Backdated June 8, 2009 - Kevin/Desmond - Curiosity Kills - "You sound like a man far from home."
[Backdated June 8;Curiosity Kills;Kevin and Desmond;]
It had been a slow day at Curiosity Kills, in terms of visitors, but Kevin was still in a very good mood. He had recently completed a sale of an old folio and a few other items, making a generous profit in the process. Not only that, but he had received a new item earlier today - a music box made in the mid 19th century. After verifying that the item was fully intact and functioning as described by the seller, Kevin busied himself cataloguing it and adding it to his inventory. It was getting on towards closing in any case.
Desmond found himself once again roaming the streets and alleys of his new home. He had been in New Orleans for weeks now and yet he was still discovering, learning, and he loved it. Turning a corner he caught a faint trace of a familiar scent. Jude. Well, at least some place that he had visited more than once. Curiosity led Des's footsteps until he found himself in front of an antique shop with a name that made him surprisingly uneasy. Shrugging off the odd sensation, Des pushed through the door.
Kevin was writing out the index card for the music box when he heard the chime of the door. He looked up and saw the man coming in. "Good evening. Welcome to Curiosity Kills. Can I help you find anything?"
"Just thought I'd look around, brotha," Desmond offered the shop keeper a smile. "I wont stay past closing, but the shop was... recommended to me so I thought I would give it a look."
Kevin smiled back. "No worries, take as much time as you need. I'm flattered that someone spoke well of the store. There are description cards on everything." He finished the last bit of the notecard and stepped over to add it to the card catalog. "You sound like a man far from home." The man's Scottish accent was fairly pronounced.
"Yeah, the accent does give me away," Des's eyes traveled down the nearest aisle, taking in the various objects. "Interesting assortment of merchandise you have here. A person could get lost in it all."
"Thank you. I deal mostly in printed materials, but I do like having some curiosities to hand as well." He looked around. Yes, Kevin was definitely proud of his store. "Glaswegian, I'd guess?"
Picking up a heavy, well aged tome, Desmond reveled in the smell of antique pages. He wasn't as old as many of his kind, yet he always held a special affinity for old books. The feel, the weight, the smell, it made reading an experience instead of a means to an end. "Round and about, yeah. Just relocated here in the last coupla months really."
Kevin nodded in approval of the man's interest in the book. "I've only been here a few years, myself. What brings you to these parts?"
"A friend of mine offered me a place," simple answer for a simple question. "Needed the change of scenery. And what of you, brotha? How did you end up in the big easy selling priceless books to drunken Mardi Gras attendees?"
"Oh, everything here has a price, believe me." Kevin said, amused. "The short story is that I came here to collect an inheritance, which turned out to include a rather nice library." He shrugged. "I liked the place, so I decided to settle down and get into books professionally."
"Seems like you enjoy it, brotha." Aflash of recognition flitted through Desmond's mind. This human was knowledgeable, "even with the... unique clientele New Orleans can bring."
"It's not a bad life." Kevin said. "I do like the merchandise, and the business has been reasonably successful." He smiled. "You are right enough, though. There are plenty of unique individuals in this area. Who may I ask referred you? Perhaps I would remember them."
"A fellow foreigner," Des was certain the other man would remember his friend. The shop keeper was suspicious of his friend and soon would likely be of him as well. "Jude was very enthusiastic about your selection when he told me about this place."
Kevin nodded. "Jude, yes, of course. I'll have to thank him for speaking well of the place. He has a definite passion for books."
"Aye, that he does," Des approached the sales counter at a casual place, taking a deep breath inward. "I love the smell of this place. No modern book store can compare to it."
"Well, it has a fair amount of modern behind the curtain." Kevin said. "Security systems, computers, and so on. But yes, the smells are a big part of the atmosphere."
"So what was it about this place, this business, that really keeps you captivated?" Des turned, leaning his lower back against the side of the counter. He had learned the hard way that fixing a knowledgeable human, not intended for dinner, under his stare could have not so nice consequences. "Surely you could have sold books anywhere... any books really."
"I had always had an interest in books." Kevin said. "I suppose the combination of getting the inheritance and being in the area was the reason. I had traveled extensively for most of my life, and the idea of settling down had some appeal. Only a portion of my inventory is from the original collection at this point. I've been doing a fair amount of acquiring and, thankfully, selling. I suppose the area had an appeal for the idea of a curiosity shop, since the culture is so unique here."
"It warms my heart," Desmond smiled a bit at his own not so appropriate joke, "to see that the city did not loose that... uniqueness all things considered. Maybe even it attracted more in the aftermath."
"It's hard to have things taken away." Kevin said. "But all we can do is try to rebuild. This shop used to be a bank, at one point. I'm glad I was able to put it to new use, rather than having it destroyed entirely."
"And a good use for it too," Desmond's eyes swept across the shop, taking in the various curios and cases. Despite the priceless merchandise, the shop felt comfortable and welcoming, quite an accomplishment. "Tell me, do you ever get in religious materials?"
"Various bibles and other faith-related documents, certainly." Kevin said. "I have a small collection of antique rosaries - is that the sort of thing you mean?"
"Those I would certainly like to see." Desmond had to leave behind many personal and religious items after his change. Wouldn't do to have a vampire return to the monastery for the rosary he had received upon his baptism, but he missed the item all the same.
Kevin nodded. "I'll get the case, one moment." He steps into the back for a minute, returning with a small display case on a rolling cart. "I don't generally display these openly - I've had a few issues with people taking offense at the notion of religious antiques being put up for sale in this manner." He shrugged. "Best to avoid trouble when you can."
"Absolutely lovely," his voice trailed off as his eyes danced across the various objects. Rosaries had always fascinated Desmond since childhood. He took a quick glance up at the shop keeper, "I can understand your reasoning though, keeping them put away."
"Of course, it's also true that my insurance provider insists on plenty of security measures for my inventory." He grinned. "I think they would cry more than I, were the place to be robbed or burned down."
"You are wise to protect the merchandise." Desmond paused for a moment, pointing to a wooden rosary of simple design, "could I see that one, brotha?"
"Of course - one second." Kevin goes behind the counter and retrieves a key from a drawer. Returning, he unlocks and opens the case. "Go ahead and have a closer look. The cards have the information, as you can see."
It was significantly younger than some of the more valuable pieces in the case, and certainly less opulent, but it warmed Desmond's dead heart as he lifted it out of the case. "It looks just like my father's. If you are ready to part with it I'd like to purchase it."
"I'll look the price up." Kevin looked at the ID number on the card, then went behind the counter again. After checking on the computer for a minute, he wrote a number on a piece of paper and brought it back. "That's the asking price."
Desmond took a cursory glance at the paper, but he knew that he could easily afford the piece. He may not have had much upon his... death but Desmond had invested well in the last decade thanks to the sound advice of friends like Mellors. He was now quite comfortable. Grabbing his wallet from his back pocket, Desmond handed the shop keeper his credit card.
"At this rate, I'll have a display case for cash." Kevin joked, taking the card and running it. "Actually I do have some older currency. A lot of people are interested in Confederate money, believe it or not."
"Aye I can believe that," Desmond laughed at the shop keepers joke. "Always amazes me how you Americans focus on that war. Books, movies, bloody reenactments... Its quite a spectacle."
"It was all about us, I guess that's part of the reason why." Kevin said, bringing the slip on a clipboard and one of his fountain pens. "Of course, every war tends to be romanticized to some degree."
"That," Desmond signed his name quickly, it had always looked more like a doctor's scrawl than a real signature, "is very true, brotha."
Kevin takes the slip, handing over the receipt and offering the fountain pen. "A souvenir, with my compliments. I haven't been to Scotland for a while, but the memories are fond." He smiled. "Not counting the hangover, of course."
"Its a must in Scotland, I'm afraid to say. Gotta have one good bender every visit home," Desmond's smile was colored with a bit of sadness, he missed his home often though he knew he would not return for a few decades at least. Reaching out Desmond grabbed the offered pen, taking not of the shops logo on the side, "Thanks brotha. I hope I haven't kept you open too late."
"I'm afraid I went under rather fast, though the guys didn't give me too hard a time about it." Kevin grinned at the memory. "It's no trouble. I live upstairs, so I don't have far to go to get home. I'm Kevin, by the way."
"Its a pleasure Kevin," he extended his hand out of habit. "I'm Desmond."
Kevin shook Desmond's hand. "The pleasure is all mine." He glanced at the rosary again. "You are a Catholic?"
"Once upon a time I was. I'm pretty sure in a past life I may have been a monk." It was stretching the truth a bit, but Desmond figured it told his story well enough.
"I'm rather severely lapsed, myself." Kevin said. "The child of two already-lapsed Catholics." He shrugged. "Such is life, I suppose. So have you and Jude known each other for a long time?"
"Met him after I moved to New Orleans actually, so not long."
Kevin nodded. "He's good people." He grinned. "And I say that not because I made money from him."
"Aye," he knew the man's words were spoken honestly, and that raised Desmond's esteem for the shopkeeper. "He is certainly good people," the American slang was a bit awkward on his tongue.
"Well, is there anything else I can help you with tonight?" Kevin said.
"Oh sorry. I keep dragging out your night unnecessarily," despite the slight awkward quality of the conversation, Desmond had enjoyed it. He had not interacted so directly with a non food human in several years. "I'll just take the rosary and be out of your hair."
"Not at all." Kevin said, and meant it. "I guess it's just the mode I get into when I'm working. It's always a pleasure to talk with someone who appreciates what we have, here."
"I appreciate it very much, brotha. I'll definitely be comin in again," Desmond smiled at the shopkeeper as he walked towards the door. "Have a good night."
"And you." Kevin nodded as the man exited.
It had been a slow day at Curiosity Kills, in terms of visitors, but Kevin was still in a very good mood. He had recently completed a sale of an old folio and a few other items, making a generous profit in the process. Not only that, but he had received a new item earlier today - a music box made in the mid 19th century. After verifying that the item was fully intact and functioning as described by the seller, Kevin busied himself cataloguing it and adding it to his inventory. It was getting on towards closing in any case.
Desmond found himself once again roaming the streets and alleys of his new home. He had been in New Orleans for weeks now and yet he was still discovering, learning, and he loved it. Turning a corner he caught a faint trace of a familiar scent. Jude. Well, at least some place that he had visited more than once. Curiosity led Des's footsteps until he found himself in front of an antique shop with a name that made him surprisingly uneasy. Shrugging off the odd sensation, Des pushed through the door.
Kevin was writing out the index card for the music box when he heard the chime of the door. He looked up and saw the man coming in. "Good evening. Welcome to Curiosity Kills. Can I help you find anything?"
"Just thought I'd look around, brotha," Desmond offered the shop keeper a smile. "I wont stay past closing, but the shop was... recommended to me so I thought I would give it a look."
Kevin smiled back. "No worries, take as much time as you need. I'm flattered that someone spoke well of the store. There are description cards on everything." He finished the last bit of the notecard and stepped over to add it to the card catalog. "You sound like a man far from home." The man's Scottish accent was fairly pronounced.
"Yeah, the accent does give me away," Des's eyes traveled down the nearest aisle, taking in the various objects. "Interesting assortment of merchandise you have here. A person could get lost in it all."
"Thank you. I deal mostly in printed materials, but I do like having some curiosities to hand as well." He looked around. Yes, Kevin was definitely proud of his store. "Glaswegian, I'd guess?"
Picking up a heavy, well aged tome, Desmond reveled in the smell of antique pages. He wasn't as old as many of his kind, yet he always held a special affinity for old books. The feel, the weight, the smell, it made reading an experience instead of a means to an end. "Round and about, yeah. Just relocated here in the last coupla months really."
Kevin nodded in approval of the man's interest in the book. "I've only been here a few years, myself. What brings you to these parts?"
"A friend of mine offered me a place," simple answer for a simple question. "Needed the change of scenery. And what of you, brotha? How did you end up in the big easy selling priceless books to drunken Mardi Gras attendees?"
"Oh, everything here has a price, believe me." Kevin said, amused. "The short story is that I came here to collect an inheritance, which turned out to include a rather nice library." He shrugged. "I liked the place, so I decided to settle down and get into books professionally."
"Seems like you enjoy it, brotha." Aflash of recognition flitted through Desmond's mind. This human was knowledgeable, "even with the... unique clientele New Orleans can bring."
"It's not a bad life." Kevin said. "I do like the merchandise, and the business has been reasonably successful." He smiled. "You are right enough, though. There are plenty of unique individuals in this area. Who may I ask referred you? Perhaps I would remember them."
"A fellow foreigner," Des was certain the other man would remember his friend. The shop keeper was suspicious of his friend and soon would likely be of him as well. "Jude was very enthusiastic about your selection when he told me about this place."
Kevin nodded. "Jude, yes, of course. I'll have to thank him for speaking well of the place. He has a definite passion for books."
"Aye, that he does," Des approached the sales counter at a casual place, taking a deep breath inward. "I love the smell of this place. No modern book store can compare to it."
"Well, it has a fair amount of modern behind the curtain." Kevin said. "Security systems, computers, and so on. But yes, the smells are a big part of the atmosphere."
"So what was it about this place, this business, that really keeps you captivated?" Des turned, leaning his lower back against the side of the counter. He had learned the hard way that fixing a knowledgeable human, not intended for dinner, under his stare could have not so nice consequences. "Surely you could have sold books anywhere... any books really."
"I had always had an interest in books." Kevin said. "I suppose the combination of getting the inheritance and being in the area was the reason. I had traveled extensively for most of my life, and the idea of settling down had some appeal. Only a portion of my inventory is from the original collection at this point. I've been doing a fair amount of acquiring and, thankfully, selling. I suppose the area had an appeal for the idea of a curiosity shop, since the culture is so unique here."
"It warms my heart," Desmond smiled a bit at his own not so appropriate joke, "to see that the city did not loose that... uniqueness all things considered. Maybe even it attracted more in the aftermath."
"It's hard to have things taken away." Kevin said. "But all we can do is try to rebuild. This shop used to be a bank, at one point. I'm glad I was able to put it to new use, rather than having it destroyed entirely."
"And a good use for it too," Desmond's eyes swept across the shop, taking in the various curios and cases. Despite the priceless merchandise, the shop felt comfortable and welcoming, quite an accomplishment. "Tell me, do you ever get in religious materials?"
"Various bibles and other faith-related documents, certainly." Kevin said. "I have a small collection of antique rosaries - is that the sort of thing you mean?"
"Those I would certainly like to see." Desmond had to leave behind many personal and religious items after his change. Wouldn't do to have a vampire return to the monastery for the rosary he had received upon his baptism, but he missed the item all the same.
Kevin nodded. "I'll get the case, one moment." He steps into the back for a minute, returning with a small display case on a rolling cart. "I don't generally display these openly - I've had a few issues with people taking offense at the notion of religious antiques being put up for sale in this manner." He shrugged. "Best to avoid trouble when you can."
"Absolutely lovely," his voice trailed off as his eyes danced across the various objects. Rosaries had always fascinated Desmond since childhood. He took a quick glance up at the shop keeper, "I can understand your reasoning though, keeping them put away."
"Of course, it's also true that my insurance provider insists on plenty of security measures for my inventory." He grinned. "I think they would cry more than I, were the place to be robbed or burned down."
"You are wise to protect the merchandise." Desmond paused for a moment, pointing to a wooden rosary of simple design, "could I see that one, brotha?"
"Of course - one second." Kevin goes behind the counter and retrieves a key from a drawer. Returning, he unlocks and opens the case. "Go ahead and have a closer look. The cards have the information, as you can see."
It was significantly younger than some of the more valuable pieces in the case, and certainly less opulent, but it warmed Desmond's dead heart as he lifted it out of the case. "It looks just like my father's. If you are ready to part with it I'd like to purchase it."
"I'll look the price up." Kevin looked at the ID number on the card, then went behind the counter again. After checking on the computer for a minute, he wrote a number on a piece of paper and brought it back. "That's the asking price."
Desmond took a cursory glance at the paper, but he knew that he could easily afford the piece. He may not have had much upon his... death but Desmond had invested well in the last decade thanks to the sound advice of friends like Mellors. He was now quite comfortable. Grabbing his wallet from his back pocket, Desmond handed the shop keeper his credit card.
"At this rate, I'll have a display case for cash." Kevin joked, taking the card and running it. "Actually I do have some older currency. A lot of people are interested in Confederate money, believe it or not."
"Aye I can believe that," Desmond laughed at the shop keepers joke. "Always amazes me how you Americans focus on that war. Books, movies, bloody reenactments... Its quite a spectacle."
"It was all about us, I guess that's part of the reason why." Kevin said, bringing the slip on a clipboard and one of his fountain pens. "Of course, every war tends to be romanticized to some degree."
"That," Desmond signed his name quickly, it had always looked more like a doctor's scrawl than a real signature, "is very true, brotha."
Kevin takes the slip, handing over the receipt and offering the fountain pen. "A souvenir, with my compliments. I haven't been to Scotland for a while, but the memories are fond." He smiled. "Not counting the hangover, of course."
"Its a must in Scotland, I'm afraid to say. Gotta have one good bender every visit home," Desmond's smile was colored with a bit of sadness, he missed his home often though he knew he would not return for a few decades at least. Reaching out Desmond grabbed the offered pen, taking not of the shops logo on the side, "Thanks brotha. I hope I haven't kept you open too late."
"I'm afraid I went under rather fast, though the guys didn't give me too hard a time about it." Kevin grinned at the memory. "It's no trouble. I live upstairs, so I don't have far to go to get home. I'm Kevin, by the way."
"Its a pleasure Kevin," he extended his hand out of habit. "I'm Desmond."
Kevin shook Desmond's hand. "The pleasure is all mine." He glanced at the rosary again. "You are a Catholic?"
"Once upon a time I was. I'm pretty sure in a past life I may have been a monk." It was stretching the truth a bit, but Desmond figured it told his story well enough.
"I'm rather severely lapsed, myself." Kevin said. "The child of two already-lapsed Catholics." He shrugged. "Such is life, I suppose. So have you and Jude known each other for a long time?"
"Met him after I moved to New Orleans actually, so not long."
Kevin nodded. "He's good people." He grinned. "And I say that not because I made money from him."
"Aye," he knew the man's words were spoken honestly, and that raised Desmond's esteem for the shopkeeper. "He is certainly good people," the American slang was a bit awkward on his tongue.
"Well, is there anything else I can help you with tonight?" Kevin said.
"Oh sorry. I keep dragging out your night unnecessarily," despite the slight awkward quality of the conversation, Desmond had enjoyed it. He had not interacted so directly with a non food human in several years. "I'll just take the rosary and be out of your hair."
"Not at all." Kevin said, and meant it. "I guess it's just the mode I get into when I'm working. It's always a pleasure to talk with someone who appreciates what we have, here."
"I appreciate it very much, brotha. I'll definitely be comin in again," Desmond smiled at the shopkeeper as he walked towards the door. "Have a good night."
"And you." Kevin nodded as the man exited.