| Details for Answers Found |
| Summary: | Some, anyway. Sloan comes to visit the apothecary and Niamh calls him upstairs to the loft to talk with him. |
| Date: | 16 November 1937 |
| Location: | MacDiarmarda Apothecary Loft |
| Related: | Now I have to dig them out? |
| Characters |
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MacDiarmarda Apothecary Loft (#2058R) Diagon Alley
Fri Nov 16, 1937 ((Thu Nov 01 15:14:23 2012)) (B,2 SE - U)
It is a fall morning. The weather is cool and clear.
An empty apartment. Several packing boxes are stacked here and there. The neighborhood is a rather comfortable working class area and the residence reflects that to every nook and corner. Bare floors and walls are freshly scrubbed and painted. The stringent scent of cleaning products and fresh paint is strong and ever lingering. This apartment is comprised of several rooms. Every apartment is slightly different in its lay out. But there are always of course the necessary rooms and at least one indoor bathroom. A small hall that acts as a foyer just inside the front door is lined with racks and storage space for outside wear and poor weather accessories. Every apartment comes with a living room area that's most usually adjoined to a dining nook which is attached to a kitchen. Within the kitchen there are several appliances such as gas stove, sink, and refrigerator. More often than not the floors are all hardwood, waxed and polished in all shades from pale pine to dark oak.
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The fireplace is lit and it gives a cheery, warm glow over the sitting room. Beyond, the kitchen can easily be seen, and within, a stove and oven that seems to have food perpetually cooking on it and bread in it. Fresh soda bread, fresh stew that always has a warm hardiness to it that'll keep a man going for the day at the very least. And a small table set, two chairs.
The sitting room, then, has a couch and a couple of chairs near the fireplace, and a coffee table with more than a few things on it. Mostly gardening books and magazines, though the one, two fashion magazines have found their way there. And dirty dishes that Niamh simply hasn't yet washed.
And, the other rooms.. WC and single master bedroom. All through the flat, there's the overwhelming sense of 'herbalist', though there are a couple 'discordant notes', as it were, that declares the presence of a man. A pair of men's shoes, shaving mug in the WC.. fedora on the hat rack…
It's evening now, and Niamh's done for the day. A mug of tea is in hand, and she's tucked up on her couch, her favourite position, with a hand holding her legs in place as she holds the mug in the other. She's staring at the fire for the moment, a million thoughts flickering behind those eyes..
Having been in the area, Sloan makes his way to the apothecary. Having need of an expert on a cae anyways, he makes his way inside. Strangely, doors have little effect on Sloan, locked or not. It's amazing the uses a slim blade and Cheese wire have. Stepping into the building, the Black Irish Auror looks around and simply calls out "OI!"
Really? Really?
Standing up, Niamh decides to take the tea with her, and she goes to the top of the stairs and calls down, "Up here.. an' at least put a charm on the door.. an' no funny. Make sure Adamantus can still get in." She can't keep the amusement out of her tones, however.. it is.. who it is. "I've got your new bottle."
Nodding up the stairs to Niamh. Sloan relocks the door. Considerinf for a moment, he removes his flask from his pocket, pours a line of Glenfiddich across the floor in front of the door and mutter "Tsunamis Majorus." as he flicks his wand. It was an old Spell, one sloan had learned at hogwarts. It wasn't dangerous, more a prank than anything, but the next person that opened that door wasn't going to need to do laundry or bathe for the night. That done, The auror heads up the stairs. "'Ow ye been Niamh?"
Niamh doesn't quite catch the incant, though she's got half a mind to speak up anyway, knowing him. She opens her mouth.. but closes it again. No harm.. she's.. pretty sure, anyway. "Get up 'ere.. ye big lug.." and she laughs as she'll close the door behind him. "I've been.. well, actually. An' it seems that.. ye are lookin' a little.. more.." She bounces a little as she looks for the word, "..collected. Ladies'll do that." As for her, she actually looks happy.. gleaming eyes, happy smile, and walking across the room to get to the chair again, she sinks down and pulls her feet back up. "Busy.. an' I don't see an end in sight, actually."
Dropping unceremoniously into a chair of his own, Sloan raises an eyebrow. "Why so busy 'ceann beag'? and Aye. I suppose you could say I'm more collected. more focused at least, aye?" If Sloan ever had a nickname, it was ceann beag, 'Little one' in the native tongue.
Niamh exhales and smiles, her eyes warm and merry. "Aye, I think so, an' it suits you I think." I think, meaning Hell, yes. "I don't know what's been transpirin', but in the course of a couple'a months, I've come across a nasty poison," and she inclines her head in his direction, "A man who calls himself 'Caesar' wantin' Polyjuice," the stuff that makes the user the identical twin of another, "'an a werewolf. Tha's not to mention the walking dead in the shop." She exhales softly, "An' I still have t'speak with Keen about the werewolf. Tha' was the other night, in the Cauldron."
Nodding slightly, Sloan grunts. "Walking dead in here Jesus Murphy 'tween the pairin o' ye there's no much ye won't try tae fix, aye? though the Polyjuice potion is a bit of a concern."
"Aye.. more'n a concern, Sloan," and she does pronounce his name correctly. "It was a man.. Magnus Troy. I'm seein' him 'round a bit, an' he came in with lots'a blonde hair." Niamh leans over to playfully give her friend a whack. "An' there's nae Frankenstein Monsters here. We try an' help while they're still alive.. ye beast. Tha' dead thing came as quite a shock t'Gideon an' myself.. an' we're still nae sure if he was 'after' me, Gideon or Keen."
Considering that for a moment, Sloan grunts. "Describe the dead man. I already know Magnus. though now I believe I'll get Inacio tae keep an eye on him."
Niamh begins to recount the story.. from the sound of the glasses in the Apothecary shop, to Gideon moving downstairs and she next.. the lumos.. that seemed to blind and almost enrage the soul. "At first, I swear, I thought it was one o'ye.. how ye all get hurt an' fumble about? An the soul looke very hurt. Until Gid bound him.. an' it just.. fell. Somethin' out of his left ear." And after the recounting, she pulls her legs up, getting a chill, before she describes him, it, a hand coming over her eyes in order to see the body clearer in her mind's eye. "An' it had that poison in it's pocket. An' American an' Imperial cash.." She shakes her head, "I got Keen, an' he was able to stop the spread o'the poison, thankfully, because it had gotten onto Gideon's hand."
Fowning deeply at the descripstion, Sloan Leans closer, rolling a cigarette in his left hand. "What was he wearing?"
Niamh looks at Sloan, stares at him for a long moment before, "Jeans, a black shirt an' a pair o'boots. Nae work boots like I've seen favoured by workmen, but.. softer." She shudders, "He was only shortly dead when he came in.. but he was animated, Sloan.. I wanted t'clean him up, thinking he was still alive, but hurt badly."
Frowning deeper, Sloan grunts and shakes his head. "Yer fine ceann beag. 'e Wasnae after any of ye." Clearing reaching into his pocket for his flask, Sloan takes a long pull from it before offerin it to Niamh.
Niamh puts her tea on the table and reaches for the flask, and doesn't bother sniffing at the top anymore. After a time, it simply doesn't matter anymore what's inside, and she takes a swallow. Doesn't mean she doesn't cough at it, however.. but not so much as she would at the more 'unfamiliar' of drinks. It warms her, though, and she's grateful for that, reaching a spot that tea simply can't reach. Handing it back, she clears her throat, "An' then, who was it after? Was it a fluke tha' it just came in?" She shakes her head, and looks immediately concerned. "Nae ye, Lindy?"
Considering for a moment, Sloan grunts. "Lad's name was Mordecai Robbins, formerly of New York. Knife cove and assassin for hire, aye? He wasn'ae after ye after because Mordecai never killed a man 'e wasnae paid for, and 'e NEVER went after a woman. You're positive he was dead when he walked in? absolutely positive?"
Niamh's eyes widen at the thought that maybe the soul was there for help after all.. and.. and..
She rises from her seat to head over towards the liquour cabinet and takes out some Irish whiskey, and pours it into a glass. Two glasses. "Y'mean he was comin' for help, Sloan? An'.." She crosses the room towards where they're sitting and hands the glass over, but her hand is shaking. "He had a .. metal .. spike? out his ear an' his eye. How can a man live wi' that? But.." and she sits down heavily, "When the lights came on, it didn't seem like it was an attack.. again.. an' Gideon cast a petrificus on him.. t'keep him from.." Hurting them? "It was the light, then, tha' he was coming to. I don't know if he was, but.. he could've been?" Guilt.
shrugging slightly, Sloan takes his glass, Holding it for a moment then handing it back when Niamh is done with her own. she looked like she needed it more than he did, and Sloan was in effect holding a 50 gallon barrel of Glenfiddich in his other hand. "I dinnae Niamh. I was asking if you were sure he died. and it beats me how a lad can survive with s spike in his ear." To himself Sloan thinks. ~tough son of a bitch survived me stickin' his own spike in his head and stuffing him into a storm drain. with his own poison in his brain at that. feck me~
Oh, yes.. it's one.. then, with a somewhat nervous, relieved smile, Niamh does empty the second. She can feel the heat of the drink; that much is obvious in the way she breathes after, but.. it's hers, and it's the good stuff. Not something she's unfamiliar with. Just.. not in such amounts is all. "I'm nae sure o'that.. but when I started t'treat the wounds, he felt that he might be newly dead.. or.. still alive." Damn, the glass is empty, "An' aye, he's dead now.. very. Gid pulled the metal piece out of the soul's head an' he's.. quite dead." I rinsed him off t'clean him up.. an' he was a mess. Who ever had done it to the soul did a job. Gangrenous, face split.. it was a horrible sight."
Nodding slightly, Sloan grunts. "Aye. from the sounds of it, he ran into something absolutely Evil. Doesn't sound like something a decent man would do to another soul." Clearing his throat and taking another pull from his flask, he leans back in the chair. "So how's the Gaul treating ye then?"
Niamh nods and looks at the two empties, and sighs before she laughs at the sight. "I cannae believe I drank 'em both. An' ye let me!" She laughs, her eyes bright, "Ye foul, evil beast." Still, she takes her comfort from her friend's confidence that there's no conspiracy, there's no target, and can now sleep a little better. "As for Adamantus," and she straightens a little and sets the two snifters onto the coffee table, "He's teachin' me some self-defense. Says that if I'm to accept the risk of dating a Hit Wizard, then I need t'be able to handle myself in case." She sits back and pulls her legs up again, "Defensive, mostly.. knockback an' shields I'm workin' on now. Ne'er really needed 'em."
Raising an eyebrow, Sloan stands quietly. "LEt's see what th' 'it wizard be teachin ye then Ceann Beag. If you're going tae be dating a hit wizard, I want tae know he ain't teachin ye that honorable Duellin' shite they be teachin' th' wee uns tae school."
"Oh, really? Now?" Niamh looks up at Sloan as he rises, and she finds her way onto her feet again. "He didn't want me t'pull punches with the knockback.. an' I couldn't keep it from being a bit.. harder than I thought it should be." She winces, and offers, "It looked like it would hurt." She finds her wand, however, and blinks at her friend. "We've gone over fumos," the smoke screen, "flipendo.." the knockback, "an' protego.." the shield. "An' I made sure I got protego because I was damned tired o'bein' tickled." She giggles after that, but clears her throat soon after and stands straight. "What first?" As if the baddies will announce what they'll do to her in a monologue?
Raising an eyebrow, Sloan moves towards the couch, moving absently, he grunts. "Pick one and go with it Niamh."
You paged Edwarlinda with 'Awesome!'
Niamh cants her head, and narrows her eyes; she's only got a few in her arsenal, but she looks at Sloan and nods. "Alright.. an' remember, I've only had the day of it." She clears her throat and walks about, before she raises her wand, setting out, "Flipendo!" in Sloan's direction. The moment she begins, and the balls of light travel towards Sloan, she's ready with her own shielding spell, ready to go, her arm ready to arc to ward off any counter attacks that may come.
For sloan's part, as Soon as Niamh's wand began to move, the Irishman grabbed one of the pillows from the couch and hurled it at her head, dropping to a nearly prone position at the same time
Aaand.. dammit! A pillow? Really?! Niamh tries not to spaz out completely, but the pillow coming at her takes her by complete surprise, and she puts a hand out to bat it away, completely blowing off any chance of the shield spell. Her eyes gleam now, and she takes a step forward, and pulls up her wand, "Fumos!" and immediately, the room begins to fill with smoke from the end of her wand.. effectively blinding well… at least one of them? So not fair! And she moves from where she was, in stockinged feet..
Staying low, Sloan crawls along the floor, calling out in the smoke. Problem with using Fumos is there are ways to get around it…for instance. smoke rises, and if you stay low…" faling silent, he snakes forward and lightly places his hand on Niamh's calf before continuing. "The smoke is thinner."
Niamh looks for 'her target' in the smoke, and she's sure she's got a bead on him, but she's also listening to his words. It's when he falls silent again is when she starts looking around again, but of course, she'll not see a damned thing where she is.. and when he touches her calf, she actually softly screams in surprise before laughing. "Jesus, Mary an' Joseph, Sloan.. ye gave me a heart attack.." and picking up the pillow, she's ready to clobber him with it. Pummel him! "Aye," she's got the lesson, however, and she's glad in the learning of it. "I saw what ye did.. an' how.." and even with the two drinks and the bright eyes, she's followed everything he's said, and done. "Aye.. I'll remember it. What I thought t'do was get ye off yer feet, make the smoke, an' move 'til ye didn't know where I was. Then, I could do again, or go away… but ye did different. Ye went down.." Now, she'll know to consider that option. Rule one, then? "Don't strike first an' don't think ye'll know what they'll do.. 'cause'n ye don't."
Standing and flicking his wand, Sloan grunts as the smoke begins to clear. "Ne'er do what they're expecting ceann beag. People say I'm crazy. they say I attack when I should run. I counter when I should guard, They call me a brute because I use my fists where otherss would use a wand. I. Fight. you really want tae protect yerself. Ye learn tae fight wit' yer head before ye uses yer hands. and ye use tae use yer hands in a world when all others uses wands. you break their wand, you take their power. you break my hands, I've still got feet, and haid, and teeth and me arms."
This is a slightly different Niamh that stands before Sloan as the smoke dissipates. She wants to learn, and it can be seen in those eyes. "Will ye teach me too, Sloan? I'll ne'er be as good as ye, or Adamantus, an' I know it. But I want t'be able to do aught.. if only t'get away." She takes a deep breath and lowers her wand. "Tha' whole thing scared me- your poisonin', the .. soul in the shop, an' such. I am not gonna walk into battle, but I'll want t'crawl away, an' I might be able t'take a wounded with me."
Raising an eyebrow, Sloan shrugs. "Aye. I'll teach ye if ye want. but know this now, aye? I'll teach ye tae defend yerself. But most th' things I teach ye will take a life if done right. Quickly and with a minimum of pain, but it will end a man. if ye does these thing s wrong. Ye'll likely still end a life. in a painful and horrifying manner. if ye're good wi' that I'll show ye what ye need tae know."
Niamh blinks, and takes a deep breath before she exhales and seems to collapse in on herself a little. She's got conflict now, and it's hard. Shaking her head, she sounds as if she's ready to plead, "I can't take a life, Sloan.. I mean.. I don't know if I could. If ye were in danger, an' .. it was truly the only way, aye.. I would. I'd have to. Same with Keen.. Lindy.. an' Adamantus.." But.. to know, and understand that the moves and skills will lead to the death of another? She bites at her bottom lip and shakes her head, "Can I.. can I give ye an answer on that on the 'morrow? Please?"
Nodding after a moment, Sloan grunts. "Think on this Niamh. ye know how me Da died. And ye know I'm a scrapper. Me da taught me the same way. now I'm a lot bigger than ye are. there is that. So some things will likely be not as lethal from ye. but I never kill a man in a scrap if I dinnae need to. and I make sure of that because I was taught th' killin strikes when I was a gaffer. I know what not to do because I'm very good at doing exactly those things. It's how me family has ben taught since we were runnin' around wit our John Thomases Swingin, fightin Poofters in steel cans. Aye?"
Niamh nods slowly, her hands moving forward to clasp one side and the other of her wand. "S'why ye are so special, Sloan. M'Croppy. An' I wanted t'show ye, in particular, that there's things important now.. an' more important that I know we'll be fightin' for. Keen's ready for Revolution.. an' with him goes I. Ye are the man t'help, an' I don't want t'be the screaming.. Pauline." She approaches slowly, and rises onto her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "I would like ye t'teach me. A good Irishman, an' a strong one, an' a loyal one."
Nodding quietly, Sloan grunts. "Keenan and I make our plans, aye. if the soldiers march and the blood runs again t'won't be the O'Shea family tha' bleeds. Aye? I'll teach ye, and I'll protect yer family." Giving her a one armed hug, he adds. "I'll even see what I can do about keepin' that Feckin' Gaul o' yers from gettin bloodied."
Niamh grins as she's hugged by the brute, and laughs. "Aye, it won't be.. an' we'll be there t'keep it.. or I'll burn this place down an' they'll ne'er have it, Sloan. I swear it. I was ready t'do it last time, but I'll see this shop in flames before they get at the goods an' potions." And in that, she's deathly earnest; even with the earlier laugh. As for the promise to protect Gideon? Well.. she offers a warm smile, "He's a good man, Sloan. He thinks the Montague's killed his wife an' child in a fire. S'got the proof, or enough of it t'move on, even if the MLE won't. An' it's always there. Sweeney.. a man tha' Montague's da gave to Wolfgang. He knows aught of it, but now Adamantus can't question him all cause of his partner not bein' a real partner.. doesn't have his back. Once she's laid t'rest, I know he'd be an easier man."
Raising an eyebrow, Sloan rolls a cigarette slowly in his left hand, having dug the makings out of a pocket, finally he Nods. "Tell 'im, he really wants tae get tae th' bottom of it, he'll come talk tae me. aye? and on tha' note. I've got tae get goin'" slipping a small baggie from his pocket, he hands it to Niamh. "Also needed tae know what this is….s'why I came in the first place." inside the bag is a wad of greenery. apparently it's been chewed up.
The smile broadens again, and Niamh nods quickly, and the look of relief is more than evident there. "Aye.. I will tell him.." but now, there's the 'real reason', and she holds out her hand, and takes the green. "Okay.." and she looks around to check it in the light. "I'll take a look at it," and with that, she looks around to find her slippers to go back downstairs. "I'll follow ye down an' let ye out.. an' have an answer for ye at light. An' if I don't know at first, then I'll tell ye that too."
Chuckling as he heads for the stairs, Sloan heads down and moves for the window instead of the door. "No rush. the man's not going to get any dead-er. aye?"