ic Nothing Up My Sleeve

[Sophistemon]

Samuel stared at Lynn, his expression unreadable for a moment, until he spoke and it became obvious that he'd been busy processing what he'd seen. "I knew it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "From the moment that I saw you, I knew that you were different." He stood from his chair, slowly. "And not just magical, though that seems obvious now. But this place... it felt so familiar, when I walked in. Like I'd been somewhere like it before, and now I know why." He pointed at Lynn. "You're fey, aren't you?" He nodded, answering his own question. "Believe it or not, but I've met people like you before, in Brocéliande." Samuel chuckled, and then reached towards the zipper of his 'gently used' coat. "I don't have a stunning transformation sequence, I'm afraid." He seemed genuinely apologetic as he drew the zipper down and shed his outer layer, revealing that underneath he wore a stunningly well tailored three-piece suit that was resplendent with a crimson, gold-buttoned waistcoat. He turned, set the coat on the chair behind him, and was smiling when he faced the two women once more.  He reached toward the cuff of his left arm and drew up back to the shoulder, and then repeated the process with his right. "As you can see," he said. "There's nothing up my sleeves." He then reached towards Lynn with his right hand, thrusting it towards her face, and snapped his fingers. As he did so, a black tophat with a matching crimson band appeared in his left hand. Smiling, he donned it, and ran his fingers along the brim. "I wear monkey-suit everywhere," he admitted, a slight blush coloring his features. "It's bulletproof, you see?" He opened the jacket, revealing the protective symbols stitched into the lining. "After I got out of prison, I can't know what to expect, so... it pays to be careful." He grinned, and then reached into the jacket to remove from an interior pocket a simple length of black wood, tipped on both ends by caps of polished silver. He held it out to Lynn, but kept his grip tight. "Can you feel it?" he asked her. "I took the wood from Brocéliande, from a very special tree." He paused, thinking. "I keep it with me always. Maybe, in a way, it was the wand that drew me here, to you." He looked the Gretchen, and smiled. "To you both."

[Heritage]

Grim nodded as she leaned forward to peer at the wand. "Probably,  probably," she murmured. "Nice threads, by the way."

 

An almost child-like smile touched Shrike's lips as she muttered,"'Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.'" 

 

The changeling grinned evilly as she gnawed on her thumbnail. "You know what we should do is, head over to Rusty's after work. Get in some target practice..."

 

Her assistant nodded and crossed her arms. "Agreed." She turned to Presto and cocked her head to one side. "How do you feel about blowing up junked cars several miles away from civilization?"

Edited January 29, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel grinned at the compliment. "Thank you," he said, before turning to Gretchen. "Twelve inches, actually; I went for a solid foot. And it's oak, not holly." His voice sunk to a conspiratorial whisper. "I loved those books, too," he admitted, and gave her a wink. He then listened to their suggestion for an after-work activity, and the grin widened. "Ladies," he said. "It's been years since I've blown something up. It's the little things that you miss in prison, but really cutting loose was near the top of my list. I'm game, if you're serious about wanting to go."

[Heritage]

"Great, then it's settled! Meet back here after close, and I'll-"

 

There was a polite knock on the door. "When you've got a sec, Boss Lady, I need you to do a refund."

 

Grimalkin frowned slightly. "Do they have a receipt?"

 

"Yep!"

 

The changeling nodded and shrugged. "Okay, I'll be right there; sorry to keep you waiting, Lance."

 

"It's all good."

 

Grim rose from her chair as the vapor swirled around her once again, rewriting her back into Lynn Epstein. The Shrike twisted her ring counter-clockwise and was once again Gretchen McDaniels, the reverse transformation being much less impressive. The barista handed Presto his coat, then shook his hand; it was a firm handshake, though not particularly warm. "Well, then. Welcome aboard, Sam-uel." That little half smile again.

 

Lynn came out from behind her desk, shook Sam's hand and clasped his shoulder while beaming. "Yes, welcome, welcome! We'll see you tonight." So much power and confidence in such a small woman!

 

And then he was alone in the office to collect his thoughts, which in and of itself implied trust. What would the evening bring?

Edited February 1, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel stood there, in that empty room, holding his coat for what felt like a long time. He set his wand, that length of jet-black, petrified oak, on the table and stared down at it. "Just what do you think you're doing?" he asked. He wasn't speaking to the wand, or even really to himself. His voice was so low that his query didn't carry far beyond his lips. And then, more loudly. "Coincidence? Me, this store, the two of them -- one a fey?" He reached down and reclaimed the wand, holding it before his eyes for a moment before he slid it back into its special pocket in his tailcoat. He patted it there, consolingly, lovingly, before he donned his jacket, took up his books, and left the room to the brightness of the business proper. He approached a sales counter, a smile wide on his features, and set his purchases down. "Just these," he told the cashier. "How are you today?"

[Heritage]

GM

 

Lance sighed and looked blissfully content as he rang up Samuel's purchases.

 

"Life is good, sir; life is good. Oh, I've also been instructed to give you this-"

 

He handed the magician a small brown paper bag, from which tantalizing, buttery scents emerged.

 

"One of Mrs. Nussbaum's famous apple strudel muffins, compliments of Silberman's Books. Made from scratch every day!"

 

He put the books into a larger bag and handed them to Sam.

 

"Thank you for shopping with us, and hope to see you again soon!"

Edited February 3, 2016 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

Samuel paused, took the smaller of the two bags in one hand, and opened it. He dipped his head down and inhaled, only to be immediately sent back in time to his grandmother's kitchen, where she used to make shockingly similar pastries on a regular basis. He smiled, lost in the memory, before looking back up and taking the second, larger bag. "You know," he told the cashier. "I'm beginning to think that there might be a little magic left in this place after all." He grinned in a way that might have looked just a smidgen deranged and then took his bags one in each hand and made for the exit. It wasn't until he'd walked three or four blocks in the direction of his apartment that he realized that he was still wearing his top-hot, which garnered him a few strange looks. He sighed, set his bags down on a bench, and returned his hat to its small compartment inside of his tailcoat. He took up his packages and began to whistle something tuneless, already thinking ahead of demolishing abandoned vehicles.