You take it all away, but never give it back; and this is what you say: their lives are yellow-black

[samsara_dharma]

Out on the streets of Chicago, Karunamayee is wandering in crooked oblongs near the Kashtta Tower. She's still avoiding everyone's eyes, but she has questions to ask - she's just not sure what the best way to ask them would be. As a relative newcomer to Chicago, she missed everything going on in the Conrad Hotel basement, and this business with

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[xiaomei_mei]

April has decided, apparently, that now would be a good time to go see the Vesimer, so he can, y'know, see what he can do about her... problem.

So she's down in the basement, peeking over the top of the couch opposite the Vesimer's, and trying to be unobtrusive.

[the_vesmier]

The Vesmier is alert tot he world around him. He just doesn't look it. He registers April coming up, and greets her with a light brush, mind to mind.

[xiaomei_mei]

April smiles a little and scrambles over the back of the couch to sit on it, still looking at him. She brushes back, almost questioningly.

[the_vesmier]

The Vesmier opens his eyes, turning his attention to April as she sits near him. :: ? ::, he sens, over a general sense of Hello, good to see you.

There's not quite enough for him to know what she wants, but she seems to want something.

[archangelet]

The pedeconference comes somewhere near Tay and she watches it dubiously for a moment before falling in step just behind them. "What exactly are we arguing?"

Hey, if it might get her mind off her issues, she'd like that. A-heh.

[elashte]

Elashte lets her fall into step, and sighs. "Malek thinks it the height of bad judgement to speak with Ms. Takahashi in an effort to form a lasting peace," he says. "I don't share that sentiment."

Malek twitches visibly. Were he in raptor-mode his tail would be lashing, but he is smart enough to know that not a lot of arguing can be done in that state. "Sorry," he says at Tay, "but they're archangels, ja? Hunt demons, 's what they do. And we en't getting less demon."

[archangelet]

Tay raises an eyebrow at Malek. "Uh, hello? Notice me here? Notice no attempts on your life in the entire time we've known each other?"

Beat.

"Well, the once."

[homoraptor]

Malek, not exactly the most tactful person under the best of circumstances, has not become any better over the course of this argument.

"Ja, but. No 'fence. Born an' bred archangel, but didn't turn out it, na? You did turn out arch, bet we wouldn't be here for ice cream, would we?"

[techniclybrill]

Tosh might have developed a sort of sixth sense for when Owen is about to break something she'll have to fix. It's got nothing to do with the Rift, and everything to do with her own sanity. Then again, maybe it's just luck.

Nevertheless, not long after he pries open the lift controls, she appears, coming down the hall and frowning slightly. "Is it broken?" Or will it be soon, if he keeps poking at it?

[der_weevilkonig]

Owen glances back at her, giving her a moment's attention before he goes back to poking. "Not that I can tell," he says. "Good thing, too. Fewer lifts we have to repair, the better."

He pauses.

"We did actually repair that one that dropped me down to the Rift room, didn't we? It didn'r just sort of magically get better?"

He's fiddling with a transformer in the wiring which he may or may not want to be fiddling with.

[techniclybrill]

"I couldn't say," Tosh says, moving a little closer to see just what he's doing. "I wasn't around when it was fixed." She frowns a moment, and then shuts off the power to the lift control box with a thought. She doesn't want to explain to Gwen or Juliet how he got electrocuted. "If it's not broken, what are you doing to it?"

[der_weevilkonig]

Owen frowns at the box. He felt something, there, and given that the last time Toshiko was in the tower, she pretty much took control of it-

"Did you just do that?"

[sarkraticmethod]

The good news about the basement is that Sark can actually pace when he's feeling restless without having to resort to leaving the hotel, because apparently pacing in a controlled enviroment is preferable to wandering around outside out of boredom.

The bad news is that there just so happens to be in the same place as a certain (former) Angel of Knowledge, not that he actually has any intention of giving her anything even resembling a passing glance as he walks on by. Just a local. No interest to him, really.

Have at 'em, Dmi.

[nowinprint]

Dmitri is just pulling her nose out of what appears to be a supply closet when Sark passes, and she gives an appreciative gape. "Well, put me in a pallium and call me the Pope," she says, stepping after him. "Jules! Ju-ju-Julian Sark, the most tactical mustelid on that side of the Rift. I didn't know you were knocking around here."

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark pauses, briefly wonders if he's hallucinating, decides that he hasn't gone completely batshit crazy yet and gives Dmitri a look that's trying very hard to be flat, but it's rather hard, even for someone like him, to be expressionless when someone has just gleefully called you a tactical mustelid.

"Do I know you?" It really shouldn't be a question. He knows he doesn't, but it's about the only thing he can get out, because his brain is still in Did she just vaguely insinuate that I'm a weasel? mode.

[nowinprint]

"Eh, probably not. No one seems to," she says, sticking out a hand. "Dmitri Lang, Angel of Knowledge, you used to work with Daddy Bristow back home for me." She'll get around to the "alternate universe" thing... sometime. "'course, I haven't heard that he's around, here. Let me guess - unaffiliated?"

[emodebauhaus]

E is up to her elbows in creativity. The desk in her room is littered with papers and drawing implements, the table with odd bits of sewing gear.

The hotel juuuuuuuuuuust may find itself short a bedspread or two and maybe one housekeeping uniform.

Considering she still doesn't really know anyone here, one would think she might bother to lock her door. Still, that's no way to treat potential clients. At present, the door to the hall is open, making the space more like and office or workshop than a personal dwelling.

(Dare?)

[nowinprint]

Dmitri hasn't been paying much attention to the private rooms, but when a door is just standing open, it's only polite to stick your head in - for an odd, specific-to-Dmitri sense of "polite". She takes in the materials, the papers, the sewing accoutrements, and raises her eyebrows.

"So I guess the free Wanderer clothing wasn't so much your thing, huh?"

[emodebauhaus]

E looks up and offers a wry smile.

"I'm afraid clothing my size doesn't come pre-made." She adjusts her glasses and turns her full attention on Dmitri. "And you are, Darling?"

[nowinprint]

"Dmitri Lang, Angel of Knowledge," she says, even though she might not technically be an angel since coming through the Rift. Some things just don't go away, and for Dmitri Lang, the calling is one of them. "As for you, I'm guessing Wanderer, I'm guessing new enough not to be situated, here long enough to have accepted that you'll be here long enough to need to make your own clothes. From the gusto you're going at those sheets, I'm guessing you did this before you came here. Pretty right?"