12922/Another Meeting With Mercy

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Another Meeting With Mercy
Date of Scene: 30 March 2021
Location: The Magic Box, Sunnydale
Synopsis: Chatting with a friend newly returned to town, and meeting John Connor.
Cast of Characters: Mercy Thompson, John Connor, Rupert Giles




Mercy Thompson has posed:
It's been a while since Mercy has come around to the Magic Box. Quite a while. But then, it's been a while since Mercy has really been much of anywhere that's considered civilized, recently. She's popped in at her garage and watched over the delivery of her recent 'project' there, which happens to be a multi-coloured Volkswagen camper van that she plans to fix up. Everything seemed in order there, which was a good thing.

Then she did a check of her living space, and set about the most enjoyable task of... making cookies! It's only with cookies in tow (carried in a container in one of her hands) that she makes her way to the Magic Box. Once there, she reaches out to open the door before stepping inside and taking a look around. She'd heard a rumour and decided to check up on it, and so here she is. Her hair's been tamed into a pair of braids, and she wears a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt, with a jacket over top, and a pair of steel-toed boots.

John Connor has posed:
Bludhaven was a bit out of the way for him, but John Connor sometimes made it out this way. He and his family were chasing down a lead, which proved to be a dead end. Before making the trip back to Metropolis, which wasn't as long a drive as you'd think, they decided to explore a little bit. John wasn't a believer, but the Magic Box piqued his interest, so he wandered in, setting off the bell above the door.

He looked like any regular high school kid, a bit younger than Dawn, or maybe her age. It was hard to say. Seeing a sign that suggested that backpacks had to be left, he frowned, clutching his a little tighter. But after a moment's hesitation, he acquiesced, setting it down, although doing so with some deliberation. He placed the arms in such a position that he could easily grab it and run, if he needed to.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles looks up as the bell above the door chimes not once, but twice! Open on the counter in front of him is a book. A rather large book, leather bound, with pages full of small print tightly spaced together. He reaches for a bookmark he'd left beside the book and tucks it between the pages. The book is closed. Just visible on the spine are some letters in what appears to be Latin.

"Well. Good evening, Mercy. How's the wilderness been?" At the second ringing of the bell, he glances over toward the kid worried over his backpack. "It's alright. You are the first two customers I've had since lunch. Nobody will bother it here." His accent is refined and very British.

That very sense of 'British" is only reinforced as he steps from behind the counter. Very proper attire. Slacks, leather loafer type shoes, a knit sweater in blue-grey, a shade that compliments his eyes nicely. Glasses. All that's missing is a tie to go along with the ensemble. "Welcome, both of you.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
There's a smile for Giles as Mercy steps up to the counter. Then she places her plastic container on the counter, a bit aside from where the book is sitting open. "Good evening, Mr. Giles," she says, giving a nod to him. Her braids give a slight bounce, at that. Then she nudges the container towards him a bit. "I heard that you were back, so I figured I'd make you a bit of a treat. I hope you don't mind," Mercy says with a smile.

"It's been good. It kept me fed," Mercy comments, her head tilting a touch to one side. She turns her head to glance back towards the other who had followed her in, giving him a once over. Then she stuffs the fingers of one of her hands into a pocket of her jeans, her attention turning back to him. "Did you have a good trip?" she asks, curious. "Slow day, eh?"

John Connor has posed:
When John Connor entered a room, he immediately began sizing up the occupants, and looking for exits. It had been drilled into him. Besides the door he had just come through, there were storefront windows with no bars, another window near the big table, and five visible doors, though two of them were marked as toilets. He figured that the door near the counter was to the manager's office, likely a dead end. That left two.

When greeted by the manager, he gave a polite nod, but didn't say anything, instead moving to look at things, although he did it in the direction of the closest door he couldn't identify. If given the chance, he would surreptitiously try to turn the knob while Mercy distracted Giles, peeking in if unlocked.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles returns that smile, though his is, of course, more reserved. As befits the sort of person he appears to be. Genuine, just smaller. "I appreciate the treat and you know it, Mercy." He reaches for the container and opens it, having an idea of what it contains. Oh it does. He pulls one out. It's a cookie. "I'm glad it kept you fed. And yes. I am back. For awhile, this time, I hope. Unless I get called to consult again. You'd think the curator there would know what she's about, but..." He takes a bite of the cookie and nods. "Mmhmm," he murmurs around the bite of the cookie, chewing it slowly and obviously enjoying the flavors.

The youth's actions are not missed. Not by Giles. He's a Watcher. He pins a look on the young man and snaps his fingers. Then, same hand as had finger snapped, points one of them at the youngster. "There's nothing down there but my inventory, and nothing for you. What are you looking for?" Curiously, he doesn't chase the lad out of the store.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
At only about 5'6, Mercy likely doesn't seem like much of a threat to anyone. She's fit and slender, and she idly bumps the toes of one of her feet against the floor whilst standing in front of the counter. "Just in case you're wondering... he's checking the door back there," she says quietly, one of her eyebrows quirking up a bit. She can hear it, even if he is trying to be quiet. She has really good hearing. "But you already know that," she adds with a grin. Not that she doesn't trust him to notice such things, given that he's a Watcher, but... she tries to be helpful!

She lightly bounces on her toes, her braids bobbing as she does, and then she gives a nod to him. "I might have remembered wrong. It's been a while," she says with a smile. The cookies are oatmeal butterscotch chip. "Me as well. It would have been a much shorter journey if it hadn't," she comments, giving a nod to him. "Well, that's the danger of having knowledge and skills, right? It means other people might want them," she says with a smile. With Giles providing scolding, Mercy, turns and leans her back against the counter, her gaze turning to the store's other visitor.

John Connor has posed:
Some people seemed to have eyes in the back of their heads, and can see around corners. John was pretty stealthy, and had waited until the man was in discussion with his other patron. Found out, John shrugs it off, playing the curious youth, "oh, okay." Accepting the answer, and not pressing, he had to say, "just browsing, I don't really know what all this is." But he was at least curious. And they know what curiosity did to the cat. Having been scolded, and tattled on by the other woman, John was more concerned about that exit than he had been previously. His bag was still by the door. If he bolted, he would look guilty. He didn't do anything wrong except quietly turn a knob after looking over in the corner. So he acted, using his body language to demonstrate he felt no shame, no guilt, and that as far as he was concerned, they had overreacted. He picked up an item on one of the shelves, trying to figure out what it was.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles, on the other hand, is tall, and broad shouldered, and the small movements he's done might say he knows how to hold his own in a fight. He nods to Mercy's helpful hint. "I did know that, but it's still good to say. I might not have noticed." Hey, anything is possible, right? Right! The cookies are divine, as far as that goes.

"Indeed it is. These cookies are really good, by the way. Oatmeal and.." He pauses and considers. "Butterscotch, though I could be wrong." He pauses and studies Mercy for a moment. "You're doing well, though? Nothing out of sorts?"

His eyes don't linger for long, however, before going back to the youngster sneaking about. Having come to the end of the counter as he had, Giles has a perfectly good view of the stairs leading to the basement. "Magic," he says. "It's all magic." Is he being serious? He doesn't look like he feels any guilt over having called the youth out. He considers. "If you're looking for another exit, there's a door in the back. In the employees only, section." Why else would someone be looking at doors? Either to steal something, or to escape from something.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Others just have really good ears. Lifting one of her hands, Mercy brushes a stray bit of hair from her face, idly shoving it behind one of her ears. She tilts her head to one side, and her tongue flicks out over her lips. Then she wiggles her nose a touch, briefly. "Is someone following you? Are you trying to keep someone from finding you?" she asks, curious. "If you like cookies, there's a whole batch of them up here. You can come have a couple of them," Mercy offers. Then she glances to Giles, a bit apologetically. Sharing is a thing for her, and her attention turns back down the shop to the other guest. "I'm Mercy," she offers in greeting, a smile coming to her features.

Her attention shifts back to Giles, and she smiles easily at him. "It never hurts to look after each other," she says softly, giving a nod to him. "And you're exactly right, they're butterscotch. Everything's good, and nothing out of sorts. Yet. It's probably only a matter of time. I kind of have a nose for trouble, sometimes," she comments with a light laugh. She takes a moment, looking around the shop a bit. "I always like the way it smells in here," she adds.

John Connor has posed:
"Right," John says to Giles, his voice containing a hint of amusement, clearly not believing that magic exists. It's weird. He can believe in human-looking machines and time travel, but magic is difficult. "And what does this do?" He asks as he holds up one of the so-called magical instruments he found in the shop. Mercy's attention concerns him. "No, nothing like that, I'm good," and when she introduces herself, he simply adds, "I'm John." Last name Doe, no doubt.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles doesn't have really good hearing, as such, but he does have training on being aware of what's going on around him. And this is his shop. He has a vested interest in paying attention! And then? Then Mercy is giving his cookies away! His brow furrows and he has an almost hurt expression, but it's not a true one and is gone within seconds. A bright smile replaces it. "Of course. They're quite good, too."

Looking after each other is what the group is all about." He glances to the youth. "Giles," he says, succinctly. He snorts at Mercy. "You? A nose for trouble? Noooo." He reaches for another cookie, having finished the first one. Yep. They've definitely passed the Giles test. "It's the incense and the books. Wonderful combination."

To the youth, another glance is cast. "That? Is a Sobekian blood stone. It's used in Sobekian transmogrifacation spells. That means it gets turned from one thing into another thing. By itself, it doesn't do anything."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
It's audible in his voice that he doesn't believe. Mercy doesn't mind, either way. She happens to believe, though. But then, she has Reasons. She's seen things and she's experienced things. She raises an eyebrow as she turns her attention to what John has picked up, and then tilts her head a bit to one side. "Well, that's good, then," she says, a smile easily coming to her features. "It's good to meet you, John," she adds, giving a nod to him.

Mercy turns her gaze back to Giles, and she has the good grace to look sheepish. "Sorry, I promise that I'll bring you more next time, too," she says, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Then she quirks a grin. "Maybe once in a while. Sometimes. I try not to make a habit of it, though," she comments. Then she takes a moment to look around the shop before turning her attention back to him, and she gives a nod. "The leather binding of the books, the smell of the binding and the old paper, and the incense. Among other things, too," she says with a smile. Her attention turns towards John, and she takes a moment to look to what he holds, studying it as Giles provides information.

John Connor has posed:
"A Sobekian Blood Stone, huh," John said, surprised. He understood what transmogrification meant, but didn't rain on the shopkeeper's parade. "So, if I wanted to turn a rock into a motorcycle, this would be the thing?" He didn't believe it, but was playing along, and in the unlikely event it worked, it would come in handy. Too bad it takes magical skill too. Something he lacked.

Turning his attention to Mercy, he was trying to figure out their relationship. Did she just like to flirt with him, or was there more to it? He certainly seemed to like her baked goods, even getting possessive when she offered to share, but John was good enough, and a little prophetic, to politely decline, lest he incur the wrath of Rupert Giles. "And you, Mercy, are you a witch, is that the term?"

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles could show him magic. If he really wanted to. But Giles doesn't really want to. Because that takes time and preparation and work to do. As well as energy to produce whatever end result he wants. Giles, does not cast spells if he doesn't have to. Cast, in a literal sense of the word.

Mercy's sheepish look is met with a smile that is somewhat teasing. "It's okay. I don't mind sharing," he says. "Pish. You bring me cookies every time you come to see me. That already makes it a habit," he points out. From the sparkle in Giles' eyes and the little smile curling up the corners of his mouth, he's not only teasing, but he's deliberately acting like he's missed what she's talking about. Getting into trouble, that is. He knows that's what she means, but, well. It's hard to pass up an opportunity to tease a little. "And you know I adore the cookies." He nods solemnly about the scents. "The books and the incense. Some of the different supplies, too."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The pig-tailed woman doesn't offer any information about the Sobekian Blood Stone. Perhaps she knows and just doesn't want to tell or perhaps she doesn't know. One of her eyebrows lifts as his attention turns to her, and she stays where she is, leaning against the counter. "Why? Are you afraid that I'll turn you into a newt?" Mercy asks, her tone laced with amusement. There's amusement in her eyes as well, as she lets the question hang there for a lingering moment. "It's the right term, but no, I'm not a witch," Mercy answers.

There's a grin as she looks over to Giles, and she laughs lightly before giving a nod,taking his teasing well in stride. "I know I do. It's because I like baking. Well, maybe a bit more than just like it. It's probably my favourite hobby," she comments. Fixing cars isn't a hobby since that's her profession. "I know you do. It's part of why I bring them," she adds. Then she gives a nod, about his comment on the scents within the shop. "Mmhmm, those two. Were there any herbs or plants that you wanted me to keep an eye out for when I'm about?" she asks, curious.

John Connor has posed:
It was at that moment that a badass looking woman came through the door, one who looked like she could be related to John. She offered a warm smile, her voice was polite and kind, but the muscle definition in his arms, her bearing, her presence, it all screamed that this woman was highly capable. Not unlike a vampire slayer. She didn't say much, just, "John, we have to get going." And then, just like that, she was gone. She had already done her own scan of the room, satisfied that John was in no more danger than he always is in.

John frowned, wanting to hear more about the magic, even if it was probably all just a big joke, but when that woman spoke, few argued. He would nod his head, offer a little wave, and make his way to the door, where he picked up his backpack, "see ya," he said, and then he too would follow her out the door.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles doesn't comment about witches, clearly. Is he a witch? Quite likely not. His attention goes to Mercy as baking is mentioned. "It's your hobby like books are my hobby." And also profession. Sort of. To the question posed, he nods. "Of course. The usual. Anything you find interesting. Someone will want to use it eventually."

Giles looks to the door as the bell chimes again. He studies the woman thoughtfully, offers her a polite nod of greeting, and reaches for another cookie. Om nom.

To John, he says, "We're not going anywhere. If you want to know more about magic, you can come back anytime." He waves a hand. "Take care."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
As the woman steps in, Mercy shifts her position slightly. She stands up a bit, and she no longer leans against the counter behind her. Her other hand moves for her fingers to tuck into the pockets of her jeans. She gives a nod in response to the smile that ends up aimed their way, and her gaze flicks over the woman and then John. Then she lifts one of her hands from her pockets in order to offer him a wave. "Take care," Mercy offers, giving a small nod.

Mercy turns her attention back to Giles, and she smiles at him before giving a nod. "I'll keep an eye out for things for you. Sometimes I find weird and neat things when I'm roaming about," she says. Then she grins. "Well, y'know... it's a good way of working through things sometimes," she adds. "Besides the fact that the results are pretty tasty."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Once the youth has gone, following the woman, Giles' attention turns as well to Mercy. "That would be good. I'll give you a fair price, of course," he says. Then again, this is Giles. Even if he hadn't said, he would still give a fair price. "I imagine both baking and working on cars are good ways of working through things. Aren't most mechanics fond of big wrenches and beating things?" He might be exagerating there. From the grin, he's certainly teasing! He finishes the last cookie he'd taken, and closes up the box of them to save for later.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Oh, I don't doubt that you'll give me a fair price. If I let you pay me for them," Mercy says, a smile easily tugging the corners of her lips. "I just kind of gather up the things that I think might be useful and then bring them here. I figure you likely have a better use for it than I do, and a lot of things grow out around the garage," she comments. "Mmhmm, both things are. I tend to get focused on what I'm working on and my brainkeeps working on whatever the problem is somewhere in the back of my head and a solution sometimes just pops up," she comments. Then she grins. "Most are. I might have a few big wrenches around the shop. And I might have beaten a couple of things before," admits with a light laugh. "You should bring your car around for a tune up. It's been good to see you again. I might have to come around a bit more often. I need to get back,though... I've got an oil change to do before I can start on dinner," she says, watching him a moment. "Take care, Mr. Giles, and I'll see you in a couple of days. Give me a call or send me a message if you come up with anything in specific that you could use," Mercy says. Then she starts to walk across the shop to head out.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Rupert Giles steps back around the counter and moves the cookies from the top to a shelf beflow. "Of course, of course," he says. "And I will. It could use one. It sat idle for a time when I was in England." He finishes tucking the cookies away and looks back to Mercy. "I'll do that. I'll consult with Buffy and Willow, see if they can think of anything. Take care, Mercy."