7061/Whitechapel

Whitechapel
Date of Scene:	24 July 2021
Location:	Whitechapel England
Synopsis:	7061
Cast of Characters:	John Constantine, Rien D'Arqueness, Phoebe Beacon, Morrigan MacIntyre, Meggan Puceanu, Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe

---

John Constantine has posed:
    Tonight's journey didn't began, as they oft do, in the Laughing Magician, no, it began in an old Gothic Manor on Founder's Island. Strange, it seemed such a large and sprawling thing from the outside, but on the inside it was two rooms; a parlor and a kitchen. No other doors anywhere.

    Two things of note: The ugly ass Elvira style fainting couch? That's as much John's spot as his stool at the bar. ...and two? John Constantine looks like he should be dead, really, he looks like the walking dead this evening. He's a greenish sort of pale white, sweaty, a little shaky. Morrigan, you really don't wanna look at the why of that.. There might be a little white powder clinging to one nostril. Those that know him know that he doesn't resort to recreational drugs unless things are *that bad*. He's generally a 'booze only' kinna bloke.

    But he left little time for questions or discussions before he bade the House to open a portal to where he needed to be; in front of a quaint little house in Whitechapel.

    He walks right on up and raps on the door. While waiting for the occupant to answer, he tells everyone, "I really don't know what's going here just yet, seems a mess though from what I've heard so far, four women dead, a fifth missing, maybe another victim."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    Rien showed up at the time John set to begin, and spent a couple minutes trying to figure out the house. It's pretty obviously magical, but not like anything she's seen previously. If John didn't look like death warmed over, she probably would have asked him about it.

    As it is, she saves it for another time.

    When the portal opens, she follows John through, waiting slightly behind him and to the right. Given that he's knocking politely and hasn't warned them to be ready, she has not yet put up any defensive magics.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe was not pleased about anything about this. She wasn't even one-hundred-pecent-sure how he got the number to her broken cellphone, but he did, and she looked relatively less haggard compared to him.

    She disapproves of the powder, but prefers to think that maybe, just maybe, John had to make a Dunkin' Donuts run and really likes the powdered ones.

    Poor, sweet child of summer.

    Her hair is almost Au Natural today -- pulled into a pair of low 'puffs' at the back of her neck, parted in the middle rather than her braids, and when she crosses through the portal and comes to London, she feels the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan shows up wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and a grey suit jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Her sunglasses are firmly in place as the light is starting to bother her more these days. Her hair is down which makes that white streak in it a point of focus for some. She looks to the white powder that's a beacon on John's nose and there's nothing said. If she had things to deal with like he did she might do a few lines, but, she was a drug free half vampire.

She gives a nod to others before following through the portal to Whitechapel. "Well...this is lovely." the Irish woman states.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Any doubts that John Constantine is not up to a jaunt through London would already be buried with Dickens' urchins before he set forth from that fancy pile rooted to Gotham's fortunes. Some matters simply cannot be changed, so arguing would be a waste of breath. Meggan hitches her star to that thrice-damned mage, which means following him through a portal back home.

The other side wrenches her straight out of sunshine blonde to its Bengali equivalent. T-shirt and jeans are the same, but luxurious black hair bounces back from her cinnamon complexion. With a good little shake of her head, the shapeshifted woman casts a look round the refreshed Victorian terrace homes off the main drag. The scent of proper takeaway, thick with curry and fresh green chiles, send her onto tiptoe to track where it might be coming from, some little no-frills spot under a plain green awning. Even the melodies have changed; no longer the Lake Country dialect, her London English's all singsong with somewhere from Bangladesh. "Dinner afterward, you figure?" she asks. "You've not lived til you try the curry round here. Fancy spicy food?" Rien's appetites are unknown, Phoebe's only guessed at, so she aims to be polite.

Who eats dinner after murder? Cast iron stomached people, that's who. "How'd you manage to find the one freestanding cottage in the place? Historical, this. Or rich person's spot." Are either reasons for murder? That's probably the hope. "Pretty lovely compared to elsewhere in the Tower Hamlets. Not the nicest spot round about here."

John Constantine has posed:
    The man that answers the door seems to be in his late thirties, maybe? It's really a little hard to say. For those that can sense or see such things; he's not quite human. Maybe just a hint of something else? Demon tainted? Other end of the spectrum? Vampire-ish? Just not human is the most obvious.

    "Constantine."

    "Inspector Ramsey."

    It all seems so serious until Ramsey steps aside to let everyone in out of the rain. He cracks a smile and says, "John."

    "Paul." It might be noted that the 'bro-hug' that follows lasts a beat or seven too long, the, "You look like straight shite, mate," offered by Paul is whispered a little too intimately. Awkward moment maybe?

    But when they pull apart, Paul's attention falls on Meggan next. "You must be Meg. Never thought I'd see the day someone tamed this one." So, someone John's obviously still in contact with on the regular? "Good to know someone has his back. But, we'll save that for drinks after, aye? These killings, John, it's... they're off. Four women so far, one missing, and now there's even been a man. All of them seem to be... well, not one of them is 'working' class." Man's trying to be polite.

    Not one of them was a hooker.

    "...but from the first, I noticed it, and the second I was sure of it. Every single victim died in the exact manner of the Ripper's victims, exact wounds far as I can recall." Yes, he was *there* back then, maybe explains the freestanding that. "Not just copycat, but exact replicas, found in the same positions, same wounds. Just not the same locations. I have all the files we have."

    Said files are spread out over the table in the kitchen. "Have a seat everyone. I'm Paul Ramsey and I guess I'm your tour guide through a little spot of nightmare."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    Rien waits while the two men greet each other, then follows them into the house. When he starts talking about the Ripper victims as if he was there for them, she raises an eyebrow and asks "You seem very familiar with the Ripper's case, some sort of hobby, perhaps?"

    She takes one of the indicated seats, scanning over the files on the table, then turning back to Paul. "This sounds - I hate to say interesting, since we have multiple people dead, but strange that someone would bother to be so exact on the wounds but not also use the same locations. Do you have a map of the area with the locations? Perhaps the locations are forming some kind of mystical figure."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Love it, but mostly vegetarian. Long story." Phoebe replies to Meggan beore she offers the Inspector a small smile and watches as the two men embrace. She is somehow left unsurprised by the feeling of calm that she senses. is invited in out of the wonderful and cheery London air. She was just wearing a plain black T-shirt beneath a black jacket with a yellow stripe accross the front, but she offers a warm smile to Paul.

    "Are they alike in looks to the original victims?" she inquires, "Or perhaps in expression or mode of dress." she asks, and she picks up one case file. She appears to be familiar enough with reading legal notes.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
One addition tonight that hasn't really been around the Laughing Magician this evening on the stroll. The redheaded teenager doesn't really feel like magic, but she is here for some reason hands stuffed in the pockets of her hoodie, hood pulled up. It has a nice dark red like blood color to it and a wonder women symbol on the front of it. Jeans and scuffed boots complete the outfit. Dressed in her civvies.

She owes John though, a lot, and this is Gotham so she is an easy pickup for the trip as a native and local problem solver. If one can call the Batclan problem solvers. Also depends on owe. Technically Nightwing and Batgirl paid John his money and occult knickknacks for the job, but it doesn't mean Charlie doesn't feel like she owes him for his help still.

That and she wants to learn more about magic, since that is evidently what she is and does.

Stepping through she will look around and get her bearings. "Oh, nice trick." she sounds young. Definitely a minor. Child endangerment much.

She hangs back though during the greetings with the Inspector and John. The talk of missing women and men. In Whitechapel doesn't seem to worry or phase her. She just watches very attentive.

She drifts to lewan against one of the kitchen counters, clear she doesn't want to be in the way, though she is peering curious at the spread out files. Craning her neck a bit to look.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"If George and Ringo appear this might get a little weird...er than it usually does." Morrigan mutters to herself as she looks to the others. Then she quiets down, listening and paying attention to John and Paul speak to each other. "Hopefully it's not some vampire hybrid thing." she shakes her head. She doesn't have a lot to add for the moment. While she had interest in the Ripper murders she wasn't an expert. And she definitely wasn't around for the original ones.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan tilts her head, that thick braid slewing off her shoulder and bouncing back and forth. "Hullo!" The friendly hug from Paul to John doesn't bother her at all, not from the bright smile and playful shrug of her shoulders that puts none too hard a point on that greeting. "Sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances. Better a sunny day but we can't change the rain, can we?"

She will be neither first or last into the house, squishing herself into a convenient corner out of the way of the files. Other more orderly people might take a fairly scholarly approach. Not her. The smile bleeds off pretty quick all the same, replaced by a concerned frown and something approaching bleeding horror as the surgical facts of famous cases come due. "The police haven't been worried much. The people, they're from round here or just passing by?"

She can worry about vegan takeaway options with Phoebe later. Her phone, of course, doesn't want to operate here. US carrier, UK options. "And me without my Vodaphone account. Bother. Any wifi to use?" Looking over the screen, she gives a little wiggle of the screen. "They being attacked in the same way but different locations? This area's got bloody walking tours for crying outloud, whoever has gone about doing this is two screws loose."

John Constantine has posed:
    "Just... point me at what needs magicked when you all figure it out," John mumbles before he plants himself on the couch in the living room. If further proof was needed that John Constantine was in dire straights? Well there it is. Him not being in the middle of the conversation is telling, so very telling. The fact that he actually *falls asleep* with his head leaned back, mouth hanging open, in about two point two is even more telling.

    "It's bad?" it's asked of everyone, but more pointed at Meggan. "Sorry, wouldn't have called if I'd known. Odds of getting him to just stay here?" He probably knows the answer to that. Business, getting down to it.

    Paul pulls a map from one of the folders on the table and spreads it out. "Something like that," he replies to Rien, little vague that. "Nothing, nothing like that, I've already looked for a pattern and nothing. I was hoping maybe John could see one, but..." Well, the bastard's asleep innit he? "No similarities *at all*." Just a beat and he adds, "Last victim, locked room." Well, isn't that always the way of it? It's so cliche' that John'd rolling his eyes if he wasn't *asleep*.

    "Here, all of them here. Police are worried, I'm lead investigator on the case, but they're... not looking at it right, for obvious reasons. ... for the same reasons that I can't just bring John in on the books." His gaze flickers in the direction of the living room and the sleeping mage. He clears his throat a little self-consciously. "Password is MucousMembrane, all one both capital m's. Been using it since '09, habit."

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Charlie speaks up like a second time. "My phone has international coverage, if we need to order anything I can handle it."

She doesn't pull the phone out though she pulls out of her pocket a pair of blue framed, yellow lensed goggles and slips them on before finally stepping in to actually look through the files. She carefully turns the pages studying them methodically. Definitely trained by someone in examining police files.

It probably helps she is feeding it all through her HUD through the Oracle Array and Bat Computer for analysis.

"You should probably update your password too that is crazy easy to break..." directed to Paul.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    "Ok, so no pattern to the killings, but wounds exactly the same as the Ripper's victims. And by calling in John, you obviously are thinking something supernatural is involved. So what about it made you call John in? I mean, the locked room thing is a little strange, but not enough to turn from the mundane to magical by itself. And the wounds could be from some weird Ripper groupie. So what exactly made you decide this required a mage's touch?"

    She is looking through some of the files as she asks her questions, looking at both new files and the old material on the Ripper murders. The pictures don't seem to phase her at all as she studies them.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Let him sleep. He toppled a temple not two days ago and set me on fire yesterday." Phoebe states as naturally as it was breathing. She purses her lips a moment and she breathes out in a soft puff of air.

    And she looks to Charlie.

    "Gotham?" she asks, looking at the redhead with a questioning expression, and she gives just the most wry of little smiles.

    "So the victims aren't connected to each other or to the victims of the past -- can rule out trying to match 'blood for blood' guess. Just random, unfortunate ladies... you said the last victim might still be alive?"

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a look to John who has gone to pass out and there's a bit of a frown, but not because he's asleep, mainly because he's in such bad shape. She then looks back to the others. "What's the name of the lastest woman that's missing?" she asks. She then quiets again after that. Just in case anyone else had things that they wanted to ask.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Don't shoot the messenger! Meggan scrunches up her nose at Paul. Those near-black eyes appraise him rather directly, and she puts her finger slowly to her mouth in the universal 'hush' gesture in case he gets ideas. Apparently John is having a con-nap, and then he'll be back to death warmed over.

She busies herself with logging into the WiFi, so at least her phone can catch an Internet uplink and start bombarding her with notification after notification from too many active social media accounts. Options, if they need them, are kept in the back pocket. "Tell me if you need a diversion organized. I can do that." Nose-deep in shuffling around Google Maps, she wings along Hanbury Street and veers off. "So here's the tricky bit, the known victims number five. Probably too much to hope they decided to stop at that. Is there any proof of a single responsible party or more than one?"

These are not questions she wants to ask, but being a consummate pop culture consumer means watching way too many cop procedurals on the BBC or ITV. Along with cat memes, she can formulate a few questions. "There were five confirmed victims, back then. Six other murders are merely alleged to be Ripper victims. Suppose this is a copycat, the sixth will probably be a hanging; a seventh, a throat-slashing." That's enough bloody internet for today. She glances at Phoebe, making a bit of a face. "Bloody night, let's hope the fifth isn't alive considering what happened to the original."

John Constantine has posed:
    "Because the wounds are too exact to just be that," Paul tells Rien. "Keep meaning too, something of a sentimentalist though..." is directed to Charlie.

    In the living room, John lets out a little groan of a sound and shifts to actually lay down, arm over his eyes. "Any strange smells at the scenes?"

    "Welcome back," Paul replies from the kitchen. "No, nothing but death and blood."

    Paul falls silent for a beat or two, gaze wandering over those gathered as if weighing each one individually. Finally he speaks up with, "Look, you all are obviously here because, for some reason, you feel that daft crazy bastard in there is worth traipsing off on a lark to a different country to help, so you all deserve to know part of the truth of it. I was there. Then, the other killings, the Ripper, I was there. I saw them all. It's burned into my mind like a brand, each one of them. At the time I couldn't stop it, couldn't help." Or more wouldn't, the helping would come later and it would cost him so much. "...and I'm telling you that the wounds on these victims are *exactly* like the others, in order. Someone or something is mirroring the method's of the Ripper to the letter, to the exact stab, the exact length of each cut... *exactly* the same." He can't stress that enough, exactly, there's no way someone could just do that, no matter the amount of sick fanboying they'd done.

    "He was a bloody, angel, they're not permitted to step in and do anything. He got tired of doing nothing and now he's not one, simple as that," John pipes up, a little grumpy, from the sofa.

    "Asshole," Paul channels his inner Chas in a mutter. "Might be, don't know. There's a woman missing, yes and they're looking at that, but all the rest of the murders have taken place in the homes of the victims. I was hoping to get John to at least one of the scenes, let him do his thing..." A beat, eyes widen a little. "... that was *him*?" The temple that is. "*Asshole*," he repeats.

    "Wanker..." from the living room.

    "Elizabeth Cain is the one missing. She's thirty-four, married to Bryant Cain, they have two kids. She didn't come home from a trip to the market three days ago, right before I called John. No, it was the man found like that. Abraham Larson. He's definitely dead."

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
A bit of a blush when Phoebe makes the Gotham question and that wry smile. "Uh.. yeah is it that obvious?" she asks in return, but she does manage a small smile back before glancing down to the police files again. "The police missed a connection that probably isn't really pertinent. At least I don't think so... but I know to not leave things like it unsaid. Two of the victims has domestic violence calls, the man and one of the women, loud arguing. Nothing on the other two though and I don't think it is actually connected to this."

She steps back pushing the goggles up onto her forehead. "The inspector is right though. The wounds though are precise... like exact and I do mean exact wound patterns from the original ripper murders. Not just a casual copy cat but something able to inflict the wounds exactingly.. " she mmms "Which means they were either restrained... unconcious.. or this is not human." she wobbles her hand "The woman missing but not found yet with wounds does mean they may just be restrained and murdered copycat style without a bad supernatural edge though. Can't rule that out just on the police files."

She blinks and looks at Paul though. "Former Angel.. like..." there is a long pause "Yah know.. considering the demons three and everything else.. just going to roll with that." she nods very determined.

Still now she has a name, she pulls the Goggles back down and murmurs. "Run a pull, everything on Elizabeth Cain, 32, London. Married to Bryant Cain. Full movement trace and all CCTV please. Need everything from..." names a time before the disappearance "to now, Missing Person Sequence Seven." and then she leans back against one of the counters again.

Well if the earlier Gotham thing wasn't like.. obvious.. there it is.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "We saved an awful lot of lives. One nameless priest dead, most serious injury a snapped fibula from an ox cart, thousands and thousands without injury guided peacably to safety. Which is why I think he had donuts." the young woman states quizically, and she looks back to Paul in contemplation. She had *so many* stupid questions to ask regarding his past, but it was neither here nor there.

    "Considering what I do in Gotham, who I know... besides." Phoebe motions to the goggles, "I'm living in Chelsea." she explains, "see something like that every once in a while. If you wouldn't mind forwarding it to my phone as well? If we find Mrs. Cain, and she's alive, we'll keep her that way. On that I can be absolutely sure."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    Rein looks up from the files to Paul when Constantine outs his angelic past, looking closer at the man before saying, "Well, _that_ I didn't expect. Don't run across many angels in my line of work, just far too many demons. You should tell your ex-boss it may be a little too easy for those things to get to this existence."

    After Charlie mentions the precision, she nods and says, "Ok, so as she said, it's the precision that makes it stand out, and I agree, if it's that precise, it is most likely not a copycat. Nobody is that precise when killing a living being, there's too many differences in the composition of the body."

    She looks from the file she's got in her hand to Paul again, "So you were there for the first time, but couldn't act due to the rules imposed on you, but did you ever see anything unusual with the actual Ripper murders? Did they seem to be supernatural at the time, any sense of the mystic to them?"

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan tunes out the conversation around her for a moment and heads for a window that she can touch. Might be weird, but the Irish woman wasn't really talkative. With the name of the missing given she relaxes for a moment, touching finger tips to the window gently. She dips her head for a few moments and then there's a frown that twists her face as she lets her hand fall.

"She's not dead." she announces as she turns back to the group. "And...she doesn't appear to be in danger. Unless I picked up on the wrong woman entirely." she looks a little confused by that.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan doesn't have much to say to that bit about the angel. She doesn't seem too surprised, her expression hardly changed. Following it all seems to be the tricky business, but she hooks her hands around her knees and largely just waits. "Being that precise would be tough considering the descriptions of the injuries are really clear, but forensics in the Victorian period weren't perfect. Could be something that old, something whistled up. Ghost seems a bit of a push. Murder spirit? Postcognitive?"

She gives a little shake of her head.

John Constantine has posed:
    "Wait," John mumbles as he literally rolls his lanky self up off the couch, onto his side, one foot flat on the floor and a struggle to get the rest of himself up and on both feet. "Domestic calls?" he echoes. "It's a really small percentage of those situations that actually get reported. People don't much like gettin' involved either, guess we're not so far from the angels in that regard, aye?"

    He shuffles his way into the kitchen to join the others, taking up a position near enough to Meggan that their arms are touching, then he actually slides said arm around her waist. Could be leaning on her a bit there. Someone has to hold the fae up, right?

    "John's right, just because only two make the cut, doesn't mean the others don't fit the mold too," Paul agrees. "But what the bloody hell's that got to do with the price of tea in China?" He seems to be skipping right on over the Angel comments, any and all of them.

    "He was just a piece of shit human and there were more than five victims." Now that Paul's been outed, there's no need to hold back on things that might be hard to explain. "Just run off maybe? It happens, people get tired of their lives..."

    "Last crime scene, it'll have the strongest imprint left," John pipes up from his spot, holding Meggan up lest she fall on her face. "Somethin' summoned up," he mumbles. "Literally, up... would be my guess." But then he's not at his best game, maybe he's wrong? "Question's why? ...and why these people?"

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
"Yeah that is why I wanted to mention it, you never know what little things might be actual leads in cases like this." her eyes are scanning reading something in her goggles, or watching something. "Or so I'm told by some detectives I know." she notes with a touch of amusement.

She glances over at Phoebe and looks her up and down. "Oh." is all she says, then some more eye movement and an anonymous data packet with the data Charlie pulled up is dropped onto Phoebe's phone.

Then well something distracts her. "Oh crap." and she straightens up from the counter there eyes unfocused, definitely watching something on her goggles not the room. "Uh... okay. Gang.... Mrs Cain is the connection. She has been caught on London's honestly oppressive levels of CCTV outside every victims home in the days leading up to each murder. Two or three days before each one of them, blending in with the crowds ... purposefully picking really busy times of day based on the pattern."

Someone is clearly using better technology than Scotland Yard.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    "Yes, I imagine several of us have ways to detect the presence of the supernatural, so perhaps a trip to the last crime scene might yield some clues that a mundane officer would be unable to see or sense. Can we get to the scene, or is it so recent that the police will still be in there doing forensic work?"

    When John makes his way into the room, she looks over at him and asks, "Do you actually feel up to this? You're looking pretty shaky at the moment."

    When Charlie shares the camera info, she looks over at her and asks, "Well, you seem to have some very handy connections. Can whatever you're using run through those oppressive cameras and find the last location Mrs. Cain shows up?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a slight smile to Charlie, and a soft "Pleasure to meet you."

    And the datapacket is dropped. She's thankful for that update, and she frowns as she opens it and reads the information.

    "So Mrs. Cain might not be the victim--" she tucks her cracked-screen cellphone back into her jacket and hesitantly goes to stand a bit closer to John, keeping an eye on him a moment, then up to Meggan, then back to John. "This was way more important than the train." she chides gently, and breathes out as she turns back to Paul, then to the other magical sort around the table. "If we have her name and her image, can you locate her if the cameras haven't caught her?"

John Constantine has posed:
    "The day I'm not up to it, luv is the day a war breaks out in Hell," John murmurs, or more... rasps, sore throat that. He's wearing his tie a little tight tonight, top button of his shirt all done up even, odd.

    "I can clear the room and get us in if they're still there." Paul's brow furrows a little before he continues, "But... if this is leading to where it looks like it might be, is that necessary?" Normally this is where he might ask if John can find Mrs. Cain. Normally the answer would be yes, it might even be yes now if the question got asked, but it doesn't. Instead he looks expectantly, even hopefully at Charlie. He's in agreement with Rien, John doesn't look up to this, not one bit up to it.

    "She's unleashed it, anyone but me able to put it back if we find it?" Hell, maybe the answer wouldn't have been yes, because John sounds a whole lot like he's hoping someone else can send the soul of Jack the Ripper back to Hell. "She was marking them, the victim's homes."

    Ding, it's like a light goes on over his head, honest, see the lightbulb? "...we do need to go to one of the scenes, doesn't matter which. Whatever she's using to mark them, it'll still be there and..." Well, it sucks but, "... fastest way to find it is to make a mark..." Any volunteers there?

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Charlie continues to watch whatever tech show is going on in those goggles. "Mm." is all she says noncomittally there.

She does blink though at the question for volunteers to be marked as the next victim of whatever killer is going on. She lifts a hand and touches her finger to her nose. The classic and universal, Not It.

She will let one of the other heroes volunteer to play bait, her foster mom would be pissed if she did. Heck she may get a scolding for going to London to hunt Jack the Ripper as it is.

"Okay uh... she is staying in a crappy sublet in town still since she vanished, using an assumed name. Got that location.... also for some reason she has payments to a private eye... like six months ago."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe takes a breath, and she tilts her head back.

    "Not sure if I'll make a great mark, but I'm a heck of a Beacon." she states. Yes. Pun on her name. "I'll survive almost any attack made on me. I've had enough time to recharge from my last incident, and I'm the least experiened magi present. Other than my light staff I'm also not a particularly good fighter." that part's a bold faced lie.

    "IF something happens to me, you're all better suited to fight it. Except John, because as noted, he looks like balls." Phoebe states, scratching momentarily at her left arm.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    With a nod, Rien simply says, "It should probably be me. I've been training as a demon hunter since I was 5, and these" she holds up her hand in front of her and claws push out of her knuckles, glowing slightly blue with the enchantments laid on them "can cut through the protections of most supernatural creatures." She retracts the claws and the wounds they made tearing out through her skin heal themselves in seconds.

    Looking at the others, she adds "I also heal very fast, wounds like these" pointing at the murder pictures "won't even slow me down."

    She shrugs, "It's never fun playing the victim, but unless one of you is extremely powerful, I would likely be the one to survive, even if whatever it is gets through my protection."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan looks to the others when they volunteer to be the mark. No reason for her to say she'd do it when others were already stepping up. "I'll do what I can." the woman states. Then she's back to being quiet and seeing what the plan from there is.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan keeps her own counsel, perhaps eating up the contemplation from Morrigan. She doesn't bask in the manic energy that Charlie does. Just looks like a perfectly respectable Bengali young lady, but for John leaning heavily on her. His weight hasn't shifted her an inch except to turn a little into him so they can be more comfortably be positioned together.

"Almost." She doesn't do chiding with Phoebe, but leaves that trace of worry painted vocally in the air. "That." A nod after Morrigan speaks up is subdued.

John Constantine has posed:
    "Paul, I just need the address of the first victim, you go after Cain." It's true, John does look like balls; he's perking up a little but ...

    "I feel like balls too, Glow Worm, that's why it can't be you, or Meggan. I need your help, both of you." It's going to take more than he's got left in the tank to send that thing back and a little bright light never hurts when dealing with something as black as the soul of Jack the Ripper. "Morrigan, Rien, whichever one of you stands a better chance of spotting the thing before it attacks, that's the one I need unmarked. Setting up the spell's gonna take all my focus, every bit of it, so I need to know the second it shows in the room. Whoever does this? They have to last until the spell's done."

    So, it's Morrigan or Rien as bait it seems. Charlie's already tagged out of that bit and who can blame her really?

    The first victim lived in a small flat not too far from Paul's, about six blocks. Getting in's easy, the woman's husband hasn't even returned since finding her butchered in the kitchen. Anyone blame him?

    Meggan and Phoebe get a crash course in the spell he's about to cast, the words at least. No way he's going to try to channel any Phoebe glow tonight, no, he's relying on them both pulling on their own mystical power to aid in the casting.

    Circle's drawn, quick and dirty but still perfect because it's one he's used a lot.

    Last step is to find the marker, it takes but a moment, a silver coin tied by a single strand of hair of the first victim taped underneath a kitchen chair. John snaps that single strand of hair and holds the coin out in the palm of his hand. "Ladies?" Rien or Morrigan, who's it gonna be? "Need a piece of hair it seems."

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Charlie writes down the information for Paul on where the lady is holed up. Address. Assumed name. Burner phone. The works. With his wifi skills and the odds he is actually an earthbound former angel and all she doesn't bother sending it to his phone.

For a minute there she does think about volunteering to go with Paul, but decides not too. More to learn tagging on with the mystic group. They also probably have something that needs kicking.

"I have the search running Inspector, if she leaves before you get there I'll text you location." and no she doesn't ask for his phone number.

She follows everyone to the first scene, hands stuffed back in her hoodie pockets. She does leave the goggles on though. The crash course on the spell is watched very closely, also the circle drawing. At least this time Constantine isn't drawing the binding circles around her she figures.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    Rien shrugs, "I can fit into either role, I just know I've got a very good chance of surviving whatever this thing can throw at me." She looks to Morrigan, "Your call, I don't know what you can do, but I assume since you're here to help John, you have your own abilities. Mine just happen to be mostly combat oriented."


She watches as John draws the circle, nodding to herself as she recognizes it from her studies. Everything seems to be correct, even though he does look like hell.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe was going to protest, but when John uses the nickname instead of the generic Luv? Well. That's serious, isn't it? She breathes out, and gives a nod to him, in spite of the fact that she simply radiates happy and calm she looks very, very worried -- but she is a good learner. Her Latin pronunciation is great, and she murmurs it under her breath, marking time and syntax.

    She has also removed something from her messenger bag, turning it over in her hand, and then slipping it back in, looking to Meggan.

    "Thi is completely normal for him, isn't it?

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"You go ahead, Rien." Morrigan nods to that. She'd at least seen what Rien could do when she came to help out Hellboy, so there is that. She then looks to the others, "I think we're ready when others are." she states to that.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
John is clearly having a rotten day if he needs to ask for help for a mere circle.

He has an outright apocalyptic day to seek Meggan's involvement. That's a bit like jumpstarting a remote control car battery using a quartet of Block 1 SLSes. Or dropping the Tsar Bomba to take out a dandelion or ant farm. Pretty much the whole time is him probably trying to get her to thin out the ocean of magic into a thin line, so the spell isn't torn absolutely to pieces. And that is going to take a lot more time than he might like, short of having said spell obliterated by a toddler smashing it.

She'll apologise, but still, is what she is.

John Constantine has posed:
    "Morrigan, find a place with the best view of the circle and as much outside it as you can see. Charlie, stay the fuck out of the way."

    Yeah, that's not going to work. It's not the circle he needs help with truth be told, it's what comes after. So, Meggan's ToddlerMonster spell help doesn't really damage much. It's a good thing that hair's not tied up in a bow around a coin before he figures out his blunder.

    John flips the coin in the air in Rien's direction for her to take care of that bit before he pulls Meggan close for a kiss. Really? Now? Really John? It's a toe curling thing too, hard and passionate and deep. Wow John! ...but as always, there's a method to his madness. Meggan will feel it almost instantly for what it is. He could have done it differently, but where would be the fun in that? Give it to him, baby! Power that is... He'll take only what he needs and nothing that he doesn't. But she's absolutely correct, he is clearly having a *rotten* day because... how many times has he denied her very offers of the same in the past?

    When the kiss breaks, he brushes a thumb to her cheek gently, a little 'thank you and sorry' all in one. He *hated* doing that.

    "Rien, get in the circle, I won't be closing it until it's in there with you, so are sure about this?" His words are a little rasping, kinna husky sounding, little breathless. That KISS!

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
"I'll do my very best to stay out of the way and not end up in another pickle like last time..." she means it too, she does fish around under her hoodie exposing a bright yellow utility belt that looks very iconic. So does the bat-a-rang she palms into her hand really.

She drifts over to one of the walls with a good view of it all and leans once more watching closely. Heck she may be recording it all to watch later.

Yeah even the kiss, not like she planned that bit.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe readies herself, slipping her messenger bag to her back before she breathes out and turns to John -- only to see The Kiss.

    She straightens up a moment, as if perfectly scandalized, the high school senior's cheeks darkening a moment before she turns her gaze up and turns away embarrassedly and looks to study the circle. How very interesting! Such symbol! Wow!

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
    Rien deftly catches the coin, putting it in place under the table. She decides not to shield herself, not wanting the incoming entity to have any warning of what's waiting for it in this otherwise nondescript location. She sits down and pulls out her phone, starting to page through something online... Yep, she gets service here, it's handy being based in Europe.

The kiss gets a bit of a smile, but otherwise, she does her best to look like she belongs here and has no idea that some horrid killer demon or spirit is going to be coming for her blood.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan dips her head at John, "Sure thing, John." she states as she moves off to stand off to the side where she can get a good vantage point. Though the ginger does avert her gaze when John goes for Meggan. Not wanting to stare at someone's snogging when she's having a horrible time with any sort of dating and men. She looks at the ceiling, examining a crack before taking a chance to look back to things. Her shoulders relax and she readies herself for what might be soon to happen.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Detonation in 3. 2.

Tapping into the largely sealed energy source that looks presently unlike her usual blonde self isn't fun. Not usually. John's the sort of person to flip off a great duke of Hell though. Maybe he gets a kick from Austin Powers-ing it up and getting some kind of mojo back. The skillful bleed-off of magical energy sends motes dancing around Meggan's head. For a few moments she's not quite Whitechapel's most typical female individual. Pointed ears are a thing, too, midway through her being caught in a liplock and her hands poised at her sides like someone who might float off.

One.

"The city's mad about all this," she murmurs, like you do. "Expect Mama Thames to help keep you floating if you fall in."

John Constantine has posed:
    "I love you, now stay out of the way," is murmured softly to Meggan. First time he's publicly said those words, innit?

    "Ready kid?" Aimed at Phoebe. "Remember what I told you, picture your energy, your will, flowing out with the words."

    ...and the wait begins. It's not a long wait as wait's go, John's waited longer, way longer for these sorts of things. Half an hour, forty-five tops... and the room darkens without the lights themselves being dimmed. Shadows crawl over the walls darker than the fading light of the room. There's no cold spot though, things aren't always *that* cliche.

    He holds out a staying hand in Phoebe's direction, the pair of them standing across the room from the circle, not next to it - wait, wait for it, not yet.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Charlie spends the time watching the Inspector approach the lady who started all this.

That and revisiting the spell rundown and circling drawing. Theoritically she could help if everything goes very side ways.

Not that she hopes to even remotely have to do that.

When the shadows start to crawl and things gather, she shivers. Yeah she can feel it. Not just on one level but on many. Yuck....

She really doesn't like whatever these things are.