Chicago

[gone_byebye]

The door opens onto a construction scene as the sun is setting. "This is Navy Pier," says Ray. "The Robert Mackenzie was supposed to come in here back when it was still a serious commercial facility. We're kind of assuming that's where it's trying to come back to."

Comments

[gone_byebye]

Ray nods. "Be right back," he says, and jogs off to the other part of the pier. A little while later he's back. "Peter says be back before it gets too dark and Winston says testing is fine with him. Egon's busy grilling the Coast Guard guys. Let's go."

He can fill Carlos in along the way.

[mago_sonriente]

Carlos grins and follows Ray, his gait confident and at ease. He's getting a feel for the magic in this Chicago, which is a different beast all together from the stuff that was rocketing around Chicago back home. He wondered if that was Harry, or if that was the effect caused by this building he was going to see.

"So... tell me everything. Everything you know, any information is good to have."

[gone_byebye]

"All right," says Ray. "It all begins with the fact that back in 2003, we had a quarrel with an EPA agent named Walter Peck, who was under the impression that the paranormal didn't exist and that we were a bunch of con men. I bring this up because Peck managed to nearly destroy New York City by getting a court order to shut down our containment unit and release all the spirits and ghosts we'd captured. After the mess had cleared, Peck dropped off our radar for a while and turned up again in a black ops position that got me temporarily kidnapped. Again, not all that relevant, except that this time Peck went to prison. And while he was in prison, he managed to convince the prison staff to let him order, read, and study books on ceremonial magic. Thelema, specifically. Which is how he managed to amass enough power to turn himself invisible and walk out of Fort Yankton Federal Prison Camp without being seen- the prison's within spitting distance of a major ley line nexus, and he tapped right into that. He's been wanted by the FBI since, and he's been bouncing from magically potent site to magically potent site across the country, looking for something that he doesn't seem to be having much luck at getting his hands on. Although he apparently almost got the Black Door- he just got interrupted by one of the laundry staff."

[mago_sonriente]

"Black Door... you mind explaining that one? As far as I know," as far as Harry's told him and as far as the White Council knows, "there's no Black Door in Chicago."

[gone_byebye]

"Oh. Big black iron door in the basement of the Palmer House, more locked than any normal door has any right to be," Ray says. "The door doesn't get touched except to be cleaned off once in a while. Rumor has it in the paranormal community that there's a significant dimensional rift on the other side, but I've never had the chance to examine it myself before this trip."

[mago_sonriente]

"Rumor has it? No one's investigated?"

He sighs and shakes his head.

"Okay, remind me the next time I have time that I have to look into this at home but also? See if I can contact anything like a White Council you'd have here. Because something like that? Those just aren't questions you want up in the air, you know what I mean?"

He keeps walking, though.

"You have any clue?"

[gone_byebye]

"There've been attempts at investigating, but the paranormal researcher community's been sorely handicapped by a lack of reliable equipment and capacity, not to mention that the owners of the Palmer House aren't exactly happy with the thought of a bunch of weirdoes rampaging through their hallways in search of a dimensional disruption that may or may not be there," Ray says. "Understand that I'm a scientist and have next to no contacts in whatever magical community might exist."

[mago_sonriente]

"It's all in how you present yourself," he says. "I'm from LA: image is everything. That said, I understand that kind of problem. It happens. We all have real lives."

A pause before--

"You might want to look into something like that. Usually, if you take them seriously, people are pretty willing to help. The kind you'll want helping you, anyway."

[gone_byebye]

"If I can muster up enough time, I'll try," Ray says. "Between the busts, the analysis of bust results, the overall studies I'm working on, and training my nephews, plus the sword lessons and practice, I'm kind of overbooked- but once busy season's over I should have a chance."

[mago_sonriente]

"Well, you know you've always got me, man," he points out. "And I am the best."

[gone_byebye]

"That'll go a long way," Ray says sincerely. "Thank you."

It's not much farther to the Palmer House from there. Any idiot with the least amount of magical sensitivity could tell that something is leaking here- spewing and sparking like a worn wire on an overloaded extension cord.

[mago_sonriente]

And Carlos is no idiot. He's been feeling it as they walk, not making assumptions though since Ray's an admitted mystical cheese slice when it comes to detecting thist stuff on a gut level.

Carlos points at the Palmer House.

"That it?"

[gone_byebye]

"Got it in one," Ray says, and grimaces. "The staff reported green flames coming out of the basement after Peck fled the scene. The fire department managed to put them out, but things haven't been quite right since."

[mago_sonriente]

His head tilts to the side and he holds up a hand as he puts out his feelers. No Sight here, not when there's a chance of getting psychically blinded.

[gone_byebye]

The dimensional rift idea was a good one, but it wasn't right. The Black Door in the basement of the Palmer House is made of iron- solid, purpose-wrought iron- for a reason. Thanks to one thing and another, the geography of the Chicago area in this world led, long ago, to the confluence of multiple ley lines within the city limits. In older times, they used to shift and move about, but with the growth in population and infrastructure they became less and less mutable. The last time any of them moved was when that door was installed. Nothing was sealed behind it- the seal was in it. All three of the major ley lines that intersect in this Chicago do so in the physical matter of that Door, and they've been pinned there by the mass of iron and the glyphs that ward it ever since.

It's just that some fool tried to jimmy the damned thing open and managed to damage several of the glyphs in the process, and the line that runs most directly into Lake Michigan's shifting again, trying to move to reflect the changes in the city since the binding. Hence the furious spewing of sparks; it's what happens when you get that kind of aborted motion of mystic energies, at least around here.

[mago_sonriente]

"Well, shit," he say with a shake of his head. "Peck's a fricking moron."

He looks to Ray.

"Can you get me in there? Cause I can get us in there otherwise, but I figure, do it the legal way first if possible, you know?"

[gone_byebye]

"Sure, not a problem," Ray says. "Can you use the elevator or do we have to take the stairs?"

[mago_sonriente]

"Elevators are older than you'd think," he points out, gesturing for Ray to lead the way.

[gone_byebye]

"Fair enough," says Ray, and heads into the hotel.

The front desk people are a little baffled, and so there must be a manager summoned, and quite a lot of talking done. Venkman can schmooze his way into nearly any situation he needs, but he's not here. Ray's approach is a little different. It usually involves talking so much, so fast, that the other person agrees to whatever he asks just to make the constant stream of sounds stop. In this case there's also the presentation of New York City IDs and a letter from the Mayor of Chicago, and then more talking in excruciating detail.

It ends, eventually, with a somewhat rickety old elevator normally only used by the laundry staff quietly easing the two men downwards.

[mago_sonriente]

"This whole place is buzzing. Jesus Christo..."

He's very glad he didn't try his Sight on this place.

[gone_byebye]

"My PKE meter goes bugnuts just approaching the place," Ray confirms. "Okay, the door's supposed to be down this way..."

It looks, for all intents and purposes, like a bog-standard corridor. People come here, just like they come anywhere else in the hotel, but the linoleum on the floor hasn't been scuffed and worn down the way most of the rest of the linoleum has on this level. There's just no reason to, except when the staff has to clean up. It's not like anybody ever opens the huge black iron door at the far end.

We don't advise anyone of the fae persuasion to come any closer than this.

[mago_sonriente]

He's pretty well gotten that on his own.

"Fucking hell," he swears now, taking a look around.

"What was this? Amateur night with the magical equivolent of a switchblade to pick the lock?"

He looks at Ray.

"You didn't mention he was a moron."

[gone_byebye]

"He got a court order to shut off the containment grid of an ecto-containment unit that was already crammed to capacity with angry spirits at a time when the ambient PKE level of New York City was practically through the roof," Ray says. "And he learned his magic from books he bought at Amazon.com. I thought it was obvious."

[mago_sonriente]

"I know," he says with a sigh. "But this is the kind of cock up I wouln't expect out of a first year apprentice. Dios mio."

And he holds up a hand.

"You, uh, might want to leave the room. I'm good, but I have to concentrate, you know?"

[gone_byebye]

Ray nods. "Not a problem. Around that corner over there okay with you?"