2025-01-12 - Consulting the Spirit Board

"I still can't believe you took this idea seriously, I was joking, you know," Wesley is informing King with a wry note woven through his voice, plucking a pretzel from the bowl and waggling it in her direction before tossing it up - head goes back - and he catches it triumphantly in his mouth, chewing contentedly and swallowing. He's in a grey hoodie today, although it's unzipped and the hood's back, revealing a blue shirt beneath. Jeans, probably, under the table. Something long and thin is draped over his lap, although that's under the table too.

"After New Year's, though, I'll look for answers anywhere."

"Next rounds on me," Di says as she flags over reinforcements to play an order for another round for anyone in need. She had found herself at the bottom of her rum and coke quicker than expected. She had come to Lucky's straight from work, only stopping home to change into jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt with a square-cut neckline. She's still wearing her makeup from her shift as the enchantress, fake lashes, glitter highlight, and all. Washing it off and starting from scratch would have been too much work. Is what it is.

"You gotta be careful who you joke around, Wes, my man. Some of us can't read all the social cues right." She probably can, but what fun is that? King's already ordered up a round of shots for those who wish to partake, half tequila with orange slices and salt, a quarter jolly ranchers, and some plain ol' whiskey to round things out. She crunches through a pretzel and says, "Two fingers." She wiggles her themely manicure and places them on the planchette. "So, if this is like a shitty cell phone connection, I guess we give 'em what? Thirty seconds on a reply before the next question?" She looks around to see if anybody has a little more experience working these things than her.

"I never refuse a beautiful woman buyin' me a drink," she says to Diana. King's bundled up in black jeans, heeled anklet boots, and a black hoodie with a tattoo shop logo on it, somewhere in Chicago with a flaming heart logo. "Seriously, though, those lashes are it."

She pauses in spirit boarding setup to sneak a tequila shot with an orange slice chaser. No salt.

Should Jack be drinking when King is busting out the spirit board tonight? Probably not but he may want that second drink if a ghost shows up to criticize his performance again so this might be preparedness. He's wearing black jeans, a bright purple long sleeve t-shirt under a black and grey flannel and his leather jacket. The jacket gets dropped like a loadstone into the booth scooting in. If he's had any changes they are not visible right now.

To King he says "Nor should you." He tells Diana, "I don't either so don't skip me over when you go back up." To the others he says, "How are we tonight? Wes, never take the depths to which we will follow bad ideas lightly."

Trace has a beer in front of him that he's only taken a few sips out of since being here, but he seems to be pacing himself and nursing it. He reaches over and grabs a handful of the pub mix in one of the bowls and picks out the rice crackers first. He's in a pair of black jeans, a lightweight sweater in a sage green, and his leather jacket which now is draped along the back of the booth. "To be honest, I've never done this before," he says to King with a chuckle. "Your guess is as good as mine."

He does, however, reach over and puts a couple of fingers on the planchette. "So, just for the record, if we summon a demon or something, it is absolutely not allowed to follow me home. I did not clear that with my roommates."

If they use a spirit board completely sober they'd be breaking a tradition many horror movies deep, Jack!

Wesley reaches out for his beer, raising it up in a salute before draining it so that Diana can buy him another one, because he's not missing out on a round. Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he reaches out a hand to lightly rest his fingers on the edge of the planchette beside King's watchful nails, "Works for me. Also for the record, if we do unleash the forces of Hell like Trace said, this wasn't my idea."

It was absolutely his idea. For the record.

"I'm happy you joked," Di adds. "I've been dying to use this thing," she grins, visibly proud of her pun and looks toward Jack for approval then reaches for a pretzel. "30 seems fair," she says after a moment of thought. "It's within their right to leave us on read if something is too... persona." Was anything too personal for a ghost? She crunched her pretzel.

A sly smile grows on her features and she leans in to kiss King's cheek, or the air near her cheek playfully in response to the compliment. She then flutters her eyelashes. "Love the way they look, hate that whenever I think about them I can see them." Especially since there were itty bitty glitters on the ends.

"I'll take it home," Di assures Trace. "Love a bad boy," she winks playfully and grabs a passing server to order a refill, and whatever Jack, King, would like and a refill of beer for Wes. "That was impressive," She notes to Wes, realizing he'd drained his. She had only turned away for a second!

"To firsts among friends," King says, raiding her empty glass before she puts it down with a click. "Salt doesn't fuck with spirit board reception, does it?" King knows a little bit about a lot of things, and one of those things is hearth and herb superstition and ritual, but none of them is spirit boards. If she knew more, she probably would not be fucking with one today. "God there's nothing like a bad idea when it goes well, is there?" Yeah, fellows, there's a fantastically high chance King's in it for the rush as well as the info. The kiss to her cheek from Di brings a grin to her lips. "My my."

"Okay." She ahems. "Spirits of spellbound." There's a brief pause. King's usually using cards or bones for this stuff. "Do you know why we keep seeing images of loss or being lost in our readings?" She starts small, even though New Years is now the big ticket item on the board. She's still frustrated with how all her readings keep going in circles. She asides, "Come on, what are the odds of demons?" Pfft. She should be vaguely concerned about what Trace said about being followed home by entities, but she is not. Potential 'mea culpa; BLAME WES' to Michael and Matty in her future. She laughs when Diana agrees to take one for the team. "Girl, same."

Jack is here to keep the traditions rolling. "If we unleash the forces of hell I'm stealing them to work into my show." He can work with that. "I'll do an Alice Cooper night it'll be fiiiiine." He lifts his drink to take a last one before agreeing with Diana, "Yes 30 is seeming fair."

His fingers find the planchette and wait. "Okay what we do, King?" He's in for this though now... now what?

"It's all in the throat," Wesley informs Diana, tilting his head back and gesturing a hand up and down the front of his throat, "I'm nothing compared to that old dude that used to be on the Man Show, though. Now that guy could drink a beer."

Then he's focusing on the board as the questions start getting asked, his body shifting in a bit closer in a lean against the edge of the table. "The only flags on this island are red ones," he mutters amusedly as multiple people say they'll keep any demons that show up. His fingers light on the planchette, watching. Will anything happen? Will the board predict tomorrow's lotto numbers? Probably yes, and no, in that order.

Trace raises his beer with his free hand to Wesley seconding his desire for no demonic passengers on the way out the door. Then he settles in to be a little more serious as King begins with the questions. He kind of stares at the board and asks, "So.. is this like in the movies where it just starts zipping around on its own or something?" Then he chuckles and says, "So many red flags." And yet here they are.

Di stifles a laugh. "I'll keep that in mind," she says with a wry smile. She blinks at him. "What the hell is the Man Show?" She looks at the others. What was this?

But there are more important things to focus on. Di quiets down and places her fingers on the planchette. "So no one move it, if the spirits are willing to answer, they'll move it, right?" She looks at king for confirmation. "Is it a problem that we're in public?" She'd only seen this kind of thing in movies.

Apparently, public is just fine!" Did you move it?" She asks the others.

"Just rest the fingies lightly and we ask questions now and then and see if it moves for spelling time," King says. There are a couple small papers ripped from a notepad and golf pencils snatched from the mini golf for scorekeeping, or in this case, writing the messages. She tries to keep it serious but Wes' red flag comment makes her snort a laugh.

"I think it'll probably just start spe—oh." Huh. Yes. Ok. "No. I mean...ok specifics. Spirit, why do we keep seeing these readings?"

She shrugs and looks around the table. Specific enough? She's not freaked out yet, because someone could be moving it.

Jack's best guess about the Man Show is, "Maybe is like home improvement show about fixing the things you broke with your good ideas before your other gets home so you can deny it ever happened?" He considers this and admits, "I might need to watch the back seasons if this is the case.' But then the planchette moves and his brow furrows with it.

Jack says "Yes." Perhaps realizing the timing on that he looks to Diana, "Apology not your question, the answer.." Maybe he was pushing it. Maybe the planchette started it is how his future retelling of this night might go. But it moves and he looks up looking to Wes and then Trace and King. He then instead of asking the question looks around past the table briefly in case.

Trace shakes his head when asked if anyone pushed it. "Not pushing anything. Just resting my fingers on it. That's how this works, right?" He glances from one to the other, making sure. Then he can't help but snort a little, "Well I mean.. it answered the question asked.." He can't fault whatever it is they're talking to for being literal. But he takes another log swig from his beer and waits to see what happens after King's next question.

"Just a dumb show from the 90s," Wes admits, quoting classic television. Then the planchette's moving, and beer is forgotten. His eyes light up a bit in fascination, "I didn't move it."

Another question, an answer, and he spells it out loud one letter at a time. "Find what is lost? Huh. What's lost, though?"

"Break things often, do y—" King starts to tease Jack, but then the planchette is going. And she needs her other hand to write letters down. One at a time in neat caps she writes its message, popping a slash between each word. Luckily that message is easily spelled. She nods when Wes asks the next question, her eyes coming up to focus on the planchette now.

Jack answers King with a murmur trying to stay serious and finding it difficult. "Only hearts, King. On-" this is a lot of wiggling. Nos he is looking around and at the crackling looks up with a squint. He asks, "Everyone else is bothering me. Why cannot I see you?" This he waits for maybe some answer for.

Looking a little concerned or confused (perchance just too sober) he admits, "I don't see anyone so if anyone is giving the lamp feedback please do not get us kicked out of the close bar." Quietly he whispers, "Diana, this is not your illusion, yes?"

The cracking noise sends a chill down Di's spine and she shakes her head no. "I'm not doing anything," she promises, then turns her eyes back to the board. "It's a long shot," Di says, because not everything had to be connected, but the flights flickering and that crackling dome on New Year's just feels like a connection. "Does what is lost have anything to do with the blue light we saw on New Year's Eve?"

Wes's gaze flickers up towards the light. He stops speaking for a moment, then whispers, "I don't think it likes me. Let's leave the questions to her Majest--" Too late, Di's asking a question! He keeps his hand on the plachette, but his eyes upwards.

King glances up when the light flickers. She pauses, then says to Jack, "You and me both, buddy." She's fine, see? Not worried at all that the lights just flickered like they do in every B-movie she made out through. "Who you lookin' to see, J?" She hasn't yet realized he can see ghosts when they're present.

She glances over at Di and says, "Good qu—FUCK!" She fully winces at that pop of a bulb, then hunches down a little when that maybe attracts a glance their way. She reaches for another shot without worry for what flavor she ends up with. Down the hatch it goes. This is fine.

The pop and the sudden going out of the light has Trace instinctively covering his beer. Listen, no one wants glass in their beer. But when there is no shattered bulb all over the place he squints up at the dark bulb a little suspiciously. "I don't think it's happy," is his assessment there. "Whatever it is." Then he looks over at Jack and asks, "See who?"

"You can't see anything?" Di asks Jack, just finding it hard to believe. How does it work that they are speaking to a spirit, but Jack can't see them? The rattling is nerve-wracking, but the pop makes Di jump, and she instinctually covers her head.

"No. I don't think it's happy either," Di says, slowly letting her arms fall again. She reaches for one of the shots, following King's lead, because fuck. "Maybe we should backtrack... get to know them a bit... Ask their name?" Easier things.

When the POP! happens Jack reflexively closes his eyes. Are his knuckles pressing to the planchet a bit blanched? Yes but he will deny that later. There's a breath taken before he nods to Diana and answers Trace. "I, um, we believe I'm haunted. Randomly. I don't know. I've been seeing ghosts for a few weeks. Is-" He asks curious, "Are you a ghost as in the expired soul of a person taken leave of their body?"

His eyes look around to the others. "If is something new then maybe this is a reason?" It is harder to read the board with the light out- not that they are in complete darkness but it was nicely lit before. He leans a bit to allow more light to find the table from nearby sources.

"Guys maybe we should stop asking questions for a second," says Wesley, clearing his throat a bit anxiously after that pop - he was looking right at it, so the timing is definite. He draws in a slow breath before looking back down at the board, though he's too worried to take his hand off the planchette. Jack's revelation sends a look over, eyebrows raising sharply. Haunted? He wants to ask, but he's a bit worried about asking questions right now.

What with the angry lightbulb ghost.

King has questions, but for Jack, not the ghost just now. She doesn't ask them, though, because the more questions that pile up, the more cranky their spirit friend seems to get. Though if Jack can't see it... she squints. And just as Diana is making that suggestion, she watches a drink go over into Jack's lap. "Yeah, ok."

Wes seems to have the right of it, so she zips her lips. And takes the opportunity to down another shot of tequila. She's not rattled at all. She grabs up a napkin holder and just starts pulling out a bunch of paper napkins to hand over to Jack in wads.

Di jumps back as Jack's drink spills into his lap, but she manages to evade being in the splash zone. During the whole ordeal, she'd taken her fingers off the thingamabob. Realizing this, she puts a finger back, albeit a bit hesitantly this time. "I think we should nominate one person to ask the questions. We can debate what questions in between, but... I think they're overwhelmed?"

Seeing King has Jack covered, Di grabs a handful of napkins and starts dabbing the seat with her free hand where the drink had spilled to prevent future wet bottoms.

Trace nods in agreement with Diana and says, "I think maybe everyone rapid-firing questions is probably not a great idea." He pulls his beer closer to himself and holds onto it, perhaps just to make sure that it doesn't end up in his lap. He still has his fingers on the planchette and he seems to be holding his composure but his gaze flicks from one person to the other and then back to the ceiling. "I'm voting not it. I'm just gonna sit here and keep my fingers on the thing."

As the drink spills into Jack's lap, Wes winces. He hates being right sometimes, and it's looking like this may be one of those times. "I'm with Di. It was listening to your questions at the start," he says with a glance to King, "Maybe you should take the lead there. Maybe it just likes you. You're likeable." His other hand reaches over to snag a pretzel.

Jack jumps trying to evade a half of his drink and ice cubes. "This is seven dollars, c'mon man." He reaches out to both put a hand on the back of the booth and take the wad of napkins from King with a murmured, "Merci." He's trying not to kick Trace or Wes' legs under the table or knock Di over at least. Unapologetic he dabs at his pants thankful for the dark jeans today.

There's a lot of bitching in French there. "King maybe you ask who lost this thing to have a clue." He's in agreement with Wes and Di on that so he can complain and King can ask.

King takes a breath and nods at that. Though she's down fourish shots now, having hit one (or two) before this whole thing even started. She had a day off, y'know. "Alright," she says, taking her fingers off the planchette for a moment. She says to the table, "So Jack can see ghosts, but doesn't see any ghosts right now, right? Is what I'm getting. But someone is talking to us, so. We recoup, we slow down, and tequila on." In a crisis, or tequila situation, King calms down after the initial wtf wtf. "Ok, we'll see if I get splash damage..." She glances from Trace to Wes. "Here goes."

"Spirit, what is your name?"

Diana's brow furrows and she quickly attempts to follow along. Was that an A? An F? She looks around the table. She caught nothing. "More than one spirit, perhaps?" She's asking the group, not the spirit, and glances up at the dark light as if to say so.

Jack continues his discontent in French which Diana will no doubt have to endure and Trace may catch some of by virtue of the words sharing a bit of vocabulary. "This is ridiculous I'm being forced to do body shots and am not even getting tipped. This is a waste of bourbon. It does not do this in our bar." he pauses and, he feels a little better. Maybe. There's a murmur to Diana thanking her to move so he can mop up the seat leaving him finding a different place for the sopping pile of napkins. The stray ice cube gets nudged further back into the booth.

When he is dry-ish, or at least his hands are, they return to the planchette.

Trace squints just a little bit as King asks her question and then the planchette goes flying around the board, eyes widening just a little bit. "Yikes. I'm not even going to try to pronounce whatever that just was." He vaguely says into the air, "Nice to meet you.. entity with the very long name." Listen, he's a scientist not an occultist. He is very, very out of his element right now. Diana's suggestion meets with a faint nod. "Maybe? Maybe that was a lot of names all at once."

"Uh..." King watches the zoom and hrms. She echoes Trace, who seems to have the right idea in just going with it. "Nice to meet you." Fake it till you make it. She resettles her fingers on the planchette. "Spirit, is what we need to find on one of the islands?" Maybe yes-no questions are better.

She glances up and just barely resists making a comment about the body shots. She's trying not to get a drink dumped in her lap now.

"Maybe we should ask about the whole... 'lost' thing next," is Wesley's suggestion after the plachette stops zipping around the board, his eyes a bit wide at that whole show that just happened. He slants a look beside him to King, then to everyone else with a 'this is getting too real' sort of expression.

Di pat's Jack's leg under the table. "We will get you another drink," she tells him in English. "Don't mutter in French. It's rude when no one else can understand how ridiculous you're being." In the meantime, she slides a shot in his direction.

"Maybe figure out its preference for questions first, then how to ask about the lost thing," Di says, her words slightly slurred now that she's finished the majority of her second cocktail and a shot. "Who knew ghosts were so particular?"

"Well, nothing's exploded yet.. so.. good sign?" Don't jinx it, Trace. He takes another long swallow from his bottle. He's definitely downing that beer quite a bit faster now than he was at the start of the evening. He even reaches over and takes one of the shots available on the table. Is it his shot? Doesn't matter. He's doing it. He'll pay for it. They can order more.

Jack looks to Diana and then squints a look at her so hard shaking his head. "Trace, you telling me nothing but the filament has gone up does make me feel better." There's a faint bit of relief. Jack's proverbial feathers might be a little ruffled. King, please maybe find out what happens when that thing is found? Does everything break because I like regular employment and do not yet make enough to cover breaking the park with tips."

As the planchette moves, Di braces. But thankfully, this time, the spirit(s) is cordial. "Not on the island," she repeats, just in case anyone got lost in the game of who's on first.

She nods at Trace. "I think so," she says hesitantly. Di takes her finger off the piece. "Maybe before we throw in more questions about what happens... we should narrow in on priorities? Maybe where it is or what? We don't know how long this spirit is going to stick around."

Wesley starts to say something, then stops himself with a momentarily nervous glance up at the dull lightbulb above. Okay, that was close. He clears his throat a bit, leaning in towards King and suggesting quietly, "It could be in the -water- maybe? That big blue ball wasn't on the islands, technically speaking, and who-what-ever this is seems to be real, real specific."

King squints at the 'no'. Not on one of the islands. Her eyes study the no and she writes that down on her paper. Ok, need to find an item not on the islands. She nods to Trace and says, "Yeah, at least there wasn't lightbulb shrapnel." Don't double jinx it, King! "Okay..." She glances from Di to Wes and then Jack. Next logical question is about the water, though she hesitates, because nobody at this table probably wants to get soggy. And Diana's input then has her chewing her bottom lip. Ok. Hm. "Ok. Spirit, is it in the water near the islands?" Her next question, of course, is more in line with Jack's query. But she waits on an answer to the other before asking.

Trace smiles a little wryly over at Jack and he gives him a thumbs-up. There's a motion over toward their server or bartender or whoever is bringing them drinks that they need another round and that he's got it. Because this may require some more drinking at this point. He watches as the planchette slides on over to Yes and he nods slowly. "Well, that's in line with what I've been figuring out. I've been going out and trying to map the edges of the magic using a boat and some testing. Fin's been going with me. And we've been plotting the edge of the boundary of magic out in the water. There's a lot of water within the magic bubble."

Soggy Bettys it is on this treasure hunt. Luckily there are plenty of mermaids and pirate types to bribe for frigid Lake Michigan seafaring. She looks over at Trace when he talks about his mapping on a boat. She nods at that and says, "Oh, very cool. Teamwork at its finest." King's on the NOT IT team when it comes to a fetch in all that. Unless someone needs medical help. There's a bit of a smile there, but she has to ask another question. "Spirit," King asks, one eye closing, "Is this item dangerous to us?" She squints at the planchette like she halfway expects disaster.

"I'm a little worried that I keep being right about things," Wesley mutters as the plachette answers 'yes' regarding the waters, his brow furrowing a little-- and then King asks that question, and he slants her a sharp look. He hadn't even thought of that. His gaze turns back to the board, and he's all but holding his breath.

Di feels every second that passes after that question is asked. "Yeah, Wes. Maybe you should just stop talking," she teases, then turns back to the game piece. It was taking so long. Was it thinking?

Jack leans closer to the board, he should not, but safety and inconvenience are big concerns. Looking to Trace he says "You ever need another swimmer I might have some time free. If this thing is going to kill us I am conveniently unavailable and good luck." Jack's not here to be brave he's here to be nosy and remain in one piece. "If happens, Wes, maybe you should move from Dragon to fortune teller."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Trace asks King and then glances over at the others. Jack gets a shake of his head, "We're not swimming. We're taking a boat, and seeing where the telepathy stops working and plotting it on a map. If you want to grab a boat and help gather data points, I'm happy to have more help with that."

Di's eyes narrow. "I'm not sure," she glances around at the table. "That is... very sciencey," which is a compliment? It sounds like one. "I know that girl that works with the fish in the aquarium has been taking samples of the animals in our tanks and in the lake... maybe she could help?" Diana wouldn't volunteer, but volunteer someone else? Sure. "The blonde perky one."

She looks back at the board. "Would it be ok to ask if anyone has seen the item? Maybe in one of the shared dreams?" Her voice waivers slightly. "I'd had a nightmare not long ago and... I just wonder."

"I'm happier with dragon," quips Wesley at Jack's comment, "I have to talk to tourists less. And you know damn well I never shut up, Di--"

Except when he's eating pretzels, which he reaches over for one. He glances to Di, nodding a little, "Someone else had a vision about a steampunk machine thing, and some tunnels, there's definitely some shit going on there."

"Okay, that's not ominous at all." King doesn't know what that means, because her usual mode of divination is not a spirit board. "So I don't know or I'm not telling or depends..." The urge to crack her knuckles is overwhelming. King removes her fingers from the planchette, and does one hand, then the other, wiggling her fingers under the table. Maybe she's a tiny bit nervous about this whole thing now. But! "In for a penny," she murmurs under her breath. "Anyone else got a yes no? Maybe..." And then a mutter of, "I'm definitely not swimming..."

She pauses. "Ok, Spirit. Which island is it closest to?" She pulls a crinkled brochure out of her back pocket, one with a little bitty map on the back. She puts that down on the table. She looks up when Diana mentions a nightmare, one hand resting on the map, fingertips of the other back on the planchette. She glances from Wes to Diana. This is so very complicated, and they really don't know when the answers will stop, if they already have—

Jack offers to Trace, "Could do that to. I won't get into it but I have been known to be aquatic.' He has not and no one has called him this. He looks to the planchette tilting his head. "Well that's not a yes. Maybe they do not know. We don't even know if they are human to know. Maybe they can tell us what happens?"

A frown is passed to Diana when she mentions the nightmares. he admits, "A couple people say things on the employee web. Nothing in my apartment. Just occasional ghosts. Trying to see if they know anything but so far, no."

Di laughs and smiles over at Di. "Even I've grown to like the dragon suit. It means you're quiet for 20 minutes," or as long as his dragon suit shifts are. "It's blissful." She teases and then looks back at the board. She rapidly attempts to repeat the letters in order, but it's gibberish. "Seriously? How about some coordinates?" She sassess toward the heavens. "Something we can work with?"

"Is that, like, indigenous or something? Maybe the original names of the islands?" Wes isn't asking the board, but the others, looking around the table with a frown. "I don't know how to phrase it, if it doesn't know the current names of the islands..."

King faithfully transcribes what she can. Will it make sense? No. Not at present, anyway. She looks from her paper to the board. "Spirit," She takes a pencil and marks out the islands, scratching letters onto them. ABCDEF each corresponding to a different island. "Can you tell us which letter it's nearest?" Can the spirit board see the island? King hasn't get figured out it's the divination functioning for her when she asks. If it matters she can see it, or if it can say at all.

"Smart," Trace says when King manages to get a response that corresponds to the map. He glances up as the next round of drinks arrives on the table and he reaches for another beer with his free hand, leaving his fingers on that planchette but definitely taking another long drink from his bottle. Jack gets a faint squint, "Okay. Well, if you want to help, help is good." He then also nods to Diana and says, "Cool. I'll have to reach out and see what she's found out."

Spellbound island. Di falls silent for a moment, the individual clues of the night clicking into place. "If it's dangerous, this is the most populous island at any given time," Di notes.

"So we have where," kind of. "Now it's a matter of what..."

"Oh, shit, super smart," Wesley agrees as she writes out the islands, his chin dipping in a slow nod. He motions to the paper, suggesting to King, "Maybe-- ask if it it's north, south, east, west? Get a direction at the very least. Since it's closest to Spellbound, we could work out a rough location that way, maybe."

Jack promises Trace, "Can elaborate later. Yes, I am willing to help you." Looking impressed by the approach and answer King got he looks to Wes and asks King, "Can you put n-e-w-s and then SW and what around it? This is a good point." Curious he asks Di, "Do we know how to read coordinates?" He is uncertain but wonders, "You know this spirt jsut spilled seven dollars on us." him, "do we know if this is something we should be doing yet?"

King laughs softly and says to Trace, "Rare sparks of lowfi brilliance," putting her pencil down. "Ok. Item in the water nearest Spellbound, no answer on if it's dangerous to us." Mysteries a plenty left to answer there. She takes her hand off the planchette again briefly and looks to her fellow spirit boarders around the table. "Oh, good call guys. I can." She marks up her map around Spellbound. "Spirit, can you tell us... North, South," She taps the marks, "East, or West of Spellbound?"

"Southwest." Wesley nods slowly as he watches the planchette move, restraining his excitement, "Alright. Alright, that gives us a general vicinity of... whatever this is. Whatever was lost, or... whatever it is." An idea strikes, and his fingers tap the pretzel he's holding against the table lightly before he looks to King, "...should we ask if this thing's responsible for the magic?"

Silent for a time as to not interrupt jack looks again up and around to see if he can see really anything. He doesn't hide the faintly weirded out expression. He admits, however, "I am liking this better than the throwing of the ice cubes." he looks to Wes and then to King, "Maybe how big is what we are looking for? This a ring, a propane tank, a cave, Atlantis? Scale might be helpful."

Diana is also happy to take a backseat. They'd at least figured out how to communicate with the thing. She was also in awe of King for leading them through with clever thinking, even with all those shots in her system. Di reaches for a pretzel, eyes moving around the table. "Yeah, and less wet," she adds. "That could be helpful when trying to locate it. If it's small, that's a very different task than finding something elephant-sized."

Trace nods slowly in agreement with Jack. Not throwing things is good. He takes another swallow from the bottle and then finally sets it down, confident for the moment that this one isn't going to end up in his lap. "Yeah, that's why we were hoping to kind of pinpoint a center, see if at least having that as a starting point might help but.. still no idea of the scale of what we're looking for."

King drums her nails on the map, ticking against the hard table. "Yeah, can do. See if this thing has any juice left in it," she says to Wes. Her fingertips touch the planchette. "Spirit, is this... lost item responsible for our magic?" She nods when Di and Jack both suggest finding out how big it is, and that'll be next if it remains amenable.

She waits a beat, then asks, "Is it smaller than a bread box?" It's the first measurement that springs to mind. At least she didn't say case of beer.

Wes reaches over with his pretzel to gesture at the paper where King had drawn up the rough map of the islands. "If it's southwest of Spellbound, then it's... between there, and Moonrise Island, closer to Spellbound. That's still a big area but it's doable, especially if we have some people whose magic lets them go underwater, or talk to fish or something, but we still don't know what we're looking for."

Then the important questions are asked, and his gaze snaps to the board, the planchette. Is this is? The revelation they'd been waiting for?

Yes.

"Holy shit," he breathes out, wide eyed as he looks around the group.

Jac sits for a while and finally asks, "Okay what the hell is a breadbox?" he needs a bit of catch up on that one though he does say, "That is a soggy loaf of bread. Also what the hell was talking to us? This is-" He pauses and says too soberly, "well this is new. Everyone okay? King your fingers are attached?"

Di stares at the board for a long moment before looking at the others. They may not have had all of their questions answered, but the final answer was chilling and one unanswered question that felt like a looming inevitability.

"It's responsible for our magic, and we still don't know if it's dangerous," she restates. "I know that spirit wants us to find this object, but I'm not convinced we should. I don't want to lose my magic and I sure as hell don't want to die trying to recover this thing." Not that it'd be her doing the recovering, but still!

Trace lets his fingers slip from the board once it hits goodbye and just slumps back in his seat, staring at it for a good long time. "So.. chances are that was just something fucking with us?" he asks the group as a whole now that it seems to be 'over', whatever it was. "Or someone?" He glances slowly around the room at the other tables then, "Some weird TK prank?" Then back to Jack. "You see ghosts but you said there were no ghosts. What else could it be? Do not say demons."

King just stares at the planchette. She takes her hand off of it when it moves to Goodbye. "A breadbox is about... yay big." King says, indicating, with her hands, something about 16x9 inches. "Fits a loaf or two of bread, helps it keep from goin' stale. You know, if you make it fresh instead of putting in preservatives like grocery store bread has." Maybe she was the only one who grew up with one on the counter here.

"I figure that's a question for when and if we find it, maybe the type you gotta live through to see it clear." Which is not all that heartening at all, but they do have more answers than they started with. S'good. Right? "I don't know. Above my pay grade." As to whether they should remove it from the waters if they do find it? Well, she may be named King, but this girlie is making none of those decisions. "Don't know what that was, but I will say my divination tends to be on the money more often than it isn't. S'just usually with cards and bones."

Jack is still looking around and with a shake of his head he looks to Trace still too sober for all of this but here they are. "I will tell you I do not think it was ever human. It felt, I dunno, how I might say a force of nature if it had opinions. There was a consciousness but not a form and maybe we cannot see what does not exist? Like you rent a movie and there is nothing to touch, it is just data, but you can hear it and it is taking up a lot of bandwidth." This is maybe the best way he has to explain it. "It didn't feel specifically malignant, just not human." he pauses, "To the best of my limited knowledge."

Di nods. It was above their pay grade. She pops a pretzel in her mouth and then washes it down with some water. "Maybe you should try another reading," Di suggests. "See if anything has changed since meeting..." They definitely didn't have a name. "Casper," she lands on.

"It felt more alien than anything," Di muses. "Maybe that was why you couldn't see it?" She might be starting to believe that theory.

"More things under Heaven and Earth," Wesley comments to Trace and Jack's words, his fingers sliding away from the planchette as he drops back as well-- and reaches out for his beer. He needs a bit more liquid courage right now. He gives his whole body a bit of a shiver-shake to push off any lingering heebie-jeebies, "And I want answers, Di, I'm not willing to just let this sit. Things are accelerating. There's more magic every day, there's more weird shit happening every day--"

He shifts, reaching down and pulling-- a giant lizard tail??-- up from the booth beside him, "I've got a tail for fuck's sake."

Trace falls quiet, just fiddling with the label on his beer as he mulls all of this over. "We're going to go out and take a look in the water," he tells those gathered. "In a couple of nights. I'll let you guys know if we end up finding anything. There's no guarantee we're even going to see anything. We have no idea what we're looking for but..." He gestures toward what King has written out. "I guess we can at least take a look and see if there is anything to see."

King's green-eyed gaze turns to Jack, and the hand digging in one of the snack bowls for a pretzel stills at that part where he says he doesn't think it was ever human, whatever spoke to them. She rolls her shoulders slowly, then retrieves her handful of pretzels back to her side of the table. She listens to the hypotheses around the table and crunches through a couple snacks. Her gaze slides from Jack to Diana to Wesley.

And when he pulls up a tail, she coughs on a pretzel. Situational awareness failure. King didn't notice that before. How... did she miss... a whole tail.

A quick shot to wash down pretzel dust follows, one of the few left on the table at this point. Her eyes water a little, and she wipes them, then looks to Trace. "Yeah, better to know where it is than not. Better to ask some questions, I think, than leave it be. Alright. Good to know it's gonna help somebody, what we did." She looks down at the spirit board. "I really didn't expect that to work." And then she glances around to see if anybody's watching them.

Diana's mouth falls open when Wes pulls out a tail. "Was that... always there?" She asks him. She would have noticed that the last time Wes was at her apartment. Had she drunk that much tequila? '

"Yeah, it ended up being the most practical secret Santa gift, King," Di chuckles and rakes her fingers through her dark hair, settling back into the booth. Di's icy gaze drifts past King to the other patrons. If anyone had noticed, they were doing a good job of hiding it.

Jack nods to Trace and says "Be careful out there. If you see any misplaced water creatures try not to hit with the boat. If it's a walleye or a perch bring that shit back. We'll grill it." His replacement drink that he will not end up wearing seems to pacify him.

He takes a long drink of it when Wes pulls out the tail. Jack looks at him, the glass, Wes, the glass again and drinks the rest. "They bring us the top shelf. Nice. Thank you for doing that night nest to my apartment." He points with the glass in hand. "Wes, that is a hell of a thing to wake up with. You good?" He didn't open the night by running into teh room screaming at least.

Trace looks over and suddenly notices the tail as well and goes, "Oh, wow," both brows shooting up a bit. He pushes one of the shot glasses a little closer to Wes. It could be in congratulations, condolences, or just for medicative purposes. One isn't always certain how others feel about their own changes. "I got a tattoo.."

King seems satisfied no one's watching them too close. She leans on the table and considers the board, then looks to Diana with a smile in her voice when she says, "Who knew?" Spirit board and practical don't really seem to go together. And yet. "Walleye is the tits," King says to Jack, seconding that. Not that she expects the mission to produce dinner and an artifact or ancient jar of weirdness of whatever it is they're seeking. "Should I be checking myself for changes...?" She maybe had a few too many shots for that, because she starts feeling her torso and progressing down, though one lean a little too far almost lists her right out of her seat. Lost track of shots there during the hubbub. Oops.

Diana snorts a laugh at Jack's joke because, really, what was this night? She was feeling the effects of the alcohol now in full. "What is Walleye? Is that a fish?" She really had no idea.

"Let's see the tattoo," she says to trace, but she's also listening to King and nods. "You probably should. A lot of people have had physical changes since New Year's. Some guy has gills on his ribs, I know someone with elf ears... it's wild."

Wes gives Di a long look that just says 'are you serious' before letting it fall down again, "Yes, of course it's always-- no, Di, this is new which is my point. This magic stuff is expanding and I'd rather find out what's going on before, I don't know, I turn into a goblin or a lizardman or something."

At Trace's words, he looks over, eyebrows raising a little. "If you've already got a group going, good, we can keep on top of this. Hopefully this can help you get a little better location now-- let us know what you find, a'ight? Let's all keep each other in the loop."

"Yeah. I'm fine. I got a tail. Totally fine." Mostly fine. Now. The panic is over.

Trace hides the almost-laugh behind the bottle of beer he takes a sip from when Diana asks if the tail's always been there and Wes has to exasperatedly point out that it was indeed not. He clears his throat just a little bit and says a little more soberly, "Yes. I think figuring that out is probably a good idea." Though when Diana asks if she can see the tattoo, he twists around in the booth so his back is to her and tugs down the back of his shirt so that the tattoo on the back of his neck that disappears down into his collar can be seen. "Yeah, a lot of people are getting them. I know a couple of people who glow and one who sheds pixie dust and is perma-glittered."

Jack promises Diana to back King's statement, "Very good quality local catch, yes. Quite titty." He might be missing the trajectory of King's phrasing but he's onboard. Setting the glass down he asks Trace, "Someplace you can show us because if not- okay I won't make that joke today. can we see it?" He doesn't offer up anything about himself one way or the other, and there may not be anything yet to tell; or he is being Jack and obtuse about it.

Looking back to Wes he offers, "Looks neat. Gives you good swagger when you walk." Some encouragement for non-choice changes there. Looking back to Trace he says, "You should put that on your business cards. Looks good."

King pulls the shirt of her top out and glances down, then lets it go. "So far so good," she says, cheerfully. To all outward appearances, insofar as anyone can see with her amount of clothing on, she still looks the same as she did before New Years. She reaches up to poke her neck, nope, no gills there either. No elf ears. She would have noticed a tail on her own body. "Permaglittered? Where have I been?" She has seen none of these in person yet. Except the tail.

And then she's laughing at Jack saying 'quite titty', and with that King's absolutely toasted for the night. The sheets are three. She's tonight's tipsy sailor. "Beautiful ink on a handsome sailor." Maybe she's just tipsy. "I'd raise a glass, but if I don't stop drinking, I'm gonna be crawling in zigzags back to my suite. Be real embarrassing if security had to escort me home." Especially since one of her roomies is security.

Di clearly hadn't that about it spreading past a couple of accessories. "We won't let you turn into a goblin. Has anyone tried going to the mainland and seeing if the," she searched for the right word. Adaptations? Modifications? "Surprise parts, are still there?" She wasn't great at this tonight but she was trying.

'Sorry,' Di mouths at Wes the next time they make eye contact because she doesn't think she really helped.

She is happy to be distracted by Trace's tattoo. "Wow, that's gorgeous," she says. "I love tattoos but am too chicken to get any."

"Me'n Angelo are gonna hop a ferry soon and try that," Wesley says with a slight, dismissive motion of a hand at Diana's mouthed apology, one shoulder coming up in a shrug. Then Trace is showing off his magic tattoo, and he leans forward, craning his neck to get a good look.

"Huh. That's..." His brow furrows slightly body, leaning back with a deepening frown, "That's... uh. Bad? Potentially. I mean, it looks cool, fun tattoo, but that's-- a random biological change is one thing but a mark like that that isn't just random squiggles suggests forethought, like, that some intelligence did this."

"I mean, I don't think it's bad. I think it has to do with our magic," Trace says, though he doesn't really go into detail as to what that is. "Either way, let us know how that works out? The experiment with Angelo?" Then he's fishing out his wallet to pay his portion of the tab. "I need to head back, but.. this was.. wild. Thanks for inviting me along on the ride. And I will keep everyone posted if I find anything out when we go poking about on the boat."

"It doesn't hurt as much as you think it will," King says to Diana, then levers herself carefully from her chair. "I..." She squints. "If you don't hear from me again in ten minutes, send a rescue party." And then she shuffles off toward the ladies room. "Gotta tinkle!" It's obvious when she uses phrases such as this that she's definitely Southern and very probably gonna have a hangover tomorrow. Might be that part of the conversation Wes mentions she is not ready for. And then the paramedic disappears through a door, her note about all they discovered tonight neatly written on the tabletop, right atop a brochure of the park with faint pencil letters scribbled over the Spellbound islands.