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[hellandbackpack]

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For catting

[hellandbackpack]

[He had no idea where he was.

He had no idea of much of anything, really, but that was beside the point. Laying flat on his back in a sparsely decorated room in front of a standing mirror, he'd taken a moment to try and sort out just what he did know.

I'm a ghost. I'm a ghost and I'm... somewhere.

Less than helpful. Patting down his jacket he didn't find much- some odds and ends, trinkets and baubles he wasn't sure what to make of. No reflection so he couldn't get a better look at himself. A thing he didn't know he knew until he had picked himself up and tried to look and the information just swam up out of the foggy recesses of his mind. Right. He wasn't sure what to do about it, but...looking for clues? Yes, that felt right.

He investigated the room, the hall, the bathroom, the room across the hall. All of them seemed somewhat familiar, but nothing was being jostled loose, and he didn't find any real signs of current habitation. Bits and bobs that always seemed to be left in the wake of moving, but no names or pictures or anything else that might give him names or faces to go off of.

The downstairs looked like a bomb had gone off. It had been cleaned up, clearly in the middle of repairs, but there were still bare studs and subfloor exposed. He skirted a sawhorse and stacks of supplies to slip out the door onto the main thoroughfare, brow furrowing as he looked one way then the other. It was... somewhat familiar. Like he building he'd come to awareness in, he knew he'd seen it before, but that was all the recollection he could seem to pull.]

Right- [It felt strange to turn and glance, presumably to see if anything looked familiar nearby to start with, and not find... someone standing there at his shoulder. Something about the wrongness of that settled in, and he gave himself a faint shake as if in defiance of the sensation.] Right then, nothing for it but to see what's what.

[Surely he'd find something that would jog his memories. Or find someone who could see him. Unaware that he'd already been spotted, the little feline already darting away to share their news.]

For sidhean

[hellandbackpack]

[The newest case had seemed straightforward at first. A librarian noting the vanishing of one of her patrons, reaching out to the Dead Boy Detective Agency for assistance in tracking them down. Even she admitted that it was possible that he might have moved on, but something about it didn't seem right to her. So they agreed to look into things.

And they found this was not the only ghost to vanish. One or two was an unfortunate coincidence, but close to a dozen now, that only the ones that they'd found word of, those who had others who noticed their disappearance? That spoke to something larger.

The one thread that bound all the myriad vanished spirits was mention of the Night Market. Not entirely strange- they accepted all sorts there, dead, alive, in-between so long as they obeyed the rules of the place. It was an excellent source of all manner of things, from the mundane to the supernatural. One had to be careful bartering though. It was no Fae thing where consumption bound a person, but anything was up for trade. Most tended towards magical artifacts or trinkets, knowledge and secrets, but some vendors would accept payment in memories. Emotions. Traits or luck, years from a person's life, the color of their hair. Anything had value to someone, and while the rule was the transaction must be willing, that didn't stop someone from having buyer's remorse because they didn't think about what they were trading away.

Normally, Charles wouldn't come here without Edwin. The other was always so much better than him at sussing out the sort of trouble that came from this place, knew more magic, knew more about the supernatural. But he was in the middle of a ritual that couldn't be left unattended, that couldn't be put off, so it was with no small amount of unease that he'd agreed.

Worried or no, Charles couldn't help but be a bit excited. As dangerous as the place could be, the Market was always interesting. So he just made sure his coat was snugged tight around him, that his pack was secure on his shoulder as he cut into the crowd. He tried not to just run into or through people- keeping corporeal for the moment helped with that, but he still had to dodge out of the way of the rare sort who, for some reason despite being able to get to the Night Market, were unable to perceive him. He had his little bundle of things to trade for information, his warnings thanks to Edwin, and knowledge of several ways in and out if things got too dangerous. He was absolutely ready for whatever was to come in this little solo adventure.]

#1 Grandad reporting for duty

[coldsong]

Getting yanked from the middle of reading peacefully in his chamber and into the middle of a summoning circle is not entirely unprecedented for Loki, but it's not your average Tuesday, either. The first thing he notices is it's clumsy. Someone with more power than sense is pulling on him. He has just enough time to grab an extra book before the world drops out from under him and spills him onto the floor in some kind of basement, and the next thing he notices is it's dark, which is annoying because he was really enjoying his reading.

"Damn it! You couldn't have let me bring a lamp? I was working on something!" He blinks owlishly, and his eyes are definitely going to adjust faster than any human's, but he's still put out.

And then the third thing he notices is that he's not alone in the circle. Well, that's sloppy work, surely? You can only pack so many entities into one spell...