1989/Walk Among Tombstones

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Walk Among Tombstones
Date of Scene: 15 June 2020
Location: Woodlawn Cemetery
Synopsis: The Ladies Book Club goes on an adventure and finds...talking marble angels and weird messages. Just a regular Monday!
Cast of Characters: Morrigan MacIntyre, Illyana Rasputina, Nessa Donovan, Sera, Megan Gwynn




Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
There had been strange things afoot in New York City lately. Which honestly isn't out of the ordinary, but when so many things are going on it leaves some things overlooked. Like this particular anamoly.

Woodlawn Cemetery is a beautiful place and the sun had set a few hours ago, leaving it looking like some backdrop on the set of a gothic film or new release horror movie. Either way, the place has closed, but something was fully active in this area and that had alerted more than a few of the local Mystic Arts folks. Following the resonance had lead them here to the gates of the cemetery.

And who doesn't like a little B&E on a Monday night?!

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
New York is a rainbow of troubles and problems, that's just a statement of fact. Look somewhere and eventually issues shake themselves awake. Illyana Rasputina herself could be a walking emblem of those troubles, but let's just look past that as she traces the periphery of the grounds where the dead should sleep untroubled by the cares of mortal men and women. They earned their rest, after all. Trees popping a practically stunning shade of green holds her captive for a moment. Then her attention roves away again, touching the headstones and the lush lawns and wandering paths gouged like an accusation into the isle.

Her fringe of blonde hair and spaghetti strap top play more Debbie Harry attitude than competent mystic of any sort. But there she is all the same, nodding to anyone else who might have been drawn in.

Nessa Donovan has posed:
Last time Nessa Donovan had gone snooping around when she'd detected something magical she /didn't/ end up fighting anything and instead made a friend. While she doesn't expect every encounter to be so great, it's at least made her bold.

Bold enough that her gloves are removed and there's soon the beginning of a lovely ice staircase complete with railing going up to lead over the top of the fence for easy access. She does this a bit down from where she might see anyone mostly because there's no telling what angry groundskeeper might come shaking a shovel at her. She doesn't look particularly menacing in a pair of jeans and a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, but it does seem a touch more than weather might call for.

Sera has posed:
Sera has never been 'on her game' when it comes to doing magic. She has always dabbled and those dabblings have had big effects from time to time. Usually, she practices the spells that aid in combat. As a bounty hunter with Angela it was the defensive stuff that mattered the most. The more weird, esoteric stuff always tickled her fancy. But as time goes by you start to forget things - not that they can be done, but how you did it last time. Rusty, that's the word for it - Sera is very rusty with magic.

The bright glowing angelic wings made of magic keep her aloft as she flies over the grave yard. Instead of casting a silhouetting shadow, she casts a silver shape from over head. It was suggested she go see the county fairs and the zoos but hey, cemeteries are fun too right? It does give her the chills.. as the first part of her life was spent remembering the dead so that they would not be forgotten. So too, it seems, Earth has customs for the dead.

Her flight brought her here though because of that weird feeling she kept getting. There's a few of them in New York City and it was time she felt she should go see what they were about. Her flight circles her around a few times before she lands close to where she feels it might be.. she can search by foot from there. The magic of her wings falls against her back and evaporates like tiny little points of light whisping in to the breeze.

Unlike her appearance at the Asgardian Embassy, she is not wearing her armor this time. Instead, blue jeans and a t-shirt that says 'It's a kind of magic' on it. "This place is spooky," she says to no one in particular.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Somewhere there was a security officer sleeping at his desk. And sadly that means the presence of young women are missed. Maybe it's a good thing actually!

There's a thrum of power in the air once the trio find their ways into the cemetery proper. The smell of freshly cut grass tickles at the senses and there's a peaceful air about the place.

Minus the spike of energy. Normal humans couldn't feel this, so it was up to them to see what it was exactly that was sending out a beacon.

It is also good to note that there are tons of angel headstones and monuments that harken back to days gone by. The place would be stunning in the daytime.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Glowing angelic wings or the silhouette of a staircase assaults highly attuned senses capable of distinguishing a veiled spell outside visual range in the collision-courses of New York life, so fair to say Illyana has zero trouble with examining the fence intended to keep the living out from the abode of the dead. Tasting the oddities on the warm air, she could be mistaken for lounging around where she shouldn't be in hopes of poetic inspiration or a selfie. Except no camera there, and moreover, something like a gate isn't going to actually slow her down.

The elegant staircase has a certain artistic quality a Russian actually can appreciate. "Peaceful," she replies, catching wind of Sera's suggestion. Still bars and stone stand between her and the other side, the energy emanating out that rolls over her in waves. Far be it for her to stand apart from it.

One moment she is there, another she steps in a blink to the other side. Silver fire collapses in a gasp of violet-tinged radiance in her wake, putting her several meters deep into the cemetery. "Careful of the drop," she tells Nessa.

Casual B&E, no problem.

Nessa Donovan has posed:
Instead of allowing a drop, Nessa's ice forms a slide on the other side and she slides down on it with the mildest bit of surprise that, of course, there are other people casually making their way in. It's only a mild surprise and only a brief moment as she brushes herself off, looking around at the others. She's certainly taking a moment to be a little distracted by the wings because /wings/. That's not a trick she can do.

"So, I assume this is the book ladies book club? No?"

Sera has posed:
Sera wanders from ornament to ornament. Her eyes going wide at each little cherub and angel on display. "What the f...," she says with confusion at the weird parallel between her reality and the mythology on Earth. "Victor Stone wasn't kidding about those religions then," she says to herself aloud. "This is going to be weird. People will be expecting things of me...," there is a hmm of displeasure. "So long as they can pay."

Her wanderings take her closer to that strong sense of mystical energy. This is the kind of journey, the kind of outing that she doesn't take Angela along. Firstly, she just doesn't 'get' the magic and secondly her primary response to anything marginally odd is to stab it with a sword. That can have adverse consequences.

She becomes aware of the other two women approaching roughly the same area as her and waves to them both cheerfully, "'sup. Lovely night for a stroll in a cemetery wouldn't you say," ..yeah, that works. Nice small talk Sera. The teleportation trick that Illyana raises her eyebrows and she smiles. The ice staircase was hard to miss from above. "I take it you're both also here because of that weird.. whatever? Ladies book club? I like that." She smiles with delight at this meeting of minds, "I'm Sera."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
There's so many glorious headstones and masauleom's here. Great notables that have been buried in this hallowed ground. But the large statue that they are being drawn to is an unmarked grave and oddly not on any of the maps that they would find if they looked.

In pristine alabaster marble there is the visage of an angel carved, it's wings spreading out on either side six feet. It's head bowed and it's hands halfway to it's face as if they were weeping.

There is a soft blue glow around the statue, but, that's not something normal eyes would see.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
One too many times likely jumped from behind, the Russian glances back once for good measure. She shrugs her bare shoulders to the question. "Da," she agrees comfortably, lacing her thumb around a belt-loop, an act almost defiantly casual where there could be better use for formalities and inflected proofs. The spill of pale golden hair and the high, youthful planes of her face lend an unnerving similarity to many of those angels grieving for their fallen charges. No resemblance to chubby putti, but Victorian incarnations of willowy women, yes. Uncannily so, for a few, but disquieting still.

"What book are we reading tonight?" A question for both and none, idly disposed to hang there in the air with a curl of mist and smoke. Then nature answers by lighting up an angel for her. With the same weird hue, almost, that she herself used in a stepping disc carrying her across a tiny perforation in space. "I love it when they have a sense of humour." She inhales the humid spring air and releases it back out, then heads towards the statue in its melancholic state.

"The spell is weakening. A breaking seal, perhaps, or something coming undone." Words given in warning, though nothing in her manner is immediately perturbed.

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn isn't sure why she's here or why she is being drawn to a spooky graveyard, but she's come to trust her instincts, and with her desire to learn more about magic, this is the perfect (albeit spookiest) place to start. Or continue. Or whatever.

And her stroll inevitably takes her to the feet of a beautiful but somehow sad looking angel. Oh, and it's glowing? "Huh. Wow. Why's it...Glowing?" she bites her lip, peering aroud.

Oh hey, looks like there are others here, some of whom are familiar to her too. She smirks at Illy and..No, doesn't really recognize anyone else here. "Oh. Illy, what's...Spell? A seal? Seal for what?" Megan frowns, trying to figure stuff out. "Sooo...What should we do..?"

Nessa Donovan has posed:
"I'm hoping it's less 'Sleepy Hollow' and more 'Casper the Friendly Ghost'," Nessa points out, her eyes scanning the area a little as she gets a sense of what's going on. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm not so great at this whole..." She gestures around her. "My studies have been largely insular, much to the complaints of my family."

She lets her gaze drift over towards Megan. "Oh, cool, someone who knows about as much as I do. Nice to meet you, I'm Nessa, welcome to the book club." She looks back to the glowing statue... then slow turns to Sera. "So, uh, you know anything about that?"

Sera has posed:
Sera throws her arms out wide as she says with exasperation, "Oh come on. Seriously what is the obsession in this place with my people. It's weird." She plants her hands on her hips as her attention is at first mostly on the marble visage of sadness. "I'd just like to clarify right here, right now, that as one of the two Angels on this planet, as far as I know, I had nothing to do with.. this." She waves a hand vaguely at the statue and then the soil surrounding it.

Internally though she fears the visage of the anchorites, remembering the fallen.. for that lived experience was her nightmare. Are all these angels meant to be fellow anchorites? an extended fantasy that humans would be remembered by the Angels too? A shudder runs down her spine and her eyes instead focus on the strange blue aura. "Something coming back to life? I can appreciate the perspective of wanting to live again," she comments as they inspect the grave. She gives a wave to Megan Gwynn, "Hi, welcome to the Ladies Book Club. I'm Sera. And these are... the other people here." She has no idea who they are but they seem cool to her. One teleports and the other makes ice staircases, you can't get much better than that.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
One moment that statue is looking down, the next it's head rises from its upheld hands and there is a soft grinding of stone that goes along with it. The angel looks to the four of them, then up to the sky before back to the group, "Savior's take such strange shapes, but that is no matter. You came because it is almost time and we have to make haste to find that very nasty place." she nods to this.

"Below me you will find the map to the next piece you need find and hopefully you will not run out of time." she states to them. "But each of you must answer a question:" she starts.

To Illyana - "I don't have eyes, but once I did see. Once I had thoughts, but now I'm white and empty. What is the object?" she is asked.

Then to Nessa: "The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it. What is it?" is her question.

The eyes find Sera next: "Look in my face, I am somebody. Look in my back, I am nobody. What am I?" she asks.

Then the gaze settles on Megan: "I have no feet, no hands, no wings, but I climb to the sky for all to see. What am I?" the statue asks.

Then it falls silent and waits for the answers.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Megan descending like a bubbly spark of faerie dust gets a brusque upnod from Illyana. The glowing light from the weeping angel holds a more immediate concern, calling her to consider the integrity of the stone and whether frosty marble becomes alabaster flesh or something vaporous and scaled. "Claim to innocence acknowledged." The deadpan delivery could make that a completely honest reply or the understatement of the year.

A flick of her wrist is almost an act of stretching the tendons with a wicked acuity when the angel lifts its head and hands in kind, and her position slipping into a more ready state of defense might not even earn notice. Not when a once-glowing statue is talking. But it's a helpful guard. "A skull," she answers the question immediately. The requirement of the riddle keeps her from giving more than a brief look Nessa or Sera's way, since she isn't about to get smashed into by a marble being.

"Illyana. Nineteenth century Russian epics are my specialty in this book club. Sera seems to prefer theology. The other lady is lovely with architecture. Better book club than the library, da?"

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn smiles at Sera and Nessa, trying to recall if she's seen them somewhere before or not..Perhaps that magic circle tea thinger at Zatanna's place? Well whatever the case, it's been a while. "Hii! Nice to meet you Nessa and Sera! I'm Megan. Wow, this is such an exciting adventure! I wonder what..."

Sera is given a curious glance as she talks of being an angel and she blinks a bit. "Oooh, you're an angel? For reals? That's sooo coool..." But she is interrupted as the angel statue suddenly moves. And then talks.

"Woah!" she steps back a few paces and laughs nervously. She should be used to this sorta weirdness but. Illy is given another smirk and slight roll of her eyes as she effortlessly answers her riddle without even trying. "Pffft, show off!"

Oh wait, now a riddle is tossed at Megan too, and she blinks! She's never been the best at riddles and she wracks her brains for a few moments on that one. "Umm...Ummm, well, there's a sun in the sky but..Umm, it doesn't really crawl, what else, uh...clouds? But they dont crawl up so um....ooh, Oooh! Could it be like...Smoke? Okay, I'm going with Smoke! Cuz it kinda crawls and stuff!"

And hopefully she wont get eaten or something if she guessed wrong. Cuz that would kinda suck.

Nessa Donovan has posed:
"I'm sorry, no one told me this was a /time trial/. Would have worn better shoes for that," Nessa states, looking down at her flats. But there are riddles. "Oh man, I love these." She notes Illyana's answer, then looks back to Megan, then looks at the statue. "I'm going with a coffin. Because this is a creepy graveyard and if it's anything else I'm /way/ overthinking it."

Her gaze shifts to Sera for a moment as she's clearly thinking hard about the angel thing. "You know much about demons? Just asking for a friend." She pauses. "For real. It's for a friend."

Sera has posed:
With a small nod of affirmation to Megan, Sera says, "Yep. I am an Angel from Heven." From the way she says it, it's clearly not pronounced the same way people say Heaven on this planet. Megan perhaps missed her flying in to the cemetery on glowing angelic wings. Those wings are now gone. Now she looks like any other human.

Sera's posture changes from one of concerned defiance to one of general concern. She turns to look at the other women and clears her throat, "Well that's a quandary. I wasn't expecting to be riddled tonight. Hm. Look at face, somebody, look at back.. nobody. A mirror? ..may be. Earth money? ..may be. A whole life? ..may be. Hmm. A clock? ..nah."

She folds her arms in annoyance and glares back at the statue. "This is weird right. I'm not the only one who thinks a talking statue pretending to be an Angel is weird, right? Well.. I'll go with Earth money. And as a backup answer, a Mirror." There is a shrug and she lifts an eyebrow, "Is that statue possessed? it seems we're being lead by our noses on some epic saviouring quest and no one has offered payment - this is not the Angelic way."

Glancing over to Nessa she smirks, "I've met plenty and vanquished them when they weren't wanted and I was being paid for it. I lived in Hel for a few hundred years - that probably counts too right? There's all kinds of life in the ten realms."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
The angel looks at each of them as they give their answer and there is a nod to that, "Very good my ladies. Very good." she states.

Then there is a shudder that races over the statue before it crumbles, the chunks turning to ash as they hit the ground. Soon there is nothing but a pile of ashes where the beautiful statue used to stand. It was almost heartbreaking.

But below there is a hole that was dug long ago and in that hole there is a small black case that sits upon a simple concrete block. Just waiting for someone to take it. There is no aura around this box. Nor any other magical residue.

What do they do?

Nessa Donovan has posed:
Nessa leans in just a bit closer as she looks at the case, then she looks at the others, then at the case. "If no one's going to touch that, I'll do it." She doesn't seem phased by the idea, but if someone else is overly keen, she'll let them try.

Sera does get a look though. "I might have to ask you about demons sometime. I'm not sure if you might know exactly how to help, but knowledge is always good."

Sera has posed:
Sera peers in to the hole and at that case too. "Not it!," she declares just as quickly as Nessa offers to be the one to pick it up. "Sure. I don't know if I'll be able to help but if you've got something to trade for the knowledge then I'm happy to share."

She doesn't want to touch it, but she really wants to know what's in it. "So.. open it. Let's see what this has all been about. I'm //dying// to know." A pun, she can't help herself.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Nothing happens when Nessa picks up the box, it's light, but there is something inside.

If it's opened, inside is a yellowed piece of paper that looks like the edges have been burned, but the smokey smell escaped ages ago. It's folded in half and placed right in the center of the case. When unfolded, there are red words inked into the page:

"On swift wings they come. Destroy the book before they can get to it."

Below that creepy message are a set of coordinates it seems.

Time to go on an adventure. Or they could not and just leave it be.

Sera has posed:
Sera hmms and pokes a finger at the yellowed parchment and smiles, "Well.... I'm available for hire if you are interested in pursuing this ..book." She offers her hand to Nessa, "Terms can be hashed out later. Similarly, for a discussion on demons. Ladies book club after all, right?"

Nessa Donovan has posed:
Nessa opens the box so they can see inside, then opens the paper. "Destroy the book before they can get to it?" She looks at the coordinates. "I guess we really are the Ladies Book Club now but, uh, looks like we've got ourselves a good old fashioned treasure hunt. Or something." She takes Sera's hand. "We'll figure something out. Book clubbers have to stick together."