ic Nothing Up My Sleeve

[Heritage]

Silberman's Books. Friday, January 15th, 2016, 11:15 am.

 

Lynn Epstein was not a fan of the sort of 'roller coaster' winter they were having this year; true, her fae physiology meant extreme temperature variations didn't bother her as much, but they were still irritating, and more importantly very hard on her mortal staff. Her assistant manager Kiki was home fighting a nasty bug, and Maddy's apartment had become a modern-day plague house, with her, her partner and child all sick and bedbound.

 

So this Friday morning saw the store manned by all of three people in their brown Silberman's aprons: Lynn, her ever-reliable assistant and battle buddy Gretchen, and the indomitable Lance, barista extraordinaire. Many of the patrons were shuffling about and coughing, holding wads of tissue and/or wearing disposable face masks, giving the place a somewhat dismal air.

 

But the store itself looked much the same: a combined front counter and espresso bar, several small tables and chairs for patrons, tidy bookshelves crammed with books, and walls covered with old movie stills and posters from the Golden Age of Magic, depicting such luminaries as Houdini, Blackstone, Thurston, Carter and of course the store's founder, the Amazing Al-Kazar.

 

The morning rush was finally drawing to a close, giving Gretchen a chance to catch her breath and fix herself a quick espresso shot as she surveyed the store; today, she wore a green flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves, black jeans and her favorite Doc Martin's. She had several of her favorite piercings in her ears, and her arm tats were clearly visible. Beside her, Lance wore classic reprint Star Wars t-shirt, jeans and a black bandana covered with tiny skulls on his head.

 

The overall feeling of crappy winter and illness put Gretchen in a darkly humorous mood, and she sent a whimsical sending to Lynn out on the floor via the magic ring on her left hand.

 

-"Bring out your dead!"-

 

-Tell me about it! I keep expecting one of those skeletons from a Hieronymus Bosch painting to show up.-

 

For her part, the attractive store owner wore a sand-colored Irish fisherman's sweater, comfy jeans and light hiking boots; being immune to illness herself, she took the lead on the sales floor, greeting patrons and offering suggestions.

Edited January 20, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

A bell above the door rang sweetly as it opened, heralding the entrance of an attractive man in his early thirties who wore a slightly ratty winter coat to protect against the unpredictable weather. He blinked as he entered, and then smiled as he realized that much had changed since he'd last payed a visit to Silberman's Books. Before the accident, before his pilgrimage to Brocéliande, before... everything that followed, Silberman's Books had been a rather drab and dour little store so far removed from the intentions of its founder -- Ira Silberman, the Amazing Al-Kazar -- that he had left without perusing its wares. He had heard in passing that the shop had fallen under new management and had, on a whim, decided to check up on it. Samuel Steiner stood in the entryway and breathed deeply, his eyes closing as he inhaled the scent of old paper and fresh coffee. He opened his eyes again and cast them across the walls, taking in the decorations, before settling his gaze on a poster of the man himself, Al-Kazar. Samuel nodded towards the poster, one magician acknowledging another, before stepping further into the shop. To think, he thought, that someone could be embarrassed about all of this. A smile fixed itself to his face as he browsed.

 

A few minutes passed as he wandered the shelves, searching for this and that, and it wasn't long before he had a small library of books clasped under one arm. The one thing that he'd hoped to find, however, eluded him, and he approached one of the shop's employees -- a pretty young woman in a green flannel shirt, with arm tattoos -- and flashed her the sort of winning smile that had once melted even the iciest of hearts to puddles of warm goo. "Hello," he greeted. "Good afternoon, miss. I'm sorry to bother, but I've looked and I can't seem to find any back issues of Unnatural Geographic. I had a pretty great collection a few years ago but they had to be, ah, sold off at an auction. I was hoping to rebuild it, since the magazine went of print a few years ago, and I was wondering if maybe I've overlooked them, or if you had any in the back?" It had been a great collection, too -- missing only a few issues -- and their loss had been one of the more devastating things to occur during his imprisonment.

[Heritage]

Gretchen stood up a little straighter at the hot guy's approach, and her best approximation of a flirty smile touched her lips.

 

"Oh yeah, we should have a few; I'm surprised you didn't-" Then she stopped herself and cocked her head to one side, the hint of a smile quickly driven away. "Wait, Un-Natural Geographic? I'm not familiar with that magazine; give me a sex- sec!"

 

Her cheeks went bright pink as she intently focused on her computer screen, her fingers nimbly dancing across the keyboard like a concert pianist. 

 

Stupid cute guy! Let's see what weird s### he's into...oh, of course he is. Well, then.

 

Her composure now returned, Gretchen's face went neutral as she reported her findings. "Sir, I regret to inform you that we do not have that particular periodical in stock. If there's a specific issue you're looking for, we may be able to order it for you through our network of suppliers."

 

She was still standing up straight, but her demeanor was now strictly professional...though she did still check him out from time to time, because duh!

Edited January 18, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel's smile widened slightly at her initial reaction -- especially when she returned his greeting with a smile of her own -- but fell again after hearing the bad news, and even further when her posture reverted to the sort of practiced professionalism that retail employees engage in when they're worried that a customer is going to be one of 'those'. Samuel didn't want to be one of 'those', and so he shook his head. "No, that's okay; I don't want to be a bother. It was a pretty rare find even back when it was being published. I'll probably have to start looking into private collections if I'm going to have any chance of finding it. I just thought, you know... It would have been right up his alley." He motioned with one hand towards the poster of Al-Kazar. "Speaking of which, when was this place renovated? I was in here a few years ago and it was just a regular old bookstore, with all of the fun sucked out. It's nice to see that it's returned to its roots. And the coffee's new, too, right? It smells amazing." Small talk. Small talk was the key, and he was dangerously out of practice after having gone five years without a meaningful conversation. What he doesn't mention, but what's been on his mind since he'd first entered the building, was how familiar the bookstore felt.

 

Samuel can't sense magic -- it's not a power that he'd ever developed, as useful as it might be. He had instead relied on seeking out whatever scraps of knowledge that he could find and having them translated, but he had been to a great many places of magical power, Brocéliande most notably, and this bookstore had the same sort of feeling to it; a paradoxically electric, stimulating calm. He felt simultaneously relaxed and energized, a feeling that he attributed to the scent of fresh, strong coffee in the air.

[Heritage]

Lynn's assistant pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes slightly, though a hint of amusement, and therefore a trace of warmth, danced behind her eyes. "Perhaps the owner might be able to help you better, sir; let me see if I can catch her eye..." She leaned to one side as she sent another sending her boss's way.

 

- Hey Boss Lady. I think we have another Hogwarts grad up here at the counter. -

 

- Is he cute? He looks cute from here. What house? -

 

- Yes, he is very cute. And I'm thinking Slytherin. -

 

- Oh, you think everyone's in Slytherin! Not everyone interested in magic is an awful person, y'know! -

 

- My bullet scars and I prefer to remain judgmental. -

 

- Fine, I'll be right there. -

 

Turning back to the 'handsome devil', Gretchen smiled like a cat. "Oh look. Here she comes now."

 

- Give it to him with both barrels, boss. -

 

- You know it! -

 

A very attractive- wow, scratch that; an extremely attractive woman stepped over to greet the curious customer; her smile was warm, her eyes dark and mysterious, and curly brown hair tumbled down to her shoulders. She held out a warm, soft hand with a surprisingly strong grip in greeting. There was a hint of a family resemblance to the posters of the store's founder on the walls, and her voice flowed like sweet butterscotch.

 

"Hello, I'm Lynn Epstein, owner of Silberman's Books. How can I help you today, Mister...?"

 

- Pure. Evil. -

Edited January 18, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

The first woman, Gretchen, was attractive. The second woman, Lynn, was... something else altogether. Not only was she gorgeous in the most classical way, but it felt as though the air of stimulating serenity that permeated the building seemed to radiate out from her. She was like a brightly blazing star and Samuel was immediately caught up in her orbit, helpless to escape the pull of her beauty. Her familial resemblance to Al-Kazar was lost on him at first, relegated to a faint, tickling recognition at the back of his brain that was swept away when he reached out and took her hand. He marveled at the softness of her skin, the quiet strength of her grip, and was so enthralled by her presence that he forgot to provide a false name in answer to her question.

 

"Steiner," he said. "Samuel Steiner. Sam."

 

If he'd had the presence of mind to realize it, Samuel would have been embarrassed by himself: acting like a teenager and all but tripping over himself in front of a beautiful woman was not the best way to make a good impression. But he just couldn't help himself; she was the most amazing thing that he'd seen in over five years -- the second most beautiful, if you counted the dingy old bus that had ferried him back into the city proper following the completion of his sentence. Even then, it might be a tie.

[Heritage]

Lynn gracefully inclined her head. "A pleasure, Mr. Steiner. Is there anything I can help you find today?"

 

Something about this guy struck her as familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it; luckily her assistant was but a thought away.

 

- Google 'Samuel Steiner' and any connection with magic; see if you get anything. -

 

- I'm on it. Let me see...okay...yep, a Samuel Steiner, aka 'Presto the Preposterous', served five years for crimes involving mystical powers; before that, he performed on stage under the same name. Looks like I was right. -

 

- Not necessarily, but thanks. -

 

During this mental exchange, she appeared to give Sam her undivided attention, though to be honest she was probably going to miss a detail or two.

Edited March 11, 2017 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel withdrew his hand from hers with no small amount of reluctance and then used it to rub the back of his neck. "Ah, right. I hate to be a bother, but I was wondering if you guys had any issues of Unnatural Geographic tucked away in storage somewhere? Or, I guess, if you might know where else I could find them? Like I told your associate, I once had a pretty amazing collection but then they needed to be sold, and now that they're out of print they're almost impossible to find in decent condition." He was prattling, chattering on like a adolescent schoolboy. He'd performed for heads of state and royalty before without having been this nervous -- just what was so special about this woman that she was making him act this way? Samuel paused, cleared his throat, composed himself, and continued. When he spoke again, it was with a well-practiced calm. "I'm sorry," he said. "I really shouldn't bother you with something like this; I'm sure that you're busy. It's really something that I should solve by going online and hunting down a collector. I just thought, you know, I had heard that the store had been renovated and I wanted to check it out and see what had changed while I'd been away." He smiled the same ice-melting smile at Lynn that he had only just recently used on Gretchen. "I'm really impressed with what you've done with the place. It wasn't really anything special when I was in here last, but you've really made it worthy of the Silberman name." He turned to the side, to face the poster of Al-Kazar, and his smile faded a bit. "I was a huge fan of his when I was growing up, actually. I used to have a ton of his old performances on VHS and I'd watch them over and over again, until the tapes got ruined. I used to think, you know, if I saw it just one more time I might figure out how he was doing it all. And the way that he could captivate a crowd! He was nothing less than a master of his craft." He sighed and turned back to Lynn. "Anyway, I'm sorry to have bothered you with all of this."

[Heritage]

It is indeed true that flattery will get you everywhere; now it was Lynn's turn to smile and get a little pink, mostly in the cheeks, but also the tips of her pointed ears, though thankfully her curly hair hid them.

 

"Well, I like to think he'd...appreciate the effort." She cocked her head to one side. "Wow; not too many people know Great-Grampa Ira these days; you must really be a true fan."

 

Then she lowered her voice and leaned forward conspiratorially; her hair smelled really good. "You know...I still have some of his things in back in storage; his first turban...a few of his scimitars...the mirror from the Mirror Illusion..." Then she gave him an innocent look that wasn't remotely innocent. "Wanna come see?"

 

Gretchen rolled her eyes and shook her head; yep, the boss was laying it on awful thick. 

Edited January 20, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

The scent of her hair, the delicate floral perfume, almost sent him reeling again -- but then the neurons started firing and his eyes opened wide for another reason altogether. "Wait," he said, raising up both hands with the palms out. "Grandpa Ira?" The smile that split his face then wasn't so much the heart-breaker that he'd employed to such great effect before as it was the joyful grin of a scruffy child given carte blanche in a candy store. "You're Al-Kazar's great-granddaughter? I didn't even know that he had any children, let alone grandchildren! Did you ever meet him? What was he like?" And then, a split-second later, another synapse clicked into place and sent off a message, causing realization to dawn on Samuel's face. "You have the mirror?" He swallowed his excitement and tried to compose himself, but nevertheless motioned for her to lead the way. "Yes. Yes, I want to see it. I didn't even realize that Al-Kazar's props were still just laying around! I'd always just assumed that what hadn't been lost or thrown away all of those years ago was just sold to museums and private collectors. I had no idea... If I had, I'd have tried to get my hands on some of it myself years ago. The Mirror Illusion was one of the ones that I'd watch over and over again. I have to see it in person!"

Edited January 20, 2016 by Sophistemon

[Heritage]

"Then follow me..." The smiling shopkeeper led Samuel towards her office near the back of the store; once inside, she closed the door behind them. The room was decent sized, the the large number of bookshelves crammed with books and odd nick-knacks made it seem smaller. It was dominated by a large old desk, behind with was high backed leather swivel chair, though there were two inviting leather chairs for guests. "Please, have a seat," Lynn said as she moved to her chair. "Help yourself to some candy."  The well-stocked candy dish wasn't the only thing on the desk; there were also a computer monitor, keyboard and green banker's lamp as well. The desk and chair should have dwarfed the elfin brunette, yet the strength of her presence was in no way diminished. Above and behind her head, what looked like two vintage firearms were mounted in a frame, one a lever action rifle, the other a revolver of some kind; both were ornate and looked unfamiliar to anyone who grew up on cowboy movies.

 

"So yes, I would love to give you an opportunity to look over Al-Kazar's things, Mr Steiner, but first I have a question for you." She suddenly leaned forward and placed her palms flat on her desk; the alluring quality about her seemed to vanish, leaving her stern, forceful and direct. "What exactly brings Presto the Preposterous into my shop?"

[Sophistemon]

Samuel followed after Lynn, his excitement nearly palatable in the air around him. Although Al-Kazar hadn't been the one to introduce him to magic, Samuel had still idolized the man as a child. He had modeled aspects of his own stage persona after the man, having gone so far as attempting to replicate and even surpass the turbaned magician's more astonishing feats of illusion. In fact, if he had ever stopped to think about it, his own eventual pursuit of real mystic power might have stemmed from the rumors of Al-Kazar's dabbling in the same. It was a surging resurgence of that childish adoration that blinded the formerly malcontentious magician to the events that were unfolding around him. When Lynn led him into a room apparently devoid of the promised artifacts, he didn't notice. When she bade him to sit and help himself to a handful of sweets, he complied. And when her demeanor changed and she revealed her knowledge of his past, it took him about one and one-half sentences to catch up.

 

"Well," he began. "Like I said, I'd heard that the store had been redone, and I thought that I'd check in and see if you had any copies of some of the books and magazines that I'd lost. I don't know if I really expected you to have any Unnatural Geographic, but it was worth a..." The blood drained from his face and one jellybean slipped from numb fingers while another caught in his throat. He coughed once, twice, three times to dislodge it and stared across the table at a suddenly very different-looking young woman. "Oh," he murmured, a pit opening at the base of his stomach. "I... that was all... Look, that was all a very long time ago. I don't do any of that stuff anymore. I really just came in to check things out, and to see what you had in stock." He carefully replaced the lid on the candy dish and moved to stand up from his chair. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time." He had somehow managed to force his face into a convincing mask of placidity. "I expect that you'll want me to turn out my pockets before I go?"

[Heritage]

The shopkeeper sighed and shook her head. "Nothing of the sort." She gestured towards the recently-vacated chair. "Mr. Steiner...Samuel...please, take a seat. We have very important matters to discuss."

 

Once the former magician was once again seated, Lynn leaned forward again, but this time her expression was open and accepting; truly her moods seemed to flow into one another like ripples on a pond. 

 

"I like to think of myself as a good judge of character; I'm frequently wrong, but I still look to see the best in people. The shame and profound regret I saw on your face just now told me more about your abortive criminal career than I could ever learn by talking to your parole officer."

 

She waved her hand, and a crystal decanter filled with ice water and two matching glasses suddenly appeared on her desk. This was not misdirection or a clever mechanical trick; Sam would've spotted the apparatus instantly. No, this was something forming in thin air out of nothing, though delicate trails of vapor were visible rising from the newly-created objects. 

 

Lynn poured them both a glass of ice water, slices of lemon tumbling in the decanter, and placed one directly in front of Sam.

 

"Now," she said, with a twinkle in her eye. "Tell me about magic."

Edited January 21, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel paused, mid-exit, and slowly sat himself back down. As Lynn spoke, the iron forcefulness went out of her and it wasn't long before she was that same pleasant, beautiful young woman that he'd met only a few minutes before. When she spoke about wanting to see the best in people, and then about shame and regret, he felt something gnaw at his heart that he hadn't felt in a very long time. Here, maybe, was something that might actually be trying to understand him. And then, with a simple wave of her hand, she conjured beverages -- and everything changed. A look of joyful amazement etched writ itself large across his face. He glanced about, slightly, subtly, searching for hidden compartments or other apparatuses that might explain the sudden appearance, but he did so half-heartedly. He knew magic; he'd spent years studying it in all of its forms, and this was the real deal, true blue. And she had done it so effortlessly, too. There had been no look of concentration, no muttered incantations or complicated gestures; just a simple wave of the hand. She hadn't even needed a wand! It was with that last thought that the thick, black-blooded vein of jealousy began to pump its poison into Samuel. It had been so easy for her. So simple. She hadn't even really needed to try. And was that really surprising? Here she was, the great-granddaughter of Al-Kazar himself, so what wonder was it that magic ran in her blood? Some people got all of the luck, while others had to scrabble in the dirt for whatever forgotten scraps of ancient knowledge they could find until their fingernails fell off and their callouses had callouses that tore open and bled. He snapped out of his melancholy just in time to hear her ask her question, and to see the friendliness shining in her eyes.

 

He breathed, calmed himself, and spoke. "Magic is... or can be... anything." he said. "But to me, magic is everything. I live for it, top to bottom. From simple parlor tricks like pulling a nickle out of someone's nose to..." he motioned towards the glasses, and the decanter that rested between them on the table. "To that. The real thing. It makes me feel alive in a way that nothing else does. Forget drugs, right? Who needs cocaine when you can fly, or move a car with a flick of the wrist. Nothing else compares, not even close." He closes his eyes for a moment, and breathes deep. "But it's a lot like holding fire, too. Beautiful, but dangerous. You have to be very careful or it can backfire. People can get hurt." He swallows, and takes a long drink of conjured water.

 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm rambling. I just... I haven't had anyone to talk to about this in a really long time."

Edited January 24, 2016 by Sophistemon

[Heritage]

Lynn nodded in shared understanding as Samuel spoke; this was truly a man who'd see both faces of magic, the ecstatic highs and the terrifying lows. Magic touched you in a way that 'mundanes' would never fathom, which was probably for the best.

 

When he finished his emotional discourse, she waved her hand and giggled. "Hey, no, it's fine; I'm minoring in psych at FCU! I'm fully equipped to rub my jaw thoughtfully and say 'And how does that make you feel?' every five minutes."

 

But then her tone became more serious. "Uh, forgive me for asking, but what are you doing for money right now? I know having trouble finding work after your release is a leading cause of recidivism, and I hate to see anyone caught in that trap."

[Sophistemon]

Samuel raised both hands in a traditional 'No!' arrangement and shook his head. "Please, please, I get enough psychoanalysis from my court-appointed therapist to last me a lifetime; I don't need any more." He was grinning while he said it, though, like he was letting her in on joke. But at her mention of money, that smile wavered. "Well," he said. "It's funny that you should mention that. I've been, ah, performing at small venues lately." He snaps the fingers of his right hand and a small card appears in his grip -- an act of legerdemain, not of real magic, but somewhat impressive nonetheless. He hands it to her to read. Mystical Marvels & Extraordinary Entertainment, it boasted. Let World Famous Magician SAMUEL STEINER Host Your Next Event. Birthday Parties, Bar/Bat Mitzvahs & Weddings. Rates Negotiable. A phone number -- cell, not home -- was printed at the bottom. "Business isn't exactly booming," admitted the former celebrity. "After... what happened... nobody will let me on stage anymore. I couldn't even headline a high school prom, people are so afraid that I'd hold their kids for ransom. They actually told me that, once. They were afraid that I'd hold their kids for ransom. What would I do with a gymnasium full of teenagers, anyway? I used to rob banks, for crying out loud, I never held ransoms!" He shook his head, trying to clear the darkness away. "Anyway. A few days ago I worked a birthday party for some kid and his dad tried to stiff me. I managed to, uh, convince him otherwise, but it turns out that I have all of the negatives of a criminal reputation and none of the positives, like being known as a guy that you don't want to mess with." He sighed. "I've just got to keep at it. A few more months, maybe a year of things not going wrong, of not relapsing, and maybe people will start trusting me again. Maybe I should think about performing overseas, under a new name? I was thinking of something like 'Magnus the Magnificent' or something. What do you think?"

[Heritage]

Lynn's expression became rather pained as Samuel described his recent financial troubles; she'd had a feeling this might be the case. At his suggestion of a new stage name, she shrugged.

 

"That might not be a bad idea; to be honest, and this might not appeal to you, you might want to take your act in another direction. Like maybe wearing a mask or makeup, or introducing elements of mime. In the Golden Age of Conjuring, there were quite a few professionals who didn't speak a word."

 

Another thought occurred to her, and she rested her chin in her hand and studied the down-on-his-luck magician for what seemed like an eternity, her brow slightly furrowed; at one point she sat up and cryptically looked over her shoulder at the bookcase behind her for several seconds. At length, she finally spoke, albeit with some hesitation. 

 

"An idea has come to me...of a way I might be able to help you; I think you might even like it. But it would require...a great deal of trust, on both our parts."

 

She leaned forward again, those dark beautiful eyes pinning Sam to his chair like daggers.

 

"Would you help me make the world a better place?" It did not appear to be an offer she made lightly. 

[Sophistemon]

Samuel nodded when Lynn mentioned masks, makeup, and mime. A completely new appearance, in a completely new place, with a completely new act... It meant starting over, of course, but wasn't that what he wanted? A clean break from his old life, a fresh start somewhere else? But if that were true, why had he come back to Freedom City, the site of his greatest failures and most humiliating defeat? Because, he thought. I have unfinished business here. And then, Lynn had rested her chin in her hand and stared at him for a while, musing over something that he could only guess at. It seemed for a moment that she was looking through him, her eyes piercing his flesh like twisting gimlets. Samuel swallowed, suddenly nervous to be sitting alone in a room with a beautiful magician that he knew nothing about -- her power, her intentions, were a complete mystery to him. At last, finally, she spoke of help and the necessity of trust, and those fears began to melt away. She leaned in, then, over the table, her eyes shining like polished stones, and he sat rigidly in his seat. When she'd finished saying her piece, and her words hung turning in the air between them, his answer slipped from him unbidden, in a way that was surprising but not at all regrettable.

 

"Yes," he said. "What do I need to do?"

[Heritage]

The lovely young brunette laughed, and the air seemed to ripple with her mirth. "For right now, nothing, though you look like you could use some more water." She refilled his glass as she sent a message to Gretchen.

 

- Hey, you! Can you come in here for a sec? -

 

- Please tell me you're not hiring him, too. -

 

- Not exactly; you'll see. -

 

A few moments later, Gretchen came into the office quite unannounced (at least as far as Sam knew), where she leaned up against the door, crossed her arms and scowled. "This had better be good."

 

"Oh it is, it is!" Lynn turned to the bewildered ex-convict. "Mr. Steiner, how would you like to help my assistant Gretchen identify, itemize and cataloge everything in my great-grandfather's collection? This would include all the props, costumes, books and mysterious curios he picked up in his travels. It would only be part-time, maybe ten to fifteen hours a week, and you'd have to do exactly as Gretchen says, but I could offer you...say twenty bucks an hour as a contractor? No benefits, strictly 1099."

 

Gretchen's eyes first widened, then narrowed as she scrutinized her potential 'assistant'.

 

"Interesting..."

 

Edited January 24, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel smiled, thanked Lynn, and took a drink. The two of them sat in a few moments of increasingly uncomfortable silence before Gretchen entered, at which point the magician understood. Sending, he thought. Never did get around to learning that one. And then, another thought: Just how many more people in this building possess the Gift? His internal musings were put on hold when Lynn turned her focus back in his direction and made an offer that struck him numb. He sat there, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes until her posture shifted just slightly enough to clue him in on his own awkwardness. He blinked, cleared his throat, and spoke. His words were measured, chosen carefully, and delivered with great care. "I am honored," he said. "That you would grant me the opportunity to work with the personal effects of one of the greatest magicians to have ever lived." And then came the inevitable 'but'. "But," he continued. "Are you sure that you... really know what you're getting into?" He lowered his eyes. "My, uh, reputation being what it is... I would hate for this place to suffer because of me, because I'm here." He sighed through his nose, and then took a breath. "Lynn... miss Epstein. You have to know that this is more than I deserve."

[Heritage]

The store owner smiled and raised a finger. "First off, it's Lynn, always Lynn. Second,  let me worry about what's best for my store; you'd be surprised what I've weathered in my lifetime. And third-"

 

She got up from her desk, came around it and then sat on its edge. "You deserve what everyone who makes a mistake deserves: a second chance. You screwed up, got caught and did your time; you're a free man now. And all too often, people in this country forget that. They choose to smear someone's life with a permanent stain because they got desperate and did something dumb once, and now they're never allowed to forget it."

 

She shrugged. "I made...so many mistakes when I was young; I hurt people and disrespected their property. But because people had faith in me, I was able to turn it around, and now I help people in the same situation. It's what I do; well, that and sell books, obviously."

 

And then Lynn leaned forward and lowered her voice slightly. "And if you keep your nose clean, check in with your parole officer, and Gretchen says you're doing a good job? Then we can talk about next steps, and you maybe giving a little something back to this city, okay?" She winked; what exactly did that mean?

 

Gretchen did the 'I'm watching you' thing with two fingers, and smiled a half-smile; it somehow managed to suggest both encouragement and 'watch your ass' at the same time.

Edited January 25, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel sat there for a moment, turning things over in his head. He'd come into the store for magazines, for a few books to read between birthday party performances. Instead, he'd found... friendship, maybe. Employment, definitely. And something else, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it was definitely there, just slightly out of reach. For now. "If that's the case, then, Lynn..." He looked up, found her eyes with his own, and held the gaze for a moment. "Yes. Yes, absolutely. I'd be honored. Thank you." Inside, Samuel was dancing jigs of unadulterated joy. This was, potentially, the start of something new and amazing -- though he had some trouble understanding what she'd meant about giving something back to Freedom City. Whatever it was, it could wait until after he'd figured some things out for himself.

Edited January 25, 2016 by Sophistemon

[Heritage]

"Great! Welcome aboard!" She firmly shook his hand, then she caught herself. "Damn, now we're gonna have three people named 'Sam' hanging around the store; that won't be remotely confusing."

 

Gretchen shrugged. "Well, at least he's the only one with testicles. That should make things easier." She smirked. "Or we can could just call him Samuel."

 

The lovely brunette looked extremely relieved as she got up and went back behind her desk and started opening drawers. "Right, of course! Okay, Sam..uel, let me get some paperwork for you to fill out, for tax purposes and such, and I'll need to make a copy of your ID."

 

Meanwhile, a mental conversation was going on...

 

- So, whaddya think? Too impulsive, right? -

 

- It's actually not the worst idea you've ever had. -

 

- Wow; that's like a ringing endorsement from you. -

 

- But you're dancing around it. Stop being such a tease. -

 

- What? In what way? -

 

- The hero thing. Just tell him already. -

 

- You're usually the one who says I share my secret identity too easily! -

 

- Well, you do. But in this case...I think it's the right thing to do. -

 

- Okay. Alright, I'll just- -

 

- No. Let me do it for once. After all, I'm the one following in the legacy of his hero. -

 

- That's...okay, you're right! Go for it. -

 

- Cool. I've been working on this. -

 

- Oh jeez... -

 

After exchanging a series of meaningful looks as Lynn pulled out the various IRS forms, the two young women looked at Samuel and smiled, one warm yet tinged with concern, the other a bit more reserved but now with a hint of mischief as she moved to close the transom window over the office door.

 

"Sooo, Gretchen and I were just talking..well, actually thinking, but you know what I mean. And we agreed that, well, there's a time to be cryptic and a time to put all your cards on the table." She sighed and shook her head. "We don't just sell books around here. As my lovely assistant Gretchen will now demonstrate."

 

That actually made her snarky barista blush a bit a she tried to hide her genuine smile behind sarcasm. "Aw, gee thanks, boss." Then she poked Samuel's shoulder and held out her left hand, which bore a simple silver ring with a large red ruby. A ruby that now somehow looked familiar... "Recognize this?" She indicated a framed 8 by 10 of Al-Kazar on a nearby bookshelf with a tilt of her head. "Back in his day, the ring was gold. And a bit more...Liberace."

 

She smirked again, then gave the ring a sharp clockwise twist; suddenly Gretchen rose up in the air, back arched, head thrown back and arms and legs out at her sides. There was a weird stuttering light like an old movie projector as the young woman's clothing shifted and flowed, until she hung in the air, wrapped in black leather and a hooded cloak as black as night! A bird-like silver mask covered the top half of her face, and bore another ruby, almost as large as the one on the clasp of her cloak. Hovering in the air with her arms spread, the cloak transformed her into a marvelous bird of prey. "I am...the Shrike!"

 

Lynn herself was actually damn impressed; she even clapped. "Wow...damn it, that's..you are so getting a raise!"

 

Gretchen dropped to one knee and clenched her fist in triumph. "Yes!"

Edited October 27, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel, who has spent the last five years in prison and had, since his release, paid far more attention to the classified ads than to the sensationalist daily coverage of of Freedom City's bustling super-heroic community, had no idea who the Shrike was. With that said, Gretchen's sudden mystical transformation into a masked vigilante was an impressive feat of conjuring and he couldn't help a smile from forming on his lips at the display, and he clapped politely for a few moments to show his appreciation. "Your clothes," he said, reaching out to run a finger along the fabric of her cloak. "Your costume. Summoned from somewhere else and mystically exchanged for your streetwear, or simply conjured out of nothing?" He looked, then, towards the ring. "And the ring... you're using Al-Kazar's old artifacts? Is there anyone here who isn't magic?" With that, he reached into his back pocket and removed a depressingly slim and battered leather wallet and pulled from it his driver's license. He slid it across the table to Lynn and took the tax forms in exchange, which he began to fill out. "Serendipity," he said as he began to write. "Is a type of luck that takes the form of finding valuable or otherwise pleasant things that you weren't looking for." He looked up at them both, the shopekeeper and her assistant. "Meeting you two today is probably the most serendipitous thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life."

[Heritage]

Gretchen stood, dusted herself off and looked down at her costume. "Hmm. I actually have no idea." She reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out a wallet. "Well, the stuff in my pockets carries over, so I'm not sure what that means."

 

"It's inconclusive," said Lynn, nodded with mock seriousness as she laid Samuel's IDs on her flatbed scanner. "More tests need to be run, involving a wide variety of pants and pocket contents, just to be sure. Gum wrappers, paper clips, Pez dispensers..."

 

Her assistant stopped and put her hands on her hips as she glared at her boss, "Hey, wait a minute. Am I the only who's going to put a silly outfit on? You need to change, too."

 

Her employer shook her head and chuckled. "Okay, first off, I don't have to do anything; this is my store, my rules. Secondly, yours was way too cool! How can I possibly top that?"

 

"Why do you have to top it? Just do the thing, he'll be impressed."

 

Lynn threw her head back over her chair and groaned. "Fine, I'll do it!" She launched herself forward, put her hands on the desk and gave Samuel a big grin as she indicated the Shrike with a jerk of her head. "You think that's impressive? Brother, you ain't seen nothin' yet!" She kicked up a leg and threw up her hand like an old timey pin-up as a strange grayish vapor started swirling around her outstretched arm, coiling around it and down; it flowed over her completely, leaving a rather more elfin creature in its wake. Grimalkin was quite a bit thinner than Lynn, with a more youthful face, and her auburn hair was short and spiky, revealing a pair of cute pointed ears. The jeans and sweater were gone, replaced by a rather snug leather suit in black and midnight blue leather. Black soft boots adorned her feet, which matched her fingerless gloves and domino mask.

 

"Behold Grimalkin, Mistress of Mystery! Righter of wrongs and biweekly payroll checks!"

 

"Wow. Even for you, that pun was bad."

 

"Thank you!" A starlet smile was frozen on her face as she wiggled her jazz hands. "So, whaddya think?" she asked Samuel through clenched teeth; her voice was noticeably pitched higher as Grim.

Edited January 29, 2016 by Heritage