12390/Spacial Oddities at the Curio

Spacial Oddities at the Curio
Date of Scene:	10 August 2022
Location:	The Curio
Synopsis:	A bit if random conversation at The Curio turns into exposition as Michael and Zatanna hear Phoebe's latest theory on the unicorns and their captor. Michael gets a little background into why Phoebe looks so tired and can no longer speak. Poor Thomas Blake misses out on the exposition thanks to a phone call
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Michael Hannigan, Thomas Blake, Zatanna Zatara
Tinyplot:	Wellspring of Song
Tinyplot2:	Theme_of_the_Crime

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THE CURIO.

    People are being drawn here, whether it's by an antique playing card stamped over with the Curio's address, books of matches with green sulfur tips on them showing up in coat pockets, or just A Feeling as one walks down the street in the Cauldron neighborhood of Gotham. There's really nothing to denote that the place is anything special from the front doors to a very normal and slightly worn tenement building, and the sign pointing to the Impossible Stairs down to the bar area, where some vaporwave beats are playing.

    A very goth lady with blue hair is tending the bar, humming along to the beat. Off to the side a familiar looking bag was sitting on the floor, its owner head-in-arms on one of the tables.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Being that Mike lives in New York now. There's no REAL hometown bar for him. So any bar that doesn't look like all the tables would be taken is fair game. Considering the events of today, this bar will do just fine. At the entrance, the musician stops, holding the door open for his companion. "...First two rounds are on me." Mike offers.

His attire is somewhat nicer than the last time. Slightly higher quality clothes. Almost like he had to do something work related today. But it's still Jeans and a Tee.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake enters fuming. He was ranting and already crested. "You didn't have to fucking quit for me. Just because I told them where to go, doesn't mean we're joined at the lips. We'll drop all charges if you quit and return the stolen property. Well I quit! Fuck you all very much. I want out of my executive producer position as well and you can return my investment to me. fucking suits. Oh... this place looks great... is that girl with the bag passed out? Always a good sign. A warm cozy sort of bar. See she's not afraid to take a nap and her bag is still here. Do not try this in the Black Market. Last time I zoned out I came to on a freighter bound for Corto-Maltese,,, hey excuse me, Miss? I respect a bender as much as the next guy but are you okay?" He checks to see her head is turned the right way in case she gets sick. Bar etiquette.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    'Fuck you all very much' was an emotion that the girl could understand. She mutely waves off Thomas and Michael, and as she sits up, the latter may recognize her as she sits up. The short shorn hair, the tired expression and the wide collar at her throat as she leans back, and rubs her sunken eyes with her palms, and then blinks owlishly at the two, sliding the 1929 stock papers into her bag again as she looks to them both, motions with an open palm and then gives a shrug? How can she help?

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike steps in, letting the door close behind him as he follows after the larger man. "Tom, the only reason I even considered that role was because you asked me to. Also it's not a big deal for me. I got other offers waiting." He starts to glance around, "Oh and it's not joined at the lips, it's joined at the h-"

Mike comes to a stop, looking to the one Thomas was talking to. "...Ok this has got to be a record for running into people." The musician lifts up a hand giving a small wave, "Hey again." He glances around once more before looking back to the quiet one. "...I didn't just walk into another scavenger hunt, did I?"

Not quite what happened, but close enough in term. Eh.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake wags an eyebrow at the musician before giving him a hug. "We been joined at both Mr. Pedantic."

He looks at the mute young woman and says, "Help us? Yes. You can join us when I buy a round for the house... this place takes credit cards, right? Let me find out. Then Mike can introduce us, properly." He heads over to the bar, his anger of a few moments before forgotten.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THe Bartender in Blue looks to Thomas and arches a finely shaved eyebrow. "We're arcane, not archaic. ID and card please to open a tab. Luckily --" she motions with her head to the girl in the sweatshirt, "she's a light weight, What'll you have?" she asks Thomas.

    Phoebe breathes out and shakes her head. She holds up a glass that's been emptied, and gives a sheepish smile to Mike as she pushes herself back. Her fingertips are stained with something that looks like red ink, it's gotten under her nails.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Feeling the arms wrap around, Mike's expression lightens. The line of his lips twist upwards as he leans back into the embrace for a moment. "Ok. Point." He agrees, turning to look to Thomas once the brief hug is broken. He glances to the bar as Thomas avoids the offer from the door by starting up the round on the house. "His second and third drink is going on mine." He states to the blue haired woman.

The musician looks over to smiling Phoebe and then to the emptied glass. "Guess you've ended up with some company." He comments, giving a chuckle, "Got a notepad on you by any chance? I'm no good with ASL."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
    A vertical purple line sizzles in the air, presaging the appearance of a an elegantly booted foot. It leads to a stylishly clothed leg and the rest of the magician steps through the portal.

    Pushing back her raven hair, she inclines her head to the two men and gives them a half-smile, "Gentlemen. You are in good company." The smile deepens as she says, "Phoebe don't believe a word out of Blake's mouth."

    A more complex expression is reserved for Phoebe. Zatanna tilts her head, the smile sobering somewhat and warming, too, as she regards the young woman, "We missed you at breakfast, dear. How are you?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake brings his drinks back to the table and sees Zatanna. He sets it down to give her a Hollywood style near kiss. "How are you, drink up on me?"

He turns to Pboebe and sticks out a hand. "Thomas Blake. I seem to keep running into arcane-ity. I'm about as magic as a pair of those x-ray specs they used to sell in comics. I am a good listener though, and not nearly as bad as my reputation. Mike will bear this out." Stage glare at Mike.

"Anyway, I still spin a good story. I should write a book someday."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she pulls a college-rule notebook covered in tiny batman symbols from her bag. Yes. It *is* officially liscenced.

    She straightens up a moment, and she looks up to Zee with a little bit of fear as she steps out of the portal -- sort of the same 'caught in the cookie jar' expression one might have on a kid, and she makes sure her little cardboard box is firmly closed and held with her variety sharpies in her bag.

    -We are now in good company that Zatanna is here.- she writes on her notepad.

    And then to Zee she scribbles:

    -Rough night. Business. Have headache from magical telepathy yesterday.-

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As Phoebe confirms having a notepad. Mike smiles, "Good That'll come in handy. I'll go see about getting you a refill." Catching a glimpse purple where purple wasn't before, Mike turns his head. The stylishly clothed leg achieves its objective as eyes set upon it. The glance travels along the form as the rest of the body appears, revealing another familiar figure. "Small world." Mike murmurs. Giving a nod to Zatanna.

As Thomas starts to undersell his arcane experience, he does give a nod to the mention of being able to support him not being as bad. "He was very helpful with a demon problem I was having last year." He admits, planting the seed of conversation for the remaining three while he heads to the bar to put in his drink order, and something for Phoebe.

If it turns out to be water, blame the bartender.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
    The magician doesn't need a crystal ball to see the faint ashen color under Phoebe's rich skin tone and the marks of little sleep in the darker half-moons under her eyes. Zee wings an apology to her with a subtle lift of a shoulder and the barest head shake. Her eyes rest a moment on the bag next to her and glance away with no comment.

    "It is, isn't it?" she agrees, flashing Mike a brief smile. "Good to see you."

    "I would venture that Thomas has more close-up experience with the arcane than he admits. Some people just do. It is like it finds them whether they will or not."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake shrugs. "Honey, I co-habited with the arcane a number of times. I got very good at getting the drop on demons who were used to average humans. Also beat the crap out of the Gentleman Ghost, with a lot of help. I don't really know where I fit in these days. But thank you Zatanna. Praise means a lot coming from you." He says, "Well I gather your name is Phoebe, you have very interesting ink under your fingernails for doing accounting, and you are burning the candle at both ends. Mike should tell you not to do that. My girlfriend is the same way... on two teams I know of... regular job, learning magic, and then doing workouts with me to learn martial arts. I tried to tell her to take it easy and wound up taking her to dinner and a night on the town." He sits down and starts on his drink, a White Russian.

"I know Catman lllikes a drink with milk innnit... ever since I saw The Big Lebowski."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe replies with a shrug. What are you gonna do. She had given a little wave to Thomas as he introduced himself, but eschewed any shaking of hands. Not with the red ink under her fingernails and staining them, for certain. She tilts her head a moment as she listens to Blake, and to Hannigan, but she has a flash of shame when she pushes her bag further to the side, specifcally so Zee can't look into it. Blame her former mentor; he'd have lifted whatever she was trying to hide and already stuck it in his own pocket.

    Phoebe's very neat handwriting answers back:

    -More than two ends, but used to it.-

    The drinks come back to the table; the bartender apparently knows what Zee likes; it's a pommegranate martini, with some of those bright arills in the bottom.

    Phoebe's is literally just sprite mixed with oringina, except it has a little curl of orange peal at the top.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As the other three get to chat, Mike patiently waits for the pair of drinks to be made. The group's not too far away so he can still get the gist of what's being said. He glances back as Thomas suggests that he should tell Phoebe not to burn the candle at both ends. He quietly looks back to the bar, murmuring his thanks as he collects the drinks being set before him.

The musician moves back to the table, setting the orangey drink in front of Phoebe. The tall glass of black liquid is set down at his seat.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
    Zatanna had witnessed the caprices of Phoebe's parent and others presenting themselves as such. She ascribes to a hands-off approach. Phoebe is no longer a child and as painful as it may be to watch, she must be allowed to make her own mistakes. The magician's mouth tightens somewhat as she steels herself to act on her principles.

    "Mmmm, love pomegranite. Thank you Phoebe!"

    Turning to Blake, she observes, "It's not always easy to live with the arcane. Even for someone who grew up in a sorcerer's household. But not many can deal with demons, it takes a knack that not many people have." She nods and holds up her glass to the man.

    Angling herself to face Hannigan, "So what brings you here, Mike? They do pour a good drink which is reason enough." Zatanna's eyes drift back to the bag and she averts them deliberately.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake says, "Most of the demons I met are just evil enough to avoid being fired, and just scared enough of their bosses not to try running. They're like any other predator. If you act like prey you're screwed. If you go aggro on them it usually messes them up. That's the rank and file type anyway. Princes and... princesses, yu better have something to back up your attitude." He looks to Mike to see what explanation he has. Phoebe's bag gets a glance but, people who pry in his lifestyle wind up dead. Instead he ventures, "I met Detective Chimp yesterday."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    -All I did was tell them what you used to get elsewhere Z- Phoebe scribbles, and she takes a breath, and she brings her fingers up to the wide collar at her neck at the mention of demons, her ears getting a little hot.

    She breathes out, andshe gives a small shrug.

    -Lived with magic since 13/14. Was self-taught until 17.- she writes on her notebook, and then she looks up to Zee -- she's seen where the eyes are going to, and she looks up, her lips puckering a moment before she breathes out and she drops her shoulders.

    -Dismissed five demons over the course of 7 mo. at a laundromat + closed gate they were using.- she writes of her own experience.

    She sips her definitely non-alcoholic drink.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike, having relocated his ass to the chosen chair is in the process of lifting the glass to his lips for a sip. When Zatanna asks the reason for his being here, he gives a shrug, "Just some business at one of the studios in the city dealing with stupid politics. This place was close enough so thought we'd get some drinks after."

Mike glances over to the notepad, skimming through the response. "Hmm. 21 for me. Kind of."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Spoken like a someone who knows their stock in trade," Zee agrees with a nod and a sip of her red martini. "Phoebe has a dab hand with them." She catches Phoebe's reddened face and takes a deep breath soldiering on.

"Yes, one had better pony up for royalty, they can bite," she says with a meaningful lift of an eyebrow. Demons have been to the magician's great sorrow a large part of her life and she is not inclined to elaborate on it.

    Mention of Detective Chimp brings a smile to her face, "Have you now? He's back! Now, there is someone who can drink with the best of them. What did he have to say?"

    Zatanna glances at Mike with an inquisitive look. "Is someone being a jerk?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake ponders tossing some of his antics out. Did for two assassins who tried to off him at AlcheMax. Destroyed a ring poaching ghost lions in Algiers for Ra's al Ghul. Swam ten miles round tip into Gotham Bay through Hell's Gate to perform his charitable act.

Naaaaaah.

Instead he says, "I never dispelled a demon. I did bite this one guy's ear off. I wore it around my neck when he came calling and that goaded him into running right into some wards that tasered his ass. I finished up on him. He was as dumb as he was ugly... okay the Ex's wards helped."

"Well I made a bad impression on the detective. I thought it was one of those hidden camera shows, like that jerk, Carbonaro, does? Then I thought he was going to an opera. He wants to come to the house and talk to my tiger and make sure he's all right. I agreed... being a responsible big cat owner."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe draws her notebook back, and she scribbles on it a moment, before striking it out entirely, pulling the page out and stuffing it into her bag before she writes in response:

    -I'm getting used to office and posh politics. Would rather be dealing with demons. At least you know they want to stab you in the back. People pretend to be your friend first- she writes, sliding it over to Mike.

    And then she stares at Tom. She tugs on her own ear, and then makes a shrugging, questioning motion before she adds:

    -Sounds like my friend Impulse. Definitely an animal person-

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Rude too. Demon deserved it." Mike adds in, endorsing Thomas's unlicensed practice of otoplasty. To add to the point he gives a nod.

Pale eyes glance back over to Zatana as she inquires to someone being a jerk, "That's putting it lightly. But that's back at the studio." He lifts up his glass, "Right now we have drinks." He takes a moment to sip his beer.

Hearing the notepad rub against the table on its way to him, the musician lowers his glass, quietly reading what she wrote. Mike snerks, giving a nod. "It's alright. Give it a few days. My agent will rip them a new one."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
    "That is so like Detective Chimp," Zee smiles affectionately as she remembers the Detective. "He isn't one to guard grudges though, he'll come right with you, I'm sure. And, there are not many of his kind in the world so you made an honest mistake."

    Leaning on an elbow to read Phoebe's contribution, she nods several times, "True enough, most of the time. Show business is rife with them." Does she mean demons or backstabbers?

    "Mike can tell you or his manager can after he has finished his analplasty," Zee pretends complete innocence and sips more martini.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake says, "I've dealt with writers, directors and producers. It'd be a breath of fresh air to deal with honest, hardworking criminals, and psychos again." Small wink. "Okay, We're off that damn show but... that show numbered a fair number of villains among their fans. The execs may get more than hate mail. I'd love for them to come out of work and find their cars are in blocks of ice, say. Karma."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Thomas gets a call, and Phoebe watches as he departs. Showbusiness people are weird, she decided long ago, but the ones who cross showbusiness and the arcane? They're a special kind of masochist. Phoebe's hand goes again to her neck and that unasked-for (and quite frankly unneeded!) demonic platysmaplasty, and she pulls her notebook back.

    -One more unicorn to go-

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Sometimes it's hard to tell the show people from the demons. Although I suspect some are a mix." Mike adds in to Zatana's comment before taking another sip of the beer.

He's kidding, right?

Well. Look at him.

As Thomas excuses himself, Mike turns his head, watching Thomas's exit out of the room. The general sound of the man's voice in the other room becomes more of a low murmur due to the wall but still present.

The sound of the notepad draws his attention back to the table. Leaning forward he looks to the simple sentence. "Hmm. Who was the ass who was rhyming back at us?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
    Zatanna waves Thomas out of the room. What was the world like before cell phones, she wonders.

    "What is this rumor I've heard about unicorns?" Zee keeps up the pretense of innocence, not out of any sense of subterfuge, but preferring to hear how people frame their experiences.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe pauses a moment as she looks to Mike and Zee, and then she gives a breath out. She tapes her left hand against her bag, and she then opens her bag.

    She pulls out first a large amount of sharpies in a rubber-band bound mass, along with a pack of Pall Mall lights. She then pulls out two corked vials with white hairs in them.

    And then she brings her hand up to her temple a moment, and grimmaces in pain. Her voice sounds strained as she sends out.

    <The Ringmaster. He was able to place a mark on me and Tabitha. I'm going to try and dismiss hers tomorrow. Came here to do research. Didn't want to lead him to your place, Zee. Basically at a carnival, this evil creature that looks like a cross between Cobblepot on a Hell Bender and the mayor from Nightmare Before Christmas popped out of the top, unleashed a bunch of chimeric creatures and bound Nightmares and tried to drag people into a dark portal inside the merry-go-round. A girl named tabitha managed to release them as I held down suppressive circles around it.> she explains, and tilts her head back.

    <Last night he mentioned a dying world. From what I was able to gather, he powered his contraption with the unicorns the same way J-- the same way some people can 'pull' extra power from other casters. That's why they were chained.>

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike grimaces at the description. He never saw a Cobblepot or the Ringmaster. But considering who the Puffin on Theme of the Crime is modeled after, he's got a heck of a mental reference to go off of already. The mention of nightmares gets an added look of interest. "The Nightmares, where are those now?"

Does Dream get angry?

Because if so, Mike thinks he might get pissed about this.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The magician grimaces when Phoebe winces. So, here is the story of what happened. There is no middle ground for the young woman. Zatanna both admires and abhors it in her. Her father was like that and died. And the man, Phoebe skirts around naming died. He came back after a pact with a demon and was not above using others as a mystical battery; something Zee knows from personal experience.

    Schooling her expression nearly into neutral, she asks softly, "And yours? A body can only take so many malign spells laid on them, Phoebe."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Went back to their source, when the carnival imploded on itself. Nightmares, sea horses with dragon heads that flop like seals, rabbits with hawk talons and wings.> Phoebe recounts. She hears the screams rattling about in her skull.

    And when Zatanna asks about her, she just shrugs.

    <I'll deal.> she keeps a carefully neutral expression. The Bats tought her that well.

    <The attacks will continue with or without the last unicorn. I have enough information that I can try to force a confrontation on Friday. I just need the last few components to make a circle to burn for the Firebinder.> she thinks. Her hands shake slightly. <Once the Unicorns are done, I can take off Tabby's marking. I can try to use it to descern a Name for the Ringmaster, and bind him from entering the world. But I'm so tired, and I'm not sleeping more than two hours at a time.>

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As Phoebe confirms that the nightmares went back to where they belong, he gives a nod. "Ok good."

Ok there's been a lot of bad stuff relayed there Mike.

"On the nightmares being sent back that is." He sips the drink, considering the information relayed before lowering the glass, "...What's keeping the sleep down to less than two hours?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe, at that, looks much older than her eighteen years. Her dark eyes go to Michael, and she brings her fingers up. Folding them in front of her lips.

    <When Chas Chandler was captured by Michael the Archangel, I went to war against the Host of Heaven for the sake of his and Jon Sim's daughters. We had a falling out after the dust settled. And I did something extremely stupid because I had a question only one being within my power to contact could answer.> she explains, and she curls her fingers a moment, and goes to sip at her drink.

    <... I was in Pittsburgh. The site of the Arsenal explosion, delved deep into a mosuleum. I thought I had the perfect set up. I thought I was hot shit,> she frowns, <... I don't know what went wrong. I called him by name. But instead, a demon that drove my cousin to murder our entire family and village answered.>

    Her eyes go distant.

    <She ripped my larynx out so I couldn't complete the binding.>

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike frowns. "So... natural nightmares." He surmises, "...Are you able to use your healing magic on yourself? For...uh-" He gestures to the throat.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe shakes her head, and she reaches up, and pulls off her choker collar, showing the gauze pad beneath it.

    <It took a month for my thyroid to grow back enough to function again.> she explains. <And any time I try to magic it into working, it just... doesn't work. It doesn't work.> she decides to finish, and she cuts off the mental communication, taking everything and beginning to slip it back into her bag.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Hmm." Mike glances to the room Thomas went into for a few moments, considering, "Have you tried getting help from others?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    At that question, Phoebe looks up to Mike. She then imitates a particular meme where a PG-13 rated rapper and movie star is displaying his chosen partner's beauty on the red carpet, at Zatanna.

    And then she gives a small smile, and writes on her notebook:

    -I'll be fine. One thing at a time.-