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Located in Diagon Alley’s North Side, Wiseacres prides itself in bringing you only the best equipment at a price no one can beat. The shop's name is emblazoned in gold letters on the large glass window to the left of the double doors. The window is home to a display of merchandise ranging from floo powder to fanged frisbees, star charts to sneakoscopes. In the middle of the display sits an advertising blackboard that every so often announces a sale.
Despite the wide array of products available, the interior of the shop is neatly organized. Upon walking in, the first things guests will notice is a display of telescopes ideal for Hogwarts students located just to the right of the doors. Maps and star/moon charts are rolled up and stacked on a rack beside the display. Games are displayed on a table toward the middle of the shop; concealers and detectors are shelved along the left wall. Several dark wood shelving units line the rest of the floor space. Each aisle is clearly marked with the type of merchandise it contains.
When you finish shopping, please make your way to the counter at the back of the shop. Here you can check out, inquire about gift wrapping or other services offered, and purchase breakable or expensive objects, such as rememberalls, hourglasses, crystal balls, and invisibility cloaks, kept in a locked glass cabinet behind the counter. In the market for a flying carpet? Those are kept behind a locked door next to the counter; only the shopkeeper can open it. Should anyone try to enter the showroom without permission, a caterwauling charm will sound. If you need help finding anything, the shopkeeper will be happy to assist!
Picture Development: 8 sickles per picture
Gift Wrapping: 2 sickles, 19 knuts
Equipment Repair: starts at 1 galleon, 15 sickles, 16 knuts (price depends on size of object & time to complete repairs)
*Multiple colors/shapes/designs available
**extra charge for customization
This shop is owned by an NPC and is a part of the IC Shopkeeper initiative. For details, please see this thread.
aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi ♥ slytherpuff princess
SPOILER!!:
Quote:
Originally Posted by FearlessLeader19
It was just one of those days where Dynah felt she needed a break from all the ups and downs, all the trials and fun that came with her profession as a professional Gobstones player and a budding violinist. And of course, her classes at WADA. Today, she was going to do something for herself that didn’t require much brainpower. The brain cells needed to rest, anyway.
The twenty year old randomly stepped into Wiseacres. Shops that carried a variety of products usually interested her the most so she would surely find something that tickled her fancy if she was lucky. Perhaps she’d get an early present for Ary; her younger brother was graduating from Hogwarts soon, after all. But what, she wondered as she rounded the corner to the aisle that carried Transportation, Timepieces and Tools.
Maybe a Floating Lantern?
“What’s the last pouch?” Dy asked, almost automatically, hearing words from another customer. The young woman suddenly caught herself. “Oh, I’m sorry!” She bopped her forehead with a palm. “Didn’t mean to interrupt you from your shopping."
Apolline paused mid-reach, fingers still resting lightly on the pouch, and turned just enough to properly register that, yes, someone was actually speaking to her. She'd forgotten people were...chatty...around these parts. Knockturn was transactional. Efficient. Blessedly silent. She preferred that.“The last pouch,” she confirmed, her voice even, as she turned her attention back to the shelf. “Floo powder, thankfully. Apparently far more sought-after than I assumed.”
She was still in a complaining sort of mood, and very nearly remarked on the absurdity of paying a full galleon for one pouch when one could, quite easily, might she add, acquire several for half the cost elsewhere. But she decided against it. That was information she shared sparingly. And she had no interest in sounding irritated over pocket change. A Selander-Dagworth did not squabble over galleons.
She wasn’t broke. No. Regardless of how promptly her potion clients remembered to pay their invoices, there were vaults. Family vaults. Plural. Kind of.
She simply preferred not to dip into them unless absolutely necessary, lest she give her parents any ideas about her ability to manage her own finances.
Anyway.
The pouch crinkled softly as she lifted it from the shelf, weighing it once in her hand before tucking it neatly into the crook of her arm and turning back to the girl.“You didn’t interrupt,” she said mildly, eyebrow raising as the woman bopped her forehead. “You asked an appropriate question.”
Her gaze flicked to the shelf behind her, then back, offering nothing so warm as a smile, but something that could charitably be interpreted as interest.“Are you browsing,” she asked, “or looking for something particular?”
She almost - almost - hoped it wasn’t floo powder.
Her own list was still long: an anti-burglary buzzer, dragon liver, new glass vials, possibly tea, if the day was generous. She had no desire to test the limits of her patience before noon.
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ Claimed by Bits ❤️ ~ Queen of Typos ❄ Magical Mosh Pit ❄
SPOILER!!: Apolline! <3
Quote:
Originally Posted by Thatonepottergirl
Apolline paused mid-reach, fingers still resting lightly on the pouch, and turned just enough to properly register that, yes, someone was actually speaking to her. She'd forgotten people were...chatty...around these parts. Knockturn was transactional. Efficient. Blessedly silent. She preferred that.“The last pouch,” she confirmed, her voice even, as she turned her attention back to the shelf. “Floo powder, thankfully. Apparently far more sought-after than I assumed.”
She was still in a complaining sort of mood, and very nearly remarked on the absurdity of paying a full galleon for one pouch when one could, quite easily, might she add, acquire several for half the cost elsewhere. But she decided against it. That was information she shared sparingly. And she had no interest in sounding irritated over pocket change. A Selander-Dagworth did not squabble over galleons.
She wasn’t broke. No. Regardless of how promptly her potion clients remembered to pay their invoices, there were vaults. Family vaults. Plural. Kind of.
She simply preferred not to dip into them unless absolutely necessary, lest she give her parents any ideas about her ability to manage her own finances.
Anyway.
The pouch crinkled softly as she lifted it from the shelf, weighing it once in her hand before tucking it neatly into the crook of her arm and turning back to the girl.“You didn’t interrupt,” she said mildly, eyebrow raising as the woman bopped her forehead. “You asked an appropriate question.”
Her gaze flicked to the shelf behind her, then back, offering nothing so warm as a smile, but something that could charitably be interpreted as interest.“Are you browsing,” she asked, “or looking for something particular?”
She almost - almost - hoped it wasn’t floo powder.
Her own list was still long: an anti-burglary buzzer, dragon liver, new glass vials, possibly tea, if the day was generous. She had no desire to test the limits of her patience before noon.
Dynah was chatty… yes. It came in handy for her budding career as a violinist and a dancer. It may also help with the professional Gobstones aspect of her life, since it came in handy when building team spirit. It seemed that the other woman didn’t mind her comment though, since she was addressing Dy. “Lots of persons still travel using Floo, I’m assuming. Or else for sticking their heads in fireplaces to communicate.”
To Dy, the words didn’t translate into any sort of complaining. She simply found it interesting that Floo Powder was a fast seller, something which she hadn’t realised before. One lived and one learned, correct? And the older woman might even be richer than Dy, her three siblings and their papas. But that wasn’t a competition. “Oh… that’s a relief to know. It would have been a pity if you were musing about something important but I butted in.”
The woman fascinated Dynah. In her quick judgement, she seemed… not quite unfriendly but somewhat reserved? Of course, those thoughts may be horrendously wrong but the younger woman decided that she would continue being friendly. “Yes, my younger brother is graduating soon from Hogwarts so I wanted to get him something nice. The trouble is, I’m not sure what. I did think about a Floating Lantern though. Any thoughts?”
Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Wiseacre's had always felt to Rajan like a place caught somewhere between a workshop and a riddle. Nothing merely sat on the shelves. Everything seemed to hum faintly with purpose, as though waiting to be understood.
He drifted first, almost by instinct, toward the display of wizard's chess sets. One board in particular had already begun a match without its players, ivory and obsidian pieces gliding forward with quiet, deliberate purpose. Rajan folded his arms, head tilting as he watched a knight take a bishop with a sharp, decisive crack.
"Predictable," he murmured under his breath, though there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. A new set would be useful. Elegant, even. But he already owned one, and while it lacked this level of theatrical enthusiasm, it had never lost to him without a fair fight. Upgrading felt indulgent.
A few steps over, a rack of Gobstones sets caught his attention. The polished stones gleamed innocently enough, each one labeled with increasingly grand claims of improved trajectory and enhanced spray radius.
Rajan picked up a small tin, turning it over in his hands with a measured expression. He wasn't sure how making them more obnoxious improved the game, but there still was a certain appeal in the chaos of it.
Wiseacre's had always felt to Rajan like a place caught somewhere between a workshop and a riddle. Nothing merely sat on the shelves. Everything seemed to hum faintly with purpose, as though waiting to be understood.
He drifted first, almost by instinct, toward the display of wizard's chess sets. One board in particular had already begun a match without its players, ivory and obsidian pieces gliding forward with quiet, deliberate purpose. Rajan folded his arms, head tilting as he watched a knight take a bishop with a sharp, decisive crack.
"Predictable," he murmured under his breath, though there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. A new set would be useful. Elegant, even. But he already owned one, and while it lacked this level of theatrical enthusiasm, it had never lost to him without a fair fight. Upgrading felt indulgent.
A few steps over, a rack of Gobstones sets caught his attention. The polished stones gleamed innocently enough, each one labeled with increasingly grand claims of improved trajectory and enhanced spray radius.
Rajan picked up a small tin, turning it over in his hands with a measured expression. He wasn't sure how making them more obnoxious improved the game, but there still was a certain appeal in the chaos of it.
River, the ever-curious and slightly scatterbrained wizard, found himself wandering through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, his excitement practically bubbling over like a cauldron of poorly brewed potion. His family might have been worried sick, but River, in true River fashion, was too busy marveling at the magical world around him to notice. He sauntered into Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, his unofficial headquarters for all things magical and shiny, grinning like he’d just discovered the Room of Requirement stocked with Butterbeer.
River’s eyes darted to the Wizards’ Chess sets, his inner strategist already plotting imaginary victories. He didn’t need a new set, but Merlin’s beard, he wanted one, especially if it came with a chance to crush someone equally skilled.
As he meandered through the shop, his attention shifted to Gobstones, though only briefly. River wasn’t one to linger when there were shelves full of magical curiosities begging for exploration. Unfortunately, his enthusiasm wasn’t matched by his spatial awareness. While inspecting a particularly intriguing object or perhaps daydreaming about his next chess conquest...he collided into another shopper with all the grace of a rogue Bludger. “Sorry, mate, my bad,” he blurted out, his thick Scottish accent making the apology sound both earnest and slightly comedic. Riv decided then and there that perhaps he should focus less on winning chess matches and more on navigating shops without turning into a human Quaffle.
__________________
we're only getting older, baby & I've been thinking
about it lately does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes? everything that you've ever dreamed of disappearing when you wake up but
there's nothing to be afraid of even when the night changes
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Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment 
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