Elijah Poirot
[How did I sleep?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Elijah Poirot
What was Elijah doing at the chantry?
Of course, aside from making a sandwich. Making… a fuck ton of sandwiches.
There was peanut butter, jelly, and bread piled in neat little couplings in nice, comfortable stacks and Elijah, with hi blond hair and green eyes and easy smile, was a man on a mission. A man on a mission that probably required making an abundance of sandwiches and the only logical solution was that he was either incredibly high (possible, Elijah was high on a somewhat regular basis) or twenty years old and a little underweight (also possible. He was six feet tall and lean and he spent a good chunk of his time doing things that he didn't actually have the physical prowess to be doing- like climbing trees or being trounced while running with his room mate).
But enough about sandwiches and their meditative qualities. The young man in the vest took a step back to admire his handiwork, knife in hand and looking at his army of PB&J, Elijah smiled. Yeah, that'd do.
Lena Reilly
Elijah is making sandwiches at the chantry. Lena is not. Sandwiches really aren't much on her mind as the green Kawasaki Ninja 250R slows down before turning off the road and pulling up to the house (although it doesn't mean that they won't be; everyone needs to eat). The Ecstatic doesn't come about the chantry more than once every few weeks; she's made the conscious decision to stay connected to the other Awakened of the city but to remain somewhat apart from the actual chantry itself, for her own reasons. This is a check-in moment.
And so the gravel in the little walkway to the front door crunches underneath sneakers as she walks up, her biking jacket now unzipper to reveal a plain grey T-Shirt underneath. She's ruffling her hands through her hair as she opens the door and steps inside, calling out as she does. Standard operating procedure for her, just to see who might be in listening distance of the front door and thus likely to run into her. Of course, for those who had their senses attuned, the withering pulse of her Resonance would already identify her, but she's learned not to sneak up on mages.
"Hey, it's Lena."
Elijah Poirot
[What does Lena feel like Per+aware]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
Elijah Poirot
There was… a feeling. Not a feeling he could place, not one that he could readily identify. Just… a feeling. A feeling that he wasn't exactly alone and he was in the middle of taking one of the sandwiches off to the living room to go do whatever it is that he did while he was at the chantry (study. That's all he did most days, party his ass off or study like it was finals week every week). He hears a voice and hey! It's Lena!
Oh, that feeling was Lena. That indistinct something was Lena's presence and-
"Hey! you're not in a coma!" was enough of a hello from him, sandwich in hand and going to greet the cultist at the door.
Lena Reilly
[[Magedar! Spec: Uncanny Instincts]]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )
Lena Reilly
The last two times (read: the only two times) she saw Elijah, she didn't really get a chance to get an inkling off him. The first time gave a little bit but that's been quite a while ago, while the second was when she was at the hospital and possessed with thoughts that somewhat precluded her from caring too much to focus on Elijah's Resonance. This time she takes it in, lets it wash over her. The tumult doesn't concern her, because such conflict and chaos is part and parcel to the Ecstatic aesthetic.
She smiles when she sees Elijah, shaking her head. "No, not anymore. I've been out of it for a while now. How are you?"
Elijah Poirot
The first time, the very first time, that Lena met Elijah it was brief. There were things she didn't know. She didn't know that he was only a few weeks off his medication and wrought with the kind of tension hat comes when you expect to hear gunshots. When you expect for something to lash out and you desperately, desperately want to hide how not okay you are. Elijah had become adept at hiding how wrong things could be.
Things weren't wrong right now. No, on the contrary, things seemed just fine. Elijah was more concerned with lunch than he was with the idea that the walls were going to start screaming at him (they still might, he was never too sure…)
He feels, though, like a disaster. Like the moments during a hurricane and the unrest in men's hearts before revolution. It makes sense he would feel like this. Elijah was a mess. He was unrest. It suited him just fine.
"Tilting windmills," he replies, "but other then that, Señor Poirot is freaking fantastic."
He looks well rested. The young man offers Lena a sandwich wordlessly, "I have, like, twenty."
Lena Reilly
She didn't know where Elijah was, but she's been there herself. Not in the same circumstances--her own Awakening went much smoother--but she's had those points in time, both before and after she ceased being a Sleeper. Regardless, if they ever discuss it Lena will express that she thoroughly understands. Anyone rational would.
But that's for another time (which is of course may as well be now, because it's time). Now, she is being offered a sandwich. Lena isn't hungry really, but she smiles a little and takes it. "Twenty? Practicing your technique, preparing for a lunch party or something else?"
Elijah Poirot
"Ever do something, but your mind is completely somewhere else, and you look up and you've been doing the same thing for the past hour? There's a sort of zen in making sandwiches. You put things together, and then move on, and then it's all done- the motion isn't mindless buit it gives your hands something to do while you're thinking."
Twenty sandwiches in, Elijah apparently had a lot of thinking to do. He sighed, "all I can think about lately is Alicia and her stupid dad and I have no freaking idea what I'm doing but everyone says I should just drop it but… I can't, ya know?"
He gestures back to the kitchen, "so, Khaled Abandonato is responsible for the abundance of sandwiches."
Lena Reilly
His eplanation puts a warm, wide smile on her face. "Are you kidding? You're talking to an Ecstatic who has headphones plugged into her ears at least fourteen hours out of the day. Zen and the art of anything isn't just a catchy book title to me; it's just about an apt description of my lifestyle."
Her brow furrows though, at mention of Alicia. The girl and Lena had established a connection early on, though it seems to have slipped away during the whole coma situation. Still, she does have Ginger and she is aware of the situation to a degree. "I get that you can't. I also get why people say you should drop it."
She lets out a breath. It's not a sigh, it's more of a thoughtful exhalation as she collects her thoughts. "You have to do what you have to do, Elijah. Don't not do something just because someone told you that you shouldn't or that it could be dangerous. At the same time...realize that we're all one. You, me, Alicia, Kalen, Lucy, the guy who greets people at the Wal-Mart in Morrison, Barack Obama, a blood dimaond profiteer in South Africa, a freedom fighter in the Ukraine...all of us are connected. The closer connections are the strongest, of course. And what comes down on you comes down on everyone who's connected to you. Which is everyone."
She shrugs a little. "That's not an admonition to stop doing what you're doing. I think you have the right intentions, and I understand what you want to do. It makes sense. You just have to figure out how it makes sense."
Elijah Poirot
You're talking to an Ecstatic who has headphones plugged into her ears at least fourteen hours out of the day.
"You can tell," he says, "my room mate says your shows are fan-fucking-tastic, her exact words. And Jenn does't randomly intersperse fucks for anything."
She inhales, exhales and it is thoughtful. Elijah takes a bite of sandwich, because he might as well start eating because he made enough to feed an entire first grade class. Provided the class didn't have food allergies, that is, but we digress. He bites, chews, swallows, and repeats the process again because it gave him time to mull it over. Elijah nodded along, "right now, it's all a logistics nightmare.
Lena Reilly
"Your roommate is very kind." She takes the compliment without blushing or preening; it's acceptance and gratitude without basking in it.
"So what's the logistics problem, then?" She moves to take a lean against the counter, setting the sandwich down for now. "Tell me what you're coming up against."
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