Showing posts with label Alicia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alicia. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Home


Alicia

This is where she comes after she gets off the light rail from Littleton.

She could have just taken the light rail from Littleton back to Cherry Hills Village. It would have taken the same amount of time. Instead she took the light rail from Littleton up to downtown Denver and now she either has to get her ass back to the station before 7pm or call Collins to come get her. Or find a place to crash for the night.

Alicia does not do so hot thinking longterm. Right now she's walking into a bar near the metro station looking distracted but not miserable. Like she's got a lot on her mind and is in here to relax.

They have a bocce ball court. That isn't why she's here. She's here because she doesn't feel like walking all over the goddamn city.

Serafíne

The Matchbox is slow on a Monday night everyplace is slow on a Monday night Monday nights are tragic. People are recovering from the weekend and plunging back into work, trying to get back on track with deadlines and assignments and the rest of the usual bullshit that does not impact Serafíne in the least. She has neither a job nor a schedule and she's kinda waiting for Rick to get off work at the toystore then they're gonna walk home or does she even remember that he told her this morning that his shift was gonna end early and what the hell -

there's a bocce ball court on the back patio, and they're playing Andrew Bird (If your loose and libel lips/Keep sinking all my ships/ Then you're the one who sank my Lusitania / But some how it don't register as pain at all/Till it finds your crooked vein) on the sound system and it is piped onto the back patio and as Alicia walks in to The Matchbox she might maybe feel something familiar, which is to say: gut-wrenching and compelling and stripped of definitions and on-the-verge, that between feeling, that sense of some goddamned threshold.

Sera is whistling along and laughing over the strange things one has to do to make a whistle with a tall tattooed guy and a girl with dreadlocks and they're gonna go do whatever now 'cos they are NPCs and anyway Sera is excusing herself to go intercept Alicia as Alicia walks in.

"Hey, Alicia. What the hell are you doing here. Wanna beer?"

Alicia

"Yeah I want a beer," she says with a lopsided smile. "You buying?"

Of course Sera's buying. Sera is the gregarious one with a house and funds and friends. She could pay for it herself but she isn't going to turn down a beer if someone else is offering it. Up to the bar they go and she offers whatever seasonal ale they have on draft. She isn't the world's biggest pumpkin fan but she won't turn down a good Oktoberfest.

Once she has her drink she hops up onto the stool so she can be somewhat at eye-level with the Cultist and her crazy heels.

"So... I was at the library and I didn't want to go back to the ranch just yet. Are you heading back there tonight?"

This is a gateway to her asking for a ride. Look everyone. Alicia can be taught.

Serafíne

So Alicia gets an Oktoberfest and Sera has a bottle of something (it is a sour ale that tastes like sour cherry juice) in her right hand and she rests it on the bartop and of course she's buying and of course people come to see what the fuck she wants when she wants it, and she's about to order another but - "What the fuck is the Rumchata by Elvis - " gets a brief sketch of an explanation from the 'tender and Sera flashes the chick a grin, " - but make mine a goddamned double, cool?"

--

"Why, you need a ride? Sure, I can take you home. One way or another, we'll get you there."

Alicia

And Alicia is content to sit and watch the happenings between Sera and her friends. She's too young to be in here anyway but if she were by herself she has a document that serves as proof that the bartender can serve her. Nobody has asked for an ID in here for weeks. They're good judges of character. They can smell a cop from a block away.

After the conversation she had with Hawksley the other night she isn't going to mince words. Doesn't matter if she needs a ride or doesn't need a ride. If she could make it out there just fine with her feet. Alicia gives Sera a smile and lifts her beer in a toast.

"Thanks, girl," she says.

Serafíne

Alicia's beer comes back quick. Sera's bizarre drink concoction takes much longer and requires the use of a blender and the peeling of a banana and Sera's friends - the folks from the bocce ball court - wander back in and they're heading out, she'll see them around, and the truth is she just met them tonight and cannot really remember their names except with magic but they're already in her phone and they'll probably show up to her next party, like they've been part of the crowd all along.

When Alicia lifts her beer in toast Sera tips out the base of her own bottle and clinks, see. Chiming. The noise feels right and there's a bit of weight behind it and she takes one last sip and tells Alicia, "You should try this, it tastes like a sour cherry pie. It's brilliant - " when the bartender brings back her Rumchata by Elvis concoction and presents it with all due fanfare and Sera admires it as is only right and proper and leans herself against the bar, all hipslung and sort of gives the bartender a look when she seems inclined to linger close and make conversation and sends her back to the other end of the bar.

"All that library shit," Sera is savoring her drink now. Swirling her straw through its striations. " - you're gonna go blind." A quiet little smirk that blooms and recedes just as easily as it comes on. "Seriously, though. You settling in? Getting on out there?"

Alicia

"I thought it was masturbating that'd make you go blind."

That isn't an evasion. There's room for bantering a bit before Sera says she's serious and wants to know how she's settling in. Alicia shrugs and considers the row of bottles and the glass behind them before she looks back at Sera.

"It's alright. I'm used to staying in motel rooms, so the space is a little..." She chews her lip. Swallows down whatever else she might have said that. "Overwhelming. Sometimes. I'm not going anywhere though."

Serafíne

"The nuns used to tell us that shit. Not in so many words, mind - they'd be all evasive and call it self-abuse, but whatever. Unless your kinks involve razor blades and soft tissues - "

And Sera is still playing with her drink. Pulling the straw through the murk, pulling it out. Licking off the whipped cream and marveling over the whole of the concoction. And still, you understand, her eyes are dark and are quick on Alicia's countenance. There is lip chewing and swallowing-down and it doesn't feel like evasion but something else and Sera's smile - the curve of her mouth - is in that moment so exquisitely tender, so markedly gentle that it doesn't seem like the expression belongs anywhere close to the countenance of a girl like her.

"You need anything. Or, I don't know, just want to get out and go shopping or what the fuck ever, you let me know. Cool?"

Serafíne

Also PER + AWARENESS AS EMPATHY how you feel?

Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (2, 3, 3, 4, 7, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )

Alicia

There's something she isn't telling Sera and it has to do with the present for a change instead of the past. But the past is going to cast a pall over her until she is truly over what happened to her and her father. She may never be over it. Hard to get over something like that. Life will go on and she will have good days and she will have great days and there may be days when she doesn't think of it at all. Whatever she swallowed down was not like that.

It's going to take some time before she trusts herself or the people around her enough to talk about the good things she remembers about her father. Before she can talk about her Awakening or the abduction. They have some time. Probably not as much as they'd like.

In the Alicia looks at Sera for a few moments and then smiles. It's a sad smile. She's tired. Maybe she's gone lonely on them.

"That..." And she sounds hopeful just before she decides if she's going to commit to this or not. She decides. She smiles. "Yeah. Cool. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Alicia

[IDK where that sentence was going but get rid of the "In the" in the first sentence of the third paragraph.]

Serafíne

"Whatever the fuck I want."

So says Sera, and she says it with a curving mouth and just enough surety that no one could ever disbelieve her. That is, after all, what she does almost every night and that is the way she likes to live her life. Whatever the fuck she wants.

"You wanna hit the Buffalo Exchange? Or do you have something else in mind?" There is a beat; Sera takes a sip of her drink. It is insanely ridiculously delicious and she makes such a face - bliss, you understand - and then she exhales and opens her eyes and says, a bit more quietly, nudging one of Alicia's feet with her own. "Something else going on? I mean, it's cool if you don't wanna talk, but it felt like there was something else you were gonna say, there. You know?"

Alicia

The fact that Sera notices and wants to know more makes Alicia smile a conciliatory smile. She rocks a bit with the collision exaggerated because Sera did not nudge her that hard. Just an acknowledgment. She is not trying to close herself off.

"Nothing," she says with a scoff. If it weren't nothing Sera would not have noticed. "Sorry, I don't want to talk about it. It's about Hawksley. It really is nothing, I just... you know, he... misread something I'd said, and we were shitty at each other for a minute and I started crying and it was super awkward. We're okay now. Please don't say anything to him. It's just hard, you know, adjusting. I'm..."

Just say it Alicia. Nobody's going to think you're being a baby.

"I miss my dad."

Alright. Congratulations. You're an adult. Drink your beer.

Serafíne

"Can I give you a hug?"

Alicia

Her eyes immediately well up. She grits her teeth and swallows and they even out though they still shine. The breath she blows out her nostrils is heavy and hot. Sera can see her thinking about it.

Alicia takes another bracing slug of her beer and quick-nods her head with her jaws still clenched.

Serafíne

So Sera hugs her. Sera is warm and she smells like cloves and cinnamon and PEANUT BUTTER BANANA ALCOHOLIC MILKSHAKES and she is lean and quick and her arms are wrapping around Alicia and she is cupping the back of the other girl's skull with a tender hand and pressing her mouth to Alicia's temple, humming a bit, against her skin.

"I'm glad you guys are okay, now."

Quiet, this. Sera's breath warm and her awareness humming and her mouth curving in a quick-ling sort of smile that Alicia can feel rather than see, soft against her skin. Everything about the gesture is tender, and also somehow strangely respectful - of whatever boundaries Alicia might have, and of her grief and her right to it. Sera does not want any of these things to go away. What she is saying, with her body rather than her mouth, is not: don't be sad. But rather: you can be sad. I'll be right here.

It is such a hard thing to be human.

To be human and to endure loss, to live with it. To leave someone behind and relegate them to history. To wake without -

"And I know you miss your dad."

It lasts as long or as briefly as Alicia desires, that hug. The cradle of her hand. As long or as briefly as Alicia desires, and then Sera is pulling away, planting a kiss in the center of the other girl's forehead, the third eye though Sera does not know this, does not know any of these things, and Sera buys Alicia another drink and then suggests that they go elsewhere, she got a text from so-and-so who suggested the Thin Man, has Alicia been there?

Before the night ends, Sera gives Alicia both: her cell number and her address, just in case she needs either. And Sera can stay out as long as she wants or as briefly as she needs, one way or the other, by the end of the night, Sera returns Alicia to Hogwarts.

Home.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

happy endings are bullshit


cauchemer

(Rules: uh, obey me. No, seriously. Anyway.

Setting: in and around Skyline Park, close to dusk. It is movie night. There are plenty of people, quite a diverse assortment, picnicking or heading to restaurants or walking back from restaurants. There are food trucks all around too. People have their blankets spread on the grass in front of the movie screen, and kids are skateboarding around the block fountains. Food trucks around include Korean BBQ Tacos and Grilled CheeseWhiz and Everything's Crepe and so on.

Might want to work them closer to the fountains but I can work with anything you lay out there. :D )

Choi

A phone call or text message was all it took to summon Maxine out to play. They'd exchanged phone numbers, as people their age are wont to do after spending an afternoon chilling and doing things they shouldn't in the park. Something to the tune of Hey, there's a movie night at Skyline Park. Let's crash that bitch, there's food trucks. and Maxine said she would be there with bells on.

Sure enough, parked along near the food trucks and big enough to be mistaken for one by the less-than-alert pedestrian, was Maxine Choi's big orange van-- AKA, home. She had found Alicia in the crowd, a text of Where the fuck are you and an answer of some landmark or another helped expedite that process (thank you, technology).

Hey! / Hey. / You want food? / Yeah man, I'm fucking starving.

And that's how they wound up waiting in line at a food truck. Korean BBQ tacos, Maxine insisted. She'd even pay if that's what it took to talk Alicia out of not experiencing that with her. Chili would have waited in line with them, a foxy little black dog that kept close and tight to Maxine's ankles to avoid being stepped on by people in the crowded square.

When food was collected and they were walking back to find a place to watch the movie that was soon (enough) to start, Maxine picked up one of four tacos on her plate and prepared to bite into it. First, though, she posed the question: "So, Elij' told me that he was going to introduce me to some folks." Because Maxine just launched into shit like that, proposed topics casual as a tortoise and happy as a lark. "You know the sort of folks. Do you know them too, though?"

Crunch.

"Shit that's delicious, you need to try it."

Romero

Landmarks are a surefire way for short folks to pick each other out of a crowd when they're close enough to see some distance but not with giants around them. Since that day in the park Alicia has meant to call or text Maxine but life moves fast when you're drunk and high all the time.

She isn't drunk or high when she climbs atop a half-wall to make herself taller that Maxine will see her. When the two girls spy each other the one with the long-long hair waves and clambers back down.

The water bottle Alicia carries into line with her doesn't have water in it but it's metal and what is inside of it sloshes just like water. Occasionally they pass by people who reek of pot smoke. It's summer. If there are rules for outdoor behavior Alicia is going to ignore them.

So they come to walk along and Alicia waits until she's bidden try the thing before she picks up her taco. Until then she masks her reaction to hearing Elijah's name by uncapping and slugging from her bottle.

Crunch.

"Fuck me," she says with her mouth full. "That's amazing." Focus Alicia. Chew and swallow. "I know a few of them, but I don't know where they all hang out other than the bookstore or the park."

Choi

"What, they just hang out at the park? Like, it's their turf and this is West Side Story?"

She grinned, as though she was the funniest thing in the world. She had a sip from Alicia's bottle if it had been offered up, but wasn't carrying anything of the intoxicating sort with her. Well, unless you wanted to call a cigarette of that variety. She had one out and tucked behind her ear. She was going to wait until they were done walking through the crowd before lighting, so she could avoid the fuss that tended to come when you trailed caustic smoke under the noses of many people.

"And right? BBQ and tacos, you can't go wrong." Another crunch, more munching. They neared the fountain, which was kicking up a misting bit of a splash. Maxine was veering toward it for the cooling effect. She was dressed in a pair of khaki-colored cargo shorts and a black tank-top, and a few multi-colored bobby pins held her shaggy short hair back from her forehead.

When she finished swallowing her food, Maxine followed up with a more sincere question. "Does someone own the bookstore, then? What's it called?"

Romero

Alicia has Phobia: Heights and Catlike Balance bc I am an asshole and she also has Concentration IDK if they're applicable or not yet but fyi fyi

Choi

[Deranged Flaw- Panic Attacks]

Romero

It figures she would understand a reference to a musical that came out before either of them were born. If Maxine had referenced anything come out in the last five years she wouldn't have a clue. That isn't the timeline they're living in though. Alicia can laugh at that joke. Maybe laughs harder than she ought to because she's delighted to have understood it.

Alicia is wearing a knee-length black cotton dress printed with pink-and-white flowers. Her shoes are black sandals with leather straps that make her look like she could have been a gladiator a few thousand years ago. Her hair is unrestrained and she wears the strap of her handbag diagonal across her torso.

Of course she shares her booze with Maxine. It's some fizzy vodka cucumber situation that she threw together before she came out here. The ice not yet melted. Vodka is instant liquid courage.

"An Arch Key?" she says. Carefully enunciating each word. "Or Night Owl, I don't know. Some guy named Adam runs it.

Choi

"Adam, huh?" Crunch crunch crunch. "Well I'll be assed if that isn't a forgettable name."

Maxine was memorable, in her eyes, because it was a name that sounded like old lace and probably smelled like Wind Song perfume. She's been told before that it was the kind of name that belonged to a woman who was over six foot tall, as wide as she was tall, regal and imposing. Maxine Choi had laughed through her teeth and insisted that it was the perfect name for her, in that case, and that she should go home and high-five her parents straight away.

Chili trotted along nearby, and as Maxine slowed to a full on stop near the fountain she stooped down to share some of the meat from her taco with the little dog.

"Might have to look into that, then." Once the dog had plucked the meat from Maxine's fingertips, delicate and cautious with just the front teeth in use, the petite and rather androgynous teenager straightened back up. "Y'know, I don't think I ever asked: are you from around the Denver area? Or did you blow in on the wind too?"

cauchemer

The movie-night crowd is pretty diverse. Teenagers acting sullen, parents lugging three 2.4 children and all the trimmings downtown from the 'burbs. Retired couples who are down there in the grass spreading out handmade quilts and unpacking the most exotic delicacies from honest-to-god picnic baskets, the sort with cubbies for honest-to-god crystal wine glasses because do you really want to drink a brilliant Bordeaux on a delicious little Syrah out of plastic? I don't think so.

Kids from the southside, from the projects, from everywhere, spread out, eating, chilling, hooting, flirting, jerking off (okay, maybe not) making out (for sure).

--

Cops are visible at the edges of the crowd, here and there. Just a handful, leaning against the lampposts and the planters, drinking coffee and chatting with strangers and keeping an occasional eye on the crowd to step in in case of pickpockets or - whatever. There's always something, when people mass themselves in hot cities on summer nights.

Always something.

--

And it is indeed, a rather warm night.

Too warm for the trenchcoat the redheaded kid trailing along - not behind them precisely, but parallel - is sporting. That is surely why he's pasty, sweating a bit.

Maxine goes from strolling to a fullstop to share some meat with her little dog and the kid sort of bumps into her, gives her this quick, startled look. "Jesus fuck - " low. "Watch where you're going, bitch."

Romero

That day in the park when Maxine had been lying out in the grass waiting for her drawers to dry they hadn't talked about themselves much. She had wanted to hear about the storm-watching took place beneath the overpass and they had smoked a joint and made fun of the other people in the park and pointed out the clouds and talked about meteorology and how it's so weird and cool that the stars are still up there even though they couldn't see them but there wasn't a lot of biographical information assimilation going on that day.

It was just as well. They reach the fountain and the spray is nice on their bare arms.

She's finishing her first taco when Maxine asks The Question. By now she's used to it. Or she thinks she's used to it. At any rate she doesn't have to answer it. Some ginger in a trench coat is giving Maxine static.

A trench coat. In July. Alicia frowns and stops walking because the kid is giving her maybe-could-be-a friend static. If they were back in D.C. she would have itched for a fight. Now she itches not to draw attention to herself.

"Just ignore him," Alicia says to Maxine in a tone just as low.

[perc + AHAHA SHE DOESN'T HAVE AWARENESS]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (5, 9) ( success x 1 )

Choi

[Perception + Awareness: That's okay, Maxine has plenty!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 6, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )

cauchemer

The kid is pale(r) than he should be. Holds that trenchcoat closed tight in a way that just feels wrong. There's something about him, but Alicia cannot quite figure out what it is.

cauchemer

The kid is pale(r) than he should be. Holds that trenchcoat closed tight in a way that just feels wrong. There is the faintest hint of something esoteric about him. It is not strong, more like a lingering malaise, the odor of a woman's perfume long after she has left the room.

Sulfurous.

Something about his belligerence feels both - desperate, and somehow, explosive.

Choi

Maxine hadn't been paying mind to the man in the trenchcoat. She knew full well that people would put up with some intolerable shit for the sake of their fashion choices. She figured, Hey, the boy is pretty damn pale, maybe he's just one of those kids that huddles around a computer finally come out to play for once. She'd dismissed him entirely.

Up until the point that he bumped her, she'd been watching Alicia instead while working on her second taco, waiting to hear where the girl was from if not Denver. When the boy had bumped into her, though, his arm heavy against her shoulder and flank, Maxine had stumbled a step back. She was a slight thing, after all, unprepared for the contact.

More than that, she was unprepared for the presence of the pale red-haired young man. Alicia had told Maxine that she should just ignore him, and Alicia already had a pretty good idea that her newfound friend would probably listen. From what she's seen of the other girl, she didn't have much of a temper, not much violence to her really. But she was bold, that's for certain. She'd blinked and stared at the young man, but the way she stared was interested more than offended. Intrigued. As though she wasn't worried about what she'd heard, but rather what she was seeing.

Her lips had parted some, she realized after a second that her jaw had slipped and mouth was beginning to hang open. She played it off with a bite into her taco, and glanced briefly to her left to meet Alicia's eyes. The gaze was held long enough for Maxine to bounce her eyebrows up and down a few times significantly, then Maxine spoke through the food in her mouth while turning her head to look at the very disgruntled fellow.

"Aye aye, Cap'n. I wasn't moving, but I can see how that was my fault."

Her speech cleared, as she'd swallowed halfway through her sentence. Her head tipped to the side, and she glanced down at the plate of tacos before picking one up and holding it out as an offer. A peace offering, in a sense, but also an offer for trade. A taco for an answer, because she asked while extending her arm: "What are you hiding, Firecracker?"

cauchemer

One of those nights where it feels like the carpet is somehow unrolling beneath your feet and somehow you're just careening forward, gathering momentum, building into - into -

The kid's pallor is the sickly sort and there is sweat enough in his hair and on his skin that it is starting to form its own watershed. Droplets combine to make rivulets that snake down his cheeks, along the side of a rather-sharp nose. His eyes are bloodshot, adam's apple prominent enough that even inobservant Alicia can see it bob as she speaks and draws his attention - direct, full of menace -

- then Maxine pulls it back. He holds the trench closed with his left hand, tight, but the right is free and he lashes out with it at the taco she holds out as an offering with enough force to crack the shell or even send it flying.

Then gives her the finger.

"You should listen to your friend. I said fuck off."

Something dark beneath his nails.

Romero

Maxine waggles her eyebrows. Alicia's eyes go wide.

Yeah. She's weirded out too. She doesn't know what she's supposed to be doing. Still hasn't figured out what she's done in the past that's let her do what she's done in the past. Been terrified and been touching someone else and been drunk or smoking or or or.

Right now her heart is pounding beneath her breastbone and she's tucked in close to Maxine like to tell the world there's two of them. Breathing fast and her fingertips haven't gone numb from the alcohol yet but she's holding the slim canteen in one hand while the other comes to rest on Maxine's shoulder.

"Max," she says in a low pleading voice.

By now it isn't a plea not to get involved. It's a plea to sort out what the hell they're supposed to do. With great power comes great responsibility but their power can barely help them find their way out of a wet paper bag.

[scan time! awyeah! going for life but tack matter and prime and spirit on there too for shits. i like to call this cocktail WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.]

Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (3) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Choi

The taco was slapped not entirely out of her hand, but it jumped and jerked enough that the contents spilled onto her hand and wrist. It was hot, so she made a quiet curse in a language not English (French, if you bothered to catch or pay mind) and hastily put the rest of the taco back on the plate, then shook her hand out some.

Near her ankles, Chili stood stiffly and bristled black fur along her back. Didn't growl or make a sound, but watched the boy sharp and anxious.

Maxine glanced briefly to Alicia again, then looked back forward. Her eyes nearly crossed as she focused entirely on the finger, on what was caked under his nails. If he was willing to hold that middle finger up for the full five seconds that Maxine was going to take to study it, then so be it, but either way Maxine would ultimately blink, refocus on his face, then shrug and say:

"Fucking off now." She lifted the taco-juiced hand and started to lick the sauce from her wrist and pinky finger as though it were an ice cream cone, and began to walk backward along the fountain's edge, away from the fire-haired and furnace-powered guy.

Her eyes didn't move away from him while she walked. As she went, she spoke quietly-- the sounds would be lost in a crowd, but Alicia was keeping near enough to be able to hear words that sounded old as ages spoken in a voice that was pitched much lower than comfortable speaking. The words sounded like they had the intention of invocation.

[Scanning as well, but with Spirit Sight! Spirit 1, Prime 1 too, I suppose? Focus-- Chanting!]

Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (8) ( success x 1 )

cauchemer

Alicia has a sense of his blood. His heart. His heart, beating. He is: keyed up, alert, consumed by some goddamned passion. Feels like someone about to jump out of an airplane without a parachute, doesn't he? He is also, not precisely whole. His back is covered with snaking scars, a few still raw but healing welts. Other, finer, a latticework over his torso. Razors there, though she does not know it. Just the precision, the webwork of it. The reflected pain.

cauchemer

Whatever he is, whatever is riding this strange boy, Maxine knows assuredly that it is not otherworldly. It is not some driving or driven entity. His rage and his pain and his - whatever is wrong with him, whatever is driving him - is rooted in this world.

Poirot

[Did I sleep okay?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (2, 2, 2, 6) ( fail )

cauchemer

He smiles wide, the kid. There is something lashing about the expression, and it isn't a genuine smile, so much as a showing of teeth. Still, Maxine backs off - fucking off now she says - and that gives him this little dollop of a rush and he breathes out all heady like it is done, like he is -

like he is -

like he is whereever the fuck it is he is going.

Tense as the confrontation between them is, well. No one around them has seemed to notice much.

The red-headed kid turns around, swallows hard, still holding his trenchcoat closed with his left hand, tapping the fingers of his right together with his thumb in a rushed and arrhythmic fashion that betrays his stress.

Surveys the crowd with those bloodshot, shifting eyes.

They all swim past him. Smear past him. They don't even fucking matter. He's looking for the perfect place.

The perfect -

Romero

She doesn't want to weird the kid out. He seems like he's on edge as it is and Maxine is distracted with her chanting. This would be a good enough time to let him keep on walking but whatever her wide-open eyes tell her lashes at her like watching another person take a beating.

Despite the threat of tears ever-present in her life Alicia wears black eyeliner and black mascara. It keeps her from looking the sort of tired that party girls tend to look after too many days in a row without proper sleep or nutrition. Keeps her from looking sad. It's a paradox. Black is known to be a sad color.

As Maxine busies herself with her chanting Alicia fumbles for something else to help him. She doesn't know this kid. Just that he feels like a fatal leap about to happen.

"Hey," she says. Tension in her tone makes it clear she's trying to snag his attention. This is how people get stabbed or shot. Alicia is still a kid. All her father ever taught her to do was run away. She tosses a glance at Maxine before she takes a couple quick steps forward and puts her hand on the redhead's shoulder. "Wait a second?"

[extending that ish. trying to pick up matter/prime this time. +1 diff for the extending. DON'T MAKE ME REGRET NOT SPENDING WP KID.]

Dice: 1 d10 TN5 (4) ( fail )

Poirot

"Quit moping," Jenn said.

It was true, Elijah Poirot had been moping, and a mopey Elijah is about as sad as a sad circus lion- something nobody wants to pay to see, but is ultimately entertaining because it's ever so productive and willing to bite things. Having succeeded in avoiding his job for the last three days (it turns out, he found, that you really can call in crazy to work, but we digress), Elijah felt the need to celebrate with a free movie (because poor) and Korean barbecue tacos (because he probably won't live long enough to regret what this is going to do to his stomach lining).

Last night, the water poured in to a hospital room. Things floated up and orderlies passed by. Never had he wanted a room mate worse than at that juncture, but the water poured in and his body, like stone, failed to float. His mind wandered until-

"Hey, she's here!"

"Huh?"

"Alicia, go talk to her," Jenn said with a shove.

"Wha-huh, no!" Elijah, however, couldn't exactly get away from the shove. Jenn's attention flickered to a cute blonde down the way who had been staring at her tattoos for the past fifteen minutes.

"Uh, yeah, no, you've been blowing up her phone go talk to her. You're a useless wingman when you sleep shitty, now go," Jenn pulled him down to her level and kissed him on the cheek in much the same way you would a brother.

"Ugh, fine," now, he had to try and not sound excited. Jenn shoved again and ran off to go talk to someone else.

Which left Elijah to go approach the retreating Maxine and the person he'd not been able to get ahold of the past few days.

"Yo, Maxiiiiiiine," kind of like Adriane, but less Stalone.

Poirot

[Awareness, -1]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 2, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

cauchemer

The red-headed kid is pale(r) than he should be. Holds that trenchcoat closed tight in a way that just feels wrong. There is the faintest hint of something esoteric about him. It is not strong, more like a lingering malaise, the odor of a woman's perfume long after she has left the room.

Sulfurous.

Choi

Alicia had asked Maxine to ignore the boy, but the moment that she'd begun to back off, to watch the boy and see what he did, her companion stepped forward in her darling dress with her darling hair and asked so-sweetly, so concerned for him to hold on, to wait. Maxine herself flicked her eyes toward Alicia, furrowed her brow just the tiniest bit, and looked back to the red-haired man again.

She had her jaw set in a way that jutted her chin out. Chili was staring down the man, untrusting.

Maxine had taken a breath and stopped her backward meander, apparently unwilling to just keep ambling away while her friend stepped forward instead. She'd sucked in a breath and was perhaps about to say something, but then her name rolled its way over the crowd in a drawling half-heareted impersonation. The petite Korean with the short choppy hair, all bobby-pinned up, held that breath and looked around with quick sweeping scans of the eye.

Elijah was tall, distinct of face, easy to pick out of the crowd. Maxine answered by baring teeth in a wide grin, but the expression didn't really reach her eyes so it looked more like a simple baring of teeth and not much else-- strained instead of joyous. Something about how she jerked her gaze back to the man clutching his coat closed, how she looked at him with eyes widening and jaw tightening still, suggested that she was in the middle of something and Elijah's hailing had distracted her.

Still, she kept that chanting under her breath, ended the old language on a single note that was low and deep enough that it vanished in the din of the crowd. You could only hear it if you were close enough to feel its bass.

[Extending the scan-- +1 diff to extend, +1 diff for distracted]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

cauchemer

Maxine: The magic continues; wraps her vision, warps her vision, from spirit to the flesh, to the substance of the universe, the bright web of energy from which everything else must be formed.

What she sees around the young man are no more than remnants. He has been around magick. He has been around Willworkers. There is nothing, now, that binds him. It is all wrapped around him, warped around him, like the filaments of a broken web. The only piece of it she understands for a certainty is the manipulation of time. That is the smallest part. Whatever else: was stronger, more enduring, but those are magicks beyond her ken. Still, the hint of sulpher and something else, harder to know or define.

cauchemer

Everything. Everything. He is letting himself slide into the moment, feeling it become all glassy. Why does every heart beat seem like a new goddamned universe when we are poised on the edge of -

Then Alicia touches him.

Hey. What a second -

The kid was staring at the step-blocked fountain. He was going to climb it, water and all, he can already feel himself rising, he's imagining the moment when everyone starts whispering, when the crowd begins to ripple with rumors and strangers start turning and but someone's touching him and he wheels on Alicia,

furiously

forgets to hold the trench closed and lets go because he wants both fucking hands free to shove her and that's what he does.

He wants to send her sprawling.

--

The trench is buttoned, mind. But enough of it opens up that Maxine, Elijah, and Alicia can all see the explosives in the vest he wears beneath it. Thin wires snaking out of all the pockets, taped together to go up his sleeve and down to a detonator taped on the inside of his left wrist.

--

"Don't TOUCH me."

[Action: Shove Alicia!]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 5) ( fail )

Romero

Alicia has the same reaction most people would have to being in the midst of a pleasant evening only to have danger come rushing up to meet them. She's survived enough close calls in her young life that one would think she'd be an old hat by now.

One person in this crowd knows she has callouses on her hands not from playing too many video games or from working outside. Bone and skin have rubbed the meat between them to form a hardness where her hands gripped a pistol once. More than once. They're fading after two months without lessons but Alicia knows how to fire a gun.

Doesn't mean she knows how not to freeze when she sees a kid trying to climb his ass on up onto a fountain and do fuck knows what once he's up there. He tries to shove her and all he does is make her stumble.

Stumble and freeze and tunnel everything else around her so the only part of her brain functioning is the part of her brain wired into the rest of reality. She's scared out of her mind but it doesn't occur to her to run. Just to stand in place and plead with him.

Her voice is shrill with fear but not loud.

"Then WAIT A SECOND."

Poirot

He couldn't think far enough ahead to think to tell Jenn to run. The kid is too pale, had a smell about him like sulphur and it made Elijah's stomach turn- perhaps because of a memory or perhaps because of the knowledge of something else entirely. He doesn't know enough about explosives to know how much is there, but he knows enough to know that it is just enough to make a point.

And isn't that what people want? To make a point?

There are things Elijah knows. He knows that he is not explosion proof. He knows that Alicia and Maxine are still in explode-right-now range and he does not particularly like the concept of his friends being splattered everywhere. So, he does what any sane person could do, he dials 911 and waits. Waits as long as his mind will let him wait until he can hear that familiar what's your emergency question. He just waits until there isn't dead air and ringing before blurting - "there'sabombatskypark"- and shoving his phone inside of his vest pocket.

"Oh, shit," he curses, and Elijah makes his way to bridge the gap between the people there about as quickly as he could because this wasn't going to end well. No, no this was not going to end well at all.

Choi

[Well, I for one don't like being exploded: Rolling WP, diff seven 'cause BOMB!]

Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (2, 3, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Choi

What Maxine saw happen occurred in different spectrums behind her eyes. She could see the physical happening-- see the bodies move, see the boy turn toward the fountain and grab the ledge on the lower level of stacks as though to pull him up. She could see Alicia reach for him only for him to twist about and pull his arms back in toward his chest. She watched him piston them forward as though with every intent to blast Alicia backward with the sheer force of his hate and insistence not to be touched. She watched weak-wrists and arms that she guessed to be skinny in those coat sleeves fail to even budge the girl.

She also saw another side of things, too. Maxine's pupils widened, took in so much more than what others could see. The low, undulating note that warbled and wavered in her throat and chest sent a frequency out, created ripples so that she could see what bounced back. It peeled and crumbled the Sleep from her eyes, and let the Light shine on through. She could see how that Light fizzled and refracted off the man, could see how a different but tied-in current warped and broke from its standard flow around him too-- like a rock in a smooth flowing stream disturbing the current.

While she may have fallen forward into the brilliant warmth of the Light That Made The World, she could still see the physical. So the explosives strapped to the man under that trench didn't go missed at all.

Her heart slammed in her chest, slammed in her ears and head and kicked her back away from the Light, caused her to blink her eyes and shift her focus back forward and onto the scene at hand. Sensing the disturbance and tension in the air, Chili yapped three times sharply before Maxine silenced the dog with a quick crouch and hand closing over the animal's muzzle to hold jaws closed. "Tssst!," was the sharp hushing sound that she made for the animal.

Elijah had seen too, she noticed. He was headed over quickly, cutting and pushing his way through the crowd-- a crowd so heavily drowsy with their own Slumber that they hadn't even noticed anything going on. She licked her lips and set the plate of tacos down on the fountain ledge, then stepped forward to be beside Alicia again. Didn't reach out to grab her shoulder or wrist or hand, but shoved her own hands into her pockets and set a look of what seemed to be disappointment (but had panic, threading and sharp as a needle-sewing-seam shining hard underneath) onto the man.

"Hey," she added, "so I promised to fuck off, but I can't now, sorry. But hey, man, what happened, huh? Who fucked with you?"

cauchemer

Do-di-do.

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (3, 4, 6) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

cauchemer

"What!" The kid, explosive (hah!) snaps wildly at Alicia, all frustrated menace, all some goddamned thing.

There's a fever pitch to his frustration, a wild edge that she can still taste, where she feels his heart beating, wildly, as if it were right in the back of his throat. "What the fuck does your worthless fucking ass think you fucking want you stupid fucking bitch - "

His arms swing wide open, this great predatory sweep giving presence and immediacy by the dark weight of that trench coat he sports and he looks right at Alicia then sideglances right at Maxine with a distinction that marks them both out even as Maxine sees and sees and puts down her damned tacos and turns back to him -

Those wide-flung arms though, leave him scrabbling, like he's lost hold of something he needs right now, and he is patting the edges of the sleeves, mutting nothing that makes sense, when Maxine addresses him and he snaps, "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You don't know shit. No one does. I'm gonna show you all.

"I'm gonna show all of you."

--

Meanwhile, Elijah makes a call. Connects with 911. Reports what he reports to the people to whom one reports such things and not long after (heartbeats?) the edges of crowd are shifting. The cops who were drinking coffee and chatting up locals are talking into those little radios they wear on their shoulders and craning their heads, searching through the dusk and dark for any signs of disturbance.

Romero

[perc + ahaha]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (2, 5) ( fail )

Choi

[Perception 3 + Awareness 3]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 7, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )

Poirot

{per+aware-1]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 3, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )

cauchemer

Something around the kid: sulfurous, transcendent, molten but not of him. Sharp and sudden in the air. She does not know and cannot tell where it is coming from, but it tastes like the threads of old work she Saw.

cauchemer

Something around the kid: sulfurous, transcendent, molten but not of him. Sharp and sudden in the air.

Romero

The word 'fuck' like all spices has to go into a dish with a delicate hand or else it loses its effect. Maybe he would have had her at 'worthless fucking ass' because there aren't a whole lot of insults worse than this to say to a young adult but he keeps on going and Alicia looks like she pities him.

Pity won't stop him from blowing her up along with everyone else in here. She believes the world will go on without her though. It's gone on without plenty of other people.

"Show us what?" she asks in a voice brimming with tears same as her eyes brim. Makes it hard to talk. "How the FUCK are you gonna show anybody ANYTHING if all you do is HURT THEM?"

Okay now she's getting loud. He's scrabbling. She saw the detonator on his wrist. She tries to grab his other wrist so he can't press the thing without getting creative. Maybe hitting out at her will buy them enough time for the police to pull their heads out of their asses and nobody will get hurt.

Brilliant, Alicia.

Choi

[Well, I know what I see, but what does it mean?: Intelligence 4 (Will let ST decide if Mind Wide Open specialty applies) + Enigmas 2]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

cauchemer

what she feels now is resonance: the distinctive resonance of a willworker working his or her will. three notes she can taste in the back of her throat, centered on that kid, yeah. And no one within the area feels like that to maxine, but somehow that Work is still happening, here and now, right in front of her. the spheres: are spheres she does not know.

Poirot

Elijah hadn't hung up the phone yet. Sure, it was in his pocket. Sure, he wasn't certain if the operator was still there, but the edges of the crowd for the police were starting to move and he found that despite himself he wanted to be a lot more calm than he actually was. Maybe it was because he'd dreamed something horrible, maybe because he heard every morning since he was sixteen to live, live because tomorrow he would die and this? It looked like tomorrow was showing up and god dammit his knees wanted to give and he wanted to throw up but Christ this was a rush.

"Whoa, whoa dude, I get you wanna teach everyone a lesson but calm the fuck down if you want to do it… you're in a freaking fountain fighting with people in a trench coat."

There was a purpose in that. He had his cell phone in his pocket. he hadn't hung up with 911 just yet. If he said it loudly enough and clearly enough maybe the police would get the picture or someone would relay that little tidbit of information.

Romero

[dex + lol alicia what are you doing]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (5, 7) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Choi

Soon enough Elijah was by their side as well. Three teenagers, possibly four if you counted the red-haired man (Maxine wasn't confident on his age, but he could be 19 as well) stood together by the fountain with something as serious as a public bombing and massacre on their hands. Alicia was very focused on the here and now, the possibility of the boy getting a hold of that trigger again and following through with his crazed plan to show them all.

Elijah was talking to the boy, asking him to calm down. Alicia had surged forward to try and grapple the boy's wrists, and Maxine's lithe frame went tight beside her. The boyish girl didn't move to stop her friend, barely even turned to acknowledge that another had joined them.

Rather, she stared at the man in the trench coat, not with the pity that Alicia carried, not with heavy fear that would glue her attention onto him with a primal need to track her death every step of its way to greet her. She wasn't even looking at him to hear and accept the words that he shouted at her. You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know shit.

Oh, but Maxine did know shit, didn't she? She was watching the air around him, seeing something fizzling and crackling, incredibly atune to the ebb and flow of Light and the Power it carried and All It Created even if she didn't have the skill to reach out and touch and mold and bend any of it (yet). But she was smart, incredibly so. It was frankly astonishing the brain power in this girl, considering how little of it she tended to let on. Yet, if anyone were able to take a second to look into her face (and let's face it, that second wasn't available), they would see the gears spinning fast and efficient like a well-created and maintained machine.

She twisted her head to look around, as though searching for someone. Her brow furrowed, and she looked up to the sky, then back down to the conflict happening in front of her.

"Puppet," she said quietly at first. Then, again, louder, for Alicia and Elijah and even the young man to hear: "Oh those tendons and those fuses, they're just strings. But who, oh who, is pulling them? And from where? From when?"

cauchemer

do di do.

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (3, 7, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

cauchemer

The kid is fixated on Alicia, pupils sharp and narrowing. Sneering a bit when he sees her tears. Christ, of course she's crying.

"How the fuck do you think anyone ever learns anything. How else is anyone going to wake the fuck up to what is really going on in the world - look at these fucking jackasses - "

And he is really starting to get going on this tangent when Alicia grabs his wrist and he jerks it back and jerks it hard snarling because now he knows what the fuck this stupid little girl is trying to do and he's caught between one edge and another, this great, swinging pendulum and she's crying and there are tears in his eyes too and he

hates

hates

hates

"LET ME GO."

Snarling. Spittle frothing on his mouth, jerking his arm to try to get it out of Alicia's grasp, contorting his other hand trying to reach for, reach for, reach for the detonator. Something, he catches something with the crook of his pinky, all awkward, and starts edging it awkwardly into his grasp.

--

The kid is ignoring Elijah. Ignoring him, hardly notices Elijah trying to "calm him down" heh heh heh. At the fringes of the crowd, though, the word is going out and there is more focused movement. Elijah can hear the feedback of a transmitter, that crackle-crackle-hush of dispatch. The crowd is starting to thin around them. Not panic, yet, no. No one is telling people exactly why they are being asked to leave the plaza, just that they are and they should do it quietly please ma'am and thank you.

--

For Maxine, that sense of magick, the threads of it, only gets stronger, tangled all around the kid.

(Kid: Jerk free!)

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Poirot

Nope. He didn't much care for the fact that the kid had an arm free and he couldn't quite remember where the detonator was, but he knew that this was a bad, bad idea. He didn't want anyone to get blown up and the crowd was thinning and that seemed to be a good enough plan, yes?

the first thought was omgtackle, but then, in a moment of brilliance, something told him that tackling something or someone with an explosive vest on was not at all like it was in the movies and those things probably explode a lot easier than they look- and they look like they exploded pretty easily- so, plan B (the much safer option, considering) was to counter the man jerking away with an equally awkward attempt at grappling.

"Fuck!"

Poirot

[faaaaahk! dex+brawl, -1, +wp]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 5) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Romero

[jesus christ elijah

prime 1: watch the weaving. -1 quint to lower diff.]

Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (1) ( fail )

Romero

[backlash unless liz wants to do the honors]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( fail )

Romero

[HAH SUCK IT REALITY]

Romero

This is the part where Alicia does as much as she can do and then as much as she can do isn't good enough. She's actually crying now instead of just shining with the threat of crying and it doesn't get any better when the kid yanks his wrist out of her hand and Elijah comes running forward to grab the kid.

"ELIJAH!" she says and her voice is a rung alarm. She steps back then. What the fuck is she supposed to do she doesn't know what's going on where the fuck is -

"Max, what are you talking about, I don't..."

Choi

[Prime 1-- Watch the Weaving, oh yes watch, Song as focus]

Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (6) ( success x 1 )

Choi

[Correction! Runes as focus.]

cauchemer

She sees the threads of Work. She does not know the spheres, but she can see them in action: not on the boy, no. Not on the kid at all. But: in the air, and on the wires leading to the detonator. She does not know enough about the spheres to know what is happening, but she understands that the work is both immediate and small and supple, performed from some great-distance, and close-to-complete.

Choi

[Willpower, oh Maxine you can do this toots.]

Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (2, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

Choi

Max, Maxine, Maxamillion, Miss Choi Are You Paying Attention?

Maxine had refocused to the sky. She was watching something that others can't see, making a proper loony bin of herself while people began to take notice of the struggle. Her eyes were as wide as she could get them, and her hands crept out of her pockets and dragged arms behind them as though independently climbing toward the heavens.

As she did this, she hummed that note again. Her fingers were curled around a pair of small stones, clenched into a small fist while the other hand was splayed with open fingers. None could see, but on those stones were carved and then inked black runes as old as the words she'd uttered before.

"There's someone, something, and They're calling the shots. Not this--"

But then she froze. Previously she'd been rolling the stones in her fist, blatantly ignoring the spectacle she was making of her strange behavior. Her eyes had trailed from the sky down to the man again, landed on his chest, and then found themselves sharpened by not fear, but realization, and then panic. The need to race away, to run, to cover her head and go flashed clear as day in her eyes and her face, her limbs locked in terror like she was a deer in the headlights just for a hanging second and then--

"It's going to blow." She looks to the two, drops her arms down and crouches to drag Chili hastily up to her chest. "RUN!" This, she screams for her friends.

"IT'S A BOMB IT'S GOING TO BLOW RUN AWAY GO!"

This, screamed for everyone else around, as she heeds her own advice.

cauchemer

do-di-do.

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (5, 7, 9) ( success x 4 ) [WP]

cauchemer

Alicia is holding on as much as she can, openly crying now, but the kid jerks himself free and Elijah grabs for him instead. The gesture - well, the necessary effort means that the leadwire of the the detonator he was trying to edge up into his grasp slips a bit and -

The cops are closer. Elijah senses one behind him - the presence of a solid human body. Alicia and Maxine can see him - a tall African-American guy, with one of those physiques that has a solid layer of well-earned fat over a solid layer of muscle won by hard physical work not reps in the gym. The officer puts a hand on Elijah's shoulder and he smells of coffee and Old Spice and his voice is all rumbly as he says, quietly, calmly,

"It's alright son. You did well. We'll take it from here."

That's his left hand on Elijah's shoulder. The right has his service weapon drawn, and trained on the redheaded kid.

--

And that, is exactly when Maxine shouts, screams -

IT'S A BOMB IT'S GOING TO BLOW RUN AWAY!

--

There's so much happening all at once. The milling crowd - people were starting to get interested, some were being steered quietly away by police, but there's no more quiet. People turn and look and start to run. To stampede.

The kid takes advantage of the shifting momentum (they are buffeted by panic on all sides) to well and definitively jerk his arm out of Elijah's grasp this time and that officer is still training his service weapon on the redheaded kid and his partner is back further, now beating ineffectually against the movement of people in the other direction, in some direction, in any direction at all and Maxine and Elijah have two, three, four fractional seconds to start to run, if they intend to run -

Choi

Precious companion hugged to her chest with one arm, the second arm pumping along with slim legs in loose shorts, Maxine ran for her dear life.

Poirot

Turn around and run. Now.

Romero

Alicia backs away and she keeps backing away but she doesn't turn and run. She turns her head and just enough to see that Maxine and Elijah are running and she lets out a breath she hadn't known she was holding when she sees them run. Gratitude to a deity or deities in which she does not believe and then she swipes the back of her hand across one cheek to clear the saltwater.

cauchemer

- so they run. Join the tumult of strangers, also running, in every direction as the tumult rises all around them and over them and the kid is triumphant but they don't see the moment of triumph on his face, don't see the way he casually reaches down and unbuttons the trench coat to show off the vest he made. Fishing vest he bought at REI, that's the base for the whole goddamned thing.

He's smiling, the kid, strangely calm, still seating unphased by the gun leveled at him and unphased by the police officer who stands and holds it leveled even as the explosives are revealed, unphased by the panic and the screams and the way rumor rolls like a wave all around then, absolutely unphased.

And now he has access to the detonator, now he can take his sweet time. The officer is talking to him, all calm, see, trying to talk him down and the kid's smiling at him in this way that will, in the aftermath, seem eerie, but in the moment the officer thinks seems rather hopeful, like maybe he's getting through to the kid, but -

no

The kid gets the detonator in hand.

Squeezes it with his thumb.

Closes his eyes, like he's on the side of the angels now.

- and click clickclickclick

(nothing happens. nothing happens! nothing happens.)

"YOU. FUCKING. BITCH."

--

This part Elijah and Maxine and Alicia miss. The kid reaching for a weapon. The officer sort of tackling him. Precision tackling, like a linebacker launching himself at one of those practice linemen, deep and low, see, going for the legs rather than the chest, stopping the kid from getting the gun out of his fucking pants, what a stupid place to keep it. The other police sweeping in, somehow turning that heedless flight into something, well, manageable. Sending the running people running right, shielding them, fanning out, a wide net, looking for more: more bombs, more shooters, more strangers.

Needless to say: the movie will be canceled tonight. Ambulances come. There are people who were injured in the flight, none seriously. The bomb squad comes, too, to remove the vest from the kid and so on. This aftermath is to be glimpsed only from a distances, framed by the smearing lights of ambulances and police cars and fire trucks, which will distort the night until the wee hours of the morning, and then some, long after the redheaded kid arrested, folded into a police car, and driven away.

Choi

Maxine had raced away, but heard the screaming of frustration and rage and the distinct lack of an explosion. She twisted to look back, stumbled, and reached out to grasp some part of Elijah-- arm, shirt, belt, whatever was within reach-- to haul him back as well. Her footsteps went heavy and trotted her to a stop, even if she was buffeted tremendously by the bodies that rushed away around her. Chili was disgruntled but knew not to take the risk of finding the ground-- she'd surely be trampled. Maxine kept her cinched in to her chest with the one arm.

Eyes swam through gaps in the crowd, found Alicia's hair and dress nearer to the scene, saw her intact. She'd ride out the crowd's rush away until it abated enough for her to try and call Alicia over, to get Elijah to help if she could.

After that, the evening simply had to be over. Maxine said aloud: "Nothing tonight should top that, I'm scared that something might try if I push it." So, after making sure that the others were okay, or at least able to tend to one another's requirements for comfort, Maxine would duck away. After that, she frankly just wanted to get to her van and drive away.

Poirot

It hits him when he's running that he doesn't see Alicia. Oh fuck, oh fuck, he doesn't see Alicia and he turns to look for her. His instincts are telling him to run but he doesn't know where Max went, he doesn't know where Alicia went and his mind was reeling and oh god, oh god, oh god this was all going to blow. This was going to go up in smoke. And then?

Nothing.

He was in the crowds, and in the med and disaster of others, he was in his element. Amidst that tumultuous mess of people, he was at home. Not at ease, because when was home ever an easy place to be? But he caught a feeling of a hand on his belt, and he turned to see Maxine. He took her hand and weaved through in hopes of finding Alicia. Eventually, hopefully, he does.

"Hey," it's all he can really say, accompanied with a laugh that borders on mild hysteria because-well- we just saw why.

Only at this juncture does Elijah have the presence of mind to hang up his damned phone.

Romero

The last time someone told her to run she hadn't wanted to run. Maybe in her dreams she doesn't run. Maybe if she could go back in time and do it again she wouldn't have. But Alicia can't go anywhere in time but where she is at present and if she dreams at night she doesn't remember them when she wakes up only sees the white ghosts of salt dried on her bottom lids staring at her in the mirror.

She doesn't know exactly how far away she has to be to be out of the blast zone but she backs up what she thinks is maybe enough. She knows there isn't just one zone. Shrapnel does more damage to bystanders than the detonation itself. That much she knows. She knows she's near enough to hear the kid call her a bitch but she doesn't feel anything when he does it. Later she will but she doesn't know that. All she wants to do now is go back to her motel room and sleep.

Maxine and Elijah ran. Alicia stands watching until the kid is on the ground and then she walks away from the fountain and away from where they went. She is short. She can slip away into a crowd when she wants to.

This doesn't feel like a happy ending but Alicia's starting to get the idea that happy endings are bullshit.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

I never


Elijah

[how am I today?]

Elijah

Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (1, 4, 10, 10) ( success x 2 )

Alicia

A week after the lost night in the club Alicia was sat cross-legged on her bed at the motel a slight stumbling walk from downtown. She flipped open her handbag and held it upside down so the contents spilled onto the duvet. What she was really looking for was her room key. She found her way inside but now that she was on her way out she couldn't find the thing.

In the mess that fell out of the bag she found a travel package of wet wipes and a fold-up toothbrush and her sunglasses. A ticket stub and hair ties and pens and more than one Bic lighter. Bottles of pills and rolling papers. Her switchblade toppled out. So did her phone. So did the small bag of grass she bought the night before.

Where the fuck is -

Oh. Right. Inside pocket. There with the ID that wore another woman's name and the debit card that wore her real name which was not the name she had given to anyone in this city and the folded up napkin that had a young man's number on it.

She picked up her phone and dialed the number.

---

Elijah. It's Alicia. I wanna go to the park. Come with me.

---

They have hot dogs. They have all day ahead of them. They have low humming power between them and they feel like they don't have their shit together. Maybe they don't have their shit together. It's not a strong enough mayhem to draw the eye but together they do. He's a foot taller than she is.

She's wearing sandals and short shorts and a halter top that ties in the back. It's pink and brown and white the colors all melding together but not melted. Her hair is loose to catch the sporadic rays of sun and she holds onto his elbow as they walk.

It's been nearly four weeks since the men in suits took her father and she still doesn't know where they took him or what they've done to him but she didn't tell Elijah about that did she.

She's holding onto their food with her free hand. Her job is to protect the food while he finds them a spot away from everybody else. Their drinks are in her handbag. They aren't drinking soda. Soda is expensive. They picked up forties from the corner store. It's too nice outside to stay sober.

"So when's school start?" she asks because didn't he say he was a French major and he was here in town new with Jenn and maybe she's assuming but she asks anyway.

Elijah

He was standing in the ample empty space. It was a nice enough place to live, if you counted the fact that it had walls and a floor to be the determining factors for whether or not a place is actually nice. We digress, but it was hard not to be glad to not be living in a Marriott, and it was all thanks to Jenn. Jenn and her tattoo-ing prowess, the practice of which still half ached on his side and was nice enough to show off but not anything other than ouch for ELijah. He couldn't complain, though, he got a free tattoo out of the deal, and it was testament to trusting Jenn.

If she sucked, this could have ended poorly.

Besides, the guy coughed up seven hundred bucks for the tattoo Jenn had practiced once before. It covered their deposit to get into the apartment. Besides besides, he'd thought about getting one anyway, though he wasn't sure about the subject matter. He never imagined himself a Celtic (Pictish, Jenn had corrected) kind of guy. The only thing coursing its way through Elijah Poirot's veins at that moment was Tylenol.

He got a phone call.

Elijah. It's Alicia. I wanna go to the park. Come with me."Cool, I'm down," he replied.

and he was.---They have hot dogs.

Hot dogs are fucking fantastic.

He wasn't ashamed of loving these damned things, so he was quick to find somewhere that was near a tree, away from people, and away from any large body of water- which was just fine with Elijah because he was not particularly partial to anything deeper than a very insistent puddle. There is a restless between the two of them, a tension and a disaster that was just waiting to happen. Together, they feel like trouble.

It's nice to be around someone who feels like you do. Wide eyed, mildly overwhelmed. It's nice to be around someone who feels like you do- like a hot mess. Like unrest. And they walk arm in arm and he's got that damned grin on his face like this is precisely what he wants to be doing today.

They've got the whole day ahead of them. The brunette in her sandals and shorts and halter top. The blond in his jeans and tee shirt and vest. He's got a small army of bracelets on his left wrist. Twine, leather, two paper bands showing he's old enough to drink (ha) in two different establishments. And a little chain in his vest pocket for a pocket watch.

"September eighth, I think. I figure I'll have to print a bunch of shit so I'll know pretty soon when classes start. Are you going out here, too?"

Alicia

The perfect spot in a park is one near the trees. Sunbathers and hippies tend to stay out in the sun and there is a cluster of the latter down in the center of this quadrant. Banging bongos and fixing each others' dreadlocks and being even more of a hot mess than the two young people strolling away from it all. This far away they can barely feel the notes as they bounce inconsistent but constant off the bongo's head.

Shade is nice. The sun on the outside is nice. The grass is cool beneath them when they sit and Alicia unwinds her hand from his elbow so that she can sit on a gnarled band of root come up out of the packed-down dirt. Her own wrists are bare. The highlighter from last weekend has long since washed off.

She wears a neon green plastic watch on her left wrist but it doesn't tell time anymore. It needs a new battery. On her right thumb is a thin silver band. Other than the sunglasses she wears no other jewelry.

Alicia got a chorizo sausage instead of a hot dog because holy shit they sell chorizo at that cart. There are more toppings on her dog than there is meat. They gave it to her in a cardboard tray and covered it in foil and she has a fork to eat everything that will inevitably fall off of it. She hands Elijah his dog once they're both sitting down.

"What," she asks, "to school?"

The fact that she has to ask at all is answer enough. He's free to clarify if he wants. She's going to pose a non sequitur anyway. Once their food is distributed she opens up her handbag and takes the first paper-bagged forty out. Unscrews the cap and takes the first swig before passing it to him.

"What was it like, when you... had your enlightenment, or whatever you wanna call it?"

Elijah

[play it cool! Manip+sub]

Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 1 )

Alicia

[perc + NOTHING: you're probably cool bro]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 3) ( fail )

Elijah

He responded well to non-sequirits, having his answer enough given that she didn't know when classes started. he just figured that she had decided to work or something, which was inconsequential because now she was asking about what t was like when he had his… enlightenment.

Enlightenment. That was a really… really good word for it. Or he supposed it could be.

"It fucking sucked," he said with a laugh, "this… uh… this all started off almost two and a half years ago. I went up north with Jenn to go visit her family- Mom and Dad didn't mind, because we had a long Christmas break and they just kind of wanted me out of their hair so we went up north?

"Jenn's been my best friend for years, so bear that in mind. Most of my stupid shit stories involve Jenn and this… this was me being stupid."

He downplays it, the fact that awakening was terrifying and the event itself was scarring and he doesn't know how to articulate how terrifying it had been. He thinks he's holding it together, and for his part he does a mediocre job of faking things that make it sound like he's fine. He keeps his tone even, too even, until he remembers that if he doesn't vary his done the lack of inflection will give away how off settled he was. He took a bite of hotdog- because talking and eating about dying could make it seem okay.

Chili, cheese, jalepeños.

Fucking fantastic.

He covers his mouth and keeps form flashing her the disgusting concoction, "anyway, we were going to a party, took a short cut to cross a river- we're from the south, you gotta understand, I have no idea what good walk-on-this-shit ice looks like. So, my dumb sixteen year old ass hears the ice crack, I shove Jenn- which makes me feel like an utter asshole because I apparently keep the company of tiny brunettes who are aerodynamic- and the next thing I know I'm somewhere else entirely. I have this weird, out-of-body experience shit going on, and the next thing I know I'm coughing up water and Jenn's freaking out and there's firemen. After that, I start hearing this Voice that tells me a bunch of angry shit."

Alicia

Some people ask about How All This Started because they're waiting for the moment to share their own moment of realization. They want to turn it into a moment where they can help guide the young wizard out of his confusion and into understanding.

Alicia is beginning to get the impression that if she had asked any of the older folks in this city what it was like for them she would have gotten a sterilized version. No mention of blood or fear or not knowing what was going on.

Drowning and astral projection and hearing things. That sounds like tumult if ever she has heard such a story.

Though she eats her chorizo and drinks the beer while Elijah tells his story she is not a stone-faced observer. She smiles when he clarifies that Jenn has been present for a bunch of stupid shit and laughs when he says he doesn't know what decent ice looks like. This may not have been what he had in mind when he said he needed to find more reasons for her to smile but even in the midst of packing away a hot dog Alicia has a nice smile.

It doesn't vanish when he gets to what must be his guardian but she's intent now.

She also thinks he's doing a damned fine job of holding his shit together. If anything he sounds like he's just telling a story of shit getting out of hand at a party. This girl cannot read other people for shit.

"Do you still?" she asks. It's been two years. "Hear the voice, I mean."

Elijah

"Oh god yes. It spent the last two years screaming at me. Literally, I felt like the walls were shaking and at first it was fine but jesus I don't know if yours is angry, but mine is piiiissed ooooooff most of the time. But.. I mean… I'm starting to get that it's not… it's not pissed for the sake of being pissed," he laughed again, rubbing the back of his head.

"I really, really thought I was crazy because I was hearing that, I heard dead people- my life has basically been what happens to that kid in the Sixth Sense when he figures shit out, except I haven't gained weight and lost my career yet."

Have to have one to lose one.

Alicia

That kid in The Sixth Sense. He can see her frown behind her sunglasses and whatever her mouth is doing disappears behind the next sip of beer.

Oh right. Pop culture reference. Make a noncommittal yet amused noise and move on with the day, kid.

She sets the cardboard tray down on her knee so the ants won't get it and recaps the big glass bottle before she sets it down between them. Brown paper rustling as it settles in the dirt.

"You heard dead people before--" Okay. "Wow. I'm... sorry. That sounds cool and shitty at the same time."

Elijah

You heard dead people before--Wow. I'm... sorry. That sounds cool and shitty at the same time."It's like having a really needy girlfriend who throws plates and makes the walls bleed sometimes."

A beat, and he went to take a drink of beer, "what about you? How did you wake up to all of this?"

Alicia

At least he can joke about it. He can't see the appreciation in her eyes through the plastic of her lenses but maybe he can feel it. The way he has her full attention.

Of course he turns it back on her. She gives a quick shake of her head though like to tell him not yet. She isn't done with him.

"I'm still not..." She lets that sentence die. Starts another one: "What happened after the firemen got you? Did you just keep going on like you did before, or did weird men start leaving you 'it's easier if you're not alone' notes in libraries?"

Elijah

He is a perceptive creature, he has to be in order to have avoided all the things he's avoided over the last two and a half years, if only because he has managed to dodge other mages ad successfully unbelieved in his own truth so vehemently that he seemed to skirt under the radar. That said, Elijah Poirot could feel when people were feeling because empathy is an amazing thing.

Gets you laid like a mofo, too.

The point was, though, that he did feel her appreciation, and it did make it a little easier to smile. "Yeah, I…" because he needed to play it cool because this was awkward, "I stayed out of trouble by getting into it. Some guy up north asked me to call him- firefighter, big guy, but I got shipped back home pretty damn quick and I lost his number. I ran away from home a couple times, I… uh… basically, if there was anything I could do to make it go away, I tried it.

"I told my folks and they thought I was crazy, so… uh… I did that for awhile," that was uncomfortable to say, and he tried to pass on, "but yeah. I partied pretty hard, drank, smoked, fucked- whatever I could think of to do to make it quiet down. Jenn said some people aced about me once but she played it cool because they were creepy.

"Someone told me once how lucky I was nothing happened. Nobody talked to me until I got here."

If you call that being lucky- being so alone for so many, many years.

Alicia

"It's like, if you meet one person here, there's three more lurking around somewhere."

She must be referring to their people's propensity for congregating in the same place without prior planning. It's happened to her more than once already. Has to have happened to him already.

"At least you've got Jenn. And she's still with you even with all that weird shit. I think you are kind of lucky."

Elijah

"I don't know what the fuck I did," he said with a laugh, though it was under his breath, and not so much mirth as surprise. He had no idea what he had done to earn this woman's loyalty, what he had done to get his friend to move across the country with him, to stand by him when he thought he was losing his mind, to believe him (or at least pretend to) when he said he heard dead people. She showed up with hi, and for a man who said so many things and could observe so many things he was completely oblivious to things directly in front of him.

"And no kidding, it's like they've got magnets attached to them or something, or they've got some weird uncanny way of knowing when someone is where. I guess when you run in a small community you end up going to the same places all the damn time, even if it doesn't make sense."

Alicia

It's a reasonable assumption that quiet people are quiet because they're holding tight to their secrets. Some people stay quiet because they're shy or they haven't got anything to say or they have plenty to say but it's not nice so they're just not saying anything. This quiet that Alicia holds to is a sad sort of quiet but she's not sad right now. Not exactly. She's enjoying the day and the food and the company. She's enjoying listening to Elijah talk about himself.

Sadness and worry are neighbors. They run in the same small community. Go places together often.

Alicia takes a big bite of her chorizo and the toppings end up falling into her tin foil plate.

When she's done chewing:

"I guess so." Swig of beer. "And I thought I was fucked up. They've all got problems. It's kind of like... encouraging. You know? Not being the most fucked-up person at the table."

Elijah

She seems to like the listening, and he likes talking. He doesn't mind being the one who talks, just like he doesn't mind being the one who listens but at that juncture? Elijah felt like talking. She wanted to know, and he had experiences to share, and that was part of the joy of an experience, wasn't it? Finding someone who can share whatever happened. He'd been so quiet for so long, no one believed him for so long that it felt right finally saying something.

Plus, when he talked, he got to watch her reactions. He got to see her lips turn up. He got to see her brows knit together, he got to observe his newfound friend.

The toppings fell off onto the plate and Elijah raised a suggestive eyebrow, because really that bite was impressive. Besides, it gave him an opportunity to steal some of her toppings."I think that is just something that comes with the territory. Like… from what I gathered? A lot of people come into their understanding by some really fucked up stuff happening, and you would think they would deal with it but since things are weird I guess they just pile more crap on top of old crap and-" he snorts "-my therapist would have a field day."

A beat.

"And rest assured, neither of us are the most fucked up person in town, which is a pretty big honor. And for what it's worth you seem completely and utterly normal and rational."

Alicia

As much as she loves onions and peppers Alicia did not put any on her chorizo. Maybe she's planning ahead. Sighting time before it swings around to greet them again. It isn't much fun kissing someone who's had onions for lunch. She's looking out for Elijah in a way. Still piled on green chile salsa and tomatoes and cilantro and bacon bits and this sriracha lime mayo that was on the menu. She's young. What does she give a shit if this stuff is hell on her stomach.

She smiles when he starts stealing her toppings. Angles the thing so it's easier for him to grab. Offers him the fork too.

"Maybe you are crazy," she says. "There's no such thing as normal."

Elijah

He had not thought that far ahead, but he had been distracted enough by talking that the prospect of kissing a man who just ate a crap ton of jalepeños was not nearly as imminent as one would have thought. Clearly, one of them needed to plan ahead and that person was not Elijah Poirot.

He took the fork and with careful precision got on along to taking bites of food that wasn't actually his. Something about eating things from someone else's plate made food infinitely better. His attention was on mixing things together, scraping back a place on his own hot dog to pilfer-

sriracha lime mayo?

Don't mind if I do, thank you!

"Well, you sure don't seem typical, and it would be creepy if I called you extraordinary. So I think I'll stick with pretty freaking awesome."

Alicia

Of course he has to be cute and charming and self-aware. The fact that he makes her laugh also makes her wary. Like surely he's secretly working for Them and he's just trying to get her to drop her guard so she'll trust him and then they'll nab her the way they nabbed her father.

Problem is she can't go her whole life not trusting anyone. And if they were going to nab her they would have done it already.

So maybe he's not trying to trick her. He's already told her about his psychic ability and his therapist and how he was a wild child after his Awakening.

She likes to think that affecting an air of worldly cynicism makes her seem older than she actually is. It gets tiring after a while. She is neither worldly nor a cynic. She doesn't like to do what people expect her to do and labels are as good as chains to someone like her. But Elijah is harmless.

Her laugh is throaty and uncertain. Like she doesn't quite agree with him.

"Yeah, well," she says as she decides to let Elijah finish this forty while she cracks open the second. It's about half dead. "We're all pretty extraordinary. You're, like, extra-extraordinary, Mister I Hear Dead People Even Without Being Able To See Through Walls and Shit."

Elijah

He's been afraid for a long time, and being with others helps him be less afraid of himself, because Elijah Poirot was constantly afraid of something. his very soul was furious with him, angered that he had dared to ignore its pleadings and angered that he'd been so timid with himself.

It's not like you only live once.

He was harmless- it was charming and comforting in its own way. The only thing Elijah could really do any sort of damage to was the forty in his hand that he finished off with the sort of poise and confidence of an experienced drinker. He had lived a pretty wild life before he got to Denver. If Elijah had his way, he would continue to live dangerously.

"Do extras cancel out in English? Like a double negative," he said with a grin. That expression was his constant companion, incapable of being anything other than playful. He wasn't a cynic. He wasn't a predator.

"I should have brought a flask, we could have played I've never."

Alicia

Do extras cancel out in English?

"I think they stack."

As for the flask:

"Playing I've Never with liquor is begging for alcohol poisoning."

Alicia holds up the unchristened bottle of beer with a small flourish. A lifting of eyebrows and a theatrical open-mouthed grin. Like Heyyy look what I got!

"We can use this." Theatrics over: "You go first."

Serafíne

(Who's out there?)

Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 6 )

Elijah

He looked ready to applaud the abundance of booze that was zoning, a second forty was certainly just as good as the first one and he had to be one hundred percent certain that this was going to be delicious so he had to be sure.

"I'm starting… okay… I've never… been ice skating," true story, too, the young man fell through and possibly died (probably died), but ice skating? Not something he seemed too keen on.

Alicia

It takes her a few seconds to think of the rules. If you've never done it you get to not drink. That's simple.

But then she has to stop and think if she has ever gone ice skating. Of course she has. D.C. in the wintertime. Ice skating rinks all over the place and the cold cold weather come off the Potomac and the Atlantic Ocean both and sometimes her mother would drive her up to Manhattan just to get away from one city to see another and she had to have been very young then if she remembers her mother holding her hand while she wobbled on her skates.

Alicia takes a bracing swallow of beer and stifles a belch.

"I've never been on an airplane."

Elijah

"This was a bad idea," Elijah informed the young woman with a grin on his face. His constant companion, he reveled, oh how he reveled in those moments that were bad ideas. He puts out his hand like a toddler and opens and closes it like he wants the beverage.

If he put his hands above his head and opened and closed them in the same fashion, it would mean that the six foot tall young man wanted someone to pick him up. He hadn't been picked up in years, not that he really minded, but sometimes, there were memories of being young and small and held. Sometimes, there were memories of feeling protected and cherished in such a fashion as those who were young.

Down the hatch with it. One to one, it would seem.

"Iiiii… haaaave… never eaten Korean food."

Serafíne

Eight degrees out and the sort of near-baking sun at midafternoon that says: summersummersummer and the skin of the park and the brilliance of the sky and the strangers, the strangers, the strangers out and about, picnicking or boating or playing ultimate or maybe adult kickball or sunbathing or running, stripped down to next to nothing, t-shirts knotted around the waist and nothing on top or maybe a sports bra and an armband for the iPhone and dogs on leashes and dogs in bandanas and kids on leashes and kids in bandanas and homeless guys sharing oversized bottles of cheap mouthwash and kids playing I've never with a goddamned forty ounce of beer because neither of them were carrying a flask.

Amateurs.

---

Here are two strangers strolling down the jogging path except they aren't strangers and they sure as hell don't look like they belong on a jogging path. One of them is wearing pastel madras shorts, belted, beneath a vintage Pixies t-shirt and colorful leather flipflops. The other is wearing a teeeny tiny leopard print bikini top (the fabric basically a suggestion that does not so much cover her breasts as give them something with which to play an engaging game of peek-a-boo) and a short sarong wrapped around her waist. She has paired this with wrist full of leather and spiked leather bracelets and large, clunky combat boots and a strange strap slung 'round her neck joined by a silver carabiner and she looks and feels divine.

Is divine, probably.

The guy in the madras shorts has an arm slung around her shoulders. Isn't he always holding her up?

What would she do without him?

--

Ooooh, look, she tells him, without saying a word. People.

Let's go thatway.

Alicia

"How have you never eaten Korean food?"

That's not how the game works. She glowers at him through her sunglasses but she can't even be really mad at him. That's just sad. As she accepts her fate Alicia cuts him a sly forgiving grin and pantomimes snatching the bottle from him.

Swig.

"I've never actually returned a book to the library."

Elijah

[Do I feel someone?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 6, 6, 8, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )

Alicia

[i hate both of you]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Elijah

There is a sort of innocence in their debauchery, and it was something that Elijah could enjoy because he wasn't going to black out or wake up with a second tattoo (because the first one had not exactly been the easiest thing to go about doing and it wasn't exactly planned) and he wasn't going to wake up missing a kidney. Both have been valid concerns in the past.

How could he have never had Korean food?

Elijah snickered, "what? Is it that astounding that I've never eaten Korean food?" he is handing the bottle back and no sooner is she finishing a swig off that he's reaching for the bottle back and the young man's attentions are off in the distance and-

"Auugh, come on, I even worked at a library, you have to bring the books back! It's a library-" swig, chug, swallow don'tburpdon'tburp "-not a book store. And I've never done time in jail or juvenile hall."

Alicia

When she laughs it comes out sounding like Heh heh heh! Pleased and a bit wicked. Like he walked right into that one.

And when he lays does his next card Alicia smothers a victorious little smirk and cants her eyebrows at him.

"Neither have I," she says. A beat. "I've never kissed a girl, either."

Serafíne

Eighty degrees not eight degrees and the path shifts and paths always shift. How many times in your life do you ever end up where you mean to be. Where you were meant to be. Their shadows are lengthening and they leave the path and now there's grass beneath her feet and his, and they are talking about something that feels private even though it is not, just because of how close they remain each to each.

He is more than a half-foot taller than her, so she can lean her golden head against his chest when she gets tired.

--

So. They're here. Hello boy and girl. Hello audience.

"You've never kissed a girl?"

Elijah

"Ahhhh, you should tryyyy iiiiit, if it appeals to you in the slightest because I can tell you, from personal experience, that it is very, very fun. Girls have a tendency to be softer and smell nicer than guys," which is also true, but he knows he won't have to answer the I've never kissed a man question with a drink because Alicia wasn't going to ask a question that she very clearly had done.

It would break the rules. And they've kissed so, clearly, she's kissed a dude.

His gaze goes distant for a second, and he sits up like he is a meercat, a little straighter, a little sudden, and his attention goes from distant to sharp and his mind goes intent and he feels something. There is a strangeness in that because he turns in Sera's direction before she even come into earshot. He feels everything. He feels everything that came through everything that was going to come through, and for a second his gaze was sharp and then switched to something wide eyed and almost overwhelmed and then?

Then, he smiled awestruck at a feeling.

"Hey Sera," he said, raising a hand, but it was an effort. "Alicia, this is Sera, knows some of the best parties."

A beat.

"And I've never had anything professionally waxed."

Alicia

You've never kissed a girl?

Alicia's hair is spilling down her back between her shoulders and some of it slides over her arm as she turns her head to sight the owner of the voice. Mild lingering gratitude stains what of her face the consor and the Cultist can see. She remembers them. They gave her a ride when she fell asleep on the train. Elijah doesn't know that. He introduces them anyway.

"We're playing I've Never," she says to the newcomers. "Elijah is losing. Or... winning, I guess, since he's..." She looks back at him and laughs a light ringing laugh that shows teeth. A laugh she didn't look capable of laughing a week ago when she was sitting outside an organic store in the suburbs smoking and trying not to cry. "Are you drunk? I hope you're not. I can't carry you." She looks back at them. "Hi, Dan. Thanks again for the ride."

Serafíne

There's Elijah, feeling everywhere, everywhen, everything. The music of the spheres and the faint, receding curl of a something three-days old, each little divot in reality, all the many ways they bend the world out of its well-rutted tracks, all the ways they curve space-time around them. Sera strangest of all, most deviant of all, all tear-your-guts-out and mesmeric and caught-on-the-cusp of something about to happen, shift or change. The brief and shadow of a kind of wildness beneath her dark blue eyes that seems both older and harder than her twenty-something frame.

And Sera is sort of straightening and flashing Elijah this threading, supple half-smile and Dan is uncoiling his arm from around Sera's shoulders to help her stand upright and she's making her shoulders recurve backward because she does not wanna stand upright, damnit, that is not fair, and Sera says,

"You can't really get drunk on a forty," with a quiet little grin. " - not one you're sharing," a mildly arch look to Elijah. "Can you?"

--

"No problem," Dan to Alicia, a grin bisecting his beard. Then, the tattooed guy extends a hand to Elijah, who may or may not remember him if he ended up back at Sera's the other night, but anyway - "Dan." The briefest smirk at Sera as Alicia reports that they are playing I've never. "We'll just spectate, I think. I'm not sure it's possible to beat Sera at that game. I'm not sure there's anything in the world she's never done."

Elijah

Could he get drunk off a forty he was sharing?

"You know I'm a light weight-" comparatively speaking "-we're probably going to end up vaguely buzzed. I'm trying to avoid getting arrested for public intoxication. We're one forty in on this."

He vaguely remembered Dan. he vaguely remembered Dan's beard, which was a weird thing to remember but he did remember being absolutely fascinated by the texture and laughing entirely too hard at soothing the man said. He didn't know why, but he concluded that he liked Dan. He didn't remember what his name was, or where he was ever going to see the man again, but he knew that he liked Dan, even if he didn't feel things the way Elijah and Sera felt them.

Whatever the case, though, Dan? That guy was fuckin' cool.

"Elijah," he offers again, because he finally placed the guy's name, and he's still wide eyed and buzzing on something entirely different and one can't be entirely certain if it's some kind of substance but the feeling? The notice, the heart pounding, jaw dropping feeling of everyone and anything that passed through was nothing short of wondrous. His awe-tinged gaze flickers to Alicia, to Sera, to the sky.

"C'mon, there's gotta be something you haven't done," he says.

Alicia

"Nah, see, that's the beauty of it."

This to Dan who thinks they can just spectate.

"If I'm like, 'Yo, I've never been camping,' or something, but she was in Girl Scouts or something and is like 'Aw, fuck, I earned the hell out of that fire-starting badge, she'd have to drink. Everybody's got plenty of things they haven't done."

She wants to pet Elijah's lightweight head because his hair is soft and they're outside and it doesn't really mean anything anyway. So she pets Elijah's lightweight head.

"This is the last time I'm gonna be able to say 'I've never smoked weed in a park,' because I'm gonna roll a joint in a minute. So we're wasting prime drinking time, here."

Serafíne

Dan is not a light weight, only because he knows his own limits and follows them in ways the rest of them probably cannot quite imagine. Designated driver, designated hair-holder, designated nightmare soother, designated tea-maker, designated egg-scrambler, designated everything, and he doesn't fucking mind.

Older than the rest of them, too.

God, not long from now (in the relative scheme of things) and he'll be fucking thirty.

"You only have one forty," he grins, quick. "That'll disappear real fast if you play your game with Sera."

Sera, meanwhile, has risen to her tip-toes and pressed her mouth to Dan's bearded jaw. Nose against his cheekbone, mouth smiling. She inhales him pleasantly and pats him casually on the ass and there's something tinged about the interaction. Lingering, thoughtful that Elijah might sense and Alicia might overlook.

"I'll play," Sera says taking a cross-legged and thoroughly unladylike seat whereever. On whatever. "I've never graduated from high school."

The briefest pause, the smallest smirk. "Or even been in the first place."

Elijah

"Basically, I've Never is the game where everyone wins because either you didn't have the most points when the game was over or you got really shithoused while you were playing and goddammit it's like you follow me on Twitter or something," he took the bottle back and took a drink.

And he's content to play and Sera said she would play. There's a big, bright grin on his face, content to keep going with his companions but soon enough there was the second question and Elijah looked up at the sky, "this is going to go away pretty quickly, I can already tell we should have cleaned out the seven eleven."

He took another drink and then looked Alicia's way. He offered the bottle to see if she wanted it. He didn't even bother to see if Sera hadn't spoked a joint in the park before.

Alicia

Alicia doesn't have to drink because she's the one who said she'd never been camping. She'd never smoked a joint in the park.

And she doesn't take the bottle when Sera says she's never graduated high school.

"Are you allowed to chain them like that?" she asks with a teasing edge like she knows damned well the rules are made up and the points don't matter. As she takes the forty from Elijah she says, "Dad yanked me out of school when I was fourteen. He said I wasn't learning anything anyway because my teachers were unenlightened toads and the gum stuck to the bottoms of the desks soaked up more of their hogwash than the kids sitting in them did."

Glug. Think. Laugh.

"I've never gone to church."

Elijah

Elijah took another drink.

Serafíne

Oh, Sera drinks.

There's not much left in the forty and anyway the truth is Sera actually has pretty good taste and does not fucking like the kind of beer that comes from the 7-11 in fourty ounce aluminum cans except of course when it is eighty degrees and sunny and park and drinking game. Whereever they are sitting she leans back, gives Alicia enough of her attention and bites her lower lip and the point of the game is to get drunk, right? Right?

Sera has figured that much out, spectacular creature that she is.

"I've never made out in a church."

--

Which is not true, so Sera drinks, and offers what remains to anyone else who cannot say that, and somehow Dan has come to settle behind her and she leans back against him all loving and gives him a look and he gives her a flask.

Now they can play the fucking game.

And Sera will play it her goddamned way.

Alicia

Never gone to church. Never been in a church. Never made out in a church.

Alicia is leaning with the hand that had been petting Elijah's hand planted on the ground behind him. It's a masculine way to lean but for the fact that her chest presses against his arm when she has to lean over to grab the bottle. Which she doesn't have to do this round. Her hair tickles his elbow when the breeze sees fit to drift it nearer to him.

She likes the way Dan and Sera are so easy with each other. They must have known each other a long time.

"I think it's your turn, Twitter," she says to Elijah.

Elijah

He stops, triumphant, and the grin he wears on his face is one tinged with the satisfaction of knowing that he doesn't have to drink this time.

"Ha! I have not made-"

He is suddenly reminded of getting to first base for the first time at church camp and Elijah's triumph is short-lived. He sighed, not so much dejected as resigned that there was a good chance that he was going to end up drinking a fair bit. He was content to be petted, and at some point Elijah scooted a little closer to Alicia so that his thigh was touching hers. Her hair brushes his arm in the breeze and he takes the opportunity to relocate it to her opposite shoulder side.

And, y'know, to let his hand linger casually across the bare places on her back and reside closer to her.

"I've never been in a spelling bee."

Serafíne

Spelling bee? Spelling bee?

Sera, alas, does not drink get to drink because she has never been in a fucking spelling bee. Spelling bee. Hmmph.

Lingering bemusement in the edge of her gaze as Elijah exclaims all triumphant and is then forced to - well -

"I've never gotten stoned and had sex in a floating house in Rio."

--

And she drinks, from the flask now.

Of course she does.

Alicia

A spelling bee. Embarrassing silent confession time. She reaches over to take the forty from Elijah. His reward for that awful round is her breast pressing against his arm as she takes a good swallow.

Well shit if that's how Sera wants to play I've Never:

"I've never dropped acid and then gone to the movies."

Glug.

Elijah

"Man, I wanna have sex while stoned in a floating house in Rio," he says, "and I wanna drop acid and go to the movies… both of these things sound fan-fucking-tastic."

The game has changed, the game has most assuredly changed and he grinned while he tried to come up with something that he "hadn't done" and the young man bit his lower lip while he thought. He isn't embarrassed in the slightest.

"I've never had a three way in a county courthouse," he says.

And gulp.

Serafíne

Here are some secrets:

Sera drinks (from her flask) for Alicia's I've Never and gives the younger girl this curling edge of a quiet little smirk. Elijah, though.

"A county courthouse? Fuck. I wanna do that," she swings her head closer to Dan, slewing him a half-lashed glance. And asks him, quietly, beneath her breath, " - have I ever done that?"

He laughs. Kisses the crown of her head.

Nuzzles her a bit, and gets some of her blond curls a bit caught in his beard. "I don't think you've ever been near a county courthouse, Sera."

She looks -

- disappointed.

"I've never slowed time to a looping crawl while stoned at the movies so that I could watch the Victorian dancing girls in the opening shorts that much longer much to the dismay of a certain bookseller who apparently doesn't like dancing girls."

Drink.

Alicia

At Elijah's confession a bafflement comes across Alicia's face. Like not only has he been inside a county courthouse but he's had a threeway in one. She hasn't done any of those things.

"Okay," she says as she reaches for the near-dead bottle now that Elijah's nearly done with it, "I'm defaulting to old-school rules, y'all are insane."

The specific nature of that thing Sera has never done makes Alicia laugh. Time to roll a joint. She hauls her handbag closer.

"Wait, who are you talking about? Adam?"

Serafíne

(bbiab!)

Elijah

"I told you I'd done some crazy, crazy stuff after shit hit the fan- I mean, not-" this is when it finally hits him what it was that Sera said she had done and he just stared. His brain was gone. Blown, and he could just barely imagine how that happened and-

"Wait, who is Adam?"

Serafíne

"Mmm." Sera hums her confirmation, it lives beneath her skin and she's smiling at Alicia, she remembers how her mouth works. The sun slips in the sky as it always does. She feels both hollowed out and expansive and lovely, and takes a deep breath and takes another sip from her flask (whiskey, burn) and watches with this sense of molasses-slowness as Alicia rolls the joint. "I do mean Adam."

The punk-ass book jockey himself.

"He's another one of us," Sera says, to Elijah, murmurs, her mouth a wry little curl of an expression, "owns a bookstore. Has a ferret named Ruse. Not like me, though. Hermetic.

"And yeah. With enough time, I guess you can do anything, with your mind and your will. See? You just have to believe in yourself and listen to yourself rather than all those other fucking assholes telling you whatever it is is not fucking possible.

"I could do it now. If you want."

Alicia

Hearing that Sera can manipulate time catches the small girl's attention she who has not drank near so much or so fast as Elijah has who wears sunglasses even though they're in the shade and lets her hair fall down over one shoulder so it will not tickle her new friend as they sit close to each other. Alicia looks up from her intermediate-level rolling to look at the woman.

"You can stop time?" she asks. Awe in her voice. Not at the prospects of time being stoppable but at Sera knowing how. She walks it off by looking back down at the joint. Licking it so she can secure it. "Can you move through it, too?"

Strange how the presence or absence of emphasis can give a sentence more meaning. The pronoun and the inclusive. That's what catches her attention. Like she thought time travel was all bullshit before. Like she wants to hear more.

Youths still have the ability to want without regret. They can't look forward and see what themselves looking back would have done different. Sitting here day-drunk and easy in the presence of people she knows little about and yet knows enough she thinks she might be able to trust them. She doesn't know if she will or won't regret it one day. Freedom in that. Her father wasn't free.

Alicia puts the entire joint into her mouth and draws it through her pursed lips to make sure it will stay closed and holds it out as an offering to whomever dares take it first. She's got a lighter in her bag somewhere. Yes she does.

Elijah

"And what are you?"

He doesn't realize that question is potentially rude. You can't just ask people what they are, that just seems… well… mean. And a little rude and just a tad on the awkward side. You ask people who they are, how they are, where they are, and when they are going to be somewhere but you rarely ask someone what they are. Even worse, asking someone why they are. No, not why they are doing something. Why are you? But the question is posed so innocently that Elijah has no idea that some things are just painfully obvious.

Sera could do it now, if they wanted, and he wonders for a second. He muses, he tries to figure out if this is something he would like to see (of course it is, but who could blame him? It seems cool!) Alicia's voice and her gaze is tinged with awe, excitement, at being delighted at the prospect of knowing someone who could slow down time to a crawl and potentially move through it.

"I think I'd wanna see that," he says, but he has a plan.

Of course he has a plan, because Alicia is taking the joint from her lips and offering it to whomever may take it first, which Elijah does without any hesitation. She has the presence of mind to look for her lighter and Elijah, darling boy, has a plan and it does not involve her looking for her lighter. No, because some part of him says that if he plays it out just right, if he presses his lips to Alicia's while the world slows down, it may be different, it may feel like an eternity, and it is at once desire and delight and anticipation that makes him go for it.

Besides, the joint was rolled already. Anyone with a lighter could light it, but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Like kissing the young woman next to him. In front of Sera and Dan.

Serafíne

Do di do. Calling it without witnesses. Lowering difficulty by taking her damned time, uh, resonance appropriate, and practiced.

Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (3, 3, 3) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Booo. Extending.

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (1, 4, 7) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Boooooo. Extending.

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (1, 3, 8) ( success x 1 )

Serafíne

GODDAMNIT SERA DO SOMETHING RIGHT.

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (5, 5, 8) ( success x 3 )

Alicia

[Shhh Sera don't listen to Liz you do lots of things right we love you]

Serafíne

"I'm a Seer."

Somehow in her mouth it sounds as much like she's saying see-er as seer, and that is what she tells Elijah, when she asks him what she is, and that is all she tells him, and it is more than she tells anyone, ever, even though every fucking person with any experience with the Traditions and their second cousin twice removed can guess, exactly, what Sera is, and how, and why.

And how Time moves for her,

which is - often - slowly.

Elijah kisses Alicia. There's a rolled joint somewhere and anyone with a lighter can light it and someone with a lighter does light it and it is neither Elijah nor Alicia because one is kissing the other and both can feel some slow-shift in the air around them. It feels like molasses, or perhaps that is the taste of it in the back of their throat, this stitch of hesitation between the seconds that they are slowly unpacking and restacking, this stitch that grows into a knot, a knot that contracts until there is a bottleneck and each second feels like - god.

Another.

And another.

He can hear his heartbeat. He can hear the spaces between his heartbeat. So can she.

There's no now but now.

Everything simply: is.

Alicia

No answer from Sera but Sera is a Seer and that says plenty. Says as much as she can focus on when the joint leaves her hand and everything starts to slow and turn to body and sensation and as she turns her head to see why Elijah is moving his lips are on her mouth and oh.

Maybe she would like one day to see things like this coming but the surprise of it is part of the fun. Elijah can feel her laugh against his mouth and she ought to possess some modesty but what is youth for if not for immodesty.

She does not know Sera. Maybe Sera would not make out with Dan or Elijah or with her in front of anyone else. But Alicia is not Sera and neither of them none of them have to answer to anyone but themselves.

And then there is no answer. Only this.

Moving her hand to the back of his neck puts his pulse in her palm and it takes so long to turn the impulse into action but she does and it does and the breeze moves so slow through her hair against the bareness of her skin. In the slowness she can taste the strength it takes to do this and maybe she covets. Maybe later she will cover.

But now can last a very long time and she is in no rush.

Elijah

He knows how many times his heart beats in a minute and he knows how loud and insistent it is, he knows how his heart is prone to racing and he feels everything slowing down and down and downward still and he knew there would be magic before it happened, and that was in the most literal of senses. He pressed his lips to Alicia's and he did as so man other men feel when they kiss a beautiful woman- he feels time slow to a crawl.

It's funny, feeling time slow, feeling the spaces between his heartbeat grow larder, even though he knows there is no reason for his heart to slow. No, Elijah knows that this is punctuation. This lets him know something true- the things that come before, the things that come after? Sometimes, those things can fade until there is nothing more than a moment. Until things simply are and the moment is. Neither good nor bad, simply wonderful Remarkable. Breathtaking.

His pulse should be pounding, and heavens he knows better than to do these types of things but he is too busy savoring the cool feeling of the slow, slow breeze and the gesture of her hair and the way that it feels when his lips part and Elijah Poirot tests to see if she would let him explore because it feels like an eternity in those few breaths and he knows better than to think of anything other than right now. He's reminded he is alive.

Live, live because you die tomorrow.

He remembers the rest of what the Voice told him, something small that he forgets in moments of terror because he is so far removed from those moments right now that he can remember. Live because I can not. Live or die. Live. This is living, this moment is a reminder of being alive, something that wasn't grim and woeful but reverent and joyful, At some point, he will pull back, and that time may be soon, but he was lost in the now.

That was the point, wasn't it?