Summary:A Dark Elf comes visiting looking for an artifact. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Referring Zeal to Zatanna reminded Dylan that he wanted to talk to her himself. It's so easy to get distracted with other things, most of which have a higher priority and one or two being more interesting. This time, he looked up her contact info with WAND and set up a meeting. He's claimed a table at the Bar With No Doors and is waiting with a drink in hand.
At least with the dome mostly down over Staten Island, there's some breathing space to be had for some. Somewhat for Zatanna, at any rate. There's still the problems she's been confronted with but a request to meet the Agent from WAND means she can get a small break.
Arriving at the bar, the dark haired mage is dressed in black jeans, biker boots, a tank top and a leather jacket over the top. A far cry from her stage costume but she is undeniably Zatanna still.
After ordering a drink, something pink, frizzy and sparkly, she approaches Dylan's table. "Agent Grey. You wanted to see me? How might I be of service?"
Dylan looks up when he spots Zatanna approaching and stands up. He's dressed in a button down, a blazer, slacks, and oxfords. "Ms. Zatara. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Please, join me." he invites, motioning to a chair. He waits to sit until she has. "I have a couple projects on my workbench that are somewhat complicated and could use your expertise in figuring out how best to accomplish them. Your assistance would likely save me a year's work."
Taking the seat, Zee takes a sip from the drink, savouring the flavour as she looks at the Agent. "Zee, please. And do tell me more, there could be many ways in which I might help."
Studying the agent, the mage considers. "I'm generally willing to help out a fellow practioner, as you'd be aware from my file. Consider me all ears. I'm given to understand that you … hail from Wales?"
"The Kingdom of Powys." Dylan agrees. "Now the Earldom. My projects involve the recent dome over Staten Island. Specifically, the crystals that were used to secure the enchantment. When the keystone crystal was destroyed, I collected the shards. I also have a couple whole crystals that they tried to place originally that still retain their enchantments. I wish to incorporate the enchantment, modified of course, into some existing artifacts."
"That's a very old Kingdom." Zee says with a smile. One that falters a little as Dylan explains. "That's not small magic your playing with. It can go wrong in a very big way." She warns. "Your an … artificer, yes? You have some experience in this."
"What is it you're trying to do with them?"
"I am and I do." Dylan confirms. "In certain ways, making what I want from scratch would be easier than trying to incorporate new magic into existing artifacts, especially ones that are a hundred years old. Or a thousand. On the other hand, it would certainly take much longer that way and the crystal should provide a short cut." He pauses to take a drink then continues. "The easier one is to incorporate the magic that let us resist the mental retrogression into my torc so that it's permanent." The one he's wearing that's visible around his neck since his collar is open. "We already know how to resist it so it shouldn't be too difficult. Then there's the more difficult project. Under the dome, Hengroen - my motorcycle - turned into a horse. I rather like him that way and a four legged animal can be more useful at times than a two wheeled motorcycle. I wish to be able to have him switch back and forth whenever I wish it."
"OK…" Zee agrees as she thinks. "Without analysing the artifact in question, I would agree that incorporating the charm for memory regression should be somewhat straight forward and I can see why you would want to do it. What do you know about the torque that you wear?"
"The other is a little more difficult. Does your cycle contain any form sentience? Or is it simply a cycle?" That will change how things might need to be done.
"Everything." Dylan reaches up to touch the torc. "It was made by my ancestor, Rhys ap Llywelyn, King of Powys and contemporary of Merlin and Arthur. I have his memories of how it was created. Hengroen is a little more recent, having been made by my grandfather in the early fifties. It contains a fire elemental that powers it and can pilot it. And if both of those go well, I want to incorporate something similar into my phone. Honestly, medieval artifacts can be quite crude and no one looking at a cell phone will consider it any more strange than its counterpart."
"Ah well then. I can certainly assist you. Particularly if you have the knowledge and understanding of how the torque was created. It won't be easy but as I'm sure you're aware, I provided a small number of tokens to SHIELD for Staten Island."
Sitting back, Zee looks around the bar thoughtfully. "You'll need to collect some components for the charm. I take it that would be acceptable?"
"As to … Hengroen. A fire elemental isn't something easy to wrangle. But it's not the elemental you're trying to shape is it? Just the casing. How do you feel about a charm that will allow that to happen, using the crystals you have - the issue of course will be that it will need charging from time to time."
"I wasn't thinking charms." Dylan tells Zatanna. "I was considering an approach that would incorporate the magic directly into the artifacts. Making the crystal shards part of them so that the enchantments are permanent. That way the next in line will continue to have the benefits without needing to think about it." He gives a bit of a smile. "If it won't last forever, it's not worth doing." Pause. "Unless it's an emergency, of course."
Zee is quiet as he thinks on that, working it through in her mind as she takes a drink.
"You are essentially talking about remaking the artifacts to incorporate the crystals. There is a level of risk in two way - the first being that there's a degree of reforging. The second being incorporating magic neither you or I know a lot about, there may be side effects." beat "If you're willing to accept that risk, I can assist you."
There's a sparkle to her eyes as she smiles. "I like a good challenge and this is a very good challenge."
"Well, no. Not reforging. That's actually part of where you'd come in." Dylan explains. "You see, my ancestor had the assistance of an angel when he made the swords. The enchantments in them, especially the ones that contain his memories, required a degree of power greater than he was capable of. Now, I'm not intending anything close to that but you're able to do what I cannot. In this case, casting magic to merge one artifact into another."
It's unusual to take Zatanna by surprise, but Dylan manages it. The dark haired mage blinks at him for a moment. "I'm glad you qualified that, because I'm no angel." She recovers quickly enough. "But what you're asking is for me to summon enough magic to do this."
It's still dangerous. If either one of them slips, the results could be messy.
"I think I can help you, Agent Grey. We will need an area to work in. One with a strong containment circle. I know WAND has its facilities and there's my workroom at Shadowcrest. I'm comfortable working in either once I have the right preparations in place."
"My castle has a fully equipped forge and magical workshop dating back to my ancestor. Either there or yours will do. I would guess WAND's is more generic so it's useable by everyone." Dylan states. "That kind of nondenominationalism would be something to work around, not help."
"Your castle. Colour me intrigued." Zatanna smiles brightly again. "If this is the forge and workshop that was used to do the original workings, then we should do it there." Magical attunement might be a consideration for the mage but she's also interested in seeing the castle.
"The WAND facilities are adequate but unlike 'home' they often miss things one grows accustomed to."
"When were you thinking of doing this?"
"It is. Castle Powis is the seat of the Earldom of Powis but it's also the center of the original Kingdom of Powys so my father and I… share it, so to speak." As to when, Dylan shrugs. "When we have the time and energy. Blocking the regression should be t he easy part; it's just a question of tricking the enchantment into seeing the objects as already regressed, hence the use of the crystal shards. Hengroen on the other hand… That I think will require a functional crystal to control the regression. There's undoubtedly other ways of changing a fire elemental possessed motorcycle into a horse but the crystal should be a short cut."
"Sounds delightful. Tell me there's the spirit of a Welsh dragon that frequents it." Zee sips from that drink again, the sparkles filling the bubbles that rise from the top. "I should have time in the next week, amageddons not withstanding of course." She'll have to rest up and that might be a little challenging.
"You said you had a functional crystal though? It's a novel way to consider doing it."
"Two of them." Dylan pulls out his phone and activates the gallery. He expands the thumbnails and swipes once or twice till he finds the pic of one of the whole crystals and turns it so Zatanna can see it. The phone radiates magic, of course.
The phone gets a quirk of her eyebrow. "Interesting little device you have here." She murmurs. "The crystal is in good condition, so that's a good thing. I'll need to study it in person of course but we can arrange that."
"If there's anything you can provide me on the working that was done to create the artifacts, I would appreciate it. The better prepared we both are the higher the chance of our success."
Dylan nods and and pockets the phone. "Easy enough. I can come by your home and leave one there for you to look over. Some of the shards as well. My thought on those is to forge them into gold wire then wrap the wire around the torc. You'd then meld the wire shards into the torc. Of course, we'd need to test the enchantment first. Hengroen I have fewer ideas about, it being the much more difficult enchantment."
"Intriguing. That would do it. You'll be able to find Shadowcrest in the directory. There are few enchantment protecting the front yard and door and if I'm not home at the time, Richard - my major domo - will be there." Zee maintains a modest staff at the manor.
"As for Hengroen, when I come by you can show me the bike itself and I'll see if I have any insight for you. Perhaps something infused in the engine itself. I'll have to look at some mechanical books for more inspiration."
"Or I'll ride him over when I bring the crystal." Dylan suggests. "Either way, that's fine. We're going to need to consider several angles then decide on the one that'll work best. Hengroen will need to be involved as well since he'll be in control of the change in form. It's a fun problem."
"It is indeed that. A fun problem that is less likely to kill you than other things we'll work on." Zee smiles and looks at her drink.
"I'm going to get another drink would you like a refill?" She's got a little time before her show tonight.
.~{:--------------:}~.
It's a dark and stormy night. Lightning flashes across the sky as thunder rolls and rumbles. It's the type of night that most people get take out and tuck up at home to Netflix and, possibly, chill.
Those with the right type of senses will feel as there's a ripple across the magical landscape. It starts like a boulder being dropped in a pond - enough to gain the attention of several practioners.
The locus? Storm King Mountain Park, out near Westchester.
For Asgardians, the feeling of the magic is … familiar. It's dark.
Though not technically an Asgardian, Loki is certainly close enough for government work. Indeed, his magical power is more in line with the strongest of the Vanir than with any Aesir, and him a Jotun! Talk about a mixed up mixed bag of contradictions!
Regardless, the Liesmith does in fact sense that dark power building so very close to where Loki calls home on Midgard, or…one of his homes, he's got a few. Either way, he senses it, and then rises to don armor and war gear before worldwalking to the locus.
Appearing near by, he cloaks his presence with sorcery and illusion, and then moves towards what he senses with care, daggers of silver and cold iron in hand but concealed behind his arms, his cape hiding easy line of sight even so.
As Loki arrives he senses the arrival of another - senses and sees it. A tall, dark haired woman in leather trousers, heavy boots that are almost biker boots, and a leather jacket, steps through a portal and gazes around.
Zatanna Zatara, Loki might recognise her from the billboards that pepper New York.
There's someone waiting there, in the clearing not far from where Loki lurks and Zee appears, a pale skinned being with bright red hair steps from a bridge of ebony black - the black bifrost.
"Ah, the Mistress of Magic. We thought you might stick your nose in. Or should I say that we hoped you would…"
"I'm sorry, I'm sure we've not been introduced." The blue eyed mage smiles brightly. She's keeping her distance though and Loki can see she's ready for anything.
Loki will recognise this dark elf, he goes by the name of Wormwood.
Leaning against a tree, Loki makes sure he has a good vantage point, mystic senses searching for any others…specifically any others that might be hidden even as he himself is. The silver dagger is sheathed, a second blade of cold iron drawn once he recognizes the Dark Elf.
A quirky smile, and then he concentrates as the true Bifrost seems to manifest, and 'Loki' appears to form a third point of a triangle with Wormwood and Zee. "Wormwood, meet the Mistress of Magic, Zatanna Zatarra…and Zatanna allow me to introduce the Svartalfar Wormwood." Loki's tones are rolling, and he fair to shines with his congenially as the illusory him looks to Wormwood. "So, what shenanigans are afoot tonight, old boy?"
Wormwood just smiles, in a creepily eerily way, at Zatanna and grins at 'Loki' as he appears. "Ah, right on time." the dark elf purrs as he plays with triangular blade that gleams pure silver. "Shenanigans? You sound like you don't know what we agreed! Shall I remind you? I've just come to ask the lady to return an artifact to us."
Zatanna looks between the !Asgardian and the Dark Elf "Artifact? Which one would that be? I have so many, you see?"
Is Loki really in on this? She's not sure.
"Oh, do do please remind me. I'm pretty old, Wormwood…so many things to keep track of." He looks to Zatanna then, and folds his arms behind his back, as he strikes a relaxed pose. He has to admit, the woman is lovely, and ooh…her magical aura even prettier to see. He can well understand how the name Mistress of Magic might fit.
And really, who wouldn't want such a woman as their Mistress? Magic has very good taste.
She does seem pretty calm, for the nonce the actual Loki will move a bit closer to Wormwood, eyes watchful and daggers held at the ready though still not visible easily.
So, Wormwood might not be sharpest knife in the drawer - regardless of how sharp that knife is he's handling.
He blinks at Loki and stutters for a moment, his eyebrows rising as he strikes on an answer. "That's right, I forgot how senile you're getting." He actually tries to wink at Loki.
Zatanna rolls her eyes and clears her throat. "If you gentlemen have finished? What artifact?"
"Hmmm? Oh… The Crown of Command. We want it back."
That has Zee's eyebrows rising even further. She's certainly good looking and keeps herself fit - it's likely because of the stage show.
"The Crown of Command never belonged to the Svartalfar. It was Avalons, well King Arthurs, and they stole it. Are you telling me you've misplaced a powerful artifact?"
Loki will know this. The Crown of the Command - an artifact of the Tuatha DeDanaan from Otherworld. The story goes that Merlyn created it to aid Arthur in repelling Morgan Le-Fey. The Dark Elf invasion saw it go missing and until now … it's whereabouts has been a mystery.
It's powers? It's said to enhance the magic of the person that wears. Of course - magic is never without a price - what might an artifact of such potency demand? Of course. These are all just rumours aren't they?
"More specifically he seems to think you or I have it." Loki's tone is thoughtful, well, the illusory him. The real him is edging around to get behind, though not too close to, Wormwood. Doesn't want to risk him sensing the cold iron after all, at least not until it is too late to do anything.
False Loki speaks on. "So…is the Mistress of Magic correct, did you manage to lose track of a legendary relic of surpassing power? That's quite unfortunate for you lot, I don't remember the Svartalfar being such butter fingers." He adds with a smirk.
Wormwood shakes his head and snarls in Zee's direction. "She knows we don't have it. Her family took it and now we want it back …"
If Loki is watching, there's a flicker of surprise on Zatanna's face, only briefly as she schools it back to polite amusement. "So you've come to ask me for it nicely?" That could be strange but the Zatara's are an old family and it's rumoured the family 'collection' is not only extensive but well guarded. "What if I chose not to return it?"
"Then you'll meet my friends …" The black bifrost operates again and three Hounds of Hell leap through. Hounds of the wild hunt that Malekith was said to once lead.
Two go for 'Loki' and the third for Zee, as Wormwood launches himself at the mage, dagger gleaming.
The false Like fights like a lion, his flaming sword Laevateinn drawn with practiced grace, and a dagger of Asgardian steel in the off hand. He also multiplies, a full dozen of him flickering in and out, masking which is the real him, and all of them fully realistic copies of the original (equally illusory) him they first attacked.
Once again his natural inclination to move about unseen pays a dividend - clearly, this is a good way to do things!
The God of Trickery does dispatch four of the illusions towards the fight with Zee and Wormy, seeking to distract the hound if nothing else. In the mean time he flips one of the daggers into a throwing hold, and does his best to concentrate on the illusions. He can only do so much, still, if Zatanna looks like she needs help, he'll drop the illusions and throw the dagger.
He throws hard and there's very very few people more dangerous /anywhere/ with a blade.
The hounds look confused before they even begin - they can't get a scent on the illusions. With a horrible howl, they turn on their heels and launch themselves towards the tricksters hiding place. It's probably a good thing he has the dagger, he's going to need it as the Hounds close on him, jaws snapping.
Zatanna is casting even as Wormwood attacks, arcane blue symbols forming as she speaks backward. The Hound leaps into a portal she opens in front of her. Where it goes, is probably a very good question. That leaves Wormwood and Zatanna casts again, throwing a shield of glowing blue in front of her - stopping Wormwood for just the moment.
It's precious time she's bought, though. Another spell starts.
That's the trade off - quantity leeches from quality. With a dramatic sigh he appears, the cold iron daggers used to defend himself, his movements swift and elegant, weaving and bobbing his body with sinuous grace even the blades are thrust and slashed in a baffling pattern that is hard to track.
Should he hit, he strikes with the full power of muscles able to rend tank armor behind that strike.
Being Loki, however, he can't help but try to make it more fun by attempting to move in such a way that at a key moment he can duck between them such that the hellhounds' attacks hit each other.
Loki can feel the hounds fetid breath on his face as they snap and snarl, trying to rend the Gods flesh from his bones.
The knife strikes one and draws blood. The Hound yelps but it just makes it angrier. As Loki flashes between them, the two hounds close on each other - just as the blades are driven between their ribs. Now, Loki is caught between the massive, pissed off, hounds. Who are, collectively, much much heavier than him.
As for Zatanna, she's good. The shield forces Wormwood to fallback. The Dark Elf is down his ally - heavens know where the hound of hell is - and he's facing a mage who is quite versed in using her magic in a fight.
The shield drops as Zatanna speaks the last of her spell. Two azure blue bolts speed from her hand and …. fizzle … about a foot before the dark elf. Now it's her and him, hand to hand …
Wormwood grins and dives, bringing his blade down to slice at Zatanna's face.
You know, that's the price you pay when trying to be too smart - again and again he does this to himself, fortunately he's about as good (nearly) at getting out of trouble as getting into it. Still, this is an awkward position he finds himself in. Fetid breath, massive dogs of hell, did he mention the foul stench of their breath? Yeah. "Ungh….you /really/ need to brush more, lads." Deliberately stated via AllSpeak so they can understand him.
And then he grins. "And you forget who you're dealing with, little hounds." Little?
Of course that assertion is proven when Loki's form blurs, shifts…and grows. Gone the form of Jotun seeming as a man…his body swells, sprouts wings, a tail, he becomes in a few heartbeats an emerald dragon with golden highlights to his scales. Now, he does not gain dragon magic, nor any powers other than mighty muscles, thick armor and multiple limbs to work with.
That should hopefully suffice as he /ROARS/ one of the hounds, turning quick as a cobra to swat at the other with his thick tail.
Loki can feel as Zatanna's magic seems to falter. Feel the swell of it as she casts and then the drain on it. The mage draws a long blade from the top of her boot. A Sgian Dubh - nothing to rival Wormwoods gleaming dagger but she certainly seems to know how to handle it.
Wormwoods blade slices her face, even as the magicienne ducks and weaves. Blood streams down her cheek as the sgian-dubh parries the blade. This is a nasty, nasty fight. One that Zatanna probably won't win - she's good, but she's not master fighter.
The hounds give Loki that kind of dopey look dogs get when you try to speak to them and they don't understand. Then Loki-dragon is there and before the hounds can react, the tail sends for them for six, ass over … tail.
A deep growl follows, and then another roar as Loki the Gilded Emerald drake leaps to land on one, mighty talons tearing and reding. The second he will trip with his tail once more, then see just how much of it's head he can remove with a bite…if any.
He can sense the fizzled magics, and snarls out in a voice rough, deep, and harsh. "Svartalfar are masters of countermagic, Lady Zatarra." As she has found out first hand and surely knew already - she's a very skill magess after all!
He then stomps the ground, blood running from a wound or two, and some from his jaws as he turns and then notes. "Wormwood…do you dare face me?" Zatanna he owes nothing, but…just maybe his help will leave HER in /his/ debt, and that's worth the effort.
Besides, Loki doesn't like Svartalfar.
"I know a counter curse, Loki, when I experience one." Zatanna pants, turning to the side trying to avoid another slash from the dark elf. It's mostly successful, she does take a gash on the arm though. "Hey. That's my favourite jacket… And I don't sense anything working against me here…"
"Don't give this *cuk kafali* any due. He's nothing more than lackey." Loki's allspeak will translate the turkish phrase easily.
Wormwood is distracted by Loki's taunt "When I've finished with the midgardian, I'll come for you …"
That's all Zatanna needs - she sends a round kick at the dark elfs legs, causing them to buckle and sending him sprawling in front of Loki.
A laugh fit to shake the ground. "Now now, forgive me, Lady…your prowess is well known, I meant no disparagement." Loki's thunderous vice answers. "Due? No, he's not even close to having paid his dues, and really, why insult the rest of the cuk cafali like that?" The mighty dragon's voice literally shaking the ground, the mockery having clearly shaken the Dark Elf's aplomb.
The dragong /grins/, and leaps into the air, plummeting before it becomes Loki again and he lands on Wormwood's chest, straddling. And that cold iron dagger is pressed to the man's skin, just below his right eye. "If you invoke any power, if you struggle…I will take the eye." He offers politely.
Then turns to Zatanna. "Lady, you were the injured party, what would you have Loki do?"
"You didn't, I know that." Zatanna answers. She's panting a bit from that fight. "I was merely observing that it is something else that was working against me and not this … creature." She smiles sweetly. "I shall be sure to apologise to the other cuk cafali when I see them."
Wormwood struggles and tries to wriggle free, but the cold iron dagger pressed to his flesh has him stilling.
"They want the Crown of Command and they think I have it. I'd like to know why. And I'd like to know why they want it…"
Wormwood looks stubborn, jaw set as he refuses to answer.
"Excrescence." Loki says. "I think that's a good word for him, though if you'd allow two I'd go with 'festering pustule' to really build the proper image of respect and admiring esteem." He laughs delightedly at the sweet smile, and wry commentary. "Well, you're just as charming as you are lovely, Lady Zatarra, so rarely do art and life meet so well."
He looks then to Wormwood, edging the very sharp dagger closer to the eye. "Hold still." He advises warmly, and then cuts off a couple eyelashes. "You might want to consider answering the lady, Wormwood, old boy…once I run out of lashes I'll start on the eye." His tone? Cold as space, and utterly sincere.
"Are you trying to flirt with me, Loki?" Zatanna smirks as her booted foot rests on Wormwoods chest. "What do you think, Wormwood? Festering pustule, do you like that?" For one who is so bright and bubbly on stage, there's a dark side to the Zatanna Zatara.
Wormwood doesn't even blink as Loki slices those eyelashes. The look of hatred though, that's memorable. Loki's probably seem it a few times before.
Before anything else can happen, the black bifrost activates again and the dark elf is snatched away. The lashes still sit on the edge of Loki's blade as Zatanna's foot hits the ground.
"Well, to quote the Witcher. Fuck." She says.
"Hopefully better than 'trying'." The Trickster says with a bright grin, and mirthful green eyes looking up at the woman as she plants a foot on the fallen Dark Elf.
Oh, a hate filled look? It must be Thursday, one of the '-day' days, that's certain.
And then Wormwood vanishes, and Loki /laughs/ with delight. "Fuck indeed. HE is fucked." He holds up the blade, the lashes still on it. "Curse? Summons? Death spell? What say you, Lady Magus? Perhaps cover his face with oozing pustules so outside and inside match?"
Never let it be said that Loki is slow to find a party in the offing!
Zatanna laughs. "I don't flirt with married men." She says. "And I've heard you can be very trying…." The amusement is short lived though as Loki holds up that blade. "Save them. You might want them. There's something going on here…"
"That's not the first time I've seen a hound of hell in the area recently. The last one was at my club …" Wait, Zatanna has a club? "… and someone has been sending cursed artifacts to New York. Ones, that I'll find."
The Hounds of Hell are a concern. It speaks the involvement of the dark elves or one in particular, at least.
"I was also told by the Finder to seek my answers from the Emyris. And now, someone comes looking for one of the Tuatha De Danaan's relics."
She hasn't said she has the Crown either.
"Why were you here?"
"What a quaint notion, Norse marriages are not monogamous…but…" A deep and florid bow. "…as you wish, lady." Rising, he puts the lashes away carefully and sheathes his dagger. Noting the cut on her arm, he murmurs softly, a healing spell and is technique is pretty slick, it is designed so the recipient needs to accept it for it to work. Not a very strong spell, but a well crafted one.
"Cursed artifacts? That's…most peculiar." He looks to the fallen hounds, chin pointing. "The master of the hellhounds is Malekith, if that is of use to you to know."
He nods about the Tuatha De, and the circumstances. "The timing is a bit too convenient it seems." *beat* "You have a club?" Yes, priorities!
"Me? I sensed darkling magic being raised - I was mostly just curious, honestly."
"No, but Norse myths are full of what happens to hapless Midgardian who strays between a Goddess and her God." Zee points out, glancing down as her arm starts to mend. "My thanks, Lord Loki. For the heal and the assist - I don't know what happened but that could have been a lot worse than it was."
"Hmmm. Malekith. I had read that he was the Master of Hounds, but is he still?" That's a good question and potentially one that needs to be answered. "He had once tried to invade Avalon, I understand." Avalon, in Otherworld. It is all a bit too circumstantial.
And there was the drain on her power as well. Not that Zee makes a lot of that. Loki will have noticed but what did make of it?
"Ah yes. I signed the documents last week. The Alhambra Theatre, or at least one floor of it, is now mine. I'm opening a magical caberet, I suppose you can say."
"Well, I'm sure that Faithful Sigyn would not be offended, but again, I will honor your request. I am a God of many hungers, but never will I force my attentions where there is any hesitation, or doubt." A smile. "That's not fun, mm?"
Loki waves off the thanks. "A small thing, Lady, and I admit that I'm not really fond of that poseur, Wormwood, his name is half right - he's a worm, I doubt he has the blood flow for any wood."
Loki nods. "Good questions, I know little of recent events with Malekith, my relations with the Svartalfar not the most cordial, I can look into it however."
He did notice the power drain. "Lady…when your shield spell failed, your magic was diminished…I could not get any sort of signature to the effect. It was /not/ Wormwood's work. Have you encountered such before?"
He grins at the news of the Cabaret. "Oh, that sounds like fun." He offers her a card. "Do please let me know when you open, I should like to see the festivities."
Zatanna just laughs again. She's used to being flirted with. As to Wormwood, she chuckles "Ah well. I think he'll have a hard time getting wood from now on." beat "If you would make enquiries, I'll do the same and check my library. Maybe there's a reference there to the Crown - we Zatara like to collect things. Normally because they're dangerous and need to be kept away."
There's a shake of her head about the power drain. "Not that I can say I have noticed, no. As I said to you, it did not have the hallmark of a counter spell or curse. It … was something else. I shall comb this area and make sure there's no wards." It's possible she supposes but she doesn't think so.
"Oh, I will. You and your Lady wife are always welcome."
And Loki loves to flirt, to tease, sometimes to torment…whatever…so long as the banter is snappy, he'll do it all and gladly. "Well he's gone now, I don't think he'll be popping up any time soon." Oh, the innuendo. "I will be pleased to, Lady. Do please drop by Cover Story any time, you're most welcome as well. I know my Lady Wife would adore having you by, she so enjoys hosting a guest. Indeed, if you ask nicely she might even consent to cater your opening. Trust me when I say this, my wife's cooking is /not/ to be missed."
He nods about the effect. "What is particularly odd is that any signature, any 'fist' as it were, was absent. That is something that takes a GREAT deal of power and skill to achieve unless it was some sort of natural phenomenon."
He rises then. "It was very nice to meet you." If she permits he'll place a very chaste kiss to the back of her hand and then as he straightens, fades away. His voice however, lingers, emanating from the air by her ear. "Thank you for a most enchanted evening, Zatanna Zatara, Mistress of Magic. I look forward to our next meeting."