An Empty Nest

[Campanella]

Campanella looked at Briar Rose.

Then at the helmet.

"No. We shall use my car instead."

A car was civilised. Campanella was not some post apocalyptic road warrior. No matter how much his Cabal mate attempted to turn him into one. He fully expected her to buy cask wine and guzzle it on the way home.

In the car.

From the cask.

And probably leave none for him.

[Briar Rose]

She snorts, "Spose you don't want the helmet hair."

A faux put upon sigh, "Fine" she shelves the helmet, and pockets her keys.

Ambling over to the Alchemist's car, waiting for it to be unlocked, she fixes her air. Changing it up from what she's put it into to help with the helmet air, and finger combing it out. After she slides in (and buckles up), "Next time we do this, you pick. I wont even complain if I gotta wear a dress."

What was she doing, promising a next time.

[Campanella]

Campanella led the way. As they approached his vehicle, he unlocked it with a curt, yet casual, gesture with his fob keychain in hand. He even played the gentleman and opened the passenger door for Briar Rose ; waited patiently while she raked her fingers through her brightly coloured hair. When his Cabal mate slipped into the vehicle, he gently pressed the door closed behind her, then slipped around the other side. He deposited his coat casually on the bench seat behind them, than dropped unceremoniously into the driver's seat.

The Moros allowed himself a theatrical pause when Briar Rose spoke again. He gave her a wicked little side look and an impish smile by way of response, bought his car roaring to life...

Then drove off smartly and in a most boring and professional manner. He drove to the mall.

"I can see this is going to be a terrible meal. Shall I pick up some antacid's while you grab the... food? You know, in case your misadventure causes us heartburn or indigestion. Or something too tedious for your noble Art's to fix."

And while the question hung in the air - and while an (in)convenient traffic light summoned them to a halt.

"Do you... really... have any dresses? I wouldn't want to cause you to have to go and buy one..."

[Briar Rose]

She smiles in thanks as he gets the door for her, wanting to analyze it,

(was this him being polite? did he want something? was tonight more then an broken cabal's outing?)

A laugh. This was weird. And new. And more weird. Glancing at Campanella from the corner of her eye, she wonders if he'd always been this teasing, and easy to banter with, or if her negligence in her commitment to actually leave had signaled something in the Moros.

(was it that she was here and the others weren't?)

"I think you're underestimating what I'd use my oh so noble Art for." she replies, smirk sharp and eyes bright. "You'd probably be legitimately appalled with what I've done with Life." she tells him, eyes not on the Moros but on the scenery, it's been a long while she's been a passenger. It was weird.

"I do not have a dress." she says, turning to look at Campanella, she had a duffle bag, with her jeans, her tee shirts. One pair of good boots, a green jacket and her favorite leather one. "But I can buy a dress. No biggie." she says, offering up a bold faced lie. Buying a dress, settling down. All the biggie. Big ol big-bigness.

Setting her jaw, she locks her eyes to the streetlights, and not the Moros. Nope. Not looking at Campanella.

[Campanella]

Campanella was silently chuckling. His face glowed as he turned his attention to driving.

"Oh I am sure I would be most appalled. So shock me! Tell me what you've done with your mastery? Say I'm curious... I'm altogether too conservative in my use of the Art. Not very imaginative at all."

A frown. A stab of guilt. Aurora confessing her inner agony over what she wrought on some Seers of the Throne. Fish.

But the words had already left his lips.

[Briar Rose]

"You have magic. You can rewrite the very fabric of this fucked up schmorgesborg of lies. And you don't use it? I don't get it. It's a tool and a skill, to have it and save it for the 'right time'." she snaps out, already regretting her tone. "Fuck." she says, but it sounds like 'sorry'.

"Besides the obligatory purging the system to dance right into sobriety? Hm." she peaks at him from the corner of her eyes. She could give away her only Fate Rote and how she spams it to help with her Monthly Rits, but that isn't appalling, that's just because she fucking lazy. "...I've gotten out of talking to people by making them drunk off their asses and thrown outta bars...." she can't say what's she actually done. What she wants to do.

Why the fuck did she bring it up?

Stupid bitch

[Campanella]

Campanella bends an attentive ear. He does not resist her chastisement, nor does he contradict her assessment.

He waits.

"That is what I do. Save it for when it is necessary. It is dangerous to touch the Supernal. Besides, your magic sounds lighter and more visceral than mine. Stygian Arcana are... heavy... slow... cold. Like wielding a glacier. Or pushing a boulder up a hill - changing the substance of an object is difficult until a certain point is reached and it can be so easy to overstep when that happens."

"I've struggled to make a shield of water; and bent a metal door completely out of shape by exerting a little too much... force."

A pause.

"I could stare at the world for hours using Supernal Vision. Do you know how long it took me to learn that particular trick? I believe most Awakened here do it with ease."

Or they did when the Consilium had been flooded with the Mighty.

[Briar Rose]

She finishes her bit and the way the flesh and bone can snap and warp is dancing through her mind. Thankfully her Cabal mate is a Moros. A thought slicing through her, freezing her from the inside out.

did he know Mind?

She eyes him as he begins to speak,

was he scooping her thoughts outta her head like a melon baller could scoop an eye?

She's quiet for far too long, fearing making sure he isn't. he can't

"Sounds cold." is the stupid comment that breaks through the ice in her throat. She coughs, clearing it. "Sorry. That's. I honestly don't know anything about those that walk the Path of Doom." which had always sounded very dramatic to her, but fuck it, if there was anyone that needed some dramatics in their lives it would be the Mori. "S'good metaphor, you remember when - wait. No. The house was with Star and Winter. Kay, so." she licks her lips, "Abyssal fuckery, ya? So, Life. I. Gave myself talons. You shape and mold your fle-form. It's like, freedom and purpose. It is running...without equal, and trust. Yourself. Your instincts. It's...." she looks up, a small smile, fitting weird in her mouth.

Looking up to Campanella, then away.

"I look out on the city with my Second Sight." she admits. "Then I paint what I see, as big as I can make it." Quiet, the world driving by, "Maybe someone will look at it and See."

[Campanella]

Silence.

Campanella was chewing over the Thyrsus' words with half an eye on the road. He missed a light (thankfully the street was empty). He didn't seem to notice.

"Yes. I suppose that is how the Primal Wild would feel. Instinct."

Another silence as the Moros returned his attention to road. Soon enough the mall came upon them in a flurry of neon. He was frowning as he started the contest of wills that the Sleepers called... parking. Maybe that Puck had the right idea - a touch of Fate would certainly speed up the process.

"Are you sure you're not harbouring some Ladder intentions? Giving the Sleepers a hidden message in your paintings sounds right up their street. Especially if it helps someone on the path to their Awakening."

There was a mischievous curl to his lips as he spoke. Of course, the Mysterium might employ a similar tactic as well - well, some might.

Oh he wanted Briar Rose to bite at that one, but he played a subtle game. Once he spoke he found - or took, more like: snatching a newly vacated space from a small, tremulous person half hidden in a very big SUV - a suitable spot and parked smartly. He was already unclipping his seat belt and sliding out of the door.

[Briar Rose]

Did that sound derisive? 'Cause it sounds derisive to her. There's a click as teeth meet teeth. Molars sliding together as her jaw sets. If she was someone else pride and superiority tinting her actions, she might have barked back, that it was more that it was colour and vibrancy and life. But she wasn't and so she stews.

Awkwardly, and stilted the silence. Campanella searches for a place to park, where as she could have slide though any number of places. Like fuck, why would you give up the maneuverability of her bike for the bulk of a car? Just to talk to the passenger. Yeah. no.

The Shaman snorts, what could have been teasing shredded by the weight of assumptions. "Me? Yeah no. I mean look at me." gesturing to herself, all scowls and hard lines. "I'm the furthest thing from a Théarch."

Clawing at the buckle, she presses the release, and reaches for the door. With more force then necessary she shoves it open, nearly jumps out before slamming it closed. Shaking her head she pulling in a breath through her nose and chokes on it, before spitting it out.