|Characters:||Axle, Agatha. Saulot|
|Summary:||Axle goes in search of a spirit to learn the Fetish Rite.|
The Fixers maintain a locus at the warehouse, so there's no reason for them not to use it to cross over into the Shadow. Axle sends a text message to invite Agatha to do some spiritual scouting with her; whatever time he chooses. She's dressed for the trek in her new pair of overalls and motorcycle boots, with a plain, dark red muscle shirt worn underneath the bib of the overalls.
Sipping on a bottle of water, she sits outside the warehouse on an overturned 5-gallon bucket, kind of staring off into space when Agatha arrives.
Agatha arrives a little later than when he said he would. He's dressed as he usually is: like a tourist that just doesn't give a fuck. He wears a bright yellow Tigers shirt, black cargo shorts, and black tennis shoes that looked fairly new and were already caked in dirt. When he gets to the warehouse he looks around slowly.
He may not be some young cub, but he still appears on edge. He doesn't need to be in wolf form to look like his hackles are already raising off the back of his neck before he greets the Ithaeur. "Something tells me that I shoulda came here from the otherside." He has a bottle in hand, that he lifts for her to see as green liquid sloshes around inside.
A grin comes to her lips as he arrives and greets her. When he seems out of sorts, she pushes up off the bucket and comes over, saying, "Relax. This is my home, and you're welcome here, dude. I keep telling you that," she adds with a flash of a grin on her face, amiable affection writ on her features.
"What is that? Mountain Dew? Absinthe? Green pee?" she jokes.
"If-" Agatha stops as his gaze narrows and his head tilts. "Who pisses green?" Then he continues walking to her, and holds the bottle for her to take. "You can keep saying it's fine, but I've been in that situation too. 'It's fine. We're good here.' I'll admit that I wasn't completely innocent those two times, but that don't make trespa- going onto other folks' turf can be a happy go-lucky time."
"People who don't drink enough water," Axle interjects on the subject of green piss, wiggling the bottle of generic 'spring' water she holds. Probably out of a tap in Flint Michigan. "I hear ya. You do you. If anyone gives you shit, I'll punch them right in the nads, though." She gestures toward the warehouse itself, starts to walk in that direction. There's a garage door on the front of the place, open halfway, and she stoops down to duck underneath and go inside, staying leaned over to ensure Agatha comes in behind her.
"So, I was thinking I would like to learn how to make those Fetishes that I've seen my dad's friends use up in South Dakota. Get a spirit to teach me how."
"This ain't for me, anyway. Well, it was. I got four more in my places around the city." He smiles briefly as he heads inside, and hands off the bottle to her. "That's for you. It's this moonshine I got from some bayou fuck that will fuck you up. Might also put some hair on your chest, too. I try to save it for when I really just wanna get wasted truly and deeply."
When she takes the bottle he reaches inside his shirt to pull out an oddly colored red and green stone hanging on a leather strip. "Like this?" He lets it fall over his chest after holding it up for a few seconds longer. "I think I know something that can help you, but I'll have to burn a favor and you're gonna be doing whatever grunt work is needed for this."
He hands her the bottle and she takes it, tucking the bottle of water into her overalls pocket, out of the way. The cap is taken off and she sniffs the moonshine, making a bit of a *pew* face in the process. When Agatha takes the stone out of his shirt, she looks over toward it and steps a little closer, bending slightly at the shoulders so she can peer at it. The tip of her tongue appears at her lips; oh dear lord. She isn't planning to lick it is she? Naw, she just does that sometimes when she is focused or concentrating.
Straightening up, she flashes a grin. "So you're saying I'll owe you a favor or someone else a favor? I'm cool with that."
The stuffs like it might be made of blood, sweat, vinegar, and maybe a slight hint of sugar. Something else fruity is in there, but it doesn't have as strong of a scent. That coppery smell is the strongest, though.
When she steps closer and looks like she might take a lick at the amulet he looks ready to swat her away. "If you put your tongue on this I'mma head out." Then he takes a step back and clears his throat. "Both. I ain't gonna ask for your firstborn or some crazy shit like that, but we'll swear on it when it's all said and done. The favor, work, or whatever Lore Lord is going to need is going to be between you two. Not me aside from getting to him."
A soft laugh sounds as he threatens to leave; but Axle learned the hard way not to invade his personal space overmuch, when he batted her off his horn. She lets the matter go without further comment, taking another step back and resting her hand on her hip, that bottle in her other hand. "Should I drink this now or...?"
"If you're hungry there's plenty of stuff in the kitchen. If not we can head on out. In? Elsewhere. Wherever," she says with a soft laugh.
"Up to you if you drink. For good luck with your hunts." Agatha reaches into his left hip pocket, and he pulls out a flask. It smells of whiskey and fruit punch, and after unscrewing the top he takes a few quick sips. "I'll steal some food on the way out, but I don't eat before I go over because I don't want to be caught with my pants literally or figuratively down."
"Good call. No sense getting mauled to death while taking a shit," Axle remarks with a another little good-natured cackle of laughter. She jogs over to the garage area and opens a drawer to stash the bottle of green moonshine in; she also takes something out of another drawer. Looks like some kind of flashlight but also looks a bit like a billy club; she clips it on her hammer loop with a caribiner, before she goes back to rejoin Agatha and gesture toward the loft of the warehouse. "It's up here. Don't be alarmed when you see beds. I'm not trying to seduce you or anything. It just so happens to be here the aperture is." She starts in that direction, jogging up the stairs.
"You know, you're a strange nut," Agatha remarks. "I ain't much better I admit, and I don't think you're trying to seduce me. If you were I don't think you're supposed to be talking about taking a shit beforehand. At least as far as I recall." He's not as quick up the stairs, and instead takes another swig of his drink before stowing it back in his pocket. "Even if I am starting to like that goddamned cackling of yours."
"Hell, if you can't have fun when you're fucking, you might as well not bother doing it. Which counts before or after it, too. But anyway. How did we get off on this subject? Ah well," Axle says, shrugging it off. She doesn't acknowledge the laughter remark; she only started laughing like that after her first change, and it sometimes worries her a little bit. One of those eccentricities of being an Ithaeur. By way of 'concealment' there's one of those triptych screens in front of the actual area of the locus. She folds it aside and gestures at the vicinity like a game show showcase model demonstrating a brand new washing machine. "Here we are. You want to go in first or together or...?"
"There's probably people out there that don't have fun with it." The thought gets a laugh out of the Elodoth as they approach the Locus. "Who goes when doesn't matter unless there's someone waiting on the other side with a baseball bat like Tom." That thought sobers him just enough to wipe the growing smile off his face. He's left with that as he starts to fade from reality, and begin to reach over to the other side.
"Tom who?" she asks. She never did get to meet the fellow who would have accompanied them to chase after Sexy Dan and the Rat-Lickers. She starts across, herself, closing her eyes as she allows herself to fade into a mode of concentration and openness and all that other mystical bullshit.
Once inside the Shadow version of the warehouse, she gives a look around to check if anything needs to be cleaned up or cleared away in the vicinity of the Locus. Lots of little everyday spirits that surrounded a home are in evidence, as well as some little naughties related to larceny, industry, and even agriculture due to the hydroponics operation Ramsey has in the lower level.
Agatha lets out a breath he'd been holding when he finally materailizes fully in the shadow. Axle gets an askance glance from the Elodoth. "Tom and Jerry. My pops loved it, and made sure all of us watches that shit growing up." He stretches his arms high, and pushes himself up to the tips of his toes for a few moments. "You think you're good enough on four legs for a run? We got a good ways to go to get where we're heading."
"Ohhh. That Tom. We didn't have cable so I mostly watched the PBS cartoons when I was little. Except for Wishbone. I hated that stupid dog," Axle admits. Satisfied that there are no spiritual weeds to be pulled around the locus, she heads over toward where Agatha waits. "I think I can keep up in my wolf body. And if I can't, you're welcome to ditch me for being lame," Axle offers. Having spoken, she crouches down and extends forward, transforming to her Urhan self.
Agatha opts to hift down into the massive wolf that is Urshul. He shakes a bit as horns burst further from his forehead. They're slightly longer than the usual shorter nubs and curve forwards over his head. ~Let's move, and I'm not going to leave you. Don't forget that.~ With that said he turns around facing the stairs they came up in the real world, and starts leaving the reflection of the warehouse.
When Axle notices how large Agatha has grown, she shifts into the same form, though still a smaller version of the dire wolf. She'll always be a little bit smaller, especially with so many damned tall people in her midst. She nimbly follows after him toward the lower portion of the warehouse; a lot of 'Weaver' type spirits of creation and mechanics in that part of the place. She remains on alert, chuffing to him, ~I will remember. Same here. I protect friends.~
Agatha remains silent while he moves out of the warehouse, although he's clearly more at ease here than on the other side. ~Keep up,~ he barks behind to her. He sniffs at the air to get a feel of the place, and remember a few choice scents in those seconds. Then he's off like a black bolt of lightning, leading the Ithaeur southward.
There's no dalliance this time such as there was the first couple of times she explored the Hisil. Now she is focused and intent on following Agatha to his destination, keeping up in terms of speed and stamina for now. Her ears are pricked and alert, nostrils flaring from time to time, tongue sticking out as she also tastes the air, increasing the amount of sensory data.
The familiar smells and scents of their territory prove to be a welcome thing. Soon enough they reach The Fixers' borderlands. Agatha lifts his snout to the air to take one long, deep breath. When he's sure of it he starts moving again, and after it appears Axle can keep up he doubles in speed. Even in those massive forms he's likely to wear her out with all of this running without a moment for a break.
It'll take her a while to wear out in this form, but when it does come she'll stumble and slow down before she ever admits she needs to stop; stubbornness was her strongest vice when she was still human and she hasn't learned to outgrow it. For now she enjoys the running, letting herself feel the movement in her fur with her tongue lolling in the same breeze, eating up turf in Agatha's wake.
As things transition away from Little Woods into Pines Village the typical urban spirits become sparser in number. Many of the dilapidated and abandoned homes and building that dot the landscape still have a presence on this side of Gauntlet, however minor it may be. Spirits of entropy, disrepair, and abandonment call this place home; and each of them gives the werewolves just a little bit of attention. The horned wolf leading the charge draws much of it, but the Ithaeur gets more than her fair share of eyes and attention on her.
Agatha finally comes to stop, and doesn't speak just yet. No, the werewolf is sucking in air after all that running into the edges of Pines Village. He sits down on his haunches as he keeps sucking in air while his tongue hangs from his maw. After he can finally get a second wind he speaks. ~After I talk to Drowned-Home-Alone this going to be all on you. Understood?~
She's worn out. When he stops to rest she fully flops down and sprawls on one side, head still raised up and sides heaving and bellowing as she breathes heavily. ~Yes. I understand. I accept.~ She remains conscious of her surroundings by looking around often, but continues to rest while he addresses whatever entity they have come to see in this neck of New Orleans.
Agatha shifts up and out again, wearing the form of the wolfman as he still takes in deep breaths. He sets his hands on his hips, and after a long sigh he starts moving again. "Wait here, and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Actually, do what I would do." He shrugs and then starts walking away. "Do whatever, really," he says before entering a house that's sagging under the weight of its failings in the skin world.
For the time being, the Ithaeur remains in the dire wolf form; shifting down to Hishu might make her pass out from breathlessness at this rate. But she sees no harm in remaining as she is for the time being. As Agatha disappears inside the house, she struggles to her feet, tongue still hanging limp from her mouth. Her tail gives a small flick, keeping a few curious spirits from fiddling with the bristly appendage; otherwise she's unbothered by their presence.
Agatha isn't seen for sometime, but at least there isn't the smell of blood in the air. Of all the spirits that take note of Axle two appear to be the most noteworthy and powerful. A facsimile of a raptor sitting atop one of the abandoned buildings that keeps its black eyes locked on Axle. The other is that of a canid-looking beast that's more mouth and teeth than head. It doesn't look directly upon the Ithaeur, but its scoping her out from afar and not hiding to well behind an overlarge trashcan.
Those two spirits don't do unnoticed as she rests. She might overlook them in the very beginning, but she spies them eventually. There's no overt attempt made to interact with them; however, she does yawn extensively, showing off that mouthful of sharp teeth for them to see. After that she shakes her head and pushes herself up off the ground, shaking out her fur, lest they think she is an invalid who has to keep laying down, therefore potential prey.
She lays back down in a position that lets her keep an eye on the raptor out front, and the canid in her peripheral vision.
Agatha's only gone for a quarter of an hour, and in that time the canid creeps closer and closer. It doesn't make overt advances to the werewolf, but its nearness can't be ignored as the minutes pass by. Right at the fifteen minute mark Agatha's blood begins to flow into the air, and soon enough the Elodoth can be seen coming out of the house with a bloodied palm that'll heal quickly enough.
Axle's near ear flicks in the direction of the canid. Perhaps her subtle way of letting it know she sees it and acknowledges that it is moving closer. She spent her youth watchiing a lot of PBS shows, including Nature and NOVA. What she doesn't know about beasts could fill many volumes, but she's an armchair enthusiast, at least. When she smells the copper tang of blood in the air, and recognizes that it is tied to Agatha's scent, she pushes herself slowly back up. Not moving too fast; she doesn't want to spook the canid.
Her tail gives a back and forth swish as she spies the Elodoth.
~I made some friends while you were gone.~ she chuffs.
Agatha shakes his hand a few times, flicking blood along the street without a care. He flexes and clenches his hand into a fist when looking over to Axle. With a motion he calls her over, and stays in his current form. "We're going to have to bargain or attack with some small spirits there, but after that we can get to Lore Lord. Like I said, this is what you're after so when we get to the library you say how it all goes down." Then he's walking again where they need to go. "You lead, I'll follow."
She comes closer when she's beckoned to do so, ears pricked at the scent of blood. She watches what he does with his hand, dispersing the droplets he does. At the moment she's comfortable in this form; especially with the two predatory entities in their immediate vicinity. "Into the house?" Axle verifies with a nod toward the same place he so recently exited, making sure she knows which destination she's leading the way to.
"Nah. That's part of the favor I had to get some exact directions." Agatha remains in Dalu as they walk. "Not in there, though. Shouldn't be any more running." Beat. "So long as nothing and no one is offended I don't think there'll be anymore running. We just got a few blocks and then a right."
Head up and tail frisky, Axle pads on along as Agatha explains the situation; the rest was sufficient to give her the energy needed to walk a short distance. She should have used some of the time to shift and take a drink from her water bottle; next time. At any rate, she heads on in the indicated direction, giving an occasional look back to see if the duo is being followed by the predators.
~Some day I hope I am as cool as you are.~ she jokes.
"Keep it up, you goddamned hyena, and I'll-" He stops, and shakes his head. "We ain't playing that game. When we're done here, though, you do owe me. Nothing major. I don't want anything that'll endanger your life, your dignity, or anyone or anything close to you. I'll just need a favor well before the end of the next lunar month. Deal?"
The curly-haired female slows her steps for a couple of paces as Agatha has that short-lived outburst, glancing over at him for reassurance that he's all right. She assumes the canid is the hyena he's referring to. Ears swivel in the creature's direction and she communicates, ~You will have whatever favor you deem necessary, friend. That is a promise.~
"I always knew you were the trustworthy sort," Agatha admits. "Also potentially the type to drive me crazy." He pauses, and quickly corrects, "Crazier." He rolls his eyes before looking around. "Thankfully, that's Sparkles' problem and not mine. We're almost there, though."
~Trust and word of honor is all we have sometimes,~ Axle chuffs back as she continues to pad onward. She spies the junction that she thinks is the one he means for them to turn right into, pausing a moment to look toward Agatha for a moment. ~Crazy can be useful. Chaos leads to change. Crazy is pure chaos.~
She flicks her ear and, while paused, transforms into her Hishu form while at that intersection. "And rice-a-roni is the San Francisco treat," she adds.
"Chaos is good," says the man the horns of a demon. "It can be a beautiful thing so long as it doesn't get too outta hand. After that I leave it to God's hands, but I can live with that too." Then he stops, looks around for a second. "This'll be our turn, and then the library. Wait. What's this about rice-a-roni?"
The bottle is tugged out of Axle's pocket so she can take off the cap and sniff it, drinking if it still smells like water. The only thing she has eaten in the Hisil so far is an asshole of a spirit. She does start to walk once more, taking the right as instructed, at this intersection. "Just a saying from television. The jingle for a rice dinner. It goes quite nicely with canned corn," Axle explains with a grin. She offers him a drink from the half-full water bottle.
"I'll take your word for that. I prefer meat in most everything nowadays. Which, yes, has made things kinda weird with where I can eat. Also sucks for where I can take people since I honestly don't like wasting my time on a date in a place that serves small crap." Agatha huffs at that, and soon slows his gait to follow behind Axle.
Then they see it. The grand old library that ain't so grand anymore. The old place was just as poorly hit by Katrina like everything else around here. The spirits of water that called this place home for a good little while are long gone, and in their place is forgotten knowledge, lost lore, and abandoned writing. Some of the spirits here have turned magath, and at the sight of two Uratha get the hell out of their quick. The doors of the library are open, and the windows barely held there in a jagged fashion as if to break from the slightest touch.
"You need to go to one of those Mongolian grill places. They love to feed you giant meat like brontosaurus burgers and shit. Endless meats." The bottle is tucked back into her pocket as Axle pauses for a moment to take in the sight of the library and its surroundings. Spying the Magath, she senses something is different about them on a gut level, and it gives her pause. She watches them rush off -- starts to ask Agatha about them, but decides to wait until a better time. "This is amazing," she murmurs, expression a mixture of reverse and awe, in spite of the ruined nature of the library.
Once more she starts to walk forward, reaching the steps to ascend to the entrance doors, waiting a moment as if to allow the site to respond to her presence and become acclimated to her as she tried to do for it.
"You can tell me about a place like that later." Agatha has little reverence for much, and keeps on trucking as the place gives the Ithaeur pause. He stops at doors, and leans against one to watch her take the place in. "I know I said it before, but it bears repeating. THis is you trying to learn something, so let's step to. If you wanna talk to everything here, burn it to the ground, or whatever. You lead, I'll follow."
"Got it," Axle replies when he reminds her of their purpose there. She ascends the steps and moves toward the opens doors. Something tells her the knowledge will be better inside than out here in the open, where things have been picked clean by the various conglomerations of remaining spirits. This time she doesn't pause, just steps across the threshold and into the interior of the library's reflection in the Shadow. As she goes, she calls out, "Who will share a secret with me? I have knowledge to share in return," she offers.
When she affirms his words Agatha flashes a cricked grin. As Axle begins to walk bow, Agatha takes a bow as if presenting the royal throne to the crown. He steps in pace behind her, and then moves off to the side.
The spirits abound were content to ignore the werewolves, but then she dangles the carrot. Not all of them run, but a few of the smaller ones do right away. One of them, a drowned out book that has to hop to get to Axle's direction flaps its pages tos peak to her. ~What is it? What?~ Another, a thousand voices all coming from a bookshelf whose books lean out with each word spoken. ~Return this information, wolf. Now.~ Several more book spirits start coming up, all of them clamoring for the Ithaeur's attention.
It takes a moment for the cacophony to start -- but when it does, Axle perks up and flashes a diabolical grin. Well, that did it. This is worse than family reunions where all the little nieces and nephews want attention all at once. "Mine isn't stolen information!" she calls out. "It is brand new, of a flavor you have not yet tasted," the Ithaeur promises the entities that clamor for attention; fast becoming a bullshit artist. The flappity spirit of the book approaches and seems to be the most obvious target to focus on first, but she sweeps the area with her gaze to double-check any new contenders.
The more minor spirits of the books want something new. Something useful. Something they can record despite their constantly waning power here. The more powerful spirits abound, the Hursah of the bookshelves are equally greedy. Needy. Willing to trade anything for knowledge of the world that's long since forgotten about this place. ~Give!~ a few pipe up. The longer she waits the more agitated they become, although they show no signs of hostility save their own greed. In a second it's gonna be a feeding frenzy of them jumpong each other.
"Shhh... Shhh... I will share one bit with all... And much more with the one who shares knowledge with me in return," Axle offers. "For all: The hour is coming soon when the land will see a major weather event. Two storms may come together in the big water of the Gulf. You must prepare for the arrival of new water beings," she tells the books, becoming animated as she shares the information with them. "Move up to higher ground if you can," she warns them.
She walks around the area as she speaks, looking here and there at the chattering entities, still on the lookout for one in particular she might cofer with. Something larger, bulkier, or older.
The information is taken in silence for a few moments. They speak among thsmelves for a few moments. Not so much whispering as it is the constant page-flipping and -flapping barely registers as a converstation even via the First Tongue. Eventually they speak again as one of the shelves is the first to call to Axle.
~Go inside. Our master would speak with you now, with this great warning.~ As the last words are echoed from a door behind a counter slowly creaks open in invitation. ~Now.~
Axle's expression registers surprise more than anything, at the eventual response from the entities in the ruined library. She glances over toward Agatha, her hands almost non-stop in their fidgeting. She practically trembles with nervous anticipation by now. She turns her head to look at the door that has opened, before she starts to move toward the entryway that has been opened to them; all but jogging the last few steps. "Thank you!" she calls out to the room at large, sticking her head through the doorway before entering fully.
When she looks to Agatha all she gets is a shrug. He points over to her, and leans against the wall while they wait for the spirits to deliberate. The horned man pulls out his flask to start taking a few seips, but that seems to be all that was left in teh flask. He frowns, grunts, and then follows along behind Axle as she starts to move again.
The door leads to a backroom that may as well be a box. Claustrophobic, moldy, and, oddly, a strong smell of overly cooked fish permeates the air here. The light flickers on and off without rhyme or reason, and the intervals are all over the place. Dividing the room into two parts is a long, wooden table that reaches from one end of the wall to the next.
Across from the other side of the table from the two wolves is a spirit. Old, hunched over, and greeting the pair with a warm and almost human smile. It wears a faded, maroon cardigan, white blouse, and denim skirt. Flowing pages with ever changing words fall from her head to her shoulders as hair. "Come in," it commands, with all the warmth of a grandmother welcoming in her family. "I've heard that you have something for the head of the library. So. Speak up, pups. The library closes at 8PM."
The Ithaeur will assume that the information shared outside the room was passed on to the creature behind the table. So she doesn't repeat the knowledge of the coming storm. Instead, she says, "I would like to trade information, please. The knowledge of a ritual for the knowledge I bring in my head. I can tell you of the coming battle between two elders, coming together to vie for power. There's potential for great upheaval. Men are building machines to take them to worlds beyond. They'll bring back vast amounts of new information when they return." She trails off to gauge the spirit's interest in what she has said so far.
"A rite. A ritual. Magick." It nods approvingly to this, and stands there without moving step further. "I have not been here so short a time, wolf, that I know not man's stories. I need service. Work. Offering." It pauses for a moment, and its skin like wrinkled parchment begins to tighten around its form. ~Gathra,~ it rumbles in a heavy, angry tone. It clears its throat before moving on, and act stolen from the skin world.
"I will teach you this, but I need something of you, pup, and I /will/ hold you to your word. Here and now. Build either a momument to learning near here that children and others will still remember. Clean this place until nothing of that damned water remains here in both worlds: flesh and spirit." It leans over the table, overing its papery hand to Axle. The glasses the spirit wears glimmer with the light, always shining even as teh lights over head flicker off for a time. "Do we have a deal, pups?"
"It is in service of my totem, Upgrade, that me and mine seek to improve all things in our purview. I will clean up the area and erect a Free Little Library outside, for all the children of the neighborhood to come and partake of free books and the knowledge inside them. It will attract nighzu and the kiruzu of the youth. If this is agreeable, then we have a deal," Axle confirms, as she reaches out to take the offered hand with one of her own long-fingered ones, eyes flicking down to take note of the papery quality of the entity.
The spirits fingers are long, spindly. Almost stick-like. However, her grip is strong enough that Axle's not pulling back her hand until the spirit relinquishes it. "Good. We have a deal, pup. One of mine will direct you to the book you need with every symbol you will require. Do be quiet, though, as the library is a quiet place of study." She smiles to that, and takes a step back.
"Thank you, Wise One," Axle tells the spirit. Touching its strength makes her suddenly more somber about the situation than she has been before. The giddiness drains away, and she's left feeling just the commitment of the contract. But it's not a bad thing, she she does smile as the entity steps back.
She looks toward Agatha with another smile on her mouth, giving her brows a little wiggle at him before she backs humbly away from the table and toward the exit; like she's worried about turning her back on the spirit, doesn't want to insult it. At any rate, she moves back outside to the library itself, looking around at the surrounding stacks of spirit-books and other critters.
The spirit drops away as the old woman of the library disappears into nothingness. Nothing of the spirit's presence remains in the room, although its attention can be felt all around them. When Axle looks back to Agatha she's met with a tilt of his head. Then when she starts heading out he's quick to follow behind her.
Back into the library proper and the spirits are silent, and without a word for the werewolf now taht she's spoken with the head of the building. Literally. There are as many inanimate bookshelves as there are spirits.
After a few seconds a spirit nearly to her waist in height bumps into her to get her attention. Letters and numbers floating about nebulously. It sounds like its speaking in tongues until it eventaully starts moving if Axle can't get what its saying. It leads her to the a spot near the middle of the library where a single book sits by itself on the shelf. Leatherbound, old, and smelling of smoke. Sigils and glyphs of the spirit tongue have been carved into the binding and the cover along with each dried out page.
She feels that nudge, but doesn't understand the confusing jumble of sounds; perhaps what speech sounded like before the languages were all separated or something mystical like that. Or it could just be another language she doesn't know; she's willing to admit that not everything is a mystery.
She came prepared for this; down in the bib of her overalls is a little note pad and a stub of pencil. The pad is grimy with grease from her garage; she must use it a lot when she's tinkering with cars. She flips it open as she follows after the spirit, looking down to it with a grin. "Thank you. I will be careful with the book," she promises. She picks it up carefully from the shelf and lays it on its back cover so she can open it up without carrying it far.
The book itself is old. Far older than Axle. Older than Agatha, too. It's likely senior to every living and unliving thing in this town. The pages and the information presented isn't easily readible or understood, but after a while it can start to sink in. Binding and holding a being. A life. A spirit. Keeping it chained away. Held in place. Locked tight. This price is paid in blood. A toll of crimson. A bribery of life. Throughout the book are exaples, loosely explain or horribly drawn in. Fetishes and fetters of varying types and purpose. Agatha remains silent for a bit until she has the book in her hands. His gaze briefly falls to the one he had to cut open earlier. Back to Axle his eyes go as he asks, "Take the time you need, and then I drop you back off at your turn unless you wanna be by yourself for a while."
She opens it and carefully turns a few pages, looking back and forth from a couple at first. When Agatha speaks, she turns to look toward him, a soft smile on her lips. "Do you want to look, too? To learn it?" she offers. Then interjects, "Are you allowed to do that?" with a tilt of her head. She looks down at the notepad and sketches a couple of runes, makes a few notes. No ritual is ever performed the same way by two different rite masters. That much she knows. So what she takes away from the book will be completely different than what someone else might.
"I didn't make any part of the deal, and I'm not going to see if we can go against the literal spirit of a deal." One of the few times his auspice shines through with that statement. Agatha lifts both hands and shakes his head. "I'm not looking to learn how to make 'em, though. I'm content enough binding them as is, where doesn't matter as much to me."
Axle nods once in understanding as she looks back. A grin is flashed and she looks back to the book once more. It takes some minutes for her to look through it initially, and then to go back a second time to make additional notes, doodles and sketch some symbols in the notepad, filling several of the small pages in the process. Then she takes time to go back over her notes.
She takes the time she needs, in the end. And then closes the notepad and tucks it back inside her pocket with the pencil, and then carefully closes the book and tries to set it back up in the same position it was when she found it.
"Wow. That'll be a fun one," is all she says.
Agatha fetched one of the more mundane affairs while Axle studied. Whatever it was he was reading had him completely lost in thought, and happy to keep on reading quietly. Then Axle pipes up, and his head jerks up at attention. "What now? Oh right." He closes the book, and sets it behind his back while looking to her. "Ready to head out?""I am. Do you need some more time?" she asks, fishing out the bottle of water and draining another swallow of its contents. She offers it over once more, in case Agatha has gotten thirsty in the interim, since he finished off the contents of his flask. Axle pats her bib pocket with the free hand. "Got lots of good notes to practice with."