The strange-looking man stood there watching the people go by from within his door frame, he was fiddling with something in his hands, a flash of something; perhaps a piece of brass, as he turned it over muttering to himself. He chuckled to no one and ducked inside the darkened doorframe and vanished.

"So, he intends to build a canon, eh?" he chuffed to himself as he squeezed through the narrow hallway. He grabbed the door handle to the rear door and opened it casually into a carefully kept flower garden. His hand briefly dipped into his pocket as he stepped into the Garden and he smiled at his handy work.

Over the passing days, he made efforts to clean up the place. When he got here it was like a small jungle. He even found an adorable little gopher hole which he intended to keep as a pet. Maybe. If it bothered him he'd plug it with a flower pot and plant daisies in its place.

The plot wasn't big enough for a full garden, or even half of one but it did let him plant a few personal favorites, Parsley, a few sprigs of sage, mint, A timid rosebush, and a lilac bush in the corner. Equal parts practical and eye-catching, Though he did find the parsley a tad unsightly, It was rather tasty so he kept a bit of it around.

He was also thinking about getting something more vibrant put in. Perhaps he'd get some marigolds or snapdragons. if he couldn't find any, and oleander would do instead, even if they were a pain to put in,

Perennials were like that.

He leaned down to touch one of the leaves on the rosebush, he drew a pen from his pocket. A smooth black shaft and brassy tip appeared in his hand as he touched the pen's nib to the delicate green leaf. He scratched out a quick series of movements, leaving behind the signature of one Darwin St. Zachery Von Helmut. He smiled to himself, he figured if he was going to be in business he should at least have a proper signature to go by. Though he briefly played with the idea of a pseudonym, however, he didn't think that would hold in legal matters.

What did please him was the success of his experiment. Making the nibs was much harder than he first expected, but it was nothing he couldn't hammer out eventually.

What was more of an interest to him, was the enchantment he'd plundered from the remaining books in Darwin's library, and their adapted use in calligraphy. The foolishly named, Morton's Fiendish Rake, or the ironically fitting title, The Bloodletter.

Nasty piece of dark magic, one cut would would "leave a mark no man could seal nor erase." The little devil was likely intended as a torture device or some cruel weapon. However, when trimmed back a little, the little bugger will only leave a slight mark on a surface, any surface as it turns out. He thought about trimming that too but figured it would be too much effort, aside from the fact that it required a load of tinkering and fiddling to accomplish. Which he could do, but would be a pain on multiple levels in constructing the necessary circles and nonsense.

That said, most of the magic he knew was mostly created because someone was determined to hurt someone else in a new and incorrigible manner. But that didn't mean he couldn't put the little bastards to work all the same.

As much as he'd love to start a career in weapons, that sounded more like a headache and too much stress for a vacation. So he'd settled on stationary.

He would also want to start selling some kind of erasing tool alongside it as well, hmm. that would take more work than the pen. But since he knew Which function of the device performed the deed, he could easily find a countersign of some sort. Maybe he'd dig something up in the library

Placing the pen back in his pocket he examined the leaf more closely, Inspecting the "wound" as it were, on the plant leaf. plucking it from the stem, he turned it over and looked at the backside.

There was a telltale sign of scratching, but also a slight scorching that formed the actual lettering. Though upon closer inspection, it appeared less a scorch mark and closer to a mark left by rot or degeneration.

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Nothing that could spread, it was limited only to the scratch marks as far as he could tell. Good, when he read the description for The Bloodletter charm, he was worried it would cause the entire paper to rot out from under it, utterly useless for documentation. That would defeat the whole point behind making a pen.

Standing up he turned to walk back towards the door, pocketing the leaf alongside the pen as he did. Stepping inside he closed the door behind him.

He ascended the steps directly beside the door, which made the hallway so cramped and narrow, up into his parlor and across the room, then up the next flight, into the workshop area. Where he kept all the tools and notes of his experiments. Mostly Jeweler and Tinker Tools, alongside with little personal project to hone his borrowed skills on. But he didn't need them to place fine jewels or fix pans. He had other intentions for them. Much more Profitable intentions.

He drew out a small frame from a shelf and placed the leaf inside it, aside from many, many other more mangled and unsightly experiments. Whoever said Innovation was easy was a clear idiot, but so were the Nihilist and the Cynic. Well, that last one not so much, but they were so, bloody annoying.

He glanced at his other experiments and grimaced, small green stains that were plant matter originally, some less recognizable than others. putting it back on the self he began looking over his tools and checking in on other projects.

He picked up a small smooth metal plate, with an embossed Five-point star on it. He took out his pen and quickly etched two small greek symbols at the peak and bottom two points. The medallion flares with a dim red light before dying down.

The demon then places the device in his pocket and sniffs.

He grabs a small pocketful of fine sand from a jar and slowly pours it onto the ground nearby, watching it fall into a pile on the floor. keenly watching each grain slip through his fingers. When the sand is all gone, he looks at it disappointed and slowly turns in place as if expecting someone to pipe up with a question or comment,

He then frowns and sniffs again. something tickles his nose and he sneezes violently. The moment he does however the whole room explodes into a thick cloud of smoke, ash, and a loud peal of thunder as he did. The force of it all knocks him to the floor as the dust settles.

"Not, cough, the result I, cough, Expected." He choked out as the dust settled. The finer points of magic had escaped him. It wasn't enough to force energy into an object, there must also be instructions to guide it. These were often derived from Intent, specific emotions, or deep-seated instinctual drives.

That also made it very easy to screw up, because if someone doesn't say or write exactly what they want. strange things happen. For example, the Charm he'd just been working on was supposed to attract dust to itself for easy cleaning, instead, he was clobbered by the violent convergence of about half a pound of the stuff getting ripped out under the floorboards.

"If I had to guess, cough, I forgot to distinguish between the 'attraction' and 'acceleration' in the process, Even though they should be (cough) interchangeable right now," he grumbled tossing the charm aside on the table and finished dusting himself off. Damn thing near caved his skull in, he'd forgotten how much dust weighs once you put it all together.

"A Ton of Feathers or a Ton of Steel. Either one will kill you if it lands on your head. Now, I have a way of getting it all in one place, now I just need a way to get rid of it all. Preferably without causing a small cyclone in the process." He dusted himself once more, Picking the cham back up, he added a small set of marks between the symbols and then re-examined the whole thing carefully.

He held the item away from himself this time as he triggered it, the markings flared a similar red color and He waited for a reaction from the magic charm, he didn't have to wait long.

Dust, still hanging in the air suddenly changed course, drawn to the sigils' inescapable power. the red glow acting as a lasso to reign in the rouge particles. Drawing them in, like a fisherman reeling in his line.

Once again the Dust rose out from of its hidden places and corners, the fallen sand rising upwards along with many other motes as they each began to claim upon each other in a bizarre tower, like a miniature Babal being constructed at his feet. It rose ever higher trying to scrape away at heaven and eventually enter, and soon the pull of that charm held so much sway that the tower became self-supporting, as it rose into the air, completely divorcing itself from the ground and it became an ethereal golden cloud, drawn towards the hand of the creature beyond it.

The Demon grinned as he let the power of the charm lapse. The sand fell into a disordered pile, collapsing and scattering its mass in the process, much like the scattering of people at the site of that Infamous tower. Leaving a fine coating across the floor.

He smiled to himself at the success.

"I think this one will be Double Price, no, Triple." then he thought to himself.

"I'd better check the market, see if anything is competing already with this. Besides, It's an excuse to go for a night on the town. " And with that, he set down his new charm and descend to retrieve his coat. It was then the Demon decided he would also buy a hat.

Because he like the idea of a jaunty cap.