#ruby sees all

cause’ when the seaweed sinks and the sun gets low/ when the waves retire to the darkness below/ whoa I know/ ruby sees all

At first Shades thought Justin was pulling his leg about the mysterious shop, but Max was no good at these sort of bluffs, and kept corroborating every word of it. Yet here it was, just as Justin said, basement entrance and all. The ‘new location’ sign leaving Shades wondering how any locals might react to questions about this place, let alone noticing it themselves, and he decided it was probably wiser not to even mention it unless they brought it up first. As they descended the steps, he noted the slogan underneath the store name. For not all who wander are lost. Inside, it was very much how he imagined the place would be, based on how Justin and Max described it to him along the way, with its candle- and lantern-lit interior, and incense-laced collection of almost-familiar scents. Much like the antique and second-hand stores his mother was always fond of stopping by on road trips, and which he was always inclined to lose himself in. Except that in this dimension, he could easily picture a store like this hosting an entire season of The Twilight Zone. Among the assortment of intriguing odds and ends, each of which he suspected had a tale or two to go with, a few pieces stood out to him. A bundle of what looked like five sticks wrapped in bandage. A very authentic-looking dreamcatcher. A spooky-looking old-fashioned tube radio, which he half expected to spontaneously tune in to any of the creepier things he’d heard on the airwaves in his time in this world. Most of the books on the nearest shelf were printed in languages he’d never seen before, but a couple he could read included Necromancy For Dummies and The Black Arts On Trial. That blazing power from before was gone, but a few trailing embers of that fire tagged along, some lingering trace of that awakening following him into this little shop of wonders, illuminating things he was sure he shouldn’t rightly know about some of these items, as if they were whispering bits and pieces of their stories in his ear. Inside the glass counter, under a pale light bulb, was a compact, snub-barreled revolver with a yin-yang symbol engraved on its hand grip, just below the cylinder. A box sealed with paper strips inscribed with unfamiliar characters. Near it sat a Buddha-esque figure carved of some green stone. As well as a gold-capped vial of what looked suspiciously like blood. Up on the wall, next to a couple masks that would have been right at home on the set of some old pulp adventure movie, he spotted an electric guitar, very classic-looking, but bearing no manufacturer name. Found he could picture himself picking it up, and spontaneously being able to play it like a rock star. Busting out Chuck Berry licks and power chords and wild shredding on a whim, and unsure if he’d actually be able to stop… If he was playing it, or it was playing him. His half-dream, half-nightmare came to a grinding halt as his eyes drifted over to a rag-clad skeleton puppet, missing one eye, its jaw hanging askew at an angle that he found inexplicably unsettling. Just couldn’t shake this feeling he’d seen this thing before somewhere. On TV, perhaps, from some low-budget children’s show, and wondered how an object that could make a grown adult shudder ever got past the show’s executives, picturing children huddled in the corners of their living rooms, their parents completely oblivious… “Seen him before, have you?” an aged, raspy voice chimed in. “Mostly harmless he is, without a voice…” “Ummm…” Shades snapped his head back toward the counter, where now stood the sage old shopkeep his friends described earlier, materialized while he wasn’t looking, and again just about as he’d pictured. “I’m not sure…” Even Max and Justin didn’t seem to like the look of that puppet, going by their expressions, when they saw what he was talking about. “So, these must be the friends you spoke of before, young mariner?” The question clearly addressed to Justin, and Shades was relieved for the change of subject. “Pleased to meet you, I am.” “Likewise,” Shades replied. I think… “It’s good to see you again, as well,” Max said, though his words sounded less confident than usual. For his part, Shades wasn’t entirely sure he believed they were even having this conversation. It felt so much like something out of some old folktale, and he again wondered just how many strange stories started or ended at this counter. If there was anything he felt terribly sure of about any of this, it was that this thing they found in Vineholdt was probably safer with this fellow than it would be much of anywhere else. “So, come to browse some more,” the mysterious shopkeep enquired, “or have you something else in mind?” “As a matter of fact, we do,” Justin told him, fishing out the amulet from his pocket and placing it on the counter. “If I remember right, you said you buy as well as sell. Let me tell you, this thing is all kinds of weird. Found it in a haunted house, too, while we were at it. I’m sure it’ll fit in just fine with the rest of your collection of forbidden stuff.” While none of them were thrilled to find another of these amulets, they all agreed to take advantage of it anyway. After all, even if they had the money, none of them could imagine any local merchant in Pickford buying anything they found in that house. More likely shove them out the door and slam it in their faces. “Perhaps…” the shopkeep intoned, producing a jeweler’s loupe and scrutinizing the jade disc under a cone of yellow light. “The genuine article, you have, lost for many centuries…” “You know what this is?” Max asked. “Yes, belonged to an ancient emperor it did, one obsessed with immortality…” Shades found his mind wandering, right when he would usually be at his most attentive. Felt light as a feather, as if his feet barely touched the ground. As he sometimes felt after a long run. Or perhaps after swimming, as if he was wading through a shallow pool, and could just kick off the floor and glide across the room with a spread of his arms, and he was pretty sure he knew why. Up in the Castle, he had somehow called upon the battle-fire in the waking world, and it left him feeling drained. At first only a little, as he was still mainlining adrenaline during his harrowing experiences and narrow escape, as well as the aftermath back at the house, but now he was starting to feel it. Along the way, he had attempted to rekindle that flame, only to find that no matter how hard he concentrated, he could no longer summon the fire within. As if it was something that existed only in that place and time. Justin elbow-nudged him, saying, “Isn’t that right? You wouldn’t be surprised at all if there turned out to be a third one of these things, would you?” “No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” Shades mumbled, surprised that Justin even remembered what he told of that tattered journal he found on the island where they found the gold amulet. From the looks of it, the deal was already finalized, and he missed it. He took some relief from the fact that he at least had the presence of mind earlier to use the pencil and notepad he borrowed from Roger for shopping around earlier to make a rubbing of both sides of the amulet for his own records, as he would not be terribly surprised if they ever stumbled across a third of its like. After seeing this one, Shades almost wished he’d thought to snag one of those photos he’d seen of the other one on that haunted island. Almost. Even so, he was still pretty sure it was a nearly identical design. Still couldn’t believe Justin had found a place like this back in Centralict and resisted the urge to tell about it. From what he gathered, they just sold the jade disc for the lucrative sum of forty thousand credits, easily enough to get them back on their feet. Much to Justin’s disappointment— though about as Shades expected— the shopkeep showed no particular interest in the rest of the Rigby jewels, but they were all fairly confident they could find some buyers upshore. Max and Justin both fairly beaming at the prospect of acquiring a ship of their own once again. “Fare you well, travelers,” the shopkeep called after them as they headed for the door, and Max waved back at him. “May you ever find what you seek. Always open, my shop is.” On the way out, Shades paused in mid step, spotting a bulky, squarish machine next to the door. Judging from the looks on their faces, he was pretty sure neither of his friends had seen it, either, on their first visit. Given the nature of this sort of shop, he figured he should have seen it coming as he gazed upon an old-fashioned fortune-telling machine. Bronze-strapped wood panels, framing a smoky glass window, looking in on the figure of an old woman wearing a crimson shawl, gold hoop earrings, and a dark blue blouse. Wizened face shrouded in shadows. Flesh-toned mechanical hands hovered over a dusty crystal ball, clutching thin air. Red curtains draped both sides of the box’s interior, lending it the intimacy of an enclosed booth. Printed across the top of the machine, in lettering that reminded Shades of a dozen carnivals, the legend read: Ruby Sees All. They all turned back to the shopkeep in near-perfect unison, and he just shrugged at them with a patient smile. Next to the machine was a floating table with two bowls; one containing a pile of identical brass tokens, the other an assortment of coin from different realms. Seeing no specific price listed anywhere, Shades dropped a couple credit coins in one bowl and took a token from the other, inserting it in the slot on the front of the machine as his friends watched. The machine lit up, swirling lights playing inside the crystal ball, Ruby’s eyes glowing bright red, mouth flapping to the sounds of distorted mumbling. A roll of eerie, pre-phonographic music that wouldn’t have sounded out of place being played on a pipe organ started up. Herky-jerky hands waving around the crystal ball, and in spite of himself, he found he could make out vague images in those swirling lights and colors. Glimpses of mountains, a desert, ghost towns… Then the lights died down, the music ground to a halt, and that groaning mumble stopped, followed by a yellowed strip of ticker-tape spit out of a slot next to the token intake. Shades hesitated for a long moment before reaching for it. He had seen enough of these sort of things at fairs and circuses to know that they typically pumped out generic, fortune-cookie-cutter predictions and proverbs. But here, in a shop like this, he suspected this one might be a little bit different. At last, he looked at his fortune, seeing two words: hashbrowns and eighty-six. He blinked at those words, only to see that they had changed. Now it read: ASHTON 86. Instantly calling to mind a vivid image of a green road sign against an impossibly blue sky, sand stretching past the horizon in all directions… After a moment, he stepped back to let his friends give it a try, and Max stepped up next, paying his credits and inserting his token. As the crystal ball lit up again, and Ruby repeated her robotic ritual, Shades looked into the lights and saw, even at a distance, a moonlit beach, and the shadowy figure of young woman stumbling along past the half-buried wreck of some small boat, sticking out of the sand… As the lightshow died down, Max took his fortune, containing two words: paradise found, and he stepped back from the machine, a puzzled look settling on his face. Then Justin took his turn, hesitating for a moment before committing himself to matching their credits, then plunked in his token. This time, the lights showed Shades the decks and corridors of a passenger ship, ending with a scene at a pier somewhere, of a sad, apprehensive man herding an anxious little girl over to a kindly, yet concerned, man who took her aboard the ship docked there, as the first man turned back to town with a grim, determined look in his eyes… Shades gasped as he realized he recognized both the girl, and her doomed father, from portraits he had seen inside the Castle. Only now did it occur to him to question if he should really be peering into these vignettes, which all showed scenes he suspected were of personal significance to the fortune-seeker. Wondering if his friends were even seeing any of this, and concluding that it was probably too personal to ask about anyway, as Justin reached out and took his ticker-tape. This one reading: Eleanor Skerry. “I knew it…” Justin said, more to himself than anyone else. Each of them folded their strip of paper and tucked it away in one pocket or another, leaving each with something to think about as they filed out of the store and back up the steps into the sunlit world above. For his part, the shopkeep simply watched them leave in bemused, contemplative silence.

Cake  -  Ruby Sees All  (Motorcade of Generosity 1994)

My Favorite Sets made By Myself (4) by valeria-reyna ❤ liked on polyvore.com

My Favorite Sets made By Myself (4) by valeria-reyna ❤ liked on polyvore.com

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