Geek Girls

[Molly Quincannon] [[Awareness, for shits and giggles.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Riley Poole] [oo oo me too!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] So the red-hot minute that Molly dropped off a certain Virtual Adept of her acquaintance and got back on board the Lafette, Molly was emailing Riley:

Hey, Angelofpwn! Heard you're back in town! If you emailed me, sorry; an ancient Sumerian god probably ate it. Enki's a dick. But what're you gonna do? Besides meet me up for coffee, of course; the look has changed, as has the feel, but I'm pretty sure you can pick me out of a crowd. Does Wednesday work for you? Gimme a time and I'll be there.

Also, welcome back!

SisterQ

The coffee shop she names in the email responding to the question of when is Joe's, and it's a nice place - mismatched comfy furniture, huge mismatched mugs, fireplace, the works. And sat in a squashy purple armchair in one corner of the room is ... well, despite the change in hairstyle (it's brown now, and longer than it should be, given the time Riley's been away) and the additions to Resonance (it's not just Frantic anymore, though that's still there; it's Frantic with a sense of Searching and an anchoring Tenacity), it couldn't be anyone but Molly, with the laptop bag and the T-shirt that reads "I Am Currently Preoccupied With Telling The Laws of Physics to Shut Up and Sit Down --Vaarsuvius" and the copious tattoos...

...And the tackle-hug when Riley walks in. "Hey! Long time no see! How were the warmer climes? And lucky you, you missed at least three different attempts at Armageddon! Did you find excitement of your own elsewhere? Just ... agh, too many questions and the first one is, what do you want to drink?"

[Riley Poole] Though there's no way for Molly to know it, the email found in Riley's inbox was met with an actual slap to the VA's forehead. She responded immediately, refusing to let ancient Sumerians gods take the fall for her not getting back in touch sooner. A place was agreed on, with Riley arriving a handful of minutes beyond the agreed on time.

There have been changes to Molly Quincannon. Her hair is too long and a different shade; the difference in her Resonance is noted just a second before Riley finds herself tackled into a hug. Life growing up with a physical trainer has given her the balance needed to keep the pair of them upright so that the hug can be enthusiastically returned.

"Hey," she says, laughing with it. "Sorry I'm late, I had to play the seeking game with the inside of some guy's box just to find out he'd cleaned up all the beer he spilled on his power supply." Pulling back, she rolls her eyes at the stupidity of men, and looks over the other woman. "Oh my god, your hair is totally adorable!" The Virtual Adept for the most part looks the same. Her skin is still tanned from time spent south, but her hair is still long and dark and wavy. She's dressed in jeans and her Chucks and a green t-shirt that says If Life Gives You Lemons KEEP THEM Because, Hey, Free Lemons. Her resonance is still charged, still yearns. The only obvious change is the tattoo of small flowers that encircles her right wrist like a bracelet.

"Well," she says, still smiling and aiming them toward the counter for said drinking, "I'd take anything if they could toss in a shot of amaretto or Bailey's after that last guy, but I guess I can settle for..." she looks at the board, "I think I'm going to get an iced mocha with at least two espresso shots." This last is directed more toward the barista.

"I heard," she says to Molly. "I saw Atlas, poor guy. Though, I have to say? I think the touch of grey really works for him."

[Molly Quincannon] "They do quintuple-shot mochas here. I bet they do 'em iced too," she says. "That's what I'm going to have. I love this place," she says. "And I'm paying. As to Atlas ... man, you should have seen him when he first got back ... or, possibly, not. Poor guy indeed. I've kicked some ass in my time, but kicking the ass of responsible parties in that matter? Was so satisfying you have no idea."

Drinks received and paid for, she settles back in the seats she's more or less commandeered for the two of them and swigs her quintuple-caffeinated monstrosity of a beverage. "I like the tat. But then, I would. And ... yeah. The Atlas thing ... which got Israel and Wren and a couple of kids who ended up getting the Great Universal Boot To The Head of a wake-up call out of the whole mess, and I just hope I'm actually doing enough to help Atlas get through it, 'cos I'm living on the Lafette now 'cos I managed to get out of a Mirrorshade raid completely scot-free with about an hour's notice, which is kind of awesome ... anyway, that was just the most recent in a long string of nasty." Her voice is quiet; it does not carry beyond their enclave. "But it's mostly got solved, if ... y'know, with a more than average amount of torture, death and mayhem. Also the Gun-Butt of Chivalry, but that's sort of peripheral. But there's some pretty awesome news floating around too, if you know where to look for it. I learned to cook!"

So Molly eventually remembers to breathe, gives a sheepish grin and says, "But you're right about the touch of grey. I just ... it's gotta be hard for him, he hasn't changed in so long, and then suddenly he has, and ... that'd throw anybody. And thanks for the compliment about the hair. It's ... almost my natural shade, actually. Brought about by that raid thing I mentioned. I tried blonde but ... well, that didn't work."

[Riley Poole] Riley's used to this, this rush of a data dump from Molly. She settles into her seat, lounging back with her drink held in one hand, crossing her legs ankle-to-knee, as unladylike as possible. Not that anyone looking at her would worry about her femininity. Her hair has received a minimum of styling, and there's a bit of make-up to accentuate eyes and lips and cheek bones. She's geek chic with a touch of tomboy, but then aren't they all?

She sips her drink while she listens to Molly, nodding here and there. Dark things had been on the rise when she'd left several months ago what with the attack on the chantry and the death of a mage. The mention of torture and further death makes her frown. There's more of a recap of the events that lead to a handful of people skipping out of this world and into a shadow, and she nods. And frowns. And shakes her head, disbelieving that so much could've happened while she was away.

"Hah," she says about the blonde, "I tried that in high school." Dark eyes squeeze shut and she gives an exaggerated shudder. "Luckily the only photographic evidence is in Florida now. And I'm glad he's got people, and that he got the ship running! When I first found out about what happened to him, not that I was told any details just that it was bad, I patrolled the docks almost daily trying to find him. I was afraid I either couldn't see it or it was gone. And congrats on upping your cooking skill, you'll have to show me what you can do sometime. Maybe we can have a cook out for Memorial Day. We did one last year, did you hear about that? Emily and I got Ashley and Atlas to play soccer. Or football," she adds, pulling a face, "as Em called it."

[Molly Quincannon] Mention of Ashley gets ... an expression. It's a slightly worried, slightly exasperated, slightly frustrated sort of thing. But the image of those two playing soccer gets a smile over all of it. "I can see it, but only because I have a really, really good imagination. And unfortunately, I won't be seeing the whole thing in the real; not the Ashley part, anyway. She ... kind of left. There were problems and some of her judgements were ... getting a little questionable and ... well, she threw in the towel on the administrative dean thing and then took off. I guess you know Chuck left too; there was ... stuff." She doesn't know how much Riley knows about Chuck's past, but isn't going to go into it now. Though there's another look when she mentions Chuck; it's hurt. Whatever 'stuff' happened, some of it was personally hurtful to Molly. Which is odd because Chuck doesn't really seem the type.

Still, she glosses it over quickly and moves on to, "So, yeah, it looks like the House isn't going to be base of operations anymore, either, once we set up the other thing. There's a spot in Chicago where consensus is in our favour, now. Vulgar stuff without witnesses nets no bitch-slaps from the universe. And we think we can even move Catherine over there. And I'm setting up something ... secondary. Nothing like Catherine, and nothing like the library, but ... a hangout, crashpad, whatever. A leave-your-politics-at-the-door kind of place. It's been busy. I should write you up Cliff notes or something. I seem to have been in the middle of every mess we've had so far. Behold! Chaos-magnet!" Though she seems cheerful about it, anyway.

Then she asks, "So come on, tell me; what've you been up to since leaving the wild and wacky environs of Chicago?"

[Riley Poole] The more people Riley talks to, the more the tapestry of events during her absence weaves itself together. Everyone gives her just a little bit more, here and there. It's enough to make her want more, to know more, she yearns for a fuller and more complete understanding. But the need to know is not the same as curiosity. It makes it easier for her to divert that yearning into other pursuits and other avenues on her quest for knowledge.

She knows a little more now about Atlas, and Ashley, and even Chuck than she found out during her first contact with Digital Dingo. And no, Chuck didn't seem the type to be intentionally hurtful, but they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. There was the issue of his buying things for Emily, and of course digging into the girl's personal history without invitation. The big lug might not have meant harm, but Riley's brother from another mother (and father) had a tendency to be impossibly clueless when it came to the feelings of other people.

So she doesn't pry into that hurt, and by not prying unknowingly leaves herself outside of knowing more about her former partner-in-crime's mysterious history. When she sees it she puts her foot on the floor and leans forward to lightly grip Molly's knee in wordless comfort.

She leans back again to hear about the changes to the House, and with it the possible changes for their little community in Chicago. "That's too bad, I liked it. Being in the middle of the uninitiated was a little weird, I guess. And definitely dangerous, so I get the need for change." Then she grins. "You love it, don't lie. If ever there was chaos to get into, you were always smack in the middle of it. Let me know the deets when you get a chance."

She distracts herself with a drink while she settles herself comfortably once more. So far, the only thing she's told people have been the basics, and really when she gets right down to it, the basics are all there is to tell.

"Well, my dad got it into his head that he's getting old," an eye roll. The man was in the best shape of anyone Riley has ever met in her entire life. The idea of him being old enough, at least right now, to slow down in his life is preposterous. "So he wanted to start prepping for retirement. I think he was really just looking for an excuse to live in a place where people's daily wear generally includes string bikinis. I went with him to help him get a new practice set up down there. Would've stayed, too, but he said it'd ruin his game if his twenty-seven year old daughter was living with him. Like that ever stopped him before. So I came back. Plus, I'd just gotten into grad school when we left. I was able to pull some strings," she says, emphasis indicating these strings were likely electronic in nature and ridiculously easy to manipulate for a hacker of her caliber, "to keep my spot. And, I mean. This is home for me. I grew up here. It was weird being somewhere else." Molly may by now have noticed that Riley makes no mention of a particular Euthanatos who'd left the city at the same time, had left with her and her father in fact. For what it's worth, she doesn't seem like she's withholding things relating to Alexander Turnquist. Riley's horrible at lying or hiding her feelings; if something bad had happened to the young man it'd show.

"Right now I'm couchsurfing at Lara's until my realtor finds me a place I actually like."

[Molly Quincannon] "How's Lara doing these days, anyway?" Of course, if there's a question to be asked, Molly will ask it. "I swear, it's like she's dropped off the planet. Anyway, if you're having realtor issues, talk to Nathan. He's got contacts like whoa around here. Or I could talk to a friend of mine at the Trib; she might have some leads to give out, given she works in admin and can probably get to the ads before they hit the general public. Could give you a head start, anyway. As to your dad ... well, more power to him, and I'm sure Chicago missed you as much as you missed her."

She doesn't ask about Alex, more or less the same way Riley doesn't ask about Chuck. Perhaps those conversations need more alcohol, or something. The knee-squeeze gets a smile, though. "And yes, I guess I kind of do love it. I wouldn't still live here if I didn't. Though I guess it's not surprising people think I have a deathwish. Still, no risk, no gain. Oh! And you have to come over sometime. You probably know I'm crashing with Atlas since Fort Q started crawling with Mirrorshades. Henri-spiration seems to linger because I built a 'bot. Not a Dilly, but a Zoing. Semi-humanoid, pretty decent AI. Serves coffee and nags when I forget to eat. And puts out the occasional fire."

[Riley Poole] "Hell if I know," she replies with a sigh. "We keep different schedules I guess. She's heading out when I'm heading in, or vice versa. This guy, Tom, stopped by looking for her, too. I have no idea if they found each other."

There are conversations for more alcohol. For Riley it might take less than that. For all the crazy that happened in Chicago while she was away, her brief stay in Florida was as mundane as it ever would have been, even before her awakening. Her father still doesn't know what she is, and hopefully won't find out for a long time, if ever. It was nice. Even the sad times were nice and normal.

But while there's something to be said for nice and normal, it was the chaos that called her home. Balancing work and school and this other alter-ego, she'd missed it. It keeps her busy, not because she wants to hide from things, but because she needs to be kept occupied. A Riley Poole with idle hands is a Riley Poole ready to destroy the inner workings of someone's carefully constructed internet security system.

"To the victor go the spoils," she says with a grin, lifting the remains of her drink -- ice mostly -- in salute. "I would love to see that," she says. And study it and its schematics and devour every last bit of information I can squeeze out of it say her eyes. "And I'll keep that in mind about Nathan. How's he doing these days, anyway? The last time I really saw him he had a penchant for running into the wilderness after strange and scary noises."

[Molly Quincannon] "Oh, he still does that," Molly says, with a smile that suggests way more than simple fondness. Though it turns rueful when she adds, "though he also seems to have found a very rusty suit of armour somewhere in his closet, metaphorically speaking. I mean, seriously. There was this thing and chaos found us. I would have gone to investigate and help save people? But he was so determined to get me out unscathed that he ... well, pistol-whipped me. Or maybe that should be rifle-whipped. Stockless rifle. Butt of." She taps the back of her head. "Right there. Luckily, I have a hard head. And he has a very warped view of chivalry. But hey. Nothing like an attempted KO to say 'I care', maybe?"

The bit about Zoing gets a broader sort of beam. "And see it you shall. And yes, you can see the schematics and AI code and listen to the poor little bugger squeak 'no disassemble number five' at you. I'm also working on webcams on legs. Like the eye-things toddling around in Mirrormask. Having minor problems with the actual legs bit? They tend to explode. But I'm getting there!" She shrugs. "I have no idea what I'd use them for particularly, but they'd be fun regardless. I have this itch to create things. Comes of having your Avatar bitch-slap you about the nature of the universe until you wise up. Let's just say cooking isn't the only thing I've levelled up. Oh!" She digs around in her laptop bag and brings out Tupperware. "Chocolate caramel pecan cookies, by the way. I bring food everywhere I go these days. Someone's always hungry."

[Riley Poole] Getting clocked as a sign of affection gets a startled look, but really, Riley has no room to condemn or judge. Though not a normal activity for a young dating couple, Riley and Alex sparred on more than one occasion, with a number of those occasions ending with one or the other in a semi-conscious state. Violence as a show of affection, while not something she'd set out to get behind, is something she can understand.

And, well. It's Nathan Molly's talking about. Riley didn't know him very well except that he was nice in a quiet sort of way, and hella awkward. And also, rendering Molly unconscious might just be the best and fastest way to get her out of a dangerous situation, if Riley remembers correctly. As to Nathan's warped sense of chivalry, she can only chuckle and shake her head.

"That would be awesome. If you want some ideas, I could see what I could whip up. There's always the Johnny Quest spider spies, but in miniature. And given what I've heard," she says, dropping a voice already lowered for just the two of them even further, "about our guests in the city, having mobile spies might not be such a bad idea. I think Wren said something about tapping me to help her with something like that, price to be determined later I guess."

The offering of cookies has her smiling, leaning forward to accept. Her cup set down on the floor beside her chair, she just takes a couple before handing the container back. It's funny, she remembers needing to keep food and drink on hand in case of emergency for her diabetic friends. All that's in the past, too. Riley doesn't look back for very long. She pushes forward, onward and upward, encouraged and shoved from time to time by her avatar. The past has shaped her into the woman she is today, but it's not to be dwelled on.

They chatter about less consequential things (Did you see last week's Who? OHMIGAWD!) for a little while longer before one or the other of them gets a call, or an engagement is remembered and zoomed off toward. Riley's contact information has changed if for no other reason than to embrace further change in her life. Molly's info beyond her email address is updated, hugs exchanged, and promises made to hang out again, maybe make a hacking or LAN date. All in all, it was a good time to catch up between geek girls.