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(Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Alestair, Damien | summary = "The more I catch up on current events the more I think I should’ve stayed home." | gamedate = 2024-06-24 | gamedatename = | subtitle = | location = <NYC> Alestair's Esoterica and Floristry - Greenwich Village | categories = Alestair, Damien, Alestair's Esoterica and Floristry, Fae, Magic Users | log = Alestair's Esoterica and Floristry was a clearly a gas station at one point, but has underwent some pretty d...")
 
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Revision as of 01:56, 27 June 2024

Come a Long Way
Dramatis Personae

Alestair, Damien

In Absentia


2024-06-24


"The more I catch up on current events the more I think I should’ve stayed home."

Location

<NYC> Alestair's Esoterica and Floristry - Greenwich Village


Alestair's Esoterica and Floristry was a clearly a gas station at one point, but has underwent some pretty drastic remodeling starting with a fresh coat of black paint and green accents splattered around. Where rows of coolers once sat are now bookshelves filled with everything from gardening advice to the proper way to read tarot cards. Bones and charms litter the floor space in glass cases, as well as divination tools and bundles of blue sage and items for an altar. The other half of the store is dedicated solely to flowers, carrying everything from roses to delphinium. Those with a keen eye and knowledge of magical runes would also know that outside of the mundane this store also carries genuine alchemical supplies and enchanted items.

Alestair isn’t looking his usual magic self today, in fact the man hunched at the counter looks downright mundane in comparison. His blond locks have been tied up neatly behind him and he’s dressed in a simple blue and white checked long sleeve button down, black gloves, and khaki pants. The shop is dead at the moment and since everything has been cleaned he’s nursing a cup of tea while he thumbs through the first volume of Steel Ball Run with the faintest hints of boredom on his face.

The person just slipping into the shop is holding up the Magic Weirdo Vibe well enough for the both of them -- Damien is dressed today in a faintly pearlescent white shirt with generous sleeves, its collar cinched with an emerald green cravat, a green velvet waistcoat with a silver watch chain tucked into the actual watch pocket, and deep black trousers tucked into tall gray suede boots. His gray top hat has a silver ribbon that looks almost like real metal, and he carries an elegant walking stick of some fine dark wood topped with a brass armillary sphere encased in glass in such a way that must surely render it nonfunctional. His eyes are lighting as he walks in, and though his joyful: "Oh, it is you!" is clearly directed at Alestair, arms thrown wide, he does not make it into embracing distance before getting distracted by the plant life. He's paused by a string-of-hearts, trailing one finger light against the blushing variegated leaves. "And so many friends, too!"

Alestair looks up ready to greet whoever is walking in, only to immediately get to his feet, “Damien! It’s good to see you.” He leaves his book and tea unattended to walk over to the plants as well, “Only a fraction of them, the rest are in the back. I met another not too long ago that’s found itself fused to a man, the plant seems much happier with the situation than he does though.” He does open his arms for a greeting however, “How have you been? It’s been some time.”

"I hope you had some exciting travels since we parted." Damien's embrace is firm, and brief, and he's turning bright-eyed to the plants again after. "I stopped by your home when I first got here to give my regards to your family, but would you know -- they told me you wouldn't even be born for near a century!" The small tsk of his tongue makes it seem like somehow this chronological weirdness is a failing on someone's part. "Still, I've been enjoying your earth in the interim. -- will that poor plant be alright? Being fused to a human seems terribly tedious." He does not bother saying anything like no offense.

“A century? Time is indeed a weird soup.” Alestair takes a step back to look Damien over. “I did, apparently I was gone a decade, but it felt longer. Now I’m trying to get used to being on Earth again. Honestly my attempts have been… sloppy to say the least. Going to try my hand at sobriety and see if I can make the regular humans less uncomfortable.” He looks a touch ashamed of himself. “It’s not easy trying to blend in, however do you do it?”

"There was a human in the park who told me of a magic shop this way," Damien admits lightly, "I'd no idea they meant a real one. Please tell me," he's looking away from the plant and to Alestair, with a small quirk of his lips, "that they have no idea, either?" He rests both hands on the head of his walking stick, pivoting on a heel to scrutinize Alestair. "Blend in? Oh, I've never quite gotten the hang of that. The trick, I think, is to simply be odd in a misleading direction."

“Oh, of course not.” Alestair says, before looking away. “Well. The plant man does. I very much wanted a clipping. For what it’s worth, I’m mostly positive he thinks I know where he lives though. I’ve made some mistakes, I’ve only just gotten back last month. Not that it makes it any better.” He empties his lungs through his nose and finally looks back up at Damien. “I will do better though, you have my word.”

"The plant man," Damien echoes, and though there's some fond amusement in it there's something else, too -- harder and warier, glinting behind his dark eyes. "... a friend, that you trust, I hope, or -- did you just get carried away in fascination with meeting a new plant?" He's spinning his cane in place, rotating the spherical head underneath his palm. "I dearly wish it were safe to be honest with every stray in need of help but -- goodness, your tales of earth hardly prepared me for the reality of it. It is wonderful -- in parts -- and yet with each passing decade I only fear more for mine and all other realms, once these corporations and these governments learn themselves to travel through dimensions."

“I got carried away. I’d say it was harmless, but you know better than I now that that may not be the case at all.” Alestair sighs and looks down again, clearly ashamed of himself. He doesn’t speak for another moment, instead shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. “I’m afraid I don’t know much of this world outside of New Salem. All of my stories were secondhand and when I went to experience them for myself they tried to kill me for it. That’s how I ended up meeting you in the first place. The more I catch up on current events the more I think I should’ve stayed home. I feel like there is some good I could do here, but I don’t know at what cost.”

"There is so much good you can do, I'm sure of it, if you just learn to do it safely. I knew so little outside the Crooked Market, save for the tales of the lost and the seeking who were always passing through." Now there's a wistful slant to Damien's expression, pushed back away before it can resolve into a real homesickness. "And then you showed me how to start making my own path and my own way. Perhaps after all this while I can reciprocate your good turn. Be your tour guide to earth." His hands clap once together in eagerness -- for just a moment, the cane continues its spin upright in place, and he drops a hand to it again before it starts to wobble and fall. "-- have you any idea how many new tulips they've invented while you were gone," is, apparently, the crowning pinnacle of Important Earth News to share with Alestair, and immediately after this: "and donuts! Donuts have come a very long way."

“Between us I have a few ‘extinct’ varieties, they’re sequestered from the rest because of the breaking virus, but they’re doing well. For the most part.” Alestair does seem excited about the tulips, “There’s also a wonderful bakery near here that makes brioche donuts. They’re wonderful.” He seems to compose himself with a few nods before circling back, “I would much appreciate it. This world has changed so much since I was gone.”

"Can your shop mind itself for a while?" Damien is glancing around at Alestair's lack of customers with a guilelessness that suggests this is not a teasing question. "We can get these brioche donuts and I --" The gleam of his eyes here and the twirl of his ostentatiously odd-looking walking stick suggests that this, at least, might be a bit more tongue-in-cheek, "can teach you how to be the most unsuspicious of very-normal humans."

“The beautiful part of running my own shop is setting my own hours.” Alestair walks back to the counter to close his manga and collect the blue cloak he has hung up next to it. “Afterwards I’ll show you my other shop, I’m sure I have a few things there that might interest you.”

"Excellent." Damien is flitting towards the door to hold it open for Alestair. His offhand addition: "Oh, I didn't even tell you, I might be developing a new family!" sounds less hefty in importance than the far more vital: "which way to this bakery?"