it's a sliding scale. [elijah]

Elijah
Elijah is not calling Ian.

Elijah is not calling Ian for very specific reasons. he is not calling Ian because he knows damned good and well that he could have run and things would have been fine (they might not have been fine, he didn't know that, there was a guy having a psychotic break that Elijah was trying very desperately to keep up with in case he wandered off somewhere and got in some deep shit). He wasn't calling Ian because this was falling into the realm of things that he wasn't quite ready to talk to his friend about, because he doesn't want to lose his shit in front of Ian.

Elijah is not calling Kalen.

He could have called Kalen, but some part of him that is quiet and bitter or simply understanding knows that Kalen can't fix this. Kalen can't fix this and the likelihood of Kalen Holliday showing up when Elijah needed him was… well, that wasn't fair. When Elijah genuinely needed Kalen, he was there. In most instances, he just seemed to realize that, perhaps, he didn't need Kalen at that juncture. Now was not the time to work through his incredibly complicated relationship with his former mentor and he sure as fuck wasn't going to try and alert the Order just yet because- because-

Because he didn't want to lose his shit in front of people that he was trying to impress. Doesn't want to explain why he felt it necessary to use incredibly vulgar magic in front of a stranger who could have been a sleeper to render some fiend's creation to a pile of charred bits and mostly ashes into- fuck. He can't even think in a complete sentence. Can't call Sera because Sera will come and Sera will help and she's done enough, she'd bleed herself dry and he's seen her do that too recently to ask her to do it again. (He'd never ask her to, the more he thinks about it the more he realizes his feelings towards the Cultist are complicated in how uncomplicated they are. We digress.)

He calls Kiara, though. He calls Kiara because she has a level head. Because Kiara will tell him if something is bullshit, even if he bats his eyelashes and asks nicely. Kiara, in his mind, seems like the type who can handle a crisis.

So.

ring ring.

KiaraThere are other people Elijah could have called. Better people, perhaps. Those he was closer to, had been through darker times with, understood and connected with on a deeper level. But then, that was, in part, the hardest part about calling them after things get messy and there's aftermath to cope with. Sometimes the last people in the world we ever want to see us at our worst are the ones that matter the most to us.

There's a psychology to that, buried somewhere.

A very human response to mayhem and disorder. To disaster and near loss. So - he doesn't call Ian. Or Kalen. Or even Serafine. He calls a phone that begins to trill and vibrate across a low coffeetable in Denver's heart. The screen lights up with Elijah's name and a picture the Verbena has taken of him at some point in their interactions; a half blurred capture of the fair haired man's face; some smiling; frozen in perpetual motion capture - somehow perfectly imperfect and suited to the tumultuous Initiate seeking her tonight.

"Wait, wait, wait. Shit." There's footsteps, barefoot and hurried, Kiara appearing from her bedroom in a wash of steam and a dark green towel; moisture still clinging to her shoulders and neck. She scoops the phone up in one hand; water dripping down to puddle on polished floorboards as she answers in a rush, breathless with the anticipation to pick up the call.

"Hello? I'm here. Who is - " She pulls the phone back, checks the number and settles it into the cradle of her cheek and neck, freeing her hands to rub water off her arms.

"Elijah hey."

ElijahThere are a hand full of people who have pictures of Elijah that don't have the slightest bit of motion blur. He can't sit still. Can't help himself, can't stand the idea of being static, of being stuck and right now he's there. He's waiting and he's watching and someone, somewhere, must be proud of him because this is the most mature, most collected, most direct he's ever been. Elijah exhales, places his hand to his throat for a second and feels the slight sting of a scratch across where his pulse beat- as though the cut had just been an accident and the connection had been for some desperate clawing towards a human connection.

It used to be human. He didn't know that, but in the aftermath he suspected. In the moment where the phone rang and he waited his mind wandered and then-

Elijah, hey.

He laughs and it's a release valve, laughs because it's the only thing he can do and, for a second, he takes a tiny bit of pleasure in the chaos, thinks it adorable because he needs something to focus on that isn't terrible. "Hey," he says, sounds tense and sounds wound tight, "uh… how far are you from Wash park?"

KiaraHey, he says and there's a beat where Kiara pauses because the way Elijah laughs, like it's borne of both relief and anxiety transfers across the line. The brunette transfers the phone to one hand, tucking the edge of the towel beneath another layer and settling on the arm of her sofa. "About thirteen minutes, give or take."

A beat, Kiara can feel beads of water where they drip from her damp hair and trace along her spine; feels a chill that races in their wake and isn't entirely sure it's all to do with sitting half damp from a shower on her sofa.

"Why? What's wrong?"

There should be more panic in the pagan's voice; it shouldn't sound quite as steady as it does, especially for the way her pulse has picked up in response to Elijah's tone.

Elijah[manip+sub, diff 6+2 (because paradox isn't nice and lying to people on the phone is hard)

Dice: 7 d10 TN8 (2, 2, 2, 5, 5, 6, 8) ( success x 1 )

ElijahShe's steady. Her voice is steady and all he can think is that he needs to match that, that he doesn't need to lose his shit just yet because there is already a guy having a psychotic break (Kiara might be able to hear him in the background, someone else talking, pacing, saying something that even Elijah can't quite make out and he's standing there with the dude)

"Okay, so… uh- here goes?" he inhales slowly, reaches for his pocket to take out his watch and at least mark some kind of time with it even though it's only right twice a day. He needs to get it fixed, but he thinks it silly- doesn't need to wind the damn thing to know it can keep perfect time.

"So, it turns out my dealer is a dude who can break reality too, and we're just sitting here in the park and this-fucking- thing comes out of the bushes and it's dead now, but… like… the dude I was with is having a major breakdown here… he's… like… I think he has genuinely had a break from reality and he's hurt and if someone can make sure he's okay I can deal with the body, it's just…" he inhales, sharp. He sounds like he's okay, he sounds like he's holding it together. Like things are going to be okay.

"Things are going to be okay. He's okay, it's just a little messy."

Kiara[Use your skills, Kiara, can you tell he's trying to hold it together? Perception + Alertness, maybe +1 because they are on the phone and she's wearing a towel]

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

KiaraShe doesn't interrupt him.

While he speaks, there's nothing but silence on Kiara's end of the phone and what he can't deduce as he tries so desperately to hold the slivers of his cool together is what the Verbena is thinking as he weaves the pieces of his evening so far together. He cannot see the contours of the brunette's face, half concealed by dark strands of hair where they've slid across her cheek. He cannot see the tension she betrays as she steadies herself on the arm of her sofa.

The way her eyes close for a moment and she listens, mouth a compressed line, brows drawn together.

Things are going to be okay, he finishes with and Kiara sits up a little straighter; draws in a quiet breath and combs her hair over a shoulder. Slides off her sofa and is half way to her bedroom, tossing the towel over the edge of her bed and reaching for her clothing; Elijah can hear the rustle of it as she pulls things on. "Okay, Elijah, I want you to listen, okay?"

There's a subtle thread of concern in the Verbena's voice, but she sounds focused. There's authority, if subdued, in Kiara's voice as she pulls a pair of sneakers on; winding the damp ends of her hair over a shoulder; without product; its going to dry into a thick tangle of waves and cast into greater affect the sense that others got, sometimes, of the young pagan being something slightly other; untamed and wild. "I'm going to come now. I'll drive over. We'll take care of that guy - whoever he is. Whatever attacked you - we can get rid of it. Bury it or destroy it, somehow."

There's the jingle of keys as Kiara starts grabbing items and pushing them into her purse. "Just breathe, okay." Gentler, that. A pause as she stops, settles the phone against her ear more firmly. "I'm on my way now."

ElijahHe doesn't know what to do.

He's not a doctor, all he knows about people having mental breakdowns is that Haldol is a hell of a drug and he can personally attest that being in certain types of institutions fucking sucks and he doesn't want to go back, doesn't want to get this poor guy sent there either because he just saw something fucked up. It tried to eat him. It literally opened its mouth and wrapped it around his shoulder and the wind shifted and he can smell what's left of the body and his stomach turns again.

"There's barely anything left. I-I think that if we just had some, like, heavy duty trash bags or something- I will pay to have your car cleaned, I fucking swear," like he's living at home and puked in his friend's car after drinking too much and not that they were going to be moving a body. It sounds like an apology.

She tells him to breathe, and he does, but not without being told to breathe. He's been holding his breath, not taking anything slow and deep and centering but she said that she was going to come, that they were going to take care of this, and his dealer friend- whose name Elijah can't even recall (had he ever known it?)

"I should call you for things that aren't shitty sometimes."

KiaraThere's a huff of something breathed against the receiver at that; a gust of breath as Kiara pulls a hoodie on over an old college shirt with frayed holes in one shoulder. There are damp patches where her hair rests and she's pulling her apartment door closed and jogging to the elevator as she responds and maybe on some level there's a deliberation to it.

He wasn't a doctor but Kiara was, in a certain manner of speaking. She healed people, put her hands and her energy into their bodies and mended what was frayed; weakened and destroyed. "Things are always shitty, kid. It's just a sliding scale of how badly." There's a muted ding as the doors slide open and the Verbena punches the button to the basement level. Static fluttering across the line as it begins to descend.

"My car will survive, I promise. Are you hurt? How badly is he other than ... " She doesn't say what's she thinking, Kiara, but Elijah can guess what she means: other than his mind. Other than the fact he's separated from reality. Neither one of them can be naive to the dangers that poses; an Awakened without a sense of what was real and imagined.

Elijah"It bit him, and he's bleeding but… It's nothing that I don't think stitches would fix? It's not bad enough that he's gonna bleed out. We both did some pretty vulgar shit so he might be reeling from that?" can't fix the kinds of things reality does, though. It's pretty insistent. Makes sure that it's point is known but in Samir's case perhaps reality was just a tad heavy handed.

Elijah has no fucking clue how lucky he is, or how if things had been a little different he'd be the one losing touch with reality right now. "He won't let me get near him."

Kiara"Okay. I can fix that." She says it with such calm assurance, the brunette, as she unlocks her car door with an electronic chirp and the muted thump of the door closing in her wake; she shifts the phone around under her chin as she deposits her bags on the seat across from her and turns the engine. Elijah can hear the distant rev of the Verbena's engine as it starts.

The sounds of Kiara in motion; there's a reassurance to it. She's on her way. He won't be dealing with - whatever had just happened, whatever was happening, to Samir, on his own for much longer. "Just - hang tight for a few more, okay? I've got to hang up now and drive but I'm on my way."

There's a click as she hangs up and suddenly, Elijah is plunged back into the moment. His tether through Kiara temporarily lost.