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Jan. 5th, 2018 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
halfblaked
ᚫ Hello, you've reached Professor Blake. I'm likely in lecture right now, but you may leave a message. ᚫ
ᚫ VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | EMAIL ᚫ
[ ⅏ ]
halfblakedᚫ Hello, you've reached Professor Blake. I'm likely in lecture right now, but you may leave a message. ᚫ
ᚫ VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | EMAIL ᚫ
[ ⅏ ]
voice
Date: 2018-08-14 01:34 am (UTC)[ She hasn't heard from him in a bit, long enough that perhaps she should be more polite- but there's no time. She's a fool for putting this off for this long. ]
Listen- there's something I need to talk to you about. ASAP. Please get back to me.
voicemail
Date: 2018-08-14 01:43 am (UTC)David doesn't call back.
It's twenty, thirty, forty minutes. An Hour. Two Hours. Six Hours. David Blake doesn't call her back. ]
-> action
Date: 2018-08-14 02:22 pm (UTC)She already felt like an idiot after the events of this week, but this is one of the worst moments of it all- she could have called days ago, hell, she could have actually talked to Blake about what she suspected months ago. What's safety when you can't prepared yourself for the worst? As if Woden would leave him alone forever.
That said, maybe- maybe he's just distracted. She doubts it, but maybe. So she rushes down to the University and to his office, rapping on the door and, then, quickly realizing he's not going to respond. So she divines her way in, knowing he won't just be sitting there peacefully but hoping for some sign of where the hell he is.
She hasn't spent much time here. What does he even keep in this office...? ]
action
Date: 2018-08-14 03:02 pm (UTC)The walls were lined with books, almost to the ceiling, broken only by a few spaces. If Cassandra took any look, she'd notice they weighed heavily on the Nordic and Anglo-Saxon side, second was books about the celestial bureaucracy alongside books by Graves and Campbell; and the books were expensive. Old editions in excellent quality, not the kind of thing a professor could get without connections. A vase in there -- detailing sisyphus pushing a stone up the hill -- and no lack of old runes, one in particular dotted the shelves more than others -- ansuz. His day planner lay on his desk, and while it had been crammed full of appointments, notes, and other notes, after August 2nd, it's blank. Ongoing.
There's another pad of paper beneath it, with sheets ripped out. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-14 08:32 pm (UTC)But even as she sits down at his desk and gets to work, she notices all the small things in this room- it's the ansuz that catches her eye first, then the Norse books. He couldn't have realized his son's identity, could he? Kept it to himself? She knows him well by now, but not incredibly well. But she doesn't linger on it, thinking she must be thinking too much.
And yet, there's the day planner and its mysterious absences, and the pad of paper. She pulls it closer to her, noticing the ripped-out sheets. Could Woden have taken those papers, if he came here- either to take his father, or perhaps after? Could Woden have erased his planer?
Or- if he knew his son's identity, could he have known what Woden planned...? ]
No. [ She mumbles, just to reassure herself. As if Blake would do anything like that. She needs to finish this divining, and not think of...these things. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-15 02:08 am (UTC)Non-standard, too. The kind of thing that a younger person would use, but if David had help... perhaps it was more likely.
His folders were neat, and organized. Lesson plan after lesson plan, lectures and powerpoints, all constructed with precision, a variety of subjects, all mythology -- but eerily, despite David's clear favoritism, no Norse lectures. Nothing. Not a single one. Not even an anglo-saxon-focused one.
One, however, was titled 'Pantheon2013'. Password protected, weirdly enough, but before Cassandra can start in that direction, a message popped up. Innocuous, sent from a colleague, from the name on the message. "Hey, David! Back from "Holiday"? Is that how you guys say it across the "Pond"? :) I thought you were going to be gone for a while?" ]
action
Date: 2018-08-15 02:58 pm (UTC)She knows what she'd rather believe. And that's easier to believe. But there's so much Woden would have had to do, so much Blake would have to hide for seemingly no reason she can think of. She's starting to feel sick, though she submerges the impulse.
She wouldn't put it past Woden to have some sort of remote access to this. Better not to send a message, give too much away. And, she tells herself, just seeing that Blake was on some "holiday" reveals enough already. She's going to target the "Pantheon2013" folder instead. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-16 02:11 am (UTC)Yes, of course, it was clearly a presentation for a class. All 13 members of the Pantheon reflected, and one for Ananke. Innocuous, for Blake. Nothing out of place, nothing unusual in the data. Each page was a short blurb about each Pantheon member, pictures of the ones who were in the city -- each one...not publicly available. Caught in action, actually. Normally from head on, as if in the middle of a fight. Cassandra would recognize her photograph from her fight with Woden during the wild hunt -- Baphomet's from his concert, with additional notes about his creations -- that they could make it as if people who were not imported, were. Baal's about his ambassadorship -- no bitterness, clearly -- Lucifer about the fact that she was dead back home, same with Inanna, what they could do, powers. Persephone, that she was powerful and dangerous, some of the things she could do with her abilities. Cassandra's, unsurprisingly, was glowing in review. Woden's was concise, to the point, that he built things and that he was the worst of the gods, and clearly compensating for...something.
All in all, it looked just like a lesson plan. Like he was going to give a lecture about the pantheon, but... something about it wasn't right. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-16 04:15 am (UTC)But she can't stop thinking about why the hell he would use a picture of her from the Wild Hunt.
Plenty of normal paparazzi pictures to use, yeah? Maybe she's getting too hung up on these little things. She nearly laughs to herself, just out of anxiety.
If he really wasn't involved, this is going to cause problems later, but- well, fuck, she's one of the Pantheon. She can find some way to explain. She finally messages the colleague back, only barely trying to keep the Professor's voice: Just checking in. It's not much of a holiday! Did you think I was going somewhere? ]
action
Date: 2018-08-16 04:35 am (UTC)There's a small indication that the colleague is typing back, blithely unaware that anything was going down -- beyond the usual import chaos. "You said you were going to take a trip and look into some sort of mythology thing? Honestly, David, I don't know how someone like you can find something like that so interesting. It's all Greek to me! (LOL)
A few moments later, and then:
Are you remoting in? I thought you said you were leaving on the 2nd, and wouldn't be back for at least a few weeks! "Very important things with your world's 'pantheon', and now you're missing out on all this mess! Are you psychic? ]
action
Date: 2018-08-16 07:32 pm (UTC)What could he have known? This is David Blake she's thinking about. What could he really have done?
She doesn't bother with the messages anymore- she's gotten more than enough from them, and if he was really involved in this, she suspects he wouldn't have said more. She goes clicking around instead, moving through his folders, wondering if there's something more she missed. Chatlogs? Something buried in a normal-looking document?
And while things are loading, she starts moving things around, restlessly, more for the sake of moving than anything. If he really hid so much in one place...is that foolish or predictable for someone related to Woden? ]
action
Date: 2018-08-16 09:17 pm (UTC)While Cassandra shifts, peering through the files, she'll notice some powder on the desk, seemingly dust, but there's little here, and it's tucked against a corner.
Maybe there's something more in his desk...?]
action
Date: 2018-08-17 01:59 am (UTC)That's not possible. It's not. Was Woden using him as a plant? Accessing his computer somehow? Or- ]
No no no.
[ God, what the fuck else would it be? What the fuck else. She's dense, but not dumb. She doesn't know how he could have ever had powers, or where the hell the actual Jon Blake is. But suddenly she's run out of options. ]
Fuck fuck fuck no I fucking hate this fucking absolute horseshit fucking asshole-
[ And while she's sputtering, not really paying attention to how she must sound to those passing by, she smacks the desk harshly- and notices the powder. She moves her hand around the area. What the hell could that be? ]
action
Date: 2018-08-17 05:14 am (UTC)When Cassandra slammed her hands on the desk, there's a sound of a small clatter in the desk, like something slipped off -- David was never prone to such outbursts, surely, and if she continued to investigate, she'd find an imperceptible catch on the underside of the desk, something that was just raised enough that she can hit it, before a few items would fall right into her hands.
It's incriminating, too. That white powder could be anything. Residue, anthrax, or even just dust, but a bag full of it is pretty...telling, as to what it is. The other item is just...a fidget cube. Something all the teens were into -- except it's black with green filigree, fitting a certain someone's theme, and pattern, and if she bumped just the right buttons... it'll open up precisely what she thinks it's going to open. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-17 03:57 pm (UTC)He knows all her research. He did it with her. He knows so much about her, worked with her, she trusted him and fucking he does this and he was always doing this, and she needs to ball her hands into fists and rub her eyes to get herself thinking, doing anything else.
And then she picks up the cube, smacking it as much as she is pressing buttons. When the bifrost opens she hesitates, nearly expecting him to come out.
And after a moment of sitting there, thinking he's about to step in, she- hesitantly, ready to strike- moves just enough of her body in to see where it leads. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-18 03:16 am (UTC)But David -- Woden -- isn't here. He doesn't step through the portal, or more accurately, flies through the portal, followed by his assailants. Nothing happens, and while Cassandra ponders it, time ticks by, the analogue clock in David's office softly ticking away, while she can stare out, waiting like a ticking time bomb, until --
When she peeked through -- it's to nowhere. Not really nowhere, but it's nothing exciting. It's outside the university. There's trick to the bifröst, after all. One must have intent to use it. But it works, and it doesn't vanish with Cass halfway through it, which all things considered, is pretty good when it comes to anything having to with David "actually Woden" Blake. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-20 02:51 am (UTC)Once she's attempted that, the sudden moment of calm reminds her of something; she reaches into the dark of her cloak, into the magical storage space she's somehow gained access to, and pulls out a spare flash drive. Nothing could kill the journalist in her, she supposes. How does she know Blake won't walk right in here, after all? She already may have tipped him off sending that message. She shoves the flash drive in, and starts dragging folders into it.
And once that's done, she sits back, her heart beating quick. Fuck. Fuck. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-20 03:46 am (UTC)Did that mean he wasn't a god at all?
Nothing happened, in his office. No goading, no messages for Cassandra, the computer didn't even start to auto-delete, and wouldn't for a bit more -- not until David's presence left the plane.
Smart, then, that Cassandra was able to copy the files. The only other possible source was the bookshelf. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-20 09:37 pm (UTC)She starts with the desk, pulling papers out, and when she's done with that she goes toward the bookshelf. Fuck these books. Fuck how fucking obvious his choices are, now, fuck how he hid it in plain sight like he was bragging.
When she starts pulling books out, it's as much looking for another sign as it is an excuse to ruin something. Anything. ]
action
Date: 2018-08-21 04:41 am (UTC)In his books, when they fell open, were notes, annotations, rogue pages filled with more diagrams, notes -- rough sketches of designs for the new pantheon, some notated and marked, notes on the sides.
The Prose Edda -- marked up -- page after page, heavy black lines over parts -- the Gylfaginning open, black lines, over an entire chapter. What could he have felt was so important to remove from a very expensive, very old translation of an obscure myth? ]
action
Date: 2018-08-21 11:36 pm (UTC)He can buy his own version if he wants to take shitty notes so bad. She opens the window to her godly storage space and throws it in, and then adds his more specific notes on these new "gods"; she suspects she's going to have a hell of a time figuring this out, later. She's starting to get tense in this room, both wanting to move around and wanting to do something grander than this. She takes out her flash drive once all the information is done loading, throwing it in with the rest.
Part of her wonders if any of his colleagues are going to notice her leave, then come in and see the mess she's made. Yet another way this day could get shittier. But they wouldn't understand this. They wouldn't understand anything. So few people do. Maybe no one.
Fuck him. Fuck.
Glancing around, not even bothering to cover her tracks, she turns to leave. She wants him to know she's caught him. ]