Full Disclosure

[Molly Quincannon] The last heavy, capital-C conversation (that really wasn't planned or anything on either side, but happened nonetheless) when Molly showed off her new Prime focus trailed off in a fairly uncharacteristic layer of "Don't Want to Talk About It Right Now; Your Bliss Is Not My Bliss, Is All" and since then, though Molly's been contactable and more or less talkative over channels such as AIM, Twitter and various WoW whispers, has also been busy. "Projects," she says, and often times, character limits preclude her from going into any serious detail. She's been busy, though, that much is fairly obvious.

So it's a little over a week before Molly invites Chuck over. She's picked up Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, and new games (or so she says) generally deserve at least something resembling a party, and her housemate is about half-past disenchanted with all things video game related. And all of this is true; Molly makes it a policy not to outright lie if she can avoid it, particularly not to people she cares about. Even if she's not sure what to make of said people sometimes.

Still, this doesn't mean that she's above omitting things, or downplaying any motive for the invitation that goes past "Shiny New Video Game" (and a healthy dose of "Shiny Hacked RROD-Proof Xbox 360"). So there's chips and soda and a plate of veggie bits for the snacking, a shepherd's pie in the oven and a cheerful-ish Molly at the door when Chuck rings the bell. The first thing she asks, after "How's things?" is "Ready for the Warcrack expansion? Just over two weeks now!"

[[Me? Tense? Noooooooooo. Subterfuge; more Wits than Manip but the dice pool's the same anyway.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Chuck Carmichael] [dude, you keep doing this to me lately - I may be an oblivious male, but I'm not *that* oblivious. Per + Aware-as-Emp]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Chuck Carmichael] 'Projects' if often Chuck's answer for 'what're you up to these days?' or 'what's keeping you so busy?' and so he understands; he is, after all, the lowest of low maintenance boyfriends (or whatever they're calling each other these days), and is pleased enough to leave Molly to her devices and be left to his when situations like this occur. That last capital-C conversation is far from forgotten, but has been set aside so that he doesn't dwell and ruminate and build it up into a big troublesome ball of Why-Are-You-Talking-Like-a-Mirrorshade?/Why-Are-You-Looking-at-Me-Like-I-Grew-an-Extra-Head?, as he tends to do with these things internally. He seems laid back, easy going, but that's only through overt effort on his part. This is, of course, more obvious at some times than at others; not everyone even knows Chuck holds these tendencies.

Regardless, nothing's pinging on his alarms right now - or hadn't been until he rang the bell and saw (or felt, or . . . whatever) Molly's obvious tension. There's a kiss on the forehead and he's looking at her curiously, as if she's a puzzle he may be able to put together [progress is the only constant]. It's a friendly look, though, as almost all of his are.

"Things are alright," comes first, and then, "Oh, I've got it. I was on the beta team, so what I have isn't the final product, but it's still pretty damn sweet. I'm pretty stoked for the real thing."

He doesn't ask what's up - he knows he doesn't have to, that it will come. He also knows it may well be bad news delivered rapid fire, so in the face of that? He just hopes it's not too much bad news, and that everyone is - at least for now - okay.

[Molly Quincannon] The bit about being on the beta team gets an affectionate roll of the eyes and a "Pfft. Show-off." But it's teasing, and affectionate ... even if there's something about the affection that's almost helpless, like it's not the reaction she was expecting to have. But then, she is what she is, and rides the roller coaster well enough.

He doesn't get rapid-fire delivered bad news. Mostly what he gets at first is settling-in stuff; mention of the shepherd's pie that will be dinner when they need a screen break, discussion of at least one of her projects ("Bone conduction earpiece microphone. Like on Leverage. Not so much for comms to other people, though - I want a mostly-invisible, hands-free voice activator for ForceFeed. Sometimes reaching for a touchpad is just problematic.") and ranting about 'gibbons' at work. ("They tried to heat a microwave burrito in the server box, Chuck. Why did these people get hired? What was management smoking? And why won't they share?")

It's only after they've settled, and Molly has handed off the controller to Chuck and let him play through a little ways, watching, that she asks, fairly casually, "Do you think the Mirrorshades still have your resonance on file somewhere?"

[Chuck Carmichael] She asks that question and it's remarkable how still Chuck gets; it's difficult to tell how caffeinated he generally is, how always on the move, until moments like this when it suddenly stops. And then, in those moments, it seems like something's a little bit off until he starts up again . . . which he always does eventually, of course.

"They keep everything for at least ten years, last I heard. It's changed some since then, but I've run across them since then too. So . . . I don't know. Why?"

He's not stupid, Chuck isn't. Of course he worries for himself, for what trouble he might be in now. But he worries more about . . . "I know, though, that they have my family on file still. There's . . . I have someone closer watching out for them, but still, he's not quite like us." And then, again, nervous enough that he's actually forgotten the game in front of him as his guy stands idle (or gets killed, or what have you), "Why?"

[Molly Quincannon] She watches him and his reaction. Then she nods. Apparently, this tells her at least part of what she needs to know. Beause, while he hasn't told her much and has only really dropped hints on the little bits she knows, Molly (like Chuck) is far and away from stupid, and analysis and compilation of available data is her speciality. This is about what she'd guessed.

"Because, that being the case, I'd recommend masking your resonance wherever possible," she says, answering his question with a calm that likely seems very strange indeed when compared to her obvious tension, her usual prediliction for high-speed info-dump. "They're in town. Now, I get that you've got your own caps-lock secrets. That'd be fine ordinarily. But right now ... I have stuff that sings of you. I can dump it, but I'd rather not ... because it sings of you." The USB drive with the universal translator on it, of course, amongst other things. And the reason she wants to keep something upon which one can feel his resonance ... well, she also probably has one of his sweatshirts someplace, for similar reasons. "I just ... there might be trouble, if they start scanning heavy ... and they might. I can't make you tell me. But I want to know how bad it'd be if they caught a whiff of you, so to speak. Which means knowing why they're after you in the first place. I have theories, but beyond them being after you at all - which is kind of obvious, for all the attempts at 'stuff happened'; I know what that's a euphemism for - I don't know anything. I think we've come to a point where knowing is safer than not, even if the reverse has been true up until now."

[Chuck Carmichael] "It depends, I guess, on how well whoever's here has been in communication with the ones who know about me. I mean, I know I'm in a database somewhere, but I'm more . . . a 'recruit with extreme prejudice' case more than a 'take him out, he's dangerous' one. So as long as I mind my own business and lay fairly low, I think I should be okay." He thinks, and it's almost relief that he's hearing about them being here rather than somewhere closer to where he used to live, where his family still does. "I mean, a lot of my situation with them was actually fairly personal - hell hath no fury, I guess. I'll keep an eye out, anyway, and keep my nose clean."

That's the easy part; Chuck's good at keeping his nose clean and staying disengaged. If there were a Switzerland in this particular hostile situation, it would be him - he sees merits to both sides of the argument, both sides of the coin. But that particular view doesn't make him at all popular with either side, and so he tends to keep it to himself.

"The first time they tried to recruit me, it was because I broke their intranet when I was twelve, in the process of exposing one of their projects close to home . . . when I was almost fourteen. I have an awful lot of information here," he says, pointing at his head - and given the project he'd mentioned, goodness only knows how much. "I'm a valuable asset and have more power than they want in any hands that aren't firmly on their side was the last I heard. Not, you know, magical or even financial or socio-political, but in the way that knowledge is power."

Thirteen is considerably before he Awakened, as she knows . . . but she also knows that he was marked, watched and led for quite some time before it all connected. He's told her this before.

"I was prosecuted by mundane law - FBI, mostly - and wasn't allowed to have even dial up access until I was eighteen. So I studied everything I could get my hands on about computer languages and different coding styles because there was nothing else to do, really, other than work out way more than I really needed to to keep my glucose and weight in check. Second time they tried to recruit me was in Boston. I said thanks but no thanks and broadcast a lot of stuff they didn't want known to anyone to a lot of people they really didn't want knowing. So they sent me sniper pictures of my sister and my parents, then set my house on fire. With me in it."

[Molly Quincannon] This does not come as a surprise to Molly. This had, in fact, had been on the top of her list of theories. She's known a lot about this, and suspected much more, even if she hasn't said a word. He's confirmed it now, so at least there's that. It's a balm to the curiosity, and more to the point, the recent tension between them, at least the bit on her end, dissipates a bit. His bliss is still not her bliss, but if he's worked that hard to keep out of their hands, at the price he paid ... well. It says a lot.

There's a hand on his shoulder when he talks about his family, and the house. However, the first words out of her mouth are, "You know that 'recruit with extreme prejudice' is worse, though, right? I mean, I know they make all that noise about fates worse than death, but I know about a few. They take you, they get everybody. Probably me and Emily first, because we're geeky and connected. Also because she's your cabalmate and I fully intend to be between you and them, if I can be. They get you over my dead body."

Then she sighs and runs her free hand through her hair - the other one has not left Chuck's shoulder. "For the record ... I'm sorry. Commiseration-sorry for the whole damn situation - what they did, what they almost did, what you've lost. Apology-sorry for having to ask at all. I wouldn't have - I haven't--" and clearly that's more or less eaten away at her, the Curious one "--but ... well, now it's different. They're ... they're here. And..." Another sigh. "And so you know, I'm doing some looking into it. You might want to steer clear of that particular project."

[Chuck Carmichael] "So does knowing for sure make you feel safer? Better?"

It's a bit wry, that, almost biting . . . but not quite, because Chuck is almost never biting. The entire mage population of Chicago can probably count on one hand's worth of fingers the combined total of times they've seen (or heard) him so. In short, this is an unhappy Chuck, who is not pleased to have given someone - anyone - inarguable confirmation of that part of his life. He lets her hand rest for a moment, then rises, cracks his knuckles, paces, simply moves as if he needs to in order to prevent an explosion or implosion or something similarly dramatic.

"It's not that different. Now there's a head other than mine the information could be pulled from if they wanted to do so, is all. But anyway . . ." Now he looks at her, puzzled; he's certainly aware that she doesn't like his project, doesn't understand it, that it freaks her out. But . . . "Why would I want to do that, now?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Those two terms don't go hand in hand for everyone, Chuck," she points out. "But as it happens ... yes. Because now I know the stakes for sure. Knowing that affects what I do. Might make me be a little bit more prudent so that they don't pull any info out of my head. But ... answer me this. Why would they want to pull information on what they already know you've done out of my brain? See, bit you're not getting is that I've got a sense of your resonance; your Pattern. We all do. If they got any of us, knowing or not, they could just run through a fast-forward of our memories, running the files on any resonance we've picked up with extrapolation for changes the likes of which kicking the package up a notch seems to give people, and they'd find you anyway. It doesn't matter if people know or not to them, because if they get us, they can easily find you. But it matters to me because it gives some purpose and direction to what I'm learning, it makes me consider my actions a bit more carefully and it maybe stops me taking risks that, while I figure I can handle them and their consequences, might have backlash on you. Keeping this state in your own head does not make you - or us - any safer." She shakes her head and tuts. "This from a man who barely changes his online handle when he changes his real name. I'm in love with a man and I don't even know his name. Well, no one ever accused me of being sensible, I guess."

Then she meets the puzzled look with one of her own. "Because ... depending on how I go about it, either you haven't got the power in the appropriate Spheres to help in the first place or get you busted along with me, which would be bad in the current situation. I'm either digging through the future or hacking the DoD. I haven't decided yet." Then she frowns, the perplexed look deepening. "Why? What did you think I meant?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Because I'm not going to mask my resonance all the time - that's exhausting and inefficient. However, my resonance is not unique, or even uncommon. There'd have to be suspicion that I was here for them to look my way twice, unless there here because of me, which I highly doubt. I'd be surprised if I was considered worth that kind of expense in both man hours and . . . well, expense. You now have confirmation that I'm not Chuck Carmichael. Sure, I didn't tell you my name, but you're a smart girl; you've at least suspected I was someone else for awhile, and now you know for sure." Then, though, there's a sigh; Emily knows his real name but not the particulars, Molly knows the particulars but not his real name. "Levi, by the way. [Surname that I keep changing because I don't check the back transcripts]."

Then, though, there's clarification on what she meant, when he'd gone to a defensive place (which is, perhaps, to be expected given the conversation prior). "I . . . oh. I've hacked the DoD before - needed to for a project. Was . . . not easy, but easier than it should have been. Anyway, I thought you meant my project."

[Molly Quincannon] "Aah, pronoun issues. I get that a lot. Sorry." Molly deals with the last first, adding, with a rueful sort of grin. "Anyway, point is that they probably made it harder since they figured out someone could. Hence the undecided. But hearing that it's easier than it should have been gives me hope. Depends, I guess, on when you did it. My point is that your project is your project. It's not mine to tell you to do it or not. Besides, there's only one particular bit of your project that I don't entirely agree with, or that I wouldn't do myself, or that I'm not actually pondering doing myself. I just don't want the entire layout of the mission as far as it's known at any one singular point in history, including outcomes, laid out for me. I'd rather discuss options with ... y'know, people. Different strokes, y'know? I'm trying not to be judgey here."

The name gets a bit of a ponder, then a nod. "I'll stick with Chuck; it's what I'm used to, and when I hear 'Levi', I tend to think 'Dryden'. But then, I've been playing too much Dragon Age lately. But thank you. Anyway, as to what you're worth? Given the bone-of-contention-but-I-am-dropping-it-so-please-stop-looking-at-me-like-I'm-about-to-bite-your-head-off project, your general skill set and the fact that odds are high that you'd have fallen in with a group that might lead them to more potential recruits of worth? I'm not saying they're here for you in specific - point of fact, what intel I have says they're not - but I am saying is that now that they've found some mages, and if they happen to find in someone's head a resonance and a physical description that matches what they have for you on file, under whatever name, they are going to do what I did when you started dropping hints about 'stuff happened' - they are going to put two and two together, make four, and come after you anyway. Either you're who they think you are and they've got their 'recruit with extreme prejudice', or you're not ... and they've got a 'recruit with extreme prejudice'. Keep in mind that they got hit as hard by the War and the Storm and everything as we did, and they need manpower as much as we do. If they can deprive the other team of an asset, so much the better for them. And besides, while your resonance is that common, do you think it's still common when you factor in a male of a certain age of a certain hair and eye colour at your height?"

[Chuck Carmichael] ".....I think they'd still have to be comparing that data to what they have, and if they have other objectives, I'm a fairly small fish." But while those are things that he had to have known on some level, they aren't things he'd actively considered for this. "Regardless, I'm hardly the sort to jump to center stage. I like to keep my work largely behind the scenes, so we should be pretty well set, unless there's more that you know, that I don't."

Again wry, but not so biting this time, there's a wrinkled nose. "Besides, I didn't drop hints, I outright said stuff happened. It could have just been a misspent youth, you know."

[Molly Quincannon] She considers that, then shrugs. "Then you'd be a fairly small fish to pick out of someone's head too, known or unknown. So maybe we'll get lucky and they won't catch anyone and, if they do, they won't bother running dossiers on that unfortunate's compatriots. All I'm saying is that either way, between the physical characteristics and that ... I don't know what it is about you but you're hard not to notice in a way that your height doesn't explain ... anyone who's digging around in someone else's brain is going to trip over you whether they're specifically looking or not. Now, if I were them, I'd probably have a system set to ping if the description with a certain percentile match to someone who was to be recruited with extreme prejudice turned up anywhere. It's not like it's high-intensity programming to have 'secure-progressive resonance + very tall + diabetes + uncanny sort of feel + brown hair + male + technology-based paradigm = Target 24601' ping up on a terminal or whatever where a report of that comes through after scanning some poor sucker. So people not knowing particulars doesn't make you any less safe than people knowing you. Hell, I could get away with it easier than you could; I can count on the fingers of one hand the people in this city who know my natural hair colour." Then she scrubs her hands through the aforementioned hair and sighs. "I'm not trying to freak you out. What I'm saying is ... well, that keeping people in the dark doesn't make them - or you - safer, is all."

The wrinkled nose gets one in return, and a grin, and it's all just as wry as his. "Oh, yes, because a misspent youth gets you cutting all ties with a family you obviously love and your house burning down. I did make the connection, you know. Those are the hints I mean; 'stuff happened' is just ... well, to someone from the Dissonance Society, that's what 'misspent youth' - and 'stuff happens' - means." Then she looks down at her hands and adds, "I used that euphemism with you first, I think. When I told you - or didn't - about why I left Texas. What happened to Zoot. And before you ask, no, they never got a sense of me." She sighs. "Zoot pushed back too hard against a Mind-probe and slagged his own brain in a backlash before they could get anything about us out of him."

[Chuck Carmichael] "That's . . . wow, good for him. Sort of. I mean, not everyone has the cojones to pull that."

Which is to say, he's letting the other thing go; he still thinks it's probably a non-issue (maybe it's a bit of overconfidence of his own), but is hardly going to over-argue anything that has Molly being at least a little more careful than she tends to be. Or tended to be, whatever. Though, after a thoughtful moment, he says, "It wasn't . . . I don't keep it secret because I'm worried about the people I'd talk to about it knowing. It's because if they know I've been talking, they don't know how much unless they go poking around. And it's more efficient - with the data they have at hand - to act on the already-in-place threat than it is to do the poking around. It's not just my parents and sister anymore, though it was bad enough when it was. But there's my brother-in-law and nephew, too."

[Molly Quincannon] "It was an accident," is the slightly choked reply that comes out a bit too sharp. "He was -- oh, never mind. When I said 'backlash', I meant Paradox, is all."

And then it's changing the subject, and a puzzled frown. "That ... doesn't make any sense. I mean, I don't think most people would even be able to maintain detail beyond 'stuff happened and now they want to recruit you with extreme prejudice' in the forefront of their brains anyway. You know what people's brains are like; details tend to slide into the cracks. Depending," she adds, a bit sheepish as she remembers her own total recall, "on who's getting the issues done. I don't know what you know about them that they don't want you blabbing, but ... unless you've been doing it really recently ... don't you think that they'd have patched up any holes you found, changed any protocols and ... well, wouldn't your information be dated and thus meaningless by now? I'm not trying to belittle the threat to you or your family here, but ... why would they kill your family if you started talking about stuff you found out long enough ago that, in this changing technological and technomantic world, none of it is really that much of a threat anymore?"

[Chuck Carmichael] ".....of course. I . . . nothing, silly. Anyway!"

It's a bit too bright, that, but given the tone of voice there's no way he's going to press further; it's better to just change the subject from things like personal histories and the like, indeed. Except they aren't, yet.

"Oh, upgrades happen for sure, and new encryptions, and chucking the old to bring in the new. But so does extrapolation, which is . . . well. I'm pretty damn good at it, for one reason or another. It's not quite automatic, the updating, and I obviously can't do anything with what will be around yet, but if it's been posted anywhere, I can find it. And probably have, or will soon." This is not overconfidence, but truth. "I can't keep it all in my head alone, not yet, and the indexing there is a bit clumsy, but it's coming. So, while what I got twenty years ago is largely obsolete, the stuff that I've picked up since then isn't. And fuck them if they think I'm not going to fight back in the best way I know how."

The last is said with more venom than Molly's yet witnessed from him; he may be cool and calculating, may often be distant, but then there are moments like this that make him so very immediate.

[Molly Quincannon] There's a blink, and a really puzzled look from Molly. "So ... let me get this straight. You're ... no, this doesn't make sense. You found out some things twenty years ago, and you've been picking stuff up since, as well as making your own extrapolations, which they may or may not know anything about. And ... I'm sorry, but are you actually hinting that you've been poking around in their shit recently? Or are you so confident in your extrapolation of technology and technomancy being developed in the heads of people that aren't you that you're sure you know more or less what they're going to be up to?"

She's not sounding judgemental, but she's certainly more than a little curious, and unutterably puzzled. There's too much evasiveness in what he's saying, and she wants to make sure of the conclusions she's starting to draw before she has any kind of reaction beyond puzzlement. This is generally hard for her, but dating Chuck has been an experience on a number of levels.

[Chuck Carmichael] "I don't always have to. It used to freak me out, people coming to me and always wanting to be my friend. It still does a bit, sometimes, you know? When I was little, I was cripplingly shy. It lessened as I got older, but I still . . . I don't know. I don't usually start conversations." This is something she's probably noticed; at work, he does because he has to. Outside of Best Buy and Geek Squad confines, he doesn't unless he's in a very specific sort of mood, and even then he usually doesn't start them with people he doesn't know. "People will tell me just about anything, really, even without me working at it. I'm not that confident in my technomancy really - I know I have a long way to go, and that I'll get there one day - but technology? Yeah."

He shrugs, and this is true as well.

"But mostly, I'm confident in logic, deductive reasoning, and patterns in the chaos. Also, 'recently' is relative. I haven't since I moved to Chicago, but I've only lived here for . . . less than a year."

[Molly Quincannon] The frown becomes a little less perplexed at that, though that perplexity is still there - a little more directed, though. "So ... sorry; just trying to get the picture here. They want you as a recruit, you know some of their shit, and they've got an eye on your family with a view to nastiness if ... what? You tell anyone any of this shit you know?" The frown deepens and becomes more thoughtful. "Is this what you meant when you said that AI programme you showed me was something that shouldn't be public knowledge because of 'stuff'? Just so I'm clear, because I didn't, so you know. Henri didn't need that level of AI, it turned out."

[Chuck Carmichael] "That AI program shouldn't be made public knowledge because even though it isn't magic, it's enough ahead that people would think it is, for one thing. For another thing, it shouldn't because while there are AIs all over the place, made by all kinds of teams and people, that one's very obviously mine. I don't leak my code unless it's something that should be shared; both that and the translator, there's only one person besides you who's seen it in its current format. Well, besides you and me, anyway. The last version they saw was when I was still in Boston, before the whole house incident."

There's musing for a moment, and then, "I wonder if that department is still basing their AIs on it. Doesn't matter, I suppose. So yes, there's a lot of 'stuff', and that's some of it."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly doesn't look entirely certain what to think of that, but she shrugs it off fairly quickly - suddenly, it's no surprise to her how much reverse engineering she needs to do of his code before she can come even close to using it in the magical sense. Still, the idea that she's got anything that 'they' might be using as the basis of their work (whoever 'they' are; she's not entirely sure because this got really cagey somewhere along the line but given the bent of this conversation, it could be more than just some mundane think tank) is worthy of a sideways look at her computer array.

Then she shakes the whole thing off, at least in part because... "Just a sec." She gets up, heads into the kitchen, and the sound of a timer going 'ding' is nearly drowned out by the sound of the oven door opening and something being retrieved from it. She comes back and says, "That needs a couple of minutes to cool, the shepherd's pie. There's that and salad." Which at least says that if he wants to, he's staying for dinner. There may be a lot more questions about what his life was like before running around her head, but at least the tension in her shoulders and face is amping down.

Then she goes on to say, "Well. There it is, then. I guess I've had this on my mind for awhile, but with the Mirrorshades actually running around Chicago ... I actually had to know. Too many variables in a situation that might in any way involve Mirrorshades ... never good. But from my point of view, the question is ... I have this information. Not that I intend to stick a memo on the Chantry message board or anything, but ... now what?"

[Chuck Carmichael] She has this information that he very obviously didn't want her to have, that even his cabal-mate(s) don't have, and he's not particularly pleased about it regardless of the reasoning behind asking for it. He'd given in because, while he certainly doesn't mind withholding, he didn't think an answer of 'I'd rather not say' would suffice and outright lying is far from his strong suit. (Which is to say, he still doesn't see any reason she had to know. But he's taking this, like nearly everything else, in stride - even if it isn't coming as easily to do so as most things do.)

"I don't know. I was fine with the way things were, frankly. Now I'll have to tell Em, Nico and Owen because they don't know any of it, and they probably should since I'm handing it out. I guess for the most part, though, now what is up to you. Especially since you're the one who knows what's going on, or who's here, or whatever."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly just blinks at him, staring a little when he talks about 'handing it out'. Because it's not as though getting this information despite the necessity as she saw it wasn't like pulling teeth or anything. She bites down on it, though; she just shakes her head and says, "Actually, I'm not the one who knows what's going on. I know just a little bit less than the people it happened to. Or ... no, I guess I know a little more in some ways and a little less in others. Point is that until I get to a little more digging, I don't know what else they've got beyond a half-dozen Fearless Space Marines and a doctor - not exactly a team you see wandering around derelict buildings at half-past-pigeonshit on a Sunday night, now is it? Particularly not when said derelict building is standing on a node. Anyway, point is that I didn't want to do any digging until I knew what you might be let in for if I got caught. So now that I know, I can actually arrange things so that I don't drop you in unknown shit when I get the intel we need to proceed beyond 'hide in burrows and hope they go away'. Which I think is the predominant impulse from a fair few people. Be glad I'm not Wren. I had to keep details away from her because, while the idea of hacking the DoD freaks her out, she'll happily virus-bomb the fuckers."

On that note, she's out again, returning with plates of shepherd's pie and salad. Handing one to Chuck, she says, "Well, on my end, 'now what' involves less of the hacking the DoD. Sucktastic. I was looking forward to that. But I suppose seriously esoteric mathematics could be just as fun. Almost." She looks around the main room. "I need more whiteboard. Some things are just more satisfying in squeaky marker."

[Chuck Carmichael] ".....who's Wren?" Yeah, when he's immersed in Projects, Chuck falls behind on some things even as he makes massive leaps ahead in others. It's the way things go, really - no one can master everything at once. No one can even keep up with everything at once. But then Molly's out and back again, this time with food that he accepts with thanks, though the smile is a bit tight. It makes him nervous, having this much information about himself out there. "And viruses have their uses, but dropping them on the DoD could have some massively bad results. There are an awful lot of mutually assured destruction pacts out there, after all."

He takes up a bit, blows, chews and swallows before the rest, and shrugs. "We can go shopping after dinner, if you want. Thanks, by the way - this is great. Reminds me of what my friend's mom used to make."

[Molly Quincannon] "I told you about Wren," she says easily - she knows that not everyone has her memory, so she doesn't say it as a censure, just as a point of reference. "Local Vdept, in and out a lot because she's also in the music scene. Has a tendency to throw some pretty intense beats into her stuff that is supposed to open up the brain but has caused more than a few riots." She clearly doesn't overly approve of dicking around with people's heads that way, but is letting it go in the way that she has of Chuck's project. "And no, she wasn't talking about virus-bombing the DoD," she adds with a shrug. That leaves only one organisation, of course. "She's a Disciple, and old-school. She remembers the War." She leaves it at that. She and Chuck both Awakened after the 'end', but they'll have both heard horror stories.

The offer of shopping gets a smile and, "Thanks. Might take you up on it, though we've barely even got through the first level of what I hear some of the internet cogniscenti are calling 'AssBro'. And even once I have the squeaky markers and the whiteboards, I need to ask Israel about a couple of things before I proceed. It'll be a couple of days at least before I can get started, but I guess having them here will mean I don't have to pause to shop once I get all the pieces in place. And you're welcome," she adds about the meal. "Thanks for the compliment. You wouldn't know I hacked my school records to avoid home ec, would you? And hey, if your sugars are balanced enough, maybe you could risk some of my cardamom coffee cake. Israel liked it, and that's a ringing endorsement that I think only Emily's recommendation could beat."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Oh, right. Gotcha," he says of Wren, who he still only vaguely remembers hearing about since he's had nothing (until now) to bring her up in mind (no meetings, online or off). "Let me know if you need some help, and what you want me to do."

That's about it on this project of hers, and he's vaguely contemplating others, and if he should talk to Israel, and what Emily, Nico and Owen might know and so on. But there's good food, and the mention of cake, at which he's thoughtful for a moment before saying, "I love cardamom, so I'll risk it."

And from there there's conversation and hanging out and possibly more gaming, but there's also a new and different sort of firewall in place, behind which a lot of things are hidden.

[Molly Quincannon] "Thanks, but I think I got it. Like I said, it's a Time-messy kind of thing, and I don't think you're there yet. If you get the basics at least by the time I'm ready to roll, you might be able to help, so keep me in the loop." There's an easy sort of smile at that, though yeah ... she's cagey.

Conversation and hanging out and the rest of it happens, as it's wont to do, and while Chuck has a new and different kind of firewall, it seems that Molly has one of her own up, which is new and different. It's not on bad terms, when they part for the evening, but ... well, both of them have some food for thought, and it's a lot less palatable than Molly's cooking.