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

[ghoulaid]

"Yeah, 'course." It's an auto-pilot answer. He doesn't know jack shit about tailoring spells, but it makes sense. Everyone is a unique little snowflake that requires their own individual snowflake cure.

"So, that seems like a pretty good place to start. I'll just go with that one for now, I guess." One book at a time, for his own sake more than anything. He feels like he's been researching so much shit lately... ugh. This place is no good for him.

[outofthemanor]

"It's £10.99 and 5 pence if you need a bag," Wednesday tells him, moving towards the cash register.

[outofthemanor]

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in most philosophies." It's a deliberate misquote, and she knows it, but she also knows better than to publicly announce the existence of the craft in any real sense of the word.

She nods, and walks in the direction pointed out. Causally, she throws the vial over her shoulder.

[ghoulaid]

"I don't need a bag." Ghoul trails after her like a clueless duckling. After reaching the counter, he digs out actual notes and a couple coins rather than a card to pay her with. As much as he enjoys the convenience of cards, he's gotten out of the habit of using them since he can't exactly get his obviously-fake name stamped on them.

"Uh, thanks, too." For the help, that is. He surely would have walked out of here with something weird and useless if he'd been left to it on his own.

[outofthemanor]

"Please come again," Wednesday hands over the book after taking the payment. Personally, she's not much of a fan of cards - too easy to clone. "And no need to thank me, my job is to help." She notes down the sale in the book beside the register. "I hope you're able to remove the spell aftermath on yourself."

[thelastjoy]

Girl makes a confused noise and muses idly. "What's that mean?"

She resists the urge to cover her face with her sleeve, even if they're far enough they shouldn't get the brunt of the blast. She turns to watch what disaster the vial causes, keeping herself angled away and only looking from the corner of her eye. She doesn't want to draw too much attention to the two of them. The second the smoke starts unfurling in the air, Girl laughs under her breath. "Time for the show."

[ghoulaid]

He nods as he takes the book in his hands, turning it over a time or two and opening it up to a few random pages, checking it out a little. His attention is divided between the book and her, so he slips up. He answers her well-wishing with, "Yeah, me too."

And then he realizes what he's done. His head jerks back up and he looks at her all horrified like he's just accidentally admitted to being D.B. Cooper or something. "No, it's not- I mean-" Fuck. He goes silent for a few seconds and then he snaps the book shut, all red-faced when he finally mumbles, "I'll let you know how it goes." Then he slinks out of the store before anything else can be said, because fuck.

[outofthemanor]

You might think Wednesday was smirking from that.

But of course, you're wrong.

She doesn't smirk.

Often.

[outofthemanor]

"Generally speaking? That the world is more complex that people give it credit for."

Wednesday gives a nod of agreement, watching the crowds carefully. It's slow, at first, but then the smells start to settle in...

[thelastjoy]

"I can agree with that, just don't get what it has to do with makin' smoke bombs."

She has to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing louder as the shouting starts. Stuffy older couples screaming at vendors about the smell, people running to get away from it- it's a chaotic scene. And with no one is paying much attention to the two young women standing by, strange fashion or otherwise. "I think they've forgot 'bout you."

[outofthemanor]

"How small their minds must be." But the way it's said, even through the monotone. You might just think there's amusement there.

[thelastjoy]

She snorts at the dry tone, shaking her head. "Attention spans of gold fish. 'lest you got some revenge out of it."

Girl smiles, inclining her head toward Wednesday in acknowledgement. "Pretty cool lil' concoction there. Don't think I caught the name of the person who made it. If ya feel like sharin."

[outofthemanor]

"Wednesday Addams," she said. "What do people call you?"

[longterm]

To be honest, Cesare is well aware of the capabilities and limitations of tracking someone magically. He's been hunting for his sister for hundreds of years to no avail. It seems that she's very keen indeed on not being found.

He runs his fingers along the spines of the books, finding the book that she suggested and pulling it out to look at it.

"How familiar are you with tracking spells, Ms....?" he says, searching for her to say her name.

[outofthemanor]

"Wednesday Addams," she says. "I'm familiar enough." It's a very neutral answer, to be quite honest. "I prefer the actual thing to spells."

[thelastjoy]

"Nice to meet ya, Wednesday." She thrusts out a hand. "Most people just call me Girl. Last name Nobel."

[outofthemanor]

Wednesday shakes the hand offered. "A straightforward name. Useful."

[thelastjoy]

"Or maybe just proof my family weren't creative with the nicknames." She shakes her hand, laughing. It's nice not to get a strange look for the name. Her smile warms. "At least it's hard to forget."

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 long look at her. "My name is a day of the week."

She likes her name but she feels it makes a good point.

[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.

[thelastjoy]

"Yeah. But I wouldn't call it common. Never heard anyone named after a day before." Which she supposes could be due to not getting out much. "And I'd call it pretty easy to remember."

[outofthemanor]

British Isles... Wednesday considers the books, taking the further request into her consideration. She glances upwards. Right. She needs the ladders to get it.

[outofthemanor]

"Only line in the poem that was acceptable, according to Mother."