It was a gorgeous day. Birds sang in their treetop houses and people were out and walking wherever they could. The air was warm and saturated with smells from many different restaurants and specialty shops. On the corner of pleasantville and cheapside, Xanthe stopped and pulled a crooked cigar from her paper pack. In a burst of light she lit the match and proceeded to draw the smoke in her lungs. From behind her over sized sunglasses she surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. She had walked unusually far today in the pleasant weather and was quite far away from her near campus home. Behind her were quint little shops, before her mostly warehouses and old historical homes fallen into disrepair. It seemed the last landmark before the ruins was the small store she was standing in front of. Named Chic Antiques on a gold leafed sign hanging above the door, the interior looked warm and inviting behind the sold barred windows.

Xanthe took one last drag and stubbed the cigar out on the ground. One last stop before she turned back. As she opened the door of the shop, a small bell rang out cheerfully from somewhere within. Although the interior appeared to be similar to many other antique shops, there was something... different. Was it the smell? Xanthe sniffed the air tentatively.

As she made her way around the shop the golden blonde admired some of the wonderfully restored pieces and trinkets. She had always loved antiques, as they were a little bit of history in themselves. As she approached the jewelery counter she saw a necklace that seemed too beautiful to be real. Glittering dimly through the cloudy glass, Xanthe could almost make out the shape of a bird. She wanted a closer look.

"Hello? I'd like to see something, please." She called out pleasantly.

Mr. Jenkins, the shop's proprietor was in the middle of his lunch, a Phillie cheesesteak sandwich. There was no way he was willing to risk getting a single globule of grease on the glass. It would vex his assisitant to no end. So he called out. "Charlie, could you come open a case for a customer please?"

Charlie who was dusting a ceiling fan, climbed down from his ladder and came to do so. He like most everything else in the store, bore the distinct odor of lemon scented furniture polish.

Xanthe gave a warm smile to the man that came to greet her. The smell of citrus washed over her and she immediately recognized the smell that had puzzled her before. Meeting his eyes, she felt something... odd. Something pulling her towards him. Xanthe took a mental note.

"Hello there. Could I see that bird necklace please, it looks beautiful."

Charlie jingled in his pocket for a moment to produce the keyring which would let him open the case. "Which, Miss, the enamaled cross, or the Swavorski bird pendant?" He asked, not entirely clear on which piece she'd pointed at.

"The pendant, please." she replied, trying to focus on the pendant and not the man. It was odd, what she was feeling. She had sensed things similar in deep meditation, but this was exotic... new.

He picked up the object with seeming reverence for it and handed it over carefully so she might examine it.

He crinkled his nose momentarily, because she smelled faintly like cigar. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, just unusual on a woman. He adjusted his wire rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose while she looked at the necklace.

The pendant she held was exquisite. Silver inlaid with precious stones, it made the form of an elegant necked bird. It glittered beautifully in the light and Xanthe had to tell herself that she could in no way afford it. With a small sigh she handed it back to the man, and as she did so their hands brushed lightly. This small contact made her scoff at herself. He was only human. She made and effort to smooth the goosebumps from her skin as she tried to think of something that she could rationalize her feelings from.

"It's a beautiful piece." She said wistfully, remembering that she was in the company of the man.

"Very old, we picked it up at an estate sale." He said. "Can I show you something else?"

There was a tingling as he brushed her hand that he knew to emanate from those touched by magic in one way or another. It hardly surprised him, the shop and it's contents seemed to draw such people.

"I don't know, what do you have that is interesting?" She asked, flashing him a white toothed smile. Her charm was not something that she could turn on an off on a whim, but when she noticed her male attendant was rather handsome, the woman in her decided to have some fun.

"Like Art Nouveau?" He asked moving down a few cases. The pieces were very tasteful and much more affordable.

"Yes, as well as more traditional styles. I like the feel of truly old pieces." Xanthe said as she looked through the old glass. "They have memories, and if you listen they'll speak to you." She smiled to herself as she looked down at a small pin in the shape of kitten. Shifting her sight to the man who smelled of lemon furniture oil, she finished ,"But I'm sure that sounds a little odd."

"Some people believe objects carry resonances related to their histories, and that some people are sensative to them more than others." Charlie offered carefully. Clearly she believed something at least, similar in premise.

Xanthe nodded but decided not to comment any further. It was a good general practice to keep it simple with people you're going to buy something from, as you never know how someone will feel on such matters.
Looking down at the foggy glass once more Xanthe browsed until her eyes came upon a medium sized pin that immediately caught her attention. Within it's oval shape was the image of three nude women dancing in a field. Pointing to it she asked, "Could I see the 'Three Graces' pin please?"

Charlie knew what is was, but only because Jenkins was very good about educating him on such things. He nodded and got it out for her. It was a piece that always felt comfortable to handle.

Xanthe smiled as he handed her the pin. It was in perfect condition aside from a bit of discoloration from years of wear. The three women depicted danced gracefully, freely. The symbolism and the beauty of the picture made Xanthe grin and looking at the small price tag attached.

"I think I'll get it." She said to him.

"There's a ten percent discount if you pay cash." he told her quietly.

With a muffled 'humph' she hoisted her overlarge purse onto the counter and began to rummage for her wallet. She grinned apologetically as she searched, and finally she pulled out an old leather wallet that looked like it had seen better days.

"What's the damage?" She asked, looking at the pin so he wouldn't mistake her meaning.

"Cash price is sixty nine dollars."

She pulled the appropriate number of bills from her wallet and put it on the counter. Something in her bag drew her attention and she proceeded to fiddle with something that was just hidden from view.

He looked at the purse. "What've you got in there, bricks?" it had certainly seemed substantial enough when she'd set it down to paw through it.

He counted out the money, opened the register, printed her receipt and boxed her purchase with the utmost care before bagging it for her and handing it over.

"No," she said, paused as she finished her business in her purse and then turned her attention to him. "Just my life and all it's odds and ends." After stuffing the receipt in her wallet she put it and the box (gently) into her bag.
"It might as well be bricks from what it weighs."

"It sounded heavy. Have you always lived out of your handbag?"

In the other room Charlie's small talk wasn't missed. It was unlike him to be talkative with anyone as of late. Mr. Jenkins got up to have a peek at what was going on out there.

She nodded and touched the rough purple material of her bag gently with her fingers, almost a caress. "I like to have the things I use and care about with me at all times. You never know when you might need something." She reached down and pulled out a book, a small blue silk bag, and a black planner.
"Reading material, oils, and my planner. Three essentials I never leave home without."

"Oils?" This seemed to peak his curriosity.

The older man in back seemed content to go back to whatever he was doing. Seeing Charlie talking to a young woman, he felt perhaps that would be just the thing.

Xanthe untied the drawstrings of the small bag and revealed seven or eight small dark bottles with different colored labels.
"I'm sure you've heard of essential oils and aromatherapy. Well, oils made with the right materials and in the proper manner can be very efficient tools of healing." She held one out for him. It's label was a royal blue with golden letters that spelled Valor.

"Do you make them, or buy them?" he seemed reluctant to touch the stuff, or perhaps skeptical. Still his mind wasn't entirely closed, his curiosity was still patently obvious.

She smiled, obviously used to being met with skepticism but that didn't deter her for a second.
"Both actually. It depends on the oil. Some things, like lemon and rose and lavender I can make at home but others like myrrh, frankincense and fir are just easier to get from a carefully selected provider. Some appreciate and feel them more than others and I happen to be one very enthralled with them. "

"How does one become enthralled with oils, exactly?" This was something new to him, as if people didn't make him curious enough. This was even more interesting than his usual sorts of interactions.

"Do you enjoy smells, Mr...?" She gave him a strangely charming and crooked smile as she waited for him to give his name.

"Charlie. I'm Charlie. I just don't like the smell of dust. Well I don't like anything about dust really."

Xanthe blinked once and gave a short glance around the room. What a place to work if you have a disliking for dust! But now that you mention it this place is immaculate.

"Well Charlie, it's nice to meet you. I'm Xanthe. And I asked because the power of smell can be an amazing tool in healing when paired with massage and complementary therapies. I .. dabble. And I find other properties about them to be wuite interesting as well. But that's another conversation."

"You dabble in unconventional therapies?" It really does seem when one thinks about it rather outrageous and yet not simultaneously.

"Yes." She twisted open the bottle of Valor and dabbed a drop on her wrist. After rubbing her wrists together, she held the bottle out for him. She took a long breath in through he nose and smelled the deep aroma of spruce with a spice that was hard to put a finger on. It was mellowing and stabilizing.
"Care to smell?"

He took a curious sniff. It smelled rather pleasant. "Not bad." he commented. It somehow made him feel more clear headed and sharp about things.