Owner	Pose
Jonathan Sims	The Velvet Room /could/ just create a greenhouse for the Justice League Dark to use to grow their own tobacco. Ask one of the attendants, and tomorrow they'll find exactly what they need waiting in the garden, already built. But there's benefits to doing the work the hard way, one of which is that it makes it more /theirs/. If they're going to claim this castle, make it their own, then they should, perhaps, be doing some of the work of changing it to suit their needs rather than just asking the attendants to do everything for them.     Besides, it's a lot harder for capricious faeries to up and undo something they didn't make themselves.     So Jon's standing in the garden, wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The sun here on the Astral Plane actually isn't quite as good for countering Viscera's effects as the real sun, but it's helping nonetheless. He scratches at the back of his neck as he looks over the cleared area and the stack of wood and metal and glass set off to one side. That much he asked Lavenza for--the materials to build a greenhouse, and instructions. Then he waved her off, telling her he'd get some help from Chas.
Chas Chandler	Chas has been spending a -lot- of time in the library of the Velvet Room. Finding the various works he needs in the Library was a wash--for obvious good reason. But Chas has managed to track down copies of all those works of Lovecraft, Derleth, and the slew of other authors who took up the mythos after their death, himself. And the staff of the Velvet Room seem to not mind as long as he takes them with him when he departs. When he isn't pouring over the collections of his own private library--he goes for walks. Which is what brings him to the Garden this afternoon. He stops as he sees Jon and the constuction materials before the cleared patch of land.     "What's this about?" he asks his friend, stepping closer and surveying the materials. "Looks similar to a few of the plots outside my place in Greenwich." He is dressed in a tee and jeans. When you can create literal miniature suns in your hand the one millions of miles away doesn't seem all that hot even in the worst of conditions. "You planning on opening up a stall at the Troll Market for fae fruits? I mean, I've heard of worse ideas for what we have here."
Jonathan Sims	"Tobacco," Jon replies. "I'm still addicted, even if it's mostly psychological, and Rien smokes too. And the tobacco industry is shit, and I hate giving them money. So..." He waves a hand at the greenhouse. "Growing our own tobacco, and growing it specifically on the Astral Plane so it'll be magically resonant. There might be a market for it, I don't know, but /first/ we have to grow the stuff."     He shakes his head. "I had to practically quit cold turkey that first year in Hell, and it was bloody miserable. But some of what I got, in both Hell and in the Astral, was..." A pause. "I paid two dreams and a future favor to a Faerie Lord for a pouch of the finest tobacco I've ever had. You know I smoke menthols? This stuff was smoother than menthols, smoky and rich, and it gave such clarity of mind that every drag was like the first of the day. It was... magnificent." He sighs, a bit wistfully, then says in a more chipper tone of voice, "But! I'm hoping ours will be just as good, if not better."     He looks over at the angel. "Want to help me get the frame up?"
Chas Chandler	Chas looks back to the door of the castle as if considering it. He had hit a wall in his research, the stories of Nyarlathotep were varied and wild and true to the creature's monickers. He shrugs and lets out a breath. "Why the hell not" he says moving forward.     "Is the soil here really that good for growth of tobacco?" he asks. "I mean, shrubberies and nectar flowers are one thing but tobacco is altogether different, isn't it?" From the way he talked he might've dabbled in some horticulture. He did have a great deal of extra time these days, money isn't much of an issue (for reasons he is still trying to process) and that meant that he had the chance to look into a great deal of hobbies he's been meaning to look at.     Gardening is calming, and provides a direct measure of your skill with how well your crops grow. It is also a quiet hobby and lets him think.
Jonathan Sims	"It's really not all that bad," Jon replies. "Tobacco's fairly fickle to the weather, but we've got ways to deal with that. Magical ways." He grins at Chas. "Anyway, this is where we have, so this is where we're doing it, and we'll figure out the specifics of what we need to do in order to make it work." He takes a moment to look around the garden. "We're going to need a curing shed, too. Maybe over there?" He nods toward a fairly open area. "But that's for later. First we have to properly /grow/ the stuff."     He goes to grab one of the longer poles, and continues, "I'd actually considered growing some on my balcony--I grow a lot of my own herbs, and I'm starting to move into vegetables, and setting up irrigation--but I wouldn't be able to control the weather. And there isn't the Astral aspect. If this works out I might start growing vegetables and fruits here, too, though. For my own use if nothing else. I have very particular needs these days, in terms of food. The more of it that's magical, the more filling it will be."     He grins at Chas for a moment. "You don't even need the food, I suppose, hmm? How's that going, anyway? Discovering new flavors and all?"
Chas Chandler	Chas takes one of the other long boards and lifts it up with relative ease. "It's... coming along" he says. "I realized that part of my problem was expectations. I was expecting too much and overthinking it. If it just eat without thinking, the flavor seems to come through much more distinctly. It helps if there's a particularly strong taste involved as well, for all the shit I give Rien, French and Italian cuisine seem to hit pretty well."     "Had my first flavorful cup of tea the other day, so that's back on the menu if I want it" he replies with a smile. "But you're right. I don't even need it anymore. Most of what is here... is just pure cosmic essense, in a constant stream from the Source."     He ensures the corner post is in place before moving to another. He's quiet for a time, focusing on the work. Then apropro of nothing he remarks, "While you were gone, me and Asa broke up."
Jonathan Sims	"I go away for /ten years/..." Jon says it with a smirk, but there's compassion in his gaze. He gets the post set in the hole already made in the ground and then sighs. "I'm sorry to hear that. I really am. But I'm... honestly not entirely surprised."     He considers this for a moment as he goes to get the fourth corner post. "What happened, exactly? Did you have a fight or anything, or just... drift apart?" He quirks a brow over toward Chas.
Chas Chandler	Chas moves to the next, settling his post in the hole made and rubs his hands together. "We're a little too different. She's very reclusive, content to stay at the complex and work on her art while I want to be out there... doing things. She wanted me to be something I couldn't be." He smirks sadly. "Story of my life with women, right? I go after the one that wants a home body and I am nothing ot the sort."     He shrugs. "I'm not too surprised either, to be honest. Maybe it's ingrained prejudices of what I am, but what she is and what I am are not entirely compatible. Too much alike at the fundamental level. Water and water. Nothing to gain from the relationship, nothing to grow out of it." He looks at Jon. "Does that make sense?"
Jonathan Sims	"I suppose it does," Jon says slowly. "Though you're contradicting yourself, saying you're too dissimilar to but too alike. I... well... if you want my view?"     He stops before going to pick up the next post, one that's supposed to go between the corners. "I think--and I'm no relationship therapist, so take this with a grain of salt. But. I /think/ you have a problem with--you compartmentalize your life a bit too much. You find women you like, without making sure they... get along with your friends." A beat. "Not that--Asariel was perfectly nice to me, and Renee's issues with John were well-fucking-founded. But then you... spend more time with people that your girlfriends don't know well, and don't make sure to mesh the social circles, and..."     They sigh, and shake their head. "I suppose what I mean is--no man is an island, right? Not that you have to go after someone who's already friends with your friends--but if your potential romantic partner isn't meshing with your friends, then maybe one or the other needs to change."
Chas Chandler	Chas considers Jon for a moment, sliding the next post into place with a stead drop of the material. It's not strenuous work, it wouldn't even have been for him without world shattering strength, but it's steady and it's -making- something. It feels good. "Yeah. I hear you" he chuckles. "It's probably for the best in the end, because as much as I cared about her... she wasn't a fit for the group. Just not in her makeup, you know? And I'm one of the bloody leaders now so that would've gone over well, right?"     He shrugs a shoulder again. "I was pretty upset when it happened but I'm over it now. Feels more... I don't know, free? Less tied to what is without so I can focus on what is within." He makes a circular motion, to indicate the Velvet Room and by extension the JLD.     The initial frame is in place so he looks to the pile. "What's next?" he asks, sounding enthusiastic about the process.
Jonathan Sims	With all the vertical poles in place, Jon goes to grab a longer pole from the pile, with holes at regular intervals along its length. "This is meant to go over the top," he says, and casually summons up his wings. "Help me get it in place? One all the poles are situated, we'll see about screwing them in to hold them in place."     As they pick up the horizontal crossbar together, Jon says, "How are your studies going? I know you were having trouble with the Tao Te Ching. Wu wei can be a difficult concept when you're used to the idea that all things require effort."
Chas Chandler	"It's... slow but I'm coming around to understanding that sometimes just letting things happen is the best way of going about life" he says his own silvery wings materializing with little in the way of fanfare. "You start thinking every act is a struggle and eventually you're alone because you took the struggle into interpersonal relationships just as much as a battle... that's not... that's not living."     He doesn't have to do much in the way of flying, given his already impressive height but he does have to go up to help balance the beam with Jon. Settling the beam into place is a simple idea. "It's also been part of what's freeing to me. Understanding that not everything is a struggle..." he makes a sour face and grumbles. "Except dealing with differeing ideas from a bunch of racist arseholes who all have different ideas of what is scary or not." He shakes his head and looks at his friend. "Sorry... been wrestling with 'the Mythos'" he doesn't make the air quotes but his tone implies them, "for the past few days. It's grating."
Jonathan Sims	Jon smiles. "Wu wei applies to all areas of life. I wouldn't say that struggle will necessarily leave one alone--plenty of people struggle, and are not alone. But the idea is more complex than even just 'letting things happen.' The idea is that whatever you do should flow naturally from all that you are, that any action you /do/ take should be effortless."     He helps settle the beam in place, then goes to make sure each piece is fitted correctly. "Mastery of a skill is, quite often, knowing as much about when /not/ to use the skill as when to do so. A novice thinks that complex must necessarily be better; a master knows the beauty in simplicity. So it is with magic--which is why we're building this greenhouse ourselves rather than simply summoning it out of nothing, in case you were wondering. Hold that there?"     He goes to get the bolts, and continues, "I would say, in terms of the Mythos--you're aware of the problems in how it was presented to the world. But the men who wrote those stories are all dead. You can't very well argue with them now. Some day, plenty of what we think is morally right and good may be seen as backwards and terrible. Such is life. The question, then, becomes--is there any value to the stories, artistically or otherwise?"     He glances at Chas. "I would say that, yes, there very much is, given what we're facing. But even more generally--they /were/ tapping into something deep within the human psyche. Racism persists for a reason; merely denouncing it as 'bad' ignores the reasons it exists. Tribalism is inherent to the human condition. Recognizing that /everyone/ has prejudices, that people are people, and attending to your own internal biases is a good first step. Attending to the plank in your own eye first, as it were." Trust Jon to use Chas' own religion to make a point.     "Artistically, that means that one should perhaps look to people of color to re-envision cosmic horror. But practically--we are quite literally dealing with the Crawling Chaos just now. Discovering whatever we can about him is useful."
Chas Chandler	As Jon works and lectures, Chas' expression is contemplative. When the Archivist finishes he shakes his head. "You misunderstand my frustrations" he says. "It's not that the racism is terrible. It didn't age well, I get that--and I agree with your assessment of how to fix it--but no. What's difficult is trying to decipher which tales are legend and which are extrapolations of what was already revealed. And thus written from whole cloth from the mind of the author."     He shakes his head. "This thing... this God of One Thousand Faces... is likely the worst of the bunch we could get a read on because of what he represents. Absolute chaos. Consistency is anathema to him. It's like... Terry, Vorpal, but if he was maliciously antagonistic and able to warp and twist reality by breathing." He gestures to the door to the castle. "I have twenty stories spread out about the Dark Pharaoh and for all I know they all might be true because of how this thing acts and what it does. How do you filter that?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon shrugs. "Compare it to what's going on now. Find other sources. Non-mortal sources. I met someone today who's, ahh... evidently she's been around for a /long/, long time? Sort of a contemporary of the New Gods? Not literally a god, but--look, it's complicated, and I don't entirely understand it myself, but the point is--she says she has /personal/ experience with what we're fighting. So maybe, you bring her in and she can tell you what matches her experience."     He smiles. "See? Far less difficult than you thought."     He's tightening bolts as he speaks, focused on the work despite what he's saying. "Maybe they all turn out to be true, but then--maybe we turn that over to Detective Chimp to look for patterns. Maybe someone else notices something from an offhand comment. But if you're wholly focused on how annoyed you are by it all, you'll never see that."     They step back, to test the soundness of the joins, and then look to Chas before going to get the next pole. "Do you think it's really the stories you're struggling with?" He raises a brow.
Chas Chandler	Chas thinks about it for a moment. "I'm frustrated that we're playing a waiting game..." he says finally. "We have to sit and wait for them to come pick our friends off one by one. It's like a seige where every gate is open and a sign outside that says: 'Come on in, destroy my psyche!'" He shakes his head. "I hate it. And the only thing I can do is research and hope to stumble on something worthwhile. They've gotten bolder, Jon. Don't you see? They're advancing their methods and we're still standing here, holding our bollocks, and waiting for the kick to come..."     He moves a bit away from the structure and frowns before letting out a sigh. "I just... I want to be on the offensive. Take the fight to them, but we don't even know where to aim." He frowns. "Speaking of... why do you have me helping you build a garden instead of, you know... teaching me what I need to know to fight the eldritch horrors on our doorstep?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon smirks at Chas. "Because we're not going to win this fight by having bigger guns than they are." A pause. "Because you don't win /any/ fight merely by having bigger guns. The best way to win a war is never to fight it at all. If you /must/ fight, then you want to pick the battlefield, outnumber your opponent at least two to one--preferably ten to one--and know both them and youself inside and out."     What does that have to do with gardening? He... doesn't say.     Instead, he gestures to the next pole and goes to pick up his end of it. "Tell me this. What do you think happens, if we just go on the offensive, right now?"
Chas Chandler	Chas moves to pick up his end with a flat expression. He knows the answer. That doesn't mean he likes it. "We get obliterated... because we don't know enough and they have our number..." he says, lifting the pole. "I know we need to gather more info. I just... you know me... old habits..."     He sighs, and entirely dramatic gesture and moves with Jon to set it in place. "You didn't answer my question... what -does- this have to to do with the current situation?" he asks again, a bit more mildly this time.
Jonathan Sims	Jon flies on up to set the second pole in place. "No, I didn't," he says. And then, infuriatingly, doesn't actually answer the question.     With the pole in place, Jon goes over to grab up bolts and start fitting them in place. "You look at what the Fears are doing and see them getting bolder. You know what I see? Desperation." He smirks. "They have time travel on their side, they got the drop on us--and what do they have to show for it? We rescued Rien, the Not-Rien's in hiding, I've wrested one of the Fears from their master entirely. Gabby and Cael both told them to fuck off in no uncertain terms. Lydia fell to their influence, yes--but we're on top of that already. And anyone /else/ they go after is forewarned. We can nip problems in the bud, or cut people out so they don't discover secrets."     He shakes his head. "So now... one of these things comes at Mercy at her garage. And now we know it's after us. They've lost a certain element of surprise." A pause. "Don't get me wrong--I'm taking this seriously. But I'm also gathering information. All of this, /all of this/, is being done out of desperation. 'Narly' is afraid of /us/, and pulling out all the stops to keep us from stopping his plans. He's trying to distract us from what's really important--whatever's in the castle that he wants, and the wellspring. The rest of this?" He waves a hand in front of his face. "Smoke and mirrors."
Chas Chandler	Chas' expression is flat until Jon drops the nickname for the Crawling Chaos and he almost loses his grip on the pole he's holding in place. "What... where the hell did you pick that name up?" he asks, making sure the pole is back in place so as not to lose it. "I mean, I'm as much for taking away the fear these things create as the next but that's... horrific..." he says with a small smirk.     He moves on regardless. "So what we keep cutting off their avenues and eventually they'll get sloppy, is that the play you're going for?" he asks. "Force them to come at us where we're strongest and we bottleneck them one by one?"     He arches a brow, considering it. "That... that just might work, now that I think about it. It's a hell of a lot better than waiting form them to gnaw apart our edges. That's for damn sure."
Jonathan Sims	"I mean, that's actually a good plan, but it wasn't my intention at all," Jon replies with a shrug. "It doesn't answer the question of what they want. Chas, listen to me. This business with the Fears coming at our dreams? It's a /feint/, and you're falling for it. Whatever they're actually after in the castle isn't anything we know about yet. But even that is just a stepping stone to their real goal."     He gestures out toward the clouds beyond the wall of the garden. "Out there? /That's/ what Narly is really after." Yep, he's doubling down on the nickname. "It's funny, every time I mention that the Crawling Chaos is trying to poison the dreams of mortals, people mostly kind of ignore it and move on. Which is fair--there's a lot right here in front of our noses. But it's also what they're counting on. That we'll get so bogged down in the fog of war that we lose sight of the wider goal."     They shake their head, finishing up the final bolt and shaking the frame to test its integrity. "No. The plan is, first, we deal with Lydia, because she /is/ a clear and present danger. Then we find out what it is they want in the castle, and brace ourselves for attack. Because they /will/ attack us. I would rather have avoided these fights altogether but we don't have much choice now. We secure our base--which probably means sealing the Fears away from attacking us--and then we go out there," they stab a finger toward the Astral sky, "and cut off the forces of the Old Gods before they can reach the Font of Inspiration."     He eyes Chas. "You're overlooking an important question, though. And it's tied to the reason we're building this greenhouse right now." A beat. "Hasn't it occurred to you to ask how I can possibly be so confident in what Nyarlathotep's doing?" He speaks the name quite deliberately.
Chas Chandler	Chas looks out to the horizon. "Okay..." he says, slowly. "How -can- you be so confident?" he asks. "What makes you think you can know what something this unpredictable truly wants?" he asks. His eyes track out to the horizon, to the Well of Inspiration that Jon's mentioned a few times now. Could such a place truly exist? He might've seen it had he been looking through the astral during his time on the Gate of Heaven.     "I want to believe you know how to win this one, like you did with the Angels..." he says looking back to his friend, "but this is something altogether different from what Michael had in mind. He had a goal, an adversary, we had the help of insider information. With this... we've got some stories from a man driven insane and a bunch of fae who won't tell us shite because we have to discover it ourselves."
Jonathan Sims	"Because it's what I'd do, if I were him," Jon says quite simply.     He just lets that sit there for a moment.     "These things... they aren't as alien as we like to pretend. 'Narly' has a goal--poisoning the Font of Inspiration. He has an adversary--us. We have inside information." He taps at one eye. "What I gleaned from the Watcher. What Lydia might tell us, if we can bring her back sane. But the Old Gods are part of the universe. Evidently, they always have been. So I've been trying to figure out how he'd think. What he'd do."
Chas Chandler	Chas looks Jon for a long moment with an unreadable expression. "You telling me you're thinking like an Old God while you've got the power of one in your head--or the echo of the power of one or... whatever the hell you did... might not be the best, look. Just saying." He sighs. "Alright, mate. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt on this. On one condition."     He checks to make sure his post is set and then fixes the Archivist with a direct look. "You tell me what the hell this has to do with magical theory or I swear to God I will smite you off this fuckin' island right here and now." He's smiling to show that it's mostly for show, but his curiosity is definitely real.
Jonathan Sims	"You know, I am the /one/ person around here that's actually proven he /can/ handle direct contact with one of these things," Jon says in a slightly offhand tone. "I absolutely believe in the rest of you and your ability to stand up to the Old Ones, but given the track record between you and me on the subject of 'very powerful entities in our heads' I would /hope/ you'd give me the benefit of the doubt. Given that I've now resisted Michael /and/ a minion of Nyarlathotep trying to take control of me." He levels a /very/ direct gaze at Chas. "And given that you're the one who came to /me/ for teaching, a little faith might be in order? A modicum of respect?" He shakes his head. "Travel Nine Circles of Hell and whole swathes of the Astral, come home to nothing but disrespect. The gall. The utter /cheek/." He smirks, and shakes his head.     Then a sigh. "But I already answered the question, Chas. You're just not looking at things the right way. 'Narly' and his group--they're isfet. Chaos, entropy, evil--call it what you will, but ma'at cannot exist without isfet. The /definition/ of ma'at is that it overcomes isfet. Ma'at is a verb as much as anything else. It is a goal, a thing to be achieved. I do not seek to /eradicate/ the Old Gods. They cannot be eradicated, at least not by us. I seek to defeat them, subdue them, keep them in the place that has been set out for them."     They place a hand on one of the posts. "A garden is order, but it is not a brittle order that seeks perfection. It has rhythms, it flows, it changes. A garden is in constant need of upkeep, of work. There's always work to be done--watering plants, pulling weeds, tending plants damaged by disease or weather or pests. Some of that work, like the weed-pulling, is destructive, yes, but it is /all/ in service of creation. Of life. Of harmony."     He looks to Chas. "We're /building/ something, Chas. Right now, we're building something. Together. This greenhouse, the Justice League Dark--I think we make a mistake when we tell people we exist to /fight/ supernatural threats. I mean, we do, but I think that's the wrong way to look at the matter. I think it encourages people to see their worth in terms of fighting. How often has anything we faced been dealt with merely by going out and kicking some ass?" He shakes his head. "We study. We learn. We grow. Some threats, we don't even fight. Sometimes the answer isn't about violence at all. Violence for us should be like pulling weeds. Targeted. Precise."     They lift their brows. "What you need to fight the eldritch horrors--it's in here." He touches the center of his chest, a bit to the left. "All else flows from that. Without strength of heart, of will, we will falter. Like Lydia did."     A pause. Then, "Remember why I said we're building this by hand, and not just summoning it out of nothing?"
Chas Chandler	Chas holds up his hands as Jon shoots back his barbed retort about track records and ancient beings. "Alright. Alright! I get it. You're stronger willed and better at handling the deeper cosmic entities than I." He shakes his head. "Hell really sobered your humor a bit didn't it?" he asks, still smirking. The banter was fun. It was natural for them.     He listens to the deeper meanings of lay between the JLD, the Old Gods, and everything else. How it all works together to create a harmony. "I agree. We don't fight them so much as... contain? Protect reality?" He shrugs. "We can workshop our pitch another time."     At the final question he considers it and nods. "I remember. So it's more ours. More real. More significant. SO it has meaning to us. Just as the group has meaning to us. It's a part of who we are now, more than the castle, more than the name. This garden. It's -ours-. Yeah?"
Jonathan Sims	"Partly that, yes," Jon says. "But also... well..."     He focuses for a moment, on a cleared area nearby, and the stuff of the Astral... warps. Changes. Suddenly, there is a greenhouse there, perfect in every detail. "See? I could just--do that. Poof. Greenhouse." A pause. "But that's a shortcut. And it might disappear the moment I'm not focusing on it anymore. It won't stick around if I have to move on from the JLD. It takes a bit of my attention--just a bit, but over time, that adds up. And then it was only /me/ doing it. Not /us/."     Another moment of focus, and the other greenhouse disappears, replaced with the grassy meadow that was there before. "Part of mastering a skill is knowing when to use that skill, and when it's best to use another. The novice carpenter looks at every problem and thinks to use a hammer and nails. The master knows that some projects require different kinds of construction--and that some things aren't in the realm of carpentry at all. So it is with magic. So it is with battle."     He sighs. "Chas, destruction is /easy/. It's the natural flow of the universe, to go toward entropy. You have a /lot/ of power, and I'm trying to teach you when to use it, how to use it, and when to rely on something else."     He leans against the pole next to him. "Remember what Michael's mistake was? The reason we had to kill him and have him be re-born? Who do you think it serves, for you to be so focused on power, and fighting? Not our cause."
Chas Chandler	Chas purses his lips. Considering all that Jon put forth with that lesson and then he looks at the greenhouse. Or the frame of the one they're making. "You've got a point..." he says. "So... control and when to use the other tools at my disposal. When to... create rather than erase?" he says.     He's toyed with creation a few times. Dabbled in it. More than basic energy. Creating the atoms that drive the universe, hydrogen, helium, those are simple. But creating a living thing? There's a plant in his house that he created. He doesn't have a name for it and he's certain he's never seen anything like it but he created it and he's proud of it and he's taking care of it, but it was so draining to do.     He nods. "I can get behind that. So this..." he taps his post. "Is an exercise in utilizing skills that don't rely on power or fighting. Strength, sure. Diligence, absolutely. But... it's about making something with what we are, rather than what we can do."
Jonathan Sims	Jon smiles. "Precisely. I can lecture you about this stuff for hours and it'll never sink in unless you do it yourself. Discipline, focus--that's nothing you learn from a book, or in a classroom. That takes time and effort. And... I thought maybe I'd remind you what you /are/. Angels are the handymen of the universe, right? Even those of you that are soldiers--you're meant to protect and defend, not burn and pillage. You're meant to /build/ things."     He glances toward the pile. "C'mon," he says. "Let's start getting the glass panes on this. Shouldn't take too much more if we work at it."