[PKMN FULL] Cornered On The Market! [T](IC)

Druag
Druag hadn't noticed how tense his shoulders had been until they relaxed on hearing Silver receive his small contribution. Maybe he wasn't as bad at the whole decorating thing as he'd thought.

Castiel's voice came, calling Blair (ah, that was the Braixen's name) and Druag out, and Druag turned to face his boss in time to see something bright in the doorway for just a split second. Druag wasn't even totally sure he'd seen it until he heard Castiel's sharp hissing word:

Intruder.

Druag's grip tightened on the broom as his mind played back all the sour instances in which that word had sounded in his past. Stranger in the caves. Trespassers, scavengers, interlopers, thieves. Echoing shouts and growls in the dark. Accusations, curses, cries of surprise and anguish. Druag pinning some hapless thing against the wall and making absolute certain the cretin wouldn't come back after he'd applied the cruel laws of the wilderness: tooth and nail. Roars of warning as he watched them run away into the dark of the night, thoroughly disheartened from any future attempts.

Druag took a step forward, just a small one, with his left leg, and the pain that flared as he put his weight on it called him back to reality. Castiel had whirled around and issued an order that carried the weight of the authority he had over them all: "Everyone: to work! Don't follow me."

And with that, Castiel disappeared out the door. Druag stood for a moment, unsure. There had been a time when he was the one that chased after intruders, when he was the one in charge. But those times were behind him, and Druag had to come to terms with that now. Druag took a deep breath and turned away, back to his sweeping.

Like you could catch a runner, anyway. When was the last time you could match pace with a Torkoal, Druag? Druag sniffed. At the very least, he could still swing with proper force, he was sure. And, even, he was quite sure he could drag himself on his arms some small way if it ever came to blows. Maybe he couldn't chase anymore, but he could still fight. Frozen Foonguses, Druag, what are you thinking? You can't be thinking like a beast anymore, even if you do look like one. You're a civilized Pokémon, now. And civilized Pokémon don't think about shaking down trespassers. You simple oaf.

Druag dropped the dustpan and swept his little gathered pile into it before hobbling to the waste basket and then returning to his steadfast broomwork. He was quite sure Castiel could handle the issue. Mismagiuses—Mismagii?—were quite fast, he'd surely catch whatever that was in the doorway earlier. Druag distantly remembered what it was called—a Kecleon—but couldn't remember ever having personally dealt with one. Known for changing colors, or something.

Druag filled the dustpan and did another lap to the waste basket, this time bringing the basket back with him to carry along as he went. Walking across the room was starting to get rather annoying, really. Druag stopped a moment and scanned the building: he was keeping a rather commendable pace, he thought. His long arms let him drag the broom across the floor in great swathes, and despite sweeping one-handed Druag was managing to be quite thorough. At least, he didn't think he was missing any spots. He had been at it for a solid ten minutes, give or take, and looked to have it finished in another ten.

"Hm," he said aloud, more to himself than anyone who might be paying attention. "I'll be finished sweeping in another ten minutes or so, I figure. I can help with the decorations after I'm done if they aren't finished by then." He nodded to the shelf he was sweeping near. He was more planning for his own benefit than making suggestions at the moment, and might have been muttering as he eyed the old trinkets and assorted bric-a-brac. "Hm, if they decide they can handle the stand, I'll probably just dust these old things, I suppose."

Silver and that fish fellow might not have hands in the traditional sense, but Druag sort of thought they were probably a little better with delicate work than he was, and that Blair girl certainly was. He resolved to help them if they found something they felt he was needed for, but he wouldn't otherwise risk messing up such things with his grubby claws. He stood much less risk of breaking something if he was using a feather-duster on paperweights, he thought.

Druag smiled a little to himself as he swept. It was a lot easier to ignore his more melancholic thoughts when he had work to do. Easier, perhaps, Druag. But you can't ignore the truth. You simple oaf.

Druag, frowning, emptied another dustpan of sweepings into the waste basket and wondered inwardly whether there was a dumpster big enough somewhere in town that could similarly dispose of him.

Spora realized she could probably make Amaryllis look like a horrible person should she let Goro know what was actually going on around here, but the need to keep a job was just slightly higher on her priority list that selling out her boss for her behavior. Though when that same boss seemed intent on throwing her employees, and she was one of those, to the dogs, she was far less concerned with making sure Amaryllis looked good. She pretty much ignored Rina's scream for the most part, whatever it was about hardly concerned herself. She did give Goro a look though, as much as a Parasect can give any pokemon a look, big pokemon that he was, looked tough. But she didn't much care about him though, he wasn't here because of her so it was a moot point.

Instead she scuttled after her boss, carrying the Bidoof atop her mushroom even now. As she went she wiped off some dried up spittle flecks, as when they had landed on her any moisture they contained seemed to have vanished within the blink of an eye. After she had followed her employer into the supply room she stated. "You know, I don't think it's any better that Goro thinks your employees harm each other as opposed to him having accidentally hurt himself." though she realized it was purely because her boss didn't want Goro to know she had put Samuel into a position that would likely end up with him getting hurt, she wouldn't have bothered with it at all if Amaryllis hadn't implied that she could have possibly done something like that. If she was going to be potentially blamed for hurting someone she'd actually like to get to hurt someone.

Spora was actually somewhat pleased to see Amaryllis so displeased, it was like a wonderful little moment for her. "From what I could tell, he dropped one of those big statues on his tail." she told her. She wasn't sure of the exact details of how that happened, but when you put Samuel together with heavy lifting, it wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility to assume the end results would be less than pleasant. "It's far less irritating than being insulted if that's what your insinuating, the additional heat is less than comforting." she continued as she watched Amaryllis have some sort of tizzy or something, it was hard to tell what was going through her bossed mind most of the time.

Though looking outside with her she saw that it looked rather, disheveled out there. Kind of wondered what happened herself, she hadn't seen anyone go out there, well, aside from the Furret earlier. Unsure if her boss was addressing her or simply talking to herself, honestly it was more likely to be the latter than the former, she answered regardless. "Well I couldn't tell you, I haven't been out back all day, though I recall the uh, what's his name, the Furret went out back just a bit ago."

Honestly Spora hadn't been much concerned when Samuel suddenly ran off. If he could still move like that then obviously he wasn't hurt to badly. Though looking out to see what was wrong with her boss she had also seen the apparent disheveling that had occurred in the back. Though she honestly couldn't understand why that would have her so upset, but then again to her the back was just an empty patch of dirt and rocks for the most part, with little understanding of why Amaryllis seemed to care so deeply about it. Though as Amaryllis shouted what seemed to be the ultimate threat, Spora just stood by wondering how she'd even go about doing that. Amaryllis fire all of her employee's was she even capable of running all of this by herself these days? Spora wanted to say that, she wanted to tell Amaryllis that she could fire the lot of them and to have good luck running things by herself on the day of the festival. But she couldn't.

Not because she really cared about Amaryllis as a pokemon, no there was no sympathy for her in that department, but because Spora was far too angry with whoever had called this wrath upon her, it was one thing for her to face her own consequences, but when her job was on the line because of someone else's mistakes, that's when she got more than just peeved. Cicaro mentioned a culprit of some sort, she wondered if whoever this was still remained outdoors somewhere? Regardless she needed to get out of here just for her own sanity. So she scuttled her way out of the room, through the store area, ignoring everyone else as she went out the front door, looking to see if there was anything out there to investigate, not even giving Goro a glance as she did, though a glance would mean little given her lack of pupils.

The crippled dragon, who had seemed to be struggling with something or other, perhaps an old memory of days long since past, had helped Blair stack some crates, taking over with the top crates when Blair's dimimitive height of 3' 03" prevented her from continuing. Working together rather harmoniously without any back talk or sarcasm from Blair was a bit of a rarity when she wasn't dealing with customers. After finishing stacking the crates, the elder dragon had stated that his claws and the like probably wouldn't fare so well for the cloth; however, he did volunteer himself to get supplies to decorate the table with. With this in mind, Blair replied, "Hmm...well, if ya could pull out those amethyst beads we have somewhere-I don't remember where they were-and some of those mystical vases." The "mystical vases" were nothing more than ordinary clay pots decorated with an admittedly pretty turquoise glaze and some supposedly "mystical" cinnabar imbued into it.

Amethyst beads and mystical vases. Right. "I'll poke around in the back and see if I can't find em, Ms. Blair."

On top of the cases and beads that were provided to Blair, it also appeared Errol also pitched in, bringing along with him a pack of cards and mentioning where the crystal ball - an item almost crucial to entire stand - was.

Druag hobbled off toward the storage room on his cane, scanning the shelves as he went by in case the requested materials had been put out at some point. He shivered once as he moved and took it as a good sign: he must have taken his pill after all that morning; if he hadn't he would have been reduced to shaking fits about twenty minutes ago, he figured. He reached the back and swept his eye over the grubby room of crates and boxes. Dark rock, simple stone, look for the sparkle, see what has shone. His gaze blinked over something of a particular purple and he hobbled over to it, disappointed to find it had been only colored glass. Fool's gold, keep looking. He turned about, running his miner's eye over the dry cardboard veins in search of little purple beads.

"Ah! There we are." They had been in one of the lower cardboard boxes, behind where he had gotten the broom earlier. They were quite pretty but almost too round and light. Druag was inclinde to think they might have been fake, but when he brought them closer to his face he suddenly couldn't tell. "Hm. Not bad." He had never dealt with amethyst a whole lot, himself, so he admitted his expertise on that matter might be lacking. That had always been her job.

He cleared his throat abruptly, calling himself back to reality. He took up the box and carried it back to the tent quickly, and didn't stop to wait for acknowledgement before leaving it on the floor and returning to the storage room for some vases. The vases in question Druag remembered easily: quite a curious shade of red and largely unlike the more cool colors of the trinkets in the back room. They were lined against the back wall on a low shelf, and Druag snaked his long arm out to hug a good six of them to his chest snugly. His throat itched a little in memory as he caught the scent of cinnabar on them. Hm, I kind of thought that stuff was toxic. I guess it doesn't bother these town Pokémon if they don't have to sit in clouds of it. He still remembered that one time years ago when he had been asked to bring up cinnabar in someone else's cave, and had been told not to breathe the dust too deeply.

He hobbled carefully back to the tent with his precious red cargo and then, ever so slowly, he put all his weight onto his right foot and tail as he leaned his cane against the wall and used his now-free left hand to unload the vases from the cradle of his arm and onto the floor next to the tent. He took his cane back up and turned to the little fish, putting his voice back into that more chipper tone that grew easier to hold as work distracted him from his biting monologue. "I think that'll be enough to keep Ms. Blair for a while, you suppose we ought to spruce up the rest of the store a little, champ?"

Errol nodded. "Yes mister! But fiirst, I'll go fetch that crystal ball, so Blair can finish up with the whole setup." he turned around, but suddenly stopped himself. "Oh! Did you need me to get the chairs too? I don't think I can lift-" he stopped mid-sentence, and gazed up at the powerful dragon-type. Shaking his head and frowning determindely, he cleared his throat. "I mean, I can do it on my own!" I can't have Mister Druag do everything! I must learn to be stronger!

"No, no," Druag hurriedly said at the Qwilfish's insistence, "I can get those, champ." Truth be told, Druag couldn't quite imagine how Errol would manage it, except if he just pushed them over, and he didn't suppose that would be the fastest course of action. Still, something about the little guy's eagerness made Druag a little warm inside. Must be those Spelon Berries I had yesterday. He hobbled away on his cane and snatched the cashier's stool out of behind the counter. If whoever ended up manning the register wanted another stool, he'd find one for them later. He brought it over and set it outside the tent and then swept his head around the store. He was hesitant to get one of the stools that had been specifically put out for Errol's use, but he figured he could haul Errol around to anywhere the fish couldn't reach if it came to that. Druag moved over to the stool near the far bookshelf and took it, figuring it was likely to be the least-used, as Errol didn't seem like he'd have the easiest time pulling thick tomes off a shelf anyway. He brought the second stool back to the tent and watched Blair take a handful of decorations inside.

Now content that she had all of the materials to work with, Blair began to decorate the stand until she realized that there was one important piece missing, the crystal ball. She had remembered that Errol was going to get the ball. Blair, without looking up from wrapping the table with the amethyst beads that had been provided for her, hummed a little tune while she decorated the table, excited that she had a chance to participate in soemthing with magic rather than just peddling the goods to do those magical things.

After decorating the table with the beads, she took the jars that had been given to her and began to surround the table with some strategically placed jars (for maximum magical potency). Out of the jars they were given, she placed the widest on the table as support for the ball, adorning the left and right side of the table with space in the middle for a crystal ball. Speaking of, it appears that she forgot to get one or tell either Druag or Errol to go get it.

Errol quickly rolled out to the back of the store again where he had seen the ball. Thankfully it was fairly close to the ground, so he didn't have to use the stools this time. He carefully lifted the ball off the shelf with his tail, and rolled it to the project area where Blair was decorating. "Here you go!" he chimed. "Brought the cleanest and biggest one I could find." He was rather pleased with the fact he had gotten Blair in such a good mood, he had almost completely forgotten his usual shyness and intimidation around here.

After having the ball rolled over to Blair ever so gently with a proud expression from Errol, Blair picked up the pristine, crystalline ball. She picked the ball up ever so gently with her hands, still humming contently and adoring being able to do work with magic, temporarily ignoring her paranoia and distrust that she presented to the world as sarcasm, sass and abrasiveness. In this sort of thing, she could lose herself and ignore her own mental propensities, just like when she was a wee little Fennekin back home.

Blair perched and balanced the ball, nestled by the vase, completing the display. With a satisfied sigh, Blair crossed her arms and looked at the display, satisfied with the relative level of quality to the materials provided.

The project space thus effectively left in Blair's capable hands, Druag went to the store room one final time. He had noticed earlier when he had gotten the broom and dustpan earlier that there was a number of lit candles on the floor around the hatch that lead to the alleyway behind the building. At the time he hadn't questioned it or the potential fire hazard of leaving them in a room full of dried and aged dust-collectors, and he didn't question it now, either. Druag had worked with Ghosts a good deal in his time, and though he'd never dealt with a Mismagius personally, he was pretty sure they didn't have any sort of habits revolving around circles of candles left in unlit backrooms. He was quite sure that whatever superstition might have made Castiel make such an arrangement didn't demand it remain untouched. It had likely served its purpose before Druag had even arrived that morning.

Besides, these candles were already lit, and he didn't trust his dexterity to handle matches to light more or his knowledge of social no-nos to bring himself to ask Blair to do it. He didn't figure Fire Pokémon appreciated it when they were asked to be lighters, and wasn't about to try his chances in the matter if he didn't have to. He reached down with his big hand and managed to pick three up between his finger, careful to keep them upright and the wax from dripping. Then, he shifted his weight as he had done when handling the vases and carefully put down his cane and slipped three more into the cradle of his arm. He was dully aware of the heat from the flames and the wax, but his thickened hide disallowed it to pain him, and he actually rather found it rather soothing. Note to self, invest in candles. Hot wax is much nicer than a blanket, and at least I won't tear holes in wax.

He picked up his cane and stood back up, streaks of green wax smudging all over his chest. The peppermint scent was strong but not unbearably so, but that particular shade of green just seemed garish on Druag. "Hm," he mumbled to himself as he slowly approached the counter near the tent, "I'll have to rinse this off before the customers show up." He reached the counter and gently set the candles one by one on to it before taking one up his hand and turning to Errol. Druag could light more off of the lit candles if they all decided that every shelf should have some of them, but as it stood these six would need positioned throughout the store first. "Alright, champ, you've got a better eye than I would for this sort of thing, tell me where you think these should go." Taking orders from a fish, now? My, my, how very far you've fallen Druag. Druag pushed that thought off. He was too busy to be moping right now.