Man About Town [Open]

[jointheclub]

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.

Comments

A

[hallapologies]

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.

[jointheclub]

"Welcome, welcome." Slughorn turned to face her with a jovial smile on his face, already appraising the girl from keen eyes that hid in a fairly benign look. Only those who could see the sign would enter, after all, which meant she was already special in some way. The question was, in what way?

"Welcome to my apothecarium," he repeated, setting aside the large clove of garlic he was chopping. "Something I can help you with?"

B. No rest for the wicked

[rules_winter]

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.

[jointheclub]

Content as the old witch was, he was paying little attention to his environment except for casual people-watching. Always a laugh, watching the mundanes go about their business, and he did enjoy putting one over on them in this fashion. Magic right in their midst and them none the wiser!

By the time the breath of cool air reached him, then, it was too late. Recognizing it and his own doom in one, he practically upended his tub of pineapple, and quickly snatched at it with both hands.

"Merlin's beard!" he said in a bright, false tone. "Is that the time? I really ought to be getting back home, must get my beauty sleep and all..."

[rules_winter]

"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.

[jointheclub]

"It's early for you," Slughorn groused as he settled back into his chair, well aware that he couldn't truly hope to escape Mab without a greater effort than he dared put forth. "Some of us physically age, you know. The body doesn't work as well, the mind gets tired, and the beauty rest counts for more and more."

Fine words for someone who'd accrued well over a century, thanks to his art, and yet didn't look anything like it. But still true.

"Surely you've better things to do than spend time with a battered old man like me. Handsome young men to seduce. Mischief to cause. That sort of thing. You know if you get caught around here there'll be a to-do about it. Banishing rituals, sealing of the gates..." His hands flittered about in midair, trying to convey the level of nuisance that would be for the fae. He wouldn't be talking, of course, not unless she forced his hand. Slughorn knew better than to match himself against her for anything less than the most urgent reasons.

[rules_winter]

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?"

[jointheclub]

"You always did lay it on too thick." Slughorn tried and failed not to squirm a little, though whether that was caused by her potential anger or her lavish flattery, even he couldn't say. Oh, he didn't think for a second that Mab wouldn't stoop to, ah, physical inducements if she thought they were necessary to get what she wanted, but she hardly needed to and certainly wouldn't want to for any reason beyond playing with her food, so to speak.

"I've been up north, you know that." Whether or not she did, it was an easy and obvious guess with him. "No need to get involved in that sort of thing up there."

A

[emotioneater]

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."

[jointheclub]

"Ah, but you have smelled them before, then." Slughorn turned from his last cauldron with a chuckle, beaming a polite and welcoming smile that didn't reach his eyes. Every new customer was a tricky situation, after all; he had to quickly establish who and what he was dealing with.

[emotioneater]

"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?"

[jointheclub]

"You do know a thing or two after all." Between that particular potion and the hint at age, he had more than enough information to add wormwood and asphodel and come up halfway to the Draught of Living Death.

Well. Some vampires weren't bad sorts -- he'd known one or two he'd invite to a party, if they were well spoken of and could stay off the other guests. Reserving judgment, he twiddled his fingers absently at the brewing mix. "Keeps well, that. Never want to have to use it, never regret having plenty made ahead of time."

[emotioneater]

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?"

[jointheclub]

"Depends on your currency. Gold is preferable, gold and silver -- always have value no matter who you're giving it too, after all. Matters in the business. If we really must deal with... mundane currency..." Slughorn made a face as if he'd swallowed something bitter. "There's a surcharge for the conversion. Reasonable, of course. And it also depends on quantity."

Slughorn left himself a great deal of leeway when it came to negotiations like this, but in the end he maintained a practical viewpoint. Better a vampire have it and use it than not have it and not use it.

[ A ]

[warmheartedly]

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.

[jointheclub]

"Welcome, welcome -- " The portly man turned away from a cauldron with an absent flick at the great spoon handle that protruded from it, confusion written on his face. That vanished as soon as he spied the woman who had entered. "Ah! No wonder I hadn't heard you enter. And here I was, worried that my hearing was giving about."

Slughorn chortled as if he had made a great joke and was terribly proud of himself. "Scouting the area, I presume? Seeing what's changed?"

[warmheartedly]

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."

[jointheclub]

"Everything old is new again, they say. I don't believe there's been a branch of the family apothecarium in London since... oh, 1779 or so? Great-great-uncle of mine, give or take a great. Never married, though. No point it continuing it once he passed." Slughorn rambled on as he swept a cauldron to the side with a casual air, leaving its contents to reduce over a low fire. "So, might as well be new, eh?"

He took the time during this verbal performance to appraise her. Bit old to have passed on and left an imprint this way, so his question was a casual way of feeling out her true age. No terrible presence, not obviously malicious. Still, she might have an agenda...

[warmheartedly]

"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."

[jointheclub]

"Oh, not here here. The line hails from up north and all. A lot of business by --" He paused, coughed, and dug up the mundane term very quickly in that moment. "Mail order. Good, reliable potions and elixirs are always in demand by those in the know, after all."

A

[entitles]

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."

[jointheclub]

"Good afternoon!" the jovial old witch called out, his voice somewhat muffled and reverberating because he was directing it into the cauldron he was leaning over. "Just a second, just a second..."

Easy enough to say that Slughorn's simple addition of one sole leaf to the brew didn't merit the concentration and focus he was granting the task, particularly since he just seemed to drop it in without any care at all. Still, the effort must have been satisfying, for Slughorn clapped his hands together in pleasure as he straightened up, then turned to face his new arrival.

"Just a little hobby, a way to keep myself in pockey money, you know."

[entitles]

"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.

[jointheclub]

"That's the key to business, isn't it? Find a need and fill it. Just a hobby, though, a little way to pass the time in my old age. Keeps me in mead and all." Slughorn lifted a nearby mug in a toast to the sentiment. Brewing was thirsty work, after all.

If that little speech didn't urge his customer to speak about his own business, well, he'd have to be a little less subtle in drawing out the information.

[entitles]

"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."