He Was a Hotel Detective [IC]

[trollthumper]

Parkhurst Hotel

Monday, February 6th

8:32 PM

Nick Cimitiere was waiting to find out where Crow had been. And, as befit the occasion, he had pie.

It wasn't even one of his pies. Millie had heard that "young master Crow" - she insisted on using that term - would be returning, and whipped something up in the kitchen. Judging by the scent alone, it was delicious. To go along with it, he'd brought a carrying case of French roast from the Black Petal -- and some teas, just in case. On one of the other tables, however, lay a collection of tomes. Not just the usual old, musty collections of arcane knowledge, but forensic guides and law codes. Crow's missive had been somewhat brief, but one sentiment stood out - he wanted to know how to investigate.

Not like that had been Nick's strong suit at first. Most of the ghosts he'd talked to when his death sight had kicked in knew the particulars of their death, and it was easy to put things together after that. He'd started acquiring a patience for research when he ran into nonverbal ghosts, ones so traumatized by the instance of their death that they viewed the world through a broken lens. Hysterical blindness of the mind's eye. He'd had to shuffle between his courses, his part time work, and his starving student budget, but somehow he'd managed to work in some criminology courses at a neighboring college between his course load at SCAD.

And now, with a collection of old text books at the ready and coffee ready to pour, Nick waited to pass along whatever he'd managed to scrape together. Hopefully, it would be enough.

[Quinn]

It spoke volumes of Crow's fondness of Parkhurst that this time, he didn't simply teleport into Parkhurst at speed. No, this time he appeared on the front stoop, and stood there for a few minutes. His eyes raked over the front, and relished the appearance of the hotel which was like his second...no, third home. He'd missed this place.

He took the steps two at a time, and rolled through the front door, taking great care to wipe his boots on the mat and place them neatly at the side. He had a healthy respect for house spirits, particularly the Parkhurst ghosts; he even took the time to follow all the old traditions in regards to appeasing house spirits. Once that had been attended to, he pulled back his hood, and the bandanna down, breathing in the air and smiling before calling out.

"Hey Nick! You here or am I early?"

[trollthumper]

"Over here!" Nick called back. He was cutting into the pie as he called, sliding a slice onto the plate and setting it where he assumed Crow would sit. He also had a few sample books out - stuff on fingerprinting and collecting DNA, for starters, as well as one of his own diaries on ghosts and a copy of Tobin's Spirit Guide. You never know, it might come in handy.

"So tell me," he asked as Crow entered the room, "how'd the pilgrimage go? Learn anything new? Get into any hijinks? End up having to save the world? 'Cause let me tell you, that's more common than you think..."

[Quinn]

Morgan snerk-ed, flopping into the chair precisely in front of the slice of pie. Ghost pie. Huh. Well, he'd had meals made by spirits of wood, water, and fire, so what the heck. Ghost pie for lunch.

"In order? Well, yes, yes, no, and I'm learning that very fast thank you very much."

Truth be told, he'd been looking forward to making this appointment. That training pilgrimage he'd been on had really opened his eyes to some things, and caused him to make some re-evaluations in his methods of thinking. This meeting he'd asked for was part of that - while he'd been focused more on raising a legend and gathering strength to rival the legends of the past, he'd let his head get far too high into the clouds. This was an exercise in solid grounding, building up the basics. And Nick was the best to learn from, at least among the folks he knew at Parkhurst period.

That, and he pretty much had a stick of magical dynamite in his pocket that he had learned very quickly he couldn't handle guarding on his own. He was actually a bit surprised the ghosts or wards hadn't started screaming red when he walked in, come to think of it. Though...putting it in Parkhurst was still a question he was mulling over, to be honest. He didn't want to bring hellfire and brimstone down on the place, but his options were rather limited.

"Gets to be a routine, y'know? Get up, go to school, save the world..."

[trollthumper]

"I know that routine," Nick said. "One of the... benefits, I guess, to coming into your powers freshman year. Puts the whole panic of midterms and self-responsibility into perspective." He shook his head. "Of course, it didn't exactly help my first wave of midterms. You have any idea how hard is it to cram when you've been up all night playing 'good cop' to a vengeful shade?"

He flipped through the books. "So, where do you want to start? Securing a crime scene? Collecting evidence? How to enter a barred-off scene and make sure you don't taint anything that's there?"

[Quinn]

Morgan leaned on the table, idly ferrying pieces of the pie to his mouth. Good pie like that must be eaten hot. And slowly. Savor it. Yes...oh sweet blessed Avalon that was good pie. The words -coming into your powers freshman year- caused his expression to go a tad brittle, but it swiftly vanished under a low chuckle. And a few memories from back home.

"Cramming after a night's work's one thing, but toss heavy lifting dockside into the mix too? That's a pain I really could've lived without."

He shook his head and took a sip from a handy glass of milk (Mental note, Millie is awesome!), musing over Nick's next question. The fact that the trip had been devoted to combat abilities and his skills crafting runes had caused his regular skills to deteriorate some; annoying, but a few good crunch sessions in the Doom Room hiding on gargoyles or something'd help get him back up to scratch there...still, even before he'd left, he wasn't exactly any great shakes as a detective. That'd have to change.

"Mm...you pretty much got what I'm worst at so far. I'm passable at digging up info once the evidence's been found, but finding it's not...yeah. I'm pretty bad at that. Start with the basics, in that order?"

He tilted his head, looking quizzical, and mentally reflected. Myrmidon had leaps and bounds ahead of him on that one, guy could cold-read a scene something fierce and have three different plans of attack or defense before you could blink. Problem is, he'd had that drilled into his head in a pretty...well, not pleasant fashion. Asking him for training might've brought those memories back, if there were any - he didn't want to hurt his friend like that.

[trollthumper]

Nick studied Crow. "I'll admit, it kinda came easy for me," he said. "A good deal of the time, I had the ghosts of the victims to help me out. Times I didn't, I could follow the news and look into leads from the investigation. But even then, that doesn't guarantee results. So sometimes, you have to dig yourself."

He pulled out a small steel lunch pail from under the table. He flipped it open to reveal a set of tweezers, several small brushes, a tiny valise filled with red powder, and a large number of plastic bags. "Haven't used this in a while," he said. "Used it a lot back before I learned how to look on the past. Of course, that's never a guarantee, so I've got to bust it out every now and again. Now." He pulled out the tweezers and the bag. "The first thing you do is you case the scene. If it hasn't been released, you wear booties and a hairnet when you do - may look weird with your costume, but it's better than compromising the scene. First thing you look for is anything out of place - stray rubbish, blood stains, other remnants. You bag it, seal it, and tag it. Set it aside for processing or examination - which is likely gonna require some sort of lab. The techs in Savannah were understanding, but that might not work for you."

[Quinn]

Morgan kept his head cocked and his ears open, listening attentively as Cimitere explained the ropes of keeping a scene clean. He could probably cook up a rune that'd thoroughly lock down any trace evidence he'd leave behind, but for now he made a mental note to keep a hairnet and the aforementioned 'booties' in a coat pocket at all times.

"Right; FCPD's supposed to be pretty good about working with heroes, though. So...one sec..."

He finished off the glass of milk, taking a sec to get his thoughts in order.

"Okay, think I got that nailed down. Uh, questions, though...where can I get a kit like that? And what about contamination from the spooky-side? Magic residue, ectoplasm and stuff like that? Whether me contaminating with the runes or there being evidence like that there?" He smiled wryly. "Don't think there's a standard kit for that, heh..."

[trollthumper]

"Not exactly," said Nick. "Then again, that's what Parkhurst is for. We've got a whole lot of equipment here for analyzing the more arcane of evidence. If you're going to be using runes on a scene, I recommend using them after it's been released. That way, there's no risk of contamination. Or, if you need to use them on the evidence, talk to the police about getting a sample. Sympathetic magic means one part represents the whole.

"As for the more mundane stuff, I improvised the bags from sandwich bags at first. Found out there are a few suppliers that work with crime labs, though - I can give you a list if you need it. Same place where I got the fingerprint powder from." He pulled the jar of red powder out of the box, along with a brush. "Which should be our next topic of discussion. Now. Light dusting, like this..." He demonstrated, lighting swirling the brush around the powder. "Then gentle application to a surface..." He ran it along the fork he'd been using on his slice of pie; the red clung to the silver, revealing whorls and swirls in crimson. "Then collect." He ran a piece of duct tape along the fingerprints, capturing the pattern, then stick it to a tab of white paper. "There. Fingerprints."

[Quinn]

Crow nodded, reflecting on his meagre knowledge of magic beyond his specialties of artifice and symbols. He was by no means ignorant of the various arts, the problem is he could never get his mind around bending the energies of the world without, for lack of a better term, a crutch. A foci, namely runes. Probably the reason the Morrigan sent that to him, in hindsight...say what you want, mom's a canny witch.

Reaching for the kit, he shot a questioning look, as if asking for permission. If Nick nodded, Morgan replicated the procedure quite swiftly, although he was a bit more heavy-handed with the powder than Nick was. Chalk it up to inexperience.

"Okay, that's prints. That list'll come in handy, sure; and I'll talk to Jo-...ah, Myrmidon - he's awful good at finding useful stuff. Swear, the guy knows every army surplus store from here to New York."

The teen looked at the tape with his fingerprint on it thoughtfully, before putting it down and gesturing to the rest of the kit.

"What about the stuff that deals with bloodstains or other...ych, fluids? Some kinda spray, right?"

[trollthumper]

"Luminol is what it's called," Nick said. He reached into his kit and pulled out a small spray bottle, a miniature black light, and a few swabs. "It fluoresces under black light when it mingles with blood... and, uh, other fluids. You'll likely need cotton swabs to collect samples of the stuff for proper lab testing. There's a database for offenders who've left DNA evidence behind, so that's one resource worth using." He leaned back in his chair. "There's some other stuff, but most of the time, we can leave the crime scene processing to the pros. They know what they're doing the best. We should step in on this stuff mainly when they can't find anything."

He took a bite of his pie. "But, there's only so much serious stuff I can talk about at one time. Sometimes, you need to portion it out with small talk. How's your return to Freedom treating you?"

[Quinn]

Morgan dug into another slice, relishing the pure apply goodness that was before him with vigor and joy. In between bites, he mused on what overall to tell Nick; settling on the fairly simple stuff - heavy stuff could wait until later, like he said.

"Pretty solid - nightmare getting back into classes, but I'm used to late nights. Shouldn't take long to catch up. Friends're happy to see me back, tho'." He beamed, remembering the reaction when Victoria saw him, and John and Brian's faces when she carried him over. Etain too, though she was a devilishly hard person to read. She'd looked happy too, though.

And of course there was the memory of Wisp's post-discussion welcome. He blushed slightly, but masked it with a long chug from a refilled glass.

"Ah...girlfriend in particular."

[trollthumper]

"That's good to hear," Nick said. "Work's definitely important for us, but it's kinda important to make sure it isn't everything. Finding that special someone's a good way to take your mind off of the game." Nick took good care not to mention that he was currently single, nor that a fair number of his relationships had fallen apart because he'd spent more time focused on the matters of the dead than on making movie night. If Crow was managing to make it all work, then more power to him.

"And I understand how hard it can be to juggle school work and crime fighting. Teachers treating you well at least?"

[Quinn]

Morgan smiled rather shyly, finishing the milk glass. Vicky was a pretty important part of his life now, though the 'taking his mind off the game' thing made him a bit thoughtful. He'd been getting very wrapped up in training and experimentation with the runes before he left on the trip - in hindsight, that spoke volumes for her patience...he resolved to do some more thinking on that subject later. And maybe some apologies.

"Well...kinda helps she's in the same buisness we are. Hero biz, I mean. Don't have to keep the mask between me and her. Plus the fact that she can twist me into a pretzel helps too." Smile turned wry. "Or pick me up and carry me out of the lab. Literally."

He put the glass down and shrugged at the next question, recalling a few of his teachers. Some fondly. Others...not quite so much.

"And yeah, depends on the teachers. My Latin prof's busting my chops every day, but that's what I get for going with old-school pidgin Latin picked up hodgepodge from fae and spirits. Same with Mr. Skyler in math...oy. Just oy. And Mr. Archer? P.E teacher, guy in charge of training my friends and I? He's the nicest, sweetest drill instructor you'd ever meet. Heckuva trainer, though - don't know where we'd be without him...anyway. Shop with Miss Harcourt's all kindsa fun, tho'; same with English classes with Mr. Perry. And art, oh yeah, art classes. Hah. All that practice with rune designs? Translates very well indeed, Mr. Kuzkin's practically singing. Well...not really. You get the idea."

[trollthumper]

"Sounds a hell of a lot like my time," Nick said. "Art class and body shop were my main focuses. English wasn't bad, history was tolerable... math?" He waved his hand up and down, the universal gesture of "eh." "Then again, I went to an arts school and sling coffee for a living, so what do I know? Then again, if I'd gone to MIT, I imagine I'd have been dealing with some pretty old ghosts." He paused to pick at his pie, which was starting to cool - conversation had taken priority over eating. "You said you've been working on rune design. Mind if I take a look at some of the latest? I'm not exactly a master at tracing magical circuits, but I've drawn enough veves to know when a glyph's balanced."

[Quinn]

Morgan grinned. And held up one hand; turning it to show Nick the back of his glove. He loved showing this one off.

The same metal plates were across it, knuckles and back of the fist - except now there was a trio of runic sigils across the main backplate. And Eric's experience with veves did pay off in spades; it wasn't much of an intuitive leap to see the design the teen had worked into the plates. First was a ferrous rune, a very simple Celtic design meant to represent "metal", while the second was almost a carbon copy of one Nick had seen before on the shoulder of Morgan's coat, a wind sigil, one he used frequently for short-range 'hops' - albeit somewhat tweaked, and linked with the prior ferrous one. Finally, the third was separate from the other two; this one definitley more powerful, although in keeping with the plain and uncomplicated nature of the other two - an elemental rune, this one of lightning.

"Talon Gloves, built them myself. You remember I spent a heckuva lot of time here before leaving learning how to make knives? And how to balance them properly?"

If anything, the grin got wider. And he made a slightly elaborate gesture, like a stage magician. "Well, nothing up my sleeves..." Held up the cuffs, shook them, then simply rolled his knuckles like a coin was in between. There wasn't any flash or grand, sweeping gestures; one moment there was nothing, and the next a very simple, matte-black and razor sharp throwing knife was between his fingers, rolling quite neatly around the digits. And it was very easy for Nick to spot that there was an almost exact copy of that same metal rune from the backplate carved on the side of the weapon.

[trollthumper]

Nick took a careful look over the design. Enchantment wasn't exactly his forte - his biggest work, his jacket, had gotten its boost through full immersion in the River Styx. Working the forces of the worlds beyond into fine weaves and stitching them into objects wasn't beyond him, but he did much better with straight-up evocation than installation. So while he couldn't exactly offer pointers on Crow's enchantments, he could at least admire the intricacy that went into them.

"That is some incredible work," he said, running his fingers along the lines of the runes. "Works as a homing weapon, a stun gun, and a means of getting around cover. I mean, at the least. It's some good enchantment. Any other projects you're working on?"

[Quinn]

Morgan's ears fairly turned beet-red at the compliment, and he just nodded silently. At Nick's question, he then tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"You mean besides this one? The detective thing, I mean?"

A musing look came over his features as he thought about some half-baked projects he'd been coming up with since...well, a long time, really. Lot of them were way more feasible now, which was nice. He started talking slowly again, then a bit faster as other ideas started springing up at the front of his mind.

"Well, might take a leaf out of my friend Glowstar's book - he's got a costume that just appears outta nowhere; so coming up with an...I dunno, portable hole or something that I can just haul the coat and gear out of would be nice. Wouldn't have to lug a duffel around all over the place. Some runestones, too - basically smoke or flashbangs, but most folks'd see them as rocks. And seriously, who notices rocks? Maybe a magic mask or something for my eyes, special-ops type goggles without the goggles..."

The teen spread his arms and gave a cross between a somewhat lopsided and embarrassed grin.

"And...well...I'd love to fly."

[trollthumper]

"I could help you with the portable hole bit," Nick said. "Mind you, I mainly just use one of Hades's long-forgotten closets to store my costume - good thing he's bad with housekeeping - but I'm sure with some adjustment, we could get it down to a smaller, less Tartarus-adjacent hiding place. The mask would be useful - you ever look at those things plague doctors used to wear? Would really go along with the crow motif. Though I can understand where you might have issues with it."

He paused. "Now, flight... lots of ways to do flight. Making a deal with a patron of birds, drawing in the essence of air... given the weight and heft of the longcoat, that might be the best thing to work the enchantment into. Turn it into a set of wings. If that doesn't work, there's always a pair of shoes. Carve the enchantment into the soles."

[Quinn]

Morgan nodded with his eyes wide, listening carefully. Though at the mention of 'patron of birds', his expression went a bit flat. "Rather not rely on patrons, Nick. I'm kinda used to building stuff on my own. And the patron that would work with this coat...yeah. Rather not talk to her."

He noted his hypocrisy with an inward wince - yeah, his coat had been a gift from his mother, but he was sure he could replicate the artifact now...mostly. Well, some of the ones he knew well. Sorta. Maybe.

...

Okay, probably not.

"The flight's not really a priority anyway - I tend to stick to wind-walking...and that comment about Hades' closet should really spook me something fierce right now. I've been hanging around Parkhurst too much." Wry smile. "As for a mask, why not one with a way shortened nose? Small beak, covers only, say, half the face, maybe?"

[trollthumper]

Nick could tell he'd hit a sore spot. He could always suggest some other patron of birds aside from the "her" Crow was talking about, but decided to avoid the subject. "It's cool," he said. "There's always sylphs, or other entities of air. I'm sure you could study them and get some idea of how the windtracing works. The half-mask would work as well - I admit I'd go for the plague doctor one, but that's because I'm a grim bastard. What sort of enchantments would you want to work into that? Just a simple nightsight one, or put some work into a true sight spell? Maybe even something to read souls? I mean, there are lots of things you can put on eyewear to see the other side - question is, how many sides do you want to see at once?"

[Quinn]

Morgan pushed his plate away, looking thoughtful. The idea of the forensics kit was one thing, but multiple versions of sight would be useful. Then the first part of Nick's statement hit him, and he grinned.

"Dude, you drive a hearse, have a facemask that looks like a skull, and talk to the dead. I perch on lampposts looking like a grim reaper slash carrion bird and quote William Blake. Grim is too sissy a word for us."

The thoughtful look returned to his face. "I'd stick to the basics to start with. Magic equivalents of infrared, heat vision, night-vision; save the really elaborate stuff for after I know the thing isn't going to blow up on my face." Morgan tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then asked a question that seemingly came out of left field.

"Nick...a question. Different subject. Hypothetically speaking, if there was an...extremely dangerous magical artefact that needed a place to be stashed, how...secure...could this artefact be made here? As in gods-knocking-on-front-door dangerous."

[trollthumper]

"Yeah, we are not really the bright and shiny face of magic, are we," Nick said. "Then again, given the things we deal with and where our powers come from, I don't think acting like Gandalf the White was in the cards for either of us." He pauses when Crow puts forth his question, his eyebrows raising when he hears that the gains will likely result in gods coming to call.

"Well... I'd say we've got quite a few safeguards on here. When the Grue got in, they needed some top-of-the-line magical stuff, probably backed by their own weird pantheon, to crack the wards. But, if you think we need more firepower, we could always create something like that 'portable hole' thing you talked about to keep it hidden from magical scrying. Maybe even stick it into one of the gaps along the Cosmic Coil to keep it out of phase with reality." He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Dare I ask what it is?"

[Quinn]

Morgan gave Nick a long look, his expression cautious. Even resistant for a moment. Then resigned. He shook his head and shrugged, reaching into one of the coat pockets with a gloved hand. What he brought out wasn't exactly...well, it wasn't neccessarily unpleasant, but the whole thing screamed of raw, undiluted chaos. It was an orb, a dark, round gemstone large enough to cover the palm and fingers of one hand. The exterior was clear, but on the interior of the gem was a roiling and boiling storm of power with a capital P, psychic or magic energies that lashed and begged to be set free. Morgan put it on the table, pushing his chair back and looking at it with a mix of disgust and...something else.

"Says a lot about my choices that I'm bringing it here. The Eye of Balor, Bres's favorite weapon. Held onto it since that tournament in Tian last year."

Morgan gestured to the rock, musing on Nick's options as presented. One (not mentioned by Cimitere) seemed a lot more appealing than the others, not that he was willing to admit it. Or trust himself with it. So he went with the diametric opposite. "And I wouldn't mind dropping it into the deepest, darkest hidey-hole possible. Seriously. Way, way, way off the grid."

[trollthumper]

Nick studied the Eye, making very, very sure not to touch it. The Celtic pantheon wasn't his bag - he knew his way around the Otherworld well enough, and was acquainted with some of the local Deathlords, but he knew a hell of a lot more about the Greeks and the loa than the Tuatha. But a byproduct of study in necromancy was an ear for cursed objects. And while the Eye was an item of power, it also held the essence of chaos magic at its core - unless someone knew exactly what they were doing, the energy inside would warp them as if they'd gone for a nice bath in a reactor's cooling tower.

"Yeah, I... can see why you'd want that buried," he said. "A tournament in Tian, huh? Never been there myself. Closest I've been was Di Yu, and that was a long ways away. What was it like?"