undergrounds | 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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Wednesday gives a nod, understanding, and hands over a blue fabric bound volume.

"Some more obscure tracking spells are contained in here," she explains. "They've fallen out of use, and thus people forget to protect against them."

That sounds considerably more promising. He takes the book, running his hands over the cover as he looks at it for a second.

"I'll take it." He'll take it back to his office, have someone he trusts look over it and see if they think any of the information inside will help him.

He moves over to the till and pulls out his wallet.

"Is this your first job?" he says with a small smile.

"First in London," Wednesday says, in a rather off-hand manner. Her old job, back home, had been in the bakery. She had been fired, after the fire. She began to ran up the book, checking the title against the prices.

"£19.99," she said. "Would you be wanting a bag?" It may have been a slimmer volume, but it was harder to find, hence the price.

Cesare gives Wednesday a look that makes it clear that he thinks the price is a bit much, particularly for some small old book. But he nevertheless pulls out the money and hands it to her.

"No thank you." He picks up the book and slips it into his jacket pocket. He doesn't want questions from anyone, asking what he bought.

It's a harder to find volume - though not impossible. The owner has a few particular copies of this one, hence why she can let it be sold. However, since the other copies have been squirreled away and that was the only one on the shelf, she will not react to the look. She does pause, and tilts her head at the man.

"Cesare Borgia."

She had been wondering why the face was familiar, and now she could recall the name to put to it.

Cesare laughs slightly and looks down, quirking an eyebrow. He just about resists rolling his eyes, though only barely.

"You figured it out?" He's surprised she took this long, to be honest. It's not like he's the president of the city or anything.

"What gave it away?"

"Uncle Voro's description was rather... vivid." Wednesday replied with typical monotone nature. Honestly, the only reason it took so long was because Uncle Voro had been very insistent on the fact that Cesare would likely still don priestly robes if he was in London. That he was President of the Night Council...

Well, no, Uncle Voro wouldn't be surprised. He never was.

"Voro....I haven't heard that name for a long time," Cesare says with a smile, still not quite understanding what Wednesday is telling him. After all, the chances of such a coincidence are slim. To be honest, Cesare just thinks Wednesday is a little kooky. He's just trying to be polite.

"He did die quite a while ago," Wednesday agrees. "He's buried in London, however, so I've been speaking with him a lot while here." Because an Addams will always introduce themselves to their ancestors. Family is family, after all. "He sends his best wishes."

Finally Cesare is beginning to understand. His eyes narrow as he looks at her, thinking.

"Surely you don't mean...? Voro from Pisa? How can I speak with him?"

That was an odd question.

"Generally when I wish to speak with an ancestor, I dance on their grave," she tells him in all seriousness. There's a pause, and she considers. "I could arrange a meeting."

There's a moment's hesitation (after all, wtf???), but he eventually nods.

"Ok. Yes. Thank you. Let's see where this goes." He's curious and if he gets to speak with an old friend then that's a bonus.

"When would be an appropriate time for you?" It was a necessary thing to know, after all.

"After work. Or on a weekend. Either works for me. Do I need to go somewhere in particular?" You know, like a grave? This had better not be a trap.

Wednesday carefully writes down the graveyard, and location of Voro's crypt on a scrap of paper which she then hands over to Cesare. "Do not lose this, I will not give it out again."

Cesare quirks an eyebrow at Wednesday's statement. He doesn't like it. He finds it rude. She should remember who she's talking to.

"And why is that?" he asks as politely as he can muster while irritated, taking the card.

And he would do well to remember who he is talking to. Voro might have been one of the more affable members of the family, but he still had their preferences for play.

"Uncle Voro would be very annoyed to have just anyone show up at his crypt." Plus, technically, inviting your dead family members to come to the mortal world was... skirting close to something actually illegal. Possibly.

"It is a good thing we are friends then," Cesare responds with a slightly forced smile, but he's trying to be polite. He would like to see his friend, even if this rude girl is the facilitator. She's still the facilitator.

"So Uncle Voro says," Wednesday replied with the briefest look. Frankly, she doesn't care if he finds her rude, most people do.

Darkness and the City

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