5086/With Words Unspoken

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With Words Unspoken
Date of Scene: 08 February 2021
Location: The Empire Club - Lounge
Synopsis: Beware the bodysnatchers of the Bronx. They're bombastically bad.
Cast of Characters: Meggan Puceanu, Amora, Julio Richter

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Daytime makes for a fine time to drink, right? Certainly the clock doesn't matter when it comes to a fine tipple, or meeting over liquor. And daytime is a wholly artificial construct, anyhow, once past windows and open doors.

Call it luck or the word on the street where to find certain people. Call it a passing chat with a soul riding along in tandem. At least it would be for Jacqueline Falsworth, currently host to an occultist respectable in years -- though nothing on Amora the Enchantress -- and certainly aware of where some of his fine compatriots meet. Whatever, it's a venue for a spasm of luck to unsnarl a devious, dark mystery at their fingertips.

For Meggan, it happens to be another venue she can work without being side-eyed too often. The fact she's here earns the side-eye anyways from people familiar with her activism, but not enough to prevent them from ordering some proper stout or a good cider. She isn't the only person working as a bartender, but the regular Joe needs a few hours' sleep and freedom from the demands of others. Besides, it's a paying gig.

Amora has posed:
If Amora goes to a place she makes damn well sure she is going to be seen, and adored. She certainly does seem to bask in that way mortals appear to often grovel at her feet. At least the more weak willed ones. And she gives them no quarter, relentless in the manner she dresses, a nearly see-through dress, shimmering with a mix of light and shadow. Magic? Most likely, at least to those attuned to such senses. It gives just that impression that someone will be able to see right through it and see skin yet..., the more one tries the less it will become seen, shadows covering her further.. The only caveat? If they aren't trying to oggle.., well.., they may just see more than they wanted..

Such games she plays with these mortals!

She enters at a stride, crystal blue eyes taking note of the gathered here tonight before she is making way to the bar where a familiar face is, "Gloriana." she acknowledges the woman, voice gentle and soothing. "Saving the world by day and moonlighting as a bartender by night?" she asks softly, settling down on a bench by the bar.

"Or am I entering your domain?" one of those things she likes to clarify from the start.

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter slumps in with his head clutched in his hands and bloodshot eyes wide. He makes a beeline for the bar and struggles into a leather-upholstered stool next to Amora -- who puts half a back on a barstool? Just build a chair! -- and leans heavily on his elbows once he's situated. "I have got to get this guy out of my brain," he says in a tiny, stifled wail, staring at the bartop.

He lifts his eyes to greet Meggan and then Amora with a casual, "Hola" -- but then whirls away as if scalded, throwing his arm over his eyes, blurting out, "Jesucristo, wey, you can NOT think stuff like that about my friends!" There's a moment of quiet, then, again staring at the counter, he whispers, "That's not the same! I just /looked/. Besides, they're MY eyeballs!"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight, the Japanese lyrics are only right, moonlight densetsu," Meggan sings the simple melody, twisting it around. She wipes down a ring of water left by a pitcher delivered back from one of the low tables. "Mine? Scarcely, ma'am. I can hardly rub two coins together, much less buy somewhere like this."

It's not hopping busy in the Empire Club, but enough that the blonde in her barely-there dress certainly earns the mass of stares. Even Meggan isn't immune, though she asides, "I wasn't aware they made whole frocks out of illusion netting." Doesn't stop her from falling mostly prey to the effect, though in fairness, her frame of reference over the world is so in the moment that it causes perennial headaches for psychics. But nonetheless, she might be forgiven -- or not -- for that light sigh, full of dramatic purpose and meaning.

"You feel heavy today, mate." This last at Julio requires her to focus elsewhere for a minute, to remember more than sparkle and shadow. "Normally I might suggest a Dark and Stormy for you, but you look like you could use a mixed up Black and Tan. How do you feel about mocha, the hot drink?" It's a clarification made with the reflex of a bartender, her mixology skills on the show as she already reaches for a metal cup. "And would you care for anything, ma'am?" This to Amora, which takes a few moments to settle in.

She stares at Julio again through her loose golden hair, head tipped. "What've you gone and done with yourself?"

Amora has posed:
"Someone that learned with the kind of people you mentioned when we met shouldn't have trouble conjuring enough .., sustenance." Amora casting a very brief look around the room, "At least three here that a simple glamour would work on and ..--" she stops talking when the loud Julio comes to join them. She takes a moment to recognize him before a brow arches at the outburst, "Make it four." a faint smirk starting to creep into her smile then she laughing at Meggan's comment on her dress. "Do you like it? So polarizing, either hate or love it, but never the in-between." which appears to be right up her alley. Any attention is good attention!

She leans an elbow on the table, crystal blue eyes staying on Meggan a touch longer before she regards Julio again, "If I didn't know better I would say you have a spirit within you? What have you been doing, Julio?" she letting out a sigh. "Ah, the Aztec Gods.." as if she just remembered, shaking her head slowly to herself. Clearly she does not approve of the man playing with them on his own!

"I will have a cosmopolitan. And please do not call me ma'am. Amora will suffice." a beat, "Ma'am just makes me feel old."

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio, who now has his elbows on the bar and both forearms held in front of his eyes like a reverse privacy screen, swivels his open hands to dual thumbs-up at Meggan's drink suggestion. "Guinness and lager, right?" he asks. He's worked the taps once or twice, himself. "It's not myself that's the problem. It's Dani." Then, in a voice pitched up ever so slightly, and free of most of Julio's Mexican accent, he corrects himself. "Uh, it's Daniel. Not Dani." His arms scissor open and he peers at Meggan curiously. "I like mocha. You're seriously just going to serve him a beer?"

When Amora addresses him, he turns to her and grins, looking a little overwhelmed. "Oh, yeah, definitely," he says in that same unfamiliar voice. "I'm a good spirit, though. And, uh, count me in for loving your dress. It's-- ¡Madre de Dios! Do NOT finish that sentence!" Annnnd Julio's back. "We need to find him his body so he can go back to his GIRLFRIEND. And I can go back to NOT BEING BISEXUAL."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Possibly wise for her to agree. Just look away. A cosmo is the easiest thing in the world to whip up, but to do it well takes Meggan time to wrench her attention away from the ambient emotional cloud rolling violently around Julio and those scattershot pinpoints of awe, lust, jealousy, desire that chase after Amora wherever the Asgardian usually trots. The careful application of liquor bottles pulled down from the shelf gives her a starting point, and she sets them aside. "A hot Black and Tan has white chocolate mocha and dark chocolate mocha. I'd normally throw a shot of something in there like Frangelico or Amaretto. But for you, maybe just something that is straight." Like straight vodka. But that may not be an option, so she sweeps her hand towards a small coffee machine fancy enough to handle espresso and frothy things. Using that isn't beyond the limits of her experience, as the push button mode is a bit easy and there's a taped set of notes to follow. Turns out the regular bartender isn't any better.

So it takes time for her to gather the needed liquors while the machine heats up. No need for milk yet. The cosmo requires Cointreau and vodka poured neatly into a shaker, ice liberally dabbled smoothly and brightly together. Lime juice comes with the dabble of orange and citrus extracts. "Your dress is remarkable, there is that. I cannot say I often see things like it, and every line is eye catching. That's sort of the point, at least where I come from." It might be best to bite her tongue. She can't even blush, flashing a startled look back to Julio. Doubly, as her eyes round, widened, vastly green to the shade of leaves in the spring. "You never read like that. Is everything okay in there? Daniel... is... very loud. A good cup of hot chocolate should help, but your friend really needs to sit down with you. Deep breath, it's not the kind of digs you need to get so excited at. We're British. Bisexual or not, that means... less thrilling than New York." A wink plays to type, as she swirls the cosmo with a stick and then smacks the lid on after adding a dram of cranberry juice.

Shaking really isn't going to help settle Daniel down, is it?

Amora has posed:
"Mmm, I like this Daniel though.." Amora teases, ruby lips curved up in a gentle smile, "Why don't you let him come out? I am sure we could have fun. And who knows? Maybe he could even convince me to kick *you* out and leave Daniel in permanently, mmm?" but then she just laughs, "Just a tease, young one."

A nod is given to Meggan, watching her go over the preparations of the drinks, curious about it, "You do seem to enjoy your craft. For how long have you done ..., this?" she gesturing to the surrounding club. "But anyway dear Julio, being bisexual or not has nothing to do with it. I transcend those notions." she says in a natural tone, "So do feel free to fall in love with me, we will not think less of you." so generous of her! And the worse thing is that she *actually* sounds as if she means it.

Really, it's as if she expects that's just how things go with mortals.

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio nods, mutely at first, then he says, "He is /so/ loud. He's not a bad guy, he's just... He's so noisy that I can't even put together the 'please I've had enough straight' joke that I know I should be making right now." He snorts out a laugh, and it's hard to tell which of the people in his body found that comment funny. "He's scared and he -- you are, too, wey, it's jangling my nerves -- he doesn't know how long it's been since he saw people he knows and it's just. It's a lot."

He sinks in his seat and says, "But yeah, that drink sounds good. I haven't had one of those before."

In his unguarded moment, Daniel takes the wheel again, laughing a little nervously at Amora's flattery. "I mean, I wouldn't mind meeting up with you guys when I'm back in my own body," he says. "I just need to make sure I still /have/ a body, y'know? And Julio, having a straight guy and a gay guy in the same body is not how bisexuality works. You should know more about this stuff." He looks at Amora, a dreamy smile on Julio's lips. "You can explain it, right? He says your name is Amora?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Mixing drinks? Officially, a few years." The unspoken promise of what unofficially means runs right off the rails, but Amora earns that ready little smile. Meggan holds up the shaker and pulls the lid off, looking down for a few seconds. "It needs a jot more citrus. Hold on, let's see." The vodka she ignores, going for the lime juice and pouring a splash in for another swift little swirl, before pouring it all out into a waiting cup just as the coffee machine starts to hiss and demand focus in earnest.

One drink on a disposable, 100% recyclable coaster for the Asgardian and then she has to worry about steaming milk and getting the chocolate syrups balanced. The bottle of vodka goes on the shelf, the lime juice into the fridge. Over there, a light touch nudges the bitters bottle onto its proper shelf. The squeeze bottles of syrup aren't quite so labeled fancily, but not being able to tell white chocolate from dark chocolate is a basic function of anyone with eyes. A few squeezes coat the interior of the metal cup and it's soon enough doused. Milk brims and hisses when shot through by the foamer, and she looks over her shoulder back to Julio and Amora. "Ah, that makes up for why you look ready to climb to the ceiling. Pretending it's not there as a problem by laughing and admiring our friend here, rather than facing the screaming terror underneath. It's human nature. Even when things aren't feeling that way, it proves you are still yourself."

She has to bite back the question of bodies, her eyebrows arching sharply and the questions there. Nope, not the time to ask; too late, her hand's already burnt, skin flushed pink where the contact with the superheated tap earns a hiss and snatching her arm away. Shaking it out doesn't actually do anything than make a small scene, but working one-handed to get the drink settled down isn't hard.

And in a blink, that bright reddening patch is gone, melted over by warm creamy skin like nothing happened at all.

Amora has posed:
With the cosmopolitan being served Amora gives Meggan one of her best smiles, "Thank you, darling." she says, holding the cup up with a couple of fingers to take a sip, a moment to savor it before offering her approval with a slight nod before attention goes to Julio/Daniel, "Amora the Enchantress." she confirms, arching a brow. "Yet once you are back in your body all the novelty about you will be gone unfortunately. It is just how these things go." she letting out a resigned sigh.

"I am curious on *how* you got to enter inside our friend here though. A story you wish to share?" Even if a side-eyed look is given towards Meggan. Yes, she noted the hesitant gesture when the man's body was mentioned. "Do you know anything about the man's body, Gloriana?"

Another sip.

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio's eyes swivel back to Meggan as she mixes the drinks, and he agrees in his own voice, "He's got a very macho front. And" -- he tips his head toward Amora with an amused smile -- "he's easily distracted." The amusement vanishes into a look of annoyance, and he continues, "Also, he thinks he's smarter than me just because he has a 'high school diploma.' But: Who had to save who from a culty DJ's soul cage, Dani? Hmm?"

Silence, for a second, from both of them. Then, "That's what I thought."

When his drink arrives, he gives Meggan a concerned look. "You OK?" Daniel's voice, puzzled. "It looked like you hurt yourself for a second, but you're not... hmm."

He turns back to Amora. With his accent back in place, Julio answers, "He was one of the souls Itzi was going to... well, one of the souls we saved. I guess you were still out there with Constantine when we grabbed them. They needed bodies to leave, so I carried him out in mine." His eyes roll upward a bit. "YOU'RE WELCOME." Refocusing, he continues, "I can't just put him in a squirrel or something now. But I can't do anything about body-finding."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The annoyance and the frustration swirl. It's something impossible for the blonde Englishwoman to ignore, though her perplexed expression grows considerably more troubled when Amora piles on the question. "A body? Why, should I? It's not polite of me to comment on appearances like that." A dodge, but only so effective. "Wait, what? A DJ's soul cage. You don't mean one of those ridiculous hanging cages on the old dance club shows, like back in the Nineties? When they'd shove a dancer up in there in the dark?"

The order dropped off by someone in the corner gets mechanically processed, but it's easy, just a foamy dark lager pulled from a tap. That's so much easier than a cosmopolitan, so she can hand it back in time.

Eyes spark, her lower lip bitten sharply between her teeth as she listens. Worried over. "As things go, I don't have a clue. John... John's involved? That gives your friend a bit more of a hope then. If you're talking a willing kind of possession, that falls squarely outside what I do. I mean... vessels emptied like that come with very bad, very dark juju. The kind that ends in a circle of candles and chanting, or a sonic screwdriver fixing everything, and we're flat out of screwdrivers. Trust me, I looked."

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio takes a sip of his drink and then shakes his head. "No, it's this DJ who I think is also a priest of Itztlacoliuhqui. I think he did all the evil tagging, and I /know/ he's been catching people like Leena and Daniel and imprisoning their souls. His name's Winter Santos. Has kind of a sketchy reputation but he's always pulling people into his crew who want to live big."

He gives her a flat look, then, and echoes, "The 90s?" Might as well be another planet, as far as both of him are concerned. The Doctor Who reference is also a big void as far as his particular demographic is concerned, so he offers, "There should be orange juice in the soda gun, if they're asking for a screwdriver."

With Julio at a loss, Daniel's New York cadence takes over, and he protests, "My body isn't bad juju! I might not be a superhero, but I take care of myself."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Don't make me make the noise at you. A proper sonic screwdriver /and/ David Tennant are all this world needs," Meggan says with fierce intensity, her lips quirking in that bright smile. "So you hear. Evil DJs don't stand a chance. Might not with a proper screwdriver, like the drink, but I'll tell you a sonic does things. Some badass musician fellow is, what, grabbing people and jailing their souls?" The indignation is there, simmering under the surface, cool shadows gleaming gold behind that usually smiling facade. Not smiling now.

"Soul prisons are old and devastating things, aren't they? I'm not a warlock at all, or whatever it makes you if you're a practitioner. They all use different names. But having your soul kicked into a box is a horrid experience, the longer it is. Like... I can't even wish it on anyone, nor would I." Right, has a heart. The apparent ignorance about Doctor Who is too much. "Don't you watch anything civilised over here? Get your phone, plunk in Doctor Who. You /and/ your friend are missing out."

Julio Richter has posed:
A haunted look enters Julio's eyes, and he mutters in Daniel's voice, "Yeah, it was... not great. Cold. I don't know how long we were in there."

Julio gives him a second, then chimes in, "We got everyone out who was there, but there were a lot more empty cages. Either he had more prisoners and used them up, or he's planning to get more."

He downs a little bit more of his drink, then continues, "We know what the graffiti was about; I still haven't figured out what the deal with those Apollyon coins is. But whatever it is, we need to shut down Santos and find these people's bodies before he does anything else weird and horrible."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Cold. Graffiti and coins? I need a rundown, friend, not enough of this makes sense to follow. I feel like you told me necromancy, dance club, Nepal, and a verb." Meggan looks mostly pained, confused. She shakes her head slightly. "I'm not that good at connecting things. Come again?"