(Heroes) Books and Barbedwire

[Yumyumcrow]

"Bound with barbed wire?" Armitage inspected the contents of the ruined bag quickly, all the while resolutely holding the threshold against Coco's invasion. A note of curiosity now hangs in her voice, even if suspicion clouds her face. Finally, a decision is made. "Come in then." Armitage opened her door further, wide enough to grant the pair admittance. She remains at the threshold as the pair enter, poking her head out into the street to give it one last sweep before closing her door.

Armitage's home is a comfy haven, filled with a lifetime of memories. Ornaments sit in nooks and crannies; musical instruments hang, carefully placed on the warm coloured walls; photographs and prints are framed on the walls. They are led to the dining area at the back, overlooking a leafy and green garden; the old professor places her still steaming mug on the table and gestures for the pair to take a seat.

"Lets see what you have, then."

[Coco]

"You have such a lovely home," Coco gushed as she was let inside, her faceted quatrain eyes sweeping over the ornaments upon the walls with a strangely possessive fervor, as though just the sight of them granted her some indefinable amount of fulfillment. After Jack's casually cruel comments about her bad, which had been slaved for, rather than received effortlessly, she most assuredly needed this balm of materiality.

Her hungry gaze satisfied after a quick sweep, the claviger soon bounded over to her seat and sank into it, her can standing upright between her feet, her hands resting atop it.

[Star]

Ooh, knick-knacks.

And instruments.

Slow that roll, this isn't a tour. But, no seriously, knick-knacks. Were any of them magical? Maybe souvenirs. Professor Armitage, International Woman of Mysteries. That sounded legit. And a little ominous.

"Right, right. Errr. Lovely. Home." Women always did that. The compliment thing. Guys really don't, and then you have to wonder if you should, or shouldn't. And, really, what makes a home lovely? Theaters aren't lovely, but they're fantastic homes. True story. Unless lovely meant shove all the knick-knacks in a bag? Lovely home, yo.

"What is that? Is that coffee? Or tea?"

Because Make Yourself At Home.

[Yumyumcrow]

"Its coffee. Why? Would you like some?" The suspicious edge remains. Armitage watches, hovering as the pair seat themselves. The bag, its contents still shrouded in mystery, sits on the table between them. The old professor gestures: "You can take it out the bag now. Its safe enough in here." Something in her manner implies she has done this routine before.

[Coco]

"Jack, be a good boy and remove the grimoire for the Professor, would you?" Coco ordered casually, flapping a hand in the direction of her bag. Normally she would have removed it herself, but something in the professor's demeanor was too commanding for Coco's liking, and Coco would never again stoop to being someone else's servant. Well, not someone like Armitage. The Queen's and Kings of the Freehold were entirely different. This old thing, though, Coco would never allow to boss her around! Thus, she diverted the lightly spoken order. The cameraman likely didn't have over much pride. He'd probably do it.

[Star]

"What kind is it? The coffee?"

Eyes flickered to Armitage, then Coco. What. The. Heck. Did she think he lived in a world where he took random directives from imperious women to do any old thing?

He got the book out.

Carefully, holding it, sliding it, easing it out as barbs caught, then finally holding it and pondering where to place it. Look long enough, and the obvious is finally... obvious.

Depositing the book on the mutilated bag, he slid it over.

"It was in a fire. Nothing's burning now, but, that's the smell."

[Yumyumcrow]

"Oh its a Robusta blend, which I get from the Coffee house a block or so away..." The flippant comment mutters and dies on Armitage's lips once Star presents the book. The moment remains drawn, transforming into a weighty pause as the old professor unconsciously acquires a seat and sits gently; her mouth is open; her free hand hangs uncertain but most desirous to reach out and touch the grimoire that has caused so much trouble.

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-04-30 03:46:18		Armitage knows things rolls 7 to do something insignificant (10 Again)		5, 10, 9, 6, 8, 10, 9, 5, 10, 10, 2		7 successes

"Please tell me... Please tell me you found this book like this..."

[Coco]

"Of course! What, you think we'd be idiot enough to remove the binding wire?" Coco's voice replied bluffly to Armitage, though her eyes skittered over to Star, a blatant "Ha! Told you so!" evident in her gaze.

[Star]

Coffee house?

"Like, a real coffee house or See-- Starbucks? I like coffee, but I once read this thing? It talked about coffee beans out in fields, drying. They, like, rot, and birds poo on them. It kind of creeped me out." True story.

Turn around, bright eyes.

"Uh. Kind of. Actually? We found it with some old lady in a bathrobe, like, burning her house down." That's even creepier than nasty coffee beans. File under Old Ladies and Bath Robes.

"And barfing. She barfed."

Gross.

[Yumyumcrow]

The old professor blinked, hand retracting from the book.

"There is a fair amount of lore that states books of his this type were designed to contain... ah... demons and bad spirits. If the binding was broken..." She shook her head. "I'm rambling."

Gingerly, she takes the book and carefully goes through it. She turns a shade paler. With a sigh, she continued: "I'd say that this is a bad conjure book. Its a book of sending curses or inflicting bad spirits on an enemy. Hard to say exactly, but I think early 20th century so it would be one of the last of its kind - the tradition dies out mid-century. Its not a complete work though... if you look here, here and here, you can see how the pages and text are very different from the main body: this book builds off earlier works. Some - such as this section - must be 18th century..."

She placed the book down with a mixture of reverence and revulsion.

"I'd hazard a guess the barbed wire was added later. Its original function was a conjure book and only later did someone - or some people, I'd say - bind the work and... well... neutralise it, I guess is the word I'm looking for. Whoever did it were practitioners and they did it to bring an end to the book as a functional thing. They may well have believed that they were locking a malign influence inside."