. (spacecowboys) wrote in repose, @ 2020-06-14 18:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, beckett north, dinah north, mari lagos |
[Outside the antique store: Mari & Dinah & Beckett]
Who: Mari Lagos & Dinah North & Beckett North
What: The store
Where: Outside Antiguedades y Botanica
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Nada
It was mid-morning, and Mari stood in front of the store, chin tipped up and attention on the windows and the items visible there. Items which all clustered, as if in an attempt to catch the attention of passersby. Stained glass, lamps, statues in bronze, shelves in rich oak, they all vied for the notice of Repose's residents. Mari was not romantic or ridiculous, and she didn't believe the items were really vying, not in a sentient sense. But the power in the universe was an odd thing, and the items within the antique store had all lived previous lives. When she walked among the musty books and dusty tschotskes, she could feel them reaching for her. She'd touched some of the items, met them and known them, and dusted them clean. From the antiques, she'd learned about the man who ran the store before her, and it helped her form a better picture of someone whose name she'd heard in New York. This morning, she was looking, shoulders hunched, her demeanor somewhat twitchy as she repeatedly pushed her hair behind her ears; she did not look like a person who would be twitchy, but such was the day. The sun was out, and summer was here, but she was dressed warmly in jeans and layers, despite the sun's warming of her skin. Her scalp could feel every golden ray, but she didn't go inside yet. Instead, she strolled from one window to the next. Repose was an interesting place. She hadn't expected a small town with so much strangeness to it. This place didn't feel like home, but it didn't feel like New York or Miami. It felt charged, alive, and dark. But Mari wasn't afraid of dark energy. There was dark in the world, and there was light, and both lived in every single being. This town was more shadow than brightness, but that didn't mean the bright sparks weren't blinding. She thought she would like it here. She'd placed ads in the Capital's newspaper, and she'd left cards with businesses that might be friendly to her there. She hadn't done the same here, because she thought it best not to, at least not immediately. But she'd already had a client drive in that morning, an older woman who sought despojo, and Mari still smelled of the baño she'd made for the woman. Grass, oranges, and almonds all clung to her skin and clothing, warmed by the sun and made more pungent. "¿Que bola?" she asked of one window, knowing the window wouldn't answer her. |