7398/Cats And Curses

Cats And Curses
Date of Scene:	16 August 2021
Location:	809 - Karita's Apartment
Synopsis:	While helping a ghost out, Karita discovers a zippo that belongs to -- someone else -- and this is the resulting chaos with her boyfriend, Andy.
Cast of Characters:	Karita Landry, Andy Katsaros

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Karita Landry has posed:
THEN:

The dingy alley-way smells of stale alcohol and rotting food, worse there's the wafting presence of urine and things best not thought about. It was worse than walking past a fraternity on a Sunday morning, and Karita is not at all impressed with having to move any further into the darkness. Her eyes, green, sharp, intense, turn to gaze at the figure standing next to her. "Are you -sure- you saw it HERE?" The tone is less than pleased, as is the wrinkling of Karita's nose as another whiff of the alley hits her nostrils.

The figure next to Karita is a short, slightly overweight woman. Her mousey brown hair is cut short about her slightly chubby face. Her hands are wringing back and forth, up and down, constantly in motion, constantly moving. Not a sound echoes from the woman, the only answer is her head bobbing up and down causing the wisps of brown to bounce haphazardly about her features.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Karita's eyes close tightly. "Great." With a squaring of her shoulders, the petite blonde draws deeper into the shadows of the alley. The sandals on her feet offer slight *crunching* noises upon the ground as she steps on things that she really doesn't want to look down at. The squishing sensation that oozes about her toes is also something Karita does not wish to contemplate about. "The things I do..." She mutters under breath. "Okay. Where now? I mean you've got to be more specific..."

The figure moves silently next to Karita, almost gliding across the ground in a smooth, yet hurried motion. Her index finger rises upwards as an expression of pain echoes across her face and still - not a word gets out. Instead, she just motions with her finger, pointing towards the large dumpster behind the restaurant.

"Here kitty..kitty..kitty.." Afterall, what else can Karita do? She's a ghost whisperer not a cat whisperer. Making soft 'psts' 'psts' noises as well, Karita draws around the dumpster. Pulling her cell phone out, Kari uses the flashlight from the device to illuminate the area around. The beam of light shines outwards flashing a moment on eye shine, twin gold eyes that are big and frightened - followed by a scurrying of sound as the tiny creature ducks under the dumpster more. "No don't.. oh for the love of."

Quickly, Karita's form is on the ground, dropping to her belly to gaze underneath the dumpster. "C'mon kitten, neither you nor I wish to be in this hell hole any longer than we need." The scent of the garbage at this level is almost enough to cause Karita to gag, holding that in so not to scare the kitten any further, Karita continues to make soft 'psts' noises, her hand reaching under the dumpster, her arm pulled to its length until her fingertips press against something smooth, fingers wrapping about not a kitten but something else entirely.

In an instant Karita's not seeing a dingy alley-way, nor even smelling the rotting sandwiches piled inside the dumpster. She can't hear the kitten letting out soft hissing noises, nor the shifting of paper next to her. Instead, Karita's else where, else when. She's watching scenes that are not her own, memories that are not hers, events that have happened in the past. Her hand wraps tighter about the metallic object as the scenes play out before her, the good, the bad, the tragic, the terrifying. It's enough to illicit a loud gasp from the blonde, as the experience is so very real and so very much more intense than any other time flash she's ever had.

Finally it comes to an end and Karita's fingers pull loose the zippo trapped beneath the dumpster. With another gasp of sound, she draws herself into a sitting position on the ground, legs pulled beneath her now completely filthy skirt sorting them into a 'Yoga' style position.

In her fingers she holds the zippo, staring at the object with a vacant and mouth agaped expression. It's there that Karita sits for an undetermined amount of time, enough so the kitten has gotten bored with hiding and is now in Karita's lap, purring loudly at having been ignored and is now seeking attention. The ghostly figure, happy to see the kitten safe, disappears into the ether - its only concern was for the small kitten that had been hers and was now Karita's.

Finally, Karita stands upwards, collecting the kitten and the zippo as she moves, unsure what to make of this - but very sure she needs to find out who the hell this John Constantine is (or was), and what the Laughing Magician is....

Karita Landry has posed:
THAT WAS THEN THIS IS NOW:

In Karita's lovely little college dorm the quiet of the summer months just before the return of school is marked by the warmth of the sun, the stillness of the dormitory, and the occasional laughter from college students slowly filtering in. On this day, however, it is also marked by the slamming of the front door open, a wafting stench of hideousness, the yowling of a kitten, and a filthy, flustered and tired Karita stumbling through said doorway. In her arms is a crate filled with the mewling noise, as well as stocked on top and to one side is grocery bags full of food, litter, a litter pan, cat toys, a bed, bowls, and additional items in the bags like three entire huge boxes filled with sea salt.

The amount of items that Karita is carrying partially covers her entire frame as her slender form waddles into the dorm room and proceeds to set everything (except the kitten crate) onto the floor. Her next step is to hand said crate over to Andy, raise her finger to her lips and state, "Not. One. Word." As she moves towards the kitchen area, pulls out a glass jar and proceeds to dump as much salt as she can into the jar - followed by fitting a strange silver object into the jar, then closing the lid, AND THEN putting salt AROUND the jar itself.

The kitten, for the record, has stopped yelling and is instead gazing through the bars up at Andy. The small creature is a white and orange tabby with brightly hued orange stripes that run down its back. It couldn't be more than twelve weeks old and is now sticking its orange paw through the bars trying to reach out at the young man with a pitiful sound.

Andy Katsaros has posed:
Whereas some in the dormitory may be filtering in, laughing, chatting or what have you, one specific individual is currently in the midst of a very peaceful and quite refreshing nap. Andy Katsaros has claimed the couch of the makeshift living room in Karita's dorm apartment, his lanky frame streched out from one arm of the piece of furniture to the other, head propped up on some extra throw pillows at one and and his feet dangling out over the other. An oversized book lays open face-down on his chest, one hand keeping the object in place while the other has fallen alongside the front of the couch to rest on the floor, and the graduate student's head is turned just slightly from the plane of the rest of his body, a look of serene contentment on his features as only a late afternoon slumber can bring.

That is, until the front door slams open and jars the hapless student awake with a start, the book clattering to the ground and Andy's entire body jerking upwards like a pocketknife. "Whatthe--!?!" he blurts out, head swiveling as he gets his bearings, before dialtaed eyes focus on the overladen form of his roommate - or, should that be... room-mates? His mouth opens to ask what is clearly the first of an entire barrage of questions but he doesn't get the opportunity to fire off any of them before Karita issues her stern and no-nonsense warning, dropping off the crate and shuffling onwards to the kitchen. Stymied, Andy closes his mouth again into a pursed line, glancing between the frenzied form of Karita and the sympathetic visage of the little orange kitten before him.

There's no telling what Karita has gotten herself into, not without her explaining it herself anyways, and apparently that's not something she's going to do until she's ready to do so un-prompted. So, while he can make any number of guesses as to the salt-entrampment that's taking place in the kitchen, Andy decides to spend the bulk of his attention on the new arrival, who just so happens to be reaching his paw out and making the most heartfelt noises. "Well, she didn't say I couldn't speak to you," he murmurs to the little guy, reaching out with a finger to give the kitten's paw something to grab at. "You just visiting or are we going to have carve out a bedroom for you and start charging rent?" As he speaks, however, Andy's nose starts to wrinkle as the foul order that has accompanied Karita finally makes itself known to him. He blanches a bit, peeking into the orange kitten's crate at first, only to find the little guy innocent. "Phew, that isn't you is it? No, you look pretty clean... Well, I had to check," he defends himself against any protestations from the kitten, before he lifts his head up and sniffs a bit more, realizing that the stench is coming from Karita herself. Finally, he just can't hold out any longer. "Um. How about multiple words? Strung together to form questions? 'Cause, I've got lots..."

Karita Landry has posed:
The kitten, for his part, grabs hold of Andy's offered finger and proceeds to attempt to pull said finger into the crate so he can nibble at the offering. When this is either gifted, or denied, regardless, the kitten continues to let out little mewling noises, rubbing his back against the grating of the crate, occasionally batting any offering of fingers, and doing his best to be a kitten.

As for Karita, stench and all, she's staring at the jar of salt with the salt ring with an expression that can only be described as - in a word - terrified. It's as though the object is going to leap out from its salt encasing and grab hold of her. Her clothing, what remains of a once colorful skirt filled with a rainbow pattern, is coated in grime, slime, and things that are really beginning to waft outwards from her filling the room itself with the foul fetor.

Swallowing hard, Karita begins to pull off her shirt, shrugging out of her skirt as Andy speaks, and it's as though the young man isn't even there as now in under garments, Karita disappears into the depths of the bathroom, leaving the pile of clothing where she dropped it. She'll apologize later. Maybe. Perhaps. There's a chance at least.

The door locks, the shower turns on, and for a long time the only sound is the water in the next room and the soft mewling of the kitten, who is hungry - both for attention as well as food.

Andy Katsaros has posed:
Not that Andy isn't happy for any opportunity in which to see his room-mate shed her clothing, even partially, in front of him, but combined with the fact that not only does Karita not really acknowledge his presence after foisting off the kitten, but that she also smells like a dumpster from East 125th street, he doesn't even follow her towards the bathroom. The audible click of the lock supports his decision - whatever it is that's happened to her, she clearly needs to take some time to let it wash away, both literally and figuratively.

His attention still directed towards where Kari disappeared, Andy doesn't even notice at first the gentle tugging and pulling of his finger into the crate or how the little orange kitten has been doing its best to nibble on it before giving up and flopping on its back to gaze upwards as cute as can possibly be. The motion and the noises that accompany it elicit a smile from Andy, who wiggles his fingers through the crate's openings to play with the little guy a moment, musing aloud, "I hope she's okay, seems like *something* pretty bad happened. But.. whatever it was, guess it couldn't have been that horrible if she got you out of the deal. You don't seem so bad. Do you have a name yet?" And he continues that way for just a moment before extricating his fingers out of the crate. "Okay, okay, let's see what kind of food she got you..."

Rising upwards, the lanky student begins to move towards the sacks of supplies, though pauses at the heap of odorous clothing that remains on the kitchen floor. Staring down at the mess for a moment, he finally opts to gather up the pile, wadding it into a ball as he moves across the apartment towards Kari's bedroom and the hamper that she has in the corner of the room there. He's about to deposit the smelly bundle of clothes in with the rest of her laundry before he stops just a moment again, nose still wrinkling. He seems to study both laundry hamper and wad of clothing before a thick, mucus-like slime begins to ooze out of his hands to cover the pile of clothes he's holding onto - making the wad quite a bit heavier and no less messy, though the viscous substance does a remarkable job of sealing in the rather foul odors that still clung to the garments. "Well. That'll hold for a while, hopefully..." he remarks to himself before plopping the goopy lump of clothes in the hamper. He grabs a can of air freshener from the kitchen, gives a spritz to help disperse any other lingering odors and then proceeds to rifle through the kitten supplies to see what's available. "Litter box... litter... squeaky mouse... bird on a stick... jingly balls... fuzzy fish... Another squeaky mouse... " Andy glances up from the bag, addressing the kitten. "You told her that paper sacks and cardboard boxes would have been perfect, right?"

Karita Landry has posed:
The kitten has little to say in the matter, and is, instead, still attempting to be just as cute as possible, perhaps utilizing its I'm so adorable, you'll feed me now, charm to garner attention and food.

There is food in the groceries, mixed in with the jingle balls, as well as a couple different bowls for said food and water. At least until Karita can get the kitten a filtered watering station.

It takes a good half-hour before the door to the bathroom parts open and Karita steps out, hair bundled in a towel and her bathrobe wrapped about her form. With a deep breath, Karita moves towards the sofa and sits down, letting out a deep breath. Her gaze flickers to the kitten and how it's doing once, before turning towards Andy's location.

"First. Apologies. I had to clear my head before I could respond. Anyway. I encountered this ghost who was very worried about her kitten, it had gotten loose after she had died and she couldn't cross over without knowing it was going to be okay." Karita pulls her legs up to her chin, arms wrapped about her knees as she continues, robe shifting a little too and fro as she does so. "Ah, thanks for putting my clothes away. Anyway. It was last seen down this alleyway, you know the kind, where the homeless go to relieve themselves and restaurants use the dumpster, so everything has that fresh scent of urine mixed with rotting vegetables?" Karita inquires, still talking - hoping that Andy is listening, as she talks.

"So there I was, getting down on all fours and then my belly in order to collect the kitten out from under the dumpster when WHAMMO!" And Karita's hands gesture outwards in a big sweep as she practically yells out the word. "I mean. Seriously. WHAMMO. BAM. BOOM. I'm stuck in a psychometry vision. And this vision. Holy God. It's involving this guy, John Constantine, at least I think it's him, I /think/ so. Anyway. He's some kind of mage, or auhm. Demon hunter. Or he could be related to Dean Winchester for all I know. It's showing me its history. Right. The zippo's history. Like. That damned thing has been everywhere with this guy, and this guy - holy. God. Right. I mean. Seriously. Bat-shit fucked up mystical fire, flames, hell, demons, magic crap. Right?" And Karita's eyes are huge, even as she talks, her legs now once again planted on the floor as the kitten (who is probably now fed) leaps up onto the sofa, waddles down the seat and flops into Karita's lap, making biscuits as Karita just automatically begins stroking the orange-boy's fur.

Wrinkling her nose upwards, Karita suddenly realizes the kitten has managed to do exactly what it wants, thus she gazes down at it a moment, then shrugs. "Anyway. The zippo has John written on it, and something called the Laughing Magician. Which I have like, no idea. We need to do some research and find out what, or who, or whatever this place is." And finally, Karita does manage to get a breath in, as she points towards the jar filled with salt. "I think it's cursed."

Andy Katsaros has posed:
By the time that Karita is finished with her shower and emerges from the bathroom, Andy has already unloaded the bulk of the kitten supplies, filled the litter pan with fresh litter, set up a feeding station with both water and dry food, and has released the kitten from the confines of its crate to indeed offer it some of the aformentioned food. The little guy's tail is straight up in the air as it pads unevenly towards the food, but digs in with gusto as Karita begins to tell her tale of woe.

For his part, Andy leans back agains the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room as he listens to Karita's story, his own features going from confused and furrow brows to wide-eyed astonishment to a clear display of concern. He doesn't get the opportunity to interject much, though after the kitten leaps up into Karita's lap and she takes a brief break, the dark haired young man can't help but note, "You do realize that Dean Winchester is a fictional character, right?" He grins a bit then, though whether it's at his drolly delivered joke or the way in which the orange and white kitten has insinuated itself onto Karita's lap is hard to tell.

He waits a moment longer as Karita continues and finishes then, arms crossing over his chest as he remains leaning up against the doorjam. "Okay, let me see if I've caught everything," he starts out. "The item in the salt prison is a lighter, which you think belongs to some guy named John Constantine, who is some kind of demon hunter or sorcerer who's been involved in some really whacked out stuff." He glances towards the jar filled with salt, and encircled by salt, before looking back to Kari. "And now, despite the fact that the only thing you know about this man is that he seems to have been involved with demons and mystical fire and stuff that looks straight out of some version of Hell itself, and that he has a lighter that may possibly have some type of curse or hex on it, despite the fact that's all you know about him, you want to find out about this place called the Laughing Magician so you can... Give it back to him? Shouldn't we just take the salt prison over there and bury it in the graveyard at Trinity Church if it's all that bad?" Though he's had his skeptisicm before about things that go bump in the night, Andy seems quite ready to give Karita the benefit of the doubt regarding the bad mojo that she's encountered regarding this specific event. It's not the fact that the item might be cursed or belong to some sort of demon hunter (or demon!) that he's countering, it's the notion of willingly seeking out said owner of the cursed item alltogether.

Karita Landry has posed:
The kitten lets out a very big yawn, it's had quite the day! With that yawn he stumbles off of Karita's lap does a full circle six times, stretches, then flops down in the corner of the sofa, his sides heaving happily as it begins to snooze. Thus leaving Karita the ability to stand upwards, smooth out her robe, and give Andy an expression of initial skepticism. "I KNOW he's fictional, but this shit was NOT fictional." A pause. "And you never know. He could be real." Her eyes flash wide a moment, pondering the possiblity - before her mouth flits back down into a scowl.

Pacing to and fro, Karita's hands fling into the air. "I've touched the damn thing!" She announces with exhasperated bemoaning. "How do I know it hasn't cursed me, too now! Or .. or whatever that thing was that stole it from this Constantine individual isn't going to come LOOKING for it." With a gasp, Karita's hands clamp over her mouth as she dashes towards the dresser, yanks open the top drawer, pulls loose a large bit of sage, proceeds to light said sage, and go around the room blowing the smoke this way and that as she continues talking.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man. NO. We need to give this back to this guy, if he's alive and if not, we find his next of kin, and if not, we find this laughing magician thing and if it's a place, and if all else fails, we leave it there." Karita continues to fill the entire space with the sage's cleansing smoke, followed by her eyeing the door with trepidation. "So, like at the end, the very end of the vision, the most recent one. There was this... ah. Thing. Female. Thing. It stole some cigarettes from John, this lighter, and said, ah, something like, 'I'll be back'. Only in more scarier terms. Or maybe it was, 'You're the chosen one'. Or maybe that's Harry Potter." Karita's nose wrinkles upwards, "No, wait it was .. something about soon. Anyway. As much as I want to throw this thing back under the dumpster, it's A, important to this Constantine wizard, B, cursed. Totally cursed. C, I really don't want the monster to decide it wants it back, so D, we need to make sure the right person gets it back." And with that. Karita stares at the salt filled zippo, turning to point to the sleeping kitten. "And his name should totally be Zippo, cause it fits."

Andy Katsaros has posed:
It's a lot for Andy to take in, but there's little that he can do to protest against Karita's logic. Which, he's a bit loathe to admit, does make a certain sort of sense. The realization of such can be seen on his features, perhaps, the initial reticence etched there giving way to something much more akin to resignation. "Fine," he finally concedes. "Fine! We'll see what we can figure out and then give the thing back to this Constantinople guy." Andy pauses. "The lighter I mean, not the Thing. Or, the .. .female Thing." He shakes his head, gesturing with one hand. "That's not important. What is important is that I agree and I'll help you out as best I can. I bet one of the other grad students in the Comp. Religions track has heard of this Laughing Magician thing and can steer us in the right direction." Andy then follow's Karita's pointing finger, regarding the snoozing kitten with a lightly pursed mouth. "Uh-huh," he answers at first, not very convincingly. "That's the first thing I certainly think of when I see a sleeping kitten... A name like Zippy that conjures up images of a bundle of frenetic energy zooming about the room." His expression turns into a broad grin, hand reaching out to scritch the snoozing ball of fluff on the top of the head. "But... for this little guy, I think it's perfect. Zippo," he repeats the name in a more kitten-friendly tone, fingers dancing over the feline's scalp. "But just so you know," he adds with a big grin, "you're going to be the one responsible for keeping his litter box clean."