2012-08-27 Something Vexes Thee

It's all very well to ask for help. Bethany doesn't mind asking. And she's sure that the people she's asking are going to be as forthcoming as they can be... experience says that's not going to be forthcoming enough.

Magic, like any other high value target, is not something one can just puddle around in. Simply asking about it is stepping onto the field of play and Bethany doesn't even know who's on what team. So, after waffling about it, she puts a call in to Drusilla. If anyone's going to survive this info-gathering assignment, it's her. And, Beth figures anything Dru learns along the way will just make her more useful in the long run. She sets the meet for Harry's Hideaway, a painfully wholesome little pub. The chili here is hellaciously good, though. Worth the drive to Westchester.

Ahhh, the spy. They're an unusual breed of persons. Just getting Dru to come out of the woodwork was a small, but frustrating task for team Cabe. Thankfully, spies can be counted on for one thing: Preparation. This means Dru has arrived in Westchester, scoped out the meeting place (and the staff), and left - so she can come back to the area, note the differences, and have escape routes planned.

When it is time for the meet, Dru is punctual *to the second*. Beth's detailwill report the asset on approach - it is only a few seconds more before Dru steps into Harry's for a squinty-eyed look around. Bethany waits patiently, reading her mail while Dru decides whether or not she's going to come sit down. All the assets in Dru's category are the same--the rituals and procedures differ, but all must be observed. Bethany respects that, it keeps them in the game. When Dru comes over for a seat, there's a file folder and a menu on the table across from Bethany. The folder is mostly thin, thicker at the bottom. Mostly because Bethany has jack on what she wants Dru to track down. Money, she has, and money there is in the envelope. Two weeks in advance.

Drusilla will sit at the proffered place and, take up both the menu and the folder - the former is used to veil the latter while the contents of both are perused. The money isn't looked at - it'll be counted later. It's just stuffed down the front of her shirt with all the dexterity a master thief could muster. Watch an eyebrow arch very slowly into a delicate curve. "Chili here is as good as everyone says it is." Bethany selects something on her phone and slides it over for Dru to peruse. What's on it is stills of various magical catastrophes of late. Fire demons. Ghouls. Similar nonsense. "That file is way too thin for my comfort. I've been collecting some basic knowledge of magic, myself, but even friends aren't going to tell me everything I need to know. And I need to know everything."

Drusilla looks down at the phone - and thumbs through a few pictures with the brush of her fingertip. "...So let me get this straight," begins the spy, who looks up and over at Beth as if she just grew another head, "You want me to research mystics. Like, go in undercover. That's a tall order. Why don't you throw in extraterrestrials and ancient gods while you're at it?" oh, if she only knew.. "I've got the ancient gods covered," Bethany says with a wave of her hand. "I don't want you to risk yourself, but I do want to know who's who in New York--to start with--and all the same things you'd expect with any other target. Sources, suppliers, networks, locations. This is a bit more than tracking down an undercover terrorist cell. And a lot of these people are--no sarcasm--probably law-abiding citizens. They just happen to be holding weapons I don't yet understand and that can be used against not just my clients but others in general."

"I really don't like mystics, Cabe." Drusilla looks over the one or two sheets of paper in that folder. "You're aware of my service record. I saw an Arab shaman sic an Ifrit on a Jew as revenge for a murdered son. Living smoke and fire summoned from the blood of a victim of homicide. It wasn't pretty. That report is at Langley somewhere in the bowels of the bureaucracy. See, if they hadn't given orders for us to look out for super powered beings in the region, they probably would have thought me crazy. Ergo, I tended to avoid true magi as much as humanly possible." "I don't like them either, which is the entire point. New York is crawling with them and I have jack-all to use against them," Bethany says evenly. "You're the resource I have that's most likely to get back out if you get in. I'll be straight with you--money's irrelevant here. I want this. Like burning. I'm not going to sleep right until I -understand-. At least find me a place to start. Shops. Meetups. Midnight dance parties. Maybe a few names."

"I don't want to show my hand too far until I know where I'm stepping. And I don't want to upset anyone--I mean that honestly, I do think most of them are either keeping their heads down and just doing their jobs. I respect that. But it's just too damn powerful to ignore." Bethany absent-mindedly picks at a bandage covering a burn on her left hand. Damn demon. She's still mad about losing the old Mossberg she kept in the Bentley. It had sentimental value... as it probably had to the guy she took it off of years ago. Terrible way for a gun to go. "You want support, tell me what you need. I'll be working on my end to pick up a few things to make it easier... detection tools, that kind of thing."

"The problem with magic is that it can't be quantified by reality any more than you could quantify Santa Claus, The Great Pumpkin, and the Easter Bunny." Drusilla contemplates, and finally closes the folder. "I'll reprise my inner Russian Gypsy with a few hat tricks, and see if I can find some real power. You _are_ familiar with how the process of Covert Operations actually works, right? How long it could potentially take?" "I'm planning to be around a long time." Bethany gives Dru a warm smile. "Like they say--what is time to a dragon? I can make like a dragon." Waiting is something Bethany is actually very good at. "I just want to know something's being done. That's all."

"Dragons think like a spy." It's true. The covert operative closes the folder, and passes it back to Cabe under the table. The woman now actually looks at the menu. "By the way, I've met an extraterrestrial. The Daughter of Kree-Captain Mar-Vell. She's here on earth, looking for traces of her father. I bet you could foster that into a working relationship." "Farah's a goddess at getting me footage, thanks. And... an extraterrestrial that's not an Asgardian. Interesting." Bethany looks like a terrier that's just caught scent of a rat. Ears perked, nose going. "Where might I run into this one-woman invasion?"

"...Well, after getting Her Royal Nakedness some clothes and a crash course in Earth Culture, I gave her my cell number /and/ a place to stash her goods/crash. So, I can leave her a note and she'll call." Drusilla smiles grandly. "Her name is Phyla-Vell. She wears like, the Quantum Bands of Captain Marvel. Would you like to leave a message?" "Just let her know I'd like to welcome her to the neighborhood. And that I come in peace." Bethany chuckles softly at that. "I can see why Ling was in such a hurry to get overseas. Far less crazy out there than here. This country is going to make me old."

"They do say that redheads go gray sooner," reminds Drusilla, helpfully. "Ugh. I really dislike this idea of getting in bed with spell slingers, Cabe. I'll have to deal with Harry Pottheads and Twi-Hards just to find the real thing."

"The sooner you get in and out of that bed, the sooner we all have a chance against the bastards." Bethany thinks a moment, then removes something from her shoulder bag. A small thing. Lipstick tube. She passes it to Dru discreetly. "Danger pay--with the confidence you'll get to spend it. Should be more useful than cash if you need to get out of country for any reason. Let me know if you need any other resources. Eye of Newt, that kind of thing."

"...To steal a line from Kevin Costner's 'Robin Hood', 'Something Vexes Thee?'" Drusilla is reading Bethany. There's a lot of sudden urgency here and it all seems to be linked to that bandage - and now that the diamonds come out, it only confirms her suspicion. But Drusilla turns down the ice. "...I don't think you quite understand. If I screw up and end up angering the cult of Cthulhu, I don't think leaving the country would be good enough. Yanno, Magic? The only thing that I know of that can counter magic is more magic." "I'll secure you passage to somewhere else entirely if the planet's not big enough." Bethany sounds completely certain of that. "I've expanded the business... elsewhere. Like I said, I have people teaching me, but I can only know what they let me know. And their magic isn't from here. I'm working on getting my own guns, so to speak, but that just makes me more of a target if I don't know who else is carrying. Right?" She tilts her head, gives Dru a look. For a moment, she actually looks her age... a couple decades too young for what she's taking on... then, it's gone and she's smooth again.

And Drusilla remains nonplussed, like a good little spy. "Magic. I'm pretty sure if there's anything in this world that can kill me permanently, it'll be a spell slinger to do it." Nothing in Drusilla's file said anything about immortality. "Except maybe Vietnamese cuisine. I think I'll have the classic chili and cheese." "A last bite of ordinary magic?" Bethany winks at her and then signals for a server to come over. "I think I'll do the same." She files Drusilla's comment away for later consideration, along with her concerns about sending someone out to do this job. Drusilla didn't say 'no', just that she didn't like it. Sometimes, that's just the way it goes.