Open for Business

Nevin dropped the large tome that he had carried downstairs onto the work-table and let out a pleased sigh. It had taken some hunting through a few of the local bookshops to find the kind of book that he was looking for, but he had. A nice compendium of many of the basic magical plants that could be found on Manta Carlos, and what they could provide. It was a good basis for him to work from while he was making his own private one - one that would include the reactions to other plants, and what he could make from them. But that, that was a long term project, one that would take many years and be an ongoing process.

He sat down in the chair on one side of the table, and began flipping through the compendium, browsing through to begin getting more of an idea of what he could work with. He kept glancing up towards the door, wondering if anyone would be coming in today. The store had only been open for a couple of days now, and his flyer at the community center up for one, so there was a decent chance his small business would be going largely unnoticed by the populace. Still, he had to have some hopes. This wasn't like when he was young, when his medicines demanded notice in his small town for standing out. No, Manta Carlos was thriving with a magical community, and his services were just another one showing up. Still, he had managed to talk to a few people when he went to put up his flyer, so that was already one place people would start talking about him from.

On the downside... part of that had been mildly freaking out about the power-copying child, and ending up drawing police attention. While the girl said she hadn't been trying to copy his power, and didn't the thought of a young girl messing around with alchemy and accidentally hurting herself scare him, he hadn't known that at the time. And the less said about police paying attention to him, the better. While he had kept his cool far better than the moth-being had, Nevin didn't really want the police being too interested in him. Especially in any kind of a negative light.

The alchemist shook his head sharply, pulling himself out of his thoughts. No, now wasn't the time to be lost in ruminations. The store was open, and being distracted when a potential customer came in would not look good for him. Nevin reached over and poured some tea from a standing pot into a mug, and sat back to drink from it while looking through the compendium.

Nevin looked up as the door opened, pausing in his perusal of his compendium to see who it was that had come in. A student would be likely to want something along the lines of a simpler potion but - well. That thought went out the window when he recognized the small being that had entered his store. He dropped a bookmark into the tome he was browsing, and set it down on the table with his cup of tea, and started to stand up, as the small one - Fennick, that was the moth-man's name - picked up one of his restorative potions. As the little one spoke, the potion that was in his hand froze over, and the alchemist felt his eye twitch.

While some of his potions could handle changes in temperature while remaining effective, that particular one was not on that list. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It didn't look to have been done deliberately, but... "Well. That potion you just bought would usually be used for dealing with allergies induced by common magical pollen in the area. Now though, it's most likely trash, since it can't handle being frozen." He let out another breath, and smiled pleasantly. "Fairly cheap, all things considered. Normally, I sell small healing potions or magical remedies for illnesses. I also do consultations on making more powerful, customized potions."

He leaned against the table, resting one hand on it. "Fairly broad spread on that, thankfully. Might take some time for more unusual needs, but I can handle a wide spectrum of demands. Ah, yes." He cleared his throat. "The name is Nevin, Nevin Tradaimous. I believe your name was Fennick Glenway?" The alchemist was fairly certain of his memory, but figured asking for confirmation was at the least, polite. "Did you need something made?"

Rumors, hmm? That was interesting, Nevin hadn't been operating for very long at all here. The fact that he already had at least one or two hints about his work floating around was a bit faster than he expected, but then again, if it got him work it wasn't something he was necessarily going to be complaining about. He folded his arms over his chest as he studied the small figure in front of him, one eyebrow lifting as he watched and considered.

"While I wouldn't necessarily say I have 'no' holdbacks, they are rather limited. I don't make tier two love potions, for example. As for... other, more normal illicit goods.." He shrugged. "Well. That's just something that needs to be discussed with a client, now isn't it?" Making things that wouldn't meet the casual approval of society was something that Nevin had no qualms about, though he didn't think there'd be many looking for that sort of service. Then again,k he had already had a few people come in looking for 'pick-me-ups' as it were.

"So, then, little one. What is it that you've got, that requires a consultation?" As Nevin spoke, he stepped around the table and walked past the moth-being, to the door. It had swung closed after Fenn had entered, but now, Nevin barred it, securing the door. He turned around. "There, now we shouldn't have anyone intruding in on our discussion. And the doors and walls are thick enough we won't be overheard." That done, he walked back to his chair, and picked up a second, empty glass.

"If we're going to be discussing things, would you care for some tea?" The offer was made for politeness sake at the moment. "It's human-standard, just in case you can't consume that." He had no idea what exactly the little moth-man was, aside from interesting, and as he had guessed after watching him at the community center, on the shadier side of the law.

"Hmm." Nevin slowly picked up the vial and swirled it around. There was a faint hint to it even through the bottle, just a trace of magic - but he couldn't tell if that was something inherent to the potion, or just because the moth-being had been carrying it around for who knows how long. He tapped the bottle against the table as he thought, frowning at the swirling, murky contents. "Well, first off, this thing looks positively vile. I don't think anyone would be willing to consume it in the first place." If this was meant to be sold, that would be one of the first things that needed fixing with it. And if it wasn't meant to be a poison, then it was likely meant to be distributed. He sighed again.

"Alright then. Let's see here." He popped the vial open, and it even smelled foul. The alchemist lifted up the bottle, and saw the small being on the other side of the table shake his head sharply, trying to warn him. "I'll be fine." He couldn't intake a lot of it, but in trying to identify this mess, well, the best option for it was to try it. A small portion of the disgusting concoction leaked onto his tongue, and he had to force himself not to spit it out right away. He set the bottle down and swallowed, grimacing at the texture and flavor. It burned down his throat and hit his gut like a heavy weight, and he could feel it churning inside of him.

It was... familiar. Distorted, overdone to a ridiculous degree, but familiar. Nevin closed his eyes as his body processed the foul brew, trying to figure out where he recognized this from. It wasn't any poison he had ever tested before, so the moth-man was right about that much. It also wasn't deliberately magical, it was....

"Peyote?" He popped open his eyes to stare at the small figure. "This is some kind of ridiculously overbrewed peyote, isn't it?" That had been an interesting few days, wandering around the American South-west. Thankfully the same thing that was keeping this from making him sick, was also preventing him from having another trip, but even so...

Nevin waved off the comment dismissively as he recorked the bottle, pushing it back towards the small moth-man. "It's less a strong constitution, and more like... I've done worse, so my body shrugs it off. I'd have to drink a lot more before it'd actually affect me." He sighed and drummed his fingers against the table as he thought, his mind churning as he ran through what he could tell of the brew.

"Alright, so. Despite what media might claim, a lot of drugs are actually not consumable in a 'pure' form. Yes, some do work well like that, but others do not." Blasted TV shows. "This one, falls in the first category. Yes, it's potent, and pure. But the problem is, it is too pure. It overwhelms the body, and prevents it from getting what you were going for. If it's a poison, it's a weak one though." He chuckled.

"So, in regards to fixing it?" He shrugged slightly. "You need to dilute the blend with something that doesn't actually ruin the concoction. While water seems like a good thing for that, and in some cases it is, this isn't one of them." He frowned and leaned back, closing his eyes. No, water was not proper, it was too thin, it wouldn't carry the peyote brew properly without overly weakening the effects. It needed to be something more viscous, something that could offset the natural state of the peyote that Fennick had brought here, without overly reducing the effects. Balance. And that flavor....

His eyes shot open and locked onto the small moth, and he grinned. "Well. I think I have something, but you know, fixing a competitor's drug wouldn't be a very good idea for me, now would it? Not unless I was getting something out of the deal. This seems very much like a situation where you're trying to take advantage of my good nature, and you wouldn't do that, would you?" And he did have an idea. Something that could dilute the flavor, would naturally spread the blend out and reduce how strong it was, and it was also mildly medicinal, so would further help reduce the nauseating effects of the blend. But - why should he help, when this would be a drug he needs to compete with later, perhaps? Even if he couldn't make it himself, not having access to the line of peyote that this was brewed from, if it stayed unsellable, then wouldn't that be better for him? He drummed his fingers on the table as he smiled at Fennick.