nick_garou | (no subject) (Reply)

Yesterday I spent the day attending three estate sales for the wealthy and elderly of St. Claire. (Things come in three, right?) One was a total wash. I got a very expensive piece of jewelry at another that was grossly undervalued and I should be able to turn a tidy profit on. The third yielded three rather esoteric old books on black magic. (I'll bet that old lady might have been interesting to talk to.) Not magickal (with a "k"), but definitely a nice little addition to the library. Can't believe I scored all three of those books for just $90!

After adding the vintage jewelry to Kenward's Curios online eBay store, I took a load off, dozed off while watching Star Wars (all fingers extended for a force push, two fingers extended to open or close or activate item, index and thumb together with a subtle oscillation of the remaining fingers for a Jedi mind trick--interesting), and popped out to the Harbor Park glade to check on it.

I like touching the water in the fountain with my hand. It gives me an electric thrill and helps me to center better. In doing so, I opened my senses to check on the primal energy flows and to check for the return of the scrying points that were previously attached to the fountain. That's when I noticed Val, as a raven, invisible, under the park bench I tend to favor. What in the world was she up to? Spying? I skimmed the surface of her mind: mischief. Ooookay. I went over, sat down on the back of the bench, and waited to see what was up. Suddenly, my phone rang. Or, rather, Val perfectly emulated my phone's ringtone--but it wasn't really ringing. No vibration. I pulled it out, looked at it, and put it back up. Was this the joke? She did it again. I repeated my actions, then went the next step and pretended to answer it. Val made a couple ticking noises and then a loud BOOM! Ouch. Damn, that was annoying and loud. At this point, Val waddled out from under the seat and complained that I was nowhere near as fun to prank as the garou. I told her that, in the future, she should also pay attention to cats sneaking up on her from behind--then I pushed the image of a cat leaping at her from behind and Val flipped out, then started laughing, and said that was a good trick. We talked a bit more. I intentionally name-dropped "Team Jacob" as a means of referring to the garou, and Val thought that was a riot. I bet that gets a little mileage in the future! We headed off to go get coffee and shoot the shit a bit, then I had to bail. I was beat.

This morning I delivered the "Sorry, but I was unable to locate Flint" speech to his grandparents. I discounted my fee to $225.16 (a bargain!), plugged them in to a police contact of mine over in Missing Persons, and told my contact my assessment was that Flint ran off because his lifestyle didn't mesh with the sterility of his grandparents--combined with feeling like he was abandoned by his mother. All code for "don't try too hard to locate this one: he needs to come home on his own terms." So hopefully there won't be a big to-do there. Flint's dad, Niles Madden, gives me the heebie jeebies. Checked with Mouse about redirecting the money to Flint, but she said to keep it and she'd spring for the $225.16 when Flint "graduated."