Backup Works Both Ways

[Nathan Spriggs] Chicago traffic is never easy, let alone when there's been a large fire in a rather populated area of town. The fleeing masses never make it any easier to get anywhere, with their speeding cars where possible and panicking pedestrian impediments of the street.

But that's not important, the journey's what's important not the destination itself right? In this case, for Nathan, as he can gradually feel himself falling from the adrenaline high and coming back down to a less than soft landing, it's the getting there alive and safe. Getting Molly there, after forcing her into the car if necessary (against any struggling and colorful words that she might have) and hopefully avoiding what is building up to be an enormous fall out. The prices you pay to do your job and keep someone you care about safe, eh?

So far for the ride, he's been quietly minding the road as he steers them through the chaotic streets of the city with the heading of Israel's humble abode, the sweet calling of treatment to the bruises and cuts that resulted, for him, the rampaging pushes of the people. Some times, it made him wonder why he put your life on the line to save such selfish, self-preserving bastards. Though the answer, muddled as it was, always ended the same.

Molly too was injured, much more heavily than himself. But he tries not to think about that beyond the necessity of treatment. Partly because of how serious it was, mostly because it hadn't been the crowd that did it.

That was the true moral quandary here, wasn't it?

Did that count as domestic abuse?

[Molly Quincannon] Molly had actually been pretty quiet as she was more or less nudged into Nathan's car. There was some mild protest, but even she's not really keen to deal with officers of the law. You never know who's going to make the wrong kind of connection. Plus she's frankly too bruised (and a bit dizzy; blows to the head will do that to you, even if they don't actually knock you unconscious) to fight overmuch anyway. In all fairness to Nathan, most of the damage was done by stampeding people, or at least being shoved hard into a counter edge by same. Yes, Nathan may have caused mild concussion, but he's not strictly speaking the reason that she's got an arm unconsciously crossed in a protective gesture across her midsection, why breathing hurts a bit.

For a little while, she doesn't. Say. A word. (Given her usual nature, that may or may not be scary on various levels.)

About halfway to Israel's, she does finally speak - and of course it's a question. "Where are we going? The river's the other way." Apparently, she expects to be brought back to where she docked the runabout to the Lafette or something.

[Nathan Spriggs] Perhaps he's (optimistically) attributing it to injuries, or process information, or what have you... but there's no instant fear of the bespectacled Cultist's silence. Not yet, anyway. But he's cautious to avoid looking away completely, one eye on the road and the bare edge of the other on the girl who might flip out sooner rather than later.

"Israel's house," he keeps it short and to the point for multiple reasons. The most important of which was her potential headache. Maybe another was... perhaps... not wanting to fully drag her from drowsiness if such existed.

Maybe.

[Molly Quincannon] After a short pause, there's a sigh. "I suppose we're going to have to give a report on that clusterfuck, yeah." After another second or two, an apparent nonsequitor: "I didn't even get to drink my coffee. Fuck."

Following that, another query, semi-rhetorical. "Odds on leaving out the whole 'Molly be a little bruised' thing when we break it down for her? She'd only want to do the healing thing and I'm not getting her bitch-slapped by the universe over this."

[Nathan Spriggs] "None," he answers almost immediately. The fear of getting blasted with anger has yet to overweight the concern for her safety, it seems. Possibly for the best, given the level of injuries she'd taken in his eyes. It was a bit like Paradox, once you started accruing hate points, you knew you were gonna get smacked down eventually.

What did it matter if you added a little extra to get the job done properly?

Of course, he's not without his... apologetic justifications, more apology than anything else to be fair, "...Look, I know a fair deal of your bruising is my fault, and I'm sorry. Really. But if I'd seen any other, less painful alternatives I'd have taken them. I didn't. Not if I wanted to get you out of there fast and in one piece. I'm sorry that it came to it and I'm sorry if you got hurt. But I'm not sorry for trying to make sure you got out as safely as possible."

Let the bloodbath... commence!

[Molly Quincannon] Molly ... does not explode. Maybe she's too sore, or too tired, or just plain too stunned by the whole thing. Her voice is almost casual when she says, "You hit me. In the head. With the ass-end of a rifle. To keep me in one piece. Your logic. It astounds me." There's a second's pause (no, she is not in high-speed auto-rant mode right now, at all) and then she adds, "If you'd knocked me out, I'd have ended up like Miss Kitty Racktastico, y'know." The pretty giggly flirty waitress had, after all, been trampled to death. And she'd been conscious at the time. "You might have too, if you'd been trying to drag me out when the stampede started. You could have been killed over me. I ... don't know what to think about that. I mean, maybe it's because I'm still reeling from the Gun-Butt of Chivalry."

Then she sighs. "I ... don't get what you were trying to do. Backup works both ways, Nathan. We wasted time on the hitting and the swearing and the arguing and even without magic ... maybe we could have done more. If we'd been working together. I didn't think you thought 'backup' meant 'pull her out the second it gets even a little dangerous'. I don't know why you wanted me gone and weren't so much focused on you leaving. Again, backup? Two-way street. How was I supposed to have your back if I was in a taxicab?"

[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan will take what he can get, and a calm argument is better than the alternatives. He's a bit sure of himself too, not quite willing to step down from this. "I don't pretend for you, as the receiving party, to get the full grace of my plan, true... But better a concussion than something worse." To the part about being trampled, he continues to drive silently for a moment.

"I had my ways of getting us out, trust me. I don't deny it was a gamble though." It's truth mingled with some half-truths as well, he had considered a rampage and how to escape. A completely different stunt would have been pulling off the escape... Then, slowly pressing down on the gas as they approach a red light, he actually turns his head to glance back at Molly and look at her directly since getting in the car.

"Back-up is a two-way street, and yet you didn't even stop to warn me before turning around and trying to run back in. You mentioned the rampaging crowd, but what would have happened if we'd tried to struggle against the tide rather than flow with it, hm? Sounds a lot like what you say I did, save the direct inflicting of wounds. It wasn't 'a little danger', you saw what happened, you know as well as me how much worse it could've been." His words aren't hard or blaming, but he does present the cold, hard facts without an attempt to sugarcoat. "...There was nothing we could do, not to stop it. Escaping was the best option, simple as that. The word needed to get out, I don't deny I considered staying back long enough to divert attention from you, but at least I was armed and I had no intentions of staying longer than it took for another cab to come," now it's time for actual lies, in a way.

Hiding the idea of going back to help the crowds escape, in much like she'd done save perhaps with a less hasty approach... But one thing is painfully true, and his tone conveys it, much as he hates it... between a choice of a situation that couldn't be salvaged and getting her out without harm, he'd have chosen the latter 10 out of 10 times. Even if it meant he had to abandon the scene of the crime too, albeit if, and only if, absolutely necessary.

Some tough choices needed making. Times like these were times he was glad for the moments when it was Solomon calling the seemingly heartless choices rather than himself.

[Nathan Spriggs] [...I don't wanna lie but I don't wanna make her feel worse; Manipulation + Subterfuge, -1 dice for injuries]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP] Re-rolls: 1

[Molly Quincannon] [[Fuck it. Perc + Awareness-as-Empathy]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] "I stopped!" That's the first thing, and it's more bemused than anything else. "I mean, there was gunshot and I was looking for a weapon and then you hit me. After that ... what, I was supposed to stand there and let you hit me again?" It's still not terribly angry; there's a spark of it, sure, but it's not the main theme. "As to the rest ... maybe. But maybe if we'd worked together, fewer people would have died, at least. I don't know. I'd have liked to try to find out. You know what I'm like; you knew it going in. But instead of trying to work that into your game plan, you premeditatively hit me to suit your own ends. So again we're back to 'don't know how to feel about that'."

Then she sighs. "But I'm frankly too tired to argue about it and ... don't really feel like hitting you right now." At least in part because moving hurts and she'd probably miss anyway. At least she kept her glasses in the whole mess, though her hat is lost and burned to cinders by now. "But believe me, up until the stampede - which, I might add, was pretty sucky for me on levels I cannot begin to express and I'll be having rerun nightmares for the rest of the week, but if it saved lives, what the hell - there was serious pondering of doing violence to sensitive bits of your anatomy. I am taking solace in the fact that you got trampled too, and that's the end of that. I'd appreciate it, though, if you'd work with me next time. Though at least now I know that apparently, no one or nothing's allowed to hurt me but you. You, sir, are a twisted little cruller."

[Nathan Spriggs] "Well, let's leave it at 'our teamwork sucks, work on it,' then? I admit I was most likely in the wrong, and I'm not gonna drop the fact you were too. So yeah, it goes both ways, perhaps I overreacted... but you know, you're hellishly hard to get under control once you get going, right?" It's as much of a surrender as he'll give, or at least a call for a ceasefire. The issue would get no resolution if they kept the back and forth, for now at least. More important things to deal with.

Though just in case she changed her mind, he'd be paying extra careful attention to any 'low blows'.

Whilst continuing the drive at a slower pace than before, Nathan finally sighs and with lingering seriousness of past conversation but little bits of humor worming their way in, he says, "Thanks. I try. You should see the bondage gear, makes Pulp Fiction look tame."

[Molly Quincannon] The first part is glossed over. She said she was too tired to argue, and she meant it. The 'under control' thing ... well, it registered, but sometimes it's just not worth taking Nathan too seriously.

Of course, then there are the times when it's best to just run with the joke, so she does at least address the last comment. "I should see the bondage gear. Maybe I will someday, and satisfy my curiosity if you prefer being on the giving or receiving end of that kind of ... *ahem* 'discipline'. And Pulp Fiction was tame. You should've seen Janice's basement." (Of course, this could all just be a ruse to visit unholy vengeance on his balls. You never know.)

Then, going waaaay back to the original thing about the going to Israel's and the odds of Israel not finding out that Molly is of the bruised-and-achy, "...........No chance at all? She's gonna give me that look again, I turn up all bruised. And it'll blow over in a couple of days. I've been worse. Hell, you've seen me worse."

[Nathan Spriggs] "None at all," he responds to the second mention of Israel's without any hesitation again. Of course, he's not without compassion... "But I'll take the full blame, so don't worry about 'that look'. It'll probably make you feel better in fact, I think you might see Israel seriously angry for once. A very rare sight." Too bad it'd probably be directed at him? He doubted she'd approve of the extraction stratagem.

"Maybe someday indeed? For now, you should rest up. I'll start digging up what I can and update you the second I find something out? That good enough for you?" Nathan? Trying to bribe Molly with information for her curiosity?! Never! "Might be best if you bunk out of the Lafette for the time being, though. Who knows what we might've picked up. I'll arrange a hotel," not a motel, his tone makes the clear distinction, "room for you? Not to say you shouldn't contact Atlas, in fact tell him everything. I think, given his help with the portal for Edom, he could be of much help."

[Molly Quincannon] "..............."
One thing at a time. You have an analytical mind, even if it is operating slower than usual. So much for percussive maintenance-- focus, Molly...

Addressing points one at a time, first things first: "I ... didn't think the look was going to be ... blamey or anything. Just ... worried and unhappy and ... redolent of wanting to wrap me head to toe in bubble-wrap so I don't get so badly bruised. And I don't want her taking Paradox hits over a bruised ribcage and a crack to the head." Of course, there's no earthly way she can stop him - not without putting him in a sound baffle, anyway, and then she'd have to explain to Israel why she was doing that, so not so much an option - and she knows it so she just sighs and finishes with, "I just don't want her hurt over something that'll go away in a few days."

Then she moves on from the subject - Nathan's going to say what Nathan is going to say, and if he brings it up she is going to downplay it, and it won't work and Israel will break out the healing charms again and ... well. Sometimes precognition really is just judicious application of logic. The rest she takes point by point. "Rest isn't going to happen. I've got a meeting set with Ashley tomorrow so I can offer her some ID that won't get her stopped as a possible arsonist. Then I have to go speak to a ten-year-old boy about a Nostradamus act. As for the information ... I'll trade you, how's that? As to the Lafette or lack thereof ... first of all, if you were worried about tails, you wouldn't be going anywhere near Israel's place right after the recent clusterfuck. She and Sol have had enough problems as it is without us leading law enforcement to their collective door. Second, I have to go back. If nothing else, Atlas sucks at picking up his phone so if I want to tell him anything, and believe me, I do, it's better in meatspace. And anyway, who's going to feed my ferrets? Water my orchid? I've got enough nous to make myself forgettable, and that'll get me to and fro, no problem. Besides, I hate hotels. But thanks for the thought."

[Nathan Spriggs] "Jeez, will you nitpick at everything I do or just the thoughtful stuff?" His complaint is mildly serious, albeit just mildly. A lot of it he can accept for fact, and yes she's right in thinking arguing the wound issue with the man capable of moving his body and possessing control over the motor vehicle is not a good idea. "I don't think it's severe enough for Israel to get seriously hurt. I don't pretend to understand the logic or if it's true, but I've heard the lesser stuff goes over fine... So moot point."

That's all he says to that. Now the rest gets a sigh, and he accepts that Ashley could use ID for whatever the case, and doesn't know what the hell a ten-year old has to do with... anything. But first, "Oh no, I am concerned about tails. Just not the Technocratic kind. It's why we've taken so long to get there... I've been scoping out things and no one's following us on this side... but whatever did what it did in the club? It wasn't human, hell, it wasn't even from our side of Reality..." Now he's curious as to whether she'd picked up on that or not, had it seemed Technocratically centered to her or? In any case, perhaps she can tell that if it comes to the spiritual matters, there's no one he'd rather go to than his own Cabal, personal relationships and trust notwithstanding.

"Like I said, contact Atlas but don't do anything that could paint targets. If an info trade's what you want, I'm all for it. Now riddle me this on that note, what the hell's a kid have to do with all this?"

[Molly Quincannon] To the first bit, Molly starts to chuckle. That stops quickly, with a wince. "Probably everything, if I think it sounds wrong. Just so happens that the thoughtful stuff tends to press my independence buttons so I get motivated to logic things my way. You do the same damn thing, in your own way, so shut up." It's kindly spoken, though.

Molly hadn't precisely been thinking Technocrat; she'd just been thinking 'motivated, helpful police officers' or something ... which in her case is almost as bad. So his idea that something spiritual might be following them Umbralside seems new ... and also seems to hit her wrong. "Not from our side of reality, no ... but human, I think. Or at least, that's sort of what Lucian was trying to say. The 'her' he was talking about ... before the chaos hit and he bailed, he implied that she was something to do with the shit that went down in Horizon, at least at its start. I suppose that doesn't preclude not-human, but ... there are a lot of possibilities, and a lot of them depend on how you define 'human'. And even something that looks inhuman from where we were standing could have got its start with something that was human. Marauder trapped in the Umbra too long's an option." Then she shrugs. "Either way, not sure why she or it or whatever would be following us. Why would it care? Seemed more interesting in prodding way too much power at Sleepers. That just bugs me." Nathan may remember bits of the Code of Ananda: Some minds rest best asleep. Do not disturb those who would not waken otherwise. Molly takes her Trad seriously, and the panicking woman bouncing and smashing through a fucking wall smells like 'disturbing those who would not waken otherwise' to her.

She sighs a little and changes the subject. "This isn't the first time this has happened. I had a chat with Sol and Israel about this over dinner the other night. Some kid in his late teens Correspondence-jaunting his way around a party setting, just for starters; probably something you want to get from him in detail. Me? Friend of mine knows I like the weird. Or at least, that Maudlin likes the weird. She sent me a link to a vid of this ten-year-old boy talking about how some girl was going to look like she committed suicide on a 'day of the heart', but that it was 'the thing around her neck' making her do it because 'she traveled between the worlds without a map or a reason'." Nathan may remember this; she brought it up with Lucian. "That was posted on the twelfth. Come Valentine's Day? My friend got word of a jumper - female - off South Loop. Her friend in the coroner's office said that some alphabet agency or other took something she was wearing around her neck away in a biohazard bag. Solomon's source with the cops confirms that. Video came down on the fifteenth but I traced the IP address and I really need to talk to this kid."

[Nathan Spriggs] "Never stop to consider how the really bad stuff happens when we're all around and gathered? Either Lucian invited us there knowing, which given his cutting off moment I doubt, or it knew we were there and put on a show. Perhaps trying to get at us, perhaps trying to fuck with us. Whatever the case, I don't think it's a happy coincidence three of us were there at the time." That's what worries him, that's what always worries him. They don't find trouble, trouble always finds them. The Calling.

"So be careful is all I guess you'll let me tell you. Since I'm fairly certain you're not gonna invite me along for back up any time soon," and if the conversation were perhaps a little older (too soon, Nathan, too soon) in his mind, he'd have cracked it as a joke. As it stands, it's something decidedly more serious. "I'll give you a gun, Imbued ammo and all. Just make sure you bring it back." It was one of those cliche movie moments with the indirect promises, but what the hell... "If not, I'll summon your spirit back from the Umbra and lock you in the dimension of nitwit tech support for all of eternity. And you know how much I hate spirits."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly considers the first bit, then says, "........Option three: it had nothing to do with us, and everything to do with him. He knows about this - he knows 'she's here. And knew more or less what to expect her or it or whatever to do. Maybe he picked a spot that wasn't warded or whatever for an initial meet-up because thought that if this thing did decide to show itself, we'd see and want to find out what's going on all the more for having been caught up in it directly." Short pause as she considers what just came out of her mouth, and... "You guys are seriously rubbing off on me. I never used to be this paranoid."

Then there's the bit about the gun, and she looks a little shocked and a little bemused and it's almost certain she had something to say to the concept of bringing a gun (that by Nathan's own reckoning she barely knows how to fire) with Imbued ammunition to a meet-up with a ten-year-old boy...

And then there's the rest. Despite the aching ribs and the already extant light-headedness, Molly is soon half-hysterically giggling in the passenger seat. It clearly hurts, and she actually goes a bit pale as giggle-hyperventilation adds to the dizzy from the crack to the head, but she's just as clearly unable to stop until the laugh has run its course. "ogreatgoogleiwouldnotputitpastyou..." she manages, somewhere in the laughter, and then she finally manages to get a rein on the giggle-fit. Finally, when she's got her breath back under some semblance of control, she asks, "I ... I mean, thanks, but ... I'd ... seriously be better off ... with my quarterstaff. That ... at least ... I know how to use. If I need a gun hand, I know who to call. Provided he tries that paintball-gun tranquilliser trick instead of hitting me in the head again." Her way of saying that yes, she would call him for back-up again any time soon, though she seals it by adding, "Besides, if I don't ask you again, how're we going to learn to work together? Team-building is good, right?"

[Nathan Spriggs] After a wince at the hysterical-but-pained giggling, he chooses to maintain the atmosphere for at least a moment and start at the easygoing part with a, "Yes, or so the myth goes. I always found it easier working solo than with a team, honestly. The Guardians have changed that... but I might need to go low for a while on this. Talk to some people and network again."

Now he's taking a moment to turn the steering wheel in for the turn into the block where Israel's street is on and preparing to park. After a moment, when he's made sure the car's parked, he opens his door and quickly pivots to open the back for Molly so she wouldn't strain herself. A movement made to grab her by the shoulders and hoist her up carefully if he has to. "I did consider that scenario with Lucian, but for now I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't," and perhaps Nathan is now going soft, by the very nature of this comment, the lack of pure distrust for anyone he doesn't know, "seem like a bad guy on the surface. More to him, definitely... but not necessarily bad. He knew more than he let on though. THAT much is obvious."

[Molly Quincannon] "Well, we both have our own ways of networking," is Molly's response to that. She manages to get out of the car on her own but is, for varying reasons, a little slow in heading up the front walk. "We'll both cast out nets in our separate ponds and compare catches with Israel, Solomon and Atlas. Then we come up with a game plan from there. And at some point we talk to Lucian again. Somewhere warded. No, I didn't think he was a bad guy either, but even not-bad guys can have ulterior motives." She grins at him a little about that. It's not just him she's referencing, but ... well. He hit her. End of statement. "Anyway, he did seem to want to tell us more. Just ... got interrupted by chaos. Happens to the best of us. But we've got our own sources. We're good."

Molly's last statement before they ring the bell at Israel's place is, "Not even a tiny chance?"

(The answer, one imagines, is still 'no'. Cue the Jewish Mother Hen act in five ... four ... three...)