Alex, Pam and Gilmore | Yorkland, Day 2
Nov. 27th, 2018 08:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainTwo genasi meet in the marketplace - and go shopping at Gilmore's.
Despite all her resolutions to the contrary, Pam left the Robicheaux mansion feeling - well, hopeful might be a big strong. But not hopeless, at least. Granted, she still believed that Billy's current patron would laugh in his face when he asked him to help her, but she was willing to acknowledge that there was a slim possibility that he might be right.
And if he was...
Human. She could hardly remember what that had felt like. What's she'd done, other than train. With that in mind, she found herself floating over the marketplace, watching the people, wondering what they were doing, what they were thinking. Whether or not they had any idea how lucky they were.
A blond young man at one of the stands caught her attention, and she floated down to hover behind him, then, for no reason she could really determine, followed him from one to the next, invisible and intangible as the breeze that made the stall's banners flutter. There wasn't any harm in it, after all. It wasn't as if he'd even know she was there.
It was just so utterly typical that Alex would be sent to the markets of Yorktown with a pouch of gold and a long list of necessary items for the day-to-day business of the Slayers' Take--potions and trail rations, climbing gear and waterproof leathers, and other necessities of day-to-day adventuring--that he could hardly even be exasperated anymore. His brother, he suspected, had a hand in keeping him away from open contracts and constantly running errands, but it didn't help that Tessa was always so quick to side with Scott. She wasn't the leader of the Take, but she ran its everyday operations with an iron fist, and as far as Alex knew nobody ever questioned or gainsayed her instructions.
That probably had something to do with the fact that she also controlled the Take's purse-strings. There weren't many who could argue with the woman in charge of distributing the coin.
And so, Alex grudgingly stalked from one stall to the next, sullenly crossing items off his assigned shopping list. From time to time, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of ... something, just at the edge of his vision, but every time he tried to turn to get a better look at it, it was gone. He was beginning to think he might just be imagining things--but, just in case, he decided to duck down a side alley suddenly, kicking up a shoe-full of dust into the air behind him. Just in case.
If she'd been asked (but at the end of the day, who was there who would ask?), Pam couldn't have said why she was following the boy on his errands. Maybe, she told herself, it was just boredom. With the Guild in shambles, she was without a master for the first time in years, and had unaccustomed free time. Maybe it was a distraction from her conversation with Billy earlier. Or maybe...
Her musings cut off abruptly as their subject made a quick turn into an alley, kicking up a cloud of dust that flew up into the air - and then paused there as it caught in the air molecules that constituted her rather than the atmosphere around her. Busted. "Rude," she said without coalescing into anything more visible.
"I'm rude?" Alex protested, scowling, and clutching his bag of supplies closer to his side. "You're the one that's been following me! And how was I supposed to know you weren't an Invisible Stalker or a Rakshasa or something? I didn't know you were a, uh," he looked at the outline in the air created by the dust, and blushed faintly, "a girl."
He shuffled his feet uneasily. "I've never seen a Djinni before. Sorry I kicked dirt on you."
Pam looked down at herself, surprised that she'd apparently pulled herself together into some kind of form. A visible-ish one, given the amount of dust hanging in the air. She dispersed enough to let it fall to the ground, then coalesced until she was faintly visible in the alley's dim light. Ghost-like, she hovered there, her "feet" not touching the ground. "It's okay," she said distractedly, still taken aback that he'd realized she was present. "I didn't figure you'd know I was there. Hardly anyone ever does."
"I have good senses for that kind of thing," he told her, not so much bragging as explaining. Alex held up a hand, and a bright gout of something that looked like fire--if oddly-colored fire--sprang up from the center of his palm. "They tell me one of my ancestors was an Efreet. I don't know how much I buy that story, personally, but it was enough to make me interested. I've never met a for-real elemental before."
"Still haven't," Pam admitted as she watched the fire flame up in his hand with interest. "I started out human, or mostly. That's a nice trick."
"Closer than me," Alex grinned. "And thanks. All the wizards I know kind of hate it, since they have to study and train for years before they can do anything that simple. But it comes in handy, out in the field." When they actually let him go out in the field, anyway. He gave her a curious look. "Somebody made you a Djinni? How is that even possible?"
With a spell?" Pam shrugged and held up her hands to show the heavy braclets that encircled her wrists. "Pretty sure they got the bracelets from an actual Djinni to do it, but I really don't know. Anyway, whatever. What do you mean, out in the field?"
He eyed the bracelets--really more like decorative bracers than jewelry--with more than a little interest before he forced his mind back to her question. "I'm a member of the Take," Alex told her, pulling down the collar of his shirt to show the characteristic brand all members received on their initiation at the base of his neck. "We take contracts on monsters or bandits or whatever, harvest parts for wizards or help local militia keep the peace--whatever's paying, you know? Though right now," he glanced ruefully at the heavy bag of supplies slung around his neck, "I'm just out doing drudge work."
"I saw." Pam smirked. "At least that explains all the shopping. I was starting to think you were going to buy out the market. I've heard of the Take; I had a contract on one of their members once."
Alex's hair flickered--an effect less like the result of the scant breeze moving through the alley, and more like a suddenly-agitated campfire. He kept his composure as best he could, though, even if he hugged the leather rucksack a little closer. "The Assassin's Guild has been officially disbanded by the Lords of Yorkland," he said, trying to sound casual. Presumably, that edict had been at least tacitly endorsed by the Sorcerer King, Kulan Gath--had it not, he had no doubt whatsoever that a number of the ruling families would have been burned out of existence, by now. "I would be careful about mentioning that kind of thing too casually."
"Because you can do what to me?" Pam's eyebrows rose, more because of what he'd said than the way his hair looked as if it had caught on fire. The latter was cool, the former, so far as she was aware, impossible. "Kill me? Go for it. If you can figure out how, I'd be fine with that." She shrugged. "Anyway, someone will take over the Guild, eventually. It's just a question of who and when."
He raised his hands in a gesture that was simultaneously defensive and placating. "Hey, I don't go looking for trouble unless I'm getting paid for it--work is work, as far as I care. But the Take has it's share of White Knights and rep-chasers, too, who might take that kind of thing personally." Alex shrugged, and lowered his hands again. "Anyway, you're probably right; the clampdown will end as soon as Lord Fancybreeches or Lady Highhair decide they want to pay somebody to knife some other frou-frou Somebody. That's how nobles operate, right? Whatever's convenient for them at the moment. I doubt you'll have to wait all that long, the way this town goes."
"Yeah, someone'll grab control of things soon," Pam agreed, though anyone would have been hard pressed to find any enthusiasm in her voice. "Tried to talk a friend of mine into it - I mean, if I'm going to be someone's pet, it might as well be someone I like, at least - but he's busy with some scheme of his own."
"You don't really sound excited about it," he ventured cautiously. "Why don't you try something else, if being an assassin is played out? I'm pretty sure there's lots of stuff an invisible wind-girl could do, if she wanted to."
"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" Pam gave him a dirty look. "Oh, right. Because it's not an option."
"Why not?" Alex asked, more curious than challenging. "Sure, it's only a matter of time before the Guild revives, in some form. But it doesn't exist now. Why not find something else to do, in the meantime? You might decide you like it better."
"Because it doesn't matter if I find something I like better," Pam retorted. "As soon as someone takes over, they're going to call me back anyway, and I'm going to have to go. I don't have a choice." Which in a way was the worst thing they'd done to her, and probably the reason she was as pissed at Billy as she was. He could walk away, if he could survive the attempt. She couldn't. Ever.
"Oh." Alex considered that, then said, "Yeah, well, what about in the meantime? Nobody's calling you now, so why not find something to do other than following around random people in the marketplace? I bet we could find you some freelance work at the Take, if you were interested. It's not exactly the same as assassination, but a lot of the more significant principles seem like they'd carry over."
Pam shrugged. "I liked following you around the marketplace. Why should I work if I don't have to?" After all, it wasn't as if she needed the money.
"Well, if you like following people around the marketplace, you should absolutely keep doing that," he said. "I just meant that if you wanted to work, for the sake of keeping busy, that's one option. But if you'd rather just drift around, there's nothing wrong with that, either. Enjoy your vacation, for as long as it lasts. Right?"
"That was kinda the idea, yeah." For a moment, she debated telling him about what Billy'd said he'd get his patron to do, and why she'd felt a need to stop thinking about it, but the pushed that aside. It wasn't like it was going to happen; she really should just forget the whole thing. "So, you don't care if I keep following you?" she asked instead.
"Well, sure. You can keep following me around, if you want to." Alex shrugged, and resettled the large leather back over his shoulder. "I'm just running errands for the Take, though; I'm not sure how interesting it'll be for a Djinni assassin. And I've only got a couple more stops to make before I'm finished with the shopping list. I wouldn't mind the company, though."
Pam smiled, and floated down until her feet at least looked as if they were touching the ground. Or - well, they would have, were they not see-through, but it was a close as an approximation as she could manage. "Cool. What else do you need to get?"
Alex grinned, and pulled the list he'd been given out of his vest pocket. "Lessee ... Tessa wants two dozen whetstones, a half-dozen knives balanced for throwing, two shortswords, a greataxe, eight pounds of flower, a bag of potatoes, four empty wineskins, and all the healing potions I can find." He glanced up at her. "That's what's left on my list, anyway. Pretty straightforward, this time. Just need to pass by the weaponsmiths, a grocer I know, and the higher-end magical oddities places."
"You want Gilmore's," Pam said, gesturing towards the last item on the list. "He's got everything. How are you going to carry it all?"
"Oh, that's no problem," Alex told her, patting the heavy leather satchel at his side. "Tessa always requisitions me a Bag of Holding for outings like this. We can stuff pretty much anything we want into this thing." He gave her a sideways glance. "Which way is Gilmore's? I don't think I"ve ever been. At least, I don't remember, if I have."
"It's-" Pam paused, trying to remember how to get there when you actually had to travel along streets and around buildings. "South of here?" she guessed dubiously. "And west, a little. I'm not sure how to get there. It's down the road from the place that sells the pasties, though."
Alex reached for her hand, before belatedly remembering she wasn't entirely tangible. Still, he offered his best smile and said, "Lead the way."
Pam gave him an apologetic look and shrugged as his fingers passed through hers, but smiled back. And led the way.
A few wrong turns and some backtracking later, and they stood before Gilmore's Glorious Goods, an unprepossessing one story building in the marketplace with a sign featuring a unicorn-head. "Told you I could find it," Pam pointed out, though in truth it had been touch and go for a while.
"Never had a moment's doubt," Alex replied. That wasn't necessarily entirely honest of him to say, but it wasn't much of a lie, and it served the greater good. He studied the sign apprehensively for a moment; his older brother had made certain he had a least a basic grasp of letters, so he knew this was the right place. That unicorn made him strangely uncomfortable, though, for reasons he couldn't begin to put into words. Heaving a sigh, the blond teen hugged his rucksack closer, steeled himself, and pushed past the shop's heavy outer door.
Gilmore's Glorious Goods was only unassuming from the outside. Once past the door, customers were welcomed into a well-lit, colorful landscape of pale sandstone, warm dark wood, and draped fabric of midnight blue and purple. A faint scent of sweet cinnamon hung in the air, giving the entire place the hint of faraway lands and adventuresome locales. Shelves of clearly displayed, neatly-labeled items lined the walls, arranged according to need and function. Bottles and beakers, books and scrolls, amulets and rings -- and anything even mildly concerning locked safely behind clear glass. Directly opposite the front door was a polished wood counter, before a pair of locked display cases and a beaded curtain, presumably leading to some back room.
The shop was only quiet for half a breath as the two stepped (or floated?) inside. The beaded curtain swept aside with a chiming of tiny bells, revealing a tall, dark-skinned wizard with a tumble of black hair and a bright smile framed by a gold-threaded goatee. He was dressed in a swath of patterned purple robes edged with gold, jewels glinting in his ears. "Hello!" exclaimed the wizard warmly, in a rich, deep voice like melted sugar. "Welcome to Gilmore's Glorious Goods. You have already made an excellent decision today; how can I make your day a little more glorious?"
"Healing potions," Pam supplied, then looked away from the wizard (because with those robes, he had to be a wizard, right? No one else would wear them) and turned back towards the guy she'd come in with. "Anything else you're looking for, Flamehead?"
"Flamehead," Alex mouthed, his indignation giving him enough presence of mind to stop gawking at the flamboyantly-attired wizard and presumed proprietor of the shop. He shook his head and returned his attention to the grandiloquent person he presumed was the eponymous Gilmore. "Healing potions," he affirmed, nodding. "That's the only thing on my list that I might be able to find at a magic shop. Though, if you don't mind, we could maybe browse around a bit, and take back some suggestions for future purchases to the Take--Tessa usually needs all kinds of things, and she's always looking out for reliable suppliers."
Gilmore clapped his hands together once, lightly, then opened them to indicate the entire shop. "But of course! Look around, browse to your hearts' content. Take a look, take a sniff, nothing's dangerous. I have protections, enhancements, scrolls... I even have one of those special rucksacks you adventurers just seem to love," Gilmore intoned. He bent down behind the counter briefly, then straightened up again, this time bearing a wooden crate with section slats that rattled lightly with its collection of glass bottles and phials. "And, when you're ready..."
This time, when his hands swirled above the crate of potions, perhaps one might catch the faintest trace of golden glitter that followed the trace of Gilmore's fingers.
Pam nodded, admiring the glitter effect, and smiled at the wizard before turning her attention back to its original focus. "Flamehead. It's not like I know your name," she pointed out as she floated over to a nearby display. "Gotta call you something. Though I guess I could go with Monster Slayer or something instead, if you'd prefer that?"
"Alex," he told her, just a touch absently as he began to gawk at the crate full of magical potions. He had never seen so many in one place! "My name is Alex."
His wide eyes turned toward her, and he stopped himself short from reaching for her hands, excitement obvious. "This is fantastic! I've never seen so many in one place before! Normally, I go back to the Take with two or three, tops, after scavenging the market for hours." His enthusiasm then turned toward the apparent proprietor. "How much? And what's your turnover time for brewing new ones? Tessa's going to go barmy when I tell her about this place!" Well. Not really. But she would be pleased, and that was always a good thing. "I hope I've got enough in my budget ..." he added with an uncertain look at the rucksack slung over his shoulder.
Ah, now his customer was interested. Gilmore's very white grin broadened. "You've caught me with a fresh new supply. I have three of the most basic variety for fifty apiece, three more potent for one hundred fifty, and one glorious specimen of a very rare vintage indeed, which we would... need to discuss. Additionally, I have a few other little delicacies one might find useful in a variety of exciting situations, should you be interested."
He withdrew the healing potions first, which gleamed a rich raspberry color in their vials rather than the typical crimson red -- their creator's glorious influence, obviously. Three small vials, three slightly larger pots, and a beautifully curved bottle for the so-called 'rare vintage.' "These are among my most popular stock, but I do require, say, a fortnight to replenish."
Alex's excitement over the healing potions was kind of funny, so she smiled a response and kept an eye on him as he discussed details with the wizard, but said nothing. What was there to say? He knew what he wanted, and she...well, she seriously doubted even the wizard's special, pretty bottle would help someone who couldn't drink it.
Turning the wizard's answers over in his head, Alex reached deep into his satchel--much, much deeper than should have been possible, given its apparent dimensions--and eventually withdrew a tightly-bound canvas bag, which he hefted thoughtfully. "That would pretty much clean me out," he said, thinking out loud more than actually trying to hold up his end of the conversation. "But potions are always worth it, when you can find them." And finding a place that produced them on a regular basis? Not having to scrounge through the entire marketplace in the hope that somebody would have traded one or two off the last merchant ship to call? That was probably worth even more than four hundred fifty gold to the Take. To say nothing else of what other Glorious Goods this Gilmore might have to offer.
He looked at Pam suddenly. "What do you think? I can probably get more gold from Tessa later to finish the rest of the shopping list, and the other guild members would probably stake me out in a field to die from exposure if I missed out on these." Still. It was a lot of coin for a single purchase--coin that wasn't technically his own. For that reason alone, Alex found himself hesitating.
"I think he can cut you a better deal if you're buying that much," Pam said, seeing as she'd been asked. She turned to the wizard and raised her eyebrows - or looked as if she was, at any rate. She wasn't an expert at bargaining by any means, but she'd hung around the market on and off for years. It was always worth a shot. It wasn't like the wizard was likely to increase the price.
"He's from the Slayer's Take," she pointed out. "They have to go through a fuckload of healing potions if he's that excited about finding a half dozen in one place, not to mention all the other shit monster hunters carry with them. They obviously don't have anyone they're buying the shit from, so if you give him a deal, he'll be back. Often, seeing as he seems to be the designated shopper or something. Fuck, they could probably cut you a counter-deal on potion ingredients, seeing as they're probably the ones bringing them in. IF you give them a good reason to."
While the semi-translucent young lady talked, Gilmore settled his elbows on the counter, laced his fingers into a gilded weave, and rested his chin there. His smile did not falter in the least, but he lapsed into silence, waiting for the two of them to explain his business to one another. How simply charming, really.
Once the conversation paused and they'd both turned back to look at him, he fluttered his lashes at them and chuckled good-naturedly, "No, please, continue to tell me about all the fabulous bargains I'm about to offer you." Then, to Alex, because he was clearly the one with the money, Gilmore added, "If you really want all of the healing draughts, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement, but the recipe I use is absolutely top-secret. I'm happy to contract with a regular supply, especially if all of the Take's agents are so utterly darling."
Alex scratched thoughtfully at his cheek. "I don't know if 'darling' is the right word, exactly." Or if he loved the idea of that word being applied to him by a virtual stranger. Still, this was already one of the most personable wizards he had ever met, and, eccentricities aside, he generally felt pretty good about the impression he got from this purple-robed magician. "'Rugged' might be better for most of them. Though there are a few who are out-and-out hot, too."
He began sifting through his coins. "Lemme figure out how much I can get with what I have left," he murmured, his attention divided. "Then we can go from there? If you're serious about doing a deal, maybe, I should get word back to the Take. Nothing I say would be necessarily binding, otherwise, but I know who can make that kind of call. I'm sure they'd be interested in your other stuff, too."
His blue eyes darted toward Pam as he added, "Ingredients, though, that's a good thought. We mostly do contract work for specific parts of magical creatures and whatnot. Having a market for some of the surplus wouldn't be a terrible idea."
Okay, she recognized sarcasm when she heard it. Pam met the wizard's eyes and shrugged it off. She wasn't the one buying, and all she'd done is make a suggestion. If he didn't like it, whatever.
The sarcasm had apparently gone over Alex's head, though, and she watched him count his coin, then shrugged off the compliment. "Mention it to your boss," she suggested, then smirked. "You might want to leave off the part about who you got the idea from, though. Go ahead and just take credit."
Well, this lad was just too preciously solemn for words. Gilmore decided he would let the Slayer's Take representative haggle him down just a little bit on the potions. But only a little bit. Gilmore was running a business, not a charity. The young lady's comment did prompt him to inquire, "Who do I have the pleasure of doing business with today, by the way? I, as you may have surmised from the sign outside, am Gilmore." He bowed, with a flourish of one hand, from behind the counter.
Alex looked up at his companion with a frown. "I couldn't do that--it wouldn't be fair." He smirked lopsidedly. Besides, nobody would believe it. If good ideas were my wheelhouse, I wouldn't be out doing the weekly shopping."
As Gilmore introduced himself properly, Alex offered a nod in greeting. The wizard hadn't offered to shake hands, after all, and his were occupied piling coins on the counter, anyway. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Gilmore. I'm Alex Summers. I'm with the Take, like I mentioned--I joined up with my brother a few years back. He usually does more exciting stuff, though."
"I'm just along for the ride," Pam supplied, dodging the request for her name and went back to looking over the rest of the merchandise. Did she really even have one, anymore? Billy still called her Pam, yeah, but no one else had in years. Pam had been human, the only sign of her Djinn heritage a faint tint of blue to her skin and hair. Adolfo had taken to calling her Pet and referring to her as Fatale. But Adolo was dead, and neither of those were names she wanted to share with Alex anyway. Easier just to bow out of the meet and greet and let the other two talk.
"I'm sure you're perfectly thrilling in your own way, Master Summers," Gilmore assured him, lining up the potion vials as he glanced over Alex's funds. Quick mental calculations told him that full price for all six was not going to happen -- but a small compromise and the promise of future business might. Potions weren't exactly easy to make, and they sold very well, but the number of adventurers who could afford them were vanishingly small.
Besides, he had to keep a small amount on-hand for his very favorite adventurer. Gilmore's weakness for half-elves already cut into his profits.
"I can offer you all three of the basic and one of the potent vials for what you have there. Unless... unless you think the Take can provide me with a rakshasa fur." The wizard's black eyes fairly gleamed. "Then I might be able to part with this." His fingertips lit on the cork capping the superior potion in the elegantly-shaped bottle, and swirled around the rim of the glass, temptingly. Somehow the gesture managed to look downright sensual.
After taking a moment to consider that offer, Alex offered a nod that was only somewhat hesitant; Tessa would have to hammer out the actual contract, but he knew that the Take had been hired to hunt rakshasas in the past. Not exactly the easiest quarry, given the shape-shifting and the whole ... being fiends thing, but he'd heard of members taking down worse. For a chance at a stable supply of potions--and one of particularly high potency--he was almost certain the Take would agree.
That being said, it took all of his restraint not to shift uncomfortably as Gilmore fondled the bottle. He couldn't put his finger on why the otherwise-innocuous gesture made him feel kinda squirmy, but it did. Weird.
"I'll get you an answer in writing when I get back," he said. "But I don't think that'll be a problem. I haven't heard of any rakshasa prowling around the city," the Take would surely have been contracted to take the thing down by now, if there were, "but the wizards can probably think of something."
Gilmore gave a short, understanding nod. Alex had to answer to someone; the Slayer's Take was an organization, after all. "Then I'll keep this beauty set aside until I hear from you again," he offered, warm and musical. It hadn't escaped him that both of his customers seemed slightly uncomfortable with the way he toyed with the bottle. That was adorably amusing, but it wasn't quite conducive to good business. He patted the side of the bottle instead, then gestured to the four bottles he'd offered, quite grandly. "Do we have an agreement?"
"Absolutely," Alex affirmed, pushing the small pile of gold toward Gilmore, and offering a hand to seal the deal. "I'll head back, and find out just how far the Take's willing to go with this. I'll be back with an answer for you," and, quite possibly, another shopping list, and additional funds, "in an hour or two. I don't really think they're going to need to think this over too long--but it would be better to have something in black-and-white, and not just some nobody genasi's word."
Gilmore reached to shake on this deal, but immediately swept up Alex’s hand in both of his and squeezed it tightly. He met Alex’s gaze, his brown eyes warm but serious. “Nonsense, master Alex," said Gilmore with passionate certainty. "You are here and present and I see you. You are, undeniably, a somebody genasi, and I won’t hear otherwise.”
On the other side of a display, Pam rolled her eyes. By that definition, she was somebody, and she was pretty sure not. Still... "Also? I don't stalk nobodies around the market," she observed as she floated back towards where they were standing. "I have better taste than that."
The fierce blush that swept through Alex's cheeks may have been an indicator of his heritage, or simply a sign he was easily embarrassed. The unruly blond hair curling up from his scalp, however, betrayed elemental blood more certainly, with the individual locks beginning to flicker and coil like the flames of a well-fed bonfire. "Thanks," he managed, looking at Gilmore and his new friend in turn. "I, uh ... Thanks." Despite his obvious awkwardness, the gratitude in his tone was plain to hear. Who would have guessed that something as mundane as an afternoon of shopping in the market would turn out this amazing?
Alex's response drew a warm, satisfied smile from the boisterous wizard behind the counter. Gilmore could be a bit much, he knew, and he was well aware that other people did not always take him seriously. When it came to valuing oneself and speaking the truth of value in others, though, he was one hundred percent sincere. It warmed his heart that Alex took him at his word. As he released the genasi's hands, Gilmore added in a lighter tone, "Here at Gilmore's Glorious Goods, we strive to provide uplifting personal affirmations with every purchase. That is just how much your business means to us."
Yeeaaah, she definitely liked the bonfire hair thing. And the blushing. Pam's lips quirked in a small but genuine smile as the wizard gave his corny response. "So, you'd better go get your stuff signed off on so he gets more business and you get more upliftingness or whatever," she pointed out as she re-settled at Alex's side and brushed phantom fingers against his, leaving behind a faint sense of warmth. Besides, she was going to have to leave soon if she wanted to get back to Billy and his boytoy, and she wanted a few more minutes with Alex before she had to go.
"Thanks," Alex said again, for the third time, though he didn't seem to notice his lack of eloquence in the moment. He didn't have much experience with affirmations, in general, but this one had felt pretty good, for all that it had come from virtually a complete stranger. Over-the-top though he might have been, Gilmore also seemed like an unusually sincere person, and if nothing else, Alex figured he was a halfway-decent judge of character. Anyway, why would the wizard be yanking his chain? It wasn't as if he stood to gain anything by it.
"I appreciate it," he added, gathering up the potions he had paid for and tucking each one carefully into his haversack. "I'll be back as soon as I can to let you know about the other stuff." He glanced toward his semi-translucent shopping companion. "Coming?" he invited, nodding back toward the door.
"Coming," Pam confirmed. "Bye wizard." She followed Alex towards the door, her feet barely skimming the floor.
"You know where to find me," Gilmore sang out, fluttering his fingers at them as they went.
Alex offered another grateful nod and a wave as he turned and made his way back out into the marketplace. Once they were out on the muddy, snow-strewn street again, he gave a small whoop and turned to his new friend, holding the haversack out in front of him with near-reverence. "That was incredible!" he gushed, not seeming to notice the looks he earned from several passers-by. "I mean, I may have spent all the money I was given without getting half the supplies on my list, but I'm sure the Take will be happy with this find. Nobody's ever brought back this many potions at once before, not even after a job! I seriously owe you one."
Pam laughed and shook her head. "You don't owe me anything. Though I think I fucked myself over; if you're all out of money, you're done shopping, and I have to find myself some other way to kill time." Which actually was kind of disappointing. She'd been having a really good time.
"You could come back to the Take with me," he suggested. "I mean, you're not a member, but it's not like we never have guests. And it's not really as if anybody could stop you? Anyway, if I vouch for you, it'll be fine. We can drop off these potions and hang out for a bit while Tessa figures out what she wants to do. I wouldn't mind the company," Alex added, with a small, hopeful smile.
Surprised, Pam paused and stared for a moment, then hurried to catch up. "Yeah. I mean, that could be cool. I've gotta be somewhere in a while? But until then...yeah." She smiled crookedly. "You might want to skip vouching for me, though. Probably easier if I just go invisible. Like you said, there could be someone looking to make a name for themselves by offing the Guild Master's pet assassin."
"If that works better for you," he said, shrugging. "I don't think anybody would start any trouble in the Take's actual hall, but why take a chance? Once I get Tessa up to speed, we can hang out in my bunk until she sends me back out. Or you have to go do your thing. Fair warning--my bunk is super-cramped and drafty."
"Wow. Good thing I'm made of air and literally take up no space then, huh?" Pam teased. She grinned. "Better watch out, though. If it's that drafty? It'll be really easy to get into."
Despite all her resolutions to the contrary, Pam left the Robicheaux mansion feeling - well, hopeful might be a big strong. But not hopeless, at least. Granted, she still believed that Billy's current patron would laugh in his face when he asked him to help her, but she was willing to acknowledge that there was a slim possibility that he might be right.
And if he was...
Human. She could hardly remember what that had felt like. What's she'd done, other than train. With that in mind, she found herself floating over the marketplace, watching the people, wondering what they were doing, what they were thinking. Whether or not they had any idea how lucky they were.
A blond young man at one of the stands caught her attention, and she floated down to hover behind him, then, for no reason she could really determine, followed him from one to the next, invisible and intangible as the breeze that made the stall's banners flutter. There wasn't any harm in it, after all. It wasn't as if he'd even know she was there.
It was just so utterly typical that Alex would be sent to the markets of Yorktown with a pouch of gold and a long list of necessary items for the day-to-day business of the Slayers' Take--potions and trail rations, climbing gear and waterproof leathers, and other necessities of day-to-day adventuring--that he could hardly even be exasperated anymore. His brother, he suspected, had a hand in keeping him away from open contracts and constantly running errands, but it didn't help that Tessa was always so quick to side with Scott. She wasn't the leader of the Take, but she ran its everyday operations with an iron fist, and as far as Alex knew nobody ever questioned or gainsayed her instructions.
That probably had something to do with the fact that she also controlled the Take's purse-strings. There weren't many who could argue with the woman in charge of distributing the coin.
And so, Alex grudgingly stalked from one stall to the next, sullenly crossing items off his assigned shopping list. From time to time, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of ... something, just at the edge of his vision, but every time he tried to turn to get a better look at it, it was gone. He was beginning to think he might just be imagining things--but, just in case, he decided to duck down a side alley suddenly, kicking up a shoe-full of dust into the air behind him. Just in case.
If she'd been asked (but at the end of the day, who was there who would ask?), Pam couldn't have said why she was following the boy on his errands. Maybe, she told herself, it was just boredom. With the Guild in shambles, she was without a master for the first time in years, and had unaccustomed free time. Maybe it was a distraction from her conversation with Billy earlier. Or maybe...
Her musings cut off abruptly as their subject made a quick turn into an alley, kicking up a cloud of dust that flew up into the air - and then paused there as it caught in the air molecules that constituted her rather than the atmosphere around her. Busted. "Rude," she said without coalescing into anything more visible.
"I'm rude?" Alex protested, scowling, and clutching his bag of supplies closer to his side. "You're the one that's been following me! And how was I supposed to know you weren't an Invisible Stalker or a Rakshasa or something? I didn't know you were a, uh," he looked at the outline in the air created by the dust, and blushed faintly, "a girl."
He shuffled his feet uneasily. "I've never seen a Djinni before. Sorry I kicked dirt on you."
Pam looked down at herself, surprised that she'd apparently pulled herself together into some kind of form. A visible-ish one, given the amount of dust hanging in the air. She dispersed enough to let it fall to the ground, then coalesced until she was faintly visible in the alley's dim light. Ghost-like, she hovered there, her "feet" not touching the ground. "It's okay," she said distractedly, still taken aback that he'd realized she was present. "I didn't figure you'd know I was there. Hardly anyone ever does."
"I have good senses for that kind of thing," he told her, not so much bragging as explaining. Alex held up a hand, and a bright gout of something that looked like fire--if oddly-colored fire--sprang up from the center of his palm. "They tell me one of my ancestors was an Efreet. I don't know how much I buy that story, personally, but it was enough to make me interested. I've never met a for-real elemental before."
"Still haven't," Pam admitted as she watched the fire flame up in his hand with interest. "I started out human, or mostly. That's a nice trick."
"Closer than me," Alex grinned. "And thanks. All the wizards I know kind of hate it, since they have to study and train for years before they can do anything that simple. But it comes in handy, out in the field." When they actually let him go out in the field, anyway. He gave her a curious look. "Somebody made you a Djinni? How is that even possible?"
With a spell?" Pam shrugged and held up her hands to show the heavy braclets that encircled her wrists. "Pretty sure they got the bracelets from an actual Djinni to do it, but I really don't know. Anyway, whatever. What do you mean, out in the field?"
He eyed the bracelets--really more like decorative bracers than jewelry--with more than a little interest before he forced his mind back to her question. "I'm a member of the Take," Alex told her, pulling down the collar of his shirt to show the characteristic brand all members received on their initiation at the base of his neck. "We take contracts on monsters or bandits or whatever, harvest parts for wizards or help local militia keep the peace--whatever's paying, you know? Though right now," he glanced ruefully at the heavy bag of supplies slung around his neck, "I'm just out doing drudge work."
"I saw." Pam smirked. "At least that explains all the shopping. I was starting to think you were going to buy out the market. I've heard of the Take; I had a contract on one of their members once."
Alex's hair flickered--an effect less like the result of the scant breeze moving through the alley, and more like a suddenly-agitated campfire. He kept his composure as best he could, though, even if he hugged the leather rucksack a little closer. "The Assassin's Guild has been officially disbanded by the Lords of Yorkland," he said, trying to sound casual. Presumably, that edict had been at least tacitly endorsed by the Sorcerer King, Kulan Gath--had it not, he had no doubt whatsoever that a number of the ruling families would have been burned out of existence, by now. "I would be careful about mentioning that kind of thing too casually."
"Because you can do what to me?" Pam's eyebrows rose, more because of what he'd said than the way his hair looked as if it had caught on fire. The latter was cool, the former, so far as she was aware, impossible. "Kill me? Go for it. If you can figure out how, I'd be fine with that." She shrugged. "Anyway, someone will take over the Guild, eventually. It's just a question of who and when."
He raised his hands in a gesture that was simultaneously defensive and placating. "Hey, I don't go looking for trouble unless I'm getting paid for it--work is work, as far as I care. But the Take has it's share of White Knights and rep-chasers, too, who might take that kind of thing personally." Alex shrugged, and lowered his hands again. "Anyway, you're probably right; the clampdown will end as soon as Lord Fancybreeches or Lady Highhair decide they want to pay somebody to knife some other frou-frou Somebody. That's how nobles operate, right? Whatever's convenient for them at the moment. I doubt you'll have to wait all that long, the way this town goes."
"Yeah, someone'll grab control of things soon," Pam agreed, though anyone would have been hard pressed to find any enthusiasm in her voice. "Tried to talk a friend of mine into it - I mean, if I'm going to be someone's pet, it might as well be someone I like, at least - but he's busy with some scheme of his own."
"You don't really sound excited about it," he ventured cautiously. "Why don't you try something else, if being an assassin is played out? I'm pretty sure there's lots of stuff an invisible wind-girl could do, if she wanted to."
"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" Pam gave him a dirty look. "Oh, right. Because it's not an option."
"Why not?" Alex asked, more curious than challenging. "Sure, it's only a matter of time before the Guild revives, in some form. But it doesn't exist now. Why not find something else to do, in the meantime? You might decide you like it better."
"Because it doesn't matter if I find something I like better," Pam retorted. "As soon as someone takes over, they're going to call me back anyway, and I'm going to have to go. I don't have a choice." Which in a way was the worst thing they'd done to her, and probably the reason she was as pissed at Billy as she was. He could walk away, if he could survive the attempt. She couldn't. Ever.
"Oh." Alex considered that, then said, "Yeah, well, what about in the meantime? Nobody's calling you now, so why not find something to do other than following around random people in the marketplace? I bet we could find you some freelance work at the Take, if you were interested. It's not exactly the same as assassination, but a lot of the more significant principles seem like they'd carry over."
Pam shrugged. "I liked following you around the marketplace. Why should I work if I don't have to?" After all, it wasn't as if she needed the money.
"Well, if you like following people around the marketplace, you should absolutely keep doing that," he said. "I just meant that if you wanted to work, for the sake of keeping busy, that's one option. But if you'd rather just drift around, there's nothing wrong with that, either. Enjoy your vacation, for as long as it lasts. Right?"
"That was kinda the idea, yeah." For a moment, she debated telling him about what Billy'd said he'd get his patron to do, and why she'd felt a need to stop thinking about it, but the pushed that aside. It wasn't like it was going to happen; she really should just forget the whole thing. "So, you don't care if I keep following you?" she asked instead.
"Well, sure. You can keep following me around, if you want to." Alex shrugged, and resettled the large leather back over his shoulder. "I'm just running errands for the Take, though; I'm not sure how interesting it'll be for a Djinni assassin. And I've only got a couple more stops to make before I'm finished with the shopping list. I wouldn't mind the company, though."
Pam smiled, and floated down until her feet at least looked as if they were touching the ground. Or - well, they would have, were they not see-through, but it was a close as an approximation as she could manage. "Cool. What else do you need to get?"
Alex grinned, and pulled the list he'd been given out of his vest pocket. "Lessee ... Tessa wants two dozen whetstones, a half-dozen knives balanced for throwing, two shortswords, a greataxe, eight pounds of flower, a bag of potatoes, four empty wineskins, and all the healing potions I can find." He glanced up at her. "That's what's left on my list, anyway. Pretty straightforward, this time. Just need to pass by the weaponsmiths, a grocer I know, and the higher-end magical oddities places."
"You want Gilmore's," Pam said, gesturing towards the last item on the list. "He's got everything. How are you going to carry it all?"
"Oh, that's no problem," Alex told her, patting the heavy leather satchel at his side. "Tessa always requisitions me a Bag of Holding for outings like this. We can stuff pretty much anything we want into this thing." He gave her a sideways glance. "Which way is Gilmore's? I don't think I"ve ever been. At least, I don't remember, if I have."
"It's-" Pam paused, trying to remember how to get there when you actually had to travel along streets and around buildings. "South of here?" she guessed dubiously. "And west, a little. I'm not sure how to get there. It's down the road from the place that sells the pasties, though."
Alex reached for her hand, before belatedly remembering she wasn't entirely tangible. Still, he offered his best smile and said, "Lead the way."
Pam gave him an apologetic look and shrugged as his fingers passed through hers, but smiled back. And led the way.
A few wrong turns and some backtracking later, and they stood before Gilmore's Glorious Goods, an unprepossessing one story building in the marketplace with a sign featuring a unicorn-head. "Told you I could find it," Pam pointed out, though in truth it had been touch and go for a while.
"Never had a moment's doubt," Alex replied. That wasn't necessarily entirely honest of him to say, but it wasn't much of a lie, and it served the greater good. He studied the sign apprehensively for a moment; his older brother had made certain he had a least a basic grasp of letters, so he knew this was the right place. That unicorn made him strangely uncomfortable, though, for reasons he couldn't begin to put into words. Heaving a sigh, the blond teen hugged his rucksack closer, steeled himself, and pushed past the shop's heavy outer door.
Gilmore's Glorious Goods was only unassuming from the outside. Once past the door, customers were welcomed into a well-lit, colorful landscape of pale sandstone, warm dark wood, and draped fabric of midnight blue and purple. A faint scent of sweet cinnamon hung in the air, giving the entire place the hint of faraway lands and adventuresome locales. Shelves of clearly displayed, neatly-labeled items lined the walls, arranged according to need and function. Bottles and beakers, books and scrolls, amulets and rings -- and anything even mildly concerning locked safely behind clear glass. Directly opposite the front door was a polished wood counter, before a pair of locked display cases and a beaded curtain, presumably leading to some back room.
The shop was only quiet for half a breath as the two stepped (or floated?) inside. The beaded curtain swept aside with a chiming of tiny bells, revealing a tall, dark-skinned wizard with a tumble of black hair and a bright smile framed by a gold-threaded goatee. He was dressed in a swath of patterned purple robes edged with gold, jewels glinting in his ears. "Hello!" exclaimed the wizard warmly, in a rich, deep voice like melted sugar. "Welcome to Gilmore's Glorious Goods. You have already made an excellent decision today; how can I make your day a little more glorious?"
"Healing potions," Pam supplied, then looked away from the wizard (because with those robes, he had to be a wizard, right? No one else would wear them) and turned back towards the guy she'd come in with. "Anything else you're looking for, Flamehead?"
"Flamehead," Alex mouthed, his indignation giving him enough presence of mind to stop gawking at the flamboyantly-attired wizard and presumed proprietor of the shop. He shook his head and returned his attention to the grandiloquent person he presumed was the eponymous Gilmore. "Healing potions," he affirmed, nodding. "That's the only thing on my list that I might be able to find at a magic shop. Though, if you don't mind, we could maybe browse around a bit, and take back some suggestions for future purchases to the Take--Tessa usually needs all kinds of things, and she's always looking out for reliable suppliers."
Gilmore clapped his hands together once, lightly, then opened them to indicate the entire shop. "But of course! Look around, browse to your hearts' content. Take a look, take a sniff, nothing's dangerous. I have protections, enhancements, scrolls... I even have one of those special rucksacks you adventurers just seem to love," Gilmore intoned. He bent down behind the counter briefly, then straightened up again, this time bearing a wooden crate with section slats that rattled lightly with its collection of glass bottles and phials. "And, when you're ready..."
This time, when his hands swirled above the crate of potions, perhaps one might catch the faintest trace of golden glitter that followed the trace of Gilmore's fingers.
Pam nodded, admiring the glitter effect, and smiled at the wizard before turning her attention back to its original focus. "Flamehead. It's not like I know your name," she pointed out as she floated over to a nearby display. "Gotta call you something. Though I guess I could go with Monster Slayer or something instead, if you'd prefer that?"
"Alex," he told her, just a touch absently as he began to gawk at the crate full of magical potions. He had never seen so many in one place! "My name is Alex."
His wide eyes turned toward her, and he stopped himself short from reaching for her hands, excitement obvious. "This is fantastic! I've never seen so many in one place before! Normally, I go back to the Take with two or three, tops, after scavenging the market for hours." His enthusiasm then turned toward the apparent proprietor. "How much? And what's your turnover time for brewing new ones? Tessa's going to go barmy when I tell her about this place!" Well. Not really. But she would be pleased, and that was always a good thing. "I hope I've got enough in my budget ..." he added with an uncertain look at the rucksack slung over his shoulder.
Ah, now his customer was interested. Gilmore's very white grin broadened. "You've caught me with a fresh new supply. I have three of the most basic variety for fifty apiece, three more potent for one hundred fifty, and one glorious specimen of a very rare vintage indeed, which we would... need to discuss. Additionally, I have a few other little delicacies one might find useful in a variety of exciting situations, should you be interested."
He withdrew the healing potions first, which gleamed a rich raspberry color in their vials rather than the typical crimson red -- their creator's glorious influence, obviously. Three small vials, three slightly larger pots, and a beautifully curved bottle for the so-called 'rare vintage.' "These are among my most popular stock, but I do require, say, a fortnight to replenish."
Alex's excitement over the healing potions was kind of funny, so she smiled a response and kept an eye on him as he discussed details with the wizard, but said nothing. What was there to say? He knew what he wanted, and she...well, she seriously doubted even the wizard's special, pretty bottle would help someone who couldn't drink it.
Turning the wizard's answers over in his head, Alex reached deep into his satchel--much, much deeper than should have been possible, given its apparent dimensions--and eventually withdrew a tightly-bound canvas bag, which he hefted thoughtfully. "That would pretty much clean me out," he said, thinking out loud more than actually trying to hold up his end of the conversation. "But potions are always worth it, when you can find them." And finding a place that produced them on a regular basis? Not having to scrounge through the entire marketplace in the hope that somebody would have traded one or two off the last merchant ship to call? That was probably worth even more than four hundred fifty gold to the Take. To say nothing else of what other Glorious Goods this Gilmore might have to offer.
He looked at Pam suddenly. "What do you think? I can probably get more gold from Tessa later to finish the rest of the shopping list, and the other guild members would probably stake me out in a field to die from exposure if I missed out on these." Still. It was a lot of coin for a single purchase--coin that wasn't technically his own. For that reason alone, Alex found himself hesitating.
"I think he can cut you a better deal if you're buying that much," Pam said, seeing as she'd been asked. She turned to the wizard and raised her eyebrows - or looked as if she was, at any rate. She wasn't an expert at bargaining by any means, but she'd hung around the market on and off for years. It was always worth a shot. It wasn't like the wizard was likely to increase the price.
"He's from the Slayer's Take," she pointed out. "They have to go through a fuckload of healing potions if he's that excited about finding a half dozen in one place, not to mention all the other shit monster hunters carry with them. They obviously don't have anyone they're buying the shit from, so if you give him a deal, he'll be back. Often, seeing as he seems to be the designated shopper or something. Fuck, they could probably cut you a counter-deal on potion ingredients, seeing as they're probably the ones bringing them in. IF you give them a good reason to."
While the semi-translucent young lady talked, Gilmore settled his elbows on the counter, laced his fingers into a gilded weave, and rested his chin there. His smile did not falter in the least, but he lapsed into silence, waiting for the two of them to explain his business to one another. How simply charming, really.
Once the conversation paused and they'd both turned back to look at him, he fluttered his lashes at them and chuckled good-naturedly, "No, please, continue to tell me about all the fabulous bargains I'm about to offer you." Then, to Alex, because he was clearly the one with the money, Gilmore added, "If you really want all of the healing draughts, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement, but the recipe I use is absolutely top-secret. I'm happy to contract with a regular supply, especially if all of the Take's agents are so utterly darling."
Alex scratched thoughtfully at his cheek. "I don't know if 'darling' is the right word, exactly." Or if he loved the idea of that word being applied to him by a virtual stranger. Still, this was already one of the most personable wizards he had ever met, and, eccentricities aside, he generally felt pretty good about the impression he got from this purple-robed magician. "'Rugged' might be better for most of them. Though there are a few who are out-and-out hot, too."
He began sifting through his coins. "Lemme figure out how much I can get with what I have left," he murmured, his attention divided. "Then we can go from there? If you're serious about doing a deal, maybe, I should get word back to the Take. Nothing I say would be necessarily binding, otherwise, but I know who can make that kind of call. I'm sure they'd be interested in your other stuff, too."
His blue eyes darted toward Pam as he added, "Ingredients, though, that's a good thought. We mostly do contract work for specific parts of magical creatures and whatnot. Having a market for some of the surplus wouldn't be a terrible idea."
Okay, she recognized sarcasm when she heard it. Pam met the wizard's eyes and shrugged it off. She wasn't the one buying, and all she'd done is make a suggestion. If he didn't like it, whatever.
The sarcasm had apparently gone over Alex's head, though, and she watched him count his coin, then shrugged off the compliment. "Mention it to your boss," she suggested, then smirked. "You might want to leave off the part about who you got the idea from, though. Go ahead and just take credit."
Well, this lad was just too preciously solemn for words. Gilmore decided he would let the Slayer's Take representative haggle him down just a little bit on the potions. But only a little bit. Gilmore was running a business, not a charity. The young lady's comment did prompt him to inquire, "Who do I have the pleasure of doing business with today, by the way? I, as you may have surmised from the sign outside, am Gilmore." He bowed, with a flourish of one hand, from behind the counter.
Alex looked up at his companion with a frown. "I couldn't do that--it wouldn't be fair." He smirked lopsidedly. Besides, nobody would believe it. If good ideas were my wheelhouse, I wouldn't be out doing the weekly shopping."
As Gilmore introduced himself properly, Alex offered a nod in greeting. The wizard hadn't offered to shake hands, after all, and his were occupied piling coins on the counter, anyway. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Gilmore. I'm Alex Summers. I'm with the Take, like I mentioned--I joined up with my brother a few years back. He usually does more exciting stuff, though."
"I'm just along for the ride," Pam supplied, dodging the request for her name and went back to looking over the rest of the merchandise. Did she really even have one, anymore? Billy still called her Pam, yeah, but no one else had in years. Pam had been human, the only sign of her Djinn heritage a faint tint of blue to her skin and hair. Adolfo had taken to calling her Pet and referring to her as Fatale. But Adolo was dead, and neither of those were names she wanted to share with Alex anyway. Easier just to bow out of the meet and greet and let the other two talk.
"I'm sure you're perfectly thrilling in your own way, Master Summers," Gilmore assured him, lining up the potion vials as he glanced over Alex's funds. Quick mental calculations told him that full price for all six was not going to happen -- but a small compromise and the promise of future business might. Potions weren't exactly easy to make, and they sold very well, but the number of adventurers who could afford them were vanishingly small.
Besides, he had to keep a small amount on-hand for his very favorite adventurer. Gilmore's weakness for half-elves already cut into his profits.
"I can offer you all three of the basic and one of the potent vials for what you have there. Unless... unless you think the Take can provide me with a rakshasa fur." The wizard's black eyes fairly gleamed. "Then I might be able to part with this." His fingertips lit on the cork capping the superior potion in the elegantly-shaped bottle, and swirled around the rim of the glass, temptingly. Somehow the gesture managed to look downright sensual.
After taking a moment to consider that offer, Alex offered a nod that was only somewhat hesitant; Tessa would have to hammer out the actual contract, but he knew that the Take had been hired to hunt rakshasas in the past. Not exactly the easiest quarry, given the shape-shifting and the whole ... being fiends thing, but he'd heard of members taking down worse. For a chance at a stable supply of potions--and one of particularly high potency--he was almost certain the Take would agree.
That being said, it took all of his restraint not to shift uncomfortably as Gilmore fondled the bottle. He couldn't put his finger on why the otherwise-innocuous gesture made him feel kinda squirmy, but it did. Weird.
"I'll get you an answer in writing when I get back," he said. "But I don't think that'll be a problem. I haven't heard of any rakshasa prowling around the city," the Take would surely have been contracted to take the thing down by now, if there were, "but the wizards can probably think of something."
Gilmore gave a short, understanding nod. Alex had to answer to someone; the Slayer's Take was an organization, after all. "Then I'll keep this beauty set aside until I hear from you again," he offered, warm and musical. It hadn't escaped him that both of his customers seemed slightly uncomfortable with the way he toyed with the bottle. That was adorably amusing, but it wasn't quite conducive to good business. He patted the side of the bottle instead, then gestured to the four bottles he'd offered, quite grandly. "Do we have an agreement?"
"Absolutely," Alex affirmed, pushing the small pile of gold toward Gilmore, and offering a hand to seal the deal. "I'll head back, and find out just how far the Take's willing to go with this. I'll be back with an answer for you," and, quite possibly, another shopping list, and additional funds, "in an hour or two. I don't really think they're going to need to think this over too long--but it would be better to have something in black-and-white, and not just some nobody genasi's word."
Gilmore reached to shake on this deal, but immediately swept up Alex’s hand in both of his and squeezed it tightly. He met Alex’s gaze, his brown eyes warm but serious. “Nonsense, master Alex," said Gilmore with passionate certainty. "You are here and present and I see you. You are, undeniably, a somebody genasi, and I won’t hear otherwise.”
On the other side of a display, Pam rolled her eyes. By that definition, she was somebody, and she was pretty sure not. Still... "Also? I don't stalk nobodies around the market," she observed as she floated back towards where they were standing. "I have better taste than that."
The fierce blush that swept through Alex's cheeks may have been an indicator of his heritage, or simply a sign he was easily embarrassed. The unruly blond hair curling up from his scalp, however, betrayed elemental blood more certainly, with the individual locks beginning to flicker and coil like the flames of a well-fed bonfire. "Thanks," he managed, looking at Gilmore and his new friend in turn. "I, uh ... Thanks." Despite his obvious awkwardness, the gratitude in his tone was plain to hear. Who would have guessed that something as mundane as an afternoon of shopping in the market would turn out this amazing?
Alex's response drew a warm, satisfied smile from the boisterous wizard behind the counter. Gilmore could be a bit much, he knew, and he was well aware that other people did not always take him seriously. When it came to valuing oneself and speaking the truth of value in others, though, he was one hundred percent sincere. It warmed his heart that Alex took him at his word. As he released the genasi's hands, Gilmore added in a lighter tone, "Here at Gilmore's Glorious Goods, we strive to provide uplifting personal affirmations with every purchase. That is just how much your business means to us."
Yeeaaah, she definitely liked the bonfire hair thing. And the blushing. Pam's lips quirked in a small but genuine smile as the wizard gave his corny response. "So, you'd better go get your stuff signed off on so he gets more business and you get more upliftingness or whatever," she pointed out as she re-settled at Alex's side and brushed phantom fingers against his, leaving behind a faint sense of warmth. Besides, she was going to have to leave soon if she wanted to get back to Billy and his boytoy, and she wanted a few more minutes with Alex before she had to go.
"Thanks," Alex said again, for the third time, though he didn't seem to notice his lack of eloquence in the moment. He didn't have much experience with affirmations, in general, but this one had felt pretty good, for all that it had come from virtually a complete stranger. Over-the-top though he might have been, Gilmore also seemed like an unusually sincere person, and if nothing else, Alex figured he was a halfway-decent judge of character. Anyway, why would the wizard be yanking his chain? It wasn't as if he stood to gain anything by it.
"I appreciate it," he added, gathering up the potions he had paid for and tucking each one carefully into his haversack. "I'll be back as soon as I can to let you know about the other stuff." He glanced toward his semi-translucent shopping companion. "Coming?" he invited, nodding back toward the door.
"Coming," Pam confirmed. "Bye wizard." She followed Alex towards the door, her feet barely skimming the floor.
"You know where to find me," Gilmore sang out, fluttering his fingers at them as they went.
Alex offered another grateful nod and a wave as he turned and made his way back out into the marketplace. Once they were out on the muddy, snow-strewn street again, he gave a small whoop and turned to his new friend, holding the haversack out in front of him with near-reverence. "That was incredible!" he gushed, not seeming to notice the looks he earned from several passers-by. "I mean, I may have spent all the money I was given without getting half the supplies on my list, but I'm sure the Take will be happy with this find. Nobody's ever brought back this many potions at once before, not even after a job! I seriously owe you one."
Pam laughed and shook her head. "You don't owe me anything. Though I think I fucked myself over; if you're all out of money, you're done shopping, and I have to find myself some other way to kill time." Which actually was kind of disappointing. She'd been having a really good time.
"You could come back to the Take with me," he suggested. "I mean, you're not a member, but it's not like we never have guests. And it's not really as if anybody could stop you? Anyway, if I vouch for you, it'll be fine. We can drop off these potions and hang out for a bit while Tessa figures out what she wants to do. I wouldn't mind the company," Alex added, with a small, hopeful smile.
Surprised, Pam paused and stared for a moment, then hurried to catch up. "Yeah. I mean, that could be cool. I've gotta be somewhere in a while? But until then...yeah." She smiled crookedly. "You might want to skip vouching for me, though. Probably easier if I just go invisible. Like you said, there could be someone looking to make a name for themselves by offing the Guild Master's pet assassin."
"If that works better for you," he said, shrugging. "I don't think anybody would start any trouble in the Take's actual hall, but why take a chance? Once I get Tessa up to speed, we can hang out in my bunk until she sends me back out. Or you have to go do your thing. Fair warning--my bunk is super-cramped and drafty."
"Wow. Good thing I'm made of air and literally take up no space then, huh?" Pam teased. She grinned. "Better watch out, though. If it's that drafty? It'll be really easy to get into."
