thoughtformed | [Action/Video]

Entry tags:

[Action/Video]

Who: Anita Blake and YOU!
Where: Downtown New Moore
When: Today, afternoon.
What: Having a bit of a personal problem, really.

[With the afternoon to herself, Anita has taken to giving herself a more thorough tour of New Moore, with an especial interest in Starbox. She misses her usual coffee place from back home, but when hard-pressed, Anita's never met a cup of coffee she didn't like. With her cup in one hand and the other supporting the strap of her shoulder back, she begins to head in the direction of home at a leisurely pace.

She begins to slow down even further when she approaches the storefront of Hoarders, considering stopping in for a few minutes, but as she does so, there's the faint sound of footsteps slowing to a stop just behind her. Decidedly non-human footsteps, at that. Something much smaller.

Turning around, she raises an eyebrow as she realized that she's made a four-legged friend during her tour of the town. The raccoon before her sits up and tilts his head to the side, clearly pleased with the attention he's sure he's about to receive.

Anita can't exactly blame him. He looks like the last attention he received came in the form of being plowed over by someone's car.

She sighs, facepalming.]

Well, crap.

[The raccoon isn't the only friend she's going to pick up today. As she continues to walk through town and even as she gets closer to home, the roadkill parade behind her seems to grow exponentially. To say the least, she doesn't look exactly pleased. Feel free to run into her anywhere along the way?]

[Video, Evening:]

[Once she's home and locked all of her admirers out, Anita is quick to get on the network, hoping she can get this resolved before Rose gets home and asks her what the hell is going on.]

So, I'm having a bit of a problem today. I need chickens. Does anyone know where I can get chickens? I could also make due with a goat, but I'd rather not. That gets messy.

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[That's a remark she kind of resents, even though the current display certainly makes that seem like it's the case.]

Actually, I normally have incredible control over it. Better than most in my line of work.

[She's famous from coast-to-coast for a reason, though it still always surprises her a little bit when someone from across the country wants to bring her in for a job. Still, animating is a rare talent. There aren't that many who can make a name doing it, and true necromancy? Even more rare. Too bad that's tough to keep under wraps. Other necromancers, as few as there are, can practically smell it on her.]

You have to use this kind of power regularly, or else it sort of boils over. I haven't had any dead to raise since I got here. No opportunities to put it into practice.

[She gives him a flat look, gesturing back towards the parade of roadkill.]

This is the result.

I see. Were you born with this ability? [He picks up one of the animals, a raccoon.]

And how long will the effects last?

[She nods, privately amused by the image of him picking up the raccoon to examine it.]

It's hereditary. My grandmother is a vaudun priestess. It skipped a generation, but she passed the power on to me. It's generally not something you can choose.

[She looks towards the sky, briefly, attempting to judge the hours of daylight left.]

Until full dark. If I'm able to get everything I need, I'll be able to lay them to rest then.

[If she's being honest with herself, she could do it during the day, too, which is a particularly rare talent. Still, with her power having gone unchecked for a few weeks now, she'd rather not try anything outside of her comfort zone. Best to stick to the basics.]

Well, I wish you all the luck in that endeavor. [He is a tad bit interested, this is magic he had read of, but had never made a study of.]

[She raises an eyebrow, skeptical.]

Somehow, I'd expected a hell of a lot more questions out of you.

[He chuckles]

What sort of material components do you require?

[She smirks wrly. She's never seen the harm in explaining how these sorts of things are done.]

Graveyard mold and a number of herbs. My partner is getting the latter for me. I don't think the grocery store would take too kindly to me waltzing in there with a small army of flat critters. I'm trying to find someplace to locate the mold. Pretty vital.

And blood. I need a chicken.

[She pauses, glancing over her shoulder.]

... maybe several, if I make more friends.

I am unsure as to where you can find the mold, but I am sure the local meat seller would have chickens.

I believe another rodent just joined in your procession.

[She follows his gaze towards the newest arrival and grimaces.]

Damn it.

Getting a live chicken might be tricky at this point in the day, but I guess we'll see. If all else fails, I can find some critters that haven't been flattened and try using them... but without a graveyard, I'm sunk.

I have not seen one, but I have not had a chance to explore the entire island.

I'm guess your buddies from back home aren't exactly tripping over themselves to give you a warm welcome or a tour, either.

[Yeah, she saw those Avengers all up in arms.]

Ah, yes, you saw that.

They have every reason to be hostile towards me.

[She's nosy, the network is a great opportunity to be a voyeur if people don't lock their posts.]

I got that impression. You don't have the most shining reputation in any mythos to begin with, so I can't say I'm terribly surprised.

[Not hostile, really, just an observation.]

Yes, I have heard as much. I take it you are well versed in the mythos of your world?

As much as one can be, with so many different accounts.

[She shifts her weight to the other foot and starts ticking each item off her fingers, going down the list.]

Loki. All of the stories say you're a trickster, some can't decide if you're with the gods or against them. They also can't decide if you're a god, a jötunn, or both. They cite Loki as a shapeshifter and I distinctly remember a story about you taking the shape of a mare and giving birth to Sleipnir. I feel whoever wrote that one was exceptionally drunk.

So, how far off the mark are they?

Edited 2012-12-09 03:10 (UTC)

[His eyebrows go up at the mention of the horse]

They really mention Sleipnir? Do they give the reason I changed into a mare, by any chance?

[She raises an eyebrow in reply. Yeah, she's just as skeptical of that one as you are, buddy.]

My guess was they had way too much wine. A lot of mythology is so garbled and corrupted over the years, by the time is reaches us, it's impossible to know what the original story was.

Well, I suppose I should set the record straight. But...

[He nods behind Anita where several of the animals scuttling around]

...you should probably take care of your growing problem as quickly as possible.

Somehow, I don't think those are the stories most people remember, if they heard them at all. I don't think you have much to worry about on that front.

[She follows his gaze again and sets her mouth into a thin line.]

Yeah. Full dark can't come soon enough.

[All she has to do is find a graveyard. She can put these little guys to rest, and then work on the problem of how to keep her power from spilling over again. It's not like people are contracting her to raise zombies on a nightly basis here like they are at home.

That's just inconvenient.]

Sometime, I'll have to show off properly.

[It's a matter of pride. An incident like this? This happens to new animators who don't know what they have. If anyone from her office saw this, it would be pretty damn embarassing.]

I look forward to it.

[He smiled and gave a small nod]

[As much as she finds his very existence intriguing, she's not sure if she should be particularly glad that he seems legitimately curious about this necromancy business. Sure, she offered. Most people raise an eyebrow, but not much more. She's never been secretive about it -- it doesn't do anyone a damn bit of good to try and cover it up -- but he smiles a lot, and people who smile a lot make her just a little bit nervous.

Regardless, she smiles thinly in reply, offering a half-hearted cross between a wave and a salute as she begins to back away, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand as she looks off into the distance to try and hazard a guess as to where to start looking for a graveyard.]

In that case, guess I should make sure it's something worth seeing. Good luck out there. You'll have to tell me a little more about what you did to get those "friends" of yours all up in arms sometime. All of that sniping back and forth tends to make a girl curious.

[Even if that heat is clearly deserved, she's nosy as hell. Mind her own business? Anita? Never.]

A good day to you, Ms. Blake. We shall converse again at a more convenient time.

[Well, for such a troublemaker, at least he has really nice manners.]

Convenient. Right.

[She smirks before finally turning her back, the procession scuttling after her -- with two rabbits and a squirrel joining at the tail end.]

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