Animus had held out some hope that a hot shower would take the edge off of his nightmare-stirred emotions, but it seemed not to be. Even with the heat turned all the way up, he couldn't help but call to mind the sprinklers, and still the doubt clawed at him. But at least he'd managed to trace away his residual drowsiness. With that small victory, he walks to the kitchen and begins making breakfast. Hopefully, Josh and Triq would be out soon. That is, if they hadn't ...

Shutting down that particular train of thought is far harder than the Thyrsus would care to admit.

The Moros can be heard before he's seen: he's whistling softly as he enters the kitchen, padding in on bare feet. His white undershirt and dark sweats look slept in, and there's a tousle to his hair that suggests he's waiting for the water heater to do its job before he chances a shower.

He seems annoyingly cheerful, for once. He nods a good morning to his friend, and a wave, too, before crossing to the coffee machine. Still whistling.

And, as usual, Triquetra is the late riser of the bunch. She comes down the stairs in a customary flounce-y bounce-step, one of those overly fluffy robes women seem to be so adept at finding trying to wrap around her legs as she does. She ignored the coffee machine, though, not that she ever had coffee. Instead she made her way to the fridge to grab some juice. Though, just because she didn't drink it she didn't try to start a conversation with the two men before they'd had their coffee. It was a habit she'd gotten into a long time ago...her parents were not morning people.

Animus' bowl of oatmeal is left idle at his cabal-mates' approach, the Thyrsus rushing over to give Josh a clap on the shoulder before sweeping Triq up in a tight hug. While there's certainly a genuine friendship and affection in the gestures, they seem to arise just as much out of a need to reassure himself of something. For now, Animus is silent, taking in the moment, and letting relief erode a little bit of the pent-up tangle of negativity. Still, Triquetra can feel a great deal of tension left in his frame.

Joshua grins at the fleeting hand on his shoulder, mistaking it entirely and seeing only the facade, missing the anxiousness beneath. He spoons grounds into the filter, feeling free to make it as strong as he likes since he's the only one to ever touch the stuff. Once he hears the machine begin to perc, he turns his attention to the two Thyrsoi. "How's everyone feeling?" he asks, his wide smile indicating that he was feeling pretty darn good, thanks.

Triquetra just manages to set her glass juice before being swept into the hug. Which was good, because it beat spilling orange juice all across the floor. Still, not quite expecting the hug she could feel it squeeze some of the breath from her lungs. Animus was strong. "Good...a little squished."

Catching the strain in Triquetra's voice, Animus quickly slips away with an apologetic expression. He hesitates a moment longer before finally shaking his head. If I can't be level with them, who can I? Finally he speaks, hint of a tremor to his voice. "Dreams. Kept seeing all the little things that might have gone against us. Still trying to shake off those feelings."

Joshua leans against the counter, the smile fading as he crosses his arms. "That's probably understandable," he allows. He almost adds Given what happened last time, but stops himself. It didn't seem appropriate. "We had some missteps and some close calls," he says instead. "If the two of you weren't as good as you are we'd have lost someone. But we all came through. We made it; they didn't. If you're going to remember anything from yesterday, remember that," he finishes.

Triquetra's expression softens as she hears his words. And she rises up onto her tiptoes, planting a soft kiss on his cheek as her arms wrap comfortingly around him. "They didn't. We won and we all got out of it okay, that's all that matters. Don't beat yourself up over what might have happened after succeeding."

Animus smiles at the kiss, sinking just a bit into Triq's embrace. But the tension in his body remains. A flicker. Almost mechanical movements, knife stabbing into him. Her knife. Real or not, how could he ever begin to explain how that had felt?

Finally, he pushes the thought away, glancing between his Cabal-mates. "And I know that, intellectually. Emotions just aren't swept away as easily. It's part of why I want to be Banner Warden. I know both of you can take care of yourselves, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't drop everything to defend either of you -- with my last breath, if need be." The Hierarch's face suddenly turns deadly serious, quickly dispelling any thoughts that his words might be mere hyperbole.

A sober look crosses Joshua's face and he turns away, taking a much longer time than is necessary to choose a mug from the cupboard. He places the ceramic on the counter and folds his arms again, regarding Animus. "I don't want you giving up your last breath for anything," he says. "I appreciate your devotion to us--and know that I feel the same--and it's apparent that Banner Warden suits you. But you need some perspective, too. Sacrificing yourself to save me would be like giving up a rook to save your pawn. You two were far more effective than I was, against those four; if we had had to lose you, we'd have lost everything."

It was slightly unnerving to hear Animus mention sacrificing himself so bluntly. Granted, he never really made a secret as to how far he'd go to protect those dear to him. But hearing him come out and say it was still struck closer to home than just knowing it on some level. Though, she also still felt that she was largely in the dark here. "Umm...I still don't know what a Banner Warden is..."

Animus shakes his head. "It's not that simple. I can't just decide my life's more important than someone else's." The Thyrsus' face suddenly clouds over. Sadness, guilt, emotions plain as day. "The last time, I left Tug alone with them, because I let myself be ruled by pain and fear. If I made that choice, to save myself rather than another, how could I be sure it wasn't just fear speaking? How could I live with that?"

A moment later, he turns back to look into Triquetra's eyes, some of the tangle of emotions seemingly chased away from his own face. "It's a position within the Arrow. A Banner Warden is tasked with defending his Cabal, and carrying its symbol on his person." There's a brief glance toward Josh, almost as if asking for confirmation, as Animus falls silent.

"That's right," Joshua says. "Not that we've really been much for emblems before now. But if we had one, he'd carry it, and protect it just as he would protect us." He looks as though he's about to add more, then shakes his head slightly and busies himself with pouring his coffee.

Well that seemed just a little bit silly, the emblem part of it. "Why would you protect an emblem as much as a person?" Sure people attached a lot of importance to symbols. And they could be useful in rallying people or maybe marking some locations. But ultimately they were just a graphic. You didn't lose much of anything by losing a banner unless you let yourself get too emotionally invested in it. Maybe it was an Arrow thing?

Animus hesitates only a moment before replying. "For the same reason we dedicate tools. A symbol may only have the meaning that we attach to it, but when given that meaning, it begins to take on qualities of the thing it represents. That is why the Cabal's emblem is worth protecting, and why its safety is bound up with the Banner Warden's own honor. Besides, surely you know the damage that can be wrought by a symbol in the wrong hands?"

Joshua nods agreement. "It's entirely the symbolism of the thing. And symbolism is very important in magic," he adds, sounding more as though he's telling himself than Triquetra as his fingers drum the counter. "I don't want you sacrificing your life for me," he says to Animus after a moment. "It would be wasteful. You're afraid that if you turn away, it's your fear telling you to leave? Fine--I'm telling you. I'm... 'authorizing' you, to save your own ass. I don't want you to leave me behind at the first sign of trouble, mind you," he adds, attempting a smile. "But if one of us has to die to make sure things get done, it had better be me.

"I am ready to die. Every day. That's my job. I am ready to die. So is Tug. So was Falx, bless him. All we ask is that, if we die, you make sure it's for a reason."

A sudden bitterness flashes across Animus' face. "And my life's supposed to be worth more? You've seen how I fight, how I can't even deal with combat stress without shutting out my intellect. It's why you're a First, Josh. You stay calm enough to keep everyone else alive. That's important. Besides, I've got too much bound up in both of you to just give up on either of you like that."

Suddenly he turns toward Triquetra, clasping one of her hands between both of his own, gaze intense as he looks into her eyes. "You felt it, didn't you? How limp I went when she took you over? I couldn't fight back, couldn't even have tried to defend myself if you'd ..." The Thyrsus' throat constricts, cutting off any remaining words.

For a moment, he just stares into his lover's eyes, one hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, before finally seeming to find his voice again. "Just the thought that I might accidentally hurt you was too overwhelming. That's what kept me rooted in place until you broke away."

"We have a Master and an Adept of Life...we should avoid dieing." Of course, saying stuff like that always sounded easier than it was. Even if that much Life magic it was also a lot easier than it otherwise would be. But all the talk of sacrifice was beginning to discomfort her. Especially when the attack on her mind was brought up again, she didn't like thinking about that....at all. She certainly didn't want to dwell on what else might have happened. So she opted to change the subject with all the grace and subtlety of, wait, scratch that, she didn't bother with the grace and subtlety. No one was really being all that subtle here anyway

She shifts her weight a bit, awkwardly, from foot to foot; glancing down at the table. "We should come up with a symbol then."

Joshua finds his coffee to be of great interest while the two Thyrsoi get all emotional, trying to give them what privacy he could. He brushed aside Animus' reaction, knowing there wasn't a way he could convince the man of the truth: that, yes, he was worth more.

He breaks his thoughts off at Triquetra's words, seeing it as a sign that the two were ready to be a trio again. "Well. Anyone have any thoughts on that?"

Feeling the shift in mood, Animus slowly pulls away with an apologetic look toward Joshua. Even so, he seems to have a harder time changing gears than the other two, and maintains a pensive silence for a long moment before speaking. "I like the imagery of the phoenix, emerging young and whole from the ashes of the old. Perhaps we could work something around that?" I might never be whole, but it's because of them that I even come close.

For her part, Triquetra seems all too eager to seize the change in topic, after having a bit of her juice. "Yeah, Phoenix seems like it would be a good fit." It'd even kinda allude to a life and death theme too, which fit for a Cabal with two Thyrsoi and a Moros. That sentence, though, is followed by a beat of silence as something occurs to her. "Can either of you draw well...or something?"

Animus shrugs. "I'm decent at drawing. I wouldn't say great, but something this meaningful, I'll work at it until I get it right. However much effort it takes."

"Yeah, I'm not really artistic," Joshua says. "But I can help with making it, once it's designed. How do you want to carry it? Jewelry? Design on an undershirt?" After a moment he adds, "Tattoo?" Forcing the enemy to rend his flesh would certainly make it hard for the emblem to be stolen; plus, it kinda sounded like Animus' style.

Animus' eyes light up at the last option, his first real sign of excitement. "A tattoo would be perfect, I think. It has a nice feel of permanence to it, that this is something that will last."

Triquetra presses her fingertip to Animus's scar, a fingernail lightly tracing the length of it before eventually coming to rest on the upper arm. "On the bicep?" And the finger taps lightly on the scar as she makes the suggestion. He'd acquired it right about when he awakened, kept it as a reminder of what he'd been. Perhaps the symbolism of what he was now could be added to it?

Animus shivers under Triquetra's touch, memories and emotions bubbling up through the years. The Verge. Confusion, fear, helplessness. The improbable rescue. The touch of the Supernal, and certainty. That he would never need to wait for luck. That he could shape himself into what was needed.

Finally, he returns to the present, a smile playing across his face. "That would be wonderful. It's too personal to leave the design to someone outside the Cabal, but perhaps once I draw it up, Rosh could do the inking?"

Joshua nods. "That's a good idea. Keep it 'in house,' sort of. Once you've got it designed, I'd like to see it. I want to try and make something for the three of us and integrate that into it."

Triquetra shrugged at the mention of Rosh doing the tattoo. She didn't really know anything about whether he was good at that kind of thing or not...or care much about who actually inked the tattoo. At least so long as it didn't include any Atlantean runes or something else that sleepers shouldn't see. But then, if it did it shouldn't really be getting tattooed onto him in the first place. So that hopefully wouldn't be an issue. Joshua's remark, though, piqued her curiosity. "Integrate it into what?"

"I'm not sure yet," he answers. "You and I both use knives, so that's crossed my mind... but he has little use for one," the Moros adds, jerking a thumb at Animus. "So maybe leather jackets? But then that becomes gang-like, very 'The Outsiders.' But something like that. Something practical that I can give a bit of an edge to." He shrugs and sips his coffee. "I'll have to think about it."

Animus pauses for a moment, considering. "I'd be wary of anything that I'd have to leave behind if I shapechanged, but maybe you could make something for yourself and Triq?"

"I can shapechange too, doesn't mean we shouldn't carry around nice things." She shrugged, "We can always plan ahead, or make arrangements, or hide them so we can come back and get them later, or something."

Joshua waves all this away with a faint smile. "It's just an idea, right now. Nothing's set in stone, it's not strictly necessary." He's quiet for a moment, considering something. "I have a question," he says, slowly, as though trying to hold the words in even as they slip his grasp. "What are we doing? Or, wanting to do? As a cabal. Do we have a goal? Or are we just trying to survive? To exist, in this city?"

Animus glances between his two Cabalmates, pondering. Flashes. A mental blast, wreaking havoc with Triq's nervous system. An arrow ripping through Josh's flesh. A shiver runs through the Thyrsus' body. "Around here, sometimes just surviving is difficult enough. But if there isn't something to reach for beyond just ... breathing, what's the point? I think we're in a position to be able to protect the Consilium and its members. Perhaps that could be a goal?"

"Isn't that part kind of implied? I mean...we're two Arrows and a Guardian." And protecting was what those two Orders did. Albeit, in much different ways, usually. Not that she really had any better ideas. She supposed she'd always viewed it as more of a support structure, a way to settle down and find her place in the city, than anything else.

Joshua nods to Triquetra's point, "That's mostly what we do already. I was just wondering if there was anything... more, I guess. Is there something further we want to accomplish?" If he's got any ideas, he's keeping them to himself for now.

Animus shakes his head as if to chase off a particularly annoying fly. "I feel like there should be something more there, something to reach for. But it's just ... not coming to me." He frowns slightly. "Maybe I'm just trying to be too much."

"You are," and there's a plain, simple, sincerity behind the words. "You put all the responsibility on your shoulders, you take the blame every time something goes wrong...you'll tear yourself apart if you keep doing that." One hand rises to gently cup his cheek. "You need to accept that some things aren't your fault...are out of your control..."

Some of the tension bleeds out of Animus at Triquetra's touch, and he looks into her eyes, gaze softening. "But the Consilium is my responsibility, as Hierarch. Who else would look after it, if not me?"

Joshua glances away, again feeling like he was intruding. "It's not your responsibility," he says to the wall. "Not just yours, anyway. Everyone in this city bears some of that responsibility, and all of them bear the blame when things go wrong. Maybe you--we, us, by dint of our positions and our time here--bear more than most, but that still doesn't make you Atlas, holding the whole world on your shoulders." He looks back to the two Thyrsoi with a shrug. "Maybe that's our purpose. Getting you to realize that."

Animus' gaze flicks back and forth between the two, almost like a trapped animal. Didn't he already entrust his life to them? Could he truly doubt their words?

A shiver runs through him, and emotions well to the surface, bringing with them a sense of vertigo. He shakes his head, fighting against an urge to draw inward. "It's not easy, just letting go. I'm not sure ..." The Thyrsus' face betrays a confused mix of hope and fear as he trails off.

"A lot of things aren't easy...but they should still be done." That was certainly something that had been drilled into her as she learned of the Guardians. The sacrifices some of them had to make, or chose to. She'd never truly stopped worrying about whether she'd ever be called on to do the same. "But Joshua's right, you can't blame yourself for everything. That's why we have Coniliums...Orders...Cabals...so no one has to shoulder every burden."

Joshua sees the confusion welling in Animus and turns around, hoping that removing his attention from his friend will help ease the pressure. "And Triq's right. The necessary path is rarely the easy path," he adds, busying himself with the coffee pot and his mug, taking longer with it than any able person should. If they were going to start kissing, he didn't need to see that.

Animus' gaze falls as Josh turns away, saddened. Slowly, ever-so-gently, he clasps Triq's hand in his own, tugging away from his cheek. All the comfort in the world wasn't worth alienating his friend. "I'm trying, I really am. But it's going to take time. It's hard work, trying to break past the ... fear?" On the last word, a hint of surprise, as if not quite sure of his own emotional state. Fear of what?

"Fear of what?" It was as if she could read his mind...or that it was the natural question everyone would be tempted to ask with the way that sentence ended. And she'd never really been all that good at stopping herself from blurting out questions in most situations.

Even if it could sometimes be something of a mood-killer.

The question is greeted first with a moment of silence and a look of intense focus. As the Thyrsus finally shakes his head, the way he carries himself becomes just a bit more animal-like, and his voice shows more than a hint of strain. "I ... I'm not sure."

"Well, you recognize that it is there," Joshua says, turning back with his mug steaming. "That's the first step to dealing with it. You need to get it to a point where you're using the fear, instead of it using you," he adds, thinking of the Fourth Phalanx.

Umm...now they were getting into all that psychology-babble stuff...deep-seated fears and all that. She really had no idea what she was talking about when it got to that. There was a reason Thyrsoi always struggled to learn the Mind Arcana...probably. So for now she simply let her hand find his. Giving it a comforting, reassuring squeeze.

Animus flashes an appreciative smile at Triq's gesture, but the grin vanishes as quickly as it appears. A moment later he turns to Josh, voice soft, weariness in his eyes. "I know. It just ... completely blindsided me. Like ... slamming into a wall where I thought there was open field. It's just really draining." Eyes drift away, briefly flicking toward the bowl of oatmeal sitting fornlorn and quite cold on the countertop.

Joshua thinks back to previous Arrow sessions, designed to build trust. Remembers West, akimbo pistols at the back of a recruit's head, asking Orphan which gun was loaded. Remembers shock as the trigger was pulled, remembers Ankh with blood on her hands as she tried to save a life.

Clearly West's lessons would not be an option here. He had no idea what would. Perhaps a shift in skillset was necessary...

The Moros puts away his thoughts and says, "Yes, I know about being afraid. Feeling worn. Being empty, as though you were just a suit the fear was wearing." He tries to sound as though he's put his own fears behind him; as though they weren't something he struggled with every time he thought of the Supernal.

Animus nods listlessly at his fellow Arrow. "I'll get past it, because I have to. But right now this is just piling on top of everything that happened yesterday. It just needs time."

Time ... to feel my lover stab me to death, or watch my friend get cut down? The Thyrsus shudders, trying to force away the sudden thought. A dream, nothing more.

"Hey, one thing at a time right?" Whatever Gods may have existed certainly knew that Mages all had way too much to deal with than they should ever have to. Between the Abyss, Banishers, Seers, paranoid conspiracy-theorist superiors, juggling any mortal connections, and who knew how many other little things that were always crop up. Trying to deal with it all at much seemed a sure way to get your mind to snap. Which was why she always tried to make sure not to deal wit it all at one. "You have to come to grips with one thing before you worry about the next, you can't worry about all that stuff at the same time.

That's not true, Joshua thinks; because of course there was no reason to think their enemies, or the circumstances of life, were going to come at them one-by-one like mooks in a Steven Seagal movie. But pointing that out wasn't going to help. Instead, he just nods. "That's probably best, taking some time to let things process. We don't need to tackle this right away," he says, knowing that as soon as the conversation was over he was going to go think about ways to take care of the situation.

Animus cracks a small, tentative smile, feeling a bit of the pressure lift. Still, something had really scared him, and not knowing what was already taking its toll. "For now, maybe I'll feel a bit better with some food in me. Then maybe I can start trying to sort things out." He turns and carries his oatmeal to the table, grimacing slightly at its coldness.