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 Home Improvment, jasper
Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 1 2009, 12:21 AM


SHOP, owner
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 715
Member No.: 61
Joined: 24-June 08



Atlas had waited as long as he was going to wait which was, as it turns out only 20 miuntes or so. Twenty minutes ago a shabby looking owl had arrived from the Ministry, a small note printed on green paper tied around it’s leg. The ministry made some of the oddest possible stationary choices. Official summons in red, cease and desist in mauve of all colors, and zoning permits in orange. Atlas had never seen green before and had spent a few minutes poking at the paper with his wand while he finished his toast and sausage for the morning. He had to eat and then get rid of any evidence of having eater before Jasper roused himself, it seemed to upset him greatly. Finally, unable to determine what the paper was just by looking at it he dragged it across the table and opened it.

Mr. Caedmon the Ministry of Magic has concluded its investigation of the events leading to the destruction of the business establishment designated SHOP in Diagon Alley. We are pleased to inform you that the area is now cleared for rebuilding efforts..... The rest of paltry legal jargon but he read the first sentence over a few times, becoming increasingly more excited each time the word “cleared” scanned across his retina. He stood quickly, moved through the house to the study and looked out the window at the mass that was his leveled home, it had stopped smoking several days ago and Jasper seemed to have been confident that the Ministry would be letting Atlas get to work soon...he had also promised to help.....but, Atlas looked at the clock 10:00 am.

10:00 AM and Monday, sometimes Monday was alright but last night Jasper had gone to a gig and then, from the sounds of needly heels on the floorboards, someone had come back with him. This meant no open shop, which meant a sleeping Jasper, which meant hours of waiting. He was adult, he was capable of patients, at least that was what he told himself. It worked for the first 15 minutes or so, he’d wandered the study, glanced over a few of Jasper’s books, made a paper angel out of some stray stationary paper and was about to go find Rudolph to give him a good shine when he read the green slip of paper over again. That had been a mistake.

Like a child eager to open Christmas presents but unable to do so without parent supervision, Atlas bounded up the stairs. He tripped at one point, banged his shin painfully but pressed on. The knob turned and gave way with little effort, meaning the model or the singer or the marginally attractive groupie was gone, they weren’t usually smart enough to relock the door. “Jasper!” He called as if there was a chance Jasper was anywhere but in his bed, with the curtains drawn against the assaulting sunlight coming into the room. “Jasper!” He took hold of the curtain pulling it aside to find Jasper, face down in the pillow, his head turned just enough so one narrowed eye could regard Atlas. He waved the paper at him. “It came! It’s cleared! Look, this one is green!”
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Jasper Christie
Posted: Dec 1 2009, 01:17 AM


Christie's Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 1,147
Member No.: 27
Joined: 18-May 08



Sometimes Jasper wondered if the Christies had a vampire ancestor buried somewhere in their confusing family tree. Not that he liked the taste of blood or anything, but his aversion to sunlight went well beyond the norm. When the curtains of his bed were flung back unceremoniously, it was all he could do to stop himself from recoiling violently. He settled for turning his head fractionally, just enough to see what foolish person had decided it would be wise to disturb him.

Atlas. That wasn't really surprising. He was the only person who hadn't learned that it wasn't okay to wake Jasper anytime before midafternoon if he'd been to a gig the night before. His first thought was, "how did he get in?" He'd asked the girl from last night--some McQueen model who'd woken him again by tottering out on the sky-high heels she'd blagged from a runway show-- to lock the door as she left, but he quickly spotted the silver gleam of the key on the bedside table, half obscured under his crumpled pocket square. Couldn't trust models. Or Atlas for that matter.

"Caedmon." He needed to work his way up to sentences with multiple words. Best to start by moving his mouth off the pillow. "Why?"

Atlas was waving a slip of paper at him giddily. Unless the paper was a proclamation that declared Jasper ruler of the universe, he wasn't interested. Atlas had been waking him up at absurd times since their days at Hogwarts for a plethora of reasons that were not at all interesting to Jasper; horticulture, jazz music, a dead squirrel. No amount of threats or shouting seemed to deter him from perpetuating the tragically flawed belief that Jasper could display any emotion besides rage when woken before noon.

"What cleared? Why are you here?" He rummaged through the rest of the debris on the table-- empty champagne glass, wallet, what appeared to be one of McQueen girl's knee high stockings-- and eventually found his watch and brandished it at Atlas. "What time does this represent? It's not familiar to me."
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Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 1 2009, 01:49 AM


SHOP, owner
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 715
Member No.: 61
Joined: 24-June 08



The eye blinked at him, iris contracting when a Atlas shifted and a beam of light lanced into the space between his arm pit and his chest. Jasper was not a morning person, he wasn't even a mid morning or a brunch person but there were some advantages to rousing him before his self appointed waking time. Namely he was a bit sluggish and had to work a bit to rouse anger, stocking the fires usually took him a few minutes, sometimes Atlas managed to say everything he wanted to and make his retreat in that amount of time. There should be no need for that though, not once he made Jasper understand.

Caedmon It was hard to determine if Jasper had said his name, muffled as it was into the pillow but the scorn reached his eyes and Atlas made an educated guess. It had either been a curse or his name, either way, Jasper recognized it was him. Vocal ability came first in Jasper's start up process, mobility would be next. As if on cue one of Jasper's arms unfurled itself at the same time the tendons in his neck tightened to turn his head. Now both eyes were making a show of glaring at him, mostly they just looked bleary. Why? Still working on it but it was a full sentence. What cleared? Why are you here?

Atlas fanned the paper at him, some of the hair across Jasper's face moved with the wind, he still didn't look excited. The arm that had unfurled was done warming up because now it was snaking over to the bedside table. Atlas rocked back on his heels, Jasper had a rather good backhand at his disposal and Atlas was in far too good a mood to meet with it. Instead though Jasper's hand wandered aimlessly over the assorted contents of the table, landing here and there like a child's claw game until he found the prize he wanted. The clock disappeared into Jasper's fist and a moment later was being trust in Atlas' direction. What time does this represent? It's not familiar to me.

"Would you like me to explain it in by the Mayan calendar or....?" There was the hand, luckily motor skills were at a minimum and Atlas was able to avoid the swipe aimed squarely at his head. "It's 10:37, AM, but that doesn't matter, Look!" He thrust the paper at Jasper again before folding himself into a sitting position on the floor next to the bed. "It says they investigation is over, I can start rebuilding, you said you'd help remember? I can stop living in the guest room and you can start having all the models you want, no worries about Rudolph and your hair or them forgetting to lock your door. Which really Jasper is a matter of safety, surely they can't be so daft to not realize it...." He hadn't been breathing and needed to stop and heave a few in before continuing. "Well? Brilliant! Yea?"

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Jasper Christie
Posted: Dec 1 2009, 04:29 PM


Christie's Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 1,147
Member No.: 27
Joined: 18-May 08



They'd been friends too long; Atlas had learned how to anticipate and dodge Jasper's various responses to being rudely awoken with alarming accuracy. He was going to have to develop some new tactics. The paper was still fluttering near him, and he briefly considered just quietly lighting a corner of it on fire. Sadly both his wand and lighter were still in his jacket, tossed over a chair in the far corner of the room.

"It's 10:37, AM, but that doesn't matter, Look!"

10:37 AM was of supreme importance, as it wasn't a time that applied to Jasper. Considering the fact that they'd lived together for over seven years if you counted the past month or so along with Hogwarts, Atlas often failed to grasp very basic tenets about Jasper. The fact that he wasn't a morning person, that he didn't consider things with a fruit garnish real drinks, that he would never, ever wear a plaid with more than two colors. For many years, Jasper had pointed out these errors each time they cropped up, but he'd gotten more selective when he noticed that there wasn't any marked improvement in Atlas' understanding. It was too early to put forth the effort now, so he just watched, one eyebrow skeptically raised, as Atlas settled onto the floor next to his bed, presumably to be more comfortable when he said more things that Jasper wasn't interested in.

"It says they investigation is over, I can start rebuilding, you said you'd help remember? I can stop living in the guest room and you can start having all the models you want, no worries about Rudolph and your hair or them forgetting to lock your door. Which really Jasper is a matter of safety, surely they can't be so daft to not realize it...."

Jasper had stopped listening right around "I can stop living in the guest room" because he could work out the benefits for himself. He would no longer have to sacrifice part of his important vodka-chilling space in the fridge for Atlas' inexplicably enormous supply of pineapple, he wouldn't keep finding bits of Rudolph's extremities wedged into the cushions of the couch, he could stop wondering if Atlas would be lurking, waiting to offer pie, when he brought models home. Essentially, life could finally go back to normal. Not that he resented Atlas for staying with him; considering what had happened, he couldn't have turned him away. But it would be nice for the house to be quiet again. And to not wake up with pin curls. That was almost enough to make him want to get out of bed.

"Well? Brilliant! Yea?" The top of Atlas' head bobbed up from beyond the edge of the mattress.

"Sure, yeah." He sighed and turned over, staring at the canopy of the bed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy for you mate. It's just..." He pronounced the foreign words carefully, distastefully. "It's ten thirty seven."

Atlas' hair popped into his peripheral vision and he waved a hand impatiently. "All right. I'll be down in twenty minutes. Make coffee. If there's not coffee when I appear, I'm going back to bed."

Eleven thirty seven saw the pair of them surveying the rubble of SHOP, Jasper with a second cup of espresso in hand. Rudolph was somewhere in the back garden, trying to rig Pinkie Pie up with a cart so she could help. Jasper had been unable to convince the skeleton that Pinkie had neither the motivation nor joint mobility for the task.

"Right." He took a step back as the winer wind puffed up a small swirl of ash close to his shoes. Jasper had spent more time at the site initially and had some ideas about the best logistics for rebuilding, but he didn't want to encroach. "How are you planning on doing this?"
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Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 1 2009, 11:50 PM


SHOP, owner
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 715
Member No.: 61
Joined: 24-June 08



A terrible, laborious, caffeine infused hour laster the two of them were standing on the edge of the crater that had been Atlas’ home. Even though he had carefully observed Jasper’s routine for years Atlas still had no idea why it took the other man so long to be ready to do things. It seemed simple, get up, shave, put something on body to mask it from prying eyes/the elements/and any lurking communist sympathizers, brush teeth, maybe comb hair, eat breakfast and things were ready to you. All of this should have taken maybe 20 minutes top and that was with Atlas subtracting time for eating (Jasper had laughed at the notion of ingesting calories at the best of times, it wasn’t going to happen before noon) and adding time for a morning shower, if you were that sort of person.

Yet Jasper managed to somehow turn the routine into a venture lasting closer to 45 minutes and Atlas knew from the way he grumbled and kept fixing his cuffs that even that had seemed like far too little time. Fortified with coffee but still looking a bit like he had just come out of a hypnotic haze Jasper’s eyes roved over the structure of SHOP. Right. A gust of cold wind blew whipping Atlas’ coat around his ankles he didn’t even feel the cold. How are you planning on doing this?

Atlas crouched, eyeing the structure from a different view point and truly not seeing much difference. Raising both hands he set the points of his thumb together to make a frame, thats what people always did in the films and yet...it really did nothing. He could clearly make out several of the support beams, one of which was cracked and bent in half, that would have been the main blast point. Something glinty near him caught his eye and, still crouching, he inched over and nudged some debris out of the way. Lifting it free he realized what it was, a mirror scale, used to make armor hunted off some creature or another in the Baltic's, and it appeared undamaged. Most of the main debris had been carted away by the Ministry, placed somewhere to be sifted through later, but apparently they’d missed a few things. Where was Rudolph with that cart?

“I thought....” he stood up, wiping one hand on his coat while pocketing the scale with the other, he refused to allow this to be overwhelming. “First we need to clear the rest of this......where did I.....” He pulled out his wand and flicked it at the rubble, “Accio storage cabinet.” Something toward the middle of the ruins creaked, he flicked his wand again, concentrating and apply a little bit more force. A large rounded object strongly resembling an ottoman came rumbling out toward them, landing with a thud between the two of them. Jasper raised an eyebrow at it and took another sip of his coffee. Setting his wand between his thumb and forefinger Atlas ran his fingers along the top of the ottoman, tripping a few of the lock runes and stepping back as the top sprung open.

“This leads to one of my grandfathers storage warehouses...Figured if you could move some of the larger pieces, transfigure them into materials.. Looks like theres a good deal the Ministry didn’t pick up....” He glanced back at Jasper. “Thanks for that. Once the area is cleared I had a few plans I was thinking of applying. I can use builders for that, its getting all this stuff cleared and sorted thats important, we might be able to salvage some of it.” Rolling up one sleeve Atlas took a tentative step into the rebris, seemed stable. “Just, be careful....” Turning back to Jasper he produced a small butterfly net, transfigured it back to normal size and offered it, “Just in case we find the wig.”
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Jasper Christie
Posted: Dec 2 2009, 01:45 AM


Christie's Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 1,147
Member No.: 27
Joined: 18-May 08



Atlas was sifting through the dunes of ash and rubble that had once been SHOP. He was much more calm about it than Jasper would have been in the same situation. Maybe it was how hard he'd worked to buy his shop, or just his insane materialism, but he would have been devastated. He wasn't really sure how Atlas felt about SHOP. It was his home, obviously, and he'd invested a lot of time in it, but it had been a gift from his father. From the very scanty mentions that Atlas had made, his relationship with the man was incredibly distant at best. He doubted that his friend's love of SHOP had anything to do with familial sentimentality.

That said, Atlas was much more attached to the things in his shop than Jasper. He loved them in a personal, almost human way that Jasper reserved for his best suits. He wasn't sure where Atlas was going to get another Martian polar fern, but he suspected that he was rather broken up about its loss. At the moment, though, it seemed Atlas had managed to salvage something. He stood, holding a mirror, and Accioed a manky looking ottoman, prodding it open.

“This leads to one of my grandfathers storage warehouses...

Jasper did not want to know how. He took a precautionary step back, just in case the warehouse was in an alternate dimension. You had to worry about these kinds of things with Atlas. He kept an eye on the thing as he listened to Atlas' plans for SHOP, just in case something snaked out and grabbed him by the leg.

The requests were, for Atlas, fairly straightforward. Jasper didn't mind a bit of transfiguration in the morning; he often made new jewelry after he woke up, before he opened the shop for the day. It felt like a magical warmup.

“Just, be careful....” Atlas started to climb into the debris then turned back and offered Jasper something. A net? Jasper looked between it and the other man in confusion. “Just in case we find the wig.”

Oh, God. Jasper had forgotten that things might have survived the fire. He knew, from repeated extermination attempts, that the lobster bandits were like an hyper-virulent strain of cockroaches. The moose head...Jasper didn't even want to think about finding that. But the wig topped them both. It was so mobile and stealthy and lice ridden. Jasper gripped his wand more tightly and set off.

Step one. He found a lump of something that looked like fabric and transfigured it into an armchair, which he collapsed into sideways, legs hooked over one arm. Spotted a likely looking timber and summoned it, then transfigured it into a new beam. It was pleasantly challenging to work with something other than jewels; he actually had to think about how he was reconfiguring things on a minute level. After a few more boards he started to experiment with different types of wood. He wasn't sure how Atlas would feel about oak floors, but he was getting them. And something made of mahogany.

A sizable stack of material was growing next to his chair when he caught something moving suspiciously in the corner of his eye. Not Atlas; he was visible in the far corner of SHOP's foundation. He stiffened and sat up, drawing his feet in on the cushion.

It was the wig.

Jasper raised his wand and the net. He put the net down again, that was just idiotic. If he shouted to Atlas it would attract attention and the thing would come right at him. He turned his wand very slowly and sent a charm across to tap Atlas on the shoulder. The other man wheeled around in surprise and Jasper raised a finger to his lips, tilting his head sideways at the wig. This was going to have to be a joint effort.
up!
Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 2 2009, 04:54 PM


SHOP, owner
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 715
Member No.: 61
Joined: 24-June 08



Going was slow and slightly treacherous as Atlas tried to work his way from one corner of the perimeter to another. In retrospect it would have been a good idea to bring along some spelunking equipment, or at least a few tow ropes. Normally such a request with Jasper would be met with a rolling of the eyes and possibly a dismissal from his presence but Atlas knew he had some. When Jasper had purchased the place that was now his home the boys club had found various crawl spaces and hidden nooks all through the house. Many of them were also occupied; some by cats (a few of which were more feral than others), some by expired can goods, and one by a mannequin wearing a wedding dress.

Jasper hadn’t been willing to go into them, he had his suits to worry about. Atlas was far too large, and Apollo would have found something shiny and never been heard from again. That had left Wendell and Will, and after that just Will. They’d made a few concessions to the danger he was being placed in, purchasing and rigging the same sort of rigging people used to climb everest, in case they fell off the edge. Jasper still had to have it somewhere and as Atlas mentally attempted to trace just where the basement might have been. Falling through the rumble would have really made for an unpleasant way to kick all this off. Another creak and Atlas took a few hasty steps toward the edge.

He could hear boards shifting behind him, and glanced back to see Jasper lounging as he worked. Fitting. A decrepit looking vine was curled out from the wreak, it looked like it had tried to crawl out. Atlas wondered how Jasper would feel about a token viking funeral. He was about to turn around and ask when something tapped him on the shoulder. Turning nearly knocked him off balance and when no one was there he glared up to find Jasper, eyes wide, a finger pressed insistently to his mouth as he nodded toward.......The w....oh god

He saw it, scuttling along a few yards from Jasper, it must not have noticed him. Reaching into his pocket Atlas pulled out a pair of opera glasses, holding them up just to confirm. Yup it was the wig. It looked a bit less full than it had last time, and the former jet black was run through with grays. Atlas could sympathize, it wasn’t easy being blown up. Maybe Apollo would be willing to do something about that...first though they’d need to catch it. Lowering the glasses he mouthed “stay put” to Jasper who looked as if he had no other plan. Apparating was out of the question...but maybe Atlas could maneuver behind it or....his foot slipped on the shoddy footing and on leg fell through the pile he’d been standing on.

The wig perked, its bangs fanning and then it was off, coming at him. “Jasper! Distract it...find some vodka!” He yanked his leg free, “Accio Hairspray!” He knew he didn’t have any but maybe the spell would extend far enough to get to the Sinistra’s bathroom, he’d apologize later.

up!
Jasper Christie
Posted: Dec 3 2009, 02:13 AM


Christie's Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 1,147
Member No.: 27
Joined: 18-May 08



Stay put. As though Jasper needed that helpful hint. Really Atlas? I'd been planning on doing a jig in Apollo's new sequin poncho. Thanks for clarifying. Jasper made sure his feet and other extremities were well within the boundaries of the chair then tried to be very still while gradually aiming his wand at the wig.

The thing had seen better days; it was going to need some serious grooming before Atlas was ready for Sergei duty again. Not only had it greyed, but there were a variety of interesting objects matted in it. Jasper was able to spot a corkscrew, what looked like a garland comprised of shiny metallic Easter bunnies and part of a chicken leg. The wig was kind of like those Muggle I-Spy books that he remembered from Will's house, lingering on his childhood bookshelf. He was trying to determine if the large thing near the left corner of the bangs was a Duran Duran record when there was a startling crack and Atlas dropped from view. The wig reeled around, moving with alarming speed.

“Jasper! Distract it...find some vodka!” Atlas lurched in the rubble.

At least it was an easy request to fill. A quick spell brought a large bottle from his fridge and he tossed the rubbish net aside to brandish it more effectively. He uncapped it and fanned it across the ash, hoping the scent would draw the wig away from Atlas while he regrouped.

"Hey! Over here!" More vodka splashed across the remains of SHOP, making dark spots in the dust,and the wig turned. The original pressing of Hungry Like the Wolf glinted in the sun. How appropriate, Jasper thought bitterly as it charged him. He jumped up, standing on the cushion of the chair and balancing as it rocked precariously on the unsteady foundation of broken boards.

One eye on the wig as he flung more vodka, he caught a glimpse of something bright yellow on the street side of SHOP. A quick glance proved that it was Daphne, her dress practically a beacon for savage headwear. She was nearly out of hearing distance but Jasper heard something indistinct about 'brownies' and 'bring them over in a second.' S--t.

"Daphne no! Go back inside! Atlas and I will--come over for them later!"

When he turned back, the wig was barely three feet from his chair. F--k. F--k. Atlas was struggling across the debris, trying to find a safe path on the joists above the foundation. In desperation, he hurled the bottle of vodka onto the remains of Atlas' kitchen counter, where it smashed. The wig turned and lunged for it, slurping greedily, but most of the vodka was absorbed in the ash and it wheeled back toward Jasper. Atlas was was only halfway across.

"Accio vodka!" Another bottle appeared in his hands, but it had come from the freezer and the cap was crusted with frost. F--k. Luckily the chair he'd transfigured had wooden trim, so he cracked the neck of the bottle and tossed it, breathing a sigh of relief when the wig followed.

"Did you get the hairspray?" He didn't dare take his eyes off the wig again to see for himself, but he hoped so. The stuff was like a taser for wigs. "Hurry up, I refuse to give it anything nicer than Stoli."
up!
Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 3 2009, 02:08 PM


SHOP, owner
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 715
Member No.: 61
Joined: 24-June 08




This was so very thematically typical, Atlas thought as he wrench his leg again to no avail. He’d seen this sort of situation a dozen different times, the creature bearing toward the idiot with his leg caught in the mud, the space between two rocks, a bear trap, the door to some ancient temple, street grating, or if you were a special kind of idiot, the floor of your own house. It wasn’t completely the same though, Atlas thought as he tried again, this time feeling the boards give a bit; it was usually a bear or a dinosaur that was coming at you jaws gaping, not a wig.

Hey! Over here! And there was the cynical mathematician waving a flare, Atlas looked up to see Jasper, now standing precariously on the arm chair, one leg on the cushions the other propped on one of the arms. In stead of a flare he was holding a bottle of vodka aloof, waving it and splashing it in a ring around himself, like a protection circle. Squinting Atlas could see it was Grey Goose, he wondered if Jasper had meant to do that or if the spell had selected a bottle at random. If it was intentional it showed a touching amount of commitment to Atlas’ struggle. The wind blew carrying the scent and the wig routed, turning and bee lining back to Jasper.

Having hand enough Atlas aimed his wand silently breaking down one of boards before hurrying after the wig. Where the hell was that hair spray? He sincerely hoped that Apollo didn’t have it locked up somewhere, along with his limited editions sequins and one of David Bowie’s codpieces from Labyrinth. The thing was spell tight and impossible to get into, Atlas had tried and been rewarding my being doused in liquid glitter. It had taken him three weeks to get all of it off…..

Go back inside! For a moment he was almost offended, technically he was inside and it seemed poor sporting on Jasper’s part to joke at a time like this. Then he saw the flash of blaring brightness accompanied by a slight smell of vanilla that could only indicate Daphne. Wonderful, spectators. Nothing he could do from over here…he kept pressing over back toward Jasper. He tripped on something and looked down to recognize the gnome javelin he’d picked up in South Africa, he wrenched it free, looked largely undamaged….

He made it to Jasper huffing and had to look around to see the wig sticking itself halfway into the vodka bottle, Did you get the hairspray? Hurry up, I refuse to give it anything nicer than Stoli.

Atlas pulled up his mental index of Jasper’s vodka selections, it was sort of like a personal relationship mood stone. “It won’t drink anything below sky…..” Jasper glared at him from the armchair and Atlas shrugged. “It has taste, it’s not my fault. I tried to wean him!” A strange little pop went off and both of them looked over to see the wig disentangling itself from the bottle. It shook itself out like a dog.

“Here.” Atlas shoved the javelin at Jasper. “Hairspray hasn’t come yet…you don’t think Apollo has it locked up somewhere do you?” Hastily he raised his wand, trying to think of what a Russian wig would hate the most….he just hoped it had survived. It seemed likely, its moniker had survived everything else. He flicked his wand and true to theory a large wax replica of one Rasputin physician to the Czar rose up from the rubble. The wig turned at the sound made a low noise and then was off running. “That should give us a miunte……”
up!
Jasper Christie
Posted: Dec 3 2009, 10:24 PM


Christie's Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 1,147
Member No.: 27
Joined: 18-May 08



“Here.”

Atlas thrust something covered in ash at Jasper. It looked like a toothpick. He had sincere doubts about its effectiveness in fighting off a rabid wig, since it didn't even look like it could hold a small olive for his next martini. He tossed it aside, ignoring Atlas' offended huff. After fifteen years he was used to Atlas giving him things he didn't want. Mangos with rudimentary ears, spinach cake, advice about girls. The wig was coming at them again.

“Hairspray hasn’t come yet…you don’t think Apollo has it locked up somewhere do you?”

Jasper tried to think where Apollo kept his hair products. The best answer he could come up with was 'everywhere.' The Sinistra's house was like a salon gone horribly awry, shampoo bottles and pomades all but leaping at you from the furniture. He remembered one horrible evening when he'd fallen asleep after a party and woken up with a quiff like La Roux. He realized the motherlode was probably in Apollo's bathroom. The spell might have gotten confused and dwindled with so many options.

The wig was currently attacking a statue of a man with a straggly beard. Jasper had no idea what was going on except that said statue was quickly dissolving into tiny shards of wax. He could see himself suffering the same fate if they didn't act quickly. The fact that he wasn't made of wax wouldn't deter the wig at all.

"Try to imagine something more specific! Keep Accioing until we get hairspray!"

He flicked his wand and the first thing that arrived in his hand was avocado deep-conditioner. Useless, it would only give the wig the necessary nutrients to attack them more viciously. Another flick brought hot rollers. Good in close contact fighting, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that. He was about to test out the whole "third time's the charm" theory when he happened to look over at Atlas, who was brandishing a large blue bottle at the approaching wig.

"No! Atlas!" His friend's finger was about to depress the top of the can. "Not Root Boost! That will only give it more strength by adding volume and shine!"
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Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 4 2009, 12:20 AM


SHOP, owner
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Group: Business Owner
Posts: 715
Member No.: 61
Joined: 24-June 08



The woman who had sold him his Waxsputin, was tiny witch with a large rounded face and a thick accent. Now he could have heard wrong, it was hard enough to understand people with tenuous grips on language but when that was combined with a severe lack of teeth it just got ludicrous. So he could have heard wrong but he was almost certain that the woman had promised him that the core of the Waxsputin was composed on the same materials used to build the first moon rockets. As he watched the wig making quick work of the figure he had a distinct feeling that he might have been lied to somewhere along the line.

That, or he was witnessing first hand the reasons why the Americans beat the Russians to the moon. The figures head slid off and fell, stopping when it became impaled on an upwards-facing shaft of metal. Atlas flinched. He looked at Jasper, who was momentarily silent before barking an order, Try to imagine something more specific! Keep Accioing until we get hairspray!

Seemed logical enough, Atlas flicked his wand, thinking hairspray as hard as he could, something with blue and yellow labeling, flew into his hand. Holding it at eye level he turned the canister in his hand, scanning the words along it until he found, “for use with unmanageable hair” right under the picture of a very unhappy yak. Bingo. Adjusting the bottle he strode toward the wig just as Rasputin lost his last leg, so much for being unkillable.

His finger was hovering over the dispenser trigger when he heard the squeak and then evening out of Jasper’s voice as he shouted, NO! Atlas! Not root boost! That will only give it more strength by adding volume and shine!

Atlas blinked and then turned around, looking at Jasper squarely. “You do know Apollo just came out of your mouth, don’t you? And what do you mean root boost? It comes in a can how could it possible make things….” The sentence was rendered unimportant when the wig barreled into the back his leg. The right was fine enough but the left hadn’t quiet gotten over being broken into several dozen tiny bits and so inconveniently decided to buckle.

The can spun out of his hand, skidding across the pavement between him and Jasper, the wig must have heard their conversation because a moment later it was going after it. Atlas knew he shouldn’t have taught it to understand English. Hastily he rolled over, aiming first at Jasper and casting a quick shield charm then at the can. “Firara!” He watched the fire spell curl the label before the aerosol exploded sending bits of aluminum everywhere, the wig baulked, scuttling under something. Atlas rolled and pushed himself to his feet. “Did you see where it went? Did it get any on it? What the hell is root boost?”
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Jasper Christie
Posted: Dec 4 2009, 03:38 PM


Christie's Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards
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"You put it on the base of your hair and--"

Since their time at Hogwarts, Jasper had tried to explain many things to Atlas. How to match your socks to your pants, why Mervin could not possibly be a Communist spy, how to talk to women. Every case had been a resounding failure. Once he glanced at Atlas' haircut, which could be best described as "utilitarian," he didn't really see how Root Boost would be any different.

"Never mind, it's not important. Hopefully it was all consumed in the flames, otherwise we've given the thing a major advantage."

He realized he was still perched on the chair like Napoleon commanding the imperial army and sat down again cautiously. The wig had made a temporary retreat, probably looking for a cat to eat to regain some strength. Jasper kept his wand poised in his hand just in case. The scent of singed hair lingered in the air around them.

"Right, so--" He nodded at the sizable pile of wood next to his chair. "I've started with that, what else--"

Something click and scuttled underneath Jasper's chair and he was quickly on his feet again, balancing on the cushion. It wasn't a familiar sound from the wig, but the thing might have adapted under adverse conditions. There was a brief silence, so he knelt on the edge of the chair and used his cigarette case as a mirror to peer underneath. Familiar claws and sombrero.

"Stupefy!" He bounced the spell off the back of the case. There was a brief, muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like "Ay! Caramba!" then silence. "Accio lobster."

A frozen lobster bandit appeared in his hand, and he quickly levitated it a safe distance from himself and Atlas before finding the discarded net and dropping it inside. He handed it to his friend and sighed. They were migrating back at the first sign of life. Or Arty had finally found a successful extermination method, in which case he really needed to congratulate her.

"You know Atlas, the more I remember the things that were inside SHOP, the more doubts I have about its reconstruction."
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Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 7 2009, 01:13 AM


SHOP, owner
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Jasper’s hands went into his hair, like he was playing a horribly obvious game of charades. You put it on the base of your hair and…… Atlas’ eyes must have taken on that mildy interested ‘could be listening to you’ or ‘could be doing my taxes in my head’ look because Jasper stopped talking. His hands were still in his hair, fingers running along his roots as if he was checking each strand to make sure it had been boosted properly. Atlas was just happy his was dry, he hated those mini icicles that sometimes formed in it…..Never mind, it’s not important. Hopefully it was all consumed in the flames, otherwise we’ve given the thing a major advantage.

He looked to where it had disapeered to and felt vaguely bad. He hoped it hadn’t been hurt, the poor thing looked worse enough for wear. “It’s probably just scared…I trained it to respond to Russian folk music…but it won’t come unless I have a mandolin perfectly tuned...” Jasper blinked at him. “It’s not important.” Atlas said a moment later, rubbing at the back of his neck subconsciously.

Jasper was coming down from his perch, scanning the area with his wand raised as if he’d be able to do anything with it if the wig went for him. He looked a bit like some animals you saw in shows about the rain forest. The parrots who could climb but not fly who graced the forest floors with their magnificent plumage only rarely and only when they felt it was safe. Right so… Said little Napoleon as if he hadn’t just been taking refuge on a high backed executive chair. I’ve started with that, what else….

As fast as he had been down, Jasper was back up, positioned awkwardly on the seat , his butt in the air while his face and hands positioned themselves to see under the chair. Atlas readied his wand but Jasper, in a rare show of gumption beat him to it. Stupefy! and then Accio lobster. Atlas didn’t expect it to appear in Jasper hand and a moment later there it was. Little vest still in place, legs frozen in the air, one pistol drawn and ready. Jasper looked at it disdainfully and then disposed of it in the butterfly net before handing it off to Atlas.

You know Atlas, the more I remember the things that were inside SHOP, the more doubts I have about its reconstruction.

He was barely listening, cradling the lobster he scrambled back into he rubble producing a few bits and pieces and flinging them back out, finally turning and aiming his wand. A small puff and a few wand movements later and he had produced a lobster hutch. Delicately he placed the bandit inside, removing its tiny pistol before releasing the spell. “ARRIBA!” It shouted, jumping up and down. Atlas couldn’t stop smiling. “Isn’t he beautiful Jasper?”

Jasper didn’t look as if he shared Atlas’ enthusiasm. “I don’t think everything in SHOP will have been as lucky. Honestly I didn’t expect to find much….there are only a few things that are absolutely needed…..” He looked over the rubble. “Most of it will just have to be cleared, if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life sifting through it.” Reaching down he ran a finger over the lobsters back, drew his hand away when it turned its claws on him. Still smiling. “We need to find my safe, won’t respond to accios, and the ingredients cabinet, the small one from the back left of store. Should be about 7 vials of unicorn blood in it, a few earth tortoise shell fragments, vampire fangs….I’ll need to find buyers for most of it to get up rebuilding funds.”

This was beginning to seem a bit more overwhelming than he had thought. “And it would be nice to find my school trunk.”
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Jasper Christie
Posted: Dec 24 2009, 02:22 PM


Christie's Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards
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Atlas practically cuddled the lobster bandit when Jasper handed it over, his face splitting in a grin usually reserved for extras in horror films about insane asylums. He stared in a way that hopefully communicated his disapproval, and Atlas put the lobster--now inside a hutch that looked suspiciously like a pueblo-- aside.

“Most of it will just have to be cleared, if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life sifting through it.”

That was a surprisingly positive attitude. Jasper had been concerned that Atlas would take the opposite approach and want to sift through every drift of ash in hopes of finding something worth keeping. He loved everything in SHOP much more personally than Jasper did the things in his home (aside from his clothes). He'd steeled himself for spending weeks out here, knowing he'd be unable to say no if Atlas asked.

“We need to find my safe, won’t respond to accios, and the ingredients cabinet, the small one from the back left of store. Should be about 7 vials of unicorn blood in it, a few earth tortoise shell fragments, vampire fangs….I’ll need to find buyers for most of it to get up rebuilding funds. And it would be nice to find my school trunk.”

Atlas looked a bit overwhelmed now. Jasper hadn't considered the problem of funding the construction; it wasn't something that would have been a problem for him. He settled cross-legged into the chair to think. Obviously he would loan Atlas the money, but he was sure his friend would never ask. Memories of the school trunk confirmed that. He remembered their first day at Hogwarts, Atlas' eyes going nervously from his own single trunk to the stack of monogrammed luggage at the foot of Jasper's bed. He knew that the economic differences between them had made Atlas uncomfortable early in their friendship; he was nervous that it lingered now.

"Maybe we could try a metal detection spell for the safe--what part of the house was it in? Would the trunk respond to accios?" He stopped and looked pointedly across the rubble, back toward his own house. Better to avoid eye contact before the next sentence, so that Atlas could turn him down or accept with minimal embarrassment. "I'll loan you the money for-- or just give it to you, if you'll take it. You know I just counterfeit the muggle stuff anyway, mate."
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Atlas Caedmon
Posted: Dec 24 2009, 04:15 PM


SHOP, owner
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Atlas looked out over the rumble, a king surveying his court after a particularly disastrous coup. He’d always sort of suspected that it would eventually come to this but he’d always thought that it would be the moose to start it. It had been stirring up dissent in the SHOP for years, trying to draw the lobsters to it’s side, first it would conquer SHOP then the world, or so it claimed. Atlas had never paid it much mind, yes it was charismatic and yes it did, on occasion, manage to sway people to it’s side of radical libertarianism; at the end of the day though it was still a dismembered moose head, hanging on a wall. The bull-winkle voice wasn’t going to win it many followers either. If it wasn’t going to be the moose stirring up trouble culminating in an explosion it would have been the parrot, or the arcade version of frogger that had the gremlins living in it, or at least something he’d done.

Veela terrorist had never been high on the list, or on it at all actually, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t been prepared. Anything of true sentimental value was set to a latent port key location. If the structure of the house became overly compromised, temperatures rose or dropped below a certain level, or there was too much moisture in the area they activated and transported out. Most photographs, the stuffed dragon that had been his first toy, all would have been safe but there were so many things he’d just never gotten around to. Had to cut the looses though, he could take the stress of going through all this, moving boards and finding the remains of one thing or another that he’d found precious, that would inevitably remind him of something else. Just had to find the important things, and then clear the area. He glanced to where the wig had vanished to...he’d have to re domesticate it. That would take some time.

He looked away, turning back to Jasper who was seated on the arm chair, looking very much like a Lord. Looking over things imperiously. Maybe we could try a metal detection spell for the safe--- what part of the house was it in? Would the trunk respond to accios? Atlas tapped a finger to his nose while he considered the question. I’ll loan you the money for-- he stopped tapping, neck slowly turning back to look at Jasper, who was obviously not looking at him. or just give it to you, if you’ll take it. You know I just counterfeit the muggle stuff anyway, mate. The last comment no doubt meant to cushion the statement, try to make light of things.

He swallowed uncomfortably, replaying what he had said to Jasper, hoping that he hadn’t construed it as some attempt on Atlas’ part to get him to make that offer. He’d never taken money from Jasper before, been resolute in that fact. When he’d been sorted first year, entered his dorm room and saw Jasper’s trunks and everything in them, well he hadn’t had to wait for the letter from his grandfather telling him about the Christie’s to know the differences between their two families. Differences he’d been slow to forget. “The safe was in the library, somewhere overt there.” he pointed, looking away from Jasper. “Trunk should respond, so long as there wasn’t too much damage to it. Pretty solid though...” He glanced back at Jasper, who raised his eyebrows at him, ok, he’d have to acknowledge the offer. Thought about the probability of the ingredients cabinet having survived.

“Jasper,” the eyebrows went a bit higher. “You should counterfeit so much, flood the economy, leads to inflation...” Jasper’s eyes rolled, but he didn’t look agitated. Atlas had tried to explain muggle economics once, the summer of the 5th year, the time when Atlas had spent the hottest months of the summer sitting in a muggle classroom, learning the ins and outs of their silly system. He’d gone to visit Jasper and tried to relay what he’d learned, only to be interrupted soon after with Jasper telling him that he’d love to listen to a lecture about supply and demand but there was a gig that Atlas had to see. It hadn’t really come up again. “Galleons.” He said finally, looking at Jasper. “I’ll take a loan in galleons, on paper, legal and with some sort of payment plan. It means a...” He shrugged. “Take me years to recoup building funds without it...and the loans from Gringotts have horrific interest rates.”

Looking back at the rubble he tried accioing the trunk, heard a dull thud and then a cloud of smoke rose up into the air. Aiming with a bit more focus he tried again, the trunk burst free of whatever it had been trapped under and came hurling toward the two of them. He let the spell go a few feet from them and momentum carried the trunk the rest of the way, skidding to a stop at their feet. It was blackened but looked more or less whole. “Your father still does notary loans doesn’t he?” Popping the trunk open, he sifted through old graded essay, a few photographs, a bottle of what looked like glitter, and....”Found your tie Jasper.” The Raven Claw colors shined in the sun, but the tie seemed a bit smaller than it used to. He offered it to Jasper.
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