2020.05.01 - Plan of Action
This log follows the story from: 2020.04.15 - Not Those Kind of Brownies
The story continues in: 2020.05.05 - Deus Ex Libris
The vibrant colors of the sky indicate that dusk is upon Port-Au-Feu. Only a few spare clouds can be seen in the sky outside, and a pleasant breeze blows through the city.
At the moment, Ciaran is seated at the furthest table from the door in the Hidden Grove cafe. Its busier times have come and gone, leaving only about a quarter of the place full at this hour. He tugs at one of the long sleeves of his black button-up, a nicer shirt than usual for him. Dressed in a pair of khaki pants, he's clearly trying to shed the t-shirt-and-jeans look for a day.
He'd called around yesterday and planned the meeting for today, with several parties invited to cover all his bases. Things were not getting any better in the woods, and it was high time to put an end to all of this. He watches the door with interest, taking sips of his tea every so often. Checking his phone, he gives a little nod to himself. Soon.
Quentin is well-dressed, if casually-dressed, as he most always is. He looks clean and sharp and well-groomed, probably expressly for today's gathering. When he walks into the cafe, he surveys the place to see who's already gathered. Once Ciaran's spotted, he raises a hand in greeting and goes immediately to meet him.
"Hey!" Quentin calls out. "Aun--er, Myrtle, Ms. Myrtle Snow, suggested I stop by as a sort of representative of the witches. I'm Quentin Troy, I live at Rowanwood."
If there is one person in the world that doesn't check his phone near enough, it's Dean Winchester. But he makes it a point to look like he totally got the message and RSVPed without his brother's help, plus arrived well in time for this meeting about the threat in the woods. Last time was pretty serious for Skitch, so this time they've talked him into staying back behind and off the front lines. Better for everyone involved, especially the Winchesters, who were pretty sure to get a flaying alive by Skitch's mother. Scary woman.
When Dean catches sight of Ciaran, he gives him a nod and wanders over in that direction, immediately veering off to the counter to get some treat. Ciaran's here. He ain't going anywhere soon. Let him talk to people.
Otis is one of those parties called -- a) because he's encountered whatever this is, and b) giant werebears are not a bad thing to have on the list of invites. So that is why the big man is here, pushing through the door of the cafe and scanning the room until he finds Ciaran where he's tucked away, and then he's moving in that direction.
Pulling up at the table just after Quentin and Dean, Otis gives the witch a long, appraising look, and inhales deeply through his nose before he moves around to stand enforcer-style next to the fae (well, almost enforcer-style, if enforcers ruffled their boss' hair). He lifts his chin at the other man, grunting a greeting that, while not amiable, isn't nearly as intimidating as his posture would imply.
Taliesin got the text and while he wasn't sure what they were going to be doing, he thought it best that he bring his guitar case with him. He's dressed in a dark green Henley and a pair of comfortable jeans, something he doesn't mind getting woods on. When he spots the gathering at the cafe he slides right in. "Evening everyone." He says as he pulls over his own seat and plops down. "This looks like a damn party, it's a pity we're doing something unsavory.
Noah had been mostly scribbling in a notebook behind the counter as soon as thing had quieted down enough for him to do so. He was acutely aware of Ciaran's presence, offering a curl of his fingers toward the fae upon noticing him at one of the tables in the corner. He pays little attention to anyone, or anything, else when something strikes him and he scribbles more quickly and with some intensity. Apparently satisfied with whatever he'd written, Noah looks up and blinks a few times at Dean across the counter.
"Oh, hey! Can I get anything for you?" he asks, his attention shifting for a moment toward Otis and Taliesin, along with the stranger Quentin, all of whom seem to be in one little area.
Ciaran looks up at the greeting from Quentin, a faint smile on his lips. "Ah, yes, I did mention our little get together to Ms. Snow. I wasn't sure if she could make it, I understand she's a remarkably busy lady. So kind of her to send someone in her place." His tone is friendly, even though he's never met Quentin before. Tonight's gathering would be an opportunity for several people to meet, so it was only appropriate that he'd get to meet someone new as well. He spots Dean making a beeline for the counter and talking to Noah, but there's no rush until everyone is here and settled.
Otis' arrival and subsequent hair ruffling earns a faint swat. "I actually styled my hair for once, don't mess it up," he mutters. No doubt he borrowed someone else's hair gel, since he isn't the type to have any himself. Ciaran gives Taliesin a nod as he sits down. "Thanks for coming, Tali. Can't very well be accused of stepping on Autumn's toes when I have a representative here, can I?" There's a sly smirk on his face as he admits that.
Noah, behind the counter, gets a longer look than Otis does from Quentin. He offers an amiable smile, quite a cordial, warm gesture, before turning back to Ciaran and the hulking bear-man next to him. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance," he carefully, clearly intones, looking around at the accommodations and claiming a chair to seat himself. This sort of situation agrees with him. He seems almost at home in the meeting, like he'd done this more than a few times before.
"Yeah! One of those chocolate cherry muffins and a coffee. Whatever's fine." Dean slides his wallet out of his pocket and opens it up, glancing back at Ciaran calling the meeting to order and all. He flashes a smile over that way and pairs a wave up with it, just wanting to encourage things to keep rolling. He'll be all the way there in a minute or two. "Thanks."
Taliesin smiles to Noah. "Just some tea love, whatever you have hot." He leans back in his chair, smirking to Otis and Ciaran. "Who better than their beloved bard?" He does a mock bow from his seat before he nods to the others. "I'm Taliesin by the way, in case anyone wished to ask, and yes it is a pleasure to meet me, I know."
Otis is content to loom, and to ignore Ciaran's muttering about his coiffed hair. Taliesin's arrival gets another, less identifiable grunt, and the big man's black eyes glitter a moment as they land on the bard. Dean's wave catches his attention and he narrows his eyes in that direction, knitting his brow and folding his arms across his chest. But the man is smiling, so he turns his attention to the table. "Otis," he offers, in yet another grunt, motioning at his chest.
As the little group gets together, sans the ones at the counter, Ciaran fills Quentin in. "So, I'm not sure if Ms. Snow had an opportunity to explain what we're dealing with. There's something in the woods stirring up trouble. A rather large, or so I assume, something. We've danced three times with the creatures it's thrown at us and come out winners so far." His cheeks blush a bit as he adds "Though not without some collateral damage." IE Skitch. Ciaran rubs the back of his neck a little bashfully as he adds "Fortunately, Ms. Snow was with us that time so I'm hoping everything turned out alright." His eyes dart over to Dean, making a mental note to ask about Skitch. "Someone else helping out who's familiar with the things, Abominations as he refers to them, mentioned we might want to do more research. Rowanwood's library has come up more than a few times."
"You should come by Rowanwood and use the library." Quentin makes himself very comfortable in his chair, listening to what's being discussed around him. When he's addressed, he nods a few times himself, hands folded in his lap with a demure sort of seeming lack of concern. He has made himself comfortable in this place, but that's easy to do. "Otis," he continues after a moment, glancing in that formidable man's direction. "I'm not trying to be unpleasant, but could you try scowling less at our allies, if that were at all possible?"
Noah nods to Dean, then settles a warm chocolate cherry muffin on a plate for him, and pours him a cup of coffee. "That'll be...3.50," he says, offering the fellow a friendly smile as he processes the transaction. Looking over to the table, Noah prepares some more drinks and heads over.
"I figured you might be thirsty," he says as he offers a cup of pomegranate green tea to Ciaran, cheeks reddened just a hint as he looks to Taliesin, Otis, and Quentin. He sets a cup of Earl Grey in front of Taliesin, then folds the serving platter against his chest. "Can I get anything for anyone? Do you need sugar, or honey, lemon...milk?" he asks as he looks to Taliesin.
"Thanks, bud!" Dean slides Noah a five dollar bill and waves his hand, taking the plate and his drink and heading over to the very conspicuously populated table in the otherwise empty place. He takes a chair, drags it out, and sits down after setting his snack on the table. Then the dude from the counter is right there! So he gives Noah another nod and then digs into his muffin. That's good eating. "Skitch's fine," he chimes in, when the subject is brought up. Give Ciaran some peace of mind. "You wanna talk thirsty--" But he stops before he finishes that sentence, smiling a little more awkwardly after that to Noah. "Thanks. Tastes great."
Otis regards Quentin for a long moment, his expression neutral as he takes in the witch. Then he smiles widely, and raises two fingers to his temple as he bends at the waist ever so slightly. Then he folds his arms back over his chest, and scratches at his beard. When Dean appears and seats himself, the big man offers a (friendly!) nod, his black eyes sliding over to Quentin amusedly. Who or what a Skitch is, he can only guess.
Ciaran gives Noah a nod. "Thank you, this cup's gone cold on me." He picks up the almost-done tea which has now cooled off and sets it to the side. Taking a sip from his new pomegranate tea, Ciaran raises his hand to cover his mouth and stifle a giggle as Quentin addresses Otis. "You'll have to forgive him, he's a bit of a grumpy bear." He gives Otis a smile before turning back to Quentin. "I appreciate the offer, Quentin. I'm Ciaran McGrath, by the way. Sorry for not introducing myself sooner. There's a lot on my mind lately, sometimes my manners escape me." As Dean joins them as well, he gives the man a nod. "Thanks for letting me know. I was a bit worried, even though Ms. Snow seemed to have the matter under control." His gaze travels between Noah and Quentin as he adds "Noah here might be interested in Rowanwood's library as well. I'm not really much for deep diving into books, so I'd probably defer to him on that one."
"Bon merci." Quentin breaks into a more tooth-baring smile, though it's not the same kind of tone that it would be if he were a bear, baring teeth, of course. He doesn't do that. "As Auntie Myrtle would say." But the way he pronounces it so perfectly may indicate that it's not only Myrtle Snow with a penchant for the French tongue. A little chuckle escapes him, and he dips his head in the best approximation of the much more dramatic gesture from Otis, responding in kind.
When Ciaran starts speaking again, Quentin turns back to him and Noah, lifting his hand before him. "Oh yes, I thought I'd speak to him later. Noah...you know you're a witch, right?" His smile turns gentler when he shifts his full attention to Noah, there with his tray as a breastplate. "We have programs running at the Hotel Oktober, and you're welcome to come by. But be sure to stop by Rowanwood. The library will blow you away."
Taliesin smiles at Noah and shakes his head. "I'm fine, why don't you join us? You still have your break right?" Turning to Dean, Taliesin nods his head as he pulls out his own notebook and jots down a few notes. "Good to hear he's alive and well, Skitch you said?" If he has to write an epic tale about this later he would like to get the names right. Looking to Quentin he shakes his head. "Don't let him fool you, he's a huge softie." He smirks at the tall man in the corner before he dives into his tea. "So, what's our next move then?"
Well, Dean was invited here and he still isn't exactly sure how he feels about the whole situation or anybody involved. He gives Taliesin a cautious, calculated look and takes a second to gauge him. He does return Otis's gesture, smiling too with that nod of acknowledgement. He can play nice. "Uh, yeah, what're you writin' there?" Dean leans closer to Taliesin, trying to get a good look at that notebook.
Otis looks mildly offended at being called both 'grumpy' and 'softie' within minutes of each other. He snorts, his mouth flattening a bit as he draws himself up. His eyes are less on the table and its occupants than on the room at large. He practically radiates 'security'. All he's missing are the dark glasses and an earpiece. But he's definitely listening, pointing at Taliesin after his question, punctuating it with a jab. That.
Noah blinks slowly at Quentin, then drags his gaze toward Ciaran, and finally Taliesin. "Ah...y-yeah, I do. I just have to tell my co-worker," he says, taking Ciaran's cold tea with him as he makes his way back over to the counter. He settles a potted cactus on the counter by the register, wearing a pair of sunglasses, an apron, and a nametag which reads 'Mr. Sunshine' in neat, bold letters, and returns toward the table in the corner to take a seat next to Ciaran.
Before he can really get into the conversation, he interlocks his fingers, the tips of his index and middle digits tapping quickly to one another as he murmurs under his breath. Something happens, though exactly what isn't quite discernable. Noah folds his hands in his lap, then, his notebook and pencil resting on the table before him as he prepares to take his own notes, his silver-eyed gaze flicking around to those assembled. "Should make it...easier to speak freely," he mentions quietly.
Ciaran gives Noah a peculiar look at what he does, but just shrugs. Glancing around the table, he goes on "Regardless of what we find out in Rowanwood's library, I know what I sense in the forest and that's a lingering taint. It's weaker than it was at first, but by no means is it gone." Sighing, he balls his fist up on the table. "Okay, let's say my fist is the park. Ground zero, first encounter we had. Mutated plants. Otis helped take them down." Moving his finger to the side of it, he taps a spot on the table. "Farther in, we found the first of the mini-abominations. It wasn't the full thing, but it was definitely cut from the same cloth. Disgusting." His face wrinkles in distaste as he says that. "Ask Noah. He'll agree." Moving to side a little more, he taps another spot which forms a triangle with the first two. "Different direction, more or less the same area, encounter with the venomous brownies." He gives Dean a nod. "Dean was there for that one."
Folding his hands together, Ciaran lets out a sigh. "As you can see, we're dealing with something that's doable but challenging. And I'd rather not run into anymore situations where anyone gets hurt." Tilting his head, he explains "Finding out more about these things is the first step, but once that's done, we're going to need to work together to get rid of it or them if there's multiple." Looking at each of the assembled in turn, he explains "No one of those encounters would have been doable without the people I had at each one. None of them would have been possible alone. This is very much a team effort. I know most of you don't know each other, but my plan was to fix that tonight. At least somewhat."
That was an odd answer. Sort of a non-answer. Quentin frowns very softly, but he doesn't push the matter. Noah can come read in the library if he chooses to, and he can visit the Hotel if he chooses, as well. When the barista finally rejoins them, then Quentin speaks after Ciaran's recap of events. "From what I understand and what I've heard, as well as read, these things can be damaged enough to bounce them back to where they come from. For centuries at a time."
Taliesin gives his best innocent smile to Otis before he notices Dean getting close to his notebook. "Oh this? Well if I am going to have a proper representation of the story then I must have all the facts down?" He quickly adds in the new information he's receiving from Ciaran before he passes it over to Dean. "Feel free to read it if you'd like." It's in Welsh, and there are doodles in the margin.
Dean takes the notebook and looks at the words, and the doodles, then back to Taliesin. Then he flips a few pages and looks at some of the other ones. After that, he just passes the thing back. "So...you're some kinda secretary?" Then the moment of occasional quiet comes, when Dean finally figures he has a good opportunity to say his part. "Yeah, just be sure to bring gloves if you gotta herd anything. Don't want another poison triage witchcraft. I ain't sure who that was most awkward for, but it was probably Skitch."
Otis grimaces at the memory of the mutated plants, his lip curling in a snarl that carries no sound. Otherwise, he seems intent on following what others are saying, his gaze flicking to each as they speak, absorbing each bit of information and tucking it away for future edification. Getting to know each other, he can do. There's really only one person left at the table with which to rectify that, so he lifts his chin at Dean in greeting, since Ciaran's already identified him. 'Sup.
Noah looks over to Dean and to Quentin, lifting a hand. "Oh, right, I'm Noah. I've been trying to help out with...all of this," he says, a general motion of his hand made to Ciaran's hands on the table, his demonstration. Looking to Quentin, Noah gives a half-smile and nods. "Ah, yeah, I'd like to see Rowanwood sometime, especially the library." For now, he takes notes, and listens, truly absorbing the gravity of what they are facing.
Ciaran nods to Quentin. "Correct. That's what happened to the first mini-it. We were trying to bury it and it just kind of... dissolved back to wherever it came from. Good riddance," he adds with a mutter. Facing the others, he nods to Dean. "I don't know that we'll need to be herding anything else, but at this point I'm not ruling anything out. These things are corrupting the plants and denizens of the forest. They must be stopped," he says as he brings his fist down into his open palm.
Ciaran continues, "Quentin, I'd very much like it if Noah could research these things with whatever resources you have. I have to get ahold of the other witch who has been helping us out and see if he has made any headway on finding them." Pursing his lips, he adds "Right now one of my goals is to determine the location of this thing - or things." Glancing at Dean, he adds "Those brownies caught us off guard last time and I don't want that to happen again. Getting the upper hand is going to depend on knowing where this is. Any ideas?"
"Quentin Troy," the witch answers, smiling pulsed wider to Noah, hopefully more welcoming and encouraging to the young man. "You should stop by some afternoon, while the light's still good." He returns to Ciaran when he hears his name starting a statement. This is important, and his expression reflects that. Serious business witch now. "If they respond strongly to demon energy, maybe we should try some demon magic. Or simply look over the place and see if there's a conspicuous dearth of it anywhere."
Otis grunts. "Triangulate." It's probably the biggest word anyone in this room has ever heard him say, and he says it with such beary style. He leans forward to position three cups in a rough circle to demonstrate his meaning, jabbing his finger in the middle and lifting his eyebrows.
Dean points to Otis when he says a word, because it's the word he didn't have to say and it seems like a pretty wise way to proceed. Dean and Sam are both no slackers when it comes to strategy, but this would seem not to need much input from him today. These guys are smart.
Taliesin smirks at Dean and shakes his head. "No I'm far to pretty to be just a secretary." He laughs before he takes his notebook back. "I'm a bard, I write stories and songs and all that fancy business." Turning back to the other he leans forward when Otis says the longest word in his history. He doesn't call him out but he nods. "That's a great idea, likely a good place to start at the very least. How big of a team are you putting together? If these things are as nasty as you say they are then it's likely going to need everything to kill it. Or send it back, whatever the plan will be."
Ciaran frowns faintly, looking at Noah. "Demons are outside of the scope of my knowledge, to be honest. But Tenebris, that's the other witch, has some affiliation with demons and might have a better idea of that part of it. He mentioned it to Noah and myself. I'm confident he can figure out a way to get rid of the thing for good, if we could find it for him." Ciaran's gaze shifts to Otis. "I thought of that, but I think we'd need at least one more point. The plants in the park weren't anywhere near the corruption I sensed that night, pretty sure they were spawned by the Tentacle Creature. Based on where we found it, they had already made some good distance by the time they got to the park. Which leaves us one tip shy of a triangle."
Tapping the table again with two fingers, he says "Tentacles and brownies. We've yet to find whatever corrupted the brownies, and my gut tells me when we do... well, that's our third point." Resting his hands on the table, he grins mischievously and says to Taliesin's question "I guess we'll just have to go on another little excursion, whoever I can get to volunteer. See if we can trace what pumped those brownies full of venom and made them frenzied to boot." Leaning back slightly, he adds "Tenebris will most likely be needed when we finally go up against the real thing. He's more of an expert with them than I am. But for this smaller one... I think I can manage. Hopefully," he adds.
Noah nods to Quentin slowly. "It's nice to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances, but...I would be happy to research with you," he says as he takes a few more notes. "I...don't particularly enjoy the idea of involving demons, but in truth, I know little about them. Even if they are bad, I suppose it might be...the lesser of two evils?" Noah sighs softly, leaning up to check on Mr. Sunshine at the counter. Apparently satisfied that his 'co-worker' is doing okay, the witchfellow settles back into his seat and blinks over at Taliesin a few times. Blink. Blink-blink. Blink.
"Secretaries are supposed to be pretty, ain't they?" It's how this has gone on basically every adult film Dean has ever seen, and most films that aren't even rated a single X! "So from what I'm gettin' off this, we gotta do enough damage to get it to fuck off, but we don't wanna hurt the forest and the living things in it. We triangulate, like musclebear here says, we minimize any splashback. Just zero in on where it is and wipe it off the map."
"Demons aren't that scary," Quentin chimes in. "And they aren't necessarily evil, either. They're about as frightening as our fae friends. But I'd imagine that this thing was corrupting the brownies, from what I heard about the situation. It's like a tainted water source that everything is getting water from...it's bad and just keeps slowly spreading, as long as it's not addressed." The witch looks amused at that interplay between Otis and the rest of them, especially Taliesin. Those two must have a special bond. "Some witches work with demons in magic and in a sort of power arrangement. I have some spells that might be able to help us, I'd just have to figure it out. It's not my bailiwick, personally, but I could do it."
Otis nods at Ciaran's assessment of his plan, and he give Dean a tipped smile for his backup. But he's a craftsman, and he knows a special magic called geometry. Fishing a pen from his pocket, he draws two straight lines on the table from the remaining two cups until they intersect, and he circles that point. Then he points between the three points, pocketing the pen, and pointing at Dean and his plan.
Ciaran nods to Dean's assessment. "Pretty much. Once it's gone for good, I'll salvage what I can with my magic. If it's been sitting in the same spot all this time, I can almost guarantee the immediate area's going to be a lost cause. But I'll do what I can." Rubbing his hands together, he says "You're right, Quentin, it's definitely like that. Demonic magic may be our best bet at this point. My magic can heal the damage done, but it's not really effective against the things themselves."
Resting a hand casually over Noah's, Ciaran looks at the witch and smiles softly. "We don't necessarily need demons to use demonic magic. I'm sure the witches can find a workaround. I'm not exactly eager to meet any, myself, even if I know some are decent folks. And there's always Tenebris." Looking down at Otis' drawing, he arches a brow. "I guess that's as good a place to start as any." Nodding to Taliesin, he says "Copy that onto your pad, would you? I'd like to check it against a map."
"Right, that....that makes sense," Noah says at everyone's reassurances. When Ciaran rests his hand upon Noah's, the witch's silver-eyed gaze rests on the fae and his lips turn up into a familiar smile to his fae companion. "I'm sure we'll find a way if we research hard enough. I'm really looking forward to meeting all of those books!" Noah smiles more cheerfully, then, looking to Otis with a small wave.
Taliesin laughs and shakes his head at Dean. "You're not wrong mate, though my legs look terrible in a pencil skirt." He turns to Quentin and gives him a very wicked smile. "Please, we're absolutely harmless. Just pretty faces and centuries of being assholes." Leaning forward he watches as the plan is drawn out and smirks at Otis. Geometry is definitely a form of witchcraft he never bothered to learn. At Ciaran's notice he nods his head and makes a quick but detailed sketch of the drawing. "I'm sure we can sort this out."
Dean puffs air dismissively through his lips, making a point of leaning out and looking under the table. "I bet you rock it. You're gonna have to just start going for tailored kilts." But then it's all back to tactics, and he reaches a hand toward that sketch, moving his fingers in a circle. "Yeah, maybe if you draw a picture, people'll understand the triangulation thing. We should probably have like a whiteboard or somethin'."
Otis nods as his plan seems to be agreed upon, and settles back, folding his arms across his chest again. He narrows his eyes a little at Dean and his examination of Taliesin's legs, but he doesn't otherwise react beyond a small swelling of that massive chest and a small flick of fingers towards Dean for his whiteboard suggestion. Because it makes sense, and Otis is a practical man.
Ciaran arches a brow at Dean. "That might look a little conspicuous here, although if we meet together again, I'd suggest the Hotel so we can do just that." Folding his hands once more, he gives a decisive nod. "Well, that's our game plan then. Noah, you get together with Quentin and see about visiting Rowanwood's library. Whatever you can gather from there, you and I had a discussion with Tenebris so you have an idea of what to look for." Shifting to the side, he adds "We at the Court will work on figuring out where the target is. Dean, can we count on you and your brother's help when it comes time to get these things gone for good?"
"Absolutely," Quentin answers Taliesin, breaking into laughter. It's knowing laughter, too, given that he's been a liaison between the Kindly Ones and everyone else for a while now, mainly in Beacon Hills. He looks pleased, perhaps most of all, that Otis seems to have found a kindred spirit in Dean and also seems to have lowered his hackles. That'll be a mystery to unravel another time, but he's glad to have avoided any hurt feelings or much awkwardness.
"Pretty sure nobody's gonna care what some randos have on a whiteboard. They'll probably think we're rehearsing for TV or something." Dean wolfs down another bite of his muffin, and he actually waits until he's swallowed most of it before picking up with talking. "You mind if I send Skitch to the library too? I think he'd like to do something like that. Do his part, y'know? Sammy's done some reading, but maybe me and Sam should -- yeah, that. Call on me, buddy."
For being a meeting about dire things, Taliesin sure is laughing a whole lot! "Oh I don't think any of you could handle me in a kilt. You'd likely all swoon and we wouldn't get a thing done." He leans back with his tea cup and smirks at Otis. "Well except you, you could handle it." He finishes his sketch and holds it up for everyone to see. Turning to Quentin he raises a brow. "Just how big is this library and how large is your myth and lore section?"
"I'm quite curious about this library, too," Noah adds, looking over to Dean and the others. "Actually, nobody can really...I mean, it's not that people can't see us here, it's more...we're not interesting enough to pique their interest. We could have a whiteboard, and they wouldn't pay attention to it being there. As long as we stay in this corner, at least, because that's the area of the cafe I enchanted." Noah looks then to Quentin, nodding again quickly. "Yes, when would be a good time for me to see these books?"
"I could handle you in a kilt." When Quentin speaks, there's no even slight amount of doubt to it. He's not attempting to come on to Taliesin, but he's certainly not letting that pass him by. He doesn't expand further on it, though that may be due to the question directly addressed to him before he has a chance. "I think it's most of the library," he answers. "And it's a huge library. Books you'll never see anywhere else. Some you'd have to go as far as Rome, or East Asia, others that you simply can't find anywhere. You can come anytime." The witch turns slightly, to face Noah. "I recommend afternoons. That's when you'll hit the pie cooling window, along with the good light. But we do have modern conveniences, it's just...the ambiance is better."
Ciaran looks over to Quentin and smiles. "Sounds like quite a few people are going to be visiting your library." Tilting his chair back, he crosses his arms. "Well, I think I've just about said my piece. The plan's in place, just the execution now. I'll keep in touch with everyone and see when I head into the forest again. I'd really like to get ahold of Tenebris, but he seems to come and go of his own accord a bit," he explains with a grin. "Anyone else have anything to add?" He glances at each man in turn.
Otis smirks at Taliesin, and winks. He -definitely- could handle the bard in a kilt. And his face might reflect that's an image he dwells on for several happy seconds. Then he grins at Taliesin widely, and shifts his attention to the group, shaking his head at Ciaran's question. He's added enough to this conversation. He might be exhausted from the effort.
The story continues in: 2020.05.05 - Deus Ex Libris