Owner	Pose
Mercy Thompson	It was fairly common for Mercy to wake up early, and this morning had been no exception to that general rule. Given the heat that seemed to come up later in the day, she took the time in the morning to throw together a macaroni salad, with cheese cubes and cooked and crumbled bacon in it. With that tucked into the fridge and ready for lunch, she'd gone out to her garage to work on one of her project cars. There were many of them. But it was how she made half of her income, restoring old VW's (or other German makes) back to their original appearance and then selling them. She tinkered on it for a few hours, then retreated inside to get showered and cleaned up. She braided her hair in her customary pigtails while it was still damp, and dressed in her steel-toed boots, a pair of blue jeas, and a blue t-shirt with a cartoon octopus on it. She retrieved the container of macaroni salad that she had made, along with a couple of bottles of juice and a container of chocolate chip cookies, and then she locked up before heading out to her Vanagon. And there, she paused for a moment, her brow wrinkling slightly as her nose twitched. There had been a scent of something but it was gone before she'd had a chance to pin a label to it. She took a look across the field, putting the food into the passenger side of the vehicle after doing so. Then she went around to the driver's side, hopped and in made the drive over to the Magic Box. Her battered Rabbit was supposed to be getting towed back to her shop later that day. Pasta, at least, was relatively inexpensive. And she could make her food budget stretch, if she had to. After pulling up and parking, she gave her head a small shake, trying to chase away the lingering unease from before she'd left. She exhaled a breath, grabbed the food and hopped out of the van before stepping over to the front door and pulling it open. The bell jingled, as it always did, and her gaze wandered the shop as she stepped further within it.
Giles	Within the Magic Box, it's quiet. There's not even any music playing. Then again, there rarely is. On occasion, Giles will listen to something or other on the small portable radio he has, but that doesn't seem to be the case today. Or at least, in the now of today. Giles is not behind the counter. In fact, he doesn't appear to be in the shop at all. But his scent is here. And there are sounds coming from the basement. A quiet muttering can be heard, with Mercy's hearing, but even as keen as her ears are, that muttering is low enough that the words cannot be made out. Until... "Ah hah!" It is then silent. Whatever Giles is doing down there, it appears to have him occupied. Of course, then there's the bell sounding above. "Just a minute," is called out loudly enough to be heard. Less than a minute later, Giles comes trotting up the stairs holding a box in his left hand. It's a small square box. So dusty that what it's made of or what decorations or designs might be on it cannot be made out. "Ah, hello Mercy," he says when Giles sees who it is. There's a smile of greeting from him as he walks over to her and lightly kisses her left cheek. "Is it lunch time already?"
Mercy Thompson	It's not entirely an unusual thing for the store to be quiet, even to her hearing, if there are no customers within the shop. And it would seem that there aren't, at the moment. Her nose gives a little twitch, perhaps catching a whiff of the dust being stirred up in the basement below. Lifting her free hand, she lightly brushes one of her braids to her back. Listening. The muttering from below draws her curiosity, though she doesn't just yet start to approach the basement. His 'ah hah' brings a smile to tug her lips, and she tilts her head a touch to one side as he comes up the stairs with that very dusty box. And her curiosity is piqued anew, because dusty treasures rummaged out of basements (or attics) have a way of doing that. "Good afternoon, Rupert," she says warmly, giving him a kiss on the cheek in turn, a smile easily coming to her features. "Nearly one o'clock, actually, so a bit past lunch time. I was working on one of my project cars and got a bit sidetracked by some particularly rusty bolts that didn't want to let go," she comments. She had ended up giving up about halfway through the task. "It looks like you had a fruitful rummage in the basement," she says, giving the box a glance.
Phobos	Likely there is another scent that may have come to affect the Magic Box of late and it's a strange one. A scent that will eventually come to mean something along the lines of, 'Ah there's a god in the back room,' or something equivalent. Perhaps even, 'Oh there is Phobos nearby,' or 'That damn Rabbit-Stomper,' but whatever connotations it may have eventually, for now it might just be a hint of ozone in the air.     For in the back room with the love seat and the training equipment, Alexander Aaron has been passing some of the time doing what he can to catch up with some of his work through the portal of his cellphone though there is relatively little to be done. Reviewing after action reports, low level duty requirements, some of the more open correspondence allowed. All in all it took only about a half hour. But afterwards he felt slightly less like a bum taking an unearned vacation from SHIELD.     Yet the noise out and about in the main room of the small store let him know there was an arrival, and with the sound of Giles chit-chatting it sounded a social affair. At first it raised that subtle spectre to the mind of what does one do when they're a guest in an unfamiliar place and how to prevent that feeling of intrusion. Weigh it against the newcomer perhaps not knowing of his presence. Add in the entanglement of the two people beyond being perhaps romantically inclined and it added all sorts of interesting social angles. Yet he came away from it with the decision to make himself known. Since chances are they'd start making out out there or something and then it would be all the more awkward.     "Hello," His voice was heard from that back archway leading to the room. A hand lifts as he gives a wave, the blond young man who had stomped the poor put upon VW Rabbit. "Thank you for the use of your wifi."
Giles	There had just been cheek kissing, but nothing more risque than that. Giles draws back far enough he can look Mercy over, a quick glance. "Ah. Did you get the rusty bolts to let go?" Giles turns to walk toward the back of the shop. Cleaning supplies are back there. He drops the box off on the round table just below the library level on his way past it and continues on to the back. "I'll be right back, Mercy. Hello Alexander," he says. Through the back he disappears, not answering the observation until he returns. "Yes, I did. I thought I had that somewhere. I think it will be perfect for the Apophis stone." He carries with him a pair of towels and some wood cleaner. The kind the smells like oranges and makes a nice shine when it's done. He glances to Phobos. "Did you sleep well?" There's a brief pause and a nod. "You're welcome." For the use of the wifi, of course.
Mercy Thompson	The scent of Phobos -- which isn't just that tang of ozone in the air, to her nose -- is noticed. The woman-coyote doesn't comment on it, though -- she'd expected for him to remain for the period of three days that had been agreed upon with Sutekh for the contract to be reviewed. His appearance in the archway leading to the back room doesn't surprise her, and she looks towards him and gives a nod. "Good afternoon, Alexander," she offers in greeting to him. That's how he had introduced himself to her, so that's the name that gets put upon him. "Ah, no, I didn't get all of them. About half of them. I'll have to use the easy-out on the others if I can't get them later when I go back to it," Mercy says, her nose wrinkling slightly. The poor bestomped Rabbit is still outside the shop in the same parking space where it had been stomped upon. As it happened, it wouldn't start after all was said and done. Her attention turns back to Giles. "I'm sorry for the having to leave the Rabbit sitting out there. There's a tow truck coming later this afternoon or this evening to take it back to the shop for me," she comments. Then she gives a small nod when he mentions he'll be right back. When he returns, she notices what he's brought out with him, and she gives a nod towards the box. "Well, hopefully it'll work for it. And keep it and the power of it contained," she says, a thoughtful tone to her voice.
Phobos	"Yes, sir." Alexander replies to Giles as he steps out of the way so the man can get back and forth easier. He swipes his phone to hibernation before he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans then wanders back out into the main area. He'll catch Mercy's eye and give one of those closed mouth thin-lipped smiles meant to say 'Oh hi I remember you but our last meeting had some awkwardness.'     "Ma'am," He clears his throat then says, "I was feeling I should maybe be productive. Is there any grunt work you need done while I'm around?" Another pause as he looks around the room, then toward the myriad shelves as the occasional tchotchke grabs his attention, but he doesn't touch unless it looks like something that might reasonably well survive such an event.     Then he rounds back and says lightly, "Also, I sorta... was thinking. I know a fellow who works with Law Enforcement, they get some pretty nice deals on cars..." Since really. She drives that car by choice?
Sinister	The front doorbell chimes its jolly little appeal about nowish. Dressed almost completely in black with a leather frock-coat, Wessex enters wearing dark sunglasses to hide his eyes completely. Must be bright out there, or he's hiding something. They slide off when he enters, tucked into his inner coat pocket, revealing that the tissue around his eyes looks as if it's seen better days; dark circles abound. "Hello?" called before he spots people, he carries a rather old fashioned kind of equipment case with him, the handle leather and the fixtures made of brass. "Are you trying to bribe miss Mercy out of being cross about the Rabbit incident, mister Alexander?" he dryly admonishes. "I don't think she'll be interested unless they're good old Vorsprung durch technik."
Giles	Giles stops halfway to the table, his head tilted a little bit to the side. "I wonder.." But whatever it is Giles is wondering doesn't get spoken aloud. At least, not right at this moment. Whatever it is, he gets distracted from it by Mercy's apology. "Ah, not to worry. It's not in the way," he says. He looks toward the very dusty box on the table and resumes walking toward it. The stuff in his hands is sat on the tabletop, except for one rag. Giles reaches for the box and starts to wipe the dust off. Once some of the dust is off, there's an inlaid silver pentagram on the top. "I think it will," he replies. He nods to Phobos, but doesn't speak for now, letting him and Mercy chat about cars. When the bell over the door jingles again, Giles glances that way. "Oh, hi, Nicolas. How.." He stops and considers the dark cicles around the man's eyes. "What happened to you?" He can't help a smile at the doctor's words to Alexander about Mercy and German cars.
Mercy Thompson	Such is the awkwardness that happens when one happens to stomp a person's car! The vehicle she drover here today is at least less readily stompable -- it's a Vanagon Syncro with four wheel drive. One of her eyebrows quirks up at the 'ma'am' term used on her. "Mercy, not ma'am, please," Mercy requests, giving a nod towards Alexander. Then she's quiet a moment, listening as he speaks. She tilts her head to one side at the mention of deals on cars, a flicker of curiosity showing in her brown eyes. "What kind of cars? German makes?" she asks softly. Curiosity demands the question be asked. And, she wants to know, besides. If there are German cars, she can at least maintain it completely herself with the exception of the odd part now and again. Although the initial amount of money for the buying is where the challenge lies. With the chiming of the door's bell, Mercy turns her gaze turns in that direction, and she quirks a smile, seeming a bit amused at the German that Sinister spoke and giving a small nod to him. "It seems he might be. Might work, might not. I don't know what's wrong with the Rabbit, yet, I haven't had a chance to look it over, but it doesn't start the way it is. German vehicles are solid, and I know them pretty much inside out. I have the computers to hook up for the more recent models, at the shop," she comments, lifting one of her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. "Did someone hit you or is that a number of nights without sleep?" Her gaze turns back to Giles, and she gives a nod to him. "I'm glad it's not been in the way. It doesn't look that grand, sitting the way it is," she says. All stomped and everything. Her nose gives a slight twitch at the dust as it's wiped off the top of the box, and her nose wiggles briefly before she turns and sneezes.
Phobos	"I wouldn't say bribe." Which of course he wouldn't. Alexander does step further into the room and stops at those benches around the middle table, lightly pulling one corner of a seat out and settling upon it, his pale hazel eyes wandering over toward Wessex. "I'd more say offer a glimmer of light into a world of options."     If there is one thing that Alexander Aaron has mastered, it would likely be fencing. But if there were /two/ things then it might well be his dead-pan delivery as well. "Though yah," At the inquiry about cars of German make, "The VW Atlas is very prominent with drug dealers and gun runners. So there's that." Just offering options.     He smiles a little, "It's like..." He gestures with his arms out wide clearly not encompassing the enormity, "Huge, seats eight people. I saw one that even had a cupola in it disguised as a moon roof." Which assuredly is a sought after conversion.     "Though it also is supposed to be somewhat hackable as I think that's how the law enforcement agencies are able to get a hold of them and track them so easily."
Sinister	"Sometimes, one has to take it as read, that governments have arrangements with certain manufacturers for such back door access, or none of it makes any sense, given what we can do with things these days," Nicholas notes to Phobos' words, looking from the god to the mostly human in the shop. He reverse nods his chin to Mercy's words. "The latter. I thing I slept about four hours somewhere in the middle of the last three days, but the rest is--" he gestures at his face "--read." The box is glanced at and he brings his own equipment case to a nearby table, rather than the counter, popping the brass clasps and scrolling his thumb over a sensor that's anything BUT old fashioned. It unclicks as he observes the box, "...is that a magic box? In the magic box?"
Giles	The initial amount of money may or may not be an issue. Giles looks thoughtful. Then again, he always looks thoughtful. Almost always. He glances to Wessex, then back to Mercy, and then to Alexander. And, perhaps wisely, goes back to wiping the box off. One the dust is all cleared off, he lays that rag down and gets the other one. Some of the cleaner is sprayed onto it, and he starts to wipe down the box. After a few moments of this, he sits down without really looking at the chair. He glances briefly to Wessex again, and nods. "It's a type of magic box in the Magic Box," he says. "'tis to seal the stone away. The.. circle and pentagram atop it will help with that."
Mercy Thompson	There are a world of options available, where cars and other vehicles are concerned. It's a matter of being able to afford them or their upkeep that's part of the trick of it. "The Atlas? First came out in twenty-sixteen. It's not a bad vehicle, overall, but it's sigificantly larger than the Rabbit. It's better now than when it first came out, they had some issues with the brakes and the engine back then. Comes in either a two or three row set up and has a fair deal of cargo space, but I don't usually need to carry that many people," Mercy says, a thoughtful tone to her voice. "I don't strictly specialize in Volkswagens. I can take care of the other German brands as well," she adds. She's quiet a moment, considering it for a bit of a longer moment. "What kind of deals can be had on something smaller than an SUV?" she asks, curious. She'll have to see if she can finish off her current project car and get it sold, but that's a ways off. Her gaze turns to Sinister, and one of her eyebrows quirks up a bit before she gives a nod. "Used teabags can help with the dark circles," she offers in a soft tone. "Government agencies likely have arrangements with other garages, the chain ones, for making different modifications to their vehicles," she says. She tilts her head slightly to one side at his play with words, and she quirks a grin. "That shouldn't really be surprising," she comments, amused. Her gaze turns to Giles, watching him for a lingering moment. Then her gaze turns to the box that he's cleaning up, her attention perked a little bit by it. "It's pretty," she says with a smile. "Is it because it's silver?" she asks, curious.
Phobos	"Yeah," Alexander responds easily enough as he scritches at the back of his neck. Then he offers his own bit of insight about government and car manufacturers, "I sort of grew up in a prepper environment, and I know people who will only drive cars that have no computer interfaces or brains. There's actually a demand for it to downgrade vehicles so they're dumbified." His head tilts to the side, "Also you apparently get a strong performance increase for some makes and models since the computers can act as inhibitors."     A small boneless shrug is given then he smiles easily enough as if to say, 'oh well, what can you do?'     Though when Mercy starts talking cars it's clear that Alexander is not exactly a gearhead. He smiles a little and gestures with one hand to the side as if surrendering to her authority on the matter. "As for deals, well. It's all pretty hit or miss. There are auctions, and sometimes they're done with little warning so there are only a handful of people bidding." A pause as his eyes lift upwards as if trying to summon the memories from the aether. Then he looks back toward her, "I saw a pretty nice Porsche go for about two thousand dollars. But that's more the exception than the rule. I'll mail you the deets sometime."
Sinister	Sinister gives a tick of a smile at Phobos' words, the tacit apology disguised as his general desire to upgrade the Mercymobile or its potential sibling. He looks at the box with his head slightly tilted and opens his own case. Inside it is a small device made of what looks like buffed chrome, with a LCD display buffered by a windowframe of ruby quartz. It has two probes attached to one end that look like thermometers with reasonably long cords that feed into the device. Overall, it's about the size of an AED and could even be a modified kind of that exact sort of device. "Erm, Rupert? Would you mind if I attempted to take an energy reading off the box, before anything gets done to it or put in it? I'm trying to work out if magical charge can be read in any way-- been working on this for the last three days, trying to work out if I'm just blowing smoke in my own eyes."
Giles	Giles looks up from the box at Mercy's comment and then question. "Hmm? Oh. Um. Yes, actually. Well, partially. The silver helps hold the magic, but it's the circle itself that is necessary. The pentagram to anchor it is also helpful." He looks back to his box, it's polishing up nicely now. The wood streaked in two colors, one darker and reddish, the other paler and golden. He listens without comment to the coversation between Mercy and Alexander. Only looking up again when Wessex speaks his name. "I don't mind. Welcome to try." It really should work. Afterall, if a person can sense mystical energies, there's obviously something there /to/ sense. So why not a machine set up to read the same? Anything is possible. He finishes with the box and rises to his feet. He walks from the table where he was sitting cleaning it and over to Wessex. Giles sets the box down on the surface beside the doctor's box. "Be my guest," he says.
Mercy Thompson	"Yeah, it's a thing. I've had it requested a couple of times before, but it's not a common thing that I see at the shop. But my shop has just me doing all of the work," Mercy comments, her tone thoughtful. "People get to thinking that they're easily hacked, and they want them out. I just find the older models to be easier to fix, most times," she says, lifting one of her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. She tilts her head a bit to one side at the additional details that he offers, and then she gives a nod. "If you don't mind sending them along, I'd appreciate it. I'll make sure to give you my email address later," she says, her tone thoughtful. She might or might not be able to afford something better than her Rabbit by the time it comes around. Maybe. "Thank you," she adds, giving a small nod to him. She -does- seem to appreciate it. She blinks and looks over to Sinister, tilting her head to one side. "You think magic translates to an energy reading?" she asks, curious. "That kind of makes sense. It is a sort of energy, after all," she adds, after giving it a bit of consideration. She can sense a fair number of magic, but she's not offering that information up. Her attention shifts to Giles, easily, and she gives a nod. "Silver is just one of those things. I'm not sure why, but it holds magic. Maybe something about it being metal and in a circle, I can't recall why," she says, her brow wrinkling slightly. "It's an interesting theory, at least," she adds, quirking a smile.
Phobos	"Yeah, I'm pretty great." Alexander says in answer to the comment as Mercy thanks him, and his dead-pan delivery is there again. But this time it breaks a little as he shoots a look and a half-smile over at Giles, knowing that the guy has already heard that small joke Alex makes now and again.     But then he crinkles his nose, "So while you guys talk about the magic box." He pushes himself to his feet and /streeeeetches/ then stifles a small yawns. Alex stands up and looks around, "You sure there isn't any light filing or..." His nose crinkles a smidge, "Dusting? To be done?"     He starts to walk over to one of the higher shelves and runs a finger over it, lightly checking his fingertips for the greyish residue. "I know being a magical being I should be all sorts of into all the weirdness. But after a few minutes talking about it my eyes start to cross."
Sinister	"Old medicinal texts tell a little as to why silver works so well -- ALchemical medicine actually had a few things right way back when, in that Silver has some purification functions. Medicinally, silver nitrate in other compounds can prompt healing and cleansing of infection and silvered chirurgeon's tools, though nowhere close to surgical steel, actually kept remarkably clean, all things considered..." Sinister murmurs as he presses a tiny button behind the ruby quartz shield and listens as the device softly hums up to life, giving Giles a smile. "Thank you for this. I have no idea if we'll read anything of value, but you never know, right?" He takes the probes, glancing over at Phobos and in an aside, sotto voce mutter "...maybe give him a broom?" with a slight quirk of lip and an arch of eyebrow, he puts the probes on either side of the box he brought the device in. The LCD display displays an unhelpful 0.01-2-backto-1. "Hmmmn," a few more inanimate objects get tested, mostly producing the same effect. Only then does he try the points of the silver pentagram on the box and liiiiiiiightly touches. Odd side effect of this, it's like he put his hands on a tesla coil. Hair liiiiiiiifts. The reading? Goes up to .5. "Well, it's measuring something. I have no idea what it's actual value is, given level of energy, but it's reading .4." He appears not to have noticed his hair.
Giles	Magic itself might not be energy, but energy of a sort /is/ required to power it, at the very least. "Silver has a high electrical and thermal conductivity, as well as antibacterial properties," replies Giles to Mercy's question. "'tis considered a purifying element and can reflect negative energy. And it takes and holds spell castings well." Alexander's small joke is met with an expression of some amusement, if not an outright smile. He's.. distracted. When the finger is ran across the top shelf, he'll find that it's entirely dust free. "If you want to dust, there's plenty of dust in the basement. Just... don't touch anything. I haven't had time to go over everything down there to make sure 'tis safe." His mostly blue eyes go to Wessex and he does smile then. "It's not a problem," he says. "And if this doesn't, I have no objection if you want to try to use it when I'm casting a spell." He looks back to Alexander. "Actually, I'd rather you stay up here. If you set off the wrong thing, and wind up dead, your uncle is going to have my hide." His lips twitch faintly. "You could sweep. There's always sweeping to be done." Customers always bring things in on their feet. And so does Giles and the rest of the Scooby gang, so there's always /something/ to sweep! Giles looks back to the little box, then to the big box. He moves closer to Wessex so he can see the readings better. "Interesting. I wonder if active magic would have a higher reading.." Giles hasn't noticed Wessex's hair lifting either.
Mercy Thompson	One of her eyebrows quirks as she looks to Alexander, and she snorts a soft breath through her nose. Yet there's a smile that quirks at the corners of her lips, and she lifts a hand to lightly brush one of her braids back to her back. "Magic isn't really your thing, huh?" Mercy asks, a touch of amusement to her voice. She studies him a moment, and then she looks over towards Giles. It's his shop, so it's his call to make as to whether or not there's any work for Alexander to do. "I just come visit and bring lunch. Any work details, you're best asking Rupert," she says, quirking a smile. At the mention of lunch, she lifts the bag that's held in one of her hands, which has a couple of containers in it. The woman-coyote turns her attention to Sinister, and she lifts one of her shoulders in a faint shrug. "It depends on the patient. Some folk, the silver nitrate is... interesting in other ways," she comments, a smile quirking her lips. She knows folks that it doesn't react well with, but she's not going to go into details at the moment. And she notices without making comment about his hair lifting. Interesting! "Mm, so a few different properties of it make it good for what you're going to use it for," she says, her tone thoughtful. "That's pretty neat," she adds, giving a small nod. She tilts her head a bit to one side, studying the pair of them. "Active magic? Like cast a spell and stick the probe into the spell somehow?" she asks, sounding curious.
Phobos	Sweeping. He likes sweeping for some reason. It causes a light in his eyes to glimmer as Alexander says, "Yeah, that works, where's the broom?" Yet even as he says that he's off on the hunt looking for the aforementioned house cleaning tool. Though he isn't exactly intrusive in that hunt, rather he wanders to likely closets and peers inside, or around door corners, or perhaps under the counter? Somewhere that brooms hide when they're good brooms.     "If that's a point of concern," Alexander's voice is heard from behind the counter even as he pokes and searches. "You should probably know I have a looot of uncles, and they often get angry for the most esoteric of reasons."     Eventually he does have some measure of success, perhaps after being given some guidance or non-verbal cues by those so concerned. But once he has the broom in hand he swoops it up in a casual martial swirl, tucks it in against the back of one arm and strolls along the room dividing it up mentally and making his attack plan for dealing with the cleanliness situation.     "And aunts too, to be fair." Then, path decided, he applies the broom properly and begins to clean with a swish-swish-swish, attacking the room with a cleaning strategy that would be the envy of Caesar.     "But no," Towards Mercy as he cleans, swish-swish, "Magic isn't my thing, though I like it when it makes peoples' hair go all funky." Which has him giving a nod in Wessex's direction.
Sinister	"I guess, if you let me observe the binding, I can quietly probe in an unobtrustive way. They don't hurt, they just measure well... energy read'..." cut off for a moment by his ears hearing things, Sinister casts a blank look at Phobos, observing the broom strategy and then the track of eyes. He looks upward. "Huh." He takes off the probe edges -- flop. Puts them on again -- UP! "Maybe there's a measure of static electrical or static mystical charge that has an effect." Off-down. On-up! Just once more, for posterity. "Speaking of your uncles, ahhh... when /is/ moonrise?" he asks this, given it's early afternoon right now, and he helpfully didn't bring his farmer's almanac. "And for that matter, did any decision get made?" He proffers the probes to Giles to see if the man wants to slake his own curiosity and in NO way to see someone else's hair stand up.
Giles	"Magic isn't for everyone," says Giles, his voice soft. "Magic is dangerous and can, and often does, have unforseen consequences." He doesn't say that magic can also be quite deadly. But then there's bags of food being held up. Giles often doesn't remember to bring food to the Magic Box, or take the time to eat when he's here because he gets distracted and lost in his books and research. But if there's food right in front of it and is attention is drawn to it? "What did you bring us today?" Whether or not Alexander has been included in that question, Giles gives nary a hint. "And by that, she means things like werewolves. And a lot of other supernatural creatures that are tied to the moon. For a lot of them, silver can be quite deadly." He hasn't looked from the box or the machine taking the readings while talking to the others. Now, he looks up and over at Mercy, and shakes his head. "Not into the spell, no. That is not easy to do. But he could try it on me whilst I'm casting. Or on the objects of power I'm using. Or the spell circle itself." Giles pauses, and blinks. "Ah!" He snaps his fingers and turns away from the probe and heads to the back. "Come with me," he says excitedly. "I know exactly what you can test." He walks past Alexander doing his martial trick with the broom without even seeing it, so focused is he on whatever it is he's remembered. "Lots of uncles. And aunts," he murmurs with a very distracted tone. Giles hasn't even noticed Wessex playing with his hair, and turned away /just/ before the probes were offered to him. He has something much better in mind! "The new moon is on June eleventh. Monday next." Two days hense, as this is Saturday.
Mercy Thompson	"I think it's safe to say that I'm not planning on making any of your uncles -- or aunts, for that matter -- angry. For a little reason or a big reason," Mercy comments, quirking a smile as she looks in Alexander's direction. She doesn't offer any enlightenment as to the whereabouts of the room, but she does watch him hunt it out for the purposes of sweeping. It's more fun that way, and it might just be a bit of her father's mischievousness coming out in her. And she can't help but to quirk a bit of a grin and nod, at the latter of what he says. "That is a bit amusing, isn't it?" she asks, raising an eyebrow slightly. As she looks over to Sinister at his testing with the probes, and his hair thus flopping up and down, she can't help but to giggle. Because it amuses her. And her gaze turns then to Giles, listening as he speaks, and she gives a nod to part of it. "Mmhmm, magic can be unpredictable, sometimes," she says in a thoughtful tone. Then she smiles when he asks about the food. "I brought macaroni salad, and juice, and chocolate chip cookies. Some with nuts, some without them," she answers. "Well... yeah, different things have less of a liking for different metals. For werewolves, it's silver. For the fae, it's iron," she says in a soft tone, lifting one of her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. Knowledge that she kind of takes for granted for the fact that she has it, since she's had it for years. Then she blinks at Giles at his 'ah-hah' moment, tilting her head to one side. With the food still in had, she makes to follow -- the curiosity simply must be satisfied.
Phobos	As for Alexander he just casually sweeps, and he has a really mathematical and precise approach to it. The room is clearly divided up into sections and he is moving what dust and dirt there is in a steady way toward the progression from one sector to the next. Like some elaborate campaign against Gaul, he continues on, even using the bench-seated table as his own personal Alesia with it being a central point where the dust and grime will hold out longer than the rest of the dirt.     "Doesn't take much," Alexander says thoughtfully, and most likely talking to himself as he works. There's still the occasional swish-swish of the broom as he works. "An off-handed comment in ear shot."     He holds the broom in one hand, pondering a turning point in the battle and choosing to push forward. "Or daring to show affection to someone they consider 'their's' even when the person they think is their's doesn't know them from Adam."     Swish-swish.
Sinister	"I always felt pity for Arachne; just goes to show, even the most level headed of your family, supposedly, flies of the railings and devastates someone for just being good at their craft and causes them to commit suicide." Sinister replies to the mumble, glancing to the methodical sweeping. His brows lift just a little at the thorough assault, and perhaps, for just an instant, he considers rallying gaul behind druidic magic that casts the dust to the four corners. His left hand twitches the pinky finger and a little of the dust does seem to swirl an eddy away from the neat and organized piles. But then there is food being named and he peers with an arched neck at the containers, the probes switched to be held in the same hand, even as Giles has a moment of Eureka. "Hmmm?" So he follows, curiously, carrying the device of his own making under the power of his own mind, as it simply follows him as Giles goes off a'rummaging, floating along obligingly.
Giles	Giles hadn't offered any broom advice either. Then again, he was distracted! He pauses on the way to the back, and looks back at Mercy. "Maca-.. No. After this," he says and keeps going. To, of all places, the excercise mats in the back. He doesn't object to Mercy following. He absently nods at what Alexander says. He knows people like that himself. Some of them might or might not be family. He crouches down at the floor mats and lifts the nearest corner up. He rises with it in hand, and folds it back. The graceful curve of a silver circle can be seen there, inlaid into the wood floor panelling. He pulls the rest of it back and the rest of the circle is revealed. It is, perhaps, ten feet across. "Have a go at this circle," he says to Wessex.
Mercy Thompson	There's a glance towards the methodical sweeping and a moment of time spent in watching it be done. One of her eyebrows quirks up slightly as she watches, and she lifts her free hand to rub her nose a little bit. The dust, it tickles her nose, though she doesn't give in to more sneezes, at the moment. "Mmm, well... that's not so different than with people, right? It doesn't take much with them, either," she muses, a thoughtful tone to her voice. Werewolves can get offended at the drop of a hat, sometimes faster. Her attention shifts to Sinister, and she tilts her head a bit to one side. "Oh, if you're hungry, there's enough for all of us, so you can share in," she offers. It makes a large batch, the macaroni salad, and though it might not have been her original intention, she's not going to let them go hungry. "The macaroni salad has bacon and cheese in it," she adds. She carries the bag of food over to the table, then sets it down there. Her gaze turns to Giles as he pulls back the exercise mats to reveal the silver circle beneath it, taking a moment to look it over. "That's a fairly large circle," she says softly, drawing out a chair to sit and watch, curious.
Phobos	So to when Vercingetorix rallies his troops and assaults the forces of Rome from within and without, Caesar did surge to the front to handle the incursion most handily. Though in this case Alexander is forced to leeeean back and sweep up some of the errant mites before he returns to his normally scheduled plan.     For now he falls silent and tends to his work, which likely is doing what he needs it to do. Pass that time while they wait for the moonrise. With attention off him and on the magical theories being bandied about this sort of allocation of interest seems to suit him just fine.