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Something that looks like a replica of Bonnie & Clyde's death car pulls into the parking lot at the Fillard Goldman Museum. Inside are three men, one of whom parks the car while simultaneously wondering what they were going to find here, and hoping the ruined car wouldn't attract any more attention. Joshua parks as far from the street as he can, just to be safe. "So what are we looking for, exactly?" he asks West.
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Well.
What were they looking for?
Now that there was no imminent danger of Joshua forgetting to steer when he saw the picture, West handed it over.
"Let's see if there's any Awakened history of mages showing up... around one hundred and fifty years ago... who dressed and or talked funny," he said slowly, trying to decide what would stand out immediately.
He left out the other small detail, just giving the time rather than event, in case Joshua didn't make the connection yet.
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The museums open by the looks of it and the Arrow in the back seems to be ready to lie down. He does move forward. "From what we could tell there wasn't anything but the Mysterium's having a bit of a chip on their shoulder so they could just be holding out."
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Joshua peers at the photo and frowns once it starts to come together. He takes it in, then hands it back to West. There are clear questions on his face but he does not speak them. Instead he just says, "All right," unbuckles, and--after shoving the door a few times and finding it unresponsive--climbs out of the hole in the roof.
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West pondered the car himself for a moment.
He debated taking a picture of it and sending it to Ankh.
See? The No Car thing is for a reason.
His head dipped at the comment about the Museum holding out and he turned to Joshua.
"Find the Curator. See if they know anything. I'm going to make sure we weren't followed."
Just because they were chasing whatever Tug had been chasing didn't mean they weren't being chased themselves. Especially since they seemed to have A Guy With Answers with them.
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"Right," Joshua says. He strips off his coat and hands it into the back seat, telling Madog, "Lay down, get comfortable." Don't bother the Magister is the unspoken thought. Then Joshua slaps a hand on the hood, adds, "Make sure no one steals my sweet ride," and heads towards the museum's door.
There's a brief moment where he thinks he ought to ask the guy along--he didn't quite trust him and wanted to keep an eye on him--but there was no way he was bringing a stranger into the Museum again. Not after last time.
He makes his way inside and up to the desk of a certain gum-popping chanteuse. "Excuse me, Gina?" he asks, "My name is Mr. Morris. I'm here to see the Curator."
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Gina popped her bubble gum. She looked up at him for a moment, put down the magizine she had been studying intensely, which was talking about how spices can be used to spice more than just food.
"He's not here, can I help you?"
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West leaned against the car, where he could look down at their passenger.
He needed watching as much as anything else. The only upside was Joshua's car was fucked up enough that a new bullet hole or three probably wouldn't set him off too much.
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A frown crosses Joshua's face, and is quickly banished. Not here? Tyria would have been--but he stops that line of thought right away. Tyria wasn't Curator anymore, and even the Wise needed a day off now and then. Too bad Joshua didn't know any of the new Mysterium, or if any of them worked at the museum. He had no more ins.
And this is why you can't be Johnny-Locked-In-The-Ivory-Tower.
"Would you be able to call him, perhaps? Or maybe one of his research associates? Odd as it may sound, I have a bit of an emergency situation and I need to see archives of the city's history." He pauses, then softly reminds Gina, "I was on Dr. Primoria's 'special list.' I'm sure the current Curator has a similar setup." I hope.
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She nods and digs around.
"Here you go boss." she says dropping a book in front of him. "Your the second person to day who wanted this. Fancy that." She says and pops a bubble.
West notices the man waiting for him to ask, laying back looking tired. No one seems to be following them.
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