Logs:Blessings of Bathory: The Mirror Shard

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Blessings of Bathory: The Mirror Shard

"I will re-kill you,"

Dramatis Personae

Jackson, Dove, Candle as ST

2018.01.27


Investigating a missing car and some teens, Dove and Jackson find an interesting mirror that the Daeva can't help but look into.

Location

Jackson is taking Dove out to a bridge, telling her along the way. “Guess you could say I caught wind of some kids missing, and I got concerned. Call me a softy.” Suddenly a narrator comes on. ‘He was not a softy.’. He leads her up towards the bridge after parking a little ways back. Yes, he rode a motorobike with her on it. Good thing cold doesn’t affect them so much. Moving towards the bridge, he scans the area for the car. “Shit, cops must have taken it to impound. We’ll have to go there.” Huh. He walks a couple more steps and then moves towards what appears to be a safe because that’s curious. The door has been torn off, he glances back to Dove with a raised brow. “Now that’s not human. I could barely do that.” He doesn’t know if she sees it, but he points out where it looks like a hand might have opened it. He also peers inside the safe, looking for anything left over, crouching by it.


It's pretty safe to assume that the moment Jackson mentioned that kids were in trouble, Dove was immediately willing to help. No fair praying on the mother instincts. She tags along, quiet most of the way. "So, I get being concerned about kids, but what do cars and safes have to do with that?" she wonders of him as she stares at the safe. She drops into a crouch in front of it, gloved fingers running around the bent metal. "What has strength enough for this?"


“Well, me.” Jackson gives her a little grin as he looks up, but it fades. “But also, one of us. A Werewolf maybe. Though I would expect claw marks then.” He runs his hand over the indentation the hand made, if it was a hand. Picking up the paper, it crumbles, but he makes it out. He’s very familiar with ships. “Shipping manifest, and F. Sloan?” Names doesn’t mean anything to him. He pulls out a marker from his pocket and writes the name on his arm. Checking for anything else in the safe, he rises. ‘I suspect I know what ship, too. I wonder what was in here.” His gaze goes around the area, look for tracks, or anything else that might be evidence.


"Well, wolves aren't always in wolf form, right? Do they have that superhuman strength when it's not a full moon?" Clearly she doesn't know that much about them. Just the same rumors and supersticions that anyone might have heard. Her eyes narrow, glinting in the moonlight as she starts to look around. "There are some tracks coming from the water over there? Small group, heading in that direction." She points the tracks out to Jackson, signalling off where they lead. "Might be able to track where they went?"


“I’ve never met one that could do this outside of some kind of form. They’re a bunch of pussies in their human form.” Jackson doesn’t know the name for their forms. He shrugs. “Possible though, she ones in a weird sort of half-form once or twice.” Which still makes him somewhat of an expert on Werewolves, if not actually one. His eyes go to where she’s talking about, squinting, he doesn’t see it. “Shit, I really do need to learn that trick. But yeah, one sec…” He moves over to where the rail near the safe. “This thing walks around this strong.” He examines the print on the rail.


"Mmm, well, I can teach it to you anytime. It does help nicely." Dove offers Jackson a crooked grin. "But let's see if I can get us another type of guidance." She glances around, looking for a can or soemthing that will hold water. She gathers what she needs and moves back up in front of the safe. "Keep an eye out for me please, my dear?" He's seen something similar before, her kneeling in front of a thing of water, slicing a finger open to drop vitae onto the surface. She focuses, murmuring quietly to herself. Then the water begins to move, swirling pictures playing out on its surface. She starts to dig into her purse, pulling out a pen. "I need something to draw on, quick."


Jackson nods and lets her do her thing. He goes around the bridge. Hand running over another marking in the rail. Where the guy probably hung himself, except, that doesn’t make sense. He peers over the side, occasionally keeping an eye on Dove as he heads down to the bank. Stopping when she says what she does, he pulls out his marker again. “Um, shit I forgot my journal.” That might be a joke. He offers her the only parchment he has. His shirt. After she is done, assuming it works, he heads down to the bank.


The shirt is offered, Dove's brows knitting together for a moment. "I honestly think you just wanted to take your shirt off," she informs him, about to put pen to shirt when the lights on the honking suddenly flood her overly-sensitive senses. "Fuck!" she growls, quickly jumping to her feet to dive out of the way. She may not be strong, but she's certainly agile, leaping over the edge of the bridge and diving right into the freezing waters. Thank goodness she isn't as susceptible to the cold as a human might have been.


Jackson grins. “You know you wanted me to.” He winks. Then he is down by the water by the time the truck comes barreling by, leaving her with his shirt. His eyes go immediately up and then watch Dove plummet down. “Shit.” He’s not too worried about her, mind. She’s dead and he knows it. She will survive that fall, even if she misses the water. But she doesn’t and he watches her into the water curiously. Looking down at the tracks he crouches. “Well fuck me. Did someone fucking fly away?” 3 in, 3 out, but only two up the embankment. He looks up as she climbs out, grinning. “I see you have a love for Polar Bear dips now. You going to live? That was my fourth favourite shirt, you know. And my favourite marker. It better be alright.” Pointing to the tracks. "We lost someone here. Their tracks simply end. That shit's not right, unless they can fly."


Jackson looks to Dove. “Since you’re wet already. Swim down...” He points to roughly the spot. “I feel like something might have been in the water.” A glance back up. “Might have been the safe too.”


"I will re-kill you," Dove says with a little snarl when he mentions the polar plunge. The look doesn't get any better when he asks her to dive down. "You're lucky you're cute." Still, she doesn't seem to actually mind, diving down into the water to look around. She was about to reach down for the bits when the water threatens to sweep her out. There's a quick shift, celerity taking over as she suddenly appears next to Jackson. "I hate you so much." She informs him, head tilting as she catches sight of something nearby. "See that?" she wonders as she reaches down for it.


“Oh you love it. Though I kind of wish you wore white now.” Jackson is grinning from ear to ear, not threatened, at all. He gives her a little nudge when she climbs out, but he’s too focused on the water to notice the mirror at first. “You see anything down there? I didn’t send you for a bath.” His tone is playful, joking, but he is curious. “Hmm?” He glances that way as the reflection catches his eye. “Oh fuck a mirror. We don’t have all night, Dovey.” Though he does look on curiously.


"Oh, a mirror." Damnit, you can't trust a Daeva with a mirror. Especially not this Daeva, and clearly not this mirror either. Dove goes to preen a little bit, but her eyes widen and she sees what's reflected. Shrieking, the thing gets dropped and suddenly, in a flash, she's gone. Faster than Jackson remembers her being before. It isn't until she's been running for a minute and hits the road that she suddenly skids to a halt, shaking as she forces herself to stop. "Holy shit," she mutters to herself before looking back towards where Jackson is.


Jackson is somewhat pragmatic in a lot of situations. Call it being old. He watches her preen because he’s totally expecting it. Then she’s running away, and his mouth opens to make a joke. Like about her own reflection, but she’s way too fast. Brow raises, and his mouth shuts. “Well, shit.” HE calls after her. “Stop!” Very helpful. He looks down at the mirror, but not into it, and pulls his hand into his leather jacket to use it as a cloth, picking up the piece and tucking it into his pocket. He’s putting all the pieces together. Safe in water, pulled up, ripped open. Mirror, who knows. Oh yeah, Dove. He starts back up towards the bridge, not exactly running. It takes a while longer for Dove to job back towards Jackson, not bothering to celerity. She catches up with him halfway, checking his hands for signs of the mirror. "Something in the mirror," she explains with a deep frown. "Something not human in a way more than we aren't human. "They use the mirrors to spy on things here. Did you destroy it?" Nope, she didn't just run screaming, not at all. Her hair is wet, her entire outfit growing more frigid by the moment as the cold air sinks into soaked fabric. "That couldn't have been coincidence.


Jackson doesn’t seem worried about her. Maybe that seems callous, but he knows she’s hardy being what she is. And he’s simply not prone to bouts of heroism or needless recklessness in the name of honour. He chuckles, that grin already forming. “Yeah, I kind of guessed based on your reaction. I mean I see you often enough, and you still haven’t made me quite do that.” He holds up his hand, finger and thumb and inch apart. As if to suggest it’s been a close thing so far. A nod. “Yeah, I don’t think it was one of us that ripped the safe open either, but who knows?” He shakes his head, tapping his right pocket. “Nah, it could be useful. I’ll keep it locked up tight on the boat.” A look up the bridge. “What couldn’t have been coincidence. And can we get my shirt? Or did you lose it?”


Jackson doesn’t seem worried about her. Maybe that seems callous, but he knows she’s hardy being what she is. And he’s simply not prone to bouts of heroism or needless recklessness in the name of honour. He chuckles, that grin already forming. “Yeah, I kind of guessed based on your reaction. I mean I see you often enough, and you still haven’t made me quite do that.” He holds up his hand, finger and thumb and inch apart. As if to suggest it’s been a close thing so far. A nod. “Yeah, I don’t think it was one of us that ripped the safe open either, but who knows?” He shakes his head, tapping his right pocket. “Nah, it could be useful. I’ll keep it locked up tight on the boat.” A look up the bridge. “What couldn’t have been coincidence. And can we get my shirt? Or did you lose it?”


“No, you’re probably right. Nor do I think it’s a fuckin’ coincidence that this safe was here. Those boys from the car disappeared here. There’s only two track leaving and not three that entered. Or that that man hung himself here. That’s probably not all a coincidence.” Jackson’s put the pieces together on that part. He walks more up the embankment towards the bridge. “Man, you are literally the worst thing my wardrobe has ever faced. I’m starting to think you just want me to go shirtless.” Well, he pretty much knows that’s true. Her nudge gets her one back, but his is a little harder. Either because it’s funny or he doesn’t quite measure his own strength. Still it probably only causes a small stumble. “I don’t, but I’m going to put it in a safe. It should be fine, as long as you stop looking at it, I hope. And if not, well, let’s see who comes looking for it. I am very curious.” Not, maybe, as scared as he should be. “Plus where else am I going to keep it, that’s safe? That’s the safest place I can think of.” He gets to the bridge, searching for his shirt and spotting it. Dirty and indeed, tire stained. Though he pauses, looking towards the water. “That makes sense, it looks like it was pulled up by something. But then…” He contemplates. “That means it’s been there a while. Which doesn’t make sense, sicne I was suspecting it was from the boat...” His eyes flow back to the safe. Parchment. 100 years old. “Now what the fuck would be capable of that...and why?”


"You're the one who took your shirt off, buddy." Dove laughs as she stumbles, reaching out to grab his arm and steady herself. "I'll have you know that you've desstroyed way more of my clothes than the other way around, but it's true, I do prefer you without a shirt on. Anyone with eyes would." Dove follows along, listening to the pieces he's putting together, but still shaking her head at the thought of him keeping the mirror on the boat. "Dangerous. You're going to risk something tracking it and coming onto the boat during the day. Whatever opened that safe might be able to open the seal that locks you in at night. You should probably get someone to help watch the place during the day. One of The Boys, maybe?"


“You needed something to write on and do I look like a carry school supplies on me. Who tha fuck do you think I am?” Jackson says it all sarcastically, but also light-hearted. Clearly joking with her. “And that’s debatable.” About the clothes. Speaking of his shirt, he picks it up, and hands it over to Dove after shaking it off. It’s her picture and she does love to keep his clothes. A shrug. Still unworried. “Maybe. Guess I could get them to. Fuck, that’ll cost me.” A grin, he doesn’t actually seem to mind the cost. “I’ll tell bear he’s watching over you. Your own personal bodyguard.”


Dove looks up towards the sky as the thunder suddenly peels through the air. "We need to get going. There's going to be snow coming in fast." She pauses, frowning. "Something about a giant wave, too. I also have to do a better job on this face, and the face of the woman that I saw in the mirror. Maybe we can pinpoint what she is. But she's seen me now, and that's not a good thing." She takes his hand, starting to attempt to pull him along faster. "I think we both know that Bear would be way too busy staring at me to do any kind of protecting."


Jackson looks up. Thunder. It’s not particularly worrisome to him. He’s been on boats on the sea when the thunder has come. But his eyes rise to the sky, simply because he has never heard it peel quite like that. A brow raises slightly. The Beast stirs inside him, like most do. A slight growl. “So? It’s Winter.” He seems to point out rather nonchalantly. Eyes returns to her and she shrugs. “Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about it, too much. You got me.” He lets himself be pulled though, only because he has no more reason to be here, but not before he retrieves his marker. He pats his pocket, making sure the mirror is secure and goes along. “Well, not if he’s outside the door, guarding it.”


"I might not be able to catch pneumonia, Jacks, but I'm already really uncomfortable in these completely soaked clothes, in the freezing cold. The added snow is just going to make me more miserable. We've already determined that I'm not any fun when I'm miserable, yeah?" A compelling argument, certainly. She takes the shirt, draping it over herself as they make it back to the bike. "I just want to go home, slip into something comfortable, and drink some warm blood." Of course by home she means his.


“Pansy.” Jackson says that to her sidelong, his tone light, his grin shining. “As for fun, I rate is an easy five out of ten. So, not bad.” Jackson takes his shirt back from her, just for the moment, to take the mirror out of his pocket and wrap it up in that. “Just until we get back. He wants it covered and he wants it untouched. Call it being careful. Then he removes his coat and gives it to her. The shirt wrapped mirror goes into the glove box of his bike. He’s shirtless and will look like maniac driving in Winter like that, but it’s a minimal risk. “Let’s go then.” He climbs on the bike and revs it up.