When the bells a the door began to jingle, Clara hadn't even bothered to look up. She already knew who it was. She'd known who it was since he set foot on the same block as her shop. That being  how far out the wards to her innocent look little store went. There was also the fact that if she made a show of knowing Issac was coming her mother would start pestering, lecturing, whining and any other form of of mental black mail the deceased woman could come up to get Clara to go on a date with the overly tall, ghostly, scarecrow, who constantly looked like he had spent the previous night on a drinking bender. Had Clara not known otherwise she would have been inclined to believe that he was an addict.<br/><br/>Though that would make little difference to her mother, who would insist, and did that he just needed someone to look after him. And that someone should be Clara. She'd do this from the time she found he was coming until he finally left. Then continue lecturing Clara afterwards, whether she offered to help him or not.<br/><br/>But his being here today was about her helping him it about him helping her. She'd acquired a new artifact to had to her collection of lethal Scottish rune blades. And her Gaelic, and knowledge of druid binding rituals had never been overly impressive. Thus she'd called Issac, the only person she knew who wouldn't over charge her or work for the trade of another artifact from her families extensive and extremely dangerous collection.<br/><br/><span style="color: #BF0000">"I'll assume there's a good reason this couldn't be done elsewhere."</span>she heard him and before Clara could reply, her mother let out gleeful shriek as she charged toward the man, squealing his name like a teenage girl who had just seen her idle. Her arms outstretched to hug the golden child Clara had never been to her mother and most likely wouldn't be until she popped out about a dozen babies to carry on the family line, coming up short when Melody dropped her arms when she saw how tired and haggard he looked.<br/><br/>"Oh my," she gasped, "Dear are you all right? You look dreadful." she stated, covering her mother in true worried mother fashion. Her sliver blond bob hair cut brushing against her cheeks as she observed him. "Here, you sit down and I'll make you nice cup of coco. Clara!" she snapped at her daughter, still standing behind the counter, head resting between her hands she observed her mother's over done concern. "You keep him company while I take care of the drinks. And don't chase him off." she growled at her daughter and left room, reminding Clara of 1950's house when in her knee length pastel pink dress and matching half inch heels.<br/><br/>Like a bored dog Clara watched her mother leave. The visible opposite of her daughter's coat gray turtle neck, black vest, and blue jeans. "Ladies and gents my Mother the master of<span style="font-style: italic">subtle</span>." Clara breathed, rolling her eyes as she looked back to Issac.<br/><br/>"And as for you Raiden" she said, using the nickname she liked to tease him with as the thunder god Christopher Lambert played in the first<span style="font-style: italic">Mortal Kombat</span>movie. Know of no other white haired magical dudes, aside from Gandelf and Issac was decidedly too young for that name. "This is Bad Juju R'us. We don't bring the toys to you come to the toys." she stated, fanning a hand out to the store as she walked around the counter and headed to the front door, flipping the open sign to close, and locking the door just in case. "Now come with me before the technicolor dream up here makes you hurl." he said and waved for him to follow her downstairs into the subbasement of the store.