tampered | log: COMPLETE

log: COMPLETE

When; RIGHT NOW GDI. October 29; Afternoon/Evening
Rating; idk PG-13
Characters; Severus Snape (

eduronox) & Ruby (

blackeyedskank)
Summary; Two black-eyed bitches live in this City. It was only a matter of time.
Log;

It didn't take Ruby long to figure out that this town had a store that sold the sorts of things that she was interested in. On top of being clever in her own special, manipulative way, she'd spent a good amount of time scouring the city before actually making contact with anyone. Granted, that time had only been a few hours but when you could get around as quickly as someone like Ruby could, hours tended to melt into days and minutes stretched out to encompass more than enough time to mark out points and places of worth, places to come back to later. And this little shop is one of them: so charming, so cozy, so utterly bleak that it practically calls out to people of Ruby's caliber. Or species.

She stands on the opposite curb for a minute before crossing the empty street, her heeled boots clicking across the pavement. Ruby isn't entirely positive what she plans on lifting from the store, if anything, but she's curious enough to want to poke around. She knows a bit about who runs the place, in a manner, though she'd prefer to see things for herself, just as she'd preferred to dig her fingers into Sam and feel him out before telling him anything about anything.

Not that she plans on coming out of the closet in this place, so to speak, but Ruby has a feeling that Dean will take care of that before anyone has the chance to figure it out on their own.

Across the street, she pulls open the door and steps inside. It's quiet, smells a little strange, and empty, and she has the immediate sensation of a weight down her back, something that keeps her on edge, keeps her on her toes despite the fact that she can ease herself into any (most) situations. It almost has the same sensation of being in a Devil's trap, although she's still capable of moving around - that oppressive, caged feeling of being stuck, trapped, pinged by what you are. Ruby grins, though, not letting it bother her, running her fingertips over things on shelves, almost waiting to be found out in some way. At least it would be entertaining.

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Wards were interesting things; no matter the power dampening of the City, they always seemed to do their job. Entering any domain of Severus Snape meant you gave yourself over to his territory. Most people did not notice and were not capable of noticing.

When the soft noise alerts him to someone having crossed over the wards at the threshold, he can tell by the tone of it that whomever it is isn't his regular customer - Severus keeps stock of who browses and who buys, and it's very rarely non-human. Those who aren't rarely have use for things like magics and potions.

He steps into the main store, in the process of rolling his sleeves back down, having been working on something to pass the time. He can tell there's something off about her just by looking.

"Can I help you with something?"

Ruby isn't exactly started or surprised. Then again, she doesn't get the impression that this guy was trying to sneak up on her in any capacity and even if he had been, she would have noticed anyway. There isn't a lot you can pull over her eyes - after all, demon - but she's always amused and smitten like a kitten when it does happen.

Fortunately, this is not the case, and she only turns around nonchalantly, a bottle of something or other gripped in the circle of her forefinger and thumb. It takes her a moment, surveying the man in front of her, but she eventually smiles and says, "Just looking. Browsing isn't against the rules, is it? It's been a long, long time since I've seen half of this stuff. Wal-Mart just doesn't have the same quality of newt eyes as it used to."

This is said in a manner that implies entirely that, even if it were against the rules, she'd go on doing it anyway.

Severus, on his part, is entirely nonplussed, and the look he gives her is particularly blank. He finishes buttoning up the cuffs of his shirt, and moves to behind. the service counter.

"I'm afraid quips about the Americas are entirely lost on me," he says, unconcerned, and picks up a book that he'd left earlier.

"America is all white trash and discounts," she replies, as if she's been outside of the Americas more than she's been in them. Which is entirely possible, but highly unlikely, crawling out of Hell and all. Then again, considering the type of people she's surrounded herself with when she is around them at all....

Not so surprising about the white trash thing.

The distinct discomfort she feels isn't lost and remains, in fact, entirely prevalent, but Ruby goes on as if it doesn't bother her. "Too bad, though. I was looking forward to shooting the shit about the US with someone for once, but we can't get everything we want. So do you have any house specials or is this more along the lines of Build-A-Bear?" Because she wants to compare. Witches might be whores, but Ruby is a damn good one. Witch, that is, not a whore, Dean.

He doesn't point out that he's not an American, but continues to more or less ignore her, black eyes focused on his book. He only glances up when she asks, and he has to wonder if she's intentionally forcing more cultural references into her speech in an attempt to annoy him.

"What are you looking for?"

If she's looking to process a massive order, he might discount it.

It's entirely likely that this is exactly what she's doing. Part of Ruby's purpose for existing is to annoy people. It comes with the package, it's part of the deal, it makes her laugh when no one is looking. Base human emotions and instincts she has no business feeling but does regardless.

Also, she notes the blackness of his eyes and smiles again, continuing to roam through the shelves. Ruby knows better than to think he's a demon - she's not that stupid - but it's still something that gives her reason to grin anyway.

"Something to combat the effects of curses or anything else this place might throw my - or someone else's - way," she replies, picking up a few small, dark phials and shaking them to listen to the ingredients grind against each other. Ruby has a package in this place she needs to keep an eye on, after all. It'd be stupid to let her wild card get fucked up beyond belief.

"There is no way to combat the curses placed on the populace by the City itself," he says, and there's an edge of 'you're a retarded first year Gryffindor' creeping into his voice.

"Be more specific."

She catches the edge of that tone and quips back immediately with her own edge of 'I bet your mommy never hugged you as a child.' "Then this stuff is worthless, as far as the curses go. What. A. Waste." Ruby tosses the phial she was holding haphazardly on the shelf with an air of not-unexpected disappointment, exasperation, unnecessary woe-is-me suffering. "That doesn't count out citizens, though. Any practicing witches you know about or does this place of yours just cater to little girls with stars in their eyes hoping to catch Jimmy's eye at the lunch table? Because if that's the case I'd rather not waste my time trying to fight off love potions."

By now she's questioning him half because she wants answers and half because she wants to be a pain.

So, Ruby, this is someone who's been teaching for the better part of twenty years, and has trampled the souls of even various generations of Weasleys. He's just going to lean his elbows on the table and clasp his hands together near his mouth and lounge there, watching you with a vague expression of incredulity and pity.

Your point can come any time now, sweetheart.

There's likely a long moment of staring back, eyebrows raised, expectant. She kind of wants to punch him in the face and wonders if it'd be possible, but it wouldn't be beneficial to press her position. She tightens her lips. Well. She has one potion that's always been helpful to her, or people around her, and she was even so kind as to write the basic ingredients down on a slip of paper in a surprisingly tidy scrawl.

With the general air of someone who'd rather not, she approaches the counter and digs the slip of paper out of her pocket. "I want these."

Pale, slender finger take the sheet of paper. He sits up and looks it over. With the ease of someone who has been doing this for far too long, he immediately puts together in his mind everything she could possibly make from her intended selection. It strikes him as a bit odd, because all the notions are so old.

He points his wand at the shelves in the store proper and things begin floating over to settle neatly on the counter, and he steps into the back room once more to collect another two or three things.

She almost laughs at the wand use, though not until he's out of the room. Fingering through the bottles, she opens some of the caps and stoppers to smell and peer inside. Ruby has always had a more hands-on approach to the subject, which is part of the reason why using a wand makes her laugh, at least as far as potions goes. Sure there are branches of witchcraft she prodded at back in her day that were more... instrument based (hence, wand) but that sort of thing just strikes her as odd now.

While he's in the back room, she pockets something that looks useful but that she has no real purpose for obtaining. But it never hurts to have extra. He'll probably know that she snatched it, but she's always had the luxury of not caring, really. In the meantime, she follows the path he took and pokes her head through the door that he walked through, intrusive, vaguely irritating.

"You definitely know how to keep a stocked house." The air of the sentence being unfinished is there, because she hasn't thought of a fun nickname for him yet.

He returns and begins to box up her items, giving her a look with raised eyebrows, still not impressed. After a moment he holds up one container.

"If you're looking to make a regenerative substance, you can replace this with a mixture of thyme and owl blood. It'll work better."

He's aware she's pocketed something - though there's no comment about it. Yet.

Ruby returns the look, also not impressed. Then again, she's not impressed with a lot of things.

"I'll jot that down in my dream journal," she says, picking up a stylus and touching the tip of her thumb to it. "Any other new world recommendations I should know about? All of my practices are a little old fashioned. Effective, but probably even before your time. Maybe."

"It's Romanian, circa 14th century," he says, tapping her list. "Advancements have been made."

There is something about his tone that implies and unspoken 'dumbass' at the end, there.

Which explains, somewhat, why it'd be new to her. Ruby was a little busy being subjected to Hell at that time. "Technology always did manage to ruin good things," she replies, the same unspoken 'dumbass' there at the end.

"Or at least confuse idiots incapable of progressive learning."

She shrugs. "I've always been a stickler for tradition." which is why she has a cell phone, right. "But I'll definitely pass that message along to someone who's an idiot. A few people come to mind."

"They do indeed."

He calculates her total and repeats it, bland.

"Open a tab." Not that she intends on ever paying it.

"No."

Sorry, Ruby, you pay up front or you don't get anything.

She hasn't been do this place's equivalent of a bank yet for exchange, and all she has in her pockets are American dollars. Mainly, she's used to taking what she wants and moving on in life, but the funny thing about this place is that you can't leave it behind and strand some poor corner store clerk wondering if he really saw blacked-out eyes or if he just wet himself because he had too much pop that day.

Not that she cares if people here know she's a demon, but humans tend to be so racist sometimes.

"What if I asked really nicely and pinkie swore?" She pulls out her cash anyway.

"I'm sure that's very adorable, but the price stands."

He counts her cash. "This exchanges out to about a third of it, not counting your pockets."

She starts to snap something about her pockets but just has to close her mouth and grin. "Nothing gets by you, does it?"

"I am sure that there are things that do," he says, mild. "I imagine you are simply too new to the City to have found any kind of income supplement."

"Practically a virgin touched for the very first time," she replies, going back to picking through some of the things on the counter. She likes the stylus. It's sharp enough to remind her of her knife, which she wants back. "I don't know what kind of job would hire someone like me, though. Or what kind of job someone like me would actually look for. I don't really stay in one place for very long."

"Pity for you, then, isn't it."

Yes, Ruby, he's going to make you ask what you can do to pay him back.

Well they're going to be standing here for a very long time then, aren't they?

"I've been in stickier situations."

He begins putting the items away, slightly annoyed.

"Don't come back in unless you've got the money," he says. "I don't take well to people wasting my time."

Ruby grabs the box before he can take it away, and her grip is deceptively strong for someone of her size.

"I'm not going to ask," she says, and has to fight with herself not to darken her eyes. It likely would be a waste on a wizard anyway. "So you tell me."

The look he gives her is one of amusement, like he's won something. Her strength doesn't surprise him - strong as she is, if she makes a move against him inside this shop, she'll end up the one in pain.

"I don't deal in second-hand wares," he says, mocking. Her soul is already sold.

Ruby isn't stupid. She understands that there are wards in place, can still them bearing down, but she doesn't let that fact show on her face.

"Then I guess you'll just have to think of something else," she replies, and there might be, maybe, the briefest flick of black there. Nothing threatening, nothing wholly obvious, but she understands by degrees that he understands by degrees. It's kind of fun.

"Or I could throw you out."

Hey, it's an option.

You could try. "You could do that."

And then he'd never be rid of her.

He pulls the box away from her.

... This is going to be interesting.

She pulls the box back toward her.

This is going to be long-lasting and retarded.

Oh, well. Fine then.

He reaches out with his other hand and grasps her wrist, and mutters a rather dark severing spell. It's nothing deep enough or strong enough to do any real damage to her, but it'll hurt like a bitch.

This continues as dragging her out - kicking and screaming if necessary - and dumping her outside the door.

She could throw him off. She could beat his ass so easily. She could throw him back into his shelves and his bottles and take her box and go. She could kill him if she wanted to, but she really is too busy hollering to do anything about it. It's not necessarily screaming - Ruby doesn't scream, even when the demon she sold her soul to was beating the Hell out of her, literally, she barely groaned - but she is yelling, and when he gets her outside, she shoves him away from her forcefully.

"That was cheap trick." It's not trick or a maybe now: her eyes are black as the inside of a cat and narrowed. One day, she's going to return this favor in kind.

Edited 2008-10-30 02:39 (UTC)

He doesn't care, even if a few people are staring. He's gained a reputation on this block, anyway - a reputation of 'let's just ignore him, it's for the best'. He shoves her down and stands over her, something of a sneer on his face.

And then he drops that box in front of her.

"They have unicorns in the zoo. I'd like one. I don't want it connected to me."

A whirl of black cloth and a slammed door - he's gone.

Ruby is already on her feet before he can even shut the door, and she raises an eyebrow. She'll get him a unicorn. But he never said how he wanted it: dead, alive, whole, in pieces.

She picks up her box with a grin and by the time a group of teenagers passes between her and the shop, she's disappeared.

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log: COMPLETE

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