[Molly Quincannon] The Chantry House; a fine slice of Americana smack in the middle of one of Chicago's nicer (but not too nice) areas. It's unremarkable, inside and out (beyond the attic and basement, but not everyone's allowed in there), and it's generally quite quiet these days. Today is no different, beyond the copious clackety-clack-clatter of fingers on keyboard from the kitchen. Well, that and the smell of almond cookies, but that's not precisely loud; just a faint smell mixing in with that of strong coffee to make a sort of amaretto aroma.
Molly got a phone call that she was about half-expecting, not because she knew who would be on the other end or what they'd say, but just because she's been sifting through so many likely/potential/possible/high-odds futures by now that she's having a hard time keeping them all straight. The only reason she knows to be at the Chantry House for her turn on sentry duty, and to ask Elizabeth to meet her there while she's on said sentry duty tour, is because of her own phenomenal sense of time and excessively retentive memory. Thus she arranges meeting with Elizabeth, finally figuring out why almond cookies had seemed like such a good idea during her last food-prep break (Chinese desserts hadn't been something she'd tried up until then, but her baking has got very good with practice) and does the usual sentry rounds as she waits.
When Elizabeth opens the front door, therefore, she'll hear Molly call out from a doorway to the left, where she might remember a kitchen to be: "Hi, Elizabeth!" A kettle starts to whistle. "Tea? I brought the good green stuff. And there's almond cookies, if that kind of thing isn't against the whole ascetic vibe. Just thought you might be hungry and I always bring food to the House." And thus Elizabeth finds Molly, who looks a little spaced and like she hasn't had a proper night's sleep in about a week, standing at the island counter dividing the cooking area from the breakfast area, pouring coffee with a steaming kettle, a teapot and an extra cup (evidently all prepared for Elizabeth, apparently by some random quirk of perfect timing) along with a plate of almond cookies.
[Elizabeth Zhao] She has been to the Chantry just once before, in order to show Solomon and Israel a very disturbing piece of video footage that had been pulled off a laptop. Today, she is only a little more at ease. She doesn't have any massacres to show anyone but she has had one heck of an information dump put on her, with several surprises. Like, soap opera 'You have a twin you never knew' level surprises.
So yes, she's a bit less than perfectly at ease when she slips inside the chantry, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Molly calls out, and Elizabeth heads that way. Her usual, polite smile adorns her face; she's simply a bit more tentative than usual. "Good afternoon, Miss Quincannon," she calls out before she sees the other. "Tea would be lovely; otherwise I am fine. How are you?"
[Molly Quincannon] "You, at least, I can tell not to call me that," she says, cheerful but firm. "'Miss Quincannon'; seriously? I know it's supposed to be a mark of respect but we've fought side-by-side, sort of, so you get to call me 'Molly'; okay? Seriously. It's bad enough from Solomon. I always feel like I'm back in high school getting called up on the carpet for back-talking the teacher. ...Or in grade school getting called up on the carpet for pretty much the same thing. Honestly, you didn't learn anything at my school if you were female unless you beat the information out of any source possible with a big, sarcastic stick."
Apparently, the answer to Elizabeth's question is 'overcaffeinated'. The answer she gives verbally, however, is, "Oh, fine; frustrated and worried and angry and out of the loop and a little bit confused--" suddenly there's a cup of tea with a cookie set on the saucer being thrust at Elizabeth "--and I would be getting such shit for my general habits lately if there were some of the usual suspects around to see it but they aren't so there isn't so this is the part where you're giving me that look that says I don't make any sense and am overwhelming you with nonsensical and unimportant intel--" no, she's not looking at Elizabeth when she says this "--and you're probably right so ... fine?" Then she turns and looks at Elizabeth properly, slightly sheepish. "Take a seat. What's up? You said you had news and it sounded world-shaking."
[Elizabeth Zhao] A little smile as she comes into view. It is apologetic when she is told to not call her Miss Quincannon. "Very well. Molly."
The tea is thrust at her and she takes it, giving a grateful nod. She listens to the woman as she talks about being frustrated, worried, angry, confused, out of the loop...the Akashic can certainly relate. She takes a seat, sipping at her tea a moment before she speaks.
"I spoke with Mister Anders the other day. He said that I should get in contact with you, as I have information that is relevant to what you are looking for." Actually, more that she IS information relevant, but...details.
[Molly Quincannon] Molly had been looking at her coffee in preparation to chug it (like she needs any more of it, frankly) when Elizabeth mentioned Anders, though there was a bit of a wry, fond smile that says, quite eloquently, That man does get around, doesn't he? ... though there's rue there as well, for whatever reason. But when Elizabeth speaks her last sentence, Molly's head snaps up quick enough to beg questions about whether or not she gave herself whiplash. The questions mass in her eyes for a moment but don't come out of her mouth; there are so many of them that they have effectively bottlenecked.
Finally, she starts asking them, not necessarily in order of importance but just because she has to start somewhere: "What exactly did he tell you? Do you know why I'm ... well, I'm sorry if I seem kind of overly gung-ho about this, but if he told you ... did he tell you why it's urgent to go so fast, now? Oh, great Google, you didn't get caught in one of the shit-storms that've been hitting because of Sending-Entity-I-Don't-Even-Know, did you? And if so, you okay? Man, I got into one of those and it was one of the milder ones beyond getting pistol-whipped by my own backup; anyway, never mind, not important. More important to know things like, are you okay? Do you know what this thing is and most of all, what -- who -- it's using for power? And last but not least, what's the information? I mean, you do know about who I'm looking for, right? The person - kid, probably - who's going to Awaken into Quiet?"
[Administrator] The Tellurian is fucking pleased as punch to see this scene happening!
[Administrator] The Tellurian just thought it would let you all know!
[Elizabeth Zhao] The Ecstatic's sudden jerking up of her head is not unsurprising to Elizabeth. She has a similar sense of urgency, even if it's buried underneath the civility. Perhaps that is why there was no bow and the opening pleasantries were cut to a fairly short 'How are you.' She looks up at Molly, seeing the many questions in the other's expression before they start flowing out.
She raises a hand when Molly asks if she's all right. "I am...all right, yes. I was present for the...the Hand of God that has been reported on the news. I was in the presence of the Black Madonna, yes. It was...disquieting. I lost access not only to my enlightenment, but also my past incarnations."
A little shiver. She's still not over it. "But I am fine," she asserts. "Yes, I do know of the urgency. Israel, Solomon, Atlas and others are trapped and being...drained. We must act quickly if we are to save them. And yes, I know what the Black Madonna is...the sending. And the innocent."
She pauses once more, brow furrowing. "According to Mr. Anders, the child has...a connection to one of my past incarnations. Between Cheng Li and myself, there was Jonathon Webber. He was born here, and spent the majority of his life in this city. He died in Vietnam. The innocent is somehow tied to that incarnation."
[Molly Quincannon] "............The what?!?"
Understand that this is not a question of not knowing what the Black Madonna is. It is the fact that such a thing is being graced with any kind of name at all, much less one that holds the potential for such beauty and terror and thus, as a consequence, power. "Oh, fuck a bunch of that," she says when words line up again. "The 'Black Madonna' my ass; she's an uppity voicemail message. An email with an attitude problem. Sound and fury signifying some batshit crazy ideal that's destroying half the fucking city and disturbing sleeping minds before their time and I am not going to ... to glorify something that terrorises children and eats my friends - and not in the fun way - with that kind of title. She's a time capsule with a fucking screw loose!"
Then she takes a breath and shakes her head. "Sorry. I ... are you going to be okay with finding this ... what, descendent? Sort of? I mean, is it ... is it hard, thinking of encountering the lives that went before, or evidence thereof, in the flesh? And if they do Awaken and we fix the Quiet ... are you going to tell them?"
[Elizabeth Zhao] She doesn't seem offended by Molly's diatribe. In fact, the normally-reserved Akashic's lips quirk upward just a touch. She gives a little bit of a nod. "I understand what you are saying, Molly. I use 'The Black Madonna' only because it is more convenient than 'The Sending Gone Awry.' The spirits take on the forms and identities of mythological concepts a fair amount of the time. I am not elevating it with the name, merely giving it an easily identifiable form."
When Molly asks if she's okay with it, Elizabeth frowns. "I am fine with it. It has nothing to do with thinking of the past. I live half in the past, half in the present most of the time anyway. In this case, it is the shock of a descendant that I had no idea that Jonathon even had. It is not the first person from my past that I have encountered--my mentor, Shen Long, was my previous incarnation's student. It is simply that I have no idea what to expect. Or how to handle it when we do."
A sigh. "So I do not know if I will tell them about Jonathon. Perhaps."
[Molly Quincannon] Molly shrugs with a derisive snort. "You might not elevate it, but others hear that name and they might. I'm not giving that ... that entity thing one shred of respect. Not after what it's done. It forced a vision of a suicide on a ten-year-old boy. I think I'll just stick with 'the Sending', thanks." Elizabeth knows, from the Four Horsemen thing, that Molly often - nearly always, in fact - defaults to 'benefit of the doubt' position. In this case, however, she gives no quarter. Perhaps it's Israel and Atlas. Perhaps it's the boy she mentioned. Perhaps it's martial law being declared in parts of the city she calls home. Either way, there is no 'benefit of the doubt'. There is no glorifying. There is no making it sound poetic. There is hate.
But it is brushed aside, back-burnered, because there is a problem at hand. "Okay. So you remember this Jonathon Webber. That's a start. I don't figure Life would work which is good because I don't know it from a hole in a wall anyway, but the Time angle ... Mind for your memories, if you can call those up, and a Time/Entropy extrapolation codification with some Correspondence thrown in because I'm probably going to need a farther-off where..." Then she starts muttering strings of numbers, figuring things out in her head complete with variables, imaginary numbers, and mish-mash gobbledygook words that are likely meant to denote symbols and concepts for which mundane mathematics has no definition. This is Awakened mathematics, on the fly, and it's clear to anyone watching that she's itching for a pencil and paper, or a whiteboard and marker, or something to add to the tactile experience of working this out ... though there's also an element of delight in it - a quiet, if effervescent joy of one who is doing what one was put on this earth to do.
After that, she swigs down half of her lukewarm coffee at a go and blinks, another question suddenly occurring. "Is ... it going to be a problem, or something you're not comfortable with, me ... Seeing one of your previous incarnations that way? I mean, I don't know how invasive that sort of thing could be. I ... believe in the concept, but I don't remember any of mine, assuming I'm not on my first go-around."
[Elizabeth Zhao] She nods at what Molly says about the Sending. She does not feel as strongly--whether it's that she does not know Israel and Atlas as closely, or she hasn't had as bad of an experience with the entity, or simply that as an ascetic she is keeping her emotions in check, it is difficult to say. But she says nothing to counter Molly's hate. She knows everyone has their own way, and she would never counter someone's unless it infringes upon someone else.
And she certainly isn't suggesting that the Sending qualifies on that level.
"I believe using me to contact them is best, yes. I leave that to you to figure out how. But no, I do not foresee a problem with seeing my incarnation like that. It is simply...the way that it is. It would be no different than reading my own mind, as far as I am concerned."
[Molly Quincannon] "Yeah, and that's why I asked," Molly replies, giving her a bit of a grin. "I'd hate someone to go poking around in my memories without my express permission. Time-scrying's one thing; sometimes it can be very useful to see what someone's done, or what's become of them..." Clearly she's had a lot of experience on that score, on both the Seeing and the Being Seen end. "Thing is, memories are different. They're coloured with bits of you; bits that not everyone is willing to let other people see without just cause. I'm not going to talk you out of it, believe me, but ... I guess I just want to be sure that you're okay, and ... kind of wonder how you are so calm about it. I mean, I don't intend to be invasive, but ... this is who you were. Not a lot of people see that part of you. It's ... I guess what I'm saying is that it's an honour and I hope I deserve it. Even if I'm saying it really clumsily."
[Elizabeth Zhao] She smiles a bit. The expression is...well, more expressive than one may be used to from Elizabeth. With her past lives torn away from her recently, even for a short time, she found something she didn't expect--a young girl who has never lived without those memories of other lives, even if only in a hazy, half-remembered way. That young girl has come up to the surface a bit more, and it means that she is feeling her emotions stronger, at times.
"My memories are, of course, mine. They are the only possessions I have that I would say that I truly cherish, beyond my ritual tools. And I appreciate that you are checking to make sure that I am okay with it. But I am. I would not just give people license to look in at their leisure, but..."
She frowns a little, and then shrugs. "This is different. Lives are at stake. I can say I do not wish to have my mind looked into and allow terrible things to happen, or I can accept what is necessary. I choose the latter, and I trust you with doing so."
[Molly Quincannon] Molly smiles back at Elizabeth, grateful and oddly joyful, in spite of everything; ever frantic, ever the whirlwind, ever the Cultist, Molly Quincannon takes her joys where she can and acknowledges them as befits their stations as the universe's greatest miracles. Then (not because she speaks any languages but her own, unless you count sign, but she believes in learning a few very simple phrases in several languages because they are universal and needful), she says, "Xie xie. Or doh je. Not sure where in China you're from or whether it's Mandarin or Cantonese there, but ... thank you. I'm honoured by the trust. It won't be abused."
Then she ducks under the table and comes up with her laptop bag and a pen-looking device (she won't recognise it as a sonic screwdriver, but that's what it is, in essence). "Now," she says, a light in her eyes that speaks of determination, tenacity, joy and just a hint of 'mad scientist', "I just need to take a reading and then ... let's do this thing."
She activates the pen device, sending out a brief burst of light and sound from its tip (though Elizabeth doesn't feel any particular invasion; just a sense that her measure is being taken, Resonance and mental imprint both). Then she checks something on the side, nods once, and turns to her laptop to flip it open ... and that's when Elizabeth Zhao gets to see Molly really Work.
[Elizabeth Zhao] She smiles a little bit, slightly amused. "I am from San Fransisco. My grandparents came from Beijing though, so it would be the Mandarin."
And she settles back to watch Molly, let her work.
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