Howl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
galdorleod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2021-01-13 06:10 pm
galdorleod) wrote in middaeg2021-01-13 06:10 pm
Entry tags:
magick shoppe, open late
Who: Howl and you! (open)
When: Ieneuer (January) 12th, 4:00 p.m. - Ieneur 13th, approximately 2:00 a.m.
Where: Entertainment District
What: Howl is holding a grand opening for his new spells & potions store/pawn shop, Pendragon's. Not only is he offering discounted witch services, but he put out an advertisement last week looking for new bonds, part-time help, suppliers of ingredients, and fellow collectors of magic items.
Warnings: none (...for now.)
Pendragon's is easy to miss if you aren't looking for it. Set up in the bottom floor of a run-down two-story building, squeezed tightly between two similar block flats, the three-step stoop leading to the front door is lit by two magitech lanterns on either side. A cheap wooden sign with the letters Pendragon's painted in purple hangs to the left of the door, beneath one of the lamps. The shop's curtains are pulled open, but only dim light from candles and a fireplace can be seen from the outside. The floor above is a one-room apartment, for use as the owner's residence, but its windows are dark and quiet.
At four o'clock, just as the winter sun is starting to set, Howl emerges from the front door, dressed to the nines. Large oval-shaped tanzanites hang from his ears. As usual, he's practically dripping with spells specially crafted to beautify himself: his plain black hair as been changed to a flaxen, lemony blond, smooth and feathery in texture; his skin is supple and devoid of blemishes or any trace of facial hair or stubble; his eyebrows are uniform and his thin lips are slightly flushed. And while magic can't take away that glassy, slightly lifeless look he always has in his blue eyes, a spell has tinted them to match the deep color of his earrings and clothes.
He props the door open wide, glances out at the street with a smile, and heads back inside, and with that, Pendragon's has officially been established.
a. how may I help you?
For someone as flamboyant as Howl, the inside of Pendragon's is relatively modest.
On the left side of the entrance, a tea table and four chairs are set up beside the shop's largest window, along with several large bookshelves and mantles carrying assorted foci. On the right side of the entrance is a large stone hearth with a mantel built in an arch around it, forming part of the support for the open chimney in the ceiling above. A small broom closet beside the fireplace has a row of hooks on the wall beside it for the storage of hats, coats and umbrellas. Observant visitors may notice that despite this building being two stories, there are no stairs leading upwards anywhere... but, a large circular runic inscription is drawn on the wooden ceiling and support beams in white chalk.
In front of the hearth is a work table, already covered with a few half-made spells, and along the shop's right wall and far back wall are rows and rows of shelves and cabinets and countertops, some shut with doors but others open to the air and clearly stuffed with a huge variety of strange items - fruits and vegetables, folded fabrics, tools, broken tools, candles, and dozens and dozens of labelled bottles and boxes and packages.
Dried flowers, strings of garlic and tulip bulbs, animal skulls, broken seashells and other various natural knickknacks are strewn about the shop - as decor, probably, or are they there for some other purpose? Whatever the reason may be, the inside of Pendragon's carries the same scent of hyacinth flowers that always follows Howl, and even though the door's propped open to the cold winter air, the inside of the shop is warm and comfortable.
Howl is sitting at the workbench, flipping through a large tome, when he hears someone walk in. He picks up his head and trains his eyes on the person who has just walked through his front door. A customer? Or, maybe someone who noticed his call for other interested persons?
"Welcome!" he says pleasantly, placing a bookmark on his page and closing the tome. "Don't worry - you're in the right place. How may I serve you?"
b. what're you buyin'? [semi-wildcard]
Most people who come to Pendragon's on its opening day are there out of curiosity, interested in the advertisement's promise of "prices and methods unique to any witch of the Coven" and "a blend of Mirrorbound and Haven magic." And to his credit, for the most part, Howl does not disappoint - the standard offerings are priced well, especially for a spell and witchcraft shop located in this area of the city and with such unusual business hours. (How exactly did he accomplish this? Hmm... how, indeed?)
Some magical offerings are in very unusual forms, which may be the unique "blends" and "methods" he was referring to. For example, one featured item is something called drying power - a dust-like substance claimed to instantly dry or dehydrate any person or thing that it's sprinkled upon. The small note beside its display mentions the possibility of adding it to tattoos, thus making life much easier for monsters sensitive to water, but it asserts that its potential uses are "surely infinite" if a buyer is creative enough.
So, what kind of magic are you in the market for? An experienced wizard like him can surely help you find it...
c. what're you sellin'? [semi-wildcard]
But, Howl isn't just trying to make sales to whomever comes inside. He's always on the lookout for the next totem or charm that could take his magic to the next level, the next specimen that could amplify his potions and inscriptions.
Are you a monster? Howl stands a bit closer to you than you may be comfortable with as you converse. He seems to be looking you over, judging the qualify of your scales or fur or skin or chitin. Perhaps you've got very big horns - or very big... other parts.
Witches aren't exempt from his curiosity, either. Those with strong magical auras interest him the most, but other unusual attributes are sure to catch his attention, especially if they suggest recent intimacy with a monster - fresh puncture wounds from vampire fangs, the scent of turnskin musk, rashes from chimera poison.
He sure is doing a lot staring. What's the deal with that? Despite how long you're shopping in the store, or how long your consultation goes on for, he won't just come out and say it.
d. one last call for alcohol.
It's early Wednesday morning when it's time to finally close his first day of business. The wide room is quiet except for the soft crackling of a speechless fire in the hearth. With the shop empty, Howl is thankful he can simply step outside, turn off the lamps, and call it a night.
By now, he'd taken off the long velvet coat he'd started the day with; it had become too hot in the warm interior of Pendragon's, especially when multiple people were there. Once he opens the front door, a cold burst of winter air hits him and he's reminded why he chose to wear it that day to begin with. His first impulse is to turn around and get his coat, but he realizes a second later how silly that is. It only takes a few seconds to close up for the night. And yet, he feels compelled to look out into the dark street, to pause and let the chilly air blow against his cheeks.
Perhaps he's being hasty. Howl turns back inside. After retrieving his coat, a half-empty bottle of brandy and a shot glass, he returns to the door and steps outside. Instead of putting out the lamps, he takes a seat on the stoop and pours himself a drink - much like he did on the first night he moved in to this new building back in October - and settles back to quietly watch the late night revelers walk by.
((ooc: I marked prompts B and C as "semi-wildcard," as weird as that is, bc they're left open for you to decide the specifics of what your character is at Pendragon for and/or what Howl might be interested in about your character. I hope that makes sense! ^_^;; If you want to contact me to plot anything or ask a question, you can PM me, poke me on plurk at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
lazdo, or DM me on Discord at OddLazdo#2470. tysm!))
When: Ieneuer (January) 12th, 4:00 p.m. - Ieneur 13th, approximately 2:00 a.m.
Where: Entertainment District
What: Howl is holding a grand opening for his new spells & potions store/pawn shop, Pendragon's. Not only is he offering discounted witch services, but he put out an advertisement last week looking for new bonds, part-time help, suppliers of ingredients, and fellow collectors of magic items.
Warnings: none (...for now.)
⛧ Four o'Clock Opening.
Pendragon's is easy to miss if you aren't looking for it. Set up in the bottom floor of a run-down two-story building, squeezed tightly between two similar block flats, the three-step stoop leading to the front door is lit by two magitech lanterns on either side. A cheap wooden sign with the letters Pendragon's painted in purple hangs to the left of the door, beneath one of the lamps. The shop's curtains are pulled open, but only dim light from candles and a fireplace can be seen from the outside. The floor above is a one-room apartment, for use as the owner's residence, but its windows are dark and quiet.
At four o'clock, just as the winter sun is starting to set, Howl emerges from the front door, dressed to the nines. Large oval-shaped tanzanites hang from his ears. As usual, he's practically dripping with spells specially crafted to beautify himself: his plain black hair as been changed to a flaxen, lemony blond, smooth and feathery in texture; his skin is supple and devoid of blemishes or any trace of facial hair or stubble; his eyebrows are uniform and his thin lips are slightly flushed. And while magic can't take away that glassy, slightly lifeless look he always has in his blue eyes, a spell has tinted them to match the deep color of his earrings and clothes.
He props the door open wide, glances out at the street with a smile, and heads back inside, and with that, Pendragon's has officially been established.
a. how may I help you?
For someone as flamboyant as Howl, the inside of Pendragon's is relatively modest.
On the left side of the entrance, a tea table and four chairs are set up beside the shop's largest window, along with several large bookshelves and mantles carrying assorted foci. On the right side of the entrance is a large stone hearth with a mantel built in an arch around it, forming part of the support for the open chimney in the ceiling above. A small broom closet beside the fireplace has a row of hooks on the wall beside it for the storage of hats, coats and umbrellas. Observant visitors may notice that despite this building being two stories, there are no stairs leading upwards anywhere... but, a large circular runic inscription is drawn on the wooden ceiling and support beams in white chalk.
In front of the hearth is a work table, already covered with a few half-made spells, and along the shop's right wall and far back wall are rows and rows of shelves and cabinets and countertops, some shut with doors but others open to the air and clearly stuffed with a huge variety of strange items - fruits and vegetables, folded fabrics, tools, broken tools, candles, and dozens and dozens of labelled bottles and boxes and packages.
Dried flowers, strings of garlic and tulip bulbs, animal skulls, broken seashells and other various natural knickknacks are strewn about the shop - as decor, probably, or are they there for some other purpose? Whatever the reason may be, the inside of Pendragon's carries the same scent of hyacinth flowers that always follows Howl, and even though the door's propped open to the cold winter air, the inside of the shop is warm and comfortable.
Howl is sitting at the workbench, flipping through a large tome, when he hears someone walk in. He picks up his head and trains his eyes on the person who has just walked through his front door. A customer? Or, maybe someone who noticed his call for other interested persons?
"Welcome!" he says pleasantly, placing a bookmark on his page and closing the tome. "Don't worry - you're in the right place. How may I serve you?"
b. what're you buyin'? [semi-wildcard]
Most people who come to Pendragon's on its opening day are there out of curiosity, interested in the advertisement's promise of "prices and methods unique to any witch of the Coven" and "a blend of Mirrorbound and Haven magic." And to his credit, for the most part, Howl does not disappoint - the standard offerings are priced well, especially for a spell and witchcraft shop located in this area of the city and with such unusual business hours. (How exactly did he accomplish this? Hmm... how, indeed?)
Some magical offerings are in very unusual forms, which may be the unique "blends" and "methods" he was referring to. For example, one featured item is something called drying power - a dust-like substance claimed to instantly dry or dehydrate any person or thing that it's sprinkled upon. The small note beside its display mentions the possibility of adding it to tattoos, thus making life much easier for monsters sensitive to water, but it asserts that its potential uses are "surely infinite" if a buyer is creative enough.
So, what kind of magic are you in the market for? An experienced wizard like him can surely help you find it...
c. what're you sellin'? [semi-wildcard]
But, Howl isn't just trying to make sales to whomever comes inside. He's always on the lookout for the next totem or charm that could take his magic to the next level, the next specimen that could amplify his potions and inscriptions.
Are you a monster? Howl stands a bit closer to you than you may be comfortable with as you converse. He seems to be looking you over, judging the qualify of your scales or fur or skin or chitin. Perhaps you've got very big horns - or very big... other parts.
Witches aren't exempt from his curiosity, either. Those with strong magical auras interest him the most, but other unusual attributes are sure to catch his attention, especially if they suggest recent intimacy with a monster - fresh puncture wounds from vampire fangs, the scent of turnskin musk, rashes from chimera poison.
He sure is doing a lot staring. What's the deal with that? Despite how long you're shopping in the store, or how long your consultation goes on for, he won't just come out and say it.
⛧ Two o'Clock Closing.
d. one last call for alcohol.
It's early Wednesday morning when it's time to finally close his first day of business. The wide room is quiet except for the soft crackling of a speechless fire in the hearth. With the shop empty, Howl is thankful he can simply step outside, turn off the lamps, and call it a night.
By now, he'd taken off the long velvet coat he'd started the day with; it had become too hot in the warm interior of Pendragon's, especially when multiple people were there. Once he opens the front door, a cold burst of winter air hits him and he's reminded why he chose to wear it that day to begin with. His first impulse is to turn around and get his coat, but he realizes a second later how silly that is. It only takes a few seconds to close up for the night. And yet, he feels compelled to look out into the dark street, to pause and let the chilly air blow against his cheeks.
Perhaps he's being hasty. Howl turns back inside. After retrieving his coat, a half-empty bottle of brandy and a shot glass, he returns to the door and steps outside. Instead of putting out the lamps, he takes a seat on the stoop and pours himself a drink - much like he did on the first night he moved in to this new building back in October - and settles back to quietly watch the late night revelers walk by.
((ooc: I marked prompts B and C as "semi-wildcard," as weird as that is, bc they're left open for you to decide the specifics of what your character is at Pendragon for and/or what Howl might be interested in about your character. I hope that makes sense! ^_^;; If you want to contact me to plot anything or ask a question, you can PM me, poke me on plurk at
no subject
"There's no point, in that case," he says, to himself, dejectedly. The conversation cannot be left at that, though, if he wants to attain any peace of mind tonight. His hand gently peels hers away from his chest and he turns to face her.
"...I had a business partner, you could say, as a practicing wizard in Ingary," he says to her through the darkness. Holding her hand, he pulls her a few steps towards the broom closet beside the hearth. "Today was my first day seeing clients without him at my side. That's all."
But his low mood continues. It's a pronounced amount of loneliness for a business partner.
no subject
"Would talking about him help at all?"
no subject
"Would you like to see my living quarters? Watch your head," Howl says, very intentionally ignoring her question as he opens the door to the closet. "Or, I should say, watch your antlers. Come on."
As he tugs on her hand, he steps inside the dark broom closet, coaxing her inside.
no subject
But for now she allows herself to be led, sounding a touch skeptical as she scoots into the closet.
"Your living quarters? You can't possibly be serious about sleeping in here-"
no subject
Once he's managed to get her inside - and to drop the topic of his gloomy attitude - Howl grins with a vague sense of triumph and draws her body close against his insistently. In the same motion, he shuts the broom closet door, thrusting them into complete darkness, and tips her chin upwards to steal a kiss. Howl is as sensual as he always is, but there's a subtle tone of neediness in the way his lips move against hers, and the way his anxiety quickly ebbs following the contact.
Then, his hand, which never left the knob of the closet door, turns it and opens it again, to reveal not the witchcrafting shop, but a humble one-room studio apartment, dimly lit by a magitech lamp hanging from the ceiling and rows of candles placed along each window. When he breaks the kiss, he's still grinning at her.
"Please, come inside."
no subject
She pulls away with a little gasp and steps into the room with a laugh.
"Oh, Howl - you never cease to amaze me. How long did it take you to come up with this little spell?"
no subject
"It's just a portal spell," he answers with a shrug, but the wonder in her voice is making him smile. "The stairs took up far too much room. I figured, why let them clutter the floor plan when a transformation spell and a portal can give me so much extra room?"
He throws his coat onto an armchair (also partially covered by a few days' worth of laundry) and walks to Iramaat's side. "Want the tour?"
no subject
"I would love it. Show me what you've been up to. Lay it before me and I will give you my unvarnished opinion!"
She appreciates him like this, without the cloak. He's just... cute.
no subject
"Well, first, we've got Corner No. 1," he says proudly. "Here you'll find my most voluminous wardrobe and changing room, stuffed to the brim with silks and suits" -- he's referring to the armchair piled with clothes and a used armoire with its cabinet ajar and drawers in moderate disarray -- "and beside that, the place where the real magic happens." Of course, by that, he means his bed.
no subject
"Ah, yes, very impressive - should we go clothes shopping together some time? I'd love to see what else you can find-"
It's only a suggestion, of course. Her eyes slide to the bed and she snorts, giving him a bump with her hip.
"I know exactly what kind of magic that is and I'm well aware of what you're capable of..." She sticks her tongue out playfully, "Maybe I'll make you give me a private show again."
no subject
But, even as he says that, he spins them both towards the other corners of the room, backing towards the bed at the same time, so that they both take seats on the soft mattress in the same movement. Howl hasn't realized it, but having Iramaat here has allowed him to forget about Calcifer, and his old friend doesn't return to his thoughts for the rest of the night.