(1803) Sanctuary 14

[Campanella]

"An Arrow," Campanella murmured in response.

"You are most welcome. The Pentacle is in a parlous state here and it would be good to have some reinforcements."

He inclined his head.

"Campanella. Moros of the Mysterium."

He gave a welcoming gesture as well, offering her a place in their small circle.

"Tell me, how much have you heard of the situation in this city?"

[Aurora]

Meeting up with someone? Were more coming?

“Well, welcome Hamia. And here you go,” she hands over one of the cups. “If you want cream or sugar, they’re in this bag,” she holds up a small paper bag, “help yourself.” A smile.

Glancing towards Campy, “I haven’t run into anyone else, but there is always room for more here.” They could use any reinforcements that came.

Smirking to Samael, “You were in a coffee shop, it was only a matter of time before I popped by.” She says with a laugh.

Oh, name time!

“I’m Aurora, a Thyrsus and currently an Apostate.” It felt weird to say that, she had been a Ladder for as long as she could remember.

Nodding, “Please, come join us and tell us more about yourself. Sorry for the lack of chairs, I’ve been working on that.”

[Sand]

Time. In Newton's physic's, linear. Einstein had proven otherwise with mathematics. But those who had experienced a first kiss or an accident already had already known. Time wasn't linear.

Flowed. Sped up. Stood still.

Tuesday knew time. Technically Tuesday still knows time. Just wasn't around to say so.

No Tuesday butts on clocks pondering time. Sacramento Time. In the more literary sense. Past, Present and Future.

Stopping short just past the door.

No Tuesday butts and/or backs on the floor.

Campanella shoes yes.
Aurora shoes yes.

Unknown shoes #1 yes.
Unknown shoes #2 yes.

Had she lost track of time? Most likely. Most likely.

[Hamia]

Their reception lends her some confidence. Her eyes find purchase, again, on the speaker. Samael. ​She eyes the other two at the mention of 'accidental meetings'. Her own understanding of accidents leaves her questioning how true that statement might be.

"I understand caution. People aren't always happy to see strangers popping up in their sanctuaries." Her eyes stray long enough to give a smile to the 'coffee aficionado'.

She rather gratefully accepts the coffee, a few creamers, and the reception each of them gives her. As much as she can. Trust, after all, is earned. Both ways. "Thank you. I take it things are quiet, then?" Mysterium and Ladder influences on a tiny group like this... politics are probably the least of their worries. Which would explain the Apostate's comfort amidst the rest.

Good.

The last thing she needs right now is drama. She's had enough for several lifetimes.

"Not much.", she says to Campanella, taking a sip of her coffee. "My plan had been to scope things out. I wanted to get a feel for things here." She doesn't add in how this was supposed to be a group effort. Which would have been a little less awkward.

"I'm comfortable standing. It's a military thing." she says with a shrug. "I don't really know where to begin about me. Um... Sagittarius? Can't function without coffee?" Her hand floats in front of her mouth as she laughs at her own joke. "I'm an Acanthus - which probably has saved my life more than once. With luck and timing on my side, I was almost unstoppable." That may have sounded like she was bragging. She shifts her feet and clasps her coffee cup with two hands, close to her chest. It fills the same purpose the satchel had; creating a barrier between herself and the strangers she's surrounded by.

With the next arrival, 'surrounded' becomes even more real. Hamia only glances over her shoulder at other blonde. Without some kind of queue, she isn't even certain this newcomer is a friend.

[Campanella]

Campanella clocked the last member of his Cabal as she made her quiet entrance.

"Sand! Come join us and meet Samael and Hamia!" He gave a welcoming gesture, urging the Obrimos to join them.

Pausing to listen to the Acanthus, he tilted his head and nodded.

"Things are quiet for the moment. It wasn't always this way. The Seers have hit us hard over the past few years. What you see is what's left of the Consilium. They attacked us through time itself - I have no idea how this was achieved and not even our last Acanthus could account for it. Thank the Oracles that we had our own allies looking out for us! Unfortunately, at worst we lost... At best we clung on through bitter defeat, denying the Servants of the Lie complete victory."

He couldn't help but sigh. Repeating the same tale of woe was becoming wearisome.

[Aurora]

Her face lights up as she see’s Sand walking in.

“Sand! We were getting worried about you, hope everything’s ok.” She greets her Cabal Mate.
She waves her over, “Come meet the new people.” With talk earlier of Samael joining the Cabal, and now someone new, she wanted Sand’s opinions and input.

Turning her attention back to Hamia, “I wouldn’t exactly say things are quiet. Well, quiet in the sense we haven’t had a direct attack in a little while.” That didn’t mean the Seer’s weren’t planning something, they very well could be. Waiting for their guard to be down before striking again.

Laughing, “Well, having another who can’t function without coffee is nice.” She jokes.

“It’d be nice to have an Acanthus once again.” Without Tuesday they were down one. Her words then brought back feelings. The feelings of being an Acanthus and being able to luck her own survival. It had been great.

The smile was returned to Samael, “Then you’ll love the blend I keep at the Sanctum. But I warn you, the caffeine content is quite high.” Fair warning.

As he mentions the Paths present and the lack of an Obrimos, she looks to Sand, “We have Sand to cover that Watchtower.” And then they had all five.

Sighing, “It’s why we have the Clock,” she motions to it, “but it has stopped working. We’re not sure why. When it worked, it helped us travel back in time to attempt to stop the Seer’s and them fucking up history.” They really fucked things up. “Well, some things have been messed with, but we’ve keep the fight going.”

[Sand]

Samael
Hamia

Looks to the bodies assumed to belong to the 2 names.
Samael - Angel of Death in Judaism. Sometimes called Satan. Male.
Hamia - unknown. Ending with 'a' usually denotation of female.

"Nice to meet you. Welcome to Sacramento."

Apologetic look is not enough but would have to be for now. At some point in the future Aurora would find a couple of her favorite energy drinks conveniently in the fridge and Campanella a book on the shelves recently added to the theater. Vanishing for a number of weeks after the loss of Tuesday wasn't a thing one ought to do to Cabal mates.

"Yeah-I'm good. Sorry about the temporary vanishing act... I wanted to clear my head after... anyways, I got lost in the math."

Aurora's comment indicated Samael and Hamia's basic facts had already been issued. Note swap would happen later, to force a repeat now would be potentially rude. On the topic of repeats though...

"You know... I've been thinking about the whole Seer issue we got. I don't want to diminish the impact of what happened or the threat that is still there but... well, I've been here a few months and we haven't had a clash with the Seers."

Modification: That they knew of. That they remembered.

Moving on!

"Again- not saying we should totally abandon and forget, but maybe it would be good for our mental state if we stopped defining ourselves based on that? I mean... Tuesday almost wore off the face of the clock with her ponderings and yet the clock is still frozen/dead/stuck/etc. Maybe we should remember, record and act... but not let the Seer's assholery be what we front our world with?"

Hesitation because maybe this was too much to ask?

But... set up of a problem inherently added boundaries to it & there was no cause to let the Seers continue to bound on their terms.

[Lacuna]

Another approaches the gothic grandeur of the Westminister replica.

An imposing women of impressive height, with short blond hair, steps through the doors with a measured confidant stride.

She is armed, the sheathed knife on her belt prices this, (but what's a blade to the Awakened? Or Anything else that hose dump in the night?) but unarmored.

There is no buzz of pre-castes work upon her, but she cannot be a Sleeper for the verry nature of this Sanctuary occluds itself from Sleeping souls.

Steeled eyes sweep the room, landing on Hamia and nodding in a silent greeting.

"Hello." she says to the rest of the wise. "I'm Lacuna." then with narry a pause, "Apostate." she admits, best get it out sooner rather then later. She didn't know if this was a Consilium that would cast her put for not commuting to the Diamond.

...or the Libertines. Since apparently they were okay. Sometimes. Apparently.