become more aware of him, even before he'd planned on directing her to do so, so she might notice the way his nostrils flared to pull in a deeper breath just before his mouth found its intended destination at the heat source between her legs. And he was just as teasingly delicate about this as he had been in every other touch - at least, at first. After awhile, his mouth found a focus, and stayed there. (And he was good at this. Life magic and practice had their advantages.)
But he stopped when he felt things beginning to build (which may not have been the world's most popular decision.) When he sat up, he brushed a thumb across his lower lip and then sucked on it, briefly. There was a light flush across his chest. He was... not unaffected by what they were doing.
"You've been focusing on yourself. Expand that, now, and focus on me as well. See how aware you can be of my pattern, and what you notice."
He sat back on his heels, still partially dressed, and waited, perhaps, to allow her to do whatever it was she might wish to do.
[Ashley McGowen] Prior to today, sex and magic were two things that did not coincide - or at least, not in this way. She and Bran joined minds on plenty of occasions, and he too had been a mage with a rather thorough knowledge of Life, but magic in that case had been a tool rather than something it helped to focus; actually, she's sneered at Cultists on multiple occasions for it. A curiosity about and desire to join the Verbena hasn't been only a matter of learning Life, for her: she was aware when she decided to undertake it that it would only increase the growing rift between herself and the Hermetic party line.
Given how firmly she'd kept to it at this time last year, she tries not to think about it too hard, and fortunately, she doesn't really get a chance to either.
The hand still stirring his hair doesn't lift away, nor does she nudge or direct him, which she might otherwise have been tempted to do. She breathes his name, quiet, when he finds his focus, and right now hasn't really lost sight of her reactions; it would be difficult not to notice how her body was responding under normal circumstances, and right now she's reached a sort of hyperawareness, a sense of her own pattern, her own blood.
He pulls away and it tugs her attention up and toward him even before he speaks, and she's watching him now; the breaths that had been shallow and rapid earlier have deepened, and she exhales slowly before she pushes herself up and moves over to him.
He's been holding back and so does she, leaning up and kissing him, lingering a moment before her lips move down to his jaw, to his neck. It's slow, gentle, deliberate - in part because she wants to see whether his response differs (Hermetic, remember), in part because the slowness of it helps her shift her attention to him, and in part because she just feels like it. She runs a thumb along the line of his jaw on the other side, lightly brushing, as though to map the contours of his face on her blind side, eyes closed or not; her mouth finds the place on his neck just over his pulse and remains there a moment, feeling how it shifts, whether it's quickening.
It's not unlike seeking out other minds, now that she knows what to look for, now that she's been paying closer attention to this undeniable connection between instinct and blood, now that it doesn't feel as though two parts of herself are warring for dominance, one yielding to allow the other forth. It will take practice to make it lasting, that feeling of being together, unified in hunger, but for right now: solidarity.
[Jarod Nightingale] His level of mastery over his own body could potentially be frustrating for others, when they perhaps wanted him to be less controlled. Emily had always seemed to prefer it when he was a little less perfect; a little more human. That was part of sex - being human. It was part of what people found sexy in others. Luckily, he knew that, and so he let his instincts largely play out as they normally would, with only small and occasional amounts of magical interference. Once he'd had to jump rather quickly from making out in an elevator to checking in on sleeping children, and there... may have been some manipulation involved.
In any case, it wasn't all magical. Most of his control was just plain old-fashioned willpower. This was what he was employing now (because Ashley wasn't the only one of them who had to hold back more primal drives.) For a moment, when she'd whispered his name, he had almost forgotten that they were doing this with a purpose in mind. (Oral sex... tended to have that effect on him.)
She kissed him (he tasted like her), and he held himself still, but his returning capture of her lips was no less enthusiastic for it. Just like her, his neck was sensitive, and when she moved there he tilted his head to give her better access and made a low, humming sound in his throat. His pulse wasn't quite as erratic as hers had been (he wasn't dealing with such a difficult mix of emotions and impulses), but it was moving at a faster pace, and the heat on his skin seemed to be stronger than it had been (as indicated by the flush of color - by blood rising to the surface.)
Her thumb would feel a faint bit of roughness along the edge of his jaw - a faint whisper of what would appear as stubble the following morning. When she kissed his neck again, just over the hollow of his throat, she'd be able to feel the delicate skin pulsing visibly with his heart-beat. It jumped rhythmically beneath her lips, and sped up a little. (This is where a predator would bite, to find the blood beneath.)
It was difficult not to touch her, but for the moment he refrained, as she had done.
[Ashley McGowen] [Let's not botch, 'kay? -1 for focus, +1 for new rote.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4)
[Ashley McGowen] It's where a predator would bite, but she doesn't. She stays just close enough for him to feel her body heat - which is an exercise in willpower and in balance, given that she isn't as practiced with her movements as he is with his - and pulls back a fraction of an inch, breathing against the crook of his neck and shoulder.
The slow teasing he could do all night isn't something she usually does; she's typically more aggressive, more urgent. For all that, though, she can affect patience when she wants to, if there's something to make it worth it. She skims her fingertips from his jaw down his neck, trailing briefly over his collarbone, down, noticing the shift in heat and the flush of his skin. Her fingers hook in the waistband of his pants and follow it over to the clasp and zipper, and she moves closer then, settling her good ear over his chest so she can hear his heartbeat, pay attention, while she works the clasp free and slides the rest of his clothing down over his hips.
She's been aware, this entire time, of herself and now of him, paying attention and actively focusing and thinking about what she's doing where she would usually simply yield to instinct. Right now they're one and the same, and with these first fumbling steps into an Art, it isn't that different to bridge between will and Will, between the mundane and the supernatural. She's listening to the rapid drumming in his ribs and simultaneously aware of her own, aware of the metal links that rest against her collarbone, a funnel, and she knows how to push her Will forward because she's done it many times before, it's just a different way of Looking. And then that way she has of sizing up the rest of the world just falls together.
He can tell when it does. Her hands briefly still, and there's a sharp intake of breath, a sudden knowledge of him and his blood and instinct and Will and the stories it's written over him (evidence of his Word underlying, even if he doesn't know it.) Other things, too, awareness of the animals in the next room, the bamboo plant in the corner, smaller things: the world is thriving even in winter, in the slight chill of the room.
The pause doesn't last long. After a moment she lifts her head, brushing her lips against his neck again as she tugs his clothes the rest of the way free.
[Jarod Nightingale] [Awareness - Well that was fast...]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Jarod Nightingale] It was never any less a memorable and fascinating experience to be a part of the first time that someone else Awakens to a new Art. He'd done this before, with Emily, and though the details of that event had been markedly different, there was still a brief sense of the same nostalgic reverence that he'd felt with her, and the same moment of... something shared.
Comparisons could be made to other firsts, in the best possible sense. (Though Ashley was hardly virginal.)
He wasn't flawless. And now Ashley had proof of that. Most of the injuries he'd taken in his childhood had not been severe enough to leave permanent marks, even without the ability to heal them supernaturally. There were no gunshots or knife wounds... no serious brain damage. But there had been a few broken bones - namely his ribs. Old fractures showed faintly on three of them in multiple places. So too with his skull. The injury there was nothing like Ashley's own, but it had been cracked open once.
Comparatively speaking, this was nothing. But they were injuries that held personal and unpleasant memories attached to them, so it always felt more than a little revealing to let someone else feel them. This felt more naked than his outer body ever did, even now while being stripped of clothing.
He was in perfect health aside from that, and since her first connection with another human life pattern was happening while that pattern was in a state of arousal, it would likely be a bit overwhelming at first - this sensation of someone else's hunger washing over her. (But then, Ashley was used to hunger.) He could have sat perfectly still and not given even the slightest outward indication of how he was feeling, and it wouldn't have changed a thing about how she experienced him now.
And of course, he did give outward indication of it, because it was fairly impossible to hide. His heartbeat sounded roughly against her ear, and she'd feel the vibrations of it. When her hands strayed to the waistline of his pants, his abdominal muscles tensed in unconscious anticipation. (Blood had pooled in that direction. It was interesting, what happened to the movement of blood through a body when it was excited, in both men and women. How it was stirred up. How certain places swelled - lips, breasts... [we'll leave off there.])
His breath hitched. Then he smiled. "You... are a very fast learner."
And that was when Ashley set about finishing the task of removing his clothes, so he shifted to accommodate her, lying back on the bed and unfolding his legs. They could have stopped here. Technically, the purpose of the encounter had been reached. But Ashley didn't seem terribly interested in that idea, and she certainly wasn't going to hear any complaints. But he proved difficult to wrangle into submission, because he was rather intent upon finishing what he'd started.
And if she let him, that was exactly what he'd do. Without restraint this time.
And then he'd submit to whatever further plans she might have for the evening, willingly and enthusiastically.
[Ashley McGowen] It is overwhelming, and if he were looking at her mind right now as much as her body, he would be able to tell (but no, that requires an entirely different level of vulnerability.) She wants to pay attention to all of it, to take note of his injuries, how his blood moves, how it differs from hers, the shifts when she touches him a certain way. But there will be plenty of time for a more intent study later, and right now her thoughts and her instincts happen to be tending along the same direction anyway.
Truthfully, she's been working toward this on her own for...a long time. She's had an interest in Life and in touching it since early this summer, but wanted to learn it in a certain way, come to a certain understanding. It was something she needed to do, and she's been trying to frame her thoughts this way for some time.
She doesn't explain that to him though. There's just the brief tremor of a silent laugh before she says, "Yeah, I've heard that." The thought of stopping, whether the learning portion of the evening is finished or not, doesn't seem to have occurred to her; there isn't even a pause after he speaks.
Once his clothes are free her lips meet his skin again, starting at his collarbone and working their way downward, brushing a hand over his ribs (over the imperfectly mended ones, he might notice.) She fights him - but gently, with a kind of insistence (no repeats of last time) - and in the end they probably have to settle on a sort of compromise. She's perfectly content to while away the evening, in no hurry to send him off (and if he hadn't had a daughter at home, she'd probably have asked him to stay.)
And any lingering intellectual detachment from what started as a study simply subsides as she lets herself be struck by the new awareness, the connection, blends into joy: they're both Alive, after all.
