fill me with a whirlwind

That was suddenly quite a lot to take into consideration. But ticking down the boxes he came to what he knew would work the best rather easily, “Polished. She’s not the raw variety. More buttoned up. I obviously didn’t take into consideration the complex logistics of buying a fancy, magical rock.” He turned his head towards the other male, grinning at his fishing, “No. Not that type of friend.” He looked at the other for a beat, his tongue running along his lower lip before he turned back to the wall. He shook his head and chuckled softly, “Okay, polished, small enough to fit into one of those ridiculously small purses if necessary.” He looked at the wall and pointed at one, that seemed to fit the criteria, “Maybe that one.” He hooked a finger on the bridge of his glasses and drew them down his nose to be sure he really knew what the color looked like. He picked it up and turned back to the clerk that had been helping him, his blue eyes looking at the crystal and then up, over his glasses to the other male. Before he straightened his head and put his glasses back in place. Satisfied that he’d found something that fit what he was looking for he gestured to the front of the stall, “It says out front that you do tarot readings here? Do you do them? Or is it someone else?” Unstated implicit statement in his tone of questions being that he was only really interested if Tristan was the one doing them.

“I mean typically jewelry in general is a complicated thing to buy. Especially if it’s a fancy rock. All of those C’s and whatnot.” Which was something he never quite understood, but the idea of following any kind of ‘tradition’ at this point almost irked him. He’d make a note for future reference to find somebody who didn’t care much about any of those things. Not that he really thought marriage was an option considering his current situation, but he could dream and self deprecate on his own time. Stepping closer to the shelf and looking along it, Tris tapped at the aforementioned display of polished green stones ringed in black. “Malachite is good for emotional health. Supposed to bring about inner peace.” Looking further down the shelf, he nodded towards a box of polished black stones. “And then there’s onyx that’s like the all around protection guy. Not the most interesting looking stone but it makes for simple pieces.” At the sound of the ‘T word’ his attention snapped back to the stranger. “Yeah I do them. Kind of a hobby but my grandmother always told me if you’re good at something you shouldn’t do it for free.” The shrug of his shoulders was casual but his grin was wry, just bordering cocky. He had a deck for this guy, too. Sleek and black with occult symbols along the back of them.

Ghost wasn’t the most observant when it came to strangers in New York, you know, he saw a lot of people every day. If he had to remember the faces of every tourist he saw at the zoo, he’d go insane. 300 was a lot of years and a lot of faces to commit to memory.

But he thought he remembered this guy, for what it was worth, he vaguely recalled the unruly hair. Not uncommon in New York these days, either, but maybe there was something about his face that made it a memorable one. Or maybe it was just that the way he looked up was kind of a boost to Ghost’s ego and the oneiroi was feeling satisfied. “There’s no such thing as enough caffeine, I’m in constant need for more,” he responded, shrugging and having another sip of his coffee. “Been thinking of just starting a coffee shop crawl.”

“Healthier than a bar crawl.” Tris mused as he reached to brush a hand through the front of his hair to push it away from his face. “Arguably more productive.” Not like he really had anything to use the caffeine for after his work day was over besides staying up to maybe read or go bother his sibling. “Are you offerin’? Or just thinkin’ out loud?” He looked to the big guy curiously with a quirked brow, his hands retreating to the pockets of his coat. This person was a stranger, one he’d seen around before, but ultimately one he didn’t know anything about other than that he apparently bought a lot of coffee. It’d be kind of risky, to go hang around with someone new but also exciting. Exciting was definitely what he needed at this point before he was bored to death. “Because I don’t have anywhere to be ‘til noon tomorrow.” No one else to bother, either. Which was downright depressing. Maybe he’d be better off with the actual bar crawl route.

As the distance closed between them, Alexandre became more and more sure that this man felt the same as Gallagher. He was there, but he wasn’t really. The smile widened on Alexandre’s lips. The stranger was a shade, no doubt about it. He almost became giddy. Their kind was rare, the magically undead, and the only other one he had ever met was Gallagher. Now Alexandre was not a very good liar, but he had spent enough time with his favourite Basilisk to know how you got away with a thing or two. 

He tilted his head to the side, relaxing his shoulders, but still he had trouble hiding his excitement. “Nah.” A chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “It… It doesn’t, no. And right now I look like quite the dumbass, don’t I?” He paused for a moment, wondering how he would proceed to tell the other that they were one and the same – phantoms in human clothing. Then, he extended a hand. “Alexandre Revere, not a witch, but you could sense that, couldn’t you?”

Sense that. The guy had visibly relaxed but still seemed eager to talk. Tris looked down at the hand offered out to him, mouth set in a hard line. Wasn’t a witch, he knew that feeling, he knew them. He didn’t seem like a vampire, didn’t quite have that kind of grace about him. Wolves, shifters, anything else, he wasn’t quite…Just taking a moment to feel, something felt off but not in a particularly bad way. There was the ever present underlying pang of paranoia combined with that little spark of excitement he got when he met a new person. Which was a terrible feeling, really. One that never really went away. “Tris Sylva, and yeah, look kind of like a dumbass right now.” But so did he as he willed himself to relax and reach for the other’s hand, giving it a firm shake, his other hand clapping lightly over the back of Alexandre’s hand. A small gesture, but an attempt at making things a bit more casual. That’s something he couldn’t get over, how damn formal everyone in the city seemed when it came to each other. “Definitely not a witch, that’s for sure.”  Hands retreating back into his pockets, he gave a shrug of his shoulders as he studied this handsome not-quite-a-stranger. 

The boy put down what he was doing and came over to Cyrus, the Basilisk giving him an appreciative smile. He faced the wall but watched the other with his peripheral vision and the reflection in his sunglasses. The tall man shrugged, lifting his hand to rub his chin thoughtfully, “I’m not the best at the planning part. I usually just have an idea and run with it.” That was truth, oddly enough. He chuckled, “I don’t normally buy work friends jewelry. But at this point in The City, I think she’ll accept it in the spirit it is given,” He turned to look at the other as he spoke, knowledgable, matter-of-fact. He liked this one, “It would make more sense for it to be something for them to carry around.” He reached one long fingered hand out to hover closer to a quartz like stone before dropping his hand without touching anything. “If it were you, what would you do?” His eyes drifted back down to the other, waiting patiently.

Wore sunglasses indoors, bought coworkers gifts, just ran with things. Alright, somewhat free spirited and considerate coworker who had a strong sense of style. “Would probably consider what she wears normally and go from there. What she does for a living, too. From there you can kind of figure out if you want to go the route of a raw crystal or something polished.” Tris fought the urge to reach for the bracelet on his left wrist and touch one of the rounded amethyst beads there. Presents were something he was actually pretty good at. He liked giving in general, liked surprising people. Or maybe it’s just that he associated giving gifts as a means to show affection, they were a romantic gesture. On that train of thought...  Scratching at the side of his neck, he couldn’t help but give Mr. Sunglasses a sly grin. “I mean, your feelings towards her and hers toward you kind of factor in, too. I’ve got a ton of candles etched with sigils, various sachets of herbs, stuff like that.”

Around witches, Alexandre could feel their presence like a tickling feeling at the back of his neck. The Frey was full of them, their magic bouncing of the shade like static electricity causing the hairs on his arms to stand up under his leather jacket. He did not know the cause of it, just like he couldn’t explain that no matter the face they took, he could always feel whenever Ghost or Khatri was in the room. He had been a shade for little under a decade, able to master his abilities with mentoring and support, but these tiny details of his undead existence were still a mystery. And now, amongst the witches of the Frey, a new but still surprisingly familiar feeling. It made him remember the day he first met Gallagher, the kinship of another ghostly character. 

So, he had followed the other. Despite his nature, Alexandre was not a subtle man. Curiosity lured him closer and closer, and he realised just how suspicious he looked as the other man spoke up. Sheepishly, he stepped out of a stall where he had pretended to brows odd looking jewellery. “Oh…” He smiled the smile that had gotten him out of countless of messes before, stepping closer to the stranger. “This is going to sound like the world’s worst pickup line, but I feel like I know you. Have we met somewhere before?” 

If this wouldn’t have been so damn weird of a situation, he would have probably said something along the lines of ‘I would remember you’, because under different circumstances, he might not have minded an actual pick up line. This guy was attractive with his high cheekbones, chiseled jaw and smile that he’d bet got him out of trouble. Tris knew that look too well and for just a moment he felt an all too familiar pang of loss in his chest. This wasn’t a witch though, he didn’t feel that weird prickle to his skin he got when he was around them. The Frey was full of supernaturals, he could be anything. But if he wasn’t a witch, he highly doubted he knew him from anywhere. It’s not like he really made a lot of friends in the city.

 He should be more worried about the idea of someone recognizing him, but in a weird way, he almost wanted someone to. The city didn’t hold much for him aside from magic and his sister, he was constantly reminded that he was both a) alone, and b) ultimately somewhat bored. It was stupid to be inviting some kind of danger into this new life, but it would be something. “No. No we haven’t.” Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, his tone was still a bit sharp. “Does that shit work for you?” He bet it did, he was annoyed, but he wasn’t blind. 

Crystals and books and bodkins and what-have-yous. He liked the Frey on colder days because it was always warmer down there then it was on the street level. He should have remembered that they were closing in on the holiday store madness but the press of people always made everything so much warmer. He’d buy what he wanted but he came out to be around body heat. And to look around for anything that struck his fancy. The crystals were pretty and appealed to his magpie like personality, drawing him in though he had no real use for them. Even after the other patrons had left Cyrus lingered, mostly because the male putting away books was very attractive and Cyrus did so like collecting pretty things. He turned his head more fully when he was addressed, nice voice to go with the nice face and nice butt. Always a plus. He gave the other male a short nod, “Hmmm? Oh, yes. But I had this idea to get a coworker something to do with protection and healing but standing here I realize I have no idea what I’m looking for.” Which was only partially untrue. Having spent most of his life around witches he knew the basics, not that it would help him at all, he could identify certain things, though his knowledge tended to skew to the dark. 

Alright, so Mr. Sunglasses was sweeter than his ‘too cool’ demeanor would suggest. Or at least a polite coworker. Abandoning his mission of sorting books, Tris stepped over towards the wall  of crystals and looked at them with a hand on his hip. Various clusters and single shards in boxes in their raw states or polished and rounded off and organized by name. “I mean, is this like something you want them to be able to keep on their person? Because crystals are easy to incorporate into jewelry and call it a day.” Which sounded lazy, but he could get more ambitious about it, if he wanted. Depended on how much he cared about this coworker. “Any single stone or raw shard can be made into something, really. Owner is really good at protection spells in general and she takes care of all of that in house.” He gave a casual shrug of his shoulders, hooked his thumb in the pocket of his jeans. “Like do you want this to be at their home? Workplace?” You gotta work with me here, man. It’s not like he wasn’t actually interested, the idea of a supernatural just casually buying a coworker a gift like it was a normal thing, was actually kind of hilarious. 

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

“I know rom-coms have made it seem endearing or cute to just kind of stare at people in public, and maybe I’m a little flattered, but do you want something or are you just a fuckin’ creep?” Against his better judgement, and with a heavy sigh, he’d whipped around and walked the few feet across the pavement to the stranger, more annoyed than actually angry. Being a smartass wasn’t the smart, nor polite thing to do, but it wasn’t really smart nor polite to be closely watching people in public either.  @pcltergcist