Logs:Grunting and Soliloquy

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Cast

Vasya, Fox, Simon and Harmony

Setting

The Lodge of the Children of the Tree

Log

It was only a matter of time before Vasya had to return to Philadelphia in more than the figurative all-places-are-the-same sense he's been cheating with up to now. In the very real 'the universe is now fully aware of me, everyone that's mad at me can find me to yell at me' sense. With that understanding comes the awareness the being perceived, being present to be Known, is going to have ripple effects. That butterfly flap will, in time, gather a hurricane here in Philadelphia with his name on it. It's almost a certainty, given his body count and prior habits. The Seers aren't going to suddenly respect he's setting down his gun. Nor, he imagines, will Putin.

So it is with that understanding that he tells himself he is not in fact hiding amongst dozens of people with no compelling reason to defend his life save that it would make his wife sad.

But he is. For the first time in his life he is hiding. Not stalking. Not lying in wait. Not acting like some predator among prey. No. He is absolutely definitely cowering behind other people. And as he lifts his cup of coffee to his lips and takes a long drag off his cigarette, it is clear to anyone paying any attention that he doesn't realize this is a blessing he should be counting. Hasn't occurred to him yet this is the trust part of the trust fall. He is the picture of a dog with its hackles up. Tense doesn't begin to really adequately describe it.

And it's difficult to look tense in a dingy track suit with mussy hair.

Simon had mourned himself. But there was only so much moping the bastard could do, before mourning turned to anger.

It had been distracting enough, teaching himself the intricacies of his new body, his new... room mate... and new powers. Fascinating distractions, but they wouldn't calm his rage. They wouldn't keep him busy for long.

And thus Wayne is pulling up to the Lodge in a fancy, sleek sports car, and Simon slides out of the back seat and approaches the building. Ringing, knocking, whatever must be done to signal his arrival, he does so with an air of impatience and I might not belong here but dammit, here I am and you gotta deal with it snobbery. And of course a tailored suit, not a stitch or hair out of place. While he looks more rested than he has in years, it doesn't soften his resting bitch face. (edited)

Fox is, at the end of the day, always still Fox. Good in a crisis, calm and together when people need her to be, and afterwards...

... afterwards sometimes a girl just needs to go to pieces.

Or butterflies. Sometimes a girl just has to go to butterflies. Except moths, because it's nighttime.

Swarm-thought is a new skill that Fox is getting better at, and working on getting even better at. So it is that when the door opens to the Lodge, whoever answers it (probably Vasya) finds Simon standing there and suddenly surrounded by a fluttering cloud of Gaudy Sphinx Moths, eumorpha labruscae. Beautiful, big -- about 5" long -- the color of jade with purple and white spots on their wings.

It does make him look a bit like an erstwhile Disney prince on vacation.

When your instincts reach for parts of your soul that are no longer shaped to answer a praxial call, it's like a metaphysical phantom limb situation. And the clumsy imago that results from it is brutish and crude by the former Guardian's prior standards. But once he's concluded some facts about the presence at the door, he does in fact head to the door, coffee in hand and cigarette in his mouth-- barefoot --to answer the door. His wife beater is pristine white, at least. Though he scratches his hairy belly peaking out beneath it as he surveys the moth illumined sin eater through the unfortunate mage sight he's chosen for the evening.

He mutters a curse under his breath in Ukrainian, then lets out a heavy sigh and steps out of the way, gesturing Simon inside. He does look out and give Wayne a wave. Wayne's a good guy. He saved Wayne's life. Got him a raise, too. Wayne is quite possible the closest thing to a friend outside of work Vasya has. Sad! But even so, he does wait until all the moths are inside before shutting the door behind them all and pap pap papping his bare feet across the hard wood and towards the liquor cabinet.

"Whatever you want to talk about will go better with liquor. What are you having?"

Poor Simon. He has a halo of moths, and now they're all inside.

Mary doesn't have a car, and frankly, isn't sure she would trust herself with one. Terrible for the environment they are. Granted, she has a few advantages that include the ability to fly which is one that's been utilized now.

This happy combination of facts leads to a crow landing on a nearby lamp post and eying the building as the door closes. With a pause of consideration and a desire to not be caught buck naked on the street, Mary hops down and seeks out an open window. Or at least a window a beak can be tapped against in order to draw some attention.

Wayne stays sitting in the driver's seat unless directed in by someone, but he does give Vasya an upnod in greeting before pulling out his phone to waste time while he waits.

Simon is not prepared for a swarm of moths to surround him. He startles, his instinct indeed to swat at them--quickly batting one or two away before he looks to Vasya, staring for a beat. No reaction from the mage. The moths are just... a perfectly normal thing, apparently. Fucking magic. He lowers his hand with a sigh, staring with displeasure at the moths that seem set on clinging to his head.

"Scotch," he replies to Vasya, then looks to the window as the crow taps on the glass. Ah. Yep. Perfectly normal. (edited)

Simon is definitely passing a few tests he's not aware he's being given by a certain swarm of moths's husband. So once Simon is inside the hall proper, Vasya brings the lights up from their night more and proceeds to cross to the window to squint at the bird just long enough to make certain what he's letting in is what he's letting in. And then he lifts the window sash and gestures the bird inside, "Apologies, I had to be sure. I'm only a guest here." Once the bird is inside, he lowers the sash again and then locks it.

"Simon, forgive my wife. She's being a fox being a swarm of moths which Baldur pointed out to me the other day defeats entirely the purpose of being something not fox-like." He's married to moths. Why not. Or. Moths that were foxes. Yep. Magic. But he is at least taking it in stride. Finally, at long last, he gets back to the liquor cabinet to get out the scotch. Because Simon does not say rocks, Vasya does not ask. A gentleman is therefore handed a neat glass by another gentleman. Albeit one in a dingy tracksuit that smells like a fermented potato that hid in a gym sock.

Once they have pestered Simon in through the door -- one gets swatted and seems to somehow exaggeratedly limp away through the air -- the moths scatter across the room, momentarily distracted by the lightslightslights before starting to swarm around Vasya for a moment.

Does a swarm of moths huff? Somehow, they seem to do so, and then collapse inward and downward, assembling like bright green jigsaw puzzle pieces into an orange blur of motion which curls itself, catlike, between the Ukranian's feet. If it's defeating the purpose, after all, she might as well just be a fox. Hmph.

The crow perches on the back of a chair, shuffling along it before spreading wings and lowering its head in a gesture that's bow like to Vasha, and not normal crow procedure. It also somehow gives the impression of being a deliberately over the top gesture. Simon receives a caw of greeting as he's someone only newly known.

Fox meanwhile? Well, there's a hop to the ground and a sudden explosion of feathers into fur. And now there are two foxes on the ground. Only one Fox though, as always. The second fox settles with a slight yawn, nudging Fox in happy greeting.

"...Charming," Simon says dully as Vasya identifies the swarm as his wife. He is distracted momentarily by the swarm coming together and forming the fox--because no matter how dour you are, that is quite a sight. He blinks behind his glasses for a beat, then turns to accept the glass from Vasya. "Thank you," he says, then promptly swallows down a mouthful.

"Any news?" He then asks. Straight to business.

Harmony being present to distract Fox is a spot of good luck for Simon and himself, both. The dour Ukrainian is similarly charmed by the sight, and he's seen it more than anyone save the vixen in question. It's always wonderful to him. The question, though, distracts him from any proper attention he might pay the fox beyond a gentle nudging with his bare feet at the underside of her belly by way of tummy rubs. It probably tickles considerably.

So, balancing on one foot while sort of petting a fox, holding a mug of coffee, and cigarette still dangling from his lips the Acanthus remains entirely in his element and continues playing the part of host despite looking like he's on a bender. "The news is that there is no news which is actually good news. I nearly killed Squid." The fact that he employs a name is deliberate, though that fact may be lost on Simon without some dice because Vasya is absolutely smooth like that. "Xie is recovering still. Magical methods are best avoided. Any loose potentia around a captive Seer is asking for trouble. But. Xie is sedated, the bullet is out. Surgery went well. And once Squid has regained consciousness, we can begin questioning. Everyone involved has, however, already agreed to include you in the process and to recognize with a capital R your rights in this matter. Which I advocated for, for what it is worth."

The arrival of Mary does distract Fox, though in a matter which at first probably startles anyone who isn't used to it. The elder of the currently-vulpine Thyrsus pins her ears back, her jaws open in something like a mega-wide smile, and she puffs out her chest, making a sharp, short gekkering. It probably looks a little like a threatening posture, at first, but then it comes with a rapidly-twitching tail and a quick couple of bats at Mary's face with her black forepaws. Then it looks a little more like canid playtime, for anyone familiar with it.

That doesn't last too long, though, as Fox noses at Mary familiarly and circles the flopped form once before stretching and collapsing as well. A pair of solemn yellow eyes turn their attention to Simon, then. It's kind of annoying how knowing canine eyes can be.

Mary responds in kind, with much gekkering. And paws are batted at Fox in turn as she partly sits up to better engage in the playtime. As Fox settles, Mary nudges her side lightly, then nudges at Vasha's feet in case he can be persuaded to share out tummy rubs.

Regardless, she glances at Fox and then there are two pairs of canine eyes focused on the poor man.

The proclamation of no news is good news brings about a highly doubtful look. His lips twist with displeasure as he eyes Vasya, but by the end of it he looks less displeased. The knowledge Vasya had advocated for him does have an effect. He nods, then exhales a short sigh. "Very well. The threat of detection by just moving things along does... make sense, I'll give you that. In the meantime, are there any plans for tracking down that one who got away? Or will that be determined by this one's interrogation?"

"They don't exist yet." Vasya tries to begin explaining. "The person they sent back-- and Squid both --have yet to be born. They were in fact sent back precisely because they aren't born yet. Which puts the future we're fighting at roughly in the range of twenty years out." Vasya continues to speak words along this vein as though Simon is just going to have to start accepting some shit real quick if he wants this conversation to move to the important bits.

"So when they came back to their past which is our present, I was able to interrupt Squid's return to xer present which is our future. But I chose not to do so to the other one's. Because I wasn't certain I could take both in a fight, but I was 99.99% repeating certain I could take Squid. Which I did. Which brings me to the segue for the next piece of information I will need you to process. So please let me know if you have questions." He plucks his cigarette from his mouth, balances on the one foot, sips his coffee. Dances the tightrope.

When Vasya starts explaining exactly what happened, there, Fox doesn't look surprised at all, not even for people who are good at reading vulpine facial expressions. She noodles over to Vasya's one foot that he's standing on and starts absently gnawing on the ankle of said foot. Just ... gumming his ankle. Like a very normal wife thing to do when your husband is standing on one foot.

Mary meanwhile, tilts her head and pricks her ears up. Important information here, even if Time stuff always gives her a headache. She sits up some, appearing more alert. Though this doesn't prevent her from yipping with vulpine laughter as the gnawing of the foot begins.

Simon.... stares. Then lifts his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose, eyes closing for a moment as he tries to... wrap his mind around all of that. "Not currently," he says after a second or two of silence, that suggests he does but is waiting until the end. (edited)

Before Vasya begins speaking, he makes a point of reaching behind his back to pull out a truly impressive piece of craftsmanship. A silver plated .40 caliber handgun. Custom built, clearly, with a handle like a classic revolver, carved in ivory relief with the image of Lyudmila Pavlichenko and her rifle. It's the gun of a Ukrainian kid that grew up watching American westerns to be damn certain. He makes a show of demonstrating how to work the safety, the magazine release, the slide release. He removes the magazine and proceeds to thumb out the rounds which is an activity that takes a hilarious amount of time when you have space magic in your magazines. He actually has to smile apologetically around round sixty. Anyway. Once they stop piling up about his feet, he takes a single silver round from his pocket, etched with some cyrillic script, puts it in the magazine, returns the magazine to the weapon, and sets it down in absurdly easy reach of Simon. Then he walks to stand in front of the window, turns his back, and sips his coffee.

"I could have stopped what happened to you, Simon, and I chose not to do so. At any point I could have wound back time and undone what my negligence had permitted to happen to you. I assumed wrongly that you were about to confront a Moros awakening. An understandable assumption in my place, one you have already forgiven me for making. But what you were unaware of at the time and were unaware of before now is that once I knew I had made an error I chose to let it persist. People often mistake me for some perfect being incapable of failure, but the truth is I fail all the time and the universe is never allowed to mark it down on the books. I only let you see me succeed. I hide my failures where I hide my shame. Where no one will ever find it." (More) (edited)

"I let it persist, Simon, because sometime in the next few months, I am going to sire twins with my wife. It took my catastrophic failure in being the sort of person that deserves to father two daughters to become the kind of person that understands now what it is going to take for me to become the kind of person that deserves two daughters. But that road is through you, Simon, because up to this moment it was over you. I Recognize my own gross negligence as a Citizen Agent of the Free Council, I accuse myself of a failure to prevent the murder of a protected member of the Consilium."

And if up until this moment Vasya seemed... somehow larger than life. Stronger, faster, more charming, better. Some panther like predator possessed of the ability to dance on one foot while amusing his foxwife. He is suddenly just a very tired man at the end of a very long road, unwilling to start another without settling some accounts.

"So. If you want Squid dead, pick up that gun and start with me, Simon. You are entirely within your rights now, and with what I have said before two witnesses, you are legally free from reprisal." (edited)

Fox is rolling around on the ground, gnawing on Vasya's ankle, just being silly, because there have been a lot of chaos moments lately, and a lot of Things that Fox has had to do which have been deeply unpleasant, and this is how Fox deals with them, right? Overt silliness?

But at the end of all of that, suddenly there's a grubby woman wearing just an oversized t-shirt which says "NEVER FEAR, THE UKRANIAN IS HERE" in blue and yellow lettering, probably pushing Vasya's off leg upward with her sudden presence, sitting on the floor with her mouth open.

"Wait."

"You're going to what?"

The second fox freezes a second, eyes blinking as this sudden declaration is taken in. And the thought of crooning in delight at the revelation that Vasha and Fox are going to sire twins is lost, at least for now, in the offer for Simon to end Vasha's life if he chooses.

And suddenly the fox is a human woman, standing with a set expression on her face, and utterly uncaring about her lack of clothing. "I can't just let you have someone shoot you Vasha, I'm a member of the Arrows."

"Vasya Andryiovich," he protests meekly, it must be said.

Simon watches the long process of emptying the magazine with... at first confusion and bewilderment, which sours again as it goes on and on, clearly assuming that Vasya is trying to... show off or make some sort of power play, which he grows unimpressed by, by the end.

When he sets the gun down instead, Simon looks confused, staring at the revolver for a moment, then settling his gaze on Vasya again when he gets further into his speech. His eyes are cold, and damn if he looks like he could easily pick up that gun and shoot without a second thought. But that isn't very far from his usual cold stares.

"Is he always this melodramatic?" he asks instead, glancing towards Fox. (edited)

"Apologies, but my point stands. I.." She breaks off as Simon speaks up, also glancing at Fox. She's pretty sure Vasya is, but Fox knows that answer best.

"Yes. But also, this is the truth. I watched you bleed out and die through my scope so I could have a family. And the precise moment I knew that was the wrong call to make, Simon, was the precise moment I couldn't unmake it if I wanted to. It's done now. I am a selfish prick. I was grossly negligent. A member of the consilium did die because of it. And it is his right to kill me if he wants to. And I am making the very real point that the knife you want to use to kill Squid belongs in my neck next."

He then reiterates, "But yes. I have two modes. Grunting and soliloquy."

Oh. Right. The wife.

Vasya wheels about suddenly and claps his hands together, laughing suddenly and abruptly in the most doomed of slavic doomed laughs. "Surprise, honey!"

Fox is stuck on the soon you will be pregnant with twins thing, still, clearly. She splutters and flaps her hands a little bit, apparently -- for once -- entirely speechless.

Simon just ends up getting a sort of helpless look, and when she regains the power of speech, wails, "Yeeeees?" Though, apparently, this is unusual levels of melodramatic even for Vasya. Or this is how Fox is finding this out. Yep, that's clearly the case.

"Let's make sure I'm following you," Simon says, turning his attention back on Vasya, lips twisting irritably as two very emotional moments with very different emotions clash together. "You had some... crisis of conscience over failing to save my life, and believe that because I died, you now are worthy of being a father? And you would not have been, if you had altered time? I'm failing to see how those two things connect." (edited)

Mary doesn't comment further, but she does remain poised in the manner of one looking ready to act if she deems it necessary. This doesn't present her resting a hand on Fox's shoulder as a supporting gesture, given the recent revelation.

Vasya takes a deep breath and holds it in, then clasps both hands before his face. Is he counting to ten? Do Acanthus have to count to ten? Don't they just pull extra time for patience out of their silver tinted backsides? He lets the breath out slowly, lowers his hands, and opens his eyes to resume addressing Simon. "I carry an effect on me that tells me when events begin to diverge from a chosen timeline. The timeline where, in twenty or so years, we are winning a war against the people that murdered you, the Seers of the Throne. In that future I am a member of the martial arm of the Children of the Tree, a Tear of the Martyr's Tree, a father of two twin daughters, one named after my wife's grandmother one after my pistol, Lyudmila. With that effect in place I have been policing my perfect future from the past. Trying to become ... someone I had no familiarity with. The Guardians turned me into a sociopathic hitman, Simon. I put a round in a 20 year old kid so I could take xer captive." He shakes his head, as though trying to imagine doing so now. As though the idea is just fucking alien to him suddenly.

"I believed that anything and everything was worth having two kids like them. It isn't, Simon. And that realization came to me when it was too late for me to do anything about the situation I left you in. I fucked up. Yes, you had to go through this so that I could have my perfect future. But I don't know if it's because of what we'll do together if you forgive me and help me fix this shit, or because I literally just had to fuck up that badly to change. I don't know. I will never know. Because I am done playing that kind of game with other people's lives."

"Do you want to come with me to find out what could make a kid do this to you?"

Look, there are only so many one-two punches a bitch can be expected to take in a two minute period. And at the end of Vasya's second soliloquy, the one in which he just casually explains that he already knows what their kids are named and that he's been guarding that future, that's the future he's anchored to, Fox just lets out a flat groan and slowly falls back onto the floor, spreading her arms out like she's a little kid with a blue space alien for a dog laying on her back listening to Elvis.

Simon's brows remain knit and his gaze cold, but there's cogs turning behind his eyes as he seems to finally understand what Vasya is saying. As much as a non-mage can understand an Acanthus with the power to bend time to his whims.

"I assume you know that I have a daughter?" he asks Vasya.

"I was banking on the awareness that you are a good father, if that is what you are asking me," is Vasya's response. Measured and calm.

"I would absolutely put a bullet into the heads of anyone in this room, or anyone else I came across, if I had the ability to know without a doubt it would assure a perfect future with her." Perhaps it is fate's blessing that he didn't become a Mage with endless cosmic power.

"You're in luck that I had accepted my inevitable death years ago already, and that your actions have consequently resulted in my quality of life, overall, vastly improving. So no, I will not shoot you, but I also do not think it is my responsibility to absolve you of whatever... torment you have decided you deserve to carry." (edited)

Visibly relaxing a hair as Simon states he doesn't intend to shoot Vasya, but still keeping an eye on things, Mary sinks to her knees next to Fox, rubbing their shoulder lightly. "So, ah. Good news?" She asks carefully to the Thrysus. She keeps half an ear on the conversation, but a lot of that is between Simon and Vasya and not her business. (edited)

"All you have to do is accept my apology to absolve me of that. Recognize that the bullet I had to put in you belonged to Squid, and that because that was both willful and deliberate, I might as well have pulled the trigger myself. And I am furthermore asking you to--" Vasya briefly closes his eyes, because this is literally the first time he is hearing himself say this stuff aloud --"put aside your very justified anger and come with me to meet the person that tried to kill you. The child that tried to kill you. And I am asking you if you would like to help me bring about a better future. One where people like Squid aren't being turned into people like Squid. I have every reason to believe something about you-- something about your change --is very much key to putting things to right. Not. Just for me. Or for us. But for you as well. Somehow." Vasya's clearly losing the thread of it, and so he trails off and lets out a visibly frustrated sigh. This is so much harder without magic helping him. But you don't learn without failure.

So he tried for succinct. "Do you have any interest at all in improving the human condition? That's sort of my thing now."

Groan. Fox is just totally overloaded. Vasya is going to have to carry her home and pat her head a few times. This was probably not how he planned on her finding out, but such is the life of an Acanthus, right?

"I knew we would have twins." She did? "At least I guessed. And it makes sense. But -- " But the certainty of it, the casual this is a fact of it, and the timeline? That seems new.

Mary chews her lip some. "I mean, mm. It's a lot. I'm better with Fate than Time, though you could argue as to which of them this is, or if it's both.. There are arguments for.. anyway, not the point I think. It's processing, that you certainly will? You could choose not to, but, equally you can choose to. In fact, could say that knowing about this future, gives you more room for choosing said future? Does this make sense right now?"

Simon looks very doubtful that he has any part in somehow making the world a better place, and his mouth opens to clearly throw some sour words back at Vasya. But something catches his attention. A soft echo of stringed music only he hears, a soft chill that gives only him goosebumps. He looks to the side, towards the woman wearing oblivion as a mask. She lightly touches his shoulder, and the two stare at each other for a long moment, some sort of unspoken connection between them. Or, you know, if you can't see spooky shit, he just... weirdly stares into space for several seconds. His lips twist into another displeased look, reluctant and unsure. Her pale fingers cup his cheek gently, and he lets out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Improving the human condition isn't something I've ever cared about. Dying did not spark some sudden... altruistic fire inside me, I'm afraid. I'm not sure I can give you what you are asking for. I don't even know if I'm capable of it." He pulls his glasses off so he can rub a hand over his face. "You really think saving this person's life will bring about this fantasy you've latched onto?"

"That's precisely it, Harmony. 'The future' is an absurd concept. Just like the past is. Just as now is. It either all exists or none of it does. And if it all exists, it always existed. So it's already all written. But it's also all written an infinite number of times. What we imagine as a tapestry is more of a braided weave. Or a knotted membrane." Someone is teetering on the edge of some mystical revelations, that much is absolutely certain. "The fact is everything I have been doing up to the moment the Consilium and the Children recognize the present was under attack from the future was, by definition violation of the Pax Arcana. I was aiding and abetting Archmasters from the future tampering in the past. I was doing it because a future me came back in time and told me to do it. And then my daughter. It was the perfect one two combination punch at the precise moments in my life. Just as Simon's death was. I am not saying I am some central figure, I am simply saying up until very recently I was one of a very few people who were aware any of this was going on. And I was pursuing my own, personal, highly criminal agenda within that conspiracy. Because I was a Guardian of the Veil and a Red Guard, and could-- and did --get away with it. All for my kids. All for my family. And I did it alone, without anyone's help, because it would have made you all conspirators in my-- again, I have to remind you all --capital crimes."

The last words are Very Obviously meant for Someone.

"I was trying to keep you all safe the only way I knew how at the time. I didn't know I could just trust anyone."

He then looks to Simon with visible disappointment. Baldur will be smug when he reports back that it did not in fact go his way. "Then here's my advice to you, Simon."

"Go look at your new world with your new eyes and see if you feel differently. And if you do in the future, you'll know where to find me honing my pitch." Vasya twitches the corner of his mouth in a manner precisely one person will pin easily as a smile. "I'm not holding anybody accountable to my wants any longer. Go be you. But if you treat Wayne badly, just know I'll know." The smile he gives at that comment is obvious to everyone, certainly.

Simon scoffs, perching the glasses back onto his nose. "Call me when it's time to speak to the captive." As much as Vasya had tried to humanize the child Seer, Simon so far stuck to the opposite. "And for fucks sake, tend to your poor wife."

With that, Simon turns on his heel and strides for the door.

Fox had just started to sit up and look a little less green around the gills, and then the import of the words "and then my daughter" hit her in the gut, and she groans again and collapses slowly like a flan in a cupboard.

She doesn't complain, anyway. Probably she took his meaning. But please forgive her for not seeing Simon out. She's bluescreening over here.

"Not a fan of the slavic sense of humor, eh?" Vasya offers to Simon's retreating back. "I'll work on that, too." There are three things Vasya can do well naturally. Keep his cool, murder everyone around him in any number of ways, and lie to your face. He does two of the three in smiling after Simon put that one on his a mention of his wife.

Mary draws a slow breath before standing and facing Vasya, face looking a little drawn. "Look after Fox. I'm not going to try and haul you in now. Aside from the fact she needs you here at the moment, this is a tangle. And it's beyond my knowledge regarding what laws have been crossed and what the response needs to be."

Looking tired, she rubs at her cheeks. "But I do need to report this, I think you're aware I do. I can give you, and I know the irony of this statement, a little time. We all need a better future Vasya, but the journey matters as much as the destination. Though you're clearly aware of that."

"The people they're sending back to kill us all one by one aren't going to wait on a committee, but I understand," Vasya offers to Mary with a shrug of the shoulders. "If you want it to work in any meaningful way you had better wait about twenty three hours, forty three minutes eight seconds from when I wish you a good evening." With that, Vasya does finally turn to scoop up Fox in his arms. That it takes effort means he really did drop his spells back there. "Good evening."

The Thyrsus picks her head up and blinks slowly at Laura, then Vasya. She has an opinion, maybe, but maybe her brain isn't working so good right now. It's much easier to let things just kind of happen right now and trust that if Vasya is letting them happen, they lead to the right place.

Mary nods slightly. "Alright. Good luck Vasya." Still looking tired and clearly torn despite her declaration she moves towards the window, cracking it open enough to resume the form of a crow and exit.

And then there is a moment when they are standing in the Lodge and in a wheat field somewhere where it's daylight. Europe, then. Eastern Europe somewhere. And as Harmony flies out the window, the fields of Ukraine disappear again, and the Lodge becomes as empty as it ever really gets at any hour. (edited)