Spirits Dark and Spirits Strange
21st of July 2006 A.D.
With a sigh you kneel on the worn rug to look Mouse in the eye. "Yeah, I figured. And maybe Harry doesn't want me wrapped up in dangerous stuff. But if that's really true... Harry's used to being alone, but it's a lot easier to get through dangerous stuff together. You know I'm not just a pretty face, and I'm probably one of the best suited to help Harry right now. Can you please tell me who might be able to give me more details about Harry's case? Otherwise I'm going out there half blind and that isn't going to help Harry or me."
Lost 1 Essence
Mouse considers this a long while, all the doggy energy seeming to vanish leaving him still as stone as watchful spirit. Finally he snaps his jaws, licks his snout and nods, before turning for you to follow him. Much to your surprise he leads you to the trap door half hidden by the throw rug in the back of the room, the way to the lab.
Did Harry write down an address and put it down there you wonder? Part of you wants to ask Mouse to just look in there and then text it out, you don't want to snoop. Well no, that is a lie, you
do want to snoop, but you know it's wrong to. As Mouse paws quickly at the air above the trap door like he is trying to swat an invisible bug out of the air, shifting the wards around, you vow to only look at what you need to and not what you might be curious about.
That resolve is quickly put to the test as you open the trap door and the light of Clippy's lantern reveals in harsh electric white this room has not seem since Harry moved in a scene fantastical and odd, Every inch of wall space is taken up by shelves that contain everything from Tupperware filled with indistinct liquids to carved wooden boxes filled with myrrh, sage, jasmine and honeysuckle to empty cages made of delicate brass wire that probably could not hold a mouse to reddish brown pelts neatly rolled up to a pair of antlers with way too many points for their small size. And books, of course there would be books in a wizard's laboratory dog-eared battered books with no title on the spine, a Latin dictionary, what looks like books on magic by McCoy himself, books bound in leather and brass alongside notebooks with their contents noted in permanent marker.
There are three long tables along the walls, one of which holds a fantastically detailed model of Chicago made of concrete and stone,wood and shingles, bark and leaf for the trees even.
A magical focus for scrying, you realize, impressed by the fine detail work.
As you move a little closer to look at it you feel a cold draft around your ankles and freeze. You don't feel normal cold. Looking down you see a brass circle inscribed on the bare concrete. There is
something there in the middle, no under it, bound by stone and circle, old and powerful... and oddly familiar.
Lasciel, that is where be put the coin.
Wait a second, why can I feel it? You wonder abruptly, it's not like you could feel Harry's focus or his shield bracelet even when you were sitting next to him in the car.
As you reach out for the unwavering flame of certainty at the heart of your mind, or your soul the cold goes away. It was reaching out to you revealing itself to you. "Cute, better luck never bitch." You like to think the core of Lasciel is seething in her magically enforced time out.
Lost 1 Essence
Mouse gives a woof, though you are not sure if it is a warning or just confusion at the byplay as he leads you to one of the shelves in the back, but these aren't books on magic, they seem to be fiction of a... peculiar sort: bodice-rippers to be precise from the improbably chiseled shirtless men wearing dubiously historical costumes and doe-eyed spunky heroines. You had bought Izzy one of these last Christmas as a joke. It featured a kilt wearing 'Irish Lord' who 'kidnapped' a remarkably amenable English heiress. According to her it was a fun read if you did not overthink it, which was fair enough you guess. The mind was clearly not what the author meant to excite.
As out of place as the books were in the room was the skull along them, covered in finely chiseled glyphs that flowed along where the major veins and arteries of the head would be with a three pointed seal where the third eye would be, a binding yes, but also an empowerment. From the handful of markings you can recognize you guess this is a spirit of intellect, reason and memory made manifest. In other words a perfect assistant for a wizard. At the same time you are pretty sure Harry did not make this, it looks orders of magnitude more complex than even the model of Chicago.
Lost 1 Essence
When light glimmers along the runes and then pools in the eye-sockets as points of arcane flame you are not the least surprised.
"Well hello there pretty lady, I'd ask if I died and went to heaven, but I'm pretty sure you'd be distracting all the angels."
The corny come on though, that's a little surprising. "Er... hello, I'm Molly, Harry might have mentioned me, he's in trouble and I'd like to ask you a few questions. Oh but first what are you called?"
"Harry calls me Bob I'm a..."
"Spirit of intellect, got that from the runes," you cut him off. "Power of the high airs, keeper of reason... something something.... unwavering lantern of the mind though the night of ignorance. I can't read the rest it's on the back."
"You can pick me up if you like, hold me close," the spirit says suggestively.
The book collection Bob is placed among makes more and more sense with every word out of his lipless mouth. Looking on the bright side least it's going to be really easy to get him to talk
"I
could do that," you tap your finger on your chin just under your lips. "But that would be over in a moment. Are you sure you don't want something more long lasting for your help. I could get you more books you know."
He doesn't answer leaving you briefly worried that you had lost him before a breathy 'wow' comes out.
Don't giggle at the silliness Molly, don't giggle, you tell yourself and with a Herculean act of will you somehow manage it.
"What do you want to know? I know lots of stuff, about the underpinings of magic and the principles of enchantment, the nature of spirits and gods, blessings and curses, demons and dragons and even the fey. Winter got to you didn't they? And you found something in there that invested you with ancient lore and authority over the seen and the unseen? Listen if you promise not to let it get back to her I can even tell you some things about Mab she'd rather people don't know. Pull up a chair, make yourself at home."
You can't help yourself. "Maybe lean over the table a bit?"
"Far be it from me to say how you should sit fair lady," he manages, a hint of an accent slipping into his voice. You are not sure what it is, maybe French.
What do you ask Bob?
[] Just what case Mab gave Harry
[] Any guesses he may have about what you are
[] Ask about Dragons, Lasciel seemed to believe they might know something about you
[] Ask about Leylines and where you might find a place of power, Usum says such a place could be really useful
[] Write in
OOC: Given what you rolled for charming him Bob will literally spend the next several days talking to you just for the chance to do so. 
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