The study of the bottle was going to be long and arduous. As Circe left to conduct her, ah, illicit dealings and Sera went to talk with the Spring Court, the Lord of the Autumn Court pulled books from the shelves in the Hollow and set to work.
The conversation had been tense. Sera was clearly bristling. But there was a bigger focus needed. He had a job to do.
Pouring himself another cup of camomile tea, he set to work.
1 success
Rhodes sighs heavily. The work to uncover the bottle's secrets was much harder than he thought. Progress had been frustratingly slow. The return of Seraphina, following the earlier discussion, had done nothing for the level of tension in the air.
Still, he had to concentrate.
Around him, black wispy tendrils reached out from his left had probed the bottle on the table. Several books lay open around him, open on pages describing spells of revealing and alchemy. His eyes swirled an inky black from their usual green.
Patience. Patience, my little flower.
The Flowering winced, and pushed his tormentor's voice from his ears.
4 successes
The remains of some takeout stands on the end of the table.
The second stint into the evening was far more revealing - the liquid swirled in the bottle, and eventually beads of light began rippling along the tendrils still probing. The Dread Lord's Mantle ebbs and flows as the knowledge begins to reveal itself. He looks over to Seraphina, working on some of her classwork to give her a tired if wary smile, and pours a dram of whiskey into his coffee.
"It's going well." He steps back, walking up and down along the table edge, staring at the bottle.
1 success
"Shit." The Flowering slams a fist angrily down on the table, and leans his forehead on the other clenched fist.
As evening had drawn into night, Sera had kept coffee coming to his side. In spite of how this evening had started, she was still there. The simmering tension remained, her presence both frustrating and distracting - yet he could not bring himself to turn her away.
Several cups left half-drunk, forgotten as the occultist pursued frustrating dead ends and agonizingly slow. The slowly growing covering of autumn leaves in the feet surrounding the Dread Lord as the black pits of his eyes swirled angrily. Progress was halting at best, and had been feeling non-existant as the night wore on.
The other hand takes the bottle of whiskey and pours it neat into a glass. It was going to be a long night.
6 successes
Dark abyssal eyes surrounded by dark rings of tiredness watch as the Fairest turns the bottle slowly over in long, pale fingers. Strands of magical energy in red, brown, yellow and gold glow around the Dread Lord's wrists and fingers, impaling the bottle at several points, yet leaving the glass undamaged.
The whiskey in the bottle has been heavily drained, but some still remains. There are coffee cups, biscuits and crackers and cheese left to the sides.
Gently the bottle is let go from the fingers, being held aloft by the strands of magic alone. His hands hover inches from the glass, strands moving from his fingertips.
Suddenly, the bottle shakes and the liquid glows with a pale yellowish light, which stretches up along the strands of Autumn magic and touches the Dread Lord's fingertips. His mantle flares, sending the surrounding leaves scattering into the air on twisting zephyrs. Gentle the bottle is plucked from the air, and set down on the table.
Slowly Rhodes looks up at Seraphina, his black eyes begining to drain into his irises, returning to his former bright green. Slowly, he begins to smirk tiredly. "I know what it does."