plagued.

       they would never be willing to admit such a thing, but move mean a significant drain on their power, enough to make them leave the shop closed for a night before they opened again. their sleep patterns are rough at best, leaving them to spend the hours in the back room, organizing or checking over the arcane carvings of powerful objects. the storeroom itself is covered over with sigils and iovita’s handiwork – all of which currently usually lie dormant. it’s when they light up that iovita should be worried. 

      like right now.

      it’s one on the back wall, rasping to life. a line has been broken; a minor one, but a concern nonetheless. carefully, they reach for the nearest weapon ( a shotgun, and a quick grab for one of the bullets that were sold with it ). the gun would be enough to scare off a human, and the spellwork backing it enough to damage those things that, well, aren’t of human origin. 

     they move softly into the shop, trailing the movement that they can see. someone, moving around their shop and looking at their ingredients. and to break in when they would be open the very next day? what a rude endeavor this person has taken on. mildly peeved is a good way to put it if one were to underestimate iovita’s anger at this intrusion, and they take their first chance to level the barrel at her head. she’s the one to oh-so-deftly move it away, and iovita doesn’t both to speak until she’s finished, instead watching her with a cold look.

     they lift an eyebrow, evidently unimpressed. the gun finds a new home on a nearby shelf, and they fold their arms across their chest. how many times had they placed down in another witch’s territory? too many to count – if they even bothered with the trivial matter in the first place. it was the same gist every time, which tended to go a little something like this —

     “you can bare your teeth all you like. in a week the shop and I will be gone. although,” and here is where that antagonistic glitter enters their eye, “if you have anything else to say on the matter, then maybe I won’t complain to staying a little longer.”

    ALCINA calmly set the grimoire down, looking at her own disembodied reflection in a jar instead: as if she had all the time in the world.  ‘  no need to get all hostile, it’s very unbecoming of you,  ’  she said, tapping her fingernail on the murky surface -- CLINK.  ‘  if you think i’m here to EVICT you you’re wrong. i’ve come to intimidate you into submission.  ’  a smile, innocent as can be, PERUSING their goods, smelling of the cinnamon sticks.  ‘  we can have a little agreement if you’d like. don’t come near my customers or i’ll flay you alive and then feed you to my HOUNDS.  ’  she recalled the last time that happened. a young witch, thinking she had been smart enough to INTERCEPT her business.

    ‘  this little shop is nice, too -- i’d like for it to stay, of course, if it’s convenient for you. nirnroot is hard to come by.  ’  she tapped her temple, looking towards the one who had a MURDEROUS gaze.  ‘  manhattan is CRAWLING with witches, sweetpea. if i evicted every one of them it’d look bad for ME.  ’  she dropped the cinnamon stick back into its basket, making a seat on the wooden table, ALL too comfortable.  ‘  i can sense you’re quite powerful too. best not to BLOW UP new york city, yeah?  ’