symposium! [attn: margot/ned/nicholas/pen]

[Kenna]

Knock-knock-knock

Knuckles on the door announced the arrival of guests that Margot and Ned both seemed anxious (albeit in their own ways) to meet.  Margot glanced quick and brief to the other two in the kitchen before announcing "I've got it" and exiting one room and moving through others to reach the front door.

So, it wasn't a hollered 'come in' to invite the pair in, but rather the sound of the latch turning-twisting-clicking and the door pulling open from the inside.  It wasn't The Doc that answered the door, but what must have been one of his apprentices instead.

Margot appeared as a very petite young lady, perhaps five feet even at best (but taller tonight with those heels!  not by much but you take what you can get), with a young face and wide, inquisitive eyes.  She had nut-brown hair that was curled and styled and hovered neatly in between her jaw and shoulder lines.  A small silver hoop was pierced through her right nostril, and her outfit was appropriate for interviews, church sermons, and things of that nature.

She'd started with a smile and greeting soon as the door was open.  "Hello!"


Whatever manners she'd learned through childhood when it came to opening doors and letting guests in were forgotten in the initial impression of the pair.  Maybe it was because she'd forgotten exactly what their names were (was planning on using Mr. and Mrs. Hyde but that sounds too proper, but she didn't quite know if first name basis was kosher or not, oh social woes!).  More truthfully, though, it was the impression that the pair of them made.  Specifically, the impression that Pen made.  Margot was staring at her, impressed, when she stepped back and pulled the door open along with her to invite them both in.

Where should the scotch go?  Margot blinked and nodded her head toward the interior of the house.  "Ahhh, The Doc and Ned are in the kitchen.  Scotch probably goes there."

Then: "Uhh, can I take your coats?"

[jamie]

Were he not possessing some semblance of attention to Time he might not have given half a damn about what he was wearing when he had guests over but then again there is always the art and appeal of defying expectations. The kids have already seen him disheveled once recently. If he wanted to come to the door in a cardigan and old-man slippers he would have.

Or maybe he just forgot what day it was and had to wear a suit anyway. Scientists are always trying to impress each other after all. Industry secret.

The layout of the house is not such that one who is stood in the kitchen can see what is happening at the front door. One has to walk past the stairwell and through the dining room in order to reach the kitchen. But they can hear each other as echoes. The low hum of an impression of voices.

Pen's voice he recognizes.

To Ned he says, as an aside, "That is who I thought it was. Speaking to a war mage may actually do your friend some good."

With that he goes back to reassembling the bags of foodstuff dragged out of the refrigerator. Dinner isn't going to cook itself.

Or will it.

[Quither]

"...Uhhh...War-mage? Is that a thing?"

Ned offers, quieting to a conspiratorial whisper when Margot engages the pair at the door, so as not to be overheard. He wasn't sure if it would be polite or disrespectful or...well this is new territory afterall. There are probably rules or rituals or pentagrams that need drawing to ensure the right amount of Autma was being foreshadowed or some such-

"...Also, do I have to tell them anything about myself? Rather is it required?" Oh Mentor, my Mentor.

[Andrew]

It is not Sepulveda who answers the door, but rather a small young woman, who is easily surmised to be one of the apprentices the Doctor mentioned would be present. Margot is staring; specifically, Margot is staring at Pen. Nick takes this in with some amusement. He is used to Pen being the one that people stare at, to being the yin to her yang, so to speak - he is content to be so, even.

She offers to take his coat, so he extends his arm to her slightly so that she can take it from him. "Thank you." He doesn't yet move into the kitchen to bring the Scotch to the owner of the house, and instead spends a few seconds (perhaps it seems like longer than that, to the apprentice) studying Margot.

Perhaps he senses that she has little frame of reference for how this interaction should go. Perhaps he is also aware of how people from his Tradition are generally perceived, and this is why his voice is kind. "I'm Nick," he says, and swaps the bottle of Scotch to his other hand so he can offer her a handshake. He leaves space for Pen to introduce herself as well. Then, "Dr. Sepulveda mentioned his apprentices would be here, but he didn't mention your name."

[Kenna]

Margot was in the act of accepting Nick's coat when he gave a kindly introduction for himself and specifically handed off Scotch into a different hand so he could get a handshake from her.  She hastily nabbed up Pen's coat as well (were it offered) before draping them both over her left arm and returning the gesture by seizing Nick's hand to shake.  Her own hand was small, like the rest of her, with a warm palm and firm grip (like somebody who thought you were supposed to have a firm grip if you were going to be impressive yourself).

"I'm Margot," she said.  "It's nice to meet you both."

She looked harmless, small and young and wide-eyed as she was, and that was what made the impact of her resonance all the stranger.  It left the impression of something cloying left to rot in a cellar, bloodied walls and carnage left over after great violence.  Like the ER without the morphine, Ned once described it.  You never would have guessed upon first sight that her Magick was so closely tied to war and violence.

[jamie]

The two of them are going to slice a permanent frown between their mentor's brows at the rate they're going. His hair and beard are already going gray in places. It would be easy enough to blame the silver on Margot's adventures last month but let's be real here it isn't as if he's the youngest person in the room.

While Margot takes coats and directs the Scotch to the appropriate place Sepúlveda waves Ned out of the way of the cabinet in front of which he's currently standing and digs around for serving dishes. They are metal and rigged with conduits and don't look like serving dishes he or anyone else could buy at a store.

"The only thing I require from you," he says as he upends the meat into one dish and the vegetable-type matter into another, "is that you chill. You're having dinner, man, not defending your dissertation in front of a committee."

The stove has likewise been rigged although its rigging is subtler than the serving dishes. The food is totally ready to go he just doesn't want to have to pay attention to time and temperature. So the stove transmutes the matter inside of it to its optimum state of doneness and calls it a day.

"Come on." The machine beeps and he ignores it. Puts a hand on Ned's elbow and steers him out of the kitchen. "Let's go 'mingle.'"

---
Sepúlveda @ 2:25PM
[forces/matter 2: BETTER COOKING THROUGH SCIENCE. base diff 5, -1 diff for practiced rote. thanks oven you're the real MVP here.]
Roll: 3 d10 TN4 (3, 6, 9) ( success x 2 )

Sepúlveda @ 2:25PM
[extending it for shits and giggles]
Roll: 3 d10 TN5 (7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Denver @ 2:26PM
Speak "Dedicated Dicing Den" and enter, can i get a.

Sepúlveda @ 2:26PM
[I would get a witness but I'm too lazy to lie about this shit]

Sepúlveda @ 2:26PM
[Oh hey look at that]

can i get a @ 2:26PM
WITNESS!

[tithe]

I'm Nick.

As Pen is slipping the silver buttons through the button-holes on her royal blue coat, Nicholas is kind and Margot is polite. Margot's resonance feels like an abattoir, a battle-field. Pen's eyes are the color of a lake reflected on a sword or a sword reflected in a lake: they are yes quite thoughtful, but the spark's still in them: ready warmth, even if it is reserved. Some Traditions and some Traditionalists are very casual, and Pen goes by 'Pen' just one syllable out of the many, but her sense of propriety in context of this casual affair between mages means that in the space Nick gives her to introduce herself what she says is not 'Pen' but:

"Penelope Sylvia Mercury Mars, bani Flambeau ordo Hermes."

And she says it with dash, baby, (a swashbuckler's quiet smile), with fucking grace, as if it is the most natural follow-up to Nick that could ever there be, as inhale is to exhale.

"I hope you'll call me Pen."

Pen relinquishes her coat when Margot reaches for it. Expressive nod of thanks rather than words because after all Nicholas is speaking.

I'm Margot. It's nice to meet you both.

The kitchen boys are possibly deciding to come out and mingle now, and Pen flashes a half-smile which seems to echo Margo's sentiment. Nice to meet you. "Have you been Andres's apprentice long, Margot?"

--

ooc: not at home / with computer for the next couple days so please feel free to skip as long as it seems natural! also sorry for hurriedness

[Andrew]

Pen offers her full name to complement his single syllable, all grace and poise. Nick: he's from a Tradition notorious for magi who steep themselves in Death so often that they forget that for most people, death is fucking scary, and he's from a profession where many of his clients couldn't recall his last name if they tried. He has not forgotten, and there is little he does without intention: he chooses what he chooses because it makes him approachable.

Margot says she's pleased to meet them, and there is something bloody, visceral, about the wide-eyed girl who has just greeted them and taken their coats. Awakening: it leaves its marks on people. He knows very little about either, and yet something in him is not surprised that she has found Sepulveda. He absorbs this, looks between Pen and Margot as Pen asks Margot about herself, and sidesteps to peer around into the kitchen.

Perhaps he catches Sepulveda's eye as he and Ned are coming out to 'mingle,' at which point he waves and extends the bottle of Scotch toward him. It's casual, without ceremony and without expectation. "Housewarming," he says, and then, "Good to see you, Andres," warm: as if they are old friends.

[Quither]

Ned frowns. Per usual, when the Doc tells him to 'chill' and then takes his arm and swerves him boldly into the company of their present...well, company. He seems a bit bewildered (probably because the Doc, mentor, teacher and ancient Disciple that he is, just used a word like 'chill') when they finally emerge into the landscape of 'sociable' and it leaves Ned with little to do but clutch his glass of wine and take turns bouncing eyes from Pen to Nick, without really focusing on either.

If he's approached with eyes, feet or words, he offers a nod of confirmation and a lip-pressed smile that is at once courteous as well as awkward. A hand rises to ensure his hair is still somewhat tamed every so often (habit).

For the most part though, Ned is not much of a mingler. A timorous sip of wine and a hand in his jeans pockets. That was Ned. Yep.

[jamie]

"Nicholas!"

He isn't drunk but as effusive as he is and as abusive as he has been towards alcohol in the past with... well... everyone present to varying degrees no one would blame anyone if they thought he was. Then again he is a short-statured Mexican-American from the Society of Ether. 'Drunk' may not enter into the equation.

Either way he greets the Chakravat warm though they've only met once before. Grips him by both elbows and kisses him on both cheeks as is customary in his culture and asks how he is. Genuine question for the cursory nature of it and then he turns to Pen.

Pen and the Doc are equally powerful. His resonance creates a sense of dread. Hers is one of awe.

When Sepúlveda has finished greeting Nicholas he turns to Pen and nothing changes in his demeanor or disposition. Same greeting. Gripping of the elbows room left for her to do the same a kiss to each cheek and when he pulls back again he says, "Hello, Penelope."

That done he releases Pen and turns to his apprentices.

"Penelope, Nicholas, meet Margot and Ned. My interns." Though his green eyes are full of good humor he doesn't hold the kids' gazes like to let them in on the joke. Maybe it isn't a joke. The fuck else is he supposed to call them. "Margot, Ned, Nicholas Hyde bani Chakravanti and Penelope Mars, Hermes bani Flambeau."

Oh hey. Scotch. He hoists it now that it's in his possession.

"Shall we?"

Back into the kitchen. It's large enough for everyone to mingle without worrying about being in the way.

"Forgive me, Penelope and Nicholas, but I am not on the Facebook, I did not realize you two had wed until recently. Congratulations are in order, yes?"