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capeandcowllogs2010-03-14 09:25 pm
endless-bitch.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-03-14 09:25 pm
Oh, we do not miss tea, dearie.
WHO: Beatrice, and OPEN.
WHERE: Madame Cleo's House of The Occult (under new management)
WHEN: Sunday afternoon.
WARNINGS: Nada!
SUMMARY: Beatrice is holding a tea party/open house thing to gather customers for the occult shop she just took over.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, whatever afterward.
It had been incredibly easy to obtain the shop, almost disappointingly so. All she'd had to do was teleport her way in here, create a believable enough mess and paint a semi-accurate magic circle from memory up on the wall. After that, when "Madame Cleo" saw her beloved store in shambles, the stupid woman immediately started apologizing to the "spirits" and shouting other nonsense. That had been enough to tell Beatrice she knew nothing of real magic. True ghosts never accepted apologies.
After she had appeared in front of her, Madame Cleo was so agreeable it was like taking candy from a baby. She even told her where the safe was. Beatrice was going to do something a little more theatrical then, maybe take the stakes out for a spin, but by that time the woman had run off so fast that there was no point. It was all very boring in Beato's eyes.
But, at least now she had a way to make money, and although she despised getting her hands dirty with anything that might be considered work, running the store had proven to be quite fun. She'd gotten rid of all the silly scarves lining the ceilings and the tacky light-up crystal balls that lit the store, and replaced them with some much more elegant decor: yellow-gold roses, some polished wood tables, and, for light, her golden butterflies, fluttering peaceably about the room. It was not quite the Golden Land, but for here, it was close enough to be a very pleasant atmosphere.
But, apparently, the customers hadn't agreed. In the week since she took the shop, only a few people had shown up to the store, and, to her chagrin, never bought a thing, not even a Tarot reading. So, in an effort to drum up business, and hopefully convince Madame Cleo's former customers that just because a witch took over the shop didn't mean the same things weren't sold there, she decided to hold a tea party, as an open house of sorts. After all, what better to convince others to come into a shop than the sweet aroma of black tea? And even if no one did buy anything today, it would be so fun to meet more of the fascinating humans that lived here.
So, with her typical elegance, she'd changed the dingy fortune-telling room into a tearoom, and had placed an invitational notecard, along with one of Madame Cleo's cheaper teacups, on a small table out front. Beatrice herself sat in the highest chair in the tearoom, teacakes and teapot at the ready.
WHERE: Madame Cleo's House of The Occult (under new management)
WHEN: Sunday afternoon.
WARNINGS: Nada!
SUMMARY: Beatrice is holding a tea party/open house thing to gather customers for the occult shop she just took over.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, whatever afterward.
It had been incredibly easy to obtain the shop, almost disappointingly so. All she'd had to do was teleport her way in here, create a believable enough mess and paint a semi-accurate magic circle from memory up on the wall. After that, when "Madame Cleo" saw her beloved store in shambles, the stupid woman immediately started apologizing to the "spirits" and shouting other nonsense. That had been enough to tell Beatrice she knew nothing of real magic. True ghosts never accepted apologies.
After she had appeared in front of her, Madame Cleo was so agreeable it was like taking candy from a baby. She even told her where the safe was. Beatrice was going to do something a little more theatrical then, maybe take the stakes out for a spin, but by that time the woman had run off so fast that there was no point. It was all very boring in Beato's eyes.
But, at least now she had a way to make money, and although she despised getting her hands dirty with anything that might be considered work, running the store had proven to be quite fun. She'd gotten rid of all the silly scarves lining the ceilings and the tacky light-up crystal balls that lit the store, and replaced them with some much more elegant decor: yellow-gold roses, some polished wood tables, and, for light, her golden butterflies, fluttering peaceably about the room. It was not quite the Golden Land, but for here, it was close enough to be a very pleasant atmosphere.
But, apparently, the customers hadn't agreed. In the week since she took the shop, only a few people had shown up to the store, and, to her chagrin, never bought a thing, not even a Tarot reading. So, in an effort to drum up business, and hopefully convince Madame Cleo's former customers that just because a witch took over the shop didn't mean the same things weren't sold there, she decided to hold a tea party, as an open house of sorts. After all, what better to convince others to come into a shop than the sweet aroma of black tea? And even if no one did buy anything today, it would be so fun to meet more of the fascinating humans that lived here.
So, with her typical elegance, she'd changed the dingy fortune-telling room into a tearoom, and had placed an invitational notecard, along with one of Madame Cleo's cheaper teacups, on a small table out front. Beatrice herself sat in the highest chair in the tearoom, teacakes and teapot at the ready.
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Lyra nodded politely. "If you want to call it that," she said, setting the teacup down and conjuring an illusion- a moth, translucent and glowing, the color of moonlight that fluttered around Lyra's head before fading as Lyra lifted her teacup and took a sip of tea.
"This is good, really."
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"You think so?" she asked. "I have a servant that can make it much better, but he's quite far away now I'm afraid."
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"Funny... Most people here don't have servants... Not like back in our own world," she added, taking another sip of the tea.
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She let a hand rest on Pantalaimon's head as the two of them looked up at the woman.
"Those butterflies... Are they real, or just an illusion, like the moth I showed you?"
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"But your butterflies... even if they're kind of frightening, they're beautiful," Lyra said, taking another sip of tea.
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Both girl and daemon bowed their heads politely, before taking another sip of tea.
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"I am Beatrice," she said. "Now, you say he's a daemon, yes? Is he a sort of familiar to you, then?"
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"It's how we were born. Everyone from our world is like us," Lyra said, leaning forward slightly.
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"So, in your world, everyone is born with a bit of magic?"
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"Do you have a daemon... Or some kind of familiar?"
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In truth, they were often the only form she was allowed to take, and at times she suspected they were her true form. But this girl did not need to know that.
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"Well, it says I'm very beautiful, don't you think?"
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