A Firm Hand

Elijah
[Nightmares?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (2, 4, 4, 5) ( fail )

Elijah
He could come by Eleanor's office, or he could come by Eleanor's house, but one way or another today Elijah was going to see Eleanor.

So, he decided that he would see Eleanor at her house, given that the place was cozy enough and he'd had a chance to read ginger so slowly but surely the young man was starting to realize what a storm he had provoked. It wasn't what he was thinking about at that juncture. Elijah thought a lot. He thought a lot about various things and very rarely was he thinking about what he was doing, and there had been the assurance that someone would teach him to think before acting, there was now the sudden question as to whether or not Elijah would survive himself long enough to do so.

He had a backpack over his shoulder, and his motorcycle was parked out front.

He wasn't thinking about the disaster that was to come, or the technocracy at that juncture. no, the tired young man was instead focused more on the composition of the door and how it felt underneath his hand when he knocked. She was expecting him.

Eleanor
[Despair]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )

Eleanor
Eleanor went to work. She taught. She came home. And she is sitting there on her front porch, with its narrow doors that open to either side of an indoor-outdoor fireplace into the living room. Those doors are closed. The fireplace is not lit. Eleanor sits, and Eleanor drinks a glass of red wine. Slowly.

So she sees Elijah when he comes down the block on his motorcycle. She sees him as he turns it off, kicks down the stand, takes off his helmet, and starts heading up the walk. She watches him, on her darkened porch, as he climbs up the steps. And then she meets his eyes, and gestures at one of the other chairs. Wicker armchairs, cushioned.

Elijah
He put down his helmet. He put down his bag. He took a seat in one of the arm chairs and there wasn't a way to make it feel comfortable or feel anything other than restrictive and like the last place he wanted to be, but there was an acceptance in this. A finality in movement, because he knows what he's expecting. He knows what's coming next, or at least he thought he knew what was coming next.

"What was I thinking?" he asked, because that's the question everyone has asked. That was the response everyone was looking for. "Where do you want me to start?"

Eleanor
Eleanor doesn't say anything. Doesn't interrupt him to tell him not to try and guess what she's going to say, doesn't tell him to shut up. She watches him, and sips her wine. She has those stemless wine glasses. This one is a wide-bottomed bowl of a glass, holding a deep red. It's a Malbec. The bottle is open on the table.

After a few seconds of silence after Elijah jumps in, Eleanor says: "I don't carewhat you were thinking, Elijah."

--

She looks at him, setting her glass down on the arm of her chair, holding it with her fingertips. "I think it's well past time for you to have a proper mentor."

Richard
More days than not, Richard is at Eleanor's house. Usually after class; sometimes for dinner. Sometimes for the night, showering and sleeping in her guest room. Tonight, he's in the kitchen, cooking -- the faint aroma of cilantro and cumin drifting through the window.

Elijah arrives. Through the kitchen window, Richard glances out; nods to the other. Returns to cooking.

Elijah
She doesn't care what he was thinking, something about the tone of that made his stomach tense and made his lunch decide that, perhaps, it may need to consider an upheaval should the anxiety not decrease for a time. He took a moment, inhaled because breathing was centering and he needed, at that juncture, to be centered more than he needed anything. His hands found a perch on his knees and his posture stayed straight.

"What about Kalen?" he asked cautiously.

Eleanor
Eleanor lifts an eyebrow. "What about Kalen?" There's a beat of a pause. Her brow lowers. Deepens. And something radiates off of her then, but he has never seen her angry. He had no idea anger could be like this: all the water still moving under a frozen surface, the water that will sweep you away from the place where the ice cracked, the place where you fell, the one place you might be able to climb out of again.

She says nothing for a little while. "This is the first I've heard -- from you or anyone -- about Kalen being your 'mentor'," Eleanor tells him, levelly. "Could you explain to me what exactly he's been teaching you, if not the Law of Shade or the nature of enemies or the responsibility you now wield? Twice now some major misstep of yours has come out on Ginger, with no comment from him. No word of taking responsibility for dealing with you."

Her nostrils flare; she exhales, then takes a sip of wine. "As I said: it's time for you to have a proper mentor."

Elijah
He had no idea anger could be like this, but he knew what that feeling was like. He knew the kind of panic it induced and how desperately he wanted to back pedal because the world was feeling small and cold and pinpoint precise and he breathed because he had to be centered and he had to keep his thoughts together, no matter how nervous he might be.

This was not the time to panic. This was not the time to have any kind of mental cracks. No, this was the time to be present, and at that juncture, Elijah Poirot was present. If there had been a lesson on the Law of Shade or anything of the sort, Elijah might not have been terribly present that day.

"He did teach me about the Law of Shade," he replied, "I thought I was being careful- there's a lot more context to that second post on ginger than it looks like, I swear I wasn't just poking around the internet googling Nephandi, and I thought-" he stops himself, realizing he was making excuses, "I've been a bad student. He taught me about the traditions, the spheres, paradox, some things about the technocracy or the nephandi or marauders and that I have to be responsible with magic."

Eleanor
"All right, Elijah," Eleanor says. "Give me the context, then. Not your reasons, your justifications, or your good intentions." Her fingernail taps her wineglass. Her eyes focus on Elijah's, if he'll meet her gaze. "Give me the context that restores for me, my apprentice, and the other Awakened of Denver the trust we need to have in you to permit you to continue on as you are."

She inhales; from the kitchen she can smell whatever Richard is cooking. He's a deft hand these days with an eggplant or a few portobello mushrooms. It's all in the seasoning. And the smell of it reminds her, achingly, of something else. Eleanor closes her eyes for a moment. She permits herself to release some of her anger. She is very still in her chair, breathing out slowly, and the hand of her soul opens slowly to allow something else to bloom in her palm. She sees a lotus flower, shining and transparent, rose and gold in color, and the subtle dance of pollen on an invisible breeze.

When she opens her eyes, there is less of that cold fury.

"Elijah," she says, and her voice is grounding now, still, the voice he knows. "If Kalen is your mentor, I am... well, frankly I'm stunned. He's never spoken up for you or about you on Ginger, even when you've been the center of the discussion. I don't know him well, or what he has to teach you, or why you would gravitate towards him, but whether or not you are a bad student, these mistakes you're making should not be happening with appropriate teaching. Whatever else can be said in Kalen's favor, your recent behavior speaks very poorly of him as a mentor.

Her brow furrows in a frown, but it's less tight, less strained, than before. "What happened with that 'wyte nyte' never should have happened, regardless of 'context'. If you have questions, you apparently already have a mentor to go to. Moreover, you have others: Richard, myself, the Cultist Disciple," she cannot remember Sera's name, having never met her. "You have plenty of people, who you have reason to trust, to go to with questions and when seeking help. My problem, more than whatever your mentor is teaching you or whether you should be permitted to stay with that mentor, is that you disregard all this. You're not a fool, but you keep making the choices of a myopic twit. That's what they are, Elijah: they're not good intentions gone awry. They're choices."

A flicker, then, in her teeth, of that anger. "Stupid, stupid choices that erode your trustworthiness and put the lives and sanity of other Awakened at risk. I cannot allow you to continue making those choices, no matter how well-meaning you are or what mistakes your mentor has made -- or what mistakes you have made under his tutelage. Do you understand?"

Elijah
[waitaminute, is Eleanor going to literally kill me? awarepathy]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 5 )

Eleanor
[wtf dude she is not threatening to kill you.

right now.

but she is super frustrated.

not that she would kill him out of frustration.

on the list of 'things to do to keep elijah from getting us all killed', murdering him is several pages away.]

Elijah
He does meet her eyes, because he wants to. Because he has to. Because he has to weather the full force of this and be accountable for his deeds because heknows about accountability. He knows that if his choices lack wisdom, he should stand for them and stand by them. that he could accept that there are consequences. "I... don't think the context really matters. I wouldn't trust me at this point, I've done some pretty shitty stuff and my choices have been pretty short-sighted. Nobody forced my hand."

He stopped, having realized that this was a conversation that did not need to be steered toward self-admonishment or self pity. This needed to have purpose, needed to have reason- he'd found something, something he hadn't expected to care as much about as he did. His hands stayed on his knees and his posture wasn't unlike that of someone either being admitted to rehab or meeting their parole officer for the first time.

"What do I need to do to give people a reason to trust me again?"

Richard
Inside: the sizzling of food on the fire dims. A pan scrapes and thuds; plates clunking softly down. Utensils.

Not too long after, Richard appears on the porch. He has a tray in hand. Three bowls: rice, corn salsa, guacamole on top. Beef in two bowls; roasted eggplant and green bell peppers in the other. It's a tense moment outside. An awkward one for him to intrude on -- but there's no awkwardness in the way he leans his shoulder to the doorjamb, tray balanced on his broad palm.

He waits; he listens.

Eleanor
Elijah catches himself quickly: it's one thing to enter the discussion verbally ripping himself a new one before she can get there. It's a common tactic. But Eleanor's patience is so thin right now, today of all days, and she is trying so hard not to give the reins of her soul to the darker parts of her mind. Because of Richard in the kitchen. Because Elijah is an apprentice. Because Henrik is dead. Because of Alicia's father. Because the world is full of so much pain, and she does try not to add to it.

As best she can.

Richard is coming nearer. He has a tray full of food for them: burrito bowls. Eleanor is regarding Elijah calmly, and then she looks up at Richard standing in one of those narrow doors. She gives him a faint smile, nods him outside. Reaches to move a wine bottle on the table to make room for the tray, glad there's a third and fourth chair out on the patio. For Eleanor, at least, it doesn't need to be awkward: something about Richard being there is grounding for her.

"I don't know, Elijah," she says, sighing the words. "That's going to be different for everyone." She gestures; he should fill a plate. They should eat together.

For they are not enemies.

"For me, the first step will be a promise to seek advice and information from the many, many Awakened you know face to face before you go elsewhere. But I would be more comfortable if I took over your apprenticeship."

Elijah
She would be more comfortable if she took over his apprenticeship.

He has to think about this. The moment was quiet, and he mused over it. He didn't feel forced, of all things, it was something that he had to think about because these sorts of things did not happen without thinking and, finally, it would seem that Elijah was learning to at least think before sauntering off to big life changes. They weren't enemies, and there were burritos.

He smiled, something small but pleased that there was food there and that there were people. Because he could still be pleased with little things, because they were not so small. Though, there was the matter of Kalen, the matter of telling him that he might have to change mentors and the young man inhaled slow and deep and he took a moment.

Elijah sighed, "I'll tell Kalen ASAP."

Eleanor
Eleanor is not smiling. There are burritos, and she has that ready -- if weary, if sometimes thin -- fondness for her apprentice when he appears bearing food for carnivores and herbivores alike. Elijah sighs and says he'll tell Kalen, and Eleanor looks at him as she is spooning rice into her bowl.

"Is that what you want?"

Elijah
"I want you to trust me," he replies, "but I'm worried that I'm not the kind of responsible that you need to be able to do what you and Richard do."

Eleanor
Eleanor pauses for a moment, midway between eggplant-and-mushroom and bowl of rice. She looks at the food: the tiny granules that are a staple of diets the world over. Then she looks at Elijah. "I don't promise my trust along with managing your education," she says quietly, after a moment. "I do not trust your judgement, Elijah, and you want me to, it will take more than a single choice.

As she is finishing her spooning before passing the rice along to someone else, she sighs. "But I can tell you that as far as I know, there is no law that you must adopt the Tradition of your mentor. I have considered the possibility of your path following the Wheel. But it's not a requirement. Did you really intend to join the Order of Hermes, with Kalen?"

Elijah
"At first, I did," he said, "a lot of the things Kalen believes make sense but the more Hermetics I meet the less it makes sense."

He replies without thinking too hard bout it, because it wasn't really a hard question to answer. There were things he'd loved about studying with Kalen. things he'd loved about the process and some very important concepts that meant the world to him, but... but at the end of the day, Elijah Poirot was as much a Hermetic as he was a pine tree. Maybe in some abstract way, but... not precisely.

Eleanor
It is not surprising, but Eleanor listens. She pours wine for herself, for Richard and Elijah if they want it. She makes herself a burrito bowl, vegetarian -- as you do. "Will you jump ship with me so easily, I wonder," she muses.

Elijah
"I'm not sure if my interest in the Order came from charisma or convictions, but I do know that this isn't something I can dive into lightly. It's supposed to be about finding why makes sense to you and then if somewhere fits you then that's fantastic. I don't know if I'm comfortable changing mentors, but I know that something has to change because whatever I've been doing hasn't been working. I don't want to be a lost cause."

he takes a glass of wine, yes, but almost forgets that it is there. It is, arguably, the most grounded he's been in weeks. He's tired. Weary but not wary, because they are not enemies here.

Richard
While they speak, Richard fixes himself a burrito-bowl. It's not vegetarian; but then, Eleanor has perhaps come to expect this of him. He's respectful of her culinary habits, and she of his. When they cook, they always have a vegetarian option -- meat on the side for those who want it.

For the most part, he listens. Here, however, he does add: "For what it may be worth, I was first introduced to the Spheres by a Chorister. For a while, I thought I might be a Hermetic. But the fit never quite felt right. Not until I met Eleanor. Some might argue that I'm the farthest thing from a stereotypical Euthanatos -- but what matters in the end is how you feel. What feels right, and what feels ... off."

Eleanor
The truth of the matter is -- and it is a hard truth, and a serious matter -- the last thing Elijah will know, if he becomes a lost cause, is Eleanor's face. She will be there, whether he is her apprentice or not. And the last thing he will hear, before she lets him go, is that he is not truly lost.

He gets to start over.

There is always hope.

--

They are a long way from that. They are sitting on her porch on a comfortably cool evening, drinking wine and eating burrito bowls that her first apprentice made for them. He is different than she is: he eats meat, yet he does not take life except in the utmost extreme circumstances. She is a vegetarian, and some of the Awakened in this city know her only as the person who was there, feet braced and firearm raised, when dark things came from the shadows to devour them. Truthfully, of the Awakened in this city, Richard and now Elijah know her the best.

Richard knows everyone, is friends with just about anyone. But once a year, it seems, Eleanor adds a new person to her circle. Maybe not even that often.

She snorts, faintly, at the mention of a 'stereotypical' Euthanatos. "If we all followed the stereotype we'd wear nothing but black and look like zombies who are itching to kill something every few hours," she mutters, disdainful of the idea some have of her tradition.

She takes a bite, and it is enjoyable, and she gives Richard a smile as though to say: well done. His eggplants are no longer mushy, but slightly carmelized. She finds a vague thought, sudden and out of nowhere, about finding him a wife. It's such an archaic thought that she dismisses it, amused at herself for thinking it, deciding not to wonder where it came from.

"Elijah, in the end, a mentor is one who takes responsibility for you while you are learning. While you are prone to making mistakes. It should not be something taken on lightly, and I don't take it on lightly. But it is also not a marriage. Had Richard chosen, at some point, to walk a path divergent from that of the Euthanatoi, I would have done my best to find him a more appropriate teacher. That's part of my responsibility to him."

Eleanor sits back, regarding him. "Kalen is not an appropriate teacher for you. From what I know of you, I think a Disciple of either the Thanatoic or Ecstatic path would be best suited to your temperament. From what I know of Serafine and what I have seen of you so far, I believe that right now, I would be the best choice for the time being. Over time, that may change. And if it does, it will be no ill will between you and I. But right now... I think you need a firmer hand. Moreover, I trust Richard to be there for you as well. It is not a singular offer, me to you. For I come with Richard. Richard comes with me."

Richard
Brains, Richard wants to say. But the moment is not right, and the mood is all wrong, and --

he smiles, faint and a little quirky, as Eleanor says they are a package deal. Strange pair, the two of them; one stoic and subdued, the other extroverted, warm, laughter-loving.

Perfect pair, the two of them. Chiaroscuro, like day and night, sun and moon.

Elijah
She trusts Richard to be there for him, because they're a package deal- Eleanor and Richard. Where there was one, there was usually the other in some capacity. Richard was a solid guy, a gregarious sort and the kind of guy you knew would have your back. Someone needed to take responsibility for him, and now he had questions. Now, now he was curious.

"How firm is firm? I'm not... going to be stuck somewhere, am I? This would just be like a normal apprenticeship, I keep my apartment and my job and I don't go become a magical hermit for a year or something?" he asks completely seriously, completely earnestly.

Eleanor
Eleanor glances at Elijah for his questions, then at Richard. She gives him a nod, a sort of nonverbal go. tell him what it is is like.

Richard
"When I was an apprentice," Richard begins, and then stops -- laughs under his breath at himself, because, "well; I'm still an apprentice. But when I was a beginning apprentice, I saw Eleanor maybe once a week, maybe twice. We'd talk. Just talk. About our ideas, about the world, about the laws of the Wheel. Sometimes we'd meditate together. Sometimes we'd play Wii.

"As I became more sure of my path, I came by more often. We worked magic together sometimes. She taught me. I explored. I read books she'd bring me, and then I'd ask her for more. And then sometimes we'd play Wii and meditate and cook, and sometimes it'd get so late that I'd spend the night in the guest room.

"Somewhere along the way, it felt right that I should undergo my initiation ritual -- my Agama Te. Somewhere along the way, I felt ready. And so I did.

"After that, I took some time off. I traveled the world. I visited other temples, other teachers, other Masters. When I felt ready, I came back. I come over most nights of the week. I sleep over quite a bit. We still talk. We still cook together and play together. We still meditate together. Sometimes," a small grin, because Elijah will know what this entails, "we jog together.

"We ... share our lives, and our thoughts, and our understanding of the world. We choose to. I chose to learn from her, and I chose to undergo my Agama Te, and I chose to become a Euthanatos. She chose to take me on as an apprentice, and she chose to lead me through my initiation, and she chose -- chooses -- to enjoy my presence as I enjoy hers.

"There's nothing forced about it, Elijah. I know this one-two sell seems cult-ish," Richard smiles, "but we're not a cult."

Elijah
"So it's just... normal? Like, stuff you would normally do?" he asked.

he sounded confused, maybe he was confused. he needed a firmer hand but Richard's apprenticeship sounded... well... it sounded structured, if only because Eleanor was involved and something about the woman felt structured. It was enough to make him nod, and bless him because he was paying attention. He was present and focused and taking in what it was that Richard was saying, and it does bare mentioning because he is not always present when his body is somewhere.

"And you just know when you're done, and when you're ready to be initiated? There's no test at the end?"

Richard
"Well," Richard replies, "the initiation is the test. But I think it's different for everyone."

On that note, Richard gets to his feet. "I'm going to get more cilantro-lime rice," he says, picking up the big shared bowl, "and some water. Elijah, bring you a bottle?"Eleanor
"Every day is a test," Eleanor says quietly. There are crickets outside. They create a hum, an ethereal vibration as rhythmic as the ocean coming in,

going out.

"It doesn't matter what tradition you follow, or what path you are on. Every human, every day, faces a test." She sits back, her bowl of food on her lap, her glass of wine in her hand. She is watching Elijah as Richard speaks, and there was a faint smile when he mentioned playing Wii. She likes Wii bowling and boxing with her apprentice. She really does.

"Try not to think too many steps ahead. Think of the next action, the next step, and the ripples it will cause. Move slowly. Think, and speak, more slowly. Time is very long. Lives are very short."

Her eyes close for a moment, then open upon him again. "You will not be locked away in my basement. But you will see me often, and come to me often. You will come to me with questions before you seek answers elsewhere. You will take action carefully, with consideration, and contribution from myself, and Richard as well, and any others you trust. The decisions will be yours. You will walk under my wing. And that means that you will be protected, but it also means that when you do stupid things, you will be that much closer to injuring me where I am vulnerable."

Eleanor sighs. "And then we take it one day at a time."

Elijah
Did he want a bottle of water?

"Yes, please," he replied. 

It was a common problem, at least for Elijah, to try and think too far out. Simultaneously, it was a common problem for him to not think far enough out and the strange combination of the two has no doubt landed the young man in his current predicament.

"I can try to do one day at a time," he says. It's the best he can offer, that he would try. That he couldn't promise anything, because he knew himself well enough to know that he would, in fact, run into troubles. that older habits are hard to break, but one day at a time was certainly something that he could try. Perhaps the statement drove home how the relationship between mentors and students could be, that he could injure her where she was vulnerable if he wasn't careful. That it wasn't just one person who his actions impacted. That interconnectedness of people was there again, something less poetic and more raw.

"I can do one day at a time," he resigns.

Eleanor
Thinking too far out: we'll get Alicia's dad back and there will be no consequence and Alicia will feel better and everything will be yay!

without thinking right ahead of yourself: except consequences are a thing. And Alicia might not like her personal life spilled everywhere. And I don't know shit about the Technocracy.

Yes.

It's a problem.

--

Eleanor is watching him carefully. Eleanor has already said, and honestly, that she does not trust his judgement. But she is willing to take him to a place where he is protected but she is vulnerable. And he claims he can do one day at a time, but again:

she does not trust him. He doesn't have that.

She inhales deeply, and sighs an exhale. "We all will," she says, and leaves it at that for now.

--

They will eat their burrito bowls as night continues to fall around them, into utter darkness. Drink wine. Perhaps discuss the nature of the universe. Delve into details about how to explain to one mentor that he is leaving for another: Eleanor tells Elijah to tell Kalen to reach out to her, please, if he has questions or concerns. Maybe they talk a bit more about what was posted on Ginger: who the Scotts are, for example, since no one ever told Eleanor that. What the context was for his searches. What more he knows about Wyte Nyte, if anything.

There is another room downstairs in the basement, other than Eleanor's room or the room that Richard semi-lives in, or the room where the treadmill and yoga mats lives. Elijah can stay. That, at least, has always been on offer: he can stay here. It is safe here.

He is in the home of a killer.

The killer is on his side.

Safe as houses.

The Internet

Poirot
[Did I sleep?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 6, 9) ( success x 1 )
The Internet
[[Okay, the computer sits in front of Elijah! What specifically is he looking for on those fringe message boards?]]
Poirot
[Haha! Right now, he's looking into government kidnappings and cover ups. Cross referencing that with any reference people make to any kind of New World Order (which is just mainstream enough to HOPEFULLY not draw too much attention)]
The Internet
[[Okay! Int+Computer vs. 8 to sift through all the crap and try to find something potentially legit]]
Poirot
[Int+computers, diff 8]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (5, 5, 5, 6) ( success x 1 ) [WP]
Poirot
(can I extend?)
Poirot
[if I can? Then here goes! If not, that's cool too! Disregard]
Dice: 4 d10 TN9 (5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
The Internet
And thus, Elijah bravely dives into the world of conspiracy nuts. It's not as difficult as one might think to find stories of the New World Order kidnapping people. (Or perhaps people think it's easy; it all depends on your paranoia.) What's difficult is to sort through all the insane, tin foil hat-wearing ramblings to find some stories that might have an inkling of truth.
I saw black helicopters outside my window and then my cattle went missing.
There was a guy in a black suit who was hanging around when my girlfriend vanished. She showed up in Hawaii, weeks later with a new guy. I think she was abducted by aliens, that's not like her at all.
I'm being followed by mysterious government men all the time, I think they know I'm listening to their secret transmissions about who killed Kennedy through my fillings.
The Truth is Out There
You know, all that kind of nonsense. Or maybe it's not nonsense, who knows? Either way, it's not what Elijah is looking for. It isn't until he's been reading through stories until thinks his eyes are about to start bleeding that he comes across a tale of a woman who is looking for her son. What strikes Elijah about it is the fact that the story is posted in a forum about government kidnappings, but it doesn't mention any of the usual insanity.
The woman, Helen Scott, says that her son Isaac went missing about five years ago. Isaac was living with a group of friends in Seattle and had "fallen in with a bad crowd." A bunch of black-haired...you know, occult people...who listened to dark music and wore black nail polish and such. He had changed since then and she suspected that he was in a cult. But the entire group had vanished, except for one girl who was found dead, shot execution-style in their group apartment. Helen fears that they were "disappeared" for being too strange; Isaac had mentioned something in one of his rare emails to her about how they were looking into some other disappearances of people who were like them. She's afraid that they've been taken as some kind of terrorists and the government is just denying it.
It doesn't relate to Doctor Morgan or Khaled. But it's something.
Poirot
The internet? Is weird.
Elijah figures this is what he gets for starting the 4chan and then going even deeper in to the realm of what the Holy Hell is wrong with people? But he comes across one article, one woman- Helen Scott. Someone who seemed normal enough, who seemed content to be describing someone like Alyssa in her son. Something that caught his attention and seemed… well… normal.
Helen seemed normal, and that was the strange thing about her. She seemed normal enough that it made Elijah pause and decide to send her a message.
"Dear ma'am,
I came across your posting and I was wondering- have you heard anything about your son? Have there been any new developments?
-Hercule"
Like Hercule Poirot. The detective. With that, he had to try and look a little more into this Isaac Scott person from Portland. Not that it would help with Doctor Morgan or Khaled, but this… this sounded like the technocracy. He wanted to, at the very least, understand where they were coming from. What they were hiding from. He couldn't pursue this and yet… well… he had to.
Poirot
Dear ma'am,
I came across your posting and I was wondering- have you heard anything about your son? Have there been any new developments?
-Hercule
Poirot
(*Seattle, not portland, my bad!)
The Internet
Elijah doesn't get a message back right away. Such is the nature of the internet...for all its speed and instant information at your fingertips, not everyone is at their computers all the time and it's about an hour before he gets a response back.
The police have been incredibly unhelpful. They think that Isaac and his friends are criminals and killed this girl, then went on the run. But they also haven't filed any kind of report looking for him. I don't understand what's going on.
I was contacted the other day by two men who said that they were with the FBI. They asked me a lot of questions about my son and what he had told me, but I was very tired and stressed and I can't seem to remember what they asked me. They said that they were looking into it and that if I found that I had uncovered any further information, I should contact them.
Do you know anything about it? Do you know Isaac? I just want to know that he's okay.
Poirot
During the time that he was waiting for her to reply, Elijah spent his time cleaning up the apartment and mulling about and generally trying not to be nervous. he checked Ginger, and had been in the middle of thinking through some response before he finally got the reply that he was looking for.
He felt bad for this lady. Really bad, in fact. Elijah scratched the back of his head and went to formulating a reply.
First thing, I don't think that your son or his friends killed that girl-
He makes a note to the side to look into a murder, to look into any police records for Isaac Scott.
And I don't think those men you spoke with were strictly with the FBI. it's okay if you can't remember what they asked or anything of the like. Did they give you any contact information for how to contact them? Did they have names? One of my friends is missing, goth kid, and I was wondering if it might be related.
"Elijah, what the fuck are you asking? Grace is going to murder you."
Poirot
(ugh, computer, why)
Poirot
testPoirot
testPoirot
(come on, don't break the internet)
The Internet
[[Doobie Doobie Doo!]]Poirot
During the time that he was waiting for her to reply, Elijah spent his time cleaning up the apartment and mulling about and generally trying not to be nervous. he checked Ginger, and had been in the middle of thinking through some response before he finally got the reply that he was looking for.
He felt bad for this lady. Really bad, in fact. Elijah scratched the back of his head and went to formulating a reply.
First thing, I don't think that your son or his friends killed that girl-
He makes a note to the side to look into a murder, to look into any police records for Isaac Scott.
And I don't think those men you spoke with were strictly with the FBI. it's okay if you can't remember what they asked or anything of the like. Did they give you any contact information for how to contact them? Did they have names? One of my friends is missing, weird goth kid, and I was wondering if it might be related.
"Elijah, what the fuck are you asking? Grace is going to murder you."
The Internet
The response that comes through is short and to the point. It would appear that Helen Scott isn't one to randomly chat, at least when she's on this particular subject.
I'm sorry to hear that you have the same problem. And thank you for saying that about Isaac. No one else seems to believe me. They did leave contact information, I've provided it below. Maybe they can help you. I only ask that if you find anything about my son in the process, you let me know.
Sebastian Gross: (206) 555-2501Isabelle Wade: (206) 555-2502
Poirot
Elijah took a look at the information provided, and he started in to try and google these two people. He had his doubts, but he needed to see if they really were with the FBI. Something about this was definitely fishy, and the phone numbers were just glaring at him. Waiting for someone, anyone, to call.
Poirot
[int+computer]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 4, 7) ( success x 1 )
The Internet
Googling the names comes up with several entires for both "Sebastian Gross" and "Isabelle Wade." None of them are FBI agents, at least as far as Elijah can find. But then, would FBI agents be easily found as such on the internet? It's hard to say, and Elijah doesn't exactly know any legit FBI agents who he could test the theory with.
About that time, his email inbox pings. When he goes to check it, there is a message without a subject from someone named "WyteNyte," without an email address.
That's not a snake you wanna go poking.
Poirot
Elijah looked at the email cautiously, fairly convinced if he opened it, then he was going to end up having to buy a new computer (he might have to do that anyway, much to the chagrin of his parents). He went to check the email, looking carefully at the message. He paused, and then carefully typed a reply.
How did you find me?
The Internet
The response comes quick, pinging into his inbox mere seconds after Elijah sends his response.
You probably don't want to know. Just know that I'm not a friend or an ally. We are exactly opposed in a diametric manner, and yet trust me when I say...Googling Technocratic operatives isn't a wise move. There are ways for them to know.
Poirot
"HA! I fucking knew they weren't fBI agents!" he exclaimed at his computer. The young man probably shouldn't be as excited as he was about that particular finding. He looked back at the message, and carefully again formulated his reply.
Is it bad that I kind of do wish I knew? I don't want to make the same mistake twice. Or, at the very least, live long enough to consider it.
Was Helen Scott a real person?
The Internet
Yes. I don't believe that she will ever see her son again. And if she does, she will regret every second of it.
You're too trusting. Too optimistic. Issac Scott did not kill his cabalmate. He did kill the rest of his cabal. They were sacrifices. He became Nephandi along with the girl in the apartment. One down.
Poirot
"One down?" he asked.
So there's a chance they legitimately were looking into it. how does one go learning about WTF the technocracy is without ending up... well... fuck if I know, i'm lacking words. i'm trying to understand what is going on and my sources aren't reliable. One of them is, one person does not a comprehensive understanding make.
The Internet
There is a long pause, stretching out over several minutes, before... *Ding*
What do you want to know?
Poirot
How are they organized? I heard that they got hit by the stuff that caused the Avatar Storm as hard as the Traditions did. I heard that they believe in science and stuff.
Elijah took a moment to muse over things, to try and figure out what was going on and it had him thinking about the time that he was young and on the cusp of a complete and total breakdown. He tried to think of the counselor who had come to his house, the one whose face he barely remembered.
WTF is a Progenitor? Or Iteration X for that matter?
The Internet
Most of that I'm not going to tell you. What I will tell you about the Technocracy is that they protect mankind from the danger that out-of-control people with far too much power and not enough wisdom to use it present to them. People like Isaac Scott, for example.
The only problem is that some of them take that too far from time to time. The mission is sound, but the methods make them lose their way. "They" won the war. Then "they" failed to realize that there's a difference between winning and becoming that which you're try to stop.
Poirot
Isn't there a quote about dying hero or living long enough to become the villain somewhere? What about a big organizational overhaul? Surely, someone in there must realize that they've gone astray at some point, right?
The Internet
A short response comes back, very quickly.
Funny you should mention that.
Poirot
"Oh, shit," he murmured, looking carefully at the screen. It took a good minute before he responded.
Am I about to regret asking that? because I kind of already do.
The Internet
Relax. If you were in danger from me, I never would have made contact with you. I haven't seen anything to suggest you're a threat.
Poirot
That's fortunate, I pride myself on being generally harmless and not worthy of being scourged from the face of existence.
So, it isn't the mission of the technocratic union to completely obliterate all things that are not exactly fitting into their world view? Because that was really the impression I got. What constitutes as a major threat?
The Internet
When you threaten the Masses, you become a major threat.
A bit of a pause, and then another ding.
I have to go. I have to be careful. We'll talk again soon, I'm sure. Stop Googling Technocrats and hopefully you won't end up disappeared.
Later.
Poirot
Elijah was left to stare at his computer. This person... this person had to be careful. This person might not have actually left the union. Elijah found himself staring at his computer, unsure if he should really touch it or what to do next.
For now, he was content to send a message back
TTYL, peace!