Ollivanders Counter

[Zoe]

Ollivanders is a long and narrow shop, with impossibly tall and crooked shelves making up the majority of its space, but this is as far as the Wizarding public are permitted to go unaccompanied. Here is the counter, a thick, rustic slab of darkest mahogany, worn smooth from years of use. On top of the counter sits an old fashioned brass cash register which seems to have a mind of its own. It toots and whistles and lets off steam as purchases are entered into it and the drawer pops out jauntily to receive payment, and if anyone tries to get into it, an obnoxious caterwauling charm will go off. Best not to try, it knows how to defend itself.

On the wall next to the counter there is an inventory board, which lists every product sold and service provided at Ollivanders aside from the wands themselves. If you wish to buy a holster, or any polishes or wand care products, this is where you should look. The products themselves are displayed on the racks and in baskets attached to one side of the counter.

OOC: If you are here to receive a wand, please post in the Wand Fitting thread first and wait for a response from the Ollivanders staff.

[RachieRu]

Ahh yes. Perhaps she should have considered that when she had first gotten here. But her mind had kind of been on the dangerous escaped criminals and making sure that they did not cause any other damage. She also hadn't heard the other gentleman saying what she had suggested first, since she hadn't been there then. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to move someone via portkey or apparation, but she actually hadn't suggested that. Just that he needed to get to St Mungos. She was no healer though. She was an auror.

Grace moved her wand. Good thing she could do a patronous, though she'd be a bit of a bad auror if she couldn't really. Her Niffler patronus appeared to literally jump off the end of her wand. It ran out of the shop, and off to St Mungos to get help. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long.

Her attention was about to return to the pair when suddenly one of the escapees was up on his feet. Seemed she would get some battle action today. Grace thanked heavens that the two conscious people she was with at least seemed to know how to use their wands. She cast another shield charm, not doubting the mans but knowing two were better than one Anything that kept them safe would be beneficial.

She stepped forward, casting Incarcerous, , followed by Petrificus Totalus. Hopefully some of those would hit home and immobilise this man. Meanwhile she was moving forward, getting into a more offensive position, just incase her spells didn't work out the way she wanted them to. Grace also sent off another patronus, this time back to the ministry. Whilst she knew she should be able to handle one escaped prisioner..... back up would be good. Who knew how many more would be in the Alley.

[Neo-Alliance Followers]

The last of the able bodied escapees in the shop, the man snarled as his spells struck the Shield Charm and sent sparks in every which direction. Determined to land a blow and not accounting for the woman on the ground to be free to cast, he was completely vulnerable to the attack from below his line of site and her Stupefy struck him hard in the rib cage and sent him corkscrewing through the air just as the other woman's Incarcerous also struck and wrapped the man in tight ropes. His body slammed against the now vacant shelves that had housed boxes upon boxes of wands previously and with a crash and a thud he crumbled to the floor in a face down heap with his Azkaban robes singed where the spell had struck and smoking at the seams.

Those who had been wrangled up earlier, back to back, began snarling and mouthing off to their captors. "You're too late! TOOOOO LATE!"

[BanaBatGirl]

Oh puhlease, proper stabilization and whatnot... Fletcher ROLLED HIS EYES at this woman. Just a bit, though, because the guy DID look awful, and he felt bad for him. "It's not a business transaction but I am here doing my job." And THEN SOME, so, YOU'RE WELCOME. He couldn't, for the life of him, remember any bandaging spells in this moment to help further; and also, he had a feeling that the lady might attack him the way she'd just attacked that dolt flying through the air at the moment.

Heh. Okay, the guy did deserve that. Fletcher stood up slowly, his ankles cracking a bit with the exertion. Merlin, he was getting old. Too old for this nonsense, and: "Too late for what?" he replied with a loud snort at the prisoners in the corner. He never could resist a taunt. Also, WAS he late for something? Fletcher checked his watch and was stunned to see how little time had actually passed here. The alarm at the Ministry had felt like weeks ago. Why wasn't anyone else showing up to help? "Your colleagues busy or something?" he remarked to the auror-woman.

[Samia]

The patronous had appeared at St Mungos mere minutes after patients had started apparating, and flooing in left and right. Rafael had known it was coming, and he was scared to even wonder what had caused such chaos. Nonetheless, he had volunteered to show up at the scene without even wasting a second to think. Paige's face had crossed his mind, but he knew she would understand.

Following the patronus, he apparated right outside of Ollivanders. Wand at the ready, he entered the shop - (not through the window but the door, of course).

The entire scene was a mess, but he had been expecting no less.

His eyes barely stayed at the prisoners, by habit - darting straight to the man on the floor. No time for introductions, he swiftly moved to crouch beside him and the woman next to him - hoping the other two there would provide him with enough back up to work.

"Let me have a look" he said calmly to the distraught woman beside him, even though he didn't wait for her permission before removing that messy fabric off the man's head. He was sure she knew the man on the floor. Her look said it all. He had seen it many times in his line of work. Casting a quick 'tergeo', he cleaned the blood as much as possible, and tried to assess the injury. He was barely able to however, before the blood started spreading again. Retrieving a small vial of dittany from his pocket next, he uncapped it and dropped a few drops on the wound.

It was messy. So messy.

[sweetpinkpixie]

Here doing his job. Right...well...if that job entailed acting like the rear end of a hippogriff then she was inclined to tell him that he was doing an absolutely outstanding job at it. Though she could admit that he was being more useful than the actual auror who had appeared on site. "Then put your business card away," she hissed through clenched teeth. Because yes, it was very likely that she would lash out at him next - and she knew how to throw a grown man just fine.

Thankfully for all, and mostly her own sanity, a healer appeared and was rushing over to her and Ramiel. His presence alone was enough to distract her from the obscenities being shouted by the prisoners. Which, by the way Mr. Entitled, could do with a good Silencing Charm. "He was struck with a crowbar," she explained, her eyes only briefly glancing to gauge the healer's reaction. "He...was able to recognize me, speak, before he passed out." And while she did not ask it outright, the questions were visible in her eyes: Would he be okay? Would there be any permanent damage?

Honestly, to think her and Ramiel's first date - a blind date - had been at Azkaban ... and now look where they were.

[Neo-Alliance Followers]

The taught from the man did little to rile up the bound group who were peak rabid animal as it was. To his question, however, their heads all slowly snapped around to grin at him as the one with the blackest of teeth spoke on behalf of them all. "E v e r y t h i n g," he cackled before breaking out into what can only be described as a villain laugh complete with shrill crescendo.

[BanaBatGirl]

Oh look who was here now. A Healer. If Fletcher didn't feel at least a significant amount of sympathy for the injured shopkeeper, he'd have probably called the woman 'lazy.' He might've even said it out loud if the circumstances weren't so dramatic. After all, literally everyone was coming to her rescue while she sat on the floor. 'Useless' might've been another word he'd use about her. So what, ya had a little blood on your hands? Couldn't she like... make a tourniquet or something?

But no, Fletcher was Busy and Important™, so he wasn't bending over again to pick up that business card. 1) It was still a portkey, and he didn't feel like going to St. Mungo's at the moment. 2) His knees were feeling creaky, and he'd already kneeled enough today. 3) Who cared about a dumb card anyway? He only had about a hundred spare ones. Just add this one to the rubbish all over the place.

What he did care about? Dumb escapees getting back to Azkaban ASAP.

"You need to see a dentist, mate," Fletcher chuckled along with the villainous laugher, though his own laugh was more of a... laissez-faire lazy snicker. "Right, lemme help you save your spit for the tooth fairy." He cast a nonverbal but strong silencio their way and then started for the door, stepping slowly to avoid most of the glass and some of the rubble.

Fletcher then started to work on trying to repair, or at least cast a few wards on, the door, window, and general broken-down storefront. Someone was going to need to secure this place, as the shopkeeper was clearly out of it, his girlfriend was 'unhelpful' at best, and the auror was going to be busy making those prisoners disappear. Ollivander's was a valuable asset to wizarding Britain; the merchandise, at least, needed protection, or perhaps relocation.

Again, look at him going ABOVE and BEYOND in service to the Ministry. Honestly. Would the DP be sending a reporter his way to document his personal attributions to the crisis today? They certainly needed to!

[sweetpinkpixie]

It was his turn to pick up Ezekiel for their weekly lunch and hopefully a bit of shopping after. If there was anyone, other than Dieter, Zachaël felt like he could trust with fashion it was his mate. No offense, Sophia. The irony of having a close friend who was a fashion designer but your tastes clashed on nearly every single level. A hilarious shame.

Stepping into Ollivanders, Zachaël gave the displays a casual glance over before making his way over to the counter and rapping his knuckles on it thrice and THEN ringing the bell. Also thrice. At first, it may appear as though Zachaël was without a feathered friend today - which would have been very peculiar indeed. But there was one, a little elf owl, perched on his shoulder and seeming to blend in and hide amongst the man's thick curls. The round golden eyes were a good give away.

[Felixir]

From behind the counter, amongst the extra shelves and the workspace beyond, Zeke heard the mildly obnoxious call for attention. He had a pretty good idea who that was, and the tinny chime of his wall clock only seconds later provided more supporting evidence. Rolling himself back on his stool, he stuck his head out to make sure it was indeed Zachaël, eyes magnified by the special pince-nez he wore specifically for certain close work on wand repairs. There was not a huge difference between himself and the little owl who had tagged along today, except that Zeke was taller. And could not fly.

Also, no feathers.

He hadn't perched on his old dorm mate's shoulders in years, either.

"Ah!" Zeke exclaimed, the work halfway between realisation and exclamation, with just a dash of greeting. Lunch. Of course. RIGHT. No offence, Zachaël. It's not you, it's the wands. "Please hold." He rolled back out of sight, though clearly remained within range of conversation, because he called out, "Lost track of time."

[sweetpinkpixie]

Tempted to give the bell one more ding simply because Zachaël enjoyed the tone, the wandmaker was spared when he made his presence officially known. And as fashion forward as ever with the eyewear. Though Zeke could do with a few feather adornments if anyone were asking the resident owl whisperer. Zachaël had always had a more eclectic fashion sense that some would describe as gaudy or even lacking in taste. He preferred Bohemian chic and if he could find two or even three prints in a single look then he was quite pleased.

"Why am I not surprised?" he sighed while running a hand through his thick curls. "I told you he would forget." This was, of course, spoken to the owl on his shoulder. "If your in the middle of something I can pop out and get something to go. Bring it back here so you can finish up with your mahogany."

[Felixir]

"I heard that!" Zeke's voice drifted out from the back room, momentarily followed by the man himself, now free of the pince-nez and pulling on a tailored emerald green suit jacket. "The silver lime can wait for now. It's just a little too easy to get carried away." But he'd spare Zachaël the details, only because there was really not much more he to add onto the Ollivanders-related tangents he'd subjected him to in recent months.

Checking he had his own wand still tucked away in its holster, Zeke rounded the counter, smiling at his friend. And his friend's friend, half nestled in Zachaël's curls. "Who do we have here?"

[sweetpinkpixie]

Zachaël chuckled lightly and jabbed his thumb in the direction his friend in a real 'can you believe this gentleman?' kind of manner. "I intended for that," he called back in response and just in time for Zeke to come popping out from behind the backroom in a smart looking blazer. It would be nicer if it had a print on it, however. "I do not believe that is exclusive to silver lime. Best not say that too loudly or the mahogany might get offended." Though Zachaël did not mind all the tangents, it was difficult to follow at times. He could keep up with the wand cores discussions well enough, creatures being his forte of sorts, but other elements became poetic gibberish after a while.

"This is Owliva," he smiled as his attention now turned to the elf owl and puckered his lips for a kissy kiss. "Found her in a kneazle's mouth a couple of weeks ago and have been nursing her and her broken wing back to health." She was a little too small for the Owl Post purposes...but...maybe he could still find something for her to do if her attachment to him persisted. "Rather unusual for her species to be all the way across the pond."

[Felixir]

"Don't try to be smart," Zeke grumbled, before immediately turning it into a quip. "You'll hurt yourself." Listen, it was fine. He'd long since earned the right to talk to Zachaël in such a way. Or, not really the right, so much as the familiarity.

As far as Zeke was concerned, however, his friend wasn't far off the mark. Some of these woods were so sensitive to the behaviour and intent of their owners, that he was even careful with what they 'heard' him say when they were in a raw state of wand-creation, or mending. Or... even just existing in his vicinity, sometimes. A good wand depended on the wandmaker in many ways. It wasn't so ridiculous; there were papers and articles out there on this kind of thing.

Zeke would know. He'd written one.

Owliva. Naturally. Zeke rolled his eyes good-naturedly and smiled at both Zachaël and owl. "But I suppose less unusual for her to be found in a kneazle's mouth. Lucky you were able to rescue her." Kneazles had twice the determination that regular cats had, and at least three times the attitude. "So, which of us is the third wheel here?"

[sweetpinkpixie]

"Can one truly try to be something that they already are?" Zachaël replied with a coy and exclusive sort of smirk. Call it his customer service persona, but the curly haired brunette had long grown accustomed to mild jabs - though Zeke's were in good fun and water off a duck's back at their worst - so it was very easy to chuckle it off. Unless there was a jab at his luxurious locks. That was a below the belt maneuver.

Sometimes Zachaël wondered how Zeke did not go a little mad while tip toeing around his speech, but then the man was reminded how the owls at the Owl Post were similar in that regard. A couple coming to mind in particular who really got their feathers ruffled when he slipped into a few key words. Or sang some French classics. He had a rather pleasant singing voice, so he truly could not understand the hooting fuss they made.

"Indeed." And now he was turning his head and puckering his lips for the little owl to give him a couple of quick pecks. Which perhaps answered Zeke's inquiry to a degree, though entirely unintentionally. "Don't fret too much. We would never want to make you feel like a third wheel. Or you can bring one of your wood blocks that requires a bit more wizarding interaction along and we can double date."