50 for the angsty asks! JJ and Marvin please!
“It’s probably just a rat. You really don’t have to go check it out, Mr. Jackson.”
“Thank you for the advice, Darla, but my mind is made up.”
“Well, alright then. Be careful.”
This was one of the oldest theatres in town. And because of that, it had a winding maze of a prop storage room. There were so many materials and old sets stored here that it made navigation basically impossible. Still, Jameson decided to check it out when the noises started. His stage manager was insistent on the rat angle, but JJ had subtly sent a spell for seeking human souls out into the prop room. And there was one there, even when no crew was inside. He wondered what they were doing in there. If they needed help.
The industrial lights overhead should have been enough for him to see anyone coming, even as he headed deeper into the maze. But somehow, he didn’t notice the man standing off to the side of the aisle until something solid hit him hard in the forehead. “Ack!” He staggered backwards with the force. “What the—?”
He glanced around, barely ducking out of the way when he saw something coming for his head once again. He ran a few steps away before turning around to see who was attacking him. “Calm down! I don’t want any trouble!” JJ raised his empty hands as a show of peace.
The man had been swinging a cane at him, and was holding it over his shoulder in preparation for another go in case Jameson got any closer. And the man was dressed…oddly. It was the middle of summer, but he was wearing more formal clothes, complete with vest and jacket. His brown hair was ruffled in the way hair is when it was styled, but then mussed up again. Most concerning, there were two thin streams of blood dripping from his turquoise-blue eyes. “Who are you?” He demanded. “Where am I?”
“My name is Jameson Jackson,” JJ explained patiently. “And you’re in a theatre. The Jewett Theatre, to be exact.”
“Excuse me?” The man lowered the cane just a fraction. “T’at is no’ possible.” He looked around. “I’ h’ve been t’the Jewett, t’ere’s not t’is many baubles in it.”
“Well, how long has it been since you’ve been here?” JJ asked gently. “They’ve probably just added some items.”
The man turned in circles for a bit, looking around. “Quite a few, if ye’re tellin’ the truth. But t’at’s assumin’ y’are!” He snapped back to attention, now holding his cane in a different position.
“Of course I am! I’m sorry, I don’t know how you got here, and…well, it seems neither do you.” JJ thought it out a little bit. “Would you like to tell me your name? It also doesn’t sound like you’re from around here.”
“My-my name?” For a moment, the man looked confused, the cane lowering to the ground. It wasn’t ‘confused’ like he wasn’t sure why the question was coming up, but more like he didn’t know the answer. After a few moments, the cloud of confusion lifted. “Me name is Marvin. Marvin Moore. ‘M not from here orig’nally, but if ye’re not lyin’ about where we are, t’en ‘ve lived here for some time.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Marvin,” JJ said cheerfully. “It…it looks like you’re in a bit of a spot. What with the eyes and all that.”
“Eyes…?” Marvin’s hand suddenly shot up to his face, his fingers dipping into the blood, which he looked at curiously. “I dunnae where t’is came from. My apologies.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, using it to wipe away the blood.
“No no, it’s alright, it’s not your fault,” JJ hurried to say. “Would you like me to call someone for you? Like, the police?”
Marvin looked confused again. “Call…? Y’can telephone the police if ye t’ink it’s needed.”
“Alright. I’ll do that right now.” Jameson dug around in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.
“What is t’at?” Marvin leaned forward, intrigued.
“…my phone?” Jameson explained.
Marvin laughed. “Ye’re havin’ a laugh. I may have a gimpy walk, but ‘m no fool. T’at’s not a telephone.”
“What do you…? I mean, it can be much more than a phone, if I need it to be.” As a demonstration, JJ turned on the flashlight.
“Aack!” Marvin yelped, jumping backwards. “How did’y do t’at t’ere’s n’way t’s poss’ble ye a wizard ‘r the like?!”
Jameson blinked. “I’m sorry I…didn’t quite catch that. It was a bit fast. But did you ask if I’m a wizard? I mean, no, I’m a magician, wizard is a type of which, but…that’s not related to me turning on a flashlight.” JJ gave Marvin another once-over. Now that he was looking closer, his formal clothes seemed a bit…old fashioned. “What year is it?”
Marvin sighed. “Testin’ me, I see. I said ‘m no fool. Th’year is 1928.”
Jameson gaped. “We…have a lot to talk about.”