Summary:Meeting up after the disturbance at her show, information on what happened comes to light. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Zatanna had indeed invited people backstage after the small kerfuffle during her show. It hadn't taken long for her to decide that that wasn't the best place to do this. With a murmurmed phrase, the magician had teleported everyone to The Bar With No Doors and told Michael, the bartender, to give everyone drinks - on her tab.
"First, I'd like to thank you all for your help tonight and apologise if any of you took harm. I know I've already asked, but is anyone hurt?" It seems she's used to this. "And I suppose you might have some questions."
She certainly does. Like … does she really want that necklace back.
And Ambrose had come down from the catwalk after he'd caught his breath. The ring, squirreled away into his interior suit-vest pocket, kept him invisible until he removed up when up on high. Agreeing to accompany Zatanna and the others to the Bar With No Doors, it becomes apparent that he's been here before.
A quick scan of the others proves no young Master Cain. Drat.
Content to order a plain gin, three fingers, no ice, the Jackal then finds a chair and sits in it. He downs half of his gin in one fell swoop and then begins idly massaging one temple with his elbow rested on the table.
"It is magic. Magic is always questionable," the master-thief grumps drily. "And I am uninjured, thank you. How in the bloody hell did that piece get past security?"
Poor Tyler. After a cursory look around their surroundings and after having checked with what others who might have been still with some wherewithal around that show room, young Tyler was still unfound. So it is with a certain resignation as Alexander Aaron walks along after the crowd of worthies, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and his eyes distanced in reflection.
Once a place is chosen he turns a chair around and drops into it, settling with that boneless comfortable way that is the true purview of someone his age. Blue eyes lift and shift from face to face to face as he keeps his counsel for now. When it comes his turn to order he asks for a soda and then slouches properly in his chair.
Pepper, still with Arananet acting as the most unnerving gown adornment ever, looks around the place they've arrived and is perhaps strangely nonplussed. It's almost like she's been here before. She asks for a pot of hot tea, "Benifuki if possible", and also settles in a chair, oddly turning her back a bit to Ambrose.
"I'm okay, but I think all of this has, well," she gestures to the WAY overlarge spider. "It's fine, Arananet, really," she tells the spider. "If you'll get some rest now, you can play with the hamster ball as much as you want tomorrow, all right?"
Fenris had rather quickly assumed the form of a man, the one he had arrived in, as being a wolf is not conducive to enjoying a drink. He takes a seat at the nearby table and looks at though he'll accept whatever is served up. No. The necklace hasn't reappeared. It won't for some time.
"No apologies necessary, Miss Zatara though as Ambrose, I am somewhat curious as to what that piece was doing there."
"It's Zee, please." The woman had changed in the blink of an eye during the time she'd entered her dressing room and arrived here. Now, it's the customary black leather pants, cami-top and a leather jacket over the top.
Fenris is served a dwarven ale - not quite at the level of an Asgardian ale but close. And Zee glass of bubbly.
"That is indeed an interesting ornament you have, Miss Potts." She says curiously, blue eyes landing on Phobos as he's quiet.
"Why wouldn't it have got past security, Mister Atherton? It's not like I have supernatural scanners on the doors to my show. Without have the necklace in our possession …" The mage smirks at Fenris "… it's hard to tell what it was. It might have been just a necklace, don't you think?"
Of course, Ambrose had got a much better look at than Zatanna, so might be able to cast some more light on the issue.
"However, this isn't the first … cursed … item that's activated in my vicinity. And I rather doubt it's going to being the last."
Ambrose lifts his free hand out to one side and his drink to the other in a near-total spread of arms. Not a drop spills.
"I surmised that being magical yourself, you might have the ability to set up such guards," he replies to Zatanna, still appearing mildly irritated. "And I assure you, it was not just some piece of jewelry. Miss Zatara is correct." Glancing around at the others and lastly to Fenris, he sighs as if very put-upon.
"When I removed the necklace from the woman's neck, I got a brief look at its make. It was old, at least several hundred if not a thousand years old, and in surprisingly good condition — little tarnish," the master-thief clarifies. "If I had to hazard at a civilization from whence it came, I might guess at Grecian."
A beat, and then he adds flatly and specifically at Fenris with a bleak little smirk, "You were supposed to catch it, not eat it. Do spit it out."
Pepper takes a very careful sip of her tea, as Arananet seems to want to check EVERYTHING with her pedipalps at the moment, then smiles a bit apologetically to Zee. "I'm taking care of her for a friend. She's got her high maintenance moments— don't complain, you /do/, but she's overall much less trouble than I'd been told she would be." Of course, it's very likely that her proper owner will be QUITE dismayed at how Pepper has been spoiling Arananet rotten.
"I didn't get to look at the, necklace, was it? But I did see one young man who collapsed. He looked deathly pale, as if he were suddenly severely anemic."
Of course it's Greek. Alexander looks down and rubs at the back of his neck thoughtfully, frowning to himself. Shaking his head he looks back up and follows along with the conversation, eyes moving around the room from speaker to speaker as they each offer their advice or information. But the young Olympian has little to offer from his perspective. At least for now.
Though he does look over toward Fenris and after a moment murmurs, "I could take a look at it." The necklace. His nose crinkles a a little as he adds. "You know, like… later." Much later. And perhaps with a lot of cleaning done. Not by him.
"I've picked up some things. Here and there."
Fenris chuckles and takes a sip of his ale. "I'll have it sent to you… later." Much later. "It wasn't gold I can tell you that much. It was Orichalcum and not that gold-bronze alloy that the Minoans called Orichalcum either. It was the real deal." Why exactly Fenris knows what either or both of those things taste like he does not explain.
"I will spit it out, Ambrose. Give me a day or so." The God Wolf says with a wink. "It was going to be a bit difficult to hold it and continue fighting if necessary. Also I figured that at worst if it had the same effect on me I'd get a lunch buffet."
That's… horrifying. Possibly.
"Now there are two questions I think. Firstly, Zee what is a magus of your skill doing with a stage magic act? And second… why are you part spider, Pepper?"
Zee looks at Phobos, remembering what he'd done back there and how Fenris had called him 'Fear'. "I'd appreciate that. As I said, it's not the first item I've found in travels. Since I've been back in New York though … I've seen a couple, which in statistical terms is concerning."
Holding her hand out towards Pepper, Zatanna offers a perch for the spider. "I didn't have time to study the spell but I'd say something like a Sirens Call, siphoning off the life energy of those it ensnares." Sirens. Greek. Orichalcum.
Fenris question has the mages blue eyes dancing. "I think the correct question, Fenris, is what is a magician of my natural ability doing dabbling with the Occult." The smile is cheeky to add to that. "In all seriousness though, I use my shows to pay the bills. So I don't touch the Zatara family fortune. What did you wall think of the venue, by the way?"
Ambrose glances over at Alex. He hadn't expected the young man to show much interest in the necklace given the missing Tyler. Admittedly, now the Jackal is curious. Arananet, as always, gets a leery look with her waving arms and scurrying.
His free hand lifts again from where it was sat on a table in an abortive gesture. "No, please, do not hurry on my account. I can imagine it might twist your innards." Fenris still gets a quick, toothy grin.
His chair creaks as he settles further into it and ends up slouching in mimicry to Alex's occupancy of his own chair. A lift of his drink is directed to Zatanna: "When the venue was not filled with the enthralled and the miasm of terror, it was charming."
There's no scurrying involved. This time. At Zee's offered hand, Arananet pats with a couple of feet, then climbs off of Pepper and over onto the dark-haired woman's arm. Not including her legs, she's bigger than Zee's forearm by a fair bit, and is strangely less tarantula-fuzzy and more oddly scaly than her body shape should imply. She's examining the leather jacket with her pedipalps as well, but doesn't seem in any way aggressive or defensive. Maybe she realizes that the sorceress isn't a threat to her or Pepper.
Speaking of, Pepper offers Fenris an attempt at an explanation. "Technically, I'm not part spider. Arananet is her own individual, a spider-ghost, I guess? I never really understood the full details, but she usually rests on my arm in the guise of an extremely realistic tattoo." She rubs briefly at the inside of her forearm as she explains. "I think she was originally intended as a helper spirit, but since I'm fostering her currently, she's getting to be more of a companion than just out and about for specific purposes."
"The venue was actually quite good, Ms. Zatara, though I think the acoustics could be a bit better. It felt like you were having to rely on the electronic amplification a bit much."
A shoe shifts with a faint scrape as Alexander unfolds his legs, reverses them, shifting his posture in his seat to the other side of the arm chair. He continues to watch the conversation but then pipes up when Zee asks of the venue.
"I liked it. Was nice. Good snacks." Since really that's the most important thing to someone his age. He then hushes a little and lets the conversation go on for a bit around him.
"So, how many weirdo artifacts have you found and have they all had like a sort of linking theme? Or something you can discern." Alex sits up a little and leans forward. "Maybe they're all, you know, Greekish. And chances are they're linked to my dad and maybe for the trifecta they all come from a closet that I left unlocked when I was a kid or something?"
One might get the impression that Alexander has been stuck most viciously over and over by Clotho's spindle out of pure spite and thus the feeling is returned in like.
"You're haunted by a spider ghost?" That's just disturbing. That thing is huge. Well. For a spider it's huge.
"It was a nice venue. Chairs are sturdy. Never know when you'll need a sturdy chair." Fenris is of course Norse. He would be used to hall brawls and indeed he is. That the performance degenerated into a particularly nasty rugby scrum doesn't actually strike him as in any way odd. The presence of magical artifacts, now that is a bit odd.
"Pepper. Ambrose…" Fenris gets an idea, glancing at Zee and Phobos as he does. "Who do you know who might own art galleries? If you want to know what kinds of things are being brought in from far off locales… it's typically best to talk to those who collect and display them." That might give them more insight into any connecting themes.
"A variety, Alexander, isn't it? And I'm sorry, you're friend - he's still missing isn't he? Do you have something of his, by any chance?" Zatanna hits several points at once before finishing "Mespotamian, Greecian, Norse, Celtic… "
Looking at Fenris, Zee cants her head. "What are you thinking?" beat "Yes, you proved the chairs were sturdy." Looking at the others, Zee is thoughtful "I'm thinking about buying one of the tenancies and opening my own Magic Caberet."
With the spider perched on her arm, Zee examines it. "Spirit, I believe. So, Ghost is technically correct. However, this one seems to be … comfortable to be here."
"Are you an officiando, Mister Atherton?"
Ambrose considers the gentle wave of gin running along the inside curve of his highball glass as he tilts it back and forth to swirl it. He shifts one ankle over the other and finally looks up between Fenris and Zatanna.
"You could say that I am an aficionado, yes. I know a few personages who own art galleries, but I have only visited their galleries the once and they did not have connections to any black markets. One might consider the larger galleries, like the Met, because money…will get you nearly everything in the end," he murmurs with a small, dark little smile.
"I don't think 'haunted' is quite the right word, Fenris, but close enough." Pepper looks over at Arananet sitting rather contentedly on Zee's arm, and is honestly impressed. Most people recoil from the spider at best. She pushes up her left sleeve, and taps at her freckled arm. "All right, Arananet, time for a rest." The spider seems to dissolve into smoke, which settles onto her arm and becomes what looks like a photorealistic spider tattoo spanning from her wrist to nearly the inside of her elbow.
"I'm guessing the modern art galleries can be counted out," she quips at the question about who might own art galleries. "I can think of about a half dozen possibilities off the top of my head, and I have the number for at least one of the Met's curators on file in my office. Did you want me to send out some feelers? I normally hunt for paintings or ceramics, but it shouldn't be too much of a stretch to make it sound like I want some jewelry for a special event or other."
At the admission that the items have been from other cultures as well, a visible weight seems to slip off of Alexander's expression as he straightens up. "Oh? Cool." But then he looks around the table. "I mean, overall it's not cool, just like that small bit is kinda cool. For me."
Then she offers her thoughts about Tyler and the Olympian youth waves it off, "I'm sure he'll be alright…" His blue eyes shift to the side, then back. Then to the side again. He shrugs a little. "I'll give him a call after all this and see if he answers."
Such a good friend.
"Haunted sounded slightly better than possessed…" Fenris murmurs and leans back, enjoying his ale. "I'll ask around. I know a woman up in St. Paul that might be some help. I could make introductions if a few of your are interested." Oh yeah. That'll be a hell of an introduction… don'tcha'know.
"Hopefully that was the end of it. If not… I'm sure Fear and Miss Potts and Ambrose can be of great help to you Zee. And a Cabaret, mmm? I haven't seen one since… um…" He thinks. "1972…"
You betcha! It will be a hell of an introduction. "If you have a connection, Miss Potts that would be wonderful. I'm poking around in more esoteric locations. Pawn shops, bric and brac places. When the man from my show recovers, I'll ask to question him. I have a … working … relationship with the police." beat "And yes, please, Fenris. That would be good. I'm prepared to do a lot of leg work on this."
And now she waits for the quips about fishnets.
"Well, I doubt I'll get Miss Minnelli, Fenris. And not exactly that type of Caberet. But somewhere where magicians can perform and earn a fee. This part of the business has been good to me and I want to give back. Besides, you never know who you might find with latent talents."
With a nod and a refill of her tea, Pepper smiles in quiet amusement at the Minnelli reference. "I'll start asking around tomorrow, then. And Fenris, when you can, if you can give me a more thorough description of that necklace? I think gold-colored and ancient Greek styling might be a bit on the vague side."
She looks over at Ambrose with perhaps a hint of concern.
Eyes narrowing wickedly, Alexander glances toward Pepper and asks, "Are you sure you don't want to take a closer look at it?" He asks faux innocently. "I mean, I'm sure we can have it brought over after everything. Get a real close gander? No."
And likely at that point he picks up the expressions of those around him who likely want to give him a good swift kick. And it's then that the smile breaks back to the fore as he maintains that innocence. "Wha?"
The Old Wolf nods. "That sounds decided then." Alexander gets a bit of a laugh and Pepper and Zee a nod. And theeeeeeen Fenris leans forward and looks right at the Jackal.
"Oh by the way, Ambrose. I got an interesting message. The Shadow Witch contacted me. She wants to speak to you about someone named 'Oliver.'"
Oh dear.
For a handful of seconds, Ambrose coughs and splutters through his half-inhaled mouthful of gin. He ends up half-curled upon himself, hacking into the elbow of his fine suit-jacket. Finally inhaling clearly, he sniffs and blinks a few times.
"Right — righto, yes, do let's talk to yet another mysterious magical being about the ruddy bastard who should still be dead." Realizing he's let slip more than he intended, the Jackal then slouches back into his chair. A finger lifts from the glass to point at Fenris. "I will not be going alone," he mutters with a squint.
"Naturally not. I'll call my sister. She'll keep you good company." The Old Wolf smirks and then downs the rest of his ale. He's teasing.
He IS teasing right?
Zatanna just smirks as Fenris and Ambrose banter. Alexander gets a quirk of her brow as he teases Pepper. "Let's order another round and prepare Mister Atherton to meet the Shadow Witch. Maybe I'll come along and see how she is doing."
With that, the Mistress of Magic gestures for Michael to come over. More drinks and then they can go.