Needful Things, Grand Opening, Wednesday
There was something ever so exciting about a Grand Opening. Leland Gaunt was rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He had fully unpacked. His items were carefully set out on displays -- still no price tags. Price tags only hampered one's ability to haggle, and he loved haggling.
The sign in the window now read
GRAND OPENING
NEEDFUL THINGS ( Read more... )
The sign in the window now read
GRAND OPENING
NEEDFUL THINGS ( Read more... )
"Antique shop, huh?" he said aloud as he walked in. Honestly, he was a little surprised Fandom didn't have one already. "'Bout time, I suppose."
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"Hello there!" he said brightly. "I agree with you, high time indeed. Welcome to my establishment! You are my very first customer, and you are very welcome indeed."
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"Forgive me," he said. "I don't shake hands if I can help it. Nothing personal, I assure you."
He was listening attentively to the rest. "The diner?" he asked. "I saw one named Luke's, on my way through town. Would that be yours?"
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Whereas Luke was hard to mispronounce.
"I do pride myself on my collection," Leland said, eyeing the shelves thoughtfully. "Tell me, is it true that this island is ... somewhat unusual? A place where perhaps, a peddler need not lie about his more interesting items?"
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Besides, groping antiques was just impolite.
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It was anybody's guess if he meant that.
"That was, indeed, what I was referring to," he said. "Magical items. The unusual and rare. I make a hobby of collecting them, but some locations, I have to be circumspect about what it is that I sell. Imagine trying to sell a mermaid's comb to a young lady who doesn't believe in mermaids."
The books were properly dusty, the way old and rare books ought to be. Some of the titles were in runes, or symbols; others had odd-sounding titles. There was a copy of Shakespeare's First Folio, and one of John James Audobon's Birds of America, alongside scribbled notebooks and diaries from famous dignitaries from many worlds.
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The folio would be an amazing gift for Sophie, but if he was getting her something, he should find something for Nate, too. He made a mental note and kept going, nearly walking right past the jewelry case. Nate wasn't much for that, outside of a con, and anyway, the stuff in the case was too rustic, all wood beads and shells and bone and --
Eliot stopped, then backed up a step, eyes not quite so much drawn as snapping to a particular piece.
"Maybe some. . . ." What had he been talking about? "Dragon scales or somethin'?"
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"Not so many mermaid combs," Leland said, his tone still light even as his eyes narrowed. "Dragon scales, those are useful, but hard to come by."
He had sauntered over, lazily, towards the jewelry counter, as casual as he could seem.
"Some lovely pieces here," he said. "If one goes in for that sort of thing. Claws, teeth, and scales. It's all very feral. Some of them have the oddest inscriptions."
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It was a distinctive claw.
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He counted over with his fingers to the one Eliot was looking at, and squinted at a sheet of paper taped to the inside of the case.
"If you mean this one," he said, lifting it from its hook as he spoke, "then yes, eastern wolf. Not mystical, but distinctive. The trader I obtained it from claimed it was a very popular style."
He brought the necklace around in front of the case, so Eliot could get a better look.
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As if that would somehow be a problem, if Eliot were to steal this now.
He had his eyebrows raised, an expression of mild interest on his face. "Is it so like the one you lost?" he asked. "A happy find indeed."
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the one you feed
"How much?"
The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about it. Rookie move, that. Letting the sales guy know how much he wanted it. No way to start a negotiation.
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"That's a poor start indeed," he said. "You know, I feel that haggling is like a dance. It's like seducing a beautiful woman. One doesn't approach her and ask for a room key."
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