What's in a Name?

[daniel_stacy]

“Solomon’s Scrolls.” Daniel scratched the stubble on his jaw. “Huh.” It was his first time going to the magic shop – any magic shop – so he didn’t know what to expect, but a Biblical reference for a name wasn’t high on the list. At the door he hesitated before he touched the knob. What if there was a spell on it? Would it burn like a cross? He had touched one of those once, just for shits and grins. Man, it hurt.

He licked his finger and slapped the door knob twice, until he was satisfied it wouldn’t fry him. Then he entered and sniffed the air, which smelled of herbs and candle wax. He spotted Melody up front and cruised right up to her. “Wasn’t Solomon the guy who taught his son to use astrology for sexual gratification?”

He hopped on a table. Two candles toppled and rolled across the velvety tablecloth.

[Thread]

What Happens When...?

[maddy_ricks]

Maddy was drunk. So very drunk. She tottered on a pair of ill-advised heels and stared at a yellow concrete wall. It was the side of an E-Z-mart, three blocks off the main drag in Las Vegas where the neighborhood started to get shifty. She had a bottle of booze in a brown paper bag, super classy, and a hot dog with extra relish. She was already dreading throwing it up later.

A few yards away, a bum huddled on the curb next to a phone booth. Maddy lifted her hooch in a respectful salute. “Exes, man,” she said. The bum lifted his drink in solidarity.

Five minutes with Gus had really fucked with her head and put her in full scale rebellion. Be a good girl, Maddy. Play nice. Join up with Team White. Well, what had Team White ever done for her? And since when was he on it?!

She wiped her nose and decided this spot was as good as any. Under her arm pit, Maddy held a can of spray paint. She shook it and a ball rattled in the canister. The paint went on too heavy and wet, but it wasn’t important to be anal-retentive. With three slow lines and a circular dot, the outline of a door was obvious. Maddy dropped the partial can.

“Let’s see… who shall we invite over for drinks?” She whirled on the bum, whose name was actually Sal, and gave him a bright (slightly crazed) smile. “No ideas? Hm? Well… This is Vegas. We’ll let the chips fall where they may.”

With pinched fingers, Maddy retrieved the key and its chain from her neckline. Then she closed her eyes and thought of…

Nothing. The Void. Which was no void at all, because it was full of entities, doorways, chaos. Then, before her brain could pull a Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man Maneuver, she pressed the key to the makeshift door knob. There was a click. A slow creak of hinges. An unusually charged breeze on her face, an otherworldly breeze that smelled faintly of mothballs and ozone.

And that is how Maddy left the wall, with a wide opening into Nowhere, and no clue what waited on the opposite side. She turned in the direction of home. "Later,” she told Sal around a mouthful of hot dog.

Yeah. Let the chips fall where they may.