Post by Azazel on May 9, 2006 20:57:46 GMT -5
Triangle Tunnel may have been destroyed, but there are still people who have goods to sell and need places where they can sell them. It is this precise need that brought Azazel to the Tunnel, for he had many many goods to sell and he knew that here there would always be buyers. He had been traveling around the world now for so long he no longer cared to remember, but that little fact was of no importance to him.
Time is a face on the water...
Yes, time is exactly that. The old wise men used to murmur that phrase to the young and to the stupid, and neither of the parties ever understood what it meant. But Azazel did, oh yes. It meant that it was time to get moving, and so he did. His last port of call was a little town in Estonia with a distinct name that he had somehow forgotten, and boy had he raised hell over there! Just thinking of his escapades caused a shiver to run down his spine. His skin tingled as though with some unknown sensation, and he uttered a disturbing titter as he walked into the spacious room he had recently purchased in the Tunnel.
It was larger than most of his shops tended to be, and a faint smell of lilac hung on the still air, perhaps masking the odor of decay which had filled most of this place. He was aware of the smell coming from the Tunnel, and it was indeed rather repulsive, and so he had taken the liberty of charming the entire immediate area. Perhaps then people would stop by the Tunnel instead of shirking away. Perhaps then the vandals would stop meeting here to do whatever it is they did. But really, it didn't matter so long as people of any kind came into his shop.
He always had something to sell, and the customer always wanted it too.
Behind came a silent train of luggage gliding serenely over the dusty floor. Azazel waved his hand and the dust disappeared leaving the room in a much cleaner state than before. He waved his other hand and the luggage opened itself, and a thousand different things began pouring out of the small, obviously enchanted containers, organizing themselves all around the shop. Items of all conceivable types began to line the shelves, and a few specialty items were concealed beneath layers of magical glass covered in opaque cloth. It took a good ten minutes for the bags to empty themselves (or so it seemed that they were empty), and by then he had cleared up the front desk and given it a more respectable appearance. He took out a small sign from on of the desk drawers and threw it at the window of the ship, which was magically charmed so that one could not see more than the immediate displays when looking from the outside. The sign positioned itself in between a splinter of wood and a strange bag made of unknown material, and if anyone passed by they would see that the sign conveyed, in bright red letters of easily discernible coloration, a message of welcome.
In fact, it said "OPEN".
Yes, Answered Prayers, a new kind of shop, was open at last.
Time is a face on the water...
Yes, time is exactly that. The old wise men used to murmur that phrase to the young and to the stupid, and neither of the parties ever understood what it meant. But Azazel did, oh yes. It meant that it was time to get moving, and so he did. His last port of call was a little town in Estonia with a distinct name that he had somehow forgotten, and boy had he raised hell over there! Just thinking of his escapades caused a shiver to run down his spine. His skin tingled as though with some unknown sensation, and he uttered a disturbing titter as he walked into the spacious room he had recently purchased in the Tunnel.
It was larger than most of his shops tended to be, and a faint smell of lilac hung on the still air, perhaps masking the odor of decay which had filled most of this place. He was aware of the smell coming from the Tunnel, and it was indeed rather repulsive, and so he had taken the liberty of charming the entire immediate area. Perhaps then people would stop by the Tunnel instead of shirking away. Perhaps then the vandals would stop meeting here to do whatever it is they did. But really, it didn't matter so long as people of any kind came into his shop.
He always had something to sell, and the customer always wanted it too.
Behind came a silent train of luggage gliding serenely over the dusty floor. Azazel waved his hand and the dust disappeared leaving the room in a much cleaner state than before. He waved his other hand and the luggage opened itself, and a thousand different things began pouring out of the small, obviously enchanted containers, organizing themselves all around the shop. Items of all conceivable types began to line the shelves, and a few specialty items were concealed beneath layers of magical glass covered in opaque cloth. It took a good ten minutes for the bags to empty themselves (or so it seemed that they were empty), and by then he had cleared up the front desk and given it a more respectable appearance. He took out a small sign from on of the desk drawers and threw it at the window of the ship, which was magically charmed so that one could not see more than the immediate displays when looking from the outside. The sign positioned itself in between a splinter of wood and a strange bag made of unknown material, and if anyone passed by they would see that the sign conveyed, in bright red letters of easily discernible coloration, a message of welcome.
In fact, it said "OPEN".
Yes, Answered Prayers, a new kind of shop, was open at last.