1994-09-15: Feather of Ma'at


Wade_icon.gif Septima_icon.gif

Scene Title Feather of Ma'at
Synopsis A stroll down Knockturn Alley.
Date September 15, 1994
Watch For A Death Eater!
Chronology Nothing important
Logger Wade


[LDN] - Knockturn Alley
Are you certain you want to go this way? Dangerous dealings are known to go on in this narrow, dingy alleyway. Just as you enter, there's a shop selling poisonous candles with an old wooden sign hanging above it that reads, 'Knockturn Alley'. Across the alley is another shop with a display of shrunken heads in the window. A couple of doors down is a large cage filled with huge black spiders crawling over each other. Just as with Diagon Alley there are a few street vendors to be found, but from the looks of them, it's questionable as to how close you want to get in order to see what they're selling.

A quiet day in Knockturn Alley. On this day, it receives a visitor which it has not had in a long time. Septima Falton. Though her usual appearance is that of wearing a dress, matching jacket, and high-heeled shoes, she is wearing something a bit less fancy today. She wears a hooded robe. Not anything of the Death Eater stance, but just a darker robe with a hood, as one would see with many in this place. With hood only on part way, as to allow people to still see her face, she makes her way along the narrowed street, searching for that one vendor that she requires.

Wade, on the other hand, appears as he always does. Neat, obvious, no worry or hurry to his posture or step. He's perched along the alleyway, having placed himself next to one of the smaller stores in the wall and a dozen or so vendors, attention focused on his hands at this very moment. He holds a book, triangular item bound up in metal, pages blowing back and forth of their own accord in hands. Eyes seem to be trying to follow the torrent of text inside, fingers clamped tightly to the sides to ensure it doesn't somehow become any more lively.

Septima pauses as she nears Wade's location, eyes affixed on the book that his hands hold. She stares down at it. She can't help but think that it seems so unusual. "Do you…require any assistance with that book, sir?" Comes her slow, collected voice. "Certainly it cannot be easy to read such a thing when the pages move so quickly back and forth."

When Wade's attention is taken by Septima the book jumps to attention, taking opportunity to slam itself shut like a bear trap, clamping down over its pages with only a second for the man holding it to reposition fingers. There's a small pause, glance down, then back toward the woman again. "Reading isn't the problem." Voice is faint, if genial. There's a squint of pale eyes after, question of, "We've met, haven't we?"

Septima chuckles softly as she looks at the book. "Ah, it has a mind of it's own. Those books are the most difficult. The trick is always to find it's soft spot, and immobilize it from there." Is said quietly. She looks from the book to Wade. "No, we have not met, sir. I am just another person in this alley caught in interest by your book."

"That's true with everything, isn't it?" There's some tiny inflection of humor in reply, Wade giving small nod as fingers clamp tightly over the edges of the object in hands. "I'm unsure of where exactly I should start on it, at the moment. It was more of an impulsive buy." Her other reply just draws a curious few wrinkles to his face, head tilting as if to better examine that partially concealed face. It's not a shy gesture, almost invasive.

Septima nods ever so slightly. "What is the subject matter of the book?" Comes the seemingly obvious answer. She doesn't make any move to prevent Wade from seeing her face, nor does she make any moves to allow it to be more clear.

"Animals." Probably not any normal kind, judging from the look and where he happens to be holding it. The title of the text itself is scratched out, long gashes having rendered any letters or designs that once adorned the cover. Wade's inspection is continued for just a moment, the man drawing backward with little quirk of lips, making small noise of understanding. "And what are you shopping for? Or is that something we don't share?"

Septima snorts softly. "Animals?" Well now, there's a topic everyone loves. She gazes at the book for a few more moments before back up to Wade. "Whoever knows what the other is buying in a place such as this, eh? We are all searching for something…something to fill a void, something to complete the essence of whatever we need."

"Blood of the sphinx, specifically." That crumb of information is offered up as he takes another glance down toward his text, the thing eventually squeezed under one arm, held tight and pressed firmly to side should it struggle. "I'm working on not sleeping." He steps then, takes glance back toward the woman. "But, stranger, if you're going my way we might find something that'll pique both our interests. This place is always good for that."

A small smile graces the lips of Septima. "The blood of the sphinx? How curious indeed." She says softly. "Well, I am sure that you will figure out how to get all forms of information out of there in short working order, then. Just answer a riddle and you should be fine." Comes the reply. He steps softly follow Wade's. "I am indeed going in your direction, and I might just join you if you are amenable."

"I'm afraid I'm not dressed properly, but the company would be pleasant. So few people want to talk here." It's another joke, dim sound of amusement parting from the man's lips as he steps. It's an easy pace, enough that the other can keep up, or linger behind as she pleases. "Blood," He mentions, returning to previous subject, "Is a precious commodity, both to the user and the owner. I've always though it was funny."

Septima shakes her head. "Ah, but you are dressed wonderfully." Comes the gentle voice from the quasi-hooded woman. "So few wish to talk here, but then so few come here unless they have no other choice. And when most see a person…dressed such as yourself," she says with a hint of amusement, "They tend not to wish to talk to you. One dressed in such clothing intimidate most here. Make them believe you are saying that you are better than they."

Another wry puff of laughter comes at those words from the woman, small shake of head made as Wade proceeds onward. Down a corner, along past several more stalls and vendors. "What if I am?" It's a half-serious reply he gives back, addition of, "Sometimes I dress the part, for this. Sometimes I don't attract the attention I'd like. I don't always remember to change when I finish my real work."

Septima giggles lightly along with the man. "Ah, but what makes you so sure, my dear? You certainly dress the part, but can you act the part? Most people who believe they are better than those here do not take the time to spend their time here. They get all they need from elsewhere, no?" She says quietly. "Oh? And what is it that you do for your 'real' work?"

"Oh no," He mentions, "They aren't better for avoiding it. Sweeping it under the rug, or turning their face from the nasty thing that's growing in their back yard." Another smile, fleeting gesture as another corner is rounded. "This place is necessary. It's wonderful, even. Brilliant. I'm not any better in that way. Other ways, maybe."

"This place is wonderful for all your darker, everyday needs as opposed to…the opposite." Septima says lightly. "Anything that is not mainstream can be found here, certainly. Much useful information can be gathered, and objects whose origins are unknown but find themselves in peoples homes can be found here."

"Those are my favorite, the last." A nod with that, for emphasis. "It's why I come here the most. They're like puzzles, all waiting a careful eye to unravel their secrets." A pause. "A shame most of them are so unpleasant." He's slowing now, approaching another one of those small shops along the way. Several figures cluster outside, buyer and shopped alike, crowd that's forced through with nudge of elbows. "Why do you think they're afraid of it"

Septima smiles softly and nods. "Puzzles can be unpleasant and harmful at times. You must be careful with them." She says with a nod. "Be sure that they don't capture anything but your interest." She says softly. A furrowed brow is made as she stares upon the crowd. "Curious. I don't know. I am not familiar with that shop."

"Ingredients," Wade offers in passing. He doesn't stop though, merely pays small glance toward shapes and faces. Not for long. "Very careful, though," He remarks to topic of puzzles. "Sometimes, though, we can't avoid danger in our lives. I'm told it's even exciting sometimes." Smile curves at his lips again, eyes moving toward the woman at his side. "We're here, after all, are we not?"

Septima smiles softly. "Danger is only as exciting as it does not exceed to the point of death. Once that occurs, well…that is another story all together, as I hear it." She says with a small nod.

"Death is an unfortunate roadblock." He makes small assent, continues for several minutes before the man begins to slow again. There's nothing special this time, no show or shop of significance. Still, he seems to be working on coming to a halt, making addition of, "One that's very, very difficult to ignore."

Septima tilts her head slightly. "Death is not a roadblock, exactly, as much as it is…oh, how to put it…as it is a road towards a new journey." She sighs softly. "There have been, in the past, those who consider death to be an exceptional beauty. But I have not heard of such people in a blue moon."

"It is." There's a stretch of silence from the man, some time to turn thoughts over in head before he offers up clarification. "Beautiful, and terrible, and absolutely fascinating. It's one of those questions that we've grasped at since our creation." Eyes slant toward his companion, Wade making small arc of hand at his side. "What it really is no one may ever know. Beginning or end, it's impossible to tell."

"Impossible to tell only as much as we question. As soon as we begin to question the matter of death and what happens to us upon death, do we realize how little we know and shall ever know." Comes the response from the woman. Septima considers the subject matter again. "We are told that from the day we are born, we begin to die. But if that is the case, why live at all?"

"To live, to struggle, to toil. To ensure that when your soul is put to the scale it weighs less than the feather on the other side." Suggestions are parceled out, Wade eventually coming to set himself against one of the alleyway walls. "I prefer this: We don't have to die." It's hard to tell if this one is a joke, though he seems serious enough despite lingering grin.

Septima raises an eyebrow at the last statement. "We…don't have to die? The Death Eater's held much a similar attitude. As did He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Though they say that He was so powerful that he would never die, and that he is in fact not dead even now."

"They say." He assents. "People still follow his ideals, draw his mark." A moment of consideration, murmur of, "I'll tell you this: If He truly is alive," The man's lips thin, making one short-lived and pensive line. "He's more awesome than I even imagined. More than any of us did. If he really has returned from the dead, he's become something more than most of us could comprehend."

Little does the man know that the one he talks to believes this more than anything. Septima nods. "Only time shall really tell." It has told, and the signs are arriving from all around. "What will you do, if he is still alive? Will you fight for your freedom? Will you serve him, or oppose him?"

"My freedom?" There's a small laugh at that, genial shake of her afterward. "If it's myself directly, I wouldn't have a choice. For sides," Small pause. "Sides are difficult. I'll say this: If a man can defy death itself, who am I to argue? A man like that would be a tiny God." Fleeting smiel touches his face, the man pushing himself from his perch afterward, mentioning, "But, that's neither here nor there. I should, perhaps, finish the last of my errands. Shall we talk again sometime? It was pleasent enough."

Septima bows her head ever so slightly. "The choice, of course, ends up yours." She smiles softly, seeming happy with his response, one way or another. "Perhaps we shall talk again sometime, sir. Perhaps." She says softly to him. "Good day to you, then."

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