Rejuvenation. [Seeking, Howl ST]

Kiara
The drive out to the gathering leaves the Verbena curiously quiet.

It's a focused silence and unusual considering there's a guest in her passenger seat and Kiara was, at the very least, a communicative soul.

She'd exchanged some small pleasantries with Lavinia; smiled and cast the blonde occasional glances but for the duration of the drive - her tiny car winding out through suburbia and beyond; eventually leaving the lights of Denver in their wake; scenery whipping past their windows gradually replaced with the denser outcroppings; the trees gathering; fields with grazing horses replacing the closer press of city design - her fingers are tight around the wheel. The agitation that thrums through her is not aggressive but - distracting - all encompassing.

A drum beat in time with her heart.

It's been a long time since she'd paid heed to the traditions. Not that she'd consider herself above them but - as they climb out of the car; slamming doors; breathing in the night air and smelling - smoke; heavy and cloying - glimpsing the bright flicker of bonfires in the distance; through a thick subset of trees ahead; hear the rise and fall of voices - there's an energy when they gather she hasn't felt the pull toward for years. Not since New York.

Not since Aisling had passed.

The ground is soft beneath their feet as they descend into a small valley; it's a homestead of sorts; out near the outskirts of Morrison; not so distant from the Chantry but this residence is older; ramshackle in places; the wood warping around the porch; the grass beyond the heavy growth of trees that all but conceal the pathway from the drive growing wild and free; tangling around their legs as they find themselves in a clearing; moving into a gathering of people.

There's music coming from somewhere; strangers in all walks of dress and states of celebration moving around; some hanging on the old porch where there are lights blazing within; some lounging on the grass near the small fires; everywhere however; that same sense of reverence; that desire to be close to the earth; to be surrounded on all sides by nature. Kiara loses Lavinia at some point; the moon has dipped out from beneath the overcast; moody evening and a smattering of stars are visible as the brunette toes off her boots; carries them in one hand and finds the small altar that's been set up for the occasion.

Spread out beneath an old; old tree. Candles flickering amidst great bundles of weaved flowers; lain out for the wedding of the God and Goddess. To celebrate the joining of the night and day; the surge of new life.

Kiara bends before it; lowers herself to her haunches and lights one of the candles.

The Four WindsEverywhere Kiara walked here, the air was scented with smoke. In the house: incense. Outside: bonfires. And here beneath the tree, the candle flames flickered in the wind, sending tendrils of grey smoke curling up toward the leaves. It smelled of clean-burning wax and the perfume of woven flowers. The effect was slightly trance-like. Smoke often accompanied dreams and visions. For some, it was a gateway to the spirit world. A dissipation of the boundary between the physical and the ethereal.

It had been a long time since Kiara had attended this kind of gathering, but the memory of it still lived within her bones. For a Verbena, Beltane was a time of growth and protection. A turning of the seasons. Crops were sowed. Livestock let out to pasture. The fire was symbolic. It was meant to guard that which the people held most dear - their very food and livelihoods. It was also a ritual of life. They were here; they had survived another winter. There was joy in that, passionate and unrestrained.

Somewhere, Lavinia was likely enjoying the festivities. Nearby, a group of younger pagans gathered by one of the fires, dancing the way that people dance when no one is looking. A couple of the women were topless, with braided wreaths of flowers in their hair. Other, less exuberant sorts lounged in the grass, sharing drinks and food. The atmosphere was light and joyful. Alone beneath the tree, Kiara was slightly adrift from the people around her. With them, but also apart from them. Her heartbeat was a steady rhythm. Quiet, now, as she sat still beside the candles.

Then the wind picked up, gusting over her in a heady rush of clean, spring air. It made the hair on her neck and arms rise, as though in response to some inner call for movement. The direction of the wind drew her attention South, where a large bonfire burned in the distance. It glowed a bright-hot orange hue, flames licking tall and high into the dark sky. A lone figure stood beside that fire, indistinct but for the illumination of their frame against the firelight.

Something about that fire seemed to call out to Kiara. She could feel its warmth reaching out across the distance, beckoning.

(Come closer.)

KiaraAisling had been the first to tell her about the festivals.

She'd shown her - Sadie and Kiara - what it was to lose yourself in the celebration. To shuck off the inhibitions that clung to people like a thin layer of residue; chaining them to ideas of propriety; acceptableness within society. The first time she'd danced naked - Kiara had felt it; the breeze on her hot skin; the way the wind seemed to wrap around her and encourage her; propel her onwards.

More. More. Yes.

Sadie is absent from her now; she still feels the sense of her sister; the shape and surety of her presence out there but its indistinct; a shadow flickering on the wall. Neither drawing or keeping the brunette as she closes her eyes for a moment; feels that wind as it rushes over her; sends her unbound hair cascading over her shoulders.

Raises the hairs on her body.

She sees the bonfire in the distance when her eyes open again; looks at it; the haze and glow of the fire making the shape beside it warp; shift and change the longer she watches. There's a hesitation only as long as it takes her to push to her feet; to leave them bare; boots on the grass; a glance cast briefly over a shoulder as if to check - to confirm she won't be noticed - as she moves toward the beckoning gleam of the bonfire in the distance.

Her figure lost easily enough in the dark as she starts to pick a trail toward it.

The Four WindsPeople left things in their wake. Memories. Scars. Dreams. Sometimes people made homes for themselves inside each other's hearts, and when they were gone those homes remained behind - vacant. Kiara had spaces within her that belonged to people who were not here with her tonight, but the memory of them felt very close. Aisling had been the one to teach Kiara what these festivals - these rituals - meant, and why they mattered. Even for a young Verbena, so full of change and progress, the Traditions meant something. The seasons, the elements - the Old Gods who commanded them.

Kiara left her boots behind, walking barefoot through the grass as she made her way toward the fire. Beneath her toes, the ground felt warm. Blades of grass prickled softly against her ankles. If she focused - if she let her toes dig into the earth and connect to it - she might almost be able to feel some kind of heartbeat. Deeper than her own. Older. (The world was alive.)

As she walked, the sound of voices seemed to dim behind her, swallowed by the wind. The house disappeared. The people faded. She was alone now, apart from that shadow by the fire. But as she walked, the indistinct presence of her sister - of Sadie - seemed to grow fuller in her chest. As though she were drawing near. (As though she was there, somewhere.) The fire seemed to get bigger as Kiara approached. Its heat was bold and radiant. And then the figure turned to look at her, and Kiara recognized Sadie's face.

She smiled, basked in the bright glow of the flames as they roared and crackled behind her. "Sister, come... run with me!"

Maybe it wasn't really her, but her resonance felt so familiar. She jogged forward and reached out her hand for Kiara to take, beckoning toward the vast expanse of nature that stretched out around them. At night, the landscape might have looked like something out of a horror film (dark and wild and dangerous,) but for a Verbena? It was a time of high magic. The field they were in was wide and sloping, rolling hills and windswept grass, and surrounded on all sides by a thick pine forest.

KiaraThey all fell away.

The people. The sounds of celebration. The sudden stillness was louder in many ways than the party itself had felt. All but the steady pulse of her heart; the sound of her breathing as she walked; her feet sinking into tender earth; blades of grass and soil clinging to her bare heels as she moved; a single, solitary figure trekking toward that bonfire; toward the sense of - was it home? It was comfort; familiarity but something else, too - inevitability.

Something deeper. Older. Eternal.

There's the spark of fear, somewhere, a hitch to the way she's letting the air fill her lungs; expand her chest. A near-falter as that flickering; indistinguishable sense of the dark-haired woman she'd long since considered her sister; her other half; the death to her life; the resilient; persistent thrum that she'd come to associate with Sadie intensified. It was crushed leaves and newly turned earth; the full moon under city skies; blood of her blood. The remembered lick of flame and the burning; searing pain of awakening.

It was lines of blood drawn on palms; smeared together and the easy vitality of kinship.

The fire looms before her and the Verbena - stops; lets her eyes close - reaches out with fingers unfurling at her sides as if to ward off (invite?) the heat of that bonfire. It dances color back into her skin; the licking flames; the bright glow of it as she lets her senses expand; feels Her beneath her; above her; the vitality of the trees; the deep strength of their roots.

The surety of Sadie's presence. Like a key turning in the lock.

Kiara's eyes open and she watches the figure turn; feels the beginning of some spark of anticipation; feels the surge of adrenaline as Sadie (not her Sadie, perhaps) reaches for her. It's the evening of rebirth; all around her; her people are in high spirits though she cannot hear them; cannot feel them; or anything in the moment but the rush of yes and now and this as she steps forward; toward that fire; drifts into it - slips her fingers into the clasp of the other woman's.

Her skin prickles. A rush of sensation washes over Kiara.

She runs.

The Four WindsWhen Kiara stepped forward, the heat from the bonfire licked at her skin, scorching hot. If she stayed this close, she might start to burn. But in the brief span of a heartbeat - that moment of stillness before she grasped Sadie's hand - it did not feel painful. Instead it felt like a spark - a fire lit as much from within as without. And then their hands met, fingers interlocking as the two sisters bridged the space between them. Life and Death. The beginning and the end. Maybe it didn't matter if Sadie was really here. In a way, they would always be with each other, regardless of the paths they took.

Kiara felt Sadie's pulse beating in time with her own. And then? They ran.

They ran like children. Like wild horses. Like the very wind itself, racing breakneck over the field. Sadie's voice was a wild, unbidden laugh as the wind danced around them, playing in their hair and whipping at their clothes. It was as if the air was a living, tangible being - something they'd brought to life between them. It swirled in the darkness, making patterns in the grass. Danced and spun and rushed past them as they ran. Urging Kiara ever onward (faster, faster.)

It was a rush; a dynamic surge of vitality. And as the pair reached the edge of the field and broke into the trees, the wind came with them, stirring up a cloud of pine needles. Here the night air was underscored with the rich scent of resin and earth. Moonlight shone down through the branches, illuminating their path. They ought to have tripped on something. The branches should have scratched their arms. The passage here should have been difficult, but it wasn't. Their feet practically flew over the ground, lifted and carried by the wind, and the branches opened up before them.

Finally they reached a small creek, its water bright and clear as it tumbled over moss-covered stones. Sadie slowed to a jog and approached the stream, crouching down to trail her fingers in the water. She was still breathing heavily from the run - less from exhaustion than from exhilaration.

They were at the other side of the forest now. Beyond the creek was a thin scattering of pines, and a slope of open ground that led toward a distant city. The urban skyline looked very far away, another world barely glimpsed through the trees.

"We should turn around. Go back to the fire."

KiaraHer feet should have been cut open; bleeding and aching from dashing over rough; uneven ground. Her hair snagged with twigs and leaves as they ran breathlessly over the ground; her toes sinking into the grass; kicking up great clumps of dirt; leaving imprints in her wake. She should have been uncertain; unfamiliar with the terrain; with the darkness enfolding over everything like some all-encompassing blanket. Snuffing out the easy illumination daylight offer.

Casting everything with an otherworldly; silvery glow. The river has it; Sadie; the girl; this woman has it; her skin almost translucent as she approaches the creek where it gurgles; tricking across the stones; wearing them down; eroding them into re-shaped supports as it wound away into the trees.

Beyond them there's open ground. There's a city; the shape of highrises; the wink of lights far, far away perhaps. Kiara is breathing hard; her eyes fixed on the other woman.

"Why?"

She moves close enough for the water to touch her toes; to re-route itself around the obstacle she places before it. "It's nicer out here. Let's keep going. That way." She looks across; past the creek; through the branches; down into the open. Her mouth hooks into a smile; the first she's had to offer this manifestation.

This phantom come companion.

"I want to keep running."

 The Four Winds
Kiara

Her feet should have been cut open; bleeding and aching from dashing over rough; uneven ground. Her hair snagged with twigs and leaves as they ran breathlessly over the ground; her toes sinking into the grass; kicking up great clumps of dirt; leaving imprints in her wake. She should have been uncertain; unfamiliar with the terrain; with the darkness enfolding over everything like some all-encompassing blanket. Snuffing out the easy illumination daylight offer.

Casting everything with an otherworldly; silvery glow. The river has it; Sadie; the girl; this woman has it; her skin almost translucent as she approaches the creek where it gurgles; tricking across the stones; wearing them down; eroding them into re-shaped supports as it wound away into the trees.

Beyond them there's open ground. There's a city; the shape of highrises; the wink of lights far, far away perhaps. Kiara is breathing hard; her eyes fixed on the other woman.

"Why?"

She moves close enough for the water to touch her toes; to re-route itself around the obstacle she places before it. "It's nicer out here. Let's keep going. That way." She looks across; past the creek; through the branches; down into the open. Her mouth hooks into a smile; the first she's had to offer this manifestation.

This phantom come companion.

"I want to keep running."

[respost for me]

The Four WindsCity skylines were unique. Anyone who'd lived in Denver would likely be able to recognize it from a distance, but this one... seemed indistinct. Its towering architecture gave an expressionistic impression: dark, dusky spires lit from above with the silvery illumination of the full moon. There were no lights in the buildings themselves - no echo of distant traffic. This city was asleep. (Or empty.)

Kiara wanted to keep running. Why turn back now? Why only go to the edge of the forest?

Beside her, the creek babbled and churned. The ground beneath her feet was damp and slightly muddy. Sadie let her fingers play in the current for awhile. When she stood up, she looked at Kiara for a long, silent moment. There was a sense... a look in her eyes, and a feeling in the air, of their connection stretching out. Growing distant again. Not a break (not a detachment.) But a parting.

Even sisters sometimes must go their own way.

Sadie stepped up to Kiara's side and kissed her cheek softly. Then she turned and began to walk silently back the way they came. Within moments her figure melted into the trees... and was gone, leaving only a lingering sense of their shared link (I am always with you.)

If Kiara wished to keep going, she would have to make the rest of the journey on her own.

Kiara WoolfeIt ached, a little. Feeling the tethers between them gather momentum; feeling the stretch as they were tugged against; as Sadie pulled away; the sense and surety of her presence. The comforting touch of someone she understood better than most - the press of her lips to Kiara's cheek has her eyes closing and her fingers curl reflexively at her sides as if to reach to keep her - the ghost of her best friend; her other half - but staying the motion.

She makes some small, aggrieved noise when the other woman pulls away; walks away.

Still, in the distance there's a city and she'd never been a creature well suited to obeying the lines drawn by another in the sand. The brunette only gives her companion's departure a brief moment - a beat of settling loneliness; the familiar pang in her chest; the way her bones seemed to ache a little for it - before she steps across the the creek; her feet splashing through the water; fingers reaching to trace over the trees as she passes; slips down beyond the clearing.

Starts to run again; feeling the burn in her muscles; the flutter and beat of her heart; slamming against her ribcage; feels an acute awareness of her body; the sweat gathering between her shoulder blades; the nape of her neck. She's a runner by practice; understands there's no hope to keep any sense of form climbing past rocks and leafy debris; it's a reckless plummet into the inky darkness -

But she runs, anyway. Feels the familiar surge of anticipation; the flood of adrenaline. She doesn't look back; doesn't linger in the afterburn of Sadie's presence.

She's never been one for that, either.

The Four WindsThe city: it was perhaps less a city than it was the city. As though the essence of all urban landscapes could possibly be distilled into one. (They couldn't, not really. But this was a place of ideas.) Kiara ran towards it in the dark, leaving behind the familiar comfort of the woods - of her sister. She ran and, at first, the wind didn't follow her. But soon she picked up speed, racing against the rough beat of her heart, and there she'd begin to feel it again: gusting over her skin, through her hair... surging forward with a low, challenging howl.

Perhaps distance was a mutable thing here, because one moment the city looked quite far away, and the next... she was there, stepping onto the cold asphalt as towering structures of glass and stone reared up overhead.

But where there ought to have been signs of human life, there was... nothing. No people. No moving vehicles. No lights. No hum of electricity. None of the sounds that made a city a city. The air here smelled overwhelmingly of ash and char. An old fire, long since burned out. The buildings were blackened and half-destroyed. Cars lay littered and broken and abandoned in the streets. Windows were cracked and shattered, their glass decorating the sidewalks here and there like sparkling tears reflecting the moonlight. It was a scene out of some post-apocalyptic storybook. Once, people had lived here. Worked. Played. Loved. Now only a burnt-out husk of their memory lingered.

(Fire did not always protect. Sometimes, it devoured.)

Kiara WoolfeIt's reflexive, as soft, giving earth turns to hard, unforgiving concrete to call out. To stand; catching her breath and staring at the crumbling ruins of a city and ask if anyone is there. There's the wind, pulling at her hair; wrapping the thin material of her skirt around her legs; howling through broken down cars and the jagged, arching cracks in the skyscrapers.

There's remnants of dried leaves; snagged in her clothing from her wild dash through the denser woods that she folds between fingers; that she holds to as she starts to pick a pathway around old; twisted metal; reaching out but shying from laying her hands on the old framework of cars. It's a dead city - not dormant but - empty; a carcass shed of all but the bones; picked dry and aged by the sun.

Kiara has the notion as she steps through the ruined city; that if she were to touch; it would peel away; dissolve into ash. The air is thick with it; it coats her throat as she breathes; walking on. Catching the distorted and unnatural reflection she casts in fractured windows; the glass spidering out with cracks. She stops by one; by the hollow; gaping ruin of a building and touches the tip of her finger to a spike of glass; heavy; dangerous spires formed where it had shattered.

"It's all gone." It's a quiet offer; a murmur of - what - empathy; lament. The scene of decay and death without any sense of purpose. No rebirth. No shoots of weeds springing as nature reclaimed what she was owed. What was hers before the first cobble laid. "There's nothing here."

That, a punctuation; her voice echoing.

The Four WindsSometimes, people made homes for themselves within each other's hearts. And when they left, those homes remained behind, filled with relics but empty of life. That was what this city was like - a relic. Perhaps if Kiara were to enter one of the buildings, she'd find memories of the people who'd used to live there. Half-destroyed photographs. Blackened books. Melted baseball trophies.

Not everything about the world was beautiful. Death, certainly, was not. But nature was like that - it gave life, and it took it away. Often, with little warning or sense of fairness. Humans might imagine that cities protected them from nature, but that protection only went so far.

Perhaps this place could be seen as beautiful, if looked at in a certain light. The angles and planes... the stark loneliness. Kiara felt the emptiness of the landscape keenly. As she walked, she searched for signs of life, but found none. Not even a weed growing up through the cracked pavement.

There's nothing here.

After a time, she reached a road that led deeper into the city. Ahead of her, she could make out the charred remains of what had once been a city park: a large stretch of open space with a dry crater that might have been a lake. To one side of the park lay the skeleton of an old playground, its swings swaying back and forth in the breeze. A few mangled, blackened tree stumps remained along the side of the trail. There was no life left in them, either. Once, the ground there would have been green and lush. Now it was only dark earth, layered with a fine powder of ash.

As the wind died down, the landscape grew still and quiet. Waiting. For what?

Kiara WoolfeThere was something deeply unsettling about empty playgrounds; the swings squeaking faintly as they were moved by the wind; the hush that kept them, suspended and still. It was the lack of laughter that made them seem so eerie. A place created for children; for the sounds of their play; for movement and joy.

For life.

The landscape was still; the silence stifling in her ears as the wind died down; wrapping around Kiara's body; around her senses like a vice; squeezing down; making it harder to breathe; harder to think. The wizened tree stumps drew her eyes as she moved past them; her heels painted black with dirt. She left a muddy; caking trail of it as she walked down; into the crater of what had been, at some point, full of water.

The earth here felt different. The dried cracks in the ground wider; gaping as if the earth had been gasping as it dried; beseeching the heavens for rejuvenation. Kiara shifts to her haunches; dropping a knee down to rest against the ground and places her palm; flat; against the caked earth. Lets her eyes close and listens.

Feels. Pushes with her will against the ground; into it; beneath it. Searching for the spark; the sense of life; stirring; somewhere; deep in the recesses.

The Four WindsThe earth here had a complex smell: full of ash and mineral. It was parched and dry, marred by deep, thirsty cracks. Kiara's feet left tracks in the dusty silt, her bare feet coated in a fine layer of the black char that seemed to coat everything here. The place seemed empty, but was it?

As she knelt down, she pressed her hand to the earth, seeking. And for a while, she found nothing. But then...

It was so small. So easy to overlook. A tiny seed, buried deep beneath the ground. Almost, Kiara missed it entirely. But then she felt it... this tiny flicker of hope. Of germination.

Maybe the thing that Kiara called nothing was really just a possibility. Verbena were gardeners. They knew what was needed to make life grow. Earth (death made for good fertilizer: the ash and the bones... all of those patterns broken down into their base components,) Air, Water.

Something rumbled overhead. Dark clouds, partially obscuring the moon. Kiara's heart gave a few quick, anticipatory beats. She could feel the ozone in the air - the electric current that presaged rain. And then... drops began to fall. First one, then another. Sporadic pin-points that struck her skin and splattered into the parched ash.

Kiara WoolfeShe'd found the promise of life in the house where her mentor had died. Where so many of her coven had; casting; mundane and vulgar tearing at the threads holding everything together; sending feathers from cushions and light-bulbs shattering from their fixtures. It had been the first true taste of it - the electric afterglow of it; the burning; smouldering ruin.

The first occasion she'd had to tender closed the sightless eyes of another Verbena.

There'd been a flowerpot tipped over; the dead and decaying remnants of a flower and somehow; trodden and trampled and yet - enduring; the tiniest shoot of life. The feeble insistence of a new bulb; reaching for strength; building on the decay of its creator; taking life from death. She'd planted it beside Aisling's grave; let it sink its roots deep into the freshly turned earth; take sustenance from the one who'd nurtured it. There was a maudlin poetry to it for Kiara.

Blood on her hands and in the earth. The earth here is not so giving as it had been then; it was old; worn. stubborn and long denied the nourishment it needed. The air gathers potency around her; the hairs on her arms rising; moisture gathering; the humidity of the world before the rain; the throb of the plants; the earth; the ache in her limbs.

She sets her palms into that earth; buries her fingertips in it; presses her thumb against a sharp stone roughly enough to pierce the skin; to feel the sting as blood wells. She gives that back to the earth, too. Her blood; her sweat - her will. Pushing as she sets both knees to the ground; pants into the thick; heavy air.

Rain begin to fall; fat; heavy droplets landing on her neck; trickling over her collarbones; dripping into the earth. Little whirls of dust stirring as the dirt is saturated and Kiara's body; curled down; her eyes closed tight against the gathering storm; that building potency. She was a pagan; a daughter of the earth in more ways than one and this; giving back to the earth; invoking strength; forging new life from the dust and bone of the old; was her calling.

The circuit; the pulse of energy; feeding into the ground where Kiara pushed into it; against it. Giving the hollowed out; empty city the spark within her.

Somewhere, her brothers and sisters were celebrating. Their voices rising into the night; dancing to the rhythm of the world as it turned; throwing fodder to the bonfires to spark the flames. Kiara's heart beat as if in sympathetic time to it; the ancient drums; the sacred rituals.

Return.

Was it a whisper or a thought; a prayer; a chant. Invocation.

The Four WindsThe earth here was so thirsty. Starved of that nourishing element that rained down from the sky. Aching for life, for rejuvenation. It was a never-ending cycle: birth, life, death... and rebirth. People mourned the losses, because they hurt, and because they mattered. All of the life in this city had mattered, from the people to the trees to the birds and the rats. Even the insects. And the ash and bone they left behind would fuel the new life that was to come.

Life was sacrifice. Blood in the earth.

Kiara bled for this place - this city that was all cities and was also a home she carried with her in her chest. She had been bleeding for this place. And now it felt as though it might bleed her dry. She buried her hand in the dirt and felt the earth pull the blood from her veins, desperate and hungry. Her heart beat harder, sending blood spilling out into the ground to mix with the rainwater. When the wind came back, it was much more than a gust of breeze - it was a rush of chaotic, vital energy. It howled past her with a force that sent her hair whipping like fire and the ash and dust billowing into the sky in thick clouds. The sediment made her cough, but it cleared as the wind swept it away.

There. She could feel it. A pulse. The seed. The earth. Life. Strength. It coursed through her, filled her even as it drained her (devouring and rejuvenating.) And with that strength she poured everything she had into this act of rebirth. The sky thundered. Lightning cracked across the clouds. Rain fell thickly onto the parched earth.

Beneath the ground, the seed began to grow. It burst through the crack in the sediment in a bright shoot of verdant green, winding upward, outward, branching out until it became a sapling. And then a tree. The roots coiled into the ground, burrowing around Kiara's feet as the trunk got wider and wider; as the branches reached up toward the storm. And then... the clouds parted. Behind them, the sky grew light as the rain trickled to a slow end. It was dawn, and there, finally, was the sun, shining down through the leaves.

When she looked around, Kiara would find the landscape much changed. The blackened city was covered in green: fresh shoots of grass, crawling vines, moss, flowers growing out of every crack and crevice.

Life was all around.

Kiara WoolfeWhen she finally pulls her hands out of the ground; they're covered in soft; vital earth. It feels damp between her fingers; the coarse granules of newly turned dirt; the earthy; sweet aroma of the world after the rain. The nearly audible hum of satisfaction in every drop of rain where it fell from the flowers in fresh bloom around her; the grass; the insects; the worms turning and writhing in sudden; greedy abandon.

Kiara is filthy; her hair wild and matted; buffeted by the wind; the rain; the earth. She's as much a vision of some ancient pagan as she'll ever seem; her legs folded beneath her; fingers idly caressing her palms as she cranes her head back; feels the first touch of sunlight on her face; the pulse of life around her; within her.

Connected to her.

It's not without cost, though. Her limbs feel wobbly and unsure as she pushes to her feet; as if the earth had taken her offering and pulled the deepest draughts possible from her veins. Heavy; total exhaustion washing through her and yet - there's a smile; there's a weight that lifts; the invisible hands choking off her ability to breathe are gone - the air is purer, now.

Rejuvenated.

She lays her hands on the tree; strokes her fingertips over the rough bark as tenderly as if it were a newborn. Reaches down and picks one of the flowers; weaves it into her hair; securing it behind an ear. There's a reverence to the way she touches everything, now. The city was in bloom; nature returning to claim back the towering buildings; to curl vines and bring spiders to spin webs in the broken glass.

There was a balance.

When she moves throughout the city now; she lets her fingers brush the edges of moss covered walls. Lets dirt and blood and sweat linger like tiny imprints of her presence.

The Four WindsLife returned to the city, and Kiara moved through it with a sense of awe and reverence. Not running this time, but touching, exploring, leaving tracks in her wake. This place was hers. This life.

Distantly, she heard a laugh, bright and high-pitched, and when she came around a bend she saw children running through the street. They had flowers woven into their hair. Some of them came loose as the children ran, drifting free on the breeze. Nearby, a mother stood watch. When she saw Kiara, she raised her hand in quiet acknowledgement. Behind her, Kiara felt a stir - a delicate rustle in the wind. Warm and peaceful. And for a heartbeat, Aisling's resonance washed over her.

And then it was gone. It felt like a goodbye.

Kiara blinked, and the world around her grew softer, more dreamlike. Gradually it faded, and everything went dark and still.

Then she opened her eyes, and she found herself lying on a soft bed of green beneath a pine tree. It was morning, and the scent of dying embers clung to the air. A bright assortment of wildflowers had sprung up around her where she lay, waving gently in the breeze.

The Four Winds[When Kiara wakes up, she will have Arete 3, Life 3, and all of her Quintessence will be spent.]

Beltane. [Ian, Lavinia, Jo, Grace]

Ian
[Jae-shin's Dex+Brawl]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) Re-rolls: 1

Ian[Ian's Dex+Brawl]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 4 )

IanWashington Park was full of visitors today - the lush, green landscape dotted with joggers and frisbee players, college kids playing basketball, boisterous children playing hide and seek in the trees and elderly couples walking hand in hand by the lake. The weather was lovely, a welcome change of pace from the cold snap that had hit earlier in the week. The evening sun was a warm golden glow shining through the trees. Ian and Jae-shin were sparring in the grass near one of the flower gardens. Maybe it was the weather (that infectious thrill of spring,) but the today the practice had an air of playfulness about it. Ian grinned as they danced around each other, breathing hard. His pulse beat out a rough rhythm in his ears, and sweat shone on his exposed skin. He had on a pair of tapered silver athletic pants, but was otherwise shirtless and barefoot. His toes dug into the soft earth before he lifted off in a tight, predatory spring.

The attack was swift and elegant, but Jae-shin was just fast enough to block it. After a series of swift blows, Jae-shin finally managed to land a hard kick to Ian's side. Ian exhaled roughly at the impact only to dance away, shaking his head with a laugh.

"Careful, I might start fighting for real."

Jae-shin's expression was quietly challenging.

SerafíneAwareness.

Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 2

Jo Hamilton[Jo Hamilton uses SPLASH!]

SerafíneAmong the visitors: someone, you know?  Who knows, who has some hint of, every strange tracery of magick in the air tonight.  Who is: enthralled by it and entombed by it and entangled by it.  Follows that thread from god knows how far away to the place where it makes a new, strange knot.

Ian and his partner have an audience.  Probably they are too intent on each other to take note of anything more than the impression of blond hair left loose, streaming into a wild tangled mass when the wind kicks up.  The sensation of her resonance: gut-wrenching, enthralling, threshold-hovering right there.  Right there.  Right there.

Sera is wearing something close to preppy drag: a highwaisted skirt, pleated and short, with silver buttons precise at the waist.  A longsleeved, rather high-necked little jacket, also black, with more silver buttons in marching military-themed rows, the cut of which would be conservation were it not, you know, so very short: the undercurve of her breasts, the spare cut of her torso.  The dark scrawl of her tattoos against golden skin.  Someone's been worshipping the sun: somewhere.  Somehow.

Serafíne(Fair warning guys: I go to bed in an hour and a half, so I am probably going to ignore osting order or I will not get to make another post with these many people in the room.  :) )

Jo Hamilton[I'm fine with that :D]

Grace"So, yeah. The park!" Grace says, sniffing in the warm air and tree smell. "Places like this are good for distraction-free thinking-time. And you need that."

She walked down a park path with Jo, all decked out in a bright blue shirt with a massive comma on it. Just below the comma, in small text is "or 1=1 --". If we're going to teach, do it right, right? Be the exploit.

"So, first off -- you say you want to learn about electricity and stuff like that? First, I want to know -- what do you think of the physical things? The elements, atoms, that kind of thing? Because it's all related. Well, okay, it is all all related, but forces and matter more so than most."

Lavinia[Per+aware, oooh?]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )

Jo Hamilton[Do I sense decepticons?! per+aware]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )

Jo HamiltonShe needs distraction free thinking.

This is what Grace says to Jo, who has her cellphone out in her hand and is plugging away at something. Because Jo... Jo doesn't know the meaning of 'distraction-free' unless what Grace really means is boredom. Jo moves too much to ever be distraction free; always thinking, always searching.

The day has been warm, though the temperature has dropped dramatically from her time on campus, and she's dressed accordingly. Her black tank is lit up with yellow letters spelling out 'IN TRAINING TO BE BATMAN' with the bat symbol displayed at the top. And capri light pants (do men call their long shorts capris or shorts?). Of course, her wrists are touched with all manner of things to decorate them (probably gutted someone's computer somewhere, hopefully they don't know about it).

"Huh? Oh right yeah like.. Ok well I mean like, it's just coding right? Like a background program.. like ya know.. like your desktop wallpaper. Or maybe it's like, like an if-then statement. Like if THIS coding happens, do this! Ya know like.. dude how did the Matrix explain it? Where's trinity when you need her?"  Jo hummed. She hummed like the powerlines. Always moving, but never radically. Predictable. Necessary. Pulling humanity along, whether it liked it or not.

LaviniaIt's actually a beautiful day. More than a beautiful day, it's fan-fucking-tastic. She had been spending time with friends, some people she had concluded were decent company, regardless of whether or not they had a roof over their head. There but before the grace of God go she, and all that jazz. She remembers being out here, she remembers being hot and being cold, she remmebers thinking that she had better be brilliant or better be talented because otherwise she wouldn't be able to put a roof over her head.

Anyway, it wasn't important. She'd eaten part of a bucket of chicken with the guys, bid them adios and headed on to enjoy the rest of the park. It was a beautiful place, full of frisbee and basketball and trees and- oooh, were those people sparring?

Something felt interesting, and her dark eyes lit up like torches (like she ever had to really wonder about that) and a grin blossomed across her face. THe blonde, with her golden halo of hair and rather remarkable height and capris (nope, those were regular pants, they were just capris because Lavinia Cervantes was over six feet tall) She followed sensation, marched forward in combat boots and a cut up tee shirt (something to hide naturally occuring holes from God-knew-what)

And she headed forward, looking from the men sparring to a blonde sitting and watching and instead her attention went there. Had no qualms with plopping down next to her. Left ear to the lady's side.

"They just start?"

Ian[Life 3, Better Body diff 6]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (5, 6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Ian[+1 Dex for 24 hours, woot]

Ian[Ian's Dex+Brawl]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )

Ian[Jae-shin's Dex+Brawl]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) Re-rolls: 1

Serafíne"Fuck if I know," the lovely creature shrugs and the movement threatens to upend whatever modesty the cut of the jacket affords her.  She is wearing sunglasses.  Yesterday they were framed with skulls.  Today, they are black, cat-eyed, the frames studded with silver nailheads.  Match to the leather wrapped-round her throat.

This sideglance then, her eyes hidden behind the glasses so large they dominate her angular features, without occluding them.  "I just started watching them."

The sun slides across the reflective surface of the dark glass.  Moving, luminous.



Grace"Well, yes. Except that there is no real if-then. If you look deep enough into the code, you might say forces are a type of matter, or matter is a type of force. They are composite objects made of the same general parts. Like, take electrons. Electrons are what carry electricity, which is a force, but they're also the things that help make up atoms. They're the same type of object, just with slightly different variables. So if you already have some theory of matter, it's relatively easy to translate that into a theory of forces."

Stroll, stroll, stroll. Lecture, lecture, lecture.

Ian and Jae-shin.

Cloud.

Wait, what?

"Oh hey! They're doing a thing!"

She turns on a heel and heads over. So, now -- a bright-eyed embodiment of shifting, winged focus starts beelining for the assembly, pseudo-apprentice in tow.

IanIt was the first time any of the people in the park (apart from Ian's current sparring partner) had seen him since he'd gone Seeking up that mountain peak. The first time Sera would notice the addition of a deeper, more primordial note within his resonance. The primal energy of it coiled fittingly with the rest of his feline characteristics. And as Ian moved, the press of his Will blossomed out, his working evident to anyone paying particular attention. He focused with his pulse, his movement, dancing across the grass with an effortless grace that hinted at his ballet training. And then suddenly he lunged, ducking beneath Jae-shin's arms to knock him in the back of his knee. Ian followed it up with a sweeping kick that took the Akashic's feet out from under him.

Then he pounced, pinning Jae-shin to the grass with a sharp, triumphant grin.

Jae-shin looked up at him quietly, catching his breath. After a moment, he laughed - pleased and surprised. "You cheated."

"You're just mad I finally pinned you." Ian reluctantly released his prize, getting to his feet as he cast a glance toward Sera and Lavinia. When he focused on the latter, there was a light tilt of his head. "Hey."

Jo Hamilton"Buuuuuuuuuuut matter is just code. So like if it's jsut matter and stuff, then it's just code. Cause like, how could it like be anything else? So is it like a program running? Or like.. it has like a schedule? But like if it's not an if-then, then like why is the weather and stuff all chaotic? Like for realsies?"

Now Jo HAD sensed a new individual, she has just been engaged in her phone and Grace, but now was being aimed in their direction. "A thing!" Jo exclaimed, as if this said everything. "We must like see this thing! Because things, things are cool. Not like those thingie-ma-jigs.."

Jo is right on her heels, shoving her phone in her back pocket.

Lavinia"Good enough for me," she replied with a shrug. She wasn't wearing a skirt today, like Lavinia ever really paid attention to what she was doing in a skirt, dared egg someone closer to getting an eye full of whatever she was wearing underneath, but we digress. It wasn't important what she wasn't wearing right now. "I'm Lavinia."

Sera got another glance, having the worst time not looking and being taken in by the fact that Sera was striking. Maybe she had painting or chalk drawings on her mind after her last escapade with the awakened populace of Denver. She opened her mouth, but then noticed people approaching and turned her attentions again.

When Ian spoke she nonchelantly watches his lips, not longing but decyphering. Then, her eyes went to his face. "Hey, you two are great," she replied.

That was the voice of a herald. Something that spoke with confidence, that bid fear not, something that brought tidings of joy or the message of something wrathful beyond measure. She is a messenger, or at least that's what her voice seems intent on conveying about her.

Ian[I suppose we should do this awareness thing]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

SerafíneThen it's over.  Ian - cheating - has pinned his partner and Sera, who seems to be both watchful and somehow removed or contained or maybe merely high, notices.  Her sharp little chin rises in a way that makes the sun's reflection glint off the nailheads in her sunglasses: or maybe just the darkdark glass.

And she: claps.

You know: for the show.

Around the paper cup, fingers finding her palm.  Mouth crawling, curved at one corner that is essentially inhabited.

"Serafíne.  You can call me Sera."

This to Lavinia.  Nothing to Ian except the fixed attention of her hidden eyes on him, as he rises: from the hold, from the ground.  Glances up at Sera, Lavinia, greets the latter.  Something arrested in that awareness.  She knows everything: feels everything.  Every piece of it, which threatens to peel her apart even as she is cinching herself back together.

Grace"The weather and stuff is all chaotic because it isn't an if-then. There are very few things in this universe that are a true either-or. Mostly, we exist in the grayish in-betweens. If things were deterministic, like an if-then, we would be able to predict the chaos precisely. But as it's all built on probabilities, even so far as the electrons and protons? The world isn't a firmly defined thing. At all. Which is nice, because hey -- that would be way boring."

That spiel having been said, Grace golf-claps to Ian, and plops down next to Lavinia. "I'm Grace. Hi."

Jo Hamilton"Well yeah but you're like totally simplifying it. Like, it's an if-then statement but it's not like, if Jo sneezes, Butterflies are born. It's like.. like If this person does this, under this, when this, but only while, then this happens, which does this, but only this while this, and so on and so on. Like it's a lot more complicated and stuff. You can totes predict stuff, if you got the code. Like if I knew the whole code, I could totally tell you when stuff is gunna happen. I mean it's be like super easy. But like we're missing the pieces and stuff so it only seems chaotic.

Jo..gives Ian a thumbs up. That is her congrats to..whatever that was. Because Jo isn't into the physical exercises, save one..or two.

"Yo Sera!" Jo gives her a wave and then finally..oh FINALLY focuses on the new one. She twitches her nose, lifts her brows and seems to look as if someone gave her to the key to the gaming store. Grace sits next to lavinia, who is sitting next to Sera. This... no.. this can't be.

So Jo, sits in Grace's lap and leans in towards Lavinia. "So, will you marry me?"

Lavinia[You're on my deaf side, did I actually catch any of this?]

Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )

Lavinia"Sera," she repeats, grins a little at Serafíne,  lights up for a second because there is something vaguely hopeful for the woman at her side. She wasn't entirely human, this one. On first glance, certainly, but there's far too much energy there. More than a mortal body can handle (she's fragile, though she doesn't let on. She's stronger than she looks, but she's not as strong as she thinks) "Glad to meet you."

This is Grace. And there she is, surrounded by strangers who feel like- well, now, this one is certainly different, but happens to have the misfortune of being on Lavinia's right side instead of her left. She scoots back enough so that she can kind of see Grace's face. A little. Just enough so that she doesn't have to turn her head to see the woman next to her. Her brows furrow for a second, like she was thinking, like she was straining.

But, once she puts two and two together, the woman laughs, something that is intent and warm and that stuck to the senses. She wasn't terribly loud, but she certainly cut through the ambient sound.

"Lavinia," she offered to the pile of GraJoCe. "Are you tryin' to make an honest woman outta me." Brow quirked, grin widened, "or are you proposing to Sera? I haven't been married in a little while, so I feel the need to clarify."

IanLavinia said they were great. Grace and Sera clapped, as though Ian and Jae-shin had been nominated the evening's designated entertainment. Jae-shin responded to the approval with a hesitant smile, perhaps unsure if he ought to be encouraging the notion that combat was a spectator sport (or perhaps he was just shy.) He got to his feet with a smooth motion, dusting dirt and grass from his legs. Unlike Ian, he had on a tank top, but was otherwise similarly outfitted in athletic clothes. They'd obviously come here with the express purpose of doing what they'd just been engaged in.

Ian, of course, took the applause in stride. The side of his mouth quirked lightly, and he bent down into a loose, graceful bow. Slightly theatrical.

"You guys are welcome to join us, if you like."

The challenge hung in the air, dry and coyly tempting, though Ian did not expect that any of those seated nearby were likely to take him up on it.

SerafíneYo Sera! shouts Jo and our Sera tips her coffee mug in the creature's direction.  Her head turns; their collective reflection crawls across the gleaming surface of her glasses.  Does not comment on if-thens and why-wheres and data because that all sounds like bullshit to her.

Except of course you can predict stuff.  She's a seer.  The future and the past crack themselves open between her teeth.

They speak different languages, though.  On every level.

She is looking at them though: her golden head turned, her chin low over her narrow shoulder, the dark cut of that little black jacket clearly tailored for her: from the width to the length to the glove-like fit of the arms.  Custom-made.

Somehow the lift and curve of that cup is both greeting and farewell.  It's clear - body language, the way she holds herself - that this is only a temporary waystation.

"I don't believe in fucking monogamy," this to Lavinia, a sideline, a sidelong.  "So marriage is pretty much off the table.  I think she was proposing to you, though."

Then she's moving, turns around on her heel because she never sat down, just paused in her passage.  Glance back at Ian over a dark shoulder.  "Ask me when I'm sober.  Watch me say yes."

--

That's really all the farewell they get.  She's on her way down the path, into the shadows.  Sunglasses still covering her eyes.



GraceIt seems that Jo and Grace have already joined Ian and Jae-shin in the physical contact and pinning department, which -- let's be honest here, Grace was not really expecting at this juncture.

Like, how can Jo say that the universal code is a firmly definite thing when she herself is so unpredictable?

She's got a young woman sitting in her lap. This is not a thing that has occurred before, and she blinks. Her eyebrows move a little closer together, and her eyes seek a way out.

"Oh. Huh."

And, she stands up, dumping Jo to the ground.

"Oh, it is chaotic. Just, there are ways of quantifying chaos and analyzing its probabilities. Like, if you know a word starts with 'a', it's probably 'and' or 'at' and not 'aardvark'. But sometimes, it turns out to be 'aardvark', so you cannot completely discount anything. Like people just sitting in your lap, for instance."

Yup. Like that.

"Hi, Lavinia! I haven't seen you around..."

Jo Hamilton"Tcht. Dude the only wrestlin I' do isn't like, something you'd do in like the park." But she turns her attention right back to Lavinia and Sera, one of whom is on her way out soon enough. "Dude. Nah. Sera totes would reject me. She's like a free woman or something. All rockin it and stuff. See my awesomeness? Just hold her down really." Her lips curl into a slow grin.

"But like for realsies? Yup. Toes asked you. But I mean if you're not cool bein the chick, I'll totally be your waifu. Just don't like, ask me to like cook you anything. Only skills I got be like, mac and cheese or stovetop. True facts. " Jo is in the midst of talking when she goes forward and is dumped, rolling on her back  and sitting up on her arms to look at them. "Dude you took my spot. What'd you expect? See you'd know that if you were like in the know of the if-thens of like my software."

LaviniaShe looks at Grace and Jo in the pile together, she furrows her brows and cocks her head to the side. She doesn't quite seem to put two and two together, confusion on her face born from the fact that she can't quite figure out if she actually heard the word aardvark or not.

Just like Grace said, if a word starts with an a it is probably not aardvark but sometimes it actually is aardvark.

There were words, though. A lot of words. A lot of words that Jo said and, even if Lavinia was watching her mouth (and she was) they didn't quite register. The look of query on her face almost made one wonder if she actually spoke English as a first language. (She did, but there were things that she completely mised. Like whatever the hell a way-foo was.)

"Uh..." yep, that is confusion on her face, "I think our love could survive a diet of mac and cheese and stovetop."

She looks back at Ian, contemplates for all of a second before she straightens up just a little. He doesn't expect that someone will take him up on this. She does light up, though, her expression is laced with being delight- ah, the look says, a challenge. That was what she misse about Oliver. She missed sparring with him. She missed having someone to exert herself with, and not in the typical sense that one thinks a lovely young female creature exerts herself.

Oliver wouldn't have done it, anyway. She wasn't his type, for one, and for two she was holy.

Whatever the case, there was a little bit of relief that someone had said something she actually understood most of it.

"Need me to take off my boots? Combat boots are a bitch, but I don't mind. It's up to you."

Ian"I'll hold you to that," Ian offered in the wake of Sera's departure, though the odds of running into a sober version of Sera seemed small at best. He watched her go, attention momentarily riveted to the flow of her legs and the sun striking off her hair. Then Jo said something about becoming Lavinia's waifu and Ian and Jae-shin both looked at her, then at each other, before focusing on the conversation at large.

As it happened, Lavinia took him up on his offer. When she did, Jae-shin smiled and stepped aside, ceding the ring to Ian. He seemed content for the moment to stand as an observer with the others. Ian, meanwhile, raised his eyes to meet Lavinia's gaze. She had a couple of inches of height on him, and a reservoir of resonance that seemed to sing with angelic grace. These facts alone made her a natural focal point.

"Whatever you're comfortable with." He took a few steps back from the group, leaving a buffer so that no one would get hurt. Then he held himself - still and poised - as he waited for Lavinia to give him some indication that she was ready.

Grace"If it were a list of if-thens, that would be the most horrible pile of spaghetti mess I've ever seen, Jo. Do you see it like that? I'm so so sorry if that's what you have to parse."

Grace just shakes her head, like she can't begin to understand Jo's way of unfolding the universe. That's just... massively inefficient.

She also completely ignores the whole relationship talk. That's in Here Be Dragons territory as far as Grace is concerned.

"But, I think someday you will find the chaos. Existence cannot happen without it. Creation and destruction and stasis form the first abstraction. From there, all other things split off. They work together to create and do."

And she sits again, next to Jo (not on top of her). Then, she watches just in case she has to stand up again. Probabilities, right?

Jo HamiltonJo drops back down again, back flat on the ground. "Man now I gotta get rings and all that. " She was having a good time of it, tilting her head to look at Ian and Lav as they get prepared for sparring. But Grace, Grace and she are still discussing the universe and computers or..where did this start again? Oh. Forces.

"Totes would.But like the software kinda is like a mess. Cause like it's always trying to improve right? So it's never like perfect and stuff. Always all these kinks and stuff you gotta like work out. Bugs right? Bugs and stuff.So like why does the universe need chaos? Like why does it have to be like, chaotic and all that to even exist? What is it like, about chaos that is so like needed for the universal code? Why can't it like... just be envisioned and all that. Like.. well.. like planned is what I mean."

Lavinia"I'll hold off, they're kind of a pain to get re-laced," she told Ian. Conversational, but no matter how she tried to be casual the sense of otherness always crept in. Unexpected. Unintentional. But other, like a stranger in a strange land, no mater how many lifetimes she's spent here.

She takes a second to walk to the circle. Calm and confident and inspiring.. She has a presence that draws attention, that keeps attention. With resonant voice and a being that radiates a boundless, every reaching, burning ember of forever. "And you don't need rings," she calls back, "jump the broom- be united for a year and a day then reup the next year."

Reup, like it was military service.

She straightened up at that point, taking a stance that was at once comfortable but born out of practicality. Someone who learned to defend herself in a bar and polished up later with actual training. "I'm out of practice," she tells him. Says it with sincerity, too. Deception wasn't in her framework.

She nods, and was most assuredly ready at that point.

IanJo and Grace were embroiled in a conversation about code and chaos and the laws of reality, and meanwhile there was Ian and Lavinia, squaring off for physical combat. They really were a diverse group.

Lavinia said she was out of practice, to which Ian canted his head and asked, "want me to go easy?" It seemed a genuine offer, though something in his eyes glimmered darkly (tempting, challenging.) They had different combat styles. Different ways of moving. Perhaps the element of surprise would do both of their training some good.

[I'll roll init now. +8]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )

Lavinia"Nah, what would I learn if you went easy on me?"



(5+1d10)

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )

Lavinia(oops)

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )

LaviniaLet it be said that her former companions were the ones who did most of the tactical things. They were the ones who thought things through. She wasn't impulsive so much as she was hindered. A few too many blows to the head, maybe the lack of hearing on one side, something made the reasoning part of her instincts slower. Made up for it in what was plugged into muscle memory.

She moved in, threw an elbow to the ribs. She does fight like she's had to deal with people. Something that spoke of learning rules and etiquette later. Let it be said, though, Lavinia acts and she commits

{action! Elbow to the ribs]

Ian[Split action, 1a: Evade, 1b: strike to the kidney. First split Dex 5 + Athletics 4 (evasion specialty) -2]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

Grace"So it's evolving, right? The code itself mutating into new forms. You know how life evolves, right? Tiny errors in the DNA code occur when they get transcribed wrong and get passed down. Some of them are terrible, and some of them are beneficial, and the beneficial ones live on. The code of life doesn't think, oh, if I need to avoid light then I evolve an eye, so I'm going to develop an eye blueprint. It just randomly, chaotically, bubbles up.

"Sometimes an error in transcription isn't a bug. Sometimes, it becomes a feature. And thus, matter and forces and life and everything come into being, like an eye evolving on a worm. If there weren't errors, there would be no improvement either. There would just be a single, perfect zero. Nothing. The universe continually moves toward the one by cracking that zero apart, introducing errors which add stuff and do things that become its features. We use chaos to drive that movement toward something."

Ian and Lavinia spar, and Grace is more than content to watch and talk endlessly about chaos, because it's how she does. She's also thoroughly distracted.

Ian asks if Lavinia wants him to go easy on her, and she responds with violence. Grace laughs. "Noooope, she doesn't!"

Lavinia[aaaand try and land something, dex3+brawl3]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )

Ian[er, pretend I re-rolled those 10's]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (5, 7) ( success x 1 )

Ian[Dex 5 + Brawl 3 -3, +1 diff for called shot]

Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 4, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )

Jo Hamilton"Man that ain't no fun. Then you miss all the happy-couple cosplay. Like for reals. That's really why people like get hitched. Cause you know, you don't need to like get married to get laid."

"Thing is, we don't know if like the universe doesn't think. I mean look at us right? We're just like low-end software. Stupid little things. And we're just like self aware enough that we like get it. And we try to mess with it. And since we're just like software, what is thought really? Like is thought what we think it is? Maybe it's just complex code itself that's like thought based. I mean like sure, rocks and stuff can't think, probably, but like...they're simplistic. What if like the more complex the code, the more thought it has? Then that like means like the universe is a thinker, and a better one at that. It's got small thinkers running around doing things so...ya know, collective thought Grace. "

"Course the problem is to think that logic is based on thought. But like, it's really just breaking down biases to like understand how things work. So like..I mean simplistic way.. I see like a cat, and it's white. So then I say, if it's a cat, it's white. Well...that's illogical because in the universe, there are coded many cats that are like many different colors. So it's not that our thought is logic, or like we're trying to like impose order, but that we're trying to understand the order and then like put that into the collective network to create a better program."

"I mean like I see what you're sayin tho, about errors and all that. I just don't know that like, it's chaos necessarily. I mean what if there is like an acceptable level of errors, and like nothing goes wrong beyond that. But that level is just like, there to like help move things forward? But I mean let's say that like sure, ok, chaos and all.. probabilities. You can still predict what's like gunna happen down to a tight likelihood. Like... when I play chess right? There's like certain things that beginners like to always do wrong. Swear it. Like always. I just know it's gunna happen. I mean sure you leave like wiggle room to like fix in case they don't, but nah.."

Jo squints a little as she turns her head to look at the two of them. "See... this is why I don't do that stuff. I mean.. it's voluntary pain. " She thrust her hand in the air though. "Get 'em! " Urging the blonde on.

IanLavinia was fast. Ian only just barely managed to evade the blow, his spine curving back at a sharp angle before he spun on his axis and came around behind Lavinia, using her height to his advantage. She'd feel a sharp tap right over her left kidney where his fist made contact - a blow that could have been painful if he'd put any real force into it.

And then he was darting away, smooth and and agile (even by his standards.) When he met Lavinia's eyes again, he smiled subtly (pleased and impressed.)

LaviniaThat would have been bad. Oh, it would have been something that took the breath out of her, and she knows that. When she locks eyes with Ian she is alight, more the stars than the space between them. There wasn't any real force behind the blow, which speaks to his restraint. One, she thinks. One-zero.

He's grace in motion. He's fast. And she is delighted. Her lips upturned ever so slightly, restrained because she's in the zone. This is training.

And damned if she didn't love training.

Lavinia[action! sweep the leg!]

Ian[And again with the split action. 1a: evade, 1b: kick. Rolling to evade, -2]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5) ( botch x 1 )

Ian[hahahahahaha]

Lavinia[Dex3+brawl3, diff 7}

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 3, 3, 7, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Grace"It is chaos because otherwise we could not go anywhere with it. And it is ordered, because without order the chaos would fling us into nothing again. And it grows in the interplay between those two. It is possible for the universe to have many aspects. Like I said, there are very few parts of the universe that are an actual either-or.

"And, I've always felt that the universe thinks precisely because we are not separate from it. You are talking about how I see the thing, like a mind-fractal. Like, individual minds are fractal-shaped, but then beyond the individual is another level of the fractal -- the universal mind."

She leans back on the grass, content to watch the two at their voluntary pain. But see? The universe puts itself through voluntary pain as a way of improvement. Why not us?

IanSometimes, the word really was aardvark. And sometimes cats didn't land on their feet.

Lavinia swept out her leg, mimicking the same tactic that Ian had used to defeat Jae-shin moments earlier. It was a tactic that often failed to be effective when turned on Ian (as Jae-shin could personally attest to,) but this time... it worked. Ian made to jump out of the path of Lavinia's combat boot, but he was too slow, and his balance tipped when she swept his feet out from under him.

He hit the ground hard on his side with a muffled thump and a tight exhale as the breath rushed out of his lungs. And for a second, he just lay there, as though he couldn't quite fathom how he'd managed to end up in the grass. In this distance, leaning against a tree, Jae-shin laughed.

Ian was going to have a bruise on his hip later.

He sat up, wiping some of the grass from his arm, and managed not to look too ungraceful as he got to his feet. When he glanced at Jae-shin, he raised his hand and flipped the other man off in a relaxed gesture. Lavinia, though, got a low chuckle. "I think that probably counts for two."

Jo Hamilton"But why? I mean that's not really like, a reason. That's just like.. what people say when they don't have an answer but like they want someone to stop asking questions. Dude, it's not really a why, so much as a 'because.' If chaos is like necessary, then there has to be like a logical reason for it. Like why would it be like needed for progress? That sorta thing."

She curled her arms back, hand sunder her head as she watched the sparring. "I guess that's like a way to look at it. Guess I don't see it as fractal, but could totally work. Course not like I'd know how to like envision it other than like..binary or something. "

And then Ian drops. Jo would not consider herself a sports person, unless one counts MMOs and other online games as sports. But when Ian drops, she sits up and gives a "Yeah!" As if her team had just won a touchdown. "Man shouldn't we be like..making bets or something?"

LaviniaShe took a step back so Ian could get up. DIdn't get on top of him, didn't gloat, she just looked ready. That moment when adrenaline tries to push her senses. Her attention swung between Ian and Jae-shin, "you two are definitely friends."

A little admiring, that. Casual, but the barest bit of something else. It was a lonely road to walk, and she'd bid farewell to one of her longest standing companions, lost the other. Cooped up in a motel room waiting to find something to throw her full attention at. This was a welcome distraction, a welcome run of practice.

"Okay, so one-two? That one was more oh god, work than anything. You're pretty damn agile."

Kiara"I'd go for the leggy blonde, myself. She's got attitude." That, from a voice drifting over near a tree close to Jo and Grace. There's a body leaning easily against it; knee high boots crossed neatly at the ankle; arms over her chest and this wild sort of tangle of dark hair set against dark red lips and a set of eyes harboring no lack of amusement for the scene in front of her.

Kiara Woolfe, if you please.

She hasn't just appeared, not without that tingling at the edges of awareness but it's been subtle tonight.

An idle passing of ways; the brunette's attire suggesting she was on her way from somewhere - or to somewhere else; somewhere requiring heels and a long skirt; a top with splashes of vibrant; glittering color and a short, fitted jacket that hugged in at her waist. A belt sat low on her hips and she seemed; with a brief cant of her head toward Grace; the dip of her mouth as she let her attention wander back to the sparring pair in the distance; quite content to remain a casual spectator.

IanAnd then there was Kiara, who Ian hadn't seen in... too long, really. And she'd just witnessed him getting knocked on his ass by a statuesque blond in combat boots. When he felt her presence, his eyes found her at the treeline and fixed there, as though she was some sort of focal point. Lavinia might wonder at the delay, but his focus was back a moment later, and this time when he looked at his opponent, there was a coil of predatory intent in the way his muscles tensed.

"So are you."

GraceIan hits the ground, and Grace's eyes widen like woah.

"Because, chaos is the most efficient method you can use to break a thing out of its limitations.  Efficiency. In code, in run-time, in processor cycles. If you want a good simulation, you set up some data, and you set up some simple-as-can-be rules that data has to follow, and then you randomize the fuck out of that. You don't engineer every little thing, because -- yeah, you could do it, but it'd take so much effort. You take it down to its most basic form, and let it evolve into what you need.

"Ian fell, and he'll learn a thing from that, and hopefully not do... whatever next time. Improving. He could have started out perfect, but what if perfection isn't perfect? What if the writer of this universe felt that nematodes were perfection, and created them perfectly, and allowed them to change, but never outside of 'nematode' because... how? Without chaotic fracturing, how would you accomplish that? It'd have to be recoded entirely from the ground up, if you wanted to make something new. It's all about efficiency."

Grace leans back so that her head goes backwards, to eye Kiara. "I'd go for Ian." Even though he just hit pavement. Somebody has to root for the 'underdog' right?

Lavinia[Declare!: Splitting-

1a: punch to the wherever-the-hell-I-can-hit

1b: dodge the fuck out of whatever is coming]

Ian[1a: kick, 1b: evade, rolling to kick -2]

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )

Lavinia[Shit! evade! -3, because split. Dex3+Athletics 3-3=3]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Lavinia(and one more, because it goes first)

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )

Ian[and the kick lands on Lavinia's side]

Jo Hamilton"I know right? " Jo slipped her hand through her pockets, trying to locate something, given hat money wasn't exactly something she had a lot of. "Ha!" She sad as she pulled some piece of something out. "Taffy! I bet a... green apple taffy that she'll kick his butt like woah." Jo even waved it in the air, displaying her prize.

"Is it the most efficient? I mean like, what are we basing it on? See if the universe is built of a code we haven't like, figured out, and like don't know, stuff we're only getting snippets of, then it like, might be possible that the way we see data work here isn't like exactly the same higher up, or like..maybe we're misinterpreting it."

"Dude.. everyone knows mantis shrimp are perfection. I mean for reals. I bet those little guys are really the coders in disguise or something. Managerial programs hiding out like 'yah, we're just gunna be here in the ocean, like all awesome and stuff.'"

"I just figure, I don't know. I mean that's like the crux of it right? Completely got no clue. II'm still like, figuring out the first  code I ever ran across. So I figure there's somethin I ain't seeing."

Lavinia[Attack! second split. Dex3+brawl3-3=3]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )

Ian[Dex+Ath -3]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 5 ) [WP]

Ian[And they're tied again!]

LaviniaShe doesn't hold back, save for when she doesn't intend to hurt someone. She is invested, her movement is sound, confident after having actually landed a hit against her opponent, only to divide her attentions.

She'd said it before- Ian was agile. Ian knew what he was doing, had command over his body and she came close, so very close to evading that well-placed kick to the side but it made contact anyway. Close only counts with horse shoes and hand grenades, they say. Close to dodging doesn't mean actually dodging. She powered through the movement, tried to land her punch only to find it falling short.

The young woman pulled back at that point. Not ready to give up, but still beaming, still burning bright- a captivating representation of eternity wrapped in a finite form.

"I gotta figure out how you spread your energy so well. I'm usually one and done, this is a stretch," she compliments. Looks to the trees, back to where she had been, takes in the sights because the sounds fail her.

"Want to keep going?"

KiaraHe feels different to her, Ian. It's there in the way their eyes meet - the way her expression shifts just so - the edge of her smile; the glint of her eyes in the distance and then she's dipping her chin; directing that smile down toward Grace when she's reclining back to meet Kiara's quip with the notion she plans to support Ian.

The underdog.

The Verbena doesn't laugh at that; but she does let her teeth flash. "He does have stamina on his side." Does flick her eyes over the dark haired female beside her as she chatters about data and coding and the universe and - mantis shrimp. Doesn't shift her weight from her vantage point but rather lets her eyes comb the area.

It's not without some suggestion of vigilance; not without the subtle precision of a predator aware of the potential for conflict; for ambush while exposed.

IanThey were two-for-two now, with Lavinia's impressive sweep countered by Ian's quick evasions and precise strikes. He'd trained in both kick-boxing and kung fu, and the latter showed in the way he moved, particularly in the fluid way he avoided Lavinia's attacks. That kind of training didn't necessarily make him a better fighter, though. The style itself mattered less than the wits and skill of the person using it.

Did he want to keep going?

"I think they're placing bets over there. Let's go one more. We should give them a winner."

Grace"We should be mantis shrimp. Who doesn't want to see in over twenty colors and create cavitation bubbles that collapse at several thousand Kelvin with their pistol-arms, right? Bad. Ass."

"I don't know if it's the most efficient. And that's the beautiful part of it. There's more left to find out. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're wrong. Actually, we both are. Almost certainly."

"Whatcha looking for, Kiara?"

LaviniaShe gives him a thumbs up, taking the second to recenter and regain her breath. And with that, she was ready again.

[And an elbow to wherever is available, she ain't picky]

Ian[1a: sweep, 1b: tackle, rolling for the sweep Dex+Brawl -2, diff 7]

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 2, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Jo Hamilton"Totes. Mantis shrimp all the way."

Jo waves her taffy in the air again. "I got green apple riding on you. Like the best flavor ever. " She sat up to look towards the sparring two,  then Kiara. "You know like, you can totally come sit and all. I mean I don't bite... well.not like...unless you want me to." She wiggled her eyebrows at her. "But for reals."

Lavinia[Ack! Stay up! Dex3+athletics3=6, diff8]

Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )

Ian[rolling WP to revert to a defensive action since she didn't go down]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

Ian[And Dex+Ath to evade, -3]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )

Lavinia[Dex3+brawl3=6, diff 6]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )

Ian[and they tied again, lol, dammit]

Kiara[It's Kiara, she's throwing everything off with her witchy voodoo, tbh.]

Ian[Between her and Lavinia, there is too much hotness. Ian is clearly distracted.]

Lavinia[Hot people sparring breaks the universe. True story]



(declare: knee to the somewhere that is legal and respectable to do in an actual fight and not a bar fight)

Kiara[+1 diff, Kiara Factor.]

Ian[1a: kick, 1b: punch, 1c: punch, rolling to kick Dex+Brawl -3]

Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (2, 2, 3, 6, 7) ( success x 1 )

Lavinia[Land this! Dex+brawl, diff 7]

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]

Ian[punch 1 -4]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 6) ( success x 1 )

Ian[punch 2 -5]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

KiaraWhat's she looking for.

It's been an overcast day but not overly breezy; barely enough to shake the leaves as it passes through the park. Still - it skims over the brunette's form; the briefest gust; stirs the hair that's fallen over her face; ruffles the collar of her jacket. Kiara's focus remains drawn into the distance; a line marring her otherwise smooth brow; drawing her eyebrows together.

Grace's query seems to cut through whatever it is that's distracting her and her eyes swing back; slip between her and Jo. Her mouth reshapes itself into a supple expression of mirth; the faintest trace of flirtation sliding into it like a promise and a dare when Jo says she doesn't bite. "Oh, I always want people to."

She straightens a little and moves around her tree to lean her spine against it; the edges of her jacket falling open; the heavy collection of necklaces jangling together as she does. "Nothing, in particular. I guess it's just - " This, to Grace, with another brief look over; away.

"Habit."

Ian[Final score: Lavinia 4, Ian 6]

IanIf it'd been a real fight, things might have gone differently. Maybe that strike to the kidney that Ian had done at the beginning of the round would have ultimately won him the edge he needed to take Lavinia out. Maybe, after knocking Ian onto the ground, Lavinia would have had just enough time to dive in for a killing blow. Real fights were much more brutal, and much less predictable, than sparring matches.

But they weren't really fighting, and it showed in the way that Ian grinned, panting softly as the setting sun lit a warm glow on his tanned skin. In those last few moments, he'd abandoned his efforts to evade Lavinia's blows in favor of an all-out flurry of attacks, striking out with a swift kick that was followed by two strikes from his fists - one to her side and one to her jaw. The final blow was barely a graze, tapping her in the chin as he reeled in his momentum.

She'd landed a solid knee to his rib-cage. If this had been a real fight, it would have broken bone.

"We should do this again some time. Lavinia?" She'd given her name earlier, but not to him.

Grace"Mmm. I understand," says Grace, and she remembers a time of furtive looks and predator lookouts. It happens. Their lives are not easy ones, but whose are?

"I believe you owe me a green apple taffy?" Grace says, swiveling a look at Jo.



LaviniaShe had no idea what was coming. Expecting one blow, preparing for one, knowing that she could land another, keep them tied, but she wasn't expecting for Ian's sharp mind and sharper reflexes to beat her out in the end. There was one hit, a solid hit, one that was landed in purpose to the gut but she left herself open. Couldn't possibly divide her attention so evenly as Ian could.

His first blow lands easily, she expected one but not the second. Not the third. The final blow was a literal tap on the chin, something she didn't shy away from but did make her exhale sharply, close her eyes for just a second.

There was a certain degree of brutality that came in real fights. There was something she had originally grown accustomed to, that her original knowledge had come from desperation- like being a cornered animal. Growing into something more sophisticated, more practiced, more poised because someone taught her what to do instead of letting panic take hold. She knew this wasn't real, knew it was training and seemed to delight in the fact. Revel in the moment that she'd missed this.

They should do this again. The world came back from pinpoint focus, from the moments where she was paying attention to what was directly in front of her. "Yeah," a confirmation of her name. "Yeah," she repeated, catching her breath and beaming- all radiance, this one, "I'd like that. Do you have a phone number or something?"

A second.

"Or a name?"

Jo HamiltonJo grinned. She pulled back her lips to show her white teeth in the widest grin she could  manage. "Ha!" She pronounced at Kiara. "Well you know, if you like waltz over here, I'll totally take a few nips. Course you'll have to share with her." She gestured her thumb at Lavinia, finally looking back at the two of them as they sparred.

"Ah man." Jo let out a huff and held the taffy over to Grace. "Next time champ! Next time!"

Grace[I think I'm just going to have Grace pass out on the grass, because I need to pass out XD]

Jo Hamilton[this is a solid... because I'm with you there]

Ian[Thanks for playing guys! I have to take off soon too. Have a good night!]

Grace[X_X]

IanHe didn't have his phone on him, so he jogged over to the trees where Jae-shin stood, bending down to pull his cell out of the athletic bag that rested near the Akashic's feet. As he did so, Jae-shin murmured something quietly in Korean, and Ian glanced up. He didn't respond, but the two of them exchanged looks that held traces of teasing fondness. Lavinia hadn't been wrong on that count - the two were clearly friends (as much as Ian was ever really friends with anyone.)

When Ian returned, he held out his phone. "Ian." And when she handed him hers, he added his name and phone number to her contacts. There was a lingering sense of until next time about the way he handed it back.

When they were done, he jogged lightly across the grass to where Kiara stood. The sun was going down on the horizon, and splashes of sunset hues shone through the leaves above her head. Ian glanced up once, quietly thoughtful, as he took in the underside of the canopy: the light, the colors, the pattern of branches. The leaves whispers against each other in the breeze.

He was sweating. He wasn't wearing a shirt (or shoes,) but this was hardly an unusual sight (hardly something she hadn't seen before.) When he met her eyes, he smiled.

He felt different. More like himself, in a way.

"Hi." He let the soft weight of that greeting linger a moment. "I have to get going, but... we should catch up soon."

KiaraThere is laughter at that; a slide of the brunette's dark eyes over Jo's face. The way her chin lifts just a touch. The idle motion of her fingers where they're sliding over the rough surface of the tree behind her. It all speaks to something but there's that sense she has no deeper intent (at present) to pursue it. That the seductive coil of her form where it stands (as if Kiara really were ready to pounce in some manner for the right development) and the lingering consideration of her stares are but a passing moment.

A little focus from a creature who feels as if she's peeling back your skin for the sole purpose of laying a hand to the most vital part of you and jolting you back to life. It's hard not to watch Kiara and wonder if she doesn't take satisfaction in it - unsettling others.

Pushing at the confines of comfort without ever quite overstepping beyond the limit of no return. "Buy me a drink, first." Jo's response as Kiara shifts her weight; smiling in the near-stranger's direction as Ian and Lavinia approach; Ian jogs toward her and the Verbena's focus shifts to him; her smile shifts a little; opens up; there's an awareness to it; a familiarity for the other.

"Hi, yourself."

Also an intimacy in the way she touches his body with her eyes; those long lashes dipping to cover the dark irises. She pushes off her tree; smells like the sunshine and spring and some vague; undefined thing. Something sweet; something potent. "Me too."

Get going; her arm brushes his bare skin as she passes close on her way to; one imagines; to just that. Beltane eve; the pagan must have engagements; celebrations to mark the abundance of the earth. "Call me, I have a feeling I've missed some developments."

LaviniaShe types quickly enough, like a person who clearly wasn't some erudite creature. Typed evenly and rhythmically- Lavinia Cervantes, and a phone number from Texas. Dallas/Fort Worth area. She handed it back with a little wave of her fingers, checked the phone to see what name he put himself under, and committed it to memory. (Along with noting where the area code came from. This isn't her first rodeo, to quote the song I've been everywhere, man.)

Her attention swung again, over to look at Kiara and something... clicks.

"Wolf," she said, then shook her head, "I mean Woolfe... right?"

Dawning recognition, though she met her in colder seasons. More Yule than Beltane, but Beltane was coming. Lingered at the back of her mind, she'd never been the solitary sort but it looked like it was ritual for one this year. No need to mope about it.

Jo HamiltonShe flops back with a bit of a groan. "Man chicks are so needy." She looks towards Grace for a moment, noting the now napping woman. "Right well..." She gave her a small nudge, and when she didn't move, she shrugged and embraced the concept of napping on the grass. [Ok that's me too. I'm out. thanks!]

KiaraThe cant of her head is rather wolfish in response. A slow blink and then that subtle; suggestive smile. The red lips parting to reveal sharp white teeth. Wolf, without question. "Right. Kiara." A beat; Lavinia needs little to pull focus to her; her presence is enough.

The brunette's eyes stay on her face for a beat; her body half twisted in a prior inclination.

"Nice moves out there. Not everyone can keep up with him." Ian, referenced with this slight little look.

IanIn that fraction of a moment when Kiara's hand made contact with his skin, the rest of the world went still. Then Jo said something, and Ian glanced toward her, noting for the first time that Grace had fallen asleep in the grass.

"I will."

For what it was worth, he sounded sincere. But Jae-shin was waiting for him a few trees down, and the evening was fast encroaching into night. So he nodded a goodbye to Lavinia and loped off quietly into the grass.

[Night guys! I'm off!]

LaviniaThere's something in the way she positions herself. A little far back, enough that she positions herself a little to the left, keeps people on her literal good side, but clear enough that she doesn't turn away from them. She's aware, aware that she doesn't have the luxury of not keeping her back to some exit. Not if she didn't want to hear half of her conversations at least.

So there she is, with those dark eyes like the space between the stars, that light up like lightning does. Something like torches, with a voice that cuts clear and says fear not without having to say a word. She drew attention to herself, obvious without ever having to lift a finger. Her eyes stay with Kiara's, a smile grazes her features.

Ian gets a bit of a wave- more a raise of the hand than anything- and she continues onward, "he's something else. Felt great to actually be doing something instead of waiting for something to happen, you know?"

KiaraGrace has fallen asleep in the grass and by all accounts, the slight brunette has settled beside her with the same inclination. It unspools the tension that had been just starting to gather in Kiara's shoulders; her attention slipping to Grace; her mouth drawing into a frown.

The way her attention had been gathered and drawn away; into the distance; tugged toward some unseen; unknown presence now feels directed, until she notes Jo's intention to remain with her, on the Virtual Adept. It's concern, in the Verbena's way of declaring it. The way her posture shifts and she does not fully turn back to face Lavinia; but her mouth softens at the corners. Tension leeching away.

Ian lopes away and takes Kiara's attention with him; her eyes on his bare skin; on the shift and play of muscle beneath his shoulders; the way they tapered into a lean waist. There's a twitch of red lips. "That he is." Quiet, this. Then: "I have this - thing, to be at. Beltane. It's a party." Kiara's smile returns.

"I don't know if it's anything you'd be interested in." She remembers how she met Lavinia no doubt; recalls the Chorister with her; his intensity; his scrutiny. "But you can come with, if you want. I'm headed there now."

LaviniaSeh sighs, and it sounds... relieved? Yes, that is the word for it, the way her shoulders come down, the way her lips turn up into something genuine. She stays with whomever she is with, sticks to the moment. There are things that are recalled- Lavinia had met Kiara with Oliver. Most assuredly a traditional-seeming chorister. Most certainly an incredulous cabalmate.

Oliver wasn't here anymore. Neither was Cameron, though admittedly they never much had a problem with Lavinia's particular brand of... whatever it was that she did. A discordant singer, this one. Her voices meshes with the rest of the Chorus like it's jazz, like she's the only one who finds the beauty in her own dissonance.

"Thank. Everything. I was a little nervous that I would be doing Beltane solo this year, I haven't done that in years," her phone is tucked away, hair shaken out and an assessment taken. Shirt still torn up, fashionably so in order to hide the not-so-fashionable rips that came from doing God-knew-what.

"I didn't change motels, so if you could drive me to the party, I would grateful. I promise I'll be a consummate gentlewoman."

Kiara"Oh, don't say that." The brunette's expression is playful; as is her tone. "I was just beginning to think tonight might be interesting. C'mon, I'll introduce you to a few cool people in the area."

She waits for Lavinia to collect together what she might have brought; offers a brief, parting look toward the pair of females slumbering on the grass and then tucks her hands into her jacket pockets; her dark hair shaken out of her eyes as they begin to weave their way toward the parking lot where Kiara's tiny red hatchback sits; as dusty and well loved as ever.