#mal gets bugged

From @ghouljams cod fae!au, Mal gets bugged by someone new.

Mal sat on the floor of their shop, large stone mortar and pestle between their legs as they ground madder roots for dyeing. Their mind was carefully blank, constructing the most neutral emotional state as possible, so as not to impart any one particular intent on the dye goods. In a lot of cases, Mal had to harvest and process things prior to knowing what they would actually be used for. This meant they’d had plenty of practice over the years in imparting as neutral an intent as possible on the goods they kept stocked.

The sound of the madder root slowly grinding into a powder against the aged stone was a familiar one, and Mal could pick out exactly when the powder was good enough by sound alone, going gradually from the popping and crushing of whole roots to the gentle hiss of smooth powder between ancient stones. But it wasn’t there yet. 

Mal felt a presence brush against the open curtains outside their shop, before there was a gentle knock at the door. They were in the zone though, mind blissfully blank, and felt no urgency to get the door. Afterall, the madder wasn’t finished yet. Large chunks still remained interspersed amongst the finer powder, which just wouldn’t do. 

By the time they were done, enough time had passed to cause the shadows to noticeably shift in the shop. They only felt a little bad at the prospect of having lost a customer, afterall their commission log stayed quite full these days. Cleaning up, Mal poured the fresh madder into its glass jar and found a spot for it on the large, over cluttered shelves along the wall of the shop. Preserved and processed dye plants from all over the world found their cozy home among these shelves. 

They felt the gentle brush of a presence against the wards of their shop once again, making them jump slightly. It felt familiar, like the one from earlier in the day, but that seemed unreasonable. Who would have waited this long? Witch could let herself in, and this felt different from that codependent pair, Love and Ghost. 

When Mal opened the door, they saw a handsome fae idly playing with the fabric of the exterior shop curtains. At the sound of the door he whipped around, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and smiled sheepishly. 

“Sorry about that, the craftsmanship is just amazing I couldn’t help myself. Did you make these?” 

“I did,” Mal said, “are you the one from earlier?”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t mind waiting though, you seemed busy.”

Huh. “Are you looking to come in?” 

His smile brightened, “If you don’t mind. I’ve heard such good things about your work.” 

“You’re welcome in, for this transaction,” Mal said, opening the door wider and feeling the ward surround him like a bubble as he slipped inside. He looked around the shop with wonder, full to the brim with textiles, fiber, dyestuffs, and more. Seemingly forgetting they were there, he strolled around the shop gently touching and admiring everything on display. 

Eventually Mal’s patience wore out. They cleared their throat, losing their train of thought for a second when he swiftly turned his head, giving them his full attention. His eyes were a warm brown, almost yellowish in the afternoon light, and his gaze felt heavy with. . .something.

Quickly recovering, they said, “So, did you have something you were looking for?” Mal really wanted to say ‘What do you want’, but decades spent getting coached by friends on ‘social niceties’ taught them that that would seem ‘rude’. He joined Mal at the high counter top that doubled as a crafting and consultation station, resting his elbows against it and settling in. His eyes were even more brilliant up close. 

He sighed through his nose, pursing his lips in thought before saying, “No, not really.”

Mal’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

He shrugged, “There’s not really anything I’m looking for right now.”

“Then why did you come in? Don’t you have something you want? A new obscura, protective wear?” 

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. A small smile bloomed on his face, seemingly amused at their confusion. 

“Then why are you here?” 

He swung his arms open wide, once again taking in the splendor of the shop, “Like I said, I’ve heard such good things about you and your work, and I've peered into your shop once or twice while I've been out and about. I just had to come in and. . .”

Once again he dropped down onto his elbows, leaning over the counter slightly. His eyes quickly flickered up and down, before staring straight into their eyes, “. . .see what all the fuss is about.” 

Mal hummed, oblivious to the once over and took a look at the clock, “Well, I hope your perusal was satisfactory, the shop is closing soon. For future reference it would be helpful to have some kind of idea when you come in.” 

As the clock struck the hour, the ward that had bubbled around the newcomer constricted slightly and his eyes briefly flashed with shock and alarm. It wasn’t a dangerous pressure (yet), but it was uncomfortable and seemed to be pressing most towards the direction of the door. 

He flashed Mal a dashing smile as he walked backwards towards the door, aided by the ward to keep him from knocking anything over, “I’ll be seeing you around then.”