tabula_rasa

Vincent was still up, burning the midnight oil on a story he was getting ready for submission to a magazine, when the lights went out. Emergency power kicked on a few moments later, although the lights were dimmed. He reached for the phone.

"Vincent speaking."

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She hadn't expected Vincent to pick up, but since the rocky introduction to the team, he'd been rather quiet. Yankee Clipper had seemed to accept the new Champion as well.

"Vincent, it's Jenny. The power is out at the bookstore. I wondered if the blackout made it that far."

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"Yes and no." He glances around. "Power went out, but backups are in place. Seem rather weak though."

He really should talk to Corey about some improvements he could make to the place. Aesthetically, it was beautiful, but he had some fortifications in mind.

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"I'm going to go ahead and close the bookstore early. No sense in keeping it open. I'll walk home. Shouldn't take more than a half hour."

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"By yourself in a blackout? No ma'am. I'll come walk with you." Vincent's brown furrows.

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Jenny let the "ma'am" go, she was older and it wasn't worth being snippy about. The Heir of Latveria hadn't had a chance yet to see what she could do to a mugger on the street if she were so inclined.

"Thank you, Vincent. It's not necessary, but if you're insistent, I'm leaving the shop in about fifteen minutes."

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"Excellent. I'll see you in ten." Vincent hangs up the phone and heads to the roof. He's called upon Hermod plenty of times for transport. Time to practice a bit more with one of his other patrons. He walks to the edge of the roof and hops up on the edge, spreading his arms.

"Storm-bringer... let me be like a leaf on your winds."

There's a faint rumble of thunder somewhere in the night sky, followed by the sound of winds rushing, as Vincent finds himself abruptly seized by a torrent of air, propelling him across the city. It's not the smooth flight he could conjure with a basic spell, or technology, but it certainly does the job.

He'll arrive at the bookshop as anticipated, if in a bit more disarray.

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Jenny was extinguishing the hurricane lamps she'd lit when she heard someone outside the still unlocked front door. She had no way of knowing if it was Vincent or a customer coming in out of the night for something hot to drink. It was, after all, shop policy that no one was turned away.

She relit the lamp in her hands and went to peer out of a window.

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He does his best to straighten his hair as he approaches the shop.

The wind rustles a bush behind him, and the hair on his neck stands up. He stops in his tracks, and turns around slowly.

Nothing, and more nothing.

He scolds himself for being jumpy, and opens the door. "Jenny?"

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The lamp in her hands illuminated her face from below, giving her a scary look. "Hi Vincent. It's all right, come on in."

She set the lamp on the checkout desk. "You've never been here, have you? It's kind of creepy at night, being an old, converted house. Take a look around if you like. I'm not quite ready to lock up. There's hot water for tea."

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Now that, he can deal with. Various mystical trainings have left him accustomed to working by candlelight. If asked, he'd probably say he thinks it highlights the shape of her face quite nicely,, in fact.

"Can't say I've had the pleasure until now, no. I find the age of it rather charming though." He nods at the offer of water and goes about fixing himself a cup, still giving a furtive glance or two towards outside. "Blackouts like this common in New Orleans?"

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"I don't really know, I haven't been here all that..." she paused to count... "Wow, it's been nearly two years. I supposed I have been around long enough to judge the blackouts. Not too often. On very hot nights the power will go out, and sometimes they coincide with the festival days on Corey's calendar. I chalk it up to voodoo in the air."

She continued with the closing list, which included cleaning out the coffee pot. "The second floor has more books, and a gathering room. Out back are the slave quarters turned into studio apartments. Miles, the owner, likes to practice what he preaches. Good, thought provoking conversation over coffee and tea, and a warm bed and hot shower for anyone who needs it. Miles lives on the third floor when he's not on a buying trip."

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"Never underestimate the power of belief. Enough people believing something will go wrong can and has actually made such things happen. You should hear some of the debates in the mystical community over cognitive actualization..." Vincent chuckles to himself.

"Afraid I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him either." He lets the tea steep, going quiet again for a minute, before turning to her.

"Sorry if I seemed a bit... insistent, about walking you home. Despite some of my wilder periods, the old standards like holding doors, bringing a lady flowers, escorting... that sort of thing, were rather deeply instilled into me." He pauses, and smirks. "And I didn't dare pull any flowers from Corey's garden, so my services as an escort were all I had to offer at the moment."

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"You haven't been here long enough to meet him," Jenny said in her practical way. "The staff here is very quirky but excellent people. They're very tolerant of me and I appreciate it."

She put the coffee pot away and cleared up the condiment area. "Manners are never out of place. In this case, however, I may be humoring you." She smiled a bit to show she was teasing. "I'm hardly at risk on the street or anywhere else. People get a rude shock if they try anything violent. Maybe you just needed some air?"

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"Maybe.

It's not as if anyone has made me feel unwelcome since I moved in, I just... feel as if I still haven't quite found my place." His gaze jumps to the window again, peering intently over the rim of his teacup. A streetlight flickers and he could swear he saw the outline of a person.

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"You haven't been here long," she said again, "and from what I understand, we're a little different than your last team. We're not as social in a group, I suppose."

She frowned at his expression. He seemed uneasy about whatever he saw through the window. Maybe one of Miles' charity cases was looking for a place to sleep. "Something out there?"

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"I'm not sure..." He approaches the window, trying to peer through the darkness.

"Even for a blackout, this seem awfully quiet to you?" His instincts were still screaming at him, but he couldn't figure out what it was in response to.

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"It gets quiet in here. We're just outside the Quarter." She looked through a window anyway, just to make sure. "Maybe the city magic is playing with you. Corey's friend from the Defenders said the magic here is strong enough to tickle her if she's not careful."

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"It's not magic." Vincent says with grim certainty, emptying the rest of his teacup. "I'd know if it was magic. This is something... else."

He turns to Jenny. "I think we should head home."

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Nerves or magic, neither affected her like it was Vincent. "All right, it'll take a moment to put out the lamps. Just hold on."

In five minutes she had the rest of the shop closed for the night and the open sign turned over to 'Come Back for Coffee'. She grabbed her bag from under the front desk. "Let's go."

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"Thank you." He tries to stay out of the way as she takes care of closing, then holds the door for her as they exit. It takes Vincent a moment's deliberation to keep from offering his arm or hand to her. It had been a while since he'd hung out with a female just as a friendly acquaintance, not as an ex or someone he'd grown up with.

He gives a cursory glance up and down the street as they start moving. Nothing. Maybe he's just on edge because of his submission deadline.

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Jenny locked the door, then tucked her hands in her pockets and strolled off down the street. Maybe his anxiety was rubbing off but now the night did feel blacker. Thicker, too.

If it was so black, why did she think she saw a shadow detach from the corner of the shop and follow them? Why? Because she was tired and had plenty of caffeine after 6pm, that's why.

She started a conversation instead. "What did I interrupt with my phone call?"

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Vincent's head cocks, seeming just a tiny bit startled as he realizes the answer to her question.

"Oh... um... promise not to laugh?"

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"That bad, huh? How about I promise I won't laugh out loud?"

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"Not... necessarily that embarrassing, just something I don't talk about much.

I was working on a story submission to Caverns & Chimeras. It's a fantasy lit magazine.

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"Why would I think that's funny? Plenty of people come to the shop to write and talk about their ideas. If you enjoy it, why not?"

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"It's a long story..." Vincent collects his thoughts, using that to push his unease aside.

"Kristoff, my brother, insisted I have some of my education in a more typical school environment, for the social experience. It took about four weeks for him to start covering my math and science lessons... apparently teachers don't take to it well when eight year olds start correcting them. The humanities though, I was left to my own devices. Straight A's everywhere... except when it came to any creative writing assignments.

To say I was resentful of the subject was putting it mildly.

When I started college, I took writing courses for my electives just out of spite, as if to prove there wasn't anything I couldn't be perfect at; and... I ended up sort of enjoying it at some point.

Still don't know if my work is any good though."

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"You won't know unless you try, and you're trying. Nothing embarrassing about that. Plenty of people try just for the sheer pleasure of doing something they love."

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He gives a gentle noise of affirmation, even as he looks behind them again. He could swear he saw something around a corner.

"Think you'd be willing to beta-read one for me?"

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"Sure, I'd be happy to read one. Can't say I'm all that much help, but I like to think I know a good story when I read one."

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"Thanks, I'd appreciate it." Vincent nods, seemingly a bit more comfortable now, even if he keeps scanning the area around them. There's still enough light that he can make out the Champions HQ in the distance when they get down the right street.

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Jenny looked around when he did. She didn't see anything but that didn't mean there wasn't something there.

She stopped walking. "What is it?"

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"I... don't know." He frowns. "Maybe I'm just edgy... still a new city to me, after all. I hadn't been away from my desk in hours when you called.

I'll do a divination later to see if there are any presences locally that there shouldn't be. Maybe ask Nicholas as well.

We should get inside, just to be on the safe side."

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"I could take a look around first. One of Argo's fangirls might've taken a walk on the dark side to get his attention..." She looked around again. "Or not. It's late and unless there's a real danger to someone out here, it's time to rescue my cat from all the love and snacks and go to bed."

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Vincent groaned. "Let us all hope it hasn't come to that."

He manages a smile at the mention of her cat. "Another one I don't think I've met."

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