Shoshannah Mitchell
It's been a long time for Shoshannah to be this quiet. There've been no outbursts of temper (which is odd enough on its own), no days of incessant questions, no odd moments of PAY ATTENTION TO ME mixed with LEAVE ME ALONE. This version of the girl Pan's opened his home at the rectory to is disconcerting in her compliance. This isn't to say that she's ever been anything but an exemplary worker when put to a task, but there's always something overt that makes the way she's impossible to not notice a little more bearable.
Because when she's quiet like this, it's like Death's sneaking up on one, as opposed to blaring trumpets in announcement of its presence.
There's been no attempt on her part to discuss the afternoon spent with Leah, and the fact that she promptly shuts down any overtures - not hostilely, but definitively - may or may not give hints as to the whys and wherefores of her behavior to one as accustomed to dealing with troubled teens as Padre Echeverría is. Regardless, she's either done with her current chore or taking a break from it, sitting on the stoop and watching as the bustling neighborhood goes by (much of it crossing to the other side of the street or otherwise avoiding her sphere of influence) around her. Dress is simple, neat, clean, and pretty for what it is - a long skirt that likely twirls when she does, a coordinating t-shirt with a contrasting tank over it, arm warmers that cover from the palm of her hand to mid forearm. In other words, it's just another day.
Pan Echeverría
He has made no such attempt to discuss the afternoon spent with Leah. Other than asking her if she was alright when they got back in the truck, the priest had had nothing to say about it.
Since then he has been scarce about the church and most of her tasks have come from Rosa if any have come in at all. He has left no notes for her in the morning and has not come looking for her. When he comes home at night she can hear a brief clomping of heels on the hardwood in the front entryway and then nothing. For the past week Shoshannah has had quite a bit of downtime. It's almost a typical summer break for a girl her age.
Pan comes out of the church this morning and puts on his sunglasses and makes it about ten yards before a pair of older women on their way in stop him and engage him in exuberant conversation for maybe three minutes. Even from the distance she's at Shoshannah can read genuine interest in his posture. He is not bothered by being waylaid and he doesn't look away from them until they bid him a good day and continue inside.
He ambles across the street to the rectory like he's got all day.
"Why the long face?" he asks when he's within earshot.
Sid Rhodes
Life in the unemployment lane tends to be pretty easy, or at least it should be. Sid was told on that first day home, after the warehouse, after everything, that she should enjoy this time off. Think of it like a vacation, her roommate keeps telling her whenever it starts to become obvious she's fretting about her half of the rent or the utilities or the groceries or whatever.
She can't, though. Can't relax, can't sit still. The mystery of the cameras has yet to be solved, not that she can do that. All she can do is look for more of them, and try not to congregate with the others or otherwise draw attention to herself. She's done her level best to avoid the other Magi she's met so far, not that it's done her any good. New ones keep cropping up out of thin air. It's almost like some mysterious NPC keeps trying to tell her It's dangerous to go alone, take this! Only instead of a sword or some other object, it's people. People to watch out for and to watch out for her in turn.
Already she's swept her neighborhood. Now it's time to try the delicate (and impossible) dance of scanning areas she knows or thinks she knows are frequented by people she sort of almost maybe kind of wants to think of a little friend-ish. Vaguely she recalls that one man, the padre from the bar and from the coffee shop, saying he could be found at a church in this area. Good Samaritan? Good...Good Shepherd, that's right. On Florida, which wasn't terribly helpful, at least not for someone who doesn't have easy access to Google Maps. Maybe she'll be able to do this without getting spotted by one of the others. That's what she hopes, anyway, but what are Sid's hopes but temporary, flimsy things to be dashed against the rocks?
It's likely she's sensed before she's seen; she's been Working lately, stretching out her awareness of the waves that travel over the air. She's seen eventually, walking along the sidewalk as she does, bag bouncing against her hip, her hands shoved into the pockets of jeans that have seen better days. She's taken to wearing a hat these days, a drab olive green one of the cabbie variety. It's not the best of disguises, but all she really hopes to do, that one hope above all others, is to not be recognized by watchers from above.
Up ahead of her, sitting on a stoop and watching for people just like Sid, people walking along seemingly minding their own business, is that girl. Shoshannah, the Dreamspeaker with the angry presence. Suddenly hesitant, Sid's steps slow, but don't stop.
Sid Rhodes
[woo it stopped refreshing, imagine there's some mention of seeing Pan around, too, I bet he's hard to miss]
Shoshannah Mitchell
There's a shrug, absent, as she squishes an ant that's found its way onto her arm; normally she'd let it be, but having something to focus on (to distract her from loud thoughts) is often a good thing. "Just sitting around," is all she says, though that isn't really an answer. She's always moody, Shoshannah is, but usually it's a quick flare of anger that dissipates quickly into the general sullenness that seems to be her default state of being. This, though, is different.
And there's Sid, so Shoshannah's fingers, though they don't move from where they rest on knees that are pulled to Shoshannah's chest, wiggle in the Orphan's direction when she's most likely to see the not-quite-tentative greeting.
"......................I like you better than I do Rosa." Obviously she knows he's busy and certainly doesn't fault him for it; this isn't a request for anything, just a grudging statement of fact. It's also the closest she's come to admitting to liking anyone in a long time, though she doesn't share that part.
Pan Echeverría
Though she makes no sound and even slows her pace, Sid does not escape notice. It isn't the wiggling of the Dreamspeaker's fingers that catches his attention but the tendrils of the Orphan's magick. He snorts at the admission and then turns to see where exactly Sid is standing.
The neighborhood around the church is filled with older cars and fenced-in yards. The church itself is a single-story building flanked by a nursery school. A sign out front proclaims it to be La Iglesia del Buen Pastor. Aside from the sign and the cross beside it, the building looks more like a recreation center than a religious edifice. Small children shriek and laugh on the playground behind it and a young woman calls to one of them in Spanish. A dog barks on another block and someone is blaring reggaeton in their car as they wait at the curb.
Once the priest catches sight of her he takes a hand off his hip to wave. Whether she comes closer or lingers back a moment he looks back to Shoshannah.
"What's the matter," he asks, "you and Rosa fighting?"
Sid Rhodes
Truth is, Sid's not too sure she should approach. It's not Pan, it's not even the two of them together, having a conversation that she might accidentally intrude upon.
It's Shoshannah. They've only met a few times, and those times have been what they've been, but it's hard for her to get a read on the girl. She's stood up for Sid, told people leave her alone, even made sure a bartender got her a soda. And she tried, in her own way, to make sure that Sid wasn't being bothered by a strange man on a bench. But she's always got that fuck-off attitude. She's not sure if Shoshannah will say hello or flip her the bird and tell her to go away.
Neither and both would be surprising.
She gets a wave, though, if a small one. A wiggle of fingers in Sid's direction. Sid looks like she might panic and flee at that, but then, what else is new. Her head snaps in the direction of the waiting car. It's not even close, but still, she takes a step to the side, increasing the distance between her and it.
When she looks back her chin is down, and while she gives them brief looks, her eyes move to the sides, her head turning just slightly as she scans the area constantly.. It's the padre who waves to her this time. That's two, perhaps she should go over and say hello, at least.
Coming a little closer to the duo, her hands still stuffed protectively in her pockets, she waits a beat to make sure she's not interrupting and then says, "Ah, hi. How...are you?" This to both of them but mostly to Shoshannah, who may or may not be fighting with someone named Rosa.
Shoshannah Mitchell
There's scoffing at the question, and a dismissive shake of her head. "She only talks to me to tell me what to do, or when she needs something." Which, to be fair, is more than most people do - still, for Shoshannah it might actually be easier if the older womanwere fighting. (In truth, no one fights Shoshannah, or has in as long as she can remember. People tend to give her what she wants and then get the fuck away as quickly as is humanly possible. And the spirits that whisper to her always? Well, they don't count (or count more - it's hard to tell).
Sid looks like a frightened deer when she's waved at, and the younger girl isn't as good at handling that as she usually [pretends] is. It brings a stiffness to her posture, and yes - there it is, that fuck-off attitude. The Dreamspeaker is very little if not a fighter, a survivor. She is, in fact, the personification of a Christina Aguilera song. Or Kelly Clarkson. Or both.
"I'm alright," comes directed at Sid, in answer. The truth of this is difficult to discern, given that Shoshannah always seems at least mildly pissed off, but there it is. "You okay? I haven't seen you around here before." Not that this is an indicator of anything much; she keeps busy when at all possible, and tends to stay where it's harder to notice how much people don't want to be around her, unless the spirit of adventuresome wandering takes her (as it does fairly often).
Sid Rhodes
[wait, are you mad?? awareness-as-empathy on Shoshannah]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 5, 6, 9, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 5 ) Re-rolls: 2
Pan Echeverría
The stoop upon which Shoshannah is perched is attached to a two-story house across the street from the church. Built in the Spanish colonial style, nothing marks it as a rectory aside from its proximity and the fact that the priest is standing in front of it, and even those aren't huge tells because the church doesn't look like a church and the priest is wearing black jeans and cowboy boots and aviator shades, chewing gum.
Something about Shoshannah's question strikes him as funny but he manages not to laugh.
"You keep this up, Jorge's gonna be out of a job."
He thinks he's being funny. Jorge is the security guard who shows up for the evening services to make sure nobody gets jumped going back to their car after sundown. Funny or not, it's an aside. He turns to Sid to await her answer, like the only reason she would be in this neighborhood is if she needed help.
Sid Rhodes
Shoshannah sits there looking angry, wears that attitude like a suit of armor. That armor could me made out of tissue paper for all the good it does her against the paranoid (are you mad? is it me?) Orphan. Perhaps it would surprise the girl to know just how flimsy her walls appear to the older, maybe wiser, maybe more experienced woman.
Well, that woman was a teenaged girl herself once. And current appearances aside, it's entirely possible the shy, timid, terrified-of-everything wallflower wasn't much different than Shoshannah.
Whatever she sees when she looks at the young woman, she keeps it to herself. Out here by this house, in front of her caretaker or whatever Pan is to her, it's not the place to crack open a teenager's mind and start poking at the feelings inside. Some of Sid's own uncertainty sort of almost starts to leak away from her, though, when she looks down at Shoshannah. A look of quiet understanding starts to take the place of that usual timidity.
But then Shoshannah asks her if she's okay, and that understanding gets snapped away in an eyeblink. Sid doesn't look like she's ready to bolt for the mountains, but she does look flustered because she...honestly? She has no idea how to answer that.
"Uh," she says, because she's waiting for an answer. Then Pan's looking at her, too, all expectantly, and it's almost too many pairs of eyes for her to handle on her all at once. "Ye- well, no, but. It's not a, it's not a big deal. Me, I mean. My stuff," she stammers as she tries to make it clear. No, she's not okay, but no, that part's not a big deal. "I was...I'm looking for things."
Shoshannah Mitchell
Pan is Pan . . . or Padre as Shoshannah calls him most often, despite her lack of belief in anything remotely resembling the Catholic faith (I used to be Jewish . . .) or Christianity as a whole. Not a caretaker though he takes care of her, not father, not . . . well, it's rare for Shoshannah to apply definition to much of anything, and it's quite possible that she couldn't to this even if she were inclined to do so. She's never had a living, breathing friend, after all.
That Sid is looking for things raises a curious eyebrow on Shoshannah's pretty (as the devil) face and sets the girl's feet tapping; she's a wanderer, a nomad, and has kept well to her promise to sleep at the rectory but has, since the days of not being kept busy around the neighborhood began, pushed the boundaries of the little world she's found herself in wider. She's seen more of the city and some of its closer suburbs, has hit some of the obvious tourist spots and enjoyed some lesser known gems. This? Maybe if she can help it'll distract her from what's bugging her.
"What're you looking for?"
Pan Echeverría
When Sid starts to stammer--when she starts to speak--Pan takes his gaze away and plants it on the sidewalk between their feet. Nothing interesting lies there. The concrete is new and white and no grass has pushed its way up through the seams, nothing organic has smashed beneath a tread yet.
He listens but he doesn't look directly at her and he lets Shoshannah fire the questions for now. It's an admirable yet inadequate imitation of a tree. Trees don't usually scare the shit out of people.
Sid Rhodes
There was a time when Sid could handle being the center of attention, but that was a lifetime ago. Nowadays she does best one on one. Talking to two others is hard, three is borderline impossible. More than that? Forget it, Sid may as well be a fly on the wall. That she could squeak a word out to anyone in that Hole in the Wall when the magi congregated by the bar is a damn miracle.
That said, it's not fear that makes her stammer, it's a deep seated discomfort with being asked about herself. This other thing, though, it's not so difficult. And the fact that it's, you know, somewhat important to everyone's safety (maybe, she might never know for sure) makes it even easier to talk about.
"Cameras," she says. "There was a, um, there was this warehouse. Downtown?" The word ends on a query aimed at the man staring at the pavement. Sera seemed to know him at the bar, so maybe he already knows about that. "It had these cameras up, watching it. They can't...I can't see them I can only feel them. The electromagnetic waves." Finally a hand leaves a pocket to sort of weakly gesture in the air around her before returning to its denim hiding place. "I want to make sure they're not around...people." She shrugs her shoulder, the gesture awkward because she herself is awkward. Talking, it's not really Sid's thing.
People, though, with emphasis. She doesn't mean the sleepers. She means them.
Shoshannah Mitchell
"Cameras?" This gets a second eyebrow joining the first - cloaked cameras, no less. She may not have the same ingrained fear, anger or hatred towards the Technocracy that so many Awakened do, but there are certain things that will raise even her hackles a bit. Cloaked cameras, it would appear, are among them. "And you only found them near that warehouse downtown?"
It's a matter of concern to her as well; no one likes being spied on.
Sid Rhodes
Cameras? Sid gives a little nod of her head.
And you only found them near that warehouse downtown? Lips pursed, she gives a little shake of her head. If it weren't for the hat disguising her brow they could see the shadow that darkens her forehead. It's there in her eyes, though: worry, of a less generic and all encompassing sort than usual.
"Mostly they're in busy places," she says (which is all the info I have on their location until Howl gets a chance to update me, hence the vagueness). "I'm not sure if they're connected, but I've been making a list."
Pan Echeverría
At the emphasis on people Pan reaches up and takes his sunglasses off his face. Clears his throat to indicate he's going to speak at some point but lets Shoshannah finish. He folds one earpiece and tucks the other into the V of his work shirt. In the daylight his eyes are green. This doesn't mean anything.
"Annie was afraid they would be stepping up their surveillance with everything going on." They, practically capitalized by his tone. The Techs. "They're probably looking for the rest of the Fallen, but--"
The War ended a long time ago. Shoshannah wasn't even a blip on their radar then and even now so many younger Awakened don't consider them to be any more of a threat than the average Sleeper considers the military or the local police. They may be right but tolerance tends to precede proliferation.
"You're just making a list, yeah? Not touching them or nothing?"
Sid Rhodes
[green eyes mean everything, haven't you seen Big Trouble in Little China??]
Shoshannah Mitchell
"I might be able to help look. Not the same way, but . . ." there's a shrug that says much and little. They each have their own talents, and even people who share Traditions, factions or sects don't necessarily see things the same way.
Shoshannah's eyes, unprotected, are a crystalline, clear blue of the sort that cuts and freezes through no effort of her own; with focused attention they become uncomfortable, piercing, even when it's not her intent. Now, unfortunately, the brunt of that focused attention lies on Sid . . . but then, the Orphan has an understanding that Shoshannah doesn't know she holds. (Or maybe she's in denial. She's given no indication that the initial look was noticed, let alone interpreted properly, so who knows?)
"Depending on how they work, I might also be able to tamper with them. Without touching them," is an afterthought, reassurance. She wasn't even a blip on the radar for the War (in fact, she wasn't even born yet), but she knows enough to not want the police or military or whatever the Techs are equivalent to in her mind examining her too closely.
Pan Echeverría
[... I actually haven't. *holds still for smiting*]
Sid Rhodes
Pan moves, and Sid angles her head just a touch, the better to view the both of them at once. They he says, and she frowns. Though neither terribly young nor terribly old by anyone's standards, the Orphan would be counted among the younger magi, the ones who Awakened after the War ended. She may only know a scratch of the surface of their world, but she knows who he's talking about. As she'd told Sera, she tries to stay out of the way.
Of everyone, but that hasn't been going so well for her in this last month, with Awakened crawling out of the woodwork, gathering. It's dangerous, but what can she do? She all but promised someone she'd watch their back, might as well keep everyone else in the loop.
She starts to nod when Pan asks about her list, but redirects the motion to a firm shake immediately when he makes sure she's not touching them. Sid may be inquisitive (beneath all that paranoia and timidity), but she's not crazy. She makes sure she's safe, or as safe as she can possibly be without locking herself into a windowless room.
Her eyes widen when Shoshannah offers up some assistance with Sid's search. How to respond to that. Shoshannah is not a child (well she is, but she also isn't) to be coddled and told to go to bed at curfew and stay out from underfoot. But she looked out for Sid, and Sid looks out for her, that's how it works now. She's not about to say Yes, kid, let's wander the streets of Denver, we'll be the Awakened Neighborhood Watch, and Army of Two.
"Ah," she says, looking from Shoshannah to Pan, not entirely sure which of the two has the final say in that. Pan, obviously, looks out for the Dreamspeaker, too.
Pan Echeverría
The priest looks between the Dreamspeaker and the Orphan. They're both grown women, well within their rights as adults to exercise their own autonomy, and he barely even knows how to use a cellphone. He still wears a pager. It's like he doesn't know what decade they're in.
They're both grown women, and Shoshannah has a complex enough as it is. As he looks at her he can practically hear her arguing her own case. If they're spying on the Fallen then they could be spying on us two what are we supposed to do just ignore it god Padre you never let me do anything.
Something causes him to sigh. Pan glances skyward, silently appealing to the One for guidance, then says, "If I walk away now, I don't gotta lie if someone asks if I stood here while you two were talking about tampering with Tech cameras later."
Whereupon he steps back and waits for the reggaeton-blaring car to rattle down the street before crossing it himself.
Shoshannah Mitchell
"Well, I'm not going to mess with them if I can't without leaving a calling card." The duh and I'm not stupid are strongly implied, though even with that it's reasonably clear to Sid that Shoshannah holds the priest in higher esteem than she does most people she's interacted with here. On the girl's side, at least, there's a bond there; maybe it's that he's a father figure, or that he's taken her in, or even just that he can tolerate her proximity with apparent, relative ease.
He plays his part well. So does she.
"Anyway, at least I can help you look. We can split up if you want, with me covering some places and you others, or we can go together. I don't care." She does, but she's known for a long time to leave options open. There's a reason that Padre's tolerance struck such a cord with her that she follows his rules, after all.
Pan Echeverría
Once the car has blasted off through the intersection the street is clear and he addresses the Dreamspeaker half over his shoulder as he completes the short journey back to the church.
"Okay," he says in the tone of a man who isn't listening. "Bye bye!"
The man can't lie to save his life. It isn't plausible deniability in the event of their capture he's looking for, or the desire to remain clear of the Technocracy, or having better things to do with his time than get involved. He's looking to avoid a battle of wits and reason with a teenager. Maybe he wants to let her do something that she took upon herself without micromanaging or telling her she's too young, she's too weak, she doesn't know what she's doing, la la la.
We'll have to find out later. His player has to bail.
[Thanks for the scene guys but I'm being dragged to a preview garage sale at a church? I don't know what that is? I'll catch y'all later!]
Sid Rhodes
"Ah, no," she starts, startled by the notion she would do anything that might endanger her or, well, any of them. But there's Shoshannah, bantering back at the man as only a willful teen can. Sid watches the man go, not stopping him. Sid is not a stopper of people when those people want to make themselves scarce, or even when they don't and do anyway.
Which leaves her alone with Shoshannah now. Alone with the younger girl she very imperceptibly relaxes. It's the sort of thing that can be felt rather than seen. The Dreamspeaker may unnerve and unsettle most, but for a woman who walks through life two hundred percent unnerved and unsettled all of the time, well. It's hard for her to be more unnerved than she is at her baseline, which she's not even at in this moment.
It's immediately apparent that the idea of them splitting up to this search is so far from on the table it's in someone else's house. Sid looks at Shoshannah, and even with a hat and her glasses to obscure her face, the girl can practically feel the furrowing of her brow.
"No. No splitting up." Never mind that she's been doing this search on her own for weeks already. Maybe she noticed that about the girl, that she does care whether they go as a team or part ways to cover more ground. Maybe she just wants to make this girl she understands in a way others might not is protected.
[thanks for the play, Jamie! have fun looking at things that might not be for sale yet?]
Pan Echeverría
["You should get out more," they said. "It'll be fun," they said. Grump.]
Shoshannah Mitchell
"Whatever," Shoshannah says with a shrug, and stands to let her skirt fall around her ankles, to reach up and stretch (this bares a pale sliver of thin belly for an instant, and it causes quite the distraction for the few people brave enough to look her way - of either gender - because the girl really is as attractive as sin though she doesn't act as if she knows it) before bouncing down off the stoop with an unexpected lightness. "Should I get my bike?"
Which is to say, she's inviting herself along now, for whatever, however long. It's difficult to tell with Shoshannah.
Sid Rhodes
Sid does not cause that kind of distraction in anyone. For one thing she's not that pretty, not next to a girl like Shoshannah. She also doesn't try. In fact she tries very hard to be the opposite. She tries to go unnoticed. But there's only so much baggy, threadbare clothing, a hat, and a slouch can hide.
Her frown this time is thoughtful, not terrified. She's relaxing, bit by bit. That Whatever barely even registered on her spectrum of expression - because she knows better now.
"Yyyyyes," she drawls as she makes up her mind at last. Sid doesn't have one, and her truck is parked a block over, but it might be a good idea for Shoshannah to have a getaway vehicle. A bike would be better than nothing.
Shoshannah Mitchell
Shoshannah isn't pretty, per se; the word is to fragile, to earth-bound. Shoshannah doesn't look like she's of this plane(t), this life, at all. It's an alien, frightening sort of beauty that she holds, and it mixes with the rest of her aura to concoct something terrifying, indeed. But there's not long to contemplate this while she wanders off to get her bike and return with it, to walk it alongside Sid.
"Like I said, I can't see what you can - but if you point me in the right direction, I can check for lots of other things. And maybe some of my friends can do things for us." With the right tribute, of course - for a price. Nothing comes for free. "We can canvas this neighborhood, at least. Sound good?"
And for awhile, at least, Shoshannah has (relatively) easy companionship that isn't Padre. It's a far better day than she expected.
Shoshannah Mitchell
[That's a wrap!]
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