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I got back in touch with Val, and we played catch-up over at Andy's Donuts. It sounds like she's been busy with her own things, trying to have something akin to a normal life. What I did, basically, except it's hard to have "normal" when you're working homicide cases all the time. I'll have to keep an eye on Val and make sure that she doesn't succumb to the sheer darkness of that job. She's apparently been largely out of contact with the garou, but had heard that there was something weird going on out near their large node--caern--whatever--out in the woods. Apparently there's some thorny brambles that grew up out of nowhere. I'd have thought they'd be thrilled about this as it'd make getting in or out of their holy grounds a pain in the ass, but no. No, they're grouchy about it. (I know! Imagine that! Cranky werewolves! /sarcasm) However, it seems the briars extended into the astral plane as well. Now that is interesting! I asked Val if she could collect a few of the berries from these plants for me so I could look at them. I also asked Val if Salem was still around. He's one of the garou that I quasi-trust, though I'd probably shit myself if I ever pissed him off. (Let's not do that, shall we Nick?) I still very clearly remember the night he nearly killed Gwen. Damn good thing she had such command over Mind magick. But that was, what, over a decade ago? People can change. Lord knows I have since then.
After Val left, I struck up a conversation with a gal that works over at SCCU's interlibrary loan department. She's a relatively new hire with an MA (or is that an MS) in library science. I am utterly ashamed at how much we geeked out. Next time I'm over at SCCU using their library, I'll have to make a point to stop and chat with her. It'd be nice to have an insider at the library, particularly one that can wrangle me up some of the more esoteric and rare books that I occasionally need to get my hands on. Plus, she seems like a nice person.
The next day, Val dropped off a package for me on my houseboat: some of the bramble berries and a note that included Salem's number--and a caution that he'd had an "accident" and looked about 30 years older. (She also mentioned Mouse, who I met once . I owe her: she healed my leg after I nearly hacked it off with my lightsaber. I haven't fired that thing up in almost 2 years. It gives me the willies.) Damn. That'd make him about 70 or 80, I think. I need to figure out what he did so I can stay the hell away from that shit. The berries? I snapped on some nitrile gloves and put them into separate, sealed glass jars. A couple are on ice in the freezer, a couple in the refrigerator, and in a cupboard. (I've seen the vines from that movie "The Ruins"--I'm not taking chances with magical shrubbery. Another missing person case called me away (cha-ching!) before I could do any poking, and, come to think of it, I want to ask Salem what the walking carpets know about them before I do any of my own poking. Although... I kind of would like to see the plants in person in their native habitat--if I can find a hazmat suit and industrial strength herbicide. I left Salem a voice mail to let him know I'm back in town. I like how he changes his number all the time: I do too.
Today, while out at Harbor Park and prepping for my morning parkour workout, I ran into a good-looking girl named Emma, who was also doing some off-the-beaten-path running. We got to talking and I mentioned how I liked parkour because it helped me to think and achieve physical and mental balance. That made me realized that, at a fundamental level, motion is also useful when I'm working some types of magick. It was quite the revelation! We seemed to hit it off fairly well. She has a kid and no husband. Kind of odd how she was accepting of that and their separation as being "just how it is." That's kind of a liberating mindset, and that dredged up feelings about Janet and her aborting our kid when I disappeared on her. That wound has scabbed over, but I don't need to go picking at it. Anyway, Emma--Em--and I are slated to do parkour workouts every so often in the mornings. It'll be fun to have a workout buddy.
Also, why the fuck do my fingertips feel like they're burning? I haven't been messing around with vulgar Forces since killing that spirit down in San Francisco.
After Val left, I struck up a conversation with a gal that works over at SCCU's interlibrary loan department. She's a relatively new hire with an MA (or is that an MS) in library science. I am utterly ashamed at how much we geeked out. Next time I'm over at SCCU using their library, I'll have to make a point to stop and chat with her. It'd be nice to have an insider at the library, particularly one that can wrangle me up some of the more esoteric and rare books that I occasionally need to get my hands on. Plus, she seems like a nice person.
The next day, Val dropped off a package for me on my houseboat: some of the bramble berries and a note that included Salem's number--and a caution that he'd had an "accident" and looked about 30 years older. (She also mentioned Mouse, who I met once . I owe her: she healed my leg after I nearly hacked it off with my lightsaber. I haven't fired that thing up in almost 2 years. It gives me the willies.) Damn. That'd make him about 70 or 80, I think. I need to figure out what he did so I can stay the hell away from that shit. The berries? I snapped on some nitrile gloves and put them into separate, sealed glass jars. A couple are on ice in the freezer, a couple in the refrigerator, and in a cupboard. (I've seen the vines from that movie "The Ruins"--I'm not taking chances with magical shrubbery. Another missing person case called me away (cha-ching!) before I could do any poking, and, come to think of it, I want to ask Salem what the walking carpets know about them before I do any of my own poking. Although... I kind of would like to see the plants in person in their native habitat--if I can find a hazmat suit and industrial strength herbicide. I left Salem a voice mail to let him know I'm back in town. I like how he changes his number all the time: I do too.
Today, while out at Harbor Park and prepping for my morning parkour workout, I ran into a good-looking girl named Emma, who was also doing some off-the-beaten-path running. We got to talking and I mentioned how I liked parkour because it helped me to think and achieve physical and mental balance. That made me realized that, at a fundamental level, motion is also useful when I'm working some types of magick. It was quite the revelation! We seemed to hit it off fairly well. She has a kid and no husband. Kind of odd how she was accepting of that and their separation as being "just how it is." That's kind of a liberating mindset, and that dredged up feelings about Janet and her aborting our kid when I disappeared on her. That wound has scabbed over, but I don't need to go picking at it. Anyway, Emma--Em--and I are slated to do parkour workouts every so often in the mornings. It'll be fun to have a workout buddy.
Also, why the fuck do my fingertips feel like they're burning? I haven't been messing around with vulgar Forces since killing that spirit down in San Francisco.
