{OPEN} All You Need Is Your Own Imagination ✨

[coyandcryptic]

CHARACTERS: Magnus Bane and You
LOCATIONS: Bespoke
WARNINGS: Gratuitous magic
SUMMARY: The grand opening of Magnus Bane's new shop, a combination tailor's and apothecary's for all your custom-made needs!



He's met a lot of people in Cadelle, people who could use a night of dreamless sleep, or clarity of thought, or to open (or close) the doors of memory. Some people are here for answers, others to find a little peace. Magnus has always been drawn toward helping. It hadn't been a dream of his to own a little shop, but this is just the kind of place that needs a little shop, selling little solutions. And while he's at it, why not help the citizens and guests of Cadelle look as well as feel their absolute best?

In the end, the lion's share of the work had been collecting enough potions ingredients to stock the shop. Finding the premises, tidying it up, decorating and getting everything ready for his clientele? That had been easy in comparison. It had taken him longer than he'd realized, almost a month, but he'd needed the distraction and finally today Bespoke is open for business. A long counter runs down the center of the store, a few dress dummies on the left side and a few bubbling cauldrons on the right. Measuring tapes, scissors, and spools of thread decorate one wall, another is full of tiny shelves full of tinier jars of ingredients. The sign on the window is written in gold:

BESPOKE
Alchemy & Alterations
Custom-brewed potions | Custom-altered outfits

There's a bell above the door and everything. And, since it's the grand opening, an army of little cocktails (both alcoholic and non) in tiny multicolored glasses line the center counter, and all the end tables in the place have trays of finger foods. Another time there might be a housewarming party to celebrate his new loft above the store, but a grand opening is enough work for one day. Magnus himself is flitting from one end of the shop to the other, fresh bright blue streaks in his hair to match the blue brocade of his vest, and ensuring everyone has what they need. Stop in and see what all the custom-made fun is about!

[Brackets or prose, hit me up on voxmyriad with questions or ideas!]

Comments

♥~

[sororis]

Izzy is doing her best to strut around like a living model, and she is, wearing a dress that Magnus most definitely improved upon. She's been there all morning (and here and there in the days before as needed) helping set up, taste testing everything, and possible rearranging the nick knacks, helpfully or otherwise.

After making the rounds for a while she seeks Magnus out during a lull, she doesn't want to distract him from customers, of course. She slides up beside him and loops her arm through his, sets her hand on his bicep and surveys the storefront.

"I think it's going well, Mr. Bane, don't you?"

♥!

[coyandcryptic]

In between all the running around, Magnus has been vaguely aware that Isabelle has been doing splendidly, looking amazing in the dress he'd tailored for her just that day, making conversation and encouraging people to sign up for consultation appointments later in the week to make sure he isn't swamped that day.

He turns with his customer smile on, and it softens into relief when he sees it's her.

"Why, Ms. Lightwood, you still look stunning." He squeezes her arm. "I can't thank you enough for looking so lovely and being so personable. I should hire you as a hostess."

[sororis]

“Why thank you, magical, isn't it?” she says with a grin, gesturing to the dress and batting her eyelashes before returning to a more natural expression and less of a saleswoman. She leans a little more into him for just a moment.

“You should hire me,” she agrees, “You could actually afford me,” she declares, matter-of-fact, and pats his arm gently. She'd continue to “work” for him absolutely for free, however, if by “free” she meant the occasional new outfit (and she does). She does have a job prospect or two in mind, however, and Magnus might just be one of the first people she tells. Just not yet.

“I'd let you pay me in whatever you put in that little pink drink.”

[coyandcryptic]

"Grenadine?" Magnus says innocently, as though that's the only thing that could make the little pink drink taste like that. "You would make a delightful addition to the shop." He glances around thoughtfully, taking in the two halves of his new business. He's the one who will be making the potions, and the alterations for that matter, but...

"I have no idea what kind of business I'm going to have, but some of the potions on offer will need attention while I'm brewing them and it would be a relief to have someone watching the shop," he continues. "Would you like to be the someone, every so often?"

[sororis]

She rolls her eyes at his attempted innocence, but she's immediately back to all-smiles. “I like it here,” she says, probably unnecessary, considering she's spent enough time here to make it obvious. “Besides, I would never leave a friend in need. And you clearly need me.”

Magnus needs no such thing, but here, given the time without crises, she's finally gotten the chance to really get to know him, and more than ever, he's a friend she's unwilling to lose. And if that means strutting around in unique couture and sipping colorful drink and occasionally keeping an eye on potions, she's willing to suffer it all for this friendship.

“My evenings might be a little... spoken for. But let me know when you need me.”

[shitmagnet]

Holy shit. Goth kid wasn't joking about the goddamned cauldrons. The jingle of the bell when Frank walked in that he reached up to try and silence couldn't hold his attention when his eyes went straight to the bubbles in the pot.

The small offerings of food and drinks are met with Frank's suspicious eyes, and after mentally taking note of how many steps he would need to get to all the possible entry and exit points in the store, he tries to blend into the shadows by staying quietly in the corner. Mostly unsuccessfully given the size of the store and how... not dull everyone else was, in colour and in personality, but you had to give him some brownie points for trying.

Dark rings under his eyes and the scent of coffee clinging to him, not even a queer eye can save the out-of-place soldier as Frank pads silently into the lion's den, positioning himself strategically behind a flamboyantly overdressed mannequin well out of the potential detonation zone of glitter.

[coyandcryptic]

Try to hide if you must, no one hides from Magnus for long. He has an eye for wallflowers. And as soon as he spots Frank lurking behind the mannequin, he remembers not only what their conversation had been about, but the potion that had been suggested and eventually turned down. Dreamless sleep, it seems, hasn't been found, at least not yet. Luckily, now that he has all the ingredients, it's much more easily given.

He gracefully extricates himself from conversation and moves in that direction when most of the attention in the room is on Isabelle showing off the dress he'd made for her. "Hello again, stranger," he says quietly, taking in all the signs of a terrible night's sleep. "Change of heart?"

[shitmagnet]

"Frank," the soldier corrects him. They're not really strangers anymore despite not really being friends either. His dark, steely gaze darts around the store before settling back on Magnus again. The lace and tartan patterns don't hold his interest - not when there's other weird shit going on.

"Congrats. New place. S'nice." So, avoiding the topic of sleep then. For now at least.

[coyandcryptic]

"Frank," Magnus repeats with a smile. It's progress. He looks around the shop with pride in a job well done, and reaches out to adjust the hang of a garment on a mannequin. "Thank you. I started working on it just after we met, actually, our conversation helped convince me. People just need these sorts of things, and if I can offer them, I really should."

Speaking of. He nods at the potion side of the shop. "I really could have just the thing for you now, if you're still interested. I don't need to know a thing about what sorts of dreams you're having to know dreams can be very unhelpful."

[shitmagnet]

"Uh huh." He sounds like he's not listening even though he was. He's just not sure what 'these sorts of things' entail. Were they still talking about the shawls or are they back on the topic of homebrew again?

Frank casts a furtive glance at those homebrews and glances back at Magnus before sighing. He wants to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't know honestly what he wants. It sounds too good to be true and he just can't accept it for what it is.

"I'll pass on the food poisoning thanks," he quips instead.

[ischyros]

Diana knows very little about custom brewed potions but she is very fond of custom altered outfits and the idea of having a bespoke tailor at her beck and call (to a certain degree, anyway) appeals. What appeals even more is that it's Magnus, whom she's come to think of as a friend over the last few weeks. They have a similar taste in what passes for fine things and she likes spending time with him even if it's just to talk about antiquities and art.

There's no way she wouldn't be at the opening of his new business and after grabbing a cocktail, she finds her way over to the proprietor and host.

"This is absolutely wonderful, Magnus. Truly wonderful."

[coyandcryptic]

There have been more people in and out than Magnus had even hoped for, and it's kept him busy. Not so busy that he can't glance over at the door every time the bell jingles, just to make sure he doesn't miss someone arrive, but she finds him before he can find her. It's a good thing, at least, but she's a welcome sight and he lights up when she appears. Anyone long-lived is a welcome discovery, and their shared interests and experiences have made them fast friends.

"Diana! Thank you, I'm so glad you could stop by and see what I've been up to," he says, leaning forward to air-kiss both her cheeks. "Now you see why I was so insistent on getting as many of those flowers as I could."

[ischyros]

"Yes, absolutely," Diana says. She looks around, fascinated by all the stoppered bottles lined up on shelves and the racks of fabrics and clothes. It's a strange juxtaposition, to be sure, but she likes it. She thinks she'll spend a lot of time here at Bespoke.

"It looks wonderful, Magnus. Is there anything I can do to help with the opening? My hands are all yours if you need them."

[coyandcryptic]

"Oh, button, aren't you sweet. What you can do is let me show you around," Magnus answers decisively as he puts her hand through his arm. It is a strange combination, but he'd spent so much time wondering which of his specialties the city needed more, it had taken that long to work out that what he really ought to do was bring both of them.

"My hope is that I'll be able to fit people's clothes to them while they're here, but most potions will need a little more time than a one-hour visit. I want to make sure they'll only have an effect on the person buying them."

[ischyros]

Diana has never really had a nickname before but the endearment from Magnus doesn't bother her one bit. On the contrary, it's familiar and intimate in a way she thoroughly enjoys. She looks around the shop with wide eyes, wondering what each of the stoppered bottles could possibly contain.

"I'm no chemist, so what do your potions do? I'm imagining you can do all sorts of things with a taste of one of them, yes?"

on wishing well day

[istoriografos]

What better time to go into the new store that advertises custom altered outfits than on a day Nate, apparently, can't keep his clothes on?

It must be a sign. And look, Nate doesn't believe in fate, but an hour ago he didn't believe in magic either, and look at him now, walking around in the tightest leather pants he's ever encountered in his entire life, and without a shirt on. And with whatever is this oil that just won't wipe off, no matter how hard he tries. So okay, maybe he can't really deny magic, right now, and this place looks exactly like any magic shop he's ever seen in movies so. Maybe they'll be able to help him. He's got to have some hope, somewhere.

The bell ding-a-lings as he steps into the store, the dim lights seeming to make him even more reflective than he was when outside. He sighs, once more trying to wipe off the baby oil, to no avail. Seriously, he's never making another wish, ever again. Ever. Ever.

"Hello?"

He steps further into the place, looking around with interest. It's completely unlike anything he's ever seen before, after all. When he finally sees someone, he gestures at himself, a grimace on his face. "So, I'm in a bit of a predicament..."

[coyandcryptic]

"Hello!" Magnus calls from the second floor work room where he's finishing up an alteration. He's still carrying the dress, a vivid green little number that deserves its time in the spotlight at the Deviant, as he circles down the spiral staircase to the shop, catches sight of his customer, and stops short.

Oh. Well then. "Hello indeed," he says, blinking a few times before remembering he runs a business and pulling himself together. "I'm sorry, you may need to be more specific. Which part of this—" he gestures to all of Nate "—exactly is the predicament? I admit, this is more of an evening look..."

[istoriografos]

If you thought Nathaniel Heywood wasn't capable of fiercely blushing, well, you'd be wrong. Because he is. Sure, most of the looks he's been getting have been appreciative, but they've also been sort of covert, at least trying to be discreet. This guy? Is not even pretending. He is openly looking Nate up and down.

Nate looks down at himself, then looks back up. He's going to at least try to own it. Shoulders back, head held high. If he's going to be stuck like this, well then, let people stare. He's got a great set of abs, he works out for it, and the wishing well didn't even think he needed anything else but baby oil to be sexy. Which means... he's sexy?

Wishes are confusing.

"Well, see, all of it? Let's just say that I'm not the kind of guy to walk around half naked, and even less in leather pants. These are really tight, by the way, how do you even -"

Cue Nate trying to adjust himself, grimacing as he does. These pants are really uncomfortable, how do people like these?

"I'm more of an elbow patches and comfortable jeans guy, you know? But every time I put on clothes, they just disappear. Now, if I was to get a job at Lucky Eights, sure I'd be all for it, but I don't think they're going to let me on campus dressed like this."

[coyandcryptic]

He works with clothes, he's allowed to look someone up and down, how else is he going to determine what they need? And what Nate needs is pants that fit a little more forgivingly, apparently, not to mention a shirt—

Uh oh. "They just disappear? Magically?" Magnus puts a hand on his hip with an aggrieved sigh. "What exactly did you wish for?" he asks, sounding resigned. He'd already tried to help Gamora with her highly tragic camo-fabric problem to no avail, but he has to try.

[istoriografos]

Ahhhh, here comes the question he's been dreading. He's had to say the words so many times already it's like they've lost all meaning, feeling heavy on his tongue. He sighs, shoulders dropping a little.

"I wished to be sexy," he says, low, cheeks flushing a little more. "I didn't think it was going to work, so I didn't think about it much."

At least, that's true. After all, if he thought things twice before doing them, he probably wouldn't fit with the Legends...

[creatio]

( Already, Clary knows she'll be spending a lot of time in Bespoke. The whole building feels exactly like Magnus does - vitality and life, magic and mystery, and beneath all that something comforting, something that feels like home. She's always been fascinated by what he can do, the same way she has been about who he is, and it's already sinking into the shop, becoming part of the gold thread and little bottles.

And the cocktails.

Clary likes the cocktails.

But for now she abandons her drink in favour of tracking down the man himself. It's not hard, and she's quick to fling her arms around his neck, to pull him in a hug and press a kiss to his cheek. That's what she really likes about Cadelle. The opportunity to do friendship right. )

This place is amazing. I'm coming here any time I need a dress.

[coyandcryptic]

[Not only has Magnus worked hard at the stock for his shop, he's worked hard at the look: dramatic lighting, plenty of sparkle, something magical about it all. He's made time for every customer who's stopped by today, but his face fairly lights up when he catches sight of that distinctive red tumble of hair.

When he makes it over to her, he leans down immediately to receive that cheek-kiss and give her one of her own, with a tight hug in return.]

Clary! You sweetheart, thank you for coming, I expect you to make good on that promise. Do you really like it? I wasn't sure, but I think this is going to work out very well.

[creatio]

I will. Because I trust you more than I trust Kimberly and Izzy. Their combined forces are terrifying.

( If they had their way, Clary would be all boob-y and wear a terrible mix of black and pink. It would clash with her hair. She would die of shame. But Magnus is always stylish, so she's looking forward to an opportunity to enlist him. )

Honestly? It's amazing. Who doesn't need good clothes? There's a party like every other day around here. And potions! ( One day she is going to figure out all the potions. It'll be good. ) You have a hangover cure one, right? Because you'd make a killing and be the richest man here.

[coyandcryptic]

[By now he's picked up two glasses and handed her one, but pardon him while he almost snorts his own as he takes a sip. Clary would just about drown in the fashion sense of those two, even if each works quite well for the individual.] Oh, I understand entirely. Don't worry, your sartorial future is safe with me.

[Putting her arm through his, he walks her to the potion side of the store, and a rack of vials filled with a clear liquid that seems to sparkle like there's sunlight on them.] Of course I have a hangover cure. In several strengths, from "I shouldn't have had that last glass of wine the night before my presentation" to "I might as well own the bar now."

[creatio]

Good. Also no black leather. Do you know how nice it is to not have to wear tactical gear every day? I'm allowed to wear colour again, it's great.

( She's missed being more herself. A little softer around the edges. Thankfully there are zero fights around here.

Taking a sip of her drink, she lets him lead her to the potions, laughing a little as he explains them. ) You should have a delivery service. I bet there's a speedster around here somewhere. Or Baby could do it. He's fast. ( Then, mischievously. ) He's been teaching me to drive. Faster, I mean. Luke taught me first.