13381/Aftermath and Magic, For The Win

Aftermath and Magic, For The Win
Date of Scene:	26 May 2021
Location:	Giles' Home, Sunnydale
Synopsis:	Giles uses a spell casting to heal Mercy's wrist.
Cast of Characters:	Rupert Giles, Mercy Thompson

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Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles makes it outside just fine. As he walks, he's digging his keys from his pocket. He's moving toward a car and isn't really waiting for anyone to catch up to, or stop, him. He doesn't want to be stopped because stopping might mean saying something unfortunate. And sometimes, such things cannot be taken back once they've been uttered. And Giles doesn't want to say or do anything that he might come to regret in the future.

He isn't even waiting for Mercy, but pauses as he reaches his car. It's red. And obviously a convertable, for the top is very much down. A 1987 BMW convertible. Very, very red. He's sliding into the drivers' seat about the time Mercy comes out of the building behind him. He leans forward and rests his forehead against the steering wheel and waits like that. Keys still held in his right hand. He hasn't even tried to put them into the ignition yet.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Everyone says something unfortunate at some point or another. It's one of those things that happens when emotions tend to run a little hot. She took a moment to toss her empty paper coffee cup into a trash can before stepping outside of the back door. And then, Mercy did what Mercy does often -- she follows her nose. She's had more than one occassion to pick up the scent of him, and the scent of what he'd showered with. Her brown gaze finds him as he's settled in the driver's seat of the convertible.

Mercy can't help it -- she looks over the car. 1987 BMW 325i convertible. From one bumper, to the other bumper, her gaze following the lines of it. It's a pretty car. Henna red. She steps up to the driver's side door and stops there before leaning to rest her left arm on the top edge of the door. She lifts her right hand, to very lightly touch his left shoulder. "Hey, sorry for taking a minute," she says softly, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. Then she moves to step around the front of the car in order to get in on the passenger side.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Either he's decided to count Mercy amongst the list of trusted people, or Giles' emotions and thoughts are all kinds of tangled up. He doesn't even realize she's there, and jumps ever so slightly, just enough for it to be felt, when the ghost chaser touches his shoulder. He lifts his head and turns it to look at her, then lifts his right hand to run his fingers through his hair. Only to stop as his keys smack him straight in the center of his forehead.

There's a soft, rather disgusted, sound from Giles and he drops the keys in his lap before rubbing that spot he'd just smacked. "Viri sánguinum, Deus dampnas infernum," he mutters. He shakes his head and looks up at the woman. "No, it's fine," he says. "I apologize for my abrupt departure." He's still frowning as he retrieves the keys from between his legs where they'd lit on the seat. He sticks them, jabs them, into the ignitian. Really, he's not in a happy mood. But the key gets turned and the car starts and.. purrs like a kitten. He takes a moment to pull his seat belt on and leans his head against the headrest behind him, turned to watch Mercy make her way to, and in, the passenger side.

Translation: Bloody god damn hell.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Being trusted is a thing that Mercy likes, when it happens -- if it happens. It doesn't always happen. Though it would be fair if she was trusted by him, given that she admitted to trusting him, earlier. Her fingers give his shoulder a bit of a squeeze, and there's a smile that touches her lips again. Though she does give a slight wince when the keys smack him in the face, and she doesn't laugh at him. "I've done that before. Among other things that have ended up smacking me in the head," Mercy says softly. A lot of things have hit her in the head. Being a mechanic isn't always predictable or safe.

Once she's in the passenger side and settled to the seat there, she buckles up, and then she raises an eyebrow slightly as she looks to him. She doesn't understand the Latin he said, but it has the sound of Latin. "There's no apology needed, not at all. I understand," she says, giving a small nod to him. "Bayerische Motoren Werke," she says softly, settling her hands in her lap and looking to him. "The engine sounds good, so far," she adds, a smile easily coming to her features. She lifts her left hand, bringing it to rest on his right shoulder. "You trust me, right?" she asks, tilting her head a little to one side. It's quite nearly the same question he'd asked her, not all that long ago, perhaps her way of going back to that moment or reminding him of that moment.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles doesn't laugh either. He winces. "Me too. Keys or books, mainly. A mace, once." That had been bad. "And.. there's a thing. Anytime anything goes wrong, I have a tendency to get whacked in the head." He grimaces and rubs his forehead. Clearly, being a .. whatever he is.. also isn't safe. Well. He's a warlock, but she doesn't know that. It had been Latin, right enough, but he doesn't translate. He nods to her use of the German words, names, for BMW. "Indeed," he says, without batting an eye.

When her hand comes to rest on his right shoulder, Giles turns his head to rest his blue eyes on her. He nods once. "Yes, I do," he replies to her question of trusting her. He does. He turns his eyes back to the parkinglot and car, and puts it into gear. It's not an automatic, but a manual transmission. He gently lets the clutch out as he gives it a little gas and pulls out smoothly.

He turns up the street, and further out of the town itself toward the outskirts. It's a ten minute drive, and they wind up in a less populated area. He pulls up to a nice two-story house with a small yard, and he parks the car in the covered awning that's for the car. He turns it off and pulls the keys from the ignition with his right hand as he's unbuckling his belt with his left. "Come on. I want to show you something," he says, getting out of the car. He walks to the door off the side of the open sided 'garage' and unlocks the door before opening it and stepping inside. He holds the door open for Mercy.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Well... keys aren't terrible, at least. Wrenches are worse. I have a bad habit of being under a car and balancing some tool or other up on some part of the car then forgetting it's there until it gets knocked off and hits me," Mercy comments, a mild sort of amusement to her voice. Occupational hazard, it is. She quirks a smile, her brow eyes showing a sparkle to them as she nods to him. "So you either speak German or you've had reason or curiosity enough to look into what BMW stands for," she says, a flicker of curiosity to her voice. "Or both. I'm inclined towards thinking both."

She smiles a bit brighter when he affirms that he trusts her, and then she gives a nod. "Good," she says, her smile easily returning. "Whatever it is that you're planning on showing me, I'll show you something in return. Just, maybe... don't freak out," she adds, a bit of a grin teasing at the corners of her lips. The mischief of the coyote might be finding its way out just now. She lightly pats his shoulder, and then she brings her hand back to her lap, her gaze remaining on him. And while he drives? She listens to the car, to the shifting of the gears and the various workings of it.

She's fairly quiet for the drive, and once he's pulled the car up beneath the awnng, she takes a moment to look towards the house, studying it for a moment. She unbuckles her belt and slips out of it, and then she opens the door to get out of the car, closing it behind her. There's a flicker of curiosity to her eyes as she looks to him, and she gives a nod. "I'm willing to see whatever you're willing to show," she says with a smile. What he shows, what he shares, is up to him. She steps lightly around the car and over to where he's unlocking the door, and when he holds the door open for her, she steps inside after him.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles winces at that imagery. "Wrenches to the face aren't any fun either," he says, his tone knowing. Clearly, been there, done that. He actually relaxes enough to smile at her assessment. "Both. I speak German, and I looked into BMW. Before I bought my first BMW, in fact." He wanted to know more about the cars. He pauses in the doorway and raises a brow at her, then steps on back and out of the way. "I can't promise not to freak out," he says seriously. "But I can promise to do my best not to freak out. And likewise, for you."

He closes the door behind her and locks it before turning to walk through the house. There's a set of stairs that lead up to the next floor, but that's not where he goes. It's to another room. A room with a bare wooden floor. The room is.. well. Pagan is the only word for it. There are many odd things hanging about the room. He walks over to what is obviously a spell book and starts to flip through it until he finds the one he wants. He nods once. "I thought I remembered a healing spell being being in here. Please, sit in the middle of the floor."

He then bustles about the room gathering what he needs for the spell to work. Mostly an object of power, in this case what is quite obviously a wand, and the spell book. He waits a moment, and then starts walking the room in a circle, with the wand pointed at the floor. A glowing line starts to appear where he's pointing the wand. And he appears to be drawing a circle.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"They aren't, no. Although I've kind of started to expect them, now, whenever I'm under a car working," Mercy says. She's kind of used to it, until it happens and startles the crap out of her and then she's not. She tilts her head a bit to one side when he affirms that she was right, and then she gives a nod. "Both felt right. If you ever want to speak German with me, I'm up for it," she offers, a smile tugging her lips. She moves to step past him, into his home, and one of her eyebrows quirks up before she gives a nod. "That's fair. I mean, it's hard to say in advance how you'll react to something when you don't know what the something is. I can promise it's not harmful, though," she says, her brown eyes showing a sparkle to them. Apparently she's not going to just come out and say whatever it is. "Consider the same promised!" she says with a warm smile.

She hears the lock snick closed in the door behind her, and it doesn't seem to bother her at all. She does trust him. She tilts her head a little bit to one side, and after taking a moment to remove her boots near the door, she follows after him. And once in the other room, her gaze flicks over the floor first before lifting to wander over the rest of the room. She seems curious, mostly. There's nary a sign of any freaking out, on her part. Like this isn't the first time that she's seeing such things.

A healing spell? She tilts her head a bit to one side as she watches him, and then she gives a small nod before stepping forward and sitting in the middle of the floor, cross-legged. "I didn't know that you do magic, although... given the shop that you have, it makes an incredible amount of sense," she says, one of her eyebrows quirking up. She rests her hands in her lap, her right hand uppermost. And she watches him, with that nearly ever present curiosity of hers, though she does at least hold her questions so as to not interrupt what he's doing.

Rupert Giles has posed:
"Perhaps... perhaps it would be a better idea to stop proping things where they can fall off..?" That's just logical, Giles. Too many people don't follow logic! He nods about the German, but doesn't speak any further on it. For now. "I can also promise it's not harmful," he says, with a faint smile. Neither is he, until he does. As far as the lock goes... it's not as though she can't unlock it to get out. Nothing about Giles has said he would offer her violence. Then again, the way he'd been going at that punchingbag earlier...

He studies Mercy for a moment, and another of those little smiles appears. "I'm a warlock," he says. It really does make a lot of sense, given his shop! Once she's in the middle and sitting, he closes the circle. And then performs the spell, using the power that resides within the wand, and the knowledge within the book and within himself, and the energy that resides within himself.

Poor Mercy will feel a draining on herself too, and her poor wrist will hurt like nothing else, even when the trap had broken the bones of it. And then, it's over as quickly as it had started. Giles is panting, sweated again, and reaches out with the wand to cut the line of the circle. It dissipates, and he sets the book down. "Are you alright?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"That would make an incredible amount of sense, but then they'd be harder to reach, and... well, I generally work by myself in the shop. Except for when Zee comes around to help some, but he's generally retired," Mercy says, quirking a smile. Logical, of course, but not as easy! Given the right -- or wrong -- circumstances, and either of them could likely fight like some hellcat possessed.

There's a smile that quirks her lips, and a nod at his statement of being a warlock. It makes sense to her. Witches are women who do magic and warlocks are men who do magic. She pays as much attention as what she can to the magic that he does, but in truth... she's distracted by what's happening to her during the process.

Despite what she is, beneath it all, Mercy is not that far off from being human. She has no special endurance against pain or injuries or things of that nature. She can sense the magic that he uses, that he casts upon her. She can feel the energy being drained from her for the purpose of the spell he casts, and she can feel the pain and throbbing within her wrist that hurts worse than when the trap had originally snapped shut on it. Even though she tries not to, that ends up bringing a pained sound from her. And then it's over, the magic worked and the circle broken by him. She looks over to him at the question he asks, and then she goes to give a little nod to him. Except the attempt at nodding is rather proof that she's not entirely alright -- she's wobbly and light-headed, and there's a quiet little sound that comes from her, her eyes fluttering closed as she passes out right there on the floor.

Rupert Giles has posed:
"Better having to go further to reach them than get a concussion," he says. Logic again. Perhaps he expects her to be as tired as he is, for Giles sets both book and wand down and moves immediately to Mercy's side. He stoops down to gather her into his arms before she can do much more than go limp. He straightens with her and carries her out of the room and up the stairs. If she were awake to notice, he feels fairly solid carrying her. To another room, what is obviously a bedroom.

Giles lays her atop the bed and tucks a blanket around her. As she'd already taken her shoes off, he does nothing else. Except to leave the room, closing the door behind him. He makes his way back downstairs, and sits down on the couch, leaning back against it. He's out within seconds of sitting down and leaning back. Still sitting up, soundly asleep.