5566/The Librarian: Is it a Date pt. II - The Idiots.

The Librarian: Is it a Date pt. II - The Idiots.
Date of Scene:	16 October 2018
Location:	Bludhaven
Synopsis:	A mysterious woman imparts knowledge upon Sam and Buffy about what they're looking for to foil the Librarian. Nothing to be worried about there, right? Just some unknown, unnamed woman from some mysterious Order...
Cast of Characters:	Castiel, Sam Winchester, Buffy Summers
Tinyplot:	The Librarian

---

Castiel has posed:
An older woman. Tall. Sturdily built. Possibly of Scandinavian descent - it's hard to tell, she's really quite that old, but she most definitely was a blonde, by colouring.

She stands tall and erect, and fairly eminates power, but that aura slowly dissipates even in the short moments from opening the shed door to the pair laying eyes upon her and ascertaining that other than the spade in her hands, she's quite likely not a threat to the pair.

After checking them out, she grunts again, and nods.

"So you're the idiots who broke the seal."

The air is permeated with that odd mixture of scent: sea water and rotting vegetation. Around the shed door area, are bits of ooze that are slowly solidifying into a dusty moss looking matter that crumbles and breaks when touched. Several of the graves have recently been dug out of. One grave is conspicuously untouched.

Still carrying the shovel within her hands, and clearly not feeling threatened by the pair of Buffy and Sam, the woman turns her back on the two, and begins walking towards the back entrance to the very obviously boarded up church.

"Mind you put the chain and lock back on that door. I'll worry about the mess you made inside later. Be careful not to lock it. It only needs to pass a glance as being shut tight. And once the two of you are done with that, you can join me inside and we three will have a little talk."

She makes her way to the back entrance, and goes down a set of stairs that lead to the basement, the door there also looking to be boarded up and locked, but t her touch, the door swings open easily revealing a corridor of muted light beyond. "Do hurry. I'm an old woman. I haven't time for your dilly dallying."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam when the woman's finished talking Sam looks from her to Buffy. "So, what's the over/under on her being evil?" he asks uncaring of the fact the woman can hear him. He'd seen his share of powerful creatures enought to cover any intimidation he might feel with a healthy coating of humour.

He makes no move to attack though, waiting on Buffy's word before he gets them into any trouble.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"No alarms going off." Buffy doesn't explain what alarms because really, it just wasn't something she wanted to share with a practical stranger. "So I guess we trust her. For now."

With that, she follows the woman out and actually takes a moment to secure the chain back in place as requested. Then she continues to follow to the church, down the stairs. By now, she's frowning a bit.

"I'll dally with my dilly all I want to. Why couldn't you talk to us outside?" she asks.

Castiel has posed:
There may or may not be a dry laugh from the old woman as she merely carries on intot he church, uncaring if she can hear Sam's commentary on the odds of her morality. There will be time enough for him to learn the truth of such things.

When Buffy follows along, and asks, the woman pauses, turning just enough to regard the young Slayer, "My dear, I'm an old woman. Humour me. I have no intentions of standing in a frost bitten graveyard in the middle of the night discussing these matters just because you have a sassy tongue for one your age. You're not the first of your kind I've seen, and I must say, so far, I'm disappointed in you and your friend there. However, your choice. If you want to know what I know, we go inside and enjoy a cup of tea. Or, you can continue to stumble about in the darkness."

She turns away, and begins walking down the corridor further into what should be the church basement.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Unsure if the alarms are metaphorical or not Sam, rolls with things, helping putting the lock back on the shed before wandering towards the church, his hand resting on the pistol at the back of his jeans.

"I'll pass on the tea, but if you want to chat inside, fine by me."

He glances to Buffy for a moment before he walks into the corridor to the basement.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Stumbling around in the dark is part of my skill set," she quips. But then Buffy falls quiet. Which is odd for her. She's usually a chatter box. This entire situation is setting her teeth on edge.

She follows along down the corridor, apparently to have tea with a strange old woman who thought they were idiots.

She wondered if the woman knew Giles. Cause really, it sounded like him.

Castiel has posed:
"If by stumbling in the dark you mean releasing things you shouldn't, then, yes. That does rank in your skill set." The old woman reaches a door - this one she actually pulls out oa key for, fumbling about for the keyhole. "Why I thought this was the better way to do this, I sadly do not know. However, what's done is done. Aha! There."

There's an audible click, and were you to have the magic using sorts in your company, you'd also know that several other things happened at the same time. Alas, you don't. Suffice to say, once the door is opened, it opens into a room that does not seem suited at all to a church basement. A series of rooms, as it happens.

They're old. Mutely lit. The smells aren't just old about the place, but of spices and herbs, and old books. A small, ornate clock sits upon a small mantlepiece over a fireplace, where a low fire still burns.

She wanders into what must be a kitchen, and there are sounds of what must be a kettle being put on, and cups and saucers being gathered.

"Make yourselves comfortable, but be careful what you touch. No, on second thought, don't touch anything."

Sam Winchester has posed:
"So, you know us then?" Sam asks, when the woman says that releasing things that shouldn't was part of their skillset. It was fairly accurate in Sam's case, both where this graveyard was concerned and in general.

When the whole magical secret rooms open up, Sam tenses, no, he can't sense a drop of magic, but well secret rooms and weird ladies seldom lead to something good in his experience.

"So, what's the deal?" he asks. "What is it you want to tell us?"

He definitely careful not to touch anything, in fact, his hands are stuffed in his pockets, mostly to get at the holy water and other toys he's got in there.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"If we don't touch anything, how are we supposed to sit down and get comfortable?" Buffy asks. She remains standing, right hand inside her messenger bag. Her left hand is out in the open where she can use it to block if something comes her way.

Like maybe a flying teacup. Okay, so this woman doesn't seem to be a threat but she knows entirely too much information it seems. "So what's the story? Cause, y'know, we have a lot more things that we need to let loose tonight and time is money."

Castiel has posed:
"Some day, young lady," The old woman says from the kitchen, "You'll be old enough to regret that mouth of yours. For now, though, quit being a smart-mouthed brat and sit yourself down and we'll both pretend we didn't have to exchange these words."

There is some more banging around in the kitchen, and then the thin wail of the tea kettle.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Kind of nice, her thinking you'll be old enough to regret it," Sam observes. As much as he didn't believe in Slayers until earlier that evening, the lore was pretty clear, they didn't have a long shelf life. Nether did Hunters, so who was he to judge.

Then Sam just leans against one of the chairs while he waits for Buffy's reply to that whole, 'smart-mouthed brat' crack.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"And that shows she isn't as smart as she is trying to pretend to be," Buffy murmurs over to Sam in a lower voice. It isn't that she expects not to be heard but she isn't advertising either.

The Lore he knew about the Slayer was true. They didn't live to old age. Most didn't get past their twenties. She knew she had a shelf life.

"I think I'll pass on the tea as well. But once you get yourself all comfy, do come tell us what idiots we are and how bad we've messed things up some more."

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Heh," Sam says with a grin, he looks around the room, hands still very much in his pockets. "Wonder how long she's been living here," he says to Buffy.

Buffy's reply earns a faint snort, then a look over, "Should we sit at least?"

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Wouldn't that be touching something though? Or was that limited to hands only?" Buffy asks as she looks to the available seating. She shrugs finally and moves to sit on the very edge of the couch. She saw Ghostbusters. She isn't trusting furniture in an abandoned church guarded by hordes of undead not to come alive and try to eat her or suck her into some hell dimension.

It wasn't even Thursday after all.

"The fact she wants to have tea makes her suspect. I mean, Giles likes tea. And he's old too. And weird. Just like her."

Castiel has posed:
"Unless you plan on dying before tomorrow morning, young lady," The old woman says as she returns to the main room with a tray. Teapot, three cups and saucers, and a small plate of what looks to be poundcake or some sort of spice loaf all sitting nearly upon it. "You'll most certainly live to be old enough to at least have the possibility to regret things your mouth says. Your life span is not a blank cheque for saying everything that comes to your mind. I'd have thought a filter came with that job of yours."

"As for you, young man," her eyes narrow down on Sam. "I'd have thought you knew better as well. Just what were you two playing at out there? Have you any idea of what you released? Or how difficult it was to imprison him there in the first place?"

She puts the tray down and takes the large wing-backed chair that is so obviously the one she frequents by signs of wear. The other seats in the place are, for lack of a better word, pristine. One might think untouched even.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"No it really doesn't," Sam says. Yeah from his experience hunting or slaying was pretty much filter free. "I mean, my brother Dean? Way worse than her."

"The blue guy with the Gary Oldman dracula hair?" Sam asks about who he released. "Gonna guess pretty hard, but if you can tell me some details I'd be happy to put him down for you. It's sort of what," he begins to say, I, before jerking his head towards Buffy and switching to "we do."

"Right?"

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Yeah, locking things away just means they get loose later and run amok. You blame us for it but it was bound to happen eventually. Some virgin always lights the black flame candle," Buffy points out with a sage nod in the direction of their host.

The filter thing. She's pretty sure she doesn't have one. She didn't have one before she became the Slayer. She certainly didn't bother developing one now.

"Give us some details, tell us what kills it, you won't have to worry about locks and magic chains." Supreme confidence.

Castiel has posed:
One of the woman's brows pointedly arches, "Which of you two were the virgin, then? By all accounts, that candle was burned."

Calmly, as though the other two hadn't declined tea, she pours them each a cup, and one for herself as well.

"What you let loose used to be one of our Order. Father Peitor Halvorson. A good man once. Unfortunately, good deeds are not always rewarded, and foolishness always is. Or punished as the case may be."

She gives Buffy a long look before answering, "So far, we've failed to find a way. All we managed was to bind him."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam points at Buffy, "Yeah, that," he says of what's locked up getting free. He knew that one from personal experience.

The virgin remark, earns a bit of a look from Sam, "Not it," he says holding up his hand.

"Okay, bunch of questions, what order? And what have you tried to kill him with, and here's the big one, what the heck is he? I've been straining my eyes looking at old Norse books trying to figure out what he is, figure that's step one in killing him."

Castiel has posed:
"Your tea will get cold," the woman says calmly, eyes narrowing down over her own as she sips. "Your impatience won't kill him any faster than anything we tried."

She settles back into her seat and considers.

"He is what should not be. Not merely undead, an undead priest. We were taught that the sanctity of faith would save us from such things. That monsters had no souls, or at the very least, that faith burned them."

She shrugs. "And we were wrong. None of the usual holy relics or symbols have worked. He still carries his own. Last I knew, they remain blessed. Apparently the Lord doesn't believe this worth His displeasure." There is some sourness to her tones with that. "Fire doesn't touch him. Salt. Silver. Iron. Beheading. The traditional."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam's eyes narrow. "You seem awfully insistent we drink that tea," he says warily. "What's the deal? New order from Teavana you just can't wait to share?"

Yes Sam, know what Teavana is, don't tell Dean.

"Yeah, the Lord doesn't really like to get off his ass for much these days," Sam says bitterly. "Ask my angel friend, he can go on about it forever." Likely literally. "What about holy smiting? Or dismembering? Can't we I don't know, cut him up and send his parts all over the place. Keep him down that way."

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Is he linked to an object by chance? Maybe we can destroy that. I'm guessing banishing him to hell doesn't work. No offense," Buffy adds to the woman since the guy had been a priest. He just wasn't one now as far as the Slayer was concerned. He had crossed the line to monster territory.

At the comment about the Lord and his angel friend, Sam earns a glance and an arched brow. That sounds like there is a story behind it.

Castiel has posed:
The old woman laughs softly, if bitterly, over her tea.

"We tried. Well, beheading. They were digging the grave for the body, when it turned into mist and disappeared. I'll admit, we didn't think of sending the pieces to separate places, but there likely wouldn't have been time. It took us 50 years to track him down again after that. We learned from that mistake."

Buffy gets a knowing nod.

"Now, see, there's a question. Yes. There are items. But it's a bit complicated. He was buried with one of them for safekeeping. The others we sent away long ago to keep them from ever being used." Of course she doesn't say that since then they'd realized that mistake as well. Times and places always ruled dissemination of information.

"An angel friend? Perhaps that's what we needed. Someone to smite him, though it sounds like the Lord has stopped believing in His faithful." Then she laughs, showing a row of crooked, tea stained teeth. "Teavana? No. Nothing so sinister as corporate America. Just tea. I rarely have guests. It seemed it might be pleasant."7

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam frowns, "Mist huh?" he says as for dividing the pieces, "Hard to do if it's mist, but yeah, I mean I am sure if we asked nice, the Fantastic Four would send some of them into space for us."

He had no clue if they would or not. From his interviews Reed Richards didn't seem the sort of guy who would just accept, we need to send these peices of a guy into space because he's an ancient immortal...

Yeah, new plan.

"Anyhow, so the items, those can take him down?" he asks, carefully not mentioning that he has one of them.

The bit about the angel and Buffy's look gets a mouthed 'later' given to the Slayer then a look for the old lady. "I think the feel's mutual."

The tea? Yeah, still not touching that.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"What sort of items are we looking for and do you have starting points at least for the search? We can get our Google Wizards out there scouring for information," Buffy says. She is well aware their skills are far beyond Google but it sums it up in an easy little bundle.

"We need to get the stuff and at least try it." The tea is getting cold. She's good with that.

Castiel has posed:
"Oh my dear," the woman chuckles. "You can't Google this information. If you could, don't you think we'd have found them already?" She laughs further and sips at her tea. "If only it were that simple. In our wisdom, we placed glamours and wards upon the things and sent them off. There was a chain of people and packages. More than there were items. Each with random destinations, with random destinations included at each point of progress. We truly thought we were clever. A chain of 9 movements where none of the participants kneww what they were transporting or where they were sending them. And then we carefully burned all the information that was left behind."

She shrugs.

"I can, however, tell you what you're looking for. If the things still exist."

The altar cloth she knew existed. As did at least one portion of the book - that she'd been able to track before the trail went cold. The other items had not been so easy to ascertain the existence of. However, she suspected they had protected themselves in hopes of this very point in time.

She'd learned so very much since that first fateful mistake had created what Peitor Halvorsen had become the creature he now was.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam smiles, "I would have been right there with you on that, but you haven't seen how her friend Google's," he says unable not to smile a little wider. "You could say it's magical."

Yeah, he couldn't help it. There's no Dean to rein that sort of thing in.

Sam reaches for a notebook in his bag, he pulls it open and grabs a pen. "Now that's a start. We know about the cloth, what else are we looking for?"

Buffy Summers has posed:
We was used loosely here. This cloth was something mentioned in passing but Buffy didn't consider herself in the know really. She hated a mystery that didn't have things for her to hit. Really, she was rather limited on her skill set and she tended to like utilizing it.

The rest of the gang were there for the figuring stuff out part. Sure, she helped sometimes but it wasn't her forte.

The condescending attitude from the old crazy woman? That was starting to get on her nerves. She just shut up for now, letting Sam handle the questioning.

Castiel has posed:
"Magical?" The woman merely smiles and inclines her head. "If you say." Not believing he means it literally, after all, magic wasn't supposed to work that way.

"You're looking for a blade. An athame. It's old. Almost as old as the book. Forged, the stories say, from the remains of a star that fell from heaven."

She shrugs. "In the old days most anything we couldn't explain could have that said about it. However, in this case, I believe it true. There is that, a brazier. Lore said it had been carried by the Sainted Paul in his journies and gifted to a new believer that he might always carry the spark of Faith with him."

She says that, too, like the years had turned her faith away from such beliefs.

"The altar cloth you may have seen upon him. I doubt you wish to chase that down, but if you find the other items, he will come for them. There are also a pair of candlesticks, said to be used by the one who transcribed the initial spells. Lore will tell you that you are looking for candles. We choose to let that lie carry itself. It was as good as any glamour or ward we could set."

"And after that, all that remains is the book itself. Though it may be broken into its five parts still. We did not believe we would need to track what happened to us, but history tells us that the Book wants to be whole, and with the items. That was one of our initial follies."

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Trust me on that one," Sam says of Willow's Googlemancy.

The items as they're given are written down, "We really need to stop doing that," he says of turning meteors into blades. "Never ends well." He says then carries on down the list "Bowl, check, candlesticks check, the altar cloth," he doesn't write that one down. "And five portions of the book. But if we find one, it'll want to find the rest?"

"Guess it made it too easy to put back together," he says of it being a folly. "So we get all the pieces of the book and the ritual items, we can destroy big blue?" he asks, confirming the gold at the end of this particular rainbow.

Castiel has posed:
"It was never meant to be brought together the way it was," she sighs. "However, those are stories for another day. The thing may be in pieces, or it may be whole. But I believe if you possess one, and know how to, you'll be able to find the other pieces."

The book wasn't precisely sentient, but it did have power to itself, power tht had been known to affect and influence people in the past.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Yeah, magical crap never works the way it should," Sam agrees about the book coming together.

"That'll make things easier," Sam says of the pieces calling to each other. "I've got the altar cloth, so that's one piece down and our map to finding the others."

"Anything else you can tell us?"

He looks to Buffy to see if he's missed anything.

Castiel has posed:
"You have it, do you?" The woman gives a grunt of surprise. "Likely better I don't know where you have it for now. I don't think there's more you need to know at this moment. When you have all the pieces, bring them here."

She leans forward and puts her empty tea cup back upon the tray.

"When you have them, we'll lure him into the crypt. That is where we'll perform the ritual."