Ante Up

@"Thirteen"

"Thank you. I'll look over there."

Felicity's day had been slow so far. It was almost noon, and she had stopped by the library to see if she could find some specific rare volumes. Searching through the near endless rows of books in the Harvard Library was difficult enough, and finding a specific version of a specific book was even harder. While not necessarily English literature, she was looking for a second edition copy of Dostoevsky's The Gambler. She wasn't actually sure where there was a version in English or French for the second edition, but she would settle with a Russian copy.

She didn't have any more classes today. This was her last year, in fact, and she would soon begin writing her Master's thesis on teaching, and then hopefully apply to some high school to get minor experience before applying for a college as a professor of English studies. Her bank account was filled, her life was pretty comfy, her house was paid off and her taxes were done. It seemed like such a far cry from fifteen years ago when she was doing petty cup and ball tricks to scam people out of five dollar bills. They never did pick the right cup.

Eventually, she found a copy. It wasn't second edition, but third, and it was in English. She decided it wasn't worth the trouble to try for anything better.

"Hey, Knight. What's up?" She hadn't noticed the man until she rounded the corner and picked up her eyes. It was Jonothan, one of her classmates, who was also going for his master's in education. Knight was a nickname she had accrued from some of her study circles- it was a play on her surname, of course, but also on her very heavy reliance on knights when she played chess with them. It was very common for her to try a Sicilian Defense, or a Ruy Lopez.. it made her a bit predictable to some people.

"I was just looking for a book. I'm about to go to the café to read. What are you doing?"

"Study time for me. I'll be here probably all night. I realized I know basically nothing about Pommerania circa 1066, so I'm going to go look out for some books about that. I'm not really sure how much I'll find, but it's worth a shot."

"That sounds dreadfully dull."

"Says the lady who reads fuckin' old broken English all day pretending it means something deep."

"Just go read about your dogs, already." Felicity laughed, knowing he would get offended. He put his hand on his forehead, and gave out a raspy sigh.

"Fine. When I come find you later, I want to see a new trick. Okay? The one where you made the card literally appear in a coffee cup that the barista had just given me was crazy enough. I want my perceptions challenged again."

Felicity grinned again, waving him off as she started walking again. A short walk later, she had arrived at the campus coffee shop, ordering herself some tea before claiming a small table and starting at page one of the book.

"...At length I returned from two weeks leave of absence to find that my patrons had arrived three days ago in Roulettenberg..."

Felicity didn't get past the first line before she was interrupted. To be honest, it annoyed her. When something like this happened, it felt like she had been getting bothered all day by something or other, even when in reality it had barely been anything at all. She looked up at Mr. Gelling, tapping a finger on the end of the line she had just read.

At first, she had thought it was one of the professors. There were many she didn't know, but did know her, so it happened on occasion. She hadn't recalled any such Mr. Gelling on the faculty, or in any other staff position, or being another student. Plus, it was a woman, and that's not what Mister meant. But it was a college, and some people had strange titles, so she didn't question it much.

While sometimes she was propositioned by men, or fans of her street magic, or other people, this woman didn't seem to register as any of those things. Her suspicion started to fire up, but instead she motioned towards the chair on the other side of the table.

"Absolutely, ma'am. I'm not particularly busy. Take a seat?"

Quite frankly, Felicity was not prepared for this. She could have expected many, many things, up to and including 'you're under arrest', but not this. In fact, it seemed kind of ridiculous. At first, she immediately thought it was a joke. Some new campus nonsense that tended to spread quickly.

She was about to say as much when the woman said the next line. That instantly put Felicity into full alert. This wasn't the police- it was something else, but she still wasn't really sure what. Her head raced as she tried to figure out something to do. Even so, her face remained completely neutral. Hard-fought stoicism over so much tribulation.

NY crime family? No, they don't operate like this. Maybe the LA one? They're too far away, they wouldn't come here. Italian? Maybe. It could have been one of her old accomplices, a few of them were still alive. But she had never used her real name or appearance for those jobs, and as far as they were concerned she had disappeared from existence after getting her cut. No, they wouldn't do this either if they managed to find her, they would just do some petty stab at her.

Then, she decided.

If this lady knew, then she had somehow saw past her disguises. It was probably prudent to leave. It was her initial instinct, and she could cry over this lost identity later.

Felicity stood up sharply, still having not said a word, toppled the table to its side, coffee, tea and all, then bolted out the door, taking a left out the door to begin sprinting towards the computer science department. She could ditch down an alley, change her face, then make her way to a bank to take out some of her money and ditch the city.

And if all else failed, she still had her gun.

While the net worked well, it was also aimed at the wrong target. Felicity had, almost immediately, split herself off, and the net mostly succeeded in dissipating one of her illusions; while that wouldn't have normally happened (it would have just reacted normally to the net) the magic was dispelled upon contact.

By this point Felicity had already ducked into an alley- the opposite one- and changed her face. Her features became a bit harder, a bit more rough, less pretty and more ordinary, with basic brunette shoulder-length hair. She'd even changed into one of the janitor's uniforms; if this lady didn't have any magic, then there was no way she would be found out. She'd skimmed even the most skilled forensics teams this way. But- the thought ran through her mind idly, if she had been telling the truth and she really was some sort of supernatural being.. or knew how to deal with them.. then maybe she wasn't so safe. She ran faster just in case. She didn't know how to avoid magic. She was probably screwed if it was actually that.

Would a gun even work on a magical person? She had been shot once, but it wasn't even close to being fatal. She didn't want to shoot anyone anyway, and she wouldn't. It was more for deterrence than anything else.

She stopped suddenly, looking around desperately. This alley was a dead end. There was a ladder, though it was a fire escape, and she had to get a running start to hop up the wall and grab onto the bottom. She started climbing.

Felicity was fast. There were lots of things she had outrun, and while her magic was part of the reason, it was also because she was well trained in her profession. She was actually headed straight for the roof, since she could just do a thin invisibility cloak and then sprint her way down the street much faster than trying to avoid people. When she reached the roof, however, she realized she must have been slow, or something; it was surprising enough that she had been found, but not inconceivable.

Regardless, her one escape route was blocked by this woman. Behind her was a pretty significant fall, and even if she could survive it, she'd have to limp her way to safety and that was clearly impossible at the moment. If she could find her, then maybe her magic wasn't working right. She didn't know what else to try.

Instead, she fumbled in her jacket, pulling out a handgun. It was a sleek Beretta M9 that she kept concealed by her magic, since otherwise it would have been a bit too large and bulky to keep in slacks or a skirt. Honestly, it was one of her prized possessions- she had never actually shot anyone with it, though she had certainly shot at people with it, and the presence of it alone had saved her on more than one occasion. Plus, it had been a gift from a particular man she had enjoyed the company of back during her affiliation with a Montréal crime syndicate in her early 20s. Alaire? No- Simone.

She hefted it, clicking the safety off in one easy motion as she leveled it at the woman. She had no intention of going anywhere with any person.

"Just leave me alone, and you won't hear about me again. I don't want to go anywhere."