Homoween 2019: Hollywood Coven

Day 9: Warlock Stock and Barrel

Compared to the Strip, the rest of Vegas inside of the suburbs seemed harsh and divey to Luke. He understood it- it was a tourist heavy town but in Europe, even the tourist heavy towns had charm outside of the tourist areas. 

Or maybe it was this pawn shop specifically.

The guy running it was part troll. And if he wasn't, he was probably lying to himself. Of course, you didn't want to say something like that necessarily out loud because trolls not only had a temper but a mean right hook that sometimes even a vampire couldn't dodge. 

Derek had gone back to see the pirates again, but Luke wasn't sure that it was more than camaraderie. He was waiting for the day when Derek brought them back to the room for a well-oiled orgy.  Which he wouldn't protest, distracting though it might be.

"How much for this ring?"

The counter needed to be windexed quite desperately. But Luke knew the game and knew he had to play it. Especially outside of his home turf.

"Three thousand." Grunt.

"Quite good condition."

"I don't see things that are otherwise-" Grunt and glare.

"I'm not sure about it."

"Then there's the door."

"Well, no. It's just- I might be seeking something slightly more- discerning, you say. I am a man of particular interests and talents."

"We both know you're not a man."

"Physically I am."

"Not talking physical." Grunt. "What do you want vampire?"

"I want access to the Literariat of this area."

"Ain't gonna happen without approval above my head."

"Do you have potions?"

"You can't afford them."

"Who says?"

"Look, you wanna marry a stripper- none of my business but it's a hell and a stress to get more love potion. So no."

"Who said I needed a love potion?"

"People that buy love potions are scum."

"Couldn't agree more."

"And they like to waste my time." Grunt.

"Time is a valuable resource. Don't you have anything more- towards my caliber of person?"

"I only have one backroom, blood sucker. And it's not that kind."

"Believe it or not, I am full up on blood. I am seeking other things."

"I don't help with robberies."

"I'm not planning a robbery."

Grunt. Sigh. Growl. A long, dark gaze in Luke's direction. Luke merely grins at the other softly and waits for approval.

"Fine."

A button locks the door, locks them in. 

"But only because it's a slow night." Grunt.

Luke amends his previous idea. The way that he swing walks, almost waddles, means gnome territory. Odd though, he's almost the height of three gnomes end to end. Well, Luke thinks, at least he's got his own business. That must be comforting. He tried not to think of anyone as particularly unattractive but the man had a face that looked as though it was carved from tree bark and brought to life. 

Better not to think about it. Positive thoughts. Yes. Positive thoughts.

The back room was a little closer to Luke's own nature. There were orbs, beakers, powders, stacks of boxes, a few books and magazines, and sundry other important items that if you touched them the wrong way- you not only bought them but you'd probably lose a finger in the process.

"Much more my style."

Grunt. "Home. What you want?"

"A potion to reverse a charm or hypnosis."

"Don't have that."

"You have a lot of beakers."

"You're right. But don't have that."

"Will you say why or do we have to keep beating around the bush?"

"Embargo on certain ingredients."

"Embargo'ed? By who?"

"Who do you think?! You don't think somebody runs Vegas that has no business-" Grunt. "I'm not looking to raise my blood pressure."

"A talisman then."

"Bought. Sold. Bought again. Sold again."

"By whom."

"They're dead now."

"Real dead or my kind of dead?"

"Is there a difference?" Grunt, sharp hacking laugh. "Go back where you came from vampire. You want something nobody in town's got and for reason."

"Are we going to keep playing games or are you going to tell me what that reason is?"

"I prefer to keep leaving." 

The gnome/troll pawn shop operator unlocked the back and front door and motioned for Luke to leave.

The lack of supplies for wards and things to deal with hypnosis and charm were telling. Frightening. There was something bad here. And even the trolls were afraid, so it seemed. 

"Could you at least try-"

"I told you. It's a worthless hunk of junk. Try throwing it over the side of Hoover Dam."