Feelin' strange 'bout my rider, babe, I'm booked and I got to go

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Who: Njoki + YOU + ??? = PROFIT
What: Slice of life stuff, mostly business about town.
Where: Mafaton, Sobek Croix, or in herbal/magic supply shops about town.
When:
Notes:Pick your poison and label your thread:
Option A: Call or come by her apartment. Does your character need some conjure done?
Option B: Njoki has set up an appointment to chat with Hellsing. Does she meet your character while waiting?
Option C: Ki doesn't have her own garden, so she's out and about to restock her supplies.

As much as fixing up Pickman's rotting feet was for her peace of mind (and sense of smell), the repair job also served as a brilliant bit of self-promotion. Word is slowly getting out that there's a rootworker who specializes in the dead, undead, and not entirely living living in Mafaton, up above a consignment store. The door up to the apartment she shares with Pickman has been marked out by a sign in the same style as her business card and a small, metal and glass tube nailed into the lintel.

Should anyone come to visit, phoning first is recommended, but the door is almost always unlocked. The staircase is a narrow, twisting affair leading up into a modestly sized livingroom with walls lined in shelves made from cinderblocks and wooden planks holding little glass bottles of different colours filled with herbs, roots, beads and bones, wooden boxes with paper envelopes and sachets of powers and washes, a whole collection of candles of different weights and sizes, and other objects of her trade. During the day, that the room is sparse, not yet fully lived in is highlighted by the airy open windows framed by blackout curtains, and during the evening the open windows manage to bring in a pleasant breeze.

Upon arriving in Baedal, Njoki was fortunate enough to have brought along her well-stocked hoodoo kit and after the sale of a portion of some of those items and her letter back home, she's now able to afford to go explore the local botanicas, herbalist, and certain dealers of (not quite) ill-repute. In between visits to various shops, she's made an appointment to stop by Hellsing and hear a little bit more about who they are, what they do, and what she can do for them. While their people seemed plenty pleasant at The Apache, she still doesn't trust them.

Comments

Option C is for Cookie

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan is still trying to decide what to do about a job. The fact is, as much as he still thinks of himself as a prisoner, he's going to need a way to earn rent money soon. There's always the employment office, but he'd like to at least have some idea of what he wants before he goes there. He's married to his job back home, but things are complicated here.

In the meantime, he's wandering through neighborhoods, trying to keep an ear to the ground and see what rumors are circulating. His manner and his hat don't exactly make him inconspicuous, but he mainly looks too well-contained to mess with.

He's a browser, clearly out of place (but respectful) most everywhere her goes.

That's good enough for me! :9

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Coming out of one of the stores and looking a little less than pleased, Njoki stops off to scribble a few remarks in a small notebook. As she's writing one of the staff steps outside and 'politely' reminds her that if she's new, which she clearly is, that it's a good idea to check the glass around the doorway for sigils. You see? That one right there? What they sell is not for her.

"Mmhmm, got it."

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan catches the end of the exchange and pushes his hat back a little, considering. "Guess the customer ain't always right in this neighborhood." He's disinclined to go into a store that ejects patrons that way, on principle.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"Apparently not," she says putting away her notebook and looking as if she's halfway considering giving the owner the finger or not. "It was all going so well until I asked if they deliver."

[toooldforlosing]

"That doesn't seem so odd. You mind if I ask what they would have been deliverin'?"

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"Mostly candles, some jars. It wasn't the merchandise, but the location." Njoki settles on sneering at the store before turning to Raylan with a less toothy smile and offering a handshake.

"Ki Rainmaker, out in Mafaton."

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan takes the offered hand. "Raylan Givens. I'm in Mog's Hill, for now." All of Baedal is "for now" if he has any say. "Nice to meet you."

Option B for Broromir.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

When Njoki decides to stop by Hellsing, she'll find Boromir at the Guild Hall, going between places and generally busying about (after all, he has a fair share of new duties to attend to since his promotion).

Still, he's nothing if not polite, and when he recognises an unfamiliar face he stops to change that. "Hello."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"Allô," she says, closing up the book she had been reading and putting it aside. Surely there's bound some little sitting area for new arrivals populated by a few chairs and a collection of National Geographic magazines from the 1960s. Even in Baedal, there are still a few universal constants.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

There is such a thing, and decorated to suit the interior of the building, no less. He is also going to gather that Ki has an appointment, since it's doubtful she would have gotten through the front door otherwise.

"I hope you're not being kept long? I'm Boromir, one of the senior field agents."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"Pleasure, Boromir, I'm Njoki and no, not long." And if she was, she's in no real hurry to go anywhere else today.

When she stands to offer a hand to shake, Boromir might be able to notice that she moves easily and seems confident. He's also welcome to notice the edges of some extensive scarification peeking out from her shirt sleeves.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

He's lived long enough in Baedel to realise that there is a vast array of customs and appearances, many of which are different from Middle Earth. If they had met when he first came here, he probably would have stared a little too-long at Njoki's scarification and masculine appearance. Fortunately he's learnt to get over that.

"In that case, I was going to get a cup of coffee from the kitchen, if you'd like something while you wait?"

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"I'd love a cup, thanks." If he had stared a bit, she wouldn't have been offended. Njoki knows that her appearance is not the norm for most woman and she's comfortable with that.

"But, if we've got to to wandering, to wherever the kitchen is, I oughta leave word with the desk here."

C is also for Cantankerous

[inkdamage]

There are pros and cons to going into business via a third party; Severus hates not taking credit for his work, and hates not being recognized where he should be, but it's much safer and more effective, like this. At least two Death Eaters are in this city, one of which (by the pain in his arm) sounds very powerful and very angry, and he's fairly certain he knows who it is. Having no desire to mingle with his peers, Severus is, for now, remaining a silent partner in someone else's enterprise.

Beyond his pride, however, there are other annoyances. Case in point, no one taking him seriously when he's trying to sort out supplies. This is the third merchant trying to rip him off, and the black-haired man is already seething silently, staring into a tray of poorly filtered onyx powder, listening not to the people around him but his own internal mantra against murder.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Most of the suppliers Njoki has gone to talk to are at least somewhat reasonable, if not always all that helpful. She's learned to state outright that she's working from Mafaton, which usually clears out about a third of the suppliers who are unwilling to deal with any sort of magic user from 'that sort of area' who likely caters to 'that sort of customer'.

"I appreciate that you're one of the few suppliers for Van Van oil, but I want to see it before I buy. I want to smell it. I want, and I don't think it's unreasonable, to see, and smell, and touch what you're selling for black cat bones." Njoki doesn't sound exasperated, but she is firm and serious. "I need to know if I have to adjust ratios. If your five-finger grass is what it is and not five-finger root. That's fair, isn't it?"

[inkdamage]

Fortunately for everyone involved, Severus is either not quite equipped to spot shape-shifters not of his world, or he's dulled his immediate subconscious reaction to them (that reaction being terror and loathing to the extreme, thanks Marauders!), and so when his attention drifts over to the woman haggling nearby, it's purely because he's interested in if anyone else is getting less of a run around.

Apparently not.

With one pale finger extended towards the feline-appearing bones, he announces dully: "Those aren't real."

This goes over about as well as expected.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

The shop clerk sputters a bit before launching into what sounds like a well-rehearsed patter about the quality of the merchandise they provide and that they stand behind what they sell and its effectiveness.

"I don't care if it's effective for people rattling bones around and using them for dice. I need cat. Not chicken, not rat, not whatever those are," she replies nodding after Snape has spoken and moving aside to make room for him to stand a little closer to whatever she's being shown. The man seems to know what he's talking about and he's not afraid to speak up.

[inkdamage]

"That sounds fascinatingly similar to what I was told about some low quality powder," he says, and while his voice is soft-spoken, there's a shadow of acidity to it, like he's had to work to keep himself from sounding aggressively angry all the time.

"It's stained with an enchanted ink." More pointing, even though the clerk jerks the items away. Severus gives him a look. "A careful counterfeit, I imagine it works in hex bags but little more."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"Mmhmm." Njoki clucks her tongue and looks from the tray and then back up to the clerk. "See, if I was just doing hexes and hands with them, it'd be fine, but I do a lot of healing. For some very old, very undead gentlemen and, well, if something were to go wrong with that because of 'faulty equipment' I'd get it taken out of my own hide."

A pause.

"And, well, I am a good woman and I believe in accepting, but also sharing the blame and burden."

Another pause.

"Do you have any actual black cat bones?"

Hope you're not too burned out on Option C!

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

While Charles isn't exactly a botanist, that doesn't mean he has no interest in plant life. In fact, his goal for the day is to buy some kind of plant to spruce up his room at the inn. It's nice enough, but if he's going to stay a while the place needs a bit more life. He exits a shop looking quite pleased and carrying a flower box to place at his window.

And then he sees Njoki along the same street. She seems to be running her own errands, but that doesn't stop him from saying hello. He walks up beside her, smiling in greeting. "Well, hello again."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"Hey yourself. How're you settling in?" Njoki gives him a looking over before she closes up her notebook and offers to shake hands. It's less about deciding if he's attractive and more about if he's human or not and a threat to her. "Ki Rainmaker, we didn't get around to names last time, eh?'

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"Terribly sorry about the lack of introduction." He shuffles the box to fit under an arm and extends his hand to her to give a firm shake. "Charles Xavier. I'm settling in comfortably, if a bit temporarily. I've decided to stay at the inn until I decide on something a bit more permanent. It's become familiar and I quite like to meet the arrivals who are even newer than I."

"Might I ask what you're out shopping for?" The question sounds far more curious than prying.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

What an odd sort of fellow. Njoki isn't quite sure what to make of him but gamely continues on to make small talk.

"I work in conjure, if you know it? And I need to find suppliers for herbs, candles, things like that." With his accent, she doesn't really expect him to know anything about rootwork.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"I don't know it, I'm afraid." He's not too proud to admit his levels of inexperience, but it does bother him a little to be out of his element.

"What is it you use the herbs and candles for?" It's a direct question but Charles is genuinely interested.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"It's a tradition of sympathetic magic -- like to like. Say, you've got someone you want to get out of your life, well you see someone like me, and I'd mix up a powder to put on their front porch, or your porch, or anywhere they'll walk over it. You use these," she says, gesturing to a bundle of dried chilies, "To give them a hot-foot. Blackpowder too, if you want them gone like a shot."