The Old Firm... open for Business

[http://users.livejournal.com/_the_old_firm/]

Nearby the ineffable Championship Vinyl, a sign has appeared in a building's dark tinted window front.

Three large bold words stand above the rest: "The Old Firm". Underneath, "Misters Croup and Vandemar. Inquire Within for our delectable services, and to browse our selection of artifacts, implements, relics, and other assorted arcana."

Next to the window front, another sign sits in the door, in its current state it reads "Open".

Comments

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

*Aziraphale enteres the shop and looks around at the merchandise*

"Good day, gentlemen! Very interesting shop."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_the_old_firm/]

Oh yes. I believe we've had the particular pleasure of dealings with your type before.

You'll excuse the absence of my associate Mr. Vandemar, he's currently engaged in practicing his legendary golf swing in our back office.

::sound of loud gushy splat from somewhere deeper within the building::

A hole in one, no doubt. May I ask if you are here for services or substance?

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

"With my...type...you say? Er, what type would that be?"

*casts a strange look toward where the 'splat' came from*

[ooc: you may have to help me out a little, here, I'm not familiar with your fandom, so if there's something I should know please tell me!]

[http://users.livejournal.com/_the_old_firm/]

Please sir, I would never so debase as to calling anything so... divine ::he sneers at the word:: by it's true nature. It might scare the natives. ::composes himself::

Now, would you like to browse our finest of wares? We've tools of torture from the Spanish Inquisition, the mummy of John Wilkes Booth himself, Miyamoto Musashi's blood in convenient bottled form, and perhaps, if you're very nice, I may show you the unfired bullets of the gunman from the grassy knoll. ::grins wickedly::

Or perhaps, you've come because you feel your lily-white hands can't possibly become elbow deep in your adversaries' blood? You've called upon us for your dirty work? ::raises his brow, and waits::

[ooc: omg. You're playing a character from Good Omens and you've not read/seen Neverwhere? Go out and find it. Misters Croup and Vandemar have had encounters with the Angel Islington.]

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

*a little taken aback* "Ah, I was actually just calling on my neighbors to introduce myself." *pauses, then holds out his hand* "Mr. Phale. I run the rare book shop."

[ooc: Yes, I know, bad me, not as up on my reading as I should be. But I promise I shall go check it out, especially if we're going to be "neighbors". :p)

[http://users.livejournal.com/_the_old_firm/]

::clenches fist, then straightens it out and accepts the hand, and shakes it very meticulously::

Ah, books. The accumulation of knowledge is a fair pursuit, no doubt. Some of us become so sharp, we may just cut ourselves, Mister Phale. As you may have deduced from my indication that Mister Vandemar is currently pre-disposed...

::another loud splat::

I, myself, am Mister Croup. We shall direct any tome seeking customers to you, as we dare not wish to siphon revenue away from our colorful neighbors.

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

(politely) That would be very kind of you, Mr. Croup. This is a very interesting town, and I am certain you will find plenty of...business.

(gives a nod and a polite if somewhat forced smile) Have a pleasant day.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_the_old_firm/]

::the office door opens, and Mr. Vandemar peeks out, a driver in one hand, a toad in the other::

Mr. Vandemar: "Have I missed something, Mr. Croup?"

Mr. Croup: "No no no, our fellow businessman Mr. Phale was just on his way out. Say goodbye to the nice gentleman, Mr. Vandemar."

Mr. Vandemar: "Bye Bye!" ::waves driver::

[master-of-fear.livejournal.com]

[OOC: OMG I WAS THINKING ABOUT DOING THAT!!! You rule.]