View source for Log:Houston Convocation 2025-06-18

<-------------[ West University - Arcane Collegium - Great Hall ]-------------->

	The Great Hall is not quite so aptly named, as it may be tastefully furnished, it isn't quite so large. Running not much longer than a standard ballroom, the room itself is decorated to the taste of the founders, primarily the Order of Hermes. Each door and window frame have protective runes carved in them and covered with sealant so they retain their power. The windows do not open here, and those who have taken the time to extend their otherworldly senses will know that the windows are in fact illusory: this room is bordered by full walls.

	The room lays empty when not in use. Tables and chairs are removed, and the intricate patterns inlaid in the stone floor are rumored to have been the bane of many an acolyte's existence when required to trace their way through the entirety of the maze.

<------------------------------------------------------------------------------>

	The Great Hall has been transformed into a banquet hall. At the far end from the double doors that serve as a main entrance, there is a pair of long tables, each with three seats behind them, facing the room. Off to the right, acolytes hustle about, keeping the trays of hors d'oeuvres at the tables well-stocked. Most of the fare is simple but well-prepared: charcuterie, cheese, finger sandwiches. Someone in the kitchen must have a thing for American fare, as mini-corndogs somehow make an appearance. Filling the center of the room are round tables, six seats to a table. The furniture all has a rather simple look to it, but made of solid materials; ash wood makes up a large amount of the materials themselves, but well-polished.

	At this stage of the evening, the main six seats are currently vacant, and the members of the Chantry are allowed to mix amongst themselves and enjoy the refreshments before things start.

<---------------------------------^^ Daedalus ^^--------------------------------->

Arriving to the chamber in his ceremonial garb, Khafra has left his cane somewhere else. The aura around him is that of heat, as if he were the center of a fire. Looking around the room, he turns to the refreshments table and begins to collect himself a gathering of several things. Variety being the spice and all. He'll move towards the front to take a seat.

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

Rick walks into the great hall, wearing the formal robes of an Adept of the Order of Hermes, with the sash around his neck representing his house, that of Quaesitor. Behind him follows a woman of the same age, with very similar facial and body features wearing the white robes of a consor, the hem of her sleeves stiched with alchemical and astrological symbols, as well as a smaller sash around her neck indicating that she serves as an anamaous, or recorder. Neither one of them carry anything in their hands.

Rick looks around for a moment, Rick spots Khafra making his way to the food table, and a small smile forms on his face for a moment. He glances back at the woman and nods his head, then the pair of them also move towards the food. "Good evening.", Rick says politely to Khafra. "Tonight will be of great interest, I'm sure."

<-----------------------------------^^ Rick ^^----------------------------------->

Finch enters the Great Hall with quiet, careful steps, like a man unused to large gatherings but willing to endure them for a purpose. He wears his usual battered canvas jacket, sleeves pushed back to the elbows, revealing wrists dotted with old solder burns and faint ink smudges. His posture is loose but alert, shoulders relaxed, but chin tilted slightly as if always listening for some distant signal. A faint scent of machine oil and desert wind clings to him, mingling oddly with the aromas of food and polished wood.

Without hesitation or apparent hurry, Finch weaves his way toward the refreshments, skirting tight clusters of conversation with polite nods but offering no words. When he reaches the table, he pauses, eyes scanning over the spread, then carefully selects two mini-corndogs, as if testing their weight for some hidden value hefting each one in a different hand.

He sniffs one, briefly, in that strange way of his, as if expecting some signal from it, then eats it without expression. No comment. No smile. Just quiet observation. A battered stainless travel mug appears from the pocket of his jacket, and he takes a slow sip, standing near the edge of the room rather than sitting. He is apart from the others, but not avoiding them.

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

Brooks is wearing his usual get up with a simple pair of jeans, and shirt, but he has his shirt sleeves rolled up exposing more of his norse rune tattoos that run up and down his arms. His singular eye pans across the room as he enters, which isn't hard for him given his height advantage of the crow. 

Add to his height and figure is a black raven perched on his shoulder, and if permitted is carrying a spear as tall as he is, with its tip wrapped in a foam cap as a sort of 'peace knot.' Otherwise he looks grumpy, with the raven seeming to snicker at him.

<----------------------------------^^ Brooks ^^---------------------------------->

Kian enters through the double doors without fanfare, though the shift in air is immediate, subtle warmth blooming outward as if someone had opened a kiln and mixed with that of Khafra's. The Taftani is dressed casually in a deep indigo t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. The tattoos along his forearms catch stray light, shimmering faintly. At his side, Zahir moves, barefoot and bare-chested beneath a charcoal blazer, the sigils across his torso glowing faintly beneath the hall's Hermetic lighting. Kian pauses just past the threshold, eyes sweeping the runes, the sealed windows, the mazework floor beneath. A faint smile pulls at his mouth, wry and unsurprised. "Greetings," he murmurs to the group before starting forward and offering a polite bow of his head.

<-----------------------------------^^ Kian ^^----------------------------------->

	Sid arrives wearing something along the lines of the Hawaiian style shirt + business casual he wears literally every day, looking like something out of a Jimmy Buffett video. He offers the others already gathered a nod and a wave and helps himself to both the mini-corndogs as well as the fancier meats and cheeses on the charcuterie board along side a small dollop of honey mustard for dipping. He organizes this all on a plate and takes a seat somewhere, but obviously not on the stage. He stops one of the acolytes and politely asks if a glass of cranberry juice would be possible and the acolyte assures him that's not a problem at all. A scant few moments later and he has his cranberry juice. He quietly eats while waiting for the others to gather and the meeting to begin.

<-----------------------------------^^ Sid ^^------------------------------------>

Looking to Rick, Khafra offers a little bow of his head. There is a badge on his Wesekh shows him to be an Adeptus Major of House Tytalus. "Indeed, it should be a most interesting time." He offers to the other Hermetic. 

As the others enter, Khafra gives them an appraising eye. Maybe a mild bit of disappointment. "It's already proving interesting." He shakes his head a little, "Good to see you again." he says to Brooke, Sid, and Kian. His attention falls on Finch for a moment before he says, "Hello."

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

Finch lingers by the refreshment table, fingertips thoughtfully wiping themselves on a folded square of brown paper tucked into his sleeve. He moves without urgency, observing the room. When Khafra’s greeting lands on him, Finch glances up, expression unreadable save for a slight narrowing of the eyes that suggests momentary recalibration. 

"Hello," Finch answers, his voice low and distinct, a liquid velvet drawl touched faintly with subtle vocal fry, the familiar voice of the Night Finch for anyone who keeps odd hours or hunts the dial for strange frequencies after dark. He inclines his head, not quite smiling but not unfriendly either, then lifts his travel mug in a loose gesture of acknowledgment to the group at large, before drifting to the edge of a nearby table to claim his own seat.

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

Gathering two small plates, Rick starts putting some meat and cheeses on each before handing one to the woman. "Here, Jenn.", he says to her before he turns his attention back towards Khafra. He follows the other Hermetic's gaze, then looks back to him with an impassive face. "As the many stars in the sky.", he just says simply, with a little shrug of ambivalence.

Turning to Brooke, Rick looks upward at the man and his Raven, taking note of the knotwork and rune tattoos. "Good evening.", he says politely to the giant of a man. "Adept Richard James Thadius Young the Fourth, bani Quaesator, Ordo Hermes. Gesturing to the woman he then says "This is my sister and consor, Jennifer Young." She smiles and dips her head in greeting as well, but doesn't speak, partially because it's not really her place too, also because Rick had timed the introduction just perfectly that she has a mouthful of sliced salami.

<-----------------------------------^^ Rick ^^----------------------------------->

	It is said that you can learn many things from a man by the way he dresses. That is certainly true of Graham this evening, if one happens to speak the language of Hermetic symbolism. Actual robes drape from the slender shoulders of the Professor, a heavy linen dyed to the Switzerland of colors: grey. Lining the hem and sleeves are embroidered various arcane sigils in a few stark colors: some black, some blue, some red, some silver. (If you happen to know Enochian and want to read them, page me!) Somewhere beneath the robe are a pair of simple shoes made of canvas and rubber, died to that same grey tone. Along the collar down the front of the robe are the symbols of his Order and House (Bonisagus).

	Sweeping steps bring him not toward any other person, at least, not at first, but instead head directly for the refreshment table and pluck up a glass of water. That's a thing that's going to be needed, for sure. But with that bit complete, he turns on his heel and silently surveys the crowd for a moment, his steps more idle than determined as he moves toward the back of the room. So many details to consider, after all.

<----------------------------------^^ Graham ^^---------------------------------->

Kian makes his way further into the hall, the warmth trailing in his wake subtle but distinct, threading between polished ash tables and murmured greetings. "Kian Ardalan Farrokhzad," he offers aloud now, voice smooth and musical. "Zaotar of the Taftani, Herald of the Desperates as I've been named by the Traditions and my peers here in Houston and keeper of the Ember Veil... a hookah lounge."

There is a pause before he continues, "This is Zahir... known by some as The Ember of the Desert Winds, my shadow." A slight gesture to the man at his side, whose ember-lit eyes scan the room with calm alertness. Kian's gaze drifts across the room, nodding to those he knows and smiling to those he's just meeting. "We're pleased to be among our fellows, especially here in this place."

<-----------------------------------^^ Kian ^^----------------------------------->

Brooks nods to Rick before giving his introduction, "Brooks Dahl, follower of Odin, practitioner of the Seidr and Galdr ways, i am a member of the Verbena." He motions to the Raven, "this is Hrafnson my famili-" the sentence doesn't finish as the bird suddenly flys and lands at Finchs table, speaking in a cracked voice, "NIGHT FINCH! NIGHT FINCH! I hear your words at night!" Brooks grumbles and apologies to Rick and walks to retrieve his bird.

<----------------------------------^^ Brooks ^^---------------------------------->

	Sid watches with amusement as the bird crosses the room to yell at people, while enjoying his charcuterie and mini-corndogs. He nods and greets people as they come in, but is mostly content to eat and drink and be merry.


<-----------------------------------^^ Sid ^^------------------------------------>

Finch glances up as the raven lands near him. When the bird caws out, the corner of his mouth quirks into something almost like a smile. The voice is familiar. Recognized, clearly, by those who don’t sleep, “Finch,” he offers simply, “Known to some as The Night Finch, on the late bands.” He lifts a hand in idle gesture, as if toying with invisible frequencies.

“Society of Ether. Wandering technomancer. Broadcaster of inconvenient truths." His gaze flickers briefly to the raven, amused. "And apparently... received in the avian demographic." He gives Brooks a slight nod of respect as the man moves to collect the raven. “Sharp familiar. Picks up the carrier wave better than most.

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

Definitely and interesting gathering. Khafra sees Graham and offers him a smile and wave. "Good evening, Graham." Khafra offers in a friendly tone. 

When Finch offers his introduction, Khafra will turn to him and offer a nod of his head, "Well met, Finch of the Ether." He smiles, "Adeptus Major Khafra Ramses bani Tytalus, Ordo Hermes."

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

"NIGHT FINCH! NIGHT FINCH! VOICE SMOOTH AS HONEY! BUT BEST YOU WATCH IT OR ELSE HE-YRK!!" what ever the raven WAS going to say is cut off as Brooks grabs the bird, giving it a glare. "Behave, or I'll send you outside." he grumbles to it, hrafnson giving a muffled' sorry' before returning to his shoulder. Brooks turns to Finch, "he plays with a radio at night..."

<----------------------------------^^ Brooks ^^---------------------------------->

	Graham raises a glass to Kian as the man formally introduces himself, but the Hermetic decides to keep to himself for now. After all, everything will likely be laid out before them soon. But what ends up grabbing his attention is the Hawaiian Shirt, and he can't help but crook a grin before making his way over to Sid's table, gesturing to a seat. "Room for another?"

<----------------------------------^^ Graham ^^---------------------------------->

Rick notes some people starting to find seats, then says to Khafra "Shall we sit, and do we know any specific seating order?"

<-----------------------------------^^ Rick ^^----------------------------------->


Gesturing to the front, Khafra says, "That's my prefered seating." He'll move to the front table. "Though, I wouldn't sit just yet." He says, as much for everyone else's benefit.

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

Tirth is here. Over there. Somewhere. standing by a chair. A bit like a bear. Over there. He offers a wave to those that he knows, and makes note of the people he still needs to meet. Otherwise, he seems to be happy where he's placed for the moment.

<----------------------------------^^ Tirth ^^----------------------------------->

	At some point, as refreshments and conversation flow, that the door at the back of the room opens, and faces both familiar and not begin to file through.

	The first is a woman short of statue but firm of appearance, blonde hair cropped at just below the ear, with features that are distinctly Eastern European. Beads decorate her wrists and neck, and as she seems to glide her way over to her seat, the flowing skirt of her beige brocaded dress of a distinctly Hindi style is gathered so that she might take a seat. Her dark, unyielding gaze takes in the crowd, but any opinions are lost behind a facade of stone.

	The second is a man slender of build but tall of stature, a well-kept beard of brown matches his sun-kissed nothern european features with the crow's eyes from perhaps just a bit too much smiling. He'swearing a simple set of brown Carhart pants and shirt, with pockets -fucking everywhere-. He moves to the far end, opposite the blonde woman.

	The next is a man of decidedly asian descent wearing a suit that looks like it walked itself right in off of Saville Row. A deep navy with thin grey pinstripes, the man moves away from the door and to one side, trailing behind the taller one to take a seat beside him.

	Next comes a priest. No, really, a priest. Black robes hang from his shoulders, along with a stole of bright blue carrying not a single stich of decoration. None of that seems to pull away from his smile, however, the only one so far that looks genuinely pleased to be in attendance. There's a sparkle to his brown eyes as he surveys those inside, and there is a slight jump and he turns to look over his shoulder, muttering some apology before making his way to sit beside the blonde woman.

	Next is a figure that some have seen before, that of Master Tran Tuan Kiet, her cermonial robes dyed the brightest yellow. A smile works its way across her features, the expression bringing a certain youthful vitality that would make her true age impossible to guess. With a few quick steps, the asian woman makes her way to sit beside the asian man, but rather than sitting in the chair she simply rests a hand on the back, waiting silently.

	The final entrant to the room, closing the door behind him, is a man wearing ceremonial robes as well, his own reaching down to the ground. The robes are brown, and carry no decoration to them, save for a stole with the symbols of the Order of Hermes and House Tytalus embroidered on each end. His dark hair, blue eyes, and sharp features would be more at home on a movie set than in some dusty chapter house... although maybe that has something to do with the wicked scar that starts at his left cheekbone and curves down toward his chin, creating a small misalignment to his left chin that doesn't quite fit.

	"Please, ladies and gentlemen, have a seat, and we can get started." The voice that rings out from the scarred man is firm and direct, the kind of voice that is used to both being listened to and obeyed, the man carrying the kind of rigid posture that betrays a military history. However, as the others take their seats, the scarred one, who could only be Master Darius Warren, remains standing, waiting for the room to settle.

<---------------------------------^^ Daedalus ^^--------------------------------->

	Looking up from his mini-corndogs and charcuterie, Sid nods, "Yep. Plenty of room at the table. Have a seat." He takes a swig of cranberry juice and motions to a chair.

<-----------------------------------^^ Sid ^^------------------------------------>

	Graham is content enough to sip his water, nodding once when the pony-tailed man offers up the seat. "Disciple Graham Alexander Silas Gammon, ordo Hermes, bani Bonisagus." Yep, all of that is his name. Pulling out the chair and taking a seat, he raises his chin to point to the man across from him. "What's in the glass?"

	But just then, the announcement comes across the room, and Graham turns in his seat, placing his glass on the table. By all appearances, his attentions are focused on the speaker, although those watching closely will spot his grey eyes taking in each of the six that are at the front before centering again on the newly-appointed Chancellor.

<----------------------------------^^ Graham ^^---------------------------------->

Kian returns Graham's lifted glass with a nod of quiet acknowledgment and a friendly wink then watches the procession of elders and strangers alike with an expression caught somewhere between curiosity and measured reserve. As the final figure, Darius Warren steps forward and calls for order, Kian gently touches Zahir's arm. The djinn leans in, a quiet exchange of Farsi passing between them like the hiss of low-burning coals.

With a final glance around the room, his gaze lingers briefly on the others and where they are moving to sit. The Taftani moves to take a seat toward the center, not at the edge, not at the front, but placed precisely where he can see and be seen. Zahir sits beside him with his arms crossed over his powerful, tattooed chest as he watches.

<-----------------------------------^^ Kian ^^----------------------------------->

As the parade makes its way through, Khafra turns his attention to one and each of them. When it's announced to sit, Khafra takes his place at the front round table, settling in with his food and wine. He leaves it alone for the moment, watching Master Darius Warren for now.

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

With that, Finch eases back into his chair, fingertips idly circling the lid of his coffee cup as if waiting for the other shoe to fall... he watches them all enter, silent and respectful. Eyes and hair a touch wild.

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

Rick gives a little nod to Khafra and opens his mouth to speak, but as he does so the doors open and the dignitaries start to file in. He instead of speaking follows the other Hermetic to the round table towards the front and sits down, his sister sitting next to him but back a bit, as is due and proper for a consor. Rick looks behind him, catches an acolyte's attention and makes a 'come here' finger motion. One hurries over, and Rick says something to him. The acolyte takes both plates and moves towards the refreshment table, fills them will some more food, then returns, also bringing the pair two glasses of red wine. Bobbing his head a little in thanks, Rick lifts the glass to his lips as he looks between each of the delegates.

<-----------------------------------^^ Rick ^^----------------------------------->

Tirth watches the procession of the powerful people with raised eyebrows and an interested expression. Once given the release to sit, he does so in that chair he's been standing by. Back straight. Posture perfect. He looks counterintuitively completely relaxed. He could sleep like that.

<----------------------------------^^ Tirth ^^----------------------------------->

Brooks settles in a seat that seems just a BIT too small for him. He picks up his mug that he brought from home so it ACTUALLY fit his hands, and sets it in front of him. His posture also betrays military experience.

<----------------------------------^^ Brooks ^^---------------------------------->

	Sliding his plate away from him and setting his utensils to the side, Sid sits up in his chair and takes a leather portfolio out of his messenger bag and opens it, revealing a mechanical pencil and a legal pad inside. He prepares to take notes on whatever he might deem noteworthy.

<-----------------------------------^^ Sid ^^------------------------------------>

Khafra does not have the posture of one who had military experience, just one trained in such events as these. For now, he folds his hands in his lap and waits to see what's on the docket, as it were.

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

	Taking a moment to look around the room, blue eyes sweeping over the assembled magi and their consors with what can only be an appraising gaze, the man finally offers up a curt nod, answering some unspoken question, before his voice rings out once more. "I am Master Darius Warren ordo Hermes bani Tytalus." Lifting one hand, he will gesture to each person on his left in turn. "On my left are Master Tran Tuan Kiet bani Akashica, Adept Wei Hsien-Seng bani Akashica, and Adept Eikka Aarnio bani Verbena." Raising his other hand, he gestures to the ones to his right. "To my right are Adept James Llewellyn bani Celesia and Adept Katya Kuznetsov bani Euthanatos." Each of those assembled offer up silent but polite greetings of their own to those assembled, but seem content to let Darius do all the talking. Then again, with something this specific, it likely was all arranged.

	"I would like to start by saying that I understand the difficult times that you have befallen. You have been left rudderless while in some cases lives were threatened and potentially world-ending consequences brought to life." A pause. "That ends tonight. What has been cloven through hubris and apathy, we bring together, in the hopes of restoring what these two groups once shared. And with that, will come some changes. This is mostly of an administrative necessity, but also of a necessity of unity."

	Darius begins to walk his way behind the Deacons sitting to his right and makes his way around the table, walking out in front of them as he speaks. "To begin, many of the resources of these assembled Magi have been hoarded, rather than shared. There are many books in this library that were hoarded by the man who ruled here previously. There are multiple nodes that feed into the power of this place, yet noone has access to them. There are human resources as well, people who have pledged their services that remain untapped." There is a sharp shake of his head. "This can go on no longer. These resources and more will be opened to those members in good standing to this Chantry who put in the time and work. What you give us, we shall give you in return."

	"I must admit, I was flabbergasted to find that a Chantry of this size had no Horizon Realm to support it!" Even now, the shock on his features is quite visible, but with the wave of a hand, he moves on. "This will be the primary undertaking of the new Phoenix Bloom Chantry. Where we shall rise from the ashes of the previous apathy that clung to these halls and allow something entirely new to flower, something stronger than what was before. And the way we will do that is through a common goal, that can only serve to make all of us stronger."

	There's a rising passion to the man as he speaks, Darius either quite the true believer, or someone that knows how to work a crowd. Either way, he gestures as he speaks, his hands moving this way and that, his blue-eyed gaze seeking out various members of the audience. "For those of you who have no experience with this kind of thing, it takes dedication, precision, and above all else... work." Darius begins to tick off items, raising a finger to count off each one. "There are nodes that feed this place, but we don't know where they are. Mr. Llewellyn behind me will be seeking them out, but will need help. Second, these nodes are likely guarded in some way, but we don't know what those are: they will need to be reclaimed. Third, our own guardians will need to be put in place. Those who are interested in such should seek out Mr. Aarnio. Fourth, we will need to build the anchors here in both Baker House and Shrike's Nest. Please see Mr. Wei for that. Fifth, construction of the realm itself will begin with Master Tran, but the needs for that remain in flux, and will not be known for some time."

<---------------------------------^^ Daedalus ^^--------------------------------->

Rick listen attentively as Master Darius speaks, his gazes fixed on him. He takes a small sip of his wine as he listens, but as Darius wraps up the initial part of his speech his forehead furrows a bit and his mouth pinches together. He doesn't raise a hand or rise to speak, rather he just waits until the appropriate moment.

<-----------------------------------^^ Rick ^^----------------------------------->

	"Huh." The word slips past Graham's lips, more murmured than anything, and he shifts slightly so that he is facing the man speaking up front, his own fingers interlaced and paired hands resting atop the table before him. This is, if nothing else, an unusual turn of events. Grey eyes shift left and right, looking through the crowd, gauging reactions, allowing data to soak in. Is there more? Are they expected to volunteer immediately? A multitude of questions are writ large across the Hermetics expression, but he waits, allowing the entire meeting to play out without him. Yet.

<----------------------------------^^ Graham ^^---------------------------------->

Khafra nods to what's being said, soaking it all up. At the mention of Nodes, he seems to want to say something, but holds his tongue for now. Lots to do, indeed. He'll reach for his wine to have a sip and then rest his hands on the table before him.

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

Finch remains still during the speech, seated at his table with his coffee cooling, untouched, in front of him. His attention is difficult to gauge; his eyes flicker now and then, as if tracking something only he can hear, a faint signal threaded between Darius’ words. 

But when the mention of the nodes arises his posture shifts slightly, interest sharpening. His fingers, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the cup, pause. When Darius finishes and the quiet falls, Finch leans slightly forward in his chair. His head tilts, birdlike, catching the moment. The dim light glints off the edges of the old camel colored leather jacket and the metal threadwork of the pin fixed to his collar, an odd, copper-wound device of unclear function. Quiet, observant, but thinking. He speaks with a Texas drawl that carries the weight of honesty, “It does sound like the right thing to do.” Looking around at the lot of them, “I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t help.” Spoken like a true space cowboy.

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

	As much as Sid was prepared to take notes, he doesn't actually take any. He listens carefully, sips on his cranberry juice and remains quiet. His expression remains unflustered, as though what was said had no impact on him.

<-----------------------------------^^ Sid ^^------------------------------------>

Kian leans back in his chair, arms folded lightly across his chest, expression composed but attentive as Darius speaks. His eyes flick to each of the named Magi in turn, cataloging faces and affiliations, a quiet mental sketch forming with each introduction and assignment. At the mention of hoarded books and hidden nodes, his brow arches slightly, a nod following. When Darius names the Chantry anew, a smile plays at the corner of his mouth as if thinking, 'Fire, rebirth, labor. All familiar.' He murmurs something to Zahir too low to catch but the djinn responds with a faint nod, remaining silent.

<-----------------------------------^^ Kian ^^----------------------------------->

Tirth has been listening all this time, eyes focused on the speaker. At one point, he staaaaarts to whistle. It's the first note of If I Only Had A Brain, but as soon as he hears himself it dies on his lips. Clapping a hand over his mouth, Tirth begins...well....he starts giggling. And when the giggling is suppressed, he kind of starts snorting too. With each passing second, his eyes are going wider and wider until finally Tirth just stands. He waves his free hand about a little wildly and promptly starts moving with haste toward the little boys room.

<----------------------------------^^ Tirth ^^----------------------------------->

	Darius allows the questions, or lack thereof, to play out, but he does take a moment to nod to Finch in agreement before addressing the room at large. "While I understand that this is a departure from the previous circumstances, we believe it to be an important step to prepare ourselves for the trials to come." A pause. "And there will be trials. The recent incursion into Technocratic territory likely means that a decades-long truce is likely to fall. We will endeavor to retain and smooth out those relationships, but while the right hand is offering a handshake, the left must strengthen our shield. The efforts to eradicate the gang violence in Port Houston are also a noble goal, and one that we will continue to pursue, as it carries the hallmarks of a sickness that many of us have heard of... the Nephandi."

	"To handle both of these problems, and whatever others come our way in the future, we must be united. Well... at least as united as the Traditions are able." A smile slips onto his handsome-yet-scarred features at the minor jest, but it fades quickly and he presses on. "But in that unity we will find strength. And that strength starts from the ground up." Hmm? Lifting one hand, Darius gestures once with a broad sweep of his arm, indicating the entire room. "We would like each of you to bring a registry of your cabals to us, so that we may know who we have among our number, what our strenghts are, who can be depended upon. This aids you as well, in that entire cabals can work to common goals, and share in common access, rewards, and resources."

Darius's mouth opens to add more, but his brow furrows before he chokes off the next words. Taking a slow breath, he adds, "any questions?"

<---------------------------------^^ Daedalus ^^--------------------------------->

From his place at the side table, Finch raises one hand with a careful, deliberate motion that draws the eye without demanding it. When acknowledged, his distinct voice threads into the room.

A smooth, low sound, like Texas velvet, “Master Warren,” Finch begins, polite but precise, “in the matter of the nodes... and their guardianship... is there consideration being given to those of the who specialize in such detection and stabilization? Especially where hidden or obfuscated flows of energy are concerned?”

"Such work may require instruments and means of attunement not common." His gaze flicks toward the assembly briefly, "Etheric filtration, subharmonic field resonance... and other techniques best left unnamed in mixed company."A small, tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. "I would request leave to assist in these searches. For the sake of precision." Then Finch lowers his hand, gaze steady, waiting.

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

	Khepri slips in quietly, an old tome held in her hands; the pages long since given up their binding. She finds a seat to the side and out of the way, getting comfortable in her chair before carefully setting the book in her lap and turning her attention to the meeting.

<----------------------------------^^ Khepri ^^---------------------------------->

Kian straightens slightly, waiting for his turn to speak, his voice smooth but weighted. "The Disparate Alliance," he says. "We are three. Myself and Roxy are both Zaotar of the Taftani. The third is Remy who is a Knight Templar." His eyes flick briefly to the gathered council, then back to Darius.

"We don't fit easily into one shape, but we stand together. We've already put our hands to the work, helped out here, and made sure we're part of the solutions needed." He folds his hands lightly in front of him. "In things going forward, will we still be part of this team while still keeping our independence? The understanding struck still holds?"

<-----------------------------------^^ Kian ^^----------------------------------->

	Watching his fellow Cultist dart to the restroom while chuckling causes Sid to shake his head. He puts his notepad away, slides his plate back and resumes eating his food. He's smiling and enjoying himself.

<-----------------------------------^^ Sid ^^------------------------------------>

The mention of Nodes has Khafra sitting up. Once the floor opens, he looks to Master Warren and then a glance to Mr. Llewellyn before his attention returns to Darius. "One of the main Nodes feeding Baker House originates at the San Jacinto Battleground, connected by a Ley Line." He shakes his head, "I have lost track of the others."

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

	Graham for his part, is interested in the discussion, but is content to keep to himself, silently soaking in the repartee, such as it is, and occasionally sipping from his water. This isn't quite what he expected, but to be honest, what did he actually expect? Shrugging his shoulders as internal monologue prompts a physical response, he continues to listen in, offering no counsel yet seeking none either.

<----------------------------------^^ Graham ^^---------------------------------->

	Darius turns when Finch begins to speak, letting his hands drape behind his back and gather there, his blue-eyed gaze an intent thing, all of his not inconsiderable focus pointed at the space cowboy. "Of course, Mister... " there is a pause for Finch to supply his name, and then he continues. "This is delicate work in the best of times, and we are not working in the best of times. This is why Adept Llewellyn will be supervising this task, as he has experience in these matters. You- or anyone-, is welcome to offer up your services, I simply ask that you seek out Presbyter Llewellyn some time after this meeting to discuss the particulars. But let me be the first to thank you for offering to help."

	Darius turns then to Kian, and once more that solemn gaze levelled with full intent upon the Disparate. "I am unable to answer that, as I do not know the understanding that was struck. This is something we will need to discuss." His head tilts to the side for a moment before he straightens. "But the broad strokes do not sound so impossible."

	"Then it sounds like we have the first of many," Darius says, turning to Khafra with a sharp nod. "Please inform Adept Llewelyn of the location, and whatever else you can remember about the place." Looking left and right, Master Warren asks lightly, "anything else?" Another of those small smiles, and he adds, "I understand that this is a lot to take in, and I am sure that you will have questions and clarifications in the future. I assure you that we will make ourselves available to you to answer any questions as best we are able over the coming weeks and months." He pauses for a moment, hands coming from their place behind his back to gesture vaguely. "While we are all here... is there anything else that anyone else needs to discuss with the rest of us?"

<---------------------------------^^ Daedalus ^^--------------------------------->

At some point after he's got himself under control, Tirth reappears, slipping in as unobtrusively as he can manage. He finds a new seat. In the back. Near the door.

<----------------------------------^^ Tirth ^^----------------------------------->

Rick rises from his chair "Thank you for this convocation, Master Warren. My name is Richard James Thadius Young the Fourth, ordo Hermes bani Quaesator, here by request..." one could almost hear the quotation marks around the word 'request' "... and legal proxy to Master Elias Silverstein bani Quaesator, legal proxy and representitive of Mistress Victoria Du Mont bani Quaeasator, legal proxy and representative of.." There is a few more moments of rattling off chains of commands. Hermetic AND a lawyer, fun for all.

Eventually he gets to his point. "Myself and apparently a number of others of the wise have recently arrived in this city, and as such have not formed the bonds of cabal yet. Speaking only for myself, I offer up any and all assistance that I can provide in any of the tasks that you have outlined. Furthermore, while it is good that we all collectively look towards the future and work towards strengthening our bonds in the name of unity and friendship, I do ask what lessons we have learned from the past. Do we have any indication what were the reasons for the difficulty with the opposition and what likely response they will have to the incursion to secure the freedom of the Deacon? Lastly you have mentioned the most foul word Nephandi. What cause have you to bring those accursed ones to our attention? A specific incident or event, or a general feeling of ill-ease that is their hallmark? Thank you.". With that he sits down.

<-----------------------------------^^ Rick ^^----------------------------------->

Finch inclines his head slightly, sharp, minimal. "Finch," he supplies simply, the correction of the name smooth as he adds easily, “Mr. Finch was my father.” At Darius’ thanks, Finch offers no visible pride or discomfort. "Understood. I will consult with Adept Llewellyn following adjournment," he replies in that same quiet, resonant tone. Then silence again, his focus folding inward.

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

Kian offers a single nod to Darius in return, accepting the answer for now. "Then we'll speak more of it later," he says, not pressing further. He leans back in his chair again, one hand resting on the table while the other reaches for the cigarette Zahir lights and hands over.

<-----------------------------------^^ Kian ^^----------------------------------->

Tirth looks toward Rick, and something he says makes Tirth curl up inside and die a little. Swallowing, he stands then in a moment when it seems no one else is speaking. "Howdy, Master Warren. Tirth Edward Hawk. Joybringer of the Sahajiya. Disciple. Not a legal proxy to anyone I'm aware of. Uh, self-sabotage is my drug of choice. Anyway, thanks for all of that. I'm a healer. Not sure how I can help with all of those tasks, but, uh, yeah. I'm willin' to help." And then he sits down again.

<----------------------------------^^ Tirth ^^----------------------------------->

Khafra bows his head to Master Warren. He looks to Rick and then back to Master Warren. Whatever he might have, he holds his tongue for now.

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

	Setting his glass of juice on the table, Sid stands and offers an introduction to the Deacons. "I am Doctor Sidney Platt, also of the Sahajiya and the Joybringers. And much like my fellow there, I am a healer of sorts. A clinical psychologist to be certain. I'm not sure what I can offer, but happy to offer whatever I can. I'm also quite handy as a baker." He resumes his seat and his meal.

<-----------------------------------^^ Sid ^^------------------------------------>

	Late to the party, the woman in the back rises to her feet, careful with the old book in her hands. "I am Khepri Issa, Baker House's resident Librarian. If I can assist any of you in locating a particular Tome or reaching out to another Chantry to borrow, copy or aquire something we are lacking, please let me know." Then resumes her seat as well.

<----------------------------------^^ Khepri ^^---------------------------------->

	Darius lets Rick recite his legal lineage with what can only be the patience borne of years of militaristic discipline, able to actually put on the appearance that he is interested in each name cited. Damn. But when the first question comes up, and then the next, the Master arches a brow sharply, apparently intrigued, and offers up a single nod. "In both cases, I suspect that you are best served by seeking out those closest to the issue." A hand raises and gestures to Khafra. "Adept Rameses spearheaded much of the effort in reclaiming the wayward Magister. As for the latter," his hand shifts to gesture to Kian. "Our Disparate friends know more about that than I do, as they have been hunting down the menace, if my information is correct. It is less a general unease than a specific act. A girl was kidnapped, which by itself is not of great portent, but there are certain mysteries surrounding the girl and her circumstances which lead us to believe there is more at play. The suggestion of the Fallen are speculation at the moment, but the use of degredation and hatred are many of the usual signs."

	"Because-" the single word comes from the Chorister in the back, the aforementioned Llewellyn. The choked off reply causes Darius to turn and beckon the priest to continue. Llewellyn's voice is light, almost chipper, the man a nearly consistent ray of faith. "Because, at their heart, nodes are about the world, Mister Hawk. The world and people. Those spaces which enough find to be sacred carry that belief, that power, and draw it forth in a node. Cleansing a node is one of the greatest acts of healing there is. And it rarely is the simple act of ritual." A glance is fired at Darius, but Llewellyn continues, "the greatest threat to nodes is the sense, the spirit, of those nearby. When there is pain, degredation, anger, or fear nearby, it taints the node. Guarding a node isn't about setting a couple of Wards. It is about making sure that the node retains its sacrality. The skills of healers of all sorts will be necessary, both you and Doctor Platt." Each is given a smile and nod by the priest before he quiets down and lets Darius continue.

	"Thank you, Miss Issa, of course. I am sure your skills will continue to heavily depended upon." And, with that, Darius takes a step back, leaning back against the table that the remainder of the dignitaries sit at, allowing those who have been called upon to speak.

<---------------------------------^^ Daedalus ^^--------------------------------->

When his name is mentioned, Khafra nods his head in acknowlegement. "I will make myself available to answer any and all questions that may be made of me." Khafra says both to Rick and the council at large. "There is much to see and here, yet some of those threads in the web have gone silent."

<----------------------------------^^ Khafra ^^---------------------------------->

Rick looks like he's about to rise again, but mercifully his sister catches his sleeve and gives a little tug, shaking her head. He opens his mouth as if to say something to her, but she leans forward and murmurs something to him. His mouth closes as he sits back in his chair, and while he carries a bit of a frumpy look on his face he seems to acquiesce to her point. The assembled might be owing her a drink or two later in the evening. Rick however does nod towards Khafra and says in a lower tone to not disturb the general meeting "Alright, we'll get together soon."

<-----------------------------------^^ Rick ^^----------------------------------->

Brooks has been mostly paying attention... if it wasn't for the occasional grabbing at Hrafnson's beak followed by a harsh whisper.... which was a decent bit .

<----------------------------------^^ Brooks ^^---------------------------------->

Finch is leaned back in his seat again, absorbing or listening, maybe both at the same time. He takes a sip from his coffee cup, finds it cold and makes a face before looking around calmly as if waiting for this meeting to end to procure more coffee. Maybe it fuels his magic. (It probably doesn't.)

<----------------------------------^^ Finch ^^----------------------------------->

	Graham can't help himself, a hand quickly reaching up to cover his mouth, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Just what it is that might be amusing to him is an exercise best left to the reader, but he pulls in a long, slow breath through his nose and lets it out just as slowly. It's surprisingly calming, and the Hermetic turns his attention to the others as questions and answers fly past, falling on Khafra and Kian in turn as they offer up what answers they are able.

<----------------------------------^^ Graham ^^---------------------------------->

	"Good. Well, with that done, and no further business announced, I want to thank you all for coming, and look forward to working with each of you in the coming days. Please, remember, seek out those who are spearheading these reclamation efforts to talk about what services you are able to provide." Another of those polite smiles, and he rises up on his toes slightly, intoning, "by our Will, we Rise. I hereby call this Convocation to a close."

	With that complete, Darius turns on his heel and begins to walk around the main table, heading once more for the door he and the others at the front entered through. The remaining dignitaries do stick around, chatting amicably with one another before they start their own departures.

<---------------------------------^^ Daedalus ^^--------------------------------->



<pre><OOC> Daedalus says, "To put this into simpler terms: The Chantry (which is an organization that includes both Baker House and Shrike's Nest) has access to a -bunch- of resources (read: Backgrounds! Node, Wonders, Resources, Spies, Contacts, etc etc etc). As you do things that are of use to the Chantry, you will be given the opportunity to buy the 'Chantry' Background. This Background will then grant you access to the Chantry's resources. Need a detective as a Contact? The Chantry probably has one! Hopefully you've got enough Chantry background to use it!"

<OOC> Daedalus says, "It'll also include things like 'a really nice laboratory' where the tools grant you -1 diff on Science/Technology/etc."

<OOC> Daedalus says, "Finding/Claiming Nodes will be plots that either I will run or you can pitch to me and run yourselves! (I like to give goodies to PRP runners.)"</pre>