Caged

[Nathan Spriggs] The place is a small coffee shop out of the way from the main street, a nice little place for the most part, they seem to do well even for how obscure it seems. In fact, at this hour, the inside is packed with people weaving in and out to get an order in before they're off for the work rush. The movers of Chicago city, the little people who keep things going, corporate yuppies, fastfood workers, construction builders, the entire middle-class chain has a representative here.

Meanwhile, in a small corner with a window view, sits Nathan in a black trench coat, a strange silk-texture to it, he seems to be waiting for someone as his coffee on the table is almost completely untouched, save for a sip or two. Following his last words before she headed out of the meeting, Nathan waited roughly four hours before making the call and arranging a place that very day. Four hours, the median, enough time for her to cool off but not enough time for any potentially risky ideas to go through her mind.

[Molly Quincannon] If Nathan thinks that four hours aren't enough for potentially risky ideas to at least cross Molly's mind, he's indulging in a lot of wishful thinking. Generally it takes less than four seconds for risky ideas to go through Molly's head, and she's had four or five of them and analysed them fairly thoroughly by the time the call comes. It's the analysis time that makes the difference. The ideas are still there, but their risk/benefit analysis has been done and they're still on the burner. Basically, what she hasn't had enough time to do is implement anything. The fact that she went back to the dojo to beat on things has, at least, helped the general simmering rage to get vented ... somewhat. So when Molly turns up, it's in jeans and the top of her gi under her jacket, still toting her quarterstaff, hair damp and frost-frozen at the tips from the shower she took after the workout.

There's a moment of disorientation when she comes in; there always is, given how her glasses fog up when coming in from the cold. Then she polishes them on the hem of her top, looks around, waves at Nathan in a 'be there in a sec' gesture that's trying not to be as curt as it's turned out (yes, she is still pissed off) and goes to order coffee. She comes to the table a moment later with her usual caffeinated horror, slides into the chair opposite and tries a smile - not an effort she would make for many, right now, but ... well. It dies quickly, anyway, and she just looks at him for a second before... "Hi."

[Nathan Spriggs] Four hours, enough for the initial cool-off... not enough for the illusion of civility to remain in most cases. Fortunately, he'd kept this in mind, far away from the 'wishful thinking' part of his brain, where it helped him stay realistic. Still, it doesn't help him with making dissertations on the possibility of actually walking away from this without one very pissed person and an utterly failed attempt.

So when she flashes him a... well, attempt at a smile, Nathan responds in kind with the tiniest one he can pull off. His mood's not been on the up and up today either. "Hey. Look, I'll get to the point instead of beating around the bush. I'm sorry for how things turned out at the meeting." Was that the best approach, he had to wonder to himself.

[Molly Quincannon] Perhaps Molly is growing as a person, because she does actually consider responses to that before she just shoots her mouth off, though she can't quite stifle an under-the-breath noise that's a bizarre blending of exasperated snort, displeased snarl and depressed sigh. Never let it be said that Molly's simple. But none of it is directed at Nathan specifically, at least.

She shrugs, then, and sips her coffee before saying, "Not sure why you should be." Then she looks up at him, and the smile's less forced and longer-lived this time, though no larger and filled with a lot of rue and wry and just a hint of bitterness. "Was it really that obvious that I was counting to ten to keep from losing my shit? I tried not to lose my shit. The last thing that horrorshow needed was more wangst." Then she looks at her coffee - well, it's an excuse not to meet his eyes, anyway - and adds, "It'll get done, anyway."

[Nathan Spriggs] It's not just people skills that he rarely uses to their full extent that lets Nathan remain calm through all these things, it's a sense of keeping things from landsliding. If everyone lost their cool, mistakes would happen. Of course, poker face or not, right now he's become relaxed enough to get a sense of the slowly dissipating frustration that Nathan had at the meeting, there's many reasons he remained quiet.

Sheer disorganization was one of them. "Eh, I should've spoken up and offered alternatives or something," he responds to her comment (question?), before adding, "But it sort of was, yeah. Mostly I just remembered certain... events, heh. Better safe than sorry? I know how it feels to be left out of this stuff, believe me. So tell me, what's your plan? I mean your real plan."

Because yes, not even for a moment did he consider she'd let this sit.

[Molly Quincannon] Ooh, wrong thing to say, that bit about 'certain ... events'. Molly hunches in on herself and says, "And therein lies the problem. It's been months since that. I've developed self-defence skills since then. You know that; you've taught me some of it! But he looks at me and all he sees is ... is ... is 'certain ... incidents! He won't be able to see anything else unless I can show him something else, and he won't let me do that because he can't even conceive that it could be different than his first impression! How do you think it feels, knowing that ... that is what he sees; what he's always going to see? Seeing that through his eyes every damn time I try to get involved in anything? How am I supposed to get past it - grow and stand and fight like I know I'm supposed to - when I can't get away from it because it's there in the face of someone I respect and that someone won't let me prove myself?"

And while there are other issues, that's the oozing heart of it, for now. Solomon, she believes, looks at her and sees 'liability'; sees 'victim'. And she's right, at least in part, and she can't change that as things stand.

The question gets a shrug, and she looks up at him again. There's a touch of defiance there, but mostly it's just miserable thoughtfulness. "I haven't decided yet. I have a few contingencies, put it that way. But his way is not the most workable one for the effect he wants, so I'm having a lot of work-around to do here. If he understood tech from a hole in a wall, he'd know that." And I do understand it, is the undercurrent there, but no one trusts me enough to actually fucking listen.

[Nathan Spriggs] It takes an enormous force of will not to sigh here and shake his head at the deeper issue, it's not her look on it that does it, it's the fact that he'd been right to guess. Yes, there were deeper, long running issues here and... no, he really didn't have any place to start on solving it. Time to put on the thinking cap, it seems. For now, he'd try to buy time or suggest... less dangerous alternatives.

"That entire meeting was a disaster in the beginning, in my opinion," Nathan's first words on it, probably the source of his own frustrations... But best to start the very beginning, it was no use treating her like anything below an equal after all. That was the problem here. "So, okay, I'm pissed off at certain things myself. I can see why you're angry too. But remember, I've been teaching you self-defense myself, I know how good you've gotten with it. And in case things go south, I don't think it's enough... yet."

A quick addition then, before it can get misconstrued. "I'm not saying you can't handle yourself either, both physically and magically, but right now... we need your help in other areas, where you're more qualified than anything else... I won't deny it though, Solomon's the type that once he gets a first impression, it's hard to kick him out of it." This time, his voice is dipped with empathy and a very clear understanding, he and Solomon had an awful beginning. She's heard stories, in fact, Nathan and the whole city had a terrible beginning. "That said, acting out probably isn't the best route. Believe me. Like, personal experience talking here, I got someone killed by being a fucking moron." And it still haunts him.

Success is only until you fuck up, the fuck ups stick around forever. "So all I'm gonna ask is you listen for now and don't act, you don't have to like it. Just... please wait, at least give it a chance. Some times, slow starts are better than none. If nothing else, you can say 'fuck Solomon's opinion' and work to get so far up Ashley and co.'s good graces that they'll intervene in your defense for a move next time. The fact alone that Ashley trusted you to do the Scrying should be enough to prove that not everyone sees you as someone who's bound to screw up because of the one mistake." Let it not be said that Nathan was always pro-Solomon, they had their differences and their friction points.

[Molly Quincannon] At the very least, Molly is a good listener. Sure, it's harder when she's angry - it always is - but she's still a good listener. Curious people tend to be, because ... well, how else do you get answers but by listening? So it takes a moment, and a swig of coffee that's now cooled down enough to do more than sip, before she says anything. She listens, and she thinks about what was said, before she makes a response ... at least when it's serious like this. When it's serious like this, it's not really the time for amusing segues.

After that moment, she addresses the points in order. "Okay, point taken ... at least about the stuff you've been teaching me. I'd like to state for the record, though, that what you know I can do on mundane self-defence is not all I can do." She glances over at the quarterstaff propped up against the wall in a meaningful sort of way, then holds up a hand, remembering (as Nathan might) the day she'd come into Fiddlers spattered in Thomas' blood because she'd beaten the tar out of him ... on request and for his own good, but the fact remains that she'd done quite the job on everyone's favourite Cockney.

Then she shrugs. "Anyway, that's entirely beside the point. I know what you guys need me to do. I have no problem with that in theory. The problem is the practical aspects. Look, what it came down to was this: they asked me to do this thing because I have the expertise they need - they know, at least in theory, that I know the best way to get the job done and they don't. But they won't listen to me when I try to explain - with the full weight of the expertise they sought me out for, I might add - the best way of getting the job done. Instead, from their position of admitted ignorance, they're hamstringing me. They're telling me how to do something that they've said outright that they don't know how to do, and that's stupid. If I'm the one who's qualified to do this, why aren't they listening to the qualified person?"

She groans and runs her hands through her hair, all frustration. "Look, I'll be blunt. The only reason I have just put my original idea on the very, very back burner rather than taking it off the table completely is ... well, it's not just to be a pain in the ass or 'act out' or any similar bullshit. It's because, quite simply, it's the best option and I cannot just throw it away. That doesn't mean I intend to do it. That doesn't mean I'm not racking my brain to try to figure out a way to get the effect you need without being a fucking liability or I don't even know. It sure as hell doesn't mean that I haven't got a few ideas that might work better than just 'put a lid on the pot and hope' that don't keep the poor stupid helpless little techie out of harm's way." Yes, she's bitter but she's still not directing it at Nathan. In point of fact, that's more self-loathing than anything directed at someone else. "So in answer to the question you really want to ask, no. No, I'm not going to just barge in and do it my original way anyway. But it's not because I don't want to piss anyone off or play the political game or whatever the hell. And it's sure as hell not because I'm happy with being asked to do something and then having limitations put on me by people who admit they don't know what they're talking about. But why I'm doing it doesn't matter. I'll get it done and I won't do anything that any of you would consider 'stupid'. That'll have to do."

[Nathan Spriggs] Finally, from the very recesses of his soul, comes a very weary, tired sigh at last as the conversation shifts just slightly. It isn't directed at her or the intricacies of the conversation itself, he's just simply letting himself relax even slightly now. Releasing the tension. "I'll accept whatever I can get." Those are his words when Molly finishes explaining herself, giving her reasoning, and yes, he can understand it to an extent.

Hatred of Spirits aside, it was no easy thing to be left behind while others dealt with Edom. He'd actually tried to argue himself into the team, but ultimate... no, he'd known better than to. "So what now? I'm definitely not enough of the logistics guy to swing this one way or another, but at the very least I can carry some kind of message on your ideas back to the team once things have calmed?"

[Molly Quincannon] She shrugs. "There's no point. Solomon made it pretty clear that he doesn't care if I'm hamstrung so long as I'm not there. So I won't be there, I'll find a workaround, I'll get it done. What else is there to say?" Another swig of coffee. "I've got a few ideas, but I don't know how workable any of them are, particularly when you've got a techie in the mix that might get affected by whatever I throw that's not just that stupid fucking baffle idea. I can't even target effectively this way. It's a pain in the ass. That barrier of theirs is just a space-thing, right? No Forces component?" It's a thoughtful sort of question.

Then she sighs. "And after that ... well, then it's the age-old question - do I stay, or do I rent another U-Haul?"

[Nathan Spriggs] He shakes his head at her question, "As far as I know, yeah. No Forces component. But that's not my specialty, so I can't say for certain." To her other comment, that earn the arch of a brow and a slightly disappointed/alarmed look. "It's your choice, ultimately, but my question in response is 'why'? True, you made a mistake, not a small one either but in the end... should you really leave because of it? I mean, might be hard to, but you can work past it no? Besides, I'm sure I'm not the only one who'd rather not see you go, both for your abilities and otherwise."

Because yes, whatever the situation was between them, he did enjoy the odd conversations and having a Cultist around who wasn't an idiot. It gave him a window to nostalgia at times, really. "There will be other disasters, believe me on that one. There's always a chance to make things work as long as you're around."

[Molly Quincannon] "Well, if there's anyone you can ask, that'd be appreciated," Molly says, addressing the business aspects first. Whatever decision she makes about the other thing, it's clear she's not going to leave them in the lurch on this one. She said she'd get it done; she meant it. "Solomon might know; he's pretty good with Forces, I understand. Look, here's the reasoning. You've heard of EMP, right? Electromagnetic pulse, really fucks up equipment? Well, the starting point for an EMP burst is small, but the range is wide. If it's only spatial stuff this thing keeps out, then a EMP burst with an origin point outside it would still fuck up anything inside. I'd throw the baffle in too, in case any their equipment is EMP shielded," she adds, "and I'd have to shield Atlas from the effects just in case he ends up in range, but that's easy enough, and the belt-and-braces approach seems best for this kind of thing. But I won't bother if the barrier definitely keeps out that kind of thing."

Geek-fu finished, she moves on to the explanation bit. "Oh, I wouldn't be leaving because I made a mistake. I don't run from my mistakes. There's no point; theoretically, it's just geography. If I decided to leave - and that's still up for debate - it'd be because ... well, I'm being caged. We're about pressing the boundaries of the universe and I'm not even being let to press my personal ones. What the hell chance do I have of learning - of growing, of becoming what I'm going to become - when I'm being tied back and pruned like a freakin' bonsai tree? I ... it's the people that'd keep me here; the personal connections, the ties. But how much do I have to give up to keep them? Do I condemn myself to spending the rest of my time here in Chicago tethered to what people with hard-set first impressions of me feel is my 'place'? Because if there was even the slimmest chance that I could actually see that maybe, someday, I could be more - to them, to us as a group, and thus to myself - then I'd never even think of backing away from that challenge. But there's only so much beating my head against a wall I'll do, and this wall looks like titanium alloy over cinderblock to me. And I'm not just going to be 'the security girl'. It was good enough for Chuck; I'm better than that."

[Nathan Spriggs] For now, he chooses to remain silent. Considering her reasoning and having really no arguments here, everything was her choice now. After all, he probably fell in said list. "Hm, I don't know much about all that, but I can imagine it might work. Problem is making an EMP that isn't reliant on magic? Isn't that pretty hard to pull off?"

To the rest, he says, after a long delay, "I... can't answer that. All I can say is, things change in time. Even then, you don't have to take my word for it. Whatever decision you reach, I hope you'll be satisfied with it. Sorry if this sounds like a cop-out answer, I just don't think anyone can really honestly answer it save you."

[Molly Quincannon] Finally, there's a genuine smile. "Oh, there'd be magic involved, but that's the point; that magic doesn't have to have its origin point inside the building. There are streetlights, aren't there? If you can transmute metal to explosive, what makes you think I can't transmute light to electromagnetic energy? Okay, look." She sets her coffee cup in front of her on the table, leaving room. "This is the building." She pulls her sonic screwdriver out of a pocket - just a toy, at this point, without her Will involved - and sets it pen-end-down about six inches away from the coffee cup. "This is a streetlight." She flicks on the light at the other end of the 'screwdriver' and lets it shine in a circle around the table, where it bathes the coffee cup in its blue glow. "Now, the light surrounds the building - it doesn't get in because concrete and steel block light. Now, if I change that light to electromagnetism..." She flips a switch and the blue light goes green. "...Concrete and steel doesn't stop that kind of energy, but notice it has the same coverage? I can also amp up the intensity so it covers more ground. Anyway, point is that if the ward only keeps anyone from casting any spell inside the building from outside the building, it's not going to block out an EMP blast from outside the building no matter what started the initial blast, so long as the magic that kicked it off started outside the building, and thus the ward." She flicks off the screwdriver and stuffs it back into a pocket. "Quad erat demonstrandum." (She doesn't know a lot of Latin, but she made it a point to find out what QED stood for.)

Then she sighs. "As to anything else ... moving or whatever ... like I said, I haven't made that decision yet. Maybe this'll be a good lesson in trying to find my way around obstacles placed in my way, even when it's by people I respect. Or maybe especially then. Maybe I'll come around to seeing it as a thing earned. But right now, all I can think is I'm in a freakin' cage and I hate it. But there's enough else going on that I can back-burner that one too. I swear, the payback on the intellectual debt I'm racking up for all the shit I'm back-burnering to think on later is going to be a bitch. Oh well. First thing's first, I guess."

She swigs down more of her coffee and then adds, "Anyway, I'll let you know, but until then, it's not a thing and you're the only person I plan to tell until I've decided for certain. I'm not big for the flounce exit anyway. And I'm not going anywhere until this is done. So now that I've done the uber-geek thing and am at least less likely to hit things ... change of subject? I think I need a break from thinking about this or my head'll explode or I'll find some different stupid thing to do out of frustration."

[Nathan Spriggs] Still uncertain by technological factors, Nathan picks up the queue at changing topics. So, leaning back on the seat, he closes his eyes for a moment. A beat, then, in the most serious tone he can manage without actually being serious... "So how 'bout them Yankees?"

[Molly Quincannon] There's a blink, and then, "...They're the baseball one, right? I used to have the hat, but..." She shrugs. "I prefer hockey, when I bother with sports at all."

Then she comes up with a topic. "How's the paintball gun treating you? And the reading of the stuff on that flash drive coming along okay?"

[Nathan Spriggs] "Haven't tried the painball gun, and reading the stuff is going relatively well. Haven't had much time to get into it nor apply any of it, but eh... At least I started on it." He answers, deciding to take a sip of his now-very-cold coffee afterward. "How about you? Need any help getting the hang of any metaphysical spherical object or understanding?"

[Molly Quincannon] That gets a thoughtful pause. "Well, I haven't decided what comes next yet. That's another one on the back burner. I'm thinking to improve my Prime a bit, and all things considered, I'm also thinking Life'd be a good idea. But I did always have a yen to learn Matter. Always figured that one could come in handy with the rest of my skill set. I'm running out of new ones to learn, is the thing. I think it's only Life, Spirit and Matter left that I haven't got a clue about. Not entirely sure about the Spirit thing, though I guess it'd be useful to be able to at least see 'em without 'em manifesting. Still, I've only got the one brain, so it's one subject at a time. So, long story short, any help on the three I've got left would be appreciated, but it also might have to be back-burnered while I work on the other major life-change." She considers that, then realises how ambiguous and unhelpful that could sound and adds, "I just mean that thing we were talking about the other day, trying to move away from the tech angles. It works for Entropy and Correspondence and even some Mind stuff, so why not? Still working out the kinks, though."

[Nathan Spriggs] "Ah, yeah. I can see how that'd affect things... In any case, I'm least inclined to Spirit myself, for... well, reasons you already know. But I can help you with all three of those if you need you'd accept the helping hand. Matter is the only one of those I've taken beyond the most rudimentary levels, but I can figure it out with the others too." He says, the first real smile today touching his lips for an instant when he finishes. "Is it working out for you so far, the changes? Kinks aside, obviously."

[Molly Quincannon] "Well, Mind's working better than I could have expected." She moves her hands - there's no Will behind it, no power, but it matches up, more or less, to what she's saying. "I always thought this would just be a way to communicate with James, or something good to have in the field, but it works great as a focus." She wraps her hands around her coffee cup again and adds, "Forces ... is harder. I can think of a few things to do that I might be able to break myself away from my iPhone for, but mostly ... mostly that's the kinks. Having real fun with Entropy, though. There's a couple of hexes I think I've mostly worked out, and they should be no end of useful. And those don't even take the mental math; just ... pattern visualisation. Okay, visualisation of a pattern entirely brought about by mental math, but a little less time-consuming all the same."