Misplaced, But Never Wrong

[Israel Cohen] [[Doing some quick Healing because by this point Sol and Is are running on, like, 48hrs without sleep I think
Life 2, Mind 1. Pick Me Up. Consecrated. Diff: 5. -2 Healing merit. 1 to cast, 1 to include Sol, 1 for Life, 1 for improved Mental Clarity.]] WP
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 3) [WP]

[Israel Cohen] Were this a 'fair' world, Solomon and Israel would have wrapped up their long work by going home and getting some much needed sleep. But a world in which children are stolen by mind-broken Magi on a vendetta and in which others fall prey to dark spiritual entities without seeming rhyme or reason cannot be called 'fair' in the slightest. Such delusions are not help by many Magi. Besides which: The tone of Molly's barely coherent message left no other alternative so far as a woman like Israel was concerned. There was a friend - a very upset friend - who needed her. And that was enough.

So while Solomon drove not home but into Bronzeville well south of Israel's neighbourhood, Israel went through the course of a simple-enough Rote to refresh them both, playing off of the blending of their Patterns, something that Molly now has far better reason to understand more intimately than most any other Mage in the city except, perhaps, Nathan. And when they arrive and make their way up to the front door of the once-auto shop, Solomon even now no doubt still looks as immaculate as he wood had he just had a good nights sleep and his usual healthful morning routine. Israel doesn't look tired, though still solemn - concerned - and the only real indication that she's not slept herself is that her hair isn't freshly washed and blow-dried straight so that the mass and length of it instead falls in its natural ebon curls and waves and unruliness, well down to near the small of her back.

At the front door she takes care to touch the doorbell just so, taking a moment to make sure she had the memory of its location well in mind; taking care to rely on other little cues to help with placement...
...taking care to warn Solomon just before the tip of right pointer finger depresses the button:
"Ah, Molly has ferrets... just so you know."

[Solomon Ward] "Rodents..." is all he says, though it has a dry undertone. The single word was almost enough to express I despise rodents, though in his own usual brevity. It was a night for serious things and so Solomon's tone and posture were much the same. The same stern black and white suit that he seemed to have in bulk, it's only color the silver Crucifix on his lapel... even that didn't little to break up what many interpreted as the monotony of it. After all, its placement never changed either.

It's the sort of suit morticians and tax collectors were, only more expensive than the Sears Hundred Dollar rack.

He takes a careful note of Israel's own carefulness around the door. He doesn't ask, but there is a moment of subtle curiosity on his scarred features... why not simply walk up and knock? Still, he rarely questions Israel and she has been here before and so he simply follows her lead, waiting.

[Molly Quincannon] (The reason that Israel doesn't knock on the door will be clear to Solomon if he looks at the door. It sports a sign that says "DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE" and the traditional lightning-bolt sign indicating the same thing to the illiterate.)

Molly does indeed have ferrets. What Israel did not warn Solomon about was their habitat; the maze of tubes and chutes and interconnected enclosures fastened to the walls and ceiling, all in bright colours, spanning not only the main 'living room' area but likely the entire building, given how some tubes disappear through holes in the walls. The rest of the place is a riot of colour and mismatched furniture and humming computers and a bedroom-ish sort of space screened off in a far corner and...

Well. It's eclectic, and in some ways as frantic as the place's primary occupant.

That's the impression of what's going on behind Molly when she opens the door. Molly herself looks uncharacteristically flat. She hasn't redyed her hair yet, though at least it has been washed (she had to shower; there'd been blood everywhere), and she looks at least as frazzled and underslept as Israel and Solomon ought to look but don't. Still, she manages a smile for some of her favourite people - okay, it's tiny and it doesn't last, but she tries - and steps aside to let them into her ... 'miscellaneous', is the best word ... home.

"...Hi," she says. "Um ... make yourselves at home. There's coffee, if you want it." Lots and lots of coffee, from the smell; brewed strong. "Also little banana bread loafs. Like ... what you'd get if someone was cross-breeding a loaf of banana bread with a muffin."

[Israel Cohen] "Hi, Molly," of course there is a responding greeting. And for her part, when Israel moves to enter [which is no doubt ahead of Solomon, being as he is] she waits for the close of the front door and then uses the sound of Molly's voice; the way area noises shift when the door closes and cuts off sounds from the street; the feel of Molly herself: Both the human heat and sense and the Resonance that is right now at odds with how Molly looks [not that Israel can see it to tell but it probably carries through in the other womans voice]... she uses these cues to place a hand on Molly's arm, slide up and find the shoulder. The warmth of that hand is striking, especially in the winter when they should be chilled. Warmth that seeps through at shoulder - soft press - then cup of cheek - tenderness.

"Coffee would be nice... I'm sorry we couldn't come earlier some unexpected business was brought to our attention and couldn't wait..." her acceptance of this being the way of things does not diminish her regret. A beat and then, softer , "How are you, haverti?"

[Solomon Ward] "Good evening, Ms. Quincannon", not bothering to hide the fact that he looks over her place in rather focused detail. Size, interconnection of the tubes. Egress points, if any, for her rodent collection. Doors and windows. Areas of cover. What furniture is more sturdy, useful as cover. What furniture may be used as a weapon of opportunity. A standard and thorough routine for the man; it lasts about 7 seconds from start to finish. By then enough is filed away and noted to be useful, should it be required.

"Banana bread?" he inquires, the scarred cheek of his twitching slightly in what may have been a smirk at her attempt to describe the food... but Solomon doesn't smirk, so no, it must not have been... . bastard.

"Coffee would be splendid, thank you. A splash of milk, no sugar, please... "
Coffee would be well accepted at the hour and the amount of time the man has been awake, though he is normally quite reserved about such stimulants, never mind the fact he peddles coffee stock. His life is nearly aescetic at times...

Still though, a good cup of strong coffee would perk him up, ease the cold outside, and perhaps cover the musk scent of vermin.

[Molly Quincannon] The 'rodents' are contained - the only potential point of egress in the main room is into a meshed-over playpen. One of them - a tan-and-cream creature - has climbed halfway up the mesh to peer in at the new arrivals; a smaller, darker shape is scurrying and chittering its way through the tubes overhead. Neal and Hardison; the con artist and the spaz. Beyond that, the most sturdy bit of furniture in the place is the customer service counter, which supports Molly's fairly impressive computer rig. There's a red cushy loveseat. There's a recently reupholstered armchair. There are a lot of beanbags. There's a glass-topped dining table with cushy dining chairs around it. That's about it for furniture. Best not to list the tech; we'd be here all day.

To the touch ... by the time Israel's hand reaches Molly's cheek, it likely encounters a tear, at least before Molly reaches up, put her hand over Israel's (gently and with that warning-hover she's taken to with Israel) and squeezed it gently before taking it away. She doesn't let go immediately; there's a moment of just holding that warm hand as she says, "...I've been worse." It's spoken quietly, a little hoarsely, and a lot like the externalisation of an internal litany that's been going on awhile.

Then she lets go of Israel's hand and she can be heard as well as seen to straighten herself up and get a bit of a grip. "Right. Coffee. And yes, banana bread. But ... it's not ... I'll just show you." And off she goes to the kitchen to collect coffee and what turn out to be tiny individual loaves of banana bread rather than slices off one big loaf. Solomon's coffee is made the exact colour he had it at the Chantry the other day, and served in a mug that reads, of all things, "I'd Rather Be Fighting Darkspawn". Israel's reads "Warden Amell". Molly's? "I Prepared Explosive Runes This Morning".

Then, with everyone settled in whatever bit of furniture they find comfortable, Molly ... well, she is who she is. She asks questions. "You guys are okay, right? When you said something came up, I was a little worried. Not that you can't handle yourselves, but ... you know how it is."

[Israel Cohen] Encountering the wet touch of tears causes the blind womans expression to shift from guarded concern to open worry for a singular moment... and did Molly not squeeze the hand and then move it away she might well have gone into full out hug-and-comfort-and-try-try-try-to-make-it-better mode [one day - god willing? - she will make a fine mother. one day she may also get killed for moving on such gut impulses of caring]. But she is reasonable as well as empathic and understands the cue... and with an understanding [sympathetic. encouraging.] smile, nods and lets the woman move to straighten herself, gather herself, using the role of hostess to aid.

Moving to the loveseat - tap, tap, tap goes the cane with a measured, small arch that she uses indoors and a outstretched right hand just to play it extra safe and make sure she doesn't topple over unknown obstacles - she settles there... "The banana loaves smell good." But, like Solomon, it's the coffee she is most interested in. The coffee that she sips with gratitude before responding, half a chagrin on her features, her tone, "One of my cousins became aware of a young girl suffering what he accurately judged as an illness rooted in Spirit Possession.... this is Solomon's area of knowledge and experience more so than mine, I was along to give what small help I could." Which is actually keeping the girls body and mind alive while Solomon dealt with her Soul and the Being riding it, but, being Israel, she doesn't put it that way. "This... Thing... was more subtle than most. It had deep hooks in the girl and took some time. But Solomon was successful," her pride in the man is a quiet, softspoken, hushed thing... but no less poignantly earnest for it.
Any other details she leaves to Solomon.

"...and you, Molly? I take it... things did not go well..."

[Solomon Ward] Solomon doesn't bother going into details about it. It's one part personality; the man is not a braggart. Skilled, accomplished, and to some degree the sheer amount of magic and monster killing he's done in Chicago since his arrival is nearly mind boggling... . Not once has he bothered to bring it to any ones attention or rub it in.

It's another part 'technical-talk', so to speak. No one gives a shit what medical parlance a doctor uses if they themselves are not a doctor... he understands this and avoids it, lest he get into some sort of half pedagogical and half patronizing explanation of what took place.

So no, no real detail.

He took his place beside Israel, watching Molly intently due to the tears and the nature of her posture and speech. While not an uncaring man, his sense of compassion pales when placed next to Israel, and so he lets his long time friend and partner handle it. She does this much better than he does any how.

The idea of fighting darkspawn is amusing as he reads the coffee cup. He isn't sure what they are, but it sounds fitting. "Quiet fine. Thank you. ..." he leaves off, letting Israel's question become his own as well, genuinely curious but not pressing.

[Molly Quincannon] First thing is, of course, first - the good news. "The boy - Brandon - he's safe. Thomas pulled him out, and I found his maternal grandparents in Indiana. They'll be coming to get him. ...He's with Ashley, for now." Clearly, Molly's not entirely happy about this. Just as clearly, she really didn't have any say in the matter.

Nor is she happy about the rest. "The Chorister - Gabriel - he died defending Brandon. Anya ... I guess tried to shoot Brandon, and Gabriel stood between them. Then ... then it was a free-for-all until one of the Horsemen - the Euthanatos of the group ... he shot Anya. Then he shot Ben. Head-shots. They're both dead."

Deep breath, and Molly curls up around her coffee, her banana loaf ignored. "They ... do you remember how I said before, about how Nora was saying that Anya was made into what she became by Ben's actions? And I said I thought it was probably something that the Technocracy did directly to her?" (She does not say that Solomon stated that it was probably a loved one of hers that had been tortured. That part doesn't matter.) "Well ... turns out that was actually the case. He may or may not have been innocent in the matter of the ... Avatar-destroying drug. He might, when he died, have been seeking redemption. But it doesn't change the fact that, seven years ago, he tortured Anya and ... pretty much drove her nuts. And apparently, her cabal didn't notice. Or ... maybe they did and didn't think she needed any kind of intervention. So ... they let her run around loose and then killed her. And then him for doing it to her. So ... Benjamin Roberts was a monster. Whether he was coming back from that ... whether he could have been ... something else; at least a father? We're never going to know, now."

[Israel Cohen] The news that the boy is safe does bring a flex-spike of relief. The news that he is with Ashley in the intern causes an eyebrow to flex and her head to cant slightly, a puzzled and slightly uncertain expression... that she pushes away for now. Whatever else she may think of the Hermetic or however odd the idea of Ashley caring for a child may strike her she isn't so moved by it to feel the situation requires immediate remedy.

News of the deaths... the three of them... is met with solemn, somber silence. To hear that the Chorister died in defense of the child deepens Sorrow, yes, but a sense of Right as well. To die in the defense of an innocent is a worthy self sacrifice. For Anya there is that Sorrow too and yes for Ben, though for each it is of a different sort. Of waste. Of inevitability. Of wreck and ruin and the trump of violent death where Healing fails...
...or, worse yet, was never truly attempted.
As the details - the revelations - are spoken that sense from her is only heightened. Understanding and disappointment both. Acceptance that doesn't make her complacent but keeps her from going insane.

For a long moment she doesn't speak, instead... processing. Then, quietly, "I'm sorry, Molly... I know you wanted to believe in what he told you. But take some comfort in this: If there could have been redemption in this life for Benjamin Roberts, then he did find in you someone who was willing to help him find it and that is a gift. And even if he wanted no such thing... it speaks well of your Heart that you were willing to keep it open and well of your Mind that you did so with as much prudence and realism as you could. That isn't an easy balance, haverti. Most cannot manage it. It sounds to me like there were a lot of crimes and negligence all along the dark history of these peoples paths... much to lament and regret. Faced against that you did what you could and its a good deal more than most attempted or would have even bothered to consider."

[Solomon Ward] Gabriel was dead... regretful, but given the man's lax control over his cabal mate, and the fact the man was a slightly heretical Monist, Solomon didn't much mind... Regretful, but no personal. Still, the fact he was shot while multiple mages attempted to handle the situation spoke poorly fow how it all went down, but he wasn't there to judge. It wasn't fair.

Then again, neither is the world.

Anya was dead. Good. Bitch was psychotic, and good riddance to her. Regardless of what 'caused it'.. that amount of time was time to heal. You have to want to get better in order to get better. Her cabal had failed her. Regrettable, but see the case and point about the world being fair... .

The idea of Ashley looking after a child startles him, almost visibly.
"I will speak to her about finding the boy potentially better accommodations until his kin can be worked out... ."
A Sleeper, a child, and a hermetic who can't be bothered to worry about what doesn't directly affect her; Solomon is at unease over this.

Finally, quietly, after Israel had spoken. Almost an after thought, an echo to her words.
"Lord make me an instrument of your peace…grant that I may not so much seek to be loved as to love,", a single line from the prayer to Saint Francis.

[Molly Quincannon] There's a great deal of rue and wry and bitter to the note of humour in Molly's voice now, as well as (to the perceptive) an undercurrent of horror that hasn't been heard to any degree for some months how when she says, "Oh, I still believe in what he told me. Sort of. I think. I don't know. The problem was the questions I didn't think to ask. Maybe he was telling the truth about the one part, but I didn't think to ask about seven years ago, did I? Maybe it was a gift to him, but ... no." Her jaw sets and she looks rather stubborn for a second. "I'd do the same again. The day I stop giving people the benefit of the doubt, even with all due caution in place in case I'm wrong ... you can shoot me, stuff me, mount me."

Then she shudders and explains the light tinge of horror in her voice. "The Euthanatos ... Evan ... he showed me a video clip of that going down. No idea how he got it. Don't know how much worse it got. But... I think he thought he was sparing me by only showing a bit, but all the same..." Israel and Solomon know better than almost anyone why being shown something like that would get to Molly. And, because she is curious and not without bravery, she takes a breath and asks it. "If you thought ... for one second ... that I could go that way. You'd ... do something, wouldn't you? Not let it go that far?"

When she gathers herself up from that particular train of thought, it's with a wan but more centred smile. "His grandparents are hopping the first plane they can. Brandon won't be there more than a day. But you go ahead and talk to her if you want to. I ... suggested you two, as a place for him to go. Y'know, because Israel is of the warm caregiver type and no one could imagine you letting them get hurt and there's good food and puppy. But she was determined and..." She looks away, somewhat embarrassed. "I just ... didn't have it in me to argue after the fight. And I was in no shape to look after him. Physically we were all fine, but ... up here." She taps her temple for emphasis.

[Israel Cohen] There is a sense that Israel is stirring when Molly speaks with rue and wry and the bitter; speaks of what she failed to do... a stirring that is the instinctive unrest to guide a torrent that could become a flood that could be more damaging - over time - than events already have been... but Molly stops herself and Israel's body language settles back, her form brushing against Solomon's who can no doubt read her every motion as clearly as she reads by Braille.
"We must always learn from our experiences... without allowing the hurt of the lesson to seal us shut with festering scars, see? People deserve the benefit of the doubt where it can be given... I would loathe to see that openness gone from you, Molly. It truly - truly - is a gift, not just me uttering the right, comforting words. There are times where I have gotten too close to despairing while chastising myself over what I could have or should have done or when my Hope turns out to be.. misplaced." One hand touches Sol's arm, largely without even thinking about it: It is he who has most often pulled her from those times were the Sorrow in her threatened to drown.
"Misplaced... but never wrong in and of itself."

Then the traces of horror, stronger. She speaks of seeing a clip of torture and Israel winces slightly. Such would have been hard for most but, oh yes, she knows why it hit Molly even harder. And so she rises and moves - with care and some unavoidable hesitation as she moves without her guide cane - to sit or kneel or whatever beside Molly. Find her hand. Take it. Hold it. "Myself. Solomon. Nathan. We would do whatever we could to help you and... yes... if need be to stop you. Even if it meant saving you from yourself. But in my heart that is not a path I see you taking, haverti, so be at ease."

At Molly's words about how she suggested Israel and Solomon - at 'good food and a puppy' - her lips quirk, half a smile, then she squeezes the other womans hand. "Everyone has to pick and choose their battles. You made the right choice there, given the circumstances."

[Solomon Ward] "I understand, Ms. Quincannon. You did the best you could," nodding slightly to the words before he sipped his coffee. Arguing anything with, Ms. McGowen could be a trial. After every thing that had occurred, he couldn't fault her on that.

"As to...your request... . Rest assured we would never let it get so far," though there is room for interpretation in the mans words. Perhaps he means that they would tend better care for their friends and comrades. It never would have gotten so far. Or perhaps the bullet wouldn't have been half a decade over due. Its some what hard to tell, as neutral as his scarred larynx and rough shod voice can be at times.

"With he grandparents... has any one dealt with the mortal and legal implications of what took place? Cover ups, forensics, et cetera? Or are we just dumping the child on the grand parents with a 'dont ask' and a prayer?"

[Molly Quincannon] It's not that Israel's comments have gone unheard, nor that they will go unanswered. But Solomon's questions have answers that need to come first. "The remaining Horsemen are handling the clean-up. It's frankly the least they can do. I'm keeping an eye on what they're doing but so far, nothing heavy's been flagged. Ashley's abilities with Mind, I presume, are doing the rest. Brandon didn't see anything after his mother got shot, so all she really needs to do is ensure that he believes that Ashley's a friend of his mother's. Everything else, near as I can figure, can be explained away by shock. There's no hiding what happened to his mother, and blocking that out of his head would probably do more damage in the long run, but details? Well, all they have is 'some lunatic woman' with a description matching someone with a sealed juvenile record who's just going to disappear. Like I said, I'll keep an eye but I don't really think any of them are going to leave messes that lead to them or us. It's not in their best interests. So it'll go down as 'psychopath gunned down the mother, boy was in shock, friend came by to take custody of him until...' And like that. Unless you can think of anything else, I think that'll work. Sometimes simplest is best."

Israel gets a squeeze of the hand and a smile. "Thanks. It means a lot." That's for both of them, for their assurances. Yes, even if it means that the bullet wouldn't be half a decade overdue. In fact, especially if it means that. She wouldn't want them to have to, of course (And that's why I hung on; it'd have killed something in Israel, to not be able to fix it, not be able to help; I had to hang on so that there'd be some coming back...)

Another shudder, but she's okay, really. "I don't want to be all hardened either. It doesn't suit me. Careful? Sure. But the armour has to be able to come off. Without the metaphysical or metaphorical equivalent of a diamond-tipped drill, anyway. I'm going to be okay." That's purely for Israel ... where it isn't for herself. "Just ... when stuff hits, it hits deep. Nature of the Trad, I guess."

[Israel Cohen] At Molly explanations for cleanup Israel nods... hesitantly, but she nods. "I don't think Ashley would go overboard with memory alterations. She may have some questionable beliefs regarding Sleepers as a whole and as much of a disdain for the Technocracy as most of us, but I don't think she'd go overboard on a kids mind or confuse him for a Technocrat himself no matter what his father did or who he was. As it is the matter may already be out of our hands in a few hours..."

Frowning slightly she shakes her head, "If you want to make sure, though, Sol, you may have time to go find out if you leave now. Or to head home and rest," the last said with a smile in his direction - more spot-on for him than it tends to be for others: In many ways it is no different than finding the precise location of her own pulse - tender with its knowledge of his need for real rest. "For my part - assuming you don't mind Molly - I think I'm right where I need to be for a while."
It's an offer made: She will gladly just stay and share in Molly's company unless the other woman would really rather be left alone.

[Solomon Ward] "So one might hope" is his only response. Nearly neutral, not quite. Suggestive. He really doesn't trust Ashley with any one, or any thing, that doesn't have enough power to assert itself to her.

The man stands and sets the coffee cup down, taking a moment to push and smooth imaginary creases in his slacks and to check the buttons of his coat before walking over towards Israel. One might have imagined there would be more show between them. A ring in her finger, the obvious sense of connection between them. The detailed sense of connection of them through the bond.

He only reached out and touched her hand briefly, a singular moment of discoloration along her flesh to indicate he had squeezed it at all.

"I'll be by shorty to leave some things for you." Toiletries, fresh clothing, a small overnight bag, a pistol... the little things a lady needs.

"If you need me..." well, he really didn't have to say it, did he. She'd get a hold of him.
"I'll show myself out. Thank you for he coffee, Ms. Quincannon."
And so he does.

[Molly Quincannon] "Um ... no, Solomon..." Molly gets up quickly, with a squeeze of Israel's hand, so she can disarm the front door so that Solomon can get out without zapping himself. "Thanks for coming by. It's good to see you, just generally. And no problem; I'd deprive no thinking creature his or her coffee." (The coffee, at least, had been the stuff that Israel got her. Perhaps not so grumble-worthy for Solomon, who seems picky about such things.)

And then it's Molly and Israel, and Molly sounds a little more herself - a little more cheerful, edging more towards her Resonance, when she says, "Right. Want to raid the fridge? Let's try to come up with a brunch worthy of ... well, maybe not conquering heroes, but at least people who are holding together pretty damn well in a world that gets wearing. I'm thinking waffles. I have chocolate chips somewhere."

Let's face it. Waffles make all things better.