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

only taken reluctantly. Feeling somewhat better already, she sighed and looked down at the box of food that was to be her breakfast, and was pleased to see that Castiel had actually put some effort into making a decent meal. Cake? And gummies too? This must have been a much more important day than she had thought. She happily started munching on some of the nuts inside the package, her mood starting to lighten slight. Between bites, she managed to say, "So Gabriel, anything interesting happen on your...mission?"

The Weavile cracked a smirk as he downed another berry. "Oh, a rather attractive shiny I happened to meet." He responded. "Reminds me of the kind of people my... a friend always hung around with." He chuckled a bit, "If you get my meaning. The dude practically fell for me. It's how I got my information. Just a twiddle of the claws, in a manner of speaking." He grabbed a few nuts and popped them in his mouth, pausing to chew and swallow, "And how'd a Kecleon get in here anyways? Did someone leave a window open?"

It took her a moment to realize that when he said "shiny" he meant one of the strangely colored pokemon that seemed to pop up every now and then. She grimaced when he asked his own question, "Not quite sure, but seeing as how he could camouflage to blend in with anything, I can't say I'm surprised he got in. Only would have taken the door opening once and he could have just slipped through." She thought back thinking when they had first noticed it. "Must have been here for at least a half hour or so I would say." She couldn't figure out why it had been there. If it had only wanted to steal something, it could have gotten in and out quite easily, but instead it looked like it had hung around for a while for some reason. "Say," she asked, "Have you ever seen that pokemon around here before? He seemed familiar for some reason, but I can't quite place it."

Gabriel shrugged, "He's not an employee here, but he could have been a customer, maybe? I mean, we get a lot of weird folks in here. He didn't take anything, did he? I didn't see him carrying anything, but he could have stashed something outside of the store." Gabriel pointed out, "If I was ever caught, that's what I would do." He stated in a matter-of-fact tone while he grabbed some more nuts and chomped down.

"True, but I don't think so. I was kind of taking care of inventory when he was here, and I didn't notice anything missing. I suppose we'll figure out when we count up sales at the end of the day, should know by then." She laughed slightly, "I don't think we're going to have to worry about him for a while though, Goro is pretty tough, I wouldn't want to deal with him."

Gabriel shuddered at the thought, "He almost caught me out there." He stated. "In the back at least. He was heading there with Castiel and I had to hide on the roof. I mean, it's not anything new to me, just it was off putting." He pulled out a rice cake and sniffed it before nibbling it. "Meh, why couldn't we have some fish?" He asked as he nibbled a bit more. He didn't lower his tone all that much, knowing that somewhere Errol was bound to hear it.

"Hey now," she hissed, "Be nice, you don't want Errol's family coming after you. I heard her mom is crazy." She didn't disagree though, some fish or really any sort of meat would have been nice. Her species being a natural predator, she had often wished living in the town for a meat market, and a cheaper one at that.

Gabriel frowned at that, "I didn't say it about him." He muttered softly. "I know about the mother. You heard about that one case about a few months ago? She apparently made enough of a hub bub in this other store that they fired three employees to avoid a lawsuit."

"Absolutely crazy to be sure, I hope we never have to deal with her." Silver continued munching on her breakfast.
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Castiel & Druag
**Joint-post with Jauntier (as Castiel)**

Having been called off of dusting, Druag returned to the front of the store and milled about until Castiel emerged from his office with a few smallish boxes and cushions with a pitcher of some dark something-or-other, and told them all to sit down to breakfast. Druag wasn't especially hungry, but that was only because he had to be used to going without as his restaurant-of-choice didn't always have seating for him. That is to say that the grocers didn't always have edible food in their dumpsters, and Druag didn't always beat the garbage men there when they did.

Druag took a box and a cushion and moved to the end of the closest shelf, dropping the cushion on the floor and carefully lowering himself onto it, his legs out in front of him as he laid his cane across his knees and looked in the box. Fruit with nuts, crackers, and some cake. Also a cup for whatever was in the pitcher on the counter, but Druag didn't usually drink when he ate (very rarely did one find drinkable fluids in the dumpster) and decided to have some after he had consumed the food before him.

Druag decided that Castiel's offer to "sit, eat, and talk" had thus far been satisfied in two parts, so he'd might as well go for all three. Feeling uncomfortable talking with the younger workers there, he decided to engage in small talk with his boss, who was at the very least probably much closer to Druag's own age. Probably. "So," Druag said, carefully picking up a rice cracker with his claws, "Mr. Castiel, you said something about a 'Goro'? That's one of those town guards, isn't it?"

The Ghost Pokémon, who had lowered himself down in front of the counter to conserve his energy for the time being, glanced over at his name being called. Finding it was one of the only other employees not yet engaged in chatting, he addressed Druag's question.

"Yes," he replied, matter-of-factly. "He is one of the volunteer festival guards for today. His regular job happens to be a trusted assistant for the mayor, I hear. His line of work, I'll take a guess, must be in security. I'm not sure what else he does."

Druag nodded as he placed the bland whitish sheet into his mouth and chewed at it. Stephanie, the old Dewgong that would patrol the park at night, had spoken of Goro before. Quite a well-known name among the town guardsmen, it seemed, and an individual demanding no small degree of respect. Even so, she hadn't seemed to think very much of him for some reason, but given that he was a Pangoro, Druag had privately hoped he wouldn't have to find out why for himself.

Castiel had lowered himself in answering Druag's question, and was now in prime position for conversation. Put in other words, it would now be quite rude for Druag to just not talk to to his boss. "He must've been here for a good while, then. Say," he said, picking up another rice cracker, "you've been in town for a while yourself, Mr. Castiel, if local gossip is to be believed. Don't suppose you'd mind sharing what it was you used to do? Before you came to this place, I mean." Druag didn't feel the usual inhibitions to his conversation when he talked to Castiel. For some reason or other, Druag felt as if his boss—be it by age or demeanor or both—was probably less keen on holding breach of etiquette over Druag's head. Or at least Castiel seemed more likely to let Druag know if he misstepped, rather than let him dig himself deeper.

The Mismagius glanced over to the other chattering group forming and returned to his own. His cloak shuddered once as if like a shrug of shoulders. "Well, I suppose you will be the only one particularly privy to this, Druag, but I was once a travelling merchant of novelties and curios." He took a moment to shut his eyes as a hint of pride pitched his inflection, a slight, smiling look on his face. "I roamed far and wide collecting rare, valuable, and interesting things, and if something else caught my eye, I would be one to trade for another, even more interesting thing. I never got enough of finding oddities in this vast, strange world. I have attained a small fortune in possessions over time, in my prime. But now that I'm getting older, I had thought to myself that I ought to settle down someplace, perhaps set up a little store, where I can share with others all the great and mysterious things I've found, as a small service to the community.

"I will admit that I am a bit of a hoarder as well," he continued, opening his eyes. "But aren't we all, in a way? There are some things I've kept over the years that I will never auction off." He stared off to the side, almost longingly. "I still keep the loose shard of the broken Dusk Stone that managed to evolve me, long, long ago." After a moment to bask in fondness, he turned back to the dragon. "And you? It's only fair I ask you the same."

As Castiel talked, Druag had managed to mill through the entirety of his crackers, and now was considering starting on the nut mix. A travelling merchant? Curious. Druag evidently wasn't as worldly as he'd thought: that all very much implied that Pokémon in other parts of the world had started becoming civilized some time earlier than Jubilee was set up. He cleared his throat as he gave up trying to catch nuts between his claws. "Most of my life's been in the caves. I was a feral 'mon, I'm sure you must have heard by now. When the town picked up and a lot of people came to live here and be civilized, my sister and I never made the transition. Dug for gems and things in the caves and then came down here to trade with the grocers. That was up until about a year or so ago, now. And then … well, you know." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, at the wings that weren't there, and then patted his cane for emphasis.

"I managed to crawl all the way down here one way or another, and they patched me up. I've been working temp jobs ever since to keep up enough money to buy that medicine I take for my temperature, Celsux or something. Odd jobs mostly, stuff no one else really ever feels like having to do. Figured I should probably look for a more secure job before all those weird errands dry up." Druag had really not realized that he'd have to answer in turn after asking Castiel what he had considered to be just another shallow platitude. He very much wanted to talk about something else, all of a sudden.

He happened to overhear Gabriel say something about fish, in that unmistakable way that someone would say "meat" instead of "livestock". Druag scowled a little in the Weavile's direction, disapprovingly. Ever since the move to civilization it seemed a lot of carnivores had decided to go with the Berry diet, but not all of them, apparently. Druag had been told that Berry trees had very special fruit and that any Pokémon could subsist on it. He had no way of knowing if that were true or not, but couldn't eat meat anymore, himself. Not since he was with the crew that cleaned up an old abandoned Miltank farm. The things in that barn—

"So did you prepare this food, yourself?" Druag blurted before he could follow that memory any further.

Castiel's eyes were fixed on Druag's, studying them, perhaps even judgingly so. He let the question hang in the air a little so that the ungainliness of it could dawn, just before he was merciful enough to answer. "For the most part, no. Much of these are from little excursions a while back, and I've preserved them to eat every so often or to trade to others. As you can see, I don't eat much." This mention was of the fact that he was the only one of the crew not eating. He didn't even have a box for himself as he sat there in a postured heap beside Druag. "While some of these Berries come straight from the town orchards, the little round white ones with the creamy texture come from Snover. You wouldn't believe how hearty those berries are if you seal them in an air-tight jar, but years ago, before I had even heard of Jubilee, I had found myself exploring a far-off mountain in the north. It was constantly wintry near the summit, and lucky me that I had this very cloak to keep me from freezing." The pink, wooly cloak he wore seemed to shudder on its own as Castiel recalled the memory. "These Snover had their own little civilization in the snow—and made of snow, too. Truly, the only real food they had would seem to be their own berries. How fortunate was I when I came across them during their harvestime, as they were gathering them into a pile in the heart of their hamlet to evenly distribute them amongst themselves. With my little knapsack of unusual treasures I had always carried around with me during those days, I was able to bargain some of their berries for a few seeds of Yache Berries. I had convinced them that should they take care of growing them, they can reap Yache to eat as well. Yache do taste better chilled, after all.

"And those nuts there," Castiel continued, wasting no breath to speak of his exotic findings, "Why, they came from an old Torterra, who every three summers slowly wanders up a river in the valleys four days west of town. He is kind enough to let anyone pick fruits from his treed shell, as long as they save some for the tiny woodland Pokémon who live on his back.

"Those pieces of fruit that look like chopped up banana," he went on, all his stock in articulating his meal as if he had been waiting all this time for someone to ask, "Those are Tropius fruit. Those are imported. I've never met a Tropius myself, since they live in a place across the ocean, but it seems they've a lucrative business in exporting their sweet fruit. The packaging had their official seal on it, at least. They must be very established." In truth, there was no way to discern whether or not that pricey rarity sold by some other supplier was the real deal, but the Ghost had great faith that he was a respected-enough merchant around not to be trifled with—even in goods he had only heard of in the human books he too had hoarded in his travels. That, and it didn't taste like banana.

"The Gummis are imported as well. And that chocolate cake there? That's an Old Chateau recipe that our resident baker, Croquembouche the Slurpuff, knows well: Old Gateau. He gives me treats sometimes. The Lava Cookies, the little rice crackers that they are, are a treat someone else also gave me. That little vial in the corner there happens to be some of the purest, unfiltered Bulbasaur sap, but—Oh, look at me,"

Castiel shook his head and gave a soft, smooth chuckle. "I've up and rambled again. Mother always told me I should just write a memoir. Perhaps it'd spare everyone the trouble of my endless diatribes."

"Oh, think nothing of it, sir, I assure you it's all quite fascinating, " Druag said wholeheartedly. His mind had boggled at the explanations Castiel had given. Who would have thought so many different aspects of the world would come together in this little box? Not so long ago, "Tropius" had just been one of those words like "Wailord" and "airplane" that referred to something Druag had a notion of but never expected to ever actually encounter. And now here he was his Tropius fruit in his lap. Snowy mountains had always seemed so far removed from Druag (he vaguely remembered that perhaps his mother's aunt had hatched on Mt. Coronet but that was a different matter), and now here across from him sat a fellow who had been in such a place and came back. Castiel was truly an amazing individual, and the comparison with Druag's own state of being gave the voice in his head an increase in volume.

Druag, you miserable nothing. And here you thought you were a proud Dragon before the accident: you were just as much an ignorant beast then as you are now. This fellow has been places you can't even fathom. Your co-workers understand things you can't even conceive. Face up, Druag. You don't belong here.

You simple oaf.

Druag had been eating some of the cake Castiel had referred to when his monologue gave him the cognitive equivalent of an unprovoked kick to the groin. The cake went down rougher than Druag would have liked, and he grunted a little, stroking his throat. "Erhem," he said, recovering quickly and setting the box to one side. He took his cane and got up, taking the cup out of the box. "Went down the wrong pipe there, I think. I'll get myself some of that stuff you got there, wash it down a little."

He stepped over to the counter and poured some of the stuff into his cup. It smelled sweet and was rather thin, but darker than Druag had ever seen simple Berry Juice. He drank a few gulps to clean out his throat before topping his cup off and saying over his shoulder: "I think I could find a cup for you, Mr. Castiel, if you want some of this while I'm up." He raised his voice a little and made it a general question, emboldened by the need to be doing or saying something to keep those cutting thoughts from bleeding him dry. "Anyone want me to pour them some of this while I'm at it?"

Gabriel couldn't help but tense up a bit at the sight of the blubbery fish himself. Crud, that kid probably heard everything that he and Silver and Blair had been discussing. He would have heard the smack talk that Gabriel had brought down on Errol's mother. The only thing left was to figure out what Errol was trying to do. Obviously the fish must have heard them, or else he wouldn't have come over to sit with them. Why was he playing dumb? Was he just trying to lure Gabriel into a false sense of security and then smugly tattle on him? Gabriel wasn't going to be giving him more fuel for the fire.

The Weavile just shrugged and leaned back, quite finished with his food at this point. "Eh, it was nothing. It's just something that Silver can relate to, that's all." He eyed the box that Errol had brought over and smirked, "So, forgot this day's breakfast, huh?" He asked. He noticed that whenever he would head out with the others to get whatever food they wished for the day Errol wouldn't really follow. In fact, the kid wouldn't even mention being hungry or the like. Gabriel figured that every morning dear old mommy would force some food down his gullet. Today she must have forgotten to give him something. The mere thought caused Gabriel to chuckle a bit, but only a bit. He didn't want to cause Errol to think anything of the laugh.

"So, going to stay on the counter and continue to be the greeter?" He asked the fish. "Such a job suits you splendidly."

Gabriel didn't bother to listen to Errol's eventual answer, turning his head as Castiel addressed them all with his plans. Good, Gabriel didn't want to be involved with that anyways. He would have sucked majorly at that, he knew that much. However the comment about the black aprijuice caught Gabriel off guard. He eyed the juice and figured that it wouldn't hurt to try. Sure, it looked like tar to the Weavile, but it wouldn't taste like tar… right?

"Sure, I'll get some." Gabriel said as he stood up and made his way from Errol and Silver. He figured that at least showing some volunteerism from his side would make Castiel happy. He went up and grabbed a glass, poured himself some, and glanced down at the black substance before he parted his lips and drank a bit of it. It actually wasn't that bad, but it also wasn't that good. Of course he couldn't just take one sip, else Castiel would more than likely be plenty mad. Instead he took a few more gulps and swished it about in his mouth for a bit. He looked over at Castiel, about ready to ask him a question when he saw out of the corner of his eye that Druag was staring at him.

And not JUST staring, but literally STARING. Almost looking as if the dragon wanted to rip his head right off of his shoulders. Gabriel momentarily forgot his query as he stood there, not wanting to turn his head to acknowledge the dragon, but also not wanting to snap it away. He couldn't let that brute know that he had seen his glare. He could feel just a tad of sweat starting to form along his brow when the glare turned away. He would have to keep an eye on his back, it seemed. "Um, Castiel." He spoke to his boss, "I was wondering if I could look at some books we have here. There are some in the back room, right? I mean, I've looked through a few but given we're trying to sell things, maybe it would help if I knew a few of the spell names, just so I can entice customers or something."

The Mismagius honed his gaze on the Weavile. He had a curious look in his eyes.

"Spells?" Castiel asked, repeating the word as if it was foreign. "I'm not sure what you're on about," he nonchalantly dismissed, though he glanced out of the corner of his eye as a temporary deflection. "But, as I know you know since you aren't blind, the back wall is filled nearly from floor to ceiling with a grand collection of texts. Yes, everything from novels and tomes on all sorts of historical, mythical, eccentric, and superstitious material--you can find on the back wall. But why do you ask? Do you want to know a little factoid? You know, I'm brimming with knowledge. Every single book on that shelf I've had the pleasure of reading at least once." His eyes seemed to beam at the prospect of turning the Weavile's inquiry into a teachable moment. "If you have a question about a subject, I likely know a little something about it! I probably remember it; I'm almost certain!"

Gabriel smiled at that. Yes, he was already buttering up the boss. That was good. "Sure. I wouldn't mind listening." He said, "So, what sort of things do you know? Any magic that can cause hurricanes? Or see into the future? Or do you know about how magic works?" He asked eagerly.

Castiel couldn't help but laugh aloud at the Weavile's questions. To him, they sounded so juvenile. "There's no such thing as magic." He did not mince words when in one sentence, the Ghost derisively disillusioned his audience. "We're Pokemon. We have inherent and innate abilities, and some types are more adept in communicating with or imitating the extrasensory or the unearthly. The three types that come to mind, of course, are the Psychic-, the Ghost-, and the Fairy-type. And, I suppose, the Dark type has its moments as well. We are not so much magical as we have have an understanding of and a mastery of our metaphysical abilities--Psychics have an uncanny ability through either keen intelligence or intuition to predict or conclude results and actions, some of them even manipulating reality with their power. Ghosts like myself are attuned to frequencies and planes of alternate existences and can call upon these very essences of power and spirit to do our bidding. And Fairies, well, they are more so preternatural, I find. This is to say, when they aren't trying to manipulate your emotions, their powers focus on the wonder of life and nature, dealing with the natural realm by indirectly engaging it, and it's rather mystifying.

"In short," he began to conclude the lecture, "Psychics methodically deal with the mind to the point that it can influence matter. Ghosts deal with the essence of spirit and planes of supernatural existence, and Fairies draw power from the energies of personality and the natural. And Dark types are, well, some could say they're a physical kin to Ghostly forces, but the focus is on a more sinister punishment in the absolute immediate than anything… greater than themselves."
After blurting that out to a Weavile with an Absol in the room, he quickly chased down his own comment. "Just in general. Not all Dark types are that way of course, but purely speaking, those who really embody the typing embrace everything that aspect has to give and whatnot.

"But really, if you want to believe in magic, I suppose you could say that we as a race are magical in ourselves, of course."

Gabriel couldn't help but glance back slightly at Blair, mostly to see if she heard what Castiel said. Though what Castiel said about dark types didn't cause Gabriel to flinch. He had heard it all before from various mon. He had always been told that his inner darkness from his genes caused him to skulk around in the shadows more. This just justified those arguments ten fold now. "I see… so, basically, magic isn't real. Well, since ghosts, psychics, and fairies are like that, does that mean those will be the only customers we'll see then?"

"My shop attracts a variety of customers," Castiel replied. "Although admittedly, the theme tends to attract marginally more Ghost, Psychic, and Dark types, but especially during evening hours. And a lot of Fairy types tend to deal business with their own, so I don't expect to see one step through my doors too often. Mind you, I don't have a grudge about it. Most types have an affinity for their own kind, because who else understands your needs as well as your kin?"

"True." Gabriel agreed. "Well then, how should I go about selling stuff then? Exaggerate?"

Castiel cranked his head to the side at that, his stare completely unconvinced. "Gabriel, please. Our customers aren't idiots. Sell our products based on their merits. Don't lie."

The Mismagius then righted his posture before finishing off. "But you are permitted to… present a product as more… desirable. You think I'd get anywhere selling charms if I didn't, you know, polish them up a bit, if you get my drift?" He quietly chuckled at that, a glimpse of imp in his eye. "And herbal medicine isn't all that bitter if you play down the flavor, right? And that ouija board won't disturb any wrathful undead, yeah?"

He cleared his throat. "Just be smart about sales, is all."

Gabriel's eyes glimmered at that, "Oh, I'll be smart alright."
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