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
Still waiting for Steak to take his hands, he tips his head towards the pile of ingredients. "I'm trying to replicate a transformation spell I had mastered back in my home world. It isn't for use by anyone but myself, and shan't be used to transform anyone but myself. It won't take affect now, either - it will merely be prepped for the future. Now, may we please continue?"
He flexes out his fingers, stretching his palms open. They have to hold hands to bond, even if only temporarily!
no subject
"You could have secrets planned. You seem like a scoundrel." He narrows his eyes at Howl, his words heavy, his stomach rolling even as he lifts his hands and grips Howl's, just a touch too heavy with his grip, as though convincing himself to fight through the strange thoughts washing through him.
Ignore the doubt, the shadows whispering in his mind. He won't know what the truth is if he doesn't pursue it.
no subject
The bonding incantation does not take long for Howl to recite. He's content with letting the other Witch cling to his fingers with whatever grip he prefers as long as it helps him sit still through the ritual. A familiar warm, electric tingle begins to build in Howl's palms and wrists as it goes, until he finally completes the spell and it spreads into the rest of his body.
"May this spell be full of power and materialize with great success," Howl says plainly. It's the vow meant to complete the ceremony. Once Steak says his, the bond is complete, and their minds are connected.
Howl senses his anxious energy immediately... and the bloat of magic vibrating inside him. Yikes. What might stick out the most to Steak, though, is how relatively numb Howl's emotions seem to be, despite appearing so annoyed and impatient with him.
my fingers: knights of the howly sword
The bonding ceremony is familiar enough. He's been through it twice now, and if he didn't feel like a bloated balloon, this would probably be the most pleasant version of it. No annoying Coven members standing officiating it, their eyes boring into the side of his skull as he recites vows. None of the awkwardness of having to verbally tell that bastard, Red Wine, that he wants to protect him and fight by his side always.
(It's true, but that doesn't mean they have to declare it. Ugh.)
"I'll make sure you don't do anything stupid with this magic," Steak declares, a blunt and flat vow, but still the truth. He would certainly do his best if things go awry here.
And, without fanfare, the bond is complete, and Steak blinks as everything stabilises between them. It's... quiet. Quieter than the bond with Marie, eerily reminiscent of the way Red Wine used to fiercely protect his emotions, leaving Steak unaware that it was even a component of Bonds until his most recent, full-fledged Bond.
"Let's go." No sense wasting any more time, is there?
no subject
Howl takes a step forward. He lets go of one of Steak's hand so he can wrap around his lower back and pull him closer. This brings his body flush with his own, and Howl's leg between Steak's, with his upper thigh pressed snugly against his groin.
Howl is prepared for this to shock the taller man. Truthfully, it's making his own heart pound. But he's well aware of the fact that this sort of interaction strengthens bonds and subsequent magic. No smile rises to his face as he leans in close, his nose nearly touching Steak's, to gaze purposefully into his eyes.
"Listen to me, Steak, and listen well," Howl murmurs. His emotional link is still relatively flat and guarded. "I am the one doing a favor for you - a fool on the verge of exploding. If you don't want me to do anything stupid, follow my instructions."
no subject
"What are you doing?!"
This was not on the list of things Steak saw coming, and his cheeks flush hot and pink as their bodies press together, so close Steak thinks he could count each one of Howl's eyelashes if he wasn't trying to avoid eye contact.
Because, um. He isn't entirely blind. He knows enough about beauty to know that Howl is very beautiful, and having it thrown in his face like this is distracting at best. And at worst...
Well, given where Howl's thigh currently is, he can probably feel the worst of this.
"Are you out of your mind?"
Isn't he supposed to be the one out of his mind?