Darkness and the City

[outofthemanor]

1. At Work
The bookshop that Wednesday works in is not so much as shop as it is a storage place for the owner's rather extensive collection of books. Since said owner is rather loathe to part with any of his precious collection, having Wednesday as a member of staff works quite well, as for some odd reason people are rather reluctant to make a purchase from her. So instead, she works on arranging the shelves, keeping them in good order and adding new items as and when they arrive.

Today, she is concentrating on the occult section, idly leafing through one of the books she is trying to arrange. The information isn't half bad - the author actually seemed to understand what it was they were talking about and she would smile if that was something she did. A ring of a bell drew her attention - the door had been opened.

"Do you require assistance?"


2. Market Time
It's her day off, and this is really one of the first times Wednesday has been able to look at some of the many markets London has to offer. She doubts that the mystic stall she passed has anything of real value, but there are some things that could possibly be used. The antiques interest her a little more, though sadly there's no weaponry. She hadn't been able to bring some of her favourites from the manor because of airport security rules and she found she was missing them. She'd need to see about finding a proper smith.

Still, it is rather fun, to wander about the market with no real purpose in mind. Even if people do keep muttering 'goth' when they see her dark parasol. She's going to curse the next person who says that.


3. Night Walk
London is at it's best at night, Wednesday believes. There's a hum from the city - ambitions, hopes, dreams, fears, and nightmares - that anyone could feel and at night it seems to be amplified. She strolls easily down a darkened street, not particularly bothered that the street lights aren't at their best. There's a pleasant chill in the air and it reaches the bones in such a comforting way. The sound of footsteps behind her isn't anything, either. They were just footsteps, after all.

"Are you following me, or are we merely headed in the same direction?"

Until they were introduced, that was.

Comments

2

[thelastjoy]

Whereas Wednesday may be a vision in black, Girl was her opposite in a clash of bright colors. She more or less blends into the crowd, even if the marker stains on her jeans and scruffy appearance gets a few disapproving looks. But it's nothing like the looks Wednesday's getting. The glares and muttering draw her attention. When Wednesday pauses near the wares Girl had been staring at, she turns with a hesitant smile.

She feels bad about the mocking whispers, she could only imagine the other girl would feel the same. It wouldn't hurt to offer a little commiseration.

"You'd think they'd never seen an umbrella before, way they act."

[outofthemanor]

The mocking comments are ... annoying, mostly. Irritating also comes to mind. Any hurt that could have possibly been felt has long since been learned to not appear when people show such small-minded behaviour. She does turn slightly at the voice, and the soft comment.

"A feat considering the rainfall London experiences each year," she said, giving a small nod. A quick glance at the girl suggests the look of an artist, and while bright colours are not her particular taste, she can at least admire that this person seems to have some spark of creativity.

"It would also seem to be new information that paint stains certain fabrics," she said. "Today must be a very educational day for them."

[thelastjoy]

Girl snorts, ducking her head to cover her smile. "Maybe they don't recognize one without the dark clouds. Shows a lack of imagination for 'em, huh?"

She swipes her hand over her jeans absently. It does nothing to remove the stains, color set in from time and wear. She tilts her head back up, still smiling. "They'd hate to meet some of my friends. This is nothin' compared to 'em." Maybe because her packmate was a real artist and didn't have someone at home to complain about the laundry.

"Lucky we both came out to teach the masses," she says, a teasing note in her voice. "People can't go without knowin' simple stuff like that."

[outofthemanor]

"Then our duty is to teach the ignorant," Wednesday agreed. She moved the parasol slightly, just to add better shade from the sun. "I was taught that it was rude to mutter about people, perhaps that haven't had those lessons." She could teach them, with reinforcement. She'd hit someone every time they were impolite.

1

[ghoulaid]

Ghoul looks up and casts the bell a resentful look. He'd wanted to slip inside quietly. That's been ruined, though, so he's stuck answering what he assumes to be the employee's question. "No."

Except, now that the question actually sinks in, he realizes he has no idea where to start, so. "Uh, yes." Then again, her assistance means he'll have to explain his issue to her, and that could be weird. "...Maybe."

Ugh. Books are hard. Fuck books.

[outofthemanor]

She reshelves the book she's holding carefully, descending from the small set of ladders when done. Moving over to the front of the shop, she stands perfectly still, hands resting at ease on top of each other.

"Then I will assist." It's not a request. "What manner of reading material are you looking for? Pleasure or business?"

[ghoulaid]

She's very still, and it's weird. Just looking at her gives him the urge to fidget.

"Business." That question is easy enough, because he's not doing all of this for fun. He hasn't decided what to make of his affliction yet- all he wants to do right now is make sure he's not going to end up dead or turned in to a fucking toad. "D'you got somethin' on like... magical accidents, I guess?"

That's a pretty broad subject, so yikes. It's a place to start, though.

[outofthemanor]

Wednesday is silent, considering his words against the titles she knows are in stock.

"Deliberate accidents or truly accidental?"

3

[morevacant]

"No," Lydia certainly isn't following such a weirdly dressed person. She herself is dressed in a pretty blue body con number and the highest heels that allow her to traipse across the bridge to the nearest Tube station. It might be late, but for Lydia, the night is only just beginning, and she clutches her Aldi bag of knock off vodka. She's on her way to a friend's house for pre-drinks and partying.

She turns her nose up as she passes Wednesday. "As if I'd be following you. You'd only be going to that skanky grime club or something dressed like that!" She doesn't say it offensively. She doesn't mean to cause offence at all! In her mind, she's just stating the obvious.

[outofthemanor]

There was no reaction to Lydia's comments, though Wednesday would raise her eyebrow, were she inclined to do such a thing. She took in the appearance and the heels. An appropriate weapon.

"Grime can be found in many places, other than clubs," she said, "Grandmama was fond of the grime on her cooking cauldron. It added such taste to broths."

[morevacant]

"That's disgusting." But the use of the word 'cauldron' has captured Lydia's interest, and she stops.

"Are you a witch? You know we don't have to dress all in black any more, don't you?" Lydia's seen the pictures. Ew. Hideous!

[outofthemanor]

"Tradition is such for a reason," Wednesday points out. "Bright colours are for those with no inner light." A sentiment that her Mother often shared with her, and that Wednesday felt full truth in. There was a moment, and then she nodded.

"Yes, I am of the craft."

1!

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl was more than a little surprised to recognize the scent that permeated the shop as one from a fancy sortie. The voice calling in question only confirmed he wasn't having a flash of deja vu. He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised. Plenty of witches worked at shops like these, but still... that one in particular had struck him as someone that wouldn't do something so... well, normal.

Sucking it up, he headed further in and nodded, "Yeah. Need a book an breaking curses. You got anything worth looking at?"

[outofthemanor]

"It would depend on what sort of curse we're speaking of," Wednesday answered. "Simple ones can generally get by with any sort of general reversal spell, but the more complex, the more effort is needed."

She actually really likes working in the bookshop. The owner is a good boss who pays her well, and lets her borrow some of the rarer volumes from his collection. The shop itself is always quite dull and cool, which is very preferable when the sun is being it's irritating self. And, generally speaking, since the boss is a little reluctant to sell off the books, she can be rude if she wants to be. It's a good job.

[dirtyredneck]

He shifted his weight a bit, clearly uncomfortable in what felt like a confining space even if it wasn't and he could leave at any time. Gave a shrug of one shoulder, "Ain't sure how complicated it is. Was put on someone when she was a kid by some Fae. Trying ta remove it since the fae she's gone to ain't been cooperative."

[outofthemanor]

Wednesday paused.

"Magic created by a Fae can only be removed by another of that kind," she said slowly. "It's one of their quirks. Cruel but fair, in their sense of morality. Interesting, in mine." She turns to look at the books, skeptical in her gaze. "You would need a guide to London based Fae, and those who are sympathetic..." Walking along she pulled out a purple fabric covered volume, rubbing dust off it.

"Not exactly what you're looking for, but Fae tracking is a particular sport."

[longterm]

"Location tracking," says Cesare, dressed in a suit, smiling politely. "I need to find someone. No idea where they are. Do you have anything of the mystic variety on that topic?"

It's been hundreds of years, but Cesare has still not given up on finding his sister. Every so often, he'll see if there's any new resources he can try. It's likely all a wild goose chase, but he nonetheless doesn't intend to give up.

"...Are you new?" He hadn't seen her in this shop before.

[outofthemanor]

"Various volumes," she sounds almost bored with it, and waves a hand and the shelves to the left of her. "Third shelf, to the right." Location tracking... Annoyingly pedestrian. In terms of what people came in searching for. Perhaps she should rearrange to have them on a table near the door. It would have her having to deal with the asinine questions about them.

"In what context?" Wednesday inquired. "I am a relatively new hire to the shop, correct. I suppose it could also be claimed that I am relatively new to the Earth."

[longterm]

Ah. Ok. So this girl is a weird one. Cesare doesn't quite know how to react to her. He settles for a half polite laugh, half eye roll and moves to look at the shelves that Wednesday has directed him to.

"Anything new?" he asks as he eyes the shelves. "I need to locate someone who doesn't want to be found." Though that's all the information he wants to give her just yet. It would be a bit difficult and uncomfortable to explain, and wouldn't help his reputation at all.

1. At Work

[redshoerevenge]

The occult section is totally where Mako wants to be and she nods for a moment, her eyes scanning the shelves. There are so many things to look at, some not what she needs, some just fascinating in general. She stands at an unconscious parade rest.

"I'm looking for lore on fae and fae charms, particular around the London isles," Mako says very quietly. "Is that something you would have in this place or is it too specialised?"

[outofthemanor]

This girl must be an acquaintance of the man who was in earlier, looking for information on Fae magic. Wednesday directs her to the shelves in question.

"Though, of course, it's all hearsay depending on what the Fae are willing to reveal and what a fortunate few have been able to discover." There's a pause. "Though on a Fae can remove Fae magic.

[redshoerevenge]

"It is a bit of a problem," Mako says softly. "Correlating the necessary information to sort through hearsay is the best I can do."

Her fingers are delicate against the spines of the books. Most she knows well but there's always the off-chance she might find something new. A tiny book has as much value as a larger one if only for the information it might reveal. Something truly obscure could change everything after all.

"It has been slow work," she murmurs, "but necessary."

1

[fungi_notpunny]

Ellie shuffles in, looking very out of place. She has an earbud in one ear and a flannel shirt that looks beaten up and a bit too big. Her jeans are torn--not in the fashionable way, but in a way that suggests they're old. They're certainly not current fashion, either.

"Um, yeah..." The face says young, literally everything else says old. Or maybe just eccentric. Ellie sniffs a little, and she can smell traces of at least one werewolf and a lot of other smells that she's starting to learn mean supernatural. That means she's in the right place, probably. The bookstore that has at least semi-accurate stuff about supernaturals, supposedly.

She eyes Wednesday, and wonders what kind of supernatural she is. A witch? It seemed a little stereotypical--like expecting Ellie to go around with a bunch of hair growing out of everywhere. Not that it really matters, as long as she doesn't think Ellie is crazy.

"I'm looking for stuff about werewolves--or like, werewolf lineage?" None of the East End pack had recognized her birth mark from any family. Ellie isn't desperate for the information, but she's curious and has time to kill.

So. Here she is. The lady is dressed very nicely, even if it's an old style. It makes Ellie feel a bit self-conscious.

[outofthemanor]

There's a tilt to her head as Wednesday turns to glance at the books. Werewolf lineage... That's a subject she hasn't heard being studied for a while, and she runs her fingers along the spines as she considers each in turn.

"For which region?"

[fungi_notpunny]

"British isles," Ellie says, mostly because it's geographically close. She eyes the books that Wednesday is poking at. "Do you know if they have, uh, pictures of the birthmarks? Or descriptions?"

Just family names aren't really going to get her anywhere, especially if her father was the one with the curse. Her mother might have had it, but that meant her mother would have had moonlight jewelry. That suggested resources that went beyond one fucking friend who'd left Ellie to the foster system.

Ellie kicks her toe into the floor, and wonders if this is really a good idea. Even if she finds it, there's not going to be a location attached. What would she even do if she knew who her father was?

Still, curiosity drives her forward.