16316/NWIMBY

NWIMBY
Date of Scene:	13 November 2023
Location:	Ray's Occult Shoppe
Synopsis:	Zatanna and Wanda collude in an occult shop.
Cast of Characters:	Wanda Maximoff, Zatanna Zatara

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Wanda Maximoff has posed:
    Anyone who needs supplies of an arcane or occult bent knows Ray's. Stage performers and podcast Wiccans get their gear here. Online storefronts may be great. They do not substitute for hands-on methods or thumbing through books. How can a digital nose substitute for actually sniffing an assortment of oils to see what fits the ritual best?
    Wanda stands in front of a display case on the second floor. A multitude of small bottles line up soldier-like in front of her. Unscrewed caps stand in front of their respective bodies, so many helmets removed. Her perusal requires a proper appreciation of the aroma. A swirl, a breath in. Someone left a small crystal candy jar of coffee beans that sorely need replacement but they do the trick for cleaning her olfactory palate when given a stir and a sharp inhale. Not perfect but good.
    Other patrons this late aren't numerous. A few folks downstairs discuss the benefits of meditation. A drum circle aims to alleviate strife and generational trauma in the little meeting room.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The old-fashioned bell over the door jangles, admitting a woman dressed in arcane noir with a smart silk gauze shirt offsetting the severity of her jacket and pants. Once inside, Zatanna stands eyes darting from shelf to shelf, sniffing the predominant drift of patchouli scenting the air, overtaken by the memory of her first visit to the shop.

She had stayed close to her mother and remembers having to stand on tip toe to see over the display cases. Magical paraphenalia still fascinated her at that age and the sheer plenitude of bottles and canisters holding mysterious dried substances held her in thrall. The white raven, in particular, had her attention.

Returning to herself, she drifts toward the jumble of scents that greet her in the present. At the far end of the room, she catches a glimpse of a familiar figure and walks slowly, saluting the raven as she passes it.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
    Arcane noir meets mystic boheme. The young woman's golden earrings shimmer, hoops held beneath loose auburn curls, and the long v-neck dress paired to a bomber jacket signalling her out. Wanda even braves wearing a sueded round-brimmed hat loking ike a halo cast in a caramel glow. In short she's all but a walking latte of some kind.
    The bell would normally attract her attention but Wanda must deal with threatening to knock over a bitter almond oil mixed with pomegranate and tamarind extract. Her hand moving to the side strikes the glass bottle. Whoops, off it goes. Reaching out to catch the thing is easy, but not to put the liquid genie back into the bottle. A sweet-sour citrus aroma blossoms.
    The raven is not witness to this, but an irate jay peering through fake branches is. The poster is a little too lively and the Avenger wordlessly shakes her head. No admonishment needed. "I will pay, you benighted thing."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
A citrus orchard blossums for her when Zatanna is within hailing distance of her goal, shimmering with gold caught in auburn. Not even her magic could return the scent to its bottle.

"That's a fragrant hello, Wanda. You shouldn't have," she quips, smiling. "What are you concocting?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
    "Unexpectedly," Wanda admits over the puddle that splashes to the floor. No helping the dribble of mixed oils there. Mopping it up requires a few things, notably finding a paper towel. With none in the vicinity, she spreads her fingers.
    A globule rises off the ground, compacted together into a neat blob. It glistens as she pinches it into a tighter bubble, holding nearby. "Would you happen to have a tissue, Miss Zatara? I hate to leave somewhere a mess. Especially by my own hand, accidental though it might be. I hoped to find something to prove clarity for the lost, as one of my contacts is seeking a relic their family had custody over and lost ages back."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Reaching into her jacket pocket, Zatanna murmurs a few words under her breath and produces a handful of tissues which she presents to Wanda with a flourish, "Suitable for all spills of any nature arcane or not. You will have enough for the task at hand."

Lost relics and their search are naturally of interest to her. "How is that going?"

She doesn't presume to ask for the formula, aware of how personal and closely guarded mystic practices often are.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
    "Thank you," Wanda spontaneously replies, even if Zatanna presented with a cactus. It's as one does in such situations. She takes the tissues and opens them in a wide square. The bubble of scent drops down into the absorbent material and promptly spreads out into a messy stain. Not much else can be done there to recover the debased liquid, but at least the place is clean. "I'm sorry to distract you from your shopping. This teaches me to touch glass bottles with slippery hands."
    Wiping her hands off with a remaining tissue follows. She then screws the caps back on the bottles one by one. "So far, unclear. Family journals contain contradictory information and you know how old memories twist and contort through retellings. We are making progress, but I took a deposit. Better than paying by the hour."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"I can dispose of that, if you'd like," she offers, holding out a hand. "Memories have a way of twisting and turning for the most part." Zatanna gestures to the glass cases lining the shop walls, her gaze distant, unfocused on the objects behind the glass.

"But I remember this place very well. I haven't been here since I was a little girl. My mother brought me. She was searching for a rare herb from Turkey. I remember her carrying a jar home so it must have been a success." When she returns her gaze to Wanda, she smiles faintly. "I was in the neighborhood so I thought I would look in."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
    Wanda folds up the tissues into a neat bundle to offer to Zatanna. Not unlike the bundle she made from the essential oils, though the fragrance remains overly strong to anyone too sensitive to almond or tamarind. "Would you? I should at least settle up with Ray before anyone else takes his attention. I don't like leaving this untended." She takes the spilled bottle in her other hand.
    "Do you know, this place has a scent I've found the world over. So many stores like this carry the same essence. I wonder if that's true for India, Brazil or something tucked away in Samoa. Would it be like that?" She chuckles. "I am glad you have fond childhood memories. We had nothing like this where I was raised."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Unbothered by the strong smell, Zatanna takes the bundle and places her other hand over it, gripping it tightly. The bundle disappears. "It's a convenient spell in the kitchen," she explains, dusting off her hands.

"Please go ahead and take care of your business. I'm going to walk around the store and see if anything catches my eye. As to the aroma here. Wouldn't you say it was the perfume of magic?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
    "You might just say so. See whatever catches your eye. There's plenty to admire." Wanda takes a few minutes to descend to the first floor, winking at Zatanna as she goes. Quick footsteps carry her downstairs. Locating the proprietor at the register isn't too difficult, though she waits her turn for the next patron to finish up. Apologies and money can be exchanged with interchangeable ease. Her laughter joins the air as he rings her up, and the bottle ends up handed over for him to recycle or recharge.
    The drum circle beating out their tune is pretty quiet, concussive beats blending into a steady throb. Comforting, really. She lingers to listen for a bit and then turns to see where the Mistress of Prestidigitation is headed.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Memories lead her to the cases filled with jars of dried herbs. Leaves with magical properties glint in the gloom. She passes one case that scurries through the sinuses, tickling the back of the throat. Zatanna knows the smell but looks closer. Asafoetida has been used by sorcerers through the ages besides adding a wonderful counterpoint to dishes.