technicallyhellbound | Ghostcat shenanigans

Ghostcat shenanigans

It had been a few weeks since they'd started this arrangement, and so far the Cat had, in fact, been a surprising amount of help. Enough so that Charles had stopped being mostly on-guard while in his presence and had even taken the 'puppy' nickname in stride, though he still hadn't really looked too deeply at why it didn't bother him as much as it probably should.

That particular day was neither a Monday nor a Friday, and was in fact a Wednesday, so while it wasn't one of their scheduled briefings, it was a visit that had been arranged in advance, a few hours while Crystal and Charles were at a concert, the kind of thing that while Edwin enjoyed being invited to, really wasn't the kind of thing he actually enjoyed going to, and the others both knew it, which was why they continued to invite him, even if he always declined.

It was late afternoon, not yet early evening when he stepped out of the mirror into the cannery, tugging at the collar of his slipover in much the same way he did the lapels of his usual jacket. He'd been branching out from his usual look, just a little, in bits and pieces, and now had something of a range of shades of those softer jumpers, this one was a deep bottle-green and was nearly a cowl-neck, but definitely less severe than his usual look.

It had been raining in London, or rather it had been misting heavily, and he wasn't quite sure if it was still raining here or if it had just finished, there wasn't the same kind of moisture in the air, which meant that if it was raining it hadn't been doing so for long, and all he knew was that the Cat had something planned for them to do, he was only now considering that he probably should have asked a few more questions beforehand.

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That would absolutely have been his counter, because even in large cats people mentioned the black jaguars -or black panthers- coloration before their breed. Eventually someone would have to tell him he was being a cat-racist so that he could correct it before he actually got in trouble for it, but at the moment that was neither here nor there.

"I do know enough to know that Martinique would be quite upset to be referred to as a simple cat, she's quite proud of her heritage." There was still amusement there, tempered a little, but still there, he'd realized the Cat was a jealous sort, but hadn't realized that would extend to people who he'd never met and who were by no means a threat to his relationship -such as it was- with Edwin.

He tilted his face up into the breeze once they were outside, as if he could actually feel it, and maybe he could, it was hard to say for sure just what Ghosts could and couldn't feel, and honestly Edwin had come to learn that it varied to some degree, especially in his case, as his survival in Hell had certainly changed that kind of thing for him. He hummed an acknowledgement of the question, "We call it 'yes and no' but yes, I'm aware of the game."

Port Townsend is much the same as it ever was, save for the fact that the weather isn't quite as prone to random fits of terrible lightning or gloomy clouds now that it's resident witch has no power over it on account of her being Very Much Not Here. It doesn't feel all that much different otherwise, but the Cat feels a certain kind of freedom being able to walk around in this form with Edwin without worrying about her nasty bird spies or even the woman herself clip-clopping her way down the high street. It isn't often he walks as a human, preferring to move as a cat, but something tells him Edwin won't much appreciate being left quite literally in the dust by his quicker feline pace.

Speaking of felines.

"All cats are cats, Edwin, regardless of their size. For once, this isn't something you know more than me about—"

It isn't a spit, not exactly, but there is a show of teeth and a definite... straightening to the Cat's posture. Okay, so maybe he hasn't quite gotten used to walking around like this yet, and maybe Esther's absence is a blessing, but her presence is still heavy in the air, and maybe he's been driving himself nuts in the confines of his pillow palace and is feeling a little on edge because of it. Then, there's the problem he'd invited Edwin here to help him fix that could very well be messing with the general aura of the town as a whole and...

"Sorry," He grits out, inhaling slow and exhaling sharply out of his nose, his spine relaxing with the emptying of his lungs. He's only really shown his short patience to Edwin once, and that had left a real sour taste in his mouth, so — reluctant to repeat that — he focuses back in on the game element, without elaborating on his apology, or his apparent ill mood.

"Twenty questions should give us enough time to get there, if you want to play along." Wrenching himself back into business as usual, he tilts his head at Edwin and smiles. "Unless you want to get a little more personal; we could play two truths and a lie."

"Accepted," he replied easily, having watched that process with interest, though resisting the urge to slip out his notebook and jot it down, "but not needed, I was needling." Something he'd been aware of even if he hadn't entirely been doing it on purpose.

"I'm a terrible liar." In and of itself a lie, or most of one, but one that people tended to believe because he was honest to the point of being blunt most of the time, which did make it easy to believe he wouldn't -or couldn't- lie, "So the former is likely the better option."

His brow arched, arm curling a little more closely with the Cat's, something of an apology of his own for the aforementioned needling, "I take it that means you've got something in mind I should be asking about? Or should I come up with something for you to guess at?"

Usually he would relish the chance to witness Edwin's more prickly side in person, and the fact that he's apparently a little too on edge to appreciate it only makes him wish he had the protection of cat's body and their lack of physical tells to make him feel more comfortable as he experiences the weird shame-frustration combo that swirls in his chest. But, ever the expert at faking it until he forgets the line between reality and pretend, he firmly boxes the thought away. He does, however, let himself appreciate the closeness of Edwin on his arm, not missing a beat when he comes in tighter, his own shoulders visibly dropping a half-inch or so in relief.

"I'm not sure I agree with that. I've seen you lie. You're not bad at it, just..." Searching for a good word, he seems about to cast his eye over the town, but detonates that plan before it really takes off and looks at Edwin instead. Edwin has lied about him to Charles, he's lied about his feelings, he's lied about his motivations, his desires; and all of that only in the Cat's brief experience of him. He shrugs. "Hm. Well, you take it too seriously. You use lies like armour, and they're shitty armour, you can take that from me. You need to learn to lie for fun. Sometimes a white lie here and there can make things interesting. It doesn't have to be so serious."

But then, Edwin's seriousness is oddly refreshing to him, if equally frustrating at times. Though he's not sure he'd like it if Edwin cut a little more loose.

"Well, you can guess where I'm taking you. I think you can probably get it in- hm, maybe ten or so, if you're in top form today." A shrug. "Unless you've got an annoying little trinket or something like it in mind that you're expecting me to guess."

"Well that would hardly be fair for me to do, the point of the game is to have something unusual in mind, certainly, but still something that is ultimately possible to be deduced by those you're playing with."

Focusing on the game and the visit at hand was easier than getting into the weeds of just how well he could lie about what, and why he would do so, especially when they were supposed to be having a good time. Or, at the very least, determining that while they could work together, they couldn't actually manage being friends, though Edwin doubted that was likely to happen, and only partly because they both needed friends.

A thoughtful sound followed, already easily keeping pace with the Cat, "So you think I'll be able to guess where we're going, in near ten, before we get there, is that what I've just heard?"

The Cat could very easily point out that he's been around the block enough that his experience with magical trinkets isn't exactly limited — especially when it comes to wearable trinkets, as Edwin should well know — but he gets a strange enjoyment out of Edwin's pragmatic fairness in this regard. And oh, this is so much easier, isn't it? This is better than moping or wondering about what ifs, maybes, all of that. Whatever happened to his unaffected hedonism, what about all the fun he's had when nothing means anything?

He decides not to think about it — as easily as that. He decides to focus on this, on enjoying this, on enjoying Edwin for this limited time he has him, like he vowed to do at the market. Fuck everything else, that's for him in the future to worry about. Him in the now is delicately dancing his claws over the hand Edwin has on his arm, a physical tease as well as the vocal one he's about to supply.

"Well, if you're as good as I think you are. The game relies on how good your questions are, right? And you've got a head start, since you've already been to the town and all. Though I don't think you've ever been exactly here."

He retracts his hand to hold it up and over his mouth, the pantomime of shock.

"Oops," A smile grows. "Call that a freebie."

He laughed softly, shaking his head, "Well that's two, then, since you'd already said it was a place rather than a person or an object." Maybe he hadn't outright said it, but it was a reasonably clear implication of such.

Edwin considered for a moment, mostly just compiling a quick list of questions to start with and sorting them into the order he felt would be most beneficial, though he knew some would be removed simply by dint of answers to earlier ones.

He arched a brow then, "Is it somewhere indoors?" There were certainly some public buildings they hadn't been to in their earlier time there, and that seemed like the most sensible place to start his deductions.

The Cat scrunches up his nose at that first point — because he can't think of a single person in Port Townsend he'd want to take Edwin to (possessively, he wants to keep him for himself while he has him) and there are only so many objects of interest in such a sleepy little seaside town and he would hate to be a disappointment after this much build up — but he can't deny the little curl of his lip in amusement because, well. He really did let Edwin have a head start, even if he absolutely didn't need it. Call him sentimental.

While Edwin thinks, the Cat busies himself by patting over the collar of that sweater where it peeks out of his cuff, enjoying the fabric against his fingertips, almost absently needling it as he leads them onwards, through the quiet main roads and off down a side street, leading toward the beachfront.

"Ah...." Hm, he actually has to think about that a little. "It's not indoors, but it's not exposed to the elements, either."

What? He never said his answers would fall within the rules. Where's the fun in restraining a Cat who loves to hear his own voice to the limits of only being able to say yes and no?

"And now you're being generous with your answers." He replied, that prior sliver of amusement still very much in evidence. Right at the moment he was reasonably sure that yes, the two of them would make fine friends, though it mostly depended on just where they were going, and why the Cat thought he might like it.

But those were concerns for later, right at the moment he considered again, "And we're heading towards the beach instead of further into town or out into the woods. Not indoors but out of the elements."

His brow creased then, "Is there some sort of cave system here?" It seemed like the most logical conclusion, but he was also careful to keep his question neutral, just asking if the thing existed instead of asking if that's where they were going.

"I'm a generous Cat," He says, an idle shrug lifting one of his shoulders as he looks at Edwin's face, his single earring twinkling as it reflects off the light of the clear, cloudless sky.

He feels indescribably delighted at seeing that flicker of amusement across Edwin's features; it was a given that he'd like the gamification of this little mystery, but the Cat hadn't quite been prepared for how Edwin might look while enjoying it. So far he's only seen Edwin smile a handful of times (with varying degrees of authenticity) and so few of those times have been directed at him that now he finds being in the wake of them almost addictive, even when it's only something as low-level as this.

His golden eyes flash when Edwin mentions caves, and he purses his lips to stop himself smiling.

"There are, and quite a few stories to go along with them. I'm surprised you didn't read up on those during your time here, but then..." He hums, pantomiming genuine consideration, like this particular train of thought hasn't been tumbling through his mind the entire time he's known Edwin. "There's quite a few things you didn't manage to fully read up on about this place, isn't there?" He bats his eyelashes at the ghost.

"Yes, well, I was rather preoccupied when I was here before." He replied, because that much had been true, even without the caseload they'd taken on while they were stuck in town."

He shook his head, "One of our potential clients might have mentioned it, but it was only in passing, nothing truly related to their case." Both brows lifted then, eloquent as ever, just regarding the Cat for a moment, "Though I am curious now what would make you think that someone who escaped from Hell would enjoy spelunking."

Truthfully he didn't have any issue with caves, none of the parts of Hell he'd known were particularly cave-like. Some were cavernous spaces, certainly, but not of the underground cave variety. Mostly he just wanted to see what the Cat's response was.

The Cat pauses in his needling of Edwin's cuff to narrow his eyes a bit; like a Cat considering if the arm of a couch is worth sharpening its claws on. His smile overturns his attempts to control it, but he looks self-satisfied rather than guilty now.

"You escaped from Hell? Why, Edwin. You should have told me, I had no idea."

Apparently having swapped out needling his sweater for needling the ghost himself, the Cat relents quickly to make sure Edwin knows it's all in jest, by returning the little back-and-forth of his fingers across the seam of the cuff, and giving another casual little lift of his shoulders as they take a turn and start making their way down the little sloping road leading toward the familiar giftshop, and the lighthouse.

"Anyway, who said I was taking you spelunking? Isn't making assumptions a bad look for a detective?"

"Hm, yes, it's something most people don't know about me, actually." He was biting back a smile himself, because despite his earlier claims of not being able to lie, that was dangerously close to one and he said it incredibly easily.

The smile went a little too impish a moment later, one brow lifting, "So if it isn't exploration of the caves themselves, that means it's a feature of them. Something specific."

He shrugged then, fingers of his free hand flicking in a half-circular little gesture, "Or perhaps only something near the caves, but still out of the weather. And an educated guess is hardly the same as an assumption."

"The ghost detective doth protest too much," The Cat says easily, enjoying this little back and forth for exactly what it is: finding a relative comfortable ground where he doesn't take every dismissal or reminder of fact to heart, and Edwin doesn't assume he there is nothing to the Cat's attention other than foolish romantic intention. It's a good part of it, yes, but that's not all he's interested in. "I don't think we can call that guess educated, if we're being fair. There are plenty of things people can do in caves that don't even come close to being considered spelunking."

That could have soooo easily been turned into an opportunity to flirt, but look at him, being all normal about something he said instead of latching on to every chance he gets to level a suggestive comment at Edwin. He's not even waggling his eyebrows! Personal growth, ladies and gentlemen.

"But, while we're on the topic, I love that you use words like 'spelunking'. I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that out loud. So weirdly endearing." Okay, well. It was good while it lasted.

The Cat unfurls their arms as he gets to the little strip of wooded land before the walk down the brushland leading to the beach (if it can be called that) and the quietly roiling sea. Instead of letting Edwin hold his arm, he takes his hand, under the — very understandable, if you ask him — guise of making it easier for them to follow one another down the set of stairs leading to the rocky shore.

"It's something to do with the caves, yes. If you're scared and need me to hold your hand once we're inside, I won't mind."

"Honestly I haven't been in enough caves to know if I'm going to be scared of this one." Leaving aside the fact that he didn't scare easily, there was no reason to mention it, "And I'm well aware that there are other things to do in caves, but I sincerely doubt that you'd think of taking someone, even me, for a geological survey as a means of seduction." Were there more things that people might do in caves besides those two things, spelunking and surveying? Sure. But that was entirely beside the point at the moment.

Edwin was surprisingly sure-footed on the uneven terrain, but accepted the hand all the same even as he asked: "What word would someone use for cave exploration besides 'spelunking'? That's what it means, and just calling it 'exploring' is too general, there's all sorts of exploring, and why use two words, 'cave exploring', when you've already got a perfectly good word in 'spelunking' already?"

It was half a genuine question and half annoyance that language seemed to have moved on in a way he didn't agree with, but even on top of that it was also something dangerously close to flirting, since the Cat had said he liked hearing it.

Alright, now the Cat is really having fun. He hasn't even considered that Edwin might be saying it on purpose because he said he liked it, but all the same he's thoroughly enjoying hearing it over and over again, his grin getting a little wider and a little more genuinely amused with each repetition.

"Uh, caving?" He asks, in the tone of voice that denotes a duh without him having to say it. The way this real smile lights up his features makes him look a little more human than catlike as he turns it on Edwin as they walk, not needing to look where he's going, as he's walked this path enough times to not need to. And, well. Cats have a tendency to land on their feet. "I'm pretty sure that's what I've heard every group who come here to investigate them call it. And, speaking of geological seduction—"

They reach the bottom, and the Cat takes a moment to stop their progress, so that he can direct a more wicked grin at Edwin; back to his more typical expression.

"Some people dig it." Haha. Cave joke. "I guess it depends how into rocks you are. I've sunk to further depths than that, so if that's what gets you off, I don't mind being along for the ride."

"Caving." Edwin replied, having swayed easily to a stop when the Cat did the same, voice gone almost as icy as his expression, and there was a near lethal amount of derision in the tone even just on the one word, and while it wasn't directed at him, the Cat might still take some splash damage from it just due to sheer volume, "I will never understand the modern habit of replacing a perfectly good word with something so generic and bland."

It wasn't that he hadn't caught on to the flirtation, it was just that he was too incensed by the apparent deterioration of language to actually respond to it at the moment. It was enough that he'd lost the thread of the game they'd only technically been playing, though that was probably for the greater good, really, as he'd already skipped ahead several steps there.

He shook his head, kneading briefly at the bridge of his nose as if to stave off an encroaching headache, "The art of communication is truly a dying one." He lamented with a heavy sigh before lifting his head, managing to relax some of the tension in his jaw, "But, instead of carrying on being upset about something neither of us have any control over, we're here for a reason, yes?"

The Cat has seen enough of Edwin's weird little fussy mannerisms by now to no longer be surprised at the sight of them, but being prepared does nothing to stop how hopelessly endeared to them he is. All of Charles' doe-eyed looks of affection make sense in this frame of light, when Edwin is so uniquely frustrated by something that only he could be this frustrated by. It's really cute, and the Cat wants to hate how much he likes it, but he really doesn't.

That's probably why he lets Edwin change the subject, but definitely sticks a pin in it to bring up again later.

"We are, but at this rate we're going to get there before you figure it out." He smiles and squeezes Edwin's hand because oh, didn't he notice they're still connected by the gentle lace of their fingers? How convenient! "If you wanna take a few more stabs at it, that is. No shame in giving up if the curiosity is simply too great for you to handle."

And then, something seems to dawn on him, and he tuts, looking suddenly intensely put out.

"I can't believe I missed the opportunity to say 'get your rocks off'," he groans, then squeezes Edwin's fingers a little more, with intention. "That's what I get for letting you distract me."

That near-theatrical disappointment did get a quiet, amused little snort in response. Not a full laugh, but definitely as close as Edwin was likely to get at this stage of the proceedings, "And now that you've said it you won't be able to use it later, because now I know you were going to." A second missed opportunity and of course Edwin was going to point it out.

For the moment, however, he nodded, "Right, if I've still got a few more minutes I might as well give it a go." He considered, just briefly, having already determined that it was -more than likely- a feature of, or near, the caves, "Is the location of natural or of supernatural importance?" He would ask those questions separately if needed, but the cat had been generous with his answers so far, he figured it was worth a shot to ask both at once.

Sure, it might just be some interestingly-shaped rocks, but it might also be some kind of ley line configuration, or an actual gnome village, though he doubted that one, not unless the gnomes in question had gotten incredibly lost sometime previously.

The snort should have easily been enough to make him annoyed — one of the greatest and easiest insults that can be paid to Cat King is to hear laughter directed at them, and this Cat is especially sensitive to it — but Edwin's laughter doesn't feel mean spirited despite his told-you-so tone and almost smugness. It actually lights a bit of a fire in the Cat, inspiring him to find something else to say in place of the offending euphemism, or else to find some other way to make Edwin laugh. Perhaps even properly next time.

"Mmm," He says with a little thoughtful squint of his eyes, like a Cat determining if the scent in the air is one they like.

"It's... a natural location of supernatural importance," He answers finally, because no-one ever said he had to be completely transparent with his answers. But then, because he basically gave Edwin nothing with that response, he adds: "And I'll need your help with something when we get there."

That was still enough of an answer to catch Edwin's attention if nothing else, brow arching "I see. If I'd known I was going to be doing manual labor I'd have worn better gloves." As if he couldn't change them with a moment's concentration, as if he actually needed to do anything of the sort.

The tone was still amused as anything, or at least as amused as he got in public, "But regardless, consider my curiosity piqued." He had been curious from the drop, really, because the Cat's choice of outing would -in one way or another- give Edwin some more insight into how the shapeshifter operated, and that was definitely of interest to him.

"Who ever said a thing about manual labour? Eugh." The Cat gives a dramatic little shudder, not ignorant in the slightest to the fact that he'd given Edwin another clue. And if that's what he'd been fishing for with that comment, the Cat is more than happy to oblige him. "I wouldn't ever make you do anything I wouldn't do myself. Didn't I tell you that I'm a fair Cat King?" And a consensual one, but that much should be fairly obvious by this point, since the Cat has been showing surprisingly good behaviour for a while now.

"But that-" He says as Edwin gives his confirmation. "Is music to my ears." He throws his free arm wide as though displaying a new world opened up for them. "Herein lies the start of your slippery slope into indulgence, baby. It's only downhill from here."

And, speaking of Edwin's gloves, the Cat squeezes his fingers again before starting to pull him across the little inlet of sand and stones, off toward the rockier area heading out toward the crook of the shoreline. This could almost be considered nice, he thinks, if there weren't a motive to it. It reminds him of their time together at the market, but even then they'd had a bigger goal in mind than just simply spending time together. Well, Edwin had, at least. He wonders what it might be like, some day, if they were to simply see one another for the pleasure of it. It's easy to imagine from his perspective, but Edwin...? He's not so sure.

"Mm, you did, more than once as I recall." He replied, almost breezily to the question of the Cat's claims toward being fair, and if the Cat wasn't going to mention the rest of it, Edwin wasn't going to call him out on it, there was no point, really, not when he'd held true to that part as well.

The truth was that without something to do while visiting each other -even if it was just taking an walk- Edwin would get anxious, pacing and irritable like a zoo animal in a too-small enclosure.

For the moment, however, he just made another quiet sound of amusement at the -in his mind- outlandish claim that it would be that easy for him to simply fall into a life of indulgence, shaking his head, "Well I have to say I'm out of ideas, no guesses with the information I already have, and I suspect we're near enough now that it wouldn't matter if I even had the question that would crack the whole thing."

"Are you letting me win? I'm blushing. You should know I like a surrendered victory almost as much as won one, if you keep this up I'll get mixed signals."

He tosses a dazzling smile over his shoulder as he keeps them on their little path toward the passage of rolling waves. The Cat, however, makes sure to get nowhere near them himself, even going as far as to finally drop their hands so that he can walk on the other side of Edwin's body as they go, though it shouldn't be any surprise that he's not the biggest fan of water, despite living on a dockland and being pretty much constantly surrounded by the sea on this little inlet.

He comes to the stop by the mouth of, yes, a cave; a big gap in the dark rock of the sloping hill, cut in with ocean rocks serving as a little dam that stops the tide from flooding the floor. At least when it's low, like it is right now. It's unassuming and very standard as far as caves go, but once they get inside — once the Cat has shown Edwin where to step to avoid the rock pools and little pockets of deepsand — a second chamber is revealed to the left of the initial opening, and this is — or so the Cat says — where the real attraction is.

Upon entering, this side chamber is lit very faintly by a light that seems to come from nowhere, tinted almost pink despite no reflecting glass or sea water to bounce back onto the walls. The walls themselves are the first sign that there has been the influence of something other than natural time on the stone that makes up the cave. There are scratches in the walls, little holes drilled into certain crevices, and one large one that seems to travel all around the room as if something large tried to split the system in two.

"You were pretty close," the Cat says, uncovering with one boot the crack travelling straight across the floor, dusting away the sand in the center, so Edwin can see. "There's a ley line here, but it's been damaged from years of bad influence, and by curious mystery hunting humans who pick up on one too many folklore theories that they'd do better to leave the fuck alone."

All his previous flirty manner has gone as he looks down at the jagged line on the floor, leaving him almost... serious. It's a strange look for him.

"It needs upkeep every so often, or its power gets hard to tap into, and even harder to predict. I used to work at it with Esther, but since she's indisposed," A tight little smile. "I thought you might like to help."

Edwin had been able to tell what was there even just entering the chamber. could feel that energy hanging in the air like a sort of humidity, probably not the same way the Cat felt it, because as it was ley lines were one of the few things that could make a ghost more fully corporeal for a time, and the only one Edwin knew of that wasn't uncomfortable in the process. He wondered if it was something the Cat knew or not, and he might even remember to ask once they were done.

Even this one that was frayed, in a way, partially depleted like an ore vein having been stripped nearly bare, was still enough to have him hesitating just inside the threshold, not yet near enough for it to fully affect him just yet, but it was still enough of a distraction, that nearly-sensation, that he almost missed what the Cat was saying, blinking slowly and collecting himself again enough to answer, "I'm not entirely sure how much help I'll be for something like that, but I'm willing to give it a go. What do you need me to do?"

There's a thrumming under his skin when he stands in this room, and enough raw power still hanging around that it makes him feel strangely on edge, like teetering on the precipice of fight or flight. Coming here with Esther was always a shitty time — because a witch can't feel what a Cat can feel getting close to this kind of thing, and she would always taunt him about losing control of himself — but Edwin seems almost owlish in his take on it, and the novelty of it is almost a balm to the Cat's haywire nerves, and he even manages an actual smile.

"You must have read enough about these things to know how they work, right? Natural energy needs a natural band-aid. I have everything I need here for the upkeep. I just need you to monitor. We used to take it in turns, but things got a little," he sucks his teeth. "Dicey. Now and again."

He's not sure why it isn't spilling out of him — it isn't like Esther is going to come storming into the warehouse to beat him to death again for divulging her secrets, but there's clear tension in the way he balls his hands at his sides.

"I can't get too close to it. The ley-line itself and the telluric current here, it— it fucks me up. My magic is too elemental. Esther could, because hers was learned and inherent by birth, not by biology. You can get close, too. I've never heard of a ley line do anything to a ghost but make them stronger."

He rolls his shoulder a little, keeping his gaze on Edwin for now, rather than looking anywhere else, as if the ghost is as much an anchor as an accomplice.

"I thought that your little binding spell might help, unless you have anything stronger."

Edwin would argue that it didn't exactly make a ghost stronger, just more present, but that was nearly the same thing and it wasn't worth it, not with the tension already visibly riding the Cat's shoulders. That was new, and he chalked it up to talk of Esther just as much as the magic running rampant in the room, not in flux exactly, but fluctuating in a way that even he could feel, a sort of barometric pressure against his senses.

All the same, he nodded as he eased closer, taking another slow, steady breath, letting the magic there suffuse him. Certainly the Cat had already been able to see him, this hardly would have worked if he hadn't, but there was a weight to Edwin now that there hadn't been before, and he turned to regard the Cat once more, brow creased a little, nodding once at the question, "I've remade it, yes, though I'm afraid I'm going to need more specific directions, are you going to need a tether of some kind?"

There's a strange sensation that washes over him as Edwin steps ever closer to the node of the ley-line that sits beneath this cave. The Cat is expecting to feel that dread he felt with the witch, when the natural energy responded to her negative impact and became even more of a roil beneath the surface of the Earth, because even though Edwin is no witch, he's seen enough hellish things to easily have some kind of impact... but the effect is entirely different. Edwin seems clearer, in sharper focus, as though his colours pick up better the closer he gets to the line. His eyes are mesmerising like this, and for a moment the Cat almost, almost, gets lost just looking at them. A familiar feeling, and though it isn't the right time for it, it unwinds a little of the tautness of his shoulders and hands.

He exhales, physically shaking free the reverie with a little toss of his head, focusing instead on letting magic transform his very human hand to something a touch more beastlike. He then holds his other out toward Edwin, wrist first. And if it just so happens to be the perfect mirror of the wrist he picked to on Edwin to latch his caging spell around, then, well. Call it coincidence.

He smiles invitingly.

"Just here, if you don't mind. And don't worry, I promise I won't demand payback for this one."

He considered for a moment, even as he drew the coiled tether from a pocket, nodding once as he looped a quick miller's knot around the Cat's wrist, something that would hold but wouldn't constrict with movement, and, most importantly, something he wouldn't be able to easily shake loose or un-tie one handed himself, not that Edwin thought it was going to come to that.

He kept the trailing end looped loosely around his own hand, though his hold was firm enough, letting it flare to the warm yellow glow with a gentle flick, a glow that was more honey-gold in the strength of that magic still filling the room, "Hm. Interesting." He wouldn't have thought something that was already completed and, for lack of a better word, sealed would still be affected by that kind of thing.

It wasn't a bad thing, he'd created it, so it being stronger simply meant he had better control over it, which was something that under other circumstances he would like to explore. He nodded once more, "Secured. Is there anything I should look out for?"

Magically producing a cup in a flash of purple light, the Cat offers it to Edwin with the hand turned bestial. "I need you to hold this under my arm, and I need you not to flinch. Everything is going to be fine, as long as you keep your eyes on me and keep that string tight, alright? I won't mind if it hurts a little..." He says, with a little pantomime of secrecy, as if divulging a secret to Edwin; confessing that he might even like it if he took the opportunity to be a little rough.

It's a play to ease the tension, of course, but it's not clear whether the Cat meant it for himself or for Edwin. His shoulders do relax a little more, though, becoming limber as he inhales and the scent of power and magic fills his lungs.

"I'm going to fill this cup with blood. My blood. Obviously." The Cat figures he should at least give Edwin the whole picture, even if there's not a whole lot of backing out he can realistically do now. He could still refuse, he supposes, but that glitter of curiosity in Edwin's eyes tells him that this might just be a performance interesting enough to keep him keen, despite the small amount of violence. "It's the quickest and most effective natural balm I've found without calling on some outside magic user to come take a look at it. Which I don't really wanna do while it's so volatile. Once the cup is full, you can get close and pour it across the crack."

He studies Edwin's face, thinking still how strange it is to be doing this with the ghost instead of with the witch who would sooner belittle him for all his snarling than show any kind of fear or concern in the wake of it. He's not sure how Edwin will react.

"It won't be pretty, but I can take a little instability. I just need you to watch for my eyes changing. If it gets weird, or I start losing focus on you, give me a pull." He wriggles his wrist, though the amplified power makes it hard to even do that much when the other end of the tether is in Edwin's hold. He smiles. "It should be easy for you, right? I'm sure you've always wanted an opportunity to actually keep me in line."

Having the process laid out in nice, simple, easy-to-follow steps was the way to explain it, really, because while Edwin did consider for a moment, it was only a brief one and he nodded, "Alright. I can do that."

Normally he'd caution against blood-magic, but ley lines were the kind of deep, even primal magic that required the same in turn, which meant this was one of the few instances where blood magic was the best option. More than that the blood of a magical creature was the way to go, because while the blood of a magic-user could work, they'd have to be attuned to the place and they'd have to have blood to use, and that counted him out twice over.

He shifted his weight a little, drawing himself up and drawing the tether taut, not pulling yet, but holding steady, taking up any slack just to be sure there was the least amount of risk of his losing his hold or the cat being able to get away by accident.

Edwin's agreement is as swift and as sure as most of his decisions often are, and that, too, settles the Cat's lingering nervousness a touch. Edwin is a much more stable constant; despite the uncertainty about their relationship to each other and the general wobbliness of their camaraderie, the sight of him and getting an agreement out of him, even if it's only in the effort of soothing curiosity, feels good. The Cat clings to that, to feeling good, as he turns his attention onto stretching out his tethered arm as much as he can as Edwin lines the cup beneath it. With his clawed hand, he presses the point to the thick vein down the center, and pauses for one single steadying breath before slicing a small but deep cut along his skin.

Blood pours and instantly the air in the room around them changes, like there is a tear in more than just flesh, like there is more space, suddenly, for energy and magic to move and flow in. The Cat's body tenses as the first drops from the pour hit the metal cup, as his dark scarlet blood starts to fill the receptacle while the ley line sings in eager joy like a baby bird about to be fed. He can feel the way it hungers, calling out to the hunger in his own soul, to the need in him to belong, to the small weariness he feels in keeping up disguise after disguise after disguise until it isn't fun any more. The natural energy of the world wants him as close to the core of his being as he can be, and doesn't he want that too?

The bestial hand, not yet changed back to a human glove, clutches on to the portion of his upper arm where he'd rolled up his sleeve, as though doing so will help him keep it still more than Edwin's powerful restraint is already doing. The desire to run in him is great, to run from the temptation to let everything spill over. He growls in frustration, but… instead of doing any of that, he just looks at Edwin's face. Perhaps not a great idea, depending on the ghost's reaction, but one he's sure he'll find comfort in regardless, some way or another.

Honestly that partial transformation was utterly fascinating, even moreso than the whole process that was the reason for it, and that was also fascinating, both from a spellcasting perspective and simply from an information-stored-away-for-later-use perspective.

His brows both lifted, just a little, some almost-but-not-quite question as he met the Cat's gaze, he had been told to watch for any change in the Cat's eyes after all, and it was probably some kind of unfair that he was able to do that and keep both hands steady at the same time, but that was just one of those skills he'd probably had to learn the hard way and had only had time to hone more fully in the past thirty-some-odd years.

Mostly it was only almost a question because he could feel the flux in the power around them as well, like some kind of gathering low-pressure front before an actual storm, the kind that might still dissipate again but might roil over into thunder and lightning, and he was gauging the Cat's reaction to see if it was something he had to worry about. Which really just meant that what the Cat was likely to see was a deeply fascinated curiosity, tinged with some genuine concern that hadn't yet made it to being actual worry.

Curiosity is good. It's familiar to the Cat, but familiar to see it on Edwin's face, too, and it's still nice to be under his scrutiny despite the rather tense circumstances. He's always found Edwin's interest addictive, even if it was an interest bourne only from a lack of further exploration and understanding, like the interest in his body had been back in Port Townsend, like the interest Edwin had shown — albeit briefly — in his truth magic.

Not only that, but the Cat can see the ever so slight softening of Edwin's features in the way his eyes are wider than normal, the way the set of his brows is tighter in the middle. He's not foolish enough to read too much into it, but his heightened senses will take it and bottle it up and keep it safe— and use it now, to keep him steady as the energy around them tries to find an in to carve out more than he's willing to give.

His breathing is laboured now, coming from him in heavy pants that shake his shoulders as the cup gets halfway full. It's always a struggle, the final stretch, and normally this is where Esther would make some stupid fucking comment about this whole thing taking too long and being too dramatic and make him feel embarrassed and small and therefore angry and eager to lash out to shut her up.

It doesn't happen, because she's not here, but frustration sets in as he realises he can't stop fucking thinking about her. She's gone, she's probably never coming back, but he's keeping her alive every time he pictures her face in his mind and God, if that isn't a big allegory for some masochistic tendencies, then he doesn't know what is. Something tells him it all would have been so much easier if he'd had claws to keep her quiet, if the size of him alone and the warning of a lashing tail would have kept her from demeaning him.

It's irritating, he's irritating, and he breaks eye contact with Edwin to screw his eyes shut against the feeling, grunting in frustration and in pain as he digs his claws into the meat of his upper arm out of a loss for what else to do.

That frustration was almost palpable, and it was familiar in a sort of sideways kind of way. It was something he'd seen on Charles more frequently as of late, now that they'd actually been making an effort to talk things through. More than that, though, it was something he'd done himself as well, and for similar reasons, even if they weren't exactly the same they were close enough that he and Charles had the same response now.

One that -while he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do- he used on the Cat at the moment, "Stay with me." It was said as he tightened his hold of the tether, enough to draw the Cat's attention as he didn't have a free hand to clasp his shoulder or upper arm or elbow with the way he would have done for Charles, the way Charles did for him.

He wasn't going to voice his assumption that the Cat was thinking about Esther, mostly because he wasn't sure if that was it, and even if it was he wasn't sure if it was his place, but keeping the cat grounded in the here and now he could, and would, do.

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Ghostcat shenanigans

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