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Post by Revan Haine on May 20, 2009 2:46:46 GMT -7
A kettle was about to boiling.
Revan glanced up from the scroll he had been reading, Middle Kingdom Era, and turned towards the kitchen sink. He could hear the bubbles and smell the vapour in a way no human could, but he also knew it wasn't truly ready. He slowly and carefully rolled the scroll, placing it gently inside a container on the counter and screwing shut the lid. He still had some trouble with hieroglyphics, so he enjoyed the practice from reading simple reports, as old as they might be.
The timer on the oven clicked, gently counting down in clicks loud enough to break Revan's eardrums but too soft for a human to notice. Putting on a pair of oven-mitts, Revan pulled out a tray of a biscuits, placing them gently on a cooling rack on a counter, before moving over to wait at the kettle. It was a foggy day in London town and though the store was empty now, he was sure someone would soon enter when they smelled the freshly baked biscuits. He liked this persona he had put up, the friendly shopkeeper looking out for his species. It wasn't him, but it was the him he wanted to be.
The real Revan was a bit more...realistic. He did what he needed to survive, to help his people, but his also truely didn't care for governments or national borders. No single nation from his day had survived intact to the modern era, nothing he recognised. Humanity was forever changing and Revan felt like he had found a pattern, as if he could tell the future.
As if confirming his suspicions, the bell tinkled as a customer entered the store.
The kettle boiled.
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Shopkeeper
Crennent's Quality Quidditch Supplies Owner Accidental Magic Reversal Squad Member[M0n:50]
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Post by Timothy Crennent on May 22, 2009 1:47:04 GMT -7
Tim had never realized how much more vibrant and visually stimulating Diagon Alley was at night. It had been another fulfilling day at the Ministry (or rather, Hay-on-Wye an interesting little market town in Wales his team had been called to that day, known as the "Town of Books", that he mustn't forget to tell Padril about) and Tim had decided to finish it by picking up a bunch of freshly printed promotional gear for Crennent's, which was nestled under Tim's left arm in a large brown envelope. He was about to head home when he felt the sudden urge to do some personal shopping through Diagon, something he hadn't really done in over a year.
Figuring he could spare a few minutes and maybe a few Galleons, Tim decided his first stop would be Lost Legends, the antique store run by the now famous vampire and political activist Revan Haine, whom Tim had heard a lot about but had never actually met. He cautiously pushed open the entrance to the business, and was so taken in by the splendor of the place for a brief moment that he didn't even notice that the shopkeeper himself was in a kitchen towards the back boiling water.
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Post by Revan Haine on May 22, 2009 2:20:33 GMT -7
Revan moved about the kitchen hurriedly, pouring the water out, adding two teaspoons of Lapsang Souchong and adding the water back in again. While the tea stepped, he admired his teapot. 15th century Chinese porcelain, richly decorated and enchanted with a spell to never let the tea go cold and to automatically filter the tea leaves. It also steeped in half the amount of time.
"I'll just be a moment," Revan called out. "There are biscuits on the counter, fresh from the oven." He was prouder than this, but he had to maintain this illusion. Sure, if this had been his home, he would of offered any guest tea. As manners demanded. But this was different.
Revan kept his ears open as he waited for the tea to steep, stretching for the sound of any vandal or thief. As far as he could tell, there was only one person in the store. Not large, judging by his footfalls.
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Shopkeeper
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Post by Timothy Crennent on May 22, 2009 2:30:42 GMT -7
Tim slowly approached the counter, looking thoughtfully between the biscuits and the odd creature in the kitchen. Is he for real? Tim was kind of impressed that Revan was even using an oven, but it should have been suspected. He wondered whether Revan was gay, but he dare not ask him. ((A gay vampire? Crazy! *COUGH*SATIN*COUGH*))
"Well, I actually... don't want to spoil my dinner," Tim responded, wary of the biscuits.
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Post by Revan Haine on May 22, 2009 2:45:31 GMT -7
"Oh, too bad. They're delicious," he exclaimed, smiling as the teapot magically whistled, to let the owner know it had been properly steeped. He picked it up and began to pour into one of the Chinese tea cups. Not too small and not too large, just big enough to enjoy a cup of tea.
"You will have tea of course, won't you?" he offered. "Lapsang Souchong has a nice, smoky taste to it that you just don't get with most tea. Then we can talk about why you walked into my store." The smell of the tea drift tauntingly through the air.
He felt insulted that the boy would refuse his biscuits though. When a host offered you food, any food, you must accept and at least try it. Common manners and hospitality. People in this century were just plain rude.
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Shopkeeper
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Post by Timothy Crennent on May 22, 2009 2:59:40 GMT -7
Tim, feeling guilty, picked one of the biscuits up from the tray and took a bite from it tentatively. It tasted good, so he continued until he had eaten three of them.
"Oh, um, sure..."
The tea, on the other hand, smelt nice but not in a way which suggested that it would taste good... like burning wood. It was clearly important to the vampire, (he knew it by name and had shared his opinion on it) and Tim was sure he could feign drinking so as not to displease him. He couldn't remember the last time he actually drank tea.
"Do you treat all your customers like this?" Tim asked. "It's... you know... nice and humble but it's kind of disconcerting."
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Post by Revan Haine on May 22, 2009 3:05:45 GMT -7
"Well, only the customers I meet," Revan said as he finished pouring the second cup of tea. "I'm rarely in the store anymore though with my other work, I'm sure you've read about it so I won't bore you." He put both cups onto a tray and carried them past the counter, picking up the biscuit rack as he did so. He balanced both with one hand each with perfect ease, completely confident of his ability. He lowered both onto the small coffee table in front of the fireplace, out the front of the counter and near the rear of the store.
He sat down in one of the plush couches, gesturing for Tim to sit down. He debated whether to light incense, but decided that was overdoing the act. Revan picked up a biscuit and took a small bite out of it, his fangs ripping it neatly and ruthlessly. "So, what brings you to my little store, young man?"
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Post by Timothy Crennent on May 22, 2009 3:17:34 GMT -7
Timothy followed Revan wordlessly to the couch, setting his envelope down next to him. He picked up the teacup nearest to him, hovering it near his mouth. He thought it was kind of interesting that Revan ignored his 'disconcerting' remark, but wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Well, I was just kind of, you know, browsing." Tim began. "I've never actually been in here before, so..." He laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, I guess I just wasn't expecting the red carpet is all. It's nice though..."
His eyes danced around the artifacts in the store. "I'm interested in Muggles. I actually know a fair bit about them I think, not so much their history but still. I mean I like Wizarding history, and I like Muggles, so where the two cross I guess I enjoy reading into the muggle side of things further."
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Post by Revan Haine on May 22, 2009 3:23:03 GMT -7
"So, curiousity, is it?" Revan asked, before finishing the biscuit. He waited until he had swallowed to continue talking. "Well, we have many curiosities here. Any specific time frame or culture that interests you?" He took a sip of the tea to wash down the biscuit and basked in it's smokey flavor. Lapsang Souchong was one of his favourites.
Tim had managed to regain some favour by clearly enjoying the biscuits but Revan watched him carefully with the tea. He didn't care so much if he liked it or not, but he did care about how he would deal with the situation.
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Shopkeeper
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Post by Timothy Crennent on May 22, 2009 3:41:33 GMT -7
Without taking his eyes off of Revan, Tim took a sip of his tea. He managed to swallow it but not without failing to hold back a cough and a look of displeasure. Tim cleared his throat, unsure of whether to apologize or not.
"Well, like I said, where Muggles and Wizards cross is something I sort of want to learn more about, but as far as actual purchases go I guess it wouldn't be right." Tim set his tea down on the table. "Ancient Egypt? I mean I guess that's where it started, right? I find it hard to believe that magic is only 3000 years old. I also like magical philosophy, and Quidditch... I own a Quidditch store in Hogsmeade. I guess something to hang up there would be nice." Tim fell silent, aware he was rambling. He wasn't prepared to be quizzed, he just wanted to see what they had.
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Post by Revan Haine on Jun 16, 2009 19:54:16 GMT -7
Revan raised an eyebrow at Tim's historical inaccuracy but decided not to comment. Magic was a bit older than that, as was Ancient Egypt, but supposed the child was simply a victim of the poor education system that the current government had implemented. Or was just ignorant. Both were likely and all too common.
He chuckled at Tim's reaction to the tea, "Lapsang Souchong takes a couple of decades to get used to. You'll like it eventually," he promised solemnly. Not true, in this case Revan was just improvising. He had liked Lapsang Souchong when he first tried it, and most people who disliked it at first continued to dislike it until the day they died (often sooner rather than later with Revan around. Had Selene had Lapsang Souchong before he killed her? Such a waste.)
"Quidditch, hmm?" Revan asked, thinking over the store's rather small broom collection. He had never been a fan of the sport, or flying, likely because of it's proximity to the sun, and so had never really gathered them in his journey's. "I think I have some artefacts of Devlin Whitehorn..." He trailed off. "Yes, a signed picture, one of the first manufactured Nimbus 1000's, not sure if it was fourth or fifth, I'd have to check, and the plaque he had on his office door." He finished, "It had a nice quote on it."
He had a quidditch store in Hogsmeade, then? Revan vaguely remembered the name. Crenniens. Crentents? Something like that. He'd check out the directory later. Do wizards have those? He gets confused sometimes, sometimes he was in the muggle worlds, in 1932, in 1211, in the wizard world, 1567, yesterday. Memories, vital as they were, made life harder.
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Post by Timothy Crennent on Jun 16, 2009 20:42:27 GMT -7
((Not sure on the wiki's source, but it says magic was recorded for the first time in 1000 BC. harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Events_prior_to_1800 )) "I... yes, sure." Timothy said, not too interested but wanting to move on, away from the food and drink. "I'd like to see those, if you wouldn't mind." The broom would be nice, but Tim suspected it was outside his price range.
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Post by Revan Haine on Jul 8, 2009 6:28:01 GMT -7
(Record and existence would be two completely different things, as I believe Revan understands)
Revan stood up with a smile, pleased to be doing business at last. He gestured towards a aisle, which seemed to have age-old sporting equipments. He lead the way, sorting quickly through the items with a glance until he nodded with certanity. "That's the quote Delvin Whitehorn had on his door."
A framed piece of paper had long, cursive writing flowing across it. The phrase itself was clearly a quote as it had the quotation marks but it was not attributed to any speaker. "The Sky is not the limit any longer. It is the imagination and, hopefully, conscience of wizards".
"I always liked that one," Revan said proudly. "I might hang that up if you don't purchase it."
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Post by Timothy Crennent on Jul 8, 2009 7:50:00 GMT -7
((WATCHMEN!))
Tim nodded, studying the note for a moment. While he agreed it was certainly a nice quote, he didn't see much value or use in the piece of parchment it was written on. He asked Revan if he could be shown the Nimbus that he mentioned. He felt bad to turn down something that the hospitable Revan seemed to be enthused about but wasn't about to fork over cash solely because of guilt.
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Post by Revan Haine on Jul 8, 2009 21:26:32 GMT -7
((You called it )) "Of course," Revan seemed to be adjusting his bearings, then turned a sharp 180 and marched to one of the shelves, where a large, old looking cloth covered a long, rectangle object. Revan swept it off dramatically, revealing a glass case and a faded and unusual looking broom. While a keen eye could notice some traits of the Nimbus in the broom, it was sharply obvious the broom was far inferior to current racing brooms. Despite this, it carried an air of age and wisdom around it like a cloak and it basked in a atmosphere notably similar to Revan's shop, that of a secret knowledge hidden generations ago, a small window into another life. Printed in gold letters across the the handle of the broom were the words 'Nimbus 1000'. "Fourth edition," Revan confirmed. "Or whatever the term is with brooms. It was the fourth manufactured batch. I'm sure I don't need to tell you the signifance of the Nimbus 1000 for broom popularity and professional racing." He could snag this young man with the broom, even if he didn't buy first off because of price, there was a chance Revan could make him save up for it. Revan didn't really care for brooms and would be glad to have it out of the store and some money in his pocket.
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