[Jarod Nightingale] After a weekend of alarmingly warm weather and streets shrouded in fog, proper winter had once again returned to Chicago. The runoff had frozen into patches of slick ice along the roads and sidewalks, making walking treacherous, but the city had been ready with sand and salt to combat this problem. Outside it was cold, but inside the Hung Drawn and Quartered there was warmth of both the climate-controlled and alcoholic varieties. Even winter creatures occasionally liked to warm up - especially if it involved relaxing with a good drink.
And so, Jarod was here this evening, alone but not particularly lonely. He'd already ushered in the New Year properly over the Solstice, and had spent the calendar holiday of New Year's Eve hosting a party in his flat which had proved a fairly enjoyable event, if somewhat troublesome to clean up after the next day. Today he'd felt like getting out for awhile after he'd put Ilana to bed, so he'd driven here and settled into a booth with a tumbler of scotch, which he was presently gazing at thoughtfully. He had on dark grey dress-pants and a black sweater, and was sitting with one foot up on the bench, arm tucked loosely around his knee.
[Ashley McGowen] [...?]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Ashley McGowen] Apparently, it was warm in Chicago over the weekend. That's what Ashley keeps hearing.
She spent the weekend in a goddamn jungle and in the too-warm cabin of a Boeing, and sometimes when you get what you want it's not quite what you wanted after all, and so she almost welcomes the fact that the cold has returned to Chicago's streets when she arrives back in them. In spite of all the time she had to sleep on the plane, it proved fairly difficult to do so, and she had a long nap upon arriving back at her apartment.
Which leaves this evening. It's January third on the other side of the world where she was, where the ashes still are, but here it's still the day after New Year's and there are plenty of people who either haven't stopped partying or who are drinking in order to nurse their hangovers.
Ashley doesn't have a hangover to nurse, but she's still here. Maybe it's just to catch up on the drinking she didn't do in China this weekend. She arrives with a notebook in one hand, spinning a pen between the fingers of the other, reaching up for a moment to loosen her scarf and unbutton the toggles of her coat. Her hand pauses, hovers when she catches Jarod's resonance somewhere in the room. She's unused to finding people already in one of her haunts - and if the truth be told she's a little possessive of them - but Jarod is, at least, one of the handful of magi she doesn't feel resentful at finding here on his own.
Unbuttoning her coat the rest of the way (she has a pair of jeans and a black buttondown on beneath), she wanders over toward the booth he's at. She slides in across from him, setting her notebook and pen down on the table, and looks at him staring into the glass of scotch. After a moment she too pretends to peer intently into it. "Scrying exercise?"
[Jarod Nightingale] "Mm," he responded contemplatively, pressing his lips together for a moment. He'd felt the Adept's approach (and there'd been little surprise there, since this was, after all, Ashley's hang-out) but hadn't looked up right away when she sat down. This implied a sense of familiarity - that they could simply walk in and out of each other's lives without much ado. "I'm looking for my soul. Have you seen it?"
He smiled a bit - a brief, knowing curl to one side of his mouth - and raised his eyes up to meet hers. Then he lifted the glass and took a drink from it. "How was your trip?"
It was a deceptively simple question, and Ashley could choose to answer it the way that many people would - by giving a generic response (it was nice, it was tiresome, etc,) but the expression of quiet interest that he fixed her with suggested that he did genuinely want to know how her trip went. He'd been to Kunming a couple of times himself, but not recently, and it hadn't had quite the same resonance for him as it might have for Ashley. Back then, it had yet to become the place where a dead friend rested.
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley pushes her coat and scarf to the inside edge of the bench, moving her notebook to the side out of the way. It's not the one she got for Christmas from Kage - not the Book of Ashley McGowen, intended to be used as a journal, illustrations hovering about the letters - because she already loves that book and is much too careful with it to bring it out to a bar or expose it to the elements. She has others. There's a temporary halt so that she can glance up and over at Jarod at his words, but by the time he smiles and raises his eyes she's already gone back to situating herself.
"Given the number of times I've been called soulless, I'm probably a terrible person to ask," she says. Though, really, those are words that haven't been said within recent memory. No one who saw how she reacted to the chantry attack could deny that she has one, somewhere.
Ashley looks back up at him again once she's settled and then pauses for a moment to ask for a glass of vodka from the waiter who has suddenly appeared. Maybe they keep watch for her here. "It was shorter than I'd have liked and too long at the same time," she says, honestly, flicking her eyes up to his after the young man has disappeared.
A beat. "I, um. I went to see Daiyu's ashes. They were taken home and I didn't really get a chance to go earlier, since there was still an open Labyrinth and a barabbi Adept of the Ars Mentis hanging around. I hadn't really been before."
[Thomas Black] ((Per & awareness, because you never know))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Thomas Black] He had already been to Ashley's, she was not in there, so the next stop was the Hung Drawn and Quartered. He would have called her but his phone had taken one too many hits over the celebration period and was beyond his abilities to restore, he will get around to buy another one....some day.
At worst she would not be there and she would be at the clubhouse, which he was unwilling to enter even now, his personnel reason more powerful than any ban. There's a cigarette between his lips, black rings around his eyes and that pale tone he has been carrying around with him. Still he was closer to normal that most days . He had a starter, a main and a dessert of Technocrat fear, and thought his was consumption the act of taking, of filling but never being full he ate like a starving man there emotions.
Even as he stops outside the bar his eyes close and he knows she is there. Her resonance that strong he can sense it from here, but it's her hunger that was the most defining part about it to him, the one he joined with, merged felt a sense of...peace. There was something else there as well...sensual...cold...."Catman." He rolls the cigarette into the corner of his mouth as he walks on inside with a snort the heat blasting his face and turning it red as it was consumed. Back to some sense of normality clothing wise, long tan coat, tracksuit top, ripped jeans and ratty converse.
His first stop is the bar where he waits to get served a few people giving him a look as he is still smoking but as always Thomas does not seem to care.
[Jarod Nightingale] Li Daiyu's ashes - at least, most of them - resided in a Buddhist temple not far from where her mother and father lived. Some time had passed since the funeral rites, but a handful of people still came to visit her remains. The Akashic had been well-liked, and would be well-remembered by the people who'd known her (even by her father, who spoke to her memory more openly now than he ever had while she'd been alive.) There wasn't much wisdom to be found in the ashes, though. What there was of Daiyu - her soul, her bodhicitta, whatever you chose to call it - wasn't there in that temple. If her beliefs held true, then she was already reborn in the body of another child somewhere. And perhaps someday that child would grow up to be a similar person to the one she'd been before - only a little more enlightened, and with a little more wisdom. And maybe that child would embrace peace, as Daiyu's father had wanted her to do, or maybe she would decide that there were still things that needed to be fought for.
Jarod let his foot slide down to the floor and shifted to re-settle himself in the booth while Ashley spoke, keeping his eyes on her. After awhile he said, gently, "I thought maybe that's why you went."
He looked like he was about to say something else, but then Thomas entered the bar, and Jarod's lips pressed closed. (Whatever it was, it wasn't something meant for public discussion.) Instead, after a pause, he added "Next time, if you like, maybe I'll go with you. I could use the excuse."
[Ashley McGowen] Ashley had a somewhat confused upbringing in regard to the afterlife. She's been open with those who have asked about having been raised Irish Catholic - her mother was - even though her father most assuredly is not. He's a Buddhist, and would direct her attention along those lines when she would ask (because she'd been curious even as a child) and that vast difference in belief systems and worldview, and their stubborn adherence to the idea that each was the Right Way, was doubtlessly one of the things that made her parents miserable together.
So it's hard to say what she might have expected, visiting the ashes. It wasn't out of a sense that Daiyu's soul was there, that her spirit was hovering around somewhere. Ashley went for herself. Make no mistake: even those things that benefit the people around her, even when she gives things to them, it's done for herself (and maybe them too, but who can say.)
Ashley doesn't look at Jarod when he offers to go. Her gaze trails away, ostensibly to find the waiter who is making his way back over and to accept her glass from him once he does. There's a pause; it's not because she's put off by the offer. Just that she has to swallow a hard lump before speaking. "I, um..."
There's something consuming nearby and it snaps her attention upward. "Yeah," she says to Jarod, once, before she finds Thomas' eyes where he is over by the bar. And then she beckons the Hollow One over.
[Jarod Nightingale] [Empathy]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[Jarod Nightingale] [I disagree with this assessment. +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Thomas Black] He tilts his head to one man who was complaining about the smoking at the bar. He looks at the end, he was smoking fumes at this point anyway as he takes the tab end from his lips and as someone exits he puts it between his thumb and forefinger and flicks it outside the door for it to be caught by the wind and taken where ever it was destined to go. He snorts the smoke out of his nose as the woman behind the bar will not serve him until he has done so. He offer both an apologetic and enticing grin and then she blinks a few times and asks if she knows him, he of course says no, that he has one of those faces. Of course this woman has been whistled to by Thomas, shouted at, smoke blown at, ass grabbed. Each time it was like groundhog day, 'do I know you', 'one of those faces pet'. It would not do for her to think him that Thomas. She finally submits and gets him his order.
He downs the whiskey chaser as he picks his pint, turns from the bar and heads straight over to the table with Ashley and Jarod even as he is beckoned "'ope I ain't disturbin'" He takes a seat regardless of their answer, he sits next to Ashley if there sat opposite each other or he sit opposite if there together. "Catman, 'ows tricks, 'appy new year an all that jazz" He puts his pint down some spilling on the table and brings his hands up and gives him the jazz hands half heartedly, then he clicks his fingers and points to Ashley. "You Miss, I 'ave info for regardin' the rekkie we did on the crazy mickey...if you don't want it 'ere, give me a lemon. The dog's on the blower so outta the loop for a few." He looks between them "If I'am disturbin', me apologises, just let me know a lemon, I'll be outta yer 'air, don't wanna get in the way of anythin'."
He sips his pint, ice blue eyes regard both of them, he was too worked up at the moment to be relaxed between spreading myths, working the streets, getting into the Mobster scene and breaking into secure Technocrat facilities Thomas was practically buzzing. Though it didn't quite reach his eyes, and those smiles he gave never quite seem to go as high as they once did, like they had forgotten how.
[Jarod Nightingale] He didn't miss the way she swallowed, and for a moment his expression shifted to something a little sad. It wasn't a common look on him, that empathy. One might expect it to seem wrong somehow - out of place on his coldly beautiful and too-perfect features. But it wasn't. It just made him look human. (Perhaps, like Ashley, he had a soul after all.)
But he'd have to wait for another time to talk to her about love and death and regret. Perhaps it would happen some night in the near future, leaning against each other on her sofa or in the quiet, thoughtful moments after sex. Maybe he'd finally get around to showing her his new penthouse, and they could sit in front of the fire. Or maybe they'd both go back to pretending that they were too strong or selfish to feel pain in any lasting, meaningful way. Maybe they'd never talk about it at all.
Thomas sat down next to Ashley. Jarod glanced at him, his expression having once again fallen back into neutrality. He gave the question some consideration before responding. "Tricks are all right, though I'm starting to wonder if I've had all the good ones. Maybe this is a sign that I should move again." A flicker of a grin (cocky) and he took a sip of his scotch. Thomas had news for Ashley, and Jarod fell quiet as he let them speak. If indeed he was bothered by the Hollow One's presence, he at least didn't show it.
[Ashley McGowen] When Thomas moves in to sit next to her on the bench, Ashley scoots to make room for the Hollow One and immediately takes a long swallow of her drink (vodka today, not beer). Their resonances can't help but have that effect on each other: when Thomas is around Ashley finds herself consuming more than she otherwise would, finds that she doesn't have as tight a rein on her own hunger as she usually does. If she weren't twenty-nine she might consider him a bad influence; as it is, Ashley is hardly a wide-eyed youth anymore and more than capable of corrupting her own damn self.
"Hey, Tommy," she says. She doesn't seem bothered by his presence either. Truthfully, Thomas is one among a handful of magi she is almost always glad to see regardless of circumstances. She doesn't let him know that, of course, or at least is probably never going to vocalize the sentiment. There's a wry twist of her mouth. "I'd tell you where you can get a hold of me until you get a new phone, but I guess I'm predictable enough that you figured it out anyway."
There's a glance flicked in Jarod's direction at his reply to Thomas, at his insinuation, but nothing said. She looks back at Thomas. "You can tell me here," she says. Then, "How was Christmas?"
[Thomas Black] Thomas wandering nature had spiked but it was his consumption that swarmed around him, almost feeling physical with its companion hunger stirring it. It had consumed so much recently Thomas was having trouble keeping it contained, instead it was snapping at the cold Jarod gave off consuming it for itself taking on aspects of it, it hungered now more than ever, as it always did when he was in close presence to Ashley, the peace it brought him was not always so for others. His sensuality it tasted, savoured it but found nothing that to satisfy it, Jarod was indeed the model of a man, perfect in a very feline way but Thomas was strictly a ladies' man so though he felt that sensual presence of Catman he let that part of him wander past him never consumed it, never took it on aspects of it "Robin' to 'ear squire." He nods to Jarod as he goes into his pocket and pulls out his cigarettes "'elp yerself to a coffin nail..." He smirks as he pulls one out and places it in his lips
Whatever issues he had originally with Jarod when he sat down at that first TNR night had long pasted, he was quite prophetic when he said he had doubts they would run in the same circles and he was right the only times their paths crossed was in the company of Ashley or Emily.
He looks to Ashley "Yeah thanks for that, emotional wud be too soft a word pet." He brings out the old brass zippo and flicks it open lighting the flame and bringing it to his lips. "I ate well for once, so I reckon thats sumthin' anyfrog, on yer urban front I got a few mobsters eatin' outta me german, reckon where onto a winner there but that ain' the oxford yer after..." He keeps the zippo in his hand, his fingers nimbly flicking it opena nd shut again as his eyes go to Jarod then back to Ashley. "Next lemon you wanna do a rekkie like this, I suggest you let me put together a firm, 'cos thieves they ain't, I sud 'ave gone in on me todd." His lips purse "That said, me Doc an Trench, it worked well together but the word is not robin."
His tones become more hushed, he does not walk them through it by hand, instead he sticks to the facts. His manner seemed to change subtly, he seemed almost professional.
"There doin' the place up, it's both a beachhead an a containment facility. The fence on the outside is more functional then it looks, it is rigged to trigger if anythin' with juice is goin' under it, over it....don't even 'ave to touch it..." He clicks his fingers trying to find the right word. Some of the true mage means get missed on him because he has had to name a lot of them himself. "Juice is Quint. frequent patrols, sumone respondin' to an alarm with in 30 seconds, the place was crawlin' though, regular patrols on the inside on all three levels but the majority of forces are contained with in the south wing, that's were the duracell is but the whole place is fitted with cameras and motions sensors inside an out. The North wing is the most easiest to access as it is bust open with holes in the walls, ceilings and the like. There also trip wires in the corridors an a lot of the rooms 'ave an counter shazam effect tryin' to strip down anythin' it's range, an wud 'ave done to use 'ad the duracell not bein' 'avin' a paddy...the node is tied in with the lunar cycle, I over 'eard this from sum guard. Now there gettin' twitchy, the place is messin' with their noggin' sum of those that 'ave been there the longest are loosin' the plot. The anomalies are worst on the crescent moon, sumtin' broke through an we took a chance to do sum scans an the like, Trench went forward to 'ave a look at the duracell, 'e needed closure." There a pause here as the cigarette smoke has now started to pool around him each drag more hunger than the last, each intake burning his throat more. He was not the only one thought Thomas never found what he was looking for.
"I did sum wanderin' scans, it looked like fuckin' Stargate over the duracell no joke, a fuckin' technomancy gateway over it an the fuckers there look like Stormtroopers...this gate way was buzzin' with energy, an it want bloody Kansas on the other side. At least ten in the room, guns, lazers it cud 'ave been a hollywood set, now the node 'as a twistin' nature, they were 'appenin' around ever 20 minutes once the moon was up in it's zenth, an these twists knocked out alot of there shazham shit, not the techno stuff but the anti shazam counter measures an the like, the duracell fucked them up every 20 minutes like clock work. If yer gonna 'it it do it on the crescent all fuckin' 'ell breaks loose but yer gonna loose sum folks Ash...that fuckin' duracell will be sum fuckers Moby Dick I guarantee it."
He sips his pint as he lets her digest it, it was as short and to the point as he could make it without coming off as bias except at the end when he gave his constructive comments. "The Doc an Trench will no doubt fill in the gaps, they were robin I'll tell you that an sum of that stuff I said I cud not 'ave found out without 'im, but I tell ya this as well, they know sumone was there, one of them was spotted, not ID but spotted, neither of them 'ad a stealthy bone in there body, 'specally the Doc...but they did do robin."
[Jarod Nightingale] Once given free reign to talk, Thomas relayed the information he'd discovered to Ashley. It took some time, and Jarod, listening on the sidelines, was quiet throughout. Whatever his reaction to all of this was, he kept it to himself. This wasn't the first time he'd heard about the increasing technocratic presence in the city, but it was certainly more detail than anyone else had mentioned so far. It also seemed fairly clear that at least some of the Tradition-mages (and independents) intended to do something about it.
Despite having Woken Up at the tail end of the Ascension War, Jarod had managed to stay largely under the technocratic radar until he'd moved to New York. He'd gotten lazy there - too confidant and complacent - and it had ultimately cost him a library full of priceless relics and nearly every single material possession that he owned. Still, they'd left his bank accounts intact (this had been a message, not a real attack) and he'd escaped unharmed, which was more than most could attest to.
Now he had a daughter, and an investment that he couldn't afford to abandon. There was decidedly more to lose this time around. So he listened, and he made very, very careful note of everything that was said. But he didn't contribute, and he didn't offer to help.
Eventually he finished his drink and leaned back in the booth, letting his gaze slide from Thomas to Ashley.
[Ashley McGowen] Given that she noticed Jarod's reaction when the Technocratic presence in town was mentioned, maybe there's a reason Ashley is letting him stay for this conversation, to hear it and have the immediacy of all of it placed under his nose. In case he does want to step in. She's called him her friend but what they are to each other is still nebulous in any case; it's possible that he really isn't anything more than a tool and this situation was all carefully calculated and orchestrated.
But let's not kid ourselves: Ashley's about as likely to be hiding a puppetmaster mentality as Thomas is to be hiding a conformist, or as Jarod is to be hiding a secret desire to find Jesus. She thinks highly enough of him to let him listen in, and he's a Tradition disciple, after all: this is as pertinent to him as to the rest of them, regardless of what he chooses.
She listens to all the information Thomas offers up, her brows furrowing when he tells her that either Nathan or Atlas might have been seen. "All right," she says. "I'll talk to the two of them too." Then, thoughtful, "The node seemed different when Molly did her scrying. Creative energy, it seemed like then." It had also seemed twisting to her, in flux: perhaps that's all part of what it is, some manner of redefining itself.
"We still have to do what we have to do, but knowing this will help. Thanks, Tom." Which is a brief response, but Ashley is clearly chewing away at all of it; it's a lot of information. "Sorry we couldn't send along people with a similar skillset. We have what we have."
[Thomas Black] His work at this junction was done. It was Ashley's information as far as Thomas was concerned, they had an accord. He has been chain smoking since he sat down the hunger forcing him to keep going the smoke bellowing from him like a chimney.
"They might 'ave got away with it, we were movin' away from there patrols but only a fool thinks yer enemy is stupid or relies on luck, 'ad play yer german like they was." He makes the distinction between them and him because there was some pride in this for him, it might have been a criminal act but he was good at it and he would not want his track record marked by the incompetence of others. At Molly's scrying he just shakes his head "Trust me Ash, second lemon I was in there, chaotic twistin' is all it 'as been, I reckon it's still goin through it's birthin' pains but you 'ave to wonder linked to the lunar cycle gotta be sum story there ain't it." He pucks the cigarette from his lips lifting up his pint and downing half of it in one motion his throat gulping it down adams apple moving with the fluid like he needed no air.
"Next lemon you wanna do recon, out source it." Which was his way of saying come to him, you never know Ashley might get a discounted price. It is only at this point he catches on to what Jarod had spoken about earlier so focused on his own information "Oh I get it, you've shagged 'er." He clicks his fingers and he seems not surprised in the slightest. Jarod was an attractive man and a slut. The question should be who he hasn't slept with compared to who he has.
His other hand comes up and rubs at his eyes. "But yeah, Doc took sum tecno-thingy's as well, so get with 'im, an Trench saw the duracell, plus he was whippin' up Glue of the world, never got round to pickin' it up but that will give 'im sumthin' no doubt."
[Jarod Nightingale] It's true, Ashley could have orchestrated this in order to push him into feeling as though he wasn't stepping up to the plate by choosing not to involve himself in dealing with the technocrats, but Ashley's method of dealing with others was generally a lot more direct, and Jarod didn't suspect her of any manipulation. If she wanted something from him, or felt as though she needed to say something... she'd say it.
So he remained aloof and quiet.
That is, until Ashley went on to describe the energy of the Node, and her words set off a flash of memory in the back of his mind. Jarod's outward reaction was fairly subtle, but there were clues there if one happened to be looking: a faint arch of eyebrows, straightening of the spine, a more rigid, alert set to his muscles. And then a crease in his forehead - something between irritation and concern. But they were still talking, so he didn't interrupt.
And then Thomas made a circle in the conversation, interpreting Jarod's teasing twist of language a few steps after the fact, and the Verbena's expression shifted to something akin to amusement. There was a faint huff of laughter, and then... a correction. "Tricks, in the common vernacular: gay men who engage in casual sex. Last I checked, Ashley wasn't a gay man. Unless she's had some stellar plastic surgery."
This didn't, of course, rule out the possibility of them having shagged. But as with Emily, Jarod did not confirm or deny.
A glance back to Ashley, and then, more seriously: "Do you know a Cultist named Lara?" Thomas did, of course. Jarod had first met Lara after being introduced to her by the Brit. "She offered me ecstasy not that long ago. A static effect had been used on it. Couldn't tell exactly what, but... it had that same resonance. Creative."
[Ashley McGowen] "I believe you," Ashley says to Thomas. But the Hollow One mentions that there's a story there, mentions that there were just enough hints to indicate that there's more to it. And of course, it's a story they don't know; it's a story that will die with the node if they don't dig it up. There's a pensive tilt to her brows, when he says that, because Ashley was opposed to destroying the node in the first place, but it's like the dragon: interesting and unique as it might be, beautiful though it is, it would be stupid to allow it to exist in the same space as herself.
There are indeed times when her pragmatism outweighs most else, should anyone forget. "We'll talk. We'll probably be getting together again to discuss everything" - one hardly needs to be a master of empathy to detect her distaste - "and if I can, I'll pull you in."
To mention of whether she and Jarod have shagged, Ashley just frowns and lifts her glass to sip from it; fortunately Jarod redirects the conversation anyway. To Lara.
"I know her," Ashley says, though she listens intently to what else he offers up, and her brows furrow. "That doesn't sound like an effect of hers." Which makes her wonder. "I hope you didn't take it. Lara's a manipulative coward, and if she did get it from a problematic source, she wouldn't tell you."
[Thomas Black] "Oh, just gay men is it, I thought you meant in general." A wry chuckle as Jarod then brings up something he knew about. He tilts his head as he interjects slightly careful with both what he says and how it was spoken "That wasn't creative, that was perfection mate, 'ave looked at the same pills, don't fret Succ doin' a bang up job an 'ad also say it wasn't proper Shazam, more....wat do you call it...to me shazam is shazam is shazam but I'd say it was from the more the static paths, is that wat you say, one of the reasons why I was interested in me bricks an mortar." There was nothing more to say on that really, he had helped her out and that was business. She owed him an IOU and as Ashley knows, IOU's make the world go round.
"There not related. I got me peepers on it." Which means he was watching it, she was making some waves in the underworld. If he knows more he is not inclined to share at the moment.
He tilts his head to Ashley "If it's a clubhouse only deal, then I doubt that pet, an from wat I gather it is a clubhouse deal. Don't think the old timer likes me much, reckon sumone stuck a bible up his hatside an forgot to take it out, new an old testament." He had chosen not to involved himself in Ashley's cabal, he had chosen his own self imposed refusal to even enter the chantry grounds so he was half to blame, but the real issue was not Ashley, or the clubhouse but the powers behind the throne "If yer goin' in there it wud be under 'is watch an we all know 'ow he will only send 'is most trusted in, 'ow the old guard will storm in there, then get even more arrogant that wat they think is isle for the rest of us is bloody gospel!" Thomas chuckled dryly then sighed, in his own mind Soloman was as bad as the Tecnocrats, because he believed just like them that everything he did was the right choice to make. He doesn't linger on it, he moves the conversation on.
"But yeah, Succ a touch shady, but that just makes it interestin'. Oh an congrats on slayin' a dragon, Seer let us know in case...well we met another one on the inside, I 'ave to say most of been a notch for ya pet, strength through conflict an all that." As he smiles at Ashley, one hand coming up to stifle a yawn.
[Jarod Nightingale] No, it probably hadn't been her own effect. He'd guessed as much at the time, but hadn't inquired about it. Had he known what he knew now, he probably would have, but he had no mastery of Time, so there wasn't any point in worrying about what he might have done differently. When Ashley asked if he'd taken the drug, Jarod fixed her with a bemused expression, as if to imply that what she'd just said was essentially the equivalent of asking an adult if they knew not to get into unmarked vans with strangers. (Then again, some adults apparently needed to be reminded of these things. See: Lara.) "Offering me ecstasy is like offering tap-water to the ocean." A beat. "Also, I'm not an idiot."
Another beat, accompanied by furrowed brows and a pensive expression. He remembered, then, where he'd felt that creative resonance before. "Though apparently I can't tell the difference between magic drugs and a healing charm from three weeks ago, so you're probably justified in thinking that I am."
He didn't like to make mistakes. It wasn't in his nature, and it irritated him. But nonetheless, it was probably something that Ashley deserved to know about, related or not.
He'd have agreed with Thomas about Solomon, had he ever actually met the man. Probably thankful that he hadn't. (For everyone's sake.)
Suddenly there was mention of dragon slaying, and Jarod looked at Ashley with amused surprise. "You killed a dragon and you forgot to mention it?"
[Ashley McGowen] There's the assurance from Thomas that it's unrelated and Ashley's brows furrow just for a moment. Thoughtful - but she seems to take the Hollow One's word for it rather than question him. A glance toward Jarod and a brief, "Sorry. I know you're not." She doesn't need to explain to him the rationale for asking in the first place, since really, it had been a bit patronizing; Ashley is content to let it fall by the wayside.
"Solomon isn't the only one with a say in who stays and who goes," Ashley says. "He doesn't like anyone much, but he has Will and he's been around for a long time. But if you want in, it can be done." Truthfully, Ashley sees Solomon as a bit problematic; he isn't as established with the local magi as she is, but he certainly has experience on his side. And a crusade. In her own way Ashley has zeal for her own beliefs, but she does not have a cause as he would define it, or as most others would.
Then, mention of the dragon. There's a slight smile at Thomas when he mentions that it's a notch - because it is - and then Jarod's amusement makes it broaden. "It was on the solstice," she says. "It wasn't just me. Solomon and Nathan and Israel helped."
A beat. "I would've regretted killing it, honestly, if it hadn't been so obviously out of control. Kind of unthinking destruction instead of just being a predator."
[Thomas Black] Thomas looks to her, he doesn't argue Ashley had a strong will, but somehow he thought Soloman would just do it with his own if push came to shove. His eyes flick to Jarod and there is jest in his eyes when he talks about not taking the drug, they flip back to Ashley when she apologises.
"I know you were with the old guard pet, still robin for you Ash, 'ope you got a tooth or scale" He pats her shoulder like he would a comrade in arms, it was strange to see from the outside the connection he felt with Ashley, a adept of the Order of Hermes. And he'd deny to anyone, and never speaks of it just says for a potter she is sound. That not to say there aways so friendly, his will battles against hers often and frequently.
He stands looking between them as he yawn and stretches as bones crack and muscles tense and show even through the tracksuit top as it ends he relaxes and places another cigarette in his lips "Now am fairly sure wen I burst in 'ere, I did intrupt sumthin', am fucked as well, this one 'as me workin' around the dickory, an not in the way yer thinkin' catman, dirty begger." Said with a smirk, all in jest though those blue eyes seem darker as he rubs around them again the black rings quite visible, some purple veins tracing the corners of his skin.
"I need to go pass out, Ash I'll pop round sum lemon this week, we can chat, Catman till next we meet squire, 'ope you find sum more robin ones." He picks up his pint to finish it off before turning to take his leave the coat pulled around him as he opens the door and embraces the cold leaving them alone again.
[Jarod Nightingale] "Hey wait..."
It wasn't an entreaty for Thomas to stay so much as a remembered afterthought. Some business he'd been meaning to have with the Hollow One. There was, of course, a brief smirk at the way the other man joked with him, but for once business took precedence over flirtation. He slid out from the booth and caught up with Thomas before he left through the door, and the two of them conversed briefly in quiet tones.
When Jarod returned, he didn't retake his seat across from Ashley, but rather slid in next to her, where Thomas had been. He looked at the Hermetic as his leg came to rest against hers, lifting the knee a little so that it brushed against her own. "So what else don't I know about you?"
(This was starting to become a habit between them.)
[Ashley McGowen] There's a look that follows Jarod and Thomas as both of the men get up and speak in hushed tones. Naturally, she's curious, because it wasn't something that was said in front of her - which implies that perhaps it's something that couldn't be said in front of her (then again, perhaps not.) Ashley almost can't help it; she's the sort who wants a thing the moment there's even a hint that she might be denied it.
She watches them a moment, then tips back the rest of her glass and glances toward her notebook. She's contemplating another drink when Jarod slides back into the booth, at which point she stops thinking about it and lets a hand rest near his knee almost without deciding to.
There's a glance in his direction, and her answer treads the line somewhere between amused and pragmatic. "Probably about as much as I don't know about you," she says.
[Jarod Nightingale] That was, frankly, an extremely appropriate response. He could have chosen to be frustrated by it, but that would have been hypocritical. Instead, he just laughed quietly.
"I'm a Scorpio, I was born in Dallas, I have two younger sisters and an older half-brother, my middle name is Ian, I have a secret obsession with Wong Kar-Wai movies and my favorite color is black. Your turn."
Many of these things were details that most people didn't know, but they were meaningless or innocuous enough not to give him pause in mentioning them now. Still, it was a gesture. It meant that he was probably more willing to be honest with her than with most. They'd been through enough to warrant a bit of honesty, frankly.
As he said this, he mimicked her action and let his hand rest on the inside of her knee. It didn't remain there for long, though, sliding further up her thigh in a slow, deliberate fashion. (Despite the fact that they were in a public place. And anyway, it was likely that no one could see this particular angle.)
[Ashley McGowen] When it actually gets a response, details that he probably hasn't offered up - or wouldn't offer up - to most of the people he knows, Ashley is perhaps a touch surprised. Pleased, though, which she doesn't bother to hide however small the tells are. It isn't as though he's offering up some deep secret, and she doesn't treat it that way, but she does take it for the gesture that it is.
"I was born on October twenty-third in Pawcatuck, which is in Rhode Island. Only child. Vanessa Novotny is my Sleeper Name," she says, offering things forth in the order in which he did, intentionally. Her memory is good enough and her thoughts process quickly enough for her to accomplish these sorts of things during conversation without needing to stop and recall or plan. "Favorite color is red." Movies, well, she can't say very much about those; the musical score in most makes them highly distracting and difficult to concentrate on.
There's another moment's amusement. "You're from Dallas?"
When his hand begins to move upward her gaze flicks down toward his hand for a moment, but she seems able to focus on the conversation. Interested, too; it's been established that she's the curious sort.
[Jarod Nightingale] "Surprised?" He grinned, and the trajectory of his hand paused about two thirds of the way to its probable destination. He'd mentioned before that Dana had been a childhood friend of his, and Dana herself possessed a Texan accent, so perhaps Ashley had wondered if this was a clue to his own origins, but he'd never come out and said so until now. He rarely did. It was not a heritage he carried proudly, nor did he really consider it home. When he spoke next, his voice slipped into flawless Dallas-speak, mimicking the tones and inflections as if, indeed, it was his natural way of speaking.
"Is it the way ah talk? Cause ah can regress, if ya like. Just figured y'all yankees might respect me more if ah didn't sound like a damn cowboy."
Of course, that wasn't the way he'd talked even when he had lived there. Like many members of the upper class who lived in major urban centers, he'd grown up with a much more muted version of what outsiders would imagine someone from a particular place to sound like. Ashley might have found his real accent slightly less incongruous with what she knew and understood of him - in particular the fact that he never actually used the word: y'all. (And if he had now and then as a kid, well... no one would ever be the wiser.)
"You didn't tell me your middle name," he pointed out, slipping back into his normal voice.
[Ashley McGowen] It's true that the upper middle class denizens of any city with a distinctive manner of speaking tend not to be the people who pick up regional inflections. It's one of the things that would mark Ashley herself for a less wealthy background - blue collar in fact - to the observant. Her own accent has never been as exaggerated as TV and movie portrayals, but it's present.
Regardless, she's apparently enough of a Yankee for the accent to register, for a split second, a flash of horror. Until she laughs - at the accuracy of it and because it's strange to hear him do it, no less. "You're probably right about that," she admits after a moment, wryly. "Where I grew up the south was like a bizarre foreign country."
Actually, one could argue that most of the rest of the nation seems like that to the upper east coast; the coasts are rather infamous for their elitism, at times.
"Joan," she says. "I picked it at Confirmation and it was one of the less offensive saint names. My mother kept throwing out a lot of the old Roman ones. Agrippina. Maxima." A wave of the hand. "I didn't pick one for my Craft Name." Though some do; Ashley associates it forever hereafter with the process of Confirmation, which she apparently detested, if her tone is anything to go by.
[Jarod Nightingale] Here yet was another fact about Ashley's life that Jarod had not know: she'd been raised Catholic. When she mentioned this, he seemed to find it intriguing. There was a shift in his expression to one of more open curiosity, though he couldn't help but chuckle when she mentioned the alternate name possibilities her mother had offered. "I don't know... Vanessa Maxima Novotny has an interesting ring to it," he teased. "I bet you were all kinds of fun in confessional, as a kid." In his head, he pictured a miniature version of Ashley, explaining very matter-of-factly to the priest how her Will was stronger than his God. Realistically, of course, she wouldn't have had the same beliefs back then, but there'd probably been at least some early traces of it.
This wasn't the kind of thing he would have joked about with Emily, who'd always seemed to hold so much reverence for faith, even back when she was still questioning it. Ashley, he was fairly certain, did not have that same perspective. Perhaps, like him, she'd never been able to find much worthy of respect in the Christian faith. Or maybe she was simply too cerebral to understand the point of it.
Anyway, Ashley wasn't Emily. Emily would never in a million years let him feel her up in public. Which... he had every intention of continuing. Leaning in, he whispered in a playfully conspiratorial tone: "Bless me father, for I have sinned. My thoughts have been impure. There's this woman, you see. I think about fucking her. I think about going down on her. I think about the way she smells, and the way she tastes, and the beautiful little sounds that she makes." His hand moved again, slipping up between her legs. "And all I want to do is make her come. Over, and over, and over again."
She'd feel him smile against the ridges of her ear before he leaned back. "What sort of penance would you suggest?"
[Ashley McGowen] He mentions confessional, and there's a faint wrinkling of her nose. "Yeah, I didn't like being told what to do then either," she says. Though really, much of her rebelliousness - particularly with God - didn't set in until after her Awakening. There might always have been a brash and impulsive quality to her but it didn't foreshadow the angry youth she was for quite some time.
Ashley is too shy to be totally at ease with what they're doing; the glance she flicks over his shoulder makes that plain enough, though it isn't upset or necessarily uncomfortable. Might be, if they went much farther, but not now. There also aren't any clever retorts, though a person more naturally given to flirtatious wit might have something handy. He can feel a corner of her mouth lift in a grin before he pulls back, something that manages to be amused, abashed and a touch affectionate at once. "You're terrible," she says.
This is becoming a habit, and she should probably question that, or at least think about it a little more: there've been more than a few instances of guilt, and they have nothing to do with a concern over impure thoughts. This among other things. She should probably think about whether this is, in fact, a bad habit. But she's not really thinking; perhaps she's just learned to take happiness in small flashes however it comes, without regard to how long it's going to last or how it's going to end. This is how she has managed her (often uncertain) friendships and her interactions with the world around her for the past year; this is what Chicago has taught her.
She smirks, says, "I think about you too," and then places a hand on his chest and nudges him back out of the booth, and it's not going to be very long at all before they wind up back at her apartment. Sometimes bad habits, if that is indeed what this is, are hard to break.
