Scene #8933: Path of Glory: So Let it be Written

Owner	Pose
Chas Chandler	Chas emerges from the back room of the Laughing Magician back into the bar. The arrival of Sara and Lasariel had been unexpected and abrupt and startled him into ushering the minimal crowd out of the bar. He was only half happy for the excuse--to die-hard regulars didn't really amount to actual business, they only came for the chess set he kept under the bar. He had led both women up to his apartment, taking Lasariel from Sara as soon as he was allowed and settled one in the guest room (with assurances that she could come down as soon as she felt able) while letting the other take some time to calm down and get her suit of armor under control, as well as waiting for a change of clothes from her partner (who he was assured was bound to arrive shortly.) No explanations had been given, and Chas wasn't exactly sure what questions to ask. So when the others arrive, he is behind the bar looking troubled and concerned, in all fairness he looks downright haunted. The atmosphere of the area is likely taking its toll on him finally. Regardless of how steadfast he appears on the outside, enough pressure could wear down the largest stone.
Phoebe Beacon	The adopted daughter knows a little about pressure. She ahd to do a report and send information to the Outsiders computer, but she comes down after shedding her outer skin. It always itched after she got out of her armor, especially now over the left shoulder where all that scarring was. She was still braiding her hair, damp, wearing a light sweatshirt over a Diet Coke tee, in familiar old jeans as she comes into the bar, looking to the end of it out of habit, and then looks to Chas, and she climbs onto a stool. "... how are they?" she asks quietly.
Cael Becker	It doesn't take Cael all that long to arrive - with Jon sitting tandem on the motorcycle with her, and both of them helmeted. She pulls up out front, staring at the facade and remarking, "I still can't see the fuckin' door," she mutters. "You're going to have to show me the way in. You sure you're alright? We could drop off Sara's clothes, and I could get you to an urgent care or something?" she suggests, unclipping the helmet as she turns to look at Jon. Getting off the bike, she starts pulling out a spare set of clothes for Sara - all the clothes used, but in good repair, and none of it designer. Sara knows how to get a bargain at a thrift store...
Jonathan Sims	Jon's a little windswept from being on the bike, but his expression is serious. The giddy excitement he normally feels at such things is dampened beneath an odd feeling, something he's /never/ really felt, but that is growing in his mind, a kind of conviction about the matters going on in Hell's Kitchen, and what he's meant to do about them. It's a little disconcerting, truth be told. "You have to believe in the door, evidently," he tells Cael. "I didn't even know it was hidden." He heads down toward the basement door. "As for me, I told you, I'm /fine/, physically. The statement was... a /lot/. The woman saw an angel, and I experienced that firsthand. What she went through? I /felt/ it, every bit of it, but it didn't affect my body. What I need is a therapist, and I'm working on that." He sighs as he puts his hand on the door handle and smiles. "Thank you for the concern, Becker. Right now what I need is a cigarette, and then..." A pause. "Let me put it this way--this is /my/ case now, at least on a metaphysical level. A thing which I'll be glad to explain to you and Pezzini inside." He opens the door to let them both in.
Chas Chandler	Chas looks at his daughter and nods. "They'll be okay. Just... shaken..." He frowns at Phoebe and asks. "What did you guys run into out there? I've seen Las after one of her visions... this was... worse..." He frowns. "And Detective Pezzini... armor? Is that just somehting she can do?" He moves to the glasses and gets himself a tall glass of amber ale. For Phoebe he mixes up a mocktail. Something that has all the hallmarks of a stiff drink, without the stiffness. "What are we going to do Little Lighthouse? I mean... we're in the crossfire here, aren't we?" he asks. "Eventually, it's going to be on our doorstep... it could be you or me or any one of our allies... what are we up against?" he asks, looking up as Jon opens the door to the bar.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebs accepts the mocktail from Chas. She knows he's worried. He doesn't need to deal with the side stuff now, and she tilts her head back, closing her eyes. "Enochian, crosses, ghosts tethered with magical chains that the detective's weird Guyver armor can break, I would think some mad angel maybe. Something that's tired of waiting for the end of the world to mette out punishment to sinners?" she questions, distant, lost in thought. She reaches up to scratch at her chest, right under the neckline of her T-shirt, as if something was irritating the skin. "... you... /do/ know that alcohol doesn't affect me, right?" she asks, her eyebrows rising with a slight uptick of her lips.
Cael Becker	"Shit, Sims..." Cael murmurs under her breath, her form stilling for a moment as she simply stares at him. He'd felt that? Fuck. "Yeah, bloody hell, get a therapist," she agrees. "And in the meantime, drinks are on me, huh?" she remarks, following him into the bar - the small bundle of clothes in one hand. She glances around to search for Sara, then looks to the man behind the bar. "You seen the Witchblade?" she asks. "I thought she was coming here..." Without really waiting for a reply, she pulls out a credit card, sliding it across the bar to add, "I'll have a beer, and whatever Sims here wants."
Jonathan Sims	"I'm not drinking," Jon says to Cael as he walks in. "There's work to be done." He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his spiderweb Zippo lighter, clicks the top open and shut a couple times before he finally lights the cigarette. He's frowning, thoughtfully, going over things in his head. Everything Phoebe said--Enochian, crosses, ghosts tethered with magical chains. "It was an angel, definitely. I don't know how, but it's an angel that's been killing people, I'm /fairly/ certain. I need to see the other crime scenes first." He settles himself at the bar. "Can I get a Coke, Chas? And... how /are/ they? The, ahh... Witchblade and the other woman, the one with the white hair?"
Asariel	Lasariel hadn't been to the Laughing Magician before so this was a new experience, but she manages to find the bathroom and splash cold water on her face to try to take a bit of the shock out of the night. Maybe alcohol would work better than that? She makes sure that she doesn't look like a completely crazy person and finds her way down the stairs and ends up where Chas had came out at. She gives a look at the people at the bar with her vivid gaze and then looks at Chas' back before heading his way. She reaches out an alabastrine hand to touch his shoulder softly, "Hello handsome." she murmurs to him.
Chas Chandler	Chas gives Phoebe a flat look and says, "You're seventeen. I don't care if it makes your bones stronger like milk... you don't get it until your 21." He gestures behind to the back room. "Go through the door... don't mind anything you see in there. It's just party tricks and not real. Stairs up. She's in the living room or the door on the right." He frowns at Jon the man's words echoing Phoebe's and frowns. "That's... that's just not done, right? I mean... angels are supposed to be the good guys, aren't they? I mean, sure fire and brimstone and Revalations but... that doesn't... isn't..." He takes a long draw from his beer, clearly the situation is shifting age old ideas in his own head. He reaches under the bar and removes a genuine glass bottle of Coca-cola and deftly pops the top off with a quick twist from a bottle opener before sliding it before the Archivist. "Like I told her... shaken up. But resting" he says and then there's a soft pale hand at his shoudler and he turns to regard the artist. "Oh... you're up. Are... are you okay?" he asks, his demeanor softening at her presence. "I was... I was worried." Their size difference is start but the fondness and connection between the pair is not exactly subtle.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe eye-narrows at Chas. "... that's very fair." she nods, and then sip sher mocktail as she gives a wave to Jon and hsi friend. Biking buddy? Friend? "Need any additional help? I've gotten recordings of the other places and some information, but never thought to Thiiiiirrrd glass of grenadine and gingerale." she remarks, and she taps her fingers on the counter, then tilts her head back and takes a deep breath, reaching up and touching her chest a moment, below th eneckline again, she looks at the white haired lady, and then looks at Chas, and then purses her lips, folds her hands, and sets her chin on her folded hands, eyebrows rising up.
Cael Becker	"Yeah, well, this angel's fucking sick," Cael mutters under her breath. "Apparently mind-whammied this poor woman into believing she //deserved// to be punished - that she needed to be 'cleansed' of her burden - because she fucking shop lifted." There's some real anger there, still, in her tone and in her expression. "She //let// herself be nailed onto a cross. The sooner we kill this fucking monster..." the better everyone will be. She shakes her head, making her way towards the door. Once through it, she pauses, staring around in bafflement. She reaches out for one of the jars, giving it a poke, and whether or not she feels anything solid under her finger, she continues on to find her roommate. "Got you a change!" she calls out brightly.
Jonathan Sims	Jon takes a few long drags on his cigarette, shoulders slowly relaxing as he does. "'Good' and 'bad' are relative concepts. I wouldn't say angels are the 'good guys' any more than demons are necessarily the 'bad guys.' There's something to be said for free will and sticking it to your parents, after all." He shakes his head. "I prefer to think of it as... light and dark, order and chaos. Cleansing and polluting, perhaps, that's a more Shinto-style dichotomy." He sighs. "Regardless... this is out of balance. This is as out of balance as a demon running about healing people and singing 'peace on Earth, goodwill to men.' It's /wrong/. And..." He frowns. "And I'm supposed to /stop/ that, evidently. /Damn/, I wish I had Gran's papers so I knew precisely what all of my duties are. Every time I turn around someone else is saying 'hey, Archivist, come fix this!' But this one... this one's... an /old/ responsibility. Older than the Pharoahs, I think." He looks over to Phoebe. "Recordings and information would be excellent. I need to go draw out statements myself, but that won't tell us what was there to begin with. Did they have similar magical signatures?" He tilts his head, evidently trusting to her ability to sense magic to be able to tell. He notices Lasariel, with a polite nod. Raises a brow at their interactions, but says nothing. Yet.
Asariel	Lasariel gives a look to Chas as others talk and there's a soft smile to him, "I'll be alright." she tells him. "Just a little sleep will help probably." she chuckles to that. The sapphire eyed woman looks to the others as they speak on the incident and there's a bit of a frown, "It is angelic, but it's a bit twisted, so I'm not sure if angels can go crazy or not. I'd need to check the library." she frowns. And the Enochian isn't the hack job stuff that 'scholars' put out. It's 'THE' Enochian that angels speak." she tells them. "So whatever you do, be careful. If it's something that powerful and you're investigating there's no telling what it can do...and given the amount of killing it might not be just one. It never hurts to be overly paranoid." she states in a quiet tone. Then she reaches out to give Chas' hand a gentle squeeze, "I'm sorry to worry you. This is the second time this week there has been...weirdness." she frowns.
Chas Chandler	Chas shakes his head again and notices both Phoebe and Jon looking at him. "Oh... Oh!" he says, looking suddenly a bit sheepish. "Uhh... Phoebe, Jon, this is Lasariel Weiss... my..." He smiles a bit. "My girlfriend. Las, this is Phoebe beacon, my older daughter" he doesn't put any sort of qualifier on it, to him it doesn't matter, "and Jonathan Sims, an... well, an old friend." He gives the Coke sipping man a soft smile before taking a breath. "You... you saw one of the scenes?" he asks, looking around. "How close?" he asks, looking between the three. "And... how much danger are we in here?" he asks Jon, more directly. "The bar, the Curio. Do we need to evac?" he asks. By his tone he doesn't like the idea. He looks at Lasariel and then back to Jon. "You... you should bring her in on this, Jon. She..." he frowns at her, not liking to reveal that he knows more about her than what she's told him. "She knows what she's talking about and can probably help you... unless the Archivist can read Ennocian?"
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe gives a smile, and gives a wave to Lasariel. "How do you do?" she asks of the white-haired woman and she sips her mocktail, and she bites the inside of her tongue a moment before she looks to Chas. "I can't abandon the Curio, but I'm pretty decently sure I can hang on until re-enforcement arrives if things get dodgy. It might be better for some of the other residents to have the choice of moving to a fallback location or other safe space." she reccomends. And at the question of 'seen one of the scenes', she makes a face. "... been to a couple of them. Been monitoring the police scanner system I have and was fortunate to come accross the most recent." she states, and she leans over to grab her bookback, which she typically slings under when she comes in. "Here, I wrote some of it down. I'm used to seeing it, but Enochian's not one of the ones I can read or translate -- I'm not that deep into the whole 'primordial being' thing yet." she explains, and she pulls up the page she had sketched, with the symbols, noting the 'phrase' repeats. She's quiet a moment, and then she looks up to Chas, and over to Jon, to Cael, and then back to Las and Chas. "I've yet to meet an insanely powerful being that wasn't inhuman at its core. It's easy to get people to think that they deserve punishment. That's what Sunday School was for when I went to church, you confess your sins, you say your Hail Marys and Our Fathers and your pennance is done. This is beyond common pennance, though."
Cael Becker	Unseen, Cael hands over the clothes she brought for her roommate, taking enough time to make sure the woman is alright, her expression serious and concerned. After all - her identity might end up being public in short order. When she's shooed away, she adds over her shoulder, "Well, when you're up to it - come join us. We're all screaming about angels and fucking madness down there." Sure. That's one way to put it. Still, she makes her way out of the apartment, and starts back down the stairs towards the bar.
Jonathan Sims	"I took a statement," Jon says to Chas, flatly. "So I experienced..." He shakes his head. He's starting to feel it's best not to tell people /too/ much about what taking statements does to him. How can he possibly explain that, yes, it's bad, but it's also... /right/, somehow? "I know what happened to her," he manages. He looks to Lasariel and nods politely, then blinks. "You were at the tree-lighting. You fainted on the ice when the lights and that strange love-aura went up. And you can read Enochian?" He quirks a brow. "The Archive has /seen/ Enochian, though almost all of it corrupted and impure, but does not provide the ability to /read/ it. Pre-dynastic Egyptian, certainly. The language of the angels? Not so much." He smirks. Then he focuses on Lasariel a moment. "I am the Archivist," he says simply. "I'm a living recorder, of events I experience and statements from others, but the recording has a /purpose/. I'm still not clear precisely /how/, nor exactly when or why it started, but part of my duty--the /core/ of my duty--is to judge those who will not die in the course of natural events. Immortals, demons... angels. And it is absolutely an angel doing these killings--that I saw in my statement. It's using its power and magic for the wrong purpose. It's... out of balance. I'm one of the safeguards that exists to track it down and bring it back into line, one way or another." He snorts. "No pressure, right?"
Asariel	"Nice to meet you, Phoebe and Jon." Lasariel gives a smile to them. There is a look to Phoebe though at mention of her also being Chas' kid, she doesn't ask questions though, "I've met your little sister. Who I hope is also doing alright." she states with a nod. Then she's listening to the talking that's happening. Though there is a questioning look given to Chas, "Did you do a background check on me?" she whisper to him. Then she gives a look back to Jon, "Yeah...there was a lot of Angelic or Abyssal energy that night. Kind of overwhelming to ones that can sense it." she admits to the man. "And Enochian isn't a very widely known language and most that can read it outside oand speak it, aside from Angels, don't really want to." she admits with a bit of a strained chuckle. "My occult expertise is Angels, but this is not like anything I've seen before. With it being so close to Chas and others is what is worrying me...I mean, I was worried before but now I'm doubly concerned." she frowns.
Chas Chandler	Chas winces as Lasariel's whisper accusation hits his ear. He didn't do it, but he is just as guilty in it. He shakes his head and whispers down to the white haired woman. "Not me... I'll explain later. Promise." He listens to the rest of what she says with a frown and then looks at Jon. "Is that really..." he blinks and whistles. "Bloddy hell, mate... that's... looks like we were wrong about you, weren't we?" he asks. "At least, with regard to what you're supposed to be doing" he says. "I mean, that's... pretty big." Phoebe's words get a nod and he says, "You think you can put up a general notice in the building? Give people the offer to clear out while there's still an option?" he asks the dark skinned girl. "I hate this..." he sighs, wiping at his beard. There are noticably a number of stray white hairs amongst the darker curls at his chin. "Not much for me to do than just keep the doors open for any who might come along, huh?" he asks.
Phoebe Beacon	"... you didn't say anything about--" Phoebe looks to Chas, and then she straightens a moment. Not her place either. She just reaches for her mocktail and finishes it, thinking. "My experience with Enochian is limited at best, I've only encountered it twice, neither time by a native speaker. I'm able to recognize it when I see it, but can't read or speak it. Can hum it all right if it gets stuck in my head." she jokes, regarding the whole Choir of Angels motif, and she motions to herself. "Occult researcher, investigator, pain in the butt and barback." she jokes, listing her best qualities "But I'm decended from a long line of exorcists, healers, diviners and magicians. Notably, not on my dad's side." she points out with a slight grin, and she looks to Chas. "I'll put up a notice and text the group. Half of us are fighting Vampires in the next burough. Zee can fallback to Shadowcrest, Bart I know has a place in Gotham he can go to." she recounts quietly, looking over to Jon. "You going to be all right with all of this? I think it's best if I stick around in the Curio, in case we need to buy time." she considers, and she scratches at the leather strap around her left hand inirritation. "Those who are investigating should be able to use the library, I should think, in case they need spellwork space or the table."
Cael Becker	Cael re-enters the room, taking her own place at the bar, and listening for a moment to the various conversations passing around. It seems some of them are introducing themselves, though - or their abilities at least. She picks up the beer, lifting it to the others present as she remarks, "Cael Becker, FBI. And I have no idea what the fuck is going on," she states blithely. "Except that..." she levels a finger at Lasariel, gesturing with the beer as well, "that message you translated - did an angel send us a threatening text? Is that what that was? 'Maybe one of you is worthy of my judgement' or some crap like that?"
Jonathan Sims	"I haven't been to the Curio since I gave Chas the key to the flat there," Jon says gently to Phoebe. "Bad memories." Not that there were /many/ memories, but the ones there were... well. Best not to dwell on it, just now. "I'll be fine. Or as fine as I ever am. I'm sleeping decently, of late, so that's... something, anyway." He sighs. "I live out in Westchester now anyway, much of the time. New job and all." Presumably the one that gave him the gun. "If I need to stay closer we've still got the flat in Chelsea." He pauses, to put out his cigarette. "Truth be told, though... if I didn't have at least two other pressing matters to deal with, I'd just camp out here and dare the bloody angel to come after me. Threatening to judge us." He glowers, looking between Cael and Phoebe and Lasariel. He wants to tell Cael to stay out of Hell's Kitchen... but would it do any good? He lets out a long, slow breath. Then he says, "Becker... I think maybe it might be time to start augmenting your... FBI training with..." He hesitates. "Mental shielding, perhaps. I've been meaning to... suggest we make sure people know that anyway."
Asariel	Las frowns a touch, "Alright." she tells Chas. She wasn't expecting to have her past looked into after a few months, but...she wasn't very upset about it. Though she does turn a little inward on herself, comfort lowering a few levels. "Why do you think that it's going to come here?" she asks. "I mean...I'm not sure what its motivations are but does an Angel have a beef with someone here?" she looks around the crowd. ~You are close but still so far. Perhaps one of you is fit to be judged by my hand.~ she speaks in Enochian. "You are close but still so far. Perhaps one of you is fit to be judged by my hand." is what it said, so yes, it did sort of send people a threatening text. she chuckles at that half amused. "I am unsure how much help I can be with things, but if you need me to break out the tomes and stuff I can go through and see if there's been any other cases like this. It seems like the ten commandments type stuff, but that's just a theory." she states. "See if someone can ward until this blows over?" she looks to Chas.
Chas Chandler	Chas frowns at Phoebe for a moment and then frowns further as Lasariel turns in on herself. He doens't push the matter for the moment though. "I... don't know. I mean, John's made it his stomping grounds... sort of... and yeah, he's pissed off angels and demons alike but never to the level that they'll come down and start just... ending random people. But aside from him... a few meta's operate out of here, but... again, I don't think any of them could push Heaven to this level." He looks at Jon and Phoebe, maybe they know more than he does. "And... that message doesn't sound nice at all." He focuses on Cael. "I think it might be a good idea to take advice from Jon in this one." He turns to Lasariel. "You are... protected in that respect, right?" he asks. "I mean... I don't... if it comes for you I don't know what I'd do..." He realizes the public venue of his admission and reddens severely before hiding behind his glass of amber ale.
Phoebe Beacon	"Ah... right. I didn't know if you'd come back or..." Phoebe trails off, and she scratches even harder ar her left wrist, her ears darkening in embarrassment. "... I have responsibilities. Someone's gotta make sure my dad doesn't melt into the puddle of goo we all know he is beneath that rugged exterior." she points out. And it's the real admission. She stayed for Chas. She stretches her fingers, and she brings her hand up, waving it back and forth a moment. "As far as warding, Zee and I had gone over it. My blood's on the walls, but my warding work isn't going to stand up to an Angel. Even with what I learned before, and my books. The tattoo work still works to keep me hidden from those who can sense auras and other magics, so as long as I don't pop light too much and make a flashlight of myself I can't imagine they'd come for me. 'Sides. I'm not their problem." she states, ruling out everyone down the hall or upstairs from her apartment. She taps her fingers a moment on the bartop. And she glances over to Las, and she takes a deep breath. "What Dad means is, if something were to happen to you, he would either go completely beserk and destroy everything in his path, or fail to operate and give up on Existence. Which he better not do." she points at chas. "So if you're not warded against mental intrusion, get yourself a psychic friend or memorize Baby Shark." She gives a slight smile, and turns to Cael. "So. You lost yet?"
Cael Becker	"Oh, fully and completely lost," Cael agrees, taking another drink from her beer, as she looks at the various other occupants of the bar. They're talking about locations she's never heard of - and wards, and shields, and- Honestly, she's not sure where to start. Okay, that's not completely true. She does have one place to start. "Mental shields," she repeats. "How does one do that, and to what end?" she asks. "Are mental shields going to protect me against a crazy angel if it meant //me//? I mean - I haven't broken any significan laws in //years//." ...then again, one of the victims had kept their record clear for 9 years. ...which is longer than she's been on the straight and narrow. Huh. But maybe he just wasn't getting caught?
Jonathan Sims	"If I'd come back," Jon notes to Phoebe, "you would have seen me around. I've been meaning to come check in, but... I've been... well. There's been... a lot." He frowns, and goes to light up another cigarette. "They might help you long enough that you won't just sit there and let it nail you to a cross," he notes to Cael, darkly. "We have to presume that /everyone/ who's ever broken a law is in danger. Which means... everyone in this room save Ms. Weiss, to my knowledge." He frowns. "It... /might/ overlook Phoebe, as not having reached the age of majority, but..." He runs a hand through his hair. "It's crucifying /shoplifters/. Treating them the same as murderers and rapists. So who bloody knows?" He looks to Lasariel. "The research help would be appreciated, definitely." He's eyeing Becker, frowning. Then, finally, softly, "I... look, I could... /try/ to ward you, if you want. Not now; I'd need to search the Archive. But... you're the one person I know that /doesn't/ have those resources, and... I don't know that you'd trust a stranger such as, say, Zatanna Zatara." He smirks. "Though if you /would/ trust her, she'd be better at it."
Asariel	Lasariel reaches out and touches Chas' hand before she slips hers inside of his, "You have enough to worry about, so please do not worry about me. I have Gio and other things at my disposal if anything should try to assail us." she tells him as she gives his hand a warm squeeze. Then she looks to Phoebe, "I will look and see if I can find the proper wards for angels, I know my mom had mentioned some in her research." she nods. "Angels are...not in most peoples paygrades. They're god level things." she frowns. Then there's a bit of a soft smile as she looks between Phoebe and Chas, "Well, he won't have to go on a berserk, we'll be alright. " she nods to this. Trying to be reassuring! There is a look to Jon, "No, I've not broken any laws. But I'm guessing if it's killing shoplifters that it's not going to nitpick about other things." she frowns deeply. "If I've got wards and things to look for I'm going to need to head home...probably reschedule my classes this week and things given the threat level." she states. "I am sorry that we did not meet under better circumstances everyone." she looks to the others.
Chas Chandler	Chas nods at Lasariel. "I know I just... I want you to be safe and I feel so... stuck?" he says with a shrug. "I know you can probably take better care of your situation than I can my own. But we'll make it. All of us will." He looks at those gathered. "We're going to find this thing and figure out a way to send it back to where it came from. That's what we do after all, right? We stop these sorts of things." He glances at the walls of the Laughing Magician. "I mean, I don't have the banners put up but, we're all but officially associated with the Justice League now, so that's what we're supposed to do as heroes. Stop these things from coming in and taking over... with terror or killing sprees or... whatever else might rear it's head." He leans into Lasariel a bit and sighs. "Hey, I can do that much against this thing... designated cheer squad. Not the worst gig I've played."
Phoebe Beacon	"You're assuming I'm around to check in with. I've been back to the Village, spending time in Gotham, got a puppy, trying to get my GED when I'm not barbacking or being dragged off to other things like punching badguys in the face." she shrugs, giving a little neutral look of her face. Normal conversation topics. "Interestingly came up with the possibilitiy of transmitting an evocation to Enki in order to drown someone from the inside -- which is kinda what got my attention to the burning injuries, actually, because a friend and I were discussing the forensics of supernatural injuries for our medical file updates--" she states, waving her hand in an 'on and on' fashion like it wasn't a COMPLETELY HORRIFYING fact. "I don't think an avenging angel is going to care if I'm eighteen, Jon, if it's crucifying shoplifters the same as it is everyone else on the list." she states, dour, eyebrows raised up -- and she hops the bar. Because she does, and she goes to pour herself a sprite. "... I could try it. The mental warding." she states, and she looks into her glass. "I've seen it done on others, and there are several versions in my book that's close to the ones I've seen. Same intent. You know. Guard the brain from the intrusion of others. Would buy you time to think of a really good earworm or while re-enforcements show up." she sets her glass on the counter. "I should be able to do something to help." she states, her fingers tapping on the bartop. And then she looks up to Las, and she gives a smile. "IF you find them, I'd be happy to look over them. If you're willing to share." she gives an embarrassed smile, and rubs at her chest again, right beneath the hem of her tee. "There's never a good time to meet me. I'm a pain." she jokes, "Jon's all right, great to have when you've got familial issues like your cousin attempting to create a dark magic kingdom in the ashes of Egypt. Chas? Pretty much the best, spoken absolutely without bias, on account of Dad has probably saved my life three times this evening alone." she claps Chas on the shoulder, and passes behind him. "But tonight, I need to go and take care of the little critter that followed me home from Egypt." She gives a smile, and then from her two hands, she flicks them out and produces a pair of business cards. THey just have her phone number on it. The name's been blacked out. "Ladies." the 17-year-old states, offering her cards to the two "... just in case." she states, and goes to hike to the building next door. She pauses, and then leeaeaaans back in and looks to Chas. "Also, my friend Tim asked me to a party at the end of the month. I'll add it to the calendar!"
Cael Becker	Cael looks bemused more than anything else - it's a defense mechanism. Better to look bemused than overwhelmed, or confused, or frightened - but so little of this world makes sense to her. "Wards - and mental shields. Okay." Or are those the same things? "If I trust her," she repeats. "//You// trust her," she points out in a thoughtful tone. "What would I be giving her 'access' to if I allowed her to do these wards? What sorts of things could she learn about me through doing it? Or what sort of mischief or harm could she cause?" she asks bluntly. "Hard to say if I trust someone to do a thing - without knowing what I'm risking, Sims," she points out reasonably. Approach everything with logic. It's the only option she has - even in this insane world. Logic - and a fair helping of paranoia. "Not broken any laws. Huh. But if this angel is a //Christian// thing - now all sins are illegal, are they? I mean, I can call Jesus a cockless wonder, and it's legal. But I'm pretty sure the Bible has something to say about that." Boy, she's really tempting fate, isn't she? She starts to take a sip, pauses, then adds, "Not that I'm saying you've ever made such a claim," she remarks in a dryly amused voice. The card is accepted, and then tucked away without a word.
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods to Lasariel. "Pleasure meet you, Ms. Weiss," he murmurs as she leaves. He doesn't seem remotely fazed by any of what Phoebe's one on about. "Remind me to bend your ear on the subject of forensics of supernatural injuries, Phoebe," he notes to her. "Drowning someone from the inside..." He hums softly. That's a thought, evidently. Then he sighs. "Rather not /kill/ people, though," he murmurs. Then he sighs, and looks to Cael. "The way that Zatanna or Phoebe would approach warding is different than how I would, so I can't /quite/ say what you'd be risking. /They/ would be doing it as... magic. A spell, to protect you. I would do it differently--I'm a natural telepath, and I quite literally see people's emotions all the time." He eyes her for a moment. "To me, you... glow, sort of. Everyone does, really." He gestures at Chas. "He's sort of... green or brown, stable and dependable." Toward the departing Phoebe, "She's... /bright/. A Beacon for true. Ms. Weiss was as white as her hair, pure and bright." He looks back to Cael. "You... are a sort of reddish orange. Not as bright as you should be. Firey but grounded, confident. You like adrenaline more than you let on." He smiles. "I can read the emotions in the air, much of the time. I... try not to, but it's like trying not to read someone's tone of voice or facial expressions. To me it's just... /there/, with a lot of people, plain as day." He frowns thoughtfully. "If /I/ were to do a mental ward... something in the Astral Plane, to defend your mind from intrusion. Not magic, per se, but... an astral construct, mirrors around you, maybe, to reflect back the light. Maybe there's a better idea; I'd need to look into it a bit. But that's my gut feeling."
Chas Chandler	Chas nods afer Lasariel and Phoebe with a soft smile on his lips. Two of the four most important people in his life departing left a sense of melancholy in him but he was optimistic that they'd get through this alright in the end. At Jon's description of him and others as colors he frowns for a moment but then shrugs. "Makes sense. I've only heard of color coded magic before... never seen anything with it as the category." Then he perks up at Jon's suggestion of a reflective astral shield. "Oh... wow you can... you can do that?" he asks the Archivist, sounding rather impressed.
Cael Becker	"Look - Sims, it's hard to say what I'd trust other people to do, if I don't know what risks I'm actually taking," Cael points out reasonably. "That you trust 'em says a lot in their favor, but..." She sighs, and shakes her head. "I don't know. If you're that worried about all this, though, you can try the mirror thing, or... whatever it is you have to do. I've got no pressing need to get sweet talked into a crusifiction. The Passion of Christ was an awful movie." Well. She assumes it is - she's never seen it. She finally finishes off her beer, looking into the bottom of her glass for a moment. She knows she's not supposed to drink much anymore, but the desire to ask for a refill is writ all over her features, for a moment. Would one more really hurt //that// much?
Jonathan Sims	Jon looks to Chas. "I mean... probably? From what I'm gathering, the magic available to the Archivist is /powerful/. My trouble is that I don't know what I can do, and don't have the practice or skill, and... a lot of what I've /needed/ to do isn't... it doesn't come /naturally/. Hurting people, killing things, that's not... I don't /want/ to do that. But this? Protecting someone? This, I think, I could do fairly well." He hesitates a moment, then looks to Cael and says, softly, "I /am/ worried about this. You didn't see what it... /did/." He shudders, shakes his head. "If it comes for me, I have some confidence in fighting it off. Others here have faced that sort of thing, know wards and spells. But you, you're... /normal/." He hesitates again. "I don't want this to become /another/ thing you're going to need to wind up in my office for." A beat. "I... want you to be alive to come into my office at all." He smiles at her. "You've had my back. I trust that if we're in danger, or, I don't know, faint from the /worst/ statement I've yet taken," he smirks, "that you'll do your best to be sure I get out alive. That danger, gunfights and things, that's your world. This stuff," he gestures around at the Laughing Magician, "magic and rampaging angels, this is /my/ world. The least I can do is return the favor and try to be sure you have a chance to survive it." A look to Chas. Then, deadpan, "Are you /really/ putting up banners, though? Come /on/, Chas."
Chas Chandler	Chas grins. "No..." he pauses and then says, "Okay, I had one made. Still unsure on whether I'll put it up or not..." he shrugs. "Maybe I'll just keep it for novelty's sake." He takes another sip of his ale. "It's tasteful but the wording is a bit clunky... not sure how I really feel about 'Justice League: Dark.'" He shrugs. "I mean... it has the authority of the JLA behind it so there's at least that going for it."
Cael Becker	"How do you go and score a gig as the Justice League's little brother, or what have you, anyways?" Cael asks with some amusement. She flashes Chas a brief smile, then looks down at her empty beer - and shoves it away with a frustrated sigh. "I assume you have coffee in this joint?" she asks simply. She then turns her attention back to Jon, her expression grim and seriously. "Alright. Alright, Sims - I hear you. ...the threat could've been meant for me," she relents. "I've certainly done my share of unpleasant things. So, until we know more about how it picks its targets - what criteria it uses, how fresh the crimes need to be... Like I said, I'm not into the Passion of Christ. So what do you need //me// to do in order to get these... wards, or shields, or whatever up?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon blinks at Cael rapidly. "Now? Right now? I..." Well, better /here/, a place full of magic and weirdness, than in the cold sterility of the Triskelion, right? Except, he's not sure what to do... except... his magic isn't really precise and ritualistic /anyway/. It's more art than science, more freeform jazz than technically precise opera. So, okay, how to protect someone from an angel trying to get into their head...? Something about mirrors, and fear, and believing you deserve to die. Or don't deserve to die. According to his gods, Cael does /not/ deserve to die. Not right now, at any rate. "Put whiskey in the coffee, Chas," Jon says, and gets up from his seat at the bar. "What's your favorite song, Cael?" He's walking over toward the jukebox, moving half on instinct. "Alis, can I get your help, please?"
Sara Pezzini	Spare clothing isn't always what you might expect. For Sara it is a pair of old jeans, a green t-shirt, and a denim jacket. The favorite boots are lost, so instead she's in a pair of ankle boots that look like they came straight out of the 80s. Emerging into the main room, she is finishing putting her hair back into a ponytail as she walks toward the table where everyone is sitting. Her mind is racing over the possibility of all the internet videos already out there of the change happening, though hopefully the officers at the line had been keeping cell phone photography and videos limited like they're supposed to.
Chas Chandler	Chas does in fact have a pot of coffee brewed and ready because people in New York drink coffee at strange hours. He pours a bit of whiskey into the coffee... about of third of a large mug before sliding it in front of the pair. "You need anything from the back? he asks, thumbing over his shoulder to the room in question. "Athames, tomes of void, not to mention a whole plethora of herbs and compasses for drawing circles of various sizes." He seems rather relaxed, all of sudden. This is his element after all, playing assistant to one who does all the big effects.
Cael Becker	"If it'll shut you up," Cael answers Jon in a dryly amused tone. There's no malice behind her harsh words - in fact there's a smile of amusement. Even after the horror they just witnessed - not all that long ago. "If you need time to... plan, or prepare or whatever - look, shit, Sims, I think we all know I know nothing about what goes into all this." She's grateful for the addition of the whiskey to her cup - and if Sims was having it put in - well. It must be okay - he certainly knows what he prescribed to her. She picks up her cup, taking a sip, and offering Sara a nod of greeting. "...something that machine would actually have? Uhhh... does it have Vivir Mi Vida?" she suggests. "By Marc Anthony." Well - the girl did grow up in some of Phoenix Arizona's most low income neighborhood. Was the hispanic music any real surprise?
Jonathan Sims	Jon flips a hand at Chas. "No, no, that's... that's ritual magic, what John does, what Phoebe was learning. That's not what I do. What they're doing is... it has to be precise or it doesn't work, but then again, in a lot of ways, it's /easier/ because of that. What I do is... direct application of Will." He reaches out one hand, shakes it at the air. "I create a construct on the Astral Plane, and then I..." He makes a fist and pulls it down. "...manifest it into reality by Will. It's hard to get things to /stay/ that way, and it's /extremely/ difficult to do anything I don't... /believe/ in, but it doesn't really backlash on me, and it's proven effective." He peers at the jukebox, then keys in the song. "What I'm going to do is... well, it's literally just making something on the Astral Plane and making sure it sticks to Becker here. Really, I could probably just... /do/ it, but I want it to /stick/. I want to be /certain/ this will /work/. Alis?" He looks around. "Where /is/ that ghost when I need her?" Jon hesitates, then, doesn't touch the jukebox button just yet. "Actually, Chas, I could use a small knife, a little pouch, and a leather cord if you have all of that. It'll be easier, that way."
Sara Pezzini	Sara has no intention of interrupting whatever it was they were talking about. She gets herself a cup of coffee, adds a little sugar and takes a seat to stir it. "Plotting and scheming?" She asks quietly, taking a sip of the coffee. "Don't need the details, I assume it had something to do with angels. As for Alis, she was in the backroom with me commenting on..." Before she can finish Alis just pops in by the table as she says, "On the fact that Sara's /all/ woman, and Witchblade's mean to destroy bras and panties." She offers an exaggerated wave, then extends her hand toward Chas. "Hello all! I'm Alis, presently haunting Cael and Sara with in an inch of their lives."
Chas Chandler	Chas for his part isn't at all perturbed by the presence of a ghost. He smirks at the young woman and nods. "Miss" he says, in greeting, "Name's Francis... but most people call me Chas." He looks at her hand. "Not sure that's how it works... unless it does for you?" He looks at Sara and Cael a brow arched. Before they can answer he holds up a hand, "Rain check..." he says to the ghost with a smile. He sets his tall glass on the bar and reaches into a drawer. "Knife here..." he says, placing an old wooden handled blade, maybe 4 inches long on the bar. "Cord too" he adds as he places a length of leather cord, 18 inches long next to it. "Empty or you okay with sand being in the pouch?" he asks as he moves around to the back room. "I know where a pouch like that is," he calls over the sound of boxes and jars being moved. "Problem is it has sand or well actually salt from the Dead Sea in it and that--like so many other things in this damn room--might come in handy at some point."
Cael Becker	"It works for her when she wants it to," Cael remarks with a wry smile, before adding, "Hey Alis. You doing alright after- what we all just saw?" she asks - a flicker of concern showing on her features. She knows it was a lot - the corpse, the spirit bound to the cross, the spectral blood... "Sara," she adds, her tone hesitant. "You think there's more spirits - bound to the other crosses in the evidence room?" Trapped. Suffering. She takes another sip of her coffee as she simply waits for Jon to do - well. Whatever it is that he does.
Jonathan Sims	"If you don't mind, that /would/ help," Jon calls to Chas. "Dead Sea salt, might be effective against angels." He looks to Sara. "I'm trying to give Becker a defense against the angel. It threatened us, it's going to come after one or all of us, and she's the only one that was there that has /no/ way to defend herself against the overwhelming will of an angel telling her she deserves to die for her sins. I am /not/ letting some cocksure winged /git/ nail my patient to a cross." Well, then. He rolls his wrist and conjures up a pair of glowing golden scissors. "Alis," he says, "would you be willing to give me a lock of your hair? I know you're a ghost, but these scissors will cut your hair. If you'll allow me, I'm going to use that hair and a bit of Cael's blood, and make an anchor for her to carry, for my spell. I know you want to protect her, I know you agree with me... that whatever Cael's done in her past, she doesn't deserve to be killed for it. I can use that energy to help protect her, give her a fighting chance."
Sara Pezzini	Sara visibly pales, the coffee cup pausing as she lifts it toward her mouth. She hadn't thought of that, but it was likely that the other crosses now in lock up had the spirits chained to them as well. A ripple of anger washes through her, partly her own, partly Witchblade's, the idea of leaving a spirit like that and calling it justice. "It's likely," she finally breaths out. "I'll take care of it tonight, before I go home, unless..." She pauses there, looking over at Jon who was clearly getting busy with something. "Do you want to speak to them as well Jon?" She then asks. There might be information he can obtain from them that she clearly cannot. Normally she could speak to spirits, but this was different, they were being compelled to silence by the chains, which she also found unacceptable. "I'd like to get them freed as soon as possible, so... when you're up for it, if you do want to speak to them." Then his words filter in through her concern about the spirits and she snorts, "I'd like too see it come after me... okay, rephrase, Witchblade would like to see it come after us." ============================================================================== Alis seemed only mildly insulted that Chas didn't want to shake her hand, and even gave him that indignant teenager expression before snorting and turning her back on him. "Asshole," she mutters quietly, folding her arms across her chest. "Can finally interact with people and they don't want too..." Then Jon is talking to her and the attitude shifts like someone flipped a switch. "Oh sure, you can cut my hair," she offers cheerfully, reaching to take the shiny scissors. "I like the idea of being able to help Cael, cause she's gonna need it." As she takes a lock of her hair off and offer it and the scissors back, she looks to Cael. "I'm alright, I mean sure, it was gross, but I'm dead... doesn't really effect me like it would of if I was alive."
Chas Chandler	There is the sound of a number of boxes falling and Chas calling. "FUCK ME!" from the back room. After a split second he calls out. "I'M OKAY. I'M OKAY!" He comes back from the room covered in dust but holding something small in his hand. The pouch. "Arsehole tucked it behind a box full of hardback fiction...." he mutters as he dusts himself off and walks to Jon offering the small pouch. "Maybe he was afraid to use it... being composed of dead body parts and all..." He makes a face, the memory of the Demon Constantine still in his mind. One more thing to deal with... eventually.
Cael Becker	Cael's gaze follows Alis and Jon, her expression showing a mix of curiosity and, yes, that ever present protectiveness of hers, before she tells herself to get a fucking //grip// on it. It's a //haircut//. And Jon knew better than to do anything to harm Alis. She takes another sip of her coffee instead, sparing a glances towards Sara. "I just made your night worse, huh?" she remarks. "Sorry - but spirits bound to crosses was just about all I could think of as we rode over here." "...dead body parts," Cael repeats in a quiet murmur, before shaking her head. Probably safer not to ask.
Jonathan Sims	Jon hesitates a moment as he reaches out to take the hair and scissors from the ghost. "I... need the statements, myself." He taps the side of his head. "If I don't get the statement, it isn't in the Archive, and I can't determine whether /any/ of the victims deserved their fate. But I cannot ask you to keep them bound. If I cannot get the statements from the spirits directly, I'll have to take my chances at the murder sites." He says this like it's a foregone conclusion. "As I said to Becker earlier... in a metaphysical sense this is /my/ case now. If I can work alongside the mortal authorities, wonderful. If not? I still have a duty, and I have to carry out that duty, one way or another. And I can explain /that/ in its entirety once I ward your partner." He ignores Chas' comment. Ignores it entirely. Instead, he takes the pouch with a nod, sets it aside on the bar, then goes to turn on the jukebox so 'Vivir Mi Vida' starts playing. It's upbeat, bright, a chorus of people singing together and clapping. Jon grins over at Cael as he comes back over to the bar. "You might want to listen to the lyrics, Becker. Live your life, hmm?" He picks up the knife and reaches out to take Cael's hand. Once he has permission, he pricks her finger and gets a little blood, which he... somehow mixes with the ghost hair. /Somehow/. It shouldn't /quite/ work, but it does, because he's willing it so. He grabs up the pouch and drops the piece of ghost hair into it, and keeps it held open in his hands. "Alright," he says softly to Cael. "Just... relax. Listen to the music. Think about your sister. Okay? Trust me." He keeps smiling. "I... actually /do/ know what I'm doing." Then he opens his Third Eye, /all/ the way, and focuses his attention on the Astral Plane. On Cael's dimmed fire, burning there, the fire of her thoughts and hopes and dreams. He begins, painstakingly, building a sort of mirrored sphere around that fire. It's a modification of a spell he'd seen done once, long ago, though that had involved real mirrors, not Astral ones.
Sara Pezzini	Before Jon gets fully into working his magic, Sara says calmly, "Then I'll take you to find the spirits that we can so you can get the statements, then I'll free them. It's as simple as that." Now she falls silent, sipping her coffee as she watches Jon mixing the parts and working the making. These were the sort of magical things she knew very little about. She knew it was possible, and that she could probably learn them, but that's about the extent of her knowledge. ============================================================================== As Jon is mixing her hair with Cael's blood, Alis is watching intently each and every step, as if trying to learn how to do it. Really she's just curious about it, and how it works, and if it will work, so it has her attention. Since Cael is supposed to be concentrating on music, and Jon is busy doing... whatever it was he was doing, her attention shifts back to Chas. "Wanna shake my hand yet?"
Chas Chandler	Jon gets to work and Chas moves behind the bar. At Alis he offers his hand. "Sorry about earlier... mind is sort of one track at times like this... like I said, I'm Chas..." he smiles that friendly smile again. "Didn't mean to offend." He looks at what Jon is doing, it's different that other magic he's seen but then again... that's not all that surprising, given that he never really saw much of what Jon's predecessor did in the same vein.
Cael Becker	"I'd snark back, but I pay you to tell me things like that," Cael remarks dryly - as Jon encourages her to listen to the lyrics of the song. "...hell. Like that would stop me from being snarky," she decides - amusement flitting cross her featuers for another moment, before she falls silent - and actually listens to his instructions. What she thinks about are days spent in the shop - laughing, and talking, and listening to music - Cael handing Alis the tools she needed to do her work. She thought of Alis waiting for her at the finish line - the excitement at every win - the scolding at every scrape and dent she put into the Rasper, the first car Alis had cobbled together for her, with that faulty muffler that earned it its name. She thought of days at the mall, hiding from the heat of the day, fishing just enough coins out of the fountain to split a slushie. It all felt so long ago.
Jonathan Sims	Jon's not really listening to any of it, focused as he is on the Astral. He'd queued up a couple of other Marc Anthony songs, on a hunch, because he was sure what he was doing would take /just/ a bit longer than four minutes. But it's all in that same upbeat vein, meant to invoke memories of happier times. His hands move in circles around Cael, molding a sphere no one else can see. He smiles as Cael's fire flares /just/ a little bit, as she thinks through those old memories. "Very good, Becker," he says, not really aware he's talking out loud. "That's /just/ what I need. Who you are, down under... everything that's happened." If he was trying to do this thing in the 'real' world, it would never work. But on the Astral Plane, he manages to create that mirrored sphere, almost like a disco ball, hiding and protecting Cael's fire and reflecting back only the viewer. Not strong enough to withstand a determined angel, but enough to give Cael a chance to fight back, or run, or call for help. Enough, hopefully, to keep her alive. Lastly, he reaches out a hand and pricks his own finger on one 'shard' of the mirrorball. The blood that wells up is ectoplasm, and will disappear in time, but not before he drops it into the pouch with Alis' hair and Cael's blood. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen, and draws a stylized Eye of Horus there, murmuring a prayer to Horus under his breath in old, old Egyptian. Finally done, he closes his Sight and hands the amulet to Cael. "There," he says. "All done. Carry this with you, and it'll keep the Astral construct anchored to you."
Sara Pezzini	Sara listens to the music and remains silent, not wanting to mess up the magic in some way by being distracting. A part of her wonders how he is doing what he is doing. She can see him weaving the magics, forming the disco ball, and even addings his 'blood' to the spell, but she had no idea what any of it actually is. In the normal reality it just looked like he was moving his hands around but not touching Cael and almost reminded her of the childish, 'not touching you, can't get mad' thing. ============================================================================== Alis shakes Chas' hand with a huge grin on her face... she could touch him. After seven years is was really nice to be able to touch people again. Thankfully she was no longer angry with him because the idea of chilling him had crossed her mind, but he's not all bad, just focused. "It's okay to offend me," she offers boldly. "I'm just a dead teenager after all, what could I possibly do in revenge?" The grin gets a little bigger. "Only kidding. I know better than to mess with certain people in magical places, they get all testy and might try to exorcise me."
Chas Chandler	Chas watches Jon's hands move but nothing of the magic involve is visible to him. Instad he focuses on the ghost, giving her a look that said he was well aware of what level of 'revenge' she could take upon him. "I have a seventeen year old daughter... I have a general idea of exactly what you're capable of. And I wouldn't exorcise you unless you started hurting people" Chas replies nodding to Sara. "You seem to be rather important to her and she is rather important to Jon so that makes your rather important to me." He hesitates only a fraction of a second before giving the ghost a light rap on the shoulder in comraderie.
Cael Becker	Cael tries to focus on what Jon had asked of her - her memories with her sister. Her memories of playing hookie from school together, of comforting each other after difficult times - of promising to always have each others' back. It's hard, though, when talk of //exorcism// is being casually bantered back and forth. She shoots Chas and Alis a frown, before focusing in on Jon as he finishes. "It's done?" she asks as she take the little pouch. She looks down at it - then tucks it into an inner pocket of her jacket. "I'll keep it with me," she promises. "How close does it have to be? I mean - if it's on my nightstand while I'm sleeping... that's fine?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods. "It should be, though that's what the cord is for." He fixes Cael with a firm stare. "If something comes for you, /don't/ try to stand your ground and fight it. /Run/, and call for help. Got that?" He looks pleased, though, maybe a little giddy. He /loves/ magic, all the ins and outs and things he can do with it, and this sort of magic is the stuff he's good at. He grins brightly, eyes shining. "It's a shame you can't see it. Magic's /brilliant/."
Sara Pezzini	One brow lifts slightly as Sara listens to Jon. Although she watched it all happen, she wasn't sure where the 'brilliant' part came into play. "Don't take offense," she starts, setting her coffee cup down. "But exactly how is magic brilliant? Sure, I got this permanent friend living in my head, but that doesn't mean I can actually /do/ magic. I watched you weaving all that just now, and aside from a slight fascination over the way the patterns worked together, I have no idea what you did." Glancing over to Alis she adds, "Alis, you shouldn't talk about exorcisms, they aren't a pleasant thing for anyone involved, especially the ghost, and it wouldn't work on you anyway." ============================================================================== Alis stares at Chas for a moment, studying him rather intently, then finally nods... she's accepted that he could have a kid her age, well her previous age, age at time of death... it's confusing. "Don't worry Chas," she offers with warm smile. "I don't hurt people. I'm learning how to protect Cael from my side of things, and to help with..." she pauses, glancing to Cael before finishing that with, "... stuff."
Chas Chandler	Chas nods to Alis before looking at Sara. "There is a certain excitement to being able to alter the fundamental way the universe should work and making it work a different way based on your belief..." He pauses and smiles at Jon. "At least... that's what Constantine said to me a long time ago." He shrugs. "Well, I'm glad both of you are looking out for her safety. It would be a shame if that thing took one of ours..." he chuckles weakly. Understatement of the century there. It was getting late for him and he hadn't slept well in weeks... some slack had to be given.
Cael Becker	"Everyone's looking after me," Cael remarks in a dry tone. "But then - I look after them too. It's how we keep-" her gaze flicks to Alis for a moment before she finishes a bit awkwardly, "breathing. Anyways." She finishes off her coffee - maybe not the best idea since she still needs to get her bike. "Thank you, Sims. Really."
Jonathan Sims	"What I did was create a mirrored shell for Becker's mind, so that it's hidden from outside influences and will reflect back the attacker's own power, confusing and disorientating," Jon explains to Sara. "It won't hold forever under psychic assault, but I can't read her emotions and thoughts now. It should protect her from an angel trying to influence her mind at least for a little while, long enough to run or call for help. It's... a modification of another spell I saw once, but that once used real mirrors. And a lot of ritual magic I needn't bother with." Then he nods to Chas. "That's part of it, I suppose. But really, it's... it feels like writing music, or performing it. Bringing together this disparate things to weave a whole. It's bright and fantastic, and I'm really only limited by what I can imagine and my own will. So... brilliant." He grins. He nods to Cael. "You're welcome, Becker. Here's hoping you won't need it at all."
Sara Pezzini	Finishing off the last of her coffee, Sara buttons the denim jacket up. She'll grab her heavier coat from the saddle bag when she gets to her bike. "You make good coffee Chas," she offer as she stands up. "I live on coffee, so I'll be back for more." Looking to Cael she cocks her head slightly, determining from the way Cael moves if she's safe to drive or not. "Let's go get your bike so we both can get some sleep," she comments, then adds with as a mutter. "And I can put new back up clothing in my saddle bags." Looking back to Jon she offers a nod. "First thing tomorrow. Give me a call and we'll meet up at the first scene, see what we can see. Go get some sleep, that's what I'm going to try to do." And hopefully dream a real dream, not a past wielder. ============================================================================== Alis gives Chas a pat on the arm. "Thanks for not being an asshat," she comments, then just disappears... poof... gone. Jon and Sara can still see her of course, as she moves to follow the two out of the bar. She was still deciding who she would ride with this time, probably Cael, so she could whisper in her ear to go faster.