Odd Friendships
26th of December 2006 A.D.
After making sure everyone's comfortable as cane be and asking if there are any other surprises lurking down there —there aren't— you ascend from Undertown into the light the crystal cold winter's day. It is the kind of Midwestern weather that looks great in postcards and movies, but is considerably less fun to drive around in. You almost fly out of your seat on the corner of Augusta Boulevard and St Luis when Black Rider is forced to break suddenly between the ice some asshole in a lime green Honda Civic who thinks that 'right of way' is more of a suggestion.
"I could provoke considerable vehicular harm at little cost to myself," comes the expected suggestion over the speakers.
"Now that's not in the Christmas spirit is it?" you ask chidingly.
"A delivery of coal would damage and stain my baggage compartment. I lack the manipulator limbs to manipulate a switch."
Though you do your best to explain why that is not the best perspective somehow you find yourself pulling up to Harry's place deep into explaining the negative effects of burning fossil instead of why property damage and corporeal punishment are not the best way to solve traffic violations.
Out you go, a quick knock on the door.
"Merry Christmas! I bring presents!"
Lash-Tiffany —you really should ask her which one she prefers— answers the door wearing a dress that might best be described as the surprisingly handsome offspring between a sweater and a black cat going down just enough to be classy matched with black stockings and flat shoes, not like she really needs the boost. Her hair too was different, a braid done up to give the impression of a crown upon her head.
"Good day to you too," she answers solemnly
"The rest of the gifts are on the other side," you confess, looking around her and sure enough Mouse is there, seeing to his duties as soon as the door opened. Part of you wonders how he had taken to a dark incarnate in his domain. Of course you give him a scratch behind the ear before all else.
"Couldn't bring it over?" Lash asks walking into the living room.
"Not unless I asked Dad to bring the pickup or Mom to get the SUV."
Harry looks a bit like a deer in the headlights at that which only makes the spark of mischief in those bright green eyes get even brighter. "Not appropriate for parental scrutiny is it?"
"Ah, if only, you make me sound so much cooler than I am," you laugh. "Too big for the trunk."
As Harry gives a sigh of relief and Mouse offers a woof of interest you wave at them and turn on the music, attention turning inwards.
Even though there is a part of you that wanted to fill Harry's kitchen with Sanctuary tech, better than anything one can find in stores on Earth this apartment is not the Last Station, people are going to be wandering around, maybe making it as far as the kitchen. Advertising in the phone book as 'wizard' is one thing, having stuff on hand that looks like it is from the twenty fifth century is quite another. Fridge stove, microwave and toaster are all of perfectly recognizable brands and all of them invested with will and power. Invested too though in another way is the collar woven of silk threaded with silver and with brass invested with the power to turn agility of mind and will into that of flesh and even a telekinetic grip
Mouse takes one sniff of it than slips it on then rushes into the bedroom, returning with paper and pen in... paw. That looks a little weird for a canine body plan admittedly, but it doesn't warrants a
double take from Lash.
"What?" you ask.
"Just realized I might have a wider market for my services than I thought." She turns to Harry. "Looks like you have a new pen pall."
"Oh he doesn't need to write letters for that," you motion to the smaller of the remaining boxes, containing a harness and a sleek seta-style drone. "Once you work out a system you can speak though it with movements and gestures."
At that Mouse stops, tips his head towards you then starts to write:
"I'm not sure I want that, Burny will be sad I do not need him for anything."
"You could just not program it to speak, but let's just see what Burny thinks first," you offer, already thinking how you can transfer the spirit to the drone.
So you put it to Burny, to the demon once crawling blindly over his fellows in the darkest corners of the internet, spinning recursive spite. For a moment he is silent then:
"Ally Erroneously Designated Mouse you should utilize new tools to maximum efficiency. It will optimize the unity of desire and outcome, bringing about a positive outlook."
It takes a moment longer than usual to translate: Go for it, it will make you happy.
"I will find fulfillment in serving as an outward communication relay. Request: Continue game of checkers when time allows."
"You've been playing checkers?" Harry asks, looking between the burner phone and the improbably large dog as if seeing them for the first time in his life.
Before he can quite recover you shove a box of boots and socks into his hands. "Here, I figured you could use these as well, not lets go give Bob his..."
Harry shakes his head, gently puts the box on the table. "I got you something too." About five minutes later he returns with a book, though the word does not do the thing justice, a bit like calling a woolly mammoth 'a land mammal'. It is a square thing with a battered leather cover about a foot and a half tall and a foot wide thick with page after page of yellowing parchment. "This..." Harry proclaims, a little out of breath as he plonks the thing down. "Is a translation guide of a bunch of ancient languages that science hasn't quite gotten around to deciphering, but which the White Council has between wizards just preserving the right texts, living longer and using divination to fill in the blanks. Might be useful figuring out whatever ancient magic you have going on. I can't give it to you physically, the librarian in Edinburgh will have my head, but you can take pictures of all the pages."
"Harry, why haven't the Council shared this?" you ask, overwhelmed and confused at the same time. The deciphering of Egyptian hieroglyphics, Sumerian Cuneiform and Linear B had changed the way those cultures had been seen, shaken people's very understanding of the ancient past, revealed myths and legends, mundane doings and grand strokes of war and diplomacy that otherwise would have been forever silent and the White Council were just keeping that back, that
several times over?
"The authors, there's the work of eight or nine wizards in there, used magic to figure it out," comes the sober reply. "It might get some very curious people used to unraveling mysteries asking the kind of questions that are best left alone."
What is Molly's response?
[] Acceptance, it makes sense to avoid putting people in danger
[] Frustration, they are gatekeeping entire fields of historical study. They should use magic to make up an excuse
[] Write in
OOC: No social rolls in this but I did roll making the prodigy.
