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 Posted: Sun May 05, 2013 4:22 pm
"I'll let you know what I decide," I say as I stand up. I give her one last nod as farewell and then take my coffee and leave.
As I walk back to my apartment I think to myself that at least I didn't have to give her the scroll... yet. I think back on the scroll. Maybe there was information in there that specified somebody I could trust, somebody my uncle trusted. Because I clearly have no idea what I'm doing, or who I'm dealing with. I need to find some bearing. This all ties back to the myths and the magic. Which I know a lot about, But I never would have guessed that any of it was true. Now I need to know how much. I continue down the street with my thoughts tumbling around in my skull.
I make it back to my place well enough and lock the door behind me. I kick off my shoes and shake my way out of my jacket and make my way over to my desk. I carefully set down my bag on the couch as I go by. The computer's still on from before I left and I pop in the sd card with the pictures of the scroll that I took earlier. I open up the files and start going over them a little more closely. There's got to be somebody in the list that I can trust.
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Posted: Mon Aug 26, 2013 5:32 pm
As you scroll over the names another time, looking more closely at them. Some of the names have little notes next to them. Brief statements like, “Took down a troll with a chainsaw.”and “Protected Mic's kid from explosion.”. You could come to the conclusion he might have worked along side these people or perhaps he just ran into them. You will find one name whom is located right in Seattle and actually not that far away. Nikolai Poplov – Warden. His statement reads as, “Reattached arm after close call with a Loup-garou.” The address is noted as “Poplov Used Books.” and the number given is for the store itself. (206)555-1313.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 9:20 pm
I looked at the number on the paper.
Nikolai Poplov. Warden? Reattached arm? Jesus, what kind of stuff was Uncle Silas into? Still, reattached arm. That's not the sort of thing you go to somebody you don't trust for. Looks like this might be my best option. Definitely in over my head. Need some help. Uncle Silas went to this guy for help. That's good enough for me.
I grabbed my phone and dialed the number for Poplov Used Books.
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Posted: Wed Aug 28, 2013 5:12 am
The phone would ring a few times.
"Poplov Used Books, how may I help you?" The man's voice was weathered, old, and resonated with a thick Russian accent.
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Posted: Wed Aug 28, 2013 4:49 pm
"Yeah, um, I'm Damien Hughes. I'm, uh.. I'm Silas Hughes' nephew." I said. "He left me something, and it had your name in it. He made it sound like you could be trusted. I could use someone I can trust right now."
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Posted: Wed Aug 28, 2013 8:02 pm
"Hard to forget Silas h..." The phone would crackle and muffled words mucked up the line before a thump sounded a few times like he had hit the phone. "Piece of junk..." More static for a few moments. "Sorry about that give me a momen..." Static would continue to ensue for a bit longer before it seemed to settle down.
"I apologize, I was in the middle of something when you called. Your Silas' nephew you say. Good man. It might be better if you came down to my store. A bit easier for someone such as myself to have a chat and...oh just a moment."
He seemed to be talking to a customer, but it was muffled. "Sorry about that Damien, do you need the address? I suppose Silas' had that wrote down too though."
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Posted: Fri Aug 30, 2013 4:53 pm
"No, I've got it here. I'll be over in a little while." I said and hung up.
I checked the address again and punched it into the GPS on my phone. It gave me the location to the bookstore, and a route to take to get there. So off I went.
A while later I arrived at my destination.
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Posted: Mon Sep 09, 2013 5:49 pm
When you arrive you find sandwiched between two five story apartment complexes what looks to be an old two story house of red brick with black shingles and wrought iron over the windows as well as a hip high fence and gate. A small stone path leads up to the front double doors where a sign hangs, “Poplov Used Books”.
As you would step up to the gate a short mousy haired girl steps out of the door with a handful of books tucked close to her chest, smiling she looks back inside and waves before closing the door behind her and stepping down the bath.
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Posted: Mon Sep 09, 2013 8:40 pm
Hmm...
I walked up to the fence and opened the gate, holding it open for the girl that was coming down the path. I tried to look friendly.
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 7:06 pm
As she get closer you'll notice that one of her eyes is an amber color and the other is green. She smiles at you as you hold the gate open for her and she nods, "Thank you." She tucks the books a little closer as she walks onto the sidewalk and starts heading away from the house. She looks back still smiling, "You better get in there, he is expecting you."
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Posted: Thu Sep 12, 2013 5:33 pm
Cute girl.
I enter through the gate, closing it behind me, and walk up to the front door. I pause for a moment, wondering whether I should knock, since this seems like a home. Then I decide that it has a business sign on the front, so it must definitely be a store of some kind. I open the door and enter.
"Hello? Mr. Poplov?" I call out.
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Posted: Mon Sep 16, 2013 4:20 pm
You step into the entryway , in front of you a stairwell and a hallway leading into a large living space that looks to be cluttered with books, off to your left is a walkway leading into a kitchen and to the right looks to be study. From what you can see the walls are line with bookshelves.
“Over here.” His basso voice rumbled out from the study.
When you would enter the study he'd be sitting in an old leather chair, hunched over a piece of paper with a magnifying glass, and an old wooden cane resting against the Victorian style desk. He wore glasses, a white long sleeved shirt, a gray tie and suspenders, with a navy blue sweater atop and unbuttoned. He looked like he was in his early 50s, but his hair was completely gray and smoothed back, he also had a full on beard that was gray as well.
“Feel free to have a seat and tell me how I may help you mister Hughes.” In front of the desk were a pair of leather backed wooden chairs.
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 7:50 pm
I considered for a moment how much I should tell this man. I didn't know him any better than I did Ms. Sydonnis. But Uncle Silas had trusted this man. And he just gave off an air that he was a reliable man.
"I'm sure that you're aware that my uncle passed away several years ago." I began. "Apparently he made arrangements prior to his death for certain information to make its way to me at a certain point in time. That time was today. Also today I was mysteriously contacted by a woman named Summer Sydonnis who somehow knows that I have the information and wants to buy it off of me. I don't trust her. Part of the information was a list of contacts. You were one of them. Uncle Silas made a note near your name saying that you helped him out when he was in a bind. So I figure if my uncle trusted you, then I can trust you. What do you think?"
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Posted: Wed Sep 18, 2013 5:19 pm
"Well..." He set the magnifying glass down and leaned back in his chair exhaling slowly as he did. "You find yourself in quite the predicament young man. It was smart of you not to trust a faerie, Seelie or not, though they honor their word and can't lie, it does not stop them from trickery and hiding the truth. That is their nature though I suppose." He reached and grabbed his cane as he stood and slowly started toward you. "Do you like coffee?" It would be clear then that he was making his way toward the kitchen.
"Clearly Silas wanted you to carry on his work..." He paused for a moment. "Do you know much about it?"
You would notice that he doesn't meet your eyes as he moves past you and into the next room to a kitchen that looked to belong in a museum. The fridge was an old ice box, the stove was wood burning and on top of it was an old iron kettle.
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Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 7:55 pm
I took notice of the old timey appliances, if they could really be called such, and frowned in confusion for a moment. Some people were just weird. Nothing really special about that.
"Not much really, no. It sounds like all of the legends and myths and stories that he used to tell me are all true, or at least he thought they were..." I trailed off, hoping for some sort of explanation that would make sense, that would rationalize everything that had happened.
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