So That Happened...

[Star]

"Firehouse."

...

Well, Firehouse To-Go. Some conversations just weren't meant for booths made of chrome, vinyl and formica, shrouded in Cones of Silence. Back at Four Walls, the Angel deposited the brown bags of take-out on the concessions counter and opened the styrofoam containers, letting the scent of boiled and fried cajun food waft throughout the Sanctum.

Eventually, it was set out and while Avis was occupied he gave her a little side bump.

"Firehouse. Remember Firehouse? That was totally, like, the first time you wanted to kiss me. I could tell. You kept grabbing your water glass to stop yourself. It was so adorbs." A teasing grin reflected in the large mirror behind the counter before the Angel slid into a booth. "Anyway, so."

A crab leg cracked before flopping to point at her and finally ended it's tour of the Sanctum in a little cup of warm butter.

"Now that I've totally just, like, vanquished the dragon, enslaved the trolls, and rescued the princess, like, what was that about, anyway?"

Now that? That deserves King Crab legs.

[Avis]

"Mmhmm. Kissing. That was definitely what I was thinking of," Avis agree with subdued humor, recalling fleeting moments from that long ago meal: cool glass, sweating against her hand, breath fogging the top of the glass, glacial water filling her mouth and ice hitting her teeth; and Cut, regarding her with mischievous intensity, no matter the spill of red running down his face, nor the shrimp fork protruding from his cheekbone.

Yup. She'd totally been thinking about kissing.

Thankfully, he changed the topic, and there were crawdads to be head. And shrimps.

It had been way too long since she'd had shrimps. And they were shrimps. Not shrimp. Sadly, however, she couldn't hide behind a mouthful of shrimps forever.

"Well, honestly...that's more complicated to answer than I'd like it be," she expressed finally, brushing at delicious dabs of sauce off of her lips with her napkin.

"Things became a lot more hostile than I'd originally intended. I just wanted to talk. Get ideas circulating and in the air so they could be shot down like clay pigeons or let to fly free. But instead battle lines got drawn. Whatever. End of the day, it's like I said. Miach told me that he didn't care about freedom, all he cared about was redeeming his sins and not dying. And he refused to acknowledge that the idea of turning the communal ground into a literal fucking private prison wasn't fucking...anathema to what we stand for," she explained, nostrils flaring as she struggled to find the right words.

"I mean, he didn't even get why it offended me. Like, at all. And that's when I realized that he, like, totally didn't get it. That he, somehow, had bowed and scraped his way through the ranks. Which, really, is pretty fucking ridiculous. You'd think high and mighty Tyria with her goddamn voyeur time scrying would be able to tell her subordinate was less educated than an apostate."

[Star]

"A... prison?"

The cacophonic symphony of shell cracking paused. There were other words, words that begged though, but those were the ones that ended up being a 'Stop' sign.

"I mean, metaphors aside, prisons are just, like, awful." True story. Fun fact? Most prison sentences have more to do with current political climates and system funding than the actual crimes they're assigned to. "Did someone really, uh, suggest that? Also, like, total tangent but it's a good spot for it, sorry I wasn't there. There as in, the pow-wow you had for the communal thing. I just don't want you to think I'm not about that, or don't support it, just, like, that... hmm. I want it to be your thing? Does that make sense? An Avis thing, not a Vee Tee thing, or Us thing."

Tangents are also good for percolating. The cracking and dipping resumed. There's a calm cadence to it, somatic balm from the turmoil of thoughts and words that had come before; now, and at the Museum.

"But, anyway. Miach. Do you think it's because he's a doctor? Like, you know, has years and years of, I dunno, med school brainwashing?"

Because Fallen Science is the debbil.

[Avis]

"Yeah, Miach literally suggested that a private prison was a good idea for our Communal Ground. Which, I mean, wasn't that far off from a locked rehab center, which I think Truce suggested, but fucking still."

Avis through her napkin down, and ran a hand over her face, the muscles over her shoulder blades feeling like they were tying themselves into knots.

"It's just...It's frustrating. Here I thought that creating a space for our community would help bring us together, but instead all it's doing is showing me how fucking fractured we are. I mean, I wanted to involve everyone. I didn't want it to turn into a giant argument, or lead us to discovering just how much the fallen world still grips peoples' minds, but that's where we're at, I guess. I'm just...I'm feeling sick."

[Star]

Was this one of those Physical Contact moments? Where she'd find solace and comfort in a pat or squeeze of fingers that would leave a buttery patina of commiseration behind?


"I'm sorry."


The eating stopped, long fingers slowly drooping like wet willow branches to fall still. The prison? Totally wack. Same for a rehab. Why? Because they're both prisons for behavior modification. Control. But the words moved past that; beyond anger -- and if everyone's being honest a little Personal History -- and into forests where the trees weren't made of flash paper.

"But... I'm not surprised." Thin arms moved forward, bracing the Angel's lean. "I mean... look at us. This city. Or Consilium. We've got a Hierarch that no one really knows, and as far as I know? The Orders never meet. Or the cabals. The leaders, that is. Sure, they see each other at Consilium, but what is that, really? Just updates from a couple of people, news that things are still messed up."

It's a broken record, or up-sampled MP3.

"It's hard to, like, buy in to anything. And, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying you had a Bad Idea? I'm just wondering if, like, you'd convened the Pentacle leaders or Sigil Holders it might not have... been different."

Building something isn't easy, yo. Take it from someone who's Order is usually tearing things down.

"You ever notice how... we never do anything... fun? Not like, you and me. Or even the cabal. Like, the Consilium. Even that Arrow Field Day thing got all wacked out because Leo started slinging Fire. But have you? Noticed. I mean, it's been almost two years that I've been here, and... nothing. Of course people can't agree on anything because all we do is get together to Duel or have trials or point fingers."

Legit? Hadn't even realized it until he said it. Not even Sanctum-warming parties. Or Adept or Mastery recognition celebrations. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

"We could, you know. Have a party? Maybe a jam session? I know we can play. Crowley's a musician. Faye does, like, performance art. Maybe there's other people that do stuff, too. Your idea, bring everyone together, but, just for fun. Nothing to decide. Or argue about."

Because maybe what they needed to build first? A community.

[Avis]

And just like that, Star had struck to the heart of what she'd needed, that beautiful, beautiful mind revealing what she'd needed to see. Which wasn't surprising, really. Where some were only magicians upon the stage, Star was a magician in the way he lived his life. Revelation, of both that which was, and that which appeared to be, was an art for him, even if he didn't always recognize it...or appear to.

"Then fuck it. Let's do it. Let's throw a party," Avis replied, her gaze fixed intently upon the shifting blue and green hues of Star's eyes. "Like we talked about doing when we first created VT, except we can use the communal ground instead of the Sanctum.

"And ya know what?" she added, a moment later. "I bet our cabal now will be able to throw a hell of a party."

Shrimps set aside for now, Avis pulled out her phone and sent Varyx a text, seeing if she happened to still be in the Sanctum.

[Star]

There it is.

A Fire Upon The Deep.

Or maybe, there she is. Kind of funny, that there's no hints of the volatility in the murky depths of the fen. Or maybe there was. He'd given up a long time ago. Kryptonite, yo. Was he staring? That's okay, right? Staring at your Intervallutrix, getting lost in the glades?

"Umm, okay." The phone broke the spell. "Oh, but, like, wait. Just, ummmm, give it, like, a week or something? I've got to go up to Redding or Eureka for, uh. I don't even know. A couple of days? Plus travel. Maybe two weeks, tops. But, yeah. Let's do it."

A hand reached over and totally did not steal a shrimp. Communal. Property.

"I'll, uh, make sure I do all the laundry before I go, so you don't have, like, to do much. Or any. I can cook, too. Like, put stuff in the fridge. Labeled."

Just takin' care of her.

Because no one needs to come home to two straight weeks of pudding cups and dirty... socks.

[Varyx]

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Varyx was already on her way out into the kitchen from her room, drawn by the smell of shrimp that was starting to drift out into the rest of the Sanctum. The phone went off in her purse as she was on her way out the door, so she stopped to grab it and pick up the message. She was already in view of her two cabalmates when she actually read it, and looked up from her phone, grinning.

"You called?" She sauntered over to the fridge and got out some juice, pouring herself a glass. Because yes, she had just heard Star offer to cook and put little labeled meals in the fridge for his wife.

Varyx was not, in fact, a teenage girl. She was not going to explode from the cuteness of it. Even if it took her a second or two to make sure - hence the juice. It made for a good excuse to take that moment she needed. "So, what's this I hear about a party?"

[Avis]

"Yeah, we're gonna throw a party," Avis replied sedately, nodding slowly. "It's gonna be great, Varyx. There's gonna be balloons, everything will be pink, and we'll have a princess cake. If I'm lucky, maybe someone will get me a trike."

The fens flicked back over to Star, meeting his eyes for three long seconds, the slight arc of a smile curving the edge of her lips. She knew he'd get the message: she wasn't a kid. Pre-made meals and laundry might be nice, but she didn't need to be cozened with them. And, if the trip made him nervous then he should be looking elsewhere.

Still, to make sure he knew no ill will was met, a shrimp was playfully tossed from her plate onto his and then she turned back to Varyx.

"Seriously, though, we're gonna throw a party. Music, dancing, food, the whole deal. Whole Consilium will be invited. Maybe that'll help things get better."

[Star]

"And ice cream. It's not a party without ice cream."

Uh huh. Bet she wouldn't be mad, though. But, hey. Here's the plan. Prep the meals, then see how many are missing. A tongue was unceremoniously stuck out. Besides? There's always that scene in the movie where people stare the night sky and imagine they're looking at the same star. Why not have a meal 'together'?

"Oh, uh, hey." Buttery fingers waved at Varyx. "Yeah, that sounds like fun, right? Everyone, like, getting together for, uh, something other than, you know." Here come the finger quotes. "Business. Consilium business. But, yeah, just to, you know."

"Like, we," a hand gestured at Avis, "Talked about a band once. And Faye does, like, performance art? Not like it's a talent show or anything. Just a thing. I guess, like getting to know each other? Beyond the usual Path, Order, what Artifact did your cabal steal and hide."

Maybe they'd even have mead.

"I dunno, what do you think? You know everyone, right? Like, now that you're Herald?"

And was in one of the other cabals. Shhhhhhh.