[Jarod] Weeks had passed now since the last time that Jarod had ventured out to Bridgeport to see the Hermetic Adept. The conclusion of the Academic semester was drawing near, which meant that he had very little time to think about much of anything else, and Ashley... well, she'd been rather scarce of late. Jarod had not neglected to notice this, but he'd left her alone nonetheless. Perhaps he assumed that was what she wanted (or needed.) Had it been him in the same position, he'd have wanted that. But he was a person who greatly valued his space and personal privacy.
When Ashley called, he'd been in the midst of writing an essay for one of his graduate courses, but had seemed agreeable to a visit despite (or perhaps because of) this. He'd left Ilana alone in the flat, where she'd been curled up on the couch watching tv, and driven down to Bridgeport. Now he walked across the barren lawn of Ashley's new home and ascended the porch steps, giving a knock at the door. When she opened it, she'd find him in a pair of jeans and a navy-blue button-down. No coat any longer. The weather seemed to have officially shifted to spring.
"Hey stranger."
[Ashley] It's the longest she's gone without seeing Jarod since he first arrived back in Chicago, all told - even before. That alone might make most people suspect there is something wrong. But then again, Ashley hasn't really been seeing...just about anyone. She's made herself scarce at the chantry for some time, and it's likely that the only person who has heard anything from her is Kage. Kage, who is herself rather withdrawn from the city proceedings.
When Jarod arrives in front of her home, the place does indeed seem to have shifted to spring. The tree in her front yard is showing the first signs of new growth, little leaf tips that are stretching out and unfurling to greet the sun. The grass in the front yard looks suspiciously thick and green, for how sparse it had been when she first bought the home this winter. It is, finally, beginning to look like a home. Perhaps there's a little sad irony to be found in the fact.
She comes quickly enough when Jarod knocks. He'll find her, dark hair longer than it was (no longer shaggy and boyish - that faded months ago) and, temporarily, swept to the side out of her face. She's wearing jeans and a dark green T-shirt advertising a Boston pub. One of the only shirts to have been rescued from her old apartment, to have somehow survived almost two years of a life in which it has been in danger of being shot or stabbed through or soaked in blood or gore or, on one unfortunate occasion, human sewage. The fate many of her other shirts have met.
"Hey," she says, with a glance up at him. She holds the door open for him with a foot, allowing him inside. There's still very little furniture to speak of here, though, finally, a leather chair seems to have found its way into the main room, along with a bookshelf and a rug.
Ashley doesn't allow time for things to hang there. "I'm sorry I've been hard to get a hold of."
[Jarod] "You don't have to apologize to me. I figured you wanted to be alone. It happens." He shrugged, as if to imply that this was a normal and accepted part of life. Sometimes people kept in touch, sometimes they didn't. Either way, he had no expectations. Walking around, he gave the house his usual casual perusal, noting the addition of the leather chair. "Anyway, I've been pretty busy. Finals are coming up. You know I ran into your former apprentice on campus yesterday? I was subbing in for one of the other TAs in her Chinese class."
After a pause, he sat down on the chair, letting his gaze slide to fix more directly on Ashley's face. "How have you been?"
[Ashley] He ran into Morgan on campus. Morgan's another person Ashley used to see a lot of but hasn't lately. Morgan used to come by her old apartment all the time; after the place was invaded it's possible that Ashley just doesn't believe it safe to see her apprentice overmuch. Or invite her to a place that could be discovered, with a little searching.
She blinks at Jarod for a moment, hardly batting an eye when he takes her chair. Then she folds her arms and leans a shoulder into the wall, watching him. "I didn't know. I've been talking to Morgan kind of infrequently."
The girl has a rather busy life now, after all. And the time is passed that she is Ashley's apprentice, Ashley's responsibility. When Jarod asks how she's been her eyes flick down toward the floor for a moment, and even if he can't hear her sigh he can see her shoulders lift. "Not good," she says. "Alex and I took the statue to Lucien and things went poorly. The Order's been paying me to kind of quietly advise some of the younger members. I've mainly been doing that." Rather than speak to anyone in the city - this, of course, is implied.
[Jarod] "Well, we're all still here at least," he offered, not so much as a point of optimism as... a dry observation. He didn't know how things had gone with the Sending, but he did know that it must have turned out alright or he'd have heard something by now. No news of death or destruction. Life continued on. Some days, that was the best any of them could manage or hope for.
"I'm sorry. If I'd known, I might have gone with you." (One would note the words he'd used. Might. Not would. No, Jarod was no kind of white knight, for all that Ashley had accused him of this once.) "What happened?"
[Ashley] It's been almost two weeks since she and Alex went to the chantry to see Lucien. In spite of that, when he asks her what happened Ashley's lip still curls. It's hard to tell if it's a snarl or if it's mere disdain, but the fact that she's still angry is rather obvious. Which is in and of itself unusual; say what one will about Ashley, but she isn't the sort to spend time or energy nursing a grudge.
"Alex was there," she says. Though the Akashic's presence and his words, all told, did very little to help matters. Her tone says this; her eyes say this.
She shifts to the other foot and that twist of her mouth fades into a simple frown, a furrowing of her brows. "Solomon was there," she says, "and I'm not sure why. I think he was meeting with Lucien too, or he was there to make sure he didn't do anything while he was in the chantry...I'm not sure. But when I refused to immediately hand over the statue and said I wanted to attempt to talk to the spirit, they both accused me of childishness and threw a fit. They refused to help."
A beat and she runs a hand back through her hair. "Solomon went so far as to tell me that people would die because of me and told Lucien that they had a tendency to get killed around me. Mentioned Daiyu. Lucien started yelling and I don't even remember what he said. I got pissed and left."
[Jarod] There was a flicker of some dark expression that passed across his eyes when Ashley mentioned that Solomon had spoken of Daiyu, but whatever it was, he kept it to himself. Instead he leaned forward and settled his elbows on his thighs, watching Ashley for a few beats of silence.
"They're just children playing at being Gods. And then people wonder why I don't want anything to do with the Awakened community." He rolled his eyes and smirked coldly. "I'm amazed that some of them can manage to tie their own shoes without blowing up."
He did care though. Perhaps this much would be evident when he looked at her again, dropping the bitterness in favor of a more gentle expression. Something that seemed a little sad. "Thank you for doing it, in any case. I know you didn't want to. Maybe next time everyone's favorite Chorister can do everything himself since he seems to prefer it that way."
[Ashley] That same dark expression has lowered Ashley's eyebrows, though it's hard to tell what's beneath it. It could be simple anger at having the woman's death used as leverage, as a way to hurt her. It could even be doubt, concern that maybe there was some truth to what Solomon said. Knowing Ashley, there's a good chance it's probably both, however reluctant she might be to admit to doubts at all. She has long since been indoctrinated in the idea that there is no room in a Hermetic's life for such.
"I don't think I want much more to do with the community here," she tells him, rather bluntly. "These people can bleed for themselves." Which, perhaps, is her way of agreeing with him about Solomon.
She looks back at him then, meets his eyes, and gradually her arms lower. She starts over in his direction, sitting down on the arm of the chair. Still watching him. "I think I might go to Boston for a little while. Justine thought it might help and says she thinks she can find things for me to do out there. Kage might come with me for a little while." She mentions them, these people he doesn't know well but that he knows are dear to her; perhaps she means it as reassurance that she won't be alone. (That she won't disappear.)
Then again, maybe not.
[Jarod] [Subterfuge]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Jarod] These people can bleed for themselves.
He wasn't entirely able to hide the little curl of disgust that touched his lip when she said this, glancing away so that his eyes fell to the floor for a moment. They were both bitter people, he and Ashley. They were not heroes. They were only human beings.
"Perhaps it will make them less ignorant," he offered quietly. "Though I suspect not."
Ashley sat down on the arm of the chair. Perhaps some part of him sensed instinctively what she was about to say, because he didn't look up at her. Instead he simply allowed her presence in his space, aware of the warmth and the pulse of her pattern (hungry and thriving.) Then she said that she was going to Boston, and he didn't react. After a few moments he finally did look up at her, thoughtfully, and gave a small nod. "Probably a good idea. Everyone needs a change of location now and then."
And though she'd meant to imply that the situation was only temporary, his voice seemed to carry a kind of finality to it. As if he'd already accepted the fact that he might never see her again. Not an assumption, no. But he understood how these things went. Everyone had their own life to live. Paths converged and then diverged at seemingly random points.
[Ashley] There are a lot of things Ashley could say to him. Maybe all of them occur to her then, and she sorts through for what's truth and what, at the same time, is the thing she wishes to say. There's finality in his voice and she isn't deaf to it, even though she might be to a lot of things, to many of the meanings hidden behind what other people say. And she just looks at him for a moment. As though she's already accepted that when (if) she returns from the place that will always be Home he might have already moved on.
As though she's already accepted that she might not be returning at all.
She doesn't touch him, but she wants to, and it's there in the way that her fingers twitch and then still. What she says is, "You're one of the only things here that I'm going to miss." And her hands come to rest on the top of her thigh, cross over each other and clasp for a moment or two.
[Jarod] They might have talked more. Might have made the most of the small time they still had together. Might have done any number of things. And there were countless memories between them now - images and echoes of sensation that might easily be called to mind (fragments of a relationship.) Ashley wanted to touch him. She said that he was one of the only things here that she would miss. Jarod looked at her and, after a moment of hesitation, reached out to take her face in his hand and draw her down into a kiss. If she allowed it, they would remain like that for a long moment, and today he did not kiss her with sensual promises and barely restrained hunger. There was only affection. And goodbye.
Then he stood up and smoothed his shirt down, turning to look at her for a long moment. "Well, you know where to find me." A soft smile. "Good luck in Boston."
Goodbye.
And without another word, he turned and walked away. Because this was the way that he preferred to end things. Quickly, and cleanly. Without looking back.
[Ashley] There's very little tying her to Chicago, at this point. Kage, of course - though Kage will go with her, where she goes. They're cabalmates now (secret handshake and everything.) Whatever loyalty she might still feel to the node that slumbers beneath the white fence house and the blood that's been shed for it. But the Sleeper life that brought her here is gone, the other friendships she's made either departed or cast away.
He doesn't need to say the word and neither does she. They both know what it is, the kiss and the lingering touch and the slow, almost pained exhale when she opens her eyes and draws away. There aren't any tears today.
She doesn't say she'll find him when she comes back, even though she will. Even though he's probably the first person she'll seek out. That sounds too much like a promise. "Stay safe," she tells him, because that is the one thing one can reasonably rely on Jarod to do.
He turns. He leaves. She doesn't stop him. But maybe in a little while when she's watching Chicago's skyline recede, she will glance back over her shoulder. Just once.
