12662/Part 3: New Roots for an Old Tree

Part 3: New Roots for an Old Tree
Date of Scene:	16 September 2022
Location:	Westsider Rare & Used Books Inc.
Synopsis:	Hope and Tim and Art scout out a book store related to some wild stuff happening. Tim and Hope return later to find a few clues in the basement.
Cast of Characters:	Hope Summers, Tim Drake, Artemis Crock

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Hope Summers has posed:
    The night is starting to come on, the chill in the air is starting to have a bit more of a bite ot it, but it's so far not unpleasant. It's the beginnings of fall, and summer does still have a few hints of heat to give to the world before it fades into the snows and colds of winter.

    Downtown, on Broadway a pair of Outsiders find themselves standing in front of a tiny store front with a green awning that simply reads 'BOOKS' and then the name of the place on the small front portion of the awning with a phone number.

    The card Hope snagged from Phoebe is held up to compare the name of the store and a small nod is given to Tim. "This is the place." She says, handing the business card over to Tim, knowing he'd like to verify himself.

    The store is closing soon, visible by the way the man inside is shuffling a broom handle to sweep the dust towards a small pile nearing the front door as the final spot for the dust of the day to end up though he does look up to spy the two and cants his head with a smile and a lift of a frail hand to wave. "You two look sweet." He says, inviting them in.

Tim Drake has posed:
    It's a bookstore. That's really all you need to get Tim to come, though the promise of mystery and magic is, you know, cool too. Not really his area of expertise, as despite multiple attempts he's never been able to conjure even a flame strong enough to light a candle.

    "I'd say it's not spooky enough but this is just the facade," he says quietly as he turns the card over, looking at the back of it carefully for a moment as well before he hands it to Hope. Then they're in close enough range for the man to greet them and Tim's eyebrows go up. He shoots a Look at Hope, but says nothing, only tilting his head slightly to indicate that he's giving way for Hope to go in first.

    As he follows, he plasters on the official Wayne PR smile. "We're just browsing," he tells the man. "Promise not to take up too much of your time." Which might be a lie depending on what they find, but hey, he at least sounds like he's telling the truth *now*.

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Oh, that's fine, come come. We're closing soon, but I'll keep the door open for you." The old man says in his kindly voice. He seems the type to give anyone the time of day regardless of the time of day. "Is there anything in partiuclar you're looking for?" The man says as he scooches back into an alley way of bookshelves to allow Hope and Tim passage by.

    Tim was covered beforehand about the woman that caused issue with a friend at a larp session about a month ago. Something Phoebe had been working on to help the 'friend' that had been turned to stone. But recently the book and the girl were taken by some dark magics with the only clue being the card Hope had slipped back into her pocket. So they were here to do some detective work, maybe learn about how Erin (The taken girl) got her hands on the book or maybe where the book came from.

    Hope takes a deep breath as they enter and she starts to wander, getting lost in the literary maze, but quickly finds her way back to the owner. "I have a friend who bought a book from here maybe a month ago, brown hair, kinda mousy, and the book she bought wasn't labeled or named or anything. Kinda spooky and gothic looking. Would you know anything about that book or her?" Hope asks, not at all sounding convincing that it was a real friend. Almost 'bad cop' if anything.

    "Goodness, let me think." The owner notes as he pauses to rest his chin on the broom handle, "We sell so many books like that it's hard to recall specifics, you know?" When he turns and puts a boney hand on a book and pulls it out to offer towards Tim, "Have you tried this one? It's very good." The cover says, 'Princess Bride'.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Like Hope, Tim immediately wanders off to get a lay of the land, so to speak. Even bookstores can be dangerous. Though Tim's not exactly feeling threatened by the bookstore owner after a subtle once-over. Probably not out to get them.

    Keyword: probably.

    He's on the lookout for any similarly strange books that look like it might be a witch's long-lost grimoire, though he makes his way back in time to back Hope up in her questioning. He smiles at the book recommendation and reaches out to take it, immediately flipping through the pages. "I haven't read this since I was a kid," he says, then closes it and tucks it under one arm, likely with the intent to buy it. It's just a book, and it's not like he doesn't have the money. Maybe it'll help soften their target, too.

    "We're worried about her," he says, voice dropping into a worried tone. Pretty convincing attempt at good cop to Hope's bad cop. "We're not sure but we think she might have gotten in with an alternative crowd based on that book. If we can find some of her new friends, we're hoping it might help us find her too."

Artemis Crock has posed:
Ah how nice, a cozy little bookstore. These days it's hard to find smaller, private stores like this. Artemis steps in at the last hour, this time in her civvies and she peers around thoughtfully, apparently searching for..Something. Or who knows, maybe she's just browsing.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope looks over her shoulder at Tim with an eyebrow up, impressed with is improv skills, as she's a bit more robotic with her approaches. Never was a people person this red head. Looking back to the owner and he has a finger up, "Since you're both interested in questions, mind if I help her real quick then we can get back to this friend of yours." He says kindly and turns away from the two.

    The owner turns towards Artemis and smiles, holding a broom in both hands with the worn bristles brushing against the top of his shoes, "Good evening, is there anything I can do to help you? Or are you just browsing tonight?" He asks, a kindly smile on his face.

    Hope turns back to Tim and whispers, "Maybe I should let you talk, I'll look around for 'creepy' books and hidden rooms, yeah?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Hope's whisper gets a quick nod and thumbs up in reply, Tim turning himself so the gestures are hidden by his body. He's quick to face the shop owner again, and offers up a perfectly pleasant "Of course," in response. There doesn't seem to be a whole lot of empty space in this particular bookstore (which is, admittedly, Tim's favorite kind of bookstore to explore when he's actually just being a civilian) but he does his best to shuffle out of the way so that Artemis can be helped. Who, of course, gets her own up-down sort of look out of Tim's peripheral vision.

    Though even if he's agreed to play the Face on this, that doesn't mean Tim hasn't stopped investigating. Given the owner is busy, he shoves his hands into his pockets and does a small wander, attention focused on the front. Maybe there's something hidden near the register.

Artemis Crock has posed:
Artemis Crock peers at the store clerk, "Oh hey, actually I was looking for some stuff on criminal psychology..True crime, texts books! anything you might have. College class." she notes the other two customers in the store, giving them each a once over before turning back to the store clerk. "Ah, sorry, what time do you close? I'll try to make this quick."

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Ah, we close in about..." The owner begins and twists his hands to look at his watch, "About fifteen minutes but I don't mind. Take you're time." He says before moving towards Artemis and shuffling past her in the tightly packed store. "Now for true crime and criminal psychology, we have... Lets see here." As he lifts up a pair of readers that are on a string around his neck up to his eyes and he scans a few backs, "Here." And he motions towards a small collection of what look like ten or so year old text books.

    Hope has veered off and is scanning the store more or less while not really looking at the books themselves, and is running her hand up the side of a book shelf feeling for something, looking at the floor and ceiling for marks. Scanning for something out of place or scratched.

    Tim however at the back near teh register finds a rug beneath the stool that's for whoever is ringing up customers to sit on. A very plush sort of rug with very little dust on it while the rest of the place seems to have a fine layer around most things that aren't bound and written in.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Well, if it isn't a strategically placed rug. How very suspicious. While the shop owner is busy with Artemis, he does a quick back and forth sweep with his eyes before he ducks down into a crouch and reaches to lift the rug. Not far up though, just enough to sneak a peak. And then he's gone, the rug back in place and Tim halfway down the next row of shelves.

    Admittedly the world isn't quite like Metal Gear Solid where you just have to break line of sight to be entirely forgotten about, but all that really matters is that he finds Hope.

    Which, you know. Small store. Famous vigilante investigator. Tim manages, and he pretends to be very interested in a book about interior decorating as he says, casually, "Hatch in the floor behind the register." He thumbs past a shockingly large section about the placement of mirrors in your home and how they can make a room feel bigger. "Rug covering it. Seems pretty textbook suspicious if you ask me."

Artemis Crock has posed:
Artemis Crock smiles and nods to the store clerk. "Ah cool.." she flips through a few books, frowning a bit. "Hmm, Soo, got anything a bit smaller though, you know pocket sized? paperback? I mean, sure there's college assignments but I love a good read written in a novel format.." she's constantly scanning the area, probably a bad habit from her days in the League..Hmm, what's going on with those two? Are they actually here for books or up to suspicious behaviour? "Hmm, I'll look around some more. Those two look like they could use your help though..?"

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope isn't even hiding that she's casing the place, she was bent down and hunched over a part of the floor with her fingers touching, trying to see if she can feel any micro scrapes like the kind a bookcase might make were it a secret door when she stands up to face Tim as he approaches. Nodding along, she locks her eyes with Tim and then asks the fateful quesiton, "What's the play?" As much as she tries to take the role of Field Leader, she knows she's been off her game lately and is trying her damndest to get back into working order, but Tim. Tim IS her leader and she'll give that respect as he's earned it.

    The owner smiles to Artemis kindly and shrugs his shoulders. "That sounds like you almost want a fiction thriller, but I'm sure we can find something that's based on real cases. Easily." He says, and motions for Artemis to follow him as he walks back towards the register and then to the stool on top of the hatch hiding rug. "Let me look on line. We have access to other stores in the area and vice versa, we're all about helping hopeful readers." He says kindly and then leans out past the computer and register towards Tim and Hope's direction and asks, "You two doing okay? I'll be right with you."

Tim Drake has posed:
    This first interior design book doesn't interest Tim, and frankly neither does the one on feng shui, but he plays at being slightly more interested in this one. "I can ask him about the occult books, see if he'll show me the selection," he says Hope, under his breath. And then he rises up on his toes to peer over a shelf and find out where--ah.

    "He's busy with another customer though." Even though what he's saying is more or less perfectly normal in the context of two people who are definitely just here to shop for books, his eyebrows go up as he looks over at Hope, and his head tilts a little to the side to add to the subtext, what he's *actually* trying to say. "Maybe it'd be better if we came back later."

    He returns the book to its place on the shelf and then makes his way back to the front, lining up a casual few feet behind Artemis. Ostensibly to buy The Princess Bride, which he already has a copy of at home. Oh well.

Artemis Crock has posed:
Artemis Crock keeps an eye on the two folks at the back, a soft frown marring her lips. They sure seem to be looking for something other than, Yknow, a book! But she decides to mind her own business and bit butt in, giving them one more lingering look before nodding and following after the store clerk.

"Mm, well it doesn't need to be a fiction thriller..Afterall, truth IS stranger than fiction, is it not?' she smirks a bit, waiting patiently for him him to find something of the sort.

"Ah, sorry you two! I'll only be a second, sorry to interrupt.." she glances at her watch again..Hmm, not much time left, is there?

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Later makes sense." Hope whispers and then looks down at the book Tim is holding and then steals a glance back up in his direction. Not really pegging him as the kind of guy who was worried about the 'life energy' of a room or area. She shrugs, and leaves it as an unspoken thought. "Say, come back in a couple hours? Give the old man time to get home and be safe or, should one of us follow him, just in case he might be part of whatever's going on below?" Hope asks, leaning back out into the asile before she moves with Tim to stand in line behind Artemis, acting like a dutiful girlfriend who's indulging in her boyfriends love of books, as she's obviously not interested in any of the pages held within this place.

    The old man chortles at Artemis' comment about truth. "You are too right young lady." He says with a kindly smile as he raises his reading glasses once again and smirks as he spots on the screen. "Oh, goodness, we have a whole section of famous and not famous court cases and crimes and things like that just on the other side of where we were standing. Here. Let me show you." He says as he starts to get back up, "It's on the aisle on the other side of where we were, you can't see it from here, but it's just around the corner." The man again tries to lead Artemis if she'll allow it, "I'll be right with you two." He says to Hope and Tim as he walks past and around the corner to the other side of the store.

    Before he leaves Hope smiles to Artemis and notes, "No worries, we're just killing time before our dinner reservation is ready."

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Hm," is all Tim says at first, brow furrowed as he thinks over their options. Eventually he says, "I'll probably just have a drone track him. Spooky basements require a minimum 2-person team." The spooky basement part of that statement is Tim assuming things, but erring on the side of possibly haunted is generally what he does whenever mystical mayhem is maybe afoot.

    His fingers drum lightly against the cover of his book as they line up behind Artemis. There's a faint narrow-eyed squint to his expression, curious or suspicious (or both), but he's all smiles as the shop owner excuses himself.

    "Yeah, we have time still," he adds, echoing Hope's sentiment. Then Tim leans against the counter, definitely snooping behind the desk again but with his eyes only. They'll find whatever there is to find later tonight.

Artemis Crock has posed:
Artemis Crock follows the store clerk to another section of true crime, hopefully not text books this time. She grins, running her fingers over the slimes of the books. "Awesome! Thanks for this..Gimme a sec.." She tries to be quick in picking out a book, curious to see what the 'happy couple' are really up to, and once she picks out a book, she brings it to the desk to pay for. "Hey can I use the washroom before I head out? looks like I got a couple minutes and I'll be quick."

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Makes sense, but I thought spooky was your whole... thing." Hope says with a teasing smirk crossing her face before she looks back over her shoulder as Artemis passes and the red head brushes a hand through her hair to keep it looking mussy and 'bed head'-ish.

    The shop keeper returns with Artemis at the desk at the back in short order and quickly rings her up and takes payment before being asked about the washroom "Oh, certainly, it's around the nearest corner all the way in the back. You can't miss it." The owner is overly kind.

    "Ah, now for you two, I hope you found something nice. Oh, this!" He says in regards to the book he recommended and then suddenly Hope is pushing a book she randomly grabbed from near by. A thick seasonal pirate themed cook book, which certainly seems out of place. "Oh, I just, looove cooking." She says, sounding like she doesn't know a thing about it.

    The owner simply Hmms in response but rings up Tim, figuring the nice boyfriend would be the one paying for the books. He is a little old school this owner.

Tim Drake has posed:
    That earns a sort of huffed breath out of Tim, which is probably him laughing but also trying not to laugh at the same time. "Not sure I ever really manage to pull off spooky, but... thanks?" He shakes his head. When Hope turns around to look at Artemis, Tim pointedly doesn't, but only because he's side-eyeing their reflections in the shop's front windows. He does however cluck his tongue quietly, raising an eyebrow at Hope after, in the moments between the shop owner leaving and returning.

    "Sure," is all he says about the pirate cookbook. Honestly, could've been worse. Probably someone on the team will enjoy trying out the recipes, and that means Tim and Hope will get to eat the results. It's a win-win in his book.

    And then he pays, yes. In cash, rather than whipping out the fancy (and memorable) Wayne black card or any other payment source that might leave a trace to their identities behind. Then it's time for their dinner reservations.

    Which are just, like... them getting some kebab wraps or whatever decent street food is nearby, because Tim definitely wants to eat while also being concealed somewhere nearby. Definitely not the fancy meal that they might have given the impression they were going for.

Artemis Crock has posed:
Artemis Crock smiles and nods to the clerk, "Thanks! Be right back." she glances sidelong at the cute couple, ears peeled to their private conversation..Is this all an act? She's sure she heard or saw them doing odd things earlier. But for now she hears towards the back, subtly peering this way and that, at a bookshelf here or there, a table, a rug where she was sure one of them had peeked under earlier.

Where was the washroom again? oh that's right, at the back..Downstairs in the basement, was it? Well that's where she is headed!

Hope Summers has posed:
    The kebabs are great, the soda was flat, but that is always a risk you run with fountain drinks, but the steak out is simple enough. Quiet. Easy. Only thing Hope had to do was to make sure her hair was covered. That's certainly a distinct feature she knows to obscure when needed.

    The basement isn't where the washroom is, it's close, but no, it's not right there. Artemis has to walk past the bathroom to go down the stairs into the basement, and yet it doesn't feel like she's not allowed in there. In fact it seems like an extension of the store just above, though not quite as big. Despite the smallness of the store above this is just a single asile. The books are much more carefully attended to down here, the lights are low and some of the cases have glass and locks on the front, keeping the truly valuable books secure.

    Back up stairs the old man continues to close down his shop, getting cleaned, closing the register down and making sure the money is locked away in the safe below the desk top. Simple plain normal stuff. Though after a few minutes the sound of knocking can be heard as he checks the bathroom. "You okay in there?" He asks, assuming Artemis is still inside.

Tim Drake has posed:
    It really is one of the easiest stakeouts Tim's ever been on. Not that he hasn't, uh, snuck dinner a time or two on patrol. Sometimes you just gotta eat, evven in the cape. But right now he's just in civilian clothes, having done little more than grab a different t-shirt and a jacket with a hood from the trunk of his car a few blocks away. That and a change of shoes into something steel-toed, just in case.

    Not that ghosts can really be kicked in the face, but if it's some other kind of magic monster, they might be corporeal enough for it. If not, some of the other assorted Bat-gadgets he conceals on his person will hopefully do.

    "Has the girl come out?" he asks, frowning as he wipes his hands clean on a napkin from the kebab stand. "Drone's on standby mode but ready to follow the shop owner once he leaves."

    After a moment of hesitation Tim starts approaching the bookstore again, though doing his best to remain out of sight. "If she's his next victim, we can't stay out here and wait."

Artemis Crock has posed:
"Ah fine!" she calls upstairs. Okaaay, so the washroom isn't quite downstairs but it's close enough that she can slip downstairs, and peering this way and that..She's not entirely sure what she's looking for, but those two were looking for *something* weren't they?

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope has a toothpick in her hand and she pulls it from her mouth as Tim returns with a fresh t-shirt and jacket, and the red head openly scans him up and down as he approaches, "The girl and the shop owner both haven't let just yet." Hope reports with a glance to the door and back down the sidewalk to the north.

    "That's quite alright dear, but it is getting late and you know we're open seven days a week, you're more than welcome to come back tomorrow or any time and look around more." He says, as he tries to usher the girl out so they can both get home.

    Not long the man is standing at the doorway and pushing his key into the lock after turning off the lights. "Have a good night ma'am." He says with a wave towards Artemis as he starts to walk away.

Tim Drake has posed:
    And then the drone, which has been idling up high enough that it's little more than a speck in the sky to anyone with good vision, begins to follow the man. Tim gets a silent notification to his smart watch telling him that the drone is in pursuit, and he flashes a thumbs-up at Hope.

    At least it seems likely Artemis is not the man's next victim. Or only victim. Maybe he doesn't have any victims, which would be a nice change of pace in comparison to how it usually is in their line of work. He pulls his hood up and makes a quick hand-gesture, signalling Hope to go first, take up a Point position.

    Tim will follow after, with the lockpicks.

Artemis Crock has posed:
Artemis Crock smiles and nods to the guy, "Good night!" and she steps out with book in hand. But, there was still something odd going on. As she steps behind the alleyway nearby, she quickly slips into costume, climbing the nearby furs escape to the next door building where she has a good vantage point to the building and stakes out. Will the couple come back? Will something else occur? Who knows but she will at least hang around for a bit before heading home.

Hope Summers has posed:
    The Shopkeep wanders unawares deep into the darkness of the night, appearing like a metronome in the street lights shining down from above. After he's long enough away a soft rap at Tim's shoulder indicates Hope is ready to go in. No words follow. She's smarter than that, and the hand signs should be enough. For now.

    Stepping up towards the door but pausing to face away towards the street, Hope keeps a quick eye for anyone that might see them, doing a small breaking and entering. Little crime. Nothing bad. Just. Small.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Is Tim a 'sunglasses at night' sort of person? Yes, when he's trying to conceal his identity. Also these are fitted with WayneTech glasses, which afford a limited amount of nightvision and scanning. Nothing like what his cowl lenses can do, but good enough for spooky basements. Which he's still assuming they're about to walk down into.

    Though it could be anything, down there. While Hope keeps watch, Tim crouches down and pulls his picks from inside his jacket. Now he's no Selina Kyle, but this isn't a lock that would realistically trouble anyone in the Bat-clan. As soon as the click sounds of it unlocking, he rises smoothly into a stand and nods once at Hope before slipping inside.

    His immediate focus is the space behind the register, which he vaults over, landing down in a kneel so that he can sweep the rug away from the floor where it's hiding the previously discovered hatch to the aforementioned spooky basement.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Slipping inside, and carefully shutting the door behind them, Hope turns to lock the door once more. Just in case. Safety first after all.

    Following Tim and now no longer afraid to speak, she asks, "Five bucks it's nothing haunted but is creepy, like, in a bad way..." Hope steps up to the register area Tim is already at and is waiting for him to open up the floor compartment.

    Below is a simple creaky wooden staircase with a single dangling light fixture and an old school yellow bulb barely lighting the area beneath. A dense fog of dust, and a moth or two scurrying about through the air to bonk against the glass is the only noise after the chainpull stops echoing.     

Tim Drake has posed:
    Opening the hatch is, admittedly, kind of anticlimactic. All signs do indeed point to spooky basement, which is... you know, fine. But you never know in Gotham. It could open straight to the sewers, or a labyrinthian chasm of shifting walls and floors. Given that it's not either of those two things, though, Tim decides to descend the staircase first. Otherwise he likely would have let Hope take point. That's just good positioning. The bruiser is in the front row, while your rogue stays in the back.

    "I'll take that bet but I'm hoping you win," he answers as he tests his foot against the first step. Creaky but not so loud that Tim expects it's going to alert anyone outside the building, so he starts taking them one by one. Cautiously, but not with any significant attempts at stealth.

    And then he's staring up at the single bulb illuminating the room. "Uh huh, spooky." The lenses in his sunglasses dial back on the light-levels enhancement until he begins to look around again. "If there's real magic at play here, don't touch anything if you can help it. There's no telling what could be down here."

Hope Summers has posed:
    "I don't want either of us to win. I'm kind of hoping it's just a washer and dryer and nothing else." Hope responds behind Tim, watching him descend first, feeling a bit odd about it. She's the more capable fighter of the two, she should be up front, while he's got the dexterous hands, much more delicate and special. He should be protected.

    Another tap on Tim's shoulder and Hope is sliding across the outside of his shirt, a collapsable baton, for him to grab and use as a weapon. Knowing he prefers staves, but the short stick will have to do. For now. In her hand she pulls out something much more abrupt, but keeps it lowered and behind Tim.

    "What's that?" She asks, motioning past Tim towards an odd sort of collection of books. It's a display of four books in a broken star. One missing obviously, but the four remaining are holy books, or former holy books. A Torah, a Qur'an, a Bible, the blank space, and a scroll that is badly damaged, left carefully protected with a leather sleeve holding it.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "A washer and dryer, in this economy?" Tim asks, despite having enough money that most people would assume he's never done his own laundry once in his life. But jokes on them! He does! Except for the expensive stuff, which he gets dry cleaned.

    He reaches up to grab the baton with a quick nod. Not his weapon of choice, no, but still within his wheelhouse thanks to training with Nightwing. He ends up using it for not quite its intended purpose, though, carefully tapping the edges of the display with the book collection for any potential traps after a thorough visual inspection. "The Four Vedas?" he wonders aloud of the empty slot. "Or maybe the Pali Canon?" Eventually he inches in closer to the damaged scroll, head tilting this way and that as he squints at it, trying to catch a glimpse of the text within it. He's still sticking to the whole 'don't touch anything' thing.

    Standing up again, he puts his free hand on his hip, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "I wonder if the book our victim purchased had anything to do with this display?"

Hope Summers has posed:
    "I don't know? I've never used any until I got to he hide out." Hope says with a shrug, but turning sideways as they inch towards the odd display of the books. The scroll at the top, and the others in the star pattern from there, the gap is on the bottom left. "I dunno? Looks like a bunch of nonsense to me." Hope remarks, gun still in hand and lowered to the floor, finger off the trigger, and her eyes constantly scanning around the room.

    The scroll, what's visible to Tim is written in some ancient language. Forgotten by human hands, and unreadable by modern human eyes. Older than Egyptian. Older still than most known languages. Sumerian if he can read it. Or knows a program that could decipher the language?

Tim Drake has posed:
    The limited infrared isn't the only thing Tim's glasses can do; it's also capturing a live recording of what he's seeing, for later perusal. Currently transmitting back to the Roost, though it's the equivalent of a viewerless Twitch stream at the moment; it's really only Tim himself that spends any time up in the computer lab observing missions out on the field from afar.

    So there will eventually be a translation available. But it's one-way communication for now, so all Tim says is "Sumerian by the looks of it," which implies (correctly) that he can't read any of it.

    "I don't know if this is just some sort of religious altar of some sort or something more nefarious, but what else do we have to go on?"

Hope Summers has posed:
    "We only have the book and the victims back at Phoebe's place... or ... wherever they are now..." Hope says with a frown, glancing back over her shoulder to Tim. "Based on what happened to them touching the display is not high on my bucket list." The red head notes.

    The star seems ornate, but not intricate enough to be a spell or alechemic diagram or chart or any thing of the sort, but that's not something Hope would know either way. "You got pictures of the thing, right? If we're not taking anything, I'd rather be getting out of here sooner than later. Place is making my back crawl with sribblies."

Tim Drake has posed:
    A tap against the frames of his glasses is a quick, silent confirmation about the recording. "I'd rather not leave any trace of our presence here, especially if there's nothing to find. No reason to give this man anxiety about break-ins if he's actually innocent in all this."

    Still, even as Tim steps away from the display, he starts doing a perimeter walk. One final check before htey leave.

    "I've heard it's possible for an active X-gene to trigger magical abilities," Tim says, glancing back over his shoulder towards Hope before he ducks down to check the dust distribution on the floor for any suspicious tracks. "Have you encountered that at all? Given how academic knowledge of mysticism is usually pretty necessary for casting spells, it makes me wonder... but there must always be an aspect of learning how to use a new skill, right?"

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope's gun remains down by her pelvis, both hands on the firearm as she slowly turns to look at Tim, and raises an eyebrow, "You studying up on me and mine? Or is this a mild interest in mutants?" Hope asks before she looks away from Tim and with a tch sound from her throat, "I've never heard that before..." Hope says her curiosity on the subject a thing that exists now. Thanks Tim.

    "Depends on the skill, but I couldn't imagine any skill that doesn't require some thought and thus some aspect of learning inherent to it. No? I didn't just know how to shoot, you didn't just KNOW how to detect or fight. We both didn't just KNOW how to lead." She says with a shrug of her shoudlers.

    The perimeter doesn't reveal much in the way of hidden doors or trick mirrors or deeper sub-basements. It seems this is as far down as this rabbit hole goes. A clue undecipherable in the moment. A hint the eyes of the ignorant can't fathom. "What's your gut telling you?" Hope asks of Tim.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Trying to figure out how to arm my team to face magic threats," Tim answers. "Most of us will have to augment with enchanted weaponry of some kind. If there's a possibility to maintain additional magical skill, I won't count it out. But I'm enough of a nerd that you can bank on mild interest counting for most things." By the end of that sentence he's satisfied himself with the extent of his search, and he begins to approach the creaky staircase once more. At the base of the steps, though, he pauses to look back at the book display.

    Hope doesn't get an immediate answer. Tim's weight shifts from one foot to the other, and he lets out a steady exhale. "What'd you call them? Scribblies?" He nods. Then up the stairs he begins to ascend, similarly even-footed to when he descended them.

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Augment with enchanted weaponry..." Hope repeats within her own voice, quiet and lingering in the spooky and dusty room. It takes Tim addressing her so directly to wake her up from her stupor. "Scribblies, yeah, the bumps that get all over your skin, from the back or shoulder blades or neck first. Scribblies. ... You call them something else here, don't you?" Never forget, Hope is a weird one who comes here not only from a different time, but a different universe's time.

    Easy enough to follow. "I might have an idea on the magic thing... I think it's time I make a call back home." She frowns and stows the pistol back into the holster under her jacket.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim doesn't leave Hope behind because he would never do that to a friend and teammate, but he has made it all the way up the stairs nearly. In fact he has one foot planted on the top step, and from there he's turned back to look down. "Brass knuckles, maybe. For those of us with combat suits, I could have them integrated right into the gauntlets. Gabby has her blades enchanted, so she's good to go already. I have a sword of dubious antiquity that seems to have some sort of effect on magical creatures, but I'll probably pass that on to Rose."

    To which he grimaces faintly, but that's old drama. "Not really my style, anyway."

    Once Hope's head is back in the game so-to-speak, Tim takes the last step necessary to return to the bookstore proper. "Goosebumps, goosepimples, gooseflesh," are the three synonyms for the physical reaction Hope's describing that Tim supplies. To her next statement, he only tilts his head, but those sorts of statements often go without explanation. For now, he doesn't press.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope is quickly up the stairs once she realizes she dozed for a moment and her attention laxed briefly. "Sorry about that." She says as she's up. The light turned off, the hatch replaced and the rug back on top. "I didn't know you had anything magical, I might ask for some spares if my visit back to Xavier's doesn't pan out well." Hope notes, frowning softly, "Maybe reach out to some others, just to be safe too. Can't hurt to be too prepaired, no?" The backup team lead notes as she follows Tim to the front doors again. "Back to the roost for you to decode the alien language?" Hope asks as she's waiting for him to lock up.

Tim Drake has posed:
    One final look to make sure that they've left everything as it was when they first entered, and then Tim is pulling the front door of the shop closed behind them with finality. He does also give the knob a little jiggle to make sure it's locked, before he steps away, hands tucked into his pockets.

    After he's slipped the baton back to Hope with a quick motion. And then they're two totally normal young adults having a late stroll. No breaking and entering to be seen here, no, not at all.

    "I'm still working on sourcing things," he admits, but he nods. "Let me know what you find. I'll have updates soon on that scroll. Fingers crossed this wasn't a dead end."