8307/Mairin shows John her babies

Mairin shows John her babies
Date of Scene:	18 October 2021
Location:	The Laughing Magician
Synopsis:	Mairin got the last bit of info she needed to make the magic-bots John wanted.
Cast of Characters:	John Constantine, Mairin Moran, Jonathan Sims

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John Constantine has posed:
    The Laughing Magician is currently closed and locked up tight. Something tried to kill Phoebe and the fact has them stretched a little thin. Chas is off sitting with the girl and John is no bartender, nor does he have time to be.

    His on his Pauper's Throne, however, with all his usual supplies... and then some. Books and notebooks and pens and colored pencils clash with things like vials of odd liquids, little baggies of dried ...whatever that is and a shrunken human skull for space in front of him.

    The Jukebox isn't playing, which is odd. Odder still is the fact that John's still bobbing his head as if hearing... music while rapidly flipping the pages of a small-ish book, bound in goat leather and filled with pictures of all manner of nasty demons.

    Odder STILL is that he's actually singing, 'Here Comes the Sun' by the Beatles. Wow. But his voice? It's actually pretty damned good, in fact it borders right on *impressive*. The earbuds in his ears might not be noticeable from a distance.

    Proceed with caution young Kitten, there is definitely something Not Right with the Laughing Magician and happy music does not always equate to Happy Man.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin slides into the Magician with her satchel full to bursting with books and some other kind of irregular, bulging objects. Together they make the bag look like its some kind of pulsating amoeba as she walks. She closes the door softly behind her, and walks slowly toward John, her eyes scanning the entire room as she does.

    Then she stops, and starts edging around in an attempt to come into his view as far away as possible. She knows better than to just rush up on someone while they're working. She knows she *hates* it.

    And, if she can't catch his attention visually, she'll resort to clearing her throat at progessively louder amplitudes until he notices her.

John Constantine has posed:
    Oh, John knew Mairin was there the *second* she came through the door. Not only did the wards tell him someone did, but the amulet told him *who* it was. Still, he's an asshole and he's cranky so he doesn't look up from what he's doing immediately. He waits until she's good and uncomfortable with her attempt to get his attention before he reaches up to tap one bud and ask, "What is it, kitten, I'm *busy*."

    But underneath that attitude, closer to the surface than it has been in a long long time, John's tired. It's something that can be seen in the dark circles around his eyes, the bloodshot nature of them that leaves almost more red than white in then and in just *them*. Those faded denim blues are just tired and haunted.

    He's also pale, hasn't shaved in a few days, his clothes look like he's slept in them more than once or that he hasn't slept at all and is just wearing the same ones as long as he's awake.

    ...is that the faintest line of white residue on the bar top and a straw next to it? It is, right next to the glass of scotch.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin just shakes her head a little and walks up the bar to sit next to him, bringing her bag up on the bar next to her with a *thump*. "I heard about..." She starts, but isn't sure how you console someone for something like that and just moves passed it. "I've been working on what you asked me to do." Her voice is serious. All business. Both because she has a feeling that's all John wants, and because co-worker is a lot more comfortable place for her to be than friend just by default.

    She pulls a few books out of her bag, some on robotics, one on magic, and then four irrugular metal objects. These she sets down next to where John is working. Not in his way, but for him to see.

    "I made these. They're a sort of modular robot system. I have a bunch of designs, but the idea is that you can put them together in different ways for different situations. This one..." She assembles the pieces into something quadropedal, "Could walk through a door for instance, or up some stairs. You weren't really clear with the design specs so I made something that would be versitile."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jonathan Sims comes out of the back room, dressed in a long-sleeved green tee that looks bulkier than it should, black jeans, sturdy boots. He's carrying a messenger bag and eating the last few bites of a sandwich. He's about to go over to the bar but stops on noticing Mairin there. Eyes the white line on the bar and then deliberately ignores /that/ for now and eyes the robots instead.

    "Clever," he says softly.

John Constantine has posed:
    John dropped the subject of 'I heard about' before it even became a possibility. He can't think about it, all he can think about is the next steps and making someone pay for it.

    "But... do they say the spell? Does the spell work?" John asks, his words clipped and short, because time is *short*. He closes the book he's paging through after marking his spot with a page torn from one of the notebooks. He lights a Silk to replace the one burned out in the ashtray, leaves it tucked between his lips and raises an eyebrow in Mairin's direction expectantly when he *finally* turns attention directly toward her.

    Well does it? DOES IT? That expression *demands* an immediate answer.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Well, that's the thing. I can record the spell into the bot. I can deign it so that it plays it back. I even found a spell to imbue it with life and give it simple commands. None of that is hard. WHat I don't know is if th spell will work played from a recording." She's leaned over, everything about her posture intense. "The bot doesn't have any Will to cast a spell. I don't see how a recording would work. There isn't anything behind the words." She pauses for breath. "But if the person using it knew the spell, I could set it to absorb the spell, carry it, and then cast it in another location."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "What's the difference between that and a recording?" Jon raises a brow, curiously. "Does magical information get lost the same way auditory or visual does? Would something lossless work?" He's... actually considering this with a slight frown on his face. Sighs, and mutters, "First thing on the list when we're done: get some proper magical training."

John Constantine has posed:
    John is so far beyond caring if lines on bars are noticed or not... he's so far beyond giving a fuck about it that while Mairin is going through her demonstration, explanations or whatever, he pulls a little case from his inside pocket, it's flat-ish like a cigar case might be, dulled tarnished silver etched with an ornate depiction of a devil in the traditional sense, horns an all that.

    It's mundane, not some long lost artifact or anything of that nature, John just liked it when he saw it. When he pops it open via the little button on the front, it contains a few little white baggies, an assortment of street pressed pills. It's one of the latter that he plucks from it and washes down with half a glass of scotch. It was pink, that little street pressed beauty, who knows what might have been in it.

    Once that's finished, he picks the little robot thing up and eyes it critically. "No, kitten, you give them your *own* will and then ... a trigger word."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin turns to Jon a bit. "A recording is just... occilating waves. There isn't any magical power in them. Not without the Will of the user behind them. It'd be like hearing music live, as opposed to hearing a bad recording."

    She turns back to John, smiles, and nods, excitedly. "Great. That I could do. I can make a sort of... Matrix in them to hold the spell once someone has said it. A matrix that can be set to collapse on a trigger, releasing the spell that it was holding. That, I can do. At least... I can with what you showed me the other day." She looks up at John, not really giving a rats ass what he's putting into himself. Who is she to judge. She just made a deal with a criminal. "Is this what you need?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon is frowning thoughtfully, mumbling something to himself about collapsing waveforms. Then he shakes himself and blinks at Mairin. "Oh, you're doing, what would it be called, technomancy? Impressive."

    He looks to John. "I think I'm ready to go. Any idea /where/ we're going yet?" He, too, is not judging the pills. He knows better at this point; that's a thing for other people to get on John's case about when this is done.

John Constantine has posed:
    "Yes, that's what I need," John replies. After a moment's thought he adds, "And make them... round, baseball sized." He doesn't give any explanation for the proposed change, he just reaches up and taps the left earbud to start his music playing again. He opens the book where he left off. His hands are shaking now and he's sweating just a little.

    ...his shuffling through books and jotted down notes and quickly scrawled drawings of circles takes on a frantic quality. "Yes... yesyesyes... Not Egyp..."

    Interrupted by that vague feeling he's being talked at again, he stops, and it takes a ton of effort to do so, and reaches up to tap a bud again. "What? To the *Village*," once the words that made it through those on-ear, rather than in-ear buds - think Galaxy Buds Live. His tone is all sorts of 'duh', as if that's all the answer needed.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin begins putting her things back in her bag. "How many and when do you need them?" she asks, in the brief span that John's ears aren't too full of sound to hear her.

    She has a giant triumphant smile on her face. Like she just aced her quantum physics final.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Arc stares at John for /just/ a moment, then nods and turns away to sort through his bag, murmuring, "I'll just assume it's in the desert and we've got everything." He's going to worry about things like water and basic first aid, even if there's magic involved.

    After a moment looking through his bag he looks up to give Mairin a smile and a double thumbs-up.

John Constantine has posed:
    "As many as you can and as soon as possible." Because vague, John's the king of it right now. He taps the bud again and goes back to where he was with whatever is he's doing. It takes him a moment to get it back on track, but one he does...

    He shoves himself to his feet, nearly trips over them in the process, or was that a moment of dizziness from standing too quickly? Either way, he recovers, turns toward the tiny stage, mutters a few words and the floor there shifts into a giant slate chalk board. A big old piece of chalk with one of those weird handle things and even a lid - looks like a giant lipstick - gets pulled from a pocket.

    Then he's just... lost in it. He's singing along with the music coming from his earbuds, this time it's 'Help is on its Way' by the Little River Band. But he's drawing and erasing with the sleeve of his trenchcoat to redraw, study it... fix it... move on to the next section... study, fix... draw... It's clear, that by the time he's finished, it's going to be a summoning circle; likely for a very specific demon and with a very specific purpose in mind after the summoning.

    Or it would be to anyone that knows jack or shit about magic.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin slows down in her packing up, watching him work. It's SO tempting to observe, to learn, but she shakes her head with a sigh and throws her bag over her shoulder. "Tell him I'll start working on them immediatly. He can come to Nettie's any time and pick up what I've managed to finish. I'll just store them there." She gives a wave and starts to go. She really doesn't think Nettie would want her here while John's doing... whatever it is he's doing."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods; he's gone to settle himself on a bar stool, pulling out a notebook and pencil. "Will do. Do me a favor and let Nettie know I'll be dropping by assuming I survive this whole business? I need to have a chat with her." More than a chat, possibly.

    Then he waves and starts writing in his notebook, frowning slightly to himself.

John Constantine has posed:
    When John finally brings two ends together in a complete circle, it's nothing short of amazing. It is a *perfect* circle, that is to say it looks like it was drawn using a compass or some such, not to say that it's *perfect*. It's not. And that's abundantly clear after he stands, walks the entire thing slowly and snarls, "What am I *missing*?!"

    Sleep, food... two obvious answers off the rip.

    "Nonono, that's not right, that doesn't go... That should..." He wanders to the other side of the thing and stoops to erase and fix...

    And so it will go right up until about ten minutes before he announces that it's time to leave with only the occasional stop to down some scotch, light another cigarette and the one time to do another line.

    Bad does not even begin to describe where this is heading.