And fitted to a frame

October 15, 2014: The Wall comes to visit with news of a mission.

Keith and Miguel's Apartment

The apartment is not spacious, but it is adequare for what it is: a place for
two young upcoming heroes. The most noticeable thing is that, aside from two
futons, a book case and some personal effects and essential pieces of
furniture such as clothing storage, the apartment itself is rather Spartan in
its furnishings. It makes sense, in a way, since the owners can create any
piece of furniture they want or need and then simply dismiss it.



  • None

Mood Music:
La Fortezza dei Grandi Perche

To some, it would seem rather amusing to find Keith confined to such a small area as that of a wide circle of salt, expertly traced around his futon bed. 'Stir Crazy' is only a mild understatement for how he feels. It isn't so bad when Gar is here, which is most of the time due to having given notice at the university that he was going to be absent until the current crisis was over.

He has to wonder what exactly he told his advisor. 'I'm sorry, but my boyfriend's soul has been ripped apart by druids with glass swords and they tore a fairy cat out of him which, currently, is about to cause unprecedented mayhem in Gotham… and incidentally said boyfriend is now dying unless we can piece the two souls together.'

Laying on his futon, arms behind his head, Keith has to smirk despite himself. Knowing Gar, he could have said that. And his advisor, knowing who Gar was, would probably have believed him instead of calling for Campus Services to report yet another Grad student who had gone completely crazy.

He reaches for the jug next to him and pours himself some more of that herbal tea that Gar had prepared. The green guy had to go and take care of something- and Keith insisted that he go, because he needed to get some air and take a walk instead of staying cooped up in the apartment. There was no need for both of them to go stir crazy, after all.

When the Weatherman pays someone an unsanctioned visit, a lot of preparation has to go into her not being followed. Jeans. Check. Bullet proof vest. Check. Timer put on three hours. Check. Throwing knives, daggers, pistols. Check. Unmarked vehicle. Check. Grappling hooks. Wait. What?


It possibly would be the first sound that Keith would hear outside the window, along with a whirring sound of leather against rope that holds The Wall as she springs down the building.


Her boots against the window as one hand releases the rope to push it aside, to climb in as easy as most, as if she had lived there all along.

It takes a certain person to be that comfortable when walking into someones apartment unnannounced; gazed stoned as she looks about the spartan room, half expecting something more colorful to match the attitude and mood of the Vorpal. She had a bag upon her back, one that was slung from a shoulder and dropped to the ground in front of her, the rope laid the same way as she intends to leave exactly the way she came. Above, over, under, below. This was Gotham, of course. Putting her feet on the ground here almost meant mayhem. Almost.

"What are you, sick?" She asks, crossing the floor to pull up a chair, which is soon set near the bag she left behind and dropped upon, back of the chair near her front so her arms had something to rest upon. "Didn't know you types needed salt circles when you're sick. I'll make a note of it."

Keith starts at first at the sound… but he's not exactly alarmed. Robin is a frequent visitor, and there's grappling hooks and all sorts of things involved in a visit from a Bat-person. What he is most certainly not expecting is the person who actually comes into his room.

He almost rolls off his futon, eyes wide as he tries to sit up quickly.

"Miss Waller—" Keith says, a little self conscious. Thank goodness he's not in his underoos- shorts and tank top, sure. He gets an inkling to ask about the bag… but he simply answers the question.

"Sick? Not exactly. Dying. Sort of." He looks at the salt circle. "That's there so I don't drain out faster than I should. Or at least that's what Gar says it'll do."

"Dying?" Amanda's face scrunches up, being drained? Still a new one to add to Vorpal's file; something to make note of later, again. But, if he was dying, there really wasn't a point in her staying, so there was a thought of her getting up and leaving without so much as a goodbye, but tonight? She was in an odd place. Feeling.. nice.

"Oh." That's all she really had for that for now, with that said, she leans back just enough to drag the bag up and into her lap, unzipping it and pulling out two packs of honey buns. Weird, right? T'was her mood for the night. Honey buns, chocolate milk, and hot cheetoes. Bad mix for the belly, but her stomach was as strong as her will.

One frosted covered honey bun was chucked towards Vorpal, the other brought out of the bag for her to pry open, her eyes lifting to meet his if he glanced her way. "Assuming that you aren't going to die next week. I have a mission for you and Gar. Though, I'm thinking of not actually going forward with you two in mind, given your current condition."

Okay, she couldn't help it. "What's killing you. Anything I can do." None of those words were posed as a question, but it was flat, and a wee bit forced.

Honey buns. Keith catches it and almost seems to be ready to have an epiphany. Gar has been feeding him 'healthy stuff' throughout this ordeal. The redhead grins and would hug the bun, if he could without getting sticky, "Oh god, thanks, you have no idea how much I've been craving this…"

The question, though, bring the young man back into focus. He brushes his hair away from his face, and Amanda may notice that his eyes are different than the last time she saw his human form. They're not bright emerald green… they're, well, very human-looking, in their shade of green. Pale by comparison of what they were.

"There's a circle of mystics called the Circle Oroboros. They've been hunting me for days… they wanted to… succeeded in tearing the Cait Sidhe out of my soul."

He looks down at the bun, appetite suddenly diminished. "As a result, the Cait Sidhe is now loose in Gotham, which isn't a good thing. And I'm dying, because my soul repends on his to survive. So I'm… bleeding out. Gar… isn't in a good spot." He rubs his forehead. "We're trying to trace someone by the name of Doctor Strange. Another by the name of John Constantine… they're wizards, people who could help. More experience than Zachary and Zatanna… but we've had no luck so far…"

Amanda smiled a little. Just a little, but what he said next, it was serious. She actually cared for the weird guy in some sort of way, but she wouldn't dare tell him that. She still wanted to ruin him, not in a bad way, but to wake him up to the ways of the world, to politics, everything else. Almost like grooming. But no, not today. Whatever plans she had was going to be put on hold until he was better.

So she stood from her chair, the bag still with her as she crossed the room to the bed. She was careful to not muss up the salt, her movements so light that it would be hard to pick her up unless one was supernatural. She was careful when she sat upon the bed, even being nice about it by kicking her shoes off. The bag of goodies? Rested in between them, but there was a hint of sadness because she forgot the pineapple, frickin soda.

"I see."

Wizards. Nasty lot.

"I rescind my offer to help. I'm sure that if that cait sidhe sees anything related to me, it may go berserk. I have enough on my plate, as do you. But.." There was a thought. He was the omnipotent. A teacher. A talker. He may know of these two or how to find them. "Do not tell anyone that I told you of him. Or that I know him. He is a big.. bird thing. Weird looking." Her hand waves dismissively. "The.. Corbin? Corvinus? Whatever. If you find him, I'm sure he can find those two for you." Finally, she bites into her honey bun. "Eat."

"I don't blame you in the least," Keith says when she rescinds the offer, "How does that go? Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are smelly and full of… something." He waves his hand a little. He nods and thanks Amanda, and helps himself to a bite from the bun.

"The Cait Sidhe does not hate you, as I don't. But he is a creature of chaos. Not evil… but he can't stand order. Anything of that sort, he has to change… alter. So while he may not be perpetrating evil, he will do things that will benefit and empower anyone who may challenge a status quo." Keith sighs and shakes his head. And then his attention is called to Corvinus.

"Corvinus! I know of whom you speak-" Keith is quiet now, nibbling into the bun. "It was… he is the most surreal creature I've met yet." And those are big words, coming from someone who until recently could transform into a bipedal purple cat and who dates a man who can turn into a green version of every animal on earth.


That was the first word that came to Amanda's mind. And she laughed. A quiet one, one that had her ducking her head and pressing the back of her hand to her lips to quiet down the brief gigglefit with just that one word. She breathes in loudly, her head tossing back as she shakes her head. "I've never heard that one, to be honest."

Hearing more and more about the Cait? She was actually kind of interested. Seeing it up close would be a nice little option, but if caught? Bad. She was order, no less. But still, she was also chaos, and often times stepping out of her own role.. just as she had done here.

She shared his sentiments with Corvinus, however. That thing obviously creeped her out, so much that she tried not to be associated with it. But.. things couldn't be helped. "Yeah.." She grew quiet as well, nibbling and chewing, the only sound from her direction is the crinkling of paper. "I understand it. But yet I don't. I think it is the honesty in that creature that I understand. But not the motives. Everything in him is.." She grew quiet, searching for words that would properly fit the.. being. "..I don't know. Heavy."

Keith finds himself laughing as well. It feels good- whistling past the graveyard, trying to forget one's mortality and impending doom is part of human nature, after all. "I think 'shit' works. Though don't tell Zatanna that, she is full of sequins."

He looks at the woman as she muses on Corvinus. "Talking to him is like going up to your chin in a river of philosophy. But the river is honey, thick and molassy, and you can't really move around it, you have to sort of push. He speaks in riddles, and sometimes they're even beyond me when I had the Cait Sidhe plugged into my soul. And that creature loves riddles!"

"I've yet to meet your other friends. Or crew members. Or what have you." There was a beat. "Let's keep it that way." Lord knows, she didn't want to care about anyone else. Heavy is the heart, and all of that. But still!

His words fit Corvinus perfectly, each syllable was nodded and agreed with, she even seemed to carry that glazed over look in thought, lips pursing hard enough to cause lines of stress to form in her face, until she suddently blurts out.

"There was a time when I wanted to punch him. Knock his ass into the middle of next week because I couldn't possibly understand what the hell was coming out of his fool mouth." Confessions from the bold.

"Mayhaps next time. Punch him, shoot him a few times, then feed him chinese." Yeah, she's -yet- to tell anyone about that little incident. Him being fed bowls upon bowls of asian cookery until his body physically healed. It was frightening, to say the least. "Very few things keep me up at night, Keith." Ayup, she used his name.

"But that damned bird and his roundabout ways of speech just.." She gestures at her chest. "Fuck with me." A beat. "Excuse my language."

Gar Logan has been out in the world, doing that thing that one must do: No, not laundry. Shopping. The OTHER thing one must do. He's run out of the herbs and roots that he normally uses to make his healing tea and the poultice that fixes bruises fast, so he's been off to the WEIRD hippie markets, as well. But eventually he's gotten back to the apartment. Stopping outside, he sniffs… That's definitely not just Keith's scent. Huh. Well who'd've thought … she must've heard from someone. Maybe that over-the-top Batman troper that was helping kill druids.

"Honey, I'm HOME," Gar says, opening the door. He's carrying a big box of groceries and such. He grins at that last remark. "You've met the Corvinus. I can tell."

"I know what you mean," Keith agrees quietly. "The storm—" the thing that Corvinus had hinted at that disturbed him.

And then Gar comes home to find him and Amanda sitting on his futon, eating. "Gar!" Keith says, and quickly nibbles the rest of his bun- there wasn't much left of it by then, anyways. But to explain Gar knowing who exactly it was that they were speaking of, Keith turns to Amanda. "We met him together, you see…"

There was a quick glance to the door as Gar walks in, her brows lifted and.. soon a honey bun was lifted in greeting too.

And then he mentions The Corvinus.

And she cringes, deeply. Just when Keith was about to explain the entire story, she holds up a hand and shakes her head rather quickly. "Please. No more. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need to talk to him soon about that whole 'Smooth' debacle, I'd rather go in with a clear head and.." Her hands shake free of the whole mess, almost as if she were icked out about it. She'd rather speak to his human suit, than the thing inside of it.

"There's another honey bun in the bag if you want one. And a large bag of hot cheetoes. Coupl'a bottles of chocolate milk. It's a party. Sort of." Not really, she was going to steal them away for a few days, possibly weeks. "But since you're here.. let's talk and get this thing out in the open so you both can decide on what to do." Keith's death? Not an option, doesn't fit Amanda's schedule.

"Thanks. Let me put groceries away here," Gar says. He begins packing things from the box into various places, including — well, if Ms. Waller is here, then one of those places is definitely the freezer for the raw pork roast, because there won't be time to make that amazing chinese simmered thing that Gar was going to make for Keith. That'll be for later.

"What've you got in mind?" Gar says, setting the electric kettle going. Healing tea mix is NOT optional, as far as he's concerned.

"A mission, hon," Keith says, filling Gar in on what Amanda first said when she made her Bat-entrance. "Which the event of my death seems to be interfering with. I filled her in with what had happened, in very broad brushstrokes." It occurs to him that Gar would probably not agree to go on the mission while his 'situation' remained unsolved. "She suggested… you know who might be able to tell us where Doctor Strange is. Sort of expedite the information gathering so we can see if there's a fix for me."

She lets the two talk as she pulls the rather large bag of chips out to lay them upon the futon. Aside from that, two files were pulled from the bag as well, one for Gar, and the other for Keith. While it was great to share, it was good to have your own things, amirite?

"Yes, your death is a minor annoyance which will be avoided, of course. Eventually. The sooner you get into contact with.." She lets the name go. "..the better. Something.. like that -has- to know of someone who could potentially be important to anyone." Whether she knows if Corvinus knows the wizards? It's anyones guess. And for a tiny moment there? She even considered extending a helping hand.. again.

"About this mission, or task or what have you, it's pretty unusual. I know you two aren't about lethality, so I know that you two, most definitely, will handle things with care."

Gar grins at that statement of parameters, and accepts the file. He looks through it, and the water is ready, so he closes and replaces it, and pours the tea.

"Would you like some tea, Ma'am? It's pretty amazing stuff."

The smell of it is like something impossible - morning sunrise over the plains of Kenya, mixed with mint and the crackle of ice melting.

"We do unusual just well. You know, green shapeshifter, purple ca—" pauses. "WILL be a purple cat again. Because I'm not dying. We're going to get my soul back and then we're going to shove those glass swords up a druid's ass." Keith nods, and reaches for the binder, flipping through it.

He liked the word 'mission'. It meant 'shit that needs to get done'. He can't die, if he's on a mission. He must be successful in getting his soul back, or else the mission won't happen. That's what he tells himself, because it helps.

"Consider the mission accepted. Just… on a slight delay due to some hardware malfunctions that should be fixed."

Amanda fully shakes her head. "No thank you Garfield. My time is up. I don't want the calvary knowing where you two live, so I need to be on the move." With that said, she slips her feet off of the futon and right into her too cool boots. "Getting you back whole is your number one priority for now. I've been monitoring the situation, and it's clear it's in its early stages, but the evidence I provided you two is concrete."

She goes on to explain, of course.

"I don't want to say that you'll be saving the world, but you'll be saving millions of humans should this mission be successful. It's suicide, there may be casualties, and I'll have my team there to assist. I may even come myself, as I see threats to humans personal." She stands now, drawing the bag from the bed to slip upon a shoulder. "As natural, you'll be rewarded handsomely for this. And should you need my services, or Stormwatch, we'll be there. Just not for this one. It seems.. that this is something you have to do on your own." Sparing no fanfaire or speedy exit, she moves towards the window to throw the rope outside, and then heads to the door. She'll settle for the stairs, a brisk walk is in order.

"Travel safely," Gar says in a language he learned as a child… probably not one anyone speaks anymore. So many wars in that part of the world. He pours tea for Keith, but allows it to cool before serving it.

"How can you eat those hot cheetos? I turn into a dragon without shapeshifting when I eat those things," he says to Keith.

Keith waves at Amanda, and takes a second to process how weird everything was. His dislike for her has decreased, but he still finds her being nice a little… unsettling.

"I eat wasabi by the chunk, you now," Keith smirks and hmmms at the scent of the tea.
"Am I still a little addled from the fight, or was that … unusually nice for her? I mean, aside from the suicide mission thing which, honestly, I don't mind."

Keith hms, and looks up at Gar after staring at his tea for a moment. "You know… what's going on, it isn't that different from going on a mission, is it?"

"Not unusually nice. She's a decent person, she's just got this … I told you I found out where she was by using the helmet, right? I got a one-second impression of her personality. There is NOTHING she won't do to protect humanity. She's got a weird idea of what humanity IS, but she's not anything like the anti-mutant guys. She doesn't hate anyone, as far as I can tell. Doesn't actively like anyone either, because it'd take her edge off. She just knows what's threatening, and how to stop it." Gar shrugs. "It's also why I knew we could talk to her."

He looks in the bag. There IS a honey bun in there. But it won't taste good with the tea. But it WILL taste good with the chocolate milk, so he opens one of the bottles… Prefab chocolate milk. What hath science wrought?

"Right, the helmet…" Keith scratches his chin. "I hope you're not considering using that thing to find the wizards or the Sidhe e for too long… you said it does weird things to you." he sniffs.

"Is that… is that chocolate milk?" He knows it is. His sweet tooth, which is usually absent, is at an all-time high. Probably going for the comfort factor, really.

He reaches out and strokes Gar's hair, letting his fingers trail across the other's scalp in a gentle caress. "You know, I've got to ask… am I allowed to take showers? I know I'm supposed to stay in the circle of salt for as long as I can…"

"I don't think you'll melt. If being in running water makes you feel funny then stop immediately… I'll help you, in fact. But otherwise, it should be OK," Gar says. "The salt is mostly to make a quiet place where you can rest, right?"

He did some research, but there's not really that much in the libraries he has access to that helps — not that it's missing, it's just not in any depth. So he offers the bottle to Keith, and gets a towel and an oatmeal scrub soap bar that he just bought, and when he's helping Keith to his feet, says, "I wasn't going to use the helmet to find the Cait. If I touched him he'd know it, and then he'd be there either attacking me or trying to wreck the helmet. It doesn't belong to me, so that'd be a bad thing."

Keith frowns and nods. "Yes, better that you stay away from him for now." He gets to his feet and stretches, trying to get his muscles loose.

"Thank you for staying with me," he says with a smile. "The circle helps, but I sleep better when you are here. But how is this going to affect your degree? You're going to be way behind-"

"It's not. I can always shift out a semester. It's not like I'm on a deadline," Gar says. "They know who I am and that I have a, how did we put it, 'active extracurricular life'. It was always a possibility that I would end up losing time. So I was careful not to set things up so other people can't work without my results, and my main experimental stuff isn't until summer anyway."

Gar puts the chocolate milk lid back on just in case there are poacher weasels or something, and they head for the bathroom, where showering or giant-wet-towel bathing can happen, as appropriate.

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License