The Magic Box, Wednesday

[livingartifact]

Jenkins had been the -- well, not proud necessarily, but faintly willing -- proprietor of Fandom's very own magic shop for a week now, and he very nearly had the inventory completed.

It would help if the books didn't keep swapping places.

"You know," he told them. "The Library tried this trick on me before. Somehow on you it's less charming." He shook his head. "I swear, if things start literally vanishing before my eyes. . . ."

Well, he'd pout. And then investigate the cause. But he'd be belligerent about it first.

Welcome to the Magic Box!
We're hiring!

[open!]

Comments

[2_old_for_this]

Around lunch time, Peter decided to let the phone answer itself, and headed to the Magic Box, by way of the Perk.

When he walked through the door this time, he had two London fogs, and a bag with one lavender and lemon scone in it.

"Jenkins?"

[livingartifact]

"Mr. Octavian," Jenkins greeted, after giving a box of good luck charms a final warning glance and pointed finger. "I thought for certain you'd still be bogged down in the post-holiday chaos."

[2_old_for_this]

"I am," Peter confessed. "But I needed a break. And when you don't really sleep much, it's easy to find time to catch up later."

He held out one cup and the bag to Jenkins. "I hope you like scones?"

[livingartifact]

"If they're done well." Done well in this particular instance meaning 'frosted'. "Let me see if I can clear a space. The seance table is of the type popularized by the Fox Sisters, so it's almost assuredly a fake. . . ."

[2_old_for_this]

"There's no extra magic around it," Peter offered. "Just what's in the whole shop."

"I can't vouch for the scone, though. It just smelled good." Yes, it was lemon-frosted.

[livingartifact]

Jenkins let out a soft hrmph. "Well, I suppose that's good enough." He gingerly picked up the crystal ball from the center of the table and set it on the shelf. "You can perceive magical auras, can you?"

[2_old_for_this]

Peter nodded. "Not a constant thing; I have to try. But it's easy."

And...he wasn't going to mention Jenkins'. Not unless he did. He'd just set the teas and scone down.

[livingartifact]

The discretion was appreciated, though rather unnecessary. Jenkins' secrets were mostly kept by virtue of the fact that almost no one ever thought to ask.

"A trick picked up in your time in hell, I suppose. Or is it something any 'Shadow' can do?"

[2_old_for_this]

Peter hesitated. "I'm not sure, actually. Most Shadows don't get as old as I am now. It could be because of that, or it could be living in Hell and learning magic made me more sensitive to it."

[livingartifact]

"Interesting. Knock that off this instant!"

That second bit was over his shoulder, towards a collection of brightly colored rabbits' feet that literally anywhere else would be mere tourist kitsch. "Do not make me come back there! So help me, I will turn this magic store right around!"

The rabbits feet settled back down, managing somehow to look alternately cowed and unrepentant. Jenkins cleared his throat and pulled out his pocket square to give the table a quick dusting before gesturing Peter to a chair.

"How old do Shadows typically get, then?"

[2_old_for_this]

Peter sat and picked up his tea. "The oldest one is about two thousand. But most haven't made it that long. Accidents, murder..." He shrugged. "Most of the oldest were hunted down by the church."

[livingartifact]

Jenkins took a seat across from him, after one final glare towards the shop inventory. "Oh? Which one?"

[2_old_for_this]

"Roman Catholic, mostly."

Peter sipped his tea, then looked at it. "That is good."

[era_two_triangle]

Between the Pokemon movie in Deadpool's class today and her conversation with Tip last night coupled with her research in the library today, Peridot was actually distraught enough to go wandering during her library break time to clear her head.

Wandering, in this case, led to her peering into the magic shop speculatively. She'd never been inside before, and curiosity was a powerful creature, especially on little, scientifically-minded Gems.

And so, after a few moments of watching the man inside rearranging the books through the window, she opened the door and ambled on in.

[livingartifact]

"I'm not buying any cookies today," Jenkins said, then actually, you know, looked up from his work. "And you are not a girl scout, are you." He pulled a pair of glasses from his inside jacket pocket and peered a little closer. "Are you some sort of . . . gremlin?"

[era_two_triangle]

"I'm a Gem," Peridot replied, squinting right back up at the man, one eyebrow raised speculatively. "The gremlins sometimes answer to me, but I'm not one."

They were all squishy and organic, for a start.

"What's a girl scout, and why would they come to a store attempting to sell anything? Isn't that... backwards?"

[livingartifact]

"One would think," Jenkins agreed. "A girl scout is a tenacious young female creature, about your height I believe. Dress primarily in shades of green. Slaves to the modern capitalist idea of the 'free market'. They wander around towns, accosting innocent adults, and try to foist their addictive cookies upon them."

Well, that explanation was needlessly hyperbolic.

"You'll pardon my confusion, gems in my experience tend to be far less. . . ." He gestured towards Peridot in a manner meant to convey anthropomorphism. "Unless -- are you perhaps a subspecies of troll?"

[era_two_triangle]

And Peridot had no interest in cookies, so overall, she mostly just got 'pushy and organic' out of that whole explanation.

"What's a troll?"

Peridot was only a troll on the internet, thank you.

[livingartifact]

Jenkins spent as little time on the internet as possible. Which, considering that most of his habits had been developed well before mankind harnessed electricity, was not difficult.

"Giant, angry Norwegians." You see, Jenkins, this is why Baird spent the first year she knew you calling you 'cryptic and annoying'. "Turn into stone during the daylight hours."

[era_two_triangle]

"I'm not from Norwege," Peridot protested, wrinkling her nose. "I'm from Homeworld. And I'm a Gem all the time."

Poor Norway.

[livingartifact]

"I imagine a troll might claim much the same. Only in Norwegian." Jenkins shrugged. "I can't say I've spent much time trying to converse with one, not having a death wish." Not that a troll would be able to kill him. "Very well then, what does a 'gem' do? Other than look pretty and occasionally bring about the fall of nations?"

[era_two_triangle]

There was a long pause at that, and then Peridot's head tilted sideways a little.

"That's a question with a very broad answer," she noted. "It depends what we were made for. But everything we do goes toward the improvement of Homeworld and the expansion of the Gem empire across the universe."

A pause.

"Everything they do."

She was reformed.

[livingartifact]

"Ah," Jenkins said. "Colonialist thugs." A tale as old as time. Or at the very least sentience. "Have you disowned this 'Gem empire' then? Gone rogue?"

[era_two_triangle]

Peridot gave a put-upon sigh and started wandering the store, looking at the merchandise.

"They were wasting resources," she explained. "I attempted to tell my Diamond of my plans for an alternate, less destructive use for Earth. She didn't take it well."

And then Peridot had called her a clod. It had been a whole thing.

[livingartifact]

"High-ranking officers rarely care to take suggestions from below," Jenkins said. "This didn't happen while you were living here did it?"

If Fandom was due to be destroyed by space-rocks, Jenkins would rather like to not be here for it.