jointheclub: (and here it is)
Horace Slughorn ([personal profile] jointheclub) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2015-06-11 12:53 pm

Man About Town [Open]

A. Wandsworth

Tucked away down an unassuming little street, an innocent dilapidated building sat as it always had, and probably always would, as far as mortal eyes were concerned. They would never see the sign over the door, which itself looked as if it had seen better days: an S crossed with two bars. Spells sat on this sign and this building, an illusion that shielded it from mundane view and revealed itself to the supernatural.

This, then, was the Apothecarium of Horace E. F. Slughorn, now open for business.

Inside, the portly old witch puttered about a dozen or so cauldrons, humming quietly to himself as he added a pinch of this or a dash of that. While a younger and less-experienced brewer would hew closely to a written recipe, carefully measuring out each ingredient and confirming each step twice before proceeding, Slughorn had long passed that step. Like any skill, potionmaking became more instinctive with practice. Just as a skilled driver did not need to consciously think about stepping on the accelerator, or a skilled marksman did not need to consciously order his muscles to squeeze a trigger, so too did Slughorn not need a recipe or a cup to tell him when seven pinches of basil or six counterclockwise stirs would suffice.

So curious colors and fantastic smells filled the air, all different but never quite in painful opposition, as Slughorn prepared the first of his stock for his new business.

Now Open.

B. A Well-Earned Rest.

Evening found Slughorn quite comfortable enshrined in a comfortable corner of a tavern, a pint on the table by his side and fingers digging through a tin of crystallized pineapple for the finest pieces. Not an unusual sight, unless one were other than human. The same spells that protected his sign also protected the chair he had casually smuggled in earlier in the day. The ordinary patrons, the bartender, the passers-by all saw it as just another wooden affair that seemed lucky it could bear the witch's weight -- never suspecting the true form that keener eyes could see, a comfortable armchair well-suited for a man of his age and girth.

Part of Slughorn's good cheer, then, came from getting one over on the mundanes. But to those who could see the truth, well, it was hard to ask for a more incongruous sight.
hallapologies: (no choice may ours to be)


[personal profile] hallapologies 2015-06-11 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
A freckled Irish creature enters the shop, currently being swallowed by an oversized sweater. Her hair is tucked up into a cabbie hat, obscuring all but a glimmer of silver. A pair of sunglasses loom large in front of her face, and she hesitates at the door as if looking for someone. But since no one else is in the shop, she takes off her sunglasses, revealing facial tattoos characteristic of a particular coven, and starts roaming the shop, examining spell components and potions like she's looking for something specific.
Edited 2015-06-11 18:12 (UTC)
rules_winter: (cape)

B. No rest for the wicked

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-06-13 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
The door to the tavern jingles, the bell sounding oddly less tinny and more crystalline as a woman walks through the door seeming to bring in a cool breeze, odd for this time of year. The people closest to the door actually sigh at the relief from the heat though for some reason no one seems to turn their head to look. She wears a ladies suit in a dark grey, white hair pulled up loosely at the crown of her head and is oddly wearing gloves. Her eyes scan the room for the magical signature she'd felt from outside and finally settled on the man in the corner. Ahh. This explains some things.

Moving through the tables and patrons, she brings that sense of coolness with her and it drifts in her wake like a soothing balm. Her hand touches a woman carrying a tray of drinks making her pause as Mab leans in to murmur in her ear before continuing on, her expression more blank than before.

The woman stops next to Slughorn and slowly smiles down at him.
rules_winter: (buisness casual)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-06-15 04:57 pm (UTC)(link)
"It is early yet, Witch Horace Slughorn. Stay a moment." her hand settles gently on his own, above his tin of pineapple candy, like a lover's might. In anyone else the gesture would calm. "It has been some time since last we spoke. A situation which really must be remedied." As the waitress approached their table and put down two mugs of Guinness, Mab lifted her hand if not her eyes. "I have procured some of the best local fare. It is customary to accept such things is it not?" And it was safer for him than anything Mab might have brought herself.

She wouldn't know if it actually was the best but apparently the waitress believed so as it was the request that had been made of her. The woman turned at left, looking as though she was just waking up a little, eyes clearing.

rules_winter: (aren't you interesting)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-06-17 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
She laughed and it rang through the room yet it only caused a few uninterested glances, she was definitely veiling. Her hand moved to slip along his jaw, like the touch of a lover though it wouldn't follow if he jerked back. "Come now my sweet, aging witch. I find you beautiful as you are." She breathed in deeply, as though smelling the sweetest air before breathing back out and moving to sit across from him on one of the wooden chairs. Mab tilted her head as she settled, looking him over. "Your years show your experiences like a roadmap." Leaning in and fixing him with an intense gaze. "So many experiences filling your cup of life."

Her eyes narrowed and suddenly the cold snapped in around them, frosting their cups over though the liquid still moved inside them. "Yesss." It came out a hiss. It was difficult to tell if that was all anger or partially anticipation. Like she might like to take a metaphysical swing at anyone who might dare try to banish her. "Tell me, Horace Slughorn, have you sealed any gates lately?"

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emotioneater: (Default)


[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-06-15 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
It's not Cooper's eyes that lead him to the apothecary as night began to fall, but his nose. He could smell the most interesting things wafting out of the door and couldn't help stepping over the threshold to see what was inside. While his sense of smell wasn't as keen as werewolf's, who probably would've been able to pick out the individual ingredients within the potions, he could still identify several of them by the peculiar odors they were wafting off.

"It's been a while since I've smelt some of these."
emotioneater: (See here missy)

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-06-15 08:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh yes. When you've been around as long as I have, you tend t'pick up on certain things." Witches may have come and gone, but the potions and spells tended to remain the same.

With that hint given as to his true nature, the vampire walked over to the nearest cauldron, gazing at the dark liquid that was brewing inside. Cooper knew this one all too well. Most vampires who fed off the willing had run into it at one point or another. He suspected Nancy used it quite often, considering the line of business she was working in. "Blood replenisher, am I right?"
emotioneater: (Looking down)

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-06-24 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
Cooper shrugged as he flicked a finger off the side of the cauldron, listening to the metallic Ping! It might do to have a little of this around the house the next time he had a guest over for dinner. He could get carried away sometimes, despite the lid he had on his self-control. "How much is it going for?"
warmheartedly: (a proud moment;)

[ A ]

[personal profile] warmheartedly 2015-06-15 05:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Now this is something that wasn't here before. Though the stroll through this part of the city was meant to be a quick one, a simple stretch of her legs so to speak, Clara thinks that a little detour wouldn't hurt anyone too badly like a ghost. What can happen to her at this point? Undeath her?

... Though, to be on the safe side, Clara hovers around the shop to be sure there are no dangerous wards or spells to keep spirits like her away through aggressive means. It doesn't seem to have any.

Well-- Here goes nothing.

"Excuse me," she says out of habit as she phases through the door, more manners than mind at the point as she peers around in curiosity. "Oh! Everything here looks so interesting."

The times she wishes she could smell again. The colours alone were a delight to her eyes, causing a smile to form on her lips, and times like these simply made her remember that there were good reasons to still be lingering here. This? This is a wonderful reason.
warmheartedly: (a gossip piece;)

[personal profile] warmheartedly 2015-06-16 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Now that gets her attention away from the interesting things around her. "Oh! I'm so sorry."

He could see her after all! She looks sheepish for barging in now, grateful that she at least had the decency to announce herself before coming in. Why does she keep forgetting that the supernatural community was much larger than she though? You think she'll learn by now that she should take into account of all the people she keeps running across who can see her perfectly fine.

Ah, details.

"Um-- Yes and no. In a way." She looks a bit flustered as she tries to put herself together, taking a 'breath' to calm herself. "I was passing by and I noticed this. It certainly wasn't here before so I presume that this is all new, sir."
warmheartedly: (a cup of sugar;)

[personal profile] warmheartedly 2015-06-22 12:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"The seventeen hundreds? Goodness! That is a long time to not have had a part of the family business running here." Judging by her surprise to hear the year alone, and the modern clothes she wore from her sensible flats to her blouse, she's very much a ghost from 'recent' times. "So you're saying all of this--"

She gestures to the items and looks around, peering at the bottles and items with wide eyes. "--are all part of a family business? I must say that's quite impressive, sir."

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entitles: (tch)


[personal profile] entitles 2015-06-18 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Balem could recognize magic when he saw it, although he was no witch. He wouldn't usually bother associating with witches - not unless they had summoned him - but he knew some of them weren't all that fond of Redbright.

Of course, although he could tell a witch was a witch, he hadn't spent enough time around them to know who was aligned with Redbright and who wasn't. He'd just have to try his luck.

"Hello!" he said as he entered, friendly enough in tone and dressed in a regular navy-blue suit that made him look a bit less other-worldly, "Nice little shop you've got here."
entitles: (how about we make a deal)

[personal profile] entitles 2015-06-19 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh, I know," he said with a friendly smile, "Anyways, I'm just thankful to find a place like this. I haven't been here for very long and I'm not really in the know when it comes to the magical community here."

He chooses his words carefully: he couldn't really say that he was new in town, but as his age he really didn't consider a few centuries to be very long, an he wasn't too familiar with the magical community beyond the fact that Redbright was annoying him.
entitles: (how could this happen to me)

[personal profile] entitles 2015-06-21 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Of course, of course," he said with a wave of his hand, "Anyways, I'm looking for something that's a little hard to come by, but I've got means to pay for it if you'd happen to have it. I can pay quite well, actually."

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