[open] you bought a star in the sky tonight/ because your life is dark and it needs some light

[apotropaic]

Who: Open log. EVERYONE GET IN HERE.
What: Cockatrice Crafts --Baedal's brand new craft fair/market!
Where: Howl Barrow.
When: Sukkardi 12th of Ceidary.
Notes: This is an open post for everybody since we have so many new people joining. There'll be a sub sections in the post itself for general areas but other than that, feel free to mash you characters together like Barbies!
Warnings: None yet.

Baedal is a city that never sleeps, but everyone likes a long-lie in on a Sukkardi morning. At eleven o’clock, the Howl Barrow is climbing to a weekend buzz but it’s not quite there yet. But right off Carnelian Street, Cockatrice Markets is already has its doors open –and bubbles are floating down the street in welcome!

The Market is housed in what once would have been a small, high ceilinged factory building, but the inside and outside has now been painted all manner of colours and murals by local artistic residents. There are tables inside the airy structure, as well as in the outside alleyway, and a large mosaic chandelier dangles outside the entranceway.

It’s free entrance, fun, and like most places in Howl Barrow, friendly and inviting.

Comments

[inkdamage]

Slipping away from Bellatrix (perhaps leaving her with Ilde, perhaps she's just occupied elsewhere), Severus makes a stop he avoided the first time down the isle. The mother is busy, but no doubt will notice him eventually; Severus thinks Sally has the eyes of a witch who'll see right through him, or who'll think she does.

Gillian, however.

He has no idea what Gillian sees when she looks at him, and after (getting that box) returning her hat, he's become curious.

About her magic.

(Sure.)

The top edges of his fingertips barely touch gold ribbon, eying the display. He doesn't really look at her.

"Sell something to me."

[attentionseeking]

For this, she takes her sunglasses off - smiling, even if he isn't quite looking at her.

“Well,” she says, turning them over in her hands, “the thing about that is that I don't really sell anything to anybody. Not really. See, when people come to me - when they really come to me - it's not about what they want. Wanting is easy. Wanting changes all the time. People come to me - us - for what they need, 'cos otherwise they wouldn't be around. You know?”

All of which is actually a terrifying concept, unpacked far enough; or not very far at all, in some cases. And presumably Sally is totally loving this little spiel coming out at the least trustworthy and most male person to stop by their stall so far.

“I'm not going to sell you a thing. But...” Her fingers travel speculatively over her own display (bags, not her dress) until she settles on deep purple (which the placard declares is a talisman stone that will absorb stress and, under the right circumstances, release it into someone else) and sets it out. “I think you're going to buy this one first.”

--also an alarming assessment.

[inkdamage]

He flicks his gaze up, then.

"If I wasn't so on edge all the time I'd be dead."

He could have said I'd be terrible at my job, sure, but that might lend itself to explaining what at all he does; no, that's not acceptable. Might as well have something akin to the truth up front, even if all his truths are genuinely awful.

[attentionseeking]

Undeterred, Gilly moves her hand - a single dose of a tonic for wakefulness, dangerous in large quantities due to being so effective by borrowing against the body's own energy. (In other words, sustained use without breaks is potentially fatal; magic like hers tends to rely on the practicality of its user.)

“Or is third time going to be the charm, huh?”