4677/New Magic and Old

New Magic and Old
Date of Scene:	17 June 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Constantine pays a visit on Willow, a favour is done and John feels old.
Cast of Characters:	Constantine, Willow Rosenberg

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Constantine has posed:
After the battle with the chaos demon, John Constantine had been scarce around Sunnydale. Mostly taking care of other business, but as he told the Scoobies, he was only a phone call away. Or at least he was when he could find a charger for his cell. The house was a bit dodgy when it came to creating electrical outlets. Though when it came right down to it, John preferred the personal touch, so firing up his old tracking spell he went looking for Willow to invite her to the House personally.

Plus, he wanted to follow up on that favour of his now that he had a little free time.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
In truth, Willow had forgotten all about John's favour after the fight. First there was the adrenaline rush. Then all the catching up on what had gone on (plus some pondering if there was anything else behind all that nonsense!). And making sure Dawn was okay. And applying for courses. And packing. And nervously awaiting the yea or nay about the apartment she and Buffy had applied for. And moving in. And..

Well, you get the picture. Willow was up to her eyeballs in life as every young girl knows it when she begins to spread her wings. That she happened to be a cyber witch with a penchant for potions... well, that was just a bonus.

When John finds her, Willow is trying to open the door to the Hugo building while precariously balancing a bag of groceries - and regretting she'd not asked for two bags. Next time, she told herself. Only next time didn't help *this* time...

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
In truth, Willow had forgotten all about John's favour after the fight. First there was the adrenaline rush. Then all the catching up on what had gone on (plus some pondering if there was anything else behind all that nonsense!). And making sure Dawn was okay. And applying for courses. And packing. And nervously awaiting the yea or nay about the apartment she and Buffy had applied for. And moving in. And..

Well, you get the picture. Willow was up to her eyeballs in life as every young girl knows it when she begins to spread her wings. That she happened to be a cyber witch with a penchant for potions... well, that was just a bonus.

When John finds her, Willow is trying to open the door to the Hugo building while precariously balancing a bag of groceries - and regretting she'd not asked for two bags. Next time, she told herself. Only next time didn't help *this* time...

Constantine has posed:
John banishes the tracking spell when he finds the red-headed witch struggling with the door. He strides across the courtyard, to lend a hand, "Easy there," he says. "Going to get your stuff all over the ground if you keep on like that." He ducks down to take the bag from her.

"Get the door, luv, I'll handle this," he says.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
There's a small flustered, "oh" from Willow, accompanied by a flush across her cheeks. "I can get it by.."

Then she giggles, still flushed and flustering, "Actually, I can't. And watch the one handle is starting to rip. I was hoping I could get upstairs before that happened, but I forgot the doors..

It wasn't so much that the doors were complicated to get into the building, but they were fairly heavy, and when you were already juggling an overflowing, quite possibly about to rip and spill everything everywhere bag..

Willow ducks her head and gets the door, uttering a cheery "After you. And oh! If you don't mind? I mean, if you could help me get them upstairs?"

Constantine has posed:
John takes the bag, shifting it up into his arms when the dodgy handle is pointed out. "Cheers," he says of the warning. Saves him the trouble of picking up eggs and all of that off the ground.

He stands clear of Willow's fluster storm and steps through the door when she has it open. "'course," he says. "Hardly a house call if I don't go all the way to where you live," he remarks, waiting for her just inside the building.

He looks around, everything looks shiny and new and there is still the lingering scent of drywall and paint in the air. "Not bad, this some sort of housing estate? I've never seen a new one before?" It seemed to him, housing estates, or what the Yanks would call projects, would just pop up with two decades of neglect in place, this place, however positively gleamed and felt a good deal more wholesome for it.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow waves at the young man behind the desk in the foyer, and he clearly recognizes her (and if the flush to his cheeks means anything, might have more than a passing interest in her as well, not that she seems to notice...) and waves her along, the girl babbling all the way to the elevator.

"I don't know, actually. It was one of the places student services directed us to apply to. They had way too many first years looking at residence and spaces were on a lottery basis. Plus, did you ever see what residence costs?"

Willow's voice goes up accordingly, as an indication of how shocked she was when she found out.

"The lady said this is a new project. Rent geared to income? And they had a pilot project to help out students. Just a couple. I still can't believe we got it."

Inside the elevator, she presses the button to her floow, and it's a smooth ride up, the doors opening with barely a whoosh of sound, and Willow points down the right. "That way. Right near the end of the hallway. We look out over the park. They have a park here." One can just imagine what this nature loving little pagan thinks of that.

Constantine has posed:
John wanders along behind Willow, caught in the words left in her wake, hearing about every third one as they stumble over each other to get out of her mouth the fastest. The look she gets from the desk guy isn't missed, John grins at the guy encouragingly, mouthing, ~just her uncle~ to let him know he didn't have to worry about an older man if he ever got the courage to speak to Willow.

Upstairs he wanders down the hall bag in hand, "Lucky you then," he says of getting the place. "What with the limited spots and the park view. And never been to college but I hear they fleece you pretty dear to live on campus," he says coming to lean against the wall beside the door.

"So, been keeping up with your practice?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Cue wide eyed sheepishness from Willow. "Oh gosh. I.. that is.."

Instead of answering, she unlocks the door and throws it open wide. "Tada! Uh, don't mind the boxes. And there is a couch."

She gestures him inside, and points him and the groceries at the kitchen. "I just got all tied up with things. And besides, with Giles gone I wasn't sure..."

Constantine has posed:
John smiles at the wide eyed sheepishness, he'd been caught out by more than a couple of the old greybeards that took him under their wings. He doesn't comment though following Willow inside to take a look around the place. Much like the rest of the building there was a wholesomeness to the mess of boxes and bare walls, it felt like the boundless opportunities of youth. He sets down the bag on the counter and goes to quest for the fabled couch, he finds it and after moving a couple of boxes he sits down, putting battered oxfords up on one of the boxes he just moved.

"With Giles gone, there's all the more reason to keep at your studies," he opines glancing back at the kitchen. "If you need a teacher, I can do the job, consider it part in parcel with this Watcher business." There is a faint smile at that, oh, the Masters of the Mystic Arts were going to love that idea.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"It's just I've been so busy," Willow comments, starting to unloard things from the bag into the fridge. John might note there's a whole drawer in the fridge marked: Potions. Do Not Eat or Drink.

"And then with Giles gone I wasn't sure what to do. I mean, okay, I've been trying a few things, but.. wait.." Willow blinks owlishly at John. "Did you just say you'd teach me?"

She made it sound like there was some sort of catch, only she wasn't sure what the catch was. Not only that, there was this vague feeling niggling in the back of her head that said maybe this wasn't a good idea... a niggle that was hushed by the fact that Giles had left John to watch over them, and bound him in some way. How bad could it be, really? Like, how bad?

Constantine has posed:
John does indeed note the drawer, which precipitates him rising from the couch and coming over to have a peek in that drawer, "I can see that," he says of her dabbling. "And sure, why not? For as long as you'd like to learn. Giles has talent, but that thing Eyghon the Sleepwalker put him off learning the deeper stuff," he says. "Don't blame him though, nasty business," he remarks.

If John has any sense of Willow's trepidation, it doesn't show on his face as he closes the potions drawer and looks her way, "So, what do you say?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The contents of the drawer are fairly innocuous right now. What looks to be cammomile tea in a jar. And a handful of chocolate bars.

"I was hiding those from Buffy," Willow says in a small voice.

Thankfully he doesn't seem to want to dwell upon the contents of the drawer too much. "This way there won't be any Dawn accidents?" She squints at John and gives a tiny, apologetic shrug. "And I guess? I mean, you are supposed to help us. And you do know magic." More confidently, "It has to be better than making all the mistakes on my own."

Constantine has posed:
John grins, "No problem, won't say a word," he says of the chocolate and moves back over to the couch to sit.

"You can't do magic with 'I guess'," John says, "Like Yoda says, 'do or do not, there is no try'," he says grandly. "So, how about you think it over, and if you decide you want to give it a try, then you can let me know," he says, without any rancor in his tone. "Though, I'd be right chuffed if you got that information about the bloke who runs the Georgian Creeds."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow hovers at the fridge door, and tilts her head, considering John from that vantage point. "Well, how about if I find you that information you teach me - only nothing..." She's about to say 'nothing that Giles would disapprove of' when it occurs to her she's not going to get another chance to learn all the things Giles doesn't approve of..

"No I guess, I mean. I mean, okay. Like yes.." Willow shuts her mouth. She's babbling, and she knows it.

Constantine has posed:
John gives Willow's answer a nod. "That's more like it," he says with a grin, reaching into his coat pocket to produce his lighter and toy with the lid. His usual habit when he was resisting lighting up a smoke. "And fair deal, find me that info and I can help you with your spell work. You've got talent, shouldn't take much teaching to give your repertoire some umph."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow gives John the evil eye. "You will not light up a cigarette in my house, John Constantine. Not unless you want a pitcher of water dumped over your head. Just you put that lighter away, and never you mind thinking about it or I'm going to forget where I put my laptop until whatever you want that information for is long past being relevant."

Willow, as it happens, is a red head. John might have noticed that.

Constantine has posed:
John had forgotten, well, until this moment. He still smiles though, and makes a show of putting the lighter away slowly. When he's done, he raises his hands, "See, all gone," he says. "Now about that laptop of yours."

"An' guess I don't need to worry about you lacking will when it comes to the finer points of the art," he murmurs.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"It's a filthy disgusting habit," Willow feels obligated to tell John, as though it weren't just that, but a moral failing on his part to boot. "And that goes for when I'm learning. No smoking around me."

Nope. No lack of will when she sets her mind to it, and she's rather like a great mountain of determination on this singular point, it would seem. Looking him dead in the eyes until it seems clear he's got the message, and then, and only then, does she go looking for her laptop.

"Really, you probably could have looked it up on your own, you know," she tells him like she's just had to explain that isn't a cup holder, and did you try turning the computer off and then on again. Only when she starts punching bits into the computer, she sees what he means. Sort of arcane means, there is literally nothing on Georgian Creeds. Like not a mention in a bog post, or any social media feed. No bank records (fine.. she's probably not supposed to do that, but she can and does. Hush). No delivery records. No... nothing.

It's like he's asked her to look for a ghost.

"Oh. I see what you mean."

Constantine has posed:
"I'll keep that in mind," John says about the no smoking rule. The statement lacks for commitment. His fingers fidget without a smoke or a lighter in them.

"Tried that," John says. "And called my mate, Ritchie, who's a wiz at computers himself, said he couldn't find anything about the place. So, naturally figured you might do a sight better than him." Yes, that was absolutely flattery, but in this case it was the honest sort.

"Right? Bloody invisible," he says. "It's exclusive I'm told, rich toffs go there to eat out of sight, so they put a premium on keeping it all hush hush."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Well, she's not a technowitch for nothing.. though it's really an odd area to dabble in in witchcraft. Not many marry the two disciplines.

We just have to employ the right filters," Willow says with a grin. Not a smug grin. A cheery one. Like she's the Miss Molly Sunshine of the craft and she's reassuring John that they'll find his lost puppy, yes they will.. oh yes they will...

It's maybe like hacking? Only.. not really. The keystrokes are one part. But so are the somantic parts. The bits that are Willow herself. Like using witchsight on the thing.

There's dark web. And then there's Willow.

One minute there's nada and bupkus on her screen, and the next, hits start coming. Not unlike watching GPS narrow in on a location.

Constantine has posed:
John wasn't exactly a traditionalist, but he wasn't bleeding edge either, resting somewhere in between, but in between was nowhere near what Willow was doing. John offers his sincerest flattery as he watches, which is that he shuts his gob and just observes.

This was way out of his depth, and by the end of it, he felt a little like an old and beaten 8-track in a world of mp3's or whatever it was computers played these days. Still, despite the niggling feeling of being obsolete, he is impressed, and as the computer homes in, he leans in have a better look.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The laptop blips and beeps, the cursor hovering here and then hopping there on the screen as data starts scrolling by. Most of it nonsense to begin with. Like colours and patterns all over the place. Only they begin to gather with one another. Like attracting like. Sorting themselves until all the bits and colours begin to make patterns - really, those John should be able to read. Some, at least. The arcane ones. Others are purely code driven.

They move lazily over her screen until everything goes black.

Now, one might think that meant something had gone horribly wrong, but for Willow's posture, and the expectant furrow of her brow. Looking at her, something is either *about* to go horribly wrong.. or it's about to go wonderfully right. She leans into her screen the way some people rock their bodies the way they move game controllers - leaning right when they want to go right, and left when they want to go left, only it doesn't matter because it's all buttons, right? Like that, only she's leaning in like leaning in can will it all to go perfectly.

"Come on," she urges. "Come on.." Breath held, until everything explodes back into colour and where there was nothing before, suddenly, there it is, on her screen: Georgian Creeds. Who. Where. What. When. How... all of it.

It's not so much like there was this hidden webpage - no, it's more like she's pulled the information into being. Scried for it and brought it to bear. It just happens to look like a webpage when she's done.

"Haha!" she glees. "Oh, that wasn't so hard."

Constantine has posed:
John watches rapt Willow weaves magic and technology together so nimbly. He could understand the basic principles, the computer was like a scrying mirror, drawing bits from across the web, but the how of it was a still outside his reach. Though when the information appeared, that hardly mattered.

He claps Willow, hard, on the shoulders. "Well done!" he says. "That was truly something to watch," he says, even as he reaches into his pocket for a pencil and notepad, to write down the details. "How'd you do it by-the-by?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow looks pleased with herself, and not just because of the pat upon the shoulders. She's always loved this. The little jolt of power she feels when things come together. And in her technomancy, the feeling is one like no other - possibly because it comes so naturally to her.

Though when John asks her how, all she can do is blink a little. "I don't really know? My fingers do one thing and my brain does another, and it either works or it doesn't." Which, when it comes down to it, is much like any other spell, only hers has a somatic component that plugs into the internet.. and even that is debatable. She'd been thinking about that one more and more these days, that maybe the internet was actually a crutch, limiting her thought processes to too linear a progression of spellwork,, and if she could bypass that..

Flushing, Willow realizes she's gotten lost in thought and forgotten all about her company.

"And that really is that," she finishes like she's given him some grave technical explanation of what she does instead of glossing over it completely with a wave of hand.

Constantine has posed:
John finishes copying down the information, shorthand was a lovely tool in times like this, he flips the notebook closed and puts it away, though the pencil stays out he flips it between his fingers in lieu of his lighter.

The non-explanation of the spell earns a chuckle from the warlock. "Is that it huh?" he asks a smirk playing on his lips. "Insightful," he remarks, teasing.

"Good stuff however you did it, like I said, you've got talent, and unless I miss my guess power too," he opines. "Can't say I can teach you anything like that, but looks like I don't need to, what I can give you is the grand tour, so you know what's out there. That's half the battle anyhow, knowing what could be coming before it does."