Isabelle "Izzy" Shaw (izzy_shaw) wrote in city_limits, @ 2009-05-03 14:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | isabelle shaw, oliver jerzyck |
Shop Talk
Note: takes place before Hayden's voicemail to Izzy.
It had been some time since Izzy had patronized the obscure, back alley magic shop that she'd visited when she first arrived in Chicago. When she'd been involved with Logan she'd made a point of getting whatever she needed through Thoth's Library, but since they'd split up and she'd moved her workshop out of there she'd been avoiding the establishment.
Besides, this place had a more exclusive feel. Not that there was anything at all wrong with Thoth's Library, but it was purposely open to all comers whether they were experienced 'professional' magic users, interested laypeople or emo kids in the thrall of 'Twilight' and 'Harry Potter'. This establishment most definitely was not.
The tech-witch moved down the aisle, periodically picking up components and placing them in her basket. She'd gone ahead and put money down for a lease on the abandoned auto shop, and the protection spells and wards she intended to put on the property were significant with it being so close to the Zone.
Oliver was crouched down in front of a glassed-in showcase looking at a set of geodes, the dark fabric of his jacket stretched tight across his hunched shoulders. There was a cigarette in his mouth, smoke rising from the burning end of it as he priced the objects, a small stack of books next to his left foot. It was hard to come by the titles he'd found in Chicago, so far the only luck he'd had was over the internet. His Spanish wasn't what it could be, but he was willing to muddle until he remembered the basics.
He gathered his intended purchases up, rang the little bell on the counter to get the clerk's attention. His wallet was going to be lighter by the time he walked out of here, but he didn't mind that. He could use the geodes as grounders for his next ward, maybe even give one of them to Jessica. Besides, it was nice to shop in a place with fewer teenagers running in and out. If he'd wanted to go to the mall, he would have.
Izzy placed a small tome in her basket and started toward the counter, satisfied that she'd gotten everything she needed and a bit more. It would be good to have her own space to work, not dependent on anyone else's generosity or having to suddenly move if a relationship changed. Not that she would have expected Logan to toss her stuff out on the curb in front of Thoth's Library, but it just would have been too uncomfortable to keep her shop there.
The blonde reached the counter and noticed the man in front of her. He seemed awfully familiar, but it took Izzy a moment to recall where she knew him from and the tech-witch kicked herself mentally once she did: she'd always intended to keep in touch with Oliver but time seemed to have gotten away from her.
"Oliver?" She smiled brightly at the other spellcaster. "Run into any elementals lately?"
He was in the middle of having his items bagged up, and his gaze was distracted as he turned towards the voice, but it only took a second for his expression to clear. "Isabelle. Hello again. No elementals recently. I was away for a while, out of town." The corners of his mouth lifted very slightly as he hefted his bag of goods.
Oliver looked at the basket she was carrying, the objects inside. "You seem to be considering quite a lot of activity. Protection spells?" He stepped aside so the blonde could get to the counter, his bag coming to rest against his thigh.
Izzy deposited the basket on the counter and turned to Oliver while the clerk tallied the items up and bagged them. "Yeah, I've just leased a new place for my workshop. It's pretty close to the Zone so I got it for a steal, but since it's so close I want to make sure it's secure from anything that might want to get in that I might not want there." She shrugged a bit self consciously, feeling like she was tooting her own horn too much. "Not that there's much I can do if a godling or higher being wants to come say hello, but I'm hoping not to attract that sort of attention."
"What about you? Just a general restock?"
"Something like that. I was away for long enough that I need a re-supply of a lot of things. Some things lose their potency after a while, so they need replacing." He watched the narrow strip of paper emerge from the cash register, curling into a spiral as the salesperson continued to tap numbers out for the total.
"What kind of workshop? General business purposes or something specific?"
"The building is an old auto shop, which will work well for me if I want to work on something big." The salesperson finished totaling up the bill and Izzy managed not to wince at the total. She needed these items and, while it was going to cost her it would be worth it to have the protection on the shop in place.
"I guess you could say a bit of both. I want to start marketing some of my tech-magic devices to people, and I just wanted a place where I can tinker without having to worry about staying in anyone's good graces."
"Issues?" Oliver's eyebrows went up questioningly, and his fingers dragged through his hair before he took the cigarette out of his mouth to put it out in a standing ashtray nearby. As he started towards the door, he added, "Is there trouble among the white hats these days?"
Outside, he looked up at the sky, then glanced at his watch. The weatherman had spoken of rain, and it did look like the clouds were amassing for just that purpose. He could probably manage a late lunch before returning to the suite, though. Turning back to face the exit of the store, "There's a sandwich place just around the corner from here. I'm at loose ends until tonight, got time for a bite to eat?"
"Sure, I don't have anyplace I've got to be right now." She was still trying to research Rhiannon's mysterious loss of Slayer powers, but so far had come up with nothing and her memories of that lecture were maddeningly fuzzy. Since it wasn't an immediate life or death issue and a number of other 'white hats' were investigating as well, Izzy wasn't too concerned.
Someone would figure it out, or Rhiannon would find the creep and beat him to within an inch of his life to get her abilities back. You could take away the woman's powers, but you couldn't take away her skills.
The tech-witch exited the store and fell into step beside Oliver. "As for the wanting my own space, well, my last workshop was in the back room of my recently ex-boyfriend's store and I felt uncomfortable taking up the space."
That made him think of Hannah, and he made a mental note to send her some flowers soon. Something simple, just to let her know he was thinking of her. He didn't know where they were right now, if there even was a 'they', but he didn't want to lose touch with her again."The end of a relationship can be difficult," he said with a nod. "Especially if you're involved on other levels."
He dug out in his pockets and extracted his lighter, got a fresh smoke going as the two of them started off down the sidewalk"What kind of gadgets do you make, then?" he asked Izzy curiously. "The mixture of magic and science has been around since the alchemists first started trying to turn lead into gold, but I doubt that's what you're describing. Is it simple machines or something more out of a science fiction novel?"
"It really depends on what it is I'm trying to make," Izzy shifted her bag to hike her purse strap higher on her shoulder. "If it's something simple it might just be a machine that's powered by magic, the more complex the concept the more it might look like something out of a science fiction novel. After all, the Corollary to Clarke's Third Law is that any sufficiently advanced magic is indistinguishable from technology. If you understand the limits and capabilities of both disciplines there's a lot you can do, measuring magic energy fluctuations like you would geologic activity for example."
"Yes, but magic is in the blood," Oliver said. "Science is the application of reason to matters of faith, almost, the belief that we can reach beyond the limitations of the physical world. While the two can be combined to form a third paradigm, they're not interchangeable." He realized it was too warm even for the light jacket he had on, so he took it off and draped it over one arm as he walked. "Without the existing building blocks of magic in our veins, science is just theory, logic constructed out of air."
"I think I would agree with that up to a point," Izzy conceded. "You do need the talent in the blood to really be a competent practitioner of magic, but advanced technology can be every bit as effective as magic, the trick is recognizing it. If you were a tenth century peasant farmer, the kit of the modern farmer would seem the stuff of magic. It all depends on the point of view of the person seeing the technology in action."
"Oh, well, of course," the spellcaster agreed, putting the cigarette between his lips and talking around it as they crossed the street. "But in that regard, isn't science just an offshoot of magic all on its own? Without the hope, the belief that we can do more, we'd never have been able to put a man on the moon. To a caveman, the wheel was an astounding invention, but without some hopeful SOB who wanted to get from one place to another a little faster, the lot of them would have stayed in their hidey-holes." He was aware he sounded pedantic, but he seldom discussed the actual roots of his dedication to magic with anyone, if only because no one had ever asked.
"Makes perfect sense to me," Izzy agreed, not bothered in the least. She was enjoying herself, it had been a long time since she'd been able to 'talk shop', even if it was just theory, with another practitioner. "That can be applied to magic too, the same motivation to improve things is found there. Take Slayers for example: some bright shaman came up with the idea to combat demons by fusing a bit of demonic essence into a girl and making it pass from one to the next. That saved countless lives and helped humanity get enough breathing space to grow and thrive. Fast forward a few thousand years and someone else gets the bright idea that if one Slayer is good, a whole boatload of them is even better."
"Yes, but then you run into the the sticky business of human nature," Oliver said with a pragmatic lift of his shoulders. "Being a 'proper' Slayer comes from altruism, the desire to help others. What if that altruism doesn't exist? Haven't you just created a monster, or at best someone who's going to use those powers for their own gain? The only thing worse than irresponsible magic use is irresponsible magic use spread for thousands of miles. At the risk of sounding snobbish, its better to leave it in the hands of someone who actually knows what they're doing instead of dispensing the knowledge to the masses, no matter how well-intentioned they might be."
"You'll always have a few bad apples," Izzy responded as they approached the sandwich shop. "But you make it sound like you'd have been on the side of the monks who were worried about the dangers of the printing press. Whatever magic is done can be undone..."
The tech-witch's voice trailed off as the comment tugged at a memory: Slayers had always been brought into the legal system in her dimension, either the police or military. Those who were rouge that were convicted of crimes usually had their powers revoked. It wasn't a spell she was familiar with, being strictly kept within the law enforcement community, but it did exist in her dimension. If she could do some research on the origins of the spell that activated Slayers in the first place, maybe she'd be able to figure out a way to help Rhiannon.
She made a mental note to follow up on that as soon as she got home, then shook her head and returned her attention to her companion as they entered the shop. "Sorry about that, had an idea on a way to help a friend."
Oliver held the door open for the blonde, saying, "Perfectly fine. I have a tendency to drift away myself when I'm distracted." He tucked his hands into h pockets while they waited to be seated, and when the hostess led them to a table he snagged an ashtray on the way across the room. Menus were provided, and the mage's long legs got tucked under the table as he studied the selections.
"What exactly are you planning to market?" he asked Izzy once he'd made up his mind. "Wouldn't you need patents if that's your intention?"
"Of course." Izzy studied the menu as well, trying to decide what she felt like eating. "At the same time I'm fairly confident no one else will be able to easily duplicate my work anytime soon. I can submit patent applications and go ahead and try to start selling a select few items to law enforcement and other public services in the area. Mostly though I'll work on spells for home and business security at first, don't need patents for that sort of thing."
"I'd be in trouble if it was against the law."
Oliver's eyebrows went up and down briefly, and when the waitress arrived at their table he ordered the steak sandwich and a side of thick-cut fries, along with a soda. They didn't serve alcohol at this early hour, but he tried to at least limit his drinking until dusk. "I might like to see some of the things you come up with, if only for the sake of curiosity," he told Izzy, settling back against the padding in the chair. "I don't necessarily agree on the fundamentals of what you're doing, but I am interested. Would you mind?"
"Not at all," Izzy responded easily after ordering a chicken salad and a sweet tea. "I don't have anything on me at the moment but I'd be happy to show you some of my projects once my workshop is set up again." She'd be willing to bet money that Oliver had never seen anything like what she could do.
The tech-witch handed her menu to the waitress and focused her attention on the other spellcaster. "So what took you away from Chicago? Avoiding the cold and snow?"
"A little more than that. It was a family emergency." Oliver looked down at the silverware set up on either side of his place setting, then regarded his companion again. "My father's mother became ill and summoned me to Maine. I remained with her until the end."
He frowned a little, feeling the depression trying to crowd in on him, and he pushed it aside. "Hard to believe she's not there anymore," he said, putting the cigarette into the ashtray so that it smoldered there. "Some people really seem like they'll live forever."
"I'm sorry to hear that Oliver." Izzy smiled in sympathy, even if her own family relationships hadn't as warm as the one he'd obviously had with his grandmother. "I helped care for my mother when her time came a couple years ago and you never really expect them to pass, they're supposed to be immortal. It's an odd feeling."
She'd replaced her blood family with one of her own making, Michaela and her kids along with Juliet.
"How old was she?"
"She turned ninety-four on her last birthday. I didn't get to see her as much as I would have liked in the last few years, but I made time whenever I could. Its like there's a hole where there used to be a warm spot." He tapped his chest, the place above his breastbone. "I'll always be grateful for her kindnesses."
The waitress came back with their drinks, and he took the glass between his palms, savoring the cold against the heat of the day outside. "I suppose I'm rather at a loss as to what to do next," he admitted. "But I'm sure something will come to me in time."
Izzy took a sip of her tea and decided it was tolerable. Not as good as what she could get back home or make herself of course, but it would do.
"What would you do if you could do anything? I'm sure your grandmother would want you to be happy." Izzy noted that he didn't speak of his parents at all. She could understand that.
"I had had some idea about starting up a business since deciding to remain in the city," the mage said. "But I'm not sure if that window hasn't closed. Just looking at the paper over the last couple of days, it seems like there's new places opening all the time. I wouldn't want to be a copycat of someone else's idea, it'd have to be original."
The bubbles in the soda made his nose wrinkle, and he put the beverage aside after a drink of the fizzy contents. "Are you find the city to your liking now that the weather is threatening to become unbearably hot? I forget if you said you hailed from Chicago or not."
"You call this hot?" Izzy's southern drawl thickened slightly as if to emphasize the fact that she was originally hailed from areas far from Chicagoland. "It's just now getting pleasant."
"I'm from the Atlanta area originally, then down by the research triangle before moving up here. You're not from around here either, not with that accent."
"I lived around D.C. when I was a kid," Oliver explained. "On the outskirts, not in the city. My mother worked in the capital, we lived in a townhouse just outside of the city limits." He put his cigarette into his mouth for a puff, tapped ashes off of the end. "Just as well we didn't have a place there. With her having political ambitions, it was like being on display as it was."
Ah. Someone else who'd had issues with their mother, just with more money.
Izzy nodded in understanding as their food arrived. "My mother wasn't ambitious for herself, not really. But she worked hard to keep my brother and I fed, and pushed me to develop my talent. There wasn't a lot of touchy-feely with her, she just didn't have time. I moved up to Raliegh after graduating from Georgia Tech."
She dug into her salad and made a small sound of appreciation at the taste, they made a mean chicken salad at this shop.
Oliver lifted the bread, inspected the contents of his sandwich, then picked it up and took a bite. "Must be all that Yankee restraint," he said a little dryly. "She had her own ideas about child-rearing, I guess. Most of them included leaving me in the care of the help. But I suppose I didn't fare too badly. I was a quiet child who enjoyed books and reading, it usually kept me out of trouble."
The sandwich was promising to be hearty, and he put the cigarette out half-smoked before taking another bite. "What do you do when you're not...creating? Inventing?"
"You mean in addition to my day job?" Izzy smirked and took another bite of her salad. "Nothing special, go out to clubs with friends, read, in the summer I like to go to the beach obviously. But most of my free time is spent tinkering. If things work out with the new workshop and I can make a living with my magic then the day job can go away." After the breakup with Logan she hadn't been involved with anyone else and was in no rush as far as that was concerned.
"What about you? Any exotic habits that'll turn a girl's head?"
"Well, I don't know how 'exotic' it is, but I have been known to pick up a paintbrush now and then. Portraits, mostly, and just as a dabbler, but I've been told they're good." Oliver offered a not-quite-modest smile over his lunch, picked up a couple of fries. "My father was a bit of a 'name' in the art world when I was small, I suppose he passed it on."
He couldn't recall the last time he'd had a protracted conversation with someone this way, but Izzy seemed genuinely interested. "I might do some more of that now that I'm back in the city full-time. Busy hands are happy hands, and all that."
"Ooh, an artist as well as a mage and a scholar. If you're a poet too I'm going to accuse you of being a Renaissance man." Izzy smiled to take any sting out of the words. She wasn't trying to belittle him, it was just something she found amusing as well as impressive in these days.
Of course, given the clothing and what she'd picked up during the conversation she didn't think he was exactly hurting for money. When you grew up filthy rich you could afford to dabble in the 'useless' arts instead of studying something practical that would put food on the table.
"If I'm going to show you some of my works of art, then you'll have to show me some of yours. Maybe one day I can say I knew you when you weren't a famous artist."
"If I'm lucky they'll be worth something before I'm dead," Oliver said with a smirk. "That's the thing about art, the value only amounts to much of anything after the person who created it is long gone." His shoulders went up and down, and he added, "And my parents fancied themselves to be intellectuals, so it was only the best schools and the best tutors for me. As an only child, my main concern was learning to tie a school tie."
He both was and wasn't bragging, his natural snobbery at odds with the fact that he seldom talked about money. "We were all a bunch of terrible snobs, really."
Izzy laughed out loud at that comment, drawing a few looks from nearby patrons. She ignored them and let the laugh subside into a few quiet chuckles. "Who isn't a snob, from a certain point of view? When I was five I was more or less a mascot of my brother's gang, not a group of kids but a real gang you know? Anyway, some of the gang members were the biggest snobs I ever knew. You didn't have the right shoes or the right jacket, or someone didn't have their hair done a certain way, bless your heart you'd be mocked like crazy."
She still missed her brother, even if she didn't think about Bobby all that much anymore. It had been a long time ago and a different world, literally and figuratively speaking.
Izzy was still too chicken to try and find out what happened to her family in this dimension.
"The hazings of childhood can be a nightmare," Oliver agreed seriously, but there was a glint in his dark eyes that said he also saw the humor in it. "People always find something to criticize, especially the young. I suppose that's part of the reason I'm still unmarried. That and I'd undoubtedly be a terrible father."
He had half finished his sandwich and he picked some of the steak out from between the bread to eat it thoughtfully. "Will you continue to patronize Thoth's Library once you're back in business?" he asked the blonde. "Seems a shame to stop just because of a falling out with Mr. Guevera."
"After while, once we've all had a chance to heal I guess." Izzy finished off her salad and took a deep sip of her tea before continuing. "It'd just be awkward right now, and if I can get what I need elsewhere then that's what I'll do. I'll always care for him, but there just wasn't love there on my end." She wasn't sure why she was telling Oliver this, it wasn't really any of his business.
"Thoth's Library is a great shop though, I'm proud of Logan for pulling it off."
Love. He was thinking of Hannah again, the stomach-wrenching giddiness he'd felt when he'd discovered she was alive, the urge to bury his face in the crook of her neck and just sit there for an hour or so. Could they have that again, provided he played his cards right? Dear fucking God, he hoped so.
"Love's a complicated puzzle," he told Izzy, eating some more of his fries. "If we can at least get friendship out of some of the pieces, that's a good start. At least neither of you is holding a grudge."
"I hope he's not, I've been avoiding him since we broke up to be honest." She glanced down at the table and then back up at Oliver. She shouldn't have been doing that to Logan, but it would have just been awkward and she'd been afraid of his reaction.
The waitress had already laid their bills on the table, Izzy picked hers up and gathered her bags. "It's been lovely talking to you again Oliver, I've enjoyed most of it, but I need to be going. Once I've got my workshop set up again I'll give you a call and let you have a tour."
She left enough cash to cover the bill plus a tip, and stood up to leave.
"Yes, of course. It was good to see you again." He was halfway out of his chair to bid her farewell, a habit ingrained by practice rather than natural inclination. "I look forward to seeing what that fertile mind of yours comes up with."
Once she had departed, he re-seated himself and picked at the rest of his fries. A watch check said that it was seven til six. After a bit of pondering, he summoned a waitress and asked for a scotch. At least he wouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach.