abraxaslogs | Open Log - I feel like I should be cackling

Chris had a condundrum. He could continue trying to gather ingredients for potions since he had been completely kidnapped without any witch supplies, or he could make due with what he had been able to come up with, see if he can make substitutions and hope the potion actually did what it was supposed to.

Not wanting to rely strictly on his own magical abilities, he decided on potion making. Which lead to his next problem. What kind of a potion to make? Chris had no idea what kind of problems or monsters here were likely, and to top it all off, he was relying on his own memory. While he had started reconstructing the Halliwell Book of Shadows in his domain, it was far from finished. Also, that book was huge. And memory? Was imperfect.

Maybe he needed to come up with a memory potion later. That was a good idea actually. But not going to help his current problem.

Chris had lined up the ingredients he had come up with, consisting of a variety of herbs, roots, animal organs or body parts, along with a soup pot he really hoped no one was planning on using any time soon. He'd wash it, he promised.

"What do you think? I probably can make a sleeping potion--there's enough variability with those, a stun potion--those are similar enough to sleep. I might be able to do an explosive but I'm missing a bird feather. Or, smoke bomb." Chris winced a little, unsure. " I don't think I quite have enough for acid or poisons yet without finding a Walmart nearby."

Teddy's been gathering herbs to make into a pest deterrent for the luthier's poor garden, which has long since turned from paying off a guitar into a stubborn pet project. The guy has the worst case of black thumb (plus what Teddy would call ADHD) that they've ever seen, but he's, at least, willing to assiduously listen while Teddy gives tips, and he seems to be if anything eager to talk to them about music, so.

It's not exactly hard to notice the tall -- guy, Teddy sort of assumes, although it's a bad habit -- collecting ingredients nearby. They've both sort of acknowledged each other and gone about their business; they're both still clearly sort of observing each other obliquely. (It's about 50% is he new or do I just not know him, and also what the fuck...? and about 50% which year is that haircut screaming, right now)

She startles a little, even so, when he says What do you think? Teddy's still not a hundred percent sure if he's talking to her or not, but she blinks at the list, wandering closer to eye the very esoteric stuff and the ...very normal stockpot. "If we had a Walmart nearby," she says with a lifted eyebrow, "you could just buy a gun. And poisons exist all on their own. I promise." She tips her head a little toward the woods. There's plenty in there not recommended for internal use, so to speak.

"...Are you uh, liable to need explosives or acid any time soon?" A smoke bomb actually sounds kind of cool. It's more the wide range from vandalism to defense or possibly a riot to murder that's slightly concerning.

Chris had fully intended on having a pleasant, civil conversation. A completely normal conversation, like one would who was just randomly preparing to brew potions in the middle of a weird ass commune they'd been kidnapped post-death. Completely normal. That is until the weirdo in front of him told him he could buy a gun at Walmart. He was quite sure the look on his face was almost comical.

A demon attacking he could have handled. Killer dragonflies swarming? Sure. Buying a gun at Walmart? Nah. "What the hell? Where the fuck do you live that you can buy a gun at Walmart? Ginger, you can buy ginger at Walmart. Cinnamon sticks. Maybe some mason jars if you get there in time. But a gun? No, you can't buy a gun at Walmart." Seriously, he was busy talking about making explosive potions and this person wanted to buy a gun instead? "I think I'll stick to the thing I know how to use. But if you find a rogue gun store that pops up and happens to stock cinnamon sticks and bagel bites, let me know."

Chris was giving Teddy such a look. "Why don't you tell me what I might need here. I'm still getting a feel for this place. Either way, I think I'd like to be prepared."

He paused, sighing and just lowering his gaze to the ground. He hadn't heard that sound very many time, but enough that he knew what it was. That lovely dentists drill sound that was ringing in his ears indicating a new charge. Wow. That was some really good reception. He hadn't thought it worked all the way over in another world. It made him wish he had his iphone with him too. See how many bars he could get. Either way, clearly there was a reason. They were linked. That was what he'd always been taught. Stuff happens for a reason. Whoever this person was, they were clearly connected.

And so, Chris actually relaxed, lost a bit of the edge he'd been holding, and started viewing Teddy in a new light. A charge. Huh. He wasn't sure what was more concerning. The fact that he had a charge or the fact that his charge could buy a gun at a Walmart.

"Uh, I'm Chris." For some reason 'meet your new whitelighter' didn't just roll off the tongue. Go figure. Now did he tell them the truth or just....coincidentally keep arriving in the same place as them? How long could he pull that off before it was considered stalking?

Edited 2024-08-14 02:22 (UTC)

The guy with the hair and the explosive potions goes from looking indecisive and slightly grumpy to absolutely boggled. Teddy almost laughs aloud. And it would just be funny -- they are, in fact, aware there are states with the sort of firearm restrictions that make it impossible to sell guns like that -- but where the fuck do you live that you can buy a gun at Walmart is the kind of statement that feels like it has you goddamn hick all but tacked onto the end.

"I live the fuck in West Virginia, when I'm not here," she answers extremely dryly. "And yeeeaah...? Ginger, cinnamon -- don't buy your spices at Walmart, though, for one thing it's fake cinnamon and for another, you might as well just drive around with a fuck you, local business sign -- cases of canning supplies," -- yeah okay, those actually are probably best bought at Walmart, unless there's a good hardware store near him. "Clothes, toys, electronics. Bagel bites. And. Guns. Which is what I know."

Teddy levels that Look back at him. They're increasingly aware that he's also about 2/3 their height even sitting down, but they tend to give off a bit of a presence when they're -- well, usually when they're on stage, but also when they're being ranty, so. Probably not as tiny seeming as usual.

He feels a little bad, though, when the guy snarks about needing to be prepared. Okay, fair, appearing here out of nowhere isn't exactly...fun. Teddy sighs and scrubs his face, taking a long breath. When he looks up, the other man's looking at the ground, and Teddy frowns a little, dropping to a sit across from him. He hadn't expected both of them to feel shitty, or chill out, or whatever exactly is happening here.

"You're brand fucking new, aren't you." Teddy makes a face. "Look...I'm sorry. I was --" They sigh. "It just -- it seemed funny, like. Going to all this trouble to make a...potion, that I assume only works once per? If they're anything like potions in video games? Without even knowing what you might use it on? ...But I know appearing here out of nowhere is really...really weird."

Teddy sets her herbs, which she's still kind of holding, down next to her and contemplates. "The thing is, this place...I don't reckon you'd get your time's worth out of most of those. Don't get me wrong, the crazy shit just keeps going, but the last thing that happened, explosives would have...mostly caused more problems..." Teddy makes a little yikes face as she tries to imagine explosives inside an enclosed bunker. "If you can just keep vials of backup potions on your shelf forever, I guess it could be useful to have a little of everything...?"

"Much of the time we're hanging out, helping the locals with stuff and getting ...food, shelter, whatever else we need in return. Waiting for the next crazy shit. If you've got a good potion for fixing things, or, I don't know, healing, that's going to get you further than any of these. Though..." Teddy tips their head. "Sleep could be good. That's got a lot of applications."

They ruffle their hair and hold out a hand, with a slightly apologetic little smile. They're not sure what they think, and comments about where they live tend to make them wary, but they also would like to be the kind of person who reserves judgement.
"I'm Teddy."

"You can buy guns at Walmart in West Virginia?" Chris was still actually incredulous by this. Like, he thought of West Virginia and, well, he didn't think Walmart and guns? "I wouldn't actually by spices at Walmart, my mom a chef and would literally kill me." Like, Piper might actually try and blow him up. Chris was pretty sure being lazy and picking up cloves at Walmart was a death sentence in the Manor. But you know, in a pinch? Piper never had to know what her son had done in the future.

As for Teddy? Chris is used to being yelled at by a woman about Teddy's height who could also blow you up, so Teddy and their stage presence? Yeah, he was accustomed to being mildly intimidated by smaller people. And being intimidated by his charge? ....yeah that was also normal. He shifted to sit down on the ground as they started to talk, rather than continue to like, tower over them. He shifted his limbs, trying to figure out what to do with them.

"Okay, so sleep potions. I can do that. There's no potion for fixing stuff but I got a spell that'll do it easy." And then he twitched. "Yeah, I can't heal. Healing is....big." And you were assigned the only freaking whitelighter in existence that hadn't figured it out yet. The whitelighter who let their fianceé get impaled by his own psychotic brother and still couldn't muster up enough love to trigger his ability to heal. Therapy. He needed lots and lots of therapy.

"Alright Teddy, so I got kidnapped and sent to like, farm country? Where we give offerings to weird god monsters and farm?" Wait, was there a plant growth spell or potion in the book? It was one of those things he just normally....skipped over. Because who cared. But....obviously there were Warren witches who existed before modern grocery stores. There had to be spells and potions in the book that would help. If he could remember. Or through just trial and error?

"Potions and magical ingredients don't really have an expiration date--and if I make a big enough batch, I can make more than one vial. I suppose I could just make a bunch and see what ends up being useful? And wait, tell me what happened last time? You made this face...." He was remembering that look she had about the explosives.

"So what do you do here for fun then?" He was going to make a cow tipping joke and thought better of it. So instead, he looked up at them, leaning against a tree to brace himself, and tilted his head a bit. Trying to get a grip on his link with Teddy, to separate his feelings from theirs and now that the buzzing was going away since he was acknowledging the link, maybe it would be a little easier. "And you don't need to apologize, you're fine. I suppose I came on a little strong too."

Edited (sorry, i keep thinking of things) 2024-08-25 02:14 (UTC)

Teddy can’t help a little huff of laughter. They think they could probably really shock him with how many laws there aren’t on the topic in both West Virginia and Kentucky. But they also know that horrified tone and they’re - in his eyes, anyway - probably slandering their home state quite enough already.

“That’s what I said,” Teddy replies easily, eyes amused. “Though you wouldn’t really want to. Can’t throw a stone back home without hitting a sporting goods place or a Gun & Pawn, a real gunsmith if you’re in the right place, and any one of those can get you something better and more reliable than whatever crappy mass produced hunting rifles Walmart stocks.”

Not that she has opinions or anything...

She has to assume he’s joking about literally kill, though her eyebrow lifts, curious at that tidbit of information. Mom’s a chef, son makes potions. That’s one way of riffing on a family skill…

“Damn, video games lying to me again!” Teddy forges past the momentary awkwardness Chris seems to have around not being able to do that. They have pretty good healers in Solvunn, so no new magic fixall isn’t the end of the world; they just don’t have something they already didn’t have. They explain, “You know, in RPGs and shit, the healing potions are the first ones they give you? Just toting around 17 vials of whatever, downing them every five minutes. But.” They shrug, smiling. “I guess games also imply you could make a proximity-triggered bomb out of gunpowder, scissors and a tin can, or just light rubbing alcohol on fire and have a functional Molotov cocktail, so…”

“You’re not wrong about the farming and gods. I’m not sure I would call them monsters…” Though, aren’t gods and monsters kind of the same? There are some that are certainly monstrous; in that alternate future, a thing they aren’t going to mention to someone this new, Teddy herself had had times of being pretty crazy looking — and scarily empowered.

Teddy nods at Chris’s thinking-out-loud instead; that had been exactly their thought. Why not just make some of everything in case, if it stays good?

“Last time. So, a little while ago there were some…pretty wild environmental things going on that may or may not have had to do with the gods and the other two countries here, who are at war — anyway: we had to go underground in kind of — a bunker, while things blew over. Which was its own problem…” Teddy doesn’t want to recap the whole thing when he’s asking one question, and waves a hand.

“But that’s why I made the face. Explosives in a contained underground space. Unless you’re trying to break rock apart — and for that matter, even if you are, and you know what you’re doing — that’s a quick way to set a fire or collapse the ceiling or accidentally end up with toxic fumes, and it still wouldn’t have helped get rid of much of the problem.”

“And…fun. I mean. The war’s made things a little …fraught? but it mainly depends on what you normally do for fun? I’m a musician, back home, and I can still do that here; my friend Eddie and I jam sometimes.

“There are taverns and inns where people gather. Play music and drink and dance and tell stories. Like any kind of bar, really, just…less bass.” Teddy shrugs and mulls a little. One good aspect of having the biggest place she’d lived — and that only as a little kid - be the very outskirts of Pikeville, KY is that she’s used to entertaining herself without cable Internet and fairly shitty cell service and with a lot of things a good hour or more drive away.

(Granted, sometimes that entertainment was more or less legal, or wise, especially as a teen, but her desire to do stupid shit is a lot lower these days and besides, trespassing and drug use mostly aren’t things you can get arrested for in Solvunn.)

“You know, the stuff people have done for hundreds of years. Oh: There’s also the Horizon — has anyone shown you yet?”

"....Yeah I don't think we have those in San Francisco....." Or if they did, Chris definitely wasn't familiar with them. That and guns against demons or whitelighters was usually kind of stupid, so he steered clear of them. They are definitely from very different parts of the world.

And then, there Teddy was, trying to make himself feel better about being the worlds most useless whitelighter. It was actually kind of sweet. "That i can actually do," Chris offered probably not so helpfully. "My aunt was actually really good at chemistry...." so in the not so likely event that Chris' magic failed him, he could totally light things on fire and make modified explosives out of it. Thanks Paige.

He listened, trying to gauge what was happening in this whole crazy world with what might be best to make potions wise and he totally sees why Teddy made a face. "Okay, so if I make an explosive, it needs to be fume free and target specific. got it." He was pretty sure that was not what Teddy was getting at but. That was totally what he got from that explanation.

"Why is everyone asking me what I do for fun?" He sighed, wondering what kind of 'i dont know how to have fun' aura he gave off. Wasn't there an aura cleansing spell in the book? If he could remember it, maybe he should use it.

"I don't. Have fun that is. Usually, I don't have time. This is probably the first time in a while I've been able to ...just stop." kind of. Until the universe started throwing Charges at him. Like Teddy. But what they didn't know couldn't hurt them, right? "Eddie's cool, he seems like a really excellent guy. And no, no one's shown me the Horizon. I assume you don't mean like....the sky."

Teddy actually laughs a little this time. They can't tell if he means a sporting goods store, a Gun & Pawn, gunsmiths, hunting rifles, hunting rifles in Walmart, or all of the above. Given the conversation, it's probably just the Walmart, but his shell-shocked (heh) expression could indicate all of it.

"Oh, you're from a true-blue state," she says, with a little "ah" of a nod. "Yeaaah, my impression of San Francisco is that your sporting goods section is a little more of the yoga variety." Diplomatically, Teddy adds, "I mean, my impression of San Francisco is also like... Large bridge, seals, pretty houses, super gay, super expensive. Occasional earthquake." She tilts her head. "I'm not working with a lot of local knowledge, is what I'm saying."

They furrow their brow a little and lift an eyebrow. It was, in fact, not at all what they were saying, but it's not ...not correct. "If you can make your explosions have parameters like that...yes. A targeted projectile would be better than an general explosion. Assuming something crazy happens in a tunnel again, which we can't, but." Teddy huffs a laugh and gives him a thumbs up. "Yeah, if we're in a claustrophobic underground bunker and you need to kill something, grab the bullet potion and not the bomb potion."

Teddy pulls her knees up to her chin and sets her arms on them and her chin on her arms, squinting at him for a second, and then another one for effect. "You know you just asked 'what do people do for fun around here', right? Sometimes, when you ask that, there's this thing that happens..."

He goes on, and Teddy falls silent, nodding. Their busy-ness has often been because of a thing they're pretty sure qualifies as fun, even when it's stressful, but...when they stop having things to do, things get bad. Their mind just doesn't tolerate it well.

"Yeah," they say, slowly, nodding. "I -- kinda get that. I mean. I was in a band back home, and we played gigs, real tours, as much as we could. Booked all our own shows, all that stuff. I was in college for the first couple years, and I was on a merit scholarship, so I made damn sure I showed up to class, got my schoolwork done, got As. In high school I was in a different one that played local venues. There was only a break of maybe two years where all I concentrated on was school. Which...actually, that's kind of a lie. I was still recording my own stuff. And also that was the least concentrating I even did, I think I partied more not being in a band than when I was in one.

I love making music, so I'm sure I had a lot more fun than the kind of being busy that you're talking about. But...you know, it is kind of a culture shock to not have a plan like, a month out, now that you say it."

Teddy doesn't bring up that it's a culture shock she, admittedly, has already had to get used to in some ways, even if being at home isn't quite as slowed-down as being in Solvunn. No one needs to hear about having seizures mid tour within an hour of meeting her. She's rambling too much already.

They smile, genuinely, when he describes Eddie as excellent. Points in his favor. Teddy huffs a little laugh. "No, I wasn't going to show you this really cool place where the sun goes down. Uh, the Horizon is what they call this..." Teddy hovers. "Kind of another dimension?" They make a face; that sounds crazy.

Maybe less crazy to someone who makes potions. She forges onward, just doing her best to explain. "You usually have to go with someone your first time, because it can be kind of weird. If you know how to meditate, or just kind of relax and clear your mind -- I usually focus on my breathing and these days, it helps to picture it. Basically, all of -- us, the people who were Summoned here -- are able to. I guess it's like ...astral projection, sort of, or like a dream? Your body stays here, but it looks, feels, like you're really there. And everyone has their own little space that, once you're familiar with it, you can kind of manifest things into. Whether that's ...your house, or, fucking Disneyland, a really cool forest, whatever you want.

And people can meet up there, too," she adds, because that was sort of the point she was getting to. "Even if they don't live anywhere near each other, if two people agree to go into the Horizon, it's not -- very big, spatially? So that can be another way to have fun, especially if your domain has...you know, fun stuff. Like. I've got guitars there but I also have an old Nintendo, you know? If someone wanted to play Mario Brothers with me we could, hypothetically."

Chris does in fact mean everything Teddy has mentioned. Or ever would mention. He's pretty sure it doesn't exist in San Francisco. But especially the Walmart part.

"For someone without much of a working knowledge, that's...pretty accurate."

He gave Teddy a look. HA, could he make his potions and spells have parameters like that, of course he could. Okay, potions more likely than spells, but he could make it work in a pinch. "Bullet potion vs bomb potion. Love that classification."

Music, okay, that was something they could bond over. Kind of. "I don't really know a lot about music but my mom owns a club? So.....I can listen to it?" Yeah that sounded kind of pathetic. Like a really, really bad pick up line. Okay, next try. "At least you got farther than I did schooling wise. Shit kind of hit the fan around 9th grade." That was putting it mildly. Chris hadn't figured out what he did for fun because he'd never really been allowed too. Never been given the time. Responsibility. World ending drama. All that shit.

"All right. Show me this other dimension you got here."

[ Eddie is a mainstay throughout the commune, and it’s not surprising to find him anywhere and everywhere at any given time of day, helping with small tasks and entertaining locals with wild stories he’s thought up on the fly. He’s in the middle of telling a group of children a story about a dragon who hoards soup spoons instead of treasure—but he spies Chris, lining up what can only be potion ingredients, he cuts his story short and hurries over to him. He’s not going to pass up the opportunity to live his best Gandalf life.

The Walmart comment stops him in his tracks, though, and gets a clearly judgmental look. ]

Wow. Way to throw a wrench in my sense of whimsy, dude.

[ He crouches down beside his fellow Summoned, picks up an ingredient, gives it a whiff, and grimaces. ]

What if I found you a bird feather?

[Chris spots Eddie, hurrying over to him like he just opened up a penny candy store. He opened his mouth to make a remark about it, and then remembered not everyone grew up doing this and it was probably pretty damn cool to people who didn't get blown up by demons every week. So he put his judgement away. For now. Until Eddie took offense to occult shopping at Walmart.]

Is Chinatown better? We don't have that either. But if you get me that bird feather, then, we can make an explosive potion.

[Chris actually grinned. Yes, he really did want that potion. Something that mimicked his mothers power? Yes please. It was one of the potions he knew by heart, brought about by losing your mother when you were young and this was just a fucked up way to keep her close by.]

Of all the potions, that's the one you'd like to do? Good choice. But where are you going to find a bird feather? Just go up to one and ask nicely?

I’m from middle-of-nowhere Indiana, dude. We didn't have a Chinatown. I guess we didn't have a Walmart either, but…you didn't have to tell me you could just buy this shit at the grocery store.

[ Eddie is an odd sort of bird. No, he didn’t grow up with demons and mixing potions and spells, but it’s something he’s been wildly into since he read Earthsea as a kid. Chris has given him a lot to think about in terms of his own mortality—thing he’d definitely rather not think about at all, but he’s willing to risk a little discomfort if it means helping out with a real and genuine potion. ]

Uh…not exactly, but hold that thought.

[ Grinning broadly, he hops back to his feet and takes off at a sprint, disappearing somewhere further into the settlement. He’s gone for several minutes, to the point it’s questionable if he’ll even return at all, but when he does, he has two white feathers clutched in his hand. He presents them to Chris by dipping into a deep, theatrical bow. ]

The family I stay with keeps chickens, so assuming mostly flightless birds count? Consider your shopping list completed—plus extra.

If it helps you can't buy all this stuff at a grocery store. Like dried toad powder or pixie wings. Not sure how my suppliers actually gets pixie wings since I'm guessing they didn't just ask nicely, but personally I try not to think about it too much.

[Unlike most of his family, Chris had a more neutral alignment. Especially compared to his very lawful good mother. Feel free to dissect him Eddie to your D&D heart's content. And unlike Eddie, Chris grew up with this stuff, not just reading it in books. It was a little less cool to him when the monsters in the books actually came to kill you. But he totally understood how this was cool to people.

His eyebrows shot up when Eddie ran off and just waited patiently for a few minutes, wondering if he should just start the potion. And then he scampered back, proudly holding aloft chicken feathers. Chris totally should have thought of that. Duh.]

That's perfect actually.

[He gave Eddie a look, smiling.]

You really want to make that explosive potion don't you.

I wanna make something. I just happened to know where to get you your bird feathers. And to be totally honest with you? Sleeping potion sounded kind of boring without a hungry dragon to throw it at.

[ He’s clearly excited by the prospect of helping with an explosive potion, though. He lays the feathers down alongside Chris’s other ingredients, and without even being invited, takes a seat beside him.

This is a two person job now. ]

Alright, what next?

[Chris would totally call Eddie's bluff on that, but, explosive potions were also really, really handy to have. He contained a laugh as Eddie sat down next to him and wondered if this was how his mom felt when he insisted on helping to stir the potions when he was young.]

Alright, save the feathers, we're putting those in last.

[Chris started moving around ingredients and grouping them together. He pointed at each of them, showing the other man the order they needed to go in.]

Drop the first two in, start stirring when it turns white. Eventually it will hopefully turn purple. Purple is good. Purple equals explosions.

[Chris eyed Eddie for a moment. If he knew where to get the feathers......]

Do you know where I can get some crystals? Like 5 or 6?

[ Eddie is admittedly not thinking about the usefulness of an explosion potion. He’s not thinking about the finale product at all, really. Instead, he’s got his heart set on the sheer act of creating it. There’s something about that part of it that sparks joy in his would-be-wizard heart.

So he happily tucks the chicken feathers behind his ear and begins to follow Chris’s instructions, dropping in ingredients one by one under his guidance. He nearly flails when the potion turns white, and begins to stir carefully until— ]

Holy shit!

[ He laughs as the potion begins to turn from white to purple, positively beaming. ]

That’s good, right? Like, that’s the right shade of purple?

[ It doesn’t hurt to be sure. ]

Well, I'm probably not gonna get those from the chickens, but, uh…I could probably track some down for you. Do you need it for this or…?

[If Eddie enjoys creating potions so much, Chris has a lot he can help with. Or just throw random ingredients into a pot and see what they come up with. New world, different ingredients, maybe they'd come up with some cool new potion. It was something he'd done dozens of times before, something his mom had taught him and her grandmother had taught her before. How to create potions and keep your hands busy. Let your instinct guide you. Maybe, just maybe, Eddie's desire to do magic was a cool secret ingredient. Maybe he'd help come up with something new and awesome.

So, Eddie laughed and smiled, and Chris laughed and smiled.]

Wait till you see the ones that blow up and start spurting smoke while you make them! And yeah, that's the right shade of purple.

[Chris grabbed a spoon, scooped a little of the potion and flicked it at a nearby rock. Which promptly exploded. He turned to Eddie and offered the spoon in case he wanted to try a little bit of magic himself. Because that man seemed like he was eating this up.]

The crystals are for a different project. Kind of like a shield.

[Sure that shield also electrocuted people, but Chris was being careful with the kind of information he was dolling out. He could always show him after he got the crystals.]

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You doing this for any particular reason? Or ...

[ Rocket's a nosy creature by nature; it's a part of his personality, he likes to know what's what and who's who, especially as someone who's been hanging around Solvunn now for longer than he's really ever been in one place. He might give no mind to more than half of 'em in the end, but he still likes to know.

Which is what's got him hanging around where Chris is, arms crossed over his chest, looking towards the smorgasbord of ingredients and kitchenware. He's pretty sure Himeka's gonna be using that soup pot for a seasonal stew in the upcoming mingle but ... eh. A pot's a pot as far as he's concerned, no matter what disgusting shit it might be used for at the moment. ]

What the hell is a wall shop gonna do for you?

Holy crap, a talking raccoon.

[Chris looked at the ingredients he had set up, eyebrows quirking upward, taking in the racoon who was totally a figment of his imagination. Honestly though, he thought his subconscious would come up with something different. Maybe a family member. A demon. Why a talking raccoon? Brains were weird.]

I'm high. I'm totally high. Something in here is hallucinogenic. Holy fucking crap. Sure, I'll just talk to my hallucination. This is great. Does my hallucination know where to find powdered toad, burdock root or anise? Cloves or bay leaves? Maybe some glass bottles?

[He looked over the ingredients he had set up again, various animal organs and body parts he had liberated from the animal, or asked nicely to take, roots and herbs and anything else he'd been able to scrounge up without an actual occult shop, Walmart or basic civilization nearby. He held up a root.] Maybe this isn't parsnip?

[ It's a damned good thing Rocket now understands his own genetic heritage, and more than that, has accepted it — that being the Procyon lotor or more commonly referred to: raccoon — or this guy wouldn't get another word out past his big-eyed face before Rocket leapt up onto the nearest surface to launch himself at him and claw said eyeballs right out.

As it is, Rocket remains exactly where he's seated, arms still crossed and looking thoroughly unimpressed while the humie goes through his meltdown. ]

Yeah, sure, you're absolutely high.

[ Why not play along, right? ]

And I'm a freakin' figment of your imagination. Better yet, I'm your fairy godparent, here to watch over you as you try to cook something that smells like the underside of Drax's feet. Do you even know what you're doing?

Of course I know what I'm doing. My own hallucination questioning my skills. Freaking figures my own brain is actively against me. This is great. I bet this will be an interesting session with Crane.

[Chris leaned over to smell the steaming, bubbling pot of rather colorful liquid and then wrinkled his nose.] Okay, yeah, it does smell pretty bad. You'd think someone would have made potions smell better by now.

[He looked again at the raccoon.] Okay, brain. I've seen fairies. They don't look like you. So....change into an actual fairy. What's with the raccoon anyway?

[ Who's Crane? What's Crane? Eh, the answer hardly matters. ]

I ain't changing into anything if I don't feel like it. And guess what, buddy? I don't feel like it.

[ Yeah. That's his story and he's sticking to it, petulance and all that. ]

Don't mean I can't change if I want to — and since I'm from your brain and all, you know I'm fully capable of it. Maybe you put something wrong in that potion of yours; or the raccoon's just a visual to fuck with you.

[ He gestures back to the bubbling pot with a claw, serene as they come. Is he going to get into trouble later for messing with newbies? Yeah, probably, but it's a joke, okay! It's funny! Look! They're gonna have a great time laughing over this later. ]

Is it working?

My hallucination talks back to me. What could go wrong with that?

[Chris kept poking with the potion he had been making. Maybe it did something besides be hallucinogenic? Either way, a hallucinogenic potion could be useful. As long as he wasn't near it. Still, seeing a raccoon wasn't exactly normal. If he could call anything in his life normal. But what else could it be?]]

Fine. What do you want then, oh raccoon fairy godmother? Besides your tutu, wings and magic wand.

And keep your mitts out of my pot.

[Chris dropped a piece of something into the pot and it went a little smokey. And he was still hallucinating. Cool.]

What the hell is a 'tutu'?

[ Whatever. Not important. ]

I ain't gonna touch your shit, dude. But you can tell me what you're trying to make, and why you're making it. That's what I want.

[ This is slowly becoming boring, his interest waning. ]

And who knows? Maybe I can uh ... lend you some advice or something. You know, 'cause that's my duty as a raccoon fairy godmother.

It's a potion, what does it look like I'm making? Soup? Who knows what I'm going to find in this freaking place, so I'm coming prepared. Or at least trying to. With oh so limited ingredients. This potion is....kind of like magical mace. It'll stop someone long enough for you to get away. Or....gouge their eyes out. Your choice. So. Any advise as my raccoon fairy godmother?

[Chris narrowed his eyes at Rocket, because seriously what the fuck was with this raccoon induced hallucination?]

Open Log - I feel like I should be cackling

Solvunn - Open

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