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xp_logsTwo logs from Wednesday morning. In the first, after this suggestion by Forge, Amanda adds to the mansion's security. Too bad someone forgot to warn Cain.
It had been simple, in the end. Once she'd changed her mode of thinking from expecting everything to be the same to fitting it in with the new power source, adapting old spells was coming easier. And Forge's call had come at as good a time as any for her to try out the latest research. Illyana's loss of Limbo made the school a target for demon invasion - what better excuse?
Raising the spray can, she traced out another pattern of lines, one part warding glyph, one part graffiti tag. Either way the message was the same - "Keep Out".
"Tell me that I'm crazy or there's some weird psychic whammy going on or something, because I know there's no reason on God's green Earth that I would come out and find you spray-painting up my house."
Cain seemed to almost materialize from the woodline, walking purposefully towards Amanda. "What, did they run out of perfectly good walls in Manhattan?"
Amanda let out a most undignified yelp and dropped the can. She'd assumed Forge had warned people what she was doing, but of course, Cain had a sixth sense when it came to the house. And it wasn't like she was spraying the wards in highly-visible areas... just one each side of the (extremely large) building, to seal the spell. "Bloody hell, Cain, you gave me a sodding heart attack..." she began, but the look on his face prompted explanations, fast. "Protection magic. Forge asked me, after this whole Limbo thing. I know it's a bit different to the last one, but that's how things work these days," she babbled, waiting for the inevitable yelling.
Cain paused, mouth half open and finger extended, scathing diatribe at the ready. Something Amanda said, though, gave him a moment's pause.
Limbo.
That Hell dimension that Illyana runs. Or used to.
That place where you had her send you so you could punch the holy hell out of a god.
"Well, shit..." Cain breathed, suddenly coming to a stark realization. "You're telling me this is some kinda, what, magic barbed wire fence to keep the nasties out? That's kind of --"
He stopped again, peering at the glyph, tilting his head from side to side. "'To enshroud this dwelling from those not of this world'? That's... that ain't English. Why can I read that?"
She blinked at him. "Yeah. Like I said, Forge asked... Wait, you can read that? 'S not even a proper language, 's three different ones mixed up to make the ward. And since when were you the magic master?" The need to flee was overwhelmed by the need to know.
"I didn't even believe in the shit until I kinda had it shoved into me. Literally," Cain explained absently, taking a knee in the grass by the side of the house. Extending a finger, he traced the lines. "I don't know why, but this makes sense. This bit here, that's this part of the house? East, I'm guessing? You got a circle that's connecting it to what, other parts? Like fence posts. This here bit's the protection part and yeah, it's different from the rest. And this here - I ain't sure, it just seems like it makes sense up here." He tapped one finger against the side of his head.
"Yeah, that's right." Even down on one knee, Cain was still taller than her as she moved to join him at the wall, scooping up the can again. "One on each side, north, south, east and west, so I get full coverage. I couldn't do the warning system this time, since it needs someone adept to actually feel it breaking, so I put in a bit more on the actual warding. Anything coming through the wards that's not of this world? Well, you'll know about it. Usually from the fireworks and the screaming." Amanda scratched absently at her peeling nose. "'M buggered as to why you can see all that tho'."
Cain suddenly flashed back to the words spoken by those strange entities that had appeared after he'd defeated Cyttorak. The power is yours. Be who you are.
"Just instinct, I guess. Learnin' new things every day. So hey, do these gotta be out in the open? Because, y'know, mystic protection or not, it's a bit of an eyesore."
"You have no artistic soul, Cain," Amanda replied, raising an eyebrow at the change in subject, but letting it lie. The thing she'd learned over the years was not to dig into Marko's private business. It meant less hassle in terms of threats and the rest. When he looked less than amused at her quip, she shrugged "Doesn't have to be out in the open, no. I tried to pick spots that weren't so obvious, but it wasn't exactly easy when I had to get all four sides." She grinned. "You could always get... a shrubbery!"
"Suppose that'd work," Cain said thoughtfully, completely missing the reference. "Or just train the ivy down over them."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "I swear, one day I'm gunna sit you down with a case of beer and 'The Holy Grail' and educate you in humour," she grumbled. "But yeah, ivy'd work fine. As long as it doesn't damage the wards, covering it up is fine and dandy."
"Excellent," Cain said, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans. "Protected from the mystic wabbo jabbos and still looking decent. And I know humor, dammit. One of these days I'm going to introduce these kids to what real funny was, back in the day before everyone was working blue on prime time television." He rolled his eyes, then shrugged. "And yeah, I know, there goes the old grump talkin' about how it was in the days before color TV and the internet."
"And I bet you lived in a shoebox in middle o' t' road, too," Amanda replied.
Cain snorted and looked down at Amanda. "This new magic teach you how to float? Because there's a little witch who's just begging to take a swim..."
Her grin faded, and she backed away, holding her hands up. "Um, funny you should mention learning to float. Or sim, even. 'Cause I don't do either that well. Say, how about them local sports teams? Oh, look! Aliens!" She pointed wildly over Cain's head. "And I've got a meeting with a pyro, and you know how cranky they can get when you keep them waiting..."
"Go on, get," Cain said with a smile, waving Amanda off. "Suppose I can go see where else you've been scribbling, see if I can't make it a little less obvious. But in all seriousness... thanks. A lot of weird shit's liable to come down on us eventually. Helps to have an umbrella."
"Just call me the weather girl," she grinned, pleased at the thanks. "Catch you later, Cain. Thanks for not smooshing me."
After her near-smooshing experience, Amanda goes to honour this invitation made by John. It's a little disturbing how well they get on when she's not keeping him awake all hours.
The yawn was followed by a quick rub of his left eye and a sniffle.
"Coffee?" John poured Amanda a cup without waiting for an answer. He dropped an ashtray on the table and took a seat on the other end of the couch. "Sorry, it's a little messy in here," he said, spooning massive amounts of sugar into his coffee. It was an understatement, really. The hall was littered with crumpled pieces of paper, empty beer bottles, stacks of books, random clothing and boxes. A hell of a lot of boxes. He hadn't bothered to unpack.
"Ta." Amanda waited until he was done with the sugar and then did the same, adding enough sugar to make Lorna scream and flee. She was getting the hang of coffee, working for Snow Valley, but only under particular circumstances. "Don't worry 'bout it - moving tends to make mess. You should have seen the brownstone; took weeks for us all to get settled, and Angie's still taking her apartment apart and putting it back together. I think it's turned into a hobby now." Digging in her pocket for her cigarettes - yay for a fellow smoker who didn't mind! - Amanda gave John an amused look. "I'll spare you the question everyone else has probably asked about you moving back. How're you settling in?"
He swept a glance around the room and then arched an eyebrow at her. "You're experiencing it firsthand, missy." John opened a pack of almond biscottis and placed it between them. "What's with the sunburn?"
"Work trip. A screw up with the travel agency left us high and dry in Uganda and I didn't have the sunscreen on me," Amanda said with a careless shrug, mindful of Remy's warnings. "The joys of mutant consultancy."
"Hey, you're an all productive member of society." John smirked. "Even your sunburn's chalked down to some pretty serious business." For most people, it would've either been a beach thing or a freak accident at the tanning salon.
"That's me. Object lesson in rehabilitation and all." Amanda lit a cigarette with a grin of her own, and offerred the pack to John. "What about you? Fighting the inevitable descent into teaching here? The kids are giving you some interesting odds, from what I overhear on the bus run."
"Oh, I have every confidence in my ability to up and run." He pulled a stick out with a nod in thanks and lighted it up. "But well, a chance at corrupting young and innocent minds..." John let out a low whistle. "Sounds like fun," he intoned.
"If only if it's someone to teach 'em how not to get caught drinking underage," she remarked wryly, amused. "I swear, Monet hasn't got the sense of a goldfish sometimes - gets distracted by the shiny too much. And I'm disappointed in Jennie - thought Wanda had taught her sneakier than that." She took a sip of her coffee, and went on. "So the rumours are true, then? You're looking at some sort of teaching degree at college?"
Monet. Jennie. John didn't know who they were but they sounded - asinine. He took a quick pull of his cigarette and shook his head. "Bachelor of Social Sciences, actually," he clarified. "Majoring in Political Science and Philosophy?" He tapped the ashes off into his cup. "Took up Education Studies as a supporting subject though." He scratched a finger against his forehead. "Innovative approaches to the teaching - learning process, social and development psychology, the purpose of education. It's bullshit, really."
He turned his gaze on her. "What about yourself?"
"This'll blow your mind - social work. Focussing on young mutants eventually." There was only a hint of the embarrassment she'd used to have when disclosing her major. "Part time, since I'm working at Snow Valley with Doug and Angie and the rest."
"Well, there are a lot of kids out there who could benefit from being placed at Xavier's. You could be a real asset," John said. "Families don't know how to deal and most kids end up as runaways or they spend a good amount of their time in juvie courts, right?" He stubbed his cigarette out before lighting another one. "Personally though, I wouldn't be able to handle dealing with fucked up parents. Most likely, I'd end up torching them if they piss me off enough." He glanced over at her. "So you've found your niche at Snow Valley?"
"We'll see. At this stage, I'm just working on finishing the study. And juggling work, plus social life, plus doing the weekly bus run into New York for the kids - they need a regular way off the grounds, and I took the job on." Taking a deep drag of her cigarette, she nodded in response to the last question. "You know, I really have? It seemed at first they took me on just to keep an eye on me after the complete fuck up I'd made of things here in my last year, but I'm good at it. Even the parts where I have to talk to nutjob wankers trying to tell me mutants are trying to eat the President's brain or something." She chuckled. "Somewhere along the line we both got respectable. How the hell did that happen?"
John snorted. "Speak for yourself, Mandy." He pulled a waste paper basket toward him, poured the remains of his coffee into it and then refilled his cup again. "So whatever happened to that other guy you were sleepin' with?" He smirked. "My ex-roomie?"
"Sorry, didn't mean to damage your rep there, St John," she replied. Her grin faded at the question, however. "Manuel. It... ended badly, and he went off the rails a bit. Got himself into some trouble in Europe trying to help out a couple of mates, and... got hit by a truck. He's been in a coma ever since - they ended up taking him to Muir." She looked down at her hands, cradling the cup, her expression regretful. "They don't know what'll end up happening to him at this point. The head injuries were pretty bad."
He pressed his lips together with a slight raise of his eyebrows at hearing the news.
"That's too bad." John sipped on his coffee.
"Yeah. It is." Amanda took another drag, a longer one this time, before looking up at John. "Hazards of the lifestyle, I s'pose. At least he's in the best place for what he needs." She smiled sadly. "Most of the folks 'round here still think he's Satan incarnate, of course. Any way." She shrugged. "Sorry to bring the tone down. You gunna be working with any of the students powers-wise? We've got a couple of fire-related kids. Angel, that French girl Elaine..."
"Yeah, blatant disregard for human life here, remember?," John was to quick to say, managing a wry smile as he looked at her. He shrugged at her question. "Haven't got any word from the higher-ups just yet. But I ain't exactly holdin' my breath."
"Hmm." Amanda wasn't fooled by the attitude - it mirrored her own, back when she was younger and sometimes even now. But she wasn't going to insult him by questioning it. They all had their masks, and their reasons for them. "Holding pattern right now - they're probably waiting to see how you settle in before they throw that at you."
"That's a good thing too since I've been known to cut and run," John responded with a chuckle. "So what's next in line for you, trooper? We all know there's an increasingly alarming number of people getting hitched these days..."
It had been simple, in the end. Once she'd changed her mode of thinking from expecting everything to be the same to fitting it in with the new power source, adapting old spells was coming easier. And Forge's call had come at as good a time as any for her to try out the latest research. Illyana's loss of Limbo made the school a target for demon invasion - what better excuse?
Raising the spray can, she traced out another pattern of lines, one part warding glyph, one part graffiti tag. Either way the message was the same - "Keep Out".
"Tell me that I'm crazy or there's some weird psychic whammy going on or something, because I know there's no reason on God's green Earth that I would come out and find you spray-painting up my house."
Cain seemed to almost materialize from the woodline, walking purposefully towards Amanda. "What, did they run out of perfectly good walls in Manhattan?"
Amanda let out a most undignified yelp and dropped the can. She'd assumed Forge had warned people what she was doing, but of course, Cain had a sixth sense when it came to the house. And it wasn't like she was spraying the wards in highly-visible areas... just one each side of the (extremely large) building, to seal the spell. "Bloody hell, Cain, you gave me a sodding heart attack..." she began, but the look on his face prompted explanations, fast. "Protection magic. Forge asked me, after this whole Limbo thing. I know it's a bit different to the last one, but that's how things work these days," she babbled, waiting for the inevitable yelling.
Cain paused, mouth half open and finger extended, scathing diatribe at the ready. Something Amanda said, though, gave him a moment's pause.
Limbo.
That Hell dimension that Illyana runs. Or used to.
That place where you had her send you so you could punch the holy hell out of a god.
"Well, shit..." Cain breathed, suddenly coming to a stark realization. "You're telling me this is some kinda, what, magic barbed wire fence to keep the nasties out? That's kind of --"
He stopped again, peering at the glyph, tilting his head from side to side. "'To enshroud this dwelling from those not of this world'? That's... that ain't English. Why can I read that?"
She blinked at him. "Yeah. Like I said, Forge asked... Wait, you can read that? 'S not even a proper language, 's three different ones mixed up to make the ward. And since when were you the magic master?" The need to flee was overwhelmed by the need to know.
"I didn't even believe in the shit until I kinda had it shoved into me. Literally," Cain explained absently, taking a knee in the grass by the side of the house. Extending a finger, he traced the lines. "I don't know why, but this makes sense. This bit here, that's this part of the house? East, I'm guessing? You got a circle that's connecting it to what, other parts? Like fence posts. This here bit's the protection part and yeah, it's different from the rest. And this here - I ain't sure, it just seems like it makes sense up here." He tapped one finger against the side of his head.
"Yeah, that's right." Even down on one knee, Cain was still taller than her as she moved to join him at the wall, scooping up the can again. "One on each side, north, south, east and west, so I get full coverage. I couldn't do the warning system this time, since it needs someone adept to actually feel it breaking, so I put in a bit more on the actual warding. Anything coming through the wards that's not of this world? Well, you'll know about it. Usually from the fireworks and the screaming." Amanda scratched absently at her peeling nose. "'M buggered as to why you can see all that tho'."
Cain suddenly flashed back to the words spoken by those strange entities that had appeared after he'd defeated Cyttorak. The power is yours. Be who you are.
"Just instinct, I guess. Learnin' new things every day. So hey, do these gotta be out in the open? Because, y'know, mystic protection or not, it's a bit of an eyesore."
"You have no artistic soul, Cain," Amanda replied, raising an eyebrow at the change in subject, but letting it lie. The thing she'd learned over the years was not to dig into Marko's private business. It meant less hassle in terms of threats and the rest. When he looked less than amused at her quip, she shrugged "Doesn't have to be out in the open, no. I tried to pick spots that weren't so obvious, but it wasn't exactly easy when I had to get all four sides." She grinned. "You could always get... a shrubbery!"
"Suppose that'd work," Cain said thoughtfully, completely missing the reference. "Or just train the ivy down over them."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "I swear, one day I'm gunna sit you down with a case of beer and 'The Holy Grail' and educate you in humour," she grumbled. "But yeah, ivy'd work fine. As long as it doesn't damage the wards, covering it up is fine and dandy."
"Excellent," Cain said, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans. "Protected from the mystic wabbo jabbos and still looking decent. And I know humor, dammit. One of these days I'm going to introduce these kids to what real funny was, back in the day before everyone was working blue on prime time television." He rolled his eyes, then shrugged. "And yeah, I know, there goes the old grump talkin' about how it was in the days before color TV and the internet."
"And I bet you lived in a shoebox in middle o' t' road, too," Amanda replied.
Cain snorted and looked down at Amanda. "This new magic teach you how to float? Because there's a little witch who's just begging to take a swim..."
Her grin faded, and she backed away, holding her hands up. "Um, funny you should mention learning to float. Or sim, even. 'Cause I don't do either that well. Say, how about them local sports teams? Oh, look! Aliens!" She pointed wildly over Cain's head. "And I've got a meeting with a pyro, and you know how cranky they can get when you keep them waiting..."
"Go on, get," Cain said with a smile, waving Amanda off. "Suppose I can go see where else you've been scribbling, see if I can't make it a little less obvious. But in all seriousness... thanks. A lot of weird shit's liable to come down on us eventually. Helps to have an umbrella."
"Just call me the weather girl," she grinned, pleased at the thanks. "Catch you later, Cain. Thanks for not smooshing me."
After her near-smooshing experience, Amanda goes to honour this invitation made by John. It's a little disturbing how well they get on when she's not keeping him awake all hours.
The yawn was followed by a quick rub of his left eye and a sniffle.
"Coffee?" John poured Amanda a cup without waiting for an answer. He dropped an ashtray on the table and took a seat on the other end of the couch. "Sorry, it's a little messy in here," he said, spooning massive amounts of sugar into his coffee. It was an understatement, really. The hall was littered with crumpled pieces of paper, empty beer bottles, stacks of books, random clothing and boxes. A hell of a lot of boxes. He hadn't bothered to unpack.
"Ta." Amanda waited until he was done with the sugar and then did the same, adding enough sugar to make Lorna scream and flee. She was getting the hang of coffee, working for Snow Valley, but only under particular circumstances. "Don't worry 'bout it - moving tends to make mess. You should have seen the brownstone; took weeks for us all to get settled, and Angie's still taking her apartment apart and putting it back together. I think it's turned into a hobby now." Digging in her pocket for her cigarettes - yay for a fellow smoker who didn't mind! - Amanda gave John an amused look. "I'll spare you the question everyone else has probably asked about you moving back. How're you settling in?"
He swept a glance around the room and then arched an eyebrow at her. "You're experiencing it firsthand, missy." John opened a pack of almond biscottis and placed it between them. "What's with the sunburn?"
"Work trip. A screw up with the travel agency left us high and dry in Uganda and I didn't have the sunscreen on me," Amanda said with a careless shrug, mindful of Remy's warnings. "The joys of mutant consultancy."
"Hey, you're an all productive member of society." John smirked. "Even your sunburn's chalked down to some pretty serious business." For most people, it would've either been a beach thing or a freak accident at the tanning salon.
"That's me. Object lesson in rehabilitation and all." Amanda lit a cigarette with a grin of her own, and offerred the pack to John. "What about you? Fighting the inevitable descent into teaching here? The kids are giving you some interesting odds, from what I overhear on the bus run."
"Oh, I have every confidence in my ability to up and run." He pulled a stick out with a nod in thanks and lighted it up. "But well, a chance at corrupting young and innocent minds..." John let out a low whistle. "Sounds like fun," he intoned.
"If only if it's someone to teach 'em how not to get caught drinking underage," she remarked wryly, amused. "I swear, Monet hasn't got the sense of a goldfish sometimes - gets distracted by the shiny too much. And I'm disappointed in Jennie - thought Wanda had taught her sneakier than that." She took a sip of her coffee, and went on. "So the rumours are true, then? You're looking at some sort of teaching degree at college?"
Monet. Jennie. John didn't know who they were but they sounded - asinine. He took a quick pull of his cigarette and shook his head. "Bachelor of Social Sciences, actually," he clarified. "Majoring in Political Science and Philosophy?" He tapped the ashes off into his cup. "Took up Education Studies as a supporting subject though." He scratched a finger against his forehead. "Innovative approaches to the teaching - learning process, social and development psychology, the purpose of education. It's bullshit, really."
He turned his gaze on her. "What about yourself?"
"This'll blow your mind - social work. Focussing on young mutants eventually." There was only a hint of the embarrassment she'd used to have when disclosing her major. "Part time, since I'm working at Snow Valley with Doug and Angie and the rest."
"Well, there are a lot of kids out there who could benefit from being placed at Xavier's. You could be a real asset," John said. "Families don't know how to deal and most kids end up as runaways or they spend a good amount of their time in juvie courts, right?" He stubbed his cigarette out before lighting another one. "Personally though, I wouldn't be able to handle dealing with fucked up parents. Most likely, I'd end up torching them if they piss me off enough." He glanced over at her. "So you've found your niche at Snow Valley?"
"We'll see. At this stage, I'm just working on finishing the study. And juggling work, plus social life, plus doing the weekly bus run into New York for the kids - they need a regular way off the grounds, and I took the job on." Taking a deep drag of her cigarette, she nodded in response to the last question. "You know, I really have? It seemed at first they took me on just to keep an eye on me after the complete fuck up I'd made of things here in my last year, but I'm good at it. Even the parts where I have to talk to nutjob wankers trying to tell me mutants are trying to eat the President's brain or something." She chuckled. "Somewhere along the line we both got respectable. How the hell did that happen?"
John snorted. "Speak for yourself, Mandy." He pulled a waste paper basket toward him, poured the remains of his coffee into it and then refilled his cup again. "So whatever happened to that other guy you were sleepin' with?" He smirked. "My ex-roomie?"
"Sorry, didn't mean to damage your rep there, St John," she replied. Her grin faded at the question, however. "Manuel. It... ended badly, and he went off the rails a bit. Got himself into some trouble in Europe trying to help out a couple of mates, and... got hit by a truck. He's been in a coma ever since - they ended up taking him to Muir." She looked down at her hands, cradling the cup, her expression regretful. "They don't know what'll end up happening to him at this point. The head injuries were pretty bad."
He pressed his lips together with a slight raise of his eyebrows at hearing the news.
"That's too bad." John sipped on his coffee.
"Yeah. It is." Amanda took another drag, a longer one this time, before looking up at John. "Hazards of the lifestyle, I s'pose. At least he's in the best place for what he needs." She smiled sadly. "Most of the folks 'round here still think he's Satan incarnate, of course. Any way." She shrugged. "Sorry to bring the tone down. You gunna be working with any of the students powers-wise? We've got a couple of fire-related kids. Angel, that French girl Elaine..."
"Yeah, blatant disregard for human life here, remember?," John was to quick to say, managing a wry smile as he looked at her. He shrugged at her question. "Haven't got any word from the higher-ups just yet. But I ain't exactly holdin' my breath."
"Hmm." Amanda wasn't fooled by the attitude - it mirrored her own, back when she was younger and sometimes even now. But she wasn't going to insult him by questioning it. They all had their masks, and their reasons for them. "Holding pattern right now - they're probably waiting to see how you settle in before they throw that at you."
"That's a good thing too since I've been known to cut and run," John responded with a chuckle. "So what's next in line for you, trooper? We all know there's an increasingly alarming number of people getting hitched these days..."
