Mr. Tickle's Wonder Emporium
18307
THREADID
120
POSTS
91 - 100
DISPLAYED
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During the conversation, Terri kept quiet, knowing when to speak and when not. This was a matter best left for Rick and Rook to discuss, although she hadn't considered it being the target of the Ash Run. Although, if she got her way, there would be another option, one that she hoped to bring to several people's attention.
"Yes, that sounds a good idea," Terri replied with a smile, gazing at the stalls with wonder.
"Potential isn't as important as the here and now, either," Rook said quietly. After all, the thing that had taken Laura hadn't been seen again. Other creatures were causing far more local problems. He gave a slight nod, as if to agree that the topic was closed, for now.
The items held both mystery and intrigue for him, and he regarded them with the faint suspicion he reserved for anything that he suspected might be a threat. Beautiful things rarely had beautiful interiors, when it came to things that were other.
But then, ugly things also rarely had beautiful interiors.
In short, it was a Hedge eat Changeling world out there, and he was planting his feet firmly in front of the rest of the Freehold if it came down to it.
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Grimalkin saunters a short way away from the group, tail held high in the air. She pauses for a moment when Perry diCarto speaks. She glances back over her shoulder at him without turning around. She doesn't say anything but Perry is fairly sure that if looks could kill he would be at least gravely wounded. Apparently she was displeased with something he said or did.
She then flicks her tail once and continues a few more paces before lightly hopping up onto another table and turning to face the group again. She looks L'aire . "I have plenty of jewelry. Some of it is even interesting enough for the likes of this odd little group." Grimalkin pauses long enough to lick her front paw. She then starts cleaning the side of her face and behind her ear. "I might be persuaded to show you which ones are worth your attention, but it will cost you."
She pauses and glances Anya Wyrmblood . "Look around all you like, Deary. Rifle through my treasures to your heart's content. You won't find what you're looking for without my guidance." Grimalkin flicks her gaze toward the old woman at the front briefly. "And my guardian may seem senile, but she's rather good at keeping people from taking things that are not theirs." The cat let's out a petulant sigh. "Though she does have an unfortunate tendency to take bribes from thieves."
The old woman sits at the front, having produced a cross-stitching loop from somewhere. Her entire attention seems to be focused on her craft and she is humming to herself. Apparently she is entirely oblivious to the conversation going on in her pavilion, or even the fact that Grimalkin is anything beyond a normal cat.
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Mr. Tickle shrugs at any questions about the fruit. Apparently, goblin fruits aren't his area of expertise. However, Magnus does recognize a few buglewort and coupnettle in addition to the blushberries and dream-a-drupes. When the changelings at his stall appear strangely uninterested in his creations, the wizened starts focusing more of his attention on his mortal customers. After all, he still needs to pay the rental fee for his flea market stall.
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After asking his question to Mr. Tickle, Alec waits a while. Is it rude to ask too much about something that doesn't really belong to Mr. Tickle's wares? A bit unsure what to do, he steps back.
Then he notices another man looking at the fruits. 'Hey, Magnus Wight is it? Do you mind helping me?' He leans closer to the basket of fruits to point closer at several things. 'I know these berries and the nectarine-like things are nice, but of all exotic things I've seen I now can't recall how these are called? Are they nice?'
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Magnus grunts in surprise at being addressed and looks over at the young wood-elf raising an eyebrow. Then he looks back at the fruit and gestures at the pinkish fruit like large cherries. "Blush berries." He points at the purple nectarines. "Dream-a-drupe." Then Magnus pauses for a minute and furrows his brows.
"Dream-a-drupe Brandy. Hmm...."
He glances up and tried to get the attention of Mr. Tickle with a raised hand. He points at the Dream-a-drupes. "How much?"
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Perry's head looked from the cat, to the doctor, to the Dancer, to the dragon, to the old lady, back to the cat, over to L'aire, then back again to the talking cat in a whirl of confusion. His brain was addled by the fact that there was a talking fucking cat before him. He stammered to L'aire, "Oh, I'm just browsing. Although, if I saw something that struck my fancy, I'd certainly consider buying it."
He looked back to the cat, who had presented him ass and sass and a look over its shoulder. "Grimalkin? I truly am sorry. Will you please forgive my rudeness?" He was shooting for persuasive. With any luck the cat would accept his good intentions.
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"Very true." It was certainly a factor that had to be weighted for that particular decision, one of many. It had never been an easy one. And not because it usually meant condemning an individual to death.
But instead because it usually meant passing over other threats, and hoping that he'd made the correct choice.
Still, he couldn't help but chuckle slightly at Terri's eagerness . And his hand found hers, fingers entwining as he glanced towards Tickle's stall. "Start with an...old acquaintance?"
“Well that’s a little vague Perry.” L’aire shook her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Maybe narrowing it down may find what you fancy.” She half laughed as she looked to the Fairest Attorney. "You're not one of those stuffy types are you?" She teased a little, not entirely sure how he'd react. Who knows, he may be one of those guys who wears electric blue boxers under a drab suit.
Wow, the kitty has claws… of the verbal kind. The Fairest Dancer was curious of course to what items the cat may have. But something was a bit odd.
“Well as interesting as that may sound, that would depend on what it would cost me Grimalkin?” The Winter said with a cool wisp toward the cat. The Winter Dancer wondered if the feline was frugal at all.
"Well, Grimalkin, you can rest easy in that regard. I intend to offer no bribes, nor take anything without paying for it," the Draconic retorted plainly, and with a quick, curious look toward the woman the cat spoke of.
Not that she was above bribing people, if she believed it would be profitable in some way. But at a market it was simply unneccesary effort, and rather pointless besides. The Draconic had far too much style for such pettiness.
She studied keenly the way in which Grimalkin interacted with the others, and waited to hear how the talking cat would respond to Perry and L'aire.
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