As a London copper, I’ve seen some pretty weird shit, but even I was taken aback when I learned that magic was actually a thing. Real, proper magic, with spells and everything!
Also, ghosts are real! And vampires, trolls, fairies, river gods… and there’s this whole subculture of weirdos and half-fae… oh, and don’t get me started on talking bloody foxes…
Shouldn’t come as a surprise that the Metropolitan Police secretly know all about this crap. There’s the Special Assessment Unit, run from this posh house called The Folly by a posh Detective Inspector called Nightingale (and his apprentice Peter Grant), that investigates supernatural crimes and other weird bollocks. And it turns out, they’re recruiting…
As they walk towards the shop, Skipper looks at Izzy, gives a happy grunt and shrugs. "Thought of getting some members of our little squad to be on the look out for Audrey was, well, worth a try. I have no clue what's below decks in the Folly, for the record."
"I don't suppose Triffids are a thing, are they? Too much to hope for I guess, not so much magic as bleak, old school sci-fi."
As they approach and enter the shop, Skipper keeps snapping photos, but he stops - somewhat respectfully - when he sees the woman / creature and lowers the venerable Nikon F-3. He does scan the shop to see if there are any more like her about.
Last edited by Snapper on Thu Aug 03, 2023 3:22 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I can't say I'm aware of your reputation, but I did hear on the grapevine that The Nightingale got himself some more little birds for his aviary. What interesting times we live in eh?"
She puts down the box file she was inspecting and grins.
"I'm Maud Flowers, owner of this establishment. Are you here to buy your master a pot plant, or does The Starling need a pair of shears for that lovely garden his young lady owns?"
Secretly, Leo was a little relieved that the woman didn't know about the burning down about Leo's torching of the skittles alley. Just as well, he supposed. While Peter once admitted he believed his friends and colleagues had a rota taking turns rescuing him, at least they hadn't needed bailing out. Not yet.
"The very same," he said, giving a bit of a bow. "The pleasure is all ours, Miss Flowers. The Chinese, I believe, have a saying about interesting times..." his voice trails off, leaving the thought unfinished.
"You know, he didn't mention it, but I suppose Molly wouldn't mind some color to spruce up the place upon our return. A pot plant sounds delightful. Something that will travel well," said as he reached for his wallet.
Is this a name we recognize? Is she a known quantity in the magical underground or demimonde?
Skipper is lurking in the background. He makes eye contact with Des, Jordan and Eli, raising an eyebrow. Speaking quietly, he says, "Shears for his lady's lovely garden? Umm...?" He rubs his stubbly goatee absently.
Walking jn behind everyone else, Eli casts his eyes around the shop. "My isn't this quaint?" He mumbles to himself. Thinking that when he can je should ask Jordan more about this red moss.
Des looked about, slightly bemused by it all. Very few of the people she knew growing up had gardens or even outside space. She knew a few lads interested in the propagation of plants but they were the type which would have the Police kicking doors in, rather than people going, ‘Ooh, ain’t that pretty…’
"I'll take shears to you in a minute young man!" snaps Maud, clearly unimpressed by Skipper's quip. She shakes her head at Des and Izzy. "Men eh?"
She shakes her head sadle before focussing her gaze on Leo. "Molly - heh, yeah that's the one," she chuckles "Always asking after my chillies, as if I'd have any spare!"
She turns to Eli, blocking his view of the till.
"Quaint? I prefer 'artisan' - everything's artizan nowadays isn't it? No reason why a garden centre should be artisan too."
To Jordan, she tilts her head.
"Now why would the Isaacs be interested in my business? We Flowers have been growing plants for the discerning customer for generations and we've never broken the agreement. Well, not as you'd notice anyway. So are you buying or is there sommat else you want?"
"The interesting stuff's round they back young lady," she says to Des.
Everyone else can make a Sense Vestigia roll if they like.
Des glanced at the old woman quizzically. Did she just read her mind?! Gazing at Maud suspiciously, she nevertheless craned her neck to look beyond the old woman to see what was found the back…
Izzy starts out mildly surprised at the fact that the establishment is run by someone clearly of the demi-monde, but the surprise passes quickly as she thinks that it makes perfect sense. After all, the strange liquid found with Karl's stuff clearly came from here, going by the letters on the bottle, so of course there must be something other than mundane here.
She allows herself a quick smile at the "men, eh?" comment, before responding. "DC Izzy Cooper, it's a pleasure. Don't worry, we're not interested in the... 'other' stuff you mentioned."
Izzy can't help but think about her brother for a few seconds, although she normally gives him a heads up before visiting to make sure any 'herbal remedies' are discreetly removed before she arrives. Not exactly within the rules, but family is family, after all.
"If you have catnip then I'll gladly pay another visit when we're not on a case, I can get a treat for Freya. But for now, we're looking into something else."
She gestures to Sgt. Dhillon, asking her to produce the evidence bag containing the bottle found in the late Chichester's kitchen, with the small amount of mysterious fluid inside. "Does this look familiar to you at all, ma'am?"
All the while, she keeps a sharp eye, ear and nose out for anything else in the atmosphere...
Sense Vestigia - 60%
1d100
Magic - 60%
1d100
Observation - 60%
1d100
Spend 5 points of Luck to turn that into a success...
Last edited by Trivun on Mon Aug 07, 2023 12:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Skipper is largely trying to stay at the back and keep out of the way.
"It's not like I have any objection to shears for lovely ladies' gardens, I have no real preferences, neutral as Switzerland," he can be heard to mutter.
Skipper returns glare-fire at Des. He hooks a thumb in the general direction of the plant nursery and hoarsely (but completely illogically) whispers, "At least I've eaten a green vegetable more than once in my entire life. And hot chips don't count."
"Lazy racial stereotype?!" Skipper splutters, still trying to be quiet but somewhat failing. "You're from north London, for God's sake! And yams and rice are not green by the way. I don't think they're even vegetables."
"A lazy racial stereotype would be to say that Spock over there," he hooks the pointer thumb at the weird fairy hippy shopkeep as he continues to whisper loudly, "Has repressed emotions and a fondness for logic."
Des and Skipper - you hear a not so subtle sigh from behind you, and find yourselves ushered outside by Sergeant Dhillon.
“I don’t know how you Folly lot are trained, but Surrey Police officers save their arguments for the briefing room, not in front of the general public!”
