Posted using PostyBirb",
"writing": "\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[b]Red Deer, AB, March 2nd[/b]\n\n\n\n“Well?” Thomas asked Gilbert as he exited the far too respectable-looking garage for someone like Grant being able to afford it. He was already working out where the next store was, a fabric store on the way to another garage.\n\n“He was here,” the armadillo said, and Thomas looked at him so fast he worried he’d gotten whiplash. “Yesterday. He picker up a rotor assembly for a twenty-forty-seven Intrepid.”\n\nThomas looked over the shop again, the golden lettering of the name, the price of the parts being advertised. “Gilbert, it’s got to be some other kangaroo. Grant doesn’t have the kind of money they’re asking for.”\n\nThe armadillo smiled as he started walking. “Oh, it didn’t cost him all that much. The rotor for the forty-seven came with an anti-thief system on it out of the manufacturer. This guy couldn’t use it on anything, so he was more than happy for your friend to take it off his hands.”\n\n“Stolen parts?” Thomas asked after thinking it over.\n\nGilbert nodded. “Never let how a place looks fool you into thinking that means they’re honest or not.” He motioned ahead of them. “That’s the direction the guy said he watched the kangaroo head in.”\n\n“So that’s why you wanted to check-out this place? You knew they sold stolen parts?”\n\n“I didn’t know.”\n\n“Then why?”\n\nThe armadillo glanced at him before answering. “Unlike you, I don’t know him. I haven’t built preconception as to the kind of guy is he.” Thomas snorted. “Okay, as to the kind of places he’d shop at. You told us he’s on the move and doesn’t have a lot of money. But as far as I’m concerned, that’s just what he wanted you to see. He does magic, and he did a lot of work on his truck. Those are the two things I know. Neither of them tells me he’d stay away from a place just because of the prices.”\n\n“I’m not going to argue they aren’t preconceptions, since…” Thomas motioned to the garage behind them. “But does us walking in this direction lead us to him? I take it you know what an Intrepid look like?”\n\n“The Intrepid is a car, and I get the feeling he’ll go for another truck. I’m more hoping we’re going to see a kangaroo standing next to a truck waiting for us to find him.”\n\n“Sure, Grant, standing in one place when he’s got people already hunting him.”\n\n“You have a better idea?” Gilbert asked, smirking.\n\nThomas didn’t, so he walked in silence.\n\n* * * * *\n\n[b]Red Deer, AB, March 2nd[/b]\n\n\n\n“I need to warm up,” Gilbert muttered, then headed for a charging station so old it might have been converted from a gas station. There was concrete level with the pavement where fueling islands could have stood. At the back, most of the parking was occupied by cargo trucks. He looked for a pickup that might be Grant’s, one with added work that would come across as it being badly held together, but nothing there looked older than a few years.\n\nInside was a convenience store on one side, with a restaurant on the other, and the armadillo headed there.\n\nThe restaurant had the same sense of antiquity as the outside, with booths out of the aughts with their faded fabric and tables made of solid, dented and scarred wood. They grabbed coffees from the dispenser and sat in at a table.\n\nGilbert updated the others, who then agreed to join them so they could go over a new plan of attack. Thomas relaxed now that he knew he didn’t have to step outside again.\n\n* * * * *\n\n[b]Red Deer, AB, March 2nd[/b]\n\n\n\nThomas looked up again when the door opened with the electronic replication of classic bells, to see if this time it was finally their friends. It had already been half an hour, and he was getting hung—\n\n“Fuck.” Thomas hunched down as the vole, Shila called Magnet, stood in the entryway, with the raccoon who had been identified as Lullaby. Worse than that, the vole was looking directly at him.\n\nThomas quickly went over his options as the man motioned toward the drink station.\n\nRun, was lit in bright red, flashing and underlined with exclamation marks. With his power, it was simple. All he had to do was reach over, grab Gilbert’s hand, and look out the window. He’d be tired, maybe? Why hadn’t he practiced taking someone with him for a line-of-sight teleport. If he was near death because of it, then—\n\nFuck, his indecision had let the vole head toward them. Gilbert was still reading on his phone, unaware. Okay, fuck line of sight. He could take Gilbert to Montana, he’d make sure Thomas didn’t die, then call the other to—\n\n“Mister Hertz,” the man said. “If I may ask that you not vanish on me this time. We are only here to talk. May we sit with you and Mister Rowling?” His voice was deep and now that Thomas wasn’t listening to it through gale force winds, he could make out a slight English accent. \n\nNot looking up from his phone, Gilbert frowned. The fact he didn’t jump in surprise made Thomas think the armadillo was more aware of what was happening around them than he’d given him credit for.\n\n“I promise,” the vole said when neither responded. “I and my associate are only here to discuss the unfortunate situation you have found yourself in, and are pulling your friends in along with you.” He was dressed in an expensive black overcoat that made his gray fur seem pale. It supported Grant’s comment about everyone with magic being rich.\n\nThomas wished Gilbert said something, because he had no idea what to do with this approach. He’d expected them to pull out their staves the moment they saw him and—where were the staves?\n\nHe leaned to the side so he could see the raccoon approach with two steaming mugs. Thomas didn’t know what her staff looked like, but even if it was under her overcoat, it would make a bump, right?\n\n“As you can see,” the vole said when Thomas looked at him again, “we are unarmed. All I am interested in is a friendly discussion.”\n\n“Ah guess,” Gilbert drawled, finally joining the conversation, “tha if y’all want to talk. We better have a drink ta go with it.” He caught the attention of a server. “Honey! Bring the bottle oh the best whiskey ya got!”\n\nThomas tried not to stare. Where was Gilbert pulling that accent from? He and Laurence barely gained one when they were drunk out of their minds or pissed.\n\n“That’s quite alright,” the vole said, smiling. “My companion is bringing tea.”\n\nGilbert made a face. “Friends don’t drink water with friends,” he said with a hint of disbelief.\n\n“Are they giving you trouble?” the raccoon asked as she handed him one of the mugs. Her accent made Thomas think she was from the east coast.\n\n“Excuse me,” The server said as she squeezed next to the raccoon to place a bottle on the table along with four shot glasses. Gilbert only had the time to hand her a bill, along with a ‘much obliged’, before she hurried away.\n\n“No,” the vole said, sounding annoyed, then looked displeased at the mug as he took it. “It simply seems that Mister Rowling is hoping to get us drunk.”\n\n“If all ya can stomach is one,” the armadillo sneer as he looked at a shot glass, “then ya can have just one.” He filled the shot glass with the dark amber liquid before sliding it to the vole. The next on when to the woman and the third to Thomas. Gilbert drained the water out of his glass before filling it to the threequarter mark with the whiskey.\n\nHe took a sip. “What d’ya wanna talk about?”\n\nThe raccoon sipped her glass without reaction, while the vole eyed it distastefully before sipping and placing it down again. Not wanting to be the odd man out, Thomas sipped his and the wheeze that escaped his lips as his throat burned was the best he could manage in his attempt not to choke on it.\n\nHow the fuck was Gilbert drinking this like he was nothing more than beer?\n\n“Mister Hertz. You have inadvertently found yourself in the middle of a situation you do not belong in. I do not know what Mister Summer has told you, but I can promise you that none of it will be accurate.”\n\n“You attacked him for no reason,” Thomas said before stopping himself. The alcohol couldn’t be affecting him already, right?\n\n“Did he tell you that?” the man asked, while the raccoon smirked. As refined as Magnet seemed, there was something sleazy about Lullaby, even in the expensive clothing. “Have you considered that Mister Summer has given us reasons to want to bring him to justice?”\n\n“So da kangaroo’s a criminal?” Gilbert asked, sounding too interested, too pleased for Thomas’s comfort. Grant wasn’t a criminal. He had a second independent source telling him the Chamber was bad news, so—\n\nThey didn’t know he’d spoken with Shila. They might not even know she existed. They thought all he had to go by was what Grant had told him and what Thomas had seen. They would think they could twist any of that to their advantage, and if he let them, could he turn the situation to get himself and Gilbert out of this? They were unarmed, after all.\n\nOr were they? His friends could do more than use their powers. Grant could make talismans. Could the Chamber? He couldn’t remember Grant saying anything about that, but they used staves like he did.\n\n“I hate this,” he grumbled. Any way he looked at it, his troubles only increased. He sipped his glass and choked on whiskey.\n\n“Yes,” Magnet said, amused, “Mister Summer has put you in a rather bad position. But I want to reassure you. You hold no interest to us; you are merely a bystander. If you tell us where Grant is, we will take him, and leave you and your friends be.”\n\nWas that a threat? Thomas looked into the glass for answers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gilbert watching him. He couldn’t read the expression. He couldn’t believe them, could he? He’d heard what Shila had to say about them. And while these two were here, the other two had to be out there, looking for Grant or his friends.\n\nWait, how had Magnet and Lullaby known to come here, into this restaurant? There had been no surprise when the vole had locked eyes with Thomas. Not even some at finding Gilbert with him. He’d even know Gilbert’s name.\n\nThen there was the teleportation.\n\nEveryone who’d found out about it told him the same thing. He was doing the impossible, and these two, who had seen him teleport away with Grant, claimed they weren’t interested?\n\nHe sighed and hoped Gilbert wouldn’t contradict him. “I don’t know where he is. We split up not long after I took him from you.”\n\n“Mister Hertz,” the vole said, tone turning severe, “I find it difficult to believe you, considering you are currently in Red Deer.”\n\n“I’m on the run,” he replied, trying to sound exasperated. “First from this guy.” He hiked a thumb toward Gilbert. “Then with him from the guy who sent them after me. We figured no one sane would chase us into these frozen wastelands.” Oh fuck. He was going to have to go outside again.\n\n“Kid,” the raccoon said, her accent thicker. “Don’t play this game, okay? The roo’s not worth it. He’d drop you the moment things got hard. He did drop you. Just tell us where he is and we’re gone. You never have to hear from us again.”\n\n“I don’t know where he is,” Thomas replied, the mounting frustration real.\n\n“I am asking you,” the vole said, “politely, to reconsider your answer, Mister Hertz. While I am not in a position to do you any lasting damage, it is well within my power to inflict pan the likes you cannot imagine. To you, and Mister Rowling,” he added.\n\n“Why can’t you kill him?” Gilbert asked, frowning and his accent gone.\n\n“Part of an agreement with a third party,” the vole answered with a dismissive wave of the hand.\n\n“Like we’re going to do that guy’s bidding.” The raccoon snorted, only to be glared at by the vole. “What? Don’t tell me you give a damn what his plans are for the kid. He’s the only teleporter in existence.”\n\n“I think you tipped your hand,” Gilbert said. “Thomas, get ready to run.” He took a quick drink, then raised his other hand, palm up, to his lips.\n\nWith a curse, Thomas grabs his overcoat as the vole opened his mouth.\n\nThe flame appeared over the armadillo’s palm as he blew his mouthful of whiskey at it. It exploded into a fireball, forcing the vole and raccoon away. Gilbert was at his side, also putting on his overcoat, as they rushed for the door.",
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Red Deer, AB, March 2nd
“Well?” Thomas asked Gilbert as he exited the far too respectable-looking garage for someone like Grant being able to afford it. He was already working out where the next store was, a fabric store on the way to another garage.
“He was here,” the armadillo said, and Thomas looked at him so fast he worried he’d gotten whiplash. “Yesterday. He picker up a rotor assembly for a twenty-forty-seven Intrepid.”
Thomas looked over the shop again, the golden lettering of the name, the price of the parts being advertised. “Gilbert, it’s got to be some other kangaroo. Grant doesn’t have the kind of money they’re asking for.”
The armadillo smiled as he started walking. “Oh, it didn’t cost him all that much. The rotor for the forty-seven came with an anti-thief system on it out of the manufacturer. This guy couldn’t use it on anything, so he was more than happy for your friend to take it off his hands.”
“Stolen parts?” Thomas asked after thinking it over.
Gilbert nodded. “Never let how a place looks fool you into thinking that means they’re honest or not.” He motioned ahead of them. “That’s the direction the guy said he watched the kangaroo head in.”
“So that’s why you wanted to check-out this place? You knew they sold stolen parts?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Then why?”
The armadillo glanced at him before answering. “Unlike you, I don’t know him. I haven’t built preconception as to the kind of guy is he.” Thomas snorted. “Okay, as to the kind of places he’d shop at. You told us he’s on the move and doesn’t have a lot of money. But as far as I’m concerned, that’s just what he wanted you to see. He does magic, and he did a lot of work on his truck. Those are the two things I know. Neither of them tells me he’d stay away from a place just because of the prices.”
“I’m not going to argue they aren’t preconceptions, since…” Thomas motioned to the garage behind them. “But does us walking in this direction lead us to him? I take it you know what an Intrepid look like?”
“The Intrepid is a car, and I get the feeling he’ll go for another truck. I’m more hoping we’re going to see a kangaroo standing next to a truck waiting for us to find him.”
“Sure, Grant, standing in one place when he’s got people already hunting him.”
“You have a better idea?” Gilbert asked, smirking.
Thomas didn’t, so he walked in silence.
* * * * *
Red Deer, AB, March 2nd
“I need to warm up,” Gilbert muttered, then headed for a charging station so old it might have been converted from a gas station. There was concrete level with the pavement where fueling islands could have stood. At the back, most of the parking was occupied by cargo trucks. He looked for a pickup that might be Grant’s, one with added work that would come across as it being badly held together, but nothing there looked older than a few years.
Inside was a convenience store on one side, with a restaurant on the other, and the armadillo headed there.
The restaurant had the same sense of antiquity as the outside, with booths out of the aughts with their faded fabric and tables made of solid, dented and scarred wood. They grabbed coffees from the dispenser and sat in at a table.
Gilbert updated the others, who then agreed to join them so they could go over a new plan of attack. Thomas relaxed now that he knew he didn’t have to step outside again.
* * * * *
Red Deer, AB, March 2nd
Thomas looked up again when the door opened with the electronic replication of classic bells, to see if this time it was finally their friends. It had already been half an hour, and he was getting hung—
“Fuck.” Thomas hunched down as the vole, Shila called Magnet, stood in the entryway, with the raccoon who had been identified as Lullaby. Worse than that, the vole was looking directly at him.
Thomas quickly went over his options as the man motioned toward the drink station.
Run, was lit in bright red, flashing and underlined with exclamation marks. With his power, it was simple. All he had to do was reach over, grab Gilbert’s hand, and look out the window. He’d be tired, maybe? Why hadn’t he practiced taking someone with him for a line-of-sight teleport. If he was near death because of it, then—
Fuck, his indecision had let the vole head toward them. Gilbert was still reading on his phone, unaware. Okay, fuck line of sight. He could take Gilbert to Montana, he’d make sure Thomas didn’t die, then call the other to—
“Mister Hertz,” the man said. “If I may ask that you not vanish on me this time. We are only here to talk. May we sit with you and Mister Rowling?” His voice was deep and now that Thomas wasn’t listening to it through gale force winds, he could make out a slight English accent.
Not looking up from his phone, Gilbert frowned. The fact he didn’t jump in surprise made Thomas think the armadillo was more aware of what was happening around them than he’d given him credit for.
“I promise,” the vole said when neither responded. “I and my associate are only here to discuss the unfortunate situation you have found yourself in, and are pulling your friends in along with you.” He was dressed in an expensive black overcoat that made his gray fur seem pale. It supported Grant’s comment about everyone with magic being rich.
Thomas wished Gilbert said something, because he had no idea what to do with this approach. He’d expected them to pull out their staves the moment they saw him and—where were the staves?
He leaned to the side so he could see the raccoon approach with two steaming mugs. Thomas didn’t know what her staff looked like, but even if it was under her overcoat, it would make a bump, right?
“As you can see,” the vole said when Thomas looked at him again, “we are unarmed. All I am interested in is a friendly discussion.”
“Ah guess,” Gilbert drawled, finally joining the conversation, “tha if y’all want to talk. We better have a drink ta go with it.” He caught the attention of a server. “Honey! Bring the bottle oh the best whiskey ya got!”
Thomas tried not to stare. Where was Gilbert pulling that accent from? He and Laurence barely gained one when they were drunk out of their minds or pissed.
“That’s quite alright,” the vole said, smiling. “My companion is bringing tea.”
Gilbert made a face. “Friends don’t drink water with friends,” he said with a hint of disbelief.
“Are they giving you trouble?” the raccoon asked as she handed him one of the mugs. Her accent made Thomas think she was from the east coast.
“Excuse me,” The server said as she squeezed next to the raccoon to place a bottle on the table along with four shot glasses. Gilbert only had the time to hand her a bill, along with a ‘much obliged’, before she hurried away.
“No,” the vole said, sounding annoyed, then looked displeased at the mug as he took it. “It simply seems that Mister Rowling is hoping to get us drunk.”
“If all ya can stomach is one,” the armadillo sneer as he looked at a shot glass, “then ya can have just one.” He filled the shot glass with the dark amber liquid before sliding it to the vole. The next on when to the woman and the third to Thomas. Gilbert drained the water out of his glass before filling it to the threequarter mark with the whiskey.
He took a sip. “What d’ya wanna talk about?”
The raccoon sipped her glass without reaction, while the vole eyed it distastefully before sipping and placing it down again. Not wanting to be the odd man out, Thomas sipped his and the wheeze that escaped his lips as his throat burned was the best he could manage in his attempt not to choke on it.
How the fuck was Gilbert drinking this like he was nothing more than beer?
“Mister Hertz. You have inadvertently found yourself in the middle of a situation you do not belong in. I do not know what Mister Summer has told you, but I can promise you that none of it will be accurate.”
“You attacked him for no reason,” Thomas said before stopping himself. The alcohol couldn’t be affecting him already, right?
“Did he tell you that?” the man asked, while the raccoon smirked. As refined as Magnet seemed, there was something sleazy about Lullaby, even in the expensive clothing. “Have you considered that Mister Summer has given us reasons to want to bring him to justice?”
“So da kangaroo’s a criminal?” Gilbert asked, sounding too interested, too pleased for Thomas’s comfort. Grant wasn’t a criminal. He had a second independent source telling him the Chamber was bad news, so—
They didn’t know he’d spoken with Shila. They might not even know she existed. They thought all he had to go by was what Grant had told him and what Thomas had seen. They would think they could twist any of that to their advantage, and if he let them, could he turn the situation to get himself and Gilbert out of this? They were unarmed, after all.
Or were they? His friends could do more than use their powers. Grant could make talismans. Could the Chamber? He couldn’t remember Grant saying anything about that, but they used staves like he did.
“I hate this,” he grumbled. Any way he looked at it, his troubles only increased. He sipped his glass and choked on whiskey.
“Yes,” Magnet said, amused, “Mister Summer has put you in a rather bad position. But I want to reassure you. You hold no interest to us; you are merely a bystander. If you tell us where Grant is, we will take him, and leave you and your friends be.”
Was that a threat? Thomas looked into the glass for answers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gilbert watching him. He couldn’t read the expression. He couldn’t believe them, could he? He’d heard what Shila had to say about them. And while these two were here, the other two had to be out there, looking for Grant or his friends.
Wait, how had Magnet and Lullaby known to come here, into this restaurant? There had been no surprise when the vole had locked eyes with Thomas. Not even some at finding Gilbert with him. He’d even know Gilbert’s name.
Then there was the teleportation.
Everyone who’d found out about it told him the same thing. He was doing the impossible, and these two, who had seen him teleport away with Grant, claimed they weren’t interested?
He sighed and hoped Gilbert wouldn’t contradict him. “I don’t know where he is. We split up not long after I took him from you.”
“Mister Hertz,” the vole said, tone turning severe, “I find it difficult to believe you, considering you are currently in Red Deer.”
“I’m on the run,” he replied, trying to sound exasperated. “First from this guy.” He hiked a thumb toward Gilbert. “Then with him from the guy who sent them after me. We figured no one sane would chase us into these frozen wastelands.” Oh fuck. He was going to have to go outside again.
“Kid,” the raccoon said, her accent thicker. “Don’t play this game, okay? The roo’s not worth it. He’d drop you the moment things got hard. He did drop you. Just tell us where he is and we’re gone. You never have to hear from us again.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Thomas replied, the mounting frustration real.
“I am asking you,” the vole said, “politely, to reconsider your answer, Mister Hertz. While I am not in a position to do you any lasting damage, it is well within my power to inflict pan the likes you cannot imagine. To you, and Mister Rowling,” he added.
“Why can’t you kill him?” Gilbert asked, frowning and his accent gone.
“Part of an agreement with a third party,” the vole answered with a dismissive wave of the hand.
“Like we’re going to do that guy’s bidding.” The raccoon snorted, only to be glared at by the vole. “What? Don’t tell me you give a damn what his plans are for the kid. He’s the only teleporter in existence.”
“I think you tipped your hand,” Gilbert said. “Thomas, get ready to run.” He took a quick drink, then raised his other hand, palm up, to his lips.
With a curse, Thomas grabs his overcoat as the vole opened his mouth.
The flame appeared over the armadillo’s palm as he blew his mouthful of whiskey at it. It exploded into a fireball, forcing the vole and raccoon away. Gilbert was at his side, also putting on his overcoat, as they rushed for the door.",
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