nobody knows how i got here [o p e n]

[muskeg]

who: Sage Abernathy and YOU
what: Catch all and such for April
when: April 10th onwards
where: EVERYWHERE.
warnings: Swearing, drinking, mean words, uhhh... violence maybe. IDK. I will update if it changes.



i. the streets of Riverview

Since managing to settle himself down in this place Sage has started to take the time to wander around the streets of Riverview, finding new places to pick up odds and ends, food, ingredients for his potions and experiments, and whatever else might catch his eye. He has acquired a few new rings in his wanderings, a new tarnished earring that he plans on imbuing with a spell, ideas for more that he might be able to sell or give to those who work in the area.

There is no real point to his wanderings today, just idle browsing to see what else might be around. He has a few things in the bag that is strapped to his thigh, some plain silver rings, a bottle of a herb that is supposed to replicate bay leaves in some potions, and a coffee clutched in his hands. At the present moment he is staring, head cocked, at a row of books that he thinks are written in English, but he actually can't tell because he swears the letters are moving... okay, maybe not English.

Feel free to approach the confused looking witch at any time you want.

ii. streets of Riverview two-point-oh.

Eating is not something that Sage is all that good at remembering to do, no matter how much he might set reminders (no he doesn't) or how often there is food available to him (there isn't). There are occasions where he snacks and remembers to at least consume something other than coffee, but today he has actually set out to find something to eat. He has heard whispers in the halls of the research facility of someplace that makes delicious sweets and-- well if he is going to eat, might as well be something that he doesn't need at all.

So there is one curious swamp witch wandering the streets, following his nose more or less, looking for a bakery. Help a witch out?

iii. double bubble toil and trouble-- [ closed to Aeacinos ]

The one thing that Sage has slowly started to learn about this place is that he really, really should not go out into the woods alone. Not that he doesn't still do so, short little trips that don't travel too far beyond the wall, but nothing like he might have taken up if he were at home in his swamp. He has learned that, while home might have wendigos and incubus, shadowy wraiths and redcaps, this moon has things that put those to shame.

So yeah, he has made a few tentative friends along the way, one of the more entertaining ones being Aeacinos. The man (snake? being?) had a personality that Sage found both refreshing and amusing, and also seemed to have little qualms with trekking out into the depths of the wilds in order for the witch to find new ingredients for his potions, and perhaps even happen across a swamp that he could use for his, well, existence.

Today though, they were just out foraging. Sage had a list (with some very detailed pictures) of flora that he was looking for in order to try making some new potions, and he had agreed to meet with the guard in order to head out. Sage meets him at the edge of the wall, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands, dressed a little more suitable for forest adventures than he usually is. Meaning that he isn't wearing leather pants and a jacket, but rather something that looks more like combat attire and combat boots.

"Morning, grabbed you a coffee if you want it. Black." He holds out the cup, small quirk of a smile at the edge of his lips.

iv. get stronger from the blows [ closed to Minsu ]

Since the first explosion of emotion that Minsu managed to elicit from Sage, the witch had half a mind to avoid the hell out of him. Which, honestly, would have been a great idea if it weren't for the fact that Minsu made the best coffee on this damned moon and, well, Sage found him both intrigued and charmed by the other. Not just because he knew that in some future of his the barista managed to love him, flaws and all, but because Minsu seemed to be a genuinely nice person. He was always smiling (even if Sage wasn't so stupid to not be able to see the hurt buried in behind it), and tried to give Sage space even when it was hurting him in some sense.

The witch couldn't help but be more than a little curious about the barista filled with bright smiles and brilliant coffee.

Which is why, when Minsu texted him with offers of a thermos of coffee and a picnic, the witch agreed to meet the other. And not just to grab the food and run (though he would be lying if he said he didn't consider it). Dressed in his usual skinny jeans and leather jacket, Sage heads towards the closed coffee shop, fingers fiddling absently with the new, blank rings that he had picked up in town partially to try and get a feel for what spells would work best with the metal and-- well mostly to give himself something to do with his hands.

The barista wasn't lying when he said he would wave when he caught sight of him. The over-enthusiastic waving makes Sage huff a quiet laugh despite himself as he shoved his hands in his pockets and approaches.

"Mmm, I am not about to forget what you look like any time soon, you know that right?" A small, barely-there smile. "But thanks."

v. all these flashing lights giving rise to shadows [ closed to Magnus Bane ]

As soon as he was told about the warlock and his magical bar by Alec, Sage knew that he had to visit the place. It was a lot more, uh, well put together than the types of places that Sage would usually visit, but that really didn't matter; there was a magical bar. That was something that he would never have come across back home because no matter how well aware people were of magic and witches and mages, they would never allow such an establishment to exist. So Sage puts a little effort into himself (meaning he doesn't smell like mud and ash, woo!) and makes his way to the place with more than a little curiosity in the curve of his lips.

His first impression of the place? Elaborate. Luxurious. Way out of his paygrade to be honest, but he doesn't turn on his heel and head out, rather he heads towards the bar, eyes wide and alert as he makes his way through the bar.

vi. w i l d c a r d

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Comments

[appetitive]

It was early evening when Magnus stepped behind the main bar counter in the Apothecary, intent on restocking some of the on-tap potions before the club filled with a night's worth of patrons. The place wasn't empty, per se, but there were few enough people that a magical presence walking through the club's wards was easily noticed. It was unusual and unfamiliar, a bit muggy where it brushed the edge of various spells Magnus had cast around the space. Such distinct magic had him guessing at its owner even before he saw the head of green hair bobbing towards him in the dim lighting.

"Sage, right?" he said with his eyes downcast as he finished mixing the right ratio of herbs and set it aside. Looking up, his eyes flashed gold as they caught the light of a chandelier above them. He rarely glamoured his eyes in the club—it was his, after all, and intended for it to be a safe space for supernatural beings such as himself—yet it was sometimes still unsettling to see the green-yellow eyes of a cat in the face of a man. "A pleasure to meet you in the flesh. Have a seat!"

[muskeg]

There is a shiver that passes through Sage was he walks in, a tang of unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, magic on the back of his tongue as he makes his way through the club. It was-- comforting in a way to know that there were those here that had the understanding of wards, and good protective ones at that. They were not easy to make and, well, Sage isn't all that surprised that this place is rife with them.

Making his way to the bar, there is a flicker of surprise when he hears his name, only for it to melt into understanding when he sees who is behind the counter. The witch hums and gives a small smile, noting the flask of gold and the pulse of power that seemed to hang around the warlock, sliding into a chair.

"Same, you have a wonderful establishment here. The wards... well they are fucking powerful, I am a little jealous." Impressed more than anything, and it shows with the way some of the edges and tensions bleed from Sage, leaving him looking a little more his age. He leans in, peering at the herbs. "What are you making, if you don't mind me asking? Alec raves about your drinks and potions all the time..."

The comment is absent-minded as he tries to figure out on his own what those herbs might be used for. Which he might have been able to do back at home, but here-- not so much.

[appetitive]

Magnus was pleased to see that Sage didn't seem unsettled by anything—the unfamiliar magic, the cat eyes, the recognition Magnus gave him— and took a step away from the corner of the bar dedicated to potion-making and over towards the alcohol. "Thank you, I do what I can. Most of it still looks the same as it did when it came to me, but I'm planning some redecorating when I have the time." He'd dealt with any eyesores immediately, but the bar was still largely minimalist apart from the ornate bar that brought to mind imagery that matched the establishment's name.

"As for the wards, this is a good taste of what I've set up at the apartment building. Hopefully it's not overwhelming?" As a residency as well as his personal sanctuary with Alec, the apartments were more heavily protected, so it wouldn't be easy for Sage to live there if the bar made him uncomfortable.

Turning to face him, Magnus leaned against the counter while smiling. He'd had an ulterior motive of inviting Sage to the bar, hoping they might get to talk about magic as well as potions. "Well, pleasure first and business after. Do you have a drink of choice, or at least an alcohol preference I can work with?" He could see the interest in Sage's face as he looked over the bowl of semi-crushed ingredients, and he was curious if he'd be able to recognize anything. There was the very real possibility that Magnus' magic was too different from whatever kind Sage brought with him, but it would be interesting to see if there was any overlap.

[muskeg]

Magic, for Sage, is a comfort. It isn't something terrifying or dangerous (though, considering his history maybe he should think that), but rather something that gives you a space that is all your own. A way to exist all your own. Finding a place like this, even if it was on an alien moon, where magic was embraced so openly and so powerfully was something that the witch never thought he would get to experience. He is really enjoying it.

And hey, if one of the most well protected and open places also happened to have alcohol? Well didn't that just work out well for Sage.

"Mmm, redecorating? Not all your choice then?" He casts a look about the place and-- well maybe there seem to be a few edges of discordance between the vibes of the place and the vibes of Magnus, but Sage wasn't about to judge either way. He lived in a house in the middle of the swamp decorated with plants and vines and shards of bone.

The question pulls his attention back and he shakes his head. "No, not even a little. It's-- it's kind of comforting to be honest. Even if it isn't the magic I am used to, reminds me of the swamp."

And he means that in the best way possible okay, in that there is protection and the feeling that someone cares, even if it is an ancient power that demands blood.

"I'm usually a straight whiskey sort, but as long as you don't make it too sweet or add cocount, should be good." There is a curl of his lips, something sharp in his eyes. Sage doesn't drink to enjoy the drink; he drinks to forget and get lost in things that are not his own mind or body. Though that is not at all the plan here (yet, habit may lead to him consuming more than he should really). "I also rather enjoy coffee, if that helps at all."

Lives off coffee really. Unfortunately, he is incredibly typical in that sense.

[appetitive]

Glancing around to follow Sage's wandering eyes, Magnus huffed a laugh and shook his head. "Definitely not ostentatious enough for an establishment run by me," he said with a grin, thinking back to the club he'd owned in New York and the air of warehouse-chic decadence that had hung over the place. "Preparing the apartments has taken the majority of my time and magic lately, though, so this project is next in line."

He hummed, understanding the connection Sage was making between an upscale bar and a mucky swamp; he was far from insulted. "Good, I've been tweaking the usual spells to make sure that unfamiliar magic isn't automatically rejected. I want all sort of supernatural beings from all dimensions to feel comfortable here." The wards were mostly low-level magic that could remain in place without him, reinforced now and then when the energy started to fade. In the event of a true emergency, Magnus would have to step in with the heavy defenses.

Magnus shot him a look before it softened into a smile. It was their first meeting, and he definitely wasn't going to get into the dangers of straight whiskey when it was his drink of choice any time he'd been emotionally compromised. Resisting the urge to project his alcoholism on someone else, he nodded and got to work on preparing a glass while bottles floated off the shelf behind him and onto the bar counter. "Coffee and whiskey go pretty well together, actually. I blame the Irish for discovering that combination. Luckily I'm more of a tea drinker myself, but I know how to make an excellent coffee old fashioned."

[muskeg]

The laugh that answer startles out of Sage is short and bright. Not ostentatious enough, that wasn't really what he was expecting, but at the same time-- it made perfect sense. The witch finds himself smiling a little more freely as he leans his arms across the bar and nods. "Well, I am better with potions and charms than any physical labour but, let me know if you need any help with decorating. Could be fun."

Or a disaster, but who knows?

Though he does hum in agreement about the wards, about being comfortable here, pleased in a quiet way that the warlock wasn't upset with his comparison to the swamp. It was the immersion of the place, the way that magic was everywhere and feeling almost warm in a sense. He felt safe here, accepted. Something that he hadn't felt on this moon except with-- well, Minsu was another thing altogether. And now was not the time.

" It is comfortable, do you utilize the magic here or--" Do you possess a well of magic? There is curiosity there, Sage still trying to figure out how this place worked.

Like now, with the floating bottles and the ease with how Magnus made a drink, it had Sage's eyes shining with curiosity (and perhaps just a little flare of power as he tries reaching out, tried feeling with that raw magic he possessed but so rarely used unchained like this).

"Mmm, the Irish do know how to drink, that much is certain." He pulls his eyes from the drinks and the herbs still laying on the bar, the witch still trying to place them. " I can't say I am much of a tea drinker though unless I am sick. Then again, that is more potion than tea at that point. I want to doubt you but, so far, I have no reason not to think that your old-fashioned coffee won't be amazing."

Don't judge his drink of choice, he is always emotionally compromised okay. Always. Especially here with all the things that keep him off kilter.

"What about you, drink of choice?"

[appetitive]

Sage has just met Magnus, so it makes sense that he would be surprised at someone calling themselves ostentatious. His clothes were a little simple since he hadn't intended on staying at the club long enough to entertain the night crowd; he was wearing a well-fitted suit in dark blue velvet, gold-studded loafers hidden behind the bar but hinted to by his array of gold jewelry around his neck and piercing his ears. He did perk up with the mention of Sage's ability to make potions, even if really he'd offered to help with the interior design rather than serving patrons. "Then your talents as a witch would be squandered on a paint roller."

Mixing the drink for Sage and one for himself, sans coffee, he handed over the tumbler smelling of whiskey and espresso. "A difficult question to answer," he said with a hum, clinking his glass against Sage's and taking a sip. "My magic comes from within me," he answered, purposefully vague because he wasn't about to tell someone who'd mentioned blood magic that Magnus' biology was the cause of his abilities. He can feel the curious brush of power against his own, cool water where Magnus' is warm fire. "I can temporarily draw on outside sources if they aren't too discordant with my own energy. One of my first encounters with Alec, he lent me his strength when my own power was depleted."

Magnus smiled the fond sort of smile that was reserved for Alec or stories about him, hiding it behind the rim of his glass when he realized he looked like a sappy fool. "I have a fondness for vodka martinis," he said, no longer focused much on the topic of alcohol. "So, what kind of potion brewing do you practice?"

[muskeg]

"Dunno, I mean, the potions making does mean that I have a steady hand, and I am great at getting crisp edges while painting." There is a curl of a smile on his lips, something more at ease in his tone. Something about Magnus makes Sage feel at home, makes him feel like he can be as snarky as he wants and as ridiculous as he wants and the other will be okay with it. Maybe it is a bit of an assumption on his part, having only just met the other, but-- Sage's gut didn't usually lead him astray.

Later, when Sage is less absorbed in the ambience and the barely there brush of power against his own, the witch will take more time to consider Magnus and his choices of dress. Will probably ask about the jewellery, wonder if the chains of gold are spelled and charmed like his own, but for now, he is honestly just enjoying himself. His rings clink against the tumbler and he smiles, raising it to Magnus before taking a sip.

He doesn't mean the look on his face to be insulting, honestly, but--

"Holyshit, I didn't expect this to be this amazing." Sage blinks a few times at the tumbler before taking another sip, light flush on his features. "Uh, I mean, I wasn't really expecting it to mix so well. Not that I didn't think you would make amazing drinks but--" Ah, so good with people, Sage, so good with people. This is why he drinks and doesn't expand his social circle, right here.

However, the fond look on Magnus's face draws him out of the embarrassment, makes something a little fond and a little bitter flicker on his own face. "That is fucking trusting on his part. But-- you two really work well together. I mean, from what I have seen. You're both lucky, to find that."

A beat where Sage looks into the glass, furrow between his brows before he downs a good portion of it without batting an eye. He is trying his best not to think about a certain barista, but, well, he isn't really succeeding. Damnit.

"I draw from the swamp. Well, no, I think the swamp was like a filter. That's why-- that's what the whole blood magic was, not for me but for it. Life and death. I guess I draw energy from those." He crinkles his nose before looking up at Magnus. "As for potions, all of them? I haven't come across a potion I couldn't brew, and here I am learning to experiment a little, but-- I guess the only ones I am not great at are ones for hangovers."

A fact that makes him laugh. "Karma is a bitch like that, I guess. But yeah, kind of a witch of all trades, also do a lot of charm work." He holds up his hand, the few silver rings on his fingers glinting. "Mostly awareness charms, and some strength charms in the piercings I have." Which he is not about to show off in a bar. "You a potion brewer or that more of a hobby?"

[appetitive]

"If that's the case, you're definitely wasted on decorating when you could be mixing drinks or brewing potions." Besides, even though Magnus wasn't going to bring it up, he planned on doing the majority of his renovations through magic so that he wouldn't have to close the club for more than a day, tops. He wanted to keep the conversation on track, though, gently guiding it towards the destination where he could offer Sage a job at the bar once his comfort there as well as his skills with potions were established.

Now that they both had drinks in hand, Magnus lifted himself up onto the counter so he could sit on the edge, legs crossed and body angled toward Sage. His golden eyes twinkled at the reaction, always pleased to find that he had satisfied someone with a drink, whether they were a customer or a friend. "I've been mixing cocktails for over two-hundred years, and several centuries before it was advisable." He smirked, Sage's double-edged compliment and following stumbling to correct it reminding him of someone very specific; it was a good comparison to draw, seeing as he'd ended up marrying him.

"Perhaps it was trust," he said, swirling his glass as he held it delicately in his fingers. "I'm the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and I was helping save someone's life. Still, it was a lovely moment to share when he caught me in his arms as I collapsed," he added with a brighter smile. He could see the edges of something dark in Sage's expression, though, and reminded himself it not everyone welcomed his constant praise for his husband.

With that topic pushed aside, unless Sage were to broach it once more, Magnus focused on his explanation of how magic worked for the witch. "Sacrifices as a way to fuel the swamp which in turn helps your own power." He understood it, even if he didn't condone it. Then again, he had a history of summoning minor demons for the right purpose and price. "Have you ever experimented with using your raw magic?" Eyes flickering over the jewelry, he felt their energy and hummed to himself at the fact that their worlds didn't seem all that different on the subject of magic. "Potions are a specialty, though not the only part of my job description. It gets complicated, but I try to fill whatever magically role is needed by clients or survival."

[muskeg]

The ease with which Magnus sits himself on the countertop, glass in hand, has Sage marvelling just a little bit at his grace. He probably would have ended up falling over the bar if he had tried that himself. Of course, he manages to make a bit of a fool of himself either way when he sputters a little at the warlock's age. "Fuck-- over two hundred?"

Blinking owlishly Sage is quiet for a moment before: "Man, you gotta give me your skincare routine."

Even when he knows that it probably has nothing to do with skincare, it is easier to think about that than the implications that those who have magic where Magnus is live longer, rather than shorter as Sage is used to. There were those that managed more, average lifespans and beyond, but, mostly? Not that lucky.

"High Warlock huh, fancy title. But-- fuck, takes a whole hell of a lot of trust no matter the circumstance to share energy, and I am sure it was the same for you two." Another sip of his drink before he laughs. "Did you collapse or swoon? Because, dunno, I can see you swooning a little."

It speaks to how comfortable he is, that he can tease even this much. Can speak of his charms and his magic, of the swamp and her demands, without feeling as if someone might try to burn him at the stake for it.

"Mmm, only a few times. The first time I let loose was, uh-- not a good one. It's--" He pauses, turns the glass in his hand. The first time he let lose his magic, when he discovered it playing by the edge of the swamp on the grounds of his family home, he lost his sister. Almost lost himself too, but--

"Don't have the best associations with my magic when it's raw honesty, and never had anyone around to help with it but the swamp. So.." He shrugs, as if to say 'that's that'. Only he knows that it probably isn't; this is the closest he has come to talking about it though, ever.

When Magnus brings up potions, clients and survival, the witch latches onto that, huffing a laugh and raising his glass a little. "That is understandable. I work much the same, though no classy titles for me. Just... swamp witch. Best with potions, and probably most well known for them too. Though I am getting better with charms and spells in rings and such, but that's new for me. And I have been trying them out on myself, to make sure. Sofar... kinda fun."

It requires a lot of focus, and intent, and creativity and Sage is enjoying it. Or was. Will again soon? He doesn't know.

[appetitive]

Magnus grinned at the reaction to his age, patting his hair with a ring-clad hand like a primping primadonna. He had always loved the varied reactions to his age—shock, respect, suspicion, the whole gambit—but Sage's awe fell into the category he enjoyed the most. "Somewhere in the six-hundred, actually," he replied, stretching the truth somewhat but also, sometimes he lost count by pure accident. Lying about his age had become a habit when, as a young warlock, the only way to win trust and respect was by having a few fake centuries of experience under his belt. "I make all of my own products, actually. I suppose I have an affinity for brewing all sorts of things, not just potions."

Chuckling into his glass as he took a sip, Magnus' eyes stayed on Sage. He had the sometimes unnerving habit of staring at people when they were worthy of his attention, eyes hooded but alert much like the feline he resembled. "Oh, definitely a combination of collapsing and swooning. I was drained of energy, but how could I not be swept off my feet by the way he came to help me like that?" It had been doubly meaningful considering that Alec had barely stapped more of a toe out of the closet at the time.

His playful attitude sobered as Sage explained more about his magic, and he thought there was something haunted about his eyes as he spoke. Setting his drink down, Magnus turned the full range of his attention on the young witch in front of him. "Would you like a teacher?" he asked, instinctively drawn to a supernatural being in need of guidance. He'd been in that position before, and his desperation for help had pushed him into accepting the kind that had cost him his morality. "I don't know how much help I would be with the specifics, but I have years of practice with controlling raw magic." And even if the differences between them were too great, perhaps Magnus could help simply by providing Sage with some moral support.

"At least potion brewing is most likely the same," he said a bit more cheerfully, trying to give Sage an out that would allow them to focus on a less heavy subject. "You could always give yourself a title. I'm pretty confident that's what the first High Warlock did, and it just became fashionable for large cities to have one." With the mention of charms, Magnus nodded his head towards Sage's jewelry while taking up his drink again to drain the last inch of it. "I can feel them, what are they for?"