Moving Pictures, part 1

It was early evening by the time Shae finally found the shop. Just a name and a district. She'd had to ask several people for directions before she was pointed in the right direction. Now she stood outside, drinking in details. Travelling with her was Fox, her fuzzy companion, the canid often veered off course to investigate new smells. Heeled boots that laced up the front over dark jeans. A t-shirt in black with a white print: the artistic image of a corset over a skeletal torso. A faded thrift store leather jacket, and her hair in a loose braid. The new piercings in her ears were still healing, but she wore a colorful bracelet and a silver drop necklace to compensate for their plainness. Gifts from a friend.

In the far-flung corners of West End, Script and Sundries was as well-known as it was indifferently passed by all but the curious or the very well-informed. Set back within a wide-laned but sparsely traveled alley, a single wide door was nestled into the weathered brown brick between a set of dusty bay windows. It was stout oak that has seen a great many seasons pass and would yet see many more, it's once green paint faded and chipped with the ravages of the weather and a single wooden sign nailed to it to let searching eyes know what they had found.

Within, a wizard storage cellar and a busy strip mall bookstore had thrown up all over a sleep rural town library, or so one better traveled customer had remarked to Eli once upon a time. The shop's interior was much longer than it was wide and the shelves lining every wall stretched straight to a high, squared off ceiling. Books of every and unknown origin lines them, from dusty tomes to studious textbooks and every unimaginable/unmentionable in-between. Sporadically, some shelves were missing, replaced by the occasional frame sketch or portrait, curious things that remained still until lost interest in and then, when at the corner of the eyes, they moved!

Heavier shelves dotted the checker tiled floor between the walls, placed randomly and boasting more books and even more of the mentioned sundries. Dried herbs, tiny bones, and mystical (and religious) components of every sort were found in ceramic bowls and clear plastic tupperware bins. Art, magic, and more were found and made here, nothings priced and left to force the curious to ask questions.

The proprietor himself was in attendance, swiveling casually in a ratty leather office chair behind a heavy counter made from a bowed wood of undetermined origin, the currently messy nest of his hair spotted over an ancient cash register. Eli had his sketchpad in hand, a charcoal pencil scratching furiously over the rough surface of a page.

The bay windows earned Shae's early attention, and any displays within. The sturdy door with it's simple sign curved her lips in a smile. "Going for out of the way charm." She mused to no one in particular as she lifted a hand to latch and let herself inside. For a moment she just stood in the doorway. That's all she could do. Fox moved in while she stared at the little heaven in front of her eyes. It was like...she breathed a sigh that might have been a single word, lowered her gaze and shut the door quietly behind her. If there was a shop bell it would give her away.

Rather than announce herself, magpie she, her focus was on those shelves, those articles and books. Her fingers itched to touch things, but the lack of prices made her cautious. As if the touching of them would sound some alarm or dissipate some illusion. Fox, however was no manner of subtle and every manner of stealth. The next time that chair rotated around, Eli would find himself face to face with the fox sitting beside his cash register on the counter.

Even at his most surly, he was loathe to chase away any prospective customers, so it was only the softest of music that came filtering out from the corner behind his chair. A stereo pushed some very old jazz from it's scratchy speakers, barely registering beyond the check-out counter space so that it wouldn't annoy the patronage. But it soothed him and, sometimes, inspired. Even then, customer service wasn't his strong suit and when Shae and her little companion came in, Eli didn't even look up. Whatever he was compelled to work on, it was more important at the moment than money. Maybe.

But he was still the intuitive, perceptive sort. When you were as perceptively weak on the proverbial Rhy'din food chain as he was, you had to be, and feeling the weight of another's attention on him had all but become second nature. But if Fox expected surprise, he was going to be disappointed, because when he finally lifted his blue eyes to stare at Shae's companion, it elicited little more than a wry smile.

That was, until he was reaching beneath the counter for the remainder of his supper. A small plastic plate bearing the remnants of a small rotisserie chicken were offered up silently in tithe. For now, he'd let the master wander.

Unconsciously, she began to hum along to that music, picking it up in the air as she continued her visual browsing. The books called to her, but the components were the deeper draw. Her own supplies ran low. Were his labelled? Questions in her mind about the age and potency. The more questions that formed, the more complex her humming, until she offered harmony rather than melody. Still, Shae did not touch. Scents stirred in the air and chased her across the shop.

Fox grinned a vulpine flash of teeth that widened as the chicken came into view. Nostrils flare over the offering, capable of taking in more than just the smell of rotisserie herbs. Satisfied that there was nothing more, the fox began to eat.

The humming cut off and Shae's voice drifted over the stacks. "Is this a store or your personal collection?"

Moving Pictures, part 3

The scratch of her quill at his answer, a simple mark like a check beside one item on that list. "Good." She said simply. Quill laid along the crease of pages and notebook shut. Fox had finished that tithe of poultry, and now simply lingers on the counter, licking his chops. "I'll mention your name to my contractor." Tone turning back to warmth and curiosity as the notebook finds a new home in an interior pocket of that jacket. If she's overly cautious about brushing against her chest, well, she had an excuse. "How long have you been here? How long did it take you to establish your kingdom?"

For Eli, there was no visible change. Unwilling to leave the creature comfort of his chair, he leaned back in it and brought both hands up behind the relaxed loll of his head, lacing his fingers together as he made an unabashed study of her face. "Three years, give or take a few months. And it is much less a kingdom and more of the fruit born of a number of incredibly bad decisions mixed with surprising occurrences that eventually transitioned into a few lucky breaks. Don't let anyone ever tell you that you can't make something good from something bad. Or, at the very least, something livable."

The curve of her lips at his answer and the slight hooding of her eyes was provided for his study. An expression that suggested he was preaching to the choir, or at the very least that this one was no stranger to bad decisions and luck. "Kingdoms can be much more compact than most people realize. You can value a thing more than a massive expanse of land." A hand absently reaches out to scritch nails through the ruff of the nearby reynard. "You've done well for three years of questionable choices and surprising turns. Survival is not always easy, thriving less so. I can respect that."

"Thriving is a matter of opinion and perspective, Shae." One shoulder rolled briefly and his smile skewed for the span of a few uneven heartbeats. "I think in the end, I'm more prone to breaking even than truly profiting in most ventures, but with the habit of hedging most of those bets, I have a penchant for accruing useful favors that help."

It was her turn to study, and she did so with a tilt of her head. Words and facial expressions absorbed as she looked at him. It was not so much a look down, really, as she was no giant, but there was a slope to her neck that shifted her hair over one shoulder. "And since I come bearing a business opportunity, does this mean that I have accrued favor from you?" She mused innocently.

Eli snorted.

"I like you, Shae." It was a confession of the obvious, from their harmless dalliances in the booth to last night's game at the luau, unembellished and undefined. "But even if you hadn't walked through the door tonight and solicited me for what I can do for you, at a discounted price, I might add, my life would go on and I would still be no worse for the wear. So... no... As much as I am stimulated by your charming company and invite the opportunity to work with you, I don't owe you anything." Even as the last words were delivered with a playful tongue, he was reaching beneath the counter. There a soft hollow plastic click and the sound of something sliding before he produced two bottles of cold beer from the little Igloo cooler he kept hidden from sight. One was offered out to her.

Mock scoff at his response, but she accepted the bottle when offered. Her thumb brushed back and forth across the glass as she formed her own reply. "We need to work on your business manners, sir." Eyes drop to the bottle to check to see if the lid was a twist or a pop or removed already. "For the record, I never said a word about expecting a discount, just fair prices. You are the one who has spoken of lowered rates. I'll accept them, thought, as the favor you owe me for new business." Her tone teased in an echo of his.

"We do?" The grin that stretched his mouth was a lazy one, a lingering balm to soothe her potential disappointment in him. "I seem to do just fine most days, Shae, and like I said before, this place doesn't make up the significant bulk of my income. I'm afraid I have to be far more shrewd and uncompromising in other ventures." He listened to the rest of her response and chuckled into his bottle after he had popped the cap and tilted it up to his lips for a long pull. It was farmhouse ale, just like the drinks they had shared previously in the Inn. "Fine, fine. You're getting both. And quality, to boot. I don't sell half-assed components. That's how you get weekend dabblers killed and masters of their crafty pissed at you."

"Is that so? What other ventures are you dabbling in, hmm?" The fabric of her shirt and the leverage of the edge of his counter let her remove her own cap without doing damage to his store. One hand supports her weight on that counter, hips shifting her weight more to that side. "Shrewd, yes I can picture that. Uncompromising. Hmm. Careful, yes." The pattern swiped by her thumb into the condensation disappeared as she brought the beer to her lips to wet them. Fox, seeing that this might be a longer conversation than he bargained for, settles down on the counter. Eli's latter comments regarding dead amateurs and livid experts earns a smile. "Common sense is important."

"Ones you'd either be passingly disinterested in or those you've yet earned the confidence to have explained." Shae obviously wasn't an idiot and, despite his previous parlor tricks to entertain her, she had earned enough grudging respect that he wasn't going to treat her like one. But that didn't mean he trusted her.

"I do some portrait and photography work for some," he shrugged, giving her something. "Very specialized and not something I heavily advertise despite it's innocuous nature."

"Should have known a card player would know how to keep things close to the vest." No disappointment from her. Faint, persisting interest. "But then, you can't blame me for wanting to know more about who I'm getting into business with." Her tones neutral, friendly and practical between sips of the offered booze.

"You seem to have a skill for capturing the detail in a moment, I can understand why that might lead to a private contract or two."

"Artists are a copper penny for a dozen around here," Eli shrugged. "Just like warriors, healers, and half-demon-angel-vampire-sorority girls." Another grinned tugged at one corner of his mouth. If only he was serious.

"What I do is less common, as tasteful as it is risque, and I can charge at a premium because it isn't so prolific in these parts that there is an open bidding war amongst more than one purveyor. But if it's something of high quality, it takes more than a little time and effort."

"The extraordinary becomes mundane. The mundane extraordinary. It's surreal." She mused in response to that pulling grin. "I am not unhappy to become unremarkable in a crowd with less effort on my part." Oh this conversation was familiar. Antonia had taught her about this recently. "You refer to your video cards? Do you film lewd acts with them?" The arch of her brow betrayed her curiosity. Her terms were confused, certainly, but she could think of few things 'risque' enough to qualify.

"That is the crux of it," he tapped his nose and pointed at her with a smile. "People take Power and Ability for granted and treat it like something simple and insignificant. Not everyone can do the extraordinary." The questions, however, were worth the low peal of laughter.

"Now as you're thinking of it, Shae, no. Immortalizing someone in the nude is different, in my mind, than trying to capture a moment in time while one or more people are going at it. Not that I find the notion offensive, but... those sorts of things breed their own energy and are better left for loftier endeavors." That was Eli, ever spouting another enigma. "But I can and do draw and photo some in various states of undress, most often at their request and not mine."