| Life is Good |
[18 Jul 2009|01:19pm] |
It might’ve been Logan’s day off, but he learned a while ago that business owners still had things to do even when they weren’t actually working. In this case, the owner of Thoth’s Library had a phone call to return and a new order to place. That meant camping out on the couch with the television on mute, a sea of papers strewn about on the coffee table in front of him.
The Chicago Tribune had called again wanting an interview for a feature on the store; Logan again declined. He supposed an argument could be made for free publicity; people could read the article and decide to check out the store on their own, but the former Watcher wasn’t comfortable letting the media in – particularly after the fiasco surrounding Avery and the local TV station.
He just knew that would come up again if he let the Tribune weasel its way in.
“Ms. Ravencroft,” Logan spoke once the other line picked up, the black receiver trapped between his left ear and shoulder. “It’s Logan. It’s going great, some books I can’t keep in stock. Which is … kinda why I’m calling. I need another shipment of your Witchcraft and Vampires.
( Off-Day Business )
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| Not Backing Out |
[04 Jul 2009|04:00pm] |
It was a good thing Logan wasn't a very messy person.
Though he honestly had no idea what to expect when Janine called him back to accept his invitation to a date, Logan couldn't have imagined they'd wind up back at his apartment after the typical dinner-and-movie fare. An admittedly trite date for this point in the 21st century, but it apparently worked. The former Watcher cringed as he unlocked the door to his apartment and it swung open, revealing a stack of folded-up papers and three leather-bound tomes on the coffee table.
At this point, Logan couldn't even remember what he was researching. He crossed the threshold after his date, closing the door behind him before heading straight for the coffee table. Trying to arrange the stack of papers neatly, Logan folded up a few of the less cooperative pieces before placing them inside the front cover of the top book, setting the stack aside to the floor.
"Sorry about the mess," he said sheepishly. "Though I guess ... better books than crumpled-up beer cans."
( I think I'd rather ... (Adult Content: Mild Sexuality) )
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| Recognition |
[19 Apr 2009|02:29pm] |
Though Logan traditionally had trouble getting up before 10 in the morning, being a business owner helped change his clock somewhat. That wasn’t to say he didn’t still need help in the morning – thank the Gods he had his own coffee machine – but the thought of rising at 6 a.m. wasn’t the nightmare it once was.
Taking a long swig from his thermos once he parked in the garage nears the shopping center that housed Thoth’s Library, Logan locked the door to his green Civic and headed toward the stairs leading to the garage’s exit. A posted hanging on the wall to the right of the stairwell gave the former Watcher pause, though, and he stopped in his tracks to glance at it.
Missing posters weren’t anything new in Chicago, particularly considering the large vampire population. Logan wondered if the recent re-opening of Lincoln Park had anything to do with it – sure, everyone in a position of authority said the mutants were no longer an issue, but was that really the case?
Logan wasn’t so sure.
( A phone call and an email )
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| Game |
[15 Apr 2009|02:32pm] |
Between the close brush at the bar last week and the offer from The New York Post to be their supernatural affairs reporter, Logan had a busy week. He was dreading the call to Grant Norris to turn down the offer, realizing he wouldn't have a good enough reason for doing so in the eyes of the editor. He could just hear Grant now ... You're turning down a return to the lucrative field of journalism for what? Retail?!
Yes. Yes, he was.
It wasn't so much that he loved retail -- though it certainly had its advantages -- but Logan knew he was doing a lot more good running Thoth's Library than he ever would as a reporter for that paper in New York. The Post wasn't nearly the reputable paper the Times was -- for all the former Watcher knew, the Post was some tabloidesque rag that spent all its time and resources tailing Alex Rodriguez and trashing the Yankees if they had the nerve to so much as lose a game.
It was enough to make Logan glad he was a Mets fan.
( I have an idea )
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| Dig In |
[07 Apr 2009|03:54pm] |
Dear Mr. Guevera,
THE NEW YORK POST is proud to inform you of our interest in your services. We are prepared to offer you a full-time position as supernatural affairs reporter with our paper. We are aware of your previous journalistic experience at The Clark County Beacon, as well as your internship with The New York Times. We are also aware of your expertise in matters supernatural, and we feel you would be a perfect fit for our staff.
Enclosed is all the information you need should you decide to pursue this opportunity. If you have any questions, feel free to contact our news editor, Grant Norris, at the phone number atop this letter.
Thank you for your time and we hope you seriously consider our offer.
( Ramen and Diet Coke Diet )
[NPC Laurel was written by Dew.]
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| Rough Crowd |
[03 Apr 2009|04:59pm] |
Logan wasn't the sort of person to drown his sorrows in a beer after losing someone important in his life, but for some reason, he saw fit on this night to frequent one of the establishments about a block away from Thoth's Library for a drink. It wasn't so much because he was having a rough day -- though that was certainly part of it -- Logan just couldn't remember the last time he went to a bar without the intent of investigating something out of the ordinary.
Which, side note? When would people realize vampires loved bars? Logan was constantly aware of this, which was why he wore a silver cross around his neck under his olive green button-down ... well, that and the ever-constant spectre of Diego. There was no telling when the vampire would show his face again, though the former Watcher wondered how losing Izzy would change the game.
Knowing Diego, it probably wouldn't.
Still, it helped to be prepared. Logan did his best to drown out the live band "performing" on the stage to his left. The former Watcher didn't mind local music as a general rule, but this band was particularly grating. It wasn't that they lacked talent; Logan just didn't particularly care for the songs they chose to play.
( Rough Band )
[NPC Sandra was written by Jessica.]
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| Making a Start |
[30 Mar 2009|09:45pm] |
Things had been so busy at the store, between a new shipment of gemstones and incense and an influx of customers, that Logan didn't even have time to read the paper. Not that he was one to pour over every single inch of print, looking for something out of the ordinary, but it was nice to start the day at work with a cup of coffee and a copy of the Sun-Times. It was a routine for the former Watcher, something he could look forward to even when things weren't going the way he wanted.
Though he was feeling a tiny bit better with each passing day, Logan had to be honest; things were still touch-and-go for him. He'd have days -- or moments within days -- where he felt perfectly normal. There were others, though, where the enormity of losing his girlfriend resurfaces, and the former Watcher would heave an exhausted sigh and do his best to push out the thoughts of Izzy. He'd have plenty of time to allow himself a moment of emotional expression when he got home at night; sitting behind the counter at Thoth's Library was neither the time nor the place for it.
But the store was empty for the moment, the calm before the storm otherwise known at the lunch rush. Sighing, the former Watcher dropped himself into the swivel chair by his desk, shaking his head and grabbing the newspaper. Yet another allegation of corruption against the mayor ... as weird as things seemed anymore, it was somewhat comforting to know horribly mundane things were still noticed.
( Talk about blindsided )
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| Vampires 101 |
[20 Mar 2009|02:38pm] |
Pearl pressed against the cold stone of the building into the shadows as she watched the light-haired pale man walk towards the store. "Thoth's Library" looked innocent enough. Was it a vampire hangout? Who was this guy? He looked a lot like Allen. Had she found him finally? She could hardly keep herself from yelling to the man. He went in the front doors, Pearl quickly darting after him, peering sideways into the building then glancing briefly at her outfit in disgust. Blue jeans and a sunshine-yellow tank top were not good for following people. Pearl took a deep breath, then walked quietly into the store.
Having given Avery the night off, Logan found himself sitting behind the counter without much to do. It had seemed like a good idea at the time; pull a double shift at the store to keep from thinking much about his break-up with Izzy. Then again, that plan would've only worked had there been more than five customers all day, or if a shipment of inventory had been delivered. Alas, it was one of those slow days that left the former Watcher with nothing but time. Time led to thinking, which was not where Logan wanted to be in the days following the break-up.
Logan wasn't emotionally paralyzed by what happened, and he was certainly still able to sleep, eat, practice basic hygiene and go to work, but to say he was handling the whole thing with a stiff upper lip and a positive attitude would've been overstating things. It still hurt, and Logan could still see reminders of his ex everywhere he looked. Then again, she was with him when the store opened, and one of the back rooms was her workshop, so that stood to reason.
Boy, things had the potential to get awkward.
( Pyro-ki-something-or-other )
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| Unavoidable |
[12 Mar 2009|11:06pm] |
For a change, winter had loosened its grip on Chicago in its final weeks; hints of spring were in the air and Izzy left the heavy jacket that had been her constant companion for months behind in her closet in favor of a light sweater to ward off what chill there was. The tech-witch almost didn't want to go inside as she reached Logan's apartment building, but the desire to see her boyfriend won out over the warm breeze and before long she was knocking on his door.
It had taken a nearly Herculean effort to clean up the apartment and return it to normal, but Logan knew that was because of the sheer volume of the "message" left for him. Logan had kept every last photograph and piece of deranged memorabilia, stuffing them all in cardboard boxes in the far corner of the living room. It wasn't so much the sentimentality of it all, but the former Watcher was treating it all as evidence. There could be clues as to Diego's plans and whereabouts, and the sooner that vampire was found, the sooner someone could finally dust his ass once and for all.
If that leech ever touched Izzy, Logan would have to do it himself. Yeah ... nice wish.
The knock on his door coincided with the timer going off to signal the pasta was ready. Tonight's menu was a soft fettuccine dish, coupled with a small cut of sirloin, cooked medium well and a caesar salad. Not the most extravagant thing in the world, but Logan knew to stick with what he knew when it came to the culinary arts; experimenting would probably not end well for anyone.
( It Won't Break Me )
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| Recon, part 2 |
[20 Feb 2009|03:21pm] |
Logan forgot how much sewers smelled.
Then again, the collection of rat carcasses just to the left of the access ladder didn’t help matters. The former Watcher nearly lost his dinner when he set foot in the sewer, managing to only gag before grabbing a cloth from the small bag he toted his research supplies in and placing it over his mouth and nose.
Glancing at the pile of furry bodies, Logan counted eight rats. Mouths agape, some with eyes wide open. He found it odd to see that many rat carcasses so close; it was almost as if they’d been lured to that spot and killed, or they died elsewhere and someone or something placed them in that spot.
Either scenario was plausible. Logan paid it little mind, though, deciding for the moment to examine the rest of his surroundings. The camera had a light that put his flashlight to shame, so he used that instead. Dual purpose – not only could Logan use it to see where he was going, but should he see something of interest, a quick press of the button would give him several different shots.
( No In-Between )
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| Recon, Part 1 |
[20 Feb 2009|12:25pm] |
Well, the wall was still up. That much was good to know.
Though by no means a skilled photographer, Logan had long ago learned the value of taking pictures when examining something. Which was why he was camped on a rooftop near the Lincoln Park barricade – the same rooftop he was on the night he met Izzy, come to think of it – holding a Nikon that most would’ve considered overpriced.
The zoom lens attachment made the camera bulky, but considering the former Watcher had to keep his distance because of the guards, the camera’s cumbersome nature was a necessary burden. Crouched by the ledge, Logan squinted into the wind and lifted the camera.
Looking through the view finder and twisting the lens to zoom in further, the Logan watched one guard pacing to his right, semi-automatic cradled in his arms. He approached another guard, this one armed with just a walkie-talkie. A conversation began, though the former Watcher had no idea what they were saying.
( Wild Conjecture )
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| Blatant Invasion |
[18 Feb 2009|11:53am] |
So this was what blood running cold felt like.
Logan never experienced such a feeling before – not even the night he watched helplessly as Diego tore into Francis’ neck and drank from her. There had been shock, sure, not to mention anger and fear and a large chunk of mourning. But even that paled in comparison to this. Logan couldn’t even describe the chill running through him as he stood in the doorway to his apartment.
The one place he thought for sure he was safe. The display before him, the collage macabre greeting the former Watcher, was something one might expect to find in a clichéd horror flick, maybe even an episode of CSI: or Law and Order.
But it was real. Staring him right in the face. Setting his black shoulder bag on the white counter separating the kitchen from the living room, the bookstore owner’s eyes scanned the walls, near and far, seeing only the windows and ceiling undisturbed by whoever put together this little exhibit.
( I wonder, Watcher ... )
( Voicemail for Izzy )
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| membership Discount |
[17 Feb 2009|02:37pm] |
Logan wasn't quite sure how to feel.
The protestors had stopped making his storefront their place of residence, and for that the former Watcher was glad. He didn't know the details of why, since he'd made a point in recent weeks to steer clear of the news in all its various forms, but Logan didn't really care. The noise and the chants and the hatred were no longer camped out in front of his place of business, and that was really all that mattered. Some customers that stayed away even began coming back.
Still, the bookstore owner couldn't shake a vague feeling of dread. Not because the latest shipment of vampire and werewolf texts was late -- the UPS guy said he'd be there at 9, yet the clock was approaching noon and still no brown truck.
No, it had been almost a month and a half since Diego's appearance, and no sign of the vampire since.
Was Izzy right? Was there really nothing to be worried about? Logan wondered if that was the case; he no longer trained a Slayer, and Francis had been dead for over a year now. What would be the point in making Logan's life hell again? The vampire made it perfectly clear how little Logan mattered to him, so maybe he'd decided to skip town and leave things as they were.
Only Logan knew Diego better than that. The creep would show himself again, when least expected, and the former Watcher shuddered to think what his next entrance would entail. All the mystical security measures had been taken, at home and here in the store, but still, Logan wasn't comfortable.
( Just Between You and Me )
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| All Over the Place |
[20 Jan 2009|09:26pm] |
Logan had been right fearful the other night following his run-in with Diego, easily shaken by the unwanted blast from the past in spite of the bravado he showed during said encounter. Over time, though, that fear had transformed into anger. The nerve of Diego to intimate that Logan was a heartless bastard simply because Francis' death didn't destroy him, the audacity of threatening the things Logan currently held dear in his life. The confusing notion that Logan wasn't worth all the time in the world, yet the vampire was going to put forth as much effort as he could to make Logan's life hell.
The former Watcher was comfortable in knowing a lot of the city's White Hats were now abreast of the situation, grinning at the prospect of Rhiannon or Faith running into the vampire and turning him into a pile of dust. Still, there was an anger swelling within Logan, and he really didn't have much of an outlet for it. He considered buying a punching bag for his apartment, though that wasn't the best idea, considering he was still nursing the arm injury suffered in the fracas at New Year's Eve.
So instead, Logan sat on his couch, pouring through the journals he kept while Francis was his Slayer. He sent the originals to the Council as requested upon his dismissal, but not before making copies of all of them. Logan never expected to actually need these entries again -- he'd kept them purely for sentimental value -- but figuring they might be useful in studying Diego's tendencies, the former Watcher was reading through them all.
A time-consuming process, to be sure; Logan had been reading entries for three hours, and just started the second volume.
( Rattled )
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| False Bravado |
[14 Jan 2009|01:42pm] |
For all the things Logan took into account when he first opened Thoth's Library, there was one thing he forgot: a good health insurance plan for people who owned their own business. He hadn't really thought of it at the time, since he was healthy and not taking any medication, but since he was paying for a prescription of paid medication for his arm, the former Watcher was starting to realize having a plan for himself -- not to mention those who worked for him -- would be a good idea.
Then again, how would health insurance work for Avery? Would it? It wasn't like Avery needed to see a doctor, on account of already being dead, but something told Logan that if word got out he offered health insurance to Purity and not Avery, some workers' rights group or even the government would be on his ass.
Surprisingly mundane thoughts, considering the kind of business he ran, and the fact that one of his employees was a vampire. Even if he had insurance, though, would the company accept Logan's claim of "wound by disfigured mutant?"
Inquiring minds wanted to know-- especially since his prescription was due for a refill the next day. Even though he didn't remember the hours of the pharmacy down at the local Wal-Mart, he figured a quick trip to see if they were still open couldn't hurt. If they were, he could get the thing refilled tonight. If not, he'd simply go back when he went to lunch the next day.
The former Watcher winced as he put on his jacket, the motion causing a jolt of pain through his right arm. The pills did their job, but certain motions were going to hurt no matter how drugged up Logan was. Hopefully, the doctor would take him off the pills before too much longer.
It was easy, almost too easy, to track down the fool. After all, half of the fun was in the hunt. Without the hunt, it was just a matter of trapping a scared animal. And while that part had its own moments of sublime entertainment, Diego needed the rush of chasing a particularly formidable adversary. Of course, not too formidable. He had found the residence of one Mr. Logan Guevera through fairly mundane means -- the former Watcher had forgotten to request to be unlisted. He was able to enter the public foyer of the apartment building and scroll through a call box. L. Guevera was indeed a resident.
The vampire hadn't set his plan in motion the first night he had discovered this. No, he had been a nightly visitor for some days now, watching the man's nocturnal movements and schedule. Routine was the undoing of most humans, he had found.
He waited in the shadows behind a copse of decorative bushes. There was the urge for a cigarette, but he didn't want the smell to alert Logan to his presence.
Zipping up his coat the minute he left the warm confines of the building, Logan squinted into the teeth of the Chicago wind. That was one thing he'd liked about Denver; sure, it got really cold in January and February, but there was surprisingly little wind in the Mile High City. Logan figured being that high above sea level in the middle of the Rockies would've led to some gusty days, but such hadn't been the case.
Living in this massive metropolis next to a big old lake, though? Windy City, indeed.
Fishing for his car keys, the former Watcher found the endeavor nearly impossible with gloves covering his hands. He removed his left glove with his teeth, still clutching the garment as his bare -- and already freezing -- hand grabbed the keys and found the one he needed for his car. Unlocking the car -- manually by choice -- Logan paused by the door to put his glove back on, not eager to find out how long it would take for his fingers to turn blue.
He glanced at his surroundings as he slid his fingers into the glove, amazed at how quiet things seemed. If he were a paranoid man, he might've thought things were a little too quiet.
( You're really not )
[NPC Diego was written by Jessica.]
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| Offer Still Stands |
[09 Jan 2009|05:55pm] |
It looked like a nice enough shop. The front door was glassed-in, large windows to either side, an awning over the door. She could see some books on display, those and what looked like runes set up in a smaller case. The day was chilly but not too frigid, rays of sun creating long shadows on the sidewalk. She'd been standing here too long. She just had to walk through that door, because certain things needed to be ... discussed.
Michaela finally moved from her stationary post, walked up the stairs to Thoth's Library and opened the door, heard the bell jingle. She was done hiding, and there was nothing he could do to her anyway. The worst had already happened, and she was coming back from it.
The former homicide investigated waited to be noticed, loitering near the bookshelf nearest the front of the store. Waiting for Logan to catch sight of her.
Logan couldn't keep a lot of his books in stock following the incident on New Year's Eve, particularly anything related to mutation or general demonology. It seemed everyone wanted to know exactly what those creatures that escaped from the Lincoln Park barricade were, which meant a lot of people wound up in Thoth's Library, scouring the shelves with disgusted glances before finally picking one or two books to buy. The former Watcher wasn't going to complain about the business, but having lived through that ordeal, Logan wasn't really keen to keep reliving it.
Putting a vampire volume on one of the top shelves had proven difficult, thanks to the wound on his arm. It was still bandaged, and was healing well, but the movement stretched the skin and made Logan hiss in pain. He'd thought of asking Izzy to do a little spell on it, but she was so wiped from the spells she cast to help everyone escape and erect another barricade that he didn't want to chance it. Traditional medicine was working fine, though, so he couldn't complain too much.
Hearing the bell ring to signal another customer, Logan looked over with a smile. It disappeared almost immediately, though; not because he wasn't happy to see Michaela, but because he figured he had a pretty good idea of the conversation that was about to unfold. Logan figured he would've seen her after the holiday dinner, when he discovered Cory Blanchard was now in her care, and the former Watcher didn't know how he felt about that.
Part of him just didn't want to deal with it. After all, if the Council hadn't handcuffed him by telling him to stay out of everything, chances were a Slayer wouldn't have died and the child would still be with his mother. Still, if he was happy and healthy and safe, did it really matter who he was with now?
"Michaela," he greeted, feeling unsure of himself. "Hi."
( Either that or cigarettes )
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| Rattled |
[31 Dec 2008|07:05pm] |
After the incident with 'Corruption' and the exchange of voicemails with Logan and Juliet, Izzy wasted no time finding a thick pair of rubber gloves and a large trash bag. Shortly thereafter the pile of rotting flesh and broken bone, along with anything else on the surface of her workbench went into the trash bag and the tech-witch tied it closed with hands she had to concentrate hard to keep from shaking. She'd come back with bleach and other cleaning things sometime later to turn her work area so clean a person could eat off it.
That accomplished, Izzy moved to stand outside the store, hugging herself against more than cold.
Even though he could feel the burn in his lungs from the cold, Logan ran down the sidewalk toward Thoth's Library. There was some concern as to the well-being of the store, no question, but right now the former Watcher's main worry was his girlfriend. Izzy sounded particularly freaked on the phone, and considering what little Logan found out through emails before coming out, he really didn't like where things were going. That a being supposedly as powerful as Elfleda was planning something was worrisome enough; that she decided to make a house call to Logan's girlfriend was even worse.
The drive over had taken forever, Logan's mind swimming with theories and possibilities. The few books he's read at the apartment had nothing on the Corruptress, and he couldn't help but wonder if any of the volumes at the store would have anythng. It was unlikely, but he would look the next day regardless. If worse came to worse, the attachments Hayden sent everyone would probably be of some help.
If nothing else, it would be more than Logan already knew.
Turning the corner, the bookstore owner spotted Izzy standing out in the cold, slowing up once he came to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and running a hand through her blond hair. Logan took a few moment to catch his breath before speaking, loosening his hold to look into his girlfriend's eyes. "Hey," he huffed. "You alright?"
( Glad you're here )
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