UStuck RP: The Dark Arts and Crafts

Greg was not pouting, thank you very much. It stung a little that Mr. Verdigris didn’t think he was capable when he has had some pretty impressive successes. After all, even his mother had congratulated him on his anti-weapon ward before it turned her knitting needles into pipe cleaners. And he had managed to keep him and Kitty safe from the attacking dinosaur shark princess for an hour while their parents tried to figure out a way to safely get past its guards of ninja bunny robots.

He was capable dammit. Most of the time. When he was paying attention. And there weren’t lava lamps that he had been told didn’t move on their own actually moving and distracting him.

When Mr. Verdigris greeted the person at the counter, Greg looked up to find Mrs. Farina staring at him. Greg wanted to curse. Now his mother would definitely learn about the unauthorized doll abduction, and he would be in so much trouble.

And then Mr. Verdigris’ words reached his brain.

Greg stared from Mrs. Farina to Mr. Verdigris. And back. Something was horribly wrong. Mrs. Farina was his mother’s age. About. Maybe. Definitely not old enough to be Mr. Verdigris’ mother. Mr. Verdigris was old, they were almost the same age, weren’t they?

“Wait, she can’t possibly be your mother, aren’t you two the same age?” he asked, still looking between the two.

 

Lorcan was not going to lose it. No matter how much Vulk snickered at that.

Mom patted his hand gently. "Well, dear, your friend's a sweet one, but you can tell him flirting with me's not going to get him a discount."

"He is not my friend, mother."

"Now now, Lorcan," she said, with that look. It was a look of pure mischief. And she wondered where his siblings got it from. "Don't get surly in your old age."

"I am twenty-six!" And now he was losing it.

 

“But, but…”

Greg was twenty three. Mr. Verdigris, Lorcan, was only three years older than him. But his hair was old people style. And he was acting old.

“You can’t be only three years older than me.”

And after a beat, Greg became indignant. “And you can’t possibly blame this all on me. You can’t have that much more experience with magic.”

Forgetting, of course, that he didn’t want to talk about the incident where it could get back to his mother.

 

Lorcan scoffed. "I have enough experience to check a person's Etsy profile before asking them for an exorcism. And for your information, I make a living off my magic. I have since college. You can fit a lot into just three years. Trust me."

 

“If I had found you through the internet, yeah, that would be on me. But I came here, and asked about a necromancer, and got pointed to you. Clearly, you don’t get much work if people think you’re a necromancer instead of a time wizard. And it isn’t my fault you don’t double check to make sure you aren’t being given haunted objects to age. Seems like something you should check before doing anything if the results are going to be like this,” Greg said, trying to not completely lose his temper. Mrs. Farina probably wouldn't appreciate him really yelling at her son. Even if he deserved it.

 

"Oh dear," Lorcan's mom said, glancing between the two of them. "I had really thought you'd get along better than this. And Lorcan, you do have something of an image problem, maybe if you just got out a little more--"

"Mom."

"I'm just saying, honey, networking is an important part of building a brand. I know you hate hearing this, but back in my day we didn't have an Etsy and we almost never had these sorts of misunderstandings."

"What about dad?"

"Your father was a special case. And anyways, what's this about you not checking for ghosts first? That used to be your favorite thing whenever we brought in something new."

"Wha--when I was like, ten!"

His mother's eyes were wide and innocent. "And you're not to let yourself forget a lesson ten-year-old Lorcan knew by heart, are you? Since you're so much wiser and experienced now." She gave Greg a wink.

Dammit. Maybe this was a little bit his fault. "...no," he mumbled.

"Good. Now, let me guess--this haunted object is what brought you down here in the first place?" The look on his face must have been enough, because his mother added mournfully, "Oh, Lorcan, just once I wish you'd come down here to say hi."

"Sorry," he said, both for that and for whay he was about to ask. "I need to talk to Aunt Mercy."

"Absolutely not." Now he'd done it. Lorcan had no idea what exactly his aunt had done, or why his mother was so insistent he and her never meet. He had a few theories.

"Look, Mom, it's nothing bad, I swear. We just need someone to track down the ghost. The kid--" He stopped. "We let it out of our sight. We need to find it before it hurts someone, Mercy's the only scryer I know about."

"Lorcan, you know my position on this."

He didn't, not really, but that was a whole other conversation for a whole other place. One with far fewer onlookers. Lorcan gave a pleading look over to Greg. "Help?" he mouthed.

 

“Mrs. Farina, this is kind of an emergency, and we're kind of out of options. Leaving it alone for a long period of time would be a mistake. Who knows what kind of trouble the glittery abomination will get into,” Greg said, uncomfortable when Mrs. Farina’s gaze turned from Lorcan to him. Stupid dolls.

 

Lorcan's mother considered this. "Well, it certainly wouldn't do to have a ghost running amok," she said. Then: "I may have a solution. Just a moment."

-

Unlike her son, Farina Baker understood how to network. Every regular who frequented the shop was a talented crafter in their own way. Farina knew them all, and this particular regular's talent could be said to be...flashier than most.

"It'll be a little while longer on the curry, Aki," Farina said as she reached the table, "but I was wondering if you might be able to help my son with something." She gestured to where Lorcan was trying to brush the feathers off his vest. "He's in need of a scryer. Some sort of glitterbeast got loose? There's a ghost involved, but I thought it might be your cup of tea. I'd consider it a personal favor."

 

Aki thought mournfully of lamb curry, hot, flavorful, and the perfect antidote to still-damp socks, and sighed.
"A glitterbeast ghost? Sounds more interesting than the last three kindergarten teachers looking for lost toys."

She pushed away from the table, knowing deep down that it would be filled by the time she finished with this. Ah, well. Such was life.
"Which son is this one again? Vaughn?"

 

"Ah, no," Farina said. "Vaughn's messes tend to be a little more well-contained. This would be Lorcan, my younger son. Don't take anything he says personally, alright? He's a little...we'll call it 'shy'."

 

"I'll try not to," Aki said, privately wondering whether any child of Farina could be described as "shy."

 

When Lorcan's mother returned, it was with another customer around his and Greg's age. Lorcan couldn't help but roll his eyes--time for another round of speed friending, he supposed.

His mother gave him a look, then, "This is Aki, she's using she/her pronouns today. I was thinking she could help with your scrying issue. Aki is very talented. She works in glitter, mostly."

"I can see that," Lorcan said dryly. Aki had been here ten seconds and already sparkles coated the floor around her feet. That was going to be a bitch for Paola to clean.

"Hush. Aki, this is my second-youngest, Lorcan. He's a time mage, not a necromancer. That's his familiar, Vulk."

"I'm a lamp!" Vulk said from his spot on the counter.

"And this is Greg Cartwright, I believe?" she continued with a sly glance. "Does your mother know you've been getting up to trouble with my son?" Uh oh. Lorcan looked over at Greg. "Anyways, I'll leave you all to get yourselves acquainted. Food'll be out soon. Curry for Aki, and what would you like, Greg?"

"Do I not get food?" Lorcan asked.

"You'll eat what I make you," she informed him.

"Yes, ma'am."

 

Greg tore his eyes away from the lamp, Vulk, who spoke without a mouth to look at Mrs. Farina. His mother was going to find out about this, especially if Lorcan was Mrs. Farina’s son. Had he said anything extremely incriminating? Shit, he did. He mentioned glitter. Mrs. Farina had brought over a glitter wizard. That might be enough for his mother to put the pieces together about the ghost being related to Kitty's doll, and that would lead to the discovery of his unauthorized doll stealing. There was only one solution:

Damage control time.

“Well, she has been trying to get me to meet other crafters my age, so she can’t exactly complain about the company I’m in. And as long as we fix the ghost problem, then the trouble shouldn’t be a problem either,” Greg said, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at Mrs. Farina. “And, I’d like a caprese sandwich please. No tomatoes. And a cup of hot chocolate.”

With damage control attempted, Greg turned his eyes towards the glitter wizard, Aki. She seemed to be leaving glitter everywhere.

Greg knew one thing: Aki and Kitty must never, ever, meet.

 

Oh, god. "Very talented," Farina had said. Now there would be Expectations. Perfect.
Swallowing down a sudden rush of panic, Aki firmly reminded herself that Farina wouldn't have recommended her for the job if she didn't think she could handle it, and Farina saw enough magic users every day that she usually was a good judge.

"Hi Lorcan, Vulk, Greg," she said, extending her hand. Damn, she was shedding again. Must be the nerves. Calm down, she told herself. Getting off on the wrong foot would only make matters worse in the long run.

 

Lorcan looked at Aki's outstretched hand. Ha, yeah, that wasn't happening. Lorcan only had so many "professional" outfits, he could not get this one covered in glitter, thank you very much.

He crossed his arms. "These are my work clothes," he said, to explain. "So, Aki. You're a scryer, then? What did my mom tell you about our...situation?"

 

Ah. Right then. Aki slowly withdrew her hand, pretending that it was in a smooth and casual motion, but knowing deep down that it really wasn't. Maybe this wasn't the best time to inform Lorcan that he already had a few telltale glints in his scalp.

"I hear you have a glitterbeast that you need tracked down? Something about a ghost being involved too?"

 

“I may have brought a haunted glittery object to Lorcan under the false impression he was a necromancer and could deal with it and through miscommunication he made it more powerful and I may have accidentally sent it zooming straight that way at 70 miles per hour,” Greg said, indicating the direction the doll had gone while careful to avoid mentioning the word doll. At least while Mrs. Farina was watching.

 

Ah.Well. Hmmm.
That certainly explained a few things. Like the white streak in Lorcan's hair. Glitter normally wouldn't do that, but mixed with a ghost? Who knew.
"Okay! I should be able to help. Firstly, have you had any contact with anything else glittery today besides this object and myself? Secondly, can we find somewhere that I can spread out? Preferably somewhere we can all sit and look at the same area."

 

"Grab a table, then?" That seemed like the best solution, but--the place was packed. Even the counter seats only had a few spots open.

 

Greg looked around the busy place. There were a few places were it was clear people were just talking or lazing about, having finished eating. Maybe they could speed them up by sending Lorcan over. After all, he did have a bit of a reputation.

“Hey, Lorcan, go sit over there. They’re just hanging out, so if you go over there and sit down, your reputation will probably cause them to get up, and we’ll get a table,” Greg pointed to a table of people not eating.

And if the table he pointed at just so happened to be where his arch nemesis Melody Musić the air guitar mage was, well, that was just a bonus.

Melody was the reason Kitty had had the accident in the hardware store yesterday that destroyed his homework. This was petty revenge. Greg had no regrets. About this. No regrets about sicking Lorcan on his nemesis.