Danny grins broadly. It looks genuine.
"Thanks Dora! Your a lifesaver!" He kisses her hand and makes a beeline for the hidden food trays, following his backstage instincts, and the glance that Dora made when she mentioned the food,...
Sal finds a bare area of wall near the slashed painting and leans against it, watching the room for anything unusual. "Let's get to this, shall we? You don't think the artist is in any danger, do you? Should we check on him after this, or at least get in touch with your friends?"
"Let's see what Ken digs up. That should give us a clue." Danny says, reappearing on cue with a small tray of finger sandwiches. He holds out the tray to Sal while popping the last half of a triangle of toasted bread and meat into his mouth.
"From what little I saw, and know about these things, and it IS little, compared to Ken there, the artist could be anywhere between 'right as rain in the morning' and 'Portrait of Dorian Gray'." Danny pops another tiny sandwich into his mouth and sighs happily.
"What? I'm hungry." he says to the flat looks of Sal and Tanris.
Andy's got a good heart, he'll protect Marvin. The proprietress adds; "Bunny is a good girl, if a bit ... flighty" Dora smiles, thinking that Bunny reminds her of her younger days.
Looking behind the curtain in the corner of the gallery. There hangs the vile looking picture, the content horrid and the slashes across the canvas only adds to the deprevated look of it. In the corner of the frame you may notice a small orange sticker.
Kenneth rolls his eyes, "Ye cannae mean tha' a bunch of pretentious gallery-goers tried tae buy the ruined thing?"
He shakes his head, What has become of our artistic souls, Lady? Or has it always been thus?
He sighs and smiles, "Then let's be about it. I dinnae ken how long this will take, but I'll take what's left of the ruin here intae a private space while Sal watches the door, Tangris watches her backside, and Danny, apparently, the canapes."
Tangris starts. "Whose backside am I watching? Sal? Heck yeah!"
"That lady in the white coat and red arm tattoo's came back, she said 'To apologise for the incident she'd buy it, for thrice it's value and thrice again.'" Dora rolls her eyes softly, doing a solid impression.
It's 1 am nearly. Very, very little traffic apart from the crazy rush of taxi's. In the more squalid, students row, drunk youths dance upon the streets.
Ok, so complexity 6 would exceed my Lore, but I can tag the painting itself -- bringing it into something I can manage -- since the spell will take time, I'll go for 3 shifts of power each roll.
"Hey, I don't work well on an empty stomach. But Shaggy and Scooby I ain't. I'm good." Danny says, putting the tray down. After a moment he snags another tiny sandwich.
"Ok, what we doing?" He asks brightly.
Sal rolls her eyes at Danny's sandwich gobbling. "I think you've got plenty of help in here. I'll keep an eye out on the streets, just in case."
She saunters out the door and leans against the building, folding her arms and propping a heel on the wall so anyone driving by would mistake her for a working girl. Tired out by the excitement of the evening, she is not as attentive as she should be and finds her mind wandering to the evidence room. She shakes herself and hops up and down a bit to try to wake up.
Kenneth conentrates upon the painting, performing his ritual (which will take best part of half-an-hour)
'The fires of inspiration burn. The bald man from earlier, a translucent demon, stands behind Marvin whispering in his ear. Marvin frantically paints, wide-eyed and a maniacal look across his countenance. "Bring it forth, give me an anchor - both in this world and in your body." the demon hisses in sibilant tones; "You can be my host, I'll take you..." Sweat and tears of blood roll down Marvins face.
"Together we can bring a piece of hell to earth." The scenery unfolds, a hellish landscape with hints of Bosch, Dali and Gieger. Suddenly the rips slightly expand, with a cleansing white light, a soft chime of a bell resounds - at odds with the evil.'
Sven Olafsson and his wife come over to Tangris; "Hello, hope that was all sorted out satisfactorilly? Anything I, we, can do to help?" he pats his wifes hand as it's clasped in the crook of his other arm.
Outside, it's all quiet. A taxi slowly drives by, the driver looking goggled eyed as bounces. Then from the corner of her eye she notices a small man barely of a height past her waist, the dark mahogany of his skin glints in the amber street-lights. He nods courtesiously to Sal.
Kenneth, within the circle, snarls and calls upon the purifying Fire of the Hearth to consume any lingering evils that may remain in the canvas.
As the flames die down, he stands and sheathes his blade, no longer needing the focus. He then steps out of the circle, causing the tiny flames to stop dancing around its edge. He steps out of the small storeroom and looks around for a food tray that Danny hasn't emptied.
He ignores the looks from everyone until he finds himself a tiny cucumber and watercress sandwich, and tries not to wrinkle his nose as he bites down on it. This isnae helping... Probably uses more calories tae eat the blasted thing than I get from it...
He turns, the weariness plain on his face, "When it bloody rains in York, 'tis always a blasted shitestorm. As if the blasted vamps and their venom-drugs werenae enow, we hae demons looking tae use junkie-artists as hosts... and open a link 'twixt our wourld and theirs."
He takes another bite of the sandwich as a terrible thought occurs to him and he remembers the strange flash on the track marks. He pulls the sandwich away and drops it into a trash bin with a sigh, "I wish I'd hae ken about this afore I looked at the venom-laced junk, because I cannae but wonder now if they're related."
Sal gives the short man a cheery nod and smile in return then looks away, still keeping him in her peripheral vision as she scans the streets. She tries to make out if he has any obvious weapons and watches to see if he moves along.
"C'mon, guys," she mutters to herself, squeezing her arm against her body to ensure the hard mass of her weapon is still there.
Danny nods at Ken's words. He watches the bard toss away the cucumber sandwich. Then Danny produces a tray of odourves that is made of actual meat. If in small portions. And amazingly, it is still half-full. Danny offers it to Ken with only a small smirk.
"Well,... Drug-using artists aren't all that uncommon,..." He mulls thoughtfully, peering at everyone as if daring them to make a musician joke.
"But still, a 'medicinally-assisted' painter, who happens to whip up a gateway out of paint, right when the venom -laced meds hits the market. Pretty long odds of NOT being linked. But without the attack on the station, would anyone have noticed the new stuff until the users were all already hooked on it?"
"Come to think of it, that was a pretty bone-head move, attacking the police in broad daylight. It's almost as if someone was trying to get attention. Point out the new stuff as something special before it hit the streets. Otherwise, who knows how bad it might have gotten? At least now we have a chance to stop the new shipment."
Danny stretches like a cat. He looks at the others and blinks.
"So, what next?"
Outside
The man, barely five foot - if that, nods to Sal. There doesn't seem to be any weapons or concealed items in his tweed jacket, he raises an arm and a midnight blue car glides down the street towards him.
Sal turns to saunter down the street towards the approaching car, glancing at its occupants. She does not stray far from the gallery door, though.
Outside
A dark wide-brimmed fedora covers most of the drivers face; however amongst the shadows Sal can make out the hint of pallid skin and eyes too wide and black to be human.
With a sauntering gait the mahogany man opens the car door; turns to the grey companion and says something. The car engine purrs, as it starts to pull away from the nearby kerb.
Sal dances into the street behind the big, quiet sedan to get its plate number, hoping their friendly law enforcement agent can trace it.
Kenneth says, "We should probably go find Marvin and hae a wee chat with the lad, assuming he's up tae it... on route tae something else tha' might be useful..."
Dora comes over, looks at the burnt canvas. "Well I suppose I can tell the lady what happened. She did seem to only want to help out...."
The mature lady sniffs; "Did I hear you want to talk to Marvin....?"
Getting out a note-pad from her hand-bag, she writes a quick note; "This is Andrews' address, he took Marvin there." handing the note to Kenneth.
Sal watches the fading lights of the big car and glances around the dark street nervously before slipping back inside the gallery. She hustles over to the group.
"Are we about ready? There were some odd characters outside. They just pulled away in a big car. Short, dark man and a big grey guy with big black eyes. They made me itchy, and not in the good way. I'd like to move on if we can. Did you find anything, Kenneth? I'm sure Danny found more sandwiches, but probably nothing else useful." She prances a bit nervously. "Oh, I got the tag number on their car, if your policewoman can run it for us."
A huge yawn takes her by surprise. "Oh, man... Dora, is there any coffee left? I don't care how old or burned it is. I need a pick-me-up." She trots to the food service table to scrounge.
Kenneth nods, "Aye, I did. Nothing good. I'll tell ye 'bout it on the way tae Marvin's...right after I call that in."
Kenneth takes the tag number and steps away, I should have brewed something tae keep them awake. They dinnae all hae a Champion's constitution... The beep of Laura's voicemail brings him out of thought with a shock, "Mornin' love... I imagine ye're buried in paperwork as a result ay the fun from earlier... I dinnae ken if it be related, but we noted some interesting folk who pulled away in a big, black sedan. Thought ye may be able tae look up the tag so we might pay them a wee visit when they dinnae expect us?"
Despite his protests, Danny seems awake and alert. He looks at the others with a raised eyebrow and shrugs.
"Performers hours. You get used to it. I'm good for a while." He pats his jacket pocket where his last Red Bull resides patiently.
"So,... We should go and check out Bunny, I mean check on the artist, make sure he's ok." Danny corrects smoothly.
"Then we can see if Whitby or this tag# bring us any clues, I can ask around and try to get the word on this big meeting happening soon, soon as day breaks anyway. THEN we still need to track down your sister and find this little drop off party that's going down and make sure the drugs end up feeding fishies and not anyone on the streets."
Danny grins.
"That should keep us busy for a little bit. So, what'll we do AFTER lunch?"
Kenneth chuckles at Danny's question and answers, deadpan, "Nothing much. Probably just save the world. Again."
Sven nods to Tangris; "Here keep the keys, the wife and I were going to go for a midnight stroll by the river. Take them, we can get a cab back home." his wife looks up into his eyes adoringly, it probably wouldn't be a good idea for her to drive the mini-metro.
Kenneth gets a text back saying it'll be morning before a result on the vehicle number plate.
Dora nods at Sal; showing her where the hot coffee is. As you might expect from an art gallery, this is a quality cup of strong coffee with real Italian import. "You alright, duck? You looked half starved. Here I'll get you a sandwich." the matronly proprietress puts together a chunky sandwich for the Lady, before off-loading a few pork pies on Danny with a wink and cheeky smile. "Here's the address, too."
~~~
Soon the quartet are back out on the streets, Sal and Kenneth taking his motorbike - the other pair the car. Through the spring streets, despite the time of day it's mild and dark. Soon arriving at the loft apartment written upon the note, it overlooks the river. A dark inky watercourse that inexorably flows. The top floor is Andrew's apartment, the top floor of an old warehouse, that once housed riverside trade.
Sal chugs a couple of tiny cups of the strong coffee, black, and takes the sandwich with a word of thanks. She nibbles a bit on the sandwich, but isn't really interested, instead tearing it into bits and shoving it around on the plate to make it look like she ate it.
"Shotgun!" Sal jumps on the motorcycle behind Kenneth before the other guys get a chance to say anything and looks smug as they zoom off.
"Huh. Refurbed warehouse? Those are usually really swanky." She views the building with an eye to offense and defense, checking out the area for anything unusual.
The large brick facade stands before them a large warehouse used in the industrial revolution for storage and transportation of cloth or coal down river. Although since then the dark sooty patina has been cleaned away and the building has been modernised.
Going up a large stairwell, upon an open landing the wide apartment door lies. After rapping on it, there's the soft padding of someone coming to the door.
Smoothly to opens fully, in the background is a large open-plan living room kitchen, with obvious art supplies to one side. However bloking this vista is a very different one; Andrew stands there.
Mahogany hair hangs down cresting across his bare shoulders, the muscular lines of his swimmers physique uninhibited by clothing until they reach a pair of worn blue jeans. He quirks an eyebrow at the group, a veneer of curiousity slips across his features.
There's hint's from Andrew's hazel bleary-eyes that he's not slept yet. Folding tanned arms defensively across his broad chest, emphasizing his athletic physique; "What do you want?" the question drifts softly, but pointedly.
Kenneth smiles, "Tae talk tae ye lad, about your work, and about your muse."
"And to find out how that Marvin guy is," Sal says, feeling suddenly scrawny and plain, "Did you guys take care of him?".
"Well, I suppose I'd better let you in then." he says lightly, although there is a hint of tension in his voice. He steps back confidently, hoping that he can deal with any trouble you may bring. "You'd probably tell me exactly what you want." He adds with a wave towards the wide open seating area.
Danny smothers his jealousy. Mostly.
'Yeah. If I looked like that, I wouldn't wear a shirt either.'
"Down boy." Danny grins easily to show he's joking, holding up his hands to indicate surrender.
"We just came to see that you and Bunny were ok. And to check on your friend. How's he doing?"
"We're actually hoping that maybe you or your friend could help us. There's a lot of, weird stuff going on. And you know if WE say that, it's probably not good." Danny smirks, including Andrew in the circle his finger makes when he says 'WE'.
"We were hoping that maybe your friend, or you, might be able to help us unravel a thread or two. If that's ok?" He asks politely.
Danny has good self control. But even he can't help but glance past Andrew at the room,...
'No, I'm NOT looking for Bunny,... but if I happened to catch a glimpse,...'
Danny smirks again, but it is the self-confident grimace of understanding from one artist to another.
"Trouble sleeping? I work when I can't sleep too." He nods towards the painting supplies in sight behind Andrew.
"Marvin's resting at the moment, I've been looking after him." Andrew adds, mildly pleased that they seem concerned for his friend. He sidles over to a heavy-duty table and leans on it; "Perhaps I can help?"
a side room door opens, out naturally strides Bunny seemingly dancing to a silent tune. Turning her naked body she looks to the group; a happy grin upon her face. "I thought I heard the door."
"Guests Bunny, you should probably..." Andrew says before he's cut off by the pretty dancer. "Do I have too? ♥ I'm sure they don't mind! Hey anyone want some drinks?♥" she interrupts in her bubbly voice.
Sal slips quietly into the apartment, stopping for a moment to note with amusement the expression on Danny's face as the au naturel Bunny dances in. Just like Soho, she thinks, feeling oddly at home as she moves to the window and peers out. She examines the nearby streets, buildings, and boats for any sign of life or threat and remains there on watch.
Kenneth looks carefully at Andrew's well-sculpted arms, looking for any signs of the sort of track marks that may have led to Marvin's problems, until he suddenly finds his attention seized by Bunny.
"Nae, lass, I dinnae mind.", he says as he reaches deep into himself to find the will to look away.
Finally, he compromises, and turns slightly, to speak to the photographer while not quite taking his eyes off his favoured subject. "I dinnae ken, yet, Andrew, if ye can help...."
Aye, that sets their minds at ease...
He shakes himself and turns more fully toward Andrew, and looks the man in the eye. " I thought it might be good tae talk tae you first, tae see if ye'd noticed any changes in Marvin -- and, for that matter, in yourself -- as you were working leading up tae the show."
Seeing the puzzled look, he offers a small explanation, "From what I can tell, it looks like something is messing 'round with artists.... which is something that makes the Lady more than a wee bit cross."
Sal's curiosity finally gets the best of her. "Who is this 'Lady'? Some sort of patron of artists?" she asks the handsome bard, pleased that for once there's more eye candy for her than for Danny in the room.
Tangris bangs in through the door. "Hey, does anyone know how to bang the dent out of a Mini's bumper? No? Right, who's the Lady you go on about? Also, does anyone have anything to eat, I'm starving. Also, I may have been holding some illegal drugs at the jail. Feeling pretty good about dodging that. What?" He stares at everyone, clearly unable to see how rude he's being.
Kenneth smiles at Sal and taps the woven crasg brìghde around his neck. "My Goddess, Brìghde, ay the Tuatha Dé Danann, or as she's more commonly ken, Brigid. The Lady is the Keeper ay the Sacred Flame ay Kildare, and three-fold goddess ay the hearth, the forge and artistic inspiration, especially poetry."
He looks Sal in the eye, his blue eyes burning with an inner fire, "She dinnae like it when people prey 'pon artists...", and his voice gains a slight edge as he finishes, "...and when she dinnae like something, 'tis her Herald's duty tae ensure that it stops."
He throws a wink, adding a friendly, "Ye ken?"
He then casts a dark look over at Tangris' and responds darkly, "Ach, I'm sure we could find ye some weeds tae chew 'pon. How 'bout ye keep an eye on the bonnie lass offering us drinks, so ye can go slack-jawed an' let the rest ay us have a real talk?"
Tangris simply stares at Kenneth, his grin unabated. "Yep, it sounds like English, but it makes no sense to me."
Unconcerned or embarrassed about her lack of attire, Bunny reaches up and grabs a bag of crisps/chips from a cupboard; "I have some monster munch." she proffers a bowl of the crunchy snack, seemingly not understanding the truth of Kenneth's patron.
Andrew ponders Kenneth's question, seemingly struck by a revelation.
"Tangris! You're holding? How could you do that?" Sal regards her old friend with shock and an odd amount of hurt. "I thought you'd given it up, after that incident with the giraffe."