Logs: Let's Grab a Piano
NPCs: None
Summary: After meeting with Scarpia and Rebekah about a certain tiny pink piano, Coda discusses the situation with Rune.
Log
"Huh, they gave us an extra sandwich."
But aren't just little lucky things like that *always* happening to a pair of luck mages? In this case it might be the fading effects of a generalized luck spell that Coda threw on himself last week.
Either way, it's a nice night Coda is hungry enough to just settle on their front porch steps to just dive in. Sometimes he prefers it to the back yard, even as nice as that space is, because he kind of likes to people watch, and feel part of the neighborhood, and wave to their neighbors as they pass.
And he hadn't wanted anything fancy, just some sandwiches from a local place that makes really good sandwiches, along with some iced tea.
He shoots Rune a rueful look. "So I apologize. That got really weird, really fast just now."
---
Rune stretches out on the steps, legs fully extended in front of him as he leans back on his elbows, offering an exhausted little post-work sigh of relaxation and relief after a crazy night of being on his feet. Feelings that he could easily bypass with little more than a scratched symbol on his wrist with one of the bics in his apron.
But he almost never does that. For a man with enough magic to almost never feel discomfort -- he doesn't seem to mind.
Reaching up to pull the tie out of his hair, he shakes out those curls -- untameable, like a lion's mane, no matter how much effort is put into it -- looking over into the bag. "Burger, or chicken?"
---
"Chicken, please," Coda says. A quick, fond smile touches his face as Rune shakes out his hair, there and gone again.
He leans his back against the stair railing, looking just as comfortable as he does in an office chair or anywhere else. "Did you have a good day at work?"
There's another quick touch of chagrin--distracted first by the weirdness and then, frankly, by his hunger, Coda had forgotten to ask before.
---
Reaching for the bag, Rune rolls his eyes. "I meant the extra,' he teases, looking to see what all is available -- though he does hand Coda the requested chicken, fishing out a burger for himself as he carefully unfolds the little foil wrapper.
(The extra is, of course, Chicken, the Euthanatos' resonance winning that particular battle of universal chaos.)
Taking a healthy bite out of the burger, he reaches into his apron, pulling out a stack of bills that he quickly counts before handing them off to Coda. "Fwee Hunneh Fi'iy Thoo," he tells the man around a mouthful of burger, eyes bright. Which, in non-Barbarian is Three Hundred Fifty Two dollars, paid toward his share of the household expenses.
---
Now it's Coda's turn to roll his eyes, though good-naturedly. "Thank you. Though, I wasn't asking for you to cough up the funds, I was asking how your day went," he says gently.
But he takes the money, those bright eyes telling him that there's some pride behind being able to bring that much in. "Though I guess the answer is the same in this case: if you made this much in tips it must have been a *great* day."
He puts the money into his wallet, and juggles out his smart phone for a moment. He hits a button, a pre-written app, and then reaches into his pocket to produce a receipt book and a pen. He insists on writing a receipt up, every single time, and he does this time, putting his sandwich aside to do just that in a precise, neat hand. He slides it across to Rune.
"Don't forget to file that," he murmurs. Almost apologetically, for the reminder...but he reminds all the same, the same way he always reminds.
He puts the receipt book and the pen back in his pocket and closes out the app.
---
Rune tucks the little slip of paper safely into his pocket, smoothing out the apron so as to not crease it. A search of his room would reveal that he does, in fact, file them. In a manner of speaking. There is a pencil case in his closet that contains all of the rent receipts, neatly put away -- with a short description of how the day went written on the back. Memorable events, or fleeting impressions. A diary, of sorts.
Perhaps a strange place to keep one, but Rune has his rhymes and reasons.
"Was alright," he answers. "I mean, entitled assholes are entitled. And assholes. But they at least tip well, usually." He gives a little shrug. "I mean, they tip me well, anyway. Usually." Not always.
The man has one of those faces that just implores you to trust him. Always with the little reminder of someone you know. The first time you meet him, anyway. It fades in time, but his charisma is enough to make up for that.
If it weren't for the fact that his life outside of work is messy and fraught and makes attendance an *issue* sometimes, he could probably have been promoted to floor lead by now. But such isn't in his cards.
---
Coda listens as he works on that sandwich--he really was hungry as all get-out, and it's rapidly disappearing. Still-faint laugh lines crinkle a little at they tip me well anyway. "As well you're dealing with the entitlement that has money. Otherwise you'd just be dealing with poor assholes who can't tip well."
He tilts his head up thoughtfully and says, "Speaking of rich assholes. I'm thinking about just...snagging this silly piano for those people, if it hasn't been smashed up. I think it's just small enough that I can. At first, I thought...just investigate the old fashioned way, it's not worth the trouble of the set-up."
Was it worth the trouble of the investigation? Even he's not sure.
"But now I'm starting to think...it might just keep those people out of trouble. Calm them down, steer them out of whatever bad ideas they've got brewing. I walked out of there with an uneasy feeling though. I didn't really try to get a deep reading on them."
Coda rarely just uses his Arts to start reading people, or to start trying to get a reaction out of them, unless they've earned his enmity, much like Rune doesn't magick his discomfort away. It strikes him as unethical...and also as a whole lot of sensory input to put up with, without much gain, most of the time.
"What do you think?"
---
Rune is still working on the burger, enjoying their time out front, people-watching, as he enjoys everything else. Rune, for all his eccentricities, tends to be something of a simple creature at heart. But the smile fades a bit as he starts considering the investigation once more.
"Dunno," he sighs. "You wanna keep 'em out of trouble, but. I have a feeling that those people are the trouble. Piano theft or no."
Glancing over to his friend, he asks, "How did you even find that crew, anyway? And what was the deal with all of -- that?" That, naturally, being the jars. The specimens, and the overkill on the macabre. "I mean, they don't strike me as the next Cerridwen, but ..." He pauses there a second, mouth pressing tight as the words escape too late.
He's not a good one to judge the next Cerridwen. He wasn't even a particularly good spotter of the actual Cerridwen.
"Just ..." A deep sigh, the cat already out of the bag. "Are you sure?"
---
"They put fliers all over the neighborhood, and I thought there was a story there. I mean. They're worried about this tiny piano. It's worth, literally, $61.00. They could replace it in a heartbeat but they say it has sentimental value...and more than that they say that it's the principle of the thing. That they've been bullied. But somehow the person bullying them is the owner of an exclusive club. One moment they're all members of the club, the other Jack is poor and the owner picks on him and he doesn't have good shoes to wear."
Coda frowns, picking apart the inconsistencies once more giving him a step away from Rebekah's emotional appeal. "This guy Jack, he says he wants to confuse and annoy someone...the club owner I guess...he was very difficult to understand...but also that he wants his property back."
Is he sure? It's evident he's not sure.
"The shop actually didn't bother me. Some people like those little curios. Kind of weird leaning straight into the death theme vs. all the other Victorian items one could sell, but not unheard of. Not to my taste, but." He shrugs. Nothing about the Death motif is ever going to phase him, at least.
---
Rune listens, the look on his face pensive. Closing his eyes, he leans his head back, looking up at the sky without looking -- that little tell that shows that there's a struggle going on in there, somewhere.
It takes him a second, but finally he lets forth a little frustrated growl. "Alright," he sighs. "Options. Option 1," he holds up a finger. "We fuck off and get the hell away from the whole damn Addams Family. Except, if they're innocent, then we're leaving them at the hands of a merciless bully after they've asked for help. And if they *aren't* innocent, then we're letting someone else walk into that lion's den, maybe completely unprepared."
That second finger goes up. "Option *Two*: We help them. We potentially help a group of innocent people fight back and take a stand, which, admittedly, is the morally weighty thing to do. And there could be some profit in it. And if they aren't --" A frown. "Well. We're definitely walking into something fucked up, in that scenario. Who knows what. But ..." A little 'nggggh' sound. "We're -- the best equipped for it that I can think of."
He reaches up, rubbing at his right eye with the heel of his palm. "Lucky us."
---
"Then I'll get it set up tonight, and maybe make some weirdos very happy," Coda says, smiling. While Rune might not have spotted the actual Cerridwen, what Coda chalks that up to is the fact that he had no knowledge or frame of reference to do that. He finds the man's reasoning to be pretty decent most of the time.
At first, five years ago, admittedly, when he'd ask the man for his opinion on such things, it was to find out more about how he thought. To maybe in fact encourage the exercise of thinking things through a little more, as Coda perceived the other man maybe...needed a hand with that.
These days? He values Rune's opinion and knows that if he himself is about to truly walk them over a cliff because of his own flaws, well...Rune will say so, and will hit them with the logic that pulls them back from the edge.
---
Rune can't help but give a little snorting laugh at that, rolling his eyes playfully. "Mister, I am one of the weirdos, and you just fed me, so. I am content. If that was the goal, then we're already there. Call it a day."
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a mostly-battered box of Marlboros, lighting one for himself and setting the pack between them. In case Coda wants one. If he can find one that isn't broken. Though Rune is always willing to share. It'd probably be a bad habit if either of them had to worry about cancer or heart disease ever again.
"So. Next question," he muses. "We find this piano. And -- then what?" A glance to Coda. "we can't just teleport the damn thing to their little house of horrors. And..." Rune turns to look at the street, glancing skeptically at the blue Econo-car there. "Your Leaf only just barely fits the purse you apparently keep your balls in, now...." Spoken with that good-natured teasing that he always offers up when talking about the car.
---
"It's 13 inches by 17 inches by 9 inches according to the flier," Coda says thoughtfully. "It's pushing it, but I think that's just small enough for me to just...grab it and bring it to me."
He accepts a cigarette. He accepts one of the broken ones though he palms it so it only looks bent. He runs his fingers slowly along it as if simply "straightening" it, humming a soft tune under his breath...F in the key of middle C, associated with the #4, associated with matter, on a 1/4 beat to reinforce the matter connection, all to the goal of knitting that paper back together just enough. He's not even transmuting it, he's just rejoining molecules to molecules.
The cigarette still looks a little uneven in the middle, but it's good enough for Government work. Waste not, want not. He lights it happily, inhales deeply, blows out a slow line of smoke with every evidence of pleasure.
"And if that's the case we just...bring it to them. Even my Leaf can handle something roughly the size of a breadbox you know. That said...I'll want you there in case something crazy happens."
A good natured, easy-going smile as he adds:
"You know. My balls only need a purse because they've grown large enough these days to require additional care. If you weren't vibrating your own off with that crotch rocket of yours you might know something about that." ---
Rune gives a little nod. The fact that his presence is requested doesn't even seem to surprise him. At this point, he might be surprised -- and a little suspicious -- if Coda tried to leave him behind on one of these little adventures if there's any sense of 'weird' to it.
He spins his pen easily between his fingers, thinking it over. "So. We thinking -- kitchen table, then? For the grabbing it and the bringing it back?" Though he does stop a moment, completely unfamiliar with the Mysteries of Correspondence outside of the broadest general knowledge. "Do you even know where to grab it *from*? Seems like you'd need to know *where* the thing is before you can bring it *back*. Unless you can do that too?" Though he's quick to add, "Sounds exhausting, though. Especially if your balls are so heavy they require a bag. Thankfully, me and my crotch rocket keep mine at a manageable heft." Beat. "And her name is Chelsea."
---
The motorcycle gets the comment first, his lips twitching. "All the shit you give me, about my beautiful Leaf, and how theoretically it means I cannot get laid. And yet you're the one naming your giant vibrator on wheels?"
Mildly spoken, laughing sally aside, thinking about the problem of getting this done is far more of an intriguing conversation.
"It's somewhere in Space," Coda says thoughtfully. "And it's a unique item, which I have a photo of and an exact description of. It's just a matter of homing in on the object. I know where we are. I know it's somewhere. I know what it is. Kitchen table would work. Thinking of layering in a luck spell so that nobody is in the room where it is when we go looking."
And since that means they can do the spell together, making it that much easier, that seems all the wiser.
---
Rune gives a little nod to that. "I can probably do a quick read," he suggests. "See when the best time to move would be. Don't know how accurate the answers would be with so little information but." He offers a little one-shouldered shrug. "Better than going in completely blind."
Not that they're all that *far* from completely mind.
Magic, kids. It cannot, in fact, solve all of your problems. Magic is often the problem.
Irony.
Standing up, Rune stretches lazily, tossing the cigarette out onto the sidewalk as he turns toward the house. "Guess it's time to go change." Looking back over his shoulder, he asks, "You need me to break into my stash for anything? What do we need? What're we missing?"
---
Coda puts out his own cigarette but holds on to it to throw away in the trash in a moment. He picks up the spare sandwich and considers the question of Rune's stash, mentally writing and rewriting the spell, the order of events.
"I don't think so unless you need something for throwing the cards," he muses. He can write all over the kitchen table while Rune does that, and then trigger the spell at the appropriate time. "I haven't done the mathematical descriptions of your stash recently enough to make those connections off the top of my head, anyway."
---
Rune gives a shake of his head. "Nah," he says. "Drugs are good sometimes. But right now, I'm thinking -- a quick scrying bowl. Ink and water. Nothing fancy. It'll give us a rough answer. And then I'm gonna take a long, hot shower and wash the work off of me. Thank god ritual ablutions in the modern day don't require dunking yourself in a freezing fucking river..."
He takes off his apron, stripping out of his shirt as well, throwing them both off to the side. Though as Coda starts to talk about the mathematical descriptions, Rune just turns to look at the man, eyebrows knitting with amusement. "You are such a nerd," he laughs, though there's no judgment in there. If anything, the years have proven that Rune is more fascinated by Coda's methods than judgmental of them, even if he rarely understands the depth at which the man's mind works.
That doesn't stop him from studying the calculus book, though.
