[[[[[[MONROE'S NOTES: Monroe is an excellent host and a great cook even if
he is a former Iterator.  Here's proof.]]]]]]

Split-Level Apartment -- Telegraph Hill Custom Clockworks(#2367R)

 
 	 This area of the house has been renovated recently, tearing out
the walls that made it into small rooms and replacing them with more space
and better windows, though the actual furnishings are on the sparse side.
A gigantic steamer trunk stands in one corner - a pair of bookshelves are
half-filled, the rest of the books lying in piles nearby. An iron,
zigzagging staircase leads up to the second floor, which has been
converted to a loft bedroom. A large wardrobe stands open there, with
clothes peering out. The kitchen, which occupies one tiled corner of the
apartment, is especially sparse, with hardly an appliance in evidence. A
large wooden work table has been assembled recently and placed to one
side, out of the way of the comfortable-looking chairs and couch near the
west-facing window. 
 	 << +views set >>
Obvious exits:
Out <O>
You have no unread mail.
There are no unread postings on the Global Bulletin Board.

Main Room -- Telegraph Hill Custom Clockworks(#2274R)

	This is a small shop, converted out of the front parlor and front
room of the skinny, small brick house that this building used to be. Two
large display cases have been installed, filled with white light and small
pedestals lined with crushed velvet holding watches and clocks of all
description. Pocket watches nestle next to wristwatches and alarm clocks
and desk clocks, ticking and chiming inexorably away. The lighting here is
indirect and soft, a pale yellow that lends the wooden furnishings a
sepia, antique tone, though they all seem to be of modern manufacture. 
	<<+views installed>>

Obvious exits:
Back Room <BR>  Out <O>
You step through the door into the back room.
Split-Level Apartment -- Telegraph Hill Custom Clockworks(#2367R)

 
 	 This area of the house has been renovated recently, tearing out
the walls that made it into small rooms and replacing them with more space
and better windows, though the actual furnishings are on the sparse side.
A gigantic steamer trunk stands in one corner - a pair of bookshelves are
half-filled, the rest of the books lying in piles nearby. An iron,
zigzagging staircase leads up to the second floor, which has been
converted to a loft bedroom. A large wardrobe stands open there, with
clothes peering out. The kitchen, which occupies one tiled corner of the
apartment, is especially sparse, with hardly an appliance in evidence. A
large wooden work table has been assembled recently and placed to one
side, out of the way of the comfortable-looking chairs and couch near the
west-facing window. 
 	 << +views set >>
Obvious exits:
Out <O>



Someone knocks from Main Room -- Telegraph Hill Custom Clockworks.

Monroe shouts, "Come in, Willow."

Willow enters from the front part of the converted house.
Willow has arrived.


Muirinn enters from the front part of the converted house.
Muirinn has arrived.

Willow smiles. "Hi." she beams. "I brought a friend. Muirinn bani Verbena,
meet your host, Monroe Dennison bani Etherite." she chuckles. "You two
make nice-nice, ok?"

Muirinn enters, glancing around curiously. She smiles somewhat shyly at
the new face and grins at Willow's introduction. "Yes'm. Good to meet you,
Monroe." She turns her attention to him, offering her hand.

Iestyn enters from the front part of the converted house.
Iestyn has arrived.

Monroe is laying out a feast on the table, apparently. The pungent smell
of chili relleno, a large pan of enchiladas, a smaller dish of tamales,
homemade tortillas and tortilla chips, a stoneware bowl of chili and
another of salsa. The moment the door closes behind them a small timer
goes off and he withdraws a pot of beans from the burner. He bows at his
head and shoulders, shaking Muirinn's hand gently. "I am pleased to meet
you, Muirinn." he says in his even, cadenced, unplaceable accent. There's
easy, slow jazzy music coming from a box on his workbench, but it's
definitely not a radio.

Muirinn is a beautiful girl, standing about 5'7". She has long, bright red
hair that flows down to her waist in waves. Her bright green eyes are
attentive, and she has a very pixie-esque face: pointy chin, high
cheekbones, a heart-shaped face. She's wearing a dark green broomstick
skirt with a white peasant shirt. Her feet are in granny-boots, and she
looks almost like a hippie, minus the love beads of course. She has a
constant smile at her lips and looks to be daydreaming or pondering things
almost all of the time.

Iestyn steps into the room, looking around at those gathered with a
pleasant, soft smile. "Am I late?" he asks, his smile growing a bit wider.
Iestyn looks...different... and much the better for it. If fact, its
difficult to recognize it as him, though the features are still there,
along with the taste in clothing.

Willow smiles warmly at Monroe, stepping over to him. She gives Iestyn a
brief, flicked glance, then double takes. Then she hehs, a touch uneasily.
"Someone experimenting with Better Body, eh?" she says, and steps a bit
closer to Monroe.

Muirinn glances over to Iestyn and her eyes light up slightly. She smiles
at him, her eyes taking in the changes.

Monroe recognizes Iestyn instantly - maybe it's by clothing. "Iestyn. You
look marvelous, and no, you are not late at all, sir. Come in, come in."
he says in a welcoming tone.

Iestyn
	Iestyn is a tall, thin man, looking to be somewhere in the
neighborhood of six feet of height. He has soft brown hair pulled back
into a ponytail, bound behind his neck and tucked in the old style, with a
small piece of silver jewelry holding it together. Soft, cream colored
skin rounds out his pleasing features, which melt into his warm smile and
the youthful energy his eyes seem to be filled with. Blue and soft, there
is still something within them that speaks of wisdom and careful thought.
The cut of his brow and chin are smooth, and highly flattering to the male
form. Beneath his face, his body is thin but muscled, and his shoulders
are wide.
	A white knitted sweater falls causually around his torso, the
various patterns inheirant in its creation forming ripples of elevation
across its snowy color. Beneath, white slacks fall to black shoes, which
look like they would be more practical for hiking than for anything else.
On his right hand he has a small green ring, and around his neck there is
a necklace, though the pendant is concealed by his sweater.

Willow looks vaguely uncomfortably, but not like she's willing to let it
spoil her good time. She turns determinedly to Monroe. "Do you need any
help?"

Muirinn edges a bit closer to Iestyn and leans in to whisper something at
him.

Monroe touches Willow on the arm tenderly as she comes near him. "No, all
is in readiness, I think." he says. "We may have some other guests
arriving later - there is another pan in the oven for them that I'll start
warming in a moment, if they're going to arrive." (FYI, the dog from the
front room is curled up in a massive heap under the iron staircase and the
box producing the music is about the size of a breadbox and has a number
of incomprehensible dials, carefully marked switches, levers and springs,
and appears to be wound with a key in the side.) "What would you prefer to
drink?" He asks this of Willow, then turns to everyone a little bit
afterwards as if he really wanted to ask them too.

Iestyn laughs slightly to Willow. "Not experimenting, Willow. Succeeding."
He steps int and nods, taking a position behind one of the chairs, where
he waits, holding its back, resting his hands on it getly.

Iestyn looks at Monroe at the comment about drinks and smiles. "Water for
me. And then I'll just..." he makes a motion with his hands, waving them
slightly. "Have whatever suits me at the moment."

Willow smiles. "Do you have any sangria on hand?" Why is she asking? Of
course he does. "I can take care of getting people's drinks if you like."

Muirinn tilts her head.. "I think I'll just have some ice water.. thank
you."
Willow nods to Muirinn. She looks to Monroe, trying to figure out if she
should just sit down and let him do his thing, or if she should help.

Monroe pauses and nods slightly - Willow seems so eager that he is willing
to acquiesce. "The water is in the Filtrator jug and you know where the
sangria is. I'll just have coffee." Just as Willow reaches the counter,
the coffeepot stops dripping and the hot plate clicks on.

Monroe gallantly pulls out a chair for Muirinn.

Muirinn smiles and delicately seats herself, rather revelling in being
pampered.

Willow seems to feel oddly better to be doing something, and starts
gathering drinks. "Iestyn? What will you be drinking? This sangria is
lovely."

Iestyn smiles to her, still standing. "Water, for me," he says. "There's
no reason to use anything else. I'll just..." He shrugs. "I may just have
something different with each sip. I haven't decided yet." He smiles and
chuckles a bit. "One of the disadvantages from coming from Cymru... no
national drink to get comfortable with."

Monroe gestures easily to Iestyn's chair and smiles to him. "There is no
need to do so on my account." he says cheerfully. "I don't mind washing as
many glasses as you would like drinks for." He's half-teasing, of course.

Willow nods amicably, and brings everything over with the ease of a
waitress. Of course, she might as well be one, being the Tea Queen of
Larson.

Iestyn laughs. "I'll be fine," he says, nodding. He takes his water from
Willow and sets it on the table, gently, still hovering behind his chair.
Idly, he reaches into his pocket and produces a small bag of stones.
Sifting through them, he finds the right one and plops it into the glass.
The water shimmers for a moment, then becomes still. "Thank you, Willow,"
he says, politely.

Monroe pulls Willow's chair out gracefully, then leans over to the oven
and turns it on again without explanation, then returns to sit at the head
of the table. "Please help yourself - I always make too mcuh food when I
have guests."

Muirinn takes her water from Willow and sips it delicately. "Thank you..."
she says softly.

Willow realizes something as she stares at the two Celts <tm>. "You two
have never had Mexican food, have you?" she asks, suddenly delighted.

Muirinn grins at Willow. "Once, right after I came to the states.. but it
didn't look or smell nearly this good."

Iestyn smiles and shakes his head to Willow. "I can't say that I have," he
admits. "It isn't... is it something I need preparation for?"

Willow seats herself as she assures Muirinn, "I don't think it can get any
better then his - save perhaps, the cooking of a native." she says
proudly. To Iestyn, she confesses, "It is sometimes rather spicy."

Muirinn giggles at Iestyn. "The only thing you might need is something
afterwards in case its really spicy.. but we have that covered." She grins
impishly.

Monroe chuckles a little. "No, no, sir, not at all. Some of it is spicy,
but I will give fair warning for each dish." He smiles at Muirinn's
compliment. "I lived for a few years in Mexico and it is one of the skills
I learned."

Iestyn nods, sliding into his chair now that Willow has, and he adjusts
his position for just a moment before nodding, "I suppose I can handle
spicy," he says, smiling. "I imagine it makes the entire meal just a bit
more exciting."

<OOC> Monroe says "Actually, we probably all said 'spicy' at the exact
same moment. Considering the surroundings."

Muirinn grins and pats his hand. "You'll like it.. it makes our food
almost seem, well, bland in comparison."

Monroe grins. "Yes." he says. "Very much so. And a cigarillo and coffee
afterwards." He dishes out an enchilada, a tamale, and a generous helping
of the side dishes onto his own plate. "Be careful, the pan is quite hot."
He looks to Muirinn. "Are you also new in the city?"

Willow offers to take Muirinn and Iestyn's dishes to give them helpings,
smiling in almost as much anticipation for them to have their first taste
as she is for her own.

Iestyn smiles toward Muirinn as she takes his hand, then he lifts his
glass, pausing for a moment as he looks at it. The water shimmers,
becoming darker, and he takes a sip. He looks at his plate, then at
Monroe. "What do you recommend?" he asks, before pausing to let Muirinn
answer.

Iestyn nods, smiling to Willow silently and accepting her invitation, so
that Muirinn can continue without interuption.

Muirinn nods. "I just arrived here in the states a couple of months ago.."
her expression wavers for a moment, and she takes another sip of water.

Willow gives Iestyn some nice helpings, deciding in favor of moderation.
In short, he gets 'a little bit of everything'. She holds her hand out to
Muirinn to see if the young witch wishes for her to load up her plate as
well.

Monroe says easily, "The enchiladas will give you a good start - and a
tortilla to help pick up the extra vegetables, sauce and cheese." He looks
back to Muirinn. "Well, welcome to the shores of the Republic." he says
with an easy smile. "My father made the same journey, though from
Scotland."

Willow

	To her utter dismay, Willow is perpetually cute, and there's
simply no other word for it. While not boyish, her frame is still
lightboned and delicate, her face an oval of porcelain skin capped by
coppery red hair which has been plaited into a pair of braids on either
side, curling forward slightly and resting on her shoulders. Her bangs
have been left loose to fall loosely on either side of her face, framing
her eyes. They are a warm brown color with hints of gold flecks, her brow
usually furrowed in thought, with a nose slightly upturned and dusted with
a smattering of freckle. She has a wide smile that lights up her face, and
her voice is soft and often tentative unless she's discussing something
particularly fascinating to her. All in all, she looks like she's no more
than 16, much to her utter consternation.
	A wool sweater of rich royal blue has a scooped neckline and elbow
length sleeves. A sleek, leather banded watch with an overlarge face rests
on her left wrist. Her skirt is the royal Stewart plaid of greens and
blues, wrapped faux-kilt style and pinned with an overlarge, golden pin
keeps it clipped to one side. Dark stockings outline the length of her
legs, ending in a pair of ankle boots with only the slightest heel.

Muirinn grins and hands Willow her plate.

Iestyn smiles, taking the plate from Willow with a silent nod and a thank
you. He looks down at the food, not certain where to begin, and smiles.
"So he took a trip much like I did, then..." he comments, curious. "Did he
sail out of Southampton?"

Muirinn smiles. "Thanks.. my parents always wanted to come to the States,
but they couldn't really afford to while my sister and I were young, and
now.." she sighs and shrugs.

Willow takes it, looking at Monroe out of the corner of her eye in
pleasant suprise as she learns a new detail about his background. She goes
ahead and gives Muirinn a sampling like Iestyn's.

Iestyn reaches out a hand and takes one of Muirinn's as she comes to that
part of the story.

Muirinn glances over at Iestyn with a thankful look on her face, but
remains silent. She squeezes his hand slightly.

Monroe says easily, "You know, I'm not certain. He rarely spoke of
Scotland." He notices the comforting hand, and looks at it a moment, but,
politely, doesn't ask.

Iestyn releases Muirinn's hand gently, as he returns to conversation. "I
was the first in my family to come over here as well. Though I can't say
for lack of monetary resources, so much as a lack of need or desire.
Something told them, and me, that my place was in America. And certainly,
it is."

Muirinn places both hands in her lap and ponders her plate for a moment.
She sips her water.
Someone knocks from Main Room -- Telegraph Hill Custom Clockworks.

Monroe rises gracefully, laying aside his napkin and slipping over to the
door to open it.

Willow starts to fork some enchilada, and then pauses, looking to Monroe.
She sets it down to see who enters.

You paged Xerxes with 'The door is opened. (+view the dog if you haven't
before, he's in the back room sleeping under the stairs ICly.)'.


Xerxes enters from the front part of the converted house.
Xerxes has arrived.

Monroe closes the door behind Xerxes. "Ah, Professor, welcome." he says
with a smile. "May I take your coat?"

Willow starts to rise when she sees Xerxes, offering him a smile. "Good
evening."

Xerxes nods, "Of course. Thank you." He slips out of his coat to hand it
to Monroe. "I trust I am not too tardy?"

Iestyn is sitting at the table, pondering the food set before him. He sets
his glass down as he notices Xerxes, the small pebble inside spinning for
just a moment. He stands to his feet almost automatically when Willow
rises. "Good evening, Professor," he says.

Monroe shakes his head. "Not at all." he says gallantly, hanging Xerxes'
coat in the closet. As he returns to the table, the oven timer buzzes
briefly and Monroe withdraws a much smaller pan of enchiladas, tamales,
beans and tortillas from the oven. Just enough for one fairly hungry
person. "Please, sit down." he says genially. "What would you like to
drink?"

Xerxes nods to Iestyn and Willow, "Good evenign to you both."

Xerxes steps over to the table and has a seat, surveying the offerings
with a curious eye.

Xerxes turns to Monroe's question, "Ah, what is being offered?"

Iestyn slowly lowers himself back into his seat as he notices Willow
decide not to stand, and nods, sitting back slightly as he takes another
sip of his drink, letting the others talk.

Monroe must have labored for hours, either that, or cooked about five
things at once. It is, in short, a feast. Homemade tortillas and tortilla
chips, even. "I have sangria, soda, water, coffee - if you are a purist
like myself - a few miscellaneous juices and such."

Willow murmurs, "Sangria, water, coffee...you met Muirinn bani Verbena at
that little impromptu get together, right?"

Muirinn glances up from pondering her plate and smiles. "Hello again,
Professor.."

Monroe says 'sangria', 'water' and 'coffee' at the same time Willow says
it, since he's saying it a little faster.

Xerxes nods to Muirinn, "yes, we have indeed met. Good evening."

Xerxes says "Sangria would be most welcome, thank you."

Willow looks at Monroe a moment, her lips pressing tightly together to
keep herself from bursting into a chuckle. She asks Xerxes with the edge
of that laugh in her voice, "Have you sampled Mexican cuisine before,
Xerxes?"

Iestyn nods to all of them, waiting politely and quietly. Odd, for him.

Monroe pours Xerxes a generous helping of sangria. "I always make too much
food," he tells Xerxes, "so please, indulge yourself." He re-seats himself
at the head of the table.

Xerxes answers Willow, "I must confess I have not. I am not quite certain
where to begin."

Iestyn smiles toward Xerxes and nods. "You'll be in the majority," he
says, pleasantly. "This is a new experience for myself and Muirinn as
well."

Muirinn smiles and continues pondering her plate, wondering if she should
dig in.

Willow promptly fills a plate for Xerxes, and then raises her fork in a
gesture, and proceeds to demurely tuck into her food, eating slowly so
that others may copy by her example. She occaisionally pauses to guague
reactions to one dish or another.

Monroe grins. "Begin with an enchilada and a tortilla. They are simple and
addictive as any opiate. Dip a tortilla into the salsa and enjoy it. This
salsa is very hot, this one? Only a little."

Muirinn picks up a tortilla and begins dipping into the hot salsa. She
takes a bite and makes an "mmmm" of pleasure. She repeats the procedure.

Xerxes seems to appreciate having an example to emulate. He nods to
Monroe's direction and begins to "dig in" as it were.

Iestyn looks over toward Monroe and nods, smiling. He picks up a tortilla
and dips it into the hot salsa, right after Muirinn. He takes a bite of it
and pauses for a moment, savoring the taste. Suddenly, his eyes open wide
and the liquid in his glass /instantly/ turns clear again. He takes a
decent size drink of it and smiles. "That is spicy," he admits.

Muirinn polishes off the tortilla, then takes a small bite of the
enchilada. Another "MmmMmmm.." of pleasure deep in her throat, and she
takes another, bigger bite.

Xerxes is poised to sample the salsa as he pauses and asks, "What exactly
is salsa?"

Willow beams, as much in content of her food as she is in peoples'
responses. "Tomato, peppers, and...?" she looks questioningly at Monroe.

Muirinn glances over at Iestyn with a devilish glint in her eye and a big
grin. She gets a large spoonful of the hot salsa and plops it onto her
enchilada and continues eating it.

Monroe nods to Iestyn. He looks to Xerxes. "Well, it's /mostly/ tomatos,
but there are a number of other spices... you mix it and let it sit for a
few hours, mix again, add more and different spices, more or less to
taste. You can buy jars of it at the grocery market, of varying quality."

Iestyn nods, taking another gulp of his water. "Its hot," he tells Xerxes.
"Be ready for it." He takes another tortilla, and dips it into the mild
variety, adding, "It is tasty, though." He eats the chip, enjoying the one
much more.

Monroe is very pleased and proud at the response his food is getting. He
himself eats slowly, and says easily, "How are all of you tonight? Today
was very slow at the shop, but this allowed me to catch up on my reading."
(Apparently he's learning Willow's phrases as well as her timing.)

Xerxes hmms and considers this and takes the plunge. He them eats part of
the tortilla so seasoned and chews thoughtfully.

Xerxes hmmms, "Peppers." He addes a moment later, "Of a variety unfamiliar
to me."

Iestyn laughs slightly at Monroe's question, then smiles. "I had a bit of
difficulty last night, but other than that, everything has been relatively
dull."

[Monroe disconned.]

Willow ohdears. "Bardon's wife. Was she annoyed?"
Willow seems to expect her to be annoyed.

Iestyn shakes his head. "She... was friendly and understanding, until I
admitted to being able to see her aura. Then... out of nowhere, she grew
angry. Almost to the point of violence. For a moment, I was fairly
concerned. She didn't strike me as a weak woman."

Xerxes arches an eyebrow at Iestyn's news and comments, "I have had the
pleasure of her acquaintance."

Xerxes says "Odd that she should be so provoked."

Monroe nods. "Three parts jalapeno, two parts poblano, one part tomatillo,
and..." He's about to go on, explaining to Xerxes about his salsa, but he
gets sidetracked by the other conversation, listening intently.

Muirinn raises an eyebrow at the story, but continues eating.

Iestyn nods to Xerxes. "I tried to apologize, but she didn't seem to want
to believe me. In the end, she made me promise not to look at someone's
aura without asking first...but I don't think I could keep that promise. I
mean..." he sighs. "I've been looking at auras since I was a toddler. Its
second nature."

Willow says nothing, almost pressing her lips tightly together to do so. 
Finally she suggests softly, "I would best suggest staying away from her.
And I would also tell Bardon what happened were I you."

Monroe blinks. "Without /asking/? What kind of conversations does she
expect people /have/?" he says somewhat incredulously.

Xerxes turns to Willow, "You consider her dangerous?"

Iestyn nods to Willow. "I was planning on it. He works at the tavern,
right?" He pauses, adding, "The funny thing was, I was so groggy, I
couldn't even see her aura...and I told her as much."

Willow looks to Xerxes, and then says something to him in a clipped,
cadent tongue.

Willow then turns to the rest. "My apologies. Having a Hermetic moment."
she smiles, making light of it.

Monroe chuckles a little and shrugs generously, maybe he's used to it.

Muirinn grins.

Xerxes cocks his attention to Willow then simply nods, expression shifting
to the inwardly reflective.

Iestyn smiles to Willow, then to Xerxes. "We all know Verbena never have
those," he says, winking.

Monroe says mildly. "Of course not - they're limited to Hermetics. Hence
the name." He says it without a trace of being funny, then he grins.

Xerxes pauses a moment longer to regard Willow with a slightly quizzical
expression, but decides to leave it be.

Xerxes turns to Monroe, "Tomatillo?"

Monroe nods. "They look like tiny green tomatos - hence the name." he
says, blinking slightly at the return to his salsa.

Muirinn finishes off her enchilada and takes a sip of her water. She
glances around looking somewhat guilty (is she chewing too loud? slurping?
uh oh..) and puts her fork down for a minute. She dabs her mouth with the
napkin and takes another drink of water.

Xerxes nods, "Ah, yes, of course."

Iestyn smiles and nods to the conversation, reaching to take his glass,
whose liquid promptly begins to darken again as the heat leaves his mouth.
He takes a sip, then eats another bit of his enchilada.

Xerxes says "I do not balk at peppers, although our national favorite is
Paprika. It is more than a condiment, it is a way of life."

Willow seems satisfied with her portion as well, and lingers on her
sangria. It seems to make her slightly heady - or at least, relaxed. One
hand cradles the glass while the other rests idly on the surface of the
table while she listens to the conversation around her.

Muirinn deftly unwraps her tamale, laying the husk to one side. She digs
in, taking a bite of it with a forkful of rice.

Monroe chuckles a little. "Paprika is a fine substance." he says with a
grin, then turns to Muirinn. "How are they? The tamales are harder to
make."

Muirinn swallows. "They're very good.." she says honestly. "Though I can't
say I have much comparison." she smiles.

Xerxes chases the salsa sampling with some of the Sangria.
Xerxes raises his glass, "Excellent potable. My compliments."

Xerxes is doing his best to sample a little of each dish that Willow
provided for him, giving each its due consideration.

Monroe nods. "Thank you." he says to both, munching on his food in smaller
doses. "What exactly were you doing out there when you were discovered,
Iestyn?"

<OOC> Monroe says "Excuse me if he already told us. I bounced."

Iestyn smiles, continuing to eat, his appetite seeming fairly
undiminished, though half the plate is empty.

Muirinn finishes off the tamale and begins working on the rest.. she,
however, is beginning to slow down, though she's determined to finish
everything she was given.


Xerxes steadily works his way through his plate, sometimes relying on the
sangria to help quench the heat.

Willow inquires, "Anyone studying anything particularly fascinating? My
Matter studies are coming along quite nicely."

Muirinn finally admits defeat, most of her plate empty but for a few
remains of side dishes. She puts her fork down, takes a long drink of
water, then leans back in her chair a very contented look on her face.

Willow grins at Muirinn. "Make room for dessert. You will not be
disappointed."

Monroe sees Iestyn is too occupied eating to answer his question, and nods
to Willow. "I'm working on the Quintessential energies directly, now." he
says. "Somewhat more abstract, but I think rewarding. " He nods slightly
to Willow and grins. "Oh, and Alec and I are working on the idea about
Johnson's background that I showed you. Just theory...for now."

Muirinn looks at Willow, a somewhat stricken look on her face. "Good
Gods.. I guess I can find a way to make more room." She smiles slightly.

Xerxes says "I had the occasion to spar with Liu-Shen yesterday."

Iestyn smiles, continuing to eat while he answers Willow's question. "I've
been doing some work on the spirit world. I think that, should my
knowledge it increase just a bit more, I might be able to make a magickal
circle for rituals that is more real than simply just something to put my
mind in the right frame."

<OOC> Iestyn blinks and didn't see MOnroe's question. Eep. I must have
missed it.
<OOC> Iestyn sees it now.

Willow smiles at Iestyn, "You know, that sphere - and the application
you're describing - is one of my specialties. Despite difference in
paradigm, if you need any help, let me know." she chuckles a bit at
Muirinn and nods to Xerxes. "I visited her at the temple the other evening
as well."

Iestyn pauses, then nods to Monroe. "A basic ritual," he says, sighing.
"I'd headed off the main path into the forest because I felt I'd be able
to complete it without much bother from those nearby." He smiles and
shakes his head. "But luck wasn't with me, for some reason."

Xerxes says "She was gracious enough to compliment me, when one considers
how out of practice I am."

Iestyn turns to Xerxes, having answered Monroe's questio and smiles. "What
was that like?" he asks.

Xerxes turns to give Iestyn his attention. Holding his wine glass slightly
aloft as he considers, he finally pronounces it, "Intense." He sips the
sangria.

Monroe grins. "It /hurts/." he says, rubbing his stomach as if that's
where it hurt. Did /he/ spar with Liu-Shen, too?

Xerxes turns to Monroe, "How would you rate your experience?"

Willow comments softly, "Be careful if you're going to perform rituals in
the forest - at least, on that side of the city."

Iestyn nods to Willow. "Lesson already learned, but thank you."

Monroe grins. "It was very energetic, quite a fine piece of exercise, if a
little unfair."

Xerxes asks as though to seek qualification, "Unfair?"

Monroe laughs a little. "I was never much of a fencer to begin with - I
only learned because C..a good friend of mine insisted that I learn,
to...spar with him. Spar? Is that right?" he says. "Well, she set her
sword to attacking me on its own and kicked me unexpectedly in the
stomach. I lost my balance, of course, and smashed into the wall, knocking
over all sorts of things, and making a terrible mess and an awful racket."

Monroe doesn't give you the name of his good friend, for whatever reason.

Iestyn blinks, wincing in sympathetic pain. "That must not have been fun."
He shudders. "I hate to think what she'd do to me, with little to no
experience at fighting with a sword."

Xerxes nods, "Spar, yes."

Willow starts to rise, inquiring softly, "If everyone is done with their
main dishes, I'll be glad to take them?"

Xerxes says "The point of the test was to challenge you. Arguably, it
wasn't entirely fair, considering how out of the practice I am.
Regardless, such was not the point."

Iestyn rises from the table automatically, pushing his seat back slightly
as he does so. "I believe I'm done, Willow," he says, handing her his
empty plate. "Thank you." He nods to Monroe. "And thank you as well,
Monroe. It was excellent."

Muirinn glances to Willow and smiles, handing her her plate. "Thank you.."

Xerxes rises as well to offer his finished plate to Willow.

Willow smiles at Iestyn. "Dessert." she assures. "is the crowning glory,
but I will humbly allow our host to do the honors."

Monroe has just swallowed his last bite when Willow offers. "Yes, my
thanks." he says easily. He leans past her gracefully to turn on the oven
again. "You're very welcome." he says to Iestyn, then smiles again to
Xerxes. "I was challenged enough just trying to remember how to hold the
blessed thing."

You say "It has to warm - and dinner has to settle. It won't do to rush
things, they must happen in their own time."

Willow then adds in her best Jewish Mother voice, "So sit, sit and have
some dessert - how you gonna get a husband, you're so thin?" directed at
Iestyn. With a small laugh, she takes the plates into the kitchen.

Iestyn smiles and lowers himself back into his seat as Willow head off
into the kitchen, relaxing slightly back into his seat and grasping his
glass, to take a sip of, now, clear water.

Muirinn giggles.

Xerxes takes his seat again, turning to Monroe, "What is for dessert,
incidentally?"

<OOC> Monroe says "The kitchen is just a little corner of the big room,
there's no walls or doors or anything."
<OOC> Iestyn ohs. Ok. :)

Monroe nods. "Those tortillas - rolled a little thicker, and heated with
cinnamon and sugar." he says to Xerxes.

<OOC> Iestyn says "/Toward/ the kitchen, then."
<OOC> Monroe nods, a common mistake.

Willow makes her way back as Monroe answers, an anticipating grin on her
face as she retakes her seat. "They're marvelous." she assures.

Xerxes nods.

Iestyn rises again slowly as Willow returns, sitting again as she does, in
a smooth, automatic motion. "That sounds wonderful, Monroe," he says,
smiling.

Monroe blushes a little. "I'm afraid," he says, "that I cannot accept any
compliments for any dish which you have not yet tried. It will only take a
moment to heat them." He looks to Xerxes. "What was the challenge which
you endured? Did she release a rabid tiger, percahnce?" he says with a
grin.

Willow adds, "They also taste good lightly buttered."

Iestyn smiles somewhat to Monroe, then turns to Xerxes, curious.

Willow turns her attention to Xerxes as well.

Xerxes says "If you mean she invoked the Jade Tiger, yes."

Muirinn places a hand on her stomach and glances at Xerxes with everyone
else.

Monroe blinks. "No, actually, I was making a joke. What does a jade tiger
signify?"

Xerxes says "She stated that it was a question of fighting the hill,
fighting the mountain, and letting the mountain fall."

Xerxes says "I believe it to be a designation for one of the elements
within the Akhashic Brotherhood."

Monroe hms, not really understanding. "Oh." he says. "Yes, she also said
something of the kind to me, though I told her that there wasn't a
mountain, or a hill, or even much of a fight, considering the disparity in
our abilities."

Willow says "My knowledge of their terminology is limited." she remarks,
adding, "Liu-Shen wants to get together with Niles sometime. She's very
interested in seeing, as she puts it, 'we children get our house
together'."

Willow grins a little, finding the statement amusing rather then
insulting.

Iestyn nods to them all. "I know almost nothing of the Brotherhood," he
admits, shrugging. "But I will have to speak to her... she sounds like
quite an interesting person."

Xerxes says "From her perspective, the focus of the match was not winning
or losing, but to test your character."

Xerxes answers Iestyn, "She is."
Xerxes adds to Monroe, "And mine."

Willow nods. "She was extremely impressed with you both." she murmurs.

Monroe understands now - he looks thankful to Xerxes at first, then blinks
a little at him and lowers his voice. "Trial by combat?" he says. "Good
lord. I thought it was just an idle round. I don't take fencing very
seriously - it's an energetic diversion, good for the lungs and sinew...."
He suddenly rises and opens the oven - the wonderful smell of cinnamon and
butter drifts out into the room. "Would anyone like coffee with this?" he
says. He must have opened it at just the right time.

Muirinn forgets she's stuffed as the smell of cinnamon hits her nose and
her mouth begins to water. "Mmmm.. plese.."

Xerxes listens to Monroe without commenting until he poses his query about
drinks. "Please."

Monroe pours Muirinn and Xerxes a mug (black, plain, ceramic) of coffee
and brings out the tortillas - much larger and thicker than the ones used
during dinner. He lays out three of them, and lots of extra napkins. "Just
tear off a piece." he says, demonstrating. "It will get your fingers very
sticky."

Iestyn reaches forward to his glass, it turning a flat black. "Thank you,
but I already have some," he says, shrugging. "But please, thank you. I'd
love some of the tortillas."

Muirinn rips off a sizeable chunk and bites into it happily. She licks her
fings.

Willow nods to Muirinn. "I do that everytime." she says with a grin, and
helps herself, looking sidelong to Monroe with a small smile before biting
into her own.

Monroe is also swapping a conspiratorial little smile with Willow. He also
licks his own fingers, and uses the napkin only to wipe off the excess.
"Children /loved/ this. A favorite treat."

Xerxes reaches out to tear off a bit which he then samples, expression
showing his appreciation of the flavor.

Iestyn smiles and takes a piece of the tortillas, taking a bite of it and
smiling. "Very good, Monroe," he says, nodding. "Very good indeed."

Muirinn finishes off her dessert and takes a long sip of coffee. She sighs
and glances at her watch, wide-eyed. "Oh, my.. I really should go." She
looks around, slightly disappointed. "Thank you for dinner, Monroe.. it
was wonderful." She stands, wiping her mouth daintily.

Monroe grins. "It's easy, quick, and /addictive/." He rises and bows
slightly to Muirinn. "Please come and visit me any time." he says,
gallantly showing her to the door.

Willow smiles. "I'll see you, Muirinn. Let me know if you need help with
Spirit magicks, alright?"

Iestyn nods and smiles to Muirinn. "Good night, Muirinn," he says, warmly.
"I'll see you tomorrow."

Xerxes nods to Murinn, "Until later."

Xerxes nods in agreement with Monroe, "Remarkable in its simplicity."

Muirinn smiles sweetly at Monroe. "I just might.." She glances to Willow
and nods. "I'll probably come around, bugging you sometime.." she grins
broadly. She nods to Xerxes, then smiles shyly at Iestyn.. "Good night,
Iestyn.." She licks her fingers slightly and heads out.

Muirinn steps into the main area of the shop.
Muirinn has left.

Willow is daintily licking her own fingers like, well, a cat. At least
she's being discrete about it.

Xerxes turns to Iestyn, "Do you prefer your coffee hot or cold?"

Xerxes does -not- lick his fingers, but uses the significantly less
efficacious napkin he's been provided.

Iestyn smiles, looking at the glass, and his smile grows a bit wider and
he blushes. "Hot, if you could," he says, feeling a bit foolish. "I didn't
even think about that."

Xerxes reaches out with a hand, for the cup, "If I may?"

Iestyn nods, wiping his hands on his napkin before reaching for it, and
handing it to Xerxes.

Xerxes holds the cup steadily as a 'presence' developes around it ... this
presence slowly bending, then undulating like heat waves. Eventually,
steam begins to rise from the black surface.

Willow apparently considers propriety for dinner, but for this desert? It
calls for finger licking, Ms. Manners, be damned! She watches Xerxes with
a bemused smile.

Monroe returns to the table and sits gracefully. He doesn't eat much of
the dessert.

Xerxes offers the mug to Iestyn.

Willow murmurs, "Well done, Flambeau." softly, tilting her head slightly
to him in acknowledgement.

Iestyn smiles at Xerxes and smiles. "Thank you," he says, politely, taking
the glass back and setting it down, allowing it to cool a bit before
drinking.

Monroe nods slightly. "I learned to use the microwave device, finally." he
says with a grin. "As such effects are quite beyond me."

Xerxes nods back to Willow, "It is our element. Although I should like to
think that my service constitutes more than simple warming of coffee." He
smiles a bit.

Iestyn nods, taking a sip of the coffee now, grimacing slightly at its
heat, but smiling nonetheless. "I imagine," he says to Monroe. "I wonder
how many other things were invented while you were...gone. That you had to
catch up on in a short while. I felt like I had a lot to grow assustomed
to, but..."

Willow grins. "Fireballs at your service." she says with gentle good
humour.
Iestyn looks toward Willow and Xerxes and smiles. "But thank you,
Professor," he says, nodding. "I appreciate it."

Monroe nods to Iestyn, and indicates the door out with a gesture. "Did you
see the back of the door as you entered?" he says easily. "That's to
remind me that nothing is impossible." He tilts his head slightly. "There
are some things I am still trying to get used to. I am still learning
words, and faces, and things. It is like an entirely new land."

Willow murmurs, "Exciting. A little scary." between the dessert tortillas
and the sangria, Willow is happily, contentedly mellow.

Iestyn smiles and nods. "I did get a chance to read it," he admits. "Its
quite unmistakable."

Xerxes asks Monroe, "Might I have the time?"

Monroe says, without looking at a watch or clock (funny - there's no
clocks in the back room at all), "It's half-past two." he says.

Xerxes nods, "I fear I must be going then. My compliments on the cuisine
and hospitality."

You say "I am pleased to share both with you."

Willow smiles. "Thank you for coming, Xerxes. Shall I see you tomorrow?"

Iestyn nods and smiles. "Good evening to you, Professor Zapolya," he says,
politely.

Xerxes nods Willow, "More than likely, yes. Oh, before I take my leave,
have you any news as to Azura Frost?"

Monroe looks between them. "News?"

Willow admits, "Not as of yet, no. As I learn more, I will share what I
know." she looks to Monroe, then Iestyn, and then Monroe. "There is a
Chorister in town." she says quietly.

Monroe blinks. "She belongs to the Chorus?" he says easily...then /ohs/.
"Yes, that would explain several of her comments, I suppose."

Xerxes nods to Willow, "Thank you for assistance."
Xerxes says "Good evening, everyone."

Willow nods. "When I see her again, I'll arrange the meeting you asked
for. Good night!

Xerxes goes over to the closet to retrieve his coat and heads for the
door.
Xerxes steps into the main area of the shop.
Xerxes has left.

Willow remarks in passing to Monroe, "That went well." she smiles at him.

Iestyn smiles to Willow and nods. "Excellent," he says, smiling. "I can't
wait to meet her." He nods politely pushing aside his plate, finished.

Willow gives Iestyn a plainly disbelieving look, but replies
diplomaticaly, "I'm sure you can't." and then rises to take peoples'
plates.

Monroe nods to Willow. "Yes," he says, sighing slightly, it did. You
didn't even notice that he was tense when Xerxes was there, that's how
much poise and social grace he has. But when he sighs it slips right out
of him.

Willow does a bit of fiddling about in the kitchen corner; she stacks the
remaining dishes, then washes her hands. After doing so she rubs them
together - a subtle touch of magick makes them dry and warm them quickly,
and when she returns to the table, it is to stand behind Monroe, placing
her hands at the back of his neck and rubbing gently. She half leans over
to murmur to him, "It was wonderful."

Iestyn rises to his feet as Willow does, smiling to Monroe. "You ok,
Monroe?" he asks.

Iestyn pushes his seat back in, it seemingly plainly obvious that he
should stay this way. He nods to Monroe. "Indeed. It was truly excellent.
Thank you for your hospitality. I will have to offer it to you once I am
set up. Although..." he smiles. "I imagine my cuisine would be a bit
different."

Monroe nods slightly. "I'm fine, thank you. Xerxes and I have had rather
sharp words in the past." he says softly. "It is not the first time they
have been directed at me and I am sure they will not be the last."

Monroe grins. "I cannot wait to sample it, sir. I am pleased to have been
able to offer my table to you."

Iestyn smiles, then adds, "Professor Zapolya is a proud man, just as you
are a proud man. Who two such people come together...this is bound to be
dissagreement and conflict. I imagine it grieves him as much as you."

Willow stands behind Monroe, continuing to knead his neck with one hand as
much to assure him of her presense and support as is to ease the muscle
tension, the other resting on the top of his chair. She shoots a thankful
look to Iestyn, staying (perhaps prudently) silent.

Monroe lets out a little noise of pleasure despite himself, then colors
slightly. "Ah, yes...yes, I'm sure..." he murmurs. "I sometimes am unsure
of the social prohibitions of the time, and can become offended at the
smallest things. It is a fault."

Iestyn nods, remarking to Monroe. "His House has dedicated themselves to
combatting the enemies of the Traditions, including the Technocracy.
They're struggling to come to terms with the entire Sons of Ether no
longer being enemies. You must understand that it is as hard for him to
accept you as it is for you to accept friendship with mystics." He smiles
slightly, laughing. "Sometimes I wonder why you tolerate us at all. We're
not exactly normal by 19th century standards." He pauses, moving toward
Monroe to reach conversational distance. "He respects you, he just isn't
certain how to show it."

Yes. We call this 'prudent silence'. Willow smiles at Iestyn from her
stance behind Monroe. Keeping the hand at his neck, she steps around, and
perches a bit in his lap, the whole gesture casual. She doesn't seem to
think Iestyn will find it improper, and with a small nod of her head,
seems to encourage his line of speech.

Monroe nods slightly. "Well, he's made very personal remarks on a number
of subjects. But that is in the past and forgotten as far as I am
concerned...as to the other question, well..." he murmurs, arching his
back into Willow's hands. "I had little choice. Anything resembling my
experience, be it mundane, magical, or scientific, has disappeared and
been presumed dead for many years. I'm not a very religious person, so
from time to time I am confused and bewildered by the comments of the more
mystical among us, but that is only my ignorance. A few questions usually
suffice. " He doesn't appear upset when Willow comes into his lap.

Monroe's phone rings.

Willow pages: If you answer, page Xerxes.

Iestyn nods to Monroe. "It is a difficult amount of circumstances that
have brought you here," he says, slowly. "But remember... it is equally
difficult for us, especially those of us who make it their purpose to be
suspicious." He pauses, then nods. "Professor Zapolya is a warrior. As
such, he will trust you in time, so long as you treat him likewise."

Willow looks faintly puzzled at the phone, rising so Monroe can pick it
up, if he so chooses. But her hand lingers on his neck.

Monroe sighs heavily. "It's him." he says easily, then he looks to Iestyn
before picking up the phone. "I understand." he says. "It is perfectly
reasonable." He lifts the receiver. "Hello?"

Long distance to Xerxes: Monroe picks up the phone after a few rings.
"Hello?"

From afar, Xerxes's voice is low, as though he is concerned of being
overheard, and tinged with urgency, "Mr. Dennison, I do hate to pry, but
the matter is of considerable concern. Is Miss Rosenberg available?"

Monroe listens, then says, "Yes, a moment, if you will.." and covers the
receiver. "Willow." he says. "It's Xerxes." He looks no more pleased with
this than he was to let her get out of his lap, perhaps for the same
reason.

Long distance to Xerxes: Monroe says "Yes, a moment if you will.", and
then there is silence for a moment.

Willow frowns a bit, walking over to him and accepting the phone, her eyes
apologizing when her mouth becomes occupied as she speaks into it.

Iestyn nods, standing back to wait while they speak on the phone.

Willow blinks, eyes widening in suprise. Whatever Xerxes has said, it's
obviously disturbed her. "I'll be right there." she says.

Monroe leaves Willow behind a little and walks back over to the table. "I
hardly believe my story myself, some days." he says easily. "Some nights I
feel I will wake up and it will be summer in San Francisco, and all the
world still before me, and the infinite possibilities..." His rhapsody to
the old days, said with a certain irony that may have led to some more
specific words, is cut off by Willow's remark. "Has something happened?"
he asks when she has hung up the phone.

Willow is still on the phone, actually. ;>

<OOC> Monroe says "Okay, he just falls silent then."

Iestyn looks at Monroe and smiles. "The world is still filled with
infinite possibilities. The world is still before you. Its just a new
millenium, and Maine." He smiles and waits for Willow to get off the
phone, his eyes showing he is more concerned with what is happening there
than his words suggest.

Willow hangs up the phone. "I have to go." she says, troubled. "There's
apparently some girl in one of the buildings who seems to be in some sort
of fugue or dream state - she's in some sort of trance and writing things
across the chalkboards in one of the classrooms - things about the Outer
Realms, the Umbra. Xerxes needs my expertise, and well - approaching a
female in a near abandoned building is unwise.." she leaves it hanging,
approaching Monroe. She takes his cheeks in both of her hands, kisses him
firmly, and sighs, "I am so sorry, love - I promise I'll come back as soon
as I can, I swear..."

Iestyn looks up at her. "Would you like me to come as well? If she's
talking about spirit realms... she might be Wiccan."

Monroe murmurs something to Iestyn about cost, and truth, but he's too
distracted to really make it into a full conversational sentence, then he
somewhat snaps out of it. "That is true." he says. "But I am less
convinced today that I can apprehend fully the truth of things than I was
then. I was young then, and the world I lived in was young..." Again,
about to say more, but cut off by Willow. "If you would like us to
accompany you, I would be pleased to. Even if my knowledge of what she is
writing is not useful, someone ought to stand lookout."

Willow looks between the two. "Why not? Grab your coats."

Iestyn nods and smiles. "No coat," he explains. But he sits back to wait
for the others.





You walk up the cement steps, and enter the humanities building.
Main Hallway -- Humanities Building

	 This is the main hallways of the Rupert Hullman Humanities
Building. The doorways here are all ornate plaster archways, painted in
the French Renaiassance style. Fancifully framed portraits decorate the
wall, and floor is solid marble. Occasionally you pass a varnished glass
case displaying a multitude of institutional awards, plaques, and assorted
pieces of donated art. Students mill about between class, and teachers can
sometimes be found moving between room, usually carrying briefcases or
coffee mugs. 

Contents:
Willow
Xerxes
Dale
Obvious exits:
Out <O>  Faculty Wing <FW>  Lecture Hall <LH>

Iestyn walks in from the Main Campus.
Iestyn has arrived.

Willow slips in, Monroe and Iestyn flanking her, it would seem. She peers
along the darkened hallway, trying to make out Xerxes.

Xerxes is standing near a classroom door which is ajar. He puts a finger
to his lips and cautiously waves the duo forward.

Willow pads over as quietly as she can manage and peers.

Monroe comes in behind Willow, with Iestyn. He's wearing his thick
overcoat and scarf, though he's neglected to grab his hat in his hurry.
Watch-chains crisscross his breast as he moves quickly along, and very
quietly, considering his large size.

The clacking stops abruptly OOC: hi, guys -- this is a second before you
walked in, and the room is silent for a few moments. Dale, inside the only
lit classroom in this hallway, peers out into the hallway, but doesn't
move from where she's standing, well inside the classroom. She purses her
lips, and can be seen moving a little closer to the chalkboard, then
resumes writing, more surreptitiously this time.

Dale
	Not what you'd call the most obtrusive of women, Dale stands about
five-foot-seven at best. She is small-boned and crisply featured, with
that bone-china look that suggests generations of WASP breeding. Her hazel
eyes are just a few shades lighter than her chestnut-brown hair, which is
caught back into a four-strand plait and tied at the bottom with a maroon
ribbon.
	She's dressed for the most part casually, in tidy jeans and white
canvas sneakers, with a thick white T-shirt and a brocaded vest in shades
of maroon and blue. Dressed as she is, she could be anywhere from her
early twenties to the near side of thirty.


Willow eyes the chalkboard to see what is being written.

Xerxes steps aside so the others have an easier vantage to see.

Iestyn steps in behind Willow, without the coat or protection the others
seem to have. He stops when Xerxes motions for silence, and moves forward
slowly, glancing within the classroom, curiously.

Monroe looks too, but from a slightly greater distance, letting Willow
have the best view. He's apparently not hopeful about understanding any of
it. He looks at a pocketwatch, then puts it away with a graceful little
tuck into his pocket.

Inside the classroom, the chalkboard is a maze of odd names, both of
places and of people, interconnected by a web of dotted lines, solid
lines, double lines and arrows. "Algol," "Cimmeria," "Kadath," "Hugo
Gernsback" and the names of several Umbral realms are prominently
underlined. All but one of the Realms in question are ones whose names are
co-referential with mythological or folkloric locations.

Iestyn looks back toward Xerxes and Willow, not certain what to make of
this. He pauses, silently, watching her a little longer.

Xerxes gives Willow a look like 'See why I asked you to come'?

Willow mouthes, 'She's Awakened' to Xerxes, then continues to peer at the
board.

=->Auto Judge<-= In Dale's aura <with 3 successes> you see:
 09 Daydreaming......................................Sharp flickering
Colors
 33 Intellect-driven.........................Prussian changing to
Cornflower
 43
Spiritual...........................................................Gold
 47 Thoughtful.....................Sharp Colors move in slow waving
patterns
 50 Wondering.............Dark Blue changing between being mottled and
sharp
 
Its base appears to be Myriad sparkles.

Xerxes nods meditatively and looks on as well.

Iestyn looks at Willow, then looks back at Dale, taking a firm look at her
to be certain.

Monroe suddenly looks at the board like he understands it, or some of it.
Or /something/ up there. He says 'oh' quietly.

Willow straightens up, and then eases into the room, partially blocking
the view of the men outside. "Hello." she says easily. "You forgot Arcadia
Gateway. It should go there." she points.

From afar, to (Xerxes, Monroe, Iestyn): Willow is blocking her vision of
you - unfortunately, it works both ways. And it will only last a moment.

Xerxes looks on intently from the hallway.

Monroe mumbles something about permutations or combinations or /something/
like that. He doesn't even seem to notice Willow's blocking his view, like
he's not even looking at Dale or the chalkboard anymore.

Dale's hand arrests itself mid-scrawl, the unfinished phrase
"transformational mysticism of Christine de --" trailing off into a streak
of chalk. She spins and spreads her arms in front of the board in a futile
attempt to hide the drawing, but can't help following Willow's finger to
where she points, directly north of "Avalon". "Well, yeah, I'd assumed
that one in --" she splutters, before Better Judgment catches up with her.
"Wait. This isn't what you -- I'm just --"

The piece of chalk drops from Dale's hand and cracks in half on the floor.

Monroe looks on with...sympathy now? That's a little odd. But he says
nothing.

Iestyn looks in, trying to in vain to see around Willow's shielding, as he
listens to her speak to Willow, still curious.

Willow grins. "It's ok. My cosmology is a little weak, but I'm very well
practice, application wise." she offers her hand. "Willow Rosenburg. I'm
teaching here this summer... the gentlemen outside are similar in
practice, if not style." she tilts her head. "You are?"

Monroe checks a pocketwatch again, then adjusts one stem, then another,
then another. How many stems does it have? He winds it a bit, then pulls
out a little lever on the side. (OOC: As of now, Monroe is scanning the
hell out of /all nine/, yes, you read that right, /all nine/ spheres, in a
radius either fairly large or to be determined by rolling, should anyone
prefer that I roll. Anyone with Awareness that wants to detect it, can, I
have no objections. (It's very very very simple but really impressive in
its breadth.) If we're gonna talk mage stuff, Monroe wants to know if
anyone is coming.)

Xerxes cocks an eyebrow and looks at Monroe.

Rapidly reasserting something resembling composure, Dale brushes some
chalk dust off onto her vest and coughs once. "I am ... a bit startled, to
say the least," she manages, and pauses for a moment, staring intently at
Willow. "Oh," she remarks, after a second, then belatedly adds, "Dale
Carter."
Iestyn pauses for a moment, his eyes going toward Monroe, widening
slightly, then they turn back toward Dale and he takes a step into the
room with her. "Hello, Ms. Carter," he says, pleasantly. "I suppose
introductions are then in order, and not quiet scampering about in the
hallway." He offers a hand. "My name is Iestyn Prys."

Monroe steps back into the hall and watches down it intently. Then in
another direction, then another. He seems satisfied. "Nobody is here." he
murmurs to Xerxes. "Nobody is coming. I'll check again soon." He then
steps in with Iestyn and bows a little in response to Dale's introduction,
but doesn't give his own name until well after Iestyn has introduced
himself: "Monroe Dennison." he says.

Xerxes steps in, bowing his head, "Professor Xerxes Zapolya."

Dale's hand is a bit trembly as she accepts Iestyn's handshake, but her
resolved finishing-school posture at least tries to belie the fact that
she's just had the living daylights spooked out of her. "Pleased to meet
you," she replies graciously. "All of you -- though I do have to say I
wasn't precisely expecting visitors. I'm sorry if I seemed a little, er,
out of sorts just now."

Xerxes nods to Monroe.

Dale looked me over.

Monroe steps up to the chalkboard and looks it over carefully. "Not at
all. In fact, it looks very skillful. It's a structural iconograph, isn't
it? Or an analog of one..." That's not really a question, by the way.
Iestyn nods, smiling to her. "Its ok," he offers, comforting. "We
just...well..." he motions to Xerxes. "Professor Zapolya. Do you wish to
explain?"

Xerxes nods to Iestyn, "Perhaps that would be wise."

Xerxes turns to Dale, "Your writings, there. They speak of an arcane
knowledge, perhaps appreciation of things unseen."

Dale hooks a thumb into her vest pocket, stepping back away from the
board, which is now smudged where she'd backed up against it. "I suppose
you could call it that -- well, either of those. I'd thought of it as a
relational diagram ... though it's awfully difficult to represent in 2-D."


Xerxes says "I am curious if you belong to a group who have ... shall we
say, similar interests?"

Monroe nods slightly. "If you would like, I could copy it down and make it
into a model. I just finished creating one of a mental construct - this
can't be any harder than that." he says.

Iestyn looks over at Monroe, then back to Dale, his eyes watching her
expressions as she speaks with Xerxes about her drawing, which he only
understands in the vaguest terms.

Dale hesitates, perhaps not entirely sure how to respond to Xerxes'
inquiry. "Erm. Well. I don't think most of them are quite so interested in
-- hrm -- cartography, shall we say? -- but, well, after a fashion, yes."

Xerxes nods, "But you do belong to an association?"

Monroe starts to copy down what's on the chalkboard - quite openly, and
near Dale, so that she can object if necessary. He has a precise,
graceful, freehanded manner that pulls the tangles out into lines and the
curves into straight, zig-zagging angles, without losing a smidgen of
content. But he lets the conversation go, otherwise.

Dale nods, confident in that at least. "Assuredly, yes. Though I'm quite
recently arrived in the area." Her eyes dart over to Monroe's recopying
every few seconds, studying the way he sorts out her diagramming; at one
point she interrupts to say, "Sorry -- that one's supposed to be an
indirect link, I didn't erase well enough," but doesn't otherwise
interfere.

Monroe nods slightly and puts a little, angular-lettered 'ID' on the
drawing with his fountain pen.

Xerxes says "Might I ask the name of this association?"

Dale's face flashes uncertainty for an instant -- everything's been so
guarded up till this point, after all. She swallows once, and states, "One
might refer to them as Those Who Speak in Dreams."

Xerxes grins, actually, the spring uncoiling ever so slightly.
Xerxes says "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, then."

Iestyn smiles at that, in understanding. "That will make things much
easier," he says, nodding pleasantly, his eyes going to Xerxes to see if
he finishes things up, still feeling a bit out of his element at a
University.
Xerxes steps over to offer his hand to Dale.

Monroe nods slightly, also genially accepting, though he wasn't all that
tense before, just interested. He offers Dale a card. "I won't interrupt
you any more." he says easily to Xerxes and Dale. "Feel free to call on
me. I will be on my way - the more of us here, the more attention we will
attract."

Not so Dale -- her rigid posture stiffens a little more, betraying major
nervousness on her part -- which suddenly bleeds away into a very bemused
look as Xerxes turns out *not* to be some sort of horrible thing about to
snatch her up and tear her to pieces. "Pleasure's all mine," she replies
lamely, her hand kind of clammy as she accepts his hand.