[Jarod] There was a reason why none of the other Awakened ever saw Jarod's condo (actually, there were a couple of reasons,) and it primarily had to do with trust. The average person wasn't likely to bring monsters or technocrats to his door, but mages... might. This was why, until tonight, Emily was the only one of them that he'd ever felt reasonably safe allowing into his home. Ashley might have wondered about it, but if so she'd never asked. Perhaps she hadn't needed to. Jarod had kept his daughter a secret for months (and still did, from most people.) Clearly he was the sort of person who could be fiercely protective of his privacy, and of the things that were his.
For whatever reason, he had evidently decided that Ashley was now someone that he could include in this extremely select group of people (though her position as chantry-head probably meant that he felt a little nervous about it, regardless.) Against all logic and expectation, the two of them were becoming friends. Had become friends. Jarod was acquainted with a lot of people, and a good handful of them referred to him as a friend, but he tended to reserve the term for more meaningful relationships. Tonight, he was the one who'd called her. He didn't say that he'd been worried, but the first thing he asked her was whether or not the attack on the Node had been successful. If she was... okay. (If Emily was okay.)
The relief in his voice was subtle, but it was there. And then he asked her if she wanted to take a break from being the Queen of Chicago to come and have tea with him. She probably thought at first that he was going to suggest some hip little tea room, but instead he gave her his address in Wicker Park. It was a new building - a little nicer than the last one, though the neighborhood itself was less pricey, lacking Lake View's popular shoreline. Wicker Park was a bit more artsy than Lake View. A little less upscale (a little more dingy and run-down in places) but also much more culturally thriving. There were also a couple of very good schools within walking distance.
When Ashley arrived at the high-rise, she'd see that it was newly built, that it was taller than all of the other buildings around it (at 27 floors,) and that the outside-facing walls of the more expensive units were made entirely of glass. There was a lot of security, but that was to be expected. Jarod had informed the desk clerk in the lobby that he should let Ashley upstairs when she got there, so as soon as she gave her name, he'd smile and walk her to the elevator, using his key to allow her access to the top floor.
Despite the distance, it wasn't a long wait (high-speed elevators.) When the doors opened, she'd find herself at the end of a long hallway. The walls were painted pristine white, and the floors were pale, polished wood. On the left and all the way at the end was the door to Jarod's penthouse.
[Ashley] Ashley is the opposite of Jarod about her home, in some ways. She is much more free with who she allows into it, and when she meets new people she often invites them there. She does it because, on some level, if they are going to attack her or try to harm her it's better if they do it when she has her sanctum nearby, when they are in territory that is familiar to her. It's a place where she sets the terms, where she can be more at ease and the other person more on guard, and she takes advantage of that. It's confident behavior; when it comes to her magical abilities, at least, confidence is not a thing she lacks (she could probably do with less.)
Still, that doesn't mean she doesn't recognize that he operates a little differently, when it comes to his apartment. She doesn't quite understand why, because she thinks of Jarod as a capable person, but she has never bothered to dwell on it. She notes the relief in his tone. There's a slightly pleased note in hers that can't quite be hidden when she agrees to come visit.
Ashley was badly wounded the other night. The Technocrats spiked the node, and it came close to unraveling her very Pattern. Emily's, too. But she's okay right now, healthy and whole and without a sign that those injuries ever occurred, thanks to a draught the Singer made. It doesn't trouble her to walk to Jarod's.
As before, Ashley is not entirely familiar with the wealth the place exudes. It makes her a touch uncomfortable, but not so much that she betrays it as such; she doesn't have Thomas' utter disdain for it. Then again, while her background was less than privileged her home was at least somewhat more stable than the Hollower's and her environment a bit safer. Still, there's a split second's hesitation in speaking to the desk clerk and she's a little unsure of her surroundings as she makes her way to the end of the hall.
She's unbuttoning her coat when he arrives at the door. She's wearing a dark purple sweater over a black undershirt today, visible beneath her coat. Darker colors than she usually wears, but she wears them well enough. When he's been summoned by the bell she turns her gaze up and waits.
[Jarod] She was dressed in colors closer to his own wardrobe, tonight. And in fact, when Jarod opened the door, she'd see that his own shirt (a button-down with silk accents) was... also dark purple, though his had just a hint of brown in it. He also had on black dress-pants, but his feet were bare (despite it being winter) which lent a casual air to his appearance. He smirked when he noticed Ashley's sweater. "Oh look, we match." Then he stood aside and gestured for her to enter, shutting and locking the door behind her. The floors in here were of the same highly polished hardwood that had been used in the hallway, and the walls the same zen-like shade of white. (The carpeting in the bedrooms was also white, which had horrified Emily when she'd contemplated the numerous ways in which a child might destroy it.) There was a closet just inside the door, to the right, and this Jarod pulled open as he offered to take Ashley's coat. There was also a mat in the corner with a couple of sets of shoes on it (one of them child-sized,) and knowing Jarod, it was a fair bet that he preferred people not keep their shoes on inside, but he didn't explicitly ask her to do so.
If Ashley did remove her shoes, she'd notice that, as with his old apartment, the floors here were warm from radiant heat. That explained why he was able to go barefoot. (In fact, Jarod was nearly always barefoot when at home. An interesting little quirk that one might attribute to his being Verbena. He liked to feel the ground underneath him.) When Ashley's things had been put away, he led the way down the short hall, and it opened up into a huge, open space that encompassed the living room ahead and the kitchen to the right. This place was... larger than his last one (and that one had hardly been small,) but the design aesthetic was similarly elegant and minimalist. Nonetheless, it had a slightly more... permanent feel. Less of a bachelor pad and more of a home (if perhaps the kind of home that only seemed to exist in magazines.) The place was spotlessly clean, and surfaces shone in the warm ambient light. It was late (and dark out) so he had the coverings down over the windows (walls.)
There was a fireplace in the living room. Behind the glass doors, flames glowed and occasionally a muted pop sounded from one of the logs. It instantly gave the modern room a significantly more welcome feel.
There was also the grand piano at the far end of the room, tucked into an alcove.
Jarod gestured to the space before wandering into the kitchen to heat up some water. "Feel free to look around, if you like. Bedrooms and bathrooms are down the hall, but Ilana's supposed to be sleeping so avoid the second door on the right. What kind of tea are you in the mood for?"
[Ashley] Ashley does indeed take off her boots inside the door. Her floors at her home are hardwood, and she also prefers that people take their shoes off lest they drag water and mud and dirt about. She grins, once, when he comments that they match, as she tugs the laces free and leaves both boots lined up next to each other along with the rest. They aren't much bigger than Ilana's.
Ashley notices this, and there's a moment where she looks vaguely disconcerted.
The floors are warm against her feet, the way they were when she visited his other home. It's a bit of an unusual sensation for her; she can't afford to keep her apartment this well heated. Generally the floors remain a little chill at this time of year in particular. She wiggles her toes for a second when she notices, glances at the floor, and then takes a look around, noting the differences between this and what she remembers of his old apartment. Noting the exits, the doors and windows.
A log pops. "That's not a gas fire," she comments, pleased. She chooses to appreciate odd things at times, perhaps, but then again, so does he. So do most magi.
"A rooibos, if you have one," she says, knowing that he probably does. And she does indeed take a little while to look around. To wander the main room, to occasionally graze her fingertips over something that catches her attention. There's a lingering look at the piano once (he plays), but she doesn't hover. After a little while she joins him in the kitchen.
[Jarod] Ashley noticed the fireplace, and her comment made him smile a bit. "Only one that isn't in the whole building, actually. I hate gas fireplaces, so I had them replace mine with a real one when I moved in, along with a few other renovations."
She asked for red tea, and though he didn't often drink it himself, he did in fact have a handful of varieties. This was due in part to the fact that Ilana had taken a liking to it and now drank rooibos nearly every day. When Ashley requested this, he nodded and opened up the cabinet that contained all of his tea jars. They were organized neatly, and stacked on shelves that seemed to have been specially built so that everything was within reach and easy to find. Of course, the cabinet itself was positioned high enough that Ashley would have had trouble reaching it. Ilana probably did too, which explained why there was a small step-stool tucked away underneath the granite counter in the corner.
Jarod grabbed two porcelain jars out of the cabinet and set them on the counter next to the stove. Then he leaned against the island so that he could watch Ashley while the water heated. There was a bowl of fruit behind him, full of all kinds of exotic, expensive things like mangoes and tiny pineapples as well as some more common fare like clementines and apples. Jarod's diet was primarily produce and lean protein. He ate a lot of fruit.
"Sorry I didn't have you over during the day. The place is a lot brighter with the light coming in." (One would imagine so, with glass walls.) After a pause, he added, "I'm... glad you're okay. Do you mind if I ask what happened?" (By this he meant the attack on the Asylum.)
[Ashley] Ashley can't fathom asking for renovations of this sort. In fact, if he hadn't said so she wouldn't have imagined it was possible to ask a landlord to install a real fireplace; it's simply too cost prohibitive. Jarod gets a glance of vague surprise when he mentions having done this, and then she continues moving about.
When Ashley joins him again in the kitchen she walks over to the kitchen island, standing next to him and leaning a hip into it. There's a glance spared toward the fruit, and it lingers on the tiny pineapples (momentarily charmed, perhaps, since as anyone knows the smaller version of a thing is always cute). "I can come back during the day," she says, with a look out toward the main room. "I'm guessing it's reflective glass?" She might find it a little disconcerting, otherwise, and she imagines that so would he.
Jarod mentions the Asylum then, and Ashley glances up at him and lets out a slow exhale. Quiet, a touch strained. "Israel, Emily and I conducted a ritual to pull Quintessence from the node and distribute it elsewhere in order to destabilize it and cause it to collapse," she says. "Israel could've done it on her own, but there was less risk with us helping." Ashley still looks...rather unhappy that this had to be done.
"So we scried into the place so we could see what was going on and keep an eye on the team we'd sent in to take down the wall and the outer reach of the ban. The node was...it looked like a huge Tree with sight. But they were planning to blow it up anyway. It was so unstable it was causing problems for them, killing them and attracting things through the Gauntlet." Hesitation. "They spiked it, so it kind of...burned going through us at one point, and it was probably kind of lucky Israel asked us to help." It would have killed the Orphan otherwise. Really, if Emily hadn't joined Israel and Ashley and diverted some of the energies, it probably would have killed both of them. She doesn't tell him that.
"There was a Technocrat who saw the way the node looked, and it woke him up. But like one of us. And he decided to help destroy it because of what it had been doing, there was a lot of chaos...one of the Technocrats tried to stop him and Emily and I put a shield over him so he could get through. He disappeared through a Shallowing they'd left in the Umbra, a gate." She bites the inside of her cheek. "I almost went to go get him out, honestly, because it would've been...well, it was...a waste," delivered without any particular emotion, "but Israel told me it would've been a bad idea. I think I managed to touch his thoughts, though. Let him know we could help him if he can get back out. But I don't know whether he's still alive."
[Jarod] [Just making sure - Life scan]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 3, 7 (Success x 3 at target 3)
[Jarod] Ashley asked if the glass was reflective, and Jarod laughed a little, ruefully. "Actually no, it's not. Better to see through, but yes... also less private. Doesn't really matter though. We're too high up for anyone but a helicopter to see in." (And then of course there were the shades.) He hadn't mentioned the fact that he owned this place, which probably accounted for some of Ashley's surprise at the ease with which he'd customized it. This was actually part of the reason why his previous place hadn't been quite this nice - it had been on a lease. This place though... it was his. Bought and paid for completely. If he'd wanted to, he could have started knocking down walls, so long as nothing he did damaged the structural integrity of the building.
He didn't go into any of that, though, because he'd asked her to tell him about the mission, and she did. He was quiet while she related the story, watching her with an attentive gaze. They'd been forced to destroy a Node. They'd been hurt. Someone else - a seeming innocent - had been lost to the umbra. This was not a happy tale, and one would imagine that none of them would look back on it and feel as if something had been won. They'd done what they'd had to do to keep other people safe. That was all the achievement to be had. That... and the fact that they were all alive. In their world, that was an accomplishment in and of itself.
"I'm sorry," he said, quietly, and the expression in his eyes shifted to something that seemed sad in a resigned sort of way. As if he'd heard a thousand of these kinds of stories (and perhaps been involved in a few) and no longer dared to expect that things would ever be any different - but couldn't entirely stop from caring, all the same. When he reached out to touch her, he took her face in his hands gingerly, as if somehow unable to believe that she wasn't still hurt, and he stared into her eyes for a long moment.
But no, she was unharmed, as she'd said. At least, she was now. And he had to believe that so was Emily. Wherever she was. (And it hurt him, a little, that he couldn't check on her and see for himself, but he didn't linger on that thought.) When he moved next, it was sudden enough that Ashley might be surprised by it, leaning down so that he could catch her mouth with his own and pull her into a kiss. There was a sublimated intensity to that act (it was almost a little possessive,) as if he meant to communicate to her that he cared more than he was saying. And perhaps he did. Jarod... often communicated this way.
The water started to boil. He broke the kiss and stepped over to the stove to pull the kettle off the heat before the high-pitched whine of the whistle could assault their ears. Then he set about making two cups of tea (one red, one black) in a matching pair of infusers and set the timer to 4 minutes (though Ashley's would require a couple more.)
[Ashley] He tells her he's sorry, and he seems to mean it in that sad, matter-of-fact way that they'd spoken of Alice's near death last year, or that Dylan was killed, or...well, any number of sad occurrences they've both been around to witness in Chicago. They're of a like mind on this. The world's a fucked-up place, and these kinds of things happen far too often, and it's impressive that they're both alive and more or less whole. These are things they both know, people who understand that human beings aren't removed from the brutality and strife (and beauty) of nature.
The only difference is that Ashley has started to wonder if this is something she should accept. Some day, perhaps the energy she's spent raging at everything and everyone who has things she does not will be channeled into a different kind of fight (people can hunger for change, too). Then again, perhaps not. She's hardly there yet. When he says he's sorry she smiles, once, and people don't only smile when they're happy: this has a distinctly bitter cast. Not for him.
When his hands come to rest on her face she looks back up at him and steps close enough to fold a hand against his chest, able to sense what he's doing, able to assume that he's checking. "I'm okay," she tells him quietly, and she probably means more than just her physical state. And she is. He can see the lingering scarring of severe internal damage that was not there before - her understanding of Life is not at the point where she can smooth such things away (assuming she even would) - but it looks old, now. Another mark that life leaves.
It surprises her when he kisses her. It surprises her more that it's intense, that there's a depth of feeling there, but after the half a beat it takes her to process, her response doesn't lack for either of those things. Her arms find their way around his waist, and who knows if she understood - it's Ashley, after all - but she seems glad to be here, all the same. There's a warmth underscoring what she does, and when he pulls away she lets him, because she isn't the sort to cling.
She smiles at him briefly while he goes about preparing the cups and leans her hip into the kitchen island again. "The Technocracy is probably going to be pretty pissed at us for it. I'm kind of expecting them to start dealing with us more directly soon." It's partially a warning, partially speculation. Partially challenge.
[Jarod] Ashley issued a warning that was also a bit of a challenge, and if Jarod had actually been a cat (rather than just giving off a strong impression of one) he might have flicked his ears back, but of course... he wasn't. Ultimately his response came as no response at all, though the information was registered and duly noted. Anywhere he went, the possibility of technocratic interest was present. He was a Tradition Disciple. In their eyes, that made him dangerous by default. And he was dangerous. He could tear apart someone's very existence just by thinking of it, but he was also dangerous in more subtle ways. It was more likely his ability to wind his way into a person's head and open things up that they hadn't even known existed that would make the Technocracy nervous. Hell, his very existence seemed to proclaim a kind of antidote to the mundane.
But he'd made efforts to keep himself off of their radar, and had so far largely succeeded. He had no direct connection to the chantry. He had no cabal. He was an isolated anomaly, living a fairly ordinary life (ordinary by grand, supernatural terms, anyway.) He posed no immediate threat. Even the company that he maintained control over (they'd gone public at the turn of the new year, but he still held the largest stock) was affecting change through entirely safe and non-magical methods. One would hope that this would appease the great Big Brother in the sky, but... he knew better than to hope.
"I imagine they will be," he finally said, after a long delay. When he turned around to face her again, he wore a bit of a wry smile. "So tell me, just how drunk did you get last night, and why on earth didn't you invite me?"
[Ashley] He turns back around to face her, and she was already starting over in his direction while he stood at the stove. They have a few minutes while the tea steeps; Ashley makes it often enough to know when things are ready almost by instinct, at this point. She glances once toward the cups and comes to lean at the counter next to the stove instead.
And after a moment, she reaches out and slides a hand around his side so that she can let it come to rest on his back. It's a light touch, unobtrusive, but something she just seems to want right now. Maybe because she wondered at the delay (she saw that look, last month), maybe because after everything, it's nice to feel something warm and solid even though she doesn't need the reassurance and she is her own sense of stability.
Then he mentions her drinking, and a wry smile touches her eyebrows and a corner of her mouth. "Tom invited me to a dive bar he goes to," she says. "I figured it wasn't your thing. I think it was...twelve shots? Thirteen?" She thinks. "He tried to get me to keep up with him."
It's likely that Thomas did not regret the evening quite as much as she did. She's much smaller. Then there's a smug, amused twist to her smile when she looks back up at him. "He told me he pissed you off, so it's probably better that I didn't invite you. He said you got pissed because he wouldn't sleep with you."
[Jarod] [Subterfuge - I am above this, really I am]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Jarod] There was a physicality to their relationship that had been there since the first time they'd slept together last year. Touch was not an unusual way for him to interact with people - in fact, he was a rather physically-attuned being, and Ashley was... well familiarized with this by now. But there was something heightened about it with her, perhaps because she was Hunger personified. Perhaps because he just liked her. He'd been physical like this with Emily, too, but Ashley... initiated more.
He didn't mind the touch on his back. It felt like a connection - a grounding. And he was happy enough to let thoughts of Technocrats drift away and just enjoy her presence... until she mentioned Thomas, and... what was apparently Thomas' rather vivid imagination. Ashley was right, of course. He wouldn't have enjoyed a dive bar, and he definitely wouldn't have enjoyed drinking shot after shot of cheap liquor with said infamous Hollow One. His reaction to this much was thoughtful and slightly amused, and he smirked as he tried to picture Ashley (with her diminutive frame) after that much drinking. But then she related the story that Thomas had evidently told about him, and Jarod had to check himself to keep from exhibiting a flash of outrage.
He looked at Ashley and snorted in disbelief. Perhaps a little offended (though not at her.) "You're kidding me, right?" The kid's logic really did just... boggle him sometimes. His tea was ready, so he turned around and stopped the timer before it went off, emptying the contents of the infuser into a large glass mug. (It was one of the newer kinds that released the tea through a mesh strainer in the bottom when set on top of a cup.) He set the timer for another two minutes before moving to the sink to rinse out and clean the infuser, unbuttoning and rolling his sleeves up a few inches before turning the water on.
"Actually, I pissed him off. Practically every time I saw that fucking kid, he whined and complained about all the shit he didn't have, so I figured I'd see if he wanted any of my extra clothes. I mean, I get stuff for free all the time. I've got designer shit falling out of my closet that I don't even want. And... you know, I noticed that he seemed to have a bit of a thing going with Morgan, and she never really struck me as someone who appreciated gutter-rat chic." He dried the infuser off and set it back on the counter, settling in next to Ashley again. "Anyway, he got all offended and caused this ridiculous scene. I swear I could have fucking clocked him, but it wouldn't have been worth the effort."
The timer went off. He'd forgotten to keep an eye on it this time. Turning around, he shut it off quickly and emptied Ashley's tea into a second mug. The rooibos was deep red and smelled like a rather intoxicating blend of cinnamon and rose petals. While cleaning the second infuser, Jarod suddenly laughed to himself. "Don't get me wrong, the kid's good looking, but I can walk out the door and get ten guys just like him that don't smell like an ash tray. Why do straight guys always assume that gay guys are just lusting after them like dogs in heat?"
[Ashley] Ashley lets her hand fall away when Jarod lets out that snort of disbelief, aware that he's angry but unsure for a moment of whether it's related to what she just told him, whether she just made a blunder of some kind. When Jarod begins to expound on things in a way that Thomas did not, however, it reassures her somewhat, and she turns a wry expression up toward him while he talks.
It doesn't surprise Ashley that Thomas was offended by what Jarod did. She's run afoul of the Hollow One's pride before. Even if she had not, "Giving someone stuff like that feels like you're asserting power over them. You have something to give away," she says, and one might find it odd that Ashley has that kind of insight until they were to recall that she studies sociology for a living. She has difficulty understanding individuals and their emotions, but often understands quite a bit about people in groups. About power dynamic.
It doesn't sound like an accusation, though. "He got pissed because he didn't get it, I guess." Thomas said as much. And then Jarod's question, referencing gay men and straight men, makes her grin. "Bisexual means you'll fuck anything that moves. Didn't you get the memo?"
She glances toward the cup of tea, picking it up and inhaling the steam. "Tom's a good kid, but he has a chip on his shoulder. He got in my face about being a Hermetic once. It's like we're fine until he remembers."
[Jarod] He grinned at her joke, turning to lead them out of the kitchen after picking up his tea and a couple of coasters. "Not quite anything. It also has to be sexy. That's a rather important distinction."
If he were really thinking right now, he'd know that they were probably speaking a little too loudly. The walls in his condo were thick and reasonably sound-proof, but that didn't stop a curious kid from overhearing a very adult conversation that was happening not terribly far from her door. And Ilana... was a very curious kid. (He'd learned this the hard way on multiple occasions.) At some point Jarod did seem to realize this, because he paused to glance down the long hallway as if to reassure himself that his daughter's bedroom door was shut.
It was, but he lowered his voice a little when he responded to her next. "You sound like Nick. Except that he would have called me an ignorant, elitist ass. Which I probably am." (Jarod had never been poor in his entire life, and though he'd experienced what it was like to have nothing in the way of modern conveniences for brief stretches of time, that wasn't the same as being in a different social class.)
He sat down on the couch, in front of the fireplace, and set the coasters down on the glass coffee table before settling back against the soft cushions and taking a slow sip of his tea. He didn't normally drink black at night, but lighter teas required a different temperature of water than Ashley's rooibos, and frankly it was a fair bet that he'd be up for awhile anyway. A little caffeine wasn't going to kill him.
"I did try to apologize," he admitted reluctantly. "For like... half a second."
[Ashley] Ashley is not used to being mindful of an eleven-year old, or of minding her tone when she's at someone's house. She would if Ilana were there, were more of a presence and she were more directly reminded of what is not appropriate. As it is, though, Ashley didn't even have little siblings growing up and by the time she took charge of Morgan the girl was more than old enough to hear whatever might be said. So she follows his gaze back, once, and then when she realizes where he was looking she appears momentarily chagrined.
It's probably not the kind of thing she'll have to be reminded of twice, at least. She pads out after him when he goes back into the main room and over toward the fire, and then sets her cup down on the coaster before settling onto the couch next to him. Once comfortable she leans over to pick up the mug, holding it against her chest. She hasn't sipped it yet; it's still too hot for her preferences.
When he mentions Nick, she slides a wry glance at him sidelong. "Nick and I have pretty different opinions about that, I think," she says. "Your experience is what it is. Social stratification exists and it doesn't really bother me. I'm not on a mission to change it." In fact she has taken advantage of it on numerous occasions, and without guilt.
Of course, one might be moved to question why she bothered to clarify how Thomas felt about the situation in that case. "He'll get over it," she says. "Probably when he gets over whining about what he doesn't have."
[Jarod] Jarod's politics were actually closer to Nick's than Ashley's were, but his perspective was uniquely his own. Trying to accurately place him on the spectrum of ideology could be difficult at times, and he remembered that Nick had been rather wary of him at first, for precisely this reason. Then one night they'd had a conversation where Jarod's rather intense antipathy for capitalism had become evident (ironic, perhaps, given the status and luxury that he fully enjoyed because of it,) and the younger man's reservation had evaporated... with extremely enjoyable consequences.
But politics were one thing, and instinct was something else. And Jarod never had been able to get over his deeply ingrained sense that some people were just better, stronger, and simply worth more than others. Perhaps surprisingly, his judgment of others didn't fall along class lines, but that didn't mean that he was immune to many of the stereotypes that one could easily apply to the upper-class. Hell, Jarod was an elitist asshole even without bringing his bank account into things.
Ashley's slightly callous dismissal of the whole affair endeared her to him, and he smirked in agreement when she said that last bit. There was another sip taken of his tea before he leaned forward to set the thing down. "He's just jealous because I get all the cool girls." This was both a teasing jab at Thomas and a playful compliment to present company. Sliding closer to Ashley, he came to rest next to her, legs touching. When he leaned in, he nudged her head back and began kissing teasingly along the line of her throat.
[Ashley] Ashley knows what it is like to be Thomas, or at least something like him. Her dismissal of the situation was callous, but it was partly callous because she sees herself in the young man. She sees something she used to be and something she is not always proud of having been. What she remembers of being twenty is that she was angry, threw acts of kindness in others' faces and snarled anytime they were to bring up their own problems, because it was too hard for her to see anything beyond the fact that for her the world had lost meaning.
She remembers all that, and for some people it might cause them to be moved to compassion for someone else going through a similar stage of life, or at least an understanding. Ashley sometimes just wants to push Thomas to get over it, thinking that he'll be happier once he does. That isn't how people work, though.
She takes a careful swallow of her tea, and the smile on her face transitions into something still playful but more genuine at what Jarod says. When he slides over to her she too leans forward to set her tea down on its coaster. "Probably not, but I'll roll with that interpretation for now," she says. Her eyes close when his lips touch her neck, and there's a quiet shift in her breathing, something deep and drawn in. She slides a hand under his shirt and runs her fingertips over the skin of his stomach, skimming a line over the waistband of his pants.
This is, most often, how these evenings go. She doesn't seem to mind.
[Jarod] For many teenagers, part of the appeal of sex is that it's something taboo - something they aren't supposed to be doing. Most adults could recall memories involving stealth and a kind of semi-terrified excitement during their first clumsy sexual experiences. Jarod's... had never been quite like that, but certainly there'd been plenty of moments in his early life when he'd had to try and conceal his actions from disapproving adults. That was a long time ago though, and in the interim years he'd grown extremely used to not having to curtail his whims or behavior in any way.
Then Ilana had come along. And that... had changed. Considering how overactive his sex life was, it might be surprising to note that there had only been one instance of his having slept with someone while Ilana was anywhere nearby, and that had been with Emily, in a hotel room, while the kids had been asleep in the next room over. He'd felt a bit guilty about it the next day, and had spent some time watching Ilana for signs that she might be upset or uncomfortable (she hadn't been.) In fact, he was probably more careful about these things than most parents, due in part to the lingering memory of his own childhood experiences with having had to grow up much too quickly.
His senses were already alert, and he had only to push them out a little to know that his daughter was, indeed, asleep. That was the reason he felt safe in letting his guard down a little, and he murmured a quiet little sound of muted anticipation against her neck when he felt her fingers graze the skin along his abdomen. But he didn't start removing clothes just yet, or otherwise attempt to rush into anything in particular. Instead, he kept kissing Ashley's throat, biting down a little, softly, and touching her skin with the tip of his tongue.
He kept at this for awhile, knowing full well that her neck was sensitive and that this was likely to instigate a heightened response. But then... he pulled away, smiled at her in a manner that was much too innocent, and reached out to pick up his tea again.
(And suddenly they were teenagers all over again.)
[Ashley] Ashley never really got much of a chance to be a teenager. When most kids were playing sports, visiting their friends after school and sneaking their boyfriends and girlfriends into their rooms at night, she was consumed by music. Maybe there'd been a few people interested - that kind of passion is attractive to some, after all - but if they were she never noticed until college.
In a way, the idea that she should be quiet because there's someone in the next room is a new one. This isn't something one thinks about in a college dorm (it's expected that you'll hear your neighbor's bedsprings at three a.m. and pound on the wall a few times and then laugh about it) and it wasn't something she thought about with Bran because he had his own place by then. There is a quick, concerned glance over the back of the couch toward Ilana's room as though she's worried that the girl is going to suddenly come popping out the door with some concern or other. She didn't grow up too quickly the way Jarod did - whatever childhood neuroses she has lie in a different domain - but it's still something she worries about, for a moment.
She relaxes, gradually, though what Jarod's doing helps it along. There's a soft, low sound that thrums against his lips now and again, a sharp intake of breath, and pretty soon she isn't thinking about anything else. Her fingertips move upward over his chest, brush over a nipple, before lowering again. And then he stops.
There's a bewildered, faintly indignant look shot in his direction, the black in her eyes nearly swallowing the blue in spite of the light from the fire. When he flashes that smile in her direction, she at least has enough grace to grin in response. At which point she also leans forward to pick up her tea and leans sideways into him, in the manner of someone affecting nonchalance. It could be seen as a taunt, almost.
Though "...You succeeded in making me completely forget what we were talking about," could be seen as a concession. As she sips at the tea, which is a more comfortable temperature now.
[Jarod] Ashley certainly wasn't the only one whose more basic drives were currently attempting to override her frontal lobe. Perhaps Jarod had just had more practice at maintaining a balance, at least... when it suited him to do so (or when he needed to.) He wasn't in a hurry right now, and seemed content to remain sitting with the warmth of her body resting against him, but that didn't mean his thoughts weren't preoccupied, or that he wasn't turned on (because he was.) He was extremely tuned in to her body's physical responses right now, and that was alluring enough in its own right. He closed his eyes as he sipped his tea, smiling a little when Ashley mentioned having forgotten what they were talking about.
When he opened his eyes again, he said, "We were talking about why Thomas hates me. But I'm happy to move on from that subject. How are things with... what's her name... Kae?"
As if they hadn't just been about to maul each other. As if it were completely normal for him to intermingle bouts of heavy petting with casual discussions over tea. (Come to think of it, it probably was.) One of his arms slipped around Ashley's waist, and his fingers slowly migrated beneath the hem of her shirts, until they found warm skin along her hip and lower stomach. There they remained for the moment, just tracing gently against her in a slow, soothing (or perhaps teasing) manner.
[Ashley] It's been a long time since she was this physically comfortable with another person. Years, certainly, and probably close to four or five of those, back before tension had crept into her relationship with Bran. She and Daiyu never really got to that point, and her interactions with friends, even her close ones, are generally lacking in this sort of intimacy. She and Kage have reached a point where they can talk about nearly anything, where they can predict one another's responses, but it's rare for them to touch and they're not the kind of friends who do a lot of hugging or pile onto the couch together.
Still, there's not really any awkwardness (or desperation) in how she takes to it; there hasn't been. Her head slides in against the side of his neck, settling comfortably, and she turns her eyes toward the fire. The way he's touching her is managing to be somehow relaxing and distracting at the same time.
She has plenty of practice in all forms of self-restraint though (she has mastered her Avatar, not the other way around) and she glances up at him, once, tilting her head back a little to do so, when he mentions Kae. Then she takes a sip from her cup and turns her gaze back to the fire again, watching the logs glow beneath the flame. "I actually haven't seen her since Thanksgiving," Ashley says. "But I've talked to her a little. She's talked a little about initiating me at Imbolc."
A corner of her mouth twitches. "Which, I think, holds a little more significance to her than it will for me, but I think she wants to see me again soon and explain a little more."
[Jarod] "Imbolc?" he blew his breath out in a huff, as if this both surprised and offended him. Ashley might remember that he'd mentioned once that he'd apprenticed for an entire year when he'd joined the Tradition, so perhaps this had an edge of latent jealousy. Like a student who'd completed a 20 page thesis only to find out that someone else had been given only a three-page essay in the same course by a different professor. "That's in three weeks. And you haven't even seen her in over a month. What the hell has she been teaching you, astrology?"
Of course, it was true that if Ashley wanted to, she could have simply initiated herself. Some Verbena did, and many of them achieved their greatest insights without the interference of others (Jarod included.) They were a Tradition of disparates. Still, it seemed to genuinely irritate him that Ashley had been left largely to her own devices and had then been declared fit for service without so much as one significant trial, particularly since her style and beliefs until recently had been fixed into a completely different paradigm.
Of course, the blame for this could be placed just as heavily on his own shoulders for refusing to take responsibility for any of this himself. And he... was aware of this, though that probably only served to disgruntle him further. It was almost enough to completely ruin his warm, sensual state, but... not completely. His hand had stopped moving while he tried to wrap his head around this, but then he sighed and relaxed a bit, letting his thumb resume tracing circles against her hip.
"I suppose this is about the time that you remind me that I had my chance to have a say in this already. And I was a selfish fuckhead about it." He smirked and took a long drink of his tea, then gazed into the glass pensively, watching the way the firelight set off golden highlights in the amber liquid.
[Ashley] It's true that the Verbena are much less structured than the Order of Hermes. Truth be told, when Kae had offered to initiate her Ashley had been a little surprised (and a little suspicious) that there weren't a lot of hoops to jump through, a lot of people to impress. She expected a much more formal mentorship, too, and it took her a while to get used to the idea that neither Kae nor Jarod were willing to take her on in a full time capacity.
Still, that doesn't mean that there's any chagrin when he shows that irritation. Ashley's head tilts up again and there's a frown that draws her brows together. No rising anger (hunger) when he asks her what Kae has been teaching her, though some might perhaps expect it - but there are very specific circumstances that draw an angry response from her, and disagreement is not one of them. "You still could," she tells him, at his last statement. "Nothing's really set yet."
And Jarod, well, she's willing to work to earn his respect as a Traditionmate, apparently. There's a pause as she takes another sip from her own mug, letting a hand rest on the top of his thigh now that he's sketching circles over her skin again. "Kae's rationale for not making me wait is that when I was affected with Jhor, it happened on the first of January. I walked with it until June and finding my way out of it was what got me interested in studying with the Verbena in the first place. She said I've already walked my year."
There's another contemplative glance toward the fire. "It wasn't easy, and I did learn, but I honestly was kind of surprised that there wasn't...more red tape, I guess. When I was initiated into House Tytalus it took almost a year and my mentor kept setting up attacks and tests and..." She shrugs. "I just assumed with you guys it was a looser setup."
[Jarod] He still could, she said, and Jarod's pensive expression deepened, but he didn't respond. Not right now, anyway. It was something that deserved more serious consideration than he'd given it up until this point, but he wasn't about to turn around and change his mind just because he disagreed with the rationale of one of his Tradition-mates. Ashley was, after all, an extremely capable person, with an intense work ethic and a strong Will. It wasn't as if Kae was letting in some naive kid off the street.
"Looser, yes. Easier, no. It isn't about red tape. You can leave that to the Hermetics. And it isn't about the passage of time, either. It's about whether or not you actually are Verbena." He leaned forward and set his tea down on the coffee table, and when he resettled himself he tilted his head down to look at her. "Do you think that you are?"
[Ashley] Ashley gives some serious thought to this question. It's weighed in a few moments of silence, given the sort of gravity that she has granted to her dealings with his Tradition so far. There hasn't really been a moment where Ashley hasn't been quite serious about her studies with them, really. Too overeager at the beginning, perhaps, and unsure of how to proceed and learn, but it hasn't seemed at any point as though she's doing it because she's bored, or because she wants to rebel, or because she thinks it will be easy.
"I feel as much like one as I do a Hermetic," Ashley says, which is important: she knows that while the Order is her first Tradition, it will not take precedence. It can't anymore, if she goes through with joining. There's a moment of quiet and her brows furrow together again. "I mean, it's still new. I don't feel like I know as much about it, or about how to be a good one. But I don't..."
She hesitates, not because she's anxious but because she is trying to figure out how to articulate her thoughts. "I feel like there were a lot of Verbena beliefs that I had before. I don't think I've changed so much as...brought out things that were already there, that don't have a place in the Order of Hermes. Now I feel like I can be both."
[Jarod] She gave an honest, legitimate response to what had probably been a difficult question. How does one know whether or not one is something that's extremely subjective to begin with? There were members of the Tradition that would insist that Jarod was not a real Verbena, and he'd been a card-carrying member since he was 24. They knew very little about him though, and made their decisions based on what he would consider to be arbitrary evidence. Perhaps that was what he was doing to Ashley by assuming that she wasn't ready. Perhaps he'd just wanted to give her more to think about.
"Perhaps you are, then." He smiled a bit. "It's more for you to say than it is for me."
It was a given that sooner or later he'd get around to distracting them both again, and sure enough... a few moments after his voice dropped off and a sleepy silence settled in around them (not even the fire was making noise any longer,) his hand began to explore her skin more meaningfully, sliding up to trace along her ribs, then back down, digging fingertips gently into the soft hollow of her stomach. When he got to her jeans, they dipped just past the waistline, but stopped there, making little tickling circles.
"I'll admit that you do seem like one, on occasion." And he meant that as both compliment and flirtation.
[Ashley] It is subjective in a way that the Order of Hermes is not. That said, there is still room in the Tradition that is currently her only one for differences in belief; there wouldn't be as many Houses as there are, if that weren't the case. The writings of Hermes Trimestigus have been read over and over and reinterpreted through time, applied to different codes and philosophies. Now that she's started to move away from the most commonly accepted Hermetic practices, she's been forced to defend what she believes, as an individual, more and more.
So Jarod's comment, though it does set her to thinking, doesn't trouble her overmuch. She knows what she feels; she'd answered honestly.
As the silence deepens she sets her empty teacup down on its coaster and sinks in against him a little more deeply than she had been, enjoying the quiet and the languid warmth. Watching the fire, as the hissing has died away and there are just bright coals lighting on the logs now. When his hand begins his explorations there's a sigh and a stretch and she arcs just slightly into it, letting it draw things back into sharper focus.
At what he says she turns a smirk up toward him, then leans up and kisses the underside of his jaw. "That's funny, because if I hadn't known better I might've wondered if you were a Hermetic at one point, hanging around in a bookstore reading poetry."
[Jarod] "Some of us savages do know how to read. Shocking, but true." The comment was teasing, but his voice had an affectionate tone (he'd sheathed his claws for the evening - he often did with her these days.) "Maybe I missed my calling. Do you think your Hermetic friends back in Boston would like me? I could track down your ex and see if he'd be willing to give me a few pointers on joining the Tradition."
He shifted on the couch, unwrapping his arm from around her and giving her side a little nudge in the direction of his lap. "Lie down?" It was a gentle request, and one that she could freely ignore if she wanted to, but since they were both in a fairly similar mindset at the moment, he wasn't disappointed. Reaching down, he grabbed the edge of her sweater and pulled it off carefully, folding it over the sofa's arm-rest. Then he touched her neck, tracing the curve of her throat with his thumb, then her lower lip, which he lingered on.
His other hand stretched up beneath her undershirt, hiking the fabric up a few inches as he sought out and found one of her breasts. He brushed over the curve, then his fingers worked their way under her bra.
And just in case she'd forgotten that a child slept nearby, he took the hand that had been grazing her lips and put a finger briefly to his own. Then he smiled and whispered, "So what do you want to do for the rest of the night?"
[Ashley] "I don't see that ending well. He decided he hates you," Ashley says, with a moment's wry amusement. Hate is possibly a strong word, but Ashley has rarely seen Bran react with that kind of lasting animosity toward another person. Granted, there were several factors involved, but given how well she knows the man, she finds it entertaining. "I got a couple versions of the lecture about how I should seek a higher self and shouldn't debase magic..."
She waves a hand.
When he asks her to lie down, she glances up at him a moment and then does so, settling her head in his lap. Her breath hitches when his hand slides under her bra and she tilts up into his hand, quiet after he puts his finger to his lips except for a shift in breathing. She looks up at him a moment, then slides his shirt up a few inches and leans in to kiss the skin just above the waistband of his pants, nipping once.
He'll have to listen hard for her voice to reach him, but it does, and her words are - perhaps expectedly - blunt. "I want to fuck you," she says, and then there's another kiss placed and a glance up at him. "You should show me your room."
[Jarod] Ashley had always been a rather fascinating blend of opposites. She was bold, but... also shy. Never inhibited (this was something he appreciated about her) but she didn't have the same easy confidence that he did when it came to certain aspects of sexuality. He often spoke like this when they were together, whispering in her ear or making half-moaned requests and exclamations. It wasn't that he was much of a talker during sex - he was usually far too engrossed in the act to maintain any kind of consistent dialogue (or to even want to) - but he did use words to add emphasis at particular moments. And he used them quite a bit before hand, in part because it had made Ashley blush a few times in the past. He liked making her blush. Something about it seemed to render her a little more human.
But she had very rarely done the same thing to him. When she did it now, in conjunction with the sensation of teeth on his skin, he closed his eyes and bit down hard on his lip. At the angle she was at, it would be fairly impossible not to notice how turned on he was, and he shifted a little, uncomfortable. His thumb ran over her nipple, scratching it gently, before he finally pulled his hand away with some reluctance.
"Can you make sure that she doesn't hear us?" he asked quietly. (Ashley was a Hermetic, after all.)
[Ashley] Ashley is a Hermetic. This particular Art is still not one that she's ever focused on much; she was required to learn it in order to join the Tradition, and she learned a little more after she arrived in Chicago just because she figured that hell, someone should properly represent the Tradition, but she doesn't make frequent use of it. Still, it's been useful the past few days. Shielding a man from bullets, containing an explosion and now, apparently, sound proofing Jarod's bedroom.
Ashley can almost hear Victoria Kurtz rolling in her grave.
When he asks her that, she looks up at him and reaches up, her fingertips grazing his jaw, the curve of his cheek, for a moment before she pushes herself back into a sitting position. "Sure," she says. She reaches under the collar of her shirt for the chain (this time the link is copper). Typically this is only something she uses when she has to shut loud music out, on the occasion her path happens to intersect with it (a concert over the summer comes to mind.) Really, she's glad to give it another use.
It takes a little while. She uses a fingertip to trace a symbol over his skin - a lasting one isn't always needed, it just makes it easier - intricate, by the feel of it. Taking hold of his hand, she uses it to mark herself similarly, and her Will stills and dampens the air around them both, containing whatever sound or speech is made to the two of them without letting it go much further. Hopefully the Verbena isn't too impatient.
[Forces 2, diff 6, vulgar no witnesses. -1 for focus, -1 for taking time, -1 for practiced rote. Three successes needed.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 3)
[Jarod] He sat still while she worked, watching her quietly. This was not a sphere that he himself had any grasp of, and it often interested him to see others do things that were outside of his own enlightened experience. The mastery of Forces in particular had been something that he'd been curious to learn for a long time now, and perhaps... some day he might ask her for help. With the exception of the chain around her neck, Ashley's rituals were not always all that different from his own. Not right now, though. It was starting to get late, and there was a woman asking to fuck him. One had to have priorities in life.
He felt the touch of her resonance on his skin, surrounding him and her both. When she was done, he stood up and beckoned for her to follow. Despite the shield around them, he walked with an instinctive stealth as he passed his daughter's room, bare feet padding along the floor silently. His bedroom door lay all the way at the end of the hall, and when he opened it, he turned on the lights, setting the level to a gentle ambiance (evidently his lights had a range that encompassed more than simply on and off.) When Ashley joined him, he closed the door behind her and locked it, then walked over to the bed. The room was... huge. Much larger than her own bedroom. Nearly as large as his own living room, in fact. In here, there was carpet instead of hardwood, and it felt soft and new. There was a bamboo plant and a desk near the door, and a soft, velvety-looking love-seat up against one wall. The bed was at the far end. This was actually the same bed that he'd had at his old penthouse, if Ashley remembered it (a few pieces of the old furniture remained since the move,) though it had new sheets and a thick, very warm-looking black comforter that had the faint shimmer of silk threads.
Jarod pulled the buttons open on his shirt, one by one, then sat down on the edge of the bed. He'd let Ashley finish the job of removing it, leaning in to kiss her as she did so. He wasn't in a hurry tonight, and she'd soon discover this in the slow, languorous manner that he set about removing their clothes. The covers were pulled back, and the sheet beneath them felt almost luxuriously soft (obviously a high thread-count) on Ashley's skin when she lay down again.
His lips were on her throat again, kissing (biting,) and his voice sounded throaty when he said, "I want to fuck you too." But... he didn't. At least, not right away. Instead he mapped the skin of her body with his mouth and hands, memorizing what was already entirely familiar, but he intentionally avoided the most sensitive places. After awhile his lips found their way back to her breast, and his tongue circled around the nipple without touching it. Just as he was about to, he lifted away and did the same thing to the other one. Then he went lower, kissing along her stomach - using his teeth to bite gently on the inside of her thigh.
He'd keep this up until she grew visibly frustrated, and perhaps here their Wills might come up against each other for a time, for they were both very stubborn people, but it wasn't the same kind of nearly open combat they'd once shared. They'd built up more of a trust now, and both of them had given ground willingly on past occasions. It didn't feel like they were competing any longer, so much as playing a game that they could choose to stop at any moment. And eventually (probably at the point when Ashley finally gave in and insisted - in one way or another - that he stop teasing her) he'd stop holding himself back.
And it was probably a very good thing that Ashley had shielded their sounds from outside listeners, because he was not quiet in the slightest.
