+James supposed that this latest disaster meant that they'd be staying awhile longer. It was a frustrating proposition. Not the sort of thing that he was at all excited about. As he made his way through the downtown district his pace was slowed when the whisper of something magical caught his attention. His steps slowed and a finger raised to push at the center of his glasses where they were always sliding down the bridge of his nose. +
+The center of his palms felt warm, a heated sensation that echoed across his skin as he moved towards the sense of magic he had felt. Mumbling something to himself about the inconvenient street grid of the city he turned a corner and came face to window with a small storefront. Turning his head upwards he looked at the sign above the door and it caused a slight grimace to cross his features.+
+Pushing at the door to the store he stepped inside, the bell announcing his arrival. Yet even without the bell ringing he was willing to bet that the owner of the shop would recognize his entry. Liked could not help but recognize like, and though their powers were different the principle origin roots were the same. But that was a matter of history so long forgotten that even Nike's ancient texts mentioned it only vaguely. +
+The man who had entered the store looked around forty-five, his hair a light brown that was getting whispy at the edges. His glasses had thin frames whose arms curled on delicate stems around his ears and his clothes were nicely made but plain by the standards of most who lived in New Orleans. Overall he was altogether unforgettable. Except for what whispered inside him and through his blood. That was a rather more intriguing signpost.+
James was in the process of reading an extremely ancient text in the seat on the raised platform that housed his cash wrap. The leather was faded and bore no title. He was dressed in the business casual he normally wore while at work. When the door opened, the new entrant would be greeted by the immediate presence of the wizard's power, it hung thick in the air of those sensitive to such things. the room itself was welcoming. thirteen chairs where scattered around the large open area at the center of the store, fitting in between thirteen also randomly spaced columns , each engraved with different epic tales from many different cultures.
Blue eyes left his book immediately, seeing the man enter, like couldn’t help but sense like. The wizard bristled a little bit, another practitioner was in his store. But no other council members where in this part of the country, he knew that for an absolute fact. Blue eyes fell upon the older man and the wizard offered him a friendly smile, it was smart to play ignorant as long as you could.
"Good Afternoon!" he said in his friendly shop keep voice. the ancient text he was reading was placed carefully within the glass case that housed a few other incredibly old books.” Welcome, to A Real Page Turner... How may I assist you?" He was English. A Londoner, not really from all too high a station. But that wasn’t really the point.
"Hmmm, what?" +As James heard the mans voice he came around a bookshelf that obscured his view. Glasses were in his hand, lightly wiping their surface against the front of his shirt before slipping them fussily back onto his nose.+ "Oh...yes...the shop. I see."
+James Doyle, also from the London middle class, had a way of sounding quite above whatever he was doing. He also had a way of making the most simple thing seem a bit blundering and overly formal.+ "Lovely place. You're the proprietor?" +His head moved along the shelves as if he were thinking about whether he needed to be helped or not.+ "No, no I don't think so."
+Of course James wasn't part of the bloody Council. He wasn't a wizard. Had the other James mentioned the idea James Doyle would have scoffed at the very idea. The White Council had absolutely nothing to do with his kind, though of course the pompous prigs thought they were in charge of making the earth spin on its axis. But magic was more complex and what the Goddess gave she gave freely. It was his birthrite and no Council had anything to do with it.+
"Actually." +A light of curiousity sparked in the depths of his brown eyes like a flame licking behind them.+ "It's a lark really....I always check you understand, wherever I go, but no one ever has it. But...you wouldn't happen to have a copy of the Great Hymn to the Aten would you? Egyptian...Late Bronze Age."
James Cooper took the size of this man, he was a fellow londoner. of course his sizing up was done behind a mast of shop keeper's friendliness. Other factions, witches, wiccans, sorcerors and their ilk did not think highly of the council. Hell ever certain members of the council did not think highly of it, but the grouup was a nessicery body. without it, magic would go unchecked, and alot of people could get hurt, governments overthrown. no telling what sort of pandemonium would happen without the laws of magic.
Of course, James was not so militant, being as young as he was, and trained by a pariah of the council, he knew what the council looked like in its dark times. so he obeyed, and was a good wizard. but don't ask James cooper to spout the virtues of the council to an great degree.
I am indeed, he said starting forward and offering his hand. "James Cooper, at your service." if the other James where to take his hand, he would feel the magical buzz that eminated from the wizard, a tell tale sign of his status. to the book question he looked up in thought for a moment." I believe I have a copy. it's a transcribed one though, not an original inking... It's in my personal collection..." he paused to offer a grin." not really much of a market for non original copies... but if you're interested..." he trailed off as if to say, they could do business if he wanted it badly enough.
