Liadan  was frustrated. Christmas was three weeks away, and she had yet to think of a proper gift for Oscar. It was important to Liadan that she buy him something nice, something he would enjoy- something that he would appreciate. But he was a difficult man to buy for. He had money, and most anything he could ever want he could purchase for himself. His tastes were refined. And Liadan had no idea how to react to that. It was easier with her friends and associates... But since she saw Oscar in a romantic light that changed everything.

If the shoe were on the other foot- it would be easier. Oscar need only find a beautiful, unique piece of jewelry to satisfy Liadan's tastes. (Or the tastes of any woman.) It wasn't quite as simple to shop for a man.

Liadan did not have any male friends to consult on the matter. The only gift she had bought for a man she was romantically involved with had been a few things for Vedir- but that had been simpler. For some reason, Vedir had seemed... less fussy, perhaps even easier to please. And Liadan had not fretted as much over his reactions to her gifts. With things having been recently mended between herself and Oscar, she was walking a fine line. She had made a fool of herself once, and had no intentions of doing so twice.

It was a shame they couldn't just get married for Christmas. That would be a suitable gift to her. But as the woman, she couldn't propose to Oscar Whitman. It would be entirely inappropriate, and she could just imagine the rumor mill if she were stupid enough to try it. She didn't want to rush him into anything, either. Even so, having a ring upon her finger would quell all of her misgivings and constant worries that she would be found unworthy... (Not to mention those pesky ideas that she was simply a replacement for the wife he had already lost.)

After doing her regular business in Diagon Alley, Liadan had found her way into a specialty item shop. Perhaps there would be something interesting, unique, and appropriate here? Liadan turned left as she came through the door, with every intention of inspecting every inch of sale space- not wanting to miss out on a great find. The first display had a lot of antique foe-glasses. The intricate silver frame around one was quite beautiful, and Liadan leaned in closer, pondering purchasing the item for herself.

Stopping a nearby man- whom she assumed to be a sales clerk- she pointed to the foe glass. "Do you have any special information about this particular item?" she asked.

There was a chill in the air outside that made one think of frozen carpets and slug-flavoured popsicles. It was December... a month in which winter completely closed its merciless grasp over the city. Rascal rather enjoyed it.

The wizard stood with his back faced to the store, staring out of the fogged up window at grey sunlight and vaguely formed shapes scurrying about Diagon in a rush. Rush, rush, rush- as if though they were being chased by father Christmas himself. Terrifying old man, never heard a good word about old Mr Claus (unless you spoke to the polar bears, although nobody ever really trusts them).

A shop clerk had appeared by his side. "Sir? Are you looking for anything in particular?" Rascal blinked, lips pressed into a thoughtful simper. Excellent query. One that everyone should be asked at least once in a lifetime.

"Peace of mind, but failing in that..." he glanced at the bemused young man and winked. "Silver pacifiers. At least thirty of them, gift-wrapped and sent to this address, please~" A card was handed over; on it was printed the exact address of one Elliot Griffin. The Trollhouse editor would have already received his first welcoming gift (200 potted cacti plants) and there would be no disappointing with the second.

The clerk wandered away, card in hand, with no lack of bewilderment. Rascal's eyes twinkled with a glimmer of playfulness as he turned around to scan the shelves, hands buried snugly in the pockets of his bright red cardigan. What else, what else? Cursing crystal statues for uncle? Yodelling vases? Talking underw-- "Do you have any special information about this particular item?"

Rascal didn't pause to check if the witch was speaking to somebody else; he raised his eyebrows and looked from the blonde woman to the foe glass in question. Useful buggers. He put his hands behind his back, leaning in closer to the case.

"Well from what I can tell," he straightened and looked at her with a-matter-of-fact assurance: "It likes long walks on the beach, cinnamon hot chocolate and the occasional trip to the theater."

Liadan raised an agitated eyebrow at the inappropriate response from the supposed shop clerk. "Well I haven't any intentions of taking the foe glass out and about for an evening out." But as she spoke to the man, the more she looked at him, the more familiar his face suddenly became. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to place his face to a name. Liadan did not frequent this particular shop often enough to know its employees- thus, it dawned on her that the person she had chosen to inquire from likely had no information to offer to her. At least, not any valid information. Even so, he could have simply stated he did not work here instead of giving her a sarcastic response.

His name was on the tip of her tongue... R something. Robert? Roger? "Forgive me, but you look incredibly familiar to me. I cannot seem, however, to place your name. Have you and I met before?" Liadan finally asked. She chose not to apologize for mistaking him as a shop clerk. Had he been less rude- and not told her to take the foe glass on a walk- she might have been more inclined to do so. As it was, though, Liadan assumed they were even in that particular matter. "R-something, isn't it?" she asked. She was positive she had that letter right. It was unusual for Liadan not to be able to match a face with a name. Perhaps she had spent too much time outside of polite, societal company.

"Liadan O Morain," she said, in case he was having an equally difficult time of placing her name. Though the idea of someone Liadan had met before not remembering her was a foreign one. (Of course, Liadan had probably not actually met Rascal. More likely she had only seen his face on books or posters for signings.)

Oh, he knew that brand of eyebrow-raising. And that look. That maybe-he-just-has-one-of-those-faces look.

Rascal leaned lightly against one of the glass counters with a playful tug at his lips. R-something. If he ever branched out into musical territory, he fancied that would make a smashing name. Next up on the Wizarding Wireless, we have R-something with his latest rendition of Minty Pastures...

There was a story in there; the collected tales of a fallen musician. "Liadán Ó Móráin," the witch uttered a name that the author recognized, and he snapped away from his train of thought with his own brand of eyebrow-raising. The amused and impressed sort that you could sometimes catch over a bowl of bumbleberry ice-cream.

"Your name looks like your face," Rascal offerred with a smile. Was that a compliment? He supposed that it was unless you were talking to someone with a wrinkly name like Horace or Gertrude. Liadán was a name two decades away from wrinkly.
 
"You're thinking of Rascal, by the way." There was some benefit to having his picture on dust jackets. "Rascal Rosier. Are you looking for foe glasses to use? They don't like being used. The least you could do is buy them some dinner first, you know."

Liadan had heard many comments about her name throughout her short lifespan. Reactions from disgust to awe, and even pure interest. Never had somebody told her that her name looked like anything, certainly she had never heard that her name looked like her face. Liadan understood the premise- that a person's name could match their appearance or personality. She supposed that her name was appropriately suited for an Irish pureblood like herself.

Rosier. Liadan was definitely familiar with that name. She knew the head of the DMLE- Cameron Rosier. Briefly, in passing. She had met with him when Jonas had been harrassing her. Liadan had found him a pleasant man, with good manners. This Rascal (what a fitting name) must be related.

"A pleasure to formally meet you, Mr. Rosier," Liadan said. "Your name also looks like your face." She wondered if his real first name was Rascal. Certainly not. Though Rascal Rosier did have a nice ring to it.

He certainly was a Rascal, the way he was mouthing off to her over the foe glass. "Not necessarily to use. This one is just particularly beautiful. I rather like the intridcate detailing of the frame." And foe glasses were always particularly useful. Whether you were a person like Liadan- who had multiple enemies in the world- or not. Though they were also particularly good at stirring up paranoia.

"I don't suppose I could prevail upon your better nature to aid me in a quest?" Liadan asked him. "I happen to be on the hunt for a Christmas gift... As a woman, I find it difficult to pick out a gift for a man. You're of the Rosier family... Certainly you have refined tastes?"

Rascal beamed childishly at the compliment returned to him- it'd been a decade too long since anyone had remarked on his resemblance to his name. The witch was already two volumes into his good books.

He nodded absently at her remark on intricate detailing. Yes, foe glasses were rather susceptible to flattery; perhaps she knew what she was doing with them after all. "Oh, yes. Very beautiful. I'm not sure if it can hear you through the casing but that's certainly the right approach."

Her request for assistance was met with less flippancy and Rascal bowed slightly at the waist in mock formality. The refined tastes of the Rosier family, at her service. Nuncle might have had similar reservations about the inclinations of their mutual relations.

"Each of my natures are better than each other, and they are all at your disposal~" his brow contracted into some countenance of satirised seriousness. "Personally, I rather enjoy a gift that can surprise. Dear uncle is receiving talking boxers this winter, and there is always the option of verdure. I'm partial to Cacti."

But he knew all too well that those were hardly the gifts that a lady such as Liadán might be looking for; she wouldn't leave her house for talking boxers. There was mail order for that sort of nonsense. Rascal raised his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"Unless you are shopping for a... certain sort of gentleman?" One that might not enjoy the occasional pot of cacti.

"I'm quite certain, Mr. Rosier, that the foe glass cannot hear me at all." The joke was lost on Liadan. She would have that foe glass before she left the shop... And she had no intentions for taking it on walks or anything of the ridiculous sort. Perhaps Rascal Rosier was more... eccentric than the wizards she was accustomed to, but she could tolerate his company long enough to get his aid.

She recoiled slightly at his mention of talking boxers. Talking of under things! In public! To a lady! She would have whacked him with her umbrella had she remembered to carry it. Incredibly rude. "I do not think that talking clothing would be something he would enjoy or find amusing." If anything, Oscar would be incredibly mortified if Liadan gifted him such a thing. She had no desire to make him feel that way, or to embarass herself by giving him such a gift.

"He is a certain sort," Liadan agreed. "A very particular individual. A proper gentleman." Most of the time. When he wasn't kissing her to end arguments. Liadan could kill him for having done that. It was most inappropriate. "I doubt he would consider a cactus an appropriate gift." That this Rosier liked them seemed accurate- his personality was a bit prickly.

Liadan was unsure whether or not asking for his help had been a good idea- and he'd only made a couple of suggestions thus far. Perhaps they were both out of their leagues in this matter? "I was thinking something a bit more traditional and certainly much less whimsical."

One of those gifts.

Rascal made a note to sigh in disappointment later on in the day when the witch wasn't around- and, while he was mucking about the file cabinets of his mind, neatly filed away other 'whimsical' ideas. Adieu to chuckling cushions and Fwooper-scented candles!

"Ah, a shame. You're certainly in the correct establishment for traditional." His late father would have likely chosen to shop here for less outlandish reasons than himself. "I understand that they have a marvelous selection of antique pipes and wand holsters~"

In other words, dull. "And please," he added with an impish twitch of the lips. "Mr. Rosier is my darling Uncle. Rascal is fine, or Cynric if you'd like." His birth name rolled off his tongue and left a layer of time-dust that made him pull a slight face, briefly.

Hands in the pockets of his cardigan again, Rascal nodded towards one of the nearby glass cases.

"Almost forgot, rings. If he's the sort of gentleman who likes that sort of thing, enchanted jewellery..." the author pursed his lips thoughtfully and glanced at Liadán with an oddly perceptive look in his eye. "Gifts are about trying to say something to someone. Is there something you're trying to tell your fellow?"

Liadan pursed her lips when he proclaimed that Mr. Rosier was his uncle. She knew multiple Mr. Rosiers inthe wizarding world, adding another to the numbers meant very little to Liadan. She had no intentions of addressing the man as Rascal or Cynric. Proper society dictated she be more familiar with a person... And this was one Rosier Liadan was not sure she wanted to consider herself familiar with.

"I do not think the gentleman in question smokes." She had certainly never seen Oscar smoking, or smelled it upon him. Though what he did in his private time when she wasn't around was none of her business... For now at any rate.

She wasn't sure that giving him a ring would be appropriate. Liadan did not want her gift to symbolize anything too forward. "I certainly would hate to give the wrong impression with my gift," Liadan agreed. "Though i am not entirely sure what the gift should say..." she trailed off, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"I suppose I should like to convey my fondness for him, without being overtly forward. I should hate to overstep any boundaries..." This was all very complicated. Of course, it would be easier to simply ask Oscar what sort of gift he might appreciate. But Liadan really wanted to do this on her own, so that he would appreciate it more and be somewhat surprised. "So I suppose something which says I very much enjoy your company and am quite fond of you but am not trying to rush you into proposing?"

Pity. Rascal rather fancied the lady to be in the company of a smoking gentleman- she looked the sort. He dismissed the illusion from his mind and pulled his features in thoughtfully as she went through the motions. A delicate balance was what she desired. Certainly, as an author, he could understand the balance of intent.

But at the mention of proposing...

"So he's that sort of gentleman to you." The author's eyebrows went up suggestively. "Interesting. You're quite right about the ring and pipe, that won't do at all. Hints at either marriage or devotion. Trite, very trite indeed."

All the typical gifts were equally banal. Wallets and socks and stationary sets and watches and lyrical candleholders. He could easily comprehend Liadán's dilemma. Her perimeters were limited: presumably an appropriate sort of wizard with a proper but marginally amorous energy.

"Well I may not know your fellow..." Rascal glanced at the witch sidelong, "Though I might know his type. A real penguin, no doubt. If all else fails, gift him something that requires care, or tending," he paused to recall his previous suggestions with an exaggerated frown.

"Cactuses are much too independent, not for... now how did you put it? A certain sort. At any rate, every time he looks after your gift, he'll picture your beautiful visage."

Liadan blushed as Rascal put emphasis on the phrase that sort of gentleman. It was true, though Liadan still found herself feeling like a fool for allowing herself to have feelings for Oscar at all. Her mother had always taught her that no good ever came of love. And if she expected to marry a man like Oscar- who certainly fit the bill for a proper husband- she needed to be careful not to let her feelings get the best of her. Getting swept up into some grand romance would certainly hinder her chances. Men did not like to be chased, after all. They preferred to do the chasing, and Liadan had been making it quite easy for Oscar to see that she had interest in him.

She made a sound of interest as he suggested a gift which required care or tending. It was brilliant reasoning. Though Liadan wondered how often Oscar would tend after such a gift himself versus how often a house elf would be required to do so. It was still a beautiful thought, that every time he would be required to tend it that he would think of her. She just had to be certain that it was a gift which wouldn't offend.

"That is quite brilliant of you, Mr. Rosier," she said with a light smile. "Though I certainly doubt I should find such a gift in this shop." Liadan could look elsewhere, and perhaps get the aid of someone closer to Oscar to help her choose the proper gift for him. It was a shame she was not close with any of his relatives. Knowing another Whitman would aid in her quest greatly... Assuming, of course, the Whitman she went to for help was pleased with the idea of Liadan and Oscar being involved. Otherwise they might intentionally sabotage her attempts at proper gift giving.

Of course, she did have others to shop for. Liadan thought that having Cynric Rosier lend his help in her gift for Dominik might turn out to be quite comical. Dominik was a dear friend of hers, and he needed some laughter to break up his monotonous brooding. "What would you suggest, then, that I buy for a dear friend? One who certainly would appreciate something more whimsical. He's a sad little fellow at times, and could use some levity in his life."

The witch's blush confirmed Rascal's assertion and he smiled, like a proud little boy, at his own cunning. Marvelous. Helping somebody else navigate the treacherous waters of gift-giving was turning out to be much more fun than anticipated. He grinned at her response and would have flashed her an impudent wink if he didn't already suspect if might frighten the poor bird away.

"Not in this shop, no, but you'll find it. I'm sure, in fact." A thoughtful light entered Rascal's eye as he regarded Liadán. "You wouldn't accept an unhappy ending." Not so much a wren... perhaps a tiny osprey; what an interesting tale she might make.

But ah, his work was not done. The wizard grinned at her mention of another friend: one who was not amorous, clearly.

"Levity? You speak my language now," he mocked a subtle bow and then jumped on to the first idea that sauntered into his clamorous little mind. "Lyrical candleholders. You mustn't tell him that they sing of course, ruins the whole surprise. Have a pair of them myself. They do an excellent rendition of Carmen at the most inappropriate of times."

Rascal neatly avoided describing the one time they had nearly scared the life out of his house elf. Naturally. He wrinkled his countenance into a pensive expression before adding: "Or helium wine. Brilliant stuff, he'll be talking like a shrunken elephant all weekend."

She was glad for Rosier's sureness in her capabilities to find an appropriate present. "I very much appreciate your vote of confidence." He had given her a very good, basic idea she could launch from to figure out the perfect gift for Oscar.

And his suggestions at gifts for Dominik were... well... Quite entertaining and incredibly appropriate. She couldn't help but smile as she imagined candleholders going off in the middle of the night or while he was trying to entertain a lady... And his speaking with a high pitched voice all weekend after some joke wine was especially amusing.

"Your brilliance is quite astonishing, Mr. Rosier. Both of those are excellent choices for this particular friend. Where would one find helium wine?" Liadan asked. "Do they make the stuff in whiskey form rather than wine?" Dominik would probably much prefer a gift of some nice whiskey or other liquor instead of a wine. She could even pair it with a lovely flask of some sort.

Ah, a good deed done for today- although not quite so good for the lady's dear friend.

Either way Rascal felt quite happy with himself and snuck a hand up his cardigan sleeve, retrieving two separate cards with exaggerated flair. The first was an ostentatious thing, decorated in multi-coloured filigree. His name was printed on one side, an address on the other. The second document was plainer and infinitely more tasteful.

"Madame Featherstone's," the wizard handed Liadán the cards: "would be more than happy to oblige you a helium brew of whichever form. It's her specialty, arguably, depending on how well you can appreciate a dancing chicken foot~" He laughed once, heartily, for no obvious reason.

Rascal cleared his throat and then indicated the street outside.

"Candleholders you can find for quick order at the Weasley shop," he got along fantabulously with the staff there- no surprise. "They're sold in pairs. For duets, you understand." A single candelabra was a lonely thing indeed. "I hope that I've been of good use to you, o'damsel in distress?"
 

Liadan was glad that he had a card on hand. She looked at the name and location, then tucked it carefully away into a pocket. "Thank you very much! I might have to commission a few different helium infused brews. I can think of a few people who might enjoy such a merry little trick." She wondered if Dolly would find that amusing... So long as Liadan warned her first what the drink did, it should be alright. Dolly could use it to play a harmless trick on some of her friends.

She did not relish the idea of having to visit a joke shop to purchase the candlesticks for Dominik. But he needed something to brighten his days, and as long as she was quick about it then the trip should manage to be... safe enough, at least. Hopefully nobody would try and prank her while she was shopping. Certainly they wouldn't do such a thing...

Liadan smiled again as he called her a damsel in distress. In an unexpected moment of amusement, she offered Rascal a mock curtsy. "Quite helpful indeed, Mr. Rosier! I've a good basis as a gift for my special gentleman friend, and some ideas for a couple of other people in my life who are important to me. Your whimsy has aided me more than I would have expected."

"Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?" Liadan asked. She wasn't sure what kind of a request a man like this might make, but it was only polite to offer to thank him in some way.