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Social Emitter: Nessa
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Nessa and Myrtle call Angel over, and inform him they've decided they can, in fact, remove the escape clause on the Curse.
5/8/2016, 7:00 PM
Rowanwood House, San Francisco
San Francisco - Rowanwood House - Kitchen[]
The lights are on, illuminating the area.
The kitchen is spacious but still manages to feel cozy, its walls made
from plain white stone bricks meeting the heavy oaken crossbeams of the
ceiling overhead. The borders of the room and the edges of the doorways
and windows are framed in white wood, all intricately carved with vine
patterns. A partial wall separates the kitchen itself from the hallway
area, where doors open into the drawing room and dining room beyond, the
entry hall, and the east wing. Large windows occupy the south wall.
Standing cabinets hold various utensils and serving trays, as well
several sets of china, while a larder and pantry hold vast quantities of
widely diverse foodstuffs. The oven and stove are free-standing,
cast-iron affairs, and the place seems to lack any trace of either gas or
electric power. In the very center, a large wooden table is surrounded by
sturdy chairs, offering a place for informal dining, food preparation,
and everything else kitchen tables do.
Outside, it's clear, cool, and breezy.
There are sense notes here. You may lookout from here.
Several weeks had passed since their original meeting, and hardly a word from the Witches Council. Then, one Sunday night--the night of Mother's Day, oddly enough--Angel received a call at the Hyperion, inviting him for a visit to Rowanwood. Upon his arrival, one of the students (a girl studying witchcraft) led him not into the drawing room, but the kitchen, where Nessa can be found busily working on a meal for the house's many residents. When Angel enters the room, she's just closing the oven door, having checked on the roast within.
Smiling brightly as he enters, Nessa wipes her hands on her apron, naturally leaving both quite clean after, and offers him her hand. "Welcome! I'm so pleased you could make it. We have some good news to discuss."
Well, one good thing about Angel...he wasn't getting any older. The other part of the situation that mattered, for the most part, the major threat to his soul sticking around was out of town. So patience wasn't quite as bad as it could've been, even if a fire was lit deep inside his heart and soul during that brief meeting in April he had.
"Good news?" Once again, Angel felt that hope deep inside. They'd come up with something. There was a light at the end of the tunnel.
Nessa takes up a position beside the kitchen table, where dough is all set for rolling on a floured board. She begins to do so, giving it only just enough of her attention as she speaks. "While your situation is unusual, it's not /entirely/ unique," she explains. "There have been many who suffered from at least distantly similar conditions, and with a bit of experimenting, we've hit upon a method to restore your soul that we are confident enough to try." A moment passes, and she fixes him pointedly with a firm yet gentle look. "In other words, we're certain it should succeed. We're not Wizards, dear. We don't just..." She gives a vague motion of her chin and shoulders. "/Wave a wand/, shout some words in Latin, and /hope/." Though the words have a touch of sting, it sounds more like ages-old good-natured ribbing than genuine criticism. Well, mostly. "Yes, we're sure we can help you."
"We're certainly *not* Wizards." The sound of the voice is from behind Angel, and even with his augmented senses, she surely wasn't there just a moment ago. But Myrtle Snow stands not far behind and, once she has enough room, slips through the door into the kitchen and goes to rummage in the cabinets. "Lavender and vanilla tea...ah ha!" Today she's in something with a more purple and white motif, which apparently she intends to suit right down to the kind of tea she takes.
She reaches out and, with delicate gloved hands, removes the jar from the cabinet and sets it on the countertop, then moving to set out three cups and saucers for tea. "One lump or more, Monsieur L'Ange?" This is directed, ostensibly, at their visitor.
"One is fine." Angel could eat food, it just...had no nutritional value for him, and he often as not declined it. But...something about today made him want to take the tea offered.
Angel's not quite sure how wizards got brought up. He knew they were a different breed, but Angel was most familiar with witches anyway. "I'm glad you aren't wizards. There's a lot more witches around me then wizards." Not just Willow, of course, he's managed to spend some time with the Charmed ones of late too.
Nessa's expression flickers in a pleasantly amused way, and she gives Myrtle an appreciative nod. "I'd certainly love a cup, too, but no sugar for me, please." She continues rolling out the dough in front of her, carefully getting it just so, and offers a light laugh in response to Angel. "Wizards are good for some things, certainly, and the stereotypes don't always fit, but in general I've found the White Council to be quite... self-important. Arrogant. Definitely out of touch." She frowns, continuing, "I don't mean to gossip, merely... to point out that they're powerful, and they're essentially 'on our side,' but they can't always be trusted to handle... delicate matters." She sighs faintly, then lets the subject drop.
"On a happier note, we're ready to enact the ritual quite soon. We'll give it some time for the most favorable conditions, and I believe we'll want to do it at your home, since it will have a stronger resonance for you, but otherwise we'll be able to gather all the necessary resources without any trouble."
Myrtle's back is turned for the most part, which is good since her expression would seem to indicate that she has quite a lower opinion of Wizards in general. She arranges the tea and pours up the water, starting to let it steep before she turns slightly to look upon their guest. "Yes, we've invited some very promising students as well. We'll have a full coven and then some. Quite an event!"
Angel considers the witches, "Not really in a position to judge wizards. I've only met one, and the only White Council member I've met so far hired me to find some other member. Harry Dresden." But, at any rate, he's not going to rely on the type of spellcaster he doesn't know as well rather then the type of caster he knows very well.
"Alright. Is there anything I can do for you to help you set the ritual up? Are there diagrams you're going to need draw, things like that?"
"We'll have to set up a few things, yes," Nessa explains. "A few diagrams, circles of power... just a bit of scaffolding, really." She gives a mild shrug, then begins to shape the dough she's been rolling into the first of several pie crusts. "I don't think we'll need any special help with that, but if you want to drum up some reliable 'security' for the event, that would be most helpful. Since we won't be performing the ritual here, I can't guarantee safe and secure working conditions without help... and I don't, I think, need to explain how important those will be." She looks to Myrtle, eyes twinkling. "Quite an educational moment for the girls, I'd say. This is one of those moments they call 'history in the making,' after all."
Myrtle's gentle smile widens slightly as she brings Angel his tea and saucer first, then Nessa's is to her, before Myrtle takes her own in a delicate grasp. When the opportunity of silence presents itself, she swallows her tea and speaks. "Oh yes, this will be a night to remember. But as my dear Nessa has stated, the need for safety and security cannot be too emphasized. A coven can deal with most any threat, but it's a challenge even for a full coven 'plus autres' to address a number of imminent dangers. I will not have my students put at greater risk than strictly necessary."
That hint was easy enough to get. Fortunately, Angel had spent quite a bit of time gathering allies of various shapes and sizes. A surprising amount of them, reallty. And this is in addition to his closest friend, who had the access to the most security. "I understand. I'll have Faith contact the Slayers. I have some other allies I can call in too."
Nessa finishes her fist pie crust, then gratefully accepts the tea from Myrtle. She takes a few sips, savoring the flavors, before she speaks again. When she does, she offers Angel a reassuring smile. "Then, once you've arranged for our defense, I'd say the preparations are complete. We'll gather the witches here, and when conditions are right we'll settle on a specific time, and then we'll be able to get it all finished for you. I'm sure that will be a tremendous weight lifted from your mind--I would certainly find it so."
"Most excellent." Myrtle's smile spreads even wider, and she turns to her tea in focus instead, sipping gingerly at it and then resting the cup soundly on its saucer.
Angel sips quietly at the tea. The thought occurred to him he'd appreciate it more if his tastebuds were 'normal'...but even so, it's quite pleasant even to his relatively dulled sense of taste. Well. Dulled to every type of taste but one. "Not just mine. Every time...my other self gets out, a lot of people suffer. A lot of people die. Most of my oldest friends carry the scars of that." Not to mention one very special Slayer in particular.
"Scars can be great teachers," Nessa says, very quietly. "And it seems you've learned the important lesson. You've decided to end a great evil in the world... and that befits a champion. We're only too pleased to help, and the more protection you can help us muster, the better we can help." Then, as if dismissing the subject, she turns to Myrtle and smiles. "Lovely tea. Thank you." She lets out a soft sigh, setting down the cup, and begins work on the second crust.
Myrtle inclines her head slightly, to acknowledge the thanks with a kind of understated grace. She doesn't speak further, but her expression is a thoughtful one, as usual. She's listening, processing the words, thinking...perhaps planning for the future, for this singular and significant night of challenge.
"Scars can teach...but right now, I want to make sure any future scars don't come from me." He's caused more then enough of them. He sips more tea. "It really is good tea, thank you." As for protection, he's already thinking of the rather long list of people he can call once Faith rallies the Slayers.
"It seems the important lesson has already been taught," Nessa says quietly, and she offers Angel a nod of agreement. The tea, the path before them--it seems that, for the moment at least, they are all agreed.