9476/A Blasphemous Plan

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A Blasphemous Plan
Date of Scene: 06 January 2022
Location: Lydia's apartment
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Lydia Dietrich, Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine




Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia has her spacious apartment nice and warmed up today, ready for visitors to arrive. She usually keeps the heat off since, well, she doesn't really feel the cold any more and it saves money on the heating bill. But, today she invited Zatanna and John over so they could help her plan out the superweapon she had conceived of.

She's dressed comfortably, with loose jeans and a pastel pink blouse that's ruffly around the edges. Her hair, however, is something of a mess and despite her unnatural beauty that being a vampire gives her, she looks rather frazzled.

She's got the kettle going on the stove, and a tea tray already laid out with cups, those little moo cups of creamer and sugar. Additionally, she has a spread of fig newtons ready for people to snack on when they arrive. Now all that's needed are her two guests.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
It was the last stage performance at Madison Square Gardens now that the evacuation efforts had started, a matinee. Resplendent in high heels, bustier covered in a short jacket, white bow tie and black fish net stockings, Zatanna pffts into existence towing John Constantine with her.

Just outside the apartment door, "Good thing you are along on this, you're good at this kind of thing," she observes, before turning to the door to knock. Steps can be heard, she says quickly, "Vampire, remember."

John Constantine has posed:
"What kind of thing? Building WMDs? Gadaffi had nothin' on me, luv."

John doesn't knock on the door. Rather, Synchronicity simply allows him to nudge it open and stroll in like he owns the place. He takes a look around as he walks, clicking his tongue.

"Not nearly enough skull and cobweb decor. And I can't even see a coffin anywhere. Are you sure you're a vampire, Lyds? This looks more like the home of a ... I don't know. A haunted liberal arts professor maybe? With tenure."

He makes straight for the bookshelf, looking for a copy of one of Lydia's books if he can find it.

"Any shagging in this one?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia looks rather surprised that her door was just open to let them in. Usually she's more careful than that. Fortunately, her sharp hearing let her know that they had arrived or else their sudden entrance would have startled her.

A good natured laugh escapes her at John's observations. "Well, I /am/ an undead English teacher," she says with a grin, "so that's fitting, I suppose. Come in and make yourselves at home. I've got the kettle on for tea. What kind do you like? I've got Oolong, English breakfast, green, and several herbal ones. I've got this really nice relaxing lavender one that I'm particularly fond of."

Lydia's apartment, as John has observed, looks like the home of a haunted liberal arts professor. The kitchen is neat and tidy, the dining area has a dining room table that had it's leaf pulled out to give it more surface area for all the books and maps that are piled on it, and the living room is more of a library than anything else. Bookshelves line the walls, leaving space only for a television and an antique roll up writing desk.

She looks over her shoulder to see John holding up one of the many copies of her books that she keeps around. "Lots of shagging in that one, yes, if you don't mind it all being lesbian."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna rolls her eyes and walks in behind John with a shrug, broadcasting she makes no more apologies for the man.

"Kind of you. English breakfast suits me really well. No more coffee jitters." She walks over to the table strewn with maps, "I like this apartment...do you even need a coffin, Lydia? Is this what you are looking to cover with the circle? Am I mistaken thinking this will be a ward? Or is it a weapon that will burn those angels's behinds if they try to pass it?"

"John there will never be enough smut for you. If you find any good parts, read them loud, why don't you?"

John Constantine has posed:
"Do you have anything with booze in it?" John asks, flipping through the book in his hands, "Not much of a tea man, despite all things. If not, I've come strapped for just such an occasion."

He uses his free hand to pat the flask hidden away in the inside pocket of his coat.

"What kind of red blooded male doesn't like some good, old fashioned lesbian erotica?"

He finds a particularly juicy section and begins to read to himself. He glances up at Zee and grins at her suggestion.

"Lots of heaving. Love a good heave."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Soon enough the kettle begins to whistle as it reaches boiling, and she pulls it off stove. "I have some bourbon left over, if that's to your liking," she tells John. "I used to make my own Manhattans to sip while I was still alive. I can make you one of those, instead, if you wish."

She leans against the counter as she waits for the water to cool a bit before pouring it into the teapot. "I had a couple of ideas," she says to Zee. "If you look at the bottom map, that was one for the protective circle that should keep the angels solidly /in/ Manhattan. Michael and some of the upper echelons might be able to break out of it, though."

"The one on top is... ambitious. Blasphemous really. I was doing some research in some of my Kabbalistic texts when I hit upon the idea of taking the Sepirot and... I guess kind of perverting is purpose so instead of taking the energies of divine creation and filtering them down to be usable by man, you can do that with the primal void. Given a big enough area to work with, with enough energy, we could take a large amount of void and... well... turn it into a weapon. A spiritual rail gun, if you will, powerful enough to take down Michael."

Once the tea has been properly seeped she brings the tea tray over to the dining room table. "Manhattan is home to some very powerful leylines that we can use to power these circles, but I doubt there's enough power to do /both/ of them, so we'll need to choose which one to persue."

She walks over to her bookshelves and scans her library until she finds a particularly well worn one and pulls out out. Handing it over to John she says, "This is one of my favorites. Lots of bodice ripping. With lesbians there's twice as much ripping."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Crossing your eyes is sometimes the only reasonable response to certain foolery. Zee sends John her best, compounded with a brief snort. "Is your blood red, I wonder."

Then she turns her attention to the maps while Lydia explains her strategies, focusing on the maps. One blood-red nail, traces the outline of Manhattan as she ponders.

"Let me say the obvious, one is passive, and one is offensive. Could we do both? Do we have the resources? I had the idea of putting up magical nets to catch incoming angels but don't let me start putting out too many ideas. I'll concentrate. At the moment, containing them may be a good strategy. What do you think John? Are you more for the blow them out of the air method?"

John Constantine has posed:
"Reddish," John says to Zee, with a broad grin on his face.

John practically tosses the book he's reading over his shoulder, gratefully taking what is offered by Lydia. He pulls his flask from his pocket, popping the cap and taking a swallow of whatever spirit lies within. He glances towards their host and shakes his head.

"Got my medicine right here, luv. Don't fret."

He ponders the suggestions for a moment before speaking without looking up from the bodice-ripping book: "I will say, blowing a hole in Michael would be satisfying, but without him there's still millions of the winged cunts flapping about. Put them all in a jar, chances are we can eventually put them somewhere they'll cause no harm. But I'm with Zee - do both if we can."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
With unnatural swiftness and dexterity, Lydia deftly catches the book before it hits the ground and moves to place it back into its slot in her library. "That's why I have you two over," she says, as she makes her way back to the table. Pouring herself a cup of tea she holds it in her hands to absorb the warmth, and she brings it up to her nose to inhale its fragrance. Her eyes close in pleasure and she makes a soft sound of pleasure.

"I'm too inexperienced to trust my own calculations, or really, even know how to begin with the details." She gestures to one of her journals that lay on the table. "I figure we can use that as the basis for the containment circle. It's the one I used to contain Michael. It took me two straight days to figure out and some fourth dimensional thinking, plus taking a crash course on chaos theory. We're lucky that it worked and not, you know, ended up ending the universe." She's silent for a moment as she takes a tiny sip of her tea. Just enough to taste. "More than it did," she mutters.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Not saying we are experts here," she mutters to the maps before she hikes an eyebrow at John, then kicks off her high heels.

"I'd love a cup of tea, milk please, no sugar."

Staring back down at the map, "What are we doing here? Imbuing the circle with intent? Laying it down fast enough is the next problem or do we stand in the middle and toss it? Intent works for me, by the way. I can't see writing incantations on X-number of miles around the island. What you did for Michael worked."

Another inscrutable look tossed John's way. "John generally handles the Chaos in the family. I can but it is like going from lifting 50 pounds to 150 pounds for me. Doable but I can't do a hundred reps."

"Tell me more about the 'rail gun, please. Did you receive the orichalcum from our Atlantean mage?"

John Constantine has posed:
John flops into a chair, the book still in hand. He flicks through the pages leisurely, occasionally peering up over the top of it at Zatanna and Lydia.

"One or the other's the safe bet," John answers, weighing in on his experience, "If you try both, you risk neither of them working. Obviously, there might be ways around that."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia pours Zee a cup of tea to her liking and slides it over to her. "I don't think we'll need to mark the whole of Manhattan," she says. "If we put the circle in the center... right about here," she says poking a finger on the map. Then we can demarcate the boundaries with a few fetishes that can resonate with the power we're imbuing into the circles. The orichalcum would be good for that." She nods over to a chest that's tucked under the coffee table. "I've got it stowed away over there."

"The railgun would need eleven circles total... here, I've marked them on the map." On the indicated map the circles start up in Harlem, make their way down through the center of the city with the final one being placed in Lower Manhattan. "I figure if designed correctly, if you power up the first one here, it should start a chain reaction and cascade to the end, over here." She looks at her design after a beat and says, "Once it's here you've got basically a beam of concentrated nothingness. All you'd need is a way to point it to where you want it to shoot and release it."

"The power required for this would be tremendous," she cautions. "We'd need to be able to tap into Manhattan's leylines. For the kind of power to take down Michael it would suck them dry for God knows how long." She shakes her head. "It's a long shot. A hail Mary, so to speak. It's... not something I propose without caution."

She nods at John. "That's my thinking too. The power requirements for both would be enough that one or the other might fail."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna's lips pucker and she whistles.

"Eleven circles. Merlin save me. Though," she taps her chin, thinking. "Maybe or maybe not. It's a question of the source. I think that we are only the channelers. The leylines have tremendous power," she looks at them both. "But chaos is unlimited, we only have to open the conduit and channel it. I am sure of it. It is building something that won't wipe us out along with Manhattan, is the trick. I think we could do that."

"I am working on an incantation that will augment Magic users fighting Michael and the host which likely won't affect this working - an augmentation spell of sorts."

John Constantine has posed:
"Well, shit," John mutters into the pages of the book, lifting it up to his face, "Birds actually like that? Oh, Chastity Goodchest - you've opened my eyes. 'Twas blind and now I see."

"I think that's the best bet. Lock the angels in a bottle, and then hit them with augmented strength. This rail gun ideas a corker, but it's too easy to miss. At least with a warding circle, the worst thing that happens is some of them get out. But it's bound to keep more than a few locked in."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
"Right," Lydia says, nodding to Zee. "The eleven circles are less about acquiring the primal chaos, and more about containing vast amounts of it, shaping it, and directing it at the enemy." She sits down at the table and takes one of the fig newtons to nibble on. Lord help her, she doesn't need to eat, but there were always a guilty pleasure for her.

She nods to John. "True. However, containment doesn't actively /help/ us against the angels. It just keeps the damage from spreading out to the rest of the city. This railgun idea..." she shakes her head, "If we get enough power into this thing it may be enough to get them to retreat. Buy us more time to figure out the real solution to this mess."

"But you're right. It's too easy to miss. We'll need some kind of way to get close enough to Michael and target him like.. like.." she flails a hand searching for a word. "You know those spotter people who shines a laser on a target for an incoming missile to hit? We'd need somebody to do that."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Shaking her head, Zee reaches for a Fig Newton, too. Then, bends over the table giving John a view that would be worthy of Ms. Goodchest. Munching on the cookie, she says, "We can do that magically, don't you think? Like a ward and an angel spotter. If he is close enough to see then he is too close for me. None of this, don't fire till you see the whites of their eyes business. We set wards high enough up then we can position firing by triangulating off his position, Besides we have to stop the other angels, too. I believe they may be more vulnerable than you think if something Atrun-Rae is producing works. We need to think larger."

She looks at them both expectantly. "We have to all agree. Besides who will be firing it? It won't be me."