Her search is unsuccessful; there's a couple of gay teen witch-girls, but she's not keen on sleeping with someone who could be her grandniece, and anyway they seem less than interested in her slightly dusty charms. She gets miserably drunk, sobers up miserably with a whispered invocation, and makes her miserable way home.
...She spots someone lurking, out the corner of her eye. She knows from lurking, it was a whole unit in Watcher training. That is a vampiric lurk. Recalling last night's incident, she decides to investigate. From her purse, she retrieves an unobtrusive spraycan of sanctified Mace, and she strolls very casually into the occupied alleyway.
Johanna does rather a lot more squinting than Chris, but lays down her pieces in turn. "I'm sure this floor arrangement is very useful for your purposes, but I think when I grow up and become a big scary witch I'd rather just use chalk. This thing gives me a headache."
They get all the pieces set down, Chris's focus stone included. It's a perfectly ordinary-looking pebble, such as one might pick up from any old riverbed.
That is definitely not an ordinary pebble. That is... not even slightly an ordinary pebble. It's difficult to bear in mind that it technically looks like one when it is so obviously not. "Nice focus."
She opens another box and takes out enough agate, tiger's eye, and black tourmaline to mark all the remaining intersections of the diagram, which she does - black tourmaline on the innermost eight points, tiger's eye for the middle set, agate at the last. Then she sits in her indicated place, facing inward.
"So I'm going to talk to the focus stone for a bit, remind it what an exciting life it has had being a rock, suggest that it work with me here," she explains. "If the spell goes off nicely, I might want to go over it with you and come up with a version where you're a more active caster, maybe bringing in Liesel so we can use the full range of pieces. We'd have to find something - or a set of things - to work for you like my focus stone does for me, I think, but I'm sure that's manageable."
Johanna nods. "I've got a wand in my purse that's attuned to me, I haven't used it in years but it should still be a good starting point. D'you want me to take it out now or just do your rookery bit?"
She just starts talking to the focus stone behind Johanna, in Anglo-Saxon. Her alliterative verse is a little more polished this time around.
The metaphor-vision shows the red glow of magma, the burst of light as a volcano erupts, then the rippling dark at the bottom of a deep river. Chris coaxes the stone to lend her its strength, and then she and Johanna are sitting inside a stone tower crisscrossed with a web of silver light. The lines follow the real diagram at first, but then multiply and extend through the stone walls, up and down and around. There is a feeling of movement in them, like the flight of an arrow, glowing contrails bent and pinned in place.
Chris thanks the stone for its help. The metaphor fades.
"Whew," she says. "That was interesting. I think it went pretty well, don't you?"
"And that was without any guidance for your bishop-as-arrow. If you wrote up a spoken metaphor to complement my wall with your web, I think we'd really have something."
"Yeah. I- I should, uh, figure out how to ramble about the strength of interwoven threads and breaking through the thousand layers of- can I use Hebrew? Is mixing languages okay?"
Johanna sets about thinking very hard about how to poetically Hebrew about threads and arrows and the lattice of foresight and subtle power. Poetry has never been her strong point, but she can try, at least.
Chris fetches the notebook and contemplates how to alter their layout for the change in focus.