11431/Someone Should Have Warned Him.

Someone Should Have Warned Him.
Date of Scene:	01 June 2022
Location:	The Velvet Room - Sitting Room
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Michael Hannigan, Sara Pezzini

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Michael Hannigan has posed:
The night is still young. Or is it day? Just where is the Velvet Room in relation to the waking world? Either way, the lounge is pretty low on occupants at the moment. One long haired gentleman sits at the bar with a glass of dark liquid.

Despite the low number of persons in the bar. Nameless seems to be in a peppy mood, playing a rather lively rock number with some added beat.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
So many hats to wears, so little time. It was early evening in the real world, in the astral plane where the Velvet Room resided, who knew? It could be morning, could be the middle of the night, from what Sara understood is was all up to what a person wanted when they entered. Even clothing changed, but not for her. She never imagined up anything special, just a nice, tailored suit. The type she couldn't wear in the real world because Witchblade /loved/ destroying them.

Hearing the piano going as she headed for the sitting room, she knew that meant someone was there. Nameless rarely played just to be playing, but then again being a sentient piano, maybe he did.

Stepping into the room her eyes scan it out of habit, entrances, exits, and who was there.... and there he was... again.

"You certainly get around," she offers as she approaches the bar, already in an arguement in her head with Witchblade about him. "Enjoying your evening?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike didn't think to change his attire. So while Sara went for the suit. Mike stuck with the jeans and a tee. Summer days lead to summer ways. Hearing another voice, he looks away from the drink over Sara's way.

There's a pause. "Are you following me?" He asks. And for the slightest moment one could imagine concern in the tone. But then he smiles. "Two times in a row. Hope that doesn't mean something major's about to happen."

As the piano's notes die away at the end of the song, Mike looks over towards the stage. His head tilts curiously. And when the song starts back up again, he turns back to the bar, tugging a pen out of his pocket to put another tick mark on the cocktail napkin.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Repeating songs, over and over, it was one of the reason Sara usually avoided this room. She didn't mind music, but to have the same tune going for hours, that was enough to drive any sane person to murder.

"Yes, that's exactly it," she teases with a grin, moving to get herself some coffee before settling herself on a stool. "I'm following you."

A soft snorted laugh follows as she adds cream to her coffee and stirs. "No idea how I keep running into you after not seeing you for so long," she then admits with a slight shrug. "Was going to have a beer last night, but called back to work. Tonight, I needed to check in on things here before heading home. You just happen to be in both locations."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike chuckles as he puts the pen back, "Ah. I seem to have that effect on some people." He responds, playing along with the joke. "I live near the Wick. And the last time I was brought here, we got sidetracked by a haunted doll so I didn't really have much chance to have a look at the place."

He looks to the glass of liquid, "...Although, I do have a tendency to wander into weird situations. Like the time with that magic boom box. And the Zodiac stuff at the museum."

A glance is given to the stage, "...Sorry about the piano. I needed some variety. Didn't know about the repeating."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Blue eyes shift to look at the piano for a moment as Sara considers, only briefly, how many axe blows it would take to end the song forever. She wouldn't really do it, it was a fleeting thought, and then she looks back to Michael.

"Should I be fawning over you and asking for your autograph," she asks in the flatest, near monotone way she can... it was almost perfect but then a huge smile spread across her face. "I'm only teasing."

After a sip of the coffee she gets herself a little more comfortable on the stool. "Did anyone warn you that some of the rooms move around? The five main rooms will always be where they are now, but everything else moves," she continues. "I stick to the five main rooms right now myself, because I'm pretty sure I'd end up lost and that would tick Witchblade off and well, I don't like listening to him ranting about purchasing a map for a place that can't be mapped."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I'd assume if you wanted an autograph, you'd have done that years ago." Mike responds, "Also you haven't thrown anything at me yet so I figure I'm good as far as you're concerned."

He takes a cautious sip of the contents of his glass. A brow lifts before he takes another sip, giving a shrug.

The glass sets back down, "I wasn't even warned about the piano." He admits, "We were a bit busy trying to figure out what the doll wanted so regular warnings probably were forgotten."

He glances to one of the doors. "...I'd assume after a bit you'd find your way out."

He pauses, "...Witchblade?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Oh boy.

Witchblade was no longer a secret, that part of Sara's life was over when she joined the Avengers, but it still something of a surprise when she spoke about him. She was still adjusting to the fact that she /could/ talk about him. The news had reported about her taking over the Special Investigation Unit of the NYPD, but they hadn't gone into details about her beyond being the lead detective and part of the Avengers.

"Right," she says perhaps too calmly, then sets her coffee cup on the bar top. "I'm still not used to this, but he and I made the decision it was time to come out of the shadows and be known."

Pulling the sleeve of her jacket back from her right wrist, she reveals a rather intricate silver bracelet with a large red stone in the center of it. Intertwined with it is what looks like a second bracelet with a smaller red stone. Just looking at it, it seems like nothing spectacular at all, just jewelry.

"Mike, allow me to introduce Witchblade," she says and as she speaks the larger of the red stones changes, becoming an orb of red swirling spoke with a hot spot of yellow, almost looking like an eye. "He is a sentient ancient artifact created by Gaea herself to battle the Old Ones and restore balance. This is his resting form."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike studies the bracelet, when the stone starts to change, he tilts his head. The explanation does help a bit. "Ah, so a magic artifiact. What does it do?"

The piano finishes up. Mike turns his head to look to the stage. As the song starts up again, the musician pulls the pen back out, clicking it on to make another tic mark. "Twenty so far." He explains.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
At some point Sara has heard how many times the piano repeated a song, but she never remembered. More than twice was to many, so after twice she tried to tune it out.

"He's a little more than magic, but at the simplest that explains it," she comments, turning her wrist around to look at the stone. He didn't know that in her head she was telling Witchblade to be nice, it was the sort of mental conversation that just happened and only a telepath, who was insane, would try to reach in and find out about it.

"I can show you one of his true forms," she then says, and turns her hand back around. As she does this, the bracelet expands into several mental tendrils that almost appear liquid in nature. These tendrils wrap up her arm to the elbow, without shredding the sleeve of her jacket, and form together into an intricate gauntlet with clawed fingers. The red stone, still swirling like smoke, rests directly on the back of her hand, still watching Mike.

"This is his truest form, from it he can form any kind of melee weapon desired, as well as armor that covers my body, destroying my clothing which is why I won't show it without back up attire." There is something akin to irritation in her tone at that last part, probably related to losing numerous outfits and the fact that naked was not legally acceptable.

"He choose me as his Wielder," she continues to explain. "Three years ago, I was near dead when an undercover operation went south. He choose me, healed me and has been with me ever since."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Watching the gauntlet form, Mike watches with interest. Usually when stuff is going crazy, that's not the time to be just kicking back to just watch what's going on. Milk every detail. Or in this case watch the tendrils form an item of protection in movements similar to the strokes of a pen. "I bet that was alarming the first time it happens." Mike comments.

He nods to the added description and more so as she explains why that's as far as she'll go for a demonstration. "Yeah, that's understandable. I'd hate having to go buy a new outfit every time I encounter trouble."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Collecting her coffee cup with her left hand, the right one is a gauntlet after all, Sara takes a sip as she settles in. Now that Witchblade was out, he wasn't going back just yet. Sometimes it was the price you paid when a sentient artifact chooses you.

"The first time was an armed robbery," she chuckles. "Only they weren't just your average thieves. These were a couple of demons wearing human skins. /I/ didn't know that, but Witchblade did. They wiped out some bad ass looking swords on fire and bam... no more clothing, just armor covering most of the important parts of my body and I had a sword in my hand."

Glancing down at the gauntlet for a moment, the memory of that moment filled her brain as if it had just happened yesterday, but the memory for her ended there. "That's all I remember of it however, until about twenty minutes later when I had control again. The beginning days were a constant struggle for control over my own mind and body, but he and I have come to an agreement at this point."

Glancing back over to him, she offer a smile, "But enough about me... wait..." He can see the expression on her face change for the briefest of moment, witness that quick inner struggle between wielder and Witchblade. Her eyes seem to glass over then return to normal in a blink of the eye. "... Fine, I'll ask. He wants to know what you are, he's never sensed a being like you before and he's edgy, on guard because of it."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks to the gauntlet, seeing the stone still kind of looking his way. If that's what that it is doing. "I'm still human." He responds, frowning a bit, "I'm just-" He pauses, "It's called a phantasm. I don't know if that's what it always was called. But that's what they seem to prefer going by now. They're dream based. And, if need be I can become one. Or at least close enough to one that I can call describe myself as one."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"Was it an entity of some kind?" Sara asks though really it's not her question at all. "Or a choice you made to accept this... dream power?" The coffee cup is set down again and she lays her left hand over the red stone. "You'll have to forgive him, he's protective and when he doesn't understand something, he wants answers. He is screaming in my head, and I'm trying to ask only the questions that might not be too... nosy."

She sighs, shaking her head a little then uncovers the stone. "Yes, he is looking at you, but he's not afraid of you. He's extremely curious, which for him is a major improvement over what would have happened about six months ago in this situation."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I'm not sure how to answer that." Mike admits, looking up to Sara, "I think there's more in dreams but, if what I got is an entity, it is awful quiet." He frowns, "It's more like I have a worn manual shoved in my head and half the pages are stuck together."

He glances back to the gauntlet, "I don't know exactly how I got the powers. I was out cold when it happened. I just suspect I picked the wrong bar to go have a drink in."

Says the guy who is drinking an unidentified black substance from the unusually labeled alcohol selection in the magic bar.

This does not seem like a stretch.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
There is a few minutes of quiet from Sara as she listens to Witchblade, but her eyes remain focused on Michael, no glassing over this time.

Finally, after a sip of coffee she nods and says, "Thank you. He gets nosy, but accepts your answer... very descriptive way of explaining it too. I hope you can forgive me for having to ask, but if I didn't I would spend the next week listening to him whining in my head about /not/ asking and how could I and he needed to know and it was just a couple of question."

She starts chuckling a little as she tries to express what it's like living with someone else in your head, a part of your body and soul. "He hates when I explain it this way, but it's the easiest way," she grins, clearly about to piss off the ancient artifact and not caring. "He's nearly as old as the universe, but has spent so much of his existence either floating through space, serving specific purposes with other wielders, or forcing his will on them, that he's much like a spoiled ten year old when it comes to some things. He holds the memories of every wielder he's ever had, but he's never taken the time to actually /live/ those memories. So with me, he's learning about the world he serves and the people in it, and learning he doesn't get to have it his way all the time."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Having appeased the Witchblade's curiousity, Mike gives a nod. "Well, whatever helps keep the peace." Mike reples, venturing a smile as the Piano in the background dies away.

Silence.

...

Oh good so only twenty-

And the song starts again.

Lips thinning, Mike pulls out the pen and clicks it open once more. "...Twenty one."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara can't help it, she starts laughing. She just seemed to realize what he was doing, counting out the number of times, making the hash marks. "Oh lord, are you really..." she leans over to look at the napkin. "Yep, you are. I think... twenty-three times, but I could be wrong."

"Okay, so..." she finally stops her laughing. "Now you get to ask me questions, that's how it works. It's only fair, and it helps to get to know a person."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks to the napkin as Sara scootches over to look. As she confirms his count he gives a nod to her conclusion. Yes. He is counting the times that song is being played.

The invite to ask qeustions is considered, "So, did you get the Witchblade at the robbery or, did you just come across it one day to be surprised later?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"My partner and I were undercover," Sara begins, glancing around the room as if she expected to see someone else there. "It wsa a smuggling operation, bringing in artifacts from around the world to sell on the black market. Not the normal kind of thing we would get involved in, but there had been a few murders, so it fell to us."

Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head a touch and sighs that breath back out. "It went bad, because Irons was involved. I don't know how they knew we were cops, but they opened fire. Killed my partner and I was bleeding out. Witchblade was one of those artifacts, he choose me in that moment and I still don't know why. What I do know is that this is what I was meant for."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike nods. "So, the discussion with Witchblade isn't quite a back and forth one, I take it? I'd think the first thing I'd want to ask if I was given a chance to would be 'Why?'."

He pauses, "Sorry about your partner. I do know what its like to lose people."

He looks down to his drink, "Probabaly the main reason I was even in that bar that time."

The piano starts the song again. "Twenty-Two."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara takes a moment to consider the answer, chewing a little at the bottom lip. "When he chooses a wielder, they don't get a choice," she says first, still working through the answer in her head. "He chooses them because they have a connection to something, but even he can't explain what or why. He merely /knows/ they are meant to wield him. And those who aren't, and try to put the bracelet on... they lose their arm for it."

"I used to ask why, why me? Why was I chosen? It took the archangel Barachiel geasing us, for me to just accept that there is only one why, and that answer is, because."

Canting her a touch, she watches his face. "There may be a way to see what happened in that bar," she then states. "I can't promise it would work, but I might be able to see back to the events that occurred."