(no subject)

[alan_shore]

Who: Alan Shore and some brave souls
What: A day in the life.
Where: Everywhere. (The El, Flyside, Aspic, the locale of your choice.)
When: Sukkardi
Notes: Format essentially stolen from Samm. Except for the part where I can't get that box thing to work.
Warnings: Smugness. Legalese. Gratuitous discussion of pie, probably.

Tag into one of the threads below or devise a scenario of your choosing.

Comments

A shop, Flyside

[alan_shore]

Few shops in Flyside maintain regular hours—the shopkeepers, many of them inventors, seem compelled to invent their own from day to day. If one's able to forgive the occasional frustration (and Alan is), it's rather charming, this practice of conducting business as the mood strikes. As though commerce should be as much a matter of inspiration as anything else.

At this particular hour of this particular afternoon, this particular shop—it sits comfortably on a somewhat secluded corner, two narrow windows peering out at the street—is open, and a table laden with curiosities (from brain-teasing puzzles to discarded prototypes to things that are just plain broken—good luck telling the difference) has been set outside to lure in or, barring that, confound passers-by. No bell jangles to announce Alan's entrance; instead, a mechanical insect takes to the air and loops once around his head. Ducking (a habit he can't quite shake), Alan calls out a hello and doesn't hesitate to begin browsing. The shop's owner is, if not a friend, an esteemed acquaintance and lively conversationalist.

[wingaaardium.livejournal.com]

Brain teasers? Puzzles? Mysterious contraptions?

Of course Hermione is in here. She glances up when Alan comes in and gives him a polite, blank of smile, but aside from that pays little attention; instead, she returns quickly to studying some kind of sphere made of fine silver wire, with little coloured glass beads strung along it. She's not sure exactly what it is, but it might well be the distant cousin of a Rubik's cube. She's certainly treating it as a puzzle, leaning down to where it sits and reaching out to gingerly shift a red bead along a wire.

At which point it clamps down on her fingertip, and she pulls her hand swiftly free with a slight gasp- "Ow!" -before glaring disapprovingly at the contraption.

[alan_shore]

The shop being what it is, Alan doesn't begrudge Hermione her abstracted air--he simply smiles in return and proceeds to let fancy lead him where it will. He's peering into a kaleidoscope--a handsome, slim wood number poised between a pair of clawlike supports--when she cries out. With a quick jerk of his head, he looks up. His feet carry him a few instinctive steps toward her before reason prevails over surprise and concern.

“Don't tell me it bites,” he says, his smile tentative. “Are you all right?”