9732/Of Blades and Blood

Of Blades and Blood
Date of Scene:	23 October 2019
Location:	Russell Nash Antiques, Yonkers
Synopsis:	Morrigan takes a blade with some weird vibes on it to Connor for him to check out.
Cast of Characters:	Morrigan MacIntyre, Connor Macleod

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Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Yonkers? No one really wanted to go to Yonkers. Especially with it being a rainy day.

Except for one Morrigan MacIntyre. She'd been looking for antiques dealers for a few days and for some reason, Russel Nash Antiques stood out. Maybe she just had weird feelings while she was learning more magic, who knew? She parks her care down the street and carefully brings a bag with her as she heads for the shop in a bit of a hurry so she doesn't get rained on much. The red head opens the door and there's a bit of a look around as she stops on the other side of it. She didn't know what to expect really.

Connor Macleod has posed:
Now this was a rare event. The bell chime - just above the door - sounds, and the dusty, oily, old "book smelly" antiques shop had its first guest in a fortnight. A young, blonde woman was at the front counter. Her eyes look over at Mo for a moment, and then she taps a button on the counter.

"We have a guest, Connor."

The voice that responds back over the intercomm was youngish sounding, but the accent was strange...almost British/Scottish/French/Other all rolled into one. "Thank you Rylea. I'll be right there."

Rylea smiles, a radiant smile, and says, "Can I help you, ma'am?" Now her voice was unmistakably Scottish. She couldn't have been much past 22 years old, with deep blue eyes and long blonde hair. She was wearing the latest fashions, a red skirt, blue top, and orange-red Christian Louboutin shoes.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a curious quirk of an eyebrow at the voice, but she can't really say much about accents. When Rylea greets her there's a smile to her, "Hello, I was pointed here as I hear you all might have a good handle on old blades?" she offers, her Irish accent sticks out. Hopefully they wouldn't kick her out over it.

"I'm usually not one to go on wild goose chases, but wanted to see if this could be looked at and see if anyone knows where it might be from." she admits as she lifts the bag that contains the thing that needs looking at. "I wasn't sure if it was appointment only or not. If it is I can come back another day." she offers.

Connor Macleod has posed:
"Oh yes, a' course! Mr. Macleod is an expert at old blades! Ah'm sure he will see you. He's...been busy lately, but ah'm sure he would be happy to look at an old blade." Rylea takes a moment to look at the woman, then her gaze goes to the bag. "He'll be down in a few moments. At least...ah think he will. He can be...a bit slow."

Rylea waits for a few moments until her patience wears out, "Um. Can I see what you have? I know, curiousity killed the cat an' all, but ah'm curious?"

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a smile to the woman and there's a moment the accent is soothing. "Macleod, that's a good name." she muses as she looks around. Then there's a look back to Rylea as she asks to see the blade, "Oh of course." she tells her with a bright smile, canines on humans were not normally as pronounced as hers, but here we are.

Morrigan moves to settle the bag on the counter, a few of her fingers are bandaged and she has knicks along the back of her hand. She pulls the bundle from the bag and unfurls it and lays it down for her to look at, it looks like a Scottish Dirk, a pretty old one. But there's engravings and things on the blade.

And dried blood.

Connor Macleod has posed:
"Ooooo...tha' looks familiar. Perhaps Scottish, but see here..." Rylea looks at Mo first, then back at the blade before moving it into the lamp light she turns on. "See here...tha' looks older than any Scottish clan ah kin think o'..."

The door behind Rylea opens, and a man steps out. He was wearing a dark suit coat, midnight black, a light beige shirt, a red tie, and a pair of blue pants with worn out black leather shoes. His reddish-blonde hair was semi-orderly today, a rare treat, and his "scruff" on his face was only two days long. The tie was not tied fully to the top of his shirt, as the top button was undone.

"Welcome to my shop, Ms...?" Connor moves to stand beside Rylea, and looks at her with a smile. "Rylea dear, can you please bring me the appraisal equipment in the back? Thank you." Rylea looks down, not meeting Connor's gaze, and says, in a muffled voice, "Yes Uncle. Ra' away." Rylea then rushes to the back, a bit faster than normal.

"Forgive my niece. She forgets herself sometime. Ach, tha' young." Connor smiles. "Now what have we here?" His eyes scan the sword , and one of his eyebrows goes up into the air, very Spockian. "Fascinating. Where did ya' get this blade?" Strangely enough, he doesn't touch it.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan looks just as happy to have someone that knows what they are looking at, "So it's not entirely Scottish. Hmmm." the violet eyed woman ponders as she is looking at the blade. But when the door opens behind her she looks to Connor. There's a faint twitch of her lips, "Morrigan MacIntyre. Doctor. But Morrigan works fine." she tells the man.

She shakes her head, "No need to apologize." she tells him. "And yes, it's been fascinating to have about. I have a few dirks at home, but they didn't look like this." she admits. "Pulled it out of a body. I'll leave the rest of the gore out of it. But it's not the first time we've found someone near something that has these marks and things. First time a weapon was found." she tells him quietly. Not wanting to alarm the other woman.

Connor Macleod has posed:
"Ah, Doctor. I see." Connor's eyes look at Mo for a moment, and he pauses. "Morrigan. Aye." Connor returns his gaze back to the weapon, and shakes his head. "Strange. It kind of doesn't make sense." Connor picks it up,and tests the sharpness. "Cold to the touch. You say you got it from a body?"

Rylea returns back with a small kit, a glass to look through, and several other items. She stands behind Connor, and doesn't make a sound. "Thank you my dear." Connor says, as he puts the dirk down. "I can see from the outward appearance the Scottish feel to it."

Connor closes his eyes for a moment, remembering. "Something feels older than that." Connor's eyes open. "Perhaps left over from a darker time. Perhaps even Roman. Greek. Or even Spartan. Huh. I have a friend who would love to see this."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"Most things that I'm finding these days don't really make sense, so it's something I'm getting used to." Morrigan chuckles to that. She then looks to Connor as he picks it up, "Yes, I get sent all kinds of weird things at work. The body that was sent to me came with it. Still waiting on a few tests to come back. But wanted to see about learning more about it's origins. The blade that is." she admits.

"Well, if people want to see it and know more about it feel free to send them my way. I can leave you my contact information if that helps." she offers.

Connor Macleod has posed:
Connor's eyes narrow. He looks at the blade once more, and says, "I see. Well. It has a dark design. The blade is ancient. Perhaps older than even the Spartan days. I can tell it is not a blade you want to get stuck in you. It has anti-healing properties. Mystical. I would be careful with it." Connor wipes his hands on a cloth that was under the counter.

"I would guess it is a sacrificial blade. Possibly Greek Mythology or even demonic...or darker. A cult. Might even be local...it is a valuable blade. Not something a cheap gang would have as a knock off. This is the real thing." A pause. "Are you okay?" Was that Connor's sense of heroism coming out for the first time in decades?

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a look to the blade as Connor talks and she fishes out a card and slips it across the counter to him, "I'll try not to cut myself with it then." she admits. "And I'll see about a friend locking it up in a safe place after things are done. I'm guessing that someone is going to be looking for it if it's mystical and can probably bleed someone out quickly.

Then there's a look to him, "Oh I'm fine. I didn't cut myself on this. I've been learning how to sword fight and well...live steel is a bitch." she muses. Then she's bundling the blade back up, "Thank you, Mister Macleod. It was good to talk to you and if you need anything feel free to call. And you can pass the information to your friend." she adds as she makes sure the weapon is back in the bag.

Then the rain starts to pick up, "You two have a good afternoon." the Irish woman states as she hurries out of the store and back to her car.