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Post by Anna Kavanagh on Jun 21, 2006 21:17:07 GMT -5
Anna followed a few steps behind Wesley as he walked toward the counter. She smiled at the two women and tried to avert her eyes from the gargoyle. The older woman had recognized Wesley, and soon they started chatting about books. Clearly he was in his element. She moved away, aware that she wasn't really a part of the conversation, and looked around the store careful not to touch anything.
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Stone
Bad Ass Demon Slayer
I remember
Posts: 276
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Post by Stone on Jun 22, 2006 2:01:39 GMT -5
Stone couldn't help but interject at the mention of yet another person from his past "Buhman's History of Demonology and Incantations.
"Buhman? You mean someone actually published his book after all theese years?" When he meet him, Buhman had been years ahead of his time, shunned by the magical society because he didn't agree with the experts. But he had written a good book, or atleast it seemed that way to Stone, who had little but rudimentary knowledge of magic.
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Wesley
Bad Ass Demon Slayer
My ass is not pansy!
Posts: 434
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Post by Wesley on Jun 22, 2006 7:00:12 GMT -5
"Buhman? You mean someone actually published his book after all theese years?" the gargoyle asked.
Wesley looked towards him, an amused smile crossing his face. "Well, actually, the text I'm looking for was first published back in 1924. It is a rather interesting read. A bit forward with some of his opinions, but usually quite accurate."
He thought for a moment, wondering at how odd his life must be if talking with a gargoyle about books wasn't weirding him out...
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Post by Rhiannon Shaw on Jun 22, 2006 8:19:23 GMT -5
"Thank you. I'm looking for a book." He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. "Buhman's History of Demonology and Incantations. Do you happen to have it? It's most urgent." Then his ears perked up when he processed the rest of what she said. "Oh...what else have you got?"
Rhiannon had heard of that particular Buhman book but had never gotten to browse through it, although she knew her grandmother had it in the store. There was just so much in there one could get lost in, books she'd never even heard of or old favorites of her that she liked to read every once in a while. So much to look at, to touch, to study. Having been a mostly solitary witch in a small town in Massachusetts, she hadn't had the opportunity to visit many occult shops because they were sadly absent. So when she'd come to visit her grandmother in the past she'd always felt completely fascinated by the things Siobhan had spread around the shop or the shelves up in the apartment they shared.
The first time she'd entered Moonshade, about 13 years ago, she'd been just a child and thus had thought everything around her strange but pretty in a different kind of way. And filled with lots of shiny trinkets. The store hadn't been like this back then; lacked some of the things that made it one of the best in Los Angeles: rare books, an assortment of magickal and ritual items that weren't sold in just about any place, the whole feeling of having entered a whole new world once you crossed the threshold. Moonshade, 13 years ago, had been just one more store of the kind. But times changed and Siobhan had never been just any witch, so her store slowly but surely gained prestige.
And as it did, so did Rhiannon grew to love it more and more until she was now working there. Granted, the whole incense thing still bothered her a bit but she'd get used to it... She turned her mind back to the conversation at hand. The stranger hadn't been as surprised with Stone as the woman. Had he seen one before? Or maybe, like Siobhan, he'd seen more than the common man, to the point it no longer scared or confused him? She started wondering what else he may have seen. Demons? The vampires Stone had been telling her about? There was just so much she didn't know about this city and it was kind of frustrating that everyone else seemed to know more than her!
"Well, actually, the text I'm looking for was first published back in 1924. It is a rather interesting read. A bit forward with some of his opinions, but usually quite accurate."
"I do agree he is very accurate," Siobhan said. "But he also has a frustrating way of writing at times. The man can't seem to know how to say something without flourishes and extraneous words, when something simpler could get the point across just as well."
This made Rhiannon smile. Siobhan had always been a very no-nonsense woman and she tended to prefer authors who didn't loose themselves in their writing and just said what they had to say already. She liked to say that she was getting too old to wait for someone to take an eternity to make a point. Maybe Rhiannon had unconsciously let her grandmother's less than stellar opinion of this particular author keep her from exploring his book. A pity, really. Now that she knew demons actually existed, she'd have liked the opportunity to consult it.
"But I do have the edition you're looking for," Siobhan continued and then leaned over the counter and said in a conspiratorial tone. "I also recently acquired a first edition of the very rare 'Encyclopaedia of the Daemon'. It's rather outdated, but makes for a fascinating read. I have a few other little gems. Come on with me to the back, Mr. Pryce, and I'll show you," Siobhan made to walk to the backroom but then turned and looked at the man. "Does your lady want to come too? If not, Rhiannon can keep her company in here while we browse through the books. Will you, dear?" The latter was directed at Rhiannon.
"Sure..." Rhiannon said softly, hesitantly, because she actually wanted to go with them, curiosity taking over and making her want to see those rare books in her grandmother's backroom that she hadn't even looked at yet.
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Post by Anna Kavanagh on Jun 22, 2006 10:26:08 GMT -5
Siobhan made to walk to the backroom but then turned and looked at the man. "Does your lady want to come too?"
Eventually Anna became aware that the older woman was referring to her. "Oh, no, that's fine," she smiled. "I'll just wait out here...being completely overwhelmed." She let her fingers trace along the knots of a Celtic cross-engraved jewelry box, trying to forget how much her life had changed in the past 24 hours.
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Stone
Bad Ass Demon Slayer
I remember
Posts: 276
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Post by Stone on Jun 22, 2006 10:48:56 GMT -5
"But he also has a frustrating way of writing at times. The man can't seem to know how to say something without flourishes and extraneous words, when something simpler could get the point across just as well." "He talked like that to. Once, when i was hunting this Garat demon, it took him two minutes to say it took a right turn. Luckily i found it while flying a hour later, before it could hurt anyone else."
"It had been on a small rampage through the city, targeting young male virgins for a empowering ritual that required their testicles." Realizing that he was talking about a demon stealing the testicles of young men, Stone quickly added "I'm terribly sorry, but I tend to get caught up in my old memories."
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Wesley
Bad Ass Demon Slayer
My ass is not pansy!
Posts: 434
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Post by Wesley on Jun 22, 2006 18:32:07 GMT -5
"He talked like that to. Once, when i was hunting this Garat demon, it took him two minutes to say it took a right turn. Luckily i found it while flying a hour later, before it could hurt anyone else."
Wesley grinned. "You've met him then? That's fascinating," he said, trying to gauge the gargoyle's age. But he'd never met one before, so he wasn't quite sure what signs to look for.
He winced slightly at the gargoyle's recollection. Not something he wanted to picture in his head...
"I do agree he is very accurate. But he also has a frustrating way of writing at times. The man can't seem to know how to say something without flourishes and extraneous words, when something simpler could get the point across just as well."
Wesley turned to the old woman and nodded at her. "True. Such is the way with most of the authors from his time. They all felt the need to exagerate, and add a little flair to their work. I suppose they may have just been excited for the opportunity to spread their knowledge," he said with a shrug.
"But I do have the edition you're looking for. I also recently acquired a first edition of the very rare 'Encyclopaedia of the Daemon'. It's rather outdated, but makes for a fascinating read. I have a few other little gems. Come on with me to the back, Mr. Pryce, and I'll show you."
He perked up again at the mention of the old books. He knew that occult owners kept their most precious editions in the back, and it really was an honour to be invited back to see them. Usually meant that they didn't believe you to be a vampire or some crazed magical psychopath... "Outdated doesn't always mean uninformative, but I'm sure you know that," he said with a grin, then turned back to Anna when the old woman addressed her.
"I'll just wait out here...being completely overwhelmed."
Wes nodded, glancing briefly at the other woman before rushing after Siobhan, who was already headed towards the back without him.
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Post by Rhiannon Shaw on Jun 23, 2006 10:33:26 GMT -5
SIOBHAN
"He talked like that to. Once, when i was hunting this Garat demon, it took him two minutes to say it took a right turn. Luckily i found it while flying a hour later, before it could hurt anyone else."
Siobhan chuckled at the image the telling brought to her. She'd always loved hearing Stone talk about the people he'd met in his travels. She'd been surprised more than once at exactly how many important and prestigious people he'd crossed paths with in the past. There were times when she simply picked up names at random of people she'd read about and Stone would more likely than not have a story about them, either something he himself witnessed or was part of, or something he had heard from others at the time.
"Outdated doesn't always mean uninformative, but I'm sure you know that," he said with a grin, then turned back to Anna when the old woman addressed her.
Oh, he was right indeed. What looked outdated might lead people to dismiss it, but sometimes real gems of knowledge could be found within its archaic thoughts and opinions. Besides which, there was no information that was bad information. In this world they lived in, with demons and hellmouths and creatures of darkness roaming the night, every piece of information, no matter how small, no matter how old, counted. It could mean the different between surviving to live another day or dying because you didn't know certain things about particular demons. Like the Boshk Demon, who was pretty much invulnerable until you managed to subdue it by tickling it. And that little tidbit of information did not appear in many recent manuals on demons, mostly because the Boshk hadn't been seen in centuries.
"Well then, shall we?" And without waiting for an answer, she started making her way to the backroom, knowing that Mr. Pryce would follow. He wouldn't want to miss out on the opportunity; he had seemed to her, in previous encounters on this shop, to be the kind of man who loved to immerse himself in old books. She'd even thought of him a few times when she gathered some works to add to her collection.
The backroom of Moonshade Occult Shop was a small and dry space (wouldn't do to have dampness ruin books hundreds of years old), lighted by candles on the stone walls. Siobhan moved towards a bookshelf at the end of the room with a springy step most women her age had lost by now. She motioned Wesley to follow her while she busied herself with looking through the books of her collection, muttering to herself as she tried to recall where she'd put that book and... ah, there it was.
"Found your 1924 edition of Buhman's book," Siobhan said lightly but didn't turn to him, continuing to look through her bookshelf and finding a few more books she wanted the man to see. "Here we go." She carefully placed a pile of five or six books, some looking rather worse for wear, on her desk. She extended Buhman's to Wesley. "Is this the one you're looking for?"
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Post by Rhiannon Shaw on Jun 23, 2006 11:57:18 GMT -5
"He talked like that to. Once, when i was hunting this Garat demon, it took him two minutes to say it took a right turn. Luckily i found it while flying a hour later, before it could hurt anyone else."
"Really?" Rhiannon couldn't help but ask, fascinated. Although she would never want immortality for herself, because she was aware of how hard it was to outlive everyone and everything you knew, she couldn't help but want a little taste of the past. Maybe that was why she'd chosen Art History as her major in college, because it combined to of her favorite subjects, art and history.
Sometimes she wished someone would invent a time machine, prove some theories wrong and prove that traveling to the past was a possibility. If she had the opportunity, so many places she would visit! Ancient Greece, Rome, Egypt! The centuries where great artists had lived, produced great art she'd spent hours looking at and studying and interpreting. What would it be like to meet Leonardo Da Vinci? Van Gogh? Maybe Vermeer or Renoir?
No wonder she liked to hear Stone talk about the past and the things he'd seen, the people he'd met. It made her feel like she was there, and, well, if you didn't have a time machine near at hand, the best thing yet was an old storytelling gargoyle. Who'd even met writers of really obscure books on Demons. What a life he must have lived!
"It had been on a small rampage through the city, targeting young male virgins for a empowering ritual that required their testicles." Realizing that he was talking about a demon stealing the testicles of young men, Stone quickly added "I'm terribly sorry, but I tend to get caught up in my old memories."
"Oh, that must have been... painful," Rhiannon winced at the thought of testicles being forcibly removed from someone. Or demons using them for rituals. Then again, she'd read a lot of strange rituals in books, which made use of the most incongruous of items. Some were completely laughable, whereas others had frightened Rhiannon. Did people really perform some of these rituals in the way described in these books? "And it's nothing to apologize for," she said gently. "Quite understandable, even. Not to mention, aside from the whole male virgins thing, I've quite enjoyed your stories."
"Oh, no, that's fine," she smiled. "I'll just wait out here...being completely overwhelmed." She let her fingers trace along the knots of a Celtic cross-engraved jewelry box, trying to forget how much her life had changed in the past 24 hours.
Rhiannon smiled at this, because it was exactly how she still felt whenever she entered this store and she'd been coming around here for years and been working full-time on it for over a week. It still amazed her the kind of things once could find within, some of which Rhiannon had never seen in any store catalog she'd ever consulted. After her grandmother left with the man to go browse old books, Rhiannon looked up at Stone.
"My grandmother has just found her long lost twin where books are concerned, it seems," A chuckle escaped her lips and then she looked over at the young woman who had been left alone. She motioned at Stone to follow her and approached the other woman.
"Hello there," she said softly. "I'm Rhiannon. We seem to have been abandoned in favor of dusty tomes." She looked down at the box the woman had in her hands and smiled. "I love that one. I wonder how they even get the metal to fold in these intricate knots at all."
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Post by Anna Kavanagh on Jun 23, 2006 12:23:14 GMT -5
"Hello there," she said softly. "I'm Rhiannon. We seem to have been abandoned in favor of dusty tomes." She looked down at the box the woman had in her hands and smiled. "I love that one. I wonder how they even get the metal to fold in these intricate knots at all."
"Well, that's the Irish for you," Anna sighed. "Masochists to the core, all of us." She held up her right hand bearing a silver Claddagh ring on one finger and a Celtic knot ring on the other as evidence of her own Irish heritage. "With a name like Rhiannon, I'm guessing you'd know. I'm Anna Kavanagh. Wesley is trying to help me out with something. And here's hoping the answers lie in that backroom of yours." She smiled weakly, turning over a dragon-embellished hourglass and letting the red sand funnel through it.
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Wesley
Bad Ass Demon Slayer
My ass is not pansy!
Posts: 434
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Post by Wesley on Jun 23, 2006 13:12:28 GMT -5
"Well then, shall we?"
Wes nodded and followed the woman into the back room, sparing a glance back at Anna. She looked understandably shocked to be in the presence of a gargoyle. But she was either taking it all in stride very well, or was good at hiding it.
The backroom of the shop was like many others, small and cool. The numerous candles on the walls threw shadows across the old tomes, giving it a very surreal effect. Siobhan moved to the end of a shelf, looking through some of the old books.
Wesley took a moment to look at the books on the shelves behind him, taking in some of the titles. A few he recognized from his own collection, some were books he'd never have a true use for, and still others he'd have to research on to see if he should acquire them or not. Sadly, aside from rent, most of his meager pay from Angel Investigations went to his book collection. He wondered briefly if he could write them off as a business expense. After all, where would they be if they went into every battle blind?
Six feet under...Or a dusty pile, in Angel's case.
"Found your 1923 edition of Buhman's book. Here we go. Is this the one you're looking for?"
He looked up when the woman spoke, watching her pull a few books out and stacking them on her desk. She held one of the old books out to him. He flipped through a few pages, the candles reflecting off his glasses as he looked. Then he nodded, giving the woman a smile. "That's the one. And I must say, it's in much better condition than the one I previously had."
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Post by Rhiannon Shaw on Jun 23, 2006 13:45:20 GMT -5
SIOBHAN
"That's the one. And I must say, it's in much better condition than the one I previously had."
"I was surprised myself at how good a condition it was in," Siobhan said. "But considering the source, I wasn't surprised. Got it from an old friend in Prague who collects various rare books. He's very careful with his books, almost obsessively so. He sold it to me for a very good price but that was only because I helped his wife when she was sick with a few herbal concoctions that happen to be very effective." Siobhan gave a contemptuous laugh. "Otherwise he'd have charged me an arm and a leg for it. Humpf, and he calls himself an old friend."
She shook her head and sat behind her desk, pointing at a nearby chair, inviting the man to sit down next to her. She picked up her reading glasses from the desk and placed them over her nose, taking a couple of books from the pile she'd gathered. "If you want to take a look at these, some may interest you."
She pointed at an heavy leather-bound book, which seemed to have been through a fire, since it had its edges burned out. Some of the pages were almost loose from the binding, yellowed from age. This was a book that had seen some centuries and it showed.
"That's the one I mentioned earlier. As you can see, this one is not in mint condition anymore. But it was fascinating to read."
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Wesley
Bad Ass Demon Slayer
My ass is not pansy!
Posts: 434
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Post by Wesley on Jun 23, 2006 14:04:05 GMT -5
Wesley nodded and gave her a slight smile when she recalled her story of how she'd gotten the book. He could sympathize with her. Quite a few times he'd been offered a rare book at a fantastic price. Of course, that's usually when the seller wanted your soul in return for the book...He thought for a moment, wondering how many times people had tried to buy his soul...
Siobhan moved to sit behind the small desk, motioning that Wesley could to the same. He did, peering at the old books in front of them. "If you want to take a look at these, some may interest you."
Wesley nodded, glancing at the titles on them. One of them was written in an ancient tongue that most people had forgotten even existed. Luckily, that was one of the languages the Watcher's Academy had pounded into the student's heads. Most old, and accurate, spellbooks and texts were written in this language.
He was peering at the titles when the woman spoke again, indicating the largest book in the stack. "That's the one I mentioned earlier. As you can see, this one is not in mint condition anymore. But it was fascinating to read."
He leaned forward, looking at the woman briefly to see if she protested, then opened the book. He carefully turned a few of the pages, peering at the text and the intricate illustrations. Most of the damage to the book was on the outer edges, leaving the middle parts of the pages perfectly legible. Some of the text at the top and bottom was a little hard to make out, though, because of the burn marks.
Something caught his eye and he leaned forward, then looked to the woman with an enthusiasm that often made him the target of Cordelia's puns. "They've got the Arlgock demon in here. Most text don't even acknoledge the existence of such a demon. This is fascinating," he said with a grin before turning back to the book.
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Post by Rhiannon Shaw on Jun 23, 2006 16:31:28 GMT -5
SIOBHAN
Siobhan had always had a special appreciation for books, and while she took great care with them, she did not behave like some collectors she had met in the past, who seemed to think their precious books were to be kept completely isolated from eyes and hands other than theirs. Yes, books were very precious, and some were worth fortunes, but they'd been written to be shared, not locked up in a dry room in some hermit's basement, unable to be read. It confused Siobhan to no end when people seemed to put the idea of a book above its usefulness. A book, no matter how old, was to be read. To be shared. And Siobhan loved to share the books she came across.
Most of her extra money, which did not come from the store but an investment fund her husband had started early in their marriage years, was spent on her finds. The store supported itself quite well and even gave profit, but there were certain things Siobhan mostly bought for herself, because she wanted, than for her shop. It didn't mean she would hold onto them for eternity (or as much of it as she could have). She liked to see the expressions of wonder on others faces when they read the books she made available to them.
Like Mr. Pryce now, whose face had lighted up as he consulted the old copy of the Encyclopaedia of the Daemon she'd managed to get her hands on a few months ago, after spending about five years searching for this particular edition, one of the few survivors of a fire that had burned down the mansion of a French aristocrat in the eighteen century.
"They've got the Arlgock demon in here. Most text don't even acknowledge the existence of such a demon. This is fascinating," he said with a grin before turning back to the book.
Siobhan grinned back at him but at the same time was racking her brain trying to recall exactly what an Arlgock demon was. She had already read the book cover to back (all 1420 pages of it), but there was so much information within it was impossible to memorize everything. She only recalled the vaguest of information about these Arlgock demons that had made Mr. Pryce so excited.
"They're... green and horned?" She asked hesitantly, furrowed brow in concentration as she tried to remember what she'd read about these particular demons when she'd come across their entry. Unlike most people, though, Siobhan did not mind to be corrected when she was wrong, nor did she mind when someone demonstrated a greater knowledge of some things than her. It meant she got to pick their minds for a few hours trying to obtain all sorts of interesting information.
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Wesley
Bad Ass Demon Slayer
My ass is not pansy!
Posts: 434
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Post by Wesley on Jun 23, 2006 17:27:31 GMT -5
"They're... green and horned?" the woman said, looking thoughtful.
Wesley shook his head lightly. "Actually they're quite yellow. Though some have been known take on a greenish tint if it's been a while since they've last bathed..." He turned a page, pointing to the picture before frowning. "Oh...but this artist has got it wrong. They haven't got a third eye, and they're missing the boney ridge down the spine."
He looked up at her, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "They're a distant member of the Tsan Shou demon clan. Tend to travel in groups. I believe the biggest clan of these demons was just rooted out and captured in London. Turns out they'd been living on street beggars and the like..." He trailed off, his attention diverted to another section of the text.
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