{+8} have entered the shop
"Welcome to Practical Magick. Is there something I can help you with?"



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{+8} have entered the shop
"Welcome to Practical Magick. Is there something I can help you with?"
♠
"Doctor, we have very interesting insights on the unsub you were-oh, damn. I-I see you’re busy," as soon as her eyes landed on Spencer, Natasha raised her eyebrows, mouth agape in utter shock.
+Geniusreid Has Found Sherlock~
"Yes, what is it?
+geniusreid is at the door
"Yes, yes, do come in. Sit down. Start from the beginning - be descriptive but brief."
"You may begin."
+ [geniusreid]
"Thermodynamics is slightly more interesting than I suspected."
"Oh, hello. I hope you're not about to rob me. I know Muay Thai. I think."
geniusreid
You shouldn't be here.
[ He found it strange how the man spoke of humans, as if he weren’t one himself, but that had to be wrong. It was still up in the air on whether or not supernatural beings were a thing of fiction or truth, but this man certainly wasn’t one of them. Not if he were going by the stereotypical appearances.
As the bandages wrapped around him, he moved his eyes downwards to watch. He had only met this person and he was helping him out. If it had been under different circumstances, he would have found it odd, but now, he was only thankful. ]
"Spencer Reid. Most people call me Reid."
[ He replied, voice soft. His attention turned towards the TARDIS and he raised a brow in confusion. ]
"What’s that thing over here?"
[Koschei would have laughed at being compared to a supernatural being, though he might have been a little flattered. Instead, he worked quickly and easily, a hundred years of getting scraped up in the Academy coming in handy as he cut the bandage, securing it in place with two metallic clips.] "Nice to meet you, Reid." [He smiled amiably, checking the other man over for any other injuries. Bruises would need ice-- there wouldn't be any aspirin on board the TARDIS, given the Time Lords' own physiological weakness to the drug, but he was sure there would be some ibuprofen, or at the very least some acetaminophen to take the edge off the pain.] "I go by the Wanderer. It's a surprisingly accurate nickname." [There was no need to tell the man that he'd chosen it himself, but he did live up to the reputation-- young and free and exploring the stars.]
"That--" [He motioned to the TARDIS, which had taken the shape of an opaque phone booth at the moment,] "is just a little hidey-hole of mine." [Then, realizing that he had already pulled medical supplies out of it, he sheepishly corrected himself.] "Well, hidey-hole and vehicle of choice. There's also a medical bay on board if you don't mind visiting that instead a hospital. The ship's computers can probably scan you for internal hemorrhaging and the like."
SCAN COMPLETE FOUND: [...]
I fail to see how any of this is relevant. To me, specifically.
Do you want me to do something about it -- ? Or are you simply looking for someone to rant about this to?