3156/Drinks and Notes

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Drinks and Notes
Date of Scene: 29 August 2020
Location: Some posh pub, New York City
Synopsis: Nessa and John share drinks and notes about ice golems, necromancers, and Loki.
Cast of Characters: John Constantine, Nessa Donovan




John Constantine has posed:
If there's one thing John doesn't like, it's when someone makes businss personal.

There are plenty of evil hedge wizards, nutty necromancers, even trolls who lurk under overpasses and eat unsuspecting teens. Dealing with them is just business, just like their work isn't personal.

But when three ice golems trundle into a bar and attack John-- and upset his attempts at flirting with a lady-- it becomes personal.

There's only one other person John knows of who's into the issue of the ice magic plaguing the city, and so he sets up a meeting with Nessa Donovan. A bar's picked out, and a time.

When Nessa arrives, there's no sign of John until she's at her table. Then he appears nearby as if out of nowhere, stepping from a waitress' shadow as if literally emerging from it. Hands in pockets, overcoat askew, and a cigarette balanced on his lips.

"Posh place," John advises Nessa. Smoke dances in the air with the motion of his words, and he hooks a chair out with his foot and drops into it. "Little upscale innit? I don't like getting pissed anywhere that won't throw me out proper," he advises her. Another chair's hauled over and he *clunks* his oxfords into it for a footrest, lounging indolently at the table.

"Something to drink, sir?" a waitress inquires of him with a Perfectly Polite smile. John gives her a once over. "Pint of lager, thanks luv," he tells her.

"Sir, there's no smoking in here," the waitress reminds him.

"Mmhm," John says, and removes the cigarette from his mouth just long enough for the woman to walk off-- then he turns back to Nessa. "Game to share notes then, are we?"

Nessa Donovan has posed:
Having a drink sounded like a good idea to Nessa, so killing two birds with one stone and talking business over drinks was certainly an appealing prospect. "I've kind of pissed off a few not-so-upscale places with drinking contests. This place doesn't know me and the food supposedly doesn't taste like someone who has never tried actual pub fare."

The table she's seated at is comfortable, but a bit out of the way. Thankfully, the servers are at least attentive enough in offering drinks. She's already started on a whiskey, ice clinking around the glass as she swirls it a bit. "Yeah, uh, sharing notes would be great right about now because I'm starting to think this is a /mess/. Capital 'm'. I did some digging, though, and I'm pretty sure there are two actual players to this mess. The necromancer and the other seems to be someone who's manipulating the whole mess. Might know who that one is."

John Constantine has posed:
"Well this will complicate things a little," John says, and tosses a stone coin in front of Nessa. It clatters once on the wood. Small runes are etched in bas-relief, silver stone against a deep green paint behind it. "I got attacked by three amateur hit men yesterday. Gave me a proper layabout." He tugs his collar aside to reveal a hand-shaped bruise around his throat, fading fast. "'cept they weren't blokes. Ice golems, in a pretty natty disguise," he explains. "Managed to burn down one of 'em with an incantation of flame, an' this popped out of the slushy mess pretty as y'like. Norse, at least, that's the best guess i've seen for it," he amends. "No spell I know though, and I know a fair few. Must be a few centuries old if it's a day."

Nessa Donovan has posed:
"... well crap."

Nessa leans forward a bit to take a closer look at the coin. "Norse... or probably Asgardian." There's a bit of a scowl. "I'm fairly certain the other person involved in this mess is one very infamous Asgardian trickster. That thing basically confirms it for me, even if there've been other clues. Sorry about your unfortunate run-in, but it at least gives us more to work with."

There's a long swallow of the whiskey. "The necromancer, as it turns out is fairly old and kind of likes trying to be immortal and rather greedy. A friend gave me a good suggestion as to how to try and talk to whatever's in the palace. It's definitely Vega, he wants the relics, and he didn't seem to know who I was or that immortality isn't what you want to offer me. I've got no use for that." She tilts her head to the side. "So he's in there, but the Vega I met was not the same one, by my account. Someone wandering around and setting things up. Our trickster tried to give me some information that seemed like it'd be potentially useful. It made logical sense. He'd mentioned some things before, certainly knew a lot about the magic involved. He claimed the best way to trap Vega was using a phylactery to contain his soul. So I ended up getting a second opinion... he's already in one. The ice palace is holding him in, but it's crumbling."

John Constantine has posed:
John's lager arrives and he takes a few noisy gulps while Nessa talks. "Immortality's overrated. Seen what's on the telly these days?" He scoffs. "Imagine a few centuries of listening to stupid people with the same stupid problems and making the same stupid mistakes over and over. I'd set up a nice little hermit shack up near Glasgow and brew my own whiskey and come down once a month for a fatted calf and a prostitute. Ride out eternity drunk and alone."

"So we've got one Vega, one bloke pretending to be Vega giving out helpful hints for *capturing* Vega, and that second bloke is some-- Asgardian? Norse gods, eh?" he squints at Nessa. "So that'd be... Loki, I suppose," John says after searching his memory. "God of mischief, or trickery, or smoething. Only thing I remeber about him is that he banged a horse and has a horse-kid. Or something like that."

Nessa Donovan has posed:
"Yeah, immortality doesn't seem so appealing to me, not does being drunk and alone," Nessa says, taking another sip of her whiskey. "So he offered the one thing I really wouldn't give a damn about. A bit odd from someone I'd already told /what/ I wanted." She shakes her head. "'Vega' introduced himself originally as the second best ice mage in the world. I ended up asking Tristan, one of the students involved in this who the most powerful was. He said 'Vega' told him it was Loki. Kind of tracks for someone who has an incredibly high opinion of himself pretending to be someone else."

She nods towards him. "He's arrogant, unpredictable, very powerful and very bored. That's what I've got so far with my interactions him. He does what he wants, when he wants it. Not sure why he wanted to mess in things, but if it's a very elaborate way for us to give him Vega's soul in a brand new phylactery without him having to lift a finger? Wouldn't put it past him."

John Constantine has posed:
"What a plonker," John scoffs. "Don't mistake me, a mortal soul is a pretty potent thing in the right hands. A necromancer binds his soul to a trinket. Divorces it from his body. That gives him more power, makes it easier to pull from his own energies and harder for them to be corrupted. Handy trick, y'know, as long as you don't mind a half life with no joy or sorrow in it."

"A mage's soul also comes with a lot of power and knowledge. Your average git off the street doesn't have the wattage to light a bulb, but someone who's spent centuries contemplatin' the absolute and infinite, and manipulating the powers of the universe to serve him?" John's brows rise promptingly at Nessa. "That's something even a god might go after.":

Nessa Donovan has posed:
"Well, he's certainly being an utter asshole manipulating all of this. The soul is the only thing I can think that would tempt him other than sheer boredom," Nessa glances across the table, taking another good swallow of whiskey. "As far as I know, Loki isn't aware of me getting a second opinion. He thinks I'm going to research phylacteries and go that route."

She stares into her glass for a moment. "He's going through an awful lot of trouble to make everyone think the necromancer's the only one behind all this. Pretending to be the necromancer, setting up a dire situation to try and force us to use the phylactery method of solving things. A friend of mine suggested we find some way to cleanse things rather than trap it. This isn't my realm of expertise, so I'm not sure where to go with this. I know we need to stop the necromancer from getting out and causing problems, but if we're trapping it and putting it into something to contain it? It's wrapping up a present and putting a bow on it."

John Constantine has posed:
"Smash the phylactery, kill him, in that order," John says promptly. His cigarette's gone out; he ashes the butt and digs another pack out of his pocket, slapping one loose and plucking it up between his lips. A battered golden zippo lighter is snapped open one-handed and he lets the flame dance under the new tip to set it alight.

"Sir, no smoking," a waitress tells him. "Oh right, sorry luv, I'll put this out," John promises, and pretends to snuff it just until she walks off again.

"Actually binding a soul on departure is a pretty significant work of magic," John explains. "You can't just catch something trundling off to the hereafter. Not with any magic I've seen. Maybe Loki knows something I don't. But I got a feeling he wants the phylactery because, like you said--" hands drum on the table and he holds them out at Nessa. "Gift-wrapped."

"Me, I'd like to put the pinch on all of this at once. Short-term, that means deconstructing some of this ice magic. And as I don't have any friends who're experts in Norwegian runic cryomancy, I think that means it's a trip to the land of ice and ludafisk to get some answers," John says, and drains his lager before rising from the table.

Nessa Donovan has posed:
Nessa frowns, ordering another drink from the waitress as she finishes off her glass. "Smashing the phylactery and killing him is kind of easier said than done. When I went into the place, the thing sort of passively tried to feed off me. Maybe it was the use of ice magic, but it certainly liked it. Not sure if I'm going to help or harm things if we go smashing."

She scratches the back of her neck. "Short term is important, though. I'm trying to get ahold of the rest of the relics Vega wants to snatch up and make sure none of the students are getting used as batteries. There's not much of a timetable to work with, it's all sort of coming together." She nods in his direction. "I, uh, might have someone who could give me a bit of a clue as to your little coin there. He's a bit of a collector and a relative encyclopedia when it comes to relics and stuff. He could probably tell you if it /is/ Norwegan and he got a glimpse of the ice palace firsthand. Wouldn't have known why the phylactery plan was a problem if not for him. He'd help if I asked, I'm sure." She does take the opportunity to take a picture of the coin--having a reference is useful.

John Constantine has posed:
"Suit yourself love," John says, and holds a hand out for the coin once Nessa's snapped her shot. "Give me a call here in a bit then. You want to come along to the fjords, I'm leaving in a few hours. Won't be a long trip, pop'in and out, but I don't want to make it twice this week. Get hold of your friend, get what you can, and we'll make a little weekend getaway out of it." John winks at Nessa in a conspiratorial manner.

"Oops, and that's my cue," John says, and lifts his chin at the waitress and the manager heading his way. "Pip pip cheerio and all that," he mutters, and vanishes out a side door surprisingly quickly.

The waitress gives Nessa an aggrieved look. "Tell your friend he's not welcome here anymore, this is a non-smoking establishment," she says irately. "And I've got your check if you're ready to leave too."

Naturally, John stiffed Nessa on the tab!

Nessa Donovan has posed:
There's an amused look on Nessa's face as John leaves, and it doesn't leave her face even with the waitress comes by again. "That's okay, not sure if we're friends yet anyway," she nods at the waitress. "I'll take the check." She glances after John for a moment.

Good thing she'd been planning on paying in the first place.