Last minute wibbles.

[amityville_sweetheart]

Magical supplies, check. Called Trevor. Have contact information for others. Damn, better check your book and make sure... yep. Done. Okay.

Cats are taken care of, got the hired help to be down in Florida when the van gets to Angela. Hopefully I didn't miss anything. Troia and her friend can make free use of the furniture, but the personals had to go. Not that I wanted them myself, anyway. Better than Angela gets them, I'd burn most of it.

Corrine's running off a mental checklist in her mind. She's always been known as one to worry, and this occasion is no different. Everything had to be perfect. Just right. No room for error.

At least Trevor's done. Wish there could've been a way to do it without telling him, but there wasn't. I need him too much on this.

She rushes past the kitchen counter, suddenly stopping and taking a few steps back to scarf down a forkful of her salad. She made it twenty minutes ago, and it's spent most of the time sitting on the counter untouched. Running around like a chicken with your head cut off isn't going to get anything done. You should stop and eat... yeah, right, should.

Comments

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

*Caleb just stares at her, his piercing gaze intently focused on the spaz before him. He says nothing. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even have an expression on his face. Just the eyes, that seem to see through everything.*

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine just stares back at him, lips folded under. Right. So no cure for cancer.

"Babies!" she suddenly shouts. "I was... um..." She pauses. "I didn't want to tell you, but, um..." The mention of babies always makes men run for the hills. So run with it, girl. And don't fall on your face.

"I..." Her mouth hangs open, waiting for the words. "Was scrying. The future. To see if there were... babies. For us. 'Cause they're cute. And... my clock is ticking?"

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

*Caleb glances at his watch, then returns his gaze to Corrine.*

“Try again.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Oh, boy. What now? She sighs.

"Using blood magic to bind a spell so I can keep the spirit at the house trapped until I can move it along because really y'know that's not safe I mean just speaking mentally if you were stuck being dead in the same place for years you'd be kinda pissed too so really it's a public safety hazard and I'm totally doing the right thing spirits don't belong roaming the mortal plane right so I'm just doing what needs to be done and I haven't slept in three days and I really don't need any shit from you right now about it so save it."

She takes a deep breath. "And I really _have_ had a lot of sugar today, and I could use a strong drink." She opens the door to the apartment. "Scotch?"

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

*Words are not even necessary, as Caleb’s expression conveys his apprehension and disappointment all by itself.* “No scotch for me. Or for you, for that matter.”

*He begins to feel around, trying to find any other mystical surprises that may await him inside.* “Blood magic is dangerous enough without you introducing alcohol into the equation. Besides, there, uh … there is one very easy thing to overlook – in Blood magic, since you and the spell are intrinsically linked, the condition of your spells and your physical condition reflect each other. By drinking and not sleeping, you only reduce the effectiveness of your spells.”

And god help you if a blood magic spell collapses…

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

"Like I said, I really, really don't need you--" She turns back to him, slowly, raising a brow. "Are you-- are you giving me advice?"

Corrine shakes her head as she goes inside. "Unexpected, but... yeah. Thanks, I guess."

There's an overwhelming plethora of scents-- some utterly intoxicating and others that are just strange-- coming from all over the apartment. All the furniture has been moved away from the walls, where runes randomly appear and glow. The cats peek out from their hiding place under the couch, obviously alarmed at the amount of activity. There are vials mixing themselves in mid-air, glasses and bowls with swirling colors set about on every flat surface, and books set about on the floor randomly flipping through pages.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

“Well, I am your arcane tutor, after all.” *Caleb enters the apartment, carefully scrutinizing everything he sees.* “How .. where .. uh …” *A sigh, then in a measured voice.* “Where did you learn blood magic?”