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

[CourtCat]

This? This is an interesting thing for Shoshannah, if by interesting one means 'embarrassing as hell' and also 'really more than a bit irritating' in addition to 'confusing'. For a girl who's so abrasive and angry feeling to begin with, it only makes things worse - and the problem is only slightly alleviated when shirtless!Justin (and now shirtless!Hawksley) leave the room.

"Give me your hipster-vintage bar toys. I do the aesthetics." It's sullen, grouchy, a bit sneer-y, and par for the course as far as Sera knows the girl - she hadn't been all that different the night in the bar, when Padre had ordered her home. And never mind that she can't quite look at Sera, either, making the tough act a bit more obviously a lie. In reality, Shoshannah is supremely uncomfortable and refuses to acknowledge it. And Grace? It's quite possible that in the midst of all this, Shoshannah's forgotten that she asked her a question. And of course the bar toys are put where Shoshannah wants them, and of course they're placed so well that she could be staging the house for sale. She's got a great eye, really, though no one ever expects it of her.

This gives her time to center a bit, to more firmly affix the I Don't Give a Shit attitude she wears so well so much of the time. "Dreamspeaker. And Initiate, thanks. I'm not really just a kid." Despite the common perception goes unsaid, naturally - it's not needed. So bland, so removed that tone even as everything about her prickles and pokes. She's a difficult one to get a bead on, is Shoshannah, and her trust issues? They're about a mile high.

-----
And since we know what everyone else is wearing, and to mark the difference(s) between Shoshannah and Sera still more clearly, here's this - a completely superfluous description of the girl's looks.

The Dreamspeaker is tall for a woman at a long and lean five foot nine inches, and has the model build to go with her model height although it's not quite so waify if one gathers the courage to actually touch her. It's all glamour, that, though she certainly is tall and thin. Her hair is black, or as close thereto as hair gets, and pulled back into a loose, somewhat messy ponytail in deference to the manual labor she'd been doing and the wind that occasionally blows it into her eyes if she doesn't restrain it. Underneath the pale rarely-sees-sun shade of her skin is an olive tone that comes more and more to the fore as she spends time outside working with Justin, playing with spirits, doing . . . whatever it is Shoshannah does when no one's looking. Her eyes are bright, clear, piercingflayingscarringscourging blue. Her ears are pierced, once each, and the holes there are filled with simple gold studs.

The clothes are simple today, but still of remarkably good quality given what people (think they) know about her - shorts bare her long legs, ankle height work boots adorn her feet, and a well made cotton tank top covers (most of) her torso, though it leaves a sliver of belly, hip and back bare. It's modest, really, but not particularly conservative - if she weren't everyone's nightmare, Shoshannah might be someone's dream. Goodness knows she's good looking enough.

==========
Rolls!

CourtCat @ 1:08PM
Doot doot, rolling and witnessing the hell out of Sera's empathy dice for Liz!
Roll: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 2, 3, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 3 ) VALID
CourtCat @ 1:11PM
Deet deet, fuck yes Shoshannah's contesting. Manip + Sub
Roll: 3 d10 TN6 (7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP] VALID
CourtCat @ 1:11PM
Can I get an AMEN
niko @ 1:11PM
i see!
niko @ 1:11PM
AMEN

Edited because apparently I didn't get the roll for Liz the first time.
And edited again because description!

[FadedNoel]

[Dang, you guys, busting out all of the posts while I am at work! ]

Shoshannah proudly bore her bruises, and Grace tried hard to care about the fence and the effort put into it, though her mind wandered to other places. Good fences make good neighbors, perhaps, but something there is that doesn't love a wall (the poem went) that wants it down. Walls, fences, firewalls... She filed away an idea there, the germ of a concept. There was a story there, somewhere.

When she came back to reality, the younger woman was talking about knowledge being experiential -- one has to do to learn. Perhaps, yes. Or, you can teach a computer how to do it for you, and then go take a long nap.

Despite the mental wandering, Grace was actually paying attention to the words, if not the deeper content, and when Shoshannah got to the real interesting bit, the gears clicked into place. "Wards? What are wards?" she asked, knowing the word 'ward' but not its context. "And, yeah... I'm working on something, but it's really embarrassing. I mean, I know what good code looks like, and this is not it. Knowledge is experiential, right? Well, I'm learning a lot about how to hack things together in a really sh... uh... crappy way."

She leaned in and fake-whispered to the girl, "I'm really new." A half-smile lit one side of her face, and she continued, "I'm actually here to check out the library, so I won't embarrass myself much more, you know? But as for stuff to work on here, oh... Well, I suppose that depends on what needs doing? A local network wouldn't be bad, I don't know what you guys have though --"

Serafine's entrance tore off the end of Grace's little spiel in grandiose fashion, the woman sweeping in with her bags of 'stuff' and her presence, and a 'rock on' that made Grace's face light up even more. These little connections, drawing down the walls, these people with the mischief of spring in them.

Hawksley was next, and Grace imagined the two must go everywhere together, so alike. The house didn't seem too big anymore, filled with people and activity and a sudden surge of primal force that drew her attentions back to the man cleaning up at the sink. Huh.

And then, there were two half-naked men in the room, one with no real reason to be... "Hmm, I guess this means we do all need to take our shirts off... Or put on parkas. I guess it depends on whether you're after equality or balance."

Thankfully, there was no need for that. They left, presumably to discuss... what? Half-naked guy things? But Serafine was talking interesting again. "He healed himself? That's incredible... I did feel that, I was wondering," she said, her mind again in-gear. Magic? Well, Grace didn't think of it like that really. But a better word for it she couldn't muster. Breaking down reality's barriers (for she really is the thing that doesn't love a wall, shifting the stones out of her way), digging into the vulnerabilities, until...

Verbena? Pan? Dreamspeaker? Initiate? This is why she needed a fucking book. Hell, just a dictionary for this new jargon would be fine.

[CourtCat]

"Verbena and Dreamspeaker are Traditions - like the Cult of Ecstacy," here, there's a nod at Sera though really she's only guessing - that one meeting had been months ago, and goodness only knows if she'd found out then. She certainly doesn't remember. "Groups of Awakened that share a similar worldview, though it's not a hive mind or anything. Pan - I usually call him Padre - is a person. He's in Mexico now, but has a church in Federal, in the city. And Initiate and Apprentice are ranks. They're pretty general, and mostly we don't make a big deal of them unless it's a formal occasion that calls for it, but they are what they are."

She shrugs and simply looks at Sera for a moment, sitting on the counter surrounded by things she expects other people will take care of - and Shoshannah probably will be the one who does, because despite her love for fine things and her high quality clothes, she has no aversion to doing what needs to be done. This one eighteen year old girl has more work ethic in her little finger than most people do in their entire bodies, in lifetimes. Soon (not soon enough) her eyes flick back to Grace, then wander away.

"You wanted to see the library - I can take you, if you want."

[mnemosyne]

"Yeah, you know what?" This to the sullen, grouchy, teenaged demand that Shoshannah be allowed to take and stage the bartools somewhere in the house. For reasons of aesthetics. "My hipster-vintage bar toys are actually tools of ritual, and not tchotchkes. See," and this with a quicksilver grin to Grace, "some of us think that the ability to make a decent cocktail and or drink cheap tequila straight from the bottle is exactly what separates us from the unenlightened masses," then back to Shoshannah, "so: the barware is going on or in the bar if there's a fucking bar.

"Otherwise, they're staying in the kitchen by the cabinet that is designated for the booze until we secure a proper bar."

And still focused on Shoshannah, returning that look with another bemused and slightly wider grin than even Grace received, full of wry apology, "I meant apprentice in the general-language sense rather than the rank-sense. His student."

Her attention sweeps back to Grace as Shoshannah offers a litany of tradition names, bullet points about their purpose, guesses at her own, and explains who the hell Pan is. And Sera, oh her own eyes are completely steady on Grace's, even if the brand new mage is looking at Shoshannah and trying to absorb all of this.

"Hawksley was right," a bit dreamy, to Grace, when Shoshannah's explanations end. "You have fucking incredible eyes. Did you get any of that?" Compassion and humor in that too. And if Grace seems inclined to wander off toward the library with Shoshannah's offer, Sera will follow.

[FadedNoel]

Confusion could be a word written on Grace's forehead, and apparently Sera had read it. The information headed her way was like a gloss over something more substantial, much like Sera must have felt when Grace had gone over her own newly-acquired worldview -- lost in words that barely made sense, from a culture that wasn't familiar.

Confusion was replaced by incredulity at Sera's pronouncement that both she and Hawksley agreed on the status of 'fucking incredible eyes'.

"Do what now?" the question was posed essentially to the both of them, Grace's incredible eyes flitting between the two to prove the point.

Ahh yes... library. And at that word from Shoshanna, the offhand mention of food, and lasagna in the fridge was completely forgotten. Time to answer some questions.

"Yeah, I think I need a beginner's book... Double You Tee Eff 101?"

[mnemosyne]

Sera hops down off the counter with an easy movement. She's nowhere close to Shoshannah's willowy height, and even if she oh-so-often works to create that pretense, to take up that much more space in the world than the gods or whomever thought she should perhaps be granted, see: she moves with ease. Loves that body she has anyway and all the things it can feel and be and do.

"Most of those terms Shoshannah was throwing out, they're like religions, right? See, it's like, all the religions in the world, what if they were all correct. All internally and specifically correct, at least for their adherents. Buddists and Weirdoists and Catholics and what-the-fuck-all all got their prayers or spells or lives answered and framed and judged and defined under their specific set of beliefs.

"That's more or less what it's like for us. I mean, the way I work is nothing like the way Justin works, or Shoshannah, or you. And you can sort of make it up as you go along, right? Just push yourself, your frame, your worldview until it all comes more sharply into focus -

" - but when you find someone who shares your world view. Hell, then you can sort of draft off their Work a bit. Use their understanding to push your own along.

"So when I said Justin's a Verbena, it's like saying he's a fucking Catholic. Or, well. Technically a pagan or whatever, the Catholic bit was a fucking analogy."

Sera looks like she's ready to tuck her arm into Grace's just as easily and intimately as she sat with Hawksley that night they first met at Mutiny, and walk with her through the kitchen, chatting as they follow Shoshannah toward the library. If Grace stiffens up or pulls away, though, it won't get that far. Sera'll tuck her hands into the pockets of her cut-offs instead.

"Does any of that that make sense?"

[CourtCat]

Something, goodness only knows what aside from it being fairly obvious that it was something one of the other women said, sets Shoshannah's shoulders stiffer, stutters her step, and suddenly she's peeling off. "You know what? Sera can get you into the library, Grace, you don't need me. See you around, or whatever." This is muttered only barely loud enough to hear, and now the Dreamspeaker can't look at either of them. Somehow, she's managed to shrink in on herself, giving her the appearance of a less corporeal waif - so much about her feels like the grave (and sets the hairs on the back of one's neck on edge, gives one shivers and goosebumps) that the visual impression is fairly strong. In truth, if she could she'd just disappear . . .

. . . but she can't, so she does the next best thing. Which is, in this case, all but fleeing (despite the urge to fight - who knows what would happen if she did that here, now) the company she's in and getting to her room as fast as she can. It's quite probably a relief for Grace and Sera when she does.

[FadedNoel]

Grace listened as the Cultist of Ecstasy spoke (and if that were the name, it seemed appropriate for her) but a bit of sadness fell about her face as Sera continued.

She wasn't religious. At all. The opposite in fact. Religions were mostly a way to control people, she thought. Most powerful institutions are. Sure, individual practitioners could be perfectly wonderful people, but the leaders? The ones shoving ideology down from on high? They could make you believe anything. Greed is good, murder is permissible, you can get to the afterlife if you give me all your worldly possessions...

It was just an analogy, she tried to say to herself. Don't read too much into this.

"But, I haven't really met anyone yet who does share my world view, or come close. I mean, I think Sid is the only... you know... one I've talked to who really gets me, and she's not at all about computing," she said, her eyes flickering to Shoshannah, who looked offended. Oh. Well, crap.

When the girl stormed off, all teenage rebellion and spite, Grace looked about to follow her for a second before catching herself. Instead, Sera caught her by the arm, and the touch did set off alarms, did cause her body to involuntarily tense. It didn't help that today, the usual pins and needles in her skin were worse.

Sera responded by putting her hands into her pockets, and Grace went apologetic. "Oh, um... Sorry, you startled me."

[CourtCat]

[This is for Liz, so she can post accordingly!

CourtCat @ 9:25AM
These are Sera's Per+Aware-as-Empathy dice!
Roll: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 3, 6, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 4 ) VALID
CourtCat @ 9:26AM
These are Shoshannah's Manip+Sub YOU DON'T SEE ME dice.
Roll: 3 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 9) ( success x 1 ) VALID
niko's eyes be spyin' @ 9:27AM
Aw Shoshannh, you are so witnessed
CourtCat @ 9:27AM
Poor Shoshannah! Witness-y person?
CourtCat @ 9:27AM
*LOL*
CourtCat @ 9:28AM
Thanks!]

[mnemosyne]

Sera's face is rather narrow and her eyes are large but close-set and her brows rather straight (and rather darker than her bottle-blonde curls) but they spike upward as Shoshannah huffs off and her dark eyes linger on the teenager as she stalks from the kitchen, all venom and spike. She says nothing and makes no move to belay or interrupt Shoshannah but breathes out a breath that says, teenagers, what can you do which is, uh, pretty ironic coming from a girl who looks like Teenage Riot made flesh on her best days. And see, still her eyes linger, until the Dreamspeaker is out of immediate view.

That breath also serves as apology / brush-off of Grace's apology for that awkward moment where Sera's all let's link arms and Grace is all stiff no thanks which ends with Grace having her arms (tingling or otherwise) to herself and Sera with her hands not in her pockets because her author forgot she was wearing a sundress that probably does not have pockets but instead: linking in front of her like she's holding her own hand for a moment, then swinging free again as she leads Grace down toward the library.

And, talking,

"Well, see, one of the Traditions are the Virtual Adepts? Computer geeks, I suppose you would probably fit there," a narrow shrug of (growingly bony) shoulders beneath that not-prim little white dress. " - though I don't know of any in Denver I suppose you'd find them in the internet," - yes she said in the internet - "or whatever, too? But fuck if I know how you'd start doing that. They probably have some secret magickal hideout in games or whatever somewhere but I know fuck-all about computers,"

- the flash of a grin,

" - as I think we've established. I mean Dan puts music on my iPhone for me even if he hates it. Vinyl geek all the fucking way. 'Course you gotta be careful for a whole helluva lot of other reasons with that online shit because there's the Techs but that's probably WTF 102 right?"

"And," does she breathe? Probably has learned some circular breathing technique from Jim or: she's just a talker. "I am an Ecstatic. You remember the word I used for that feeling of oneness with the universe you were talking about? That feeling is kindof our jam.

"You should probably talk to Jim. He's one of us and he's a badass and he's smarter than me. Knows all kindsa shit about Ghandi and neuroscience. I mean, maybe you're more like us than you think."