“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”

   -Terry Pratchett

_____
From the stories that the Orders told the newly-awakened before attending their first Convocation, this one should be one to remember.

The Pentacle had less than a hundred members in Chicago proper, a number that had been dwindling down for the last decade as less and less people seemed to see the Truth that stood before them. It was not a phenomenon singular to the Windy city either; the Awakened society as a whole had been shrinking for some time. It was not that more of them were dying, however, but that less and less seemed to Awaken. Naturally, it made sense why the Awakening of four new Mages within the span of the last few months seemed to be something to celebrate, as it ended Chicago's two-year dry spell of new members to their way of life.

The Acanthus saw it as Fate swinging their way just as the Obrimos saw it as the crazy roll of the dice, but the possibility of society as a whole was something even the most stubborn of Hierarchs could help themselves but to smile at the thought of. If it were truly an omen, then what was better to bring them together and lead the path for the society together?

The invitation extended to attend as a "Guest of Honor" had not made it's undertones secret; many wanted to discuss the ramifications of your presence, and felt it was important to bring the four of you together. Most of the Cabals that were spread across Chicago catered to one or two Orders tops, as the ideologies had forced them into cliques years ago before the society's population had begun to dwindle. As anyone from their Order would have explained it, in many ways, agreeing to work with these strangers would give them a larger hand in the culture of mysteries that they already lived in.

Held at the Congress Plaza Hotel in downtown Chicago in one of the large ballrooms, the newly awakened were each given a key and instructions to let themselves into a suite on the top floor. It was accompanied with instructions to arrive at 8pm for drinks and late dining the day before the Convocation began, and was personally signed by Hierarch Faux, the leader of one of Chicago's largest Consiliums. It appeared that you arrived before him, although there were a selection of alcohols available at a small wet bar as well as an expensive-looking cheese tray...

_____
OOC: Welcome to the first current-day thread. This takes place between days and months from your last scene, but assumes that (a) you have found a mentor or Order to walk you through the basics, and (b) are ready to take on responsibility. No more permission slips required. Feel free to paint a bigger picture if you want with the first post; I'm going to expect all of you to do at least a little scenery-chewing whenever we get everyone together like this.

[Private to GM: https://games.mindseyesociety..../convocation-primer/]

Anne had dressed in her navy suit for the evening, a bright blue scarf with a fractal pattern that she had bought on a whim brightening it up. Her pocket watch was attached to her vest with the traditional chain. Comfortable black shoes rounded off the look.

Since the night of the storm, Anne had found herself dressing more flamboyantly and buying new clothing on impulse- which she had never done before. She had always carefully planned her wardrobe based on what was respectable, conservative, and practical.

Her hair had been the same way until the day after the storm when she walked into a random hairdresser and told the woman, "Give me something stylish and exciting." She had been surprised to see what her mother would call "crazy braids", but found that they suited her.

Everything had started to change after that night. In a broad sense, there seemed to be so much more out there: she ran across interesting people and things that she would have walked past before, opportunities that just came to her out of nowhere, and plain good luck.

That first night, the cat had settled in and made himself at home, although he said he would only stay if she gave him a good name. Just before Anne had left for her mother's house on the fateful day, she had been grading papers for her Medieval History class. It seemed like every student had chosen to write their papers on Paracelsus.

Fortunately, he turned out to be a captivating figure- a physician, philosopher, alchemist, and occultist. Anne had been fascinated by his pioneering work on the relationship between disease and psychology, which led to Jung’s theory of the symbolic language of alchemy. Following a quote in one of the papers, Anne found herself engaged by "The Hermetic And Alchemical Writings Of Paracelsus" to the point that the afternoon flew past- that had been the beginning of things running late that night.

So Anne decided to name the cat Hohenheim, Paracelsus' original name. And when her mentor had told her that she needed a shadow name, "Paracelsus" was the obvious choice.
***

Anne was used to this kind of get-together: the schmooze and move. It was the main way she socialized with fellow students and other academics, so she was fairly comfortable. She did wonder about mage social rules and would keep an eye out for anything unusual. Was it impolite to use magic around other mages or did some flout their abilities? Did they share information about their current research or was everything kept private? There were certainly particular people she should approach, but she wasn't sure who they were yet. She'd have to keep her eyes open.

For the moment they were alone so she checked out the cheese platter and got a small plate of cheeses and meats, bypassing the alcohol.

The cat had started the evening prowling around, but they were both a little nervous about this meeting and Hohenheim quickly decided that he preferred to stay close and ride around on Paracelsus' shoulders. He had a better view that way.

The door to the room opened and another person entered.

Hohenheim nudged her with a paw, ~I think that's one of them~. He flicked his ear toward the newcomer, ~They look new.~

~Let's go say hi~ Paracelsus replied.

She set a smile on her face and walked up to the newcomer. Offering her hand, she said, "Hi, I'm Paracelsus."

OOC: Telepathy in ~ brackets.

He wore a suit on his body, a tie around his neck and a smile on his face, but there was something about the way Simon walked in that made him seem... peculiar. No, morbid. Maybe it was the way the shadows seemed to dance around him, or how everything seemed just a little bit older around him. Even his fancy suit had the feeling of fraying around the edges, even though he'd gotten it only a couple of days ago.

And besides, he wasn't Simon anymore. At least, not here. The ankh around his neck reminded him of that. No, here, he was Midas, and though it seemed pompous to him, no other name felt quite right. "Simon" was a ruse he put up for friends and servants, a mask he put on to ease the worry of others around him. How appropriate, then, that he was approached by the Guardians of the Veil- though he had not met his mentor in person, yet (the Guardians seemed to enjoy operating under layers of obfuscation), he had quite liked their proverbial elevator pitch.

As he walked through the door, his eye first drifted to the bar and its delicious alcoholic supply, but he had little time to dwell on that before the strange woman with the frizzy hair approached him, hand stuck out. Though he was taken aback for a moment, he quickly recovered and shook her hand.

"Midas. Pleasure to meet you, Paracelsus."

Olympic checked his overcoat and scarf at the door, taking a few minutes to charm the coat check girl. She said she felt a spark between them as he kissed her hand. He laughed it off, saying that it must be the static electricity.

He cut a dashing figure in a light grey suit and brilliant gold tie. He hummed a Christmas carol as he entered with a spring to his step, and, after gathering a scotch neat and a bit of the best Brie he'd ever tasted, joined the other two new mages, waving at his mentor, who had arrived early, on the way.

His mentor, a professor of computer science and information systems at the university of Chicago, had approached him about a week after his awakening. The Acanthus had been impressed by his story, and by his claim that he had managed to read a symbol of High Speech before fully awakening. He had been fair in his depiction of the other orders, but as providence would have it, Olympic liked the philosophy of the libertines.

"Midas, huh?  Please don't be offended if I don't shake your hand!" He quipped as he joined the morose fellow and the girl with the interesting hair. "Call me Olympic. Nice to meet you."

Paracelsus smiled, "Midas? A man with a gold touch."

~He's touched all right,~ Hohenheim summed up, not unkindly.

Curious, Paracelsus checked him out for signs of wealth- a gold watch? $5000 suit? That ankh looked interesting.

"And this is Hohenheim," Paracelsus added with a mental apology to the cat for forgetting to introduce him. She was still getting used to that part of their relationship.

The cat nodded to Midas in a rather human way.

Paracelsus turned to consider the newcomer- he was as light as Midas was dark. She offered him her hand, "Paracelsus. And Hohenheim."

The cat again nodded politely to Olympic.

"We certainly do have high opinions of ourselves," Paracelsus said with a light laugh.

"Dress to impress" had always been Mnemosyne's method, and tonight was an important night to make an impression - as a "Guest of Honor", no less. On the other hand, she didn't want to make the wrong impression, so after much deliberation she had settled on the standard Little Black Dress - albeit one with a rather daring cut down the back - with matching heels and some conservative jewelry (gold at first glance, but actually brass; an affectation she'd picked up after her Awakening). Her neck-length red hair was tied up and pinned artfully behind her head with brass pins.

"Good evening." She nodded her head politely as she reached the group, a small drink in one hand. She'd seen one of them - the younger man with the long hair - earlier while checking her coat, flirting with the girl working the desk (a fact she'd already filed away for future reference) but the other two were new to her. Her mentor had given her a little coaching going into this - important people, factions, things to say, things not to say - but even he didn't know anything about the three new Awakenings. Which meant doing things the old fashioned way - mingling.

"Mnemosyne," She said, smiling. "I'm guessing you're the other 'Guests of Honor' tonight?"

[Private to GM: Incidentally, what would her mentor have told her, going into something like this? I imagine since he's Silver Ladder he'd have some idea as to the social and political goings-on of the Consillium.]

Midas chuckled at Olympic. "Don't worry, I can't turn people into gold. Well, not yet, anyway." He raised an eyebrow at the man. "Olympic? And I thought my name was pretentious."

He turned his attention back to Paracelsus. "Indeed we do. Paracelsus, Hohenheim... why does that sound familiar? I feel like I heard it somewhere before," he said, furrowing his brow. "You'll have to excuse me, I was never the best student in school." If Paracelsus studied Midas, she'd see he actually lacked anything with precious metals- the only real marker of wealth was the ankh, which had rubies encrusted in it, but which was itself apparently carved from bone.

He was about to continue before seeing Mnemosyne and getting taken slightly aback. He hadn't expected to see someone wearing anything so... daring, certainly not an event like this. Granted, he had half expected people to show up in wizard robes, so who was he to judge.

"Mnemosyne, eh? And yes, I believe we are," he said, going to retrieve a drink. "Apparently, we're a big deal, or something like that."

"My name would be more pretentious if I had given it to myself." Olympic said with a genuine smile. "Really, it's because I used to be an athlete, and my brither used it to pick on me."  Then, turning to the ladies, "Para...scelus and Mnemsemony?  I'm sorry in advance for the number of times that I mispronounce your names."  He blushes a bit. "There's a reason us jocks give each other short nick names, we can't handle the complicated stuff.  Hell, I'm lucky I got the Midas reference. I almost asked if you could help with my car!"

"Paracelsus' original name was von Hohenheim," Parcelsus replied to Midas. "He was a philosopher, occultist and physician during the Middle Ages. He laid the ground work for a lot of scientific methodologies today."

Paracelsus had to stop herself from expounding about her namesake; he really led a quite fascinating life.

She was about to ask the others about their jobs, then stopped. That might be one of those subjects that was off-limits. If someone knew your job, that would make it easier to find out who you really were.

Paracelsus struggled to think of another acceptable subject while she fed a piece of turkey to Hohenheim.

"Have any of you met our host before?"