She Knows Where Her Towel Is

[Molly Quincannon] After the Halloween (birthday) party and the dinner at Chuck's on the actual day of both, Molly spent the best part of the week locked in her workshop, as the idea of how to make her ideas on a certain subject work came at her due to some adorable little nerdlings dressed as Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones turning up for tricks-or-treats at Chuck's place. Now she's out and about, and part of her nearly itches to run into something new and potentially threatening or at least interesting, if only because it would give her a chance to test her new toy in the field.

She is, in fact, in a fantastic mood, and it shows. There are new things - a scarf it's probably too warm for around her neck, what looks like the corner of a bath towel sticking out of her laptop bag, and the edge of a leather bracelet or something sticking out from the edge of her jacket sleeve. There's also a definite spring in her step that suggests possibly too much coffee or sugar or glee or all of the above. She's also looking in shop windows - not for anything in particular (though she does give restaurant menus special consideration) but just out of curiosity.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley already looks as though she's been outside for a while. The Hermetic's ears and fingertips are a little reddened from the weather, which has the chill of not-quite-winter, that late autumn pall that hangs over everything gray and wet. It looks as though she's just been walking; the black wool coat she's wearing is a little damp from the drizzle that settled over Chicago a few hours earlier.

The truth is that she hasn't been in Chinatown for months. It's hard to tell. Ashley is in the same mood Ashley has been in every time Molly has encountered her (almost), a little dour and a little grim and looking altogether like the weather suits.

She sees the Ecstatic bouncing from much farther down the street than Molly likely sees her - even if Molly can sense her coming before she catches sight of the Hermetic's diminutive form. Ashley pauses. And then continues on, watching Molly look into the window of a bookshop while she makes her approach. She lifts a hand in a lazy approximation of a wave. "Hey, Molly."

[Molly Quincannon] [[Is Molly Aware of impending Jaws-theme-music-Hunger Resonance?]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] While her eye is caught by books in windows (not all in languages using the Roman alphabet, of course), there's something about that resonance, particularly when that particular area of study has been so much at the centre of one's doings so recently, that catches Molly's attention quickly enough. Ashley gets a genuinely-happy-to-see-her smile from Molly, along with a far more enthusiastic wave. "Hi, Ashley! How's things? Hope you're feeling a bit less ... um, picked on by the universe." Because at their last brief encounter, Ashley had been all-over bruised. "Friend of mine from work recommends arnica for that kind of thing. But then again," she adds, frowning a bit thoughtfully, "she also thinks that termites have been set free in her dresser drawers courtesy a network of sock-thieving gnomes. Is it wrong that I sort of hope she's right about that last one?"

[Ashley McGowen] There's a brief moment where Ashley follows Molly's gaze to the window to glance over whatever she was looking at. The Hermetic is fluent in Mandarin, and while her speaking and listening and grasp of Pinyin is far superior to her use of the traditional alphabet for casual purposes, she can read almost anything if given enough time. "A bit less," she says, though it takes her a moment to remember that Molly is referring to the Paradox she'd had in the teashop.

"I think the best thing to do is usually take your lumps. I had it get worse once when I tried to fix it." After a few seconds her gaze tracks back up toward the Cultist, lingering on the scarf. "Doing holiday shopping already?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Oh!" There was a question - that avid curiosity, of course - writ large on Molly's face when Ashley mentioned trying to fix Paradox (perhaps thinking of the bruises, the aches, the nosebleeds she's had of late; when it comes to ... well, everything, Molly goes big or goes home, and she doesn't believe in the latter). However, mention of the scarf distracts her quite handily, and one hand rises, closes on the soft wool, next to one of the embroidered rising phoenixes. Then she offers the end for Ashley to feel and says, "No, actually, this is Israel's handiwork. She made it for me; birthday present." She says those two words perhaps a little quickly, perhaps not wanting to dwell. She grins and adds, "Man, the holiday shopping, do not remind me. Do you know how hard you all are to shop for? Any idea? But! I am not going to think about it today. Today I am going to bask in my triumph and enjoy your company. So what brings you to Chinatown? Oh, and do you know where Emily got that ... char siu bao ... she had when we were here back in July? She never told me but it smelled awesome."

[Ashley McGowen] When Molly offers the end of the scarf, Ashley reaches up to touch it with more than just polite interest; she seems to be a rather tactile person (like Israel, in some ways) and likes to investigate the texture of things. Particularly since it's soft. "I didn't know that Israel did knitting," she says, with a glance toward the phoenix. "But she used to like to paint, so I shouldn't be surprised. She'd actually be able to feel out the image on that, I think."

She offers forth that fact about the Orphan because she doesn't think Israel would mind others knowing. Particularly Molly, who she's heard Israel speak fondly of on more than one occasion.

"I haven't been here in a while so I thought I'd walk down this way," she says. There's a glance up toward Molly when she asks about the tea. "I don't know where Emily got hers, but I have a teashop I go to down here. The proprietors don't speak English, so you might have a little trouble, but for all I know it's the same one Emily found." A shrug, then.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly looks at Ashley when she mentions that Israel used to like to paint; it's not surprise, exactly, but it's a thoughtful, almost inspired sort of look. An idea forming, perhaps. Then she smiles. "I didn't know she knitted either. It was a real surprise, and a really awesome one. I love my scarf. I'll almost be sad when winter's over and I have to stop wearing it. But there's plenty of time before that happens, I guess, and there'll be a lot to recommend summer when it gets here. I can use my towel! Heh; I actually know where my towel is. I am very weird, I know. But it's good to appreciate the simple things - like people who know you well enough to give you towels as more than just ... y'know, boring necessity." Then she blinks as something occurs to her. "Um ... I probably should have asked if you'd read or heard or seen Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy before I went on about where my towel is. Whoops."

Sheepishness glossed over, she lights up at the suggestion of finding a new tea shop to go to. "Oh, awesome! I haven't been down here since a ... bit of mess in September. Well, not much, anyway. And if you frequent it, it's got to be worth going to, and even if they don't have the specific bao Emily had, they'll probably have something like. And I can ask for more detail about how you are and maybe, if you're interested, show off the results of my new project. Esoteric learning for the win! Anyway, first, out of the damp and cold. Lay on, Macduff!"

[Ashley McGowen] While Ashley's literary experiments have extended far and wide, she had, before Molly, never spoken to someone who talked in stream of consciousness. The Hermetic's blue eyes fix on her face, seemingly following everything (but, indeed, with a flicker of momentary confusion when Molly mentions the towel) and waiting for the stream to run dry. "That's actually one of the ones I haven't gotten to," she says. Then there's a beat while she glances toward the corner of the towel in Molly's bag. "Why would, uh. Why would someone give you a towel?"

Clearly they are not of like minds about the appropriateness of a towel for a gift.

"They have a lot of stuff besides the tea, they should have bao," Ashley says, putting her hands in her pockets and starting off in the direction of the teashop. "What's your new project?"

[Molly Quincannon] When asked about the towel, Molly closes her eyes for a second and then opens them again, and it's clear as anything that she's quoting something when she says the next bit: "The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has a few things to say on the subject of towels. A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical value — you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you — daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough." Then she grins and, in a much less quotey-sounding tone, "To know where your towel is ... well, that's to always be prepared. Chuck knew I was a fan, so he gave me a laptop sleeve designed to look like the Guide itself, and a towel. So that I can be a hoopy frood who always knows where her towel is." The smile that elicits is a beaming but slightly dopey thing - ah, young love.

By the time they have moved on to her new project, they've likely reached the tea house, and Molly pays for whatever Ashley has ordered (as well as her own green tea and char siu bao) in a way that suggests she'll hear no argument on the subject. Once they've sat down and Molly's struggled her way out of her jacket, she extends her left wrist to show off the wide leather armband there. The armband itself tingles with the frantic energy that is Molly's signature; the feel of a newspaper office just going to press, perhaps. She pops a couple of snaps to reveal that there's technology in there - something with a tiny QWERTY keyboard and a little screen. "I've been learning Prime," she says, quietly. "I finally got the hang of it, but the interface was a project and a half. Dealing with the Platonic ideal of energy is just ... wow. I can show you the inside, if you want. It was a week of tiiiiiny fiddly bits and careful soldering and a lot of swearing. But worth it in the long run."

[Ashley McGowen] A corner of Ashley's mouth twitches in amusement as Molly quotes the book to her, explains the value of such a mundane object, and glances once toward the bath towel. "Ah," she says, when Molly's finished. Then, when she notices the goofy smile that follows, "I guess I can see the rationale. I'm glad things are working out for you and Chuck." She's known the Virtual Adept for a while. She heard about the girl problems, back before this summer.

Privately she has to wonder if Molly is going to attempt to use the towel for an instrument, and she isn't sure whether she finds that idea appalling or amusing or both. Cultists.

The proprietess seems to recognize Ashley well enough to greet her and smile and judging by the way the Hermetic's returning smile wavers in return, she might have commented on her absence too. Ashley doesn't stop to talk about it, and allows Molly to pay without much complaint other than an initial "Oh, you don't have to." But Ashley is used to people doing this, whether out of their own broad-based kindness and generosity or because they want to feed her. She doesn't object.

Once she sits down she unbuttons the toggles of her coat and leans over to look at Molly's armband. "That looks like...a really complicated device," she says, after Molly mentions all the soldering. "I wouldn't have thought you could use something like that for the Ars Vis. How does it work?"

[Molly Quincannon] While there's a lot to say about Molly and Chuck, for the moment it's said with a smile and a "Thanks. So am I. It's ... a silly fan-fancy thing, but I love it." And him, she doesn't say verbally, but ... well, she doesn't need to, given tone of voice.

The flood of words she's held back about Chuck (whether out of decorum or something else, who knows with Molly?) come out when discussion turns to Molly's new device. "Oh, is that what you call it? Ars Vis? Everybody's got such interesting bits of terminology - Israel has her words for things and then there's you and yours and I don't even know half of yours but I guess Vis makes sense, kind of like vitae and given what we're talking about? Yeah. Um. Anyway, it's not that complicated exactly? Just ... fiddly. Very very fiddly." She has been unbuckling the strap to the device as she's spoken, and she turns it to show Ashley the inside. There are very fine strands of wire on the inside - silver, copper and gold, from the looks of it - ending in wider patches of those metals with tiny symbols etched into each. "See, I saw Prime as, like, the Platonic ideal of energy, which technically makes up everything, if you think about physics and everything being charged with some kind of energy or other, and ... scientific ramblings aside, conductive metals, with the right bits of symbol-code, touched to my inner wrist, where the nerves are closest to the surface, to talk to my neurochemical energy, which in turn talks to the energy system that is ... me. And it talks wirelessly to the energy like the energy-of-me that it's already taking in and ... compare-contrast analysis, among other uses. A lot of it's complicated personal-code-speak-to-the-universe stuff, but long story short ... the universe's energy talks to me in a language that my own energy can understand. The interface," she adds, tapping on the screen and keyboard, "is so I can input other bits of data and combine it with other spheres easier. It ... probably doesn't make much sense; Chuck thinks I should be electrocuting myself on a regular basis."

[Ashley McGowen] "Our terminology's old," Ashley says, "all in Latin." Though, she supposes, Israel's probably is too; she knows some of the history behind the Willworking Israel's family does. Still, while Ashley might not be as prideful as say, Basil, there is a sort of Rightness that hedges about how she uses her own terms. She practices magic that has been perfected by a thousand years of brilliant minds and their revisions.

"I do a lot of work with something similar to Platonic ideals, myself," is her comment when Molly first begins to explain, and then she hushes to hear the rest. As it turns out, the similarities end there. By the time Molly's gotten to talking about her personal code speaking to the universe, Ashley's dark eyebrows are knitting together and there's a light, perplexed frown there. Which only persists and deepens a little when she talks about electrocuting herself.

But Ashley is used to the odd instruments other people use by now, their odd ways of explaining things. "Why do you need all of that when you know that what you're doing is magic?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Because it focuses my mind and soul and ... well, everything ... on the task at hand," she says. Evidently, she asked this once upon a time, and got some answer with which she was satisfied. "I've heard it said that the tools aren't what make the magic; it's the will of the caster. But will's a tricky thing, and with consensus fighting to change what we're trying to do, or just plain shut it down ... well, the will has to be set like cement to fight against the weight of, like, six billion or so narrow minds. And there are a lot of little mental tricks to do that, but they all boil down to the thing in which the individual has confidence. You might have confidence in the Platonic ideal, though I'm really curious about how you do a lot of work with that similarity. Me? I have confidence in my work. My tech and code and code-breaking and mathematics ... it's how the universe has always talked to me, and so it's how I talk back, and that's my magic. It's just another bedrock-hard level of belief that I can do these things; layering that sheer power of being Awake over the talents I already have to bolster my resolve and will when consensus wants to stop me."

Then she picks up her tea, hiding a bit of a blush. "It ... probably sounds really weird, but ... that's how I was taught. Work what you know." Then she looks up at Ashley, curious. "So how do you do your thing?"

[Ashley McGowen] "It doesn't sound weird," Ashley says after a moment, "just kind of roundabout. I guess I just don't get using technological instruments for magic. You know that what you're doing is your own Will and your own power, and there've been studies of magic itself and it's been codified and taught a certain way for thousands of years, and for a reason. I mean, you know it's not the technology. Like if I wrap some foil around my head and say that it gives me the power to read minds, I mean, technically I guess it could work if I Will it to, but that doesn't make it not ridiculous. I wouldn't be doing actual magic."

It's a far more generous outlook on the approach of others than she would have had even a year ago; clearly, it's still something she's trying to wrap her head around.

Molly's question brings on a sharp intake of breath and then Ashley reaches for her cup of tea. What's odd is that Ashley seems to have to actually think about it; it isn't as rote for her as it might be for many magi, particularly Adepts. Not anymore. She's been questioning, of late. Building. "Everything exists somewhere as a concept," she says, "on the level of Pure Thought, and that can be said to be at the core of reality. But those concepts are like Words - you don't have just one meaning for a Word, ever. It's layered in ambiguity and with all the changes it's made over time and it's subjective depending on who hears it. It gets that way because ideas fight for relevance and dominance the same way lifeforms do, but at the core of everything you still have this one perfect ideal, this perfect Word. Studying that has been the crux of my thesis, actually."

Ashley pauses; it's a lot of information, so she speaks slowly, in the manner of someone who is used to giving lectures. Or used to being quizzed about what they think. Someone quite familiar with a scholarly environment. "I used to think that the physical world was illusory and that was why we could Will its laws to bend and break, but now I think it's just kind of an extension of those ideals and Words. We think them into existence and so on. And when you change a thing you can change it because you're stronger than that ideal or that other Will, so it can be altered, you're leaving your mark, and you slowly get closer to manipulating the core of the ideal itself."

A glance toward Molly. "Which is a little scattered, but that's the gist."

[Molly Quincannon] As much as Molly talks, she does actually listen - unlike many talkative people, she doesn't just wait for her turn to speak. When everything is taken in - Ashley's views on how she works, how Ashley herself works her own will - there's a moment in which she nibbles on her bao, and sips her tea, and really thinks about what all has been said, analyses its implications and its meanings, before making any comment at all.

She does nod, however. Just so it's clear that Molly has heard, and understood as well as she can without actively being in Molly's head.

After that moment of consideration, she says, "I ... actually don't think we're so different, right down at the core. If I understand right, you're reaching for the core of things - of reality, of everything. That Platonic ideal, as we were saying; the conceptual truth at the core of everything, the bit that most don't see because all these other people have their own ideas of what it ought to be and bends the perception - and thus the reality, because perception is that surface, Sleeper-only level of reality, I guess you could say - into a sort of bastardisation of that conceptual truth that serves as a model people can live with but isn't what it is. You're trying to talk past bullshit to Truth. I do that too. I just do it differently and ... weirdly, I think, given our Trads? I'm more structured about it. I don't have to use devices - Entropy and Time and sometimes even Correspondence, I use what's in my head. But I find the devices help. They lay a groundwork and let me focus on what I'm trying to do, which is what I do in my everyday life; communicate, affect and alter perception until it's going in the way I need it to go. I ... may have missed your point, a little," she admits, "but the core element is there. We just talk different languages to the universe, is all. I think."

[Ashley McGowen] "Well, I use Words themselves, generally," Ashley says, "because that's how I grasp what's going on at a basic level. And I do use instruments, I guess, because it's helpful in manipulating the shell - I have materials that tie me to everything that exists here and help me channel what I'm doing. Metals and blood and skin and hair and circles. Things like that." Some of them aren't particularly Hermetic foci, either, though Ashley doesn't seem to single any of those things out specifically, includes them with the rest. Even if they're new.

"But I know that it's not those things that are doing the magic. They just sort of help put me into the proper mindset. Like a funnel. There's all that Will and desire to shape something and it helps me find the specific thing I want to shape."

After a second's pause she taps the table with her knuckles and adds, "I wouldn't call this a bastardization either. I mean, maybe at one point. But it's all relevant. It all ties together into the same whole."

[Molly Quincannon] After another moment of contemplating that, she shrugs. "I know that a lot of the Vdepts I've run with over the years seem to think that the tools themselves are the magic, but I never got behind that. We're the magic - which, in essence, is the same as anyone who just ... writes a sonnet or invents the light bulb or helps an old lady across the road or something; they're the magic and the miracle, the people doing the thing. Everything else is just details. But I try not to think of that too much because the whole point of having the ... instruments, foci, whatever is to focus the will and if you start doubting the focus of the will, then ... well, the universe takes me out behind the woodshed often enough without giving it extra ammunition by doubting my tools - and by extension my whole ability to do things with the accuracy and strength to which I have become accustomed - at a crucial period, y'know?" She shrugs and grins. "All that to say, I know it's me. But that's the point. My code and gizmos are a part of me. They're an extension of me and a piece of who and what I am. I made them with my will and passion, which is what I am trying to impose on the universe at large. Seems fair enough to me."

Then she looks around and grins about Ashley's last. "Sure it's all relevant. Never said it wasn't. But sometimes the bastardisation is entirely relevant and more than a little necessary. Like in word search puzzles; there's this whole jumble of apparently random letters, but there's words. The jumble is relevant, but you have to look past the jumble to find anything that makes some form of sense."

[Wren Jacobs] It was about then that Molly's cellphone began to gyrate. As if by strange coincidence, muttering the mention of a Virtual Adept had garnered the attention of one within the city. Or at least she had been in the city...then disappeared...now apparently back again. Wren walked along, for once her hair dressed down...her look plain Jane today. She didn't want attention after returning to the Windy City. Besides, the hair needed to breath or she would end up like Cher.

She hummed a little to one of her own songs, peering into a window as she decides on where to eat before her tune shifts, as she starts to sing-song...

~Pick up pick up...pick up ya phone...~

[Ashley McGowen] "Well, it is all Will," Ashley says, after a moment, once Molly has mentioned people doing things. "It's just that there are weak Wills and then there are stronger ones. There are weak ideas that effectively become obsolete because they can't fight for relevance and then there are ones that become prevalent. Anyone can Will the universe to change, it's just that we've crossed a kind of threshold and can do things that most people don't think is possible - we've reached a different layer that we can affect. So I don't think doubt would harm you as much as you'd think."

She picks up her cup and sips from it, her thoughts chasing a tangent for a few seconds before her eyebrows lift. She adds, "Though I think we're pretty much just using really different semantics to say the same thing. I think you had it when you mentioned a difference in structure."

There's a look toward Molly's phone, a tightening of the muscles around one of her eyes, brief, at the jingle the phone makes. "You need to step out?"

[Molly Quincannon] Wren, like everyone else, has a personalised ringtone on Molly's iPhone. It might amuse Wren to know that said ringtone is 'Destroy the Dancefloor' by a band called Skindred. Molly is nothing if not clever and apt about selecting such things.

(Ashley might also be amused to know that hers is the UK Mission - Hungry as the Hunter.)

When her phone starts blaring electric guitar, heavy bass and a growly sort of Afro-Caribbean voice, Molly holds up a hand and gives Ashley an apologetic smile. "Nah," she says. "Thankfully not work. That's Wren - I told you about her. One of the new local Vdepts. Dunno if you got a chance to meet her." Then she puts the phone to her ear, eyes still on Ashley as if clearly listening to what she has to say, and seems to be speaking to Ashley rather than to Wren (though both can hear it) when she asks, "If she's free, should I point her in this direction? Hey, stranger!" That is spoken into the phone, fond and cheerful and just a little teasing. "Been making trouble outside state lines again?"

[Wren Jacobs] Wren waits until Molly greets her and in an almost basal tone which maybe even Ashley could hear through the receiver of the phone...

"FOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDD. The Jacobs is hungry, where you at?! Oh...and sorta....I had to go do a gig over in Vermont....uh...it went well. I just more or less did the opening. But seriously....I need sustenance. I'm eying people's arm and wondering how nutritious marrow might be."

Wren chuckled, ignoring the looks that a few of Chinatown denizens were giving her as she walked along, making puppy eyes of displays showing various cuisine from Chinese to West-East mix to the Japanese equivalent of a TGIF.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley can't hear the ringtone, evidently; there's no flicker of amusement there. When Molly mentions Wren's name Ashley nods, recognizing it even if she hasn't had the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the VDept as yet. "Sure, go ahead and invite her out here," she says. "I haven't spoken to her yet." October slipped away from her, somehow.

She doesn't watch Molly while she talks to Wren on the phone, giving her the chance to talk without feeling as though she's leaving the Hermetic hanging. Ashley downs what's left in her cup, glancing once at the dregs at the bottom and then sliding it back onto the table.

[Molly Quincannon] "Yes, bone marrow is very nutritious," Molly says with a roll of her eyes, "but I don't think it's incredibly tasty. And it's a lot of work to get at. Why don't you just go the Soylent Green route like normal cannibals?" But she's chuckling as well, and she gives the name of the tea shop she and Ashley are in. "They're mostly tea but they do seriously awesome char siu bao. Which is a sort of a Chinese bun full of ... y'know, I don't actually know what 'char siu' is..." She looks at the menu and munches on a bit of her bao at the same time. "Oh," she says after swallowing. "Roast pork. Awesome. Anyway, food. And awesome company. Ashley; the one I told you about. Who gets more awesome the more I get to know her." This she says heedless of whether Ashley's listening; evidently not idle flattery. "So get your buttocks over here before you get busted for grievous bodily gnawing. Again. Yes, I heard about Sacramento."

[Wren Jacobs] "Hey...no riots happened this time. Okay...uh...I think I got an idea of where it is. Seeya in a bit. Also...ew...soylent green. If I want marrow, I definitely don't want it ground down to some sort of green goo. It would be like eating baby food....carrots and peas. Blech. Any case...I'll be there."

Pause.

"This Ashley person is not edible, right? Cause if she smells like fries or anything, I can't guarantee her safety. But pork does sound good."

Click. Wren chuckles, eyes scanning around as she clicks open her phone...typing a few things. Back in the day, this sort of app would be a rote....now adays, GPS kinda eliminated the need to be scrying to determine location...unless well...you happened to have an iPhone with zero bars. 4G her ass.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley listens to the chatter, glancing Molly's way once when Molly compliments her indirectly. A corner of the Hermetic's mouth quirks a little; evidently she's not entirely impassive with other people all the time.

"I guess she's coming?" she asks, once Molly hangs up.

[Molly Quincannon] After a moment's pause at something that this Wren has said, Molly ponders Ashley's resonance and the commentary that could be made and how wrong it could all sound, and then orders bao for Wren, so that it will be ready for the Vdept when she gets here and the Vdept will know that it is waiting, and she won't force Molly to make comments like Don't eat the Hermetic or She'd be more likely to eat you.

See? Sometimes she has tact.

With that and a "See you in a few," she switches the phone off and grins at Ashley. "Yes," she replies, and picks up her tea again. "Yes, she is. And apparently requires feeding. I don't even want to know what she's been up to that she's this hungry now. ...Well, maybe a little. But I'm sure I'd regret finding out. Not that that's ever stopped me. So. Anyway!" After a second's pause for thought, she says, apparently apropos of nothing at all, "Samuel Beckett!"

[Wren Jacobs] Wren walked along, following the indicated directions of her Droid as she pursed her lips a bit. Now and then she reached back to adjust her glasses. Today was her geeking out...not every day was dreadfalls, neckties, and pimping shades after all.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley is quite used to other people making jokes about her resonance, or at least commenting on it. There's no doubt in her mind that people notice. They bring her food almost every time they visit her, and she's entirely self-aware. She has become her Word in a way that most Hermetics hope but many do not ever attain. Regardless, she doesn't really know what's going through Molly's head.

She just raises her eyebrows as Molly offers that name up. "What about him?" she asks, perhaps assuming that some part of their conversation had made her bring him, or one of his works, to mind.

Wren will find them sitting at a circular table; the Hermetic manages to look a bit larger than she is if only because of her carriage. She has an arm flung over the back of her chair and there's a subtle arrogance in her general bearing: nothing targeted, just present for the world at large. She's wearing a pair of jeans and a brown T-shirt today, in spite of the chill outside.

[Molly Quincannon] "Wondered what you thought of his stuff. Just sort of random." Molly, in geek-wear not too different from Wren's beyond the near all-encompassing tattoos and the heavy brown leather wrist band and the incongruous scarf (which she still has not taken off yet; clearly it is much prized and yet more loved), is leaned a bit more forward, an elbow on the table - Ashley has a subtle arrogance, whereas Molly gives off keen interest. "I would've pegged you for a 'Not I' sort of person, but ... I dunno, there's always something to be said for Waiting for Godot. Also, I hear he wrote poetry, and wondered if you'd read his stuff, and if so, what you thought of it. Random sort of cross-connection of neurons. It's a thing."

[Wren Jacobs] Wren walks up, flipping the hood of her hoodie back. She gives a wave to Ashley before taking a seat between the two. She then reaches over to Molly's arm...for a moment leaning in like she was gonna bit before grinning and letting go of it.

"Greetings from Vermont...didn't get any souvenirs, sorry. So...uh...hi."

She looks to Ashley, giving a wave as she reached to the food assuming it was already arrived as she goes to chew it, sighing in bliss.

"So...you're Ashley? I thought you would be more Snape-like."

She smiles, obviously joking.

[Ashley McGowen] "I haven't actually read any of his poetry," Ashley says. "But someday I might. I read Waiting for Godot...a long time ago, back when I was on a kick reading a lot of existentialist writers after I first woke up. I remember it being depressing. Israel has always reminded me of one of the characters. The blind one..." She trails off, perhaps trying to remember the name of said character. "But it was too long ago for me to give you specific thoughts, unfortunately."

Her memory is quite good, but if Molly had seen her apartment it might possibly explain why she would have difficulty recalling specifics about a text she read ten years ago. She has read possibly thousands of books in the time between.

Wren draws her gaze when she enters, and there's a thoughtful glance over the Virtual Adept while she seats herself and takes a bite of the pork bun. "I'm Ashley," she says, tonelessly. Probably trying to interpret the Snape comment. "Good to meet you."

[Molly Quincannon] Discussion of Beckett's plays will have to wait; there's someone trying to gnaw her arm, if teasingly. "Yes, I am made out of meat, Wren," she says, all dry. "But the bao is tastier. Ashley, this is Wren Jacobs, Vdept and rock musician. She's the evil twin. Which makes me the good twin. Scared yet?" She's teasing, clearly, but does gather up some seriousness as she adds, "No, if you want Snape, go find Basil. On second thought, don't. I don't want to have to try to keep him from zapping people again. I barely managed it the first time." Then, for Ashley's benefit, she adds, "Lara. Ages ago. In the House, though, so ... yeah."

[Wren Jacobs] "Oh wonderful...with a name like Basil he sounds like a Final Fantasy villain."

She chews a bit, smirking at Molly's quip of her being the evil twin but doesn't deny it as she glanced to Ashley again.

"Nice to meet ya as well....like she said. I would have contacted you sooner but shit came up and well...the local server seems to have cleared out or something. I haven't been able to contact or meet with any of the locals from my guild so.."

She shrugged a bit and then glanced to Molly.

"I won't be able to tell if the bao is tastier or not unless I get to sample later."

She teased back before laughing and then finished off the biscuit.

"Be warned...I will be dragging you somewhere else later....you have sated the gnawing hunger but stomach requires to be full to be satiated."

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley bites the inside of her cheek when Basil's name comes up, and for a few seconds there's something about the Hermetic that seems to have been disquieted. She offers nothing forth, though, content to let the other two banter. Molly knows a lot of people, it seems - almost as many as she does - and Molly is much, much friendlier. Ashley is content to let her make the introductions.

"It's all right," she says. "I had a lot going on last month." It's not really an excuse. She had a lot going on the month before that, too, and the month before that, and...well. This has become her life.

There's none of the friendly teasing from her, either; perhaps she doesn't know how to take part or just isn't particularly inclined toward smalltalk. Some things are easily attributed to her Akashic father. "I could eat," she offers to Wren, and glances toward Molly once. Of course she can.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly clearly wants to address everything at once, and is trying to sort out an order in which to take it all on. Then, though, Molly's phone starts blaring again - but this time it's 'Take This Job and Shove It', and Molly groans. She picks up the phone and into it she says, not 'hello' or anything like a greeting but: "Tell me it wasn't a burrito again." After a short pause, she buries her face in her free hand and says, "You cannot use a server stack to heat aromatherapy oils, you collosal dorkmonkey! That way lies superheated-oil-spattering, steam-powered server death! You are paying me overtime," she tells the person on the other end of the phone as she gathers her things. "No, you will move heaven and earth to make sure I get double-time or I will, so help me, tell them about the s'mores! THE SERVER STACK IS NOT YOUR KITCHEN!"

She pauses in her struggling into her gear long enough to tell Ashley and Wren, "...I have to go. I work for gibbons. Worse than gibbons. I'll think of something worse than gibbons and call them that. I just ... I'll talk to you later. And you," she starts up again, back into the phone as she stalks for the door, "had better just count yourself lucky I was in a decent mood until now or I would be taking that God-awful model of King Kong on the Empire State and stick it so far up your--"

The door mercifully cuts off the rest.