Obligatory Disclaimer: Not mine, all Warner Brothers/TNT/Top Cows. Just trying to advertise for them a bit.
Rising Angels
by medea42
Gabe and Sly were sick of playing Nintendo. School wasn't a big priority for either one of them that October afternoon. At eighteen they'd both left foster homes and were struggling to finish high school and keep their current rat hole over their heads through their pizza delivery jobs. A few truancies here and there were expected; in New York public schools, regular attendance was far more suspect, especially for two guys who were legal.
Gabe set his joystick down. "Man, Frogger's getting kind of old."
"Yeah, but the price was right." They'd dug the game system and a couple of archaic cartridges out of the dumpster in the back of the apartment complex where they lived. The Tetris was kind of addictive, but Gabe just didn't share Sly's appreciation for froggy roadkill. Sly was happy to kill their day off on a new toy.
Sly was a moment by moment kind of guy, but Gabe, he tried to plan ahead. Today his plans included scrounging up some necessities.
"I need some boots, man. Winter's coming, and there's a lot of walking we're going to have to do."
Sly set his joystick down. "You go ahead and dig, man, I want to finish some drawings." Sly had stolen some inks and papers from the art storage room at school. He drew these fantastic comic book figures, but comic book art wasn't something that a public education art teacher would exactly encourage so his efforts to garner attention from his teachers were ignored . Since they were ignored, Sly was taking his share in petty theft. "It's my tax dollars they're not following up on," he'd told Gabe as he stuffed supplies in his bag and down his pants. Sly had also stolen a scholarship application out of the folder of one of the "good" kids at school; some Vorschlag industries tax write-off. Gabe was all for seeing Sly succeed in his dream, but the odds were not good with his interests and way of living.
Gabe caught sight of his duct taped tennis shoes and grinned to himself. Then again, his odds weren't so fantastic either. The dumpsters at the strip mall on the next block might have something useful, but Gabe wanted something with a little more adventure to it. He wandered to the middle of Queens, searching for a building or business that might prove fruitful. For reasons he didn't entirely understand, he settled on the dumpster behind the public library.
"Maybe I can just strap some books to my feet when it's icy," he said as he flipped open the cover. Still, he had to peer inside. Maybe he'd find some light reading -- or some heavy reading. Life without cable meant he had to stretch his entertainment resources.
There were piles of magazines. Gabe brushed aside some Business Weeks, grabbed a couple archaic Playboys. His eye fell on a fairly thick, yellowed book, and for some reason, he felt compelled to toss aside the boy-candy and grab it. He dusted off the cover and took a close look. "Amulets and talismans," the cover said. He paged through it carefully -- Gabe was amazed that the paper wasn't yet dust.
There were sketches of artifacts, estimations of value on items as small as a ring. Gabe flipped to the copyright date - 19th century. He idly wondered why this book wasn't being preserved as an antique. Still, the subject matter was kind of cool, and would make for some good reading. Who knew, maybe he'd stumble across one of those rare talismans.
As luck would have it, Gabe couldn't find any boots tossed out anywhere. It was like New York City suddenly had a boot shortage in his size -- so everyone was keeping theirs instead of tossing them into dumpsters. As of the end of November, it sucked when he was outside, but Sly had found them a new entertainment that kept him indoors more. He'd salvaged an ancient computer system and programming manuals from behind a technical school, and between the two of them were rapidly learning Basic programming and climbing into more advanced material from there.
"Yeah, the government opened the Arpanet to the public a few years back, and it's turning into this huge phenomenon," Sly explained. "I'm not sure I totally get it myself, but hey, it just might lead to a new kind of anarchy." Either way, they were both grateful for the buddy that waived the electronic bulletin board fees so they could check out their new toy free.
Gabe had brought Sly some Nietzche he found in a later library dumpster run in gratitude for the internet hookup. Sly loved it; the guy was now spouting about anarchy and existentialism all the time. His interest in the computer itself was fleeting, leaving Gabe time to go onto newsgroups and make invisible friends. Eventually he wandered into alt.talismans, and felt like he'd come home. The first message he opened up was asking about his book.
alt.talismans
November 11, 1993
[email protected]
Hey, I found this great piece of Aztec jewelry, but I'm trying to find more information on it. I was looking through Books in Print, and the only book with a matching reference was A Complete Catalogue of Amulets and Talismans by Francis Agrippa, printed in 1888. Anyone know of any rare or out of print book dealers that might have it? It's worth 10K to me right now. Hell, it's worth 100K if someone would open up a clearinghouse of some of this stuff -- you know, Mayan pottery right next to shrunken heads.
Sly thought he was going to have to jack Gabe's mouth closed. "Hey, what's the matter man?"
"If this guy is serious, my dumpster diving find turned up a fortune." Gabe picked up the book that he'd set by the computer. He could use a few K at this point in his life, as could Sly. Sly was putting a lot of effort into that arts scholarship application, but Gabe just wasn't so sure of Sly's chances. He'd hate to see the guy disappointed in the face of the very nothing they already had. The idea of opening a business sounded tempting, but what the hell did he know?
Sly stood over his shoulder. "Hey, that piece of dust you found is worth something?" he asked after reading the message.
"Yeah." Gabe flexed his fingers. "I'm going to write the guy back and make him an offer."
Sly reached over and turned off the monitor. "Naw, don't man."
"Why!?" the roof they had over their head was a leaky one at best, and Sly was telling him not to take an opportunity to fix that?
"I just have a weird feeling. Don't. It can wait -- besides, we need to get going." Sly was pulling on his jacket.
"For what?"
"I got you a hook up for some decent boots, man."
The funky little thrift shop on 9th rarely captured Gabe's attention, because normally even thrift stores were outside his budget. He was still stretching his clothes along from what was purchased on his last AFDC check last year. "C'mon man, I don't have the money for this place," he told Sly.
"Store's closed, it's not about buying."
Gabe was aghast. "We're not breaking in here are we?"
"Nothing like that." Sly tapped on the glass. A large sign in the window said that the shop closed three hours ago.
A young woman with long light blue hair and brown eyes appeared from behind a counter and unlocked a door. "Sly! Hey baby, how's tricks?" She had enough piercings on her lips that Gabe wondered if she could eat, or even close her mouth. The outfit was cute though -- showed off a lithe, waif thin body.
Sly slid in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm doing OK, Kelly." Gabe stepped in behind him.
Kelly gave Gabe an appreciative look. "Who's your friend? Did you bring me a treat?"
Gabe's eyebrows shot up. He was a treat? He couldn't politely ask if Sly was going to try to feed him to some man-eater and call it a favor.
"He's the guy I told you about, that needs the boots."
Kelly smiled broadly, revealing a lovely barbell through her tongue. "Oh yeah, this way!" she gestured for them to follow her to the back of the store. "I will be taking this out of you in trade, though."
As long as the trade was only labor intensive, Gabe was okay. He looked around the shop casually as he and Sly wandered after Kelly. The place was sopping with weird stuff -- cast iron cauldrons, candle holders, and a preponderance of black lace vintage anything. This was not your corner thrift shop on a Sunday. Gabe's eye eventually fell on a beaded necklace, woven in a spider pattern. He wandered over and picked it up. The handwork was excellent, and from looking at the beading, it appeared that the beads were pure coral. He wasn't an expert, but based the reading he'd done in the newsgroup and his book, the beads looked as though they'd been pierced by stone tools, rather than metal.
Sly tugged his arm. "Hey, this isn't a browsing tour."
Kelly wandered back. "What you got there, Gabe?"
Gabe held up the necklace. "You know what this is?"
Sly eyed the necklace askance. "I get a weird vibe from that thing, man."
Kelly took the necklace and looked at it closely. "Oh, this. Some guy brought it in when his old lady died. Babbled about it being cursed. You can have it for a buck fifty."
Gabe fished some quarters out of his pockets. "Done."
"You're not gonna leave that out in our place are you?" Sly asked him as they proceeded to the back room of the thrift shop.
That evening, a newly booted and somewhat exhausted Gabe sat at the computer with the book and the necklace in front of him.
Sly stepped out of the shower. "Damn, I didn't know when Kelly said she'd take it out of us in labor that she really meant labor."
Gabe grinned. "Yeah, I never want to see another packed box again for a long time."
Sly shuddered. "Some of the stuff people donate is just gross. "
"Said by the man that introduced me to dumpster diving!" Gabe toasted him with his pop. "If you think it's gross, then verily, it IS disgusting." He looked blankly at the screen for a moment, before he remembered. "Hey Sly, there's some letter for you on the counter from Vorschlag industries. Might want to take a look before you go to work."
"Yeah? Maybe Kenneth Irons decided to give me a living allowance so I can be his kept boy." Sly wandered over to the counter. Gabe grinned at the idea of Sly being "kept." The sounds of ripping paper faded from Gabe's immediate consciousness as he focused on the sketch in the book in front of him.
The sketch in the book showed the necklace had not an Aztec but an Inca heredity, with information on the folklore of a Spider goddess. The details about the amulet matched perfectly with what Gabe held before him. Supposedly, there was only one in the world. A sort of South American hope diamond. After a moment's reflection, he posted to alt.talismans:
alt.talismans
[email protected]
Hey, I found this piece in a thrift shop, looks interesting. According to my copy of Amulets and Talismans, it's the Spider Goddess queen necklace. The details check out; anyone in New York City area interested?
Gabe sent the message off and sat back, reading through other posts to the newsgroup. He was enjoying the hot debate over the relative value of amethyst charms, particularly with the price cutting that happened as the New Age market was rising. He'd logged on to learn about cool objects and folklore, but he was picking up scads of information about business. Gabe took a sip of his pop. If he had the money, he knew enough to start the perfect niche business.
Whooping from Sly caused Gabe to spit the pop out onto the screen. "What's the matter with you?" he yelled over his shoulder as he took off his shirt to mop off the screen.
Sly was dancing and jumping in a display that Gabe could blackmail his existentialist ass for if he could have afforded a Polaroid. Sly, at that moment, did not care. "I'm in! Man, I'm going to art school!" Gabe never thought he would ever see Sly do a cartwheel sober. "I've got to go tell Kelly," he announced, and did another cartwheel on the way out the door.
Gabe picked up the letter that Sly had dropped on the floor.
"Dear. Mr. Sylvester Marcus-
Upon reviewing all applicants, we are happy to inform you that you have been selected
to receive the Vorschlag scholarship for the fine arts. Choose any school you like at
any price you like, a refreshingly original talent such as yourself deserves support.
As part of your award, it would be my pleasure to have you as a guest this next
Friday evening. Please stop in my home for dinner, and an evening of discussing
my art collection.
Sincerely,
Mr. Kenneth Irons."
Gabe whistled. Sly had definitely hit the jackpot, and good for him! He set the letter on the desk. Maybe he could dig up a cheap frame and some backing, Sly would dig that for a Christmas present. He returned to reviewing the newsgroup, thoroughly enjoying the education he was getting about what people do -- and what people would pay -- when they are passionate about something. He finished the last message and purged the folder. At the end of the purge, there was a private message for him:
Replyto: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
re: Spider Goddess talisman
I'm in New York City, heard rumors that the relic had made its way around here. Supposedly the owner always gets bit by a black widow spider; if you're still around, that's probably just a myth. If you've got the real deal, it's worth 25K to me. Call me at 555-3448.
Gabe's jaw dropped yet again.. 25K? He was lucky to pull 10K a year at his delivery job. He tried to wrap his mind around that amount of money. He tried to wrap his mind further around that amount of money for a necklace he'd bought as a goof for a buck fifty. No way was this the real deal -- but in case it was -- he wrote down the number on his hand and disconnected the computer from the phone line.
"Hi, I'm looking for someone who goes by the username Greed God on the New York City BBS?"
A man's voice answered. "Yeah, that's me. You Angelboy?"
"Yeah. You said you were interested in the Spider Goddess talisman?"
"Been looking for it for years. You got the real thing, kid, I'll set you up good. Me and the guy that goes by jeweleriejunkie are looking for an original investment."
"Sounds good to me. Where do you want me to bring this to?"
"Here's the address. I'll have my own expert there. If it's real, you get cash up front."
Why not? It was his night off, and all he had to lose was time and a cup of coffee. Gabe wrote down the address and left a note for Sly. He scooped the necklace into his pocket and set out into the chilly November night. Maybe when he got home, he'd have a reason to do cartwheels, too.
As the door closed behind him, a spider with a red dot on her back scurried across the Gabe's note to Sly and disappeared into the floorboards.
Rising Angels
by medea42
Gabe and Sly were sick of playing Nintendo. School wasn't a big priority for either one of them that October afternoon. At eighteen they'd both left foster homes and were struggling to finish high school and keep their current rat hole over their heads through their pizza delivery jobs. A few truancies here and there were expected; in New York public schools, regular attendance was far more suspect, especially for two guys who were legal.
Gabe set his joystick down. "Man, Frogger's getting kind of old."
"Yeah, but the price was right." They'd dug the game system and a couple of archaic cartridges out of the dumpster in the back of the apartment complex where they lived. The Tetris was kind of addictive, but Gabe just didn't share Sly's appreciation for froggy roadkill. Sly was happy to kill their day off on a new toy.
Sly was a moment by moment kind of guy, but Gabe, he tried to plan ahead. Today his plans included scrounging up some necessities.
"I need some boots, man. Winter's coming, and there's a lot of walking we're going to have to do."
Sly set his joystick down. "You go ahead and dig, man, I want to finish some drawings." Sly had stolen some inks and papers from the art storage room at school. He drew these fantastic comic book figures, but comic book art wasn't something that a public education art teacher would exactly encourage so his efforts to garner attention from his teachers were ignored . Since they were ignored, Sly was taking his share in petty theft. "It's my tax dollars they're not following up on," he'd told Gabe as he stuffed supplies in his bag and down his pants. Sly had also stolen a scholarship application out of the folder of one of the "good" kids at school; some Vorschlag industries tax write-off. Gabe was all for seeing Sly succeed in his dream, but the odds were not good with his interests and way of living.
Gabe caught sight of his duct taped tennis shoes and grinned to himself. Then again, his odds weren't so fantastic either. The dumpsters at the strip mall on the next block might have something useful, but Gabe wanted something with a little more adventure to it. He wandered to the middle of Queens, searching for a building or business that might prove fruitful. For reasons he didn't entirely understand, he settled on the dumpster behind the public library.
"Maybe I can just strap some books to my feet when it's icy," he said as he flipped open the cover. Still, he had to peer inside. Maybe he'd find some light reading -- or some heavy reading. Life without cable meant he had to stretch his entertainment resources.
There were piles of magazines. Gabe brushed aside some Business Weeks, grabbed a couple archaic Playboys. His eye fell on a fairly thick, yellowed book, and for some reason, he felt compelled to toss aside the boy-candy and grab it. He dusted off the cover and took a close look. "Amulets and talismans," the cover said. He paged through it carefully -- Gabe was amazed that the paper wasn't yet dust.
There were sketches of artifacts, estimations of value on items as small as a ring. Gabe flipped to the copyright date - 19th century. He idly wondered why this book wasn't being preserved as an antique. Still, the subject matter was kind of cool, and would make for some good reading. Who knew, maybe he'd stumble across one of those rare talismans.
As luck would have it, Gabe couldn't find any boots tossed out anywhere. It was like New York City suddenly had a boot shortage in his size -- so everyone was keeping theirs instead of tossing them into dumpsters. As of the end of November, it sucked when he was outside, but Sly had found them a new entertainment that kept him indoors more. He'd salvaged an ancient computer system and programming manuals from behind a technical school, and between the two of them were rapidly learning Basic programming and climbing into more advanced material from there.
"Yeah, the government opened the Arpanet to the public a few years back, and it's turning into this huge phenomenon," Sly explained. "I'm not sure I totally get it myself, but hey, it just might lead to a new kind of anarchy." Either way, they were both grateful for the buddy that waived the electronic bulletin board fees so they could check out their new toy free.
Gabe had brought Sly some Nietzche he found in a later library dumpster run in gratitude for the internet hookup. Sly loved it; the guy was now spouting about anarchy and existentialism all the time. His interest in the computer itself was fleeting, leaving Gabe time to go onto newsgroups and make invisible friends. Eventually he wandered into alt.talismans, and felt like he'd come home. The first message he opened up was asking about his book.
alt.talismans
November 11, 1993
[email protected]
Hey, I found this great piece of Aztec jewelry, but I'm trying to find more information on it. I was looking through Books in Print, and the only book with a matching reference was A Complete Catalogue of Amulets and Talismans by Francis Agrippa, printed in 1888. Anyone know of any rare or out of print book dealers that might have it? It's worth 10K to me right now. Hell, it's worth 100K if someone would open up a clearinghouse of some of this stuff -- you know, Mayan pottery right next to shrunken heads.
Sly thought he was going to have to jack Gabe's mouth closed. "Hey, what's the matter man?"
"If this guy is serious, my dumpster diving find turned up a fortune." Gabe picked up the book that he'd set by the computer. He could use a few K at this point in his life, as could Sly. Sly was putting a lot of effort into that arts scholarship application, but Gabe just wasn't so sure of Sly's chances. He'd hate to see the guy disappointed in the face of the very nothing they already had. The idea of opening a business sounded tempting, but what the hell did he know?
Sly stood over his shoulder. "Hey, that piece of dust you found is worth something?" he asked after reading the message.
"Yeah." Gabe flexed his fingers. "I'm going to write the guy back and make him an offer."
Sly reached over and turned off the monitor. "Naw, don't man."
"Why!?" the roof they had over their head was a leaky one at best, and Sly was telling him not to take an opportunity to fix that?
"I just have a weird feeling. Don't. It can wait -- besides, we need to get going." Sly was pulling on his jacket.
"For what?"
"I got you a hook up for some decent boots, man."
The funky little thrift shop on 9th rarely captured Gabe's attention, because normally even thrift stores were outside his budget. He was still stretching his clothes along from what was purchased on his last AFDC check last year. "C'mon man, I don't have the money for this place," he told Sly.
"Store's closed, it's not about buying."
Gabe was aghast. "We're not breaking in here are we?"
"Nothing like that." Sly tapped on the glass. A large sign in the window said that the shop closed three hours ago.
A young woman with long light blue hair and brown eyes appeared from behind a counter and unlocked a door. "Sly! Hey baby, how's tricks?" She had enough piercings on her lips that Gabe wondered if she could eat, or even close her mouth. The outfit was cute though -- showed off a lithe, waif thin body.
Sly slid in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm doing OK, Kelly." Gabe stepped in behind him.
Kelly gave Gabe an appreciative look. "Who's your friend? Did you bring me a treat?"
Gabe's eyebrows shot up. He was a treat? He couldn't politely ask if Sly was going to try to feed him to some man-eater and call it a favor.
"He's the guy I told you about, that needs the boots."
Kelly smiled broadly, revealing a lovely barbell through her tongue. "Oh yeah, this way!" she gestured for them to follow her to the back of the store. "I will be taking this out of you in trade, though."
As long as the trade was only labor intensive, Gabe was okay. He looked around the shop casually as he and Sly wandered after Kelly. The place was sopping with weird stuff -- cast iron cauldrons, candle holders, and a preponderance of black lace vintage anything. This was not your corner thrift shop on a Sunday. Gabe's eye eventually fell on a beaded necklace, woven in a spider pattern. He wandered over and picked it up. The handwork was excellent, and from looking at the beading, it appeared that the beads were pure coral. He wasn't an expert, but based the reading he'd done in the newsgroup and his book, the beads looked as though they'd been pierced by stone tools, rather than metal.
Sly tugged his arm. "Hey, this isn't a browsing tour."
Kelly wandered back. "What you got there, Gabe?"
Gabe held up the necklace. "You know what this is?"
Sly eyed the necklace askance. "I get a weird vibe from that thing, man."
Kelly took the necklace and looked at it closely. "Oh, this. Some guy brought it in when his old lady died. Babbled about it being cursed. You can have it for a buck fifty."
Gabe fished some quarters out of his pockets. "Done."
"You're not gonna leave that out in our place are you?" Sly asked him as they proceeded to the back room of the thrift shop.
That evening, a newly booted and somewhat exhausted Gabe sat at the computer with the book and the necklace in front of him.
Sly stepped out of the shower. "Damn, I didn't know when Kelly said she'd take it out of us in labor that she really meant labor."
Gabe grinned. "Yeah, I never want to see another packed box again for a long time."
Sly shuddered. "Some of the stuff people donate is just gross. "
"Said by the man that introduced me to dumpster diving!" Gabe toasted him with his pop. "If you think it's gross, then verily, it IS disgusting." He looked blankly at the screen for a moment, before he remembered. "Hey Sly, there's some letter for you on the counter from Vorschlag industries. Might want to take a look before you go to work."
"Yeah? Maybe Kenneth Irons decided to give me a living allowance so I can be his kept boy." Sly wandered over to the counter. Gabe grinned at the idea of Sly being "kept." The sounds of ripping paper faded from Gabe's immediate consciousness as he focused on the sketch in the book in front of him.
The sketch in the book showed the necklace had not an Aztec but an Inca heredity, with information on the folklore of a Spider goddess. The details about the amulet matched perfectly with what Gabe held before him. Supposedly, there was only one in the world. A sort of South American hope diamond. After a moment's reflection, he posted to alt.talismans:
alt.talismans
[email protected]
Hey, I found this piece in a thrift shop, looks interesting. According to my copy of Amulets and Talismans, it's the Spider Goddess queen necklace. The details check out; anyone in New York City area interested?
Gabe sent the message off and sat back, reading through other posts to the newsgroup. He was enjoying the hot debate over the relative value of amethyst charms, particularly with the price cutting that happened as the New Age market was rising. He'd logged on to learn about cool objects and folklore, but he was picking up scads of information about business. Gabe took a sip of his pop. If he had the money, he knew enough to start the perfect niche business.
Whooping from Sly caused Gabe to spit the pop out onto the screen. "What's the matter with you?" he yelled over his shoulder as he took off his shirt to mop off the screen.
Sly was dancing and jumping in a display that Gabe could blackmail his existentialist ass for if he could have afforded a Polaroid. Sly, at that moment, did not care. "I'm in! Man, I'm going to art school!" Gabe never thought he would ever see Sly do a cartwheel sober. "I've got to go tell Kelly," he announced, and did another cartwheel on the way out the door.
Gabe picked up the letter that Sly had dropped on the floor.
"Dear. Mr. Sylvester Marcus-
Upon reviewing all applicants, we are happy to inform you that you have been selected
to receive the Vorschlag scholarship for the fine arts. Choose any school you like at
any price you like, a refreshingly original talent such as yourself deserves support.
As part of your award, it would be my pleasure to have you as a guest this next
Friday evening. Please stop in my home for dinner, and an evening of discussing
my art collection.
Sincerely,
Mr. Kenneth Irons."
Gabe whistled. Sly had definitely hit the jackpot, and good for him! He set the letter on the desk. Maybe he could dig up a cheap frame and some backing, Sly would dig that for a Christmas present. He returned to reviewing the newsgroup, thoroughly enjoying the education he was getting about what people do -- and what people would pay -- when they are passionate about something. He finished the last message and purged the folder. At the end of the purge, there was a private message for him:
Replyto: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
re: Spider Goddess talisman
I'm in New York City, heard rumors that the relic had made its way around here. Supposedly the owner always gets bit by a black widow spider; if you're still around, that's probably just a myth. If you've got the real deal, it's worth 25K to me. Call me at 555-3448.
Gabe's jaw dropped yet again.. 25K? He was lucky to pull 10K a year at his delivery job. He tried to wrap his mind around that amount of money. He tried to wrap his mind further around that amount of money for a necklace he'd bought as a goof for a buck fifty. No way was this the real deal -- but in case it was -- he wrote down the number on his hand and disconnected the computer from the phone line.
"Hi, I'm looking for someone who goes by the username Greed God on the New York City BBS?"
A man's voice answered. "Yeah, that's me. You Angelboy?"
"Yeah. You said you were interested in the Spider Goddess talisman?"
"Been looking for it for years. You got the real thing, kid, I'll set you up good. Me and the guy that goes by jeweleriejunkie are looking for an original investment."
"Sounds good to me. Where do you want me to bring this to?"
"Here's the address. I'll have my own expert there. If it's real, you get cash up front."
Why not? It was his night off, and all he had to lose was time and a cup of coffee. Gabe wrote down the address and left a note for Sly. He scooped the necklace into his pocket and set out into the chilly November night. Maybe when he got home, he'd have a reason to do cartwheels, too.
As the door closed behind him, a spider with a red dot on her back scurried across the Gabe's note to Sly and disappeared into the floorboards.