xp_daytripper: (occult research assistant)
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Amanda turns up something odd and consults with Marie-Ange about it.



There was a brief knocking on the side of Marie-Ange's cubicle, Amanda standing there with a sheaf of printed pages in her hand. "Hey, Angie, you got a sec? Something weird's come up."

Marie-Ange held up one hand and finished typing out the last sentences of what looked to be a lengthy email, and then turned to face Amanda. "I do now. I can edit this later. What is 'up'?" She even made the little air quote gestures with her fingers. "And what sort of weird? Because that is such a vague statement for us."

Amanda came in and sat, as was her wont, on the edge of Marie-Ange's desk, booted feet swinging slightly. "What's up is a bunch of flghts," she explained, handing over the papers, which turned out to be passenger lists of various flights. "As in, more than normal between Rome and the Middle East. You're clued into the religious stuff, I figured I'd ask if there's anything on your radar. Maybe something like that Babble Tower thing again?"

"Ugh." Marie-Ange made a face at the list, and spread it out on her desk after shoving her keyboard and mouse and half-drunk cup of coffee over to one side. "If the current Pope were not such a closed-minded bigot, I would wonder if perhaps they were trying to open relations with the Muslim community." It was obvious it was both not likely and that Marie-Ange did not care for Pope Benedict.

Amanda snorted. "You mean Pope Sidious?" She'd obviously been reading Cracked on the internet during her lunch hours again to even make the joke. "Yeah, not likely. And these are all hush-hush flights - it took a bit of digging to get the whole list once I saw a pattern. You won't believe the favours I had to promise my bloke at the airport."

"Maybe he is trying to start the Crusades again?" Marie-Ange was not entirely serious about the suggestion, although it didn't seem entirely out of the realm of possibility for a Pope who had once been the head of the Inquisition, even in the modern incarnation of the office. "Speaking frankly, I am not certain it has anything to do with religion and possibly more to do with international relations. A modern Crusade would not be successful in the Middle East. In the Americas, perhaps..." There were enough certainly devout Catholics in South America.

"I'll check around, see if anyone's got anything cropping up in the Middle East that might be worth all this effort from Rome," Amanda suggested. "Go at it from the other end, maybe see if we can't meet up in the middle? It's probably nothing major, maybe a hunk of Biblically-aged rock like that house that was unearthed in Bethlehem last month."

"I can do that. That priest in the Archives still owes us a favor, I can see if anything has come up." Marie-Ange said. "Wanda may know if anything has turned up in that part of the world as well, at least if someone has dug it up out of the ground." She made a sour face and eyed her cell phone. "I should possibly..." the face went even more sour. "Call my mother. She has all of those Catholicism Today magazines. I would hate to overlook something simple and stupid hidden right in plain sight."

Amanda patted her friend on the shoulder sympathetically. "Let me know when you do and I'll drag you out for a post-traumatic coffee and pastry from that cafe down the road," she promised. "And I'll owe you on next time you have a magical woobie that needs checking out."

"I think I am going to get this done and over with." Marie-Ange said. "On the bright side, it may give me a stay of execution on the lecture about how I did not go to Mass at all while I was visiting. On the dark side, I am going to have a pile of boring religion magazines in my mailbox." Worse, she was going to have to convince her mother to send them next-day, and that was going to start the 'Oh, are you going back to the Church?" discussion all over again.

"If it helps any, I'll probably have to try and talk to Farouk," the witch replied. "Since he's got his feelers over there." She seemed less than thrilled about the prospect. "Which means some sort of deal since he never does anything for nothing."

"You win." Marie-Ange said. "But can you please never use the word feelers in the same conversation as Doctor Farouk? Because then I picture him as some kind of millipede with all sorts of fuzzy insect legs and that is icky." Also all too accurate, she thought, or at least, that was her perception of his astral parasite.

"You know, if that thing in Paris had got him, he might have had feelers and all," Amanda teased, wigging her fingers at the red-head. "Or even worse... tentacles."

"Ew. Ew ew ew." Marie-Ange covered her eyes with one hand and waved the other in Amanda's direction. "I saw a Japanese cartoon movie about that and I do not want to think about Doctor Farouk and tentacles -ever-. It would be like a ... a ... walrus octopus. He has that mustache..."

That was enough to make Amanda lose it. She burst into helpless giggles at the mental image, flapping her hands. "Oh fuck, I'm never going to be able to talk to him in person ever again!" she spluttered. "He'll pick up that image out of my head no trouble!"
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