---- M I S H A ----

Misha was now trying not to blame herself. But she was starting to get a sinking feeling about this whole business. She was getting in way too deep. But what choice did she have? Her brother was gone, possibly dead or worse, and she needed the funds to get him back. At whatever cost. It was as simple as that.

He had got sent down for a job gone wrong which would have been ok to wrangle out of unfortunately it was not that simple. It was not just money that was required it was the saving of face for the organisation he had stolen from. And it would be the hardest group to escape from – The Contortonists.

So she needed money and lots of it to get a team together of high enough flavour to break him out.

She had gone into the Emporium to filch some top-end highly desirable goods. She knew she would be risking her life in such an establishment. But that had been her simple plan - do the unexpected. Who would believe anyone would be brash enough to steal from right under the nose of the highest-octane trading house of antiquities, Purlbrights?

Sighing, she continued her running through her plans, taking stock of what had happened and mostly trying to calm herself. She was alive. That was good wasn’t it? As long as, she was alive she had hope. Things would not perhaps be ok anytime soon. But they might be in the future if she lived.

And fate’s hand though strange and possibly misshapen, had gifted her when it was her moment of direst need such a boon!

She had entered Purlbrights in the day. When all that could be found were Event Organisers checking the evening’s stock to do last minute evaluations and authentications. It was for them of course a pointless exercise, their buyers had nothing to worry their pretty little heads about. And come midnight all their purchases would be laid out, catalogued and wrapped ready for them to take home to bed. With just the exception of the more spicy of artefacts that were hidden away in the auction house for later.

So at noon when the clientele had thinned out for lunch time, she found herself almost alone except for Purlbright’s 2nd hand and the new lacky that she eyed curiously.

When she approached him for the soul purpose of engaging him in a little banter then sending him scurrying away on some foolish errand or goose chase. So she could distract him long enough for her to make her get away with some lovely loot. She had of course as you know if you’ve been paying attention to the story at all, found instead a one in a million? Not Juggler or Acrobat. No common Magician of Rock, Paper or Scissors, No flavour. In fact nobody that she herself would recognise at all. Leaving only one possibility open. It was just pure skill.

Whether he was some researcher of magic or a time traveller from the future. She simply had no idea. But as things were it didn’t really matter one bit. As long as she could snag him and put him in a sack like good old St Nick in reverse. Her already pounding heart had skipped a beat. Breaking its rhythm for one blissful moment in time. She simply must kidnap him.

What would she get for him? More than enough to free her measly brother a hundred times over and still have more than enough to live the life of her dreams.

The plan was simple lure him away from his home planet with the offer of a job that he would find tantalising. She was a master of origami after all, he was just paper between her deft fingers. Of course no way did she have 5k credits let alone 20k credits. But all she required was for him to go with her to the nearest Encoder gate. And she could deliver him fully packaged to the highest dealer.

Then things seemed to slide out of her grasp. Like so many filing pins falling in a never ending cascade of happen stance.

The first thing that went askew was of course that instead of dragging him from the store then and there on some random but surely clever pretext. She had bolted like a scared rabbit on seeing the eyes of that beast of a 2nd in command alight on her form. She wanted to go knock his hat off.

Then things had started to go right again. She had met him alone and took him to somewhere she thought might be private to ensnare him. But it was far from private it was a public house filled with chaos. Chaos that she was ill prepared for. It was like she had turned up to an interview and didn’t even know what the job was. She had not sufficiently familiarised herself with the planet Earth. Clearly. And had only taken a quick Quadlingo language course for 2 credits. Well it only had one line in the wickedpedia: Earth – mostly charmless. So how was she to know it was such a hub of activity?

It had been long thought that Purlbright had stationed their business there due to its back water-ness. Maybe Purlbright had just affected the local economy by their mere illustrious presence. It certainly seemed so.

The public house they had entered had light ales on tap for goodness sake! Affinity enhancing drinks available at seemingly reasonable prices for the masses? What on Earth to quote the phrase was going on!?

Having been unable to not notice the unnatural mannerisms of entities in the pub. She had asked the one going by the name of Jack, whether his friends were human or not. He after some deliberation stated that “they could be on occasion” giving the impression that they were perhaps Paper like herself and fooling people for a time. Then she followed up by asking were they paperboys to clarify his statement. The one called Jarvis piped up that he had been when he was eleven for pocket money. At which point all of them looked at him strangely in unison. They all were no doubt thinking the same. Why would someone stop using your god given form? Why hide it? And if so who was after him? Or had it been lost! The thought of losing such a gift sent a shudder down her already tremulous spine.

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Rock, Paper, Scissors those were the main forms that Magicians had. There were rumours of course of some having such things as rubber or glass but she would not believe such things without the proof of her own highly developed senses. Thank you very much.

Rock allowed for defensive styles to be employed, Paper allowed for a riposte to this by use of mental attacks. Although not all Paper had access to these styles it depended entirely on the flavour of your form. Lastly came Scissors an almost purely offensive group of styles.

So Paper can beat Rock which can beat Scissors and then of course Scissors can beat Paper.

Which is why no team can sensibly go about its business without having a full complement of forms.

As they say though the devil is in the detail as there is also the factor of Flavours. Flavours determine the nuance of the styles. Of which there are many but importantly all Magicians keep the knowledge of which theirs is closely guarded secret where ever practically possible.

Her own Paper form had the flavour of Bubblegum. Where she could use a single style of illusion, just as the wrapper of a Bubblegum would have a single printed form thus giving a single form. Of course the ideal was to have a plain sheet of Paper to work your illusions upon. But this was just fanciful thinking Misha felt. Perfection did not exist. And as such in life it was the maximising of the imperfections you had that caused you to win or lose. The closest that had been heard of to plain Paper was Vanilla Ice-cream, which unlike its namesake was anything but mundane. It was said the Paper form was as clear as the wafers holding a slab of Vanilla Ice-cream in place. But tragically just as fragile, leading the illusions to only last for very short periods of time before being dispelled.

However it was essential for an agent also to have a knowledge of all the basic flavours, in order to maximise teamwork with others, when on a job.

The labelling of Rock flavours required little finesse like the users themselves they were the thugs of the Magician-ing stage. A common flavour was Coconut which gave the user one of the strongest defences while allowing them free movement like the milk inside the hard husk of the nut. Pumpkin though rare, she was also familiar with. It had a fairly good defence but what really made it stand out was the double shielding effect the practitioner gained when using it. And also in her opinion, as with Paper, the double edged sword of illusion. As just when an opponent thought they had beaten through your defence they would be faced with yet another layer. A layer that was made of tiny multiple shields – seeds that could be manipulated to protect vital areas. She knew this as her brother was a Pumpkin.

There were also often whisperings of enhanced flavours though, as rare combinations existed. The most sort after and well known being the infamous - Chocolate. For it utilised not just one but two forms. That of Paper and of Scissors. A chocolate wrapped in silver foil. The foil could be used for writing on and would not fade – the Paper. Also the foil was a metal usually aluminium, light weight and malleable, ideal for a thief on a heist – the Scissors. Chocolates were in such great demand that they could charge anything up to 30% of the total coinage for a job. With a Chocolate you often needed no one else. Except for maybe a Contortionist, to get you in and out.

There were other things that would help any team: knowing the schooling of your fellow teammates, their certification and what they kept under their hat. Of course most Magicians just kept that under their hat, unfortunately. She herself was yet to acquire her first hat. And as the night had proceeded she could only see such things as the purest of speculation at this point.

But enough of that back to her successes and failures. She had listened to the potential paperboys as they sung a melody of praise to Jack, a sort of ode. Telling of further talents that he had. Apparently he had not only a skill of the light affinity as deduced from the prevalence of light ales as mentioned previously. But also they spoke of him “believing he could fly” and “touching the sky” alluding to a wind or air affinity.

She remain deep in thought for sometime after that just partaking of the strange beverages and bar snacks until she realised the night was passing by. It was then that she used her style of Bubblegum to through up a sound bubble blocking their conversation from outsiders.

Things had all been going well until that is Jack asked about acquiring a very popular artefact when all hell broke loose. Or rather she was busted by Purlbright’s personal security personnel.

Now she was awaiting the customer services representative – a fortune teller.

Her chances of making it through the night were indeed slim.

As she was unceremoniously dragged into the tent, she found herself surrounded by an eclectic collection of trinkets and treasures, each one carefully placed to enhance the mystical ambiance. Tarot cards were scattered haphazardly on a worn wooden table, while mysterious symbols and sigils adorned the walls in a dizzying array of patterns.

The fortune teller herself stood at the center of the room, a striking figure with piercing eyes and a knowing smile. Dressed in flowing fabrics and draped in beads and bangles, she exuded a sense of otherworldly wisdom and allure.

As she approached the fortune teller, Misha couldn't help but feel a sense of both excitement and trepidation. This was no ordinary moment, no mundane interaction – this was a journey into the realm of the unknown, a voyage through the captivating chaos of fate and fortune. And although it was really an interrogation of her very soul, she was still more than curious.

Then the woman stuck out her hand as is customary.

But she didn’t have any silver!

---- J A C K ----

Jack found he had not fallen asleep in his own bed after all. He had fallen that was for sure, many times in fact it seemed judging by the coverage of multi-coloured bruising that he had received. It was far too early, as is often the case but he sneaked a furtive look at the text messages on his phone as he had little recollection of the previous nights events.

There was one message. “You left your hat in the pub but don’t worry I have it. Can we arrange a place and time? Misha”

"Misha too" he thought chuckling madly to himself. Then he lay back in bed cradling the phone to his chest thinking “But I don’t have a hat”