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xp_logsAmanda and Artie find a quiet spot on the beach so she can make sure there's no ill-effects from his blood pact with Illyana.
"You know, we probably should have done this earlier," Amanda said as she and Artie wandered down to a quiet spot on the beach. It was morning, earlier than either usually preferred, but Amanda hadn't wanted an audience for this. And space would be good. Still, the bright morning sun, the brilliant blue water and the sarong and t-shirt combination she was wearing were definitely not what came to mind when one thought of witchcraft.
Artie nodded. "It's only been a month," he replied, signing. "Plus I had to make that run out to Los Angeles and I was there for a week." The tide was out and the sand still cool and damp underfoot. He shrugged. "I know it was a stupid risk to take but... Artie shook his head. "I needed to get Illyana onside with a method she'd understand and make sure she didn't just take what she needed next time she was out in public." He'd agonised over it at night but. "Look, I don't seem to have a blood curse or anything yet."
"Fair enough - you got us information that we wouldn't be able to get any other way, so no shite from me," Amanda replied. She understood Artie's brand of sign language pretty well, dating back to when they were in the same class together and she signed as she spoke out of habit. "Especially since this 'Yana thinks I'm totally bonkers. Then again, the previous one did too." She snorted a laugh. "Good to know some things don't change."
Artie laughed silently. "She's... Look, the best description right now is feral. Any layer of civilization she had before she went back to Limbo is gone. I'd trust her, but there's no filter on anything she does. And yeah, she thought that before she went back to Limbo."
They'd passed a small head and Artie pointed toward a shady patch under a pair of palms. "How about over there?” he asked, staring intently at the tree tops. "I don't think we're going to get hit by coconuts. Or uh," he kicked at a tussock of grass. "There's no... crabs probably? Or ants?” He was visibly slightly outside of his comfort zone.
To be honest, the only reason Amanda wasn't the same, was that she five years older and had been on tropical vacations at least twice before. "I think we're safe," she said, sitting down cross legged and indicating Artie should take a seat opposite before rummaging in the cotton shoulder bag she carried. Have spell components, will travel.
Artie sat. "You know, last winter vacation, I went to this resort and they had a problem with banana spiders and ugh, nope. I was on the next bus back to town and a 5 star hotel." He shuddered.
"That's why you stay in the five star resorts in the first place," Amanda said sagely. "It's not like we have to pay rent or buy food or anything, so we can afford it, and that way there's less creepy crawlies." She pulled out of the bag a husked coconut with a hole in it, neatly corked, and a round green citrus fruit. "Okay, step one for this. I need you to put the lime in the coconut."
"Too many of the wrong sort of tourists in some of the five star resorts, especially this time of year. Lots of elderly snowbirds blowing the kids' inheritance before they croak," Artie replied, with a raised eyebrow at the lime and the coconut. "Seriously, Amanda?" He took them and, with one hand still holding the coconut, now with lime, asked in text "isn't it a bit early for a cocktail?"
"Hush. This is serious magic," Amanda replied, completely straight faced. "You put the lime in the coconut, then you drink them both up." A certain twitch around the corners of her mouth betrayed her, if the blatant use of lyrics hadn't.
Artie shook his head, trying not to smile and shifted his shoulders mildly uncomfortably.
Her self-control faltered and she giggled. "Okay, yeah, that was totally a bad pun. But there's coffee in the coconut if you're jonesing for caffeine." She dug around the bag again and pulled out a jay with a khaki green liquid sloshing around inside. "Just don't drink it all 'cause I'm going to need something to wash away the taste of this," she continued as she unscrewed the jay and held it to her lips, nose wrinkling at the smell. "Fuck, I hate traditional witchcraft." It wasn't much of a toast, but it was her last words before she gunned the liquid down, grimacing as she did.
Artie reached in with two fingers and fished the lime out out of the coconut, hissing at the heat on his fingers and shaking them dry before signing "I'll wait till we're back at the resort, actually."
She would have replied verbally, except she was too busy not throwing up the potion she'd just swallowed. So instead she switched to sign: ~Quick, give me the coconut before i spew this all over the place.~
He handed it over and, as soon as her fingers closed around it, Artie scooched a couple of feet over to the right, theatrically.
She chugged down several mouthfuls of scalding hot lime-and-coconut coffee and then paused for a few moments, waiting to see whether she'd actually vomit or not. Fortunately her system was used to this sort of abuse through years of witchcraft - after a hiccup or two, things settled down and she was able to return her attention to the matter at hand. "Fuck. Ugh. Okay, give me your hand, the one you did the blood pact with," she said aloud this time.
Artie held out his hand. "Remember", he projected, "If you puke, point your head that way."
"I won't puke on you," she reassured him, and took the offered hand between her own two and closed her eyes. "So, I need you to remember the thing with 'Yana," she continued. "Remember where you were, what you were feeling, what you talked about. You don't need to tell me, just picture it in your mind."
Artie closed his eyes even though that wasn't necessary and built the scene. The physical location, the details of crumbs and condiments on the counter, the clean sign on the dishwasher and the look in Illyana's eyes as she spoke and the quickness of her movements all came easily. After a moment, details fixed in his mind, he began to replay the scene like a video in his mind.
His memory was visual, not auditory but he'd seen his own projected images which gave the rest of it body and substance.
Amanda wasn't psychic, but the potion she'd taken heightened her senses - she steadfastly refused to acknowledge it, but perhaps it "opened her third eye? Anyway, she was able to "see" the energy involved in the interaction, and scrutinise it for signs of anything suspicious. She watched the scene pan out, down to the slicing of palms and the exchange of blood, and then pulled her awareness back to herself. "You're all good," she said, before taking a deep breath and then opening her eyes. "You're curse free."
Artie opened his eyes, letting the memory fall away and taking in the sun, the sand and the sea in front of them both, the stippling of the shade on the sand. "Good I didn't think she would do anything then but you know."
"Oh, I'm glad you asked. Blood curses are much easier to deal with in the early stages." Amanda let his hands drop. "And thanks. For, you know, trusting me to do this. I know things are weird after the whole Garrison undercover thing."
Artie shook his head. "I don't trust your judgement on that but I understand the reasons for it. As for everything else?" He stopped signing and switched to text to make sure that she understood - everyone at the mansion was fluent in ASL, sure but fluency was a moving scale. "I trust you. I have to trust you because if we're in the field and I don't, someone might die. You don't - can't - hold my reaction about the Gar thing against me. That wasn't my lack of trust. It was yours."
"Fair enough." Amanda replied with a nod. "I didn't mean for it to sound like I was holding that against you, just..." She shrugged. "Doesn't matter." She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the sky through the palm they were sitting under. "I'm hungry again after that. You up for second breakfast?"
He nodded and climbed to his feet. "Let's go." He could have pushed Amanda's deflection but no. Not today. It wasn't worth it today.
"You know, we probably should have done this earlier," Amanda said as she and Artie wandered down to a quiet spot on the beach. It was morning, earlier than either usually preferred, but Amanda hadn't wanted an audience for this. And space would be good. Still, the bright morning sun, the brilliant blue water and the sarong and t-shirt combination she was wearing were definitely not what came to mind when one thought of witchcraft.
Artie nodded. "It's only been a month," he replied, signing. "Plus I had to make that run out to Los Angeles and I was there for a week." The tide was out and the sand still cool and damp underfoot. He shrugged. "I know it was a stupid risk to take but... Artie shook his head. "I needed to get Illyana onside with a method she'd understand and make sure she didn't just take what she needed next time she was out in public." He'd agonised over it at night but. "Look, I don't seem to have a blood curse or anything yet."
"Fair enough - you got us information that we wouldn't be able to get any other way, so no shite from me," Amanda replied. She understood Artie's brand of sign language pretty well, dating back to when they were in the same class together and she signed as she spoke out of habit. "Especially since this 'Yana thinks I'm totally bonkers. Then again, the previous one did too." She snorted a laugh. "Good to know some things don't change."
Artie laughed silently. "She's... Look, the best description right now is feral. Any layer of civilization she had before she went back to Limbo is gone. I'd trust her, but there's no filter on anything she does. And yeah, she thought that before she went back to Limbo."
They'd passed a small head and Artie pointed toward a shady patch under a pair of palms. "How about over there?” he asked, staring intently at the tree tops. "I don't think we're going to get hit by coconuts. Or uh," he kicked at a tussock of grass. "There's no... crabs probably? Or ants?” He was visibly slightly outside of his comfort zone.
To be honest, the only reason Amanda wasn't the same, was that she five years older and had been on tropical vacations at least twice before. "I think we're safe," she said, sitting down cross legged and indicating Artie should take a seat opposite before rummaging in the cotton shoulder bag she carried. Have spell components, will travel.
Artie sat. "You know, last winter vacation, I went to this resort and they had a problem with banana spiders and ugh, nope. I was on the next bus back to town and a 5 star hotel." He shuddered.
"That's why you stay in the five star resorts in the first place," Amanda said sagely. "It's not like we have to pay rent or buy food or anything, so we can afford it, and that way there's less creepy crawlies." She pulled out of the bag a husked coconut with a hole in it, neatly corked, and a round green citrus fruit. "Okay, step one for this. I need you to put the lime in the coconut."
"Too many of the wrong sort of tourists in some of the five star resorts, especially this time of year. Lots of elderly snowbirds blowing the kids' inheritance before they croak," Artie replied, with a raised eyebrow at the lime and the coconut. "Seriously, Amanda?" He took them and, with one hand still holding the coconut, now with lime, asked in text "isn't it a bit early for a cocktail?"
"Hush. This is serious magic," Amanda replied, completely straight faced. "You put the lime in the coconut, then you drink them both up." A certain twitch around the corners of her mouth betrayed her, if the blatant use of lyrics hadn't.
Artie shook his head, trying not to smile and shifted his shoulders mildly uncomfortably.
Her self-control faltered and she giggled. "Okay, yeah, that was totally a bad pun. But there's coffee in the coconut if you're jonesing for caffeine." She dug around the bag again and pulled out a jay with a khaki green liquid sloshing around inside. "Just don't drink it all 'cause I'm going to need something to wash away the taste of this," she continued as she unscrewed the jay and held it to her lips, nose wrinkling at the smell. "Fuck, I hate traditional witchcraft." It wasn't much of a toast, but it was her last words before she gunned the liquid down, grimacing as she did.
Artie reached in with two fingers and fished the lime out out of the coconut, hissing at the heat on his fingers and shaking them dry before signing "I'll wait till we're back at the resort, actually."
She would have replied verbally, except she was too busy not throwing up the potion she'd just swallowed. So instead she switched to sign: ~Quick, give me the coconut before i spew this all over the place.~
He handed it over and, as soon as her fingers closed around it, Artie scooched a couple of feet over to the right, theatrically.
She chugged down several mouthfuls of scalding hot lime-and-coconut coffee and then paused for a few moments, waiting to see whether she'd actually vomit or not. Fortunately her system was used to this sort of abuse through years of witchcraft - after a hiccup or two, things settled down and she was able to return her attention to the matter at hand. "Fuck. Ugh. Okay, give me your hand, the one you did the blood pact with," she said aloud this time.
Artie held out his hand. "Remember", he projected, "If you puke, point your head that way."
"I won't puke on you," she reassured him, and took the offered hand between her own two and closed her eyes. "So, I need you to remember the thing with 'Yana," she continued. "Remember where you were, what you were feeling, what you talked about. You don't need to tell me, just picture it in your mind."
Artie closed his eyes even though that wasn't necessary and built the scene. The physical location, the details of crumbs and condiments on the counter, the clean sign on the dishwasher and the look in Illyana's eyes as she spoke and the quickness of her movements all came easily. After a moment, details fixed in his mind, he began to replay the scene like a video in his mind.
His memory was visual, not auditory but he'd seen his own projected images which gave the rest of it body and substance.
Amanda wasn't psychic, but the potion she'd taken heightened her senses - she steadfastly refused to acknowledge it, but perhaps it "opened her third eye? Anyway, she was able to "see" the energy involved in the interaction, and scrutinise it for signs of anything suspicious. She watched the scene pan out, down to the slicing of palms and the exchange of blood, and then pulled her awareness back to herself. "You're all good," she said, before taking a deep breath and then opening her eyes. "You're curse free."
Artie opened his eyes, letting the memory fall away and taking in the sun, the sand and the sea in front of them both, the stippling of the shade on the sand. "Good I didn't think she would do anything then but you know."
"Oh, I'm glad you asked. Blood curses are much easier to deal with in the early stages." Amanda let his hands drop. "And thanks. For, you know, trusting me to do this. I know things are weird after the whole Garrison undercover thing."
Artie shook his head. "I don't trust your judgement on that but I understand the reasons for it. As for everything else?" He stopped signing and switched to text to make sure that she understood - everyone at the mansion was fluent in ASL, sure but fluency was a moving scale. "I trust you. I have to trust you because if we're in the field and I don't, someone might die. You don't - can't - hold my reaction about the Gar thing against me. That wasn't my lack of trust. It was yours."
"Fair enough." Amanda replied with a nod. "I didn't mean for it to sound like I was holding that against you, just..." She shrugged. "Doesn't matter." She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the sky through the palm they were sitting under. "I'm hungry again after that. You up for second breakfast?"
He nodded and climbed to his feet. "Let's go." He could have pushed Amanda's deflection but no. Not today. It wasn't worth it today.
