2020.03.30 - The Difficult Talks
This log follows the story from: 2020.03.28 - Tentacular Tentacular
The story continues in: 2020.04.15 - Not Those Kind of Brownies
It's one of those days when Port-Au-Fe actually looks like the haven for supernatural beings that it is. Cool fog is just thick enough to leave surfaces looking wet, and what little breeze there is tends to the cool and damp. If it were closer to the coast, one might expect to hear a foghorn and the ding of a buoy in a nearby harbor. As it is, Le Jardin looks like something out of a Sherlock Holmes novel, the street lights creating silvery pools in the weak remnants of the daylight
It's the perfect day to get coffee and hang out. Not that Skitch needs a reason to hang out in the Hidden Grove. He's one hundred percent a fan of their bakery case, and while he doesn't drink a ton of coffee, there's something literally magical about their hot chocolate. It's no wonder it's a favorite of his and a certain pair of brothers. Which explains why the teenager is here, standing in line with said brothers -- or at least one of them. Dressed in his typical khakis and long-sleeved tee, he has his hand jammed in his pockets, grinning as he speaks to the older man. "Yeah...it's on April first. I'm not sure the Universe wasn't having a laugh on Ma." He lifts his eyebrows, and shrugs. "I don't know what I'm gonna do, yet. I guess it depends on what she has planned."
Dean laughs pleasantly as he stands beside Skitch. They're clearly good friends. It's kind of amazing how it's happened that way, since they only met a few weeks ago. But some people seem to just click. They just fit together, and that would appear to be the case here. "Yeah, we can always do a little something after you party down with your mom. She should have that though. Not to be mopey or drag the mood down, but you gotta appreciate that stuff. Gotta value your time with those people. People who'll do that kinda stuff. Actually make your birthday special." He reaches a hand over to clap on Skitch's shoulder.
Ciaran's a regular at the Hidden Grove, and as he walks through the door in a hunter green polo and a pair of jeans, he doesn't even make it to the line before he's signaling the barista for his usual. Helps when your not-quite-a-boyfriend works at one of your regular haunts. As he takes his place in line, he's a few individuals behind the pair having a conversation up ahead. His hands are shoved into his pockets and he seems to be lost in thought. As the line slowly moves forward, he casts his eyes around the place. Not spotting anyone familiar, he goes back to staring straight ahead.
"That's the plan!" Skitch says, giving Dean a warm look that could mean...anything, really. There's a gamut and everything. He looks around as the line shuffles forward, wrinkling his nose. "I guess last time I was in here was with Stiles and his boyfriend," he notes. "Stiles was very interested in my arm and how it happened." He shrugs. "They had never heard of murderous cannibal brownie things. At least not like those." He looks around again, and lowers his voice. "I think next time we go out to the woods, we should take Derek or Scott, or one of the witches." He lifts his eyebrows. "You know, just in case."
The new guy walking in gets a glance from Dean, but he doesn't dwell too long. He knows how to keep it on the down low. Got to keep himself aware of his surroundings. "Yeah, I think you're right. If we run into anything, they're gonna be a big help. Not that I like to admit not being able to sort it all out by myself." He flashes a grin, making it clear he's just joking. Mostly. "I bet between the hotel and Rowanwood, we're gonna be sure to find somebody."
Aaaand that's all it takes for Ciaran to be interested. His keen hearing picks up the conversation up ahead and his head turns, eyes locking onto the speakers. Well, well, well. He narrows his eyes, tilting his head and making it a point to listen more carefully to their conversation. His eyes shift past them for a moment, noticing the barista is indeed preparing his tea. The hands that were in his pockets come out, one of them toying with his bracelet.
Skitch chuckles at Dean's grin, and shakes his head as they step up to the counter. "Come on. You've seen a lot, but I'm sure there's plenty out there still to discover and terrify you." He places his order -- hot chocolate and a plate of cherry chocolate-chip muffins, and steps aside so Dean can add his to it. "Although, if it's something -you've- never seen, and it's something -Lance- hasn't seen...." He lets that trail off, raising his eyebrows pointedly. Looking around, he spots the kid with his ears pricked, and he lifts his chin in the universal teenage male greeting. "'Sup, dude?"
Following Skitch, Dean steps up to the counter and makes his order, which is exactly the same as Skitch's. "Oh, Lance dunno what's going on either? Maybe we could ask him to come with us. Surely got to have something in there about what this stuff is. Whatever it is." He glances over to Ciaran when Skitch addresses him. Yeah, that kid's definitely listening in! So Dean turns to square himself in Ciaran's direction, only a little protective. Both Sams would probably fuss at him about it, but his brother would be more vocal with his objection, probably. He'll wait to see where this goes.
Ciaran doesn't even try to disguise the fact that he's now paying attention to the pair. There was only one person between them, so when that person decides to move to the side for a moment and browse the snacks, he takes his chance. Sliding around, he mutters "Mine's ready to go anyways," and steps up to the counter. As he does so, he looks Dean squarely in the eyes but doesn't say anything. True to his word, the barista has his tea ready and has already rung it up. Ciaran slides over a few bills, not waiting for any change, and takes his tea.
Glancing sideways, Ciaran says in a soft voice that won't carry very far, "You know, you should be careful going into those woods. They're not safe right now." Shrugging, he flashes the pair a genuine smile and adds, "Just a friendly tip." That said, he moves away and takes a seat not far, blowing over his tea. His eyes are downcast, but there's a smile playing on his lips.
Skitch watches the other kid suspiciously as he moves to get his order, and he fishes his own wallet out to pay for his and Dean's as the other kid pays. He's in the middle of paying for his when the other guy speaks, and Skitch snorts a laugh before he can catch himself. "No shit, dude." He holds up his right arm, where the end of a scar is visible at the end of his sleeve. He gathers up his plate, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at Dean before heading towards the table where the other kid has landed. Time to snoop.
Dean makes a face that answers that with an acknowledgement and agreement. When he collects his stuff, he follows Skitch to the table, but of course he takes a big gulp out of the hot chocolate first. It's too chilly outside for springtime! And it's nice to get a warmup from that tasty, tasty hot chocolate. He does kind of regret taking such a big mouthful, though, from all the richness. It's just about too much! Fortunately, Dean has a lot of tolerance built to rich food and drink.
Ciaran looks up from his tea, finally taking a sip of it. The smile that was playing at his lips doesn't go anywhere as he says, "My, what a surprise. Didn't expect you to follow me. So, judging by what I overheard earlier and that," he indicates Skitch's arm with a nod, "Souvenir, I'm guessing your foray into the forest wasn't all fun and games?" Leaning back slightly, he takes another sip. "Sorry for eavesdropping, but I'd be rather disheartened if I were to hear someone met with an untimely demise in the forest." Arching a brow, he says rather bluntly "I hope you're not planning on going back in anytime soon."
Skitch nods at the assessment, wrinkling his nose a bit at the way the kid talks. There's something a little familiar about it. "Actually, none of our forays into the forest have been fun and games," he says. "In fact," he says, jerking his head at Dean. "He's nearly died at least twice." He sets his plate on the table, sliding into a chair without invitation. "But we're not going back," he says. "Not without some serious backup." He takes a bite of one of his muffins, talking around it. "I'm Skitch. He's Dean. What happened to -you- out there?" He grins. "Or are you the crazy guy at the beginning of the horror movie who tries to warn us?"
"Hey, I didn't die even once!" Dean huffs, looking at Skitch almost accusatorily. "I mean, I got my clothes burned all to hell, but that don't mean I was near *death*! I know how to take care of myself!" When Skitch drops into one of the chairs at the table, Dean just immediately sets down his plate and mug and kicks out a chair, taking it for himself and easing down into it. "He ain't old enough to be that guy," Dean chimes in. "He'd have to have some kinda weird distinguishing feature, like one eye that's a different color, or a scar."
Ciaran looks intently at Skitch and Dean, clearly thinking something over. "My name is Ciaran, and I wouldn't call myself a crazy guy. I hadn't heard about any other incidents before the one I was involved in a few weeks ago at the park." Looking at Dean, he arches a brow. "What exactly did you run into out there? I'm curious what else is lurking beneath the canopy that I'm not yet aware of. Particularly if it's capable of causing a fire." Turning back to Skitch, he adds "Backup is a good idea. It took..." he pauses, thinking something over. "Five people at the park. And four deeper in the woods. Both including myself, and I'm probably one of the best equipped to handle the forest's life." He pauses, a bitter look crossing his face. "It's /normal/ life, at least." A bold statement considering he knows nothing about the other two.
Skitch colors a bit at the memory of a nude, singed Dean, but he grins at the man's vociferous defense. He sips at his hot chocolate as Ciaran introduces himself, and he lifts a shoulder. "Wendigos," he offers. "Well, one wendigo twice. And Dean actually started the fire, because -- well, wendigo." Skitch holds out a hand, palm up. "And there was this nest of...somethings. Little gray things with fangs and claws that tried to eat us." He listens as the other boy talks about what other encounters have taken, and he looks at Dean sort of bleakly. His attention catches that last bit, though, and he narrows his gaze thoughtfully. "What makes you so qualified?"
"Well, the wendigo was in another forest, but close enough. But *this* forest, from *this* park, that was the little things that got so angry." Dean makes a mildly unhappy face, then starts in on his plate of muffins. The first one doesn't last long at all, though he does meet Skitch's eyes when he gives him that look. "Hmm?" He looks to Ciaran, then back to Skitch, then just concentrates on his food and drink. "Anyway, felt like something was really upsetting things in more ways'n one."
"Huh." he says thoughtfully as he chews on his lower lip. "That's different. Completely. Another source, then. Shit." His brows draw together and he looks momentarily upset. Sighing, he responds "I appreciate the information. I'm looking into what's going on, because the forest is very important to me. I don't like the idea of someone messing with it." Taking another sip, he adds "And believe me, someone is most definitely messing with it."
Shaking his head, Ciaran adds "That said, I would advise against heading in there anytime soon... backup or not... unless you're prepared to deal with more of the same. And possibly something entirely different. I haven't figured out all the pieces to the puzzle. Yet." Skitch's question earns a pointed look. "Let's just say I have a way with nature, and leave it at that. Since something is causing an imbalance in the forest, I have an advantage most people don't."
"Yeah. Nothing felt natural about it," Skitch agrees, nodding at Dean. "And those things in the park were -super- nasty. They were poisonous or something." He scratches his right arm absently, listening as Ciaran explains. "An advantage, huh? Like, magic or something?" He doesn't sound all that surprised by that potentially being the case. "That's cool. We know some witches." He frowns, though, considering the odds. "If it took four or five people, though..." he wrinkles his nose, looking at Dean with that bleak look again. Hey. He's still new to all of this, really. "That's sobering."
Dean leans back in his chair, and he looks Ciaran over again. In the end, he gives a casual shrug of his shoulders. "If you wanna pitch in, great. No use in anybody goin' it alone. But I ain't gonna just sit around with my thumb up my ass, kid. I see something wrong, and I need to get to the bottom of it and make sure nobody else gets hurt by it. So if you wanna talk about it, tell us something useful. I don't got time for beating around the bush. Okay?" He washes this down with an almost hilariously dainty sip of his hot chocolate. It's just on the threshold of almost being too sweet, but it's in that perfect sweet spot. "And I'm pretty agreeable to working together. We gotta come together if we're gonna help people and protect 'em."
Ciaran nods solemnly. "Yes, four or five people. None of them you're run-of-the-mill variety, either. Since you're familiar with witches, I'll go ahead and point out we had a witch with us both times and still struggled." Shrugging, he takes another sip of his tea. "I'll have to look into these poisonous creatures you mentioned, now. That may be my next lead."
Ciaran levels Dean with a long, intense look lasting at least thirty seconds. "Okay. I'll bite. You're dealing with something referred to as an 'abomination' and it's extraplanar, as near as I can tell. Not even from this existence. How it got here, I'm not sure. That's part of the mystery. But it's leaving nasties here and there, and those nasties are creating even more ugly things. The first was a creepy crawly tentacle-something-or-other that was mutating plants. That one's gone, now. But there are clearly others, judging by whatever did that," he says as he indicates Skitch's arm with his hands as he holds his mug.
Taking another sip, Ciaran adds "The only reason I'm able to do anything at all is because it's the forest. Like I said, I have a way with nature." Shrugging, he goes on "If you want to investigate, that's fine by me. But I suggest you not do it alone. I have a few friends and we're already looking into the matter, I'm sure they wouldn't mind another hand." Pausing, he thinks "If there was something else in another forest, I wouldn't know about it. I'm focused on dealing with the threat in this one right now."
Skitch watches the exchange between Ciaran and Dean with a slightly apprehensive look, although it's not clear what exactly he's expecting to happen. Dean's comments get a small wince, but Skitch isn't the Sam to call him down. So he just sits there, chewing on his muffin and listening carefully. There's something that clicks in his eyes when Ciaran starts explaining, and the corners of his mouth twitch slightly upward in inward triumph. Then he's sobering, and leaning forward. "'Extraplanar' is not a word I expected," he admits, leaning back in his chair. "And tentacles just put me in mind of Lovecraft, and it's just a big bucket of yikes."
For all his gruff plain-spoken personality, Dean seems pretty agreeable to the response. He smiles a little bit, nodding and listening as he works his way through the next half of a muffin. "Yeah! Sounds good to me. I just don't like to feel like I'm bein' sidelined when I could be helping. Skitch here's good at finding out info and putting things together. I'm teaching him more about fighting so he don't have worry about it so much." He sucks the fingertips of one hand, to get all that delicious chocolate cherry sticky off. "So, some kinda creepy monster. I wonder if there's anything about 'em in the library at Rowanwood. Gotta be, right?" He looks to Skitch.
Ciaran looks to Skitch and gives a nod. "Now you understand exactly what you're dealing with. I was fortunate enough to come across someone who understands these things. He helped in the forest." Ciaran leaves out the part about not being sure who, if anyone, can be trusted. They need all the help they can get. Listening to Dean, he shakes his head. "Not familiar with Rowanwood, but it's entirely possible there would be information about these things if it's got some kind of magical archive. They're not mysteries, just not from these parts. I only know what that one guy's told me."
Taking another sip, Ciaran wrinkles his nose slightly as the tea has gone cold during the conversation. Sizing Skitch up, he asks "Are you mostly normal? Human. Little to no combat ability. Etc?" His tone is blunt, but not aggressive. "No offense, but if so, please don't go into the forest. Stick to what you know and help from out here. Any information would be appreciated, even if it's figuring out where the next one of these things might be. The first was near the park. Figure out where you were attacked and maybe we'll have a start on the second one's location."
"Seems like a lot of people are on this," Skitch notes. "So that's good. Many hands, and all that." He doesn't lick his fingers clean like Dean, wiping them instead on the thin napkin that came with the plate. He nods at Dean's thought, and considers it. "I can ask Quentin," he says. "If anyone would know about it or if they had books, it'd be him." He blinks at Ciaran's question, and shrugs. "I'm as mundane as he is," he says a bit peevishly, indicating Dean. "I may not have years of experience, but I'm learning." He holds up his right arm and frowns at it. "But I guess I take your point. I'll see what I can figure out."
"Dude, don't be a dick." Dean casually remarks to Ciaran before he takes another sip, swallowing it down faster than he would've really liked. "We should keep in touch. Coordinate. You let me take care of mine and worry about your own. Maybe we can team up and give this thing the boot." He turns slightly to Skitch. "Good idea. You go talk to Quentin, see what he knows and what he can do. If we can get him to come with us, I'm sure we ain't gonna be any kind of pushover. You remember where we got attacked?"
Ciaran narrows his eyes at Dean before he nods to Skitch. "I didn't mean to offend you, but there's no point in being delicate about this. And you already said Dean conjured fire, which means he's not as mundane at all. At least, not by my standards." Ciaran's glance at Dean also brings a frown with it. "I'm not trying to be a dick. I've seen one of the things behind this and it wasn't pretty. It also had the most intense feeling of /wrongness/ imaginable. Call me an asshole if you want, but if he's not a seasoned combatant then I would think you'd be considerate enough to not want him in harm's way." Yep, Ciaran is being blunt alright.
Shaking his head, Ciaran adds "I'm not normally this much of an ass, to be honest. But if he's already suffered an attack... next time he might get away with a lot worse than a scratch. And I don't want to see anyone seriously hurt by these things if possible. The forest is my domain to watch, and the fact that they're here is... alarming."
Resting his hand palm-side up on the table, Ciaran asks in a soft voice "May I see? I can't do anything about it, but perhaps looking at it will give me some insight. If you'd rather not, I understand. Some people aren't fond of being touched by strangers." Shrugging, he adds "I can't fix it or anything like that. But if there's still anything lingering, I should be able to tell. The last thing we went up against wasn't poisonous."
"Conjured it with accelerant and a match," Skitch clarifies, hitching his eyebrows. "There an explosion and everything. And that was the other woods, out towards the coast." He doesn't speak again as Ciaran clarifies, but he nods a bit, looking over at Dean to gauge the other man's reaction, albeit he's trying to look casual about it. When Ciaran asks to see his arm, he shrugs, and hikes up his sleeve as he extends it. The scar runs from inside his elbow almost to his wrist, and while it's puckered enough to indicate it was deep, it's been well-healed by medicine assisted with magic. There's definitely some darkness about it, nauseous traces that linger like stains along the edges of Skitch's being. Not changing the color, but definitely new to the pattern. "They attacked in a big group," Skitch explains. "Ever hit a hornet's nest with a rock? Only we didn't throw a rock. They were just...-there-."
Dean purses his lips and sets his jaw. He finishes the muffin, then polishes off the rest of his hot chocolate, setting the mug down. Then he pushes out from the table and gets to his feet. "K, I think we're done here. Skitch, you comin'?" He watches as the two interact, but he's clearly made his choice. No reason to stick around if the experience isn't going to be what he'd like. What other reason is there to go out to a restaurant?
Ciaran frowns. "Oh." He seems a little deflated at the mention of using matches to start the fire. As Skitch holds his arm out, Ciaran takes it in his hand and tilts his head. With his other hand, he traces just above the scar. Not actually touching it, he frowns. "Yeah. There's still something there, although it's not... directly a threat at the moment. Hopefully it will fade with time, but I'd still be cautious. Wish I could heal you, but that's outside the scope of my gifts." Tapping his lower lip thoughtfully, Ciaran adds "If poison is the next threat on the menu, we'll have to be more careful. As for the things being there, with no reason, sounds about right. Either a byproduct of the thing's presence or something it made. I'm still figuring out which."
Ciaran nods as Dean stands and beckons Skitch. "I agree that we should keep in touch. Sorry that this wasn't a nice conversation. I'm a little on edge at the moment. I'm normally much more pleasant, I promise," he confesses with a smile. Taking a card out of his pocket, he slides it across the table. It's for the Sylvan Court, a local club. "Just call there and ask for Ciaran. They'll get ahold of me." Inclining his head, he adds "Thanks for the information."
Skitch listens to the information with interest, filing it away for future use -- because, hello, important information. He seems a bit surprised at Dean's reaction to Ciaran, but nods at the question, pulling his arm back with an apologetic look at the other boy. "Sorry, dude. We gotta jet. But I'll call when we've got more information." He offers a quick, tight smile before he slides from his chair, snagging his other muffin and cupping it in his hand. Taking the card, he glances at the printing, and a muscle jumps in his cheek. "Of course," he mutters, shoving the card in his pocket. He lifts a hand, then. "It was definitely a conversation, dude," he says, offering a final tight smile. "We'll be in touch." And with a final lift of his hand, he's taking off to catch up with Dean.
The story continues in: 2020.04.15 - Not Those Kind of Brownies