Summary:Mack coems to the House of Mysteries as John gets a breakthrough to make progress on the haunted harbor and communing with her late grandfather Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It's been a month and the harbor's been mostly quiet. That said it's not stopped John from investigating that which could not be answered easily. his trip to the Lodon Underground and back, and then getting trapped at the Oblivion Bar while there were leyline difficulties? Fun. One can't particularly complain about being trapped in a bar though. Haing found a leadhe contacted Mack and told ehr to head to the House of Mysteries…her tattoo should know where to take her.
Well, let's see if that works.
And work it does. Clearly House is where she needs to be, because she shows up at the door, in her usual casual gear, blinking at being in an area she hadn't expected, since the damn thing moves. She knocks. "Chauncey?" she calls out. She's been reading books he gave her for the last month, and keeping a weather eye on activity in the harbor, like a good little sort of apprentice.
Constantine walking over to teh door (Because he's not that type of bloody wizard) he greets, "Not home. You've got my sorry arse though. C'mon in." The books are all back up on the table or perhaps they've never left. The whole house in and of itself itches in that way standing in a magical object may. John walks past the mirror over the mantle but any reflection seems to evade the room.
"So, I figure the only way we're likely to get any answers without letting the coastline be eaten is to work on making something to conjure up your grandfather. Find out what he's not telling us." He pauses and looks to her, "DId you bring springrolls?"
Mack holds up a bag from one of the Chinese restaurants near the docks. "Of course I did. And some pork lo mein for me. I hope you have something to drink in this place," she quips. She shrugs off her backpack and looks for a place to sit down. The lack of reflection in the mirror has a brow arching. "Are you a vampire?" she asks.
Constantine pauses and swings a look to her, eyebrow up. "Literally the furthest thing from it, luv." His hand goes out and as she crosses the room will notice there's someone walking where she is in the mirror but it's not her. "Plates and bowls in the kitchen. Whisey cabinet is over there. Fridge for the rest." He pauses and adds, "I haven't replaced the milk yet and the green butterdish is not for edibles. Nothing else should be suspect though."
Mack pauses in front of the mantle. "Why is that mirror showing other stuff?" she asks, blinking, before she continues on to collect some plates and utensils from the kitchen. She opens the fridge. "Is this beer ok!?" she hollers back for him.
Constantine doesn't even look up from ruting around in the bag of spring rolls. "No. It's American." And he's a smart ass. "Won't kill you, though. Leave teh jelly jar closed though." Looking up at the mirror he squints and bites his egg roll. "mirror doesn't reflect the present; it reflects the past. Bloody addicting if you pay too much attention to it. HAve you heard from teh old man recently? At all? Any iteration of?"
Mack emerges from the kitchen again with things to put the food on and a couple beers. "So it's likethe history channel for wizards? Cool." She sets the things down for them and opens her beer before sitting. "Every couple days or so I see him on the boat somewhere. But I think he's struggling to appear. Like he's using up his energy to tell me something and I'm too much of an idiot to figure it out and it's draining him."
Constantine goes to argue, but pauses and waves a hand in a vague circle, "Generally with fewer fights aginst the German army but… I suppose so." He blinks looking back at it with a sigh, "Way to humble an relic." He makes his way over to his stool to perch his ass on it and eat while she talks. "So he's trying and what's you're sayin is we need to give him better reception? An amplifier."
"I think so. But you're the expert, John, not me," Mack notes. She digs into her food with gusto, gesturing with her fork. "You got stuff that can do that? Like speakers for the other side or something?"
Constantine arches an eyebrow boggling at her, "He's your bloody grandfather." Still the wheels are turning and the process yeilds a slow nod. "We do." he confirms. "Sort of like speakers. A little messy and we'll have to circumvent a few things unless his remains are on teh ship, but we can do this. We get enough saltwater around us? Well then it's bloody easier but tomorrow we can manage. Tonight we get a few things together and create a fetish for him to use as a focus."
"A fetish? I am not putting on bondage gear for any spells, John," Mack says flatly. Oh Mack. You are so new to this stuff. "But we can take the ship out of the channel and the river and into the deep blue sea and that will get you all the saltwater you can handle."
Constantine shakes his head ever witht eh serious-faced quip, "And I never do zipties without a safeword so we're even." He licks the sauce off his thumb and explains, "A fetish is a spiritual focus that's used like old rabbit ear antannae to help focus and channel spiritual energies. If we can take the boat out? Yeah. Yeah that should work."
"Well that's a relief. I'm pretty sure I'd just look ridiculous in a gimp suit," Mack says with a snort. She seems to understand the OTHER fetish meaning. "Right, like voodoo dolls and stuff. Fetishes. Right. Ok. So what do we make it out of?"
Constantine shrugs, "REally only one way to find out." He stands up and wanders over to teh bookshelf leaving it anyone's guess if he was refering to teh suit or the situation. etting his fingers dance over the wpines he pulls one out and wipes his hand on his trousers before cracking teh cover. "Alright, in this case, Driftwood idealls, thistle, cinnamon, and a few other things. we'll carve into it and tomorrow? Bring it woth. We'll see how we do. Sadly it's not really eeeh an exact sciene."
"Driftwood is easy enough," Mack notes. There's plenty of it around the river. "No idea what thistle is. Cinnamon like, sticks or powdered stuff. I have some of the bands from the cigars he used to smoke, would that help?"
Constantine nods, "No worries. This is easy enough to manage. Purple stabby plant. Think flowering angry kale. I'll show you." And with that the slow construction process is explained.