undergrounds | Darkness and the City

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Darkness and the City

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.

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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."

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."

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."

"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.

"Must have been raised in barns, the lot of 'em." Like she had any right to talk. Being raised by literal wolves didn't make for excellent manners. But it did teach her better than to talk about other's behind backs. Most of the time, those people could hear you. "Plan on just showin' your shade off until they get the picture?"

"My Cousin Dephilia was raised in the barn. She has far better manners." Dephilia was a wolf as well, just the Addams streak of politness rang true. She looked at the girl and gave the slightest shrug of indifference. "What I do, I do because I don't like too much sun. What do I care what small minded people think?"

"Oh." She steps back awkwardly, blushing a little. "I didn't mean anythin' by that."

Smooth move, already insulting someone when she was trying to be nice.

"You shouldn't." Girl says, angling herself back towards the stall they'd stopped near. "Can't say anythin' about stayin' out of the sun, lived in the desert were there was nothin' but sun, but what you do ain't no one else's business. They just got borin' lives, needin' to gossip 'bout every out of the blue thing they see."

She looks. "I didn't assume you did. You had no way of knowing, I was just giving an example."

Honestly, she can jump down people's throats, by her own admittance, but this girl had simply used a common phrase. It must be the way that the ignorant kept muttering - it did make people extremely skittish.

"Exactly," she agreed. "I wonder if they were to see something actually surprising, would they gossip so much?" There's a small vial in her bag, it would be... surprising.

"Still. Sorry," she mutters, sticking her hands in her pockets. She clears her throat, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

"Depends on what you call surprising'." She cocks her head to the side, considering. "You got somethin' in mind? I guess givin' somethin' new to stare at would teach 'em to shut up for a while."

Wednesday opened her bag, glancing briefly inside. "I have dynamite caps, some flares... All basic but enough to cheer people up." Because who didn't love a small explosion during the day? She roots around. "I have some interesting smoke bombs..." Those were in the vials. She had developed the particular version of that spell as a child. Harmless. Perhaps a little smelly.

"Dynamite?" She echoes, looking around to make sure no one had heard. Girl liked explosions as much as the next person, but would that hurt people? She bites her lip, stumbling over her words to talk about the other bombs. "Smoke bombs? That sounds cool. Used to play with stuff kinda like that as a kid."

It's not a lie and it sounds a lot safer. And more entertaining. "What makes 'em so interestin'?"

Edited 2017-06-13 17:36 (UTC)

"The colour of the smoke changes every three seconds," Wednesday shrugs. "Not particularly interesting, but getting the mixture right was a challenge of precision." She had wanted the smoke to spark but the mixture proved a little too unstable to let her do so. "There's also a stink bomb element to it, that will give a different smell to different people. Whatever makes them feel the most ill."

"Sounds interestin' enough." It's nothing Girl has ever managed to do, so the idea Wednesday had made it herself was impressive. The thought showed on her face. "You into chemistry or somethin'? Pretty cool to do yourself."

The thought hadn't occurred to her that the mixture might be of magical origin. Se's still not used to the supernatural being around every corner.

"Though if were gonna gross up this place we might wanna move downwind."

"As it happens, I am. Among other things." Chemistry had actually proven quite a useful subject when combined with the studies of the craft. After all, knowing why two substances will cause a certain reaction helps to provide much more effective potion making, with much less waste. Magical residue was as dangerous to the Earth as any other form of waste, and she did want the planet to continue for a while longer.

Downwind... "Lead the way."

"Other things?" Girl asks, keeping her tone casual. She looks at Wednesday a moment before turning to look around. The way she tilts her head back makes it appear, momentarily, like she's scenting the air. She gestures to the right of them, taking a few steps.

"We stay over here, you throw that way." She points in the opposite direction. "Unless the wind whips up, we should be good."

"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.

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."

"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...

"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."

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

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."

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

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

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

"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."

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