Family tradition, eh? The comment all but confirms it for him, since they're here, standing in a shop with at least one genuinely cursed artifact. He glances towards the wildly gesturing hands and-- yep, there it is.
A magical ring. And it's nearly as stylish as the old man shoes.
Arthurian legends are potent stuff, he knows. The only one of Merlin's spells he's ever managed to cast, he'd done drunk off his arse and clumsy, half-convinced it could never work - and it had still managed to make his best mate immune to the more permanent effects of death at least 47 times. Granted, he'd also ruined that mate's life, but he's never needed Merlin's help for that.
But yes, he's definitely sticking around now. Merlinian types tend to be delightfully off their rockers, bunch of walking, talking spectacles: probably because they've lived too goddamned long and gone collectively batty, which is just fine with John. He prefers it to the more boring, stuffy, proper brand of practitioners found in other schools, honestly.
"Stories, eh? That's a way to put it." A beat, and he grins, apparently satisfied with Dave's word choice, "Authentic is what I'm in the market for."
never a problem! and omfg I'm dying at the description of Merlineans
John's eyes fall on his hand and suddenly Dave feels very, very exposed. He quickly puts them in his hoodie pockets, which he realizes is a mistake a second after he's done. Good old Streisand effect - the more you try to hide something, the more attention you draw to it.
Be right back, facepalming at himself. Take the opportunity to admire the ring more if you will, it was made from Excalibur after all.
"What are you here for?" That is the tone of a man giving up, yep. "If this is about the Chrysler building then--"
The "story" he has for John is interrupted when the door slowly opens, only to suddenly slam shut. By its own. One could blame the wind, but with them being who they are and being at the place they are at the moment, they should know better.
There's something different in the air, that's for sure.
"....please, please tell me you did that." Dave's look for John is a mix of accusing and hopeful at the same time. Because if this man didn't do that then there's something there waiting for both of them.
A shake of a big vase, the rustling of a book's pages. Dave doesn't know if keeping his eyes on John or the moving objects, and frankly? He isn't sure what option offers the worst scenario.
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sorry this is so late, holidays got in the way!
A magical ring. And it's nearly as stylish as the old man shoes.
Arthurian legends are potent stuff, he knows. The only one of Merlin's spells he's ever managed to cast, he'd done drunk off his arse and clumsy, half-convinced it could never work - and it had still managed to make his best mate immune to the more permanent effects of death at least 47 times. Granted, he'd also ruined that mate's life, but he's never needed Merlin's help for that.
But yes, he's definitely sticking around now. Merlinian types tend to be delightfully off their rockers, bunch of walking, talking spectacles: probably because they've lived too goddamned long and gone collectively batty, which is just fine with John. He prefers it to the more boring, stuffy, proper brand of practitioners found in other schools, honestly.
"Stories, eh? That's a way to put it." A beat, and he grins, apparently satisfied with Dave's word choice, "Authentic is what I'm in the market for."
never a problem! and omfg I'm dying at the description of Merlineans
Be right back, facepalming at himself. Take the opportunity to admire the ring more if you will, it was made from Excalibur after all.
"What are you here for?" That is the tone of a man giving up, yep. "If this is about the Chrysler building then--"
The "story" he has for John is interrupted when the door slowly opens, only to suddenly slam shut. By its own. One could blame the wind, but with them being who they are and being at the place they are at the moment, they should know better.
There's something different in the air, that's for sure.
"....please, please tell me you did that." Dave's look for John is a mix of accusing and hopeful at the same time. Because if this man didn't do that then there's something there waiting for both of them.
A shake of a big vase, the rustling of a book's pages. Dave doesn't know if keeping his eyes on John or the moving objects, and frankly? He isn't sure what option offers the worst scenario.