(1937-09-28) Draughts
Details for Draughts
Summary: On a rainy day, Elijah comes to the apothecary to see if Niamh can bring a little clarity to his cloudy mind.
Date: 28 September 1937
Location: MacDiarmarda Apothecary Shop
Related: None

MacDiarmarda Apothecary Shop Diagon Alley
Fri Sep 28, 1937 ((Fri Sep 28 13:38:00 2012)) (B,2 SE)

It is a fall day. The weather is cool and stormy.

The store's interior is packed full of goods, with barrels of Purple Toad Warts, Flobberworm Mucus, Leech Juice and other large quantities of potion ingredients on the floor. Jars containing Knotgrass, Aconite, Newt Eyes, Ground Scarab Beetles, as well as other herbs, roots, and brightly-colored powders line the walls. Bunches of feathers, fangs, and claws hang from the ceiling. The combination of smells coming from all these different ingredients combine to create an overall stench of bad eggs and rotten cabbages that permeates every corner of the store.


It's a .. typical day in London. Dark clouds cover the sky, obscuring any blue that might be there, with heavy raindrops falling. There's a chill in the air, and within the apothecary shop, the fireplace is lit with a bright, cheery fire, and over the fire, a perpetual cauldron of hot water (mostly for tea, but it looks good, too!). Several candles are lit, placed about the room in the attempt to get rid of some of the more pungent odors of her supplies, but it's never truly gone.

The owner and proprietress of the shop, one Niamh O'Shea is set about the room, checking supplies and making notations in a rather formidable looking old tome, the parchment only half-used, even if it looks centuries old. She whistles as she works, a gleam in the eye and a hop in her step.

The sound WOMP WOMP can almost be hears as Elijah steps into the room, looking to play the part of the severe manic-depressive. He's of course not enjoying any of that wonderful mania today. He slinks across the shop, mumbling something to himself about 'not good enough' and 'never gonna catch him'. He finally gets to the counter and lays his head down on it, heaving a great sigh.

Twisting about at the sound of the door opening, Nia can almost see the rain cloud follow Elijah in the establishment, even after the door is closed, and keep pace with him as he makes his way to the counter. Sticking her wand back into a pocket, she moves quickly to find a high-chair in order to allow the man to at least take a seat. Then, there's the decision.. tea or inquiry? Nia comes around to the other side, ducks her head a little, and the decision is made- inquiry.

"Inspector.. Inspector Lovegood. Are ye alright?" The moment the words are out, however, she can curse herself for actually asking. Of course it doesn't look as if all is 'alright'! "Would ye like a cuppa?"

Elijah stands up and throws his hands up into the air theatrically, "Of course I'm not alright! I'm insane!" He turns and slumps down the face of the counter, staring down at the ground, "Tea…yes. Tea. I would like some."

Nia jumps back in alarm as the outburst comes, her hand coming to her heart to still the pounding from the momentary fright. Her eyes are widened, and she has to take a deep breath in order to see if she can't get her heart to stop trying to escape from her chest. Nodding her head, she sidesteps from behind the counter, "Tea.. I think it would help.."

Once she gets a few steps away, and nearer the fireplace, she begins again, her tones moving from alarmed to.. a little more sympathetic, bypassing the terrified to land squarely into the concerned. "A man who has lost his faculties wouldn't call himself insane, Inspector," comes in the Irish lilt. "It's an insane man who declares himself sane."

Elijah shakes his head at the woman and subsequently buries his face in his hands, saying, "That's the case for most people, true…but I possess a vast intellect. I can see the path I'm going down and it leads me to the depths of deep psychosis." He looks up at her in a pleading manner, "I need…I need something to clear up my mind…"

Nia pours the water and steeps the tea, bringing both cups back to the counter. Setting them down with a *click*, she shifts the great tome to the side, and settles into her seat. Exhaling softly, she dips her head in an attempt to see his eyes, and she offer softly, "I made a potion once for Inspector Gideon. He'd wrapped himself up all in knots over the kidnapping an' wasn't gettin' any sleep. I made a draught for clarity an' sleep. One only gained wit'other, mind. It's a calming one, an' one ye can't force yerself against." Like hypnotism. "It won't have any lastings, though. Just help show a path outta the moors."

Elijah stands up slowly, and a bit shakily from the floor and turns around to look at her, "I need it. I need eleven of them…or sixteen. I need a lot of them. He leans against the counter, staring down into the tea as the vapor billows out of it. His eyes turn to lock with hers, "Just…help me. Please."

Niamh watches Elijah carefully, how he moves, how he walks, his words, the intonations, and she exhales as she pushes herself up from the counter. "Ye will get what ye need, an' no more, no less. I won't have ye hurtin' yerself." Now, she takes wand in hand again, and begins to walk her shelves slowly, pulling containers out and onto the her worktable. "Have ye any allergies to roots? Do ye prefer salves to drinking potions? Can ye be sure t'get a good six hours o'sleep after takin' it?" The questions begin to come even as she moves to gather her phials, her ampules and liquids for suspensions.

Elijah starts nodding at all of the questions, "No, no, y-…" He pauses for a moment and then says, "Yes, fine. Six hours. No more, though." He runs his hands through his greying black hair and watches her as she works, a look of quiet observation on his face.

The workbench is now gained, and Nia looks up, a warm smile hinting at her lips. "No more.. tha's all that'll be needed. I've got some in stock, aye, but I think you're philter'll need to be a bit stronger around the edges." She makes her potions to the user, particularly for special orders. It is quick work; and she's not going to announce what goes in- not so much trade secrets, but, well.. for palatability issues. "Do ye like cherry flavour, or ginger? Ginger will help quiet a stomach too, should ye need it."

Elijah waves a dismissive hand towards her and says, "It doesn't matter what it tastes like, it just matters that it gets the job done. How long does it take to kick in?" He peers at her, very impatiently awaiting her answer.

"Liquid suspension, shouldn't take long at all. Five minutes ye'll start feeling effects. After tha', find a spot to lie down, because ye will have a hard time keepin' yer eyes open. It'll be an odd sort'a sleep, though. The jumbled thoughts'll start t'find some order, an' ye will be able to follow them out. Perhaps seein' things ye hadn't before." Niamh's going to make the sleeping draught portion of it a little stronger.. as well as some of the bits for dreams.

Niamh begins to pour the beginnings into a container, now half full of contents, and sets it over a small flame. There, she keeps it and sloshes it a bit so no one part burns. That'd ruin it! But, it's only a minor heat, and she pulls it back again, ready to add the next set. "Inspector Gideon's been talkin' about findin' ye and talkin' with ye. No doubt about work."

Elijah rubs at his chin and peers across at her, asking, "How long will the effects last?" A very serious question for someone who would like to retain sanity for quite a long deal of time. He tilts his head to the side and furrows his brow, "Really? What does he want to talk about if not work? Can he talk about things other than work?"

"The effects should last, well.. the memory of the clarity'll be with ye. The effects of the sleeping draught will be done after your sleep," Nia's smile rises a bit and after setting all the bits together, shakes it carefully before pouring it into small, individual containers. "An' aye, he does talk of other things than work. He sings, an' has a quite nice tenor. An', he weaves wonderful stories." There are six in total, and she stoppers each with a small cork. "These are done. One a night, if'n ye please. If ye don't, then I'll have t'make ye a potion to wake ye from sleep. An' find a lady t'kiss ye to do it."

Elijah peers at her, not sure if he should believe her about Gideon being able to hold a conversation outside of grumbling and mumbling about Elijah. He just shakes his head and slaps down some indiscriminate amount of money onto the counter before collecting up all the container into his arms, "Yes, well…I may just avoid taking them all together if there's a promise of lady-kisses."

"Nay.. let me put them in a bag for ye," and pulling out a brown paper bag, lines it with a quick container charm before reaching to pull them out of Elijah's hands. Her tones turn amused, and there's a merry gleam that rises to those hazel eyes, making them seem as if they dance to the sound of her lilt. "Ye need t'take at least one, then tell me if it's good enough to run the risk of a lady kiss." Pushing the money back, she shakes her head, "I didn't charge Inspector Gideon aught for his, weeks ago. I won't do it to ye either. Your money's no good here."

Elijah thought his money worked everywhere. Hrmm, he'll have to look into getting some new money. He peers at her and takes the bag and looks at her, "Well…thank you, then. I shall be on my way. Much work to do. Much work to do, indeed." He catches something out of the corner of his eye and turns around towards the door, "Must go now." With that he disappears out the door, quickly fading from view as he slinks into a crowd of people.

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