Out on the Town

A lovely blonde wandered into the shoppe, smiling gently at a few people she passed. She wasn't amazingly stunning, but something about her seemed to draw people to her. A little wiggle of her fingers was given to a little boy who was walking out with his father who had glanced up at her. He stuck his tongue out at her, and in turn, she playfully returned the gesture, giving a playful tug to the string attached to the balloon. When he didn't cease his rude face, she gave a charming smile and plucked a needle from a nearby voodoo doll, lifting it and thrusting it at his balloon. The pop echoed through the large store, followed quickly by his sobs.

"What the hell, lady?" Snapped the father, who ushered his kid out faster.

"Teach him some manners, it'll serve him well later in life!" She called after him with a smug little smirk.

Then she began to browse.

Mr. Saturday stood behind the counter whispering quietly to a rather thug looking gangster fellow when his head snapped up at the pop. He blinks for a bit, leaning forward with his jaw slack before shaking his head slowly.

"No, no, ken be." H sighs softly, looking a bit disappointed. Long fingers sweep whatever was being discussed behind the counter and a bag is tossed at the thug. "Be keepin' an eye out mon-ame. Trouble be brewin' already. "

With that he pulls the large tophat inti his head and proceeds to stroll towards the blonde.

"Good evenin', mon cher!" He says as he approaches. "We dun usually get ladies of such distinction here; do forgive da mess, ya? What trinket or bauble catches de eye?"

"All of them," She offered with a kind smile, glancing about the room. Her voice had a slight French lilt to it, enough to be obvious, though certainly not enough to change her speech patterns. "This is quite a collection you've got here." His eccentric appearance didn't seem to put her off in the slightest - if anything, she may have seemed more intrigued. A hand came up as she brushed her collarbone in an absentminded way, her impossibly blue eyes giving the contents of the shop a quick sweep. "What's the favorite thing you have in here?"

"Oh, dey customers, ta be sure."

He chuckled in a rich, luxurious way.

"But, I suppose my favorite ting ta sell depends on if ya want ta dabble in good juju, or bad juju." His eyes twinkle and he leans in conspiratorially as he speaks. "Trinkets a plenty. Charms ta protect, or bring fortune, or love or birth, hoodoo a plenty."

Long fingers gesture to various things. Chicken feet, colorful dolls, strange bits of yarn and colorful string.

"Of dey darker arts. Charms ta bring low an enemy, or bring a rival misfortune, or cause an unfaithful lover to go limp. Voodoo a plenty."

A wide, knowing grin graces his lips as he points out... well, similar items on a different shelf.

She laughed, pleased with his quick wit. Some things never changed.

Her head had tilted a bit as he explained the things in his shop, moving forward towards a particular counter full of trinkets. Between two manicured fingers she held up a piece of string, throwing a glance back towards the tall gentleman. "People don't actually believe in this stuff, do they?" Her smirk said one of two things: she was teasing, and definitely believed in 'this stuff' 100%, or she was being condescending and believed he was full of it.

The gentleman shrugged, unoffended by the question.

"Oh, some do, some dun. Dey be some who want de novelty. Some dat want da juju. Loa know the difference. Dem da dun believe are just trowin' dey money at me. Thankfully, I be a good catch either way."

She plucked up few other strings and then moved over to the counter, placing her finds down. Her manicured nails tapped against the counter to a rather odd beat. Four times, then one, repeating. Her gaze moved towards the back of the room as she gasped, "Is that a mosquito in amber?" It's the little things, apparently.

Her heels clacked lightly on the wooden floor as she rushed over to the pile of trinkets, picking one up and holding it up to the light.

The gentleman watches her fingers drum, blinking at the familiarity.

'No, you're imagining things...' he thinks. 'Reincarnated maybe.'

He steps beside her.

"Oh yes, a rare ting dat one. Rarer still since dem motion pictures wid dey big lizards."

He smiles, removes his hat and sweeps a bow.

"Forgive dey terrible manners. I am Samuel Saturday, owner of dis fine store here. At her service.. "

She was amused by his sweeping bow, slender fingers extending for a handshake. "Serenity." She offered simply.

"I had no idea I was speaking to the very owner - how marvelous. Now you must regal me with tales of each trinket and item you've procured here, I'm afraid."

Finger too long capture her hand gently and draw her fingers towards his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Enchanted," he says scarcely above a whisper. "As for the museum items.... from here and there. I procured dis shop from an old fellow a few years back when I passed through dey city on business. Recent troubles bringin' me back."

He sweeps a hand to the store at large. "Items from de far orient, or heart of africa, or jungles of de amazons. Masks, weapons, artifacts. The mystical items are crafted wid love by yerstuly."

"Trouble?" She questioned, a small pout pushing her lower lip out slightly. "That's a shame, I hope all is well now."

Her gaze had travelled with the sweep of his hand, wuss dancing with a sort of mischief as he spoke. 'Oh, I see.. so you're a magician, then."

His own eyes dance with some hidden joke.

"Trouble be over, I tink. Fer now. I got a last piece ta find. As fer a magician... well. I speak to dey loa, an I know a secret or tree. But egrandised titles..."

He grins. "Dun be telling no one, but I suppose I be a wizard of sorts."

"One last piece, hm?" She took several steps forward and lifted a crow's foot, handling it with gentle fingertips. "And when your puzzle is complete, what then?" Bright, curious blue eyes turned upwards to glance at his face, a small smile across her lips.

His comment about being a wizard seemed to fetch less of her attention than the other comment.

"Oh, I dun know, mon cher. Turn me gaze back on dey world, I sapase. Plenty o work out der for dem that know how ta look."

He grinned slightly.

Her gaze drifted up to lock with his eyes, hers seeming to pierce to his very soul - or whatever was left where his soul once was. A small, playful smile took her lips as she set the crow foot down tenderly. "And how does one look? Are you muscle for hire? Mercenary?"

"Depends on dey season I suppose. I just paid off dis mortgage here wit pest removal work. Sometimes I be findin' tings. Sometimes protectin' tings. Sometimes punishin' tings. Just like de loa, I do what pays ta do."

"Hmm.." She mused a bit, one arm crossed over her chest, while the other rested against it, her index finger propping up her chin. "What do you charge for a personalized charm? Y'know, for protection?"

"Oh, I suppose depends on what us be needin' protection against, mon cher. But, for such an enchanting beauty wit eyes of... such familiarity? Fer you, me dove, not much at all."

He offers a smooth grin and tips his hat ever so slightly.

"Familiarity?" Came the question for definition, as she took a step towards him.

"Do you already have a voodoo doll of me, premade?" She was teasing, of course, though a hint of complete seriousness could be detected.

"Yer eyes stir a memory long sleepin', mon cher, that be all. An no dolls ta my knowin'. Such tings usually take a piece o a person. Which, you ain't exactly left behind yet."

A shrewd observer would notice that he didn't say he wouldn't make one.

She seemed oddly pleased with his answer, a content little smirk pulling up at the corner of her lips. The finger against her chin straightened to tap at her lips,

"And if I were to leave a piece of myself behind, would you take that opportunity to make a doll?"

"Oh, probly do some ting wit it, ta be sure. De gods frown missed opportunities."

He winks slowly.

She gave a small smile, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. A small knife was pulled from the small purse at her side, the blade coming up to chop off a small group of strands of her hair, the pinched lock held over one of the shelves, before she dropped it onto the surface.

"I hear they do - I wouldn't want to make the gods frown."

Slipping the knife back into her purse, she turned and made her way back to the counter, reaching into her purse once more to retrieve a slim wallet.

The gentleman blinks slowly at her before his gaze tracks to the hair. Long fingers shift something to settle over it to prevent the precious filaments from blowing away. His long strife carries him to behind the counter after her. A quiet cough clears his throat before his grin returns and he spreads his hands.

"So, mon cher... what'll it be?"

"Just these, if you please." She motioned to the small pieces of yarn she had left on the counter, her nails tapping once more in that familiar pattern. She didn't seem annoyed or nervous in the slightest, simply habit.