[Jarod Nightingale] Winter this year had been unseasonably warm in the Midwest, and today certainly wasn't the first to receive a bout of freezing rain, but it never really stopped feeling a bit strange. February was supposed to be bone-chilling and frozen, not wet. This was the sort of climate one might expect closer to the end of March than the beginning. Unsurprisingly, most people were indoors. One of those people was Chicago's lone Verbena, who'd recently wandered into one of the more upscale coffee houses in Lake View in an attempt to avoid the rain while he waited (somewhat impatiently) for his daughter and her best friend to get out of the movie they were watching.
After ordering a cup of Earl Gray, he found a table for himself near the window and snatched up a copy of the Sun Times. He folded his coat neatly over the back of one of the other chairs and sat down, opening the paper up to an article on the recent labor protests in Madison.
It was Sunday, and as such his attire was on the casual end of the spectrum (much different than it had been when Elizabeth had first seen him,) but it was an expensive sort of casual, complete with designer jeans that hadn't been released to the general public yet and a burgundy-colored long-sleeved T that had cost way more than any simple cotton shirt ever had a right to. (One could make the argument that both of these things, no matter how nicely they fit him, were possibly a waste of money.)
[Ellizabeth Zhao] She has been out for most of the day, out in another part of the city. Elizabeth is not an individual who is well-suited to sitting idly. Meditation, learning...that is one thing. But meditation for its own purposes has its limits, and instead of doing such and getting lost in her own thoughts--no matter which lifetime of thoughts--she likes to go out and do good.
From the look of her when she walks in, that good today involved dirt. Her clothes are smudged with it, though her hands and face have been washed clean. She is dressed in cargo pants that allow freedom of movement and a tank top with a windbreaker over it. She has a small sidebag with her as well, not overly bulky at the moment and more or less empty. She is on her way back and has just stopped in to pick up some tea.
As she does, she looks over and notices Jarod. She remembers him, of course, from their previous meeting. She raises a hand to him in greeting and gestures that she will be over as soon as she gets her tea, which she quickly orders.
[Jarod Nightingale] [Awareness]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Ellizabeth Zhao] [[Oh yeah, that! Awaaaaaaare]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Jarod Nightingale] He'd been leaning forward with one arm on the table, head bent as his eyes skimmed over the words in front of him. Had it not been for his other senses, Elizabeth wouldn't have registered as anything more than a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision and the sound of a new customer coming in through the door. That wasn't all she was though, and her supernatural imprint touched him before she even stepped inside the coffee shop. The Akashic's resonance was more subtle than some (not Ashley's powerful Hunger or Nico's Flashiness) but... still quite distinctly her own.
And he seldom forgot a person's resonance. His response to her entrance was delayed as he finished the paragraph he'd been reading, but once that was settled he looked up in time to catch her gesture of greeting. There was a smile, attractive and polite, and then a brief once-over with his eyes as he took in her present state, eyebrows arching slightly with amusement.
He moved his coat to the back of his own chair so that she could have her choice of where to sit. (And also so that she wouldn't get any dirt on it.)
[Ellizabeth Zhao] She comes over when she has her tea, a variety of green from the looks of it, and she gives Jarod her typical little partial bow of greeting, along with a smile.
"Jarod. It is nice to see you. How are you?" She moves to sit opposite him, settling down in the spot.
[Jarod Nightingale] "Wishing I was somewhere that served a higher quality variety of tea," he mused, "but otherwise, fine. How are you? You look like you've been... busy." He eyed her clothes again with an expression that landed somewhere between curiosity and trepidation, but for all that he didn't seem unhappy to see her. All things considered, there were many people in Chicago whose company was less pleasant than Elizabeth's.
After a moment, one of the corners of his mouth quirked upwards. "Dirt doesn't actually look that bad on you."
[Ellizabeth Zhao] She smiles as he refers to the dirt on her. It's a warm smile, a little reserved. That's just the way she is. She maintains her reserve in all but rare situations. For example, when she is flush with the thoughts of her other lives, or when she has just been sprayed with blood and brains.
Yes, she's already been initiated by blood. She came to understand that happens quickly here.
"I was helping a small community garden in Chinatown do some planting. It is good work. I enjoy being able to get out there and work with my hands, help life grow even in choked-off parts of the city. There is something...very rewarding about it."
A slight shrug. "And you? How have you been?"
[Jarod Nightingale] Many Verbena held a kind of reverence for the Earth's natural cycles (one that excluded planting seeds in the middle of winter,) but if Jarod was one of those people, he didn't display that quality now. There were situations where he might have... but a community garden wasn't one of them. Instead he merely nodded, remembering the rooftop greenhouse where he'd met with a friend once. (Well, not really a friend, per se.) The layout of Chinatown was fairly well-known to him by now.
"I've been working, mostly. I had a job in New York for a week, and I've been busy with classes since I came back." Given his age, he might very well have been talking about either teaching or being a student, so after a pause he elaborated. "I'm in a graduate program at Northwestern. And I teach a class in Mandarin."
[Ellizabeth Zhao] That draws a smile from her. Mandarin is not so common of a language that she hears of people who know it daily, even as an Akashic who is fairly clued into the Asian subculture. To know someone teaching it pleases her.
"Oh...how nice. Is your graduate program specifically in linguistics, or something else?"
[Jarod Nightingale] Jarod wasn't always the most forthcoming person in the world. In fact, he could be infuriatingly cryptic when he had a mind to be, but these kinds of questions didn't bother him. His career and education weren't secrets, and they weren't personal enough for him to want to keep them contained.
"My Bachelor's degree was in Modern Languages, but my Master's and PhD are in Communication Studies. More specifically, Rhetoric and Public Culture. Basically, I study how people use communication on a cultural level."
People were sometimes surprised by his level of interest and involvement in Academia, mostly because he projected an image that was anything but Academic (not unintelligent certainly, but Jarod was a fashion model who spent a significant portion of his time trying to get laid [and usually succeeding] and otherwise generally behaving like every other attracive, wealthy playboy out there) and partly because he very seldom talked about it with anyone other than Ashley or Emily.
He took a sip of his tea before continuing. "What about you? Does anything occupy your time besides gardening and general humanitarianism?" There was a brief smile at that.
[Ellizabeth Zhao] She seems genuinely interested in what he has to say. A little nod, and a smile at his chosen path of study. "That sounds like a truly interesting path of study. I know well how vastly cultural differences can affect the way they communicate."
When he asks about her, she smiles a bit. "I have been doing a bit of looking into an interesting situation. A man who turned into bird and flew off...although it did not work a second time, it would seem. I hope to have information to share with others soon. Besides this, I have been staying with Emily. It seems safer, after Miss McGowan and Miss Quincannon were...forced to move." She doesn't know if Jarod is aware of it, and she leaves it at that for now. He can ask more if he is unaware, of course...her demeanor says that much.
[Jarod Nightingale] Elizabeth... mentioned a man turning into a bird. Which to any ordinary person might stick out a bit in a casual conversation. But... they weren't ordinary people. Jarod merely tilted his head to one side and fixed her with an expression of reserved curiosity that very closely resembled something an actual feline might do. He might have asked her more about this, had she not then mentioned in the same breath the names of both Emily and Ashley.
"Ah, you're staying with Emily?" He hadn't known that (and well... why would he?) Of course, he didn't explain why he seemed to find that interesting. He paused to consider this, drinking more of his tea. His eyes looked a little distant for a moment. "It probably is safer there, if you're comparing it to the chantry."
He didn't mention anything about Ashley or Molly one way or the other.
"I don't remember if you mentioned before... which faction are you with among the Akashics?"
[Ellizabeth Zhao] She gives an acceding nod. "I may not have. I am a member of the Kannagara." Which, of course, would explain her devotion to asceticism. Her association with the sect, in truth, began years before Elizabeth was born. It was that very line of fate, threaded through her lives, that brought her to them initially.
"And I am," she says, in relation to the question about Emily. "We have not had opportunity to speak much, but she has been most gracious in providing with a place to rest." Perhaps it was not a permanent arrangement. She certainly didn't speak as if they were 'roommates,' so to speak. But she slept there, and that was more hospitality that she could have hoped for.
[Jarod Nightingale] "That sounds like Emily," he mentioned in a tone that was carefully free of inflection. Leaning back in his chair, he eyed Elizabeth shrewdly for a moment, as if trying to make a determination about her character.
"You're a monk, then." It was a statement, not a question. "Have you always been one, or is this a new development?"
[Ellizabeth Zhao] "Since I Awakened." She sips at her tea. He's right...it is hardly the best tea in the city, and Elizabeth is a discerning tea drinker. Still, it suffices. "Although in truth, it goes further back than that. One of my past incarnations, Cheng Li, was also a member of the Kannagara, a tao-shih. It was one of his students who, in turn, helped me to Awaken and initiated me into Tradition and sect."
She has a deep fondness when she speaks of this student, and indeed there is a sort of duality to it. The pride of a teacher for a student who excelled, and the admiration and respect of a student for a teacher from whom she learned nearly everything that she knows of the Akashayana Sangha. It is probably strange to hear both in the same voice, but for the Asian American woman, it is quite natural and she would not know how to be any other way. The Wheel turns, indeed.
[Jarod Nightingale] He'd said once that he believed people only had one chance at life. Elizabeth had been there when he'd spoken it. But he'd never really elaborated on this - never explained how he rationalized that belief with people like her who had such rich and vivid memories of lives that were not their own. However he did so, he didn't appear to disbelieve her now as she spoke about Cheng Li, and if anything he listened with polite attentiveness.
What he asked her next though... might not be quite what one would expect.
"So then... you're a virgin." He may not be correct in that assumption, and there was a slight questioning cant of his head when he said it, as if half-expecting to be proven wrong. Not all Kannagara were hard-line ascetics. Some were more moderate. "And... so was your last incarnation, as you put it." He smiled a bit, seemingly amused. "I rather hope for your sake that you have at least a few non-ascetics in your past."
[Ellizabeth Zhao] She smiles at the question. Oddly (or perhaps not), she has been asked similar questions before. In this city, nonethelelss. So she takes it with an accepting nod.
"Truth to tell, I am, in fact. Cheng Li was not...he lived a long time before he found asceticism. And I have others, to be sure. A young man who lived here in Chicago in the middle of the twentieth century, and some others." She pauses and then leans in, as if to tell a secret. "I do not generally attempt to access those memories though." She smiles, indicating the humor.
[Jarod Nightingale] "That's a shame," he responded, and his tone seemed for a moment to be genuinely disappointed on her behalf. "You should try it some time. The only way to learn is to live, and sex... is one of the most transcendent experiences one can have. If you do it right."
He didn't try to make his argument using the language of his Tradition. Akashics weren't known to put much respect into the notion of instinct over logic, though he had spoken of it to a few people on previous occasions (Ashley, most notably. Especially notable because he'd actually won her over.)
Maybe he had more to say, but unfortunately he wouldn't get the chance, because at that moment a faint vibration sounded in the pocket of his coat, and he quickly answered it, pulling the smartphone out and putting it to his ear. "Hey 'Lana. Is the movie done?" There was a pause as whoever was on the other end of the line answered him. "Alright, I'll be right there. Wait for me inside." There was a slight breath of exasperation, then "You know Ellen wants him home by five..." he glanced at Elizabeth, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Look, we can talk about it when I get there. See you in a few minutes."
When he hung up the call, he pushed back his chair and stood up. "Sorry about that. I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere. It was lovely seeing you again."
[Ellizabeth Zhao] She smiles a little bit, and is ready to respond. She has had people debate this topic with her before. But then he gets a phone call, and he has to go. She nods.
"And you as well, Jarod. Have a good day."
[Jarod Nightingale] He had to go, so she kept her thoughts on the matter to herself. They should have to continue the debate another time, and perhaps they would. The Verbena offered the Akashic a smile, and there was something playfully wry about it (as if he thought that he knew something she didn't - and well, they all did, really. Every person had their own specific kind of wisdom.)
Then he slid his arms into his coat and left, making his way down the sidewalk to the parking lot around back. Moments later a black M3 coupe pulled around the corner and disappeared.
