Family Matters

"The Reliquary," as the store is aptly named, consists namely of one room for its mundane visitors. There are a number of alcoves with particularly interesting displays; a wall of herbs and teas; an opposing wall of crystals and sundry sparkling minerals; and what would be a general air of New-Agey occult if the shop weren't entirely full of antiques and nestled in the heart of Boston. Instead it has the feel of a dusty, mysterious archive, with books (both new and old) packed on shelves, and the occasional symbol of protection what retails for $19.99.

For the store's more supernaturally inclined visitors, there's another room behind the desk what houses lore and more practical artifacts, but it just so happens to be warded against most everything Danny can think of, so it's unlikely anyone's getting in there without his consent. Speaking of Danny. One might expect the store owner to be some floosy cat lady or a white-bearded man with a wand and triangle hat. Maybe after watching the "Dresden Files," the mundanes are less surprised at who they see behind the counter, but Danny is younger with darker features than Harry Dresden, still. Generally bedecked in a simple v-neck layered over by a light cargo jacket or button-down shirt, Danny looks like he might be more appropriately stationed in a gym or at a sports bar. With his rugged and imposing presence, at any given moment, it seems at least half of the patrons are in the store for him and couldn't care less about the merchandise. But they still buy trinkets, and that keeps the store afloat.

Today, it's just past the morning 'rush,' such that it is. Danny sits behind the counter, sipping some ginseng and jasmine tea, pouring over some tome or another, a ratty green ballcap set on his head at an awkward angle. At least it matches his cargo jacket. Adele is currently piping over the shop's speakers: "There's a fire starting in my heart / Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark..." The door chimes overhead, signalling a new customer. Two in fact. It's Rese who steps through the door first, wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a white wife beater. It's spring, afterall! And manages to come off NOT being white trashy. She lets her gaze sweep the interior of the store, slowly relaxing her stance. Paranoid? Maybe just a bit. There's a heavy, heart-felt sigh from behind her, and Gladis Glanvil pushes by the young woman ("young" being relative as Rese is right at 27 herself). The white-haired woman stops just inside, tilting her head in what might even be considered a flirtatious manner. "Danny, if you don't give me a kiss now, I may never forgive you," she declares with faux-seriousness, lifting her face and turning her cheek, expctant for that demanded kiss. Rese? She's drawing a deep breath, letting her head fall back to stare up at the ceiling. "I swear," she bemoans. "Have you /not/ figured out this doesn't embarress me?" Nevermind the color creeping into her cheeks to the contrary.

A shopkeeper's habit, Danny stirs and looks up once the door jingle announces the arrival of a new customers. He doesn't look like he's about to leap out of his chair to make a potential customer feel welcome, but he does lift his hand in recognition, and is about to make some vocal gesture of goodwill when he realizes who the customer actually /is/. "Miss Glanvil," he says, glancing from the older woman, to Rese, and then back. "Hey, good morning." Vaulting over the sturdy desk with ease, he steps forward and leans down to plant a beard-bristley kiss on the older woman's cheek. "I think my shop would go out of business if you got too cross with me," he admits with a small smile. "Is this the granddaughter you've been talking about?" Standing up, he extends a rough hand towards Rese and nods. "Danny Mazda. She's said mostly good things, I promise."

The elderly woman positively beams as she gets the kiss - and who wouldn't?? Ooooh, to be able to play the 'old lady card' on handsome young men. She is positively tickled as he steps back, one hand pressed to her chest. "Oh Danny," she can only sigh. "I'll be coming here 'til the day I die - you know that. And even then, I might see about making arrangements to visit now and again." That'd be funny... if it wasn't also a distinct possibility at the same time.

The proferred hand is accepted by Rese with a firm return of her own. "Rese Madison," she returns with an incline of her head. We'll ignore how her grandmother generally refers to her as 'Patience.' "Gran has been cooing over for years, I hope you realize.  It's a pleasure to finally put a face to all the stories." She pauses, an exaggerated look towards the older woman then back again. "And what she has said about you has cost me a fortune in therapy bills." She gives a teasing wink as she releases his hand. "Though, it's alright, Mr. Mazda-" Grandma is here - gotta be polite. "You don't have to lie and say they've been good. I've been getting the guilt trip about not visiting for a while now." She hunches her shoulders, expelling a heavy sigh. Ooooh, the pain!

"Danny," the man insists; as Rese might expect, his grip is firm... but worn? That's the grip of a Hunter far more than a scholar. Hrm. Then again, he doesn't exactly look like a scholar anyways. "So long as you allow me to take showers in peace," he teases the older woman with a stern expression, as if he seriously expects her to take full advantage of being incorporeal. "Your grandmother has a creative way of complimenting people," Danny admits, "But if I say anymore, she might find a reason to spank me, so I'll just say that it's a pleasure to meet you." Gesturing them both more fully into the store, he explains that he's got Gran's normal things ready to go, but she should take a look around anyways, as some things are new. "I got a shipment in last week. The recent shakeups have unearthed a few interesting finds, and I try to stay on top of them."

Gladis is grinning downright impishly at the teasing from the younger man, all but batting her lashes at him. But oh, the promise of new things to comb through! There's a spark in her eyes, and she looks for a moment to Rese, meeting her grandaughter's gaze before turning to hurry off.

"It's amazing how spry that woman can be," Rese murmurs, her hands slipping into her front pockets, arms locking straight, shoulders hunching forward just a bit. She rocks back on her heels - worn tenis shoes rather than combat boots - looking back to the shopkeeper. "You're not a native." It's a statement of fact rather than a question. "You don't have the nasal drawl thing that most of the locals have." She doesn't have it, mind. Neither do her grandparents. "But realy, Nan says wonderful things about you. Thank you for being so kind to her through these rough times." Rough times... anyone listening will assume she means the economy. "I think she needs this kind of thing to distract her."

"I've been around," says Danny, hoisting himself back over the desk and into his original seating arrangement. It's one of those absolute statements, where it says everything Rese needs to know and yet actually doesn't say that much at all. "Your grandmother is one of my best and least irritating customers. That right there is enough to make me walk around shirtless if she asked." He's obviously not being serious, and given the emphasis he puts on 'irritating,' it's likely he cares more about that than the money she spends. "She's a tough old bat," he agrees, barely smiling - but it's there. "I think she's been riding things out better than most."

Hazel eyes widden, and the young woman sends an almost frightened look after the old woman. "Don't /say/ that so loud," she hisses, following after the man. "She hears you offer that, you'll be shirtless inside a minute - I guarantee it!" She can't hold it long, and is soon grinning, looking back to the fellow. "I appreciate it, though. You being here. Helping her out. I think...." she trails off, her expression turning more serious as she watches her grandmother move through the store, sifting the junk from the legitimate artifacts. "I have the feeling she'll outlast all of us," she murmurs.

Danny glances towards the old woman, and then promptly shakes his head. "Nah; I intend to live a very long time yet. Not that I think she won't stick around for awhile." A shrug, and a wave to dismiss Rese's thanks, as if he doesn't deserve it. "Symbiotic relationship," he says, lifting the aforementioned tea-mug. "She buys my stuff and I keep her smiling." All business, of course. And speaking of business - he resumes the business of sipping at his tea. "Feel free to take a look around, Miss Madison. I don't keep the good stuff out here, but you might find something useful."

"Rese," she corrects, looking about herself. Hands leave her pockets, arms crossing over her chest. "And not really my thing. Nan?  God yes.  Me? Not s'much. If there's anything interesting, she'll start screeching for me." She turns a bright smile towards the chap as he's trying to relax. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me," she admits. "Though..." her gaze drops to the book he was combing through when she came in, craning her neck just a bit. "Light reading?" Nosey? Yes. It's an occupational hazard, isn't it? She looks away quickly enough, however, turning her body away to give every indication with body cues that if he did not wish to speak she wasn't going to browbeat him into it.

It's actually a very big tome, and looks quite old. Leather-bound, in fact. He holds it up so she can see it, not shy at all. If he didn't want it to be seen, he wouldn't have it so visible, after all. "Brushing up on my demon lore," he says, setting the book down. "It's written in a few different Semitic languages, compiled by other lore-keepers, hunters, and so on a long time ago. Given recent events," he says, without finishing the statement. Apparently he feels it's self explanatory. "I like to make sure my shop stays a safe place."

Her gaze flits over the book for a moment as he speaks, giving a small nod before her attention swings away. To the windows. The door. Tilting her head to again to look up at the ceiling. Checking for all the little things necessary to protect one's home and business. She's learned to recognize THOSE a long, long time ago. Even if she doesn't necessarily how to od all the art herself. "Oh, the demons are still a pain in the ass," she agrees, tone casual. "But there are more things out there right now." Her body tenses, shoulders, back, arms. She unfurls said arms, letting them hang at her sides. "Granted..." she trails off, pursing her lips for a moment before turning to look at him again. "Seen alot of activity around here?" He seems to be far more active than her grandparents, afterall.

The shop is protected to an almost extravagant degree. Glyphs and wards are worked into the general decor of the place, from whorls in the paint on the wall, to hanging tapestries and carvings into the floor. It gives the place that mysterious, arcane sort of feeling mentioned earlier. And it's unlikely Danny did all of that on his own, if he did any of it; much of it looks quite old. "So I've heard," he says, apparently coming to the conclusion that Rese isn't going to go anywhere any time soon. "Would you like some tea?" he offers, marking his place in the book and then sipping at his own mug once again. Oh, he's certainly noticed that she's pretty. That's probably part of the reason why he hasn't turned up the ice. But, hunter. Always with the hunters. "Some," he says after a moment of thought. "Nothing striking lately, though instances have been on the rise, and generally more organized. But I'm told that's not odd, and that it's happening like that all over the country."

Still not looking back at him, Rese gives a small nod. She shifts slightly away, studying the symbols as she tries hard to place them - it's a small distraction at best from her grandmother's beau. But the offer for tea? She blinks, turning to look back at him, both brows lifted in surprise. Why is anyone's guess. She smooths it away to replace the expression with a warm smile. "That would be nice, thank you." See, she DID learn manners! "I swear, we won't stay in your hair too long. We have a few other stops to make before we head back to the B&B..."

She pauses, shifting slightly from foot to foot. She sorts through her words, lips pursing a bit before she sighs faintly. This one more sincere than the melodrama from before, and she turns to face him, hands settling to the edge of his desk. "Yeah, it's all over. It's... insane," she admits. "But Nan said she saw a few portents and I needed to get my ass back here. Something big's about to go down. Are..." she pauses, glancing towards the Glyphs and back to him, meeting his gaze steadily. "Are you going to be safe here?" It's a sincere question, the words pitched low for his ears alone.

"I can take care of myself," he assures her as he stands, "But thanks for offering." Now to fetch that tea. Actually, it's not far, as he has a pot on simmer for samples over by the tea display. And it does smell quite lovely as he pours some of the golden liquid into a small Chinese ceramic. He hands it to her as he returns to the desk area, but doesn't bother vaulting over the desk again. Likely, he's just going to keep moving back and forth if he does that. "This shop is one of the safest places in the city - from nasty creatures, anyways. It has to be; there's a lot of sensitive material stored away.

Watching after the man, Rese cranes her neck a bit. Oh yes, one can certainly appreciate the view. She snaps her attention up to where it should be - his face - as he turns back around, holding her hands out to acept the tea wth a nod of thanks. "Oh, careful. If Nan hear's you saying that, you're liable to have a few roommates," she warns with a flash of a smile. "I imagine she'll have Gramps here in about two seconds. She's just a bit protective." Though, the Bed and Breakfast - while not nearly THIS secure - has its own fair share of security protocols set up. Glyphs - what a way to protect one's self. She sips of the tea, testing it as she looks away to spot the older woman. "Though, if it gets realy bad, I may be sendingthem both here to bunk down with you. They're small," she adds, looking back with a crookd smile. "They won't take up too much space.

"I don't think it'll come to that," says Danny, trying his best to not outright say 'this isn't a boarding house!' "If they survived the world almost imploding in Apocalypse, they're probably sturdy enough to survive anything." But, to not seem like a complete douche, because he's not one, the shopkeeper adds, "I've been keeping an eye on them." Whether out of genuine affection or to maintain their commercial symbiosis, he leaves up to Rese's imagination. "Besides. You hunters do your job and there shouldn't be anything to worry about." His mug is set down, and his arms cross over his chest. It's his 'bouncer' look. Or something. "I don't like seeing people hurt any more than the next man, but that includes innocent people who have had their lives warped by supernatural misfortune. If I can fix them, I will." But, that said, he sighs. Obviously there's a 'however' in there somewhere, but he doesn't bother to vocalize. "You need any stock, you can come here. But the 'kill it' attitude stays outside."

Both brows wing upwards, and Rese turns her head to look up at him, studying his features for a moment. "You're... not a Hunter." A statement rather than a question,b ut she still sounds surprised. "But..." She looks away, about the room - the glyphs, the legitimate artifacts - then back to him, taking in the expanse of shoulder, even his hands again before back to his face. She gives a slight nod. "Gotcha." Right. A dealer. Both sides of it, huh? SHe shifts a bit, taking a thoughtful sip of her tea. "So your'e saying I shouldn't bring any guns into this place, huh?" She holds up one hand, smile coming back instantly. "I'm not," she adds quickly. "Nan was /very/ specific that I disarm before she took me into town. Even frisked me!"

"No," comes the succinct the reply. Well, not a Hunter in the typical sense, at least. "I'm saying that I help people with good intentions. Though even those sometimes go down dark roads, but I can't control what happens as soon as someone walks out that door." He tilts his head in the direction of the entrance. "If someone comes in here on a witch hunt, I won't help them. Hunters tend to forget that a lot of their 'monsters' were people once. And might be again given the opportunity." Again, there's a nasty 'however' lurking in behind those words. "You want to help them, I'll help you. I accept that mercy killings are sometimes necessary." He says those words without loving a single one of them, and concludes with: "But this is a safe place." A sanctuary, in other words.

Interesting.... Rese continues to study the tall dark man, head tilted slightly as she does so. "Curiouser and curiouser," she murmurs to herself before giving a small shake of her head. "I understand," she says in more conversational tones. "Don't worry. I'll play nice." No explanation as to what side she is on or her general attitude towards the Supernatural there. She settles back against his desk, turning to do so that she's actually at his side, mimicking his own stance as she sips a bit more of her tea.

Anyways. /That/ said, Danny unfolds his arms and allows a bit more humor into his posture. "I never had any doubt," he says, with genuine sincerity. After all, her Gran is right there, and likely Rese would get a good caning if she started acting up! "I wasn't making an assumptions about you personally, but I like to make my position clear to everyone 'in the know' who walks through that door. I provide a service, not a soup kitchen, or an armory." Hunters have enough of those things in their own community anyways. "But I do have a competitive customer rewards program." That may or may not be a joke.

A sidelong look accompanies a distinctly crooked smile. "Yeah, I witnessed. How much do you have to purhcase before you get greeted at the door with hugs and kisses?" She teases, a laugh bubbling forth. She takes another sip of her tea, craning her neck back towards... "Hey, where'd the old lady go?" She straightens up, setting the tea aside. "She can't get into your back room, can she?" She looks back to him. "You said that's where you keep the reall interesting stuff, right?"

Danny replies in his best deadpan. "Seventy-Five dollars a week. You get shirtless at one hundred and fifty." But oh, hey, where /did/ the old lady get to? "Not without my permission," says he, glancing over his shoulder. "There's an alarm ward." Hrm. Straight away, he walks into the shop proper to make sure Gran just didn't fall over in ecstasy at the new 'intimacy' charms.

"...she pays you two hundred a week, doesn't she?" Rese asks, keeping her expression deadpan. But she can't help but grin, shaking her head as she pushes away from the counter to follow after him. Nope. No old woman there in the shop. Even around the different shelves or anything. Rese is frowning more as she moves about in a different direction, splitting off automatically to cover more space, moving quietly as she goes. Habit.

Granted, that's when there's a squealing of tires, and a red jeep wrangler goes speeding off, a little old lady behind the wheel, her white hair fluttering in the wind as the top of the jeep is off. Rese straightens up, staring out the window. ".... she stole my Jeep."

Glancing out the windows of the shop, Danny seems to notice, too. Wonderful. Stepping towards the door, he fingers the chimes, which rattle. "She must have held them as she was leaving so we wouldn't hear. I really need to get one of those electronic ones." What was he saying about Gran still having wit enough? Point illustrated. "Does she does this to you often?"

"I'm not home that often," Rese points out drily. "Usually out on the road." her hands go to her hips as she moves towards the door, standing there so she can glower out. "She's evil," she declares after a moment. "I mean... seriously. Pure evil." But she knows how to drive a Jeep, andone can see her cutting across distant traffic to speed away. "Phone book?" she asks, looking up at Danny with a rather hopeful expression.

By the point Rese is done staring after her grandmother, Danny has already left the window and is heading back to his desk. "Yeah," he says, actually walking around it this time rather than vaulting over it as he had been doing. Shuffle, shuffle. And voila! A phonebook is produced. "I think she's hoping I'll be forced to drive you home or something," he muses, snorting softly. "She says I don't get out enough, I should meet a nice girl, I should come over and have dinner. I think you've become a pawn." The phonebook is held out. And hey, there's a little smile there. Big smiles aren't really his thing.

Already pulling a cell phone out of her pocket, Rese accepts the book. "I figured that's what she was going for, too," she drawls out, setting the thing down to flip through the pages. "And Danny, let's face it - the old bitty's been using me as a pawn for over a decade now. Don't see why it's goign o stop any time soon." She gets to the Taxi services. "Fortunately, I'm used to her wily ways. Hence asking for the phone book.  If I were you, though?  I'd make sure she didnt' cut your phone lines.  She sometimes forgets aobut things like cell phones," she adds with a wink.

Danny's face droops into a tired, puppy look that says, 'please don't even joke about that'. Gluh, dealing with customer service bureaucracy. There's probably a hell for that. "If it's about that, just tell her I'll visit, so long as there aren't hunters crawling all over the place," he says, breaking down and smoothing his dark bangs back over his head, having removed the ball cap. "I'd rather just give in and play along than fight the overwhelming amount of time she has to plot." But then he quickly reneges a little. "Of course... if it isn't about that. Please don't say anything." Because then he'd be stuck.

"Ah, but then there's the problem with /me/ being a Hunter," Rese points out as she punches in one of the numbers and lets it ring. "But I'll nose about and see what hse has up her sleeve. I may be able to nip it pretty fast. She /did/ raise me, afterall. I sort of know her tricks by now." She turns away, taking a step back. "Hi, I need a pick-up....?"