Logs:Of Spells and Skepticism (Or, Little Souvenirs)

Of Spells and Skepticism (Or, Little Souvenirs)
Dramatis Personae Alestair, Kavalam
In Absentia	2024-06-03 "These things used to be common knowledge."
Location <NYC> Upper East Side
Alestair’s shop has closed for the afternoon and he’s found himself out and about in the streets of the Upper East Side. He isn’t doing an amazing job of blending in, dressed in a pair of bright mustard colored pants, a crisp white long sleeved button down, matching mustard gloves, and a royal blue cloak slung around his shoulders. He’s about to take a bite from his hot dog when somebody moving past shoulder checks him, causing him to drop the food on his chest staining his button down with relish. Letting out a defeated sigh he keeps moving through the crowd, making his way to a public seating area near the subway entrance, moving to a seemingly unoccupied part of the space and makes a few odd hand gestures, a glowing fractal pattern appearing his palm for the briefest of moments before the stain lifts and he looks pleased with himself. Seemingly unoccupied, but a moment after Alestair's Glow has glowed, after the stain has vanished, it becomes quite apparent that Alestair isn't alone here. Kavalam's appearance isn't exactly sudden -- more like noticing something that's been there all along than like getting jumpscared by a Surprise Appearance. It's hard to say how he could have missed the youth, really; the boy is in a very bold marigold short-sleeved button-down with his jeans and sandals, sitting on the back of a bench quite close to Alestair. "Deadly trick there." He makes a clumsy but not fully inaccurate mimicry of Alestair's hand symbols. "Does it work on tea stains. They are a very tough one." Alastair just stares at Kavalam as he notices him, taking a moment to decide if he’s a threat or not. “I did not feel your presence at all. How did you do that?” Only then does he realize something was asked of him and he straightens himself out, “It does. I haven’t ran into a stain it doesn’t work on yet, not to say they don’t exist. The worlds are vast and there are many things I do not know.” "Feel? Are you a telepath, then?" Kavalam is leaning a little bit closer, squinting through his spectacles at Alestair's shirt. He sits back with an impressed nod when he satisfied himself that the stain is indeed gone. "Worlds." He sounds a little skeptical, here, though maybe not quite as skeptical as most people would be. "How many worlds do you know?" “Not quite.” Alestair Dodgers the question before his brows crease in thought. “Counting Earth there are the Nine Realms, the Otherworld, Avalon, Hell, Heaven, Olympus, Ama, Orun, and a number of other God Realms and pocket dimension you can access from either here or The Omniversal Hub of All Cross-Time. Not to mention I heard New York recently was attacked by aliens. All things considered Earth is but a grain of sand in the grand scheme of things.” "I think two weeks ago I would have thought you are a verum nutter but just this weekend I went to a fancy-fancy party with an Asgardian prince. It's the world that's got nutty, hm?" Kavalam leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. His fingers lace, forming a small bridge to rest his chin on. "Have you been all those places?" “Well, these things used to be common knowledge. Time doesn’t move the same off earth though, so most of them don’t realize they’ve faded into fairy tales.” Alestair explains, before lighting up once he realizes what Kavalam said. “So you’ve met Thor then? I haven’t had the pleasure personally, but I have visited Asgard. It’s been ages ago now though.” He waved the memory off before continuing his impromptu lecture, “I haven’t personally visited every realm. Some are incredibly dangerous for humans, but I have made it my mission to at least collect a souvenir from each place. Of all the realms I’ve seen in partial to the Otherworld, none of the plants I’ve seen on earth compare, but it has it’s own unique dangers. The Fae can be… fickle.” "Fae. Like a fairy person? I am swinging just a little bit back to crazy," Kavalam admits, holding up his finger and thumb -- just a smidge! -- apart. He is looking with a sharp curiosity over Alestair, though. Taking in the clothes, the cloak. "I think even if met a fairy plant I would not know it very much. Earth plants they already seem extremely strange to me. Do you know that -- ah, that fuzzy one. Looks like a brain thing, it --" He shakes his head, and pushes his glasses a little higher when they slip down with the motion. "What kind of souvenir then? How do you even go. One time I went to another dimension but it was on accident only. Terrible place." “Fuzzy brain..” Alestair’s stops to think before snapping, “Cockscomb, edible and useful for keeping pests out of your flowerbeds.” He nods sagely before pulling the glove from him right hand to show the metallic prosthesis off to Kavalam, “This is one. Lost my hand in a duel some ten years ago, had this commissioned in the Otherworld. This cost me a few favors.” At that news here offers a sympathetic smile, “While rare accidental interdimensional travel is not unheard of. There are pathways all around us but generally only those with an innate sense or training can use them.” "That," Kavalam tells Alastair seriously, "is a terrible souvenir. If I go wandering I hope I keep my limbs attached. It is a very cool hand," he says this almost apologetically, "but I think it is cooler to not get your hand cut off at all." That isn't stopping him from eying the metallic prosthesis with a great intrigue. "Where do you get training for dimensional travel school. I have only just finished the boring kind of school. I would like a better one." “To be fair, I lost it beforehand.” Alestair simply shrugs and replaces the glove. “Back home. We had much of the same schooling though a greater focus on the true nature of things. Unfortunately they take their isolationism from the more mundane seriously. Now.” He claps his hands together once and reaches into his robe, “I hope you understand all of this is very secretive, so.” He pulls his hand out and between two fingers is an off-white business card for Alestair’s Esoterica and Floristry, “In exchange for your silence I’m willing to offer up either a charm or a panacea. Just come by during business hours.” "You have a whole magic shop?" Kavalam's eyes have gone wide-wide, his expression brighter. "Oh, don't worry at all." He is taking the card, studying it carefully and then tucking it into a pocket. "I am almost incapable of spreading secrets. So good at privacy you won't even remember this --" This what? Nevermind, probably nobody is talking. It's a good thing Alestair found this nice quiet nook to do his spellcasting -- there's nobody else here at all. “Wonderful.” Alestair goes back to admiring how clean his shirt is. “Now where was?” He spins on his heels and wanders back out in the street, whistling cheerfully to himself.