Oracle hunting, again
After her bad experience last week (and all the fun of explaining the cut on her neck that weekend), Cordelia was taking a break from trolling demon bars for information in regards to local oracles. She hadn't been getting anywhere with them anyway, so she figured it wouldn't be much of a loss. If she was going to find an oracle in this damn town, she needed to come up with a better place to look.
Correction: she needed to come up with better people to ask. Demons just weren't reliable enough. She was sure at least a few of the ones she'd talked to knew damn well where to find an oracle in town, but had no reason to tell her, so they either played dumb or gave her false information for the fun of it. What she needed was someone more like Lorne, who had always been good for local demon info and was friendly and honest. She needed someone in the know that was on her side of things.
Lindsey was in court today, so she took the opportunity to do some investigating during the afternoon. No demon bars, but there were other places that dealt in the darker side of things, if you knew where to look, like occult shops. She hadn't thought to check those until today, but they were perfect. She knew Angel had sometimes gotten information from them - why hadn't she thought of it sooner?
The first two were a bust, but the third held some promise. The owner, a haggard old woman that looked about as stereotypically witch-like as anyone could get without warts and a hooked nose, had turned her relatively straight (but still large-ish) nose up at Cordelia when she'd first come in with her questions. She'd taken one look at her and assumed she was some stupid ditz actress trying to "research a role" or something equally inane, and wanted nothing to do with her. But Cordelia had never been one to be ignored, and persisted until the woman finally understood who she was and what she wanted. She had to throw around Angel's name, which annoyed her, but he still had a reputation in Los Angeles, and her association with him got her farther with most people than anything else. Except for the demons. With them she tended to use the "my boyfriend is a lawyer at Wolfram & Hart" line, which didn't always work, but at least got their attention. Even if it was technically a lie.
One of these days she'd have to tell him that there were a few demons out there expecting free legal advice. That was best saved for after she was cured. Maybe he'd be too happy to have her alive and well to care that she'd kind of been pimping him out in exchange for information. In her defense, she only did it with the ones that seemed harmless.
Once Helga (not her real name, but it's what Cordelia silently dubbed her) had given her a possible oracle location, she thanked her, bought a few books as payment for her help, and headed back home. She had no idea what the books were, but they didn't look like anything Lindsey already had. Maybe there'd be something interesting in them, maybe not. They were old and kind of dusty, and she'd learned from experience that those tended to be the best ones. They were also the most expensive, but if Helga's tip was good, they'd be worth every penny.
At home, she took Kona out for a walk, then showered and changed while she tried to decide what to do next. She could wait until Lindsey got home and tell him what she learned, let him weigh in on what she should do next. Or she could call Angel and tell him. He was the one with prior oracle experience. But then what would he be able to tell her that she didn't already know? You go there, you give them something shiny, and then you ask for what you want. They either help you or they don't. There really wasn't that much to it.
No, she wouldn't bother any of them with this. Not until she was sure they could help. What would be the point in getting their hopes up? For all she knew, Helga was lying just like everyone else, and her directions would just lead to another trap or deserted building. Then Cordelia would look like a naive idiot for believing her. Better to check it out on her own first. It wouldn't take that long - it wasn't too far from the Hyperion, surprisingly enough. She'd go, see if it was legit, then come home and plan her next move. Maybe have a quick chat with the oracle while she was there to feel them out. How long could it take? An hour, two tops. She'd be back long before Lindsey got done with his court thing. If all went well, he'd come home to good news.
Before heading out, she popped a bunch of pain pills to curb the worst of her latest headache, and hoped she wouldn't have to for much longer. She was tossing them back like candy these days. In private, but tossing them back nonetheless. Just one more little secret to add to the rest.
Since it was close by, she parked at the Hyperion and walked the rest of the way, not wanting to leave her Jag unattended in what was sure to be a less-than-desirable section of town. She had a knife with her, and some pepper spray, just in case, but it was the middle of the afternoon and for some reason she trusted that Helga wasn't sending her into a trap. Still, that wouldn't stop your average street thug from hassling her, so the weapons were there if she needed them.
Like all the other places she'd been led to, this one was unremarkable from the outside. In fact, anyone passing by would look the other way, assuming there was nothing there but dirt and cobwebs. It wasn't quite seedy enough to attract squatters and drug dealers, but it was just dark and dingy enough to repel the curious. The perfect place for an oracle, as far as she was concerned. Only those who knew they were there would think to look past the boarded-up front door. Literally. The door wasn't the real way inside. There was a side entrance, small and hidden, but it was there, just like Helga promised. So far, so good.
The side door led to a dark, musty vestibule with what appeared to be a bottomless well in the center. There were no signs anywhere, no "Ring bell for service," or "Take number for next available oracle." Just the well and something dripping eerily off in the shadows.
"Huh." Curious, Cordelia approached the well and looked down. Darkness, as far as the eye could see. Not even any sign of water. No soft sloshing or reflection staring dimly back at her. Just an echoey blackness that stank of mold and something much less pleasant. Now what?
She wandered the perimeter of the room, found it was round, with old stone walls and, other than the door she'd come in through, no other sign of exit. Maybe Helga had been messing with her after all.
Or maybe not. There was one thing she could try. If it didn't work, she'd feel like an idiot and lose a rather valuable bracelet, but it was better than just turning around and leaving. With a sigh, she opened her purse and retrieved the piece of jewelry she'd brought as an offering, held it up in front of her for a moment, then looked up at the ceiling, where a small amount of sunlight was filtering through a crack in the stone.
"I've come in search of an oracle," she said loudly. She felt ridiculous, speaking to an empty room, but kept going. "I have an offering to make. I hope it's enough."
It better be enough. It cost her a couple grand.
Here goes nothing. Reluctantly, she tossed the bracelet into the well, then leaned over the side to watch it fall. She waited, then waited some more, but never heard it hit bottom. Eek. Better not lean so far...
Just when she was starting to feel like a complete moron, there was a sound behind her, like rocks scratching together. She turned, and where there had once been a wall, there was an arched doorway, and beyond it, a room covered in gleaming white marble.
"Wow," She whispered to herself. "If we ever move, I want that in the master bathroom."
"Enter, Cordelia Chase." She heard the voice before she saw who spoke. Even more curious now, and a little excited (if they knew her name, this MUST be an oracle!), she edged through the doorway into the marble room. Her mouth hung open in awe as she took it all in, and she was so busy admiring the room itself that she didn't even see the people standing in the middle of it until one of them spoke again.
"Your offering is acceptable. Tell us why you seek our guidance."
"Oh!" Startled, she whirled back to face them, then paused in surprise as she took in their appearance. They were both male, and looked human enough, despite the weird gold paint all over them and the designs drawn on their arms and faces. Something about them made her think of ancient Greeks, and she wondered if maybe that's what they were. Didn't the Greeks have oracles on Mt. Olympus or something like that?
Hey, she hadn't always slept through English class. The Ancient Greek stuff actually interested her. All those gods and goddesses and the gold and luxury... she could see herself living just fine back then.
When they continued to stare at her, waiting for her answer, she nodded and cleared her throat. "Um, yes. I need to talk to the Powers That Be. Or, I guess I need you to talk to them? I don't really know how this works."
The taller of the two seemed to raise an eyebrow at that, without actually moving. "No one talks to the Powers That Be."
"Well, someone must be able to, and if it's not you, then who? Cause I really need a few words with them, like, yesterday. I know you've helped Angel with stuff before - "
"Angel?" The shorter man interrupted this time. "You know of Angel?"
"Know of? Boy, for oracles, you sure don't know much. I'm his seer, duh. You know, the girl with the visions? I know he's out of the Champion business these days, but I still have the visions, and I'm still doing the work that goes along with them, so I would think the Powers could spare a couple of minutes to hear me out."
The oracles regarded one another for a moment, then nodded. "Of course. He has not been our concern for quite a while yet. We have been... out of the loop, as you might say. The last great war cut down our numbers severely. We are not able to follow the lives of former Champions."
"Why do you come here, Seer?" the other oracle - the taller one - asked, nearly interrupting his... friend? Co-worker? She wasn't sure what to consider them. "You are no longer connected to a Champion, so you are of no interest to us. You waste our time.
Frowning, Cordelia looked around the room. "You don't look very busy to me. Am I getting in the way of your staring at the walls or something? Is there an oracle party somewhere you're late for? All I'm asking for is a few minutes. I have a problem, and I think the PTB can help. They did before... well, sort of. Skip said he was my demon guide, but now I'm not so sure. I'd rather avoid dealing with demons of any kind this time, so that's why I came here. I just need someone who can ask the Powers to fix my headaches again. Do whatever they did before and make me part-demon or whatever needs to happen so my head doesn't explode. They brought me back for a reason, right? So if they needed me here so badly, then it would be in their best interests to keep me from dying."
Again, the oracles looked at one another, and she suspected they were having some sort of silent conversation. She fidgeted nervously as she waited, afraid they would throw her out any second. They really were pretty rude, and kind of obnoxious. So much for the image of gentle, all-knowing spirits she'd been imagining. Sure, she'd talked to an oracle before, but that one was in the form of a human girl, and they'd found her outside in a playground. Apparently this was their more natural state and domain. It was starting to give her the creeps.
Though she could still appreciate that marble. It was exquisite. And all the gold accents... she was definitely going to look into doing something like this in her next house.
"We have discussed your situation," the shorter oracle finally said, turning back to her after what felt like forever, but was probably no more than 30 seconds. "We will take your issue to the Powers That Be. Our connection is not what it once was, so we will have to go there directly. You must wait here."
Before she could say anything, they both turned and vanished through the archway behind them.
"Wait, I - " She was talking to no one, so she sighed and took a step back, looking around the room again. "Great. How long am I going to have to wait?"
Maybe she should have left a note before she left home. Crap.
Correction: she needed to come up with better people to ask. Demons just weren't reliable enough. She was sure at least a few of the ones she'd talked to knew damn well where to find an oracle in town, but had no reason to tell her, so they either played dumb or gave her false information for the fun of it. What she needed was someone more like Lorne, who had always been good for local demon info and was friendly and honest. She needed someone in the know that was on her side of things.
Lindsey was in court today, so she took the opportunity to do some investigating during the afternoon. No demon bars, but there were other places that dealt in the darker side of things, if you knew where to look, like occult shops. She hadn't thought to check those until today, but they were perfect. She knew Angel had sometimes gotten information from them - why hadn't she thought of it sooner?
The first two were a bust, but the third held some promise. The owner, a haggard old woman that looked about as stereotypically witch-like as anyone could get without warts and a hooked nose, had turned her relatively straight (but still large-ish) nose up at Cordelia when she'd first come in with her questions. She'd taken one look at her and assumed she was some stupid ditz actress trying to "research a role" or something equally inane, and wanted nothing to do with her. But Cordelia had never been one to be ignored, and persisted until the woman finally understood who she was and what she wanted. She had to throw around Angel's name, which annoyed her, but he still had a reputation in Los Angeles, and her association with him got her farther with most people than anything else. Except for the demons. With them she tended to use the "my boyfriend is a lawyer at Wolfram & Hart" line, which didn't always work, but at least got their attention. Even if it was technically a lie.
One of these days she'd have to tell him that there were a few demons out there expecting free legal advice. That was best saved for after she was cured. Maybe he'd be too happy to have her alive and well to care that she'd kind of been pimping him out in exchange for information. In her defense, she only did it with the ones that seemed harmless.
Once Helga (not her real name, but it's what Cordelia silently dubbed her) had given her a possible oracle location, she thanked her, bought a few books as payment for her help, and headed back home. She had no idea what the books were, but they didn't look like anything Lindsey already had. Maybe there'd be something interesting in them, maybe not. They were old and kind of dusty, and she'd learned from experience that those tended to be the best ones. They were also the most expensive, but if Helga's tip was good, they'd be worth every penny.
At home, she took Kona out for a walk, then showered and changed while she tried to decide what to do next. She could wait until Lindsey got home and tell him what she learned, let him weigh in on what she should do next. Or she could call Angel and tell him. He was the one with prior oracle experience. But then what would he be able to tell her that she didn't already know? You go there, you give them something shiny, and then you ask for what you want. They either help you or they don't. There really wasn't that much to it.
No, she wouldn't bother any of them with this. Not until she was sure they could help. What would be the point in getting their hopes up? For all she knew, Helga was lying just like everyone else, and her directions would just lead to another trap or deserted building. Then Cordelia would look like a naive idiot for believing her. Better to check it out on her own first. It wouldn't take that long - it wasn't too far from the Hyperion, surprisingly enough. She'd go, see if it was legit, then come home and plan her next move. Maybe have a quick chat with the oracle while she was there to feel them out. How long could it take? An hour, two tops. She'd be back long before Lindsey got done with his court thing. If all went well, he'd come home to good news.
Before heading out, she popped a bunch of pain pills to curb the worst of her latest headache, and hoped she wouldn't have to for much longer. She was tossing them back like candy these days. In private, but tossing them back nonetheless. Just one more little secret to add to the rest.
Since it was close by, she parked at the Hyperion and walked the rest of the way, not wanting to leave her Jag unattended in what was sure to be a less-than-desirable section of town. She had a knife with her, and some pepper spray, just in case, but it was the middle of the afternoon and for some reason she trusted that Helga wasn't sending her into a trap. Still, that wouldn't stop your average street thug from hassling her, so the weapons were there if she needed them.
Like all the other places she'd been led to, this one was unremarkable from the outside. In fact, anyone passing by would look the other way, assuming there was nothing there but dirt and cobwebs. It wasn't quite seedy enough to attract squatters and drug dealers, but it was just dark and dingy enough to repel the curious. The perfect place for an oracle, as far as she was concerned. Only those who knew they were there would think to look past the boarded-up front door. Literally. The door wasn't the real way inside. There was a side entrance, small and hidden, but it was there, just like Helga promised. So far, so good.
The side door led to a dark, musty vestibule with what appeared to be a bottomless well in the center. There were no signs anywhere, no "Ring bell for service," or "Take number for next available oracle." Just the well and something dripping eerily off in the shadows.
"Huh." Curious, Cordelia approached the well and looked down. Darkness, as far as the eye could see. Not even any sign of water. No soft sloshing or reflection staring dimly back at her. Just an echoey blackness that stank of mold and something much less pleasant. Now what?
She wandered the perimeter of the room, found it was round, with old stone walls and, other than the door she'd come in through, no other sign of exit. Maybe Helga had been messing with her after all.
Or maybe not. There was one thing she could try. If it didn't work, she'd feel like an idiot and lose a rather valuable bracelet, but it was better than just turning around and leaving. With a sigh, she opened her purse and retrieved the piece of jewelry she'd brought as an offering, held it up in front of her for a moment, then looked up at the ceiling, where a small amount of sunlight was filtering through a crack in the stone.
"I've come in search of an oracle," she said loudly. She felt ridiculous, speaking to an empty room, but kept going. "I have an offering to make. I hope it's enough."
It better be enough. It cost her a couple grand.
Here goes nothing. Reluctantly, she tossed the bracelet into the well, then leaned over the side to watch it fall. She waited, then waited some more, but never heard it hit bottom. Eek. Better not lean so far...
Just when she was starting to feel like a complete moron, there was a sound behind her, like rocks scratching together. She turned, and where there had once been a wall, there was an arched doorway, and beyond it, a room covered in gleaming white marble.
"Wow," She whispered to herself. "If we ever move, I want that in the master bathroom."
"Enter, Cordelia Chase." She heard the voice before she saw who spoke. Even more curious now, and a little excited (if they knew her name, this MUST be an oracle!), she edged through the doorway into the marble room. Her mouth hung open in awe as she took it all in, and she was so busy admiring the room itself that she didn't even see the people standing in the middle of it until one of them spoke again.
"Your offering is acceptable. Tell us why you seek our guidance."
"Oh!" Startled, she whirled back to face them, then paused in surprise as she took in their appearance. They were both male, and looked human enough, despite the weird gold paint all over them and the designs drawn on their arms and faces. Something about them made her think of ancient Greeks, and she wondered if maybe that's what they were. Didn't the Greeks have oracles on Mt. Olympus or something like that?
Hey, she hadn't always slept through English class. The Ancient Greek stuff actually interested her. All those gods and goddesses and the gold and luxury... she could see herself living just fine back then.
When they continued to stare at her, waiting for her answer, she nodded and cleared her throat. "Um, yes. I need to talk to the Powers That Be. Or, I guess I need you to talk to them? I don't really know how this works."
The taller of the two seemed to raise an eyebrow at that, without actually moving. "No one talks to the Powers That Be."
"Well, someone must be able to, and if it's not you, then who? Cause I really need a few words with them, like, yesterday. I know you've helped Angel with stuff before - "
"Angel?" The shorter man interrupted this time. "You know of Angel?"
"Know of? Boy, for oracles, you sure don't know much. I'm his seer, duh. You know, the girl with the visions? I know he's out of the Champion business these days, but I still have the visions, and I'm still doing the work that goes along with them, so I would think the Powers could spare a couple of minutes to hear me out."
The oracles regarded one another for a moment, then nodded. "Of course. He has not been our concern for quite a while yet. We have been... out of the loop, as you might say. The last great war cut down our numbers severely. We are not able to follow the lives of former Champions."
"Why do you come here, Seer?" the other oracle - the taller one - asked, nearly interrupting his... friend? Co-worker? She wasn't sure what to consider them. "You are no longer connected to a Champion, so you are of no interest to us. You waste our time.
Frowning, Cordelia looked around the room. "You don't look very busy to me. Am I getting in the way of your staring at the walls or something? Is there an oracle party somewhere you're late for? All I'm asking for is a few minutes. I have a problem, and I think the PTB can help. They did before... well, sort of. Skip said he was my demon guide, but now I'm not so sure. I'd rather avoid dealing with demons of any kind this time, so that's why I came here. I just need someone who can ask the Powers to fix my headaches again. Do whatever they did before and make me part-demon or whatever needs to happen so my head doesn't explode. They brought me back for a reason, right? So if they needed me here so badly, then it would be in their best interests to keep me from dying."
Again, the oracles looked at one another, and she suspected they were having some sort of silent conversation. She fidgeted nervously as she waited, afraid they would throw her out any second. They really were pretty rude, and kind of obnoxious. So much for the image of gentle, all-knowing spirits she'd been imagining. Sure, she'd talked to an oracle before, but that one was in the form of a human girl, and they'd found her outside in a playground. Apparently this was their more natural state and domain. It was starting to give her the creeps.
Though she could still appreciate that marble. It was exquisite. And all the gold accents... she was definitely going to look into doing something like this in her next house.
"We have discussed your situation," the shorter oracle finally said, turning back to her after what felt like forever, but was probably no more than 30 seconds. "We will take your issue to the Powers That Be. Our connection is not what it once was, so we will have to go there directly. You must wait here."
Before she could say anything, they both turned and vanished through the archway behind them.
"Wait, I - " She was talking to no one, so she sighed and took a step back, looking around the room again. "Great. How long am I going to have to wait?"
Maybe she should have left a note before she left home. Crap.