maskormenacelogs | stop citing authors from other worlds in your arguments

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stop citing authors from other worlds in your arguments

WHO: Billy Kaplan & Jonathan Strange
WHERE: Enchantments, Rare Books and Tea Room aka Billy's magic shop that somehow doesn't have tea to begin with???
WHEN: some nebulous time after Strange's post and pre sleep plot
WHAT: nerdy magic talk from the nerdy magicians
WARNINGS: none, will edit as needed

It's a good thing for both parties that Strange hasn't actually ever visited a magic shop before. Oh, there were certainly people that sold magical items--or 'magical' items as the case may be. Norrell had cast out most of the street magicians before Strange arrived in London but he still heard storied about them, people who set up little tents in the streets, selling restorative tonics that made you sick, casting charms of protection that did absolutely nothing, and telling your fortune while picking your pocket.

Billy, by virtue of actually having a building for his shop, is certainly winning the respectability prize. Strange still looks entirely too 1800s in his attire, but enough people have made fun of his cravat that the fabric's been petulantly shoved in his coat pocket. Likewise, the top button of his shirt is unbuttoned, in a sort of half-hearted attempt at fitting in. He can adapt! He's adapting perfectly, just ignore the fact that it took him twice as long as expected to get here and he had to swallow his pride and ask for directions when he inevitably got lost.

On the bright side, Strange knows how to mapquest things now. Baby steps for adjusting.

The bell rings as Strange enters the shop. However, instead of announcing his presence or anything, he almost instantly gets distracted, making a beeline to a small display set up on the side. When Billy enters from the back, he'll find Strange thumbing through a deck of tarot cards, idly looking them over. "You know, I've never actually learned how to read the cards. At least where I'm from, a magician reading the cards is a bit of a cliche, but my mentor thought it wasn't respectable so it never came up in my studies."

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It's a good thing that the magic shop is actually kind of not so bad inside. There's a few displays, a few bookshelves, a cat in a cat basket in the window. It looks like an old-fashioned shop, complete with a slight layer of oddity over it. In other words, perfect for a magic shop, especially one that specializes in real magic.

Billy hears the bell and comes out from the back, where he was eating a sandwich, a sandwich he is now holding in one hand. The man in front of him, is, well. Billy's seen weirder. "Well, we don't sell a lot of them to people looking for magic anyway. Mostly to teenagers looking to have fun and tell fortunes badly." He lifts a hand, sets his sandwich down on a plate that was not on the counter a moment ago, but suddenly is.

"Are you looking for something in particular? I can tell you what we have and we don't if you have an idea."

"I'm looking for someone in particular, actually," Strange responds, as he sets the cards down on the counter...though not before flipping one over, just for shits and giggles. He doesn't know any sort of significance to the Knight of Wands (it's a chap on a horse with a stick?) and just idly shuffles the card back into the deck as he talks.

"Are you Mister Kaplan? My name is Jonathan Strange—Mister Kaplan and I talked over the network about magic, books, and the worrying lack of tea in the team room." A wry little smile plays on Strange's face at that last bit. It's a bit of light teasing, but it's teasing nonetheless. "I've come to ask about your books."

A phrase which obviously delights Strange and one that he desperately hopes he'll be able to repeat time and time again. Suck it Gilbert Norrell, he's gonna get himself some actual books of magic.

"Oh-" and there's an awkward, patented Billy Kaplan pause, not because he isn't ready to be the best magic salesman he can, but because, well. "Wow, uh. You don't look like a Strange."

There's a slight, horrified pause. Because actually he kind of does, a little, if Billy squints. And then Billy raises both hands, like he's placating. "Sorry, sorry, there's a sorcerer in my world with that name. Stephen, but, you know. He's not as, uh. Medieval as you? Well, Victorian. Is that right? I'm not a period piece kind of guy." Wow, not Billy is rambling, so he goes over to the bookshelves. They're the ones that Gansey curated, so well, so carefully.

"Anyway, most of our magic stuff is in this section. Past that are the rare books and the things that are less magic and more just. Well. There."

Strange opens his mouth as if to retort how can someone look like a Strange to begin with, but then Billy starts with the placating and apologizing so that retort dies down. But a different magician with the name of Strange, hundreds of years later. Maybe he's a descendant of sorts? Of course, there's one big flaw in that problem, what with Strange being an only child and his wife being hella dead, but the dead thing can at least be fixed. Hopefully.

"I arrived here from 1816, so I assume I'm...Georgian?" Look, George is the king, that's how these things work, right? He certainly doesn't know what Victorian is, to say the least, but things have been described as Jacobean so he at least gets what Billy's implying. He's taking all this in stride, giving Billy a little shrug. "I'm not too good with that sort of information either."

But books. Let's talk about books and look at magical items and do all of those things while not worrying about whether someone's technically Jacobean or Georgian or what have you. "So are these texts of magic or about magic? Either works for me—I'm afraid my entire collection's back in my own time. I'll have to start off from scratch no matter what."

Oh, Georgian, of course. That makes sense. Naturally. How could Billy think otherwise?

(Why did he bring it up to begin with? Why?)

Talking about magic books is a better subject, really. Billy is already pulling some things - the more modern, Wicca-style books, except since Billy vets them it's not just moon rituals and walking around naked. It's mostly somewhat legit stuff, but it's the cheaper books, so he can start to gauge Jonathan's interest. "Well," he begins, congenially, "we have both. So this is the more...trade material, but I have rarer books that are a little older. The best stuff is in the back? I have to keep it behind wards otherwise people think it's funny to move them and they're expensive so I panic."

This is not entirely true, but then it's also not entirely a lie, so there we go. "If you want to see those, too, I can bring them out."

Picking one of the books up, Strange starts to skim through it, idly flipping through the pages. And he can't help but frown slightly as he does so. Turns out it's one of the modern, hippy, Wicca-style books and he just has no idea what to make of this. It's about the fifth time that he sees the phrase 'throat chakra' that Strange decides no, this probably isn't the book for him.

"I'd definitely like to see the older material," said with a frown. The dislike and confusion in Strange's voice is pretty apparent as he make a cursory attempt at figuring out how this idea of an inner goddess can mesh with the English magic he knows. Spoilers, it meshes badly. "Do you have anything...well, a bit more dense? Belasis, for example?" There's a brief note of hope in his voice. Wouldn't it be wonderful if some of the books that he never got a chance to read back home were here, in this universe, just sitting behind that counter just waiting to be read.

Billy frowns a little, thinking. He does have some seventeen and eighteenth century stuff that he's pretty sure Gansey had to sneak out of a library, or something, and he's not altogether sure it's not bound in human skin, so let's start with that. He goes behind the counter where there's a locked case. "I don't know if I have any Belasis, but if it exists in this world and you want it, I can see what I can do to track it down."

He pulls out the books; riches with nothing about throat chakras, but some stuff about magic circles, esoteric shit that Billy sometimes considers adding to his spells for the flash. "My best rare book guy...was ported out, but I still do stuff like this because it's kind of cool." He flips the book over and opens it, just offering it to Strange. "Take a look."

As Strange flips through the book, it's obvious that this is more his speed. The book is a very lengthy, very academic, very dry sort of text that's more about magic circles and precise notations than chakras and crystal healing. Once Strange finds a chapter that's entirely this author shit-talking another author, he's decided that this is 100% his jam and it's the perfect book to start his new collection.

"I'm afraid to ask how much this would cost," he can't help but remark, with a little frown. Strange might be useless and not know how to balance a checkbook, but even he knows that the stipend the government gives him and the salary he's got from his job as a clerk won't be enough for him to afford the book for a while.

Needless to say, he's still flipping through the book, obviously entranced and interested by it's contents.

Billy watches this man flip through his book and he feels a little burst of camaraderie because of course, it's just. Cool, to see someone who wants the old stuff too. Billy almost never gets to see that; most people want the Wicca nonsense that he can't use. The notation and magic circle stuff works so much better with Billy's brand of magic.

Well, and self-help books, but that was once, come on.

He looks down at the book. "It's $1800," he starts, buuuuuut- "but if you want to put a deposit on it and pay in installments, I can put it on hold for you. And you can come and look at it whenever you want in the tea room." Where there is no tea, remember? But Billy is offering. The cat, asleep in the window, makes a noise and looks up, like maybe he is aware that Billy is...making a friend.

Oh, how he will regret this.

Strange can't help it: a look of worry crosses his face before it becomes a look of sheer relief as he hears the magic words 'pay in installments.' He's working as a clerk at a store that sells bathrobes, Strange has come to the crushing realization that he's gonna be broke for a while (which Mr. Lookit Me, I Have An Estate isn't too thrilled about).

"That sounds wonderful. I've a feeling I'll come and visit often--so please, don't hesitate to tell me if I'm becoming too much of a bother."

Because he will straight up become a bother, though not in the way that Strange is picturing himself being a bother. Who's ready for Strange to end up answering some questions and arguing with customers because it's not his fault their opinions on magic are wrong.

"How much for the deposit?"

"Five dollars?" Billy says, in his most trademark Billy Kaplan way, where everything he says ends up sounding like a question. He frowns a bit at that. He needs to be more assertive. "Five dollars. Also, scratch the cat behind the ears."

This is a totally legitimate form of payment in this establishment. The cat is a spoiled creature to demands tribute at any given moment of the day. He's getting up from his basket now and opening his mouth to squeak a meow at Strange, and rub against his ankles.

"Did you, uh. Keep? Keep magic? As your power?" Billy asks, in a burst of non-specific and unhelpful words.

As the cat approaches, Strange looks at the animal. He's only slightly dealt with cats in his life so he's employing a basic strategy of a few kissy noises to get the animal's attention and then the ear scratches. The spoiled shop cat seems to like it though, and Strange bends down slightly for better petting opportunities.

At Billy's question, he can't help but grin. "I have. If you want, I can demonstrate a little of what I can do." Most of the large, flashy magic can't really be done inside, but he could at least do some scrying or perhaps something else a bit smaller.

It's obvious that Strange just loves the idea of showing off. Aside from the fact that he thinks he's hot shit, it's magic! Magic's amazing! Of course he'd want to show off and see what he can do as much as possible.

He watches this exchange and comes up a little on his toes above the counter (floats) and then nods. Getting to see magic is still exciting, even though Billy's entire life is magic. He doesn't know how to describe it; it's like even knowing the secrets of the universe, everyone else has their own secrets, and Billy is determined to learn it. "Yeah, hang on-"

He moves out from behind the counter and opens a door that leads to the tea room, which has more space and no books to ruin in a wayward show. "Do you do, ah. Well, do what you do."

As Billy opens the door to the tea room, Strange peers inside. It is a wider room and the lack of books to accidentally damage is a plus (because really, he knows there's a good chance he'd damage the books.) There's a pause, as he mulls things over, trying to come up with something good.

Then, inspiration strikes. With a grin that's far too confident, Strange picks up the cat with one hand in a way that's very much how someone who's never actually picked up a cat before would pick one up. He walks over to where the cat's water bowl is and gingerly picks it up with the other hand.

"Can you close the door behind us? I don't want the cat running out while the spell's being cast."

He is also entirely unaware that this statement makes it sound like he's going to do something to the cat. Whoops.

"Uh, you're not Doing anything to my cat, are you?" Billy asks, because yeah, Strange, that's what it sounds like. But Billy doesn't immediately think that hey, his cat is in deep danger, at least, not to the degree that would make him insist on kicking Strange out of his tea room. He reaches for the cat, who is looking a bit annoyed at this moment, like maybe he's thinking of sinking some teeth into some tender English flesh.

The cat back in his arms (flicking his ears like maybe he regrets this all deeply), Billy sits back in the one of the chairs. The cat is off limits, man. Off.

Limits.

"What? No, I just need the cat for comparison." Strange gingerly sets the cat and the cat's water dish down in the tea room. Stepping back slightly, he places his hands behind his back, closes his eyes, and mutters something under his breath.

The water starts to snake upwards, out of the bowl, as it shapes itself into a watery replica of the shop cat. It's practically a mirror image, except for the fact that since there isn't much water in the bowl to begin with, the water cat is more kitten sized. The cat and the water kitten look at each other for a moment, the poor shop cat way too confused at this tiny replica, before the water kitten lazily walks off to a corner of the tea room, leaving tiny wet footprints in it's wake.

"It's not all that impressive," Strange modestly says, apparently unaware of the fact that water kitten is kind of impressive. "Most of my magic is usually performed outdoors."

Oh.

Oh, that's-

Billy's eyes round a little, and he starts to smile, because this is the exact kind of magic he loves. Silly, stupid magic that can't hurt anyone, magic that is kind of cute, magic that doesn't summon horrors from the depths to possess things or destroy Billy's life as a personal mission. This magic is, by all accounts, pretty good.

"No, no," Billy says, smiling now. "That's great! That's-" he bends down and pets the cat on its watery head. "It's really good."

Strange is just visibly relieved. Because he thinks he's quite good at magic. But after two wars worth of 'Merlin, move this forest' and 'Merlin, can't you do these five things at once', it's always nice to hear someone else acknowledge that he's good at magic.

Plus, it feeds his already terrible ego.

"Thank you," he happily responds, just watching as Billy pets the water kitten. "It's a variation on a spell that I've performed in the past--a spell to make an element retain the shape of it's name. Making a cat out of the cat's water, for example. I've only used the spell in larger circumstances, so I'm honestly quite pleased to see it worked so well small-scale!"

Based on Strange's tone of voice, it's all too apparent that given the opportunity, he'll keep blathering on about the logistics of spells and what-not.

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stop citing authors from other worlds in your arguments

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