Masq - Contributions [en]

Alexandra - On Dreams/Log

2011-04-15T13:46:50Z

Chaemera: Created page with 'Another day at the Antique Dealership, though with the shift in weather comes a shift in wares. Winter is coming, or as close this southern area gets, and so the clothing area at…'

Another day at the Antique Dealership, though with the shift in weather comes a shift in wares. Winter is coming, or as close this southern area gets, and so the clothing area at least is getting a bit of an overhaul. The decorative scarves and thin sundresses are in the process of being changed out for heavier coats, hats, gloves... You get the idea. Like the old military peacoat that Alexandra's settling into place on the racks right now, giving it a careful checking as she does so to make sure it hasn't suffered for its time in storage.

And here to ruin your beautiful afternoon is a Liane, followed by Danny, both of them apparently snacking on some sort of fried thing wrapped in napkins, easily eaten in the hands. When they walk in, Liane immediately looks for a books of any kind. It should also be noted that Liane doesn't look as if she's slept within the last two or three days...and doesn't look tired. Nope, she's still surrounded by that air of nervous, boiling energy (of a nonmagical, natural source) that makes it hard to sit still.

Looking up as the bell on the door rings, Alexandra grins as she spots the pair coming in, "Well, hello there. C'mon in." The fried thing being snacked on gets a bit of a Look, followed by the plaintive admonishment of "No fingerprints on the merchandise, please?"

As for Liane's search, there's an entire section devoted to nothing but books of various ages and subjects, ranging from practically Colonial histories to novels straight out of the hippy era. Oh, and also a cat, who's asleep atop an old edition of the Encyclopedia Brittanica, with one of his forepaws hanging out into the aisle.

Liane blushes but nods. Considering she's wearing her gloves (she's ALWAYS wearing gloves of some kind, really), she can follow the very letter of this command with ease! Danny herself also nods, and doesn't walk in at all. Just sort of leans against the wall near the door, nyomming. Liane herself happily heads to the book section, and seems to be looking for the oldest books there. Still, her librarian fingers twitch at their order, and she glances over at Alexandra. "Exc-c-cuse me. D-d-do you th-think you could h-help me f-f-find something on d-dreams? N-n-not like this." Liane says, motioning towards more modern book about the power of dreaming and positive thoughts. "S-s-something older might h-have more of what I am l-l-looking for."

They're not in extreme disarray, at least. Just not in library order. Looks more like they're clumped by subject, without worrying about which author or title goes before which. Giving the coat she's been fussing with a last brushing down with her hands, the shopkeep wanders over towards Liane with a nod, "Certainly. Were you looking for something about interpretation, or more of a scientific analysis?" And yes, there's an entire chunk of 60s era "power dreaming" style books. Don't look at them too hard, you might go tie-dyed.

"I'm l-l-looking for s-s-something on the n-n-nature of dreams." Liane explains to her delicious and rapidly disappearing fried snack. So close, Alexandra! For Liane is a proponent of the library of congress system! You were so close! "S-s-scientific? I s-s-suppose not very, th-though I b-b-believe their writers m-may think they are."

"Well, scientific in that they're more about theories as to what dreams actually are, instead of what it means when you have a dream about falling or somesuch," smiles Alexandra, staying just a bit outside arms' reach of the stuttering librarian. "I've got at least one book in here that tries to explain how dreams are simply the subconscious tapping the mic, only in much more complicated language." Then she laughs, "And at least one that goes on about conspiracy theories involving alien brain implants. It's a bit of a crapshoot, honestly."

Liane hmms. "Wh-what do you h-h-have in p-perhaps a f-f-folkloric bent? More occ-c-cult, I s-suppose." Her player sorries for the short icky poses, but is making breakfast!

That makes Alexandra pause and think for a moment, tapping a fingertip against her chin with narrowed eyes as she rummages her internal inventory. Hmmm... "I might have a few things. Over here," and she leads the way along the shelves before tugging a few volumes out from their neighbors, "This one's a collection of Slavic folktales about dreams and nightmares and such. Things like the Old Hag that sits on your chest. This one's much the same, but mostly Native American myths."

Liane seems pleased with these choices, finishing off the last of her fried treat (which smelled DELICIOUS because I am full of hunger) and then pulls off her gloves...to promptly be replaced with another, thinner set of gloves from a pocket. She takes one of the books -- only after Alexandra has backed again, and flips through the pages with interest. "S-slavic tales...I'm n-not entirely familiar with them." She murmurs, this sparking her interest. The Native American book gets eyed, too. "D-d-do any of them s-speak about d-dreaming itself? That is, the origin of d-d-dreams."

"Both of those talk a bit about that, I believe. Like, how the Native American tribes interviewed believed that certain spirits caused certain types of dreams. I think there's an entire preface in that one on the subject." Leaning against the bookshelf, the antiquarian folds her arms and idly watches Liane, expression somewhat thoughtful, "Really, I'd be willing to bet most books of tales about dreams would have something similar, even if only in the stories themselves. After all, many of them were invented to explain just that."

"I d-d-don't have very m-much doubt of that." Liane murmurs. "I w-wonder if they talk of d-dream sendings?" The Native American book is pulled out as well with those carefully gloved hands. "V-visions, I suppose they m-might be called. I wonder wh-what they make of l-l-lucid dreaming."

"I imagine they'd regard lucid dreamers as shamans of a sort, given the symbolic importance early cultures placed on dreams." One hand lifts and waves vaguely at the book Liane's looking over, which is definitely old, but has been carefully rebound so the pages aren't in any danger of falling out. But definitely early in the life of the printing press, if the lettering is any indication. "Think about it: when a certain dream is supposed to herald a good harvest, and a person can have that dream simply whenever they want... I imagine there was a lot of pressure placed on anyone that could walk their own dreamscape."

"Q-q-quite bothers-s-some, I'd im-m-magine, for the p-p-poor dreaming fool." Liane murmurs, her voice strangely sympathetic and..complicated. "If y-y-you can only d-dream and herald, w-without the power to h-help more than that." The pile of books is given a loving pat. "I s-suppose I shall t-take these, then. Do y-y-you have anyth-thing else I m-m-might find int-t-teresting?" As if Alexandra already knows Liane's tastes and preferences!

An eyebrow perks at Liane's opinion on dreamers, but doesn't comment. Instead, she grins and stands away from the shelves she was leaning against, "That depends entirely what you're interested in. And you're too closed in for me to do more than guess. But..." and she makes a bit of a show of tapping her chin and looking around, "I just dug a lap-loom out of the back the other day, complete with shuttles. I haven't had a chance to clean it up and make sure it works, but if something like that strikes your fancy..."

Liane indeed looks interested! "I w-w-would like to see it. And I im-m-magine if it's w-wood, even if s-s-some pieces are d-d-damaged I could ask W-w-weston to fix them up a t-touch, or make a n-new piece entirely. He's r-r-really quite clever." Then, however there is a small, curious glance towards Alexandra. A puzzled glance. "C-c-closed off?"

Alexandra nods and starts back towards the store counter, gesturing for Liane to follow along and speaking as she goes, "Nothing ''looked'' damaged, but it had been sitting in a trunk for gods know how long. If nothing else, I was going to check it for dry-rot." The question brings a bit of a smile as the antiquarian steps behind the counter, apparently to pull the promised loom out from beneath it, "I'm certainly not one to comment on personal habits, but you don't look at people, I've noticed. Or rarely. And it's hard to read you," and she pauses with a soft grunt as she hoists the loom in question up onto the counter, "through all the nervousness. Please, excuse me if I'm being too blunt, but you did ask." She certainly doesn't sound malicious about it, for what it's worth!

"Oh." Liane blushes. "I-- I've b-been g-g-going outd-d-doors again for p-perhaps eight-t-teeen m-months, now. I w-w-was an ag-g-goraphobic, am-mong other things." Liane says this without sounding particularly bothered by the confession: it's as if she just announced she was from New York, or just came from the coffee shop. "I've g-g-gotte much better at s-social things. Though I s-suppose there's st-still things to work on."

"Everyone has their own hangups," agrees the shopkeep easily enough, carefully unpacking the bits of the loom from their storage arrangement instead of looking at Liane. All the pieces seem to be there, though it's obvious the device will have to be restrung and re-threaded, and it's still a little dusty, though all the cobwebs have been cleaned off. "If you do want to take this home, I'm going to have to warn you I'm not sure what condition it's really in at the moment. You could get it all set up and have it break."

"Hm. Do you th-th-think you m-might check it, and I sh-shall come around in a f-few days to pick it up? I r-really wouldn't know how to d-d-deal with it if it d-d-does break. I c-could pay for it now, and I s-suppose a c-consult-t-tation fee for looking it over." A pause. "I'm n-n-not even sure I h-h-have room in the bug f-for it at the m-moment."

Alexandra smiles up at Liane before shaking her head, "I always check and clean my wares before putting them out for sale, so don't worry about that. And I can certainly hang onto it for a few days. If nothing else," and the smile pulls into a slightly mischievous grin, "it'll get you back into my shop where I can tempt you to buy more things. For I am a devious and evil person." But she starts putting the shuttles and similar bits back into place without further silliness, being just as careful as when she pulled them out, "So just the books for today?"

There's a pause for Liane, as she mentally goes over her own little list in her head. "I th-think that will do. Unl-l-less you h-have any c-c-cookbooks as well? Or p-perhaps something u-useful for l-learning to cook in b-bulk? I've r-r-recently b-become a cook for a c-c-coffee shop."

There's a momentary pause and an amused look from Alexandra, who simply points back over towards the Book Section with twinkling eyes, "Third set of shelves from the left, the entire unit is full of old cookbooks. Some of them are even handwritten. And I'm sure there's a few that even talk about things like roasting whole pigs, though I doubt you get that much in a coffee shop."

"Oh n-n-no. I'd only r-roast a wh-whole pig if W-w-weston and Alex c-come over, I think. B-boys and their app-p-petites." Liane says with a fond little smile, before going over to look at the cookbooks.

''(Fade to black)''

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - On Dreams

2011-04-15T13:42:28Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}10/11/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}04/14/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Liane]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - On Dreams/Setting

2011-04-15T13:41:42Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - On Dreams

2011-04-15T13:41:27Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{subst:Log}}'

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}MO/DY/YEAR
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}MO/DY/YEAR
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Person In Scene 1]]
* [[Person In Scene 2]]
* [[Person In Scene 3]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra/RP Hooks

2011-04-13T11:43:30Z

Chaemera:

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

* Alexandra is the proprietor of the [[Old Friends Antique Dealership]] near UNM. She actually took over the ownership just recently from some odd old lady...
** Like old things? Like weird things? Like weird old things? There's a little of all three at Old Friends Antiques!
* She's originally from Massachusetts. Wasn't there a family with her surname murdered out that way a few years back? Gruesome.
* Those of you with an ear towards the weirder side of history may have read about how there was a Rosencrans family that had some strange rumors circulating about them some generations back. Probably just witch-hunt-fever, it was about the same era as that nasty business around Salem, about the turn of the 1700s...

Alexandra/RP Hooks

2011-04-13T11:42:09Z

Chaemera:

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

* Alexandra is the proprietor of the [[Old Friends Antique Dealership]] near UNM. She actually took over the ownership just recently from some odd old lady...
* She's originally from Massachusetts. Wasn't there a family with her surname murdered out that way a few years back? Gruesome.
* Those of you with an ear towards the weirder side of history may have read about how there was a Rosencrans family that had some strange rumors circulating about them some generations back. Probably just witch-hunt-fever, it was about the same era as that nasty business around Salem, about the turn of the 1700s...

Alexandra - Layers and Shells/Log

2011-04-13T11:41:39Z

Chaemera: Created page with 'Gareth slouches in, pulling off earbuds which are just blaaasting some good old Beastie Boys or something. Poor kid's gonna get some ear damage. He pokes his head in, glancing ab…'

Gareth slouches in, pulling off earbuds which are just blaaasting some good old Beastie Boys or something. Poor kid's gonna get some ear damage. He pokes his head in, glancing about the store as if noticing any radical changes since the last time he's been here. Satisfied that he's got the lay of the land, he wanders in and starts looking around at stuff.

Since the last time Gareth was in here, there haven't been any massive changes. A few of the wares are different, certainly, but nothing that wouldn't go with inventory circulation. Except that several items are set out on the counter that can only really be described as 'oddities.' Alexandra is fiddling with one at the moment, which appears to be a wooden cube about two inches on a side, except that she's pushed a few bits in or out or sideways... some sort of puzzlebox, probably. She looks up as the bell over the door rings, though, and grins as she sees who's come in, "Welcome back. What brings you by?"

Gareth shrugs. "Got a few hours to kill, figured I'd come in, look at some dusty old things. What's up with you? How's the cat?" he asks, obviously this is the more important question. "Hey! A puzzlebox! I got one of those," he says, walking up to the counter curiously. "You figured it out yet? When my friend Alys got me one, it took me about two months to get it open. Of course I didn't have a lot of time to check it out, but hey, still. Fun between classes, you know?"

Alexandra laughs a bit and waves the puzzle she's fiddling with, "Not yet, only just found it this morning. This one's tricky." The other items on the counter run the gamut from some sort of animal's skull, maybe a cat of some sort, to an intricately-detailed rosary that looks to be carved out of amber. "Machiavelli's doing as well as always. Probably asleep on top of one of the shelves, knowing him." She lets her hands settle to the countertop, still holding the puzzlebox but not messing with it for now, "How're classes going?"

Gareth picks up the puzzlebox and starts fiddling with it. it's like he can't help himself. He glances up briefly to look around for the big fluffy cat, but turns back to the siren lure of a puzzle un-puzzled. "Eh," he shrugs to the box. "Second year physics is interesting, the lab can be rough, the parties so far are stupid, Calculus is breaking my brain, and fuckin' Comp II - I know there's supposed to be papers and all, but jeez, lay off the papers, man. I kinda wish I took Biology this semester. I sat in for a few but had to drop it. That new professor ''talks to whales''! Is that cool or what?"

There's a somewhat bemused look on the antiquarian's face as she listens to Gareth ramble, propping her elbow on the nearby cash register and resting her chin in her hand. "The higher maths always gave me trouble, too. Ended up just getting an arts degree to satisfy the folks." There's a brief hesitation after she says that, but then she just shrugs and shakes her head, "What sort of degree are you aiming for?"

Gareth fiddles with the puzzle box. It's hard to say whether he's having success or not. He seems to be having fun with it, though. "Physics, through the PANDA program. I dig it, but I'm more into quantum physics these days, it's just a lot more interesting. The problem is all the fuckin' math you have to get through to get to the good stuff. I'm thinking of dropping it. But..." His mouth twitches. "Before my dad went all religious, he was a physicist," he admits. "I just..." He furrows his brow, as if puzzling through a particularly hard part of sliding sections of box, "...wanna do right by that, I guess."

"So long as you're enjoying it. I'm of the opinion everyone should do what's right for them, even if their parents don't like it." A somewhat sad smile touches Alexandra's face as she watches the boy fiddling with that puzzlebox, "After all, it's your life, not theirs. I can't think of the number of people I know that got stuck doing something they hated because their dad was in the business, you know?"

Gareth glances up. "You don't think you owe anything to your family? Some family issues you can't just walk away from, it seems," says the college student. "You can pick your friends, and you can pick your friends' noses, but you can't...I dunno. Insert something about family in there somewhere." He shrugs. Fiddles with his puzzle box. "What'd your parents want you to do?"

Alexandra shakes her head, "I didn't say that. But I think it's better for everyone if you're happy with what you're doing. Otherwise the only thing you're giving your family is your resentment." She settles down onto a high stool set behind the counter with a shrug, lacing her fingers together over her knee, "Mom wanted me to find a husband and have kids. Dad didn't much care so long as I got a college degree and a job. Neither of them really cared to look far afield, sadly."

Gareth tilts his head, still holding the puzzle box. He fiddles absently. "So what if you give your family resentment?" he asks. "In the end, they're the reason you're alive." He looks back down at the puzzle box, turns it upside-down to get a better view, and says, "Sounds like they didn't put a whole lot of pressure on you, though. Did you just get the degree to make your dad happy?" He looks up. "Didn't you ever find a guy or something?" He has a lopsided smile. "Or a chick or whatever. Don' sound too unreasonable of your mom for askin'. People do tend to fall in love all over the place. It's like a sickness with some people!"

A snort and a wry smile are Alexandra's first responses to that, "No real pressure, no, but no real expectations either. I had a brother they were more interested in, for the most part." Tapping a fingertip against her knee, she thinks a moment, then shakes her head, "And really, I was too busy with other stuff to worry about settling down. Hobbies, that kind of thing. Oh, I had friends," and she waves a hand negligently, "but nothing serious."

Gareth's eyes twinkle at that. "Friends, huh?" he says, grinning. "So, your parents kinda wanted things from you but didn't really put a lot of pressure on you, huh?" It's like he's adding a little note to his Alexandra-file. "What other stuff were you busy with? You got a cool degree and had some laid-back parents and stuff, and suddenly end up in the desert sellin' a buncha old stuff to tourists. With one awesome cat." He grins. He's totally not paying attention to the box, just fiddling it with his hands, "I'd say you need a few 'friends' now, or you'll whither and die and your cat will have to eat your corpse for sustenance, but... I don't know many attractive dudes or dudettes that might go for the antiquing crowd." He shrugs. So much for his career as a matchmaker. And then, click-click-click, a whole set of sides goes into place, he seems to have made significant progress opening the puzzle box. He gets this look, politely pleased masking a glow of pride. "Pretty cool box," he says, casually.

Another snort, "If you like it, it's for sale. Everything in here is, really." A beat, then she quickly adds "Not the cat or me." Someone's got a suspicious mind! Not that that's likely a surprise around the college crowd. "I've always been fascinated by old things, really. But less because they're old and more because of what kinds of things they bring with them. Like that box: the slip with it said it belonged to some widow around the civil war era, with a note that it hadn't been opened since we acquired it. I've no idea what's in it, if anything." She shrugs, "Makes you wonder why someone like that would have a thing like this, and also why they'd give it away."

"Things they bring with them?" Gareth asks. He looks...confused, and then glances back down at the box. "Maybe the widow knew her relatives were impatient and dull, and would never open the box," he ponders. His brow furrows again. "Stuff like this, though, it's like people." He slides one of the sections. "It looks like you're supposed to slide it this way, but if you do it locks the other side up, so you can't move forward. If you slide this other one over, it slides the previous one in place." Pause. "Kinda like how I pushed on what you were busy with, and you slid the conversation back to the puzzle box." He glances off, maybe looking for the cat. "But maybe you got good reasons for having some sliding bits of wood perfectly fitted between you and the rest of the world. Who am I to say?"

"We've all got our masks," agrees the woman behind the counter, nodding and not seeming put out at all that her earlier evasion was spotted. "And I imagine you've got good reasons for why you flinch, as well. Sometimes things just work that way." Your looking away may not have actually been seeking the local feline, but he decides to turn up anyway, hopping down from a nearby shelf to land on the counter with a resounding thump, and from there hopping down behind the counter. Alexandra looks his way, but continues speaking, "And really, the things I was busy with, my parents wouldn't have approved of. But they made me happy, and gave me something better to do with my life than waste away as yet another arts major wearing a paper hat and serving fries."

"Yeah," Gareth says. "Our parents hang large over our lives sometimes, sometimes in ways we don' expect." He offers a hand to the cat to sniff - but doesn't look, apparently having enough cat-fu to understand cats aren't always keen on being watched, and like to sniff hands at their own pace. The puzzle box rests on counter, a good way opened, but Gareth has stopped fiddling with it. "And if you're happy, you're happy," he says with some finality. "I can't imagine being cooped up with a bunch of old things, like a whole store full of dust and grandma, but the place seems to suit you." It's like a compliment and an insult! A complisult! "Your parents still around? What's your brother like?" he asks, all curiosity.

An eyebrow lifts, and Alexandra gives the boy a wry look as though trying to decide how to take that backhanded compliment. In the end, though, she just shakes her head and lets it pass completely. The question about her family brings a shadow to her expression, and she stands from her stool to go scoop up Machiavelli, gathering him against her chest, "I lost my parents in an accident a few years ago. Some college kids being stupid, and my folks just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time." Looking down at her cat's ears with a grimace, she sighs, "My brother seemed more interested in going through their will than anything, when it happened. He always preferred columns of figures to people."

Gareth winces, empathetically. He reaches up a hand and pushes his hair behind one ear. "Ah, fuck, yeah, I know a little about how that goes. I was in an accident when I was twelve, killed my sister Ruthie, who was driving at the time" he admits. "I don't really remember a lot from that time. I was on a lot of pain meds for the rest of the year. Still walk funny," he says. He looks back up. "You talked to your brother since? Maybe that was his way of coping, somehow? I know for some people, they got to...when they lose someone important to them, they kind of have to hold on to something concrete, make the world seem like it makes sense until they can properly grieve. Control is...important sometimes," he says obliquely.

After a moment, Alexandra nods, "I know. And yes, we've stayed in touch. He's not a ''bad'' person, just doesn't deal well with people as people." She heaves a sigh, then releases Machiavelli onto the countertop, where he takes a moment to groom his chest, completely unconcerned with mere human foibles. "For me, I just had to get away. Too many memories back home. Friend of mine knew the previous owner of this shop, miss Harkness, and I thought it was a good an idea as any to come out this way. See some new things, like."

Gareth nods. "I bet," he says, on the topic of getting away. "Hope you find a buyer for that puzzle box," says Gareth. "I'd pick it up if I could afford it. Kinda curious to know what's in it and all, maybe you can have the buyer tell you and lemme know." He grins cheerfully. On the 'see some new things' he chuckles. "Joke's on you then, huh? Lookit all these old things around!" He hmms. "Maybe you need friends. Or 'friend' friends. What about that muscly cop dude?" he asks. "Or that snarky handsome guy in the suit? Wait," Gareth adds, thoughtfully. "You like really old dudes. Hmm." He gets a distant look.

The 'suggestions' just get a Look from Alexandra that suggests she's not entirely sure of Gareth's mental stability before she just rolls her eyes and picks that puzzlebox back up, "They're new to me. Age has nothing to do with newness. And I'm making friends, thank you very much." She waggles the puzzlebox at Gareth admonishingly, resulting in a muffled rattle from inside, "Just for that, if I get this thing open, I'm not telling you what's inside. So there."

Gareth gets a hurt look. "What th'fuck did I do?" he asks, confused. "I'm just worried about you. You shouldn't be some crazy cat lady with her store full of old crap." Pause. "''Cool'' old crap," he clarifies. "You're gonna get someone like Liane all worried and then she'll be sending you giant piles of food and then it'll be the end times or something."

The antiquarian in question laughs, then reaches over to rescue a cut-glass paperweight from where Machiavelli was batting at it, "We're all a little bit crazy. Some of us just don't realize it. And don't worry, it's not like I hide in here all the time. I've just been busy lately, haven't had much chance to get out and about." Then she grins, expression perhaps a little evil, "Maybe you should worry about yourself. You forget what girl you owe what present and ''then'' it'll be the End Times, mark my words."

"Well, good," says Gareth, biting his lip. He seems satisfied by this explanation, at least... momentarily. He blinks as the topic goes back to him. "What? Oh, I gave it to the girl. She liked it!" He gets this bright look, like he is suddenly filled with all the cheer in the world, and then that look gets tinged with...sadness or some kind. "I think she thought it was really cool. Thanks for your he-" His phone buzzes in his pocket, set to vibrate, he pulls it out, looks, furrows his brow, and gets an ashen look. He texts back and looks. "I gotta go," he mumbles, "friend sick." And then he's rushing out.

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - Layers and Shells/Setting

2011-04-13T11:37:28Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - Layers and Shells

2011-04-13T11:37:07Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}10/08/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}04/12/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Gareth]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - Layers and Shells

2011-04-13T11:35:41Z

Chaemera: Created page with ' {{subst:Log}}'

Alexandra/Allies

2011-04-13T01:53:51Z

Chaemera:

{| align="center"
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Deacon]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Trace]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Petra]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Deacon.jpg|75px|The Hunted]]
| width="250" | '''''He watches.''' I have the feeling he is hunted by something, either within himself or within his past.''
| [[Image:Trace.jpg|75px|The Face]]
| width="250" | '''''She talks.''' She and Deacon fit well together. Watch him carefully, for his sake.''
| [[Image:Petra.jpg|75px|Colleague]]
| width="250" | '''''Curious girl.''' I like her. Might have some common ground in hobbies.''
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Joan]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Gareth]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Liane]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Joan.jpg|75px|Brass and Smoke]]
| width="250" | '''''Interesting taste.''' Will have to see if there's something for her hiding under the dust.''
| [[Image:Gareth.jpg|75px|The Mask]]
| width="250" | '''''The mask doesn't cover his eyes.''' Good.''
| [[Image:Liane.jpg|75px|Adorable]]
| width="250" | '''''One part''' of a much larger whole. I wonder...''
|}

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

Alexandra/Gallery

2011-04-08T22:15:13Z

Chaemera:

<center><gallery perrow=4 widths="150px" heights="150px">
Image:Alexandra1.jpg|Alexandra out on the town
Image:OldFriendsAntiques.jpg|The book section, a dangerous place
Image:MacCat.jpg|The one actually in charge.
</gallery></center>

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

Alexandra/Allies

2011-04-08T22:13:29Z

Chaemera:

{| align="center"
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Deacon]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Trace]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Petra]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Deacon.jpg|75px|The Hunted]]
| width="250" | '''''He watches.''' I have the feeling he is hunted by something, either within himself or within his past.''
| [[Image:Trace.jpg|75px|The Face]]
| width="250" | '''''She talks.''' She and Deacon fit well together. Watch him carefully, for his sake.''
| [[Image:Petra.jpg|75px|Colleague]]
| width="250" | '''''Curious girl.''' I like her. Might have some common ground in hobbies.''
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Joan]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Gareth]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Liane]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Joan.jpg|75px|Brass and Smoke]]
| width="250" | '''''Interesting taste.''' Will have to see if there's something for her hiding under the dust.''
| [[Image:Gareth.jpg|75px|The Mask]]
| width="250" | '''''Poor lad.''' Sometimes our armor lays heavy upon us.''
| [[Image:Liane.jpg|75px|Adorable]]
| width="250" | '''''One part''' of a much larger whole. I wonder...''
|}

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

Alexandra - On Darkness/Log

2011-04-08T22:09:20Z

Chaemera: Created page with 'It's getting late in the day. Most shops are getting ready to close down for the night, the nightlife is well underway, and it's starting to get downright chilly as the year wind…'

It's getting late in the day. Most shops are getting ready to close down for the night, the nightlife is well underway, and it's starting to get downright chilly as the year winds down as well. At the antique dealership, things are winding down as well. Alexandra's got some of the lights off, though the door remains unlocked and the sign turned to OPEN, and she's currently sitting behind the counter going through the contents of a box. Some rather odd contents, at that. At the moment, she's squinting at a rat skeleton posed inside a glass display jar with a somewhat dubious expression, tapping a pen against a pad of paper where she's apparently been doing some figuring. Hmm...

Deacon steps carry him along the sidewalk with a cigarette dangling from his lips, hands in the pockets of his leather coat, and head slightly downcast against the chilling wind. At first, it looks like he might be intent on passing by the Antique store, figuring it for closed at this late hour, until he spies the open sign... Reaching for that cigarette he flicks it out into the street and blows the contents of his longs up into the air as he slips inside with a jingling of the bell that hangs above the door to announce arrivals.

Alexandra blinks and looks up as the door opens, clearly surprised, then grins when she recognizes Deacon, "Well, look who's here. Evening Deacon." She sets her pen down and sits up, stretching a little as though she's been sitting hunched over for too long. Which is probably the case, come to think of it. "What brings you by at this hour? I was going to close up shop once I got through with this box."

Slipping his hands back into his pockets, he continues to blow smoke with each breath, until he's fully out from the cold night beyond the glass doors. Stepping over towards the counter he offers a greeting nod to Alexandra and speaks in his quietly accented voice, as impassive as ever, "Was out for walking, saw sign.. If you are closing, I can come back another time, perhaps? Do not wishing to intrude." Eying the box curiously, he glances after a moment to the Antiquarian instead.

"Oh, it's no bother. Nice to have some conversation every now and then. Machiavelli's not much help there," and she grins over at the wad of fur that's dozing on the floor behind the counter before looking back up to Deacon. "Had a customer in the other day that gave me the idea to start digging out some of the stranger things miss Harkness had in the back when I took over." She lightly taps a knuckle against the glass covering that rat skeleton she was peering at, "Like this fellow. Little weird nicknacks that are tricky to price."

Deacon leans over the counter to examine the fellow in question with a perk of his dark brow, "Da, had same situation when Tracey and I taking over Pawn Shop. Many of things in back were not yet priced.." Hands come out from his jacket to motion towards the jar questioningly, "What exactly is it? Besides rat skeleton in jar? Perhaps some relic from American colonists? I swear, they are strangest individuals in what they are wanting to keep.. no offense of course."

Nodding, Alexandra turns the specimen slightly to reveal a little brass plaque on the base, nearly faded to illegibility from time and wear, "Basically that, though not of Colonial era. From a little before the Second World War, actually. Looks like it was part of some backyard taxidermist's hobby, collecting and posing various beasties. I've got a cardinal's skeleton still back there that I think is from the same guy."

"Is probably worth much more to private collectors than general public." Deacon reasons with a lifting of one shoulder, kneeling down to better inspect the rats carcass inside, "Did not preserve well, however. Would be difficult with machinery of the time, but not impossible to create vacuum inside glass case." motioning with one long finger, his tone is always quiet, always shy of conversational, and all ways a little dull. Like a recording. "There is cemetery, in Georgia, when they were building interstate ninety five.. they dig up old cemetery and find woman in glass casket.. very old, maybe thirty years, at time. When moving, they crack glass by accident.. oxidization immediately destroy woman."

"I think I heard about that in the news, actually. But this time, I don't think it's bad preservation." Alexandra gets up from her seat and leans in to point, "Look closely. The bones are wired in place. I think he was posing the actual skeleton, after all the flesh had been removed. Very precise work. But yes, probably worth more to private collectors." She laughs lightly, "But I've been told there's a decent crop of folk around here that like weird things, so."

Deacon does lean in to further examine the skeleton. There's a narrowing of his eyes, then a single blink, and a far away look to his eyes as if he's seeing so much more. Focused, precise, his gaze looks magnifying for several seconds, then he blinks once more and looks up to Alexandra, "He did not even leave scrapes in his bone work.. that is very impressive." Dragging a knuckle down the side of his jaw curiously, "Da, there is a great many in Albuquerque that would be interested in this kind of piece. I believe you will find this to be very strange city, indeed."

Alexandra watches Deacon's examination, head tilted a little to one side, then quirks a brow at his verdict. But she just smiles and shrugs, "I like things a bit strange. Keeps life from getting boring." She folds her arms and rests her hip against the edge of the counter, just kind of absently looking at that little skeleton, "How go things on your end of the world, anyway? Any trouble around your shop?"

Deacon glances up from the skeleton and resumes looking distant for a moment, then he settles his gaze on Alexandra, "Nyet, not particular troubles. People having come to appreciate the foolishness of messing with Lost and Found.. at least those regular thuggish types who are trying to muscle in on 'ma and pa' businesses." Hands return to the pockets of his leather coat, eyes unmoving, "Da, suppose is less boring that there is so much very strange about city. Sometimes is disconcerting, not like other places I am having been."

Again that eyebrow goes up, and Alexandra's gaze returns to Deacon, "I've seen a few odd things in my life, but you've got me curious as to what you're used to. And what someone that works a business inside the Zone regards as 'disconcerting.'" Her gaze isn't penetrating or searching or anything like that, however, and her expression is quietly amused, as though at her own curiosity.

"Likely not same things that individual who runs Antique Shop near to university is finding disconcerting." Deacon doesn't grin, outright, but there is a turn of his lip, a twitch, like it almost cracked the surface. Even still, the expression was hardly one of mirth, but of acceptance. Smiling into ones own oblivion? "Drive bys, individuals stealing, guns being pointed in face.. these are regular occurrences in Zone. While they do not bother me, specifically, hardly 'new' to such things, it does point to the dark domain within which me and my wife have made our home?"

The antiquarian can't help the shudder that touches her spine at that description, "Like I said before, I don't know how you do it in there." She looks towards the front of the shop, with its plate glass window and door, watching a car drive past, "There's always the risk someone's going to try and rob a place, yes, even out here. But that level of risk..." she shakes her head, "I don't know if I could take it, day in and day out."

"Is not worst place I am having seen." Deacon indicates with a slow shake of his head, looking down at the counter for a moment, "Like you are pointing out before, was engaged in Bosnian conflict. Also, I am only coming to America in early nineties. War zone is having no candle to hold to Communist Berlin..." A dark look crosses his eyes for a moment, then he shakes it away, "That is very uncomfortable topic, however. Forgive me." Quiet, just for a second, "Tracey and I have come to an understanding with most of gangs in area. Some still trying to test us, but not as many as when we are first opening business. Mostly now is matter of being caught in cross fire... and this is still very rare."

Alexandra grimaces, and without thinking about it she reaches over to lay a hand on the man's arm. Not trying to grip or anything, just a touch, offering some small bit of support. "I heard things on the eastern side of the Wall were rough. I'm sorry." Letting her hand settle back to the countertop, the woman shakes her head again, "I imagine you and she know your way around such things. It's so far outside what I know and what I'm used to I wouldn't even know where to begin." She laughs then, with self-directed irony, "Soft, city-bred girl like me, wouldn't last an hour."

"You would be surprised how quickly people adapt." Deacon suggests, only acknowledging the hand laid upon his arm with a glance, first at it, then up to her. As if he doesn't understand fully what she was offering sympathy about, though he's not so dense as to not know the reason for the touch. "It is true, we have grown to be more effective in that sort of location, we also wanted to show there is 'good' in heart of zone. Everyone is seeing only the bad part through news.. Inside ever dark thing, there is glimmer of light. This is what Lost and Found means, finding what you are thinking did not exist.."

"Good on you both for that," smiles the woman, nodding. "And you're right, all we see out here is the nastiness. Shootings, gang wars, things the police should be dealing with but either can't or won't, depending who you ask. The very fact the place has a name is pretty indicative of just how bad it's gotten, if nothing else. Everywhere else, it's just 'the bad part of town.' Here, it's 'The Zone,' capital letters." Another shiver, and Alexandra folds her arms as though chilled, "It makes you think."

"What does it make you think?" Deacon asks with genuine curiosity, leaning a bit onto the counter with both hands curled over the edge of the glass. His stare is a pointed sort of thing, deliberate, very focused.. and some could suggest intense, perhaps more so than is required. Which might be why he intentionally keeps it turned down on that rat within the glass display, tilting his head over towards his shoulder much in the way a bird might, sitting on it's perch.

"...it makes me wonder why it's like that." Fingers tap against Alexandra's arm as she also looks down at that little skeleton, "If humans are just naturally that violent and horrible, or if there's something that makes them that way. Are we kept clean by this society we've created, or is there something, some disease of the spirit, that pulls people into that level of violence?" She shakes her head again, as though trying to rattle something inside back into place, "Great for philosophy class, but it does no good when a mugger's pointing a gun at you, does it?"

"Nyet, not very usually." Deacon agrees, though he doesn't seem to outright dismiss what Alexandra is saying. Not that he comments further, simply that he's got that thoughtful sort of look, one that turns his already intense stare into a thousand yard gleam. "I am often wondering what is making men violent. Why we are not more like animals in the wild, with definable sets of instinctive behaviors... I have come to the realization that, humanity, is inherently evil. Self awareness, is a plague. At least when applied to the masses.. individuals, conversely, are what redeem humanity." Motioning across the counter to Alexandra, "Those who do not let the plague infest them, do not subscribe to willingness that beats in every person to become monster.. very hard struggle, but I am applauding those who try. I try. Tracey tries.. but is often difficult."

Again, Alexandra shakes her head, but this time in disagreement, "I wouldn't say evil, not inherently. Greedy, perhaps. Short-sighted and self-centered, usually. But I would not say ''evil''." She steps away from the edge of the counter to pace behind it, slow steps quiet against the floor, "And humans are strange in that they have herd instincts, have you noticed? When a group starts doing something, many just follow without thinking. I think ''that'' is what causes the trouble. One bad spot, dragging the rest along behind just because they don't bother to think about what they're doing."

Deacon does, in fact, consider that. And he's got a great capacity for silence as is evident when he goes almost completely so for several long seconds, simply staring down at the counter. Even his blinking is infrequent, bordering on the nonexistent. Right about the time it would seem entirely to unnatural, his eyes slide closed, almost like an afterthought. Then he looks up to Alexandra and nods, "Da, this is making a great bit of sense. Have seen it in may ways, in many different places, with many different types of people.. always is the same. When humanity is united, usually is something terrible will follow."

"Or something wonderful. It all depends on who's in front and where they're going," the antiquarian is quick to point out. "Statistically, it tends to end badly, but I have to think 'how much of that is because some greedy little man works his way to the front?'" She wanders back over and picks up that rat skeleton in its display, turning it carefully in her hands, "Some terrible person that sees that mass of potential, all those people willing to ''do'' something, and thinks only 'what can I get out of this?'" Her lips pull into a tight grimace, "I could easily hate people like that, I think."

"They are easy individuals to hate." Deacon agrees, completely, but not forcefully. His expression remains dull, does not ignite in passion on the subject, but the tone is true, even in it's monotone. "The problem, I am thinking, is that generally, power corrects. Those individuals who may have once been thinking purely of the masses are easily confused by the acquisition of power.. And Absolute power, such is in the form of those like you are suggesting, where the masses follow their leadership blindly, corrupts absolutely. No truer is there a philosophy than this one." And it's a sad sort of admission, "This is why I am without ambition. If individuals wish to follow lead, they should do so of their own accord and not because any dictate them to.. whether intention is good or ill, it is still the taking of freewill. Which is something to which I fight very hard to defend in every person."

Alexandra tips the little skeleton towards Deacon briefly, acknowledging the point, "It comes back to selfishness, I think. Because we still have the instincts from when we had to climb trees to get away from predators. Because some part of us is always thinking 'what do ''I'' need?'" She sets the little wood-and-glass stand back on the countertop gently, "And while I can see where you're coming from... have you given up on leading yourself, too?" She fixes her eyes on Deacon, steadily this time, "Do you choose your own path? Or do you simply wander?"

"My path is.. complicated." Deacon admits with a tilt of his head, "Tracey and I have come to several hard decisions about our individual position within the greater design, but we are comfortable with these decisions." The way he speaks, he does not make any distinction between himself and his wife, almost like speaking of one IS speaking of the other. Not quite like Superman and Clark Kent, however, since both have been seen in the same place at the same time. "Which reminds me, I should probably be getting back to Pawn Shop.. was only going to pick up dinner at Mexican restaurant." Motioning with a flick of his wrist, "You have still not coming by Pawn Shop.. you should, I believe you will be surprised by what you are finding there." Then he's nodding, stepping back away from the counter, "Thank you for conversation, Alexandra. Dasvidanya."

Alexandra nods and smiles, "I still plan on visiting, someday. You know how crazy getting settled into a new place can be." She lifts a hand to wave farewell as Deacon steps away from the counter, "Say hello to your wife for me, and take care on your way home. You're both welcome to drop by here whenever you like."

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - On Darkness

2011-04-08T22:05:21Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}10/02/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}04/08/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Deacon]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - On Darkness/Setting

2011-04-08T22:04:15Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - On Darkness

2011-04-08T22:03:57Z

Chaemera: Created page with ' {{subst:Log}}'

Alexandra - A Question of Value/Log

2011-04-07T16:47:53Z

Chaemera:

It's one of those evenings where all the things on the shelves have been straightened, there's nobody bustling about in the aisles, and winter is making it just chilly enough outside that not many folks are out and just wandering.

Which is why Alexandra is being Incredibly Industrious and is entertaining a large, fluffy Maine Coon with a feather on the end of a stick, which he's batting and chirping at. It's one of her primary duties here at the store, don't you know?

The chime above the door jingles as Petra shuffles into the shop, muttering, "Cold cold COLD cold cold," and then steps further in to close the door behind her. "It's cold," she notes unnecessarily, and doesn't get around to taking off her gloves yet. "Hello!" she adds brightly.

Alexandra looks up at the jingle of the door-bell, which Machiavelli takes as his cue to snag the feather and try to make off with it. This time, however, the shopkeep manages to keep a grip and grins down at the cat as he initiates a tug of war. "Evening! And it's only a little chilly out," the woman behind the counter laughs before gesturing towards the little coffeepot she's set out near the cash register, "There's coffee if you want, or you can wait a bit and I can brew some tea? I figured you southerners aren't as used to the chill as I am."

"I'm not even a southerner," Petra says sadly. "It's just that cold is so ... so COLD!" As if on cue, she shivers a little. "Coffee sounds wonderful, tea sounds wonderful, it '''all''' sounds wonderful. Because it's HOT. Hot and DELICIOUS, hopefully." She steps closer to the cash register, giving the cat a thorough eyeing but not actually going into Kitty!Theatrics of Inanity.

Machiavelli is a suitably fierce specimen, roughly half-again as big as your average housecat and bulky. And currently attempting to yank his toy out of Alexandra's hands. Hah, have at you!

"Feel free to snag a cup, you look like you could use it," the shopkeep continues to grin, propping her hip on the edge of the counter. There's a little stack of paper cups near the coffeepot, which has been set to 'keep hot' mode, as well as a little thermos of milk and an actual sugar-bowl with a spoon. She probably found that last bit amongst her wares. "What brings you by, anyhow? Just coming to have a look around?"

"You have '''old stuff,'''" is Petra's very serious answer. She actually does sound interested, for what that's worth. She grabs a cup and pours herself a nice tall cup of coffee, which she doesn't doctor in the slightest. It gets blown over to cool it while she finally takes the time to look around the shop. "Heeeey, this stuff is cool!"

Alexandra can't help the laugh at Petra's enthusiasm, finally releasing the toy to Machiavelli's tender mercies. Which means he promptly loses interest and leaves it lying there on the floor as he begins to wash his face and forepaws. Silly mortals. "Well, yes, that's what an antique shop usually carries," Alexandra grins and comes out from behind the counter, leaving the dropleaf up. "I've had a surprising number of youngsters coming in looking for gifts since I opened her back up. It's nice."

Silly mortals indeed. For Petra's part, she's fascinatedly looking about, though the books catch her eye the most. She's looking for odd, quirky titles, since those are the sorts her eyes seem to stop on the most. "This'd be a great place for gifts, yeah. What kinda stuff do you have trouble keeping in stock, and what stuff can you barely manage to ever sell?"

"Well, the jewelry tends to cycle fairly quickly," and Alexandra gestures to where several old jewelry-boxes are laid out in one corner of the store on one of those old beasts of a vanity-set, the sort with three mirrors. The books seem to run the gamut in terms of genre, everything from old nature-documentation to "bodice-ripper" romance and even religious tomes. "Not many people seem interested in the cast-iron furniture, though. I'm not sure they realize it's for sale." Like the somewhat ornate stool in front of that vanity, done all in black iron. She shrugs, "But really, anything's as likely to sell as another. Everyone has something different call to them, I find."

"Yeah, I could see that-- especially about the jewelry. It's kinda timeless stuff, for the most part, and often people prefer it older and more ornate than the clean, plain stuff people sport these days." Petra smiles at some of the titles -- particularly Trade Routes of the 1500s for some reason, and then makes her way over to the jewelry, picking at it idly. Here, the Rule Of Petra Interest seems to be, the shinier the better. "So business is good, then?"

Alexandra nods, bending to pick up the toy Machiavelli was so interested in before and now is apparently ignoring with a passion, "Good enough, certainly. I wouldn't say it's anything extraordinary, but I certainly can't complain." In the jewelry boxes is, almost literally, a little bit of everything. A heavy signet ring that's clearly sized for a man sits right next to a delicate bracelet that's little more than carefully twisted silver wire holding clear gems just big enough to sparkle, "And I've even had a couple repeat customers, which is always nice."

"Repeat customers, already? Pretty fuckin' sweet. Well, I can see why. Ya got nice hospitality, nice wares, the whole nine yards." Petra picks at the jewelry with the same interest she had for the books, if even a little more. Several pieces are lifted out of the box and inspected carefully, though none are kept out as though she has intent to buy. "You liking Albuquerque so far?"

Alexandra shrugs with a bit of a smile, once again leaning her hip against the counter, though this time out on the floor side, "Can't complain too much, though it's warmer than I'm used to. Poor Mac was shedding fit to drown someone when we first got here," and the Maine Coon is tickled at with the stick-toy, earning a disgruntled look before he gets up to stalk off into the shelves with a flick of his tail. Thou hast been Snubbed.

"Though I admit, that 'Zone' place I've heard mentioned makes me nervous. I can't imagine a city getting that bad off, really." The shopkeep shakes her head, grimacing, "Even the bad areas of town back home weren't like /that/."

"Yeah, that's why I don't own pets. All the-- the shedding and the shitting and the whining. I'm not owning a pet unless and until it cleans up after itself, or I hire someone to do it for me." Petra's lips curve up into a little half-smile, and she finally takes a sip of that coffee, having now deemed it cool enough to drink. "Yeah, the Zone's not someplace you wanna go wandering into without like, heavy arms. Rest of the city's a paradise in contrast. Though there's people trynna clean it up, bit by bit."

"I'm not sure what I'd do without Machiavelli, really," Alexandra smiles a bit wryly, looking after where the cat wandered off to. "I've only had him a couple years, and already I can't imagine him not being around, y'know? And I've met a couple that actually work in there, run a pawn shop." Shaking her head, the older woman sets the cat-toy on the counter and starts idly fiddling with a few of those tiny ceramic animals that old ladies seem to go nuts over, straightening them on their shelf. "Seems like a crazy level of risk, to me."

"Oh yeah-- I think I know that couple. Trace 'n Deacon? Yeah, they get all sorts." Petra shakes her head, vaguely amused and chagrined all at once. "It '''is''' a crazy level of risk, if you don't know what you're gettin' into. Somebody that doesn't know how to fight, doesn't know the Zone... they try something like that, and they're going to end up robbed at best. But, y'know. If that's the kinda life you know, then that's what you stick with, yeah?"

"Oh, you know them?" Alexandra leaves the little ceramic beasties alone, wandering back over to stand near Petra, just in easy conversation range, "Yes, Deacon at least strikes me as the sort not to have trouble with that sort of environment." She shivers and shakes her head, "Not my idea of a restful neighborhood, though. I'll stay out here where it's mostly safe, thanks."

"Yeah, I know 'em. They're interesting, to say the least." Petra grins, leaning up against the jewelry counter and taking a long sip of her coffee. "Assuming we're talking about the same couple that runs a pawn shop. Could be there's more 'n one. These two are pretty distinctive, though. He talk with like, a Russian accent?"

Alexandra nods, "Yes, that's him, Trace's husband." Then her lips quirk to one side and she gestures vaguely at Petra, "How about you? You said you haven't been here all that long yourself, what do you think of the city? Anything I should know about besides which cabbies are good?"

"Heh, that's a loaded question if ever I heard one," Petra says, still smiling. She frowns though, as she more seriously considers the question. "It's a good city-- got good people in it, trying to be cool. But it's also, you know. It's like there's the Zone, yeah? Stuff like that. Unhappy shit. You just gotta find the diamonds in the rough, y'know? You gotta find the good shit among all the '''shit''' shit, and you gotta find it 'fore you get too fed up."

That lopsided smile turns into a wry sort of a grin, "Before you get too much shit on you, hm?" Alexandra's tone is a bit teasing, perhaps poking at Petra's choice of words as much as the sentiment behind it, but she doesn't start in on a tirade about language. "I've already seen some of the good things, here and there. And I'm used to looking for things that are hard to spot. You could say that's what got me into this line of work, in a way."

"Exactly!" Petra says brightly, as though she hasn't caught the play on words whatsoever. "And yeah, that does seem like the kinda thing that'd getcha far in this line of work. You gotta keep searchin' til you find the good shit. One man's trash is another man's treasure, and all that shit. I mean, people will surprise you, if nothin' else. Some o' the best people I know are like, cabbies, security guards, pizza delivery drivers, you know. Normal stuff, extraordinary people."

Another nod, and Alexandra waves a hand at the row of old soda bottles behind the counter, "Like those things. Every day, more of the same are just thrown out by people that don't even think about it. But someday, to some person, they're worth a great deal, for whatever reason." The woman laughs and shakes her head a little, "Really, I've got some things sitting in the back that I'm not sure anyone but a hardcore collector or eccentric would bye. Miss Harkness had some weird things in stock when I took over."

"Exaaaactly!" Petra says, really warming to the topic, though it's the mention of truly hardcore collector items that perks her up the most. She sets down a piece of jewelry she'd been idly fiddling with and grins toothily. "Please tell me you're gonna let me lookit some o' that stuff. I am nothing if not eccentric!"

"What, you have a thing for small animal skeletons?" laughs the antiquarian, then shrugs and moves back behind the counter lazily, "Most of it's just kind of odd. Little things that aren't worth much, but are kind of neat just by themselves. Like, well..." She bends to rummage under the counter a little, then comes up with what looks like, at first glance, a flower. But a closer look would reveal that the petals are old, almost translucent silk, and the stem is fine wire, "Like this thing. Nice enough, but what are you going to do with it?"

"Small animal skeletons are fuckin' awesome!" Petra possibly predictably responds. Also, alliteration! The flower catches her interest immediately though, and she bends over the counter a bit to just lightly touch the edge of one petal. "I dunno, that's pretty cool if you ask me. I'm not sure it's '''exactly''' what I want to buy, but... you know. I like the things that others don't."

Alexandra nods, "Exactly. I've got some things in the back room which are ''fascinating'', but I don't think are really ''sellable''. This is only back here because I'm afraid it'll get damaged if I leave it out on the floor, it's that old." Indeed, the petal under Petra's finger is more like tissue paper than cloth, and the older woman sets it back in its hiding place beneath the counter after a moment. "But things like that, wooden dice, a mouse-skull carved out of cement... oddities. Kind of fascinating, really."

"Wooden dice like... like d20s? Or like just regular, you know, Monopoly dice? This mouse-skull cement thing-- can I see that? I might actually buy something like that. It's a talking piece, if nothing else." Petra really and honestly does seem interested by these items. That or she's a damned good liar, trying to make nice. "This is some great stuff! I'll bet you could find buyers for some o' this, even if I don't. Lotta odd people in this town."

"Heh. If you wait here a sec, I'll go grab them," promises the shopkeep, and heads for the door back into the Employee's Only room. There's a bit of a wait, but not a bad one, before she emerges again carrying a cardboard filing-box, which she sets carefully down on the counter and rummages in a little. The concrete skull is placed on the counter, being small enough to easily fit in the hollow of someone's palm, and a small handful of wooden six-sided dice are soon poured out nearby as well from a little leather cup, "Like I said. Little things that I'm just not sure what to do with."

"You should give this stuff its own corner," Petra advises in all seriousness. "You know, like an oddities section. I, for example, will totally buy this fuckin' concrete skull, cuz that is pretty much the most awesomest thing I've ever seen. The dice'll likely appeal to games-oriented people. I'd buy 'em if I weren't so fixated on this damned skull. And that flower has 'win' written all over it." The skull, she picks up and eyes closely, looking tickled pink with her potential purchase.

The little concrete carving is a delicate thing, obviously the work of much care and time. Really, if it weren't for the obvious stone texture and weight, it could practically be the real thing. "You really think so? I wasn't sure if there'd be any interest in them, really." She grins at Petra's obvious fascination with the new find, idly twiddling one of those dice around on the countertop with a fingertip, "It's nice to see I'm not the only one with odd tastes in hobbies."

"You are most '''definitely''' not alone," Petra says firmly, her eyes focused on the carving. Finally, she nods her head approvingly, setting it down on the counter. "And I really do think so. A spot for, you know, the really cool but strange things in life. Like, those old clothes you had out there, but the really gaudy stuff, you know? People like that stuff, only they often won't admit it. But if you don't judge them for it, they'll buy."

"Hm, you could be right," muses Alexandra as she scoops up those dice, pouring them back into their cup before setting that back inside the box. She picks up the skull and grins, holding it up and wiggling it playfully at the other woman, "You know, I'm honestly not sure how much to charge for this? What say you make me an offer."

"Oho. Make an offer. As though the grace and beauty of my presence were not enough? My wit, my charm, my lovely company? Alexandra, you wound me deeply." Petra doesn't look wounded of course, though she makes a good showing of it. "Okay, okaaaaay. How about, hm. Twenty-five buckaroos? I'm not sure what it's worth, to be honest."

Alexandra smirks at the bemoaning, and makes a show of starting to turn away, closing her hand around the little skull, "Well, if you're /that/ perturbed..." But the opening bid stops her, and the smirk pulls into a grin, "With how taken you were with it, and how delicate the worksmanship is, I'd say at /least/ forty. Not counting tax." The game's afoot!

"Aw, no. Why you gotta be like that?" Petra bemoans, eyes following the skull as Alexandra starts to move it away. And then when the price is upped, she can't help but laugh, though she aims to look stricken. "Okay. Okay. Forty. But no more than forty! Not even a penny more!" Only, there's just something about the way she keeps eyeing that thing that suggests she'll be '''happy''' to pay forty, and probably more.

Perhaps noticing that avaricious gleam in Petra's eye, Alexandra holds the little skull out to one side, just to see if the girl watches it and not her. Like a bird caught by a shinything. "Forty before tax, done!" Is that what you agreed to? But then she's ringing up the sale, and grins over at her latest victim, "Cash or credit?"

Petra does, indeed, watch the skull and not Alexandra, though then she has the peace of mind to look away, embarrassed. She rubs at the back of her neck, shrugging, and looks pretty well happy about her purchase, forty plus tax and all. "Cash," she answers, drawing her wallet out of her pocket. It's pretty well stuffed with cash, so that may help explain why she's not too bothered about such an expensive purchase. Of a '''concrete mouse skull,''' no less.

Another laugh, and the cash gets stuffed into the drawer and a receipt printed out. "You want a bag for it, or are you going to fiddle with it all the way home?" Alexandra teases, holding the little thing just out of easy reach of the other woman. Though one supposes Petra could try lunging across the counter and making a grab for it, but that'd be silly. She's still got her coffee, after all.

"You taunt and you tease," Petra says sadly. "But one day. One day your customers will rise up against you. And lo, THERE WILL BE A RECKONING!" she mock-pouts, shaking a fist dramatically. She does not, in fact, lunge across the counter, but she at the very least pretends to consider it. Then, she has a nice calm sip of coffee, as though she hadn't just done that.

Snickering, the antiquarian sets the little carved skull down on the counter and takes her hands away as though worried she might lose fingers if she isn't fast enough, "Alright, alright, I didn't expect a sort of Spanish Inquisition. Call off the uprising."

Right on cue, Petra exclaims, "NOOOOOO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!" Thankfully, she does not in fact launch into the entire spiel, but you can tell she's thinking about it. Instead, she cheerily lifts up her carved skull and gives it a good eying. They've been parted for too long! "Thanks!" she says brightly.

Alexandra cackles at the shared joke, then apparently decides to go back to the earlier topic of conversation, before all this rampant silliness broke out, "You'd better be careful, though. If you like little weird things that much, you might end up spending way too much money when I start digging through the Weird Stuff shelf." She leans an elbow on that box she pulled out, "I'm honestly not sure where Miss Harkness ''got'' some of this stuff."

Rampant silliness must be crushed before it spreads! "I like this partly because it's tiny," Petra says, and of course needs to give the thing another good eying. "Weird plus tiny equals win. Weird and unwanted and tiny equals double-plus good. And yeah, I dunno where you'd even get stuff like this. You knooooow... it seems like you and Trace 'n Deacon could get a good trade goin'. Like, people come in to bring you something too 'new' for this shop, you send them there, and vice versa. I mean, you aren't going to find pawn shop clientele that're wanting something like this skull, but you're not going to get antique shop clientele that want a modern television set, most likely."

"Hm, possibly. Depends how willing the sort of people that would come in here would be to go someplace like the Zone," and Alexandra grimaces a bit, clearly somewhat disquieted even by mentioning the place. But then she shakes her head and smiles a bit fondly, "Deacon actually bought one of the coke bottles. It's why there's a gap on the shelf, I haven't gotten around to resorting them yet. I might not bother."

"True, true," Petra says with a nod. "Well, perhaps as a side to that, maybe you two could come to some kind of business arrangement where if they come across something that's better for your place, they'll sell it to you at whatever cost they got it at, and vice versa. I mean, obviously you'd hafta get to know each other better for that to work, but... you know. It could work." She looks over to the coke bottles, grinning. "I could see him likin' those, yeah. He's a pretty cool guy."

"He's... interesting, yes." Normally that sort of pause might suggest interest in beefcake, but Alexandra's expression is more thoughtful than anything, and that slight frown is turned to that gap in the row of bottles. But she shakes off the mood and grins a bit lopsidedly at Petra, "There's been a little talk of that, or at least peripherally. Apparently they've got something at their shop they wanted some help getting appraised. I'll probably give it a looking over when we can get our schedules to agree."

"Mm," Petra agrees, and much like Alexandra's pause, her 'mm' is more of the thoughtful variety than the hubba hubba kind. Alas for Jude Law! "Appraisal's good. That's a useful skill I should really learn. I dunno what I'd use it for, but you can never have too many skills, or too much knowledge, y'know? You never find yourself going, 'Gosh, I wish I hadn't learned how to cook shrimp' or 'Gee, wish I didn't understand this math!'"

"I find it's good to have at least a little knowledge about everything you can find, really," agrees Alexandra, nodding. "Even just for this shop, it's been a great help that I know how to sew, how to deal with cleaning solvents, what's needed to get what kinds of stains out of what materials... You'd be amazed when that little bit of knowledge comes in handy. Even something like knowing that you can use Coke to clean the junk off car-battery terminals." She laughs a bit at herself for that one, "You pick up some strange things in college."

"Man. I need to learn how to sew!" Petra says with a laugh. "And how to get stains out of materials! Damned if I know that one. I would '''really''' like to know how to get blood out of clothes." Pause. "Nono, I hunt. Like, deer. Currently I just keep one pair of clothes for hunting purposes, and if they get wrecked, you know, no biggie. But it'd be nice to know for the future."

"Generally, scrubbing at the bloodstain with hydrogen peroxide does the trick," is the ready answer from Alexandra. "Can bleach the cloth if you overdo it, though. If it's a fresh spot, scrubbing under cold water is usually enough. Sometimes it helps to put salt in the water, too, but make sure it's /cold/. Hot water will just set the stain worse." Her grin pulls up on one side, eyes crinkling up at the corners, "You learn something new every day."

"And I've learned my new thing for the day, SWEET." Petra actually pulls her iPhone out of her pocket, starting to (presumably) take notes on how to solve her bloody clothes issue. "Thank you," she says brightly, and puts her phone away again. "I got a huntin' buddy will like hearing that, too. Seems a shame to just toss out a whole set of clothing when it's totally fixable, y'know?"

Alexandra nods, "Basically, just make sure not to heat the stain, either when you're trying to wash it or when drying it afterwards. If it's been set for a while, though, there's little you can do except bleach the whole works. Best to get it when it's fresh." Lecture apparently completed, she folds her arms and leans against the counter again, "I've never been hunting. Up in Massachusetts, there's not really much room for it, even if I'd wanted to."

"It's..." Petra shakes her head, searching for the right words, and comes up with, "...it's a rush. I mean, it's really a test of your skills, y'know? You against your prey. They want to live, you want tasty supper. You gotta not be a dick about it, o'course, and all that, but it's pretty fuckin' sweet."

"I can imagine," the older woman nods. "We once had to live by a much more primal set of rules than we do now, and part of us never really forgets that, I think. Just one of those things about being human." Then she grins, "Though really, I'm not sure what I'd do even if I did end up with a dead animal. Another thing I never learned. Dealing with the things you can get from one, sure, but the carcass itself?" She shakes her head, then laughs a little, "Listen to us, someone walking in would think we're crazy or something."

"Exactly," Petra says, nodding her head. "It's primal 'n shit, just like you say. And yeah, I had '''no''' idea how to deal with the thing once I was done killin' it, but my huntin' buddy taught me. And I'm pretty fuckin' amazing at it, notgonnalie." She gives a toothy grin at that, no hint of self-doubt. "Y'know... if you '''do''' get interested in checkin' it out, you oughta talk to Damian about it. He can setcha up."

"I'll certainly keep it in mind," Alexandra promises, not looking daunted or even squeamish in the slightest. "I've mainly been busy getting this place set up properly up to now, but things seem to be steadying in nicely. I'll have to start sniffing around the town, see what I can find. Even if it's just a good place for takeout."

"One word of advice, though: if you're planning on joining us sometime, do some jogging, some sprinting, that kinda thing, if you don't already. Cuz we don't hunt with guns." Petra then looks about the room appraisingly, nodding her head. "Yeah, the place does look really well set up. For takeout, I dunno a good Chinese place, but the best pizza joint's Pizza Palace. Ask for Joel if you want the best service. And... hm. You might like Treasure Town. That's a thrift store in town. You can sometimes discover some good finds there."

Alexandra does look a bit daunted at the bit about getting in shape, "Goodness. Well, that'd certainly give me a reason to go out running more often, I suppose." The businesses being listed off brings a smile to her face and she nods at each, "I'm lucky I ran into you like I did, you're being a marvelous help getting me settled in."

"Running is awesome!" Petra says, and flexes her nonexistent bicep muscles for no obvious reason. "A lotta people I know like to go runnin'. You ever wanna run, you gimme a call at the shop. Or hey, I could give you my email address, if I didn't already." The compliment makes her wave a dismissive hand. "Pssssh. I just like showin' off my world-class city knowledge. It's World. Class." Another flex of the muscles for that.

"Sure, I'll put you in my list," snickers the antiquarian as she tugs her own smartphone out of a pocket, thumbing through the icons until she gets to her contacts. Once she's got Petra's information noted down she clicks the device off again but just holds it for now, not bothering to stuff it back into its pocket just yet. "You'll have to bring some of your friends by someday. If any of them like oddities the way you do, I might have to change my business."

"Changing people's business and gettin' all up in their bidness is MY business!" Petra says brightly, and then taps her forehead. "Oh, that reminds me! You were going to give me some business cards to hand out, if it should come up. I like havin' that kinda thing on hand so I don't gotta find a pen to note stuff down."

Nodding, Alexandra just takes the little stack of cards propped up near the cash register and passes them to Petra, "Here, I'll get more out of the back later." The card's nothing fancy in itself, with the store's name, a phone number and address on the front, and business hours on the back. The front's got a nice, colorful floral arrangement in one corner to try and liven it up a little, though. "The hours tend to wander a little, since I own the place and don't have any employees. Sometimes I get in late, sometimes I stay open late. It evens out."

"I'll let people know that, yeah," Petra says with a nod. She takes the cards and tucks them into a pocket, then smiles. "And now that you've made me spend all my money and I've agreed to hawk your wares, I should really get headed home before you talk me out of my clothes. Not that I'd mind, mind you, but it's such a hassle replacing outfit after outfit because of that."

"And it's a bit chilly to be running around starkers, too," smirks the shopkeep with an eye to the coffee that Petra was so eager to acquire when she first came in. "I'll just have to fleece you for more next time to make up for my giving and soft-hearted nature." Then she grins with a wrinkling of her nose, "Now get going before you spot something else interesting, eh?"

"So coooooold," Petra moans, and sets her cup of coffee down. She did, in the end, manage to drink most of it, but there's a little left over. "Oh god now I have to go back out in it, WHY GOD WHYYYYYY?" she cries, as she heads for the door and out, her calls heard right up until the door closes behind her.

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - A Question of Value/Log

2011-04-07T11:48:38Z

Chaemera: This just in, Petra is a ham.

It's one of those evenings where all the things on the shelves have been straightened, there's nobody bustling about in the aisles, and winter is making it just chilly enough outside that not many folks are out and just wandering.

Which is why Alexandra is being Incredibly Industrious and is entertaining a large, fluffy Maine Coon with a feather on the end of a stick, which he's batting and chirping at. It's one of her primary duties here at the store, don't you know?

The chime above the door jingles as Petra shuffles into the shop, muttering, "Cold cold COLD cold cold," and then steps further in to close the door behind her. "It's cold," she notes unnecessarily, and doesn't get around to taking off her gloves yet. "Hello!" she adds brightly.

Alexandra looks up at the jingle of the door-bell, which Machiavelli takes as his cue to snag the feather and try to make off with it. This time, however, the shopkeep manages to keep a grip and grins down at the cat as he initiates a tug of war. "Evening! And it's only a little chilly out," the woman behind the counter laughs before gesturing towards the little coffeepot she's set out near the cash register, "There's coffee if you want, or you can wait a bit and I can brew some tea? I figured you southerners aren't as used to the chill as I am."

"I'm not even a southerner," Petra says sadly. "It's just that cold is so ... so COLD!" As if on cue, she shivers a little. "Coffee sounds wonderful, tea sounds wonderful, it *all* sounds wonderful. Because it's HOT. Hot and DELICIOUS, hopefully." She steps closer to the cash register, giving the cat a thorough eyeing but not actually going into Kitty!Theatrics of Inanity.

Machiavelli is a suitably fierce specimen, roughly half-again as big as your average housecat and bulky. And currently attempting to yank his toy out of Alexandra's hands. Hah, have at you!

"Feel free to snag a cup, you look like you could use it," the shopkeep continues to grin, propping her hip on the edge of the counter. There's a little stack of paper cups near the coffeepot, which has been set to 'keep hot' mode, as well as a little thermos of milk and an actual sugar-bowl with a spoon. She probably found that last bit amongst her wares. "What brings you by, anyhow? Just coming to have a look around?"

"You have *old stuff,*" is Petra's very serious answer. She actually does sound interested, for what that's worth. She grabs a cup and pours herself a nice tall cup of coffee, which she doesn't doctor in the slightest. It gets blown over to cool it while she finally takes the time to look around the shop. "Heeeey, this stuff is cool!"

Alexandra can't help the laugh at Petra's enthusiasm, finally releasing the toy to Machiavelli's tender mercies. Which means he promptly loses interest and leaves it lying there on the floor as he begins to wash his face and forepaws. Silly mortals. "Well, yes, that's what an antique shop usually carries," Alexandra grins and comes out from behind the counter, leaving the dropleaf up. "I've had a surprising number of youngsters coming in looking for gifts since I opened her back up. It's nice."

Silly mortals indeed. For Petra's part, she's fascinatedly looking about, though the books catch her eye the most. She's looking for odd, quirky titles, since those are the sorts her eyes seem to stop on the most. "This'd be a great place for gifts, yeah. What kinda stuff do you have trouble keeping in stock, and what stuff can you barely manage to ever sell?"
[Public] [==---] Guest0 says, "I feel like I should say something about the kid in me... but I finished eating that little guy 12 hours ago."

"Well, the jewelry tends to cycle fairly quickly," and Alexandra gestures to where several old jewelry-boxes are laid out in one corner of the store on one of those old beasts of a vanity-set, the sort with three mirrors. The books seem to run the gamut in terms of genre, everything from old nature-documentation to "bodice-ripper" romance and even religious tomes. "Not many people seem interested in the cast-iron furniture, though. I'm not sure they realize it's for sale." Like the somewhat ornate stool in front of that vanity, done all in black iron. She shrugs, "But really, anything's as likely to sell as another. Everyone has something different call to them, I find."

"Yeah, I could see that-- especially about the jewelry. It's kinda timeless stuff, for the most part, and often people prefer it older and more ornate than the clean, plain stuff people sport these days." Petra smiles at some of the titles -- particularly Trade Routes of the 1500s for some reason, and then makes her way over to the jewelry, picking at it idly. Here, the Rule Of Petra Interest seems to be, the shinier the better. "So business is good, then?"

Alexandra nods, bending to pick up the toy Machiavelli was so interested in before and now is apparently ignoring with a passion, "Good enough, certainly. I wouldn't say it's anything extraordinary, but I certainly can't complain." In the jewelry boxes is, almost literally, a little bit of everything. A heavy signet ring that's clearly sized for a man sits right next to a delicate bracelet that's little more than carefully twisted silver wire holding clear gems just big enough to sparkle, "And I've even had a couple repeat customers, which is always nice."

"Repeat customers, already? Pretty fuckin' sweet. Well, I can see why. Ya got nice hospitality, nice wares, the whole nine yards." Petra picks at the jewelry with the same interest she had for the books, if even a little more. Several pieces are lifted out of the box and inspected carefully, though none are kept out as though she has intent to buy. "You liking Albuquerque so far?"

Alexandra shrugs with a bit of a smile, once again leaning her hip against the counter, though this time out on the floor side, "Can't complain too much, though it's warmer than I'm used to. Poor Mac was shedding fit to drown someone when we first got here," and the Maine Coon is tickled at with the stick-toy, earning a disgruntled look before he gets up to stalk off into the shelves with a flick of his tail. Thou hast been Snubbed.

"Though I admit, that 'Zone' place I've heard mentioned makes me nervous. I can't imagine a city getting that bad off, really." The shopkeep shakes her head, grimacing, "Even the bad areas of town back home weren't like /that/."

"Yeah, that's why I don't own pets. All the-- the shedding and the shitting and the whining. I'm not owning a pet unless and until it cleans up after itself, or I hire someone to do it for me." Petra's lips curve up into a little half-smile, and she finally takes a sip of that coffee, having now deemed it cool enough to drink. "Yeah, the Zone's not someplace you wanna go wandering into without like, heavy arms. Rest of the city's a paradise in contrast. Though there's people trynna clean it up, bit by bit."

"I'm not sure what I'd do without Machiavelli, really," Alexandra smiles a bit wryly, looking after where the cat wandered off to. "I've only had him a couple years, and already I can't imagine him not being around, y'know? And I've met a couple that actually work in there, run a pawn shop." Shaking her head, the older woman sets the cat-toy on the counter and starts idly fiddling with a few of those tiny ceramic animals that old ladies seem to go nuts over, straightening them on their shelf. "Seems like a crazy level of risk, to me."

"Oh yeah-- I think I know that couple. Trace 'n Deacon? Yeah, they get all sorts." Petra shakes her head, vaguely amused and chagrined all at once. "It *is* a crazy level of risk, if you don't know what you're gettin' into. Somebody that doesn't know how to fight, doesn't know the Zone... they try something like that, and they're going to end up robbed at best. But, y'know. If that's the kinda life you know, then that's what you stick with, yeah?"

"Oh, you know them?" Alexandra leaves the little ceramic beasties alone, wandering back over to stand near Petra, just in easy conversation range, "Yes, Deacon at least strikes me as the sort not to have trouble with that sort of environment." She shivers and shakes her head, "Not my idea of a restful neighborhood, though. I'll stay out here where it's mostly safe, thanks."

"Yeah, I know 'em. They're interesting, to say the least." Petra grins, leaning up against the jewelry counter and taking a long sip of her coffee. "Assuming we're talking about the same couple that runs a pawn shop. Could be there's more 'n one. These two are pretty distinctive, though. He talk with like, a Russian accent?"

Alexandra nods, "Yes, that's him, Trace's husband." Then her lips quirk to one side and she gestures vaguely at Petra, "How about you? You said you haven't been here all that long yourself, what do you think of the city? Anything I should know about besides which cabbies are good?"

"Heh, that's a loaded question if ever I heard one," Petra says, still smiling. She frowns though, as she more seriously considers the question. "It's a good city-- got good people in it, trying to be cool. But it's also, you know. It's like there's the Zone, yeah? Stuff like that. Unhappy shit. You just gotta find the diamonds in the rough, y'know? You gotta find the good shit among all the *shit* shit, and you gotta find it 'fore you get too fed up."

That lopsided smile turns into a wry sort of a grin, "Before you get too much shit on you, hm?" Alexandra's tone is a bit teasing, perhaps poking at Petra's choice of words as much as the sentiment behind it, but she doesn't start in on a tirade about language. "I've already seen some of the good things, here and there. And I'm used to looking for things that are hard to spot. You could say that's what got me into this line of work, in a way."

"Exactly!" Petra says brightly, as though she hasn't caught the play on words whatsoever. "And yeah, that does seem like the kinda thing that'd getcha far in this line of work. You gotta keep searchin' til you find the good shit. One man's trash is another man's treasure, and all that shit. I mean, people will surprise you, if nothin' else. Some o' the best people I know are like, cabbies, security guards, pizza delivery drivers, you know. Normal stuff, extraordinary people."

Another nod, and Alexandra waves a hand at the row of old soda bottles behind the counter, "Like those things. Every day, more of the same are just thrown out by people that don't even think about it. But someday, to some person, they're worth a great deal, for whatever reason." The woman laughs and shakes her head a little, "Really, I've got some things sitting in the back that I'm not sure anyone but a hardcore collector or eccentric would bye. Miss Harkness had some weird things in stock when I took over."

"Exaaaactly!" Petra says, really warming to the topic, though it's the mention of truly hardcore collector items that perks her up the most. She sets down a piece of jewelry she'd been idly fiddling with and grins toothily. "Please tell me you're gonna let me lookit some o' that stuff. I am nothing if not eccentric!"

"What, you have a thing for small animal skeletons?" laughs the antiquarian, then shrugs and moves back behind the counter lazily, "Most of it's just kind of odd. Little things that aren't worth much, but are kind of neat just by themselves. Like, well..." She bends to rummage under the counter a little, then comes up with what looks like, at first glance, a flower. But a closer look would reveal that the petals are old, almost translucent silk, and the stem is fine wire, "Like this thing. Nice enough, but what are you going to do with it?"

"Small animal skeletons are fuckin' awesome!" Petra possibly predictably responds. Also, alliteration! The flower catches her interest immediately though, and she bends over the counter a bit to just lightly touch the edge of one petal. "I dunno, that's pretty cool if you ask me. I'm not sure it's *exactly* what I want to buy, but... you know. I like the things that others don't."

Alexandra nods, "Exactly. I've got some things in the back room which are ''fascinating'', but I don't think are really ''sellable''. This is only back here because I'm afraid it'll get damaged if I leave it out on the floor, it's that old." Indeed, the petal under Petra's finger is more like tissue paper than cloth, and the older woman sets it back in its hiding place beneath the counter after a moment. "But things like that, wooden dice, a mouse-skull carved out of cement... oddities. Kind of fascinating, really."

"Wooden dice like... like d20s? Or like just regular, you know, Monopoly dice? This mouse-skull cement thing-- can I see that? I might actually buy something like that. It's a talking piece, if nothing else." Petra really and honestly does seem interested by these items. That or she's a damned good liar, trying to make nice. "This is some great stuff! I'll bet you could find buyers for some o' this, even if I don't. Lotta odd people in this town."

"Heh. If you wait here a sec, I'll go grab them," promises the shopkeep, and heads for the door back into the Employee's Only room. There's a bit of a wait, but not a bad one, before she emerges again carrying a cardboard filing-box, which she sets carefully down on the counter and rummages in a little. The concrete skull is placed on the counter, being small enough to easily fit in the hollow of someone's palm, and a small handful of wooden six-sided dice are soon poured out nearby as well from a little leather cup, "Like I said. Little things that I'm just not sure what to do with."

"You should give this stuff its own corner," Petra advises in all seriousness. "You know, like an oddities section. I, for example, will totally buy this fuckin' concrete skull, cuz that is pretty much the most awesomest thing I've ever seen. The dice'll likely appeal to games-oriented people. I'd buy 'em if I weren't so fixated on this damned skull. And that flower has 'win' written all over it." The skull, she picks up and eyes closely, looking tickled pink with her potential purchase.

The little concrete carving is a delicate thing, obviously the work of much care and time. Really, if it weren't for the obvious stone texture and weight, it could practically be the real thing. "You really think so? I wasn't sure if there'd be any interest in them, really." She grins at Petra's obvious fascination with the new find, idly twiddling one of those dice around on the countertop with a fingertip, "It's nice to see I'm not the only one with odd tastes in hobbies."

"You are most *definitely* not alone," Petra says firmly, her eyes focused on the carving. Finally, she nods her head approvingly, setting it down on the counter. "And I really do think so. A spot for, you know, the really cool but strange things in life. Like, those old clothes you had out there, but the really gaudy stuff, you know? People like that stuff, only they often won't admit it. But if you don't judge them for it, they'll buy."

"Hm, you could be right," muses Alexandra as she scoops up those dice, pouring them back into their cup before setting that back inside the box. She picks up the skull and grins, holding it up and wiggling it playfully at the other woman, "You know, I'm honestly not sure how much to charge for this? What say you make me an offer."

"Oho. Make an offer. As though the grace and beauty of my presence were not enough? My wit, my charm, my lovely company? Alexandra, you wound me deeply." Petra doesn't look wounded of course, though she makes a good showing of it. "Okay, okaaaaay. How about, hm. Twenty-five buckaroos? I'm not sure what it's worth, to be honest."

Alexandra smirks at the bemoaning, and makes a show of starting to turn away, closing her hand around the little skull, "Well, if you're /that/ perturbed..." But the opening bid stops her, and the smirk pulls into a grin, "With how taken you were with it, and how delicate the worksmanship is, I'd say at /least/ forty. Not counting tax." The game's afoot!

"Aw, no. Why you gotta be like that?" Petra bemoans, eyes following the skull as Alexandra starts to move it away. And then when the price is upped, she can't help but laugh, though she aims to look stricken. "Okay. Okay. Forty. But no more than forty! Not even a penny more!" Only, there's just something about the way she keeps eyeing that thing that suggests she'll be *happy* to pay forty, and probably more.

Perhaps noticing that avaricious gleam in Petra's eye, Alexandra holds the little skull out to one side, just to see if the girl watches it and not her. Like a bird caught by a shinything. "Forty before tax, done!" Is that what you agreed to? But then she's ringing up the sale, and grins over at her latest victim, "Cash or credit?"

Petra does, indeed, watch the skull and not Alexandra, though then she has the peace of mind to look away, embarrassed. She rubs at the back of her neck, shrugging, and looks pretty well happy about her purchase, forty plus tax and all. "Cash," she answers, drawing her wallet out of her pocket. It's pretty well stuffed with cash, so that may help explain why she's not too bothered about such an expensive purchase. Of a *concrete mouse skull,* no less.

Another laugh, and the cash gets stuffed into the drawer and a receipt printed out. "You want a bag for it, or are you going to fiddle with it all the way home?" Alexandra teases, holding the little thing just out of easy reach of the other woman. Though one supposes Petra could try lunging across the counter and making a grab for it, but that'd be silly. She's still got her coffee, after all.

"You taunt and you tease," Petra says sadly. "But one day. One day your customers will rise up against you. And lo, THERE WILL BE A RECKONING!" she mock-pouts, shaking a fist dramatically. She does not, in fact, lunge across the counter, but she at the very least pretends to consider it. Then, she has a nice calm sip of coffee, as though she hadn't just done that.

Snickering, the antiquarian sets the little carved skull down on the counter and takes her hands away as though worried she might lose fingers if she isn't fast enough, "Alright, alright, I didn't expect a sort of Spanish Inquisition. Call off the uprising."

Right on cue, Petra exclaims, "NOOOOOO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!" Thankfully, she does not in fact launch into the entire spiel, but you can tell she's thinking about it. Instead, she cheerily lifts up her carved skull and gives it a good eying. They've been parted for too long! "Thanks!" she says brightly.

Alexandra cackles at the shared joke, then apparently decides to go back to the earlier topic of conversation, before all this rampant silliness broke out, "You'd better be careful, though. If you like little weird things that much, you might end up spending way too much money when I start digging through the Weird Stuff shelf." She leans an elbow on that box she pulled out, "I'm honestly not sure where Miss Harkness ''got'' some of this stuff."

Rampant silliness must be crushed before it spreads! "I like this partly because it's tiny," Petra says, and of course needs to give the thing another good eying. "Weird plus tiny equals win. Weird and unwanted and tiny equals double-plus good. And yeah, I dunno where you'd even get stuff like this. You knooooow... it seems like you and Trace 'n Deacon could get a good trade goin'. Like, people come in to bring you something too 'new' for this shop, you send them there, and vice versa. I mean, you aren't going to find pawn shop clientele that're wanting something like this skull, but you're not going to get antique shop clientele that want a modern television set, most likely."

"Hm, possibly. Depends how willing the sort of people that would come in here would be to go someplace like the Zone," and Alexandra grimaces a bit, clearly somewhat disquieted even by mentioning the place. But then she shakes her head and smiles a bit fondly, "Deacon actually bought one of the coke bottles. It's why there's a gap on the shelf, I haven't gotten around to resorting them yet. I might not bother."

"True, true," Petra says with a nod. "Well, perhaps as a side to that, maybe you two could come to some kind of business arrangement where if they come across something that's better for your place, they'll sell it to you at whatever cost they got it at, and vice versa. I mean, obviously you'd hafta get to know each other better for that to work, but... you know. It could work." She looks over to the coke bottles, grinning. "I could see him likin' those, yeah. He's a pretty cool guy."

"He's... interesting, yes." Normally that sort of pause might suggest interest in beefcake, but Alexandra's expression is more thoughtful than anything, and that slight frown is turned to that gap in the row of bottles. But she shakes off the mood and grins a bit lopsidedly at Petra, "There's been a little talk of that, or at least peripherally. Apparently they've got something at their shop they wanted some help getting appraised. I'll probably give it a looking over when we can get our schedules to agree."

"Mm," Petra agrees, and much like Alexandra's pause, her 'mm' is more of the thoughtful variety than the hubba hubba kind. Alas for Jude Law! "Appraisal's good. That's a useful skill I should really learn. I dunno what I'd use it for, but you can never have too many skills, or too much knowledge, y'know? You never find yourself going, 'Gosh, I wish I hadn't learned how to cook shrimp' or 'Gee, wish I didn't understand this math!'"

"I find it's good to have at least a little knowledge about everything you can find, really," agrees Alexandra, nodding. "Even just for this shop, it's been a great help that I know how to sew, how to deal with cleaning solvents, what's needed to get what kinds of stains out of what materials... You'd be amazed when that little bit of knowledge comes in handy. Even something like knowing that you can use Coke to clean the junk off car-battery terminals." She laughs a bit at herself for that one, "You pick up some strange things in college."

"Man. I need to learn how to sew!" Petra says with a laugh. "And how to get stains out of materials! Damned if I know that one. I would *really* like to know how to get blood out of clothes." Pause. "Nono, I hunt. Like, deer. Currently I just keep one pair of clothes for hunting purposes, and if they get wrecked, you know, no biggie. But it'd be nice to know for the future."

"Generally, scrubbing at the bloodstain with hydrogen peroxide does the trick," is the ready answer from Alexandra. "Can bleach the cloth if you overdo it, though. If it's a fresh spot, scrubbing under cold water is usually enough. Sometimes it helps to put salt in the water, too, but make sure it's /cold/. Hot water will just set the stain worse." Her grin pulls up on one side, eyes crinkling up at the corners, "You learn something new every day."

"And I've learned my new thing for the day, SWEET." Petra actually pulls her iPhone out of her pocket, starting to (presumably) take notes on how to solve her bloody clothes issue. "Thank you," she says brightly, and puts her phone away again. "I got a huntin' buddy will like hearing that, too. Seems a shame to just toss out a whole set of clothing when it's totally fixable, y'know?"

Alexandra nods, "Basically, just make sure not to heat the stain, either when you're trying to wash it or when drying it afterwards. If it's been set for a while, though, there's little you can do except bleach the whole works. Best to get it when it's fresh." Lecture apparently completed, she folds her arms and leans against the counter again, "I've never been hunting. Up in Massachusetts, there's not really much room for it, even if I'd wanted to."

"It's..." Petra shakes her head, searching for the right words, and comes up with, "...it's a rush. I mean, it's really a test of your skills, y'know? You against your prey. They want to live, you want tasty supper. You gotta not be a dick about it, o'course, and all that, but it's pretty fuckin' sweet."

"I can imagine," the older woman nods. "We once had to live by a much more primal set of rules than we do now, and part of us never really forgets that, I think. Just one of those things about being human." Then she grins, "Though really, I'm not sure what I'd do even if I did end up with a dead animal. Another thing I never learned. Dealing with the things you can get from one, sure, but the carcass itself?" She shakes her head, then laughs a little, "Listen to us, someone walking in would think we're crazy or something."

"Exactly," Petra says, nodding her head. "It's primal 'n shit, just like you say. And yeah, I had *no* idea how to deal with the thing once I was done killin' it, but my huntin' buddy taught me. And I'm pretty fuckin' amazing at it, notgonnalie." She gives a toothy grin at that, no hint of self-doubt. "Y'know... if you *do* get interested in checkin' it out, you oughta talk to Damian about it. He can setcha up."

"I'll certainly keep it in mind," Alexandra promises, not looking daunted or even squeamish in the slightest. "I've mainly been busy getting this place set up properly up to now, but things seem to be steadying in nicely. I'll have to start sniffing around the town, see what I can find. Even if it's just a good place for takeout."

"One word of advice, though: if you're planning on joining us sometime, do some jogging, some sprinting, that kinda thing, if you don't already. Cuz we don't hunt with guns." Petra then looks about the room appraisingly, nodding her head. "Yeah, the place does look really well set up. For takeout, I dunno a good Chinese place, but the best pizza joint's Pizza Palace. Ask for Joel if you want the best service. And... hm. You might like Treasure Town. That's a thrift store in town. You can sometimes discover some good finds there."

Alexandra does look a bit daunted at the bit about getting in shape, "Goodness. Well, that'd certainly give me a reason to go out running more often, I suppose." The businesses being listed off brings a smile to her face and she nods at each, "I'm lucky I ran into you like I did, you're being a marvelous help getting me settled in."

"Running is awesome!" Petra says, and flexes her nonexistent bicep muscles for no obvious reason. "A lotta people I know like to go runnin'. You ever wanna run, you gimme a call at the shop. Or hey, I could give you my email address, if I didn't already." The compliment makes her wave a dismissive hand. "Pssssh. I just like showin' off my world-class city knowledge. It's World. Class." Another flex of the muscles for that.

"Sure, I'll put you in my list," snickers the antiquarian as she tugs her own smartphone out of a pocket, thumbing through the icons until she gets to her contacts. Once she's got Petra's information noted down she clicks the device off again but just holds it for now, not bothering to stuff it back into its pocket just yet. "You'll have to bring some of your friends by someday. If any of them like oddities the way you do, I might have to change my business."

"Changing people's business and gettin' all up in their bidness is MY business!" Petra says brightly, and then taps her forehead. "Oh, that reminds me! You were going to give me some business cards to hand out, if it should come up. I like havin' that kinda thing on hand so I don't gotta find a pen to note stuff down."

Nodding, Alexandra just takes the little stack of cards propped up near the cash register and passes them to Petra, "Here, I'll get more out of the back later." The card's nothing fancy in itself, with the store's name, a phone number and address on the front, and business hours on the back. The front's got a nice, colorful floral arrangement in one corner to try and liven it up a little, though. "The hours tend to wander a little, since I own the place and don't have any employees. Sometimes I get in late, sometimes I stay open late. It evens out."

"I'll let people know that, yeah," Petra says with a nod. She takes the cards and tucks them into a pocket, then smiles. "And now that you've made me spend all my money and I've agreed to hawk your wares, I should really get headed home before you talk me out of my clothes. Not that I'd mind, mind you, but it's such a hassle replacing outfit after outfit because of that."

"And it's a bit chilly to be running around starkers, too," smirks the shopkeep with an eye to the coffee that Petra was so eager to acquire when she first came in. "I'll just have to fleece you for more next time to make up for my giving and soft-hearted nature." Then she grins with a wrinkling of her nose, "Now get going before you spot something else interesting, eh?"

"So coooooold," Petra moans, and sets her cup of coffee down. She did, in the end, manage to drink most of it, but there's a little left over. "Oh god now I have to go back out in it, WHY GOD WHYYYYYY?" she cries, as she heads for the door and out, her calls heard right up until the door closes behind her.

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - A Question of Value

2011-04-07T11:40:11Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}09/29/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}04/06/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Petra]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - A Question of Value/Setting

2011-04-07T11:39:16Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - A Question of Value

2011-04-07T11:39:05Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{subst:Log}}'

Alexandra - Friendly Neighbors/Log

2011-04-06T16:40:33Z

Chaemera: Created page with 'Another day, slowly drawing to a close. The sun's been down for a good couple hours, though at this time of year that doesn't mean as much as it could. Dinner's been had, the nig…'

Another day, slowly drawing to a close. The sun's been down for a good couple hours, though at this time of year that doesn't mean as much as it could. Dinner's been had, the nightcrowd is out doing their thing, and a certain antiquarian is puttering around her store straightening things on the shelves. It's not likely she'll have too many customers at this point in the day, after all, so it gives her some time to get some neatening done. Machiavelli, ever helpful, is asleep on the counter in a large fluffy lump of feline.

Into the antiquary enters the Pawn Brokers. Hand in hand with Trace, Deacon pushes the front glass door open and then holds it for the small woman who enters behind him. Both step deeper into the shop, looking around absently, as they approach the counter.

Trace is a quiet little presence next to Deacon, hr dark eyes flicking back and forth as she takes in all the curiosities.

Alexandra glances over as the bell on the door jingles, then grins and waves to the pair as they come inside, "Well, hello again. Good to see you." She sets the little ceramic animal she was straightening back in place and dusts her hands, wandering over, "Stopping by for business or pleasure?"

"Just looking around, seeing new business." Deacon states quietly, glancing up at the woman running the shop, though his eyes are almost immediately diverted to the cat resting on the counter. Then, only for a second, and he glances at Trace beside him. Again taking in Alexandra, "We are not interrupting your closing?"

"Kitty!" says Trace. She leans up and kisses Deacon on the cheek, then she lets her hand trail out of his as she moves over to the counter. She crouches next to it to put her on eye-level with the cat and reaches out to scritch his head.

The shopkeep shakes her head to Deacon's question with a smile, "Oh no, I usually stay open until around 9 or so. Part of being the owner is letting me set my own hours." She waves vaguely around the room, "Just cleaning up a bit while it's slow, I don't usually get many customers at this hour."

Trace's greeting of the cat brings him to y-a-w-n and s-t-r-e-t-c-h as only large cats are able, the Maine Coon abruptly taking up far more space on the counter than he has any right to. A few sleepy blinks at the woman, and then he quirks an ear and starts sniffing curiously at her scratching hand, "Well, looks like he likes you. Machiavelli can be picky."

Deacon ambles over to the counter, nodding to Alexandra, "Da, is much easier when owning shop." At least for keeping hours, at any rate. While the taller of the twosome does not lower himself down to Machiavelli's height, he does test reaching out towards the feline. Slowly, like it might tear his hand off if he doesn't steadily creep.

"I like cats," Trace says to Alexandra, letting Machiavelli sniff her hand and then tickling his chin. "Pretty much any animal, really."

Machiavelli actually deigns to purr a little at Trace, though it's a lazy thing as befitting a beast of his stature. Deacon, on the other hand, earns a somewhat suspicious look, the cat's ears turning back. Not enough to indicate irritation, but that sense of uncertainty if he wants to put up with the man's presence. "It's been surprisingly busy here, lately. I knew the campus would bring in business, but I didn't expect as many as have been by. Lots of folks looking for gifts," says Alexandra.

"You will learning, quickly perhaps, Albuquerque is very strange city." Deacon indicates as he finally strokes his fingers down the cats back, once. Then he's stepping away, looking at some of the wares lining shelves. "However, is very strong Anthropology department at University, so shop like this is going to see many business from them."

"It's kinda like the upscale version of our place, so you'll get all the people who don't wanna come into the 'Zone," Trace says. She tickles under Machiavelli's chin, then along the side of his jaw.

"I can understand that," agrees Alexandra, leaning against a shelf and folding her arms, idly watching the pair of you interact with the cat. "No offense to your shop, of course, but that section of town's scary." She laughs and shakes her head a bit, "I'm too slow-blooded to work there, much less live out that way. You're brave folk."

"Not scary like where I am coming from. Tame." Deacon shrugs absently and kneels down to look at a particularly low sitting incense burner. Both arms hang at the wrist over his knees as he tilts his head one way, then the other, inspecting it. "People in Zone learn to leave shop alone, very quickly."

Trace chirps and purrs back at the cat, still scritching under his chin. Then she frowns a little, running her hand down the Maine Coon's spine. She seems to be paying more attention to the cat than the conversation between the other two.

Alexandra hms softly at Deacon's statements, then nods, "Your accent's pretty telling. I'm guessing you saw some action with the Bosnian conflict, maybe?" Pretty much as soon as the question's out of her mouth, though, the woman's lifting a hand to forestall reply, "Sorry, I don't mean to pry." Then she grins, "I just get curious, is all. And, well, you do strike me as being former military."

Machiavelli, for his part, leans into the attention he's getting from Trace, grumbling low in his chest about something or other before sprawling out even further on the counter, as though declaring territory.

Deacon glances over to towards Alexandra behind the counter and is quiet for a lot longer than most would find socially acceptable. In fact, he seems geared towards not answering at all, until he resumes inspecting the small burner he was previously looking over, "Da." Simple answer to a difficult, complicated, question. Both hands slide along his knees, then he's pushing up from the crouch and moving to join Trace by the furry territorially sprawled Machiavelli.

Trace glances at Deacon, raising a hand to lightly scratch her forehead in an absent sort of way. Then she goes back to stroking Mac, taking the risk of tickling his furry belly. It's a risky business, you never know if the cat will deign to accept it or if you've just bought yourself a ticket to claw-scratch city!

Deacon's response doesn't seem to phase Alexandra in the slightest, and she accepts it with a simple nod and smile, apparently understanding there are some things people just don't want to talk about. Instead, she changes the subject, "If there's anything around that catches your eye, feel free to have a look. I don't put fragile stuff out on the floor until I've restored it enough for people to handle."

Trace is not horrifically mauled, but she apparently has invited the cat to wrap around her hand, grab hold with all four paws, and play-gnaw at her fingers. His claws are in, though, and his teeth never break skin. Well, unless she freaks out on him, that is.

Deacon grows abysmally quiet. Not to the point to where he's devouring all sound or glowering indifferently with a hardened expression, but some topics leave an imprint, and that print lingers for a while. Glancing around, after nodding to Alexandra, "How much for incense burner?" Pointing to the particular one he was eying moments before. There is, however, one thing that can crack his mask.. and as he looks at Trace, he smiles. A distant sort of expression, but no less genuine, or accompanied by a wealth of emotion in his dark eyes.. at least until he turns his gaze elsewhere.

Trace grins and digs her fingers lightly into the cat's fur, tickling him harder. Even if he does bite or claw, she won't pull away. It's unlikely he'll get through her skin. When Deacon looks her way she glances back at him, almost as if she felt him turn her way, and she smiles back at him.

"For that one?" One of those designed to have the incense lit inside and have the smoke filter out through decorative holes in the cover, done in black metal with a firm, yet elegant style. "Call it... thirty dollars, plus tax?" Not a bad price, roughly equivalent to what you'd find a modern version going for really.

The cat seems to be getting into his little wrestle with Trace, growling playfully and kicking at her arm with his backfeet, tail lashing against the countertop and earning an amused look from Alexandra, "He must really like you. Most people he's pretty snooty towards."

"Thirty dollars." Deacon dips his head and slides a hand into one of the pockets of his leather coat, pulling out a gangster roll. One of those thick knots of bills that's more hundreds than fives? Thumbing off two twenties, he lays them on the counter and pushes them over to Alexandra. The roll is replaced in his pocket and he heads over to the shelf to collect up his newly acquired burner, turning it in his hand slowly with an approving nod. "Do you have bag?" At the counter, setting the item down with his palm loosely wrapped about it.

"Arrrr... don't kill my hand..." Trace play-fights right back with Machiavelli, booping his nose with her finger. She doesn't seem to mind the raking of her arm, and she bring in her other hand to tease at his tail.

Deacon watches Trace play fighting with the cat and cannot help the half smile creeping onto his face. His hand remains lazily laying on the burner, turning it slowly with his thumb and pinky. "Perhaps we should get ominous looking cat for pawn shop?"

Deacon's method of carrying his cash brings a quirk of a brow from Alexandra, but no other commentary. Instead, she just collects the tendered bills and rings up the sale, the apparently-antique register actually printing out a receipt. Maybe the innards are more modern. "I can actually wrap that up for you if you like?" she offers with a smile, setting the receipt and change on the counter before fishing out a smallish paper bag, one of those types with handles. The cat's Great Fierceness and Deacon's comment makes her laugh, "Get one of those big white cats, you can be like a movie villain and pet it menacingly."

Deacon flicks his eyes towards Alexandra when she mentions the movie villain and white cats, but it's with a distant sort of dry chuckle. "Da, please do." pushing the burner towards her with a stretching of his fingers that literally slides the metal object towards her across the wood. Hand free, he collects the change and pushes it down into a different pocket, again looking at some of the wares. This time those behind the counter on display.

"We'd need a big leather chair for that," Trace says. "Deacon would look good in it... and he has the accent." She eventually pries her hand from the cat, and there's no sign of scratches on any part of it. "He can sit with his back to the door and when people come in he can slowly turn around and be like 'I know what you are being to look for'." Her accent is ''terrible''.

Trace's 'acting' just brings Alexandra to roll her eyes and shake her head as she gathers up the incense burner, pulling a few sheets of newsprint out from under the counter to start bundling it up before bagging it. The shelves behind the counter hold all manner of items without any apparent organization to them at all; old toys, a few pairs of shoes of various sorts, nicknacks. The only thing in common is that they all are rather battered, some looking like they were 'stored' in someone's attic for several decades at best. And then there's the shelf of Coca Cola bottles through the years.

Machiavelli makes a disgruntled noise as Trace pulls free, sitting up and shaking his head before turning his back on the woman and starting to wash, tail curled around him to further complete the Snub.

It isn't long, though, before Deacon's purchase is safely bagged up and she offers it across to the pair with a grin, "Here you go."

"It is not very sportsman to making fun of mans accent..." Deacon says to Trace with a grin barely, just barely, curling his lips a tthe corners. A hand slides along the WOODEN counter and up the smaller of the pairs arm, settling at the back of her neck where it squeezes lightly. His gaze shifts slowly over the cola bottles, until he spies one particular design.. Raising a finger to point up at it, "Is that nineteen forty seven coca cola bottle?" There's a... look.. in his eyes. Difficult to explain, but even more so to read, since there's rarely anything 'on' his face to read in the first place.

Trace flicks her hand out and briefly tickles at that spot at the base of the cat's spine that is pretty much guaranteed to provoke a response. Then she looks at Deacon as he asks about the cola bottle, and she slips closer to him, tucking in under his arm.

Alexandra looks a little surprised at Deacon's picking out of a particular bottle, and she turns to regard the shelf, visibly (though silently) counting from one end until she reaches the target, "Yup, it is." She grins over her shoulder and teases lightly, "You've got an eye for old soda bottles, Deacon?"

Machiavelli has enough poise to at least take his sudden elevator-butt elegantly, pressing up into Trace's scratching fingers before turning it into one of those hips-up head-down stretches that seems to make the spine elongate by several inches.

Deacon is quiet, staring up at that bottle in a way that indicates perhaps he's looking well beyond the object, to another place.. or another time. Pursing his lips, he nods simply, once, "How much do you want for bottle?" The arm around Trace's shoulders curls in towards him, pulling her closer, head turning over to lay against her temple.

Trace slides her arm around Deacon's waist and cuddles in close to him, her other hand reaching up to lightly touch his cheek. She only has eyes for him for a brief span of time.

The antiquarian frowns slightly, considering the object in question. You can almost hear the adding machine going off behind her eyes. In the end, she names a price that's a little under what that particular style of bottle is worth on the collector-markets, but not so low as to be surprising. "You're the first that's ever asked about them, did you know? Most people seem to think they're just decoration."

Deacon may or may not be paying to the whole conversation. Wherever the sight of the bottle took him, it didn't leave much room for anything else. The rest of that sparse attention is on Trace, whom his kisses on the crown of her head, as he's fishing out that gangster roll. Twenty dollars, plus the change from his previous purchase. The exact reason for 'that' bottle, however, go unvoiced. There were older ones, likely some that were better collector items.. but he continues to cast his gaze up to it, almost as if instinctively drawn to the design.

"Can you wrap that up for us too?" Trace asks, glancing between Deacon and the bottle with a curious sort of expression.

Alexandra doesn't ask questions, though her eyes are curious as they rest on Deacon. She doesn't even ask this time before getting out the newsprint and bundling up the bottle, anticipating Trace's question with a wry smile for the other woman. She noticeably takes a bit more care with it than she did the incense burner from earlier, handing the bag across in both hands, "Here you go. Congratulations on finding it."

Deacon watches the entire process with a slow turning of his eyes, from retrieval, to wrapping, to bagging, and finally once it's held out to him. A long fingered hand slides around the handles of the bag and his brow begins to knit. A glance to Trace, then up at Alexandra, "Thank you." The second bag, the lesser of two finds, is taken as well. "We will get out of hair, let you close shop.. come by Lost and Found, sometime."

"Yes, please do," Trace says, nodding. "Maybe you'll find something there that you didn't know you lost." She smiles at Alexandra. "Have a good night!"

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - Friendly Neighbors

2011-04-06T16:29:44Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}09/29/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}04/06/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Deacon]]
* [[Trace]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - Friendly Neighbors/Setting

2011-04-06T16:28:56Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - Friendly Neighbors

2011-04-06T16:27:44Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{subst:Log}}'

Alexandra/Allies

2011-04-06T16:22:59Z

Chaemera:

{| align="center"
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Deacon]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Trace]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Petra]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Deacon.jpg|75px|The Lurk]]
| width="250" | '''''He watches.''' What does he watch for? His past?''
| [[Image:Trace.jpg|75px|The Face]]
| width="250" | '''''She talks.''' She and Deacon fit well together.''
| [[Image:Petra.jpg|75px|Colleague]]
| width="250" | '''''Curious girl.''' I like her. Might have some common ground in hobbies.''
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Joan]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Gareth]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Liane]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Joan.jpg|75px|Brass and Smoke]]
| width="250" | '''''Interesting taste.''' Will have to see if there's something for her hiding under the dust.''
| [[Image:Gareth.jpg|75px|The Mask]]
| width="250" | '''''Poor lad.''' Sometimes our armor lays heavy upon us.''
| [[Image:Liane.jpg|75px|Adorable]]
| width="250" | '''''One part''' of a much larger whole. I wonder...''
|}

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

Alexandra - Another Day/Log

2011-04-06T00:54:59Z

Chaemera: Formatting cleanup

Another day, another dollar. You don't really see a lot of bustle and noise at places like this, so it gives Alexandra plenty of time to do things on her own time. She's gotten the inventory to mostly make sense, gotten the place pretty much arranged how she likes it, and so... it gives her time to fiddle around with other stuff. Which is why she's leaning over the counter with one of those feathers-on-a-stick cat toys, amusing the rather large feline that actually runs this place by letting him bat at it.

In through the out door comes Gareth, hands shoved in his pockets, he shoulders his way past the door, and like before, stops and looks over the place before taking a further step in, like he's committing an impression of the place to memory. Then he steps in, glancing around curiously. "Hello?" he asks, his tone polite.

The woman behind the counter looks up at the dingle of the bell on the door, and Machiavelli takes his moment of distraction to snag the toy and tug it out of her hand, quickly scampering into the shelves with his prize and earning a laugh from Alexandra before she waves to Gareth, "Hey there. Any luck finding that gift you were looking for?"

Gareth spies the cat first, and smiles, his look suggesting that cats charm him. He starts to wander cataway, then looks up and blinks. "Huh?" he asks, a bit dumbly. "Which girl?" He gets an 'aw shucks' grin and scratches behind his ear, though keeping an eye out for interesting things on the shelves as he does.

Alexandra's eyebrow quirks up at that question, and she folds her arms with a mock-chiding expression, "And just how many girls do you owe gifts?" But she's grinning, "The one at the Apothecary. Speaking of, I ''did'' find an old set of tarot cards, though they're kind of beat up."

Gareth reaches out a hand for the cat to sniff - but doesn't maintain eye contact. He responds with a lazy shrug. "You'd be surprised," the college student says. He's standing by the counter now, apparently interested in gaining the friendship of a large and fluffy cat with a somewhat surly demeanor, if his player's memory serves him. He's facing Alexandra, who's behind the counter, and pauses at the second bit she says. "Oh! No, no, I don't need it- I was, ah, I thought I was going to go away for a little while, and I didn't-" He flashes a pained look. "She's not- we're just friends," he protests. "She's just...you know. A cool friend." He cranes his neck to glance over at the counter. "What're these tarot cards look like, anyways? Beat up might not be bad."

Machiavelli isn't so much surly as firmly convinced of his own moral, intellectual and spiritual superiority to you silly two-legged folk. But he deigns to look up from the feather-on-a-stick toy he stole from Alexandra and sniff Gareth's fingers inquisitively. Alexandra, for her part, regards Gareth's verbal flailing with an increasing air of amusement, resting her hip against the counter where she stands behind it with her arms crossed. "...I see," is all she says in the end, grin lurking around the edges of her mouth. The question about the cards, though, has her bending to rummage under the counter, "They're a divination system some people use. You familiar with them at all?"

And into that awkward scene comes Liane, to make things even MORE awkward! As usual, she arrives with that tall native American woman - lesbian lovers? BFFs? Babysitter to the wealthy? Liane doesn't LOOK all that rich...but she certainly looks like she can afford to shop here! Which is apparently her goal. She glances behind her, as if uncertain her friend will follow, but both eventually enter the shop and Liane moves to go look for the dress she was examining before - the embroidered dress, with several rips in the thread. It seems she hasn't recognized Gareth up there, yet!

"A little," Gareth says, drily. "I got the cards read to me once. Was pretty inneresting," he muses. "Can't imagine playing solitaire with them or nothing." He doesn't look up when the door opens, and totally doesn't notice Danny or Liane enter! Or he's ignoring them. It's quite possible. "I know some decks are different from the others, right? Do you have to use different hoodoo voodoo on 'em or anything?" he says this a bit dubiously.

Alexandra comes up from behind the counter with a pack of somewhat-grungy looking cards in a large ziploc. The cards themselves are noticeably larger than your average playing cards, and sized differently, longer. "Each deck has different symbolism on the cards themselves, thus carrying slightly different meanings. Some even have different cards altogether. But the general way to use them's pretty much the same." She glances up as the door's bell rings again, and grins when she spots the shy girl from before. "Just let me know if you need help with anything, miss." No bustling over and spooking the poor thing, nope.

Danny nods towards Alexandra, looking...well, just VERY SUBTLY interested in poking around. Not that those ill-suited to reading emotions, or those who don't know the bland woman would notice. Liane, for her part, reddens a touch and glances over quickly - not enough to make eye contact or anything - and gives a small nod, before taking the dress from its hanging place and downright ''scrutinizing'' those threads.

"Huh," Gareth says. He leans on the counter and looks at the cards, deeply curious. "Different meanings? Like each deck has different meanings or what?" He flashes a bit of a confused look at that. "How does that work? How do people keep 'em all straight?" He motions at the deck. "Can I look at 'em? How are these different from, like, other tarot card decks?" He has a look like he's about to handle a live snake. Interested and yet kind of repelled at the same time.

"Same way anyone keeps things straight. Memorization, mostly. Most decks these days come with little booklets with what each card means." Alexandra unzips the baggie and pulls the cards out, fanning them out a bit before selecting one and setting it face-up on the counter for Gareth to look at, putting the rest of the deck nearby, "Just for example, this one: the Magician. Usually symbolizes inventiveness, creativity, a willingness to think outside the lines, that kind of thing. You could probably find a deep, lengthy discussion on what all the stuff on the card means, but most people just go with the blurb." She gestures at the rest of the deck, "You do a reading by dealing the cards out in a specific pattern, with each location in that pattern changing what the card means a little."

At the moment, Alexandra and Gareth are standing at the counter, while Liane and her attending Danny are poking about elsewhere in the shop, the former examining an old, somewhat raggedy dress.

Evening time, and Gustavo has apparently been out running. He has Nike shorts on, running shoes, a fanny pack on his right hip and a backpack on his wide shoulders. A tanktop - grey, with 'USMC' on it covers a touch of his shoulders and his chest, but leaves his heavily muscled arms and tanned skin bare, enough to show the multicolored tattoo on his right shoulder, with 'USMC', the eagle globe and anchor and 'Semper Fedilis' under it in script. He had an iPod he was listening to, tugging the headphones off his head to rest around his neck as he steps into the shop, catching his breath.

The raggedy dress apparently has embroidery, which Liane is SCRUTINIZING INTENTLY. Still, something apparently pleases her, as she attempts to get the darn dress off the hanger it's on, and runs a hand over a bit of embroidery that hasn't been torn, looking rather pleased. She begins to make her way towards the counter, but the arrival of a buff bod into the store catches her player's attention (although Alas! Liane is faithful and wed!) and she catches sight of Gustavo. It takes a moment for things to connect, but then Liane blushes and gives a tiny wave in Gustavo's direction, lingering a little. Danny just gives a nod-- and good god, did her lips move into a smile? No, it must've been a trick of the light!

Gareth has his forearms on the counter. "Ah, memorization," Gareth says. "Bane of my college life." He's still flashing all sorts of curious look at the tarot cards on the counter. He hesitantly reaches for the Magician card and picks it up, scrutinizing it, but holding it delicately, like it might crumple and turn to dust in his hand. "This'd be good for a gift, though, right? Wouldn't be too weird or nothin'?" He flashes the magician card a dubious look, and then turns to the commotion. He looks over at the jogger in military tattoos, and then spies Liane, and waves in a baffled fashion, his expression seeming to say 'when did you get here?'

Gustavo steps into the shop - doing that sort of cop/ninja/Marine scan thing to check out exits, dangers, hotties - and smiles at Liane. "Mrs. Wiggings-Greyhawk," he greets Liane, 'Ma'am." To Danny, a grin, 'Miss." as he steps in. "How are you all doing? Sir," this to Gareth, "Miss," To Alexandra.

Clearly Liane is training to be a junior ninja. Fight fire with fire, right? Or smoke with smoke, or-- something ninja-y with something ninja-y. At being spotted by Gareth, she does the only proper ninja thing to do and waves her hand in his direction, making him forg-- wait, wrong genre and timepiece. So she just goes with pretending she was too distracted to acknowledge Gareth and not approaching to stab him in the back. "H-h-hello G-gustavo. And you t-too, G-gareth." Clever girl, she even looks faintly surprised to realize the one at the counter is Gareth! "Doing a b-bit of sh-shopping?"

Alexandra shrugs as Gareth asks about gift-appropriateness, "It depends on what she's into, really. Some people regard tarot as devil-worship, after all." The card Gareth's looking at doesn't feel any more fragile than a bit of cardstock would normally, just a bit scuffed up. Probably crammed in the bottom of a storage chest for years or something.

Liane's find is removed from its hanger without undue stress, and she'd certainly notice from her close inspection that some effort's been made to at least get the garment serviceable, if not into mint condition. Some moth-damage has been repaired, a seam or two fixed, that kind of thing.

Gustavo's entrance has Alexandra looking up as the bell rings again, and she returns the officer's greeting with a smile, "Doing fine, officer. What brings you by tonight?"

When Gareth is called 'sir' he flashes Gustavo a deeply confused look, and immediately looks around to see who this 'sir' might be. Gareth's gaze focuses on the cat, who has an expression like the cat seems content to be called 'sir' and thus, to Gareth at least, the mystery is solved. "Ms...Liane," Gareth replies. "Yeah...um..." he looks back at the magician card, and puts it down. Gingerly, despite its assured sturdiness. "Just some dumb cards a friend might like." He inspects the cards a bit more. "Hmm. Devil worship," he mutters, absently.

Gustavo offers a smile to Liane, and then Alexandra, "I have to find something for my father. I was hoping maybe I could find something here. Something neat, and unique," he tells the woman.

"I c-c-came here for a s-spindle before. But I s-s-saw this dress, with s-such curious emb-b-broidery. I w-want to try to l-learn how to m-make it." Liane holds out her arms, with their bounty of raggedy dress. "Th-they have some c-curious things, here. I'm s-sure you'll f-f-find something lovely." Then there's a sidewise glance at Gareth, "Oh y-yes. Quite a f-f-few things can be att-t-tributed to d-devil worship, at some p-point or another. Always g-g-good to blame the n-new, or that wh-which f-frightens you, on the d-devil instead of c-c-cowardice." She murmurs, her words somewhat vaguely said.

Alexandra's expression has something of resigned amusement as Gareth explains to Liane, and she gathers the cards back up to tuck them back into their baggie for safekeeping. "Like how some of the fathers of modern math and science were executed for heresy. 'The earth orbits the sun,' that's Satan speaking, you know." Ah, the foibles of humanity.

Gustavo earns a bit of a considering look, her lips twisting to the side as she thinks. Hmm. "Could be argued most of the stuff in here falls into that, yes. What sorts of things is your father interested in?" Her lurking grin comes back, "I think I've got some World War era military uniforms, though finding one that'd fit you might be tricky."

"You and my father would have had some inneresting conversations, I think," Gareth says to Liane, diplomatically. He flashes Alexandra a patient look at her lecture - but seems to endure it with all the impatience of a young man with a lot of things on his mind. As both Gustavo *and* Liane both step up with things and items they need, he gets self-conscious. "Er," he tells Alexandra. "Looks like you're busy. I'll come 'round another time. You mind holding that for me? I gotta figure out if that'd be a good gift or not." Though he looks a little like, emotionally, he wants to pick up the cool tarot cards, he still politely steps away, making his way to the door.

Gustavo eyes the young man, frowning a bit. "I think I maybe scared him away. Well, what does the sergeant-major like? Hrm. Calling in artillery fire. He likes guns. He likes military stuff. He -really- likes taking out snipers," he says as he runs through his mental list.

"Oh, d-don't leave yet, G-gareth! I've s-something in my c-c-car for you-- I was g-going to leave it at your d-dorm, but if you're here--" Liane calls out after him. It should be noted Liane is rather soft-spoken, so her idea of 'calling out' or 'shouting' is what most people would consider conversational level or maybe a touch above. "G-g-gareth isn't very easily f-f-frightened off by anyth-th-thing except work and w-w-women, I think. The f-former he really m-must get over. The l-l-latter I think q-q-quite sensible of him." A twitch of Liane's lips, then she places the dress in a neat pile on the counter. "H-have you jewelry? Or p-pins and h-hairpieces? S-something not silver, and n-not iron or too r-rusty, though if it l-looks a bit old that m-might be fine."

Alexandra nods to Gareth as he sidles away, not particularly trying to hide her smile but also not seeming all that mean about it. It's funny! "Sure thing. Just drop by whenever."

Gustavo's description makes the woman behind the counter laugh a bit, bending to once again tuck the ziplock'd tarot cards beneath the counter and proceeding to rummage a little, "Well, don't have much in terms of weaponry, certainly not ''functional''. But... ah." She straightens again with a positively ancient flare gun in her hands, the wooden grip missing pieces from where it's dried, shrunk and split, the metal looking like someone's tried to clean rust off it without damaging anything, "Does he like restoring things?"

Liane's question is much more easily answered, and Alexandra grins as she points towards one section of the store, "Those are all jewelry boxes. Feel free to rummage for whatever strikes your fancy. It's all been cleaned, but I can't promise anything to be hypoallergenic."

Gustavo thinks on that a second, "I think so. Especially if I tell him it's really hard and the nice woman at the store said it was almost impossible to restore?" he answers, after a moment or two of thought.

Gareth shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to put back on his earbuds when Liane ''softly'' calls out - but Gareth's apparently alert enough to pick it up. He stops partway to the door and peers curiously at Liane. "Oh yeah? Is it more of that omelet-pie stuff? 'Cause that wasn't half bad." He also peers at the counter, possibly to make extra sure Alexandra puts away the tarot cards and it's not accidentally sold off to some random Marine with an occult fetish.

Gustavo frowns as his fannypack beeps, and he reaches into it to pull out a cellphone, opening it up. 'Go for de Lara," he says in clipped tones, listening. 'Uh huh. Uh huh. Where? I'm near there, now. No no, I have my bag in my car, it's only a mile away, I can sprint. Ok. Yeah. Alright. Seeya there," he says, as he waves to the two women and the young man, frowning. 'Sorry about that. Work calls - I'll check in later, I promise. Drug fueled drive bys wait for no man!" he says before he heads out the door.

"Quiche." Liane supplies helpfully to Gareth. "And I c-can make another for you-- it's q-quite v-versatile. Wh-what is your f-favorite sort of m-m-meat?" She lifts a hand to wave Gustavo off, and then with a quick, brief smile towards Alexandra heads to poke about the boxes.

Another laugh, and then Alexandra unlocks the breach of the flaregun and pulls it open, needing to use both hands for the whole operation and getting an unholy squeal out of the rusty hinge, clearly having to apply a good deal of effort to even get the thing to move. She's not exactly what you'd call a musclebound amazon, though. "And I wouldn't say ''impossible'', merely requiring time, effort and care." She grins, "I imagine a counter-sniper would know about that kind of thing." The phonecall turns her smile into a frown of concern, and she nods in understanding, "Good luck. Take care out there, officer."

Gareth steps out of the way for Gustavo - he is in fact quite intimidated by the larger man, though that might not of been why he eased away from the counter. "So if not quiche-pie, then what'd you get?" he asks Liane, deeply curious. One earbud's in his ear, he's ready to move out and into reality in only a moment's notice. "Favorite meat?" Gareth ponders this. "Do I have to choose?" He squints at Liane. "Heeeyyy, this isn't some kind of 'sexual' thing is it?" He uses air quotes.

Gareth? Intimidated? Nonsense! Liane seems to have faith in Gareth's sheer stubbornness making him immune to such silly things! Then again, the woman has Questionable Judgement. "G-g-gareth!" The woman says, blushing a touch. "Of c-c-course not. It w-will determine wh-what I put into your n-next quiche. And...w-well, I th-thought I'd try m-my hand at m-making lasagna." Liane says as she peers at a pin, "But I g-got carried away and m-make g-garlic and h-herb bread to go al-l-long with it, then I th-thought perhaps it n-needs a side and m-m-made c-cous-cous with v-v-vegetables and a l-light sauce. And th-then I thought I c-could make all that and n-n-not have dessert, so I m-m-made m-mini m-molten l-lava c-cakes." Liane sounds partially apologetic. "S-s-so I thought perhaps you m-might want some."

Danny queries, in the blandest tone while glancing at Liane, "Meat fetish(?)(.)" Is it a question? A comment? A punchline? It's extremely hard to tell.

Taking a moment to horse that flaregun shut again as the cop leaves (this takes a bit of grunting and another squeak of tortured metal), Alexandra works her fingers after she's tucked it back out of sight beneath the counter. Stiff old beast.

Unconcerned with his servant's troubles with her wares, the adolescent Maine Coon that actually owns this store chooses this moment to pad up to Danny and sniff curiously at her ankle. Machiavelli's not as large as some of his breed get, but he's certainly bigger than your usual housecat. Hi there.

Gareth oohs. "Lasagna? That sounds like it might be pretty good," Gareth says, with a kind of suspicious longing, the way a mouse might sniff at some tasty cheese sitting on a perfectly innocent looking mousetrap. He shifts a bit, stepping back into the store. "I'll try it and stuff," he says. "You know, just to make sure it ain't poison or nothing," he says. He glances back at the counter, then says to Liane. "Hey, so, are tarot cards a bad idea to get someone? Like 'cause everyone has their own or some secret etiquette thing?"

Boots darts in between the feet of an incoming customer. he smells fellow kitty his little nostrils working as he looks around.

Danny stares down at the large Machiavelli, then crouches down to pet it. Slowly, so the cat has time to object. Assuming there is no argument, the large woman scoops up the cat - apparently with ease. Considering Danny is built like a firefighter, construction worker, or other strength-possessing profession, this isn't difficult for her, it seems.

Liane, meanwhile, pauses in her jewelry prodding to glance over at Gareth and smiles, though she does pause at his words and looks thoughtful. "N-n-not really a b-bad idea. As l-long as the p-person offering g-gives them with good th-thoughts: otherw-w-wise, they would n-need to be r-recons-s-secrated or c-carried until they can be c-comfortably used. B-but that's only if you use th-them for the occ-c-cult, and g-generally, these days, f-few really f-follow anything but th-their own p-personalized rules for the c-care and h-handling of their decks."

Machiavelli does not object, as such, though he takes a moment to consider Danny's worthiness to touch him. In the end, he suffers himself to be lifted, settling against the woman's chest, apparently quite comfortable. That is, until he catches a scent and looks around with his ears laid back. Who dares intrude in his realm?

Alexandra, for her part, seems oblivious to feline intrusions, and is willing to let Liane and Gareth chat for the moment as she wipes a bit of rust off his hands and starts straightening out that dress Liane found earlier on top of the counter, probably in preparation for wrapping it up.

"But...someone who knew how to do that stuff could reconsiderate it themselves, right?" Gareth asks Liane, suspiciously. He ponders the rest of what Liane said, and once again looks over at the counter. "But would it be weird and stuff? I just don't know etiquette when it comes to, uh, 'occult' stuff." He glances at the new cat and blinks a bit. This is new.

Boots stalks cautious toward Danny peering up at the bigger cat with ears in the position of curious but cautious intrest.

"Oh, c-c-certainly. They w-would have to. And it's n-not particularly odd, no. G-g-giving a d-deck every s-season might be, but it s-seems a th-thoughtful enough g-gift, I think." Liane has not noticed the cat. She's too busy examining what appears to be an old, large silver broach, with a smooth surface and just a bit of a decorative border on it, and looks quite pleased with her find, though it's a touch tarnished. She doesn't notice the new kitty!

For her part, Danny just holds the cat, scratching it with a sort of bland and respectful attentiveness that MIGHT be deemed affection, if you ''really'' stretched the meaning of the word. The smaller cat is glanced at, but Danny's got most of her attention on the big one and Liane.

Machiavelli does not appear amused by this newest interloper, glaring down at Boots and making a noise that Danny can likely feel as much as hear: a low growl that might translate clearest as "your bones look soft enough to eat, still." Given the fact he's easily three times the size of the other cat...

Alexandra, either keen of hearing or just happening to glance over, spots the newcomer and immediately looks worried. "Oh dear." Around the counter she comes, headed right for the kitten, "C'mon darling, outside. Mac's territorial. C'mon..." Yes, she's trying to shoo Boots back towards the front door, though she hasn't tried to make a grab for him yet.

Boots peers up at the Big cat, sitting all prim and proper at Danny's feet and washing a paw waiting for the attention of the resident owner.. 'i.e. the other cat' Boots glances over at Alexandra with big curious golden eyes and yawns big mouthed.

Gareth hmms, thoughtfully. Still pondering what Liane said. "All right," he says, "I'll do it." He glances at the counter, then sees Alexandra moving to the door, and Boots, to shoo the new cat outside. He kind of blinks and steps back. "Man, that's an unusual-looking cat," he mutters.

For all the new cat appears to not have a care in the world, Alexandra is intent on her goal. If he doesn't move himself, she'll quite firmly scoop him up, carry him to the door, and deposit him carefully but firmly outside. Before Machiavelli decides to take matters into his own paws. And judging by the tone in that growl, it wouldn't be a polite little "would you kindly step outside" sort of thing.

Gareth steps to one side. He's got no dog in this race. Or cat, as it happens. He seems content to be a spectator in this little microdrama.

Boots Chirps unhappily a plaintive little sound and touches his nose to Alexandra's if he can reach while she carries him.. his big ears swiveling a little.. throwing full force cute at her with big wide golden eyes.

Danny doesn't look intent on keeping the cat if it chooses to jump. Apparently the idea of holding a clawing cat of this size doesn't appeal to the large woman. Liane, however, is alerted to the hullabaloo in only a vaguely distracted, 'Oh look people are moving about' sort of way. Instead, she calls out, "G-g-gareth, y-you're a boy. C-c-come here a m-moment? I w-want to get s-s-something for Th-theseus, but I c-can't choose between th-these rings or th-the n-necklace ch-charms..." Goal-Oriented Liane is sadly singular-minded!

Alexandra is unmoved by cute. Only once the intruding feline is outside and the door shut does she sigh and shake her head before turning back to the humans in the room, "Sorry about that. Machiavelli's ''very'' picky about who he lets in his store." She grins a bit at how Danny's holding said cat, who seems to be calming down now that the interloper has been dealt with. "Normally it isn't an issue."

Boots presses his little kitty face against the glass and makes a plaintive chirping cry! and paws sadly at the glass with one paw.

Gareth is happy to step away from the cat-tastrophe. He slouches away, walking down one bookshelf and then back around over to Liane. "Sure, what'cha lookin' at?" he asks Liane, curiously. He looks at rings and necklaces, looking mildly curious and baffled by the variety.

"W-well, there's th-this one." Liane says, pointing to a ring with a gloved hand. It's a silver ring with a few tiny red jewels around the center, in the front. Two of the tiny jewels seem missing, but chances are they could be easily replaced. "Th-then there's th-this one--" 'This one' is right on top of the silver one. It's either silver or white gold, with a large square onyx there. "And th-there's this lovely g-g-gold one." Which is in a case, and consists of a gold band with three diagonal lines of gems, one of diamond, the middle of some red gems a little darker than the first ring's, and another one of diamond. "Wh-which do you think?"

Minor crisis averted, Alexandra heads back behind the counter and gathers up that dress Liane found, calling over to the little gathering "I'll just get this wrapped for you, won't take too long." Then she grins, turning towards the door to the back room, "Don't try to steal anything, or Mac'll eat you." The cat underlines this by resting his head on Danny's shoulder and closing his eyes, doing that thing cats do where they seem to somehow gain weight the longer they lie on you. So fierce.

----

'''''Brief gap as Alexandra's player had to run AFK'''''

----

"N-no, I d-don't think so." Liane touches her own rather long tresses, "As f-for that, I d-doubt you will. I'm s-s-sure whoever r-receives them wil be t-touched, especially n-knowing your...g-general d-disfavor with such things. You're a r-rather sweet person, on occ-c-casion." A twitch of Liane's lips, and then she wrinkles her forehead. "B-bell is the p-playboy. He t-tends to have w-women left and right, and th-though he's always...g-gallant, he's n-not particularly d-d-discerning. Th-theseus is m-more low key, but he's h-had his fair sh-share of female adm-m-mirers. M-male too, n-now that I think of it, but Th-theseus has only h-had girlfriends. They u-usually get ups-s-set at the am-mount of f-female friends they have." Liane is a shameless gossip when it comes to her brothers!

Gareth flashes a...grouchy look at the compliment. But takes it. "Yeah, well..." he mutters. "Don' tell anyone, ok?" Pause. "I like the low-key dude the best. Bellephron sounds like a guy I would want to constantly smack the smirk off of his face." He blinks, then says to Liane. "D'oh, sorry - forgot he's your brother and all. My brothers were mostly assholes," he explains. As an offer of contrition, he says, "I like the Theseus dude. Cool name, too. He the one that tricked the minotaur or something?"

Liane and Gareth are by the jewelry. Danny is blandly holding a humongous cat with little effort. Alexandra is in a back room. The elephant isn't in the room.

Weston walks into the store, looking around with some interest at all of the stuff. Finding Liane and Gareth he raises his eyebrows and waves again. "Fancy meeting y'all here," he says, and approaches to take a look at all of the shiny stuff behind the glass cases.

It's about this time that Alexandra comes back out into the main room, carrying a paper bag of the sort with little paper-strip handles for carrying, which she sets on the counter near the cash-register. The jingle of the bell makes her look over and grin as Weston apparently recognizes the others already here, "Did someone put out the word this is a good place to hang out without letting me know? Hi there! Just let me know if you need help with anything."

Machiavelli, the Maine Coon dozing on Danny, doesn't even dignify Weston with a flick of an ear. You have been Ignored, good sir.

Emily slips inside the shop shortly after Weston while wearing simple clothing that consists of a pink tank top and low slung black jeans. Her dark hair is gathered into a braid with a few strands escaping to fall into her face. She looks toward Liane after hearing Weston's greeting and gives her a wave, suggesting she is at least a little familar with the woman. When Alexandra arrives she gives her a brief curious study. "Oh, you work here Miss?"

"The m-mythological Th-theseus, yes. And it's q-quite all right: Bellereph-phon is quite a l-large ass. Ch-chiron is an upt-t-tight ass, and Th-theseus a s-s-smart ass." There's affection in her tone! And yet she says this all as if informing Gareth that yes, two times two is four, and two times four is eight, etc. And oh look, a Weston! Liane turns to smile at the boy, glancing up at him - perhaps lingering a fraction of a second longer than she normally might. "I'm g-g-getting gifts."

"Then I definitely like Theseus." Gareth grins big. "Always did like the heroes that tricked all the monsters, as opposed to the ones who went knuckle-to-knuckle with 'em-" He glances at the doorway. "Oh, hey, Weston!" he squints at the young man. "Fancy meetin' you here, too! You look...different somehow. Not sure why. What's up, anyways?" Spying Alexandra returning, he says, "Hey, so, ah, how much were those cards, anyways?"

Cats, eh? Weston just gives it a raise of the eyebrow, and gives Danny the ol' Nod of Silent Acknowledgement. He turns around behind him to size up Emily for a moment, grunting a quiet "How you doing," before sidling up to Gareth. "Yeah, you could say that," Weston replies, replying with a grin and a wink and looks back to Alexandra. "Yeah, this place has cool stuff."

The woman behind the counter grins at Emily openly, leaning her hands on the counter, "Own the place, actually. I suppose that counts. What can I help you with?"

Gareth's question, however, makes Alexandra frown slightly in consideration, then she waves the boy back over towards the counter, "C'mere for a second, I want to check something before I answer that."

It's about this time that Machiavelli decides that he wishes to be elsewhere, nudging at Danny with nose and forepaws until she gets the idea and lets him hop down to the floor with a resounding thud, and thence stalking lazily off back into the shelves.

"I'm good." Emily says seemingly in response to Weston who she studies for a shy moment from beneath the cover of her lashes. She then turns her attention to Alexandra, seemingly especially interested in the woman when she talks about owning the place. "Oh, I am looking for gifts." She says with the kind of vagueness that suggests she does not know exactly whe wants. "For a man, maybe...I don't know, cufflinks, pins, wallets, what do guys like?" She says, looking over to Gareth and Weston like she wonders if being male might give them some insight on this.

Gareth grins back to Weston, then says, "You good with jewelry or anything like that? Liane here needs help picking something out for her brothers." When Emily asks her question, he says, "Aw, I just said cufflinks. I think they're mad cool, though I don't got a suit to wear 'em with. You might want to check out an old book or something, too. Or a flask, if he drinks." He has a look on his face like he has several other guy-gift ideas, but keeps them in check. He flashes Alexandra a curious look, and mumbles, "Scuse me," to Liane and Weston, walking over to the counter with a curious look on his face. "Check what?"

Danny isn't exactly clutching the cat like a lifeline. It could probably just hop off, as if Danny was furniture. The woman seems to like pretending to be a statue half the time anyway. "I th-think you two m-might get along. He's m-mellower than you are, h-however." And then Gareth is getting called off to have himself checked for birthmakes or something. "Ah..wh-when you have a ch-chance, I'd l-like this r-r-ring, please." Liane says, before looking at Weston with a small grin. "You c-can help me p-pick out a s-set of c-c-cufflinks for B-bellereph-phon, unless you're l-looking for s-something yourself."

"They are cool." Emily says in response to Gareth. "I don't know if he reads. I mean, he probably ''can'' read, but I never seen him curl-up with a book or anything like that. He does drink though." She says, museing out loud. "Brothers.." Emily says and then peeks toward Liane, giving her a warm smile that brings forther dimples. She then looks all curious as Liane asks to see a ring and she tries to get a look at it. "You remember, Peter?" she adds to Liane. "I am looking for him."

"Old books work, yeah, flasks too," Weston replies, turning around to look back at Emily. "Peter? I've met a Peter. You know if he's got something that's worn down or broke? Replacing something of his that's busted with something cool shows you care, for sure." Then he turns around to Liane, looking down at the cufflinks with an eye for quality, as though he's been around the block where crafts are concerned. He looks around for a moment, then points out a pair of [http://imgur.com/ZiM22 gold ones]. "These," he says quietly. "What do you think?"

Emily gets a smile and a nod over to where Liane's digging through some old jewelboxes, "Seems to be a lot of that going around lately. You're welcome to rummage and see if anything strikes your fancy. There's rings, pins, all kinds of things. Or other stuff that's not jewelry, if you don't think that'd strike his fancy." Liane gets a nod and a smile, "Certainly, miss."

When Gareth comes over, however, Alexandra holds out her hands to him, palm up, "Let me see your hands a moment?" Yes, it could probably seem creepy, or at least a little odd, but it's not like she's leering horribly or anything...

Gareth's expression is frankly suspicious, like Alexandra is going to play some horrible practical joke on him, but he does offer his hand out, palm up. "What's all this for? What's it got to do with cards, anyways?" To Emily he says, "I'd totally get that guy a flask. Flasks are badassed."

"This Peter is very unique looking. "Emily says toward Weston and given her tone unique might be a subtle way of saying there is something off about his appearance. "I don't know if he has anything broken, I never saw him with anything broke." She says, sounding a bit fustrated like she is gift confused. Whereas Weston as an eye for quality, Emily seems like she doesn't quite know what she is doing. "Nice.." She says to teh pair of cufflinks that Weston picks out the cufflinks for Liane. "He might wear a pin maybe or a ring, but he has really large hands, it would have to be a big one. He wears belts too. Do you have payment plans?" She then peeks back over to Gareth. "They are?" She says, sounding like she really doesn't know, but trusts his judgement on that.

Liane leans forward to examine the cufflinks, then looks over towards Weston and downright beams. "Oh, th-those are p-p-perfect! Q-q-quite lovely." She glances over at Alexandra, to see if she's done molesting Gareth or whatever it is she was planning. but otherwise lets Weston and Emily chat. Danny is doing her statue impression. Ignore her!

Alexandra just grins at Gareth as she takes hold of his hands, "Indulge a crazy old woman a moment." Her grip isn't anything to write home about, and could certainly be pulled away from without difficulty. However, all she does is look down at the boy's palms, tilting her head a little to one side as she looks them over. Her examination takes a few moments, after which she makes a soft "hm!" sound to herself and nods, letting go and looking up, "Twenty bucks and they're yours to give. I might even be able to find something nicer than the baggie, if you want?"

Emily's question about payment plans makes the woman blink, then frown as though she'd never thought of the idea, "I suppose so, certainly. I don't have much that's ''that'' expensive, though..." Certainly not the stuff just sitting out for people to rummage through and handle.

"Twenty bucks? Wow, cool! And yeah, something to put it in, or I'll lose it on the way back to the dorms," says Gareth, raising both eyebrows. "I got that." He withdraws his hands, squinting. "What'd you find out, doc?" he asks Alexandra curiously. "I'm gonna die of skin cancer, aren't I?" He grins cheerfully. "Seriously, though. That mole is probably not malignant, the doctors say." He's rummaging around in his pocket for money. Which he pulls out, all crinkled, like when he gets change he just crumples it into a ball and puts it in his pocket.

"Oh, him," Weston replies, looking back at Emily. "Yeah, I think he'd like something like a flask or a wallet." He looks over at a stand with a bunch of flasks on it, and picks up a very interesting-looking one, bound in leather with what looks like a design of a bunch of marble statues, under which is inscribed 'Fonti di Trevi'. He picks it up and hands it over to Emily to examine. "This looks pretty cool," he says, looking Emily over for another second, like a quick peek at the sun - don't stare too long!

Emily peeks over toward Liane as she reacts to the cufflinks, seeming drawn to her excited reaction. She then turns her attention back to Alexandra. "Oh!" She says and finally starts to touch things, running her fingertips over a flask. She probably thinks she can afford the items now that they declared as possibly affordable. "Hmmm.." She says looking back toward Weston and dropping down her hands. She then reaches for the flask and her brown eyes widen a little with delight. "Oh, that is perfect!" She says, her voice soft and happy. "How much is this one?" She adds to Alexandra, lifting up the item.

Danny, insufferable woman that she is, walks over towards Liane and whispers something quietly in her ear, leaning forward - the two have almost a foot of difference between them! Liane glances around at the others in the room a touch curiously, before she looks in the jewelry case. Alexandra's busy, still, so Liane busies herself with checkin' out the goods. As for talk of Peter, Liane quite firmly says nothing.

Alexandra glances over at Emily's question, rolls her eyes upwards as she consults some internal catalog of values, then nods a little and answers, "Thirty dollars, plus tax." Simple enough, no frills.

Gareth's question, however, makes the shopkeep hesitate a moment before she just bends to rummage that pack of tarot cards out from under the counter again, digging a moment longer before also coming up with an undyed drawstring cloth bag, which she transfers the cards to, tucking the ziplock they used to reside in back beneath the counter. Then she leans her hands on the countertop and looks Gareth right in the eyes, "Don't be afraid of who you really are, or showing it to others. It might help you with your relationships." For that moment, she's dead serious.

Then she smiles a little wryly and nudges the bagged cards towards the boy, scooping up his wad of cash, "You want a reciept?"

Blink, blink, goes Gareth, and he stops a second, almost freezes. He kind of makes a face. But it's brief. Then he just kind of caassually smiles at Alexandra, and raises up his right hand. "My relationships?" He looks at his hand, and scolds it. "You told her about all those awful things we did in the dark, didn't you? You whore!" WIth his left hand, he fishes out about twenty bucks worth of change. "Sure, a receipt would be fine - you know, in case they're malfunctioning or something, I'm gonna want my money back." Pause. "Now I gotta go - me and my hand have to have a.... ''conversation''."

Weston looks over at Liane and smiles, saying "Good, those look well-made and the olive-leaf pattern is nice." Chuckling at Gareth's joke, the guy turns his black-haired head to look at Emily. "His last name's Italian, and that writing on there looks Italian, too. I think it means 'Fountain of Trevi', if it means the same thing it does in Latin."

Emily does not believe in fortune telling, let alone actually realize that it just occured in front of her, still she gives Gareth a teasing smile when he is given advice. She then turns her attention back to Alexandra. "Oh, okay, that sounds good." She says and pulls out two twenties from the pocket of her dark low-slung jeans. "I will probably be back here again, Peter is the kind of guy who needs a lot of gifts. "Good luck with that!" She then says toward Gareth as he speaks of going to talk to his hand. She then turns her attention back to Weston and for some reason the girl seems a little wary of him and yet still interested enough to keep talking. "He's Italian. I don't know the language, but I will pretend like I understood and tell him it means that." She says, smiling, a dimpled smile.

Liane turns to look at Gareth and his preparations to leave. "G-give me a m-m-moment and I'll be r-right there as w-well." Liane calls out, before she looks over at Alexandra. "Exc-c-cuse me, I'd l-like s-several of these p-pieces, p-please." She manages, pulling out the credit card. Liane? Cash? Eh. Only when she needs to tip. As for Weston and Emily's budding friendship-- Liane has better things to worry about. But she's nosy, and glances over there fersure.

Alexandra laughs a little at Gareth's stern talk, ringing up his purchase and tearing the reciept from where it prints out of what looks like an antique cash register. Must not be so antique on the inside. Handing the reciept over, her smile's almost fond, "As you will. Good luck." But with that somewhat cryptic goodbye, she turns to her other customers.

Emily's purchase is rung up and her change counted out, with Liane's right behind it, both going in paper bags instead of plastic. Liane's card gives even more lie to the antique look of the register, because one of the decorative slots in the casing apparently hides a card-reader. In the end, though, the bags are parcelled out without further incident jewelry and dress to Liane, hipflask to Emily, "Feel free to come back whenever. I don't mind company."

Weston looks Emily right back in the eye, not blinking for a few moments, but then he breaks it and looks over at Alexandra. "Yeah, this place is full of neat stuff," Weston says. "I'm a woodcarver, too, in case you're in the market for new art."

Gareth glances down at his purchase a bit dubiously, but when Liane calls out, he stops all politeness and waits by the door. "Is this about the lasagna?" he asks, hopefully. He also glances between Emily and Weston - briefly - and then back at Liane and Alexandra.

Emily has some sort of reaction to Weston's stare, a warm pink-flush painting over her cheeks and her breathing elevating just slightly. She steps toward him without seeming fully aware of this, but despite this reaction, the hint of wariness remains her there is a tension about the way she carries herself. "Hmm..." She says, looking back to Alexandra, smiling quickly and reaching out for the bag. "Thanks."

"Y-yes. It's in m-my car, but it's l-l-locked." Liane says to Gareth, holding her bags and shuffling over as she attempts to put her card back in her slim little wallet without bumping into anything. Danny straightens from leaning against the way and follows after, at a casual pace, with a nod towards the others.

Alexandra gives Weston a smile and a nod and plucks a business card from the little stand of them by the register, offering it over to him, "You can at least bring your things by and I'll have a look to see what you might get for them. Being an appraiser king of comes with the territory." As folks start heading out, she offers the lot of them a wave, "Have a nice night!"

"All right, then, lasagna!" says Gareth to Liane, suddenly deeply cheerful. "Lead on!" He's still fiddling with his package. Thinking of something. For a brief flit of a moment, when all eyes are seemingly on Emily and Weston, he makes the tiniest of frowns.

Weston mirrors Emily's gesture, stepping forward, seeming to get the cues himself but not really getting it either. He does turn around to take Alexandra's card and look quizzically at Gareth, but then he just turns around to look at Emily again. "If you're not doing anything tonight, I have some free time," he says amiably enough.

Emily glances briefly toward Gareth but if she notices his frown or not is hard to tell. She holds the paperback, crinkling it up around the top in the process to make a kind of handle. "Oh." She says toward Weston's first like she is not quite sure how to respond him. the flush remains staining into her olive-tone cheeks and her smile returns, but it is a stalling smile, maybe moreso than a natural one. "Alright, coffee or something. My boyfriend would be pissed otherwise." She says, but despite that statement seems drawn to him, like had some primal reaction she does not fully understand.

Liane smiles indulgently at Gareth, and once her credit card is away, she reaches for her keys. "W-w-wonderful." There's a glance back as Weston tries to make friends -- clearly they're just trying to make friends! "L-let's go g-g-get the bags. Do you n-n-need a r-r-ride back on c-campus?" Liane queries, glancing up at Gareth slightly. She missed whatever small frown was there -- unless it's still there, in which case she looks at him in slight puzzlement, and seems to be mentally checking off a list, before looking from Gareth to the friendly children.

Gareth catches Weston's confused look, and his look quickly turns into a kind of a chuckle. He rubs his nose. "All right, see you two." He says to Weston, "Hey, Wes, let me know when you're free for math tutoring." And then he turns, looking down at Liane. He grins cheerfully. "Sure! I'd love a ride! It's not much of a walk, but I am SO FUCKING LAZY for some reason!"

"Oh, okay," Weston says, shrugging. "Sure yeah, no big deal. Just looking to hang out." He turns to Gareth at his chuckling, following his gaze for a moment and grinning back. "Okay yeah, later Gareth! I'll see you. You too, Miss Liane." He then says something in a foreign language to her!

Emily peeks back toward Liane and Gareth as they seem to be leaving and gives them a wave. She then turns her attention to Weston. "You, know, talk, be friends.." She says and then smiles, a dimple framed smile. "I actually like hot chocolate more than coffee." She says and starts toward the door of the shop.

Liane grins over at Weston. and says in a foreign language, "....... .... .... ... it .. . ... .... ..... ... .... your ...... ... ..... ... .... You've ... .. ..... ........... ... a ... days .. ..... .. ..... ... .... ......." And then she looks over at Gareth and smiles, 'I h-h-hadn't noticed. You're always s-so energ-g-getic and ch-cheerful.' Liane says this with a straight face, save a slight crinkling around her eyes that's rather hard to see, considering she glances towards the ground almost immediately. The other two get a wave as Liane absconds with Gareth.

Weston looks over at Liane and nods, responding one more time in that foreign language, then turns to follow in Emily, saying in English this time, "Yeah? I'm a tea fan, myself, but chocolate is awesome. I think there's a new place around here what sells all that!" Thus he follows after the girl, not really sure what is going on but rolling with it anyway!

Emily just seems baffled as Liane and Weston speak in another language. She then turns her attention back to Weston. "Peter says I am his girlfriend." She says, almost as if giving him some kind of warning. She then starts from the shop, holding her back and apparently on the way to get chocolate with Weston.

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - Another Day/Log

2011-04-06T00:54:31Z

Chaemera:

Another day, another dollar. You don't really see a lot of bustle and noise at places like this, so it gives Alexandra plenty of time to do things on her own time. She's gotten the inventory to mostly make sense, gotten the place pretty much arranged how she likes it, and so... it gives her time to fiddle around with other stuff. Which is why she's leaning over the counter with one of those feathers-on-a-stick cat toys, amusing the rather large feline that actually runs this place by letting him bat at it.

In through the out door comes Gareth, hands shoved in his pockets, he shoulders his way past the door, and like before, stops and looks over the place before taking a further step in, like he's committing an impression of the place to memory. Then he steps in, glancing around curiously. "Hello?" he asks, his tone polite.

The woman behind the counter looks up at the dingle of the bell on the door, and Machiavelli takes his moment of distraction to snag the toy and tug it out of her hand, quickly scampering into the shelves with his prize and earning a laugh from Alexandra before she waves to Gareth, "Hey there. Any luck finding that gift you were looking for?"

Gareth spies the cat first, and smiles, his look suggesting that cats charm him. He starts to wander cataway, then looks up and blinks. "Huh?" he asks, a bit dumbly. "Which girl?" He gets an 'aw shucks' grin and scratches behind his ear, though keeping an eye out for interesting things on the shelves as he does.

Alexandra's eyebrow quirks up at that question, and she folds her arms with a mock-chiding expression, "And just how many girls do you owe gifts?" But she's grinning, "The one at the Apothecary. Speaking of, I ''did'' find an old set of tarot cards, though they're kind of beat up."

Gareth reaches out a hand for the cat to sniff - but doesn't maintain eye contact. He responds with a lazy shrug. "You'd be surprised," the college student says. He's standing by the counter now, apparently interested in gaining the friendship of a large and fluffy cat with a somewhat surly demeanor, if his player's memory serves him. He's facing Alexandra, who's behind the counter, and pauses at the second bit she says. "Oh! No, no, I don't need it- I was, ah, I thought I was going to go away for a little while, and I didn't-" He flashes a pained look. "She's not- we're just friends," he protests. "She's just...you know. A cool friend." He cranes his neck to glance over at the counter. "What're these tarot cards look like, anyways? Beat up might not be bad."

Machiavelli isn't so much surly as firmly convinced of his own moral, intellectual and spiritual superiority to you silly two-legged folk. But he deigns to look up from the feather-on-a-stick toy he stole from Alexandra and sniff Gareth's fingers inquisitively. Alexandra, for her part, regards Gareth's verbal flailing with an increasing air of amusement, resting her hip against the counter where she stands behind it with her arms crossed. "...I see," is all she says in the end, grin lurking around the edges of her mouth. The question about the cards, though, has her bending to rummage under the counter, "They're a divination system some people use. You familiar with them at all?"

And into that awkward scene comes Liane, to make things even MORE awkward! As usual, she arrives with that tall native American woman - lesbian lovers? BFFs? Babysitter to the wealthy? Liane doesn't LOOK all that rich...but she certainly looks like she can afford to shop here! Which is apparently her goal. She glances behind her, as if uncertain her friend will follow, but both eventually enter the shop and Liane moves to go look for the dress she was examining before - the embroidered dress, with several rips in the thread. It seems she hasn't recognized Gareth up there, yet!

"A little," Gareth says, drily. "I got the cards read to me once. Was pretty inneresting," he muses. "Can't imagine playing solitaire with them or nothing." He doesn't look up when the door opens, and totally doesn't notice Danny or Liane enter! Or he's ignoring them. It's quite possible. "I know some decks are different from the others, right? Do you have to use different hoodoo voodoo on 'em or anything?" he says this a bit dubiously.

Alexandra comes up from behind the counter with a pack of somewhat-grungy looking cards in a large ziploc. The cards themselves are noticeably larger than your average playing cards, and sized differently, longer. "Each deck has different symbolism on the cards themselves, thus carrying slightly different meanings. Some even have different cards altogether. But the general way to use them's pretty much the same." She glances up as the door's bell rings again, and grins when she spots the shy girl from before. "Just let me know if you need help with anything, miss." No bustling over and spooking the poor thing, nope.

Danny nods towards Alexandra, looking...well, just VERY SUBTLY interested in poking around. Not that those ill-suited to reading emotions, or those who don't know the bland woman would notice. Liane, for her part, reddens a touch and glances over quickly - not enough to make eye contact or anything - and gives a small nod, before taking the dress from its hanging place and downright ''scrutinizing'' those threads.

"Huh," Gareth says. He leans on the counter and looks at the cards, deeply curious. "Different meanings? Like each deck has different meanings or what?" He flashes a bit of a confused look at that. "How does that work? How do people keep 'em all straight?" He motions at the deck. "Can I look at 'em? How are these different from, like, other tarot card decks?" He has a look like he's about to handle a live snake. Interested and yet kind of repelled at the same time.

"Same way anyone keeps things straight. Memorization, mostly. Most decks these days come with little booklets with what each card means." Alexandra unzips the baggie and pulls the cards out, fanning them out a bit before selecting one and setting it face-up on the counter for Gareth to look at, putting the rest of the deck nearby, "Just for example, this one: the Magician. Usually symbolizes inventiveness, creativity, a willingness to think outside the lines, that kind of thing. You could probably find a deep, lengthy discussion on what all the stuff on the card means, but most people just go with the blurb." She gestures at the rest of the deck, "You do a reading by dealing the cards out in a specific pattern, with each location in that pattern changing what the card means a little."

At the moment, Alexandra and Gareth are standing at the counter, while Liane and her attending Danny are poking about elsewhere in the shop, the former examining an old, somewhat raggedy dress.

Evening time, and Gustavo has apparently been out running. He has Nike shorts on, running shoes, a fanny pack on his right hip and a backpack on his wide shoulders. A tanktop - grey, with 'USMC' on it covers a touch of his shoulders and his chest, but leaves his heavily muscled arms and tanned skin bare, enough to show the multicolored tattoo on his right shoulder, with 'USMC', the eagle globe and anchor and 'Semper Fedilis' under it in script. He had an iPod he was listening to, tugging the headphones off his head to rest around his neck as he steps into the shop, catching his breath.

The raggedy dress apparently has embroidery, which Liane is SCRUTINIZING INTENTLY. Still, something apparently pleases her, as she attempts to get the darn dress off the hanger it's on, and runs a hand over a bit of embroidery that hasn't been torn, looking rather pleased. She begins to make her way towards the counter, but the arrival of a buff bod into the store catches her player's attention (although Alas! Liane is faithful and wed!) and she catches sight of Gustavo. It takes a moment for things to connect, but then Liane blushes and gives a tiny wave in Gustavo's direction, lingering a little. Danny just gives a nod-- and good god, did her lips move into a smile? No, it must've been a trick of the light!

Gareth has his forearms on the counter. "Ah, memorization," Gareth says. "Bane of my college life." He's still flashing all sorts of curious look at the tarot cards on the counter. He hesitantly reaches for the Magician card and picks it up, scrutinizing it, but holding it delicately, like it might crumple and turn to dust in his hand. "This'd be good for a gift, though, right? Wouldn't be too weird or nothin'?" He flashes the magician card a dubious look, and then turns to the commotion. He looks over at the jogger in military tattoos, and then spies Liane, and waves in a baffled fashion, his expression seeming to say 'when did you get here?'

Gustavo steps into the shop - doing that sort of cop/ninja/Marine scan thing to check out exits, dangers, hotties - and smiles at Liane. "Mrs. Wiggings-Greyhawk," he greets Liane, 'Ma'am." To Danny, a grin, 'Miss." as he steps in. "How are you all doing? Sir," this to Gareth, "Miss," To Alexandra.

Clearly Liane is training to be a junior ninja. Fight fire with fire, right? Or smoke with smoke, or-- something ninja-y with something ninja-y. At being spotted by Gareth, she does the only proper ninja thing to do and waves her hand in his direction, making him forg-- wait, wrong genre and timepiece. So she just goes with pretending she was too distracted to acknowledge Gareth and not approaching to stab him in the back. "H-h-hello G-gustavo. And you t-too, G-gareth." Clever girl, she even looks faintly surprised to realize the one at the counter is Gareth! "Doing a b-bit of sh-shopping?"

Alexandra shrugs as Gareth asks about gift-appropriateness, "It depends on what she's into, really. Some people regard tarot as devil-worship, after all." The card Gareth's looking at doesn't feel any more fragile than a bit of cardstock would normally, just a bit scuffed up. Probably crammed in the bottom of a storage chest for years or something.

Liane's find is removed from its hanger without undue stress, and she'd certainly notice from her close inspection that some effort's been made to at least get the garment serviceable, if not into mint condition. Some moth-damage has been repaired, a seam or two fixed, that kind of thing.

Gustavo's entrance has Alexandra looking up as the bell rings again, and she returns the officer's greeting with a smile, "Doing fine, officer. What brings you by tonight?"

When Gareth is called 'sir' he flashes Gustavo a deeply confused look, and immediately looks around to see who this 'sir' might be. Gareth's gaze focuses on the cat, who has an expression like the cat seems content to be called 'sir' and thus, to Gareth at least, the mystery is solved. "Ms...Liane," Gareth replies. "Yeah...um..." he looks back at the magician card, and puts it down. Gingerly, despite its assured sturdiness. "Just some dumb cards a friend might like." He inspects the cards a bit more. "Hmm. Devil worship," he mutters, absently.

Gustavo offers a smile to Liane, and then Alexandra, "I have to find something for my father. I was hoping maybe I could find something here. Something neat, and unique," he tells the woman.

"I c-c-came here for a s-spindle before. But I s-s-saw this dress, with s-such curious emb-b-broidery. I w-want to try to l-learn how to m-make it." Liane holds out her arms, with their bounty of raggedy dress. "Th-they have some c-curious things, here. I'm s-sure you'll f-f-find something lovely." Then there's a sidewise glance at Gareth, "Oh y-yes. Quite a f-f-few things can be att-t-tributed to d-devil worship, at some p-point or another. Always g-g-good to blame the n-new, or that wh-which f-frightens you, on the d-devil instead of c-c-cowardice." She murmurs, her words somewhat vaguely said.

Alexandra's expression has something of resigned amusement as Gareth explains to Liane, and she gathers the cards back up to tuck them back into their baggie for safekeeping. "Like how some of the fathers of modern math and science were executed for heresy. 'The earth orbits the sun,' that's Satan speaking, you know." Ah, the foibles of humanity.

Gustavo earns a bit of a considering look, her lips twisting to the side as she thinks. Hmm. "Could be argued most of the stuff in here falls into that, yes. What sorts of things is your father interested in?" Her lurking grin comes back, "I think I've got some World War era military uniforms, though finding one that'd fit you might be tricky."

"You and my father would have had some inneresting conversations, I think," Gareth says to Liane, diplomatically. He flashes Alexandra a patient look at her lecture - but seems to endure it with all the impatience of a young man with a lot of things on his mind. As both Gustavo *and* Liane both step up with things and items they need, he gets self-conscious. "Er," he tells Alexandra. "Looks like you're busy. I'll come 'round another time. You mind holding that for me? I gotta figure out if that'd be a good gift or not." Though he looks a little like, emotionally, he wants to pick up the cool tarot cards, he still politely steps away, making his way to the door.

Gustavo eyes the young man, frowning a bit. "I think I maybe scared him away. Well, what does the sergeant-major like? Hrm. Calling in artillery fire. He likes guns. He likes military stuff. He -really- likes taking out snipers," he says as he runs through his mental list.

"Oh, d-don't leave yet, G-gareth! I've s-something in my c-c-car for you-- I was g-going to leave it at your d-dorm, but if you're here--" Liane calls out after him. It should be noted Liane is rather soft-spoken, so her idea of 'calling out' or 'shouting' is what most people would consider conversational level or maybe a touch above. "G-g-gareth isn't very easily f-f-frightened off by anyth-th-thing except work and w-w-women, I think. The f-former he really m-must get over. The l-l-latter I think q-q-quite sensible of him." A twitch of Liane's lips, then she places the dress in a neat pile on the counter. "H-have you jewelry? Or p-pins and h-hairpieces? S-something not silver, and n-not iron or too r-rusty, though if it l-looks a bit old that m-might be fine."

Alexandra nods to Gareth as he sidles away, not particularly trying to hide her smile but also not seeming all that mean about it. It's funny! "Sure thing. Just drop by whenever."

Gustavo's description makes the woman behind the counter laugh a bit, bending to once again tuck the ziplock'd tarot cards beneath the counter and proceeding to rummage a little, "Well, don't have much in terms of weaponry, certainly not ''functional''. But... ah." She straightens again with a positively ancient flare gun in her hands, the wooden grip missing pieces from where it's dried, shrunk and split, the metal looking like someone's tried to clean rust off it without damaging anything, "Does he like restoring things?"

Liane's question is much more easily answered, and Alexandra grins as she points towards one section of the store, "Those are all jewelry boxes. Feel free to rummage for whatever strikes your fancy. It's all been cleaned, but I can't promise anything to be hypoallergenic."

Gustavo thinks on that a second, "I think so. Especially if I tell him it's really hard and the nice woman at the store said it was almost impossible to restore?" he answers, after a moment or two of thought.

Gareth shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to put back on his earbuds when Liane ''softly'' calls out - but Gareth's apparently alert enough to pick it up. He stops partway to the door and peers curiously at Liane. "Oh yeah? Is it more of that omelet-pie stuff? 'Cause that wasn't half bad." He also peers at the counter, possibly to make extra sure Alexandra puts away the tarot cards and it's not accidentally sold off to some random Marine with an occult fetish.

Gustavo frowns as his fannypack beeps, and he reaches into it to pull out a cellphone, opening it up. 'Go for de Lara," he says in clipped tones, listening. 'Uh huh. Uh huh. Where? I'm near there, now. No no, I have my bag in my car, it's only a mile away, I can sprint. Ok. Yeah. Alright. Seeya there," he says, as he waves to the two women and the young man, frowning. 'Sorry about that. Work calls - I'll check in later, I promise. Drug fueled drive bys wait for no man!" he says before he heads out the door.

"Quiche." Liane supplies helpfully to Gareth. "And I c-can make another for you-- it's q-quite v-versatile. Wh-what is your f-favorite sort of m-m-meat?" She lifts a hand to wave Gustavo off, and then with a quick, brief smile towards Alexandra heads to poke about the boxes.

Another laugh, and then Alexandra unlocks the breach of the flaregun and pulls it open, needing to use both hands for the whole operation and getting an unholy squeal out of the rusty hinge, clearly having to apply a good deal of effort to even get the thing to move. She's not exactly what you'd call a musclebound amazon, though. "And I wouldn't say ''impossible'', merely requiring time, effort and care." She grins, "I imagine a counter-sniper would know about that kind of thing." The phonecall turns her smile into a frown of concern, and she nods in understanding, "Good luck. Take care out there, officer."

Gareth steps out of the way for Gustavo - he is in fact quite intimidated by the larger man, though that might not of been why he eased away from the counter. "So if not quiche-pie, then what'd you get?" he asks Liane, deeply curious. One earbud's in his ear, he's ready to move out and into reality in only a moment's notice. "Favorite meat?" Gareth ponders this. "Do I have to choose?" He squints at Liane. "Heeeyyy, this isn't some kind of 'sexual' thing is it?" He uses air quotes.

Gareth? Intimidated? Nonsense! Liane seems to have faith in Gareth's sheer stubbornness making him immune to such silly things! Then again, the woman has Questionable Judgement. "G-g-gareth!" The woman says, blushing a touch. "Of c-c-course not. It w-will determine wh-what I put into your n-next quiche. And...w-well, I th-thought I'd try m-my hand at m-making lasagna." Liane says as she peers at a pin, "But I g-got carried away and m-make g-garlic and h-herb bread to go al-l-long with it, then I th-thought perhaps it n-needs a side and m-m-made c-cous-cous with v-v-vegetables and a l-light sauce. And th-then I thought I c-could make all that and n-n-not have dessert, so I m-m-made m-mini m-molten l-lava c-cakes." Liane sounds partially apologetic. "S-s-so I thought perhaps you m-might want some."

Danny queries, in the blandest tone while glancing at Liane, "Meat fetish(?)(.)" Is it a question? A comment? A punchline? It's extremely hard to tell.

Taking a moment to horse that flaregun shut again as the cop leaves (this takes a bit of grunting and another squeak of tortured metal), Alexandra works her fingers after she's tucked it back out of sight beneath the counter. Stiff old beast.

Unconcerned with his servant's troubles with her wares, the adolescent Maine Coon that actually owns this store chooses this moment to pad up to Danny and sniff curiously at her ankle. Machiavelli's not as large as some of his breed get, but he's certainly bigger than your usual housecat. Hi there.

Gareth oohs. "Lasagna? That sounds like it might be pretty good," Gareth says, with a kind of suspicious longing, the way a mouse might sniff at some tasty cheese sitting on a perfectly innocent looking mousetrap. He shifts a bit, stepping back into the store. "I'll try it and stuff," he says. "You know, just to make sure it ain't poison or nothing," he says. He glances back at the counter, then says to Liane. "Hey, so, are tarot cards a bad idea to get someone? Like 'cause everyone has their own or some secret etiquette thing?"

Boots darts in between the feet of an incoming customer. he smells fellow kitty his little nostrils working as he looks around.

Danny stares down at the large Machiavelli, then crouches down to pet it. Slowly, so the cat has time to object. Assuming there is no argument, the large woman scoops up the cat - apparently with ease. Considering Danny is built like a firefighter, construction worker, or other strength-possessing profession, this isn't difficult for her, it seems.

Liane, meanwhile, pauses in her jewelry prodding to glance over at Gareth and smiles, though she does pause at his words and looks thoughtful. "N-n-not really a b-bad idea. As l-long as the p-person offering g-gives them with good th-thoughts: otherw-w-wise, they would n-need to be r-recons-s-secrated or c-carried until they can be c-comfortably used. B-but that's only if you use th-them for the occ-c-cult, and g-generally, these days, f-few really f-follow anything but th-their own p-personalized rules for the c-care and h-handling of their decks."

Machiavelli does not object, as such, though he takes a moment to consider Danny's worthiness to touch him. In the end, he suffers himself to be lifted, settling against the woman's chest, apparently quite comfortable. That is, until he catches a scent and looks around with his ears laid back. Who dares intrude in his realm?

Alexandra, for her part, seems oblivious to feline intrusions, and is willing to let Liane and Gareth chat for the moment as she wipes a bit of rust off his hands and starts straightening out that dress Liane found earlier on top of the counter, probably in preparation for wrapping it up.

"But...someone who knew how to do that stuff could reconsiderate it themselves, right?" Gareth asks Liane, suspiciously. He ponders the rest of what Liane said, and once again looks over at the counter. "But would it be weird and stuff? I just don't know etiquette when it comes to, uh, 'occult' stuff." He glances at the new cat and blinks a bit. This is new.

Boots stalks cautious toward Danny peering up at the bigger cat with ears in the position of curious but cautious intrest.

"Oh, c-c-certainly. They w-would have to. And it's n-not particularly odd, no. G-g-giving a d-deck every s-season might be, but it s-seems a th-thoughtful enough g-gift, I think." Liane has not noticed the cat. She's too busy examining what appears to be an old, large silver broach, with a smooth surface and just a bit of a decorative border on it, and looks quite pleased with her find, though it's a touch tarnished. She doesn't notice the new kitty!

For her part, Danny just holds the cat, scratching it with a sort of bland and respectful attentiveness that MIGHT be deemed affection, if you ''really'' stretched the meaning of the word. The smaller cat is glanced at, but Danny's got most of her attention on the big one and Liane.

Machiavelli does not appear amused by this newest interloper, glaring down at Boots and making a noise that Danny can likely feel as much as hear: a low growl that might translate clearest as "your bones look soft enough to eat, still." Given the fact he's easily three times the size of the other cat...

Alexandra, either keen of hearing or just happening to glance over, spots the newcomer and immediately looks worried. "Oh dear." Around the counter she comes, headed right for the kitten, "C'mon darling, outside. Mac's territorial. C'mon..." Yes, she's trying to shoo Boots back towards the front door, though she hasn't tried to make a grab for him yet.

Boots peers up at the Big cat, sitting all prim and proper at Danny's feet and washing a paw waiting for the attention of the resident owner.. 'i.e. the other cat' Boots glances over at Alexandra with big curious golden eyes and yawns big mouthed.

Gareth hmms, thoughtfully. Still pondering what Liane said. "All right," he says, "I'll do it." He glances at the counter, then sees Alexandra moving to the door, and Boots, to shoo the new cat outside. He kind of blinks and steps back. "Man, that's an unusual-looking cat," he mutters.

For all the new cat appears to not have a care in the world, Alexandra is intent on her goal. If he doesn't move himself, she'll quite firmly scoop him up, carry him to the door, and deposit him carefully but firmly outside. Before Machiavelli decides to take matters into his own paws. And judging by the tone in that growl, it wouldn't be a polite little "would you kindly step outside" sort of thing.

Gareth steps to one side. He's got no dog in this race. Or cat, as it happens. He seems content to be a spectator in this little microdrama.

Boots Chirps unhappily a plaintive little sound and touches his nose to Alexandra's if he can reach while she carries him.. his big ears swiveling a little.. throwing full force cute at her with big wide golden eyes.

Danny doesn't look intent on keeping the cat if it chooses to jump. Apparently the idea of holding a clawing cat of this size doesn't appeal to the large woman. Liane, however, is alerted to the hullabaloo in only a vaguely distracted, 'Oh look people are moving about' sort of way. Instead, she calls out, "G-g-gareth, y-you're a boy. C-c-come here a m-moment? I w-want to get s-s-something for Th-theseus, but I c-can't choose between th-these rings or th-the n-necklace ch-charms..." Goal-Oriented Liane is sadly singular-minded!

Alexandra is unmoved by cute. Only once the intruding feline is outside and the door shut does she sigh and shake her head before turning back to the humans in the room, "Sorry about that. Machiavelli's ''very'' picky about who he lets in his store." She grins a bit at how Danny's holding said cat, who seems to be calming down now that the interloper has been dealt with. "Normally it isn't an issue."

Boots presses his little kitty face against the glass and makes a plaintive chirping cry! and paws sadly at the glass with one paw.

Gareth is happy to step away from the cat-tastrophe. He slouches away, walking down one bookshelf and then back around over to Liane. "Sure, what'cha lookin' at?" he asks Liane, curiously. He looks at rings and necklaces, looking mildly curious and baffled by the variety.

"W-well, there's th-this one." Liane says, pointing to a ring with a gloved hand. It's a silver ring with a few tiny red jewels around the center, in the front. Two of the tiny jewels seem missing, but chances are they could be easily replaced. "Th-then there's th-this one--" 'This one' is right on top of the silver one. It's either silver or white gold, with a large square onyx there. "And th-there's this lovely g-g-gold one." Which is in a case, and consists of a gold band with three diagonal lines of gems, one of diamond, the middle of some red gems a little darker than the first ring's, and another one of diamond. "Wh-which do you think?"

Minor crisis averted, Alexandra heads back behind the counter and gathers up that dress Liane found, calling over to the little gathering "I'll just get this wrapped for you, won't take too long." Then she grins, turning towards the door to the back room, "Don't try to steal anything, or Mac'll eat you." The cat underlines this by resting his head on Danny's shoulder and closing his eyes, doing that thing cats do where they seem to somehow gain weight the longer they lie on you. So fierce.

----
'''''Brief gap as Alexandra's player had to run AFK'''''
----

"N-no, I d-don't think so." Liane touches her own rather long tresses, "As f-for that, I d-doubt you will. I'm s-s-sure whoever r-receives them wil be t-touched, especially n-knowing your...g-general d-disfavor with such things. You're a r-rather sweet person, on occ-c-casion." A twitch of Liane's lips, and then she wrinkles her forehead. "B-bell is the p-playboy. He t-tends to have w-women left and right, and th-though he's always...g-gallant, he's n-not particularly d-d-discerning. Th-theseus is m-more low key, but he's h-had his fair sh-share of female adm-m-mirers. M-male too, n-now that I think of it, but Th-theseus has only h-had girlfriends. They u-usually get ups-s-set at the am-mount of f-female friends they have." Liane is a shameless gossip when it comes to her brothers!

Gareth flashes a...grouchy look at the compliment. But takes it. "Yeah, well..." he mutters. "Don' tell anyone, ok?" Pause. "I like the low-key dude the best. Bellephron sounds like a guy I would want to constantly smack the smirk off of his face." He blinks, then says to Liane. "D'oh, sorry - forgot he's your brother and all. My brothers were mostly assholes," he explains. As an offer of contrition, he says, "I like the Theseus dude. Cool name, too. He the one that tricked the minotaur or something?"

Liane and Gareth are by the jewelry. Danny is blandly holding a humongous cat with little effort. Alexandra is in a back room. The elephant isn't in the room.

Weston walks into the store, looking around with some interest at all of the stuff. Finding Liane and Gareth he raises his eyebrows and waves again. "Fancy meeting y'all here," he says, and approaches to take a look at all of the shiny stuff behind the glass cases.

It's about this time that Alexandra comes back out into the main room, carrying a paper bag of the sort with little paper-strip handles for carrying, which she sets on the counter near the cash-register. The jingle of the bell makes her look over and grin as Weston apparently recognizes the others already here, "Did someone put out the word this is a good place to hang out without letting me know? Hi there! Just let me know if you need help with anything."

Machiavelli, the Maine Coon dozing on Danny, doesn't even dignify Weston with a flick of an ear. You have been Ignored, good sir.

Emily slips inside the shop shortly after Weston while wearing simple clothing that consists of a pink tank top and low slung black jeans. Her dark hair is gathered into a braid with a few strands escaping to fall into her face. She looks toward Liane after hearing Weston's greeting and gives her a wave, suggesting she is at least a little familar with the woman. When Alexandra arrives she gives her a brief curious study. "Oh, you work here Miss?"

"The m-mythological Th-theseus, yes. And it's q-quite all right: Bellereph-phon is quite a l-large ass. Ch-chiron is an upt-t-tight ass, and Th-theseus a s-s-smart ass." There's affection in her tone! And yet she says this all as if informing Gareth that yes, two times two is four, and two times four is eight, etc. And oh look, a Weston! Liane turns to smile at the boy, glancing up at him - perhaps lingering a fraction of a second longer than she normally might. "I'm g-g-getting gifts."

"Then I definitely like Theseus." Gareth grins big. "Always did like the heroes that tricked all the monsters, as opposed to the ones who went knuckle-to-knuckle with 'em-" He glances at the doorway. "Oh, hey, Weston!" he squints at the young man. "Fancy meetin' you here, too! You look...different somehow. Not sure why. What's up, anyways?" Spying Alexandra returning, he says, "Hey, so, ah, how much were those cards, anyways?"

Cats, eh? Weston just gives it a raise of the eyebrow, and gives Danny the ol' Nod of Silent Acknowledgement. He turns around behind him to size up Emily for a moment, grunting a quiet "How you doing," before sidling up to Gareth. "Yeah, you could say that," Weston replies, replying with a grin and a wink and looks back to Alexandra. "Yeah, this place has cool stuff."

The woman behind the counter grins at Emily openly, leaning her hands on the counter, "Own the place, actually. I suppose that counts. What can I help you with?"

Gareth's question, however, makes Alexandra frown slightly in consideration, then she waves the boy back over towards the counter, "C'mere for a second, I want to check something before I answer that."

It's about this time that Machiavelli decides that he wishes to be elsewhere, nudging at Danny with nose and forepaws until she gets the idea and lets him hop down to the floor with a resounding thud, and thence stalking lazily off back into the shelves.

"I'm good." Emily says seemingly in response to Weston who she studies for a shy moment from beneath the cover of her lashes. She then turns her attention to Alexandra, seemingly especially interested in the woman when she talks about owning the place. "Oh, I am looking for gifts." She says with the kind of vagueness that suggests she does not know exactly whe wants. "For a man, maybe...I don't know, cufflinks, pins, wallets, what do guys like?" She says, looking over to Gareth and Weston like she wonders if being male might give them some insight on this.

Gareth grins back to Weston, then says, "You good with jewelry or anything like that? Liane here needs help picking something out for her brothers." When Emily asks her question, he says, "Aw, I just said cufflinks. I think they're mad cool, though I don't got a suit to wear 'em with. You might want to check out an old book or something, too. Or a flask, if he drinks." He has a look on his face like he has several other guy-gift ideas, but keeps them in check. He flashes Alexandra a curious look, and mumbles, "Scuse me," to Liane and Weston, walking over to the counter with a curious look on his face. "Check what?"

Danny isn't exactly clutching the cat like a lifeline. It could probably just hop off, as if Danny was furniture. The woman seems to like pretending to be a statue half the time anyway. "I th-think you two m-might get along. He's m-mellower than you are, h-however." And then Gareth is getting called off to have himself checked for birthmakes or something. "Ah..wh-when you have a ch-chance, I'd l-like this r-r-ring, please." Liane says, before looking at Weston with a small grin. "You c-can help me p-pick out a s-set of c-c-cufflinks for B-bellereph-phon, unless you're l-looking for s-something yourself."

"They are cool." Emily says in response to Gareth. "I don't know if he reads. I mean, he probably ''can'' read, but I never seen him curl-up with a book or anything like that. He does drink though." She says, museing out loud. "Brothers.." Emily says and then peeks toward Liane, giving her a warm smile that brings forther dimples. She then looks all curious as Liane asks to see a ring and she tries to get a look at it. "You remember, Peter?" she adds to Liane. "I am looking for him."

"Old books work, yeah, flasks too," Weston replies, turning around to look back at Emily. "Peter? I've met a Peter. You know if he's got something that's worn down or broke? Replacing something of his that's busted with something cool shows you care, for sure." Then he turns around to Liane, looking down at the cufflinks with an eye for quality, as though he's been around the block where crafts are concerned. He looks around for a moment, then points out a pair of [http://imgur.com/ZiM22 gold ones]. "These," he says quietly. "What do you think?"

Emily gets a smile and a nod over to where Liane's digging through some old jewelboxes, "Seems to be a lot of that going around lately. You're welcome to rummage and see if anything strikes your fancy. There's rings, pins, all kinds of things. Or other stuff that's not jewelry, if you don't think that'd strike his fancy." Liane gets a nod and a smile, "Certainly, miss."

When Gareth comes over, however, Alexandra holds out her hands to him, palm up, "Let me see your hands a moment?" Yes, it could probably seem creepy, or at least a little odd, but it's not like she's leering horribly or anything...

Gareth's expression is frankly suspicious, like Alexandra is going to play some horrible practical joke on him, but he does offer his hand out, palm up. "What's all this for? What's it got to do with cards, anyways?" To Emily he says, "I'd totally get that guy a flask. Flasks are badassed."

"This Peter is very unique looking. "Emily says toward Weston and given her tone unique might be a subtle way of saying there is something off about his appearance. "I don't know if he has anything broken, I never saw him with anything broke." She says, sounding a bit fustrated like she is gift confused. Whereas Weston as an eye for quality, Emily seems like she doesn't quite know what she is doing. "Nice.." She says to teh pair of cufflinks that Weston picks out the cufflinks for Liane. "He might wear a pin maybe or a ring, but he has really large hands, it would have to be a big one. He wears belts too. Do you have payment plans?" She then peeks back over to Gareth. "They are?" She says, sounding like she really doesn't know, but trusts his judgement on that.

Liane leans forward to examine the cufflinks, then looks over towards Weston and downright beams. "Oh, th-those are p-p-perfect! Q-q-quite lovely." She glances over at Alexandra, to see if she's done molesting Gareth or whatever it is she was planning. but otherwise lets Weston and Emily chat. Danny is doing her statue impression. Ignore her!

Alexandra just grins at Gareth as she takes hold of his hands, "Indulge a crazy old woman a moment." Her grip isn't anything to write home about, and could certainly be pulled away from without difficulty. However, all she does is look down at the boy's palms, tilting her head a little to one side as she looks them over. Her examination takes a few moments, after which she makes a soft "hm!" sound to herself and nods, letting go and looking up, "Twenty bucks and they're yours to give. I might even be able to find something nicer than the baggie, if you want?"

Emily's question about payment plans makes the woman blink, then frown as though she'd never thought of the idea, "I suppose so, certainly. I don't have much that's ''that'' expensive, though..." Certainly not the stuff just sitting out for people to rummage through and handle.

"Twenty bucks? Wow, cool! And yeah, something to put it in, or I'll lose it on the way back to the dorms," says Gareth, raising both eyebrows. "I got that." He withdraws his hands, squinting. "What'd you find out, doc?" he asks Alexandra curiously. "I'm gonna die of skin cancer, aren't I?" He grins cheerfully. "Seriously, though. That mole is probably not malignant, the doctors say." He's rummaging around in his pocket for money. Which he pulls out, all crinkled, like when he gets change he just crumples it into a ball and puts it in his pocket.

"Oh, him," Weston replies, looking back at Emily. "Yeah, I think he'd like something like a flask or a wallet." He looks over at a stand with a bunch of flasks on it, and picks up a very interesting-looking one, bound in leather with what looks like a design of a bunch of marble statues, under which is inscribed 'Fonti di Trevi'. He picks it up and hands it over to Emily to examine. "This looks pretty cool," he says, looking Emily over for another second, like a quick peek at the sun - don't stare too long!

Emily peeks over toward Liane as she reacts to the cufflinks, seeming drawn to her excited reaction. She then turns her attention back to Alexandra. "Oh!" She says and finally starts to touch things, running her fingertips over a flask. She probably thinks she can afford the items now that they declared as possibly affordable. "Hmmm.." She says looking back toward Weston and dropping down her hands. She then reaches for the flask and her brown eyes widen a little with delight. "Oh, that is perfect!" She says, her voice soft and happy. "How much is this one?" She adds to Alexandra, lifting up the item.

Danny, insufferable woman that she is, walks over towards Liane and whispers something quietly in her ear, leaning forward - the two have almost a foot of difference between them! Liane glances around at the others in the room a touch curiously, before she looks in the jewelry case. Alexandra's busy, still, so Liane busies herself with checkin' out the goods. As for talk of Peter, Liane quite firmly says nothing.

Alexandra glances over at Emily's question, rolls her eyes upwards as she consults some internal catalog of values, then nods a little and answers, "Thirty dollars, plus tax." Simple enough, no frills.

Gareth's question, however, makes the shopkeep hesitate a moment before she just bends to rummage that pack of tarot cards out from under the counter again, digging a moment longer before also coming up with an undyed drawstring cloth bag, which she transfers the cards to, tucking the ziplock they used to reside in back beneath the counter. Then she leans her hands on the countertop and looks Gareth right in the eyes, "Don't be afraid of who you really are, or showing it to others. It might help you with your relationships." For that moment, she's dead serious.

Then she smiles a little wryly and nudges the bagged cards towards the boy, scooping up his wad of cash, "You want a reciept?"

Blink, blink, goes Gareth, and he stops a second, almost freezes. He kind of makes a face. But it's brief. Then he just kind of caassually smiles at Alexandra, and raises up his right hand. "My relationships?" He looks at his hand, and scolds it. "You told her about all those awful things we did in the dark, didn't you? You whore!" WIth his left hand, he fishes out about twenty bucks worth of change. "Sure, a receipt would be fine - you know, in case they're malfunctioning or something, I'm gonna want my money back." Pause. "Now I gotta go - me and my hand have to have a.... ''conversation''."

Weston looks over at Liane and smiles, saying "Good, those look well-made and the olive-leaf pattern is nice." Chuckling at Gareth's joke, the guy turns his black-haired head to look at Emily. "His last name's Italian, and that writing on there looks Italian, too. I think it means 'Fountain of Trevi', if it means the same thing it does in Latin."

Emily does not believe in fortune telling, let alone actually realize that it just occured in front of her, still she gives Gareth a teasing smile when he is given advice. She then turns her attention back to Alexandra. "Oh, okay, that sounds good." She says and pulls out two twenties from the pocket of her dark low-slung jeans. "I will probably be back here again, Peter is the kind of guy who needs a lot of gifts. "Good luck with that!" She then says toward Gareth as he speaks of going to talk to his hand. She then turns her attention back to Weston and for some reason the girl seems a little wary of him and yet still interested enough to keep talking. "He's Italian. I don't know the language, but I will pretend like I understood and tell him it means that." She says, smiling, a dimpled smile.

Liane turns to look at Gareth and his preparations to leave. "G-give me a m-m-moment and I'll be r-right there as w-well." Liane calls out, before she looks over at Alexandra. "Exc-c-cuse me, I'd l-like s-several of these p-pieces, p-please." She manages, pulling out the credit card. Liane? Cash? Eh. Only when she needs to tip. As for Weston and Emily's budding friendship-- Liane has better things to worry about. But she's nosy, and glances over there fersure.

Alexandra laughs a little at Gareth's stern talk, ringing up his purchase and tearing the reciept from where it prints out of what looks like an antique cash register. Must not be so antique on the inside. Handing the reciept over, her smile's almost fond, "As you will. Good luck." But with that somewhat cryptic goodbye, she turns to her other customers.

Emily's purchase is rung up and her change counted out, with Liane's right behind it, both going in paper bags instead of plastic. Liane's card gives even more lie to the antique look of the register, because one of the decorative slots in the casing apparently hides a card-reader. In the end, though, the bags are parcelled out without further incident jewelry and dress to Liane, hipflask to Emily, "Feel free to come back whenever. I don't mind company."

Weston looks Emily right back in the eye, not blinking for a few moments, but then he breaks it and looks over at Alexandra. "Yeah, this place is full of neat stuff," Weston says. "I'm a woodcarver, too, in case you're in the market for new art."

Gareth glances down at his purchase a bit dubiously, but when Liane calls out, he stops all politeness and waits by the door. "Is this about the lasagna?" he asks, hopefully. He also glances between Emily and Weston - briefly - and then back at Liane and Alexandra.

Emily has some sort of reaction to Weston's stare, a warm pink-flush painting over her cheeks and her breathing elevating just slightly. She steps toward him without seeming fully aware of this, but despite this reaction, the hint of wariness remains her there is a tension about the way she carries herself. "Hmm..." She says, looking back to Alexandra, smiling quickly and reaching out for the bag. "Thanks."

"Y-yes. It's in m-my car, but it's l-l-locked." Liane says to Gareth, holding her bags and shuffling over as she attempts to put her card back in her slim little wallet without bumping into anything. Danny straightens from leaning against the way and follows after, at a casual pace, with a nod towards the others.

Alexandra gives Weston a smile and a nod and plucks a business card from the little stand of them by the register, offering it over to him, "You can at least bring your things by and I'll have a look to see what you might get for them. Being an appraiser king of comes with the territory." As folks start heading out, she offers the lot of them a wave, "Have a nice night!"

"All right, then, lasagna!" says Gareth to Liane, suddenly deeply cheerful. "Lead on!" He's still fiddling with his package. Thinking of something. For a brief flit of a moment, when all eyes are seemingly on Emily and Weston, he makes the tiniest of frowns.

Weston mirrors Emily's gesture, stepping forward, seeming to get the cues himself but not really getting it either. He does turn around to take Alexandra's card and look quizzically at Gareth, but then he just turns around to look at Emily again. "If you're not doing anything tonight, I have some free time," he says amiably enough.

Emily glances briefly toward Gareth but if she notices his frown or not is hard to tell. She holds the paperback, crinkling it up around the top in the process to make a kind of handle. "Oh." She says toward Weston's first like she is not quite sure how to respond him. the flush remains staining into her olive-tone cheeks and her smile returns, but it is a stalling smile, maybe moreso than a natural one. "Alright, coffee or something. My boyfriend would be pissed otherwise." She says, but despite that statement seems drawn to him, like had some primal reaction she does not fully understand.

Liane smiles indulgently at Gareth, and once her credit card is away, she reaches for her keys. "W-w-wonderful." There's a glance back as Weston tries to make friends -- clearly they're just trying to make friends! "L-let's go g-g-get the bags. Do you n-n-need a r-r-ride back on c-campus?" Liane queries, glancing up at Gareth slightly. She missed whatever small frown was there -- unless it's still there, in which case she looks at him in slight puzzlement, and seems to be mentally checking off a list, before looking from Gareth to the friendly children.

Gareth catches Weston's confused look, and his look quickly turns into a kind of a chuckle. He rubs his nose. "All right, see you two." He says to Weston, "Hey, Wes, let me know when you're free for math tutoring." And then he turns, looking down at Liane. He grins cheerfully. "Sure! I'd love a ride! It's not much of a walk, but I am SO FUCKING LAZY for some reason!"

"Oh, okay," Weston says, shrugging. "Sure yeah, no big deal. Just looking to hang out." He turns to Gareth at his chuckling, following his gaze for a moment and grinning back. "Okay yeah, later Gareth! I'll see you. You too, Miss Liane." He then says something in a foreign language to her!

Emily peeks back toward Liane and Gareth as they seem to be leaving and gives them a wave. She then turns her attention to Weston. "You, know, talk, be friends.." She says and then smiles, a dimple framed smile. "I actually like hot chocolate more than coffee." She says and starts toward the door of the shop.

Liane grins over at Weston. and says in a foreign language, "....... .... .... ... it .. . ... .... ..... ... .... your ...... ... ..... ... .... You've ... .. ..... ........... ... a ... days .. ..... .. ..... ... .... ......." And then she looks over at Gareth and smiles, 'I h-h-hadn't noticed. You're always s-so energ-g-getic and ch-cheerful.' Liane says this with a straight face, save a slight crinkling around her eyes that's rather hard to see, considering she glances towards the ground almost immediately. The other two get a wave as Liane absconds with Gareth.

Weston looks over at Liane and nods, responding one more time in that foreign language, then turns to follow in Emily, saying in English this time, "Yeah? I'm a tea fan, myself, but chocolate is awesome. I think there's a new place around here what sells all that!" Thus he follows after the girl, not really sure what is going on but rolling with it anyway!

Emily just seems baffled as Liane and Weston speak in another language. She then turns her attention back to Weston. "Peter says I am his girlfriend." She says, almost as if giving him some kind of warning. She then starts from the shop, holding her back and apparently on the way to get chocolate with Weston.

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - Another Day/Log

2011-04-06T00:52:09Z

Chaemera: Created page with 'Another day, another dollar. You don't really see a lot of bustle and noise at places like this, so it gives Alexandra plenty of time to do things on her own time. She's gotten t…'

Another day, another dollar. You don't really see a lot of bustle and noise at places like this, so it gives Alexandra plenty of time to do things on her own time. She's gotten the inventory to mostly make sense, gotten the place pretty much arranged how she likes it, and so... it gives her time to fiddle around with other stuff. Which is why she's leaning over the counter with one of those feathers-on-a-stick cat toys, amusing the rather large feline that actually runs this place by letting him bat at it.

In through the out door comes Gareth, hands shoved in his pockets, he shoulders his way past the door, and like before, stops and looks over the place before taking a further step in, like he's committing an impression of the place to memory. Then he steps in, glancing around curiously. "Hello?" he asks, his tone polite.

The woman behind the counter looks up at the dingle of the bell on the door, and Machiavelli takes his moment of distraction to snag the toy and tug it out of her hand, quickly scampering into the shelves with his prize and earning a laugh from Alexandra before she waves to Gareth, "Hey there. Any luck finding that gift you were looking for?"

Gareth spies the cat first, and smiles, his look suggesting that cats charm him. He starts to wander cataway, then looks up and blinks. "Huh?" he asks, a bit dumbly. "Which girl?" He gets an 'aw shucks' grin and scratches behind his ear, though keeping an eye out for interesting things on the shelves as he does.

Alexandra's eyebrow quirks up at that question, and she folds her arms with a mock-chiding expression, "And just how many girls do you owe gifts?" But she's grinning, "The one at the Apothecary. Speaking of, I ''did'' find an old set of tarot cards, though they're kind of beat up."

Gareth reaches out a hand for the cat to sniff - but doesn't maintain eye contact. He responds with a lazy shrug. "You'd be surprised," the college student says. He's standing by the counter now, apparently interested in gaining the friendship of a large and fluffy cat with a somewhat surly demeanor, if his player's memory serves him. He's facing Alexandra, who's behind the counter, and pauses at the second bit she says. "Oh! No, no, I don't need it- I was, ah, I thought I was going to go away for a little while, and I didn't-" He flashes a pained look. "She's not- we're just friends," he protests. "She's just...you know. A cool friend." He cranes his neck to glance over at the counter. "What're these tarot cards look like, anyways? Beat up might not be bad."

Machiavelli isn't so much surly as firmly convinced of his own moral, intellectual and spiritual superiority to you silly two-legged folk. But he deigns to look up from the feather-on-a-stick toy he stole from Alexandra and sniff Gareth's fingers inquisitively. Alexandra, for her part, regards Gareth's verbal flailing with an increasing air of amusement, resting her hip against the counter where she stands behind it with her arms crossed. "...I see," is all she says in the end, grin lurking around the edges of her mouth. The question about the cards, though, has her bending to rummage under the counter, "They're a divination system some people use. You familiar with them at all?"

And into that awkward scene comes Liane, to make things even MORE awkward! As usual, she arrives with that tall native American woman - lesbian lovers? BFFs? Babysitter to the wealthy? Liane doesn't LOOK all that rich...but she certainly looks like she can afford to shop here! Which is apparently her goal. She glances behind her, as if uncertain her friend will follow, but both eventually enter the shop and Liane moves to go look for the dress she was examining before - the embroidered dress, with several rips in the thread. It seems she hasn't recognized Gareth up there, yet!

"A little," Gareth says, drily. "I got the cards read to me once. Was pretty inneresting," he muses. "Can't imagine playing solitaire with them or nothing." He doesn't look up when the door opens, and totally doesn't notice Danny or Liane enter! Or he's ignoring them. It's quite possible. "I know some decks are different from the others, right? Do you have to use different hoodoo voodoo on 'em or anything?" he says this a bit dubiously.

Alexandra comes up from behind the counter with a pack of somewhat-grungy looking cards in a large ziploc. The cards themselves are noticeably larger than your average playing cards, and sized differently, longer. "Each deck has different symbolism on the cards themselves, thus carrying slightly different meanings. Some even have different cards altogether. But the general way to use them's pretty much the same." She glances up as the door's bell rings again, and grins when she spots the shy girl from before. "Just let me know if you need help with anything, miss." No bustling over and spooking the poor thing, nope.

Danny nods towards Alexandra, looking...well, just VERY SUBTLY interested in poking around. Not that those ill-suited to reading emotions, or those who don't know the bland woman would notice. Liane, for her part, reddens a touch and glances over quickly - not enough to make eye contact or anything - and gives a small nod, before taking the dress from its hanging place and downright ''scrutinizing'' those threads.

"Huh," Gareth says. He leans on the counter and looks at the cards, deeply curious. "Different meanings? Like each deck has different meanings or what?" He flashes a bit of a confused look at that. "How does that work? How do people keep 'em all straight?" He motions at the deck. "Can I look at 'em? How are these different from, like, other tarot card decks?" He has a look like he's about to handle a live snake. Interested and yet kind of repelled at the same time.

"Same way anyone keeps things straight. Memorization, mostly. Most decks these days come with little booklets with what each card means." Alexandra unzips the baggie and pulls the cards out, fanning them out a bit before selecting one and setting it face-up on the counter for Gareth to look at, putting the rest of the deck nearby, "Just for example, this one: the Magician. Usually symbolizes inventiveness, creativity, a willingness to think outside the lines, that kind of thing. You could probably find a deep, lengthy discussion on what all the stuff on the card means, but most people just go with the blurb." She gestures at the rest of the deck, "You do a reading by dealing the cards out in a specific pattern, with each location in that pattern changing what the card means a little."

At the moment, Alexandra and Gareth are standing at the counter, while Liane and her attending Danny are poking about elsewhere in the shop, the former examining an old, somewhat raggedy dress.

Evening time, and Gustavo has apparently been out running. He has Nike shorts on, running shoes, a fanny pack on his right hip and a backpack on his wide shoulders. A tanktop - grey, with 'USMC' on it covers a touch of his shoulders and his chest, but leaves his heavily muscled arms and tanned skin bare, enough to show the multicolored tattoo on his right shoulder, with 'USMC', the eagle globe and anchor and 'Semper Fedilis' under it in script. He had an iPod he was listening to, tugging the headphones off his head to rest around his neck as he steps into the shop, catching his breath.

The raggedy dress apparently has embroidery, which Liane is SCRUTINIZING INTENTLY. Still, something apparently pleases her, as she attempts to get the darn dress off the hanger it's on, and runs a hand over a bit of embroidery that hasn't been torn, looking rather pleased. She begins to make her way towards the counter, but the arrival of a buff bod into the store catches her player's attention (although Alas! Liane is faithful and wed!) and she catches sight of Gustavo. It takes a moment for things to connect, but then Liane blushes and gives a tiny wave in Gustavo's direction, lingering a little. Danny just gives a nod-- and good god, did her lips move into a smile? No, it must've been a trick of the light!

Gareth has his forearms on the counter. "Ah, memorization," Gareth says. "Bane of my college life." He's still flashing all sorts of curious look at the tarot cards on the counter. He hesitantly reaches for the Magician card and picks it up, scrutinizing it, but holding it delicately, like it might crumple and turn to dust in his hand. "This'd be good for a gift, though, right? Wouldn't be too weird or nothin'?" He flashes the magician card a dubious look, and then turns to the commotion. He looks over at the jogger in military tattoos, and then spies Liane, and waves in a baffled fashion, his expression seeming to say 'when did you get here?'

Gustavo steps into the shop - doing that sort of cop/ninja/Marine scan thing to check out exits, dangers, hotties - and smiles at Liane. "Mrs. Wiggings-Greyhawk," he greets Liane, 'Ma'am." To Danny, a grin, 'Miss." as he steps in. "How are you all doing? Sir," this to Gareth, "Miss," To Alexandra.

Clearly Liane is training to be a junior ninja. Fight fire with fire, right? Or smoke with smoke, or-- something ninja-y with something ninja-y. At being spotted by Gareth, she does the only proper ninja thing to do and waves her hand in his direction, making him forg-- wait, wrong genre and timepiece. So she just goes with pretending she was too distracted to acknowledge Gareth and not approaching to stab him in the back. "H-h-hello G-gustavo. And you t-too, G-gareth." Clever girl, she even looks faintly surprised to realize the one at the counter is Gareth! "Doing a b-bit of sh-shopping?"

Alexandra shrugs as Gareth asks about gift-appropriateness, "It depends on what she's into, really. Some people regard tarot as devil-worship, after all." The card Gareth's looking at doesn't feel any more fragile than a bit of cardstock would normally, just a bit scuffed up. Probably crammed in the bottom of a storage chest for years or something.

Liane's find is removed from its hanger without undue stress, and she'd certainly notice from her close inspection that some effort's been made to at least get the garment serviceable, if not into mint condition. Some moth-damage has been repaired, a seam or two fixed, that kind of thing.

Gustavo's entrance has Alexandra looking up as the bell rings again, and she returns the officer's greeting with a smile, "Doing fine, officer. What brings you by tonight?"

When Gareth is called 'sir' he flashes Gustavo a deeply confused look, and immediately looks around to see who this 'sir' might be. Gareth's gaze focuses on the cat, who has an expression like the cat seems content to be called 'sir' and thus, to Gareth at least, the mystery is solved. "Ms...Liane," Gareth replies. "Yeah...um..." he looks back at the magician card, and puts it down. Gingerly, despite its assured sturdiness. "Just some dumb cards a friend might like." He inspects the cards a bit more. "Hmm. Devil worship," he mutters, absently.

Gustavo offers a smile to Liane, and then Alexandra, "I have to find something for my father. I was hoping maybe I could find something here. Something neat, and unique," he tells the woman.

"I c-c-came here for a s-spindle before. But I s-s-saw this dress, with s-such curious emb-b-broidery. I w-want to try to l-learn how to m-make it." Liane holds out her arms, with their bounty of raggedy dress. "Th-they have some c-curious things, here. I'm s-sure you'll f-f-find something lovely." Then there's a sidewise glance at Gareth, "Oh y-yes. Quite a f-f-few things can be att-t-tributed to d-devil worship, at some p-point or another. Always g-g-good to blame the n-new, or that wh-which f-frightens you, on the d-devil instead of c-c-cowardice." She murmurs, her words somewhat vaguely said.

Alexandra's expression has something of resigned amusement as Gareth explains to Liane, and she gathers the cards back up to tuck them back into their baggie for safekeeping. "Like how some of the fathers of modern math and science were executed for heresy. 'The earth orbits the sun,' that's Satan speaking, you know." Ah, the foibles of humanity.

Gustavo earns a bit of a considering look, her lips twisting to the side as she thinks. Hmm. "Could be argued most of the stuff in here falls into that, yes. What sorts of things is your father interested in?" Her lurking grin comes back, "I think I've got some World War era military uniforms, though finding one that'd fit you might be tricky."

"You and my father would have had some inneresting conversations, I think," Gareth says to Liane, diplomatically. He flashes Alexandra a patient look at her lecture - but seems to endure it with all the impatience of a young man with a lot of things on his mind. As both Gustavo *and* Liane both step up with things and items they need, he gets self-conscious. "Er," he tells Alexandra. "Looks like you're busy. I'll come 'round another time. You mind holding that for me? I gotta figure out if that'd be a good gift or not." Though he looks a little like, emotionally, he wants to pick up the cool tarot cards, he still politely steps away, making his way to the door.

Gustavo eyes the young man, frowning a bit. "I think I maybe scared him away. Well, what does the sergeant-major like? Hrm. Calling in artillery fire. He likes guns. He likes military stuff. He -really- likes taking out snipers," he says as he runs through his mental list.

"Oh, d-don't leave yet, G-gareth! I've s-something in my c-c-car for you-- I was g-going to leave it at your d-dorm, but if you're here--" Liane calls out after him. It should be noted Liane is rather soft-spoken, so her idea of 'calling out' or 'shouting' is what most people would consider conversational level or maybe a touch above. "G-g-gareth isn't very easily f-f-frightened off by anyth-th-thing except work and w-w-women, I think. The f-former he really m-must get over. The l-l-latter I think q-q-quite sensible of him." A twitch of Liane's lips, then she places the dress in a neat pile on the counter. "H-have you jewelry? Or p-pins and h-hairpieces? S-something not silver, and n-not iron or too r-rusty, though if it l-looks a bit old that m-might be fine."

Alexandra nods to Gareth as he sidles away, not particularly trying to hide her smile but also not seeming all that mean about it. It's funny! "Sure thing. Just drop by whenever."

Gustavo's description makes the woman behind the counter laugh a bit, bending to once again tuck the ziplock'd tarot cards beneath the counter and proceeding to rummage a little, "Well, don't have much in terms of weaponry, certainly not ''functional''. But... ah." She straightens again with a positively ancient flare gun in her hands, the wooden grip missing pieces from where it's dried, shrunk and split, the metal looking like someone's tried to clean rust off it without damaging anything, "Does he like restoring things?"

Liane's question is much more easily answered, and Alexandra grins as she points towards one section of the store, "Those are all jewelry boxes. Feel free to rummage for whatever strikes your fancy. It's all been cleaned, but I can't promise anything to be hypoallergenic."

Gustavo thinks on that a second, "I think so. Especially if I tell him it's really hard and the nice woman at the store said it was almost impossible to restore?" he answers, after a moment or two of thought.

Gareth shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to put back on his earbuds when Liane ''softly'' calls out - but Gareth's apparently alert enough to pick it up. He stops partway to the door and peers curiously at Liane. "Oh yeah? Is it more of that omelet-pie stuff? 'Cause that wasn't half bad." He also peers at the counter, possibly to make extra sure Alexandra puts away the tarot cards and it's not accidentally sold off to some random Marine with an occult fetish.

Gustavo frowns as his fannypack beeps, and he reaches into it to pull out a cellphone, opening it up. 'Go for de Lara," he says in clipped tones, listening. 'Uh huh. Uh huh. Where? I'm near there, now. No no, I have my bag in my car, it's only a mile away, I can sprint. Ok. Yeah. Alright. Seeya there," he says, as he waves to the two women and the young man, frowning. 'Sorry about that. Work calls - I'll check in later, I promise. Drug fueled drive bys wait for no man!" he says before he heads out the door.

"Quiche." Liane supplies helpfully to Gareth. "And I c-can make another for you-- it's q-quite v-versatile. Wh-what is your f-favorite sort of m-m-meat?" She lifts a hand to wave Gustavo off, and then with a quick, brief smile towards Alexandra heads to poke about the boxes.

Another laugh, and then Alexandra unlocks the breach of the flaregun and pulls it open, needing to use both hands for the whole operation and getting an unholy squeal out of the rusty hinge, clearly having to apply a good deal of effort to even get the thing to move. She's not exactly what you'd call a musclebound amazon, though. "And I wouldn't say ''impossible'', merely requiring time, effort and care." She grins, "I imagine a counter-sniper would know about that kind of thing." The phonecall turns her smile into a frown of concern, and she nods in understanding, "Good luck. Take care out there, officer."

Gareth steps out of the way for Gustavo - he is in fact quite intimidated by the larger man, though that might not of been why he eased away from the counter. "So if not quiche-pie, then what'd you get?" he asks Liane, deeply curious. One earbud's in his ear, he's ready to move out and into reality in only a moment's notice. "Favorite meat?" Gareth ponders this. "Do I have to choose?" He squints at Liane. "Heeeyyy, this isn't some kind of 'sexual' thing is it?" He uses air quotes.

Gareth? Intimidated? Nonsense! Liane seems to have faith in Gareth's sheer stubbornness making him immune to such silly things! Then again, the woman has Questionable Judgement. "G-g-gareth!" The woman says, blushing a touch. "Of c-c-course not. It w-will determine wh-what I put into your n-next quiche. And...w-well, I th-thought I'd try m-my hand at m-making lasagna." Liane says as she peers at a pin, "But I g-got carried away and m-make g-garlic and h-herb bread to go al-l-long with it, then I th-thought perhaps it n-needs a side and m-m-made c-cous-cous with v-v-vegetables and a l-light sauce. And th-then I thought I c-could make all that and n-n-not have dessert, so I m-m-made m-mini m-molten l-lava c-cakes." Liane sounds partially apologetic. "S-s-so I thought perhaps you m-might want some."

Danny queries, in the blandest tone while glancing at Liane, "Meat fetish(?)(.)" Is it a question? A comment? A punchline? It's extremely hard to tell.

Taking a moment to horse that flaregun shut again as the cop leaves (this takes a bit of grunting and another squeak of tortured metal), Alexandra works her fingers after she's tucked it back out of sight beneath the counter. Stiff old beast.

Unconcerned with his servant's troubles with her wares, the adolescent Maine Coon that actually owns this store chooses this moment to pad up to Danny and sniff curiously at her ankle. Machiavelli's not as large as some of his breed get, but he's certainly bigger than your usual housecat. Hi there.

Gareth oohs. "Lasagna? That sounds like it might be pretty good," Gareth says, with a kind of suspicious longing, the way a mouse might sniff at some tasty cheese sitting on a perfectly innocent looking mousetrap. He shifts a bit, stepping back into the store. "I'll try it and stuff," he says. "You know, just to make sure it ain't poison or nothing," he says. He glances back at the counter, then says to Liane. "Hey, so, are tarot cards a bad idea to get someone? Like 'cause everyone has their own or some secret etiquette thing?"

Boots darts in between the feet of an incoming customer. he smells fellow kitty his little nostrils working as he looks around.

Danny stares down at the large Machiavelli, then crouches down to pet it. Slowly, so the cat has time to object. Assuming there is no argument, the large woman scoops up the cat - apparently with ease. Considering Danny is built like a firefighter, construction worker, or other strength-possessing profession, this isn't difficult for her, it seems.

Liane, meanwhile, pauses in her jewelry prodding to glance over at Gareth and smiles, though she does pause at his words and looks thoughtful. "N-n-not really a b-bad idea. As l-long as the p-person offering g-gives them with good th-thoughts: otherw-w-wise, they would n-need to be r-recons-s-secrated or c-carried until they can be c-comfortably used. B-but that's only if you use th-them for the occ-c-cult, and g-generally, these days, f-few really f-follow anything but th-their own p-personalized rules for the c-care and h-handling of their decks."

Machiavelli does not object, as such, though he takes a moment to consider Danny's worthiness to touch him. In the end, he suffers himself to be lifted, settling against the woman's chest, apparently quite comfortable. That is, until he catches a scent and looks around with his ears laid back. Who dares intrude in his realm?

Alexandra, for her part, seems oblivious to feline intrusions, and is willing to let Liane and Gareth chat for the moment as she wipes a bit of rust off his hands and starts straightening out that dress Liane found earlier on top of the counter, probably in preparation for wrapping it up.

"But...someone who knew how to do that stuff could reconsiderate it themselves, right?" Gareth asks Liane, suspiciously. He ponders the rest of what Liane said, and once again looks over at the counter. "But would it be weird and stuff? I just don't know etiquette when it comes to, uh, 'occult' stuff." He glances at the new cat and blinks a bit. This is new.

Boots stalks cautious toward Danny peering up at the bigger cat with ears in the position of curious but cautious intrest.

"Oh, c-c-certainly. They w-would have to. And it's n-not particularly odd, no. G-g-giving a d-deck every s-season might be, but it s-seems a th-thoughtful enough g-gift, I think." Liane has not noticed the cat. She's too busy examining what appears to be an old, large silver broach, with a smooth surface and just a bit of a decorative border on it, and looks quite pleased with her find, though it's a touch tarnished. She doesn't notice the new kitty!

For her part, Danny just holds the cat, scratching it with a sort of bland and respectful attentiveness that MIGHT be deemed affection, if you ''really'' stretched the meaning of the word. The smaller cat is glanced at, but Danny's got most of her attention on the big one and Liane.

Machiavelli does not appear amused by this newest interloper, glaring down at Boots and making a noise that Danny can likely feel as much as hear: a low growl that might translate clearest as "your bones look soft enough to eat, still." Given the fact he's easily three times the size of the other cat...

Alexandra, either keen of hearing or just happening to glance over, spots the newcomer and immediately looks worried. "Oh dear." Around the counter she comes, headed right for the kitten, "C'mon darling, outside. Mac's territorial. C'mon..." Yes, she's trying to shoo Boots back towards the front door, though she hasn't tried to make a grab for him yet.

Boots peers up at the Big cat, sitting all prim and proper at Danny's feet and washing a paw waiting for the attention of the resident owner.. 'i.e. the other cat' Boots glances over at Alexandra with big curious golden eyes and yawns big mouthed.

Gareth hmms, thoughtfully. Still pondering what Liane said. "All right," he says, "I'll do it." He glances at the counter, then sees Alexandra moving to the door, and Boots, to shoo the new cat outside. He kind of blinks and steps back. "Man, that's an unusual-looking cat," he mutters.

For all the new cat appears to not have a care in the world, Alexandra is intent on her goal. If he doesn't move himself, she'll quite firmly scoop him up, carry him to the door, and deposit him carefully but firmly outside. Before Machiavelli decides to take matters into his own paws. And judging by the tone in that growl, it wouldn't be a polite little "would you kindly step outside" sort of thing.

Gareth steps to one side. He's got no dog in this race. Or cat, as it happens. He seems content to be a spectator in this little microdrama.

Boots Chirps unhappily a plaintive little sound and touches his nose to Alexandra's if he can reach while she carries him.. his big ears swiveling a little.. throwing full force cute at her with big wide golden eyes.

Danny doesn't look intent on keeping the cat if it chooses to jump. Apparently the idea of holding a clawing cat of this size doesn't appeal to the large woman. Liane, however, is alerted to the hullabaloo in only a vaguely distracted, 'Oh look people are moving about' sort of way. Instead, she calls out, "G-g-gareth, y-you're a boy. C-c-come here a m-moment? I w-want to get s-s-something for Th-theseus, but I c-can't choose between th-these rings or th-the n-necklace ch-charms..." Goal-Oriented Liane is sadly singular-minded!

Alexandra is unmoved by cute. Only once the intruding feline is outside and the door shut does she sigh and shake her head before turning back to the humans in the room, "Sorry about that. Machiavelli's ''very'' picky about who he lets in his store." She grins a bit at how Danny's holding said cat, who seems to be calming down now that the interloper has been dealt with. "Normally it isn't an issue."

Boots presses his little kitty face against the glass and makes a plaintive chirping cry! and paws sadly at the glass with one paw.

Gareth is happy to step away from the cat-tastrophe. He slouches away, walking down one bookshelf and then back around over to Liane. "Sure, what'cha lookin' at?" he asks Liane, curiously. He looks at rings and necklaces, looking mildly curious and baffled by the variety.

"W-well, there's th-this one." Liane says, pointing to a ring with a gloved hand. It's a silver ring with a few tiny red jewels around the center, in the front. Two of the tiny jewels seem missing, but chances are they could be easily replaced. "Th-then there's th-this one--" 'This one' is right on top of the silver one. It's either silver or white gold, with a large square onyx there. "And th-there's this lovely g-g-gold one." Which is in a case, and consists of a gold band with three diagonal lines of gems, one of diamond, the middle of some red gems a little darker than the first ring's, and another one of diamond. "Wh-which do you think?"

Minor crisis averted, Alexandra heads back behind the counter and gathers up that dress Liane found, calling over to the little gathering "I'll just get this wrapped for you, won't take too long." Then she grins, turning towards the door to the back room, "Don't try to steal anything, or Mac'll eat you." The cat underlines this by resting his head on Danny's shoulder and closing his eyes, doing that thing cats do where they seem to somehow gain weight the longer they lie on you. So fierce.
----
''Brief gap as Alexandra's player had to run AFK''
----

"N-no, I d-don't think so." Liane touches her own rather long tresses, "As f-for that, I d-doubt you will. I'm s-s-sure whoever r-receives them wil be t-touched, especially n-knowing your...g-general d-disfavor with such things. You're a r-rather sweet person, on occ-c-casion." A twitch of Liane's lips, and then she wrinkles her forehead. "B-bell is the p-playboy. He t-tends to have w-women left and right, and th-though he's always...g-gallant, he's n-not particularly d-d-discerning. Th-theseus is m-more low key, but he's h-had his fair sh-share of female adm-m-mirers. M-male too, n-now that I think of it, but Th-theseus has only h-had girlfriends. They u-usually get ups-s-set at the am-mount of f-female friends they have." Liane is a shameless gossip when it comes to her brothers!

Gareth flashes a...grouchy look at the compliment. But takes it. "Yeah, well..." he mutters. "Don' tell anyone, ok?" Pause. "I like the low-key dude the best. Bellephron sounds like a guy I would want to constantly smack the smirk off of his face." He blinks, then says to Liane. "D'oh, sorry - forgot he's your brother and all. My brothers were mostly assholes," he explains. As an offer of contrition, he says, "I like the Theseus dude. Cool name, too. He the one that tricked the minotaur or something?"

Liane and Gareth are by the jewelry. Danny is blandly holding a humongous cat with little effort. Alexandra is in a back room. The elephant isn't in the room.

Weston walks into the store, looking around with some interest at all of the stuff. Finding Liane and Gareth he raises his eyebrows and waves again. "Fancy meeting y'all here," he says, and approaches to take a look at all of the shiny stuff behind the glass cases.

It's about this time that Alexandra comes back out into the main room, carrying a paper bag of the sort with little paper-strip handles for carrying, which she sets on the counter near the cash-register. The jingle of the bell makes her look over and grin as Weston apparently recognizes the others already here, "Did someone put out the word this is a good place to hang out without letting me know? Hi there! Just let me know if you need help with anything."

Machiavelli, the Maine Coon dozing on Danny, doesn't even dignify Weston with a flick of an ear. You have been Ignored, good sir.

Emily slips inside the shop shortly after Weston while wearing simple clothing that consists of a pink tank top and low slung black jeans. Her dark hair is gathered into a braid with a few strands escaping to fall into her face. She looks toward Liane after hearing Weston's greeting and gives her a wave, suggesting she is at least a little familar with the woman. When Alexandra arrives she gives her a brief curious study. "Oh, you work here Miss?"

"The m-mythological Th-theseus, yes. And it's q-quite all right: Bellereph-phon is quite a l-large ass. Ch-chiron is an upt-t-tight ass, and Th-theseus a s-s-smart ass." There's affection in her tone! And yet she says this all as if informing Gareth that yes, two times two is four, and two times four is eight, etc. And oh look, a Weston! Liane turns to smile at the boy, glancing up at him - perhaps lingering a fraction of a second longer than she normally might. "I'm g-g-getting gifts."

"Then I definitely like Theseus." Gareth grins big. "Always did like the heroes that tricked all the monsters, as opposed to the ones who went knuckle-to-knuckle with 'em-" He glances at the doorway. "Oh, hey, Weston!" he squints at the young man. "Fancy meetin' you here, too! You look...different somehow. Not sure why. What's up, anyways?" Spying Alexandra returning, he says, "Hey, so, ah, how much were those cards, anyways?"

Cats, eh? Weston just gives it a raise of the eyebrow, and gives Danny the ol' Nod of Silent Acknowledgement. He turns around behind him to size up Emily for a moment, grunting a quiet "How you doing," before sidling up to Gareth. "Yeah, you could say that," Weston replies, replying with a grin and a wink and looks back to Alexandra. "Yeah, this place has cool stuff."

The woman behind the counter grins at Emily openly, leaning her hands on the counter, "Own the place, actually. I suppose that counts. What can I help you with?"

Gareth's question, however, makes Alexandra frown slightly in consideration, then she waves the boy back over towards the counter, "C'mere for a second, I want to check something before I answer that."

It's about this time that Machiavelli decides that he wishes to be elsewhere, nudging at Danny with nose and forepaws until she gets the idea and lets him hop down to the floor with a resounding thud, and thence stalking lazily off back into the shelves.

"I'm good." Emily says seemingly in response to Weston who she studies for a shy moment from beneath the cover of her lashes. She then turns her attention to Alexandra, seemingly especially interested in the woman when she talks about owning the place. "Oh, I am looking for gifts." She says with the kind of vagueness that suggests she does not know exactly whe wants. "For a man, maybe...I don't know, cufflinks, pins, wallets, what do guys like?" She says, looking over to Gareth and Weston like she wonders if being male might give them some insight on this.

Gareth grins back to Weston, then says, "You good with jewelry or anything like that? Liane here needs help picking something out for her brothers." When Emily asks her question, he says, "Aw, I just said cufflinks. I think they're mad cool, though I don't got a suit to wear 'em with. You might want to check out an old book or something, too. Or a flask, if he drinks." He has a look on his face like he has several other guy-gift ideas, but keeps them in check. He flashes Alexandra a curious look, and mumbles, "Scuse me," to Liane and Weston, walking over to the counter with a curious look on his face. "Check what?"

Danny isn't exactly clutching the cat like a lifeline. It could probably just hop off, as if Danny was furniture. The woman seems to like pretending to be a statue half the time anyway. "I th-think you two m-might get along. He's m-mellower than you are, h-however." And then Gareth is getting called off to have himself checked for birthmakes or something. "Ah..wh-when you have a ch-chance, I'd l-like this r-r-ring, please." Liane says, before looking at Weston with a small grin. "You c-can help me p-pick out a s-set of c-c-cufflinks for B-bellereph-phon, unless you're l-looking for s-something yourself."

"They are cool." Emily says in response to Gareth. "I don't know if he reads. I mean, he probably ''can'' read, but I never seen him curl-up with a book or anything like that. He does drink though." She says, museing out loud. "Brothers.." Emily says and then peeks toward Liane, giving her a warm smile that brings forther dimples. She then looks all curious as Liane asks to see a ring and she tries to get a look at it. "You remember, Peter?" she adds to Liane. "I am looking for him."

"Old books work, yeah, flasks too," Weston replies, turning around to look back at Emily. "Peter? I've met a Peter. You know if he's got something that's worn down or broke? Replacing something of his that's busted with something cool shows you care, for sure." Then he turns around to Liane, looking down at the cufflinks with an eye for quality, as though he's been around the block where crafts are concerned. He looks around for a moment, then points out a pair of [http://imgur.com/ZiM22 gold ones]. "These," he says quietly. "What do you think?"

Emily gets a smile and a nod over to where Liane's digging through some old jewelboxes, "Seems to be a lot of that going around lately. You're welcome to rummage and see if anything strikes your fancy. There's rings, pins, all kinds of things. Or other stuff that's not jewelry, if you don't think that'd strike his fancy." Liane gets a nod and a smile, "Certainly, miss."

When Gareth comes over, however, Alexandra holds out her hands to him, palm up, "Let me see your hands a moment?" Yes, it could probably seem creepy, or at least a little odd, but it's not like she's leering horribly or anything...

Gareth's expression is frankly suspicious, like Alexandra is going to play some horrible practical joke on him, but he does offer his hand out, palm up. "What's all this for? What's it got to do with cards, anyways?" To Emily he says, "I'd totally get that guy a flask. Flasks are badassed."

"This Peter is very unique looking. "Emily says toward Weston and given her tone unique might be a subtle way of saying there is something off about his appearance. "I don't know if he has anything broken, I never saw him with anything broke." She says, sounding a bit fustrated like she is gift confused. Whereas Weston as an eye for quality, Emily seems like she doesn't quite know what she is doing. "Nice.." She says to teh pair of cufflinks that Weston picks out the cufflinks for Liane. "He might wear a pin maybe or a ring, but he has really large hands, it would have to be a big one. He wears belts too. Do you have payment plans?" She then peeks back over to Gareth. "They are?" She says, sounding like she really doesn't know, but trusts his judgement on that.

Liane leans forward to examine the cufflinks, then looks over towards Weston and downright beams. "Oh, th-those are p-p-perfect! Q-q-quite lovely." She glances over at Alexandra, to see if she's done molesting Gareth or whatever it is she was planning. but otherwise lets Weston and Emily chat. Danny is doing her statue impression. Ignore her!

Alexandra just grins at Gareth as she takes hold of his hands, "Indulge a crazy old woman a moment." Her grip isn't anything to write home about, and could certainly be pulled away from without difficulty. However, all she does is look down at the boy's palms, tilting her head a little to one side as she looks them over. Her examination takes a few moments, after which she makes a soft "hm!" sound to herself and nods, letting go and looking up, "Twenty bucks and they're yours to give. I might even be able to find something nicer than the baggie, if you want?"

Emily's question about payment plans makes the woman blink, then frown as though she'd never thought of the idea, "I suppose so, certainly. I don't have much that's ''that'' expensive, though..." Certainly not the stuff just sitting out for people to rummage through and handle.

"Twenty bucks? Wow, cool! And yeah, something to put it in, or I'll lose it on the way back to the dorms," says Gareth, raising both eyebrows. "I got that." He withdraws his hands, squinting. "What'd you find out, doc?" he asks Alexandra curiously. "I'm gonna die of skin cancer, aren't I?" He grins cheerfully. "Seriously, though. That mole is probably not malignant, the doctors say." He's rummaging around in his pocket for money. Which he pulls out, all crinkled, like when he gets change he just crumples it into a ball and puts it in his pocket.

"Oh, him," Weston replies, looking back at Emily. "Yeah, I think he'd like something like a flask or a wallet." He looks over at a stand with a bunch of flasks on it, and picks up a very interesting-looking one, bound in leather with what looks like a design of a bunch of marble statues, under which is inscribed 'Fonti di Trevi'. He picks it up and hands it over to Emily to examine. "This looks pretty cool," he says, looking Emily over for another second, like a quick peek at the sun - don't stare too long!

Emily peeks over toward Liane as she reacts to the cufflinks, seeming drawn to her excited reaction. She then turns her attention back to Alexandra. "Oh!" She says and finally starts to touch things, running her fingertips over a flask. She probably thinks she can afford the items now that they declared as possibly affordable. "Hmmm.." She says looking back toward Weston and dropping down her hands. She then reaches for the flask and her brown eyes widen a little with delight. "Oh, that is perfect!" She says, her voice soft and happy. "How much is this one?" She adds to Alexandra, lifting up the item.

Danny, insufferable woman that she is, walks over towards Liane and whispers something quietly in her ear, leaning forward - the two have almost a foot of difference between them! Liane glances around at the others in the room a touch curiously, before she looks in the jewelry case. Alexandra's busy, still, so Liane busies herself with checkin' out the goods. As for talk of Peter, Liane quite firmly says nothing.

Alexandra glances over at Emily's question, rolls her eyes upwards as she consults some internal catalog of values, then nods a little and answers, "Thirty dollars, plus tax." Simple enough, no frills.

Gareth's question, however, makes the shopkeep hesitate a moment before she just bends to rummage that pack of tarot cards out from under the counter again, digging a moment longer before also coming up with an undyed drawstring cloth bag, which she transfers the cards to, tucking the ziplock they used to reside in back beneath the counter. Then she leans her hands on the countertop and looks Gareth right in the eyes, "Don't be afraid of who you really are, or showing it to others. It might help you with your relationships." For that moment, she's dead serious.

Then she smiles a little wryly and nudges the bagged cards towards the boy, scooping up his wad of cash, "You want a reciept?"

Blink, blink, goes Gareth, and he stops a second, almost freezes. He kind of makes a face. But it's brief. Then he just kind of caassually smiles at Alexandra, and raises up his right hand. "My relationships?" He looks at his hand, and scolds it. "You told her about all those awful things we did in the dark, didn't you? You whore!" WIth his left hand, he fishes out about twenty bucks worth of change. "Sure, a receipt would be fine - you know, in case they're malfunctioning or something, I'm gonna want my money back." Pause. "Now I gotta go - me and my hand have to have a.... ''conversation''."

Weston looks over at Liane and smiles, saying "Good, those look well-made and the olive-leaf pattern is nice." Chuckling at Gareth's joke, the guy turns his black-haired head to look at Emily. "His last name's Italian, and that writing on there looks Italian, too. I think it means 'Fountain of Trevi', if it means the same thing it does in Latin."

Emily does not believe in fortune telling, let alone actually realize that it just occured in front of her, still she gives Gareth a teasing smile when he is given advice. She then turns her attention back to Alexandra. "Oh, okay, that sounds good." She says and pulls out two twenties from the pocket of her dark low-slung jeans. "I will probably be back here again, Peter is the kind of guy who needs a lot of gifts. "Good luck with that!" She then says toward Gareth as he speaks of going to talk to his hand. She then turns her attention back to Weston and for some reason the girl seems a little wary of him and yet still interested enough to keep talking. "He's Italian. I don't know the language, but I will pretend like I understood and tell him it means that." She says, smiling, a dimpled smile.

Liane turns to look at Gareth and his preparations to leave. "G-give me a m-m-moment and I'll be r-right there as w-well." Liane calls out, before she looks over at Alexandra. "Exc-c-cuse me, I'd l-like s-several of these p-pieces, p-please." She manages, pulling out the credit card. Liane? Cash? Eh. Only when she needs to tip. As for Weston and Emily's budding friendship-- Liane has better things to worry about. But she's nosy, and glances over there fersure.

Alexandra laughs a little at Gareth's stern talk, ringing up his purchase and tearing the reciept from where it prints out of what looks like an antique cash register. Must not be so antique on the inside. Handing the reciept over, her smile's almost fond, "As you will. Good luck." But with that somewhat cryptic goodbye, she turns to her other customers.

Emily's purchase is rung up and her change counted out, with Liane's right behind it, both going in paper bags instead of plastic. Liane's card gives even more lie to the antique look of the register, because one of the decorative slots in the casing apparently hides a card-reader. In the end, though, the bags are parcelled out without further incident jewelry and dress to Liane, hipflask to Emily, "Feel free to come back whenever. I don't mind company."

Weston looks Emily right back in the eye, not blinking for a few moments, but then he breaks it and looks over at Alexandra. "Yeah, this place is full of neat stuff," Weston says. "I'm a woodcarver, too, in case you're in the market for new art."

Gareth glances down at his purchase a bit dubiously, but when Liane calls out, he stops all politeness and waits by the door. "Is this about the lasagna?" he asks, hopefully. He also glances between Emily and Weston - briefly - and then back at Liane and Alexandra.

Emily has some sort of reaction to Weston's stare, a warm pink-flush painting over her cheeks and her breathing elevating just slightly. She steps toward him without seeming fully aware of this, but despite this reaction, the hint of wariness remains her there is a tension about the way she carries herself. "Hmm..." She says, looking back to Alexandra, smiling quickly and reaching out for the bag. "Thanks."

"Y-yes. It's in m-my car, but it's l-l-locked." Liane says to Gareth, holding her bags and shuffling over as she attempts to put her card back in her slim little wallet without bumping into anything. Danny straightens from leaning against the way and follows after, at a casual pace, with a nod towards the others.

Alexandra gives Weston a smile and a nod and plucks a business card from the little stand of them by the register, offering it over to him, "You can at least bring your things by and I'll have a look to see what you might get for them. Being an appraiser king of comes with the territory." As folks start heading out, she offers the lot of them a wave, "Have a nice night!"

"All right, then, lasagna!" says Gareth to Liane, suddenly deeply cheerful. "Lead on!" He's still fiddling with his package. Thinking of something. For a brief flit of a moment, when all eyes are seemingly on Emily and Weston, he makes the tiniest of frowns.

Weston mirrors Emily's gesture, stepping forward, seeming to get the cues himself but not really getting it either. He does turn around to take Alexandra's card and look quizzically at Gareth, but then he just turns around to look at Emily again. "If you're not doing anything tonight, I have some free time," he says amiably enough.

Emily glances briefly toward Gareth but if she notices his frown or not is hard to tell. She holds the paperback, crinkling it up around the top in the process to make a kind of handle. "Oh." She says toward Weston's first like she is not quite sure how to respond him. the flush remains staining into her olive-tone cheeks and her smile returns, but it is a stalling smile, maybe moreso than a natural one. "Alright, coffee or something. My boyfriend would be pissed otherwise." She says, but despite that statement seems drawn to him, like had some primal reaction she does not fully understand.

Liane smiles indulgently at Gareth, and once her credit card is away, she reaches for her keys. "W-w-wonderful." There's a glance back as Weston tries to make friends -- clearly they're just trying to make friends! "L-let's go g-g-get the bags. Do you n-n-need a r-r-ride back on c-campus?" Liane queries, glancing up at Gareth slightly. She missed whatever small frown was there -- unless it's still there, in which case she looks at him in slight puzzlement, and seems to be mentally checking off a list, before looking from Gareth to the friendly children.

Gareth catches Weston's confused look, and his look quickly turns into a kind of a chuckle. He rubs his nose. "All right, see you two." He says to Weston, "Hey, Wes, let me know when you're free for math tutoring." And then he turns, looking down at Liane. He grins cheerfully. "Sure! I'd love a ride! It's not much of a walk, but I am SO FUCKING LAZY for some reason!"

"Oh, okay," Weston says, shrugging. "Sure yeah, no big deal. Just looking to hang out." He turns to Gareth at his chuckling, following his gaze for a moment and grinning back. "Okay yeah, later Gareth! I'll see you. You too, Miss Liane." He then says something in a foreign language to her!

Emily peeks back toward Liane and Gareth as they seem to be leaving and gives them a wave. She then turns her attention to Weston. "You, know, talk, be friends.." She says and then smiles, a dimple framed smile. "I actually like hot chocolate more than coffee." She says and starts toward the door of the shop.

Liane grins over at Weston. and says in a foreign language, "....... .... .... ... it .. . ... .... ..... ... .... your ...... ... ..... ... .... You've ... .. ..... ........... ... a ... days .. ..... .. ..... ... .... ......." And then she looks over at Gareth and smiles, 'I h-h-hadn't noticed. You're always s-so energ-g-getic and ch-cheerful.' Liane says this with a straight face, save a slight crinkling around her eyes that's rather hard to see, considering she glances towards the ground almost immediately. The other two get a wave as Liane absconds with Gareth.

Weston looks over at Liane and nods, responding one more time in that foreign language, then turns to follow in Emily, saying in English this time, "Yeah? I'm a tea fan, myself, but chocolate is awesome. I think there's a new place around here what sells all that!" Thus he follows after the girl, not really sure what is going on but rolling with it anyway!

Emily just seems baffled as Liane and Weston speak in another language. She then turns her attention back to Weston. "Peter says I am his girlfriend." She says, almost as if giving him some kind of warning. She then starts from the shop, holding her back and apparently on the way to get chocolate with Weston.

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - Another Day

2011-04-06T00:24:28Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}09/28/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}04/05/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Emily]]
* [[Gareth]]
* [[Gustavo]]
* [[Liane]]
* [[Weston]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - Another Day/Setting

2011-04-06T00:20:55Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - Another Day

2011-04-06T00:19:39Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{subst:Log}}'

Alexandra/Allies

2011-04-06T00:19:08Z

Chaemera:

{| align="center"
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Deacon]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Trace]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Petra]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Deacon.jpg|75px|The Lurk]]
| width="250" | '''''He watches.''' What does he watch for?''
| [[Image:Trace.jpg|75px|The Face]]
| width="250" | '''''She talks.''' She and Deacon fit well together.''
| [[Image:Petra.jpg|75px|Colleague]]
| width="250" | '''''Curious girl.''' I like her. Might have some common ground in hobbies.''
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Joan]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Gareth]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Liane]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Joan.jpg|75px|Brass and Smoke]]
| width="250" | '''''Interesting taste.''' Will have to see if there's something for her hiding under the dust.''
| [[Image:Gareth.jpg|75px|The Mask]]
| width="250" | '''''Poor lad.''' Sometimes our armor lays heavy upon us.''
| [[Image:Liane.jpg|75px|Adorable]]
| width="250" | '''''One part''' of a much larger whole. I wonder...''
|}

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

Alexandra/Allies

2011-04-06T00:14:48Z

Chaemera:

{| align="center"
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Deacon]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Trace]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Petra]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Deacon.jpg|75px|The Lurk]]
| width="250" | '''''He watches.''' What does he watch for?''
| [[Image:Trace.jpg|75px|The Face]]
| width="250" | '''''She talks.''' She and Deacon fit well together.''
| [[Image:Petra.jpg|75px|Colleague]]
| width="250" | '''''Curious girl.''' I like her. Might have some common ground in hobbies.''
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Joan]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Gareth]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Joan.jpg|75px|Brass and Smoke]]
| width="250" | '''''Interesting taste.''' Will have to see if there's something for her hiding under the dust.''
| [[Image:Gareth.jpg|75px|The Mask]]
| width="250" | '''''Poor lad.''' Sometimes our armor lays heavy upon us.''
|}

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

Alexandra - Important Things/Log

2011-04-01T11:41:00Z

Chaemera: Left that line out on purpose, since they're two paragraphs of the same pose

Gareth stalks into the place, pulling out earbuds which are blasting music, and glancing around the place suspiciously, like the place might have some secret bitey-thing that might come out and nip his toes or fingers. One never knows about places like these, after all. The young college student stops right at the door and scans the area, as if needing to take in the entire store area before stepping further in.

Trying to see the entire store from the doorway is a touch problematic, as there are racks of clothes and shelves of Stuff(tm) taking up a good deal of the floorspace. And mind the Book Section over there. However, one has an easy line of sight to the main counter, and the person behind said, who looks up from going over a checklist of some sort at the dingle of the bell, offering a smile and a wave as Gareth comes in, "Evening. Feel free to look around, and let me know if anything catches your eye."

Jackson comes into the store a short time after Gareth. He looks around with an appraising eye, wondering what exactly the store has for sale, for view, and for him. The old time image of the inner workings of the store is certainly different to a man who lives among data and computers all day long and it shows as he studies it like some foreign land.

Gareth, still, seems intent on scanning everything he can from the doorway before stepping in. We are all interesting individuals with our own quirks, one supposes. He steps easily aside for Jackson, and when called out, scratches behind his head with an uneasy grin. "Ahh, yeah... I'm lookin' for some old timey thing, kind of a going-away present. You got anything interesting a weird girl might like?" He seems to finally be satisfied with his scan of the area, then, and steps in, but as he steps in, he looks around a bit more.

Alexandra quirks an eyebrow at Gareth's description, a wry smile tugging to the side as well, and she waves the pen she was using vaguely, "That depends entirely on what kinds of things she likes." Jackson's entrance is given a greeting wave as well before she sets her pen down on the counter and makes her way out from behind it towards the pair, leaving the dropleaf flipped up behind her, "I've got a lot of odd things in here, after all."

Jackson can't help himself either, a smile curling at his lips, "Try something wierd, kid. Just a thought." He continues to look over something, clocks maybe? Something mechanical please, even if it is old. "Oh, and something that says see you soon."

Gareth raises an eyebrow at Jackson. His tone is pure sarcasm. "Something weird. Wow, thanks, man. Your advice will be enshrined in the ages." The 'see you soon' part has him getting a troubled look. He glances off for a moment, then turns back, back to a kind of dumb look on his face. "You do seem to got a lot of stuff! She's an herbalist, I guess. Oh! You got any old tarot cards, anything like that?"

Jackson will easily find a few shelves covered in clocks of various sorts, from the plain and simply old to the somewhat bizarre including little porcelain figurines dancing about. And a few pocketwatches, some with chains, some without. All seem to be in working order, perhaps surprisingly.

The interplay between the pair makes Alexandra roll her eyes a little, expression all to clearly stating 'boys.' But Gareth's question brings that quirk back to her eyebrow, and a considering look. "I've got some old books about medicinal herbs, or about divination and suchlike. I /might/ have an old tarot deck or two, but I'd have to dig a bit I think. You're welcome to rummage the shelves, certainly."

Jackson raises an eyebrow at Gareth's retort and turns his head, "Herbalist? She mixes leaves and berries for work?" He shakes his head a little, "I suppose it takes all kinds." He picks up a pocketwatch and looks it over, opening it, closing it, examining the face and all. Not yet addressing Alexandra.

If there was prickly sarcasm on Gareth's face a moment before from what Jackson said, he now turns, brightening, like finally someone gets it, finally, another sane person in the universe. "I know!! It drives me nuts. People pay for that stuff!" He shakes his head, baffled, then hmms at Alexandra. "Wow, thanks! I dunno about the books and stuff, I bet she's got that stuff covered. Hmm...cards would be perfect..." He wanders along, looking up at shelves. But it's clear not a lot of the stuff means anything to him.

The woman laughs a bit at the opinions on herbalists, "Hey, medicine's medicine. Most of the pills folks take these days started out as mashed up treebark, remember." She watches the pair for a moment, considering, then shrugs and ducks back behind the counter to start rummaging beneath it, probably looking for those cards she mentioned she might have. However, the pair are not left alone for long, as a rather bushy, rather large cat squints down at Gareth from atop one of the bookshelves. How something with hair all over its face manages to look disdainful is anyone's guess, but the cat manages.

Smirking, Jackson gives Gareth and knowing smile and nod. "Seriously." He glances now at Alexandra, "Just because it started that way, doesn't mean we need to keep it that way. A watch started as a sundial, but I have no desire to wear that thing on my wrist any more than I want to trust chewing a piece of bark is going to make me feel better. Take two sticks and call me in the morning!" He mocks.

Gareth nods to that. "Seriously, trial-and-error as opposed to the scientific process? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's nice. It's like...Colonial Williamsburg or something. You go and look at how all those dudes acted during the Revolutionary war, but it doesn't mean you want to die of the rickets or nothing." He sighs. Spying the grumpy cat, he squints up from the stacks, then all casual like, reaches his right hand so the cat can sniff. Right about that same time, his phone goes off ("99 problems" by Jay-Z, but just a snippet) and he frowns and looks down at it, fiddling with his phone with his left hand to read the text. The kid looks...anxious.

"Entirely your call," is the absently cheerful response to Jackson, the shopkeep not even looking up as she shifts something about behind the counter. "And the scientific process /is/ applied to such things, at least these days. Sure, we can't guage doses by microgram," and she pauses to lift a box onto the counter with a grunt, "but a lot of the remedy-teas you get at the supermarket these days are just mass-produced herbalism." The cat, for his part, spends a moment deciding if he'll deign to acknowledge Gareth, but does stretch to sniff at the boy after a moment. Feel honored.

At the sound of the incoming text, Jackson turns his head and regards the phone for a bit, almost a little too long, like he's curious about the ringtone or something. After a few moments, he looks over to Gareth and Alexandra and smiles, "Well, personally, I say away from those teas too. Give me something I know what is in it. Like whiskey. Or beer."

Gareth snaps his crappy phone shut. He frowns, an anxious, then determined look. He also withdraws his hand from the cat, though seems honored by the sniff. "I gotta get going," he says, casually. To Alexandra, he says, "I guess I don't have time to find a gift after all," he frowns to himself. "It was probably a dumb idea, anyways. Luck with this store! It's..." he glances around. "Interesting. You should totally stop by the Herbal Apothecary down on Lomas a few blocks, meet Katie or Zack. Katie's the tarot card reader. She might dig your store, you might dig hers." He turns to wander out.

"I wondered if you were talking about someone from there," grins Alexandra as Gareth starts to leave. "Dropped by the other night. Nice place. C'mon back if you don't find something in the meantime."

However, this leaves her free to lean her elbow on the box she found and just smile at Jackson, "Do you know what's in those? Alcohol's practically the oldest herbalism in history. The Egyptians had documented recipes for beer. And in the end it's all just fermented vegetation, you know?"

Jackson doesn't move to stop Gareth, nodding though as he moves to take his leave, "Good luck with that gift, kid." Then looking over at Alexandra he smirks, "And like most things, we've refined them over time. For instance, you would be wearing far less clothes and likely be property as a laborer, if we were back in those times. Maybe you'd get lucky enough to be a merchant of some sort."

Gareth glances back, "Thanks," he says. And then he's out the door. Feets don't fail him now!

Alexandra nods, "Or probably dead, at my age. But do you think we haven't refined the 'bark and berries' approach, too?" She waves vaguely over her shoulder towards the back of the shop, "Just because our supplies haven't been distilled down to atomic purity doesn't mean we just throw a handful in a cup and chug it down. Like I said before, medicine's medicine." She glances down at the box she pulled up, shrugs to herself and apparently decides to leave it on the counter. "Why are you looking at analog watches, anyway? Things have been improved, after all. Atomic precision, digital readouts, never have to wind the spring."

Turning the watch over in his hand, weighing it a little, "I like the way it is made. Things produced like this, are made with skill, care, precision, and intelligence. The product of trial and error, perhaps. But ultimately the product of human brilliance and mastery over its elements." He turns his head, to look right at her, "I like skill. Of all sorts."

The woman smiles, apparently without rancor for all their difference of opinions, "Not all skill is mechanical. Certainly, you've got hack herbalists that will hand you a strip of bark and tell you to chew it. Just like you've got fumbly mechanics that think you can fix anything by hitting it hard enough." She turns a hand palm-up and flicks her fingers towards that watch, "I'm not saying our ways are better, as such. But they still take skill, and care, and a bit of brilliance to make work properly. Just like most people."

Jackson laughs lightly, "Oh I never said I limit the definition of skill to simply making things. But you asked why I admired /this/ piece in particular." He turns it over again, looking down at it, "What a piece of work man is. But even more remarkable is how he has taken his environment, and formed it to suit his needs. Anyone can trial and error their way through bark, and seeds. The end result is there largely for the taking. Real skill results in creating something. Making something. Building something new and better."

"True enough, as far as it goes," agrees Alexandra as that cat from earlier jumps down from a shelf onto the countertop with a resounding thud, thence ambling up to the woman and demanding attention. Which he recieves, though she doesn't drop the conversation while scratching his ears, "I don't limit that to physical items, though they're the easiest. Take this place, for instance." Her free hand lifts and gestures around the store, "Old, cast off things that often have no practical use in the modern day. But they were all important to someone at one point, all touched a life and were touched by it. If someone can come along and find something that makes /their/ life better, then we have all created something new. The person that made that thing, the previous owners, even me." She then blinks and looks a little embarassed, "Sorry, got on a bit of a soapbox there."

Jackson laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. No need to apologize. You are passionate about it. Obviously." He flashes a little smiles, "It's kind of cute." He looks down at the watch for a moment then hands it over to her, "How much for it?" He asks the question like someone who really doesn't care what the response is.

Alexandra grins and wrinkles her nose a bit with the expression, "Just a bit. I blame my grandfather." Her expression falls a little as she says it, but she quickly shakes off whatever mood was starting by reaching out to take that watch. Your distraction earns you an affronted look from the cat, however. The woman takes a moment to look the watch over, checking the clasp, that kind of thing, then nods, "I'll let it go for thirty, tax included."

Glancing at the cat, Jackson gives it a little grin suggesting 'bring it on kitty' and then reaches for a billfold, producing some rather large bills, one of which is handed to Alexandra in exchange for the watch. "Thirty seems fair, but keep the change." The bill is a 50, "I liked it well enough, and you too."

The overpayment brings a blink of surprise and a grin, "Well, thanks." A moment is taken to work the cash register, but the motions are familiar and don't take long, "Do you want a bag or recipet for that?" The cat apparently decides he can best contribute to this conversation by starting to wash himself, a front-paw working at one of his ears industriously.

Reaching down, Jackson decides to pet the cat for a moment, stroking his back as it licks and cleans those front paws. "Nah, I'll just take it like this. Thanks. " He puts the watch into his pocket and asks aloud, "So what else you are passionate about, Ms?" Yeah, direct isn't he?

The cat takes a moment to peer up at Jackson, but apparently decides to allow this indignity and goes back to his washing. Alexandra, for her part, grins at her pet before shrugging, "If I had to generalize, I'd say learning. I know enough to realize there's a lot more that I don't." Her grin turns a little wry, "It's why I started in on you, really. Anyone that says something isn't worthwhile, to my mind, just hasn't bothered to learn about it."

Laughing lightly, Jackson continues to stroke the back of Machiavelli, while keeping his attention on the cat's owner. Or property, depending on which you ask. "So you think I haven't bothered to learn then? You think you are going to teach me?" His voice has a playful tone, teasing, and challenging.

Alexandra shrugs, "In that particular area, it certainly seemed so. And if nothing else, you were denigrating other peoples' hobbies, activities that they put effort towards and derive enjoyment from. Which give them an opportunity for growth." Her smile turns a bit wry, "If nothing else, I wanted to point out what you were doing. Even this business is just something of a hobby of mine, after all."

Nodding his head, Jackson still wears a slight smile, "Well then I think I probably gave a poor impression. Miss?" He doesn't wait for her name though, and continues, "Maybe you will let me make it up to you? And I'd love to learn a little more. I'm sure you have a lot to teach." Yes, there is that playful tone again, teasing and light, and more than a little coy.

An eyebrow quirks, and Alexandra's expression is certainly amused by this point. "Rosencrans," she replies at first, giving her name before folding her arms and resting a hip against the edge of the counter. "What did you have in mind?" Machiavelli has apparently tired of your human conversation and wanders off at this point, stretching out as only cats can before hopping to the floor and wandering off into the shelves again.

Jackson makes his way over to the counter and leans against it, "I thought dinner might be nice. Ms. Rosencrans. I've heard people have to eat these days. We haven't been quite able to work around that flaw just yet. And if you care, I'm Jackson." Yup, his first name. Keep it casual, right?

"Well, I appreciate the offer. And I'll think about it." Her smile isn't condescending or snarky or anything, but she stays behind the counter all the same, "I've got too much to work on at the moment to be accepting random invitations to dinner, I'm afraid. New to the store, new to the city." She lowers a hand to touch that checklist she was working on earlier, picking the pen back up, "No rest for the wicked."

Shrugging, Jackson pulls out a card from another pocket and slides it on the counter, "If you change your mind, or find yourself un-busy, feel free to give me a call." He pats at the pocket with his watch and smiles, "And thanks." He doesn't seem bothered in the slightest by the rejection, just pushing himself away from the counter and beginning to walk towards the door.

Alexandra nods and picks up that card, "Like I said, I'll think about it. Thanks for dropping by." Then she laughs a little, waving as you head for the door, "Have a nice day."
[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - Important Things

2011-04-01T00:40:47Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}09/20/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}03/31/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Gareth]]
* [[Jackson]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - Important Things/Log

2011-04-01T00:38:49Z

Chaemera: Created page with 'Gareth stalks into the place, pulling out earbuds which are blasting music, and glancing around the place suspiciously, like the place might have some secret bitey-thing that mig…'

Alexandra - Important Things/Setting

2011-04-01T00:30:58Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - Important Things

2011-04-01T00:29:31Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{subst:Log}}'

Alexandra/Allies

2011-03-31T16:25:25Z

Chaemera:

{| align="center"
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Deacon]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Trace]]</center>
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Petra]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Deacon.jpg|75px|The Lurk]]
| width="250" | '''''He watches.''' What does he watch for?''
| [[Image:Trace.jpg|75px|The Face]]
| width="250" | '''''She talks.''' She and Deacon fit well together.''
| [[Image:Petra.jpg|75px|Colleague]]
| width="250" | '''''Curious girl.''' I like her. Might have some common ground in hobbies.''
|-
! colspan="2" | <Center>[[Joan]]</center>
|-
| [[Image:Joan.jpg|75px|Brass and Smoke]]
| width="250" | '''''Interesting taste.''' Will have to see if there's something for her hiding under the dust.''
|}

[[Category:Character Subpages]]

Alexandra - New Business!/Log

2011-03-30T23:27:17Z

Chaemera: Created page with '"I h-h-hadn't thought of that." Liane says, looking a bit bemused. "I w-w-wonder why I h-hadn't." There's a look over at Danny, who just stares back. Liane, wise to the whims of …'

"I h-h-hadn't thought of that." Liane says, looking a bit bemused. "I w-w-wonder why I h-hadn't." There's a look over at Danny, who just stares back. Liane, wise to the whims of her people, sighs and says, "P-perhaps M-m-muffin will."

Joan blinks at Liane's last few words. "Muffin?" she asks, puzzled. She remains standing leaned against the wall for now, her gaze starting to wander the store. "I really should have come here sooner," she muses to herself. "I don't know where to start... I'm starting to think I should have brought a van!" Yes, she does tend to go on the occasional shopping spree.

Piotr is browsing through the store.. his eye searching for that rare gem that mysterious curio peice that lurks in all antique shops.. in search of something with a story.

It's about at this point that the current proprietor makes her appearance from where she was Doing Things In The Back, like must always happen in stores. However she pauses as the Staff Only door closes, perhaps surprised at the sound of voices. Was she that wrapped up that she didn't hear the door-bell? Oh well, no help for it. "Oh, hello! Can I help you find anything?" Alexandra calls cheerfully towards the pair she can see chatting near one wall.

"Oh, M-muffin is a n-nickname for one of m-my t-t-tribesmen. H-he has a f-fondness for doing little tasks. Q-quite helpful to have around the h-house, actually -- c-can't sit still. Inv-v-vite him over and he will c-c-clean your h-house without even r-realizing it." Another small twitch of her lips, but then there's someone approaching, and Liane sort of...shrinks a touch. Nothing blatantly obvious, just a sort of...quieting. Fading, even. "J-j-just l-l-looking." She murmurs to the ground. "H-have you s-s-spindles?"

Joan's gaze shifts over towards Alexandra when she comes into view, offering her a nod of her head. "Personally I was looking for Victorian-era furniture, mostly," she replies. "If you happen to have anything of the sort... chairs, tables, things of that nature." She hasn't had much time to look around yet, after all.

Piotr browse through the wares but doesn't really seem satisfied with anything he sees.. He heads toward the counter to see if any wonders lurk beneath not so dusty glass.

Alexandra blinks a little at Liane's reaction, but takes it in stride, not approaching too close and offering the pair of women a smile, "Spindles? Do you mean for wheels, or dropspindles?" Joan's query is less easily answered, drawing a thoughtful frown, "Victorian? I'm not sure if I have anything /that/ old at the moment." A mildly sheepish smile, "Most of what you'll find here is probably Edwardian at oldest, but you're certainly welcome to poke around. Let me know if anything catches your fancy." At which point she spots Piotr near the counter, and doubletakes. Not often you see someone in that kind of getup.

"Uh..." Eh, a customer's a customer. "Can I help you find something, sir?" There's not much on the counter itself, which looks like some old bartop instead of the more modern glass-display versions you see around. But there's stuff behind it, mostly packaged or probably in need of repair.

"D-d-drops-s-spindles. A t-t-top s-s-spindle w-would be b-best." Liane says, still a little quiet, a little cautious. Alas, for shy characters! She doesn't make herself obtrusively needy, however - simply sort of stays near the dress she was looking at, the very lovely dress with torn embroidery stitches.

Piotr smiles over at Alexandra and says "Iz ok I can wait.. help ladies first pleaze.. Am in no hurry.." his rich voice deeply accented with his native Russian.

Joan gives Alexandra a kind of 'that's okay' smile, clearly not terribly surprised. "It's not exactly IKEA-level common, so that's fine. I'll see what I can find." She starts to wander a bit, poking about here and there, though she doesn't actually touch anything. After a little while, she starts to hum to herself as she goes along; she's clearly in a pleasant mood at the moment.

Alexandra nods to Joan, "We've only just opened back up, so I might be able to get some things in, depending on my sources." Piotr's dismissal is met with a nod and a smile, which then leaves Liane in probably the last place she wanted to me: the main focus of the shopkeeper's attention. "I'm sure we've got a few. Was there a particular size you were wanting?" The girl's attention to the dress is noted but not remarked upon. Poor thing's already stammering and trying to hide in her own shadow.

"S-s-something f-f-fairly l-l-lightw-w-weight." Liane murmurs to the ground, fingers lacing and unlacing against one another. It should be noted that Liane actually has an embroidery hoop peeking from out of her bag, with little colorful thread floating out. "P-p-portable, s-small. F-f-for when I've a f-f-free moment at w-w-work."

Joan's purse starts to buzz, and moments later one can hear God Save the Queen (the English national anthem, not the Sex Pistols song) coming from in there. She pulls her cellphone out; said phone is encased in brass, with clockwork bits, steam pressure meters and the like along the sides. Apparently it was just a text message, though. "Oh... oh dear," she murmurs, arching a brow at whatever's on the screen.

Alexandra nods again to Liane, "I'm pretty sure there's at least one that can fit in a purse, good for a small spool or so." She turns a little, pointing towards a basket kind of tucked out of the way near some old-style, floorstand size embroidery hoops, currently empty, "Why don't you go have a rummage, see if you find one you like?"

Joan's wander through the store would easily show her that, while many of the items here are old, almost all have been very carefully restored to at least usable condition. Certainly, nothing looks /new/, but only a few of the items look in danger of being damaged by handling, and most of those are behind the counter.

Leaving Liane to get herself collected for a moment, the shopowner turns back to Piotr, "Have you found anything that caught your interest, sir? Most of the stock here is from when Miss Harkness was still in business, I'm still finding things myself."

Piotr peers at the array of broken and packed away things behind the counter his finger tracing smooth circles over the old mahogany his gaze still drinking the place in, He decides to wander into the book section while he waits. Piotr looks over startled as Alexandra catchs his attention.. His expression catching up a moment latter though it seemed to say 'but books?' and then splits into a grin and says "Da, have you been finding something.. interesting? something.. special?" his thick Russian accent a pleasant purr.

Liane gives a quick nod of her head and wanders over to poke through the basket. Unlike Joan, Liane freely picks things up and prods them, though in safely gloved fingers - yes, Liane is wearing gloves. Is she ever not? Two or three catch her fancy, including a large drop spindle and a Turkish spindle -- apparently Liane is one of those people who, like her player, can never just buy what they came in for.

Joan taps away at her phone, composing and then sending off a reply message. "If you'll excuse me, I need to head home and fire my babysitter," she notes with a hint of a frown. "Possibly out of a cannon. Apparently she invited her boyfriend and got into my liquor cabinet..." She shakes her head in disapproval. "Miss Wiggins, it was good seeing you again," she adds to Liane, then pulls a card with her number on it out of her purse and slips it to Alexandra. "If you do come across any Victorian era furniture, would you let me know?"

"Miz." Liane corrects absently, still prodding through the things. Doesn't even look up!

About to reply to Piotr, Alexandra is distracted by Joan's little difficulty, and frowns in concern, "Oh dear." The card is accepted readily enough, and a nod is offered, "Certainly. And do feel free to drop by anytime." She grins, "Sometimes new old things turn up."

At which point she turns back to figuring out how to answer Piotr, "Well... everything here, sir." She waves the hand holding Joan's card to indicate the store as a whole, "Everything here was once important to somebody, special to somebody. I'm simply keeping them until somebody else finds them to be as special for them."

Piotr studies Alexandra for a long while before smiling suddenly and says something in Russian and then "You realy do believe this?" there is pleasant surprise in his voice.

Liane is pretty uncreative. So much like Joan, she gets a little jingle on her own cell phone, pulling it out with a frown, one hand still holding three or four spindles. And an embroidery hoop she's pulled down! "B-b-bother." She mutters, then waves Danny over. Danny, by the way, is the tall, silent native American woman who was standing outside the door the entire time, acting like a statue, or furniture. Not the friendliest and most open of souls, but when Liane beckons, Danny straightens and walks over. Everything is dropped into Danny's arms along with a credit card, a quick murmur is exchanged, and Liane moves towards the door, fingers dialing a number.

Alexandra nods firmly to Piotr's question, "I do. Everything here has touched someone's life, and been touched by it. I don't attempt to interpret that meaning myself, because everyone will take something different with them." She waves vaguely towards the book section, "Even two people reading the same book can take entirely different messages from it. The same goes for everything else here, I think."

The phonecall by the sewing supplies catches her attention, though, perhaps pre-empting a minor rant, and she gives the man an apologetic smile as she moves to duck back behind the counter, "Excuse me a moment, sir. Please, feel free to look about." She'll just ring up miss tall dark and frowny here.

Piotr reaches into the zen bag balanced on his hip and pulls something wrapped in alpaca fur and tied off with a leather chord beaded with hand carved beads of some sort of nut.. and lays it on the counter.

Danny, by the way, does not frown. That would imply some emotion besides bland apathy or stony irritation! Or disdain. Danny's good at disdain

Piotr has left something on the counter and is heading out.

The sale is made relatively quickly, even with the antique-looking cash register. Which may not be as antique as it looks, considering that it apparently has a credit-card reader hidden inside it, Liane's card being slid through a slot on the frame calm as you please, a reciept printing out, and the whole works being tucked into a paper(!) bag with carry-handles.

Only once all that's done does Alexandra turn to peer quizzically at Piotr's little bundle, turning a mildly confused look at Piotr's retreating back. "Uhm, goodbye!"

Man, this town certainly isn't boring...

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - New Business!

2011-03-30T23:18:43Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}09/19/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}03/30/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|

* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Joan]]
* [[Liane]]
* [[Piotr]]

|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}

[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - New Business!/Setting

2011-03-30T23:08:05Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Old Friends Antique Dealership/Description}}'

Alexandra - New Business!

2011-03-30T23:06:24Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{subst:Log}}'

Alexandra - Starting Early

2011-03-30T21:35:53Z

Chaemera: Alphabetizing people, don't judge my OCD!

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}09/11/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}03/25/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|

* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Deacon]]
* [[Trace]]

|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}

[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - Starting Early/Log

2011-03-30T21:34:59Z

Chaemera: Spacing things out for ease of reading

It's night (not morning). Fairy late on, probably approaching midnight and the park is more or less deserted. There are two people here at the moment, over by the children's play area in a clear patch of grass. One is male, the other female. Trace (the more female of the pair) has a frisbee and she's talking as she demonstrated with it. "...and it's like the skimming stones, you have to throw it flat..."

Deacon, the taller, maler of the pair stands with his arms down at his sides watching Trace. His head is turned over on it's side as she demonstrates with a few unreleased tosses of the frisbee. There's a mimicing of the gesture by the taller of the two, a small grin on his weathered face, "Okay, so.. just like the stones." The leather jacket he's wearing is slid off and tossed down onto the grass, leaving him in just the clean white tee-shirt and jeans. "Let us give this a shot."

And into this moment of relative quite wanders someone who probably doesn't know any better. With a faux-leather jacket added to her usual ensemble, Alexandra seems to just be out for a bit of a late-night wander, hands in her pockets as she follows the paths through the park. Though she does pause as she hears voices, looking around for the source... and grinning when she sees the frisbee. Without just wandering right up and intruding, she finds a nearby bench to prop her hip against and watch for a moment.

"Okay," Trace says, with a grin. "So you bring it back, like so..." She turns her wrist, "And then..." She flicks her hand out, sending the plastic disc spinning through the air towards Deacon.

Deacon brings his hand up instinctively to catch the whirling plastic disc, snatching it out of the air. It's reversed and sent back, sailing smoothly through the air towards Trace. While he's not likely in league for the Olympic Frisbee games... it's pretty good for a first timer! Push ups, that's the only explanation. "Huh.. it is like throwing skipping stones."

After the first back-and-forth is completed without incident, Alexandra stands away from the bench she was leaning against and heads over at a leisurely stroll, keeping an eye out for any stray frisbees along the way. But again, she seems content to watch, though this time making sure to stand where the pair can see her, even raising a hand in a casual wave if one looks her way. Not like she's trying to gesture them over, just saying hi.

Trace snatches the frisbee out of the air, smoothly. The pair of them must be in pretty good condition, they both seem to have great hand-eye co-ordination. She grins, "That's it! You're a natural." The wave from the new arrival catches her attention and she looks over. "Hey there," says the small woman, with a wave of her hand.

Deacon looks onto Trace with a strength of affection in his thin frame. Until there's a wave and he's all corded tension rising up his spine. No narrowing of his eyes and nothing really 'obvious', just that shift in demeanor. A cool sort of expression settling in where a bright smile previously rested, and his eyes are a little harder than would strictly be necessary. One long fingered hand comes up to give the approaching woman a wave, as he's stepping over towards the other of the frisbee throwing pair. He stops only long enough to grab his hoodie and then tosses it back on the grass once he's closer to the smaller of the two of them.

Alexandra smiles at the greeting from Trace, though when she speaks it's mostly to Deacon, more a thing of where she's looking and posture than anything else. "Evening. I didn't mean to interrupt, was just out for a walk and spotted you." She gestures vaguely at the frisbee, "I haven't played with one of those since I was little. You're pretty good with it."

"Yeah... My Dad taught me when I was little," Trace says. She moves close to her companion for a moment, reaching out and lightly running her hand down his arm. She gives Alexandra a searching look, eyes focusing just above her head, before they return to her eyes. She lifts a hand and scratches just behind her ear. "I'm Trace and this is my husband, Deacon."

Deacon also searches over Alexandra as she approaches them, but it's with slightly narrowed eyes. Not harsh, not intrusive, just inspective. Like a person who knows where to look for particular indications about a person, sizing them up. Almost predatory, but only slightly so. When Trace touches his arm, he turns down to look at her, and there's that bright look again. An awakening in his eyes that is complete, for only a couple seconds. Then he nods and looks back to the woman. "Heh-low." His accent is very thick, Germanic and Russian all blended together.. and quiet, soft spoken.

Alexandra's smile pulls a little wider at the introduction, and she offers a hand out to shake, letting the pair decide who's going to step forward and take it, "Good to meet you both. My name's Alexandra." She doesn't move like some dangerous urban predator or anything, not even really appearing all that athletic. Just your average maybe-30 American female. "I've been running about getting things set up at the store, thought I'd take some time for a walk, clear my head."

Trace is the one to step forward first (and not just because she poses before he does!) and she takes Alexandra's hand. The handshake is brief and friendly, hand cool and dry. "Nice to meet you," she says. "Store?" A glance at Deacon and then back to the woman. "Do you have a store?"

Deacon does step forward, but that extended hand is given a critical eye before he ever slides his into it. Nothing said from the tall stubble jawed fellow beside Trace. Once he's joined the handshake, with his equally dry and cold hand, it's slide across the small of the small woman beside him's back, turning to look at her almost precisely when she looks up, then together at Alexandra when the question is posed.

Alexandra's handshake is like the rest of her: normal and without frills, though warmer than the pair she's greeting apparently. Probably due to keeping her hands in her pockets up to now. "Yes, I just recently took over the Old Friends Antique Dealership." A thought seems to strike her then, and she rummages in a pocket before coming up with a business card, which she offers, "It's been closed recently, transition in management. But feel free to drop by! We don't have things like crown jewels, but you never know, might find something nice."

Trace takes the business card and looks at it, then holds it out to the side of her. "We own a store too," she says. "A pawn shop, over on Central. Lost and Found. It's no antique shop but we get some interesting things coming in... you might want to take a look sometime, if you're interested."

"Da, perhaps will find something there you are having been looking for." Deacon states, accepting one of the business cards offered out to them. It's held between both hands and looked over, then slid into the back pocket of his jeans, returning to his 'apparently' usual quiet, hand again laying against the small of Trace's back. Dark eyes look all around them, back over his shoulder, to either side of where they're standing. Always with as little motion as possible, he stares in any direction he turns for an unnecessary length of time.

The business card's fairly simply, all told, having the name of the business, an address and a phone number, with hours listed on the back. About the only thing of note is a colorful flower design in one corner on the front, apparently in an attempt to make the whole works less boring. "A pawn shop? I might drop by sometime, yeah." Her grin breaks back out, "We're almost on the same spectrum. Buying and selling things people don't want anymore." A glance is turned to Deacon, then the blond takes a look around as well, perhaps thinking him nervous or wary of something. Beasties in the night?

"Kinda, yep," Trace agrees, nodding her head. "Ours tend to be less fussy rich people and more desperate junkies, though. But you'd be amazed what some of them had hanging around their houses."

"Da. Junkies are having link to all manner of strangenesses." Deacon states with a nod, attention shifting back to Alexandra. Most would discribe him as a difficult person to read. Like a statue, but alive. Alive in the sense that he's moving, anyways. "You are, perhaps, appraiser? Or know one?"

Alexandra grimaces at the description of clientele, dropping her eyes along with her smile. Her voice is more subdued when she resumes speaking, but she doesn't seem in any great hurry to go running off, "I'm not the sort of antiquarian you see on TV, really. No million-dollar paintings or whatnot. Just old things, interesting things." Deacon's question brings a little of her smile back, a quirk at one corner of her mouth, "I'm a passable appraiser. And if something's out of my league, I've got a few people I can talk to for help. Kind of comes with the business."

"We just took over our business recently... there are a few things we've been keeping in the back. Thought they might be worth something.. maybe you could come and take a look?" Trace slides her hands into the pockets of her jeans, looking up at Alexandra with an interested expression.

Deacon nods with Trace's statement, going back to his earlier quiet as the question is posed. With a bend, he takes up his hoodie and slides it over his shoulders and tugs up the zipper. Once it's back in place, both hands go into the big front pocket of the garment, but his attention remains interestedly on Alexandra.

Alexandra's eyebrows perk up at Trace's offer, interest showing without reservation, "Well, I can certainly see what you've got, if nothing else. Certainly could give you a ballpark figure of some sort." A hand lifts to scratch at her cheek with a fingertip, a thinking gesture that she hardly seems aware of, "Might need to do a little research to get you anything closer than a rough estimate, though, depending."

"Well, it'd be more than we have now," Trace says, flashing a grin. She dangles the frisbee from her hand, letting it rock backwards and forwards with a loose grip.

Deacon seems content in the quiet, seems comfortable as the unmoving object beside Trace. Periodically, he'll look off into the park, but as the conversation continues, it's like his conscious mind is circling a drain. Coming closer to where the three of them are standing, until it might appear as if he's finally showed up. "Also would pay for your time."

Alexandra grins at Deacon's little addition, "Well, that's a nice bit of incentive." A glance is taken at her watch, then "But probably not tonight, I'm out rather late as it is." An inquisitive look is aimed to the pair as a unit, "Should I come by at some point, have a look? Or you could drop by my shop with the items, might be simpler, as I'd have some references on hand."

"Sure... come by tomorrow evening?" Trace asks. "We tend to do our shifts at night, so the employees don't have to deal with the worst of the customers."

Deacon's hand slips from his pocket and slides around Trace's shoulders, "Or we can come by tomorrow evening. Are you open late? For obvious reasons we are keeping late nights.. Circadian rhythm being what it is, da?" No smile, just his cool expression. Always the same, never changing.

Alexandra shifts a bit nervously, glancing around a bit as though worried the 'worst of the customers' might show up even here. Deacon's suggestion has her brightening right back up, though, "I can certainly stay on-site later than usual, if you'd like to bring something by. I can largely set my own hours." Then that nervousness comes back, and a bit of embarrassment, "I'm... not entirely sure I'd be comfortable out your way at that hour, given what you've said about your customers." Eep.

"Well, we could always come and get you and then take you back," Trace offers. "If you wanted. You'd be safe with one of us." She produces a pencil out of her pocket and scrawls a number on the back of the business card, then hands it to Alexandra. "That's my cell."

Deacon agrees with a nod to what Trace says, "Da, nobody would mess with you if one of us is with you. We would stop buying their goods.. and nobody likes that, right?" Of course it's all business. Isn't it always? Certainly neither of them looks very physically intimidating or impressive. "Either way, give Tracey a call and I am usually with her. So should not be difficult to find us."

Alexandra accepts the card back with a nod, "I'll think about it, certainly. Likewise, feel free to drop me a line, the shop's in the directory." Another glance at her watch, and then the woman turns a little away, "Sadly, I really should get going. It was nice meeting you!"

"You too," Trace says with a smile. "Hope you have a good evening!"

Alexandra - Hobbies and History/Log

2011-03-30T16:35:12Z

Chaemera: Created page with 'It's a mostly quiet night in the shop, with only a few scattered patrons here and there. Petra's just stepping away from a lovey dovey couple picking out crystals and is headed f…'

It's a mostly quiet night in the shop, with only a few scattered patrons here and there. Petra's just stepping away from a lovey dovey couple picking out crystals and is headed for the counter. There's a set of windchimes over the door, and she greets people when they arrive, but for the most part she's on her own.

Well, this certainly looks like an interesting place! The door swings open with a tinkle of those chimes, and Alexandra pauses for a moment a little inside, looking around and taking a deep breath, obviously taking in the overall smell of the place. Apparently she approves, because she steps further in with a smile, in full-on 'poking about' mode.

When those chimes go a-tinkling, Petra looks up from the counter and greets Alexandra politely, "Welcome to the shop. If you need anything, just let me know." Her greeting tasks completed, she starts idly fiddling with the cash register, not really doing anything of import. Slow night.

The newcomer lifts a hand to acknowledge Petra's greeting, giving her a smile as well. Someone's in a good mood, it seems, but also seems to just be looking about for the moment. After an initial circuit, though, Alexandra heads straight for the herb-rack, peering at labels. "Winter's coming in, thought I'd stock back up in case colds start happening," she remarks offhandedly to Petra, followed by a 'thinking out loud' murmur of "chamomile, rosehips..."

There's no interruptions from Petra while Alexandra completes her shopping, though she looks up again as she's spoken to. With a bright smile, she says, "Yeah, those're good for that. Sounds like you know your herbs, alright. We've got a good selection, there." She pauses, then asks to the store in general, "Anyone interested in some tea? I'm about to make a pot. Free, o'course. Easy way to sample our selection."

Alexandra perks up at the offer of tea, "Sure, I could go for a cup." She leaves the herb-rack for a bit to peer over the counter curiously, "What're you brewing?"

"I hadn't decided yet," Petra admits. "Was thinking some sort of earthy blend, but I could go for pretty much whatever. Any requests?" A few other patrons also express their interest in a cup, so she walks over to the tea counter, filling up the electric kettle and plugging it in.

Alexandra considers a moment, seeing if anyone else has opinions on the matter probably. "Probably not a black at this hour, be up all night." Then she grins and just leans on the counter, "I'll defer to your judgement and we'll see, I think."

"Now your future is in my hands, moohahaha," Petra says, waggling her fingers, before turning back to the tea counter. "Yeah, I'll see what I can dream up. I'm sort of in the mood for a cranberry blend, I think." She starts fetching tea leaves and other bits, putting them into a tea strainer and lowering them into the kettle. "So are you new around town, or have I just not met you yet?"

"Both, actually. I just landed a week or so ago," Alexandra chuckles, then looks like an idea struck her and straightens to rummage in a pocket. "Actually, just took over an antique dealership out by the north end of campus," and she comes up with a business card which she waves in illustration.

"Heeey, antique shop? That sounds pretty sweet. Could I get that card from you? In fact, if you give me some extras, I'll be happy to throw business your way. And welcome to Quirky Albuquerque!" Petra brightens considerably, reaching into her pocket to retrieve a business card. "Speaking of business cards, lemme get you one for the best cabbie in town. I always try to shoot business his way cuz he never overcharges. Name's Jai." She passes over a business card with the name Jai Malekar and a number for dispatch.

Alexandra laughs at the response she gets, happily exchanging cards, "I've only got a couple on me, but I can drop by later with a stack if that's alright." She then looks a little rueful, though still grinning, "I just hope we don't get a business conflict going. I do the home-remedy thing, too. Used to sell things like cold remedies and such back home in Massachusetts."

"I doubt we'll have a business conflict. The owners are pretty reasonable people." Petra pauses, then turns back to the tea, which has by now gotten hot enough, and begins pouring cups for others and herself. "What do ya'll take in it?" she asks all and sundry, and begins adding fixings like honey and sugar to people's teas as they request.

"Just some honey for mine, thanks." When she's handed her cup, Alexandra just holds it at first, breathing in the steam for a moment before cradling the cup in her hands, "If nothing else, I'll probably be getting my supplies from here anyway. And I'll send folks your way too." She turns to eye the racks of new-age stuff and leather, "You probably make a killing with the college crowd."

"Yeah, there's no reason for us to have an acrimonious business relationship. Seems like we each have our own markets, and we can work well together. You send people to us, we send people to you, that whole thing. It could be a benefit. 'Course, you probably want to chat up the owners, Zack and Katie. I'm sure they'll be happy to arrange things with you, maybe let you buy in bulk or something, I dunno." Petra shrugs, admitting, "I just work here, not really somebody who makes the big decisions." The final comment makes her smile and say vaguely, "We do pretty well, yeah."

Alexandra nods at the idea of talking to the owners, blowing on her tea a moment before sipping, giving herself some time to think. "I own the shop," and she grins, "it's been around for a while though, you might've heard of it. The Old Friends Antique Dealership, out on Lomas."

"I haven't heard of it, but that don't mean much. I've not been in the area all that long m'self. I'll betcha that Jai fella's heard of it, but I haven't." Petra shrugs, and now that all the tea cups have been handed out, that just leaves hers, which she does not doctor, and blows over to cool it. "So what brought you to the area?"

Alexandra shrugs, looking down into her tea as she answers, "A few things, really. Friend of a friend was the owner of the shop before she passed on, and I wasn't doing anything useful back home. Figured I'd give it a try, if nothing else. How about you?"

"Mm," Petra says, nodding and looking over at the other woman. "Seems as good a reason as any. I came here for UNM. Wanted a place that's, y'know, far away from home, but not so far's to be obvious, if ya catch my drift." She smiles faintly. "It's been good for me. Life is a little crazy here, but mostly in good ways."

Alexandra smiles a bit at that reason, though the expression's almost sad for a moment, "Getting away from the folks, hm?" Taking a moment for another drink of tea, she lets her eyes wander the store before coming back to Petra, "A little craziness keeps things interesting."

"Yep, pretty much," Petra confirms with a smirk. "Seems to have done the trick, y'know? What about you-- you still in touch with your folks?" She takes a careful sip of her tea, then nods to that final statement. "Yeah, I prefer things crazy to boring, most def. I mean, if ya gotta pick, yeah?"

Alexandra can't help it, she looks away when her family's mentioned, though she keeps her reaction to that, and a slight pause before she speaks again, "No, sadly." She seems about to leave it at that, then sighs and sets her teacup on the counter, "There was an... accident, about a year ago. Lost my parents and grandfather."

Petra purses her lips, frowning, and murmurs, "I'm sorry to hear that. And I'm sorry I brought it up. Sometimes my mouth and my curiousity get in the way of my brains and my common human decency." She smiles, if faintly, and then extends a hand. "Seems like if I'm going to go putting my foot in my mouth, you should at least know whose name to curse. I'm Petra. Nicetameetcha."

Alexandra offers a smile that isn't quite a grimace, but takes that offered hand easily enough, "Don't worry about it, you couldn't have known. I'm Alexandra." She sighs, "And there's just some things you never expect to hear, y'know? How often do you have to worry about someone's parents being abruptly dead, I mean?" Gallows humor, perhaps, but the attempt is there to lighten the mood.

"Eh, you know. It happens more often than you think, especially if people come from areas that're not so safe. Not that I know where you're from, but still." Petra shakes Alexandra's hand firmly, then gives it a friendly squeeze before letting go.

Alexandra nods, letting her hand settle to the countertop next to her teacup, "I suppose so. We'd never really had to worry about that kind of thing. Just goes to show, I guess." Then she shakes her head a little as though trying to physically throw off the bout of melancholy, "Grandpa wouldn't want me moping over it, though. I try to hold to that."

"Yeah, it's-- things happen, sometimes. And even if you know they're gonna happen sometime, you're never quite prepared. But less so if you didn't even see it comin'." Petra smiles just slightly then, taking a sip of her tea. "And yeah, I'm sure he wouldn't wantcha sad. That don't mean you're not allowed to be sad sometimes, though."

Alexandra nods again, "I try not to let it drag me down, but some things shouldn't be forgotten." She's leaning against the counter chatting with Petra, a mostly-empty teacup sitting nearby, while the other woman still has hers in-hand. "Part of why I came here. Get some perspective, I guess."

The shop is pretty quiet tonight; mostly just Alexandra, Petra, and a few other patrons, some of whom have tea. Petra has barely touched her tea, apparently far more interested in the conversation. There are chimes over the door, and she does look up and greet people as they arrive. "Gone but not forgotten, as the saying goes, yeah. And perspective's good. You ever try, like, meditation?"

The huge man steps through the door as he's touching his palm and speaking into the earbud mic/speaker tucked into his left ear, the coiled piece running down behind his neck and ostensibly to the radio at his hip under his massive red jersey. "Dispatch, Victor Delta Two." a pause, "Dispatch, register Victor Delta Two ten-sixty two." he says as he comes through the door, offering a smile as he pushes the door open more and steps into the place. He does the normal cop/ex military scan of the place, registering all exits and doorways and personnel before he begins to make his way towards the counter. For such a huge guy, he doesn't stomp or walk loudly.

Alexandra nods to Petra, "Some, yeah. Oh, not like the new-age stuff, but close enough, I suppose." She glances over absently as the door chimes sound, then doubletakes at the guy coming in, blinking a bit. She doesn't actually say anything, but you can practically hear the 'whoa, what.' Sorry Petra, she's distracted now.

Well, to be fair, he *is* pretty distracting. Petra apparently will just have to make do. She replies to Alexandra, "Yeah, I haven't done much of it myself, but I hear it rocks or something," before turning toward Gustavo. "Welcome to the shop. If you need anything, please let me know. And I just made some tea not that long ago, should still be hot if you're interested. We provide it to guests of the shop, free of charge."

"Thank you ma'am," Gustavo says politely to Petra, and a nod to Alexandra, "Ma'am," he adds. "I was told by a work buddy to come by here." He seems a bit out of his element. He points to his left bicep, thick specimen it is. "Yesterday a dealer hit me with a malt liqour bottle, and it broke and he cut me with it. I need it to heal fast, so I can make my accelerated free call instructor certification course in a few weeks." he offers. "Could you .. can you .. do you have anything for that?"

Alexandra blinks another few times, then shakes out of it and returns the officer's nod with one of her own and a somewhat bemused smile. "Well," and she grins to Petra, "this is new. You go ahead, I'll go and actually figure out what I need from your rack over there instead of chattering on." So saying, she stands away from the counter and moves back to the herb-rack on the wall that originally drew her attention before tea was offered.

"Ooh. Yeah, that looks a bit painful. We've got a lot of herbs for that sort of thing, but I think you're probably going to want a specific mix, heavily featuring in prunella vulgaris and veronica offinalis." Petra seems to know what the heck she's talking about, and hopefully those herbs which I just totally looked up are the right ones, because *I* do not! "Speedwell and heal-all. It's right in the names, y'know?" She wanders over to the herb rack after Alexandra, plucking up several herbs.

"Alright. That sounds good. I know this may seem dumb but .. I won't pee dirty - no offense ma'am - from any of this stuff, right?" he asks. "I have to be careful with my supplements, I don't need IAD all in my business," he adds. He leans against the counter, peering at the counter. "Does it taste bad?" is his next question. "Or is it too much to hope there's an orange flavor?" he asks with a grin.

Alexandra, for her part, seems to only be paying attention to the goings-on with half an ear at best, though she smirks a little at Gustavo's questions, looking amused. Instead, she tugs a smartphone out of her pocket and appears to be taking notes on what jars and suchlike are available. And yes, she has to stick her tongue out a bit to type properly on the thing, stupid tiny screen-keyboard.

"Nah, that's not a stupid question. It's good to know that kind of stuff going in," Petra says with a smile for Gustavo. "No, you won't pee dirty, and it probably tastes *terrible.* Thankfully, you don't have to eat it-- it's applied directly to the wound, in a paste I'll mix up for you." Once she's finished gathering up a nice broad range of herbs, she makes her way over to the counter, getting out a mortar and pestle. She starts grinding up the herbs, asking the officer, "So didja get your perp?"

"I did. Skinny dude, five five, maybe a buck thirty if he's a pound. Normally he's a quite little Rasta guy, but I think he was sniffing some of his angel dust and mixing it with crank - methamphetamine. So he was wired six ways to Sunday. Tried to run, as I hit him he hit me with the damn bottle, then he dropped it when he hit the ground and he cut me with the bottle. He'll be asking to see me when he sobers up, apologetic." the huge cop says with a grin. "But yeah, got him. Backpack fulla drugs, selling to the tourists and college kids at the park. Has a habit of mixing laxative with his X and his coke products. Fancies himself a white Rasta rebel. Thank you. I appreciate this. I miss this jump test, next one isn't for two months."

Alexandra glances over at some of what she's overhearing, then shakes her head with a somewhat wondering expression before clicking off her phone and tucking it back into her pocket, "Thanks for the intro, Petra. I'll be back around later to talk supplies with you guys, hopefully when the owner's around." She grins and nods to Gustavo as she's turning towards the door, "Stay safe out there, officer, and good luck on that test."

"Laxatives with X? Oi vey, that sounds like a world of trouble. I'm guessing he's going to be in jail pretty much forever, then? I mean, backpack fulla drugs, assaulting an officer and the like. Seems like the kinda thing where they lock you up and throw away the key." Petra adds a bit of liquid to the herbs so they'll mix into a fine paste, carefully grinding the ingredients. She nods her head to Alexandra, smiling as the woman begins to take her leave. "No problem-- stop by anytime. The owners are around pretty often, and you can pick up a business card up by the counter with our hours, the website, the whole shebang. Pretty sure the website has their email address."

"Oh yeah. He had a pound of weed on him, some kush from BC, and 'bout forty X pills, a half pound of crank and twenty grams of coke. That's one class two felony with intent to distribute and three class three felonies. Aggravated assault is a class four felony, felony resisting arrest is another year or so." the cop agrees. He reaches for his sleeve and pulls up the jersey, revealing the shirt under it and pulling that up, gently peeling away the bandage. The wound looks nasty but doesn't need stitches and looks clean. "The place is pretty nice. I was worried it was gonna be, you know. Weird." he admits.

"...kush from BC? Really?" Petra says, as though she has any idea what in the world that is. Depending on his perceptive skills, maybe he can even tell that she has no clue, despite the fact that she's a fairly skilled liar. "Wow, that's... heavy. So how much jailtime's all that likely gonna net him? I'm surprised felony resisting arrest's only a year, to be honest. You always hear about people getting locked away for like, ever." She mmmms thoughtfully at the wound as she sees it, nodding. "Yeah, that does *not* look pleasant. It hurt?" The comment about weirdness gets an amused laugh from Petra. "Well, some weird is a good thing, but yeah, we try not to be too outre."

[[Category: Log Subpages]]

Alexandra - Hobbies and History

2011-03-30T16:29:58Z

Chaemera:

{| id="layoutTable" width="100%"
|-
! width="25%" | Date:
! width="75%"| Setting:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
'''IC:''' {{pad}}09/18/2008
 
'''RL:'''{{pad}}03/30/2011
| rowspan=3 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Setting}}
|-
! Cast:
|-
| style="padding: 1em;"|
* [[Alexandra]]
* [[Gustavo]]
* [[Petra]]
|-
! colspan=2 | Log:
|-
| colspan=2 style="padding: 1em;"| {{:{{PAGENAME}}/Log}}
|-
|}
[[Category:Log]]

Alexandra - Hobbies and History/Setting

2011-03-30T16:28:50Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{:Herbal Apothecary/Description}}'

Alexandra - Hobbies and History

2011-03-30T16:27:30Z

Chaemera: Created page with '{{subst:Log}}'