At the Chantry [attn: Grace, Shoshannah, Sera, Hawksley, Sid]

[mnemosyne]

"Thank god they're gone," says Sera, once Hawksley has - yes - stripped off his damned shirt, tossed it over his shoulder, and followed Justin from the room. The Cultist (who returned Justin's ...seriously? glad with a ridiculously smug grin) slides Hawksley's aviators aside now that her groceries, such as they are, are unpacked and littering the counter, and hoists herself up onto the counter in the precise spot he just occupied, all fiddlingly annoying and in-the-way. She is rather shorter but her legs swing just the same and she turns to Shoshannah and Grace then, see, all fucking conspiratorial. "We can totally talk about them now - "

Except: the flash of her teeth, the sudden curl of her mouth.

"Wait, actually, we are going to pass the fucking Bechdel test and talk about Nothing to Do with Them. How about magic?

"Did you feel that, Grace - " eyes on the apprentice, slide to the creepy Dreamspeaker a moment later. "Justin healed himself. There at the sink. That flare in the air, that was his Work. I don't know how he does it, I don't know all that much about Verbena practice but yeah - see, it's different for all of us. Did we talk about that?

"Different for Shoshannah than it is for Pan or me or you. Shit, you know Shoshannah I have no idea even what your Tradition is? Like for the longest time I thought you were Pan's apprentice. Seriously."