Where all the magical bits and bobs are stored for sale in the store. It's dusty and dark up here.

::Veronica arrives with a dark expression and almost has a stroke on seeing that the wiccan wasn't lying about the dust. Unsure how to start, the girl turns heel and stomps back to the magic shop.::

::Stomp stomp. Veronica whacks the bucket on the floor and unpacks all of the cleaning things the wiccan has. Spotting a murky window set into the roof, Vero manages to open it so the room can be aired. She sets to work.::

::Dar clumps up the stairs and is also far less than impressed with the mess. She watches Veronica for a few minutes.::

"Can I help?"

::Turning around, Veronica glowers at Dar.::

"No. You won't do it right."

"Hmph."

::Feeling insulted, Dar now needs to stand up for her cleaning prowess.::

"I do do this for a living, you know."

::Veronica straightens up and gives Dar a long, cold stare, sizing her up.::

"Probably scrubbed more floors in this last year than you have in your life. How old are you? Fifteen?"

"Eighteen."

::Veronica glares at Dar some more.::

"And what about you? Forty-five?"

"Amusing, kid."

::Dar swans over to Vero and looks through what she's got. Selecting a good few things, Dar walks over to a table and starts cleaning the hell out of it.::

::Rising to the challenge, Veronica chooses her own weapons and another table, determined to do a better job than Dar. She removes the contents of the table, dusting and polishing all of it to a fine, fine sheen.::

::Dar sneaks occasional glances at Veronica over her shoulder, noting how the child seems to really be into doing a good job. But so is Dar, believe it or not. She polishes the table, then cleans the little jars that were on top of it and starts arranging them neatly on top.::

::Well, Veronica's hit the jackpot here. Rusty knives. She walks with an armful over to their collective cleaning things and drops them loudly onto the floor so that Dar will look and see how dirty they are.::

::She does turn around. And sees the knives. And fumes.::

(Little bitch!)

::Dar hurries over to a full-length mirror which is covered in grime and rolls it over to her table, positioning it beside it so it can be a part of her display. She starts to viciously scrub at the glass.::

::Narrowing her eyes, Veronica projects the image of a spot of dirt that will not go away, no matter how hard Dar tries. Knowing this will distract the woman, she sets to work de-rustifying the knives and making them clean, shiny and reflective.::

::Dar thinks she's finished the mirror until she realises she's missed a bit. She goes over Veronica's projection, but it doesn't come off. She goes over it a little harder. Still there. Hm. Putting her elbow into it, Dar scours over the mark as roughly as she can for a minute. It's still there.::

(...)

::She turns and walks over to where Veronica is crouched on the floor and picks up one of the clean knives.::

"Mind if I borrow this?"

::Without waiting, she returns to the mirror and attempts to carefully scrape the dirt off.::

::Veronica smirks at the back of Dar's head and finishes scouring the rust from the last athame. She sprays it with metal polish and does her thing, holding it up eventually to smile at her reflection. Picking the rest of the knives up, the girl walks back to her sparkling table and expertly arranges a good-looking display of athames according to colour, shape and size. It's clear she has a good eye for this kind of thing. She has spent many of her years doing it. She alligns them all perfectly, taking great care and fretting over a millimetre several times.::

::Dar winces and cringes as she accidentally scrapes the mirror too hard, the sound a wheedling, grating squeal.::

::The sound makes Veronica's skin crawl, but she smirks even harder. Finished with her table, she turns and sways over to Dar, looking over her shoulder.::

"You missed a bit."

::She points to the projected mark, which fades away in front of their eyes.::

"Hu-"

::Dar gasps, shocked as the dirt just vanishes like that. It takes her a moment to catch on.::

"That was you!"

::She wheels around and glares at Veronica accusingly.::

"You used some sort of... magical power! You made that appear and it was never even there to begin with!"

::Veronica just smiles, pulling an innocent face.::

"What an accusation! I can't believe you're blaming me that you scratched the mirror when I was standing all the way over there."

::She knows that it's painfully obvious she did use magic, and enjoys every second of it.::

::Dar makes more sounds of affront.::

"You cheated!"

::Dante walks up to the arguing::

"Shut up. We need to leave this place for a bit. I thought we could go get some food."

"What? Why do we need to leave? Is Azura here?"

::Dar brandishes the athame she'd scraped the mirror with. Just in case.::

"No. People who want to stop her are. Or rather stop the demons she's with. Keep hold of the athame though."

::He leads them downstairs to the main shop::

:: Azura reappears in the attic.::

(You will not capture me so easily again.)

:: And she blinks again, this time to our beloved Andrea.::

::The wiccan picks up a small crystal stone and charges it. A light beam shoots out of it, stretching a foot or so above it. It reflects the wiccan's face like a mirror.::

"Piper, Phoebe, you must come and see me at once. It is absolutely urgent. And it must be you and only you that come. Perhaps you now know what it is I wish to see you about."

::The light falls back into the stone and the wiccan watches it as it stops glowing. She pockets it and returns to the back room.::

::Josie stops right at the doorway and turns the light on.::

"She should really invest in a house keeper."

::She lets Abby in.::

"Oh!"

::Abby is taken aback by the dust.::

"It is so clean below! Are we allowed here?"

::Even though the wiccan said it was cool, Abby is unsure. And she can't help it: she grabs a broomstick and starts sweeping. Muttering to herself about dust.::

"Yeah, it's cool."

::Josie dusts off some boxes labeled "clothes" and opens them, pulling our various rags that have potential of being pretty dresses, but are in serious need of a wash and ironing.::

"Abbyyy, stop cleaning and help me look."

::Abby puts the broomstick away and dutifully joins Josie, kneeling down and starting to go through the boxes.::

"Are you married?"

::Josie shakes her head.::

"Are you?"

::She looks at some random objects which should be shiny so she polishes them with a piece of cloth from said box.::

"Not yet."

::Abby rummages some more.::

"My father hopes I will be soon, though. Then he will have grandchildren and can grow old without worry. That is what he says about the matter."

"Hm. But do you want to get married and have children now?"

::The nymph shrugs.::

"It is what Father wants."

::She half-disappears into a box, digging deep into the bottom. She speaks, her voice muffled with nymph and clothing.::

"Aha!"

"Yay!"

::Josie looks very happy.::

"What did you find?"

::Abby wriggles her way out, holding a blood red cloak that looks like it could have been used in Harry Potter.::

"A little altering should fix it nicely."

"That is AWESOME! Is there another one? I so want one!"

"I will look. For the meanwhile, here. It is yours."

::Abby gives Josie the cloak, wanting to please her for being so nice to her so far. She delves back into the box, her torso disappearing once more.::

(Please let there be.)

"Abby! Don't be ridiculous. I could never take this from you, if there's another it'll be great, otherwise I'll just get a jacket. Really! It's alright."

::Josie watches Abby's bottom half as she speaks.::