Chapter 4
And The Winner of The Look-a-Like Contest Is…
"Ladies! Time to party!" Victor's booming voice echoed up the stairs to the second floor of the book shop, interrupting their discussion of the musical that Darlene was helping to do hair and makeup work for and that Lexi would be dancing in.
"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on," Darlene yelled back.
"Is that an order from the lesbian or a request from the two blushing maidens you have held in thrall up there?"
"That is indeed an order from the lesbian revolutionary ringleader, Vic!" Darlene shouted back in good humor. "A non-negotiable order! No one up here is interested in seeing what you've got hiding down below."
Argyria and Lexi began giggling and followed the more boisterous brunette back down the stairs.
"I think you're just afraid that Lexi might take one look and decide she's not as gay as you've convinced her she is," Victor teased as the girls came into view.
"Pfft. I've got plenty of toys to keep my girl happy," Darlene replied confidently. "I'd bet anything they're more impressive than what you've got to work with."
"Alrighty then!" Argyria replied, blushing almost as brightly as Lexi. "That's more than I wanted to know about the bedroom activities of my two best friends. Thank you, Darlene, for traumatizing my virgin ears, and I beg you not to do anything that will prove or disprove her on that, Vic."
"Anytime, darling," Darlene said, entirely unabashed.
"I had no intention of doing so with the succubus about," Victor jested with grin. "I'd be too afraid of losing my proof and it being stuck with the rest of her collection from her victims."
"I'd give you the honor of being front and center as you are such a good friend," Darlene offered pleasantly.
"You're incorrigible, Darlene," Lexi said with a shake of her head.
"And you love me for it."
"I love you despite it," Lexi countered with a teasing smirk.
"Oh, so mean." Darlene gave a wink. "You're going to pay for that later."
"Ugh, go back on upstairs if you two are going to start," Victor said. "And get 'Geny's camera set up before you get all hot and heavy."
"Pig!" Darlene gave him a solid punch on the shoulder, causing the bigger young man to chuckle.
"Hey, you started it with the comments of keeping pants on and toys," Victor replied. "Don't be a huffy hypocrite when I say comments in return."
Darlene glared at Victor half-heartedly and lead the way back to the front of the store.
Victor stepped behind Argyria and covered her eyes with one of his large hands.
"No ya don't! No peeking, Ria!" Victor said when Argyria tried to pull away. "I promise I won't let you run into anything, but you can't look until we're up front."
Argyria was insatiably curious to see the decorations as soon as possible. She had heard the bells for the front door chime several times from upstairs. She could assume her friends had gone back outside to retrieve even more decorations, and it had been eating away at her to not go dashing downstairs to see what all the hushed mumbling and directions were about. If Lexi and Darlene hadn't kept up the conversation and been on the watch for just such a move, she might very well have.
Argyria finally conceded defeat when Victor continued to thwart her attempts to get away. "Yeah, yeah! Fine, you win, Vic! Let's just get moving!"
Argyria's friends laughed and Victor placed his other hand on her shoulder to guide her through the twisting maze of closely packed bookcases. When they drew closer to the front of the store, which was going at an impossibly slow crawl for such a relatively small area to traverse, Lexi and Darlene started making gasps and noises of pleased surprise, all of which was aimed to build suspense and attempt to drive Argyria crazy with curiosity.
It was a successful ploy. Argyria tried again to peep out from behind Victor's hand, but he shifted with her to stop the attempts.
"Ah, ah, ah, Ria," Victor chastised as he continued leading Argyria forward. "Almost there. You can wait ten more seconds."
"Ten, nine, eight," Argyria started to count down sarcastically. Her friends laughed again and Victor quickened their pace to make it to the front before the count was over.
"Seven, six, five," Argyria continued the count, her voice reflecting her excitement.
"Might need fifteen seconds, on second thought," Victor interrupted playfully.
"Nope, you said ten, you get ten," Argyria retorted. "Four, three, two…" Victor came to a stop, halting Argyria.
"One!" Victor said with her, uncovering her eyes.
Argyria gasped in amazement as her gaze darted around the store, quickly following it with a pleased squeal and laughter as she saw the decorations.
There were the expected balloons and streamers, of course. But there was also dozens upon dozens of glittery little 3D crepe fairies, the kind bought at party stories that start off flat and then unfold out, hanging from various lengths of string from the ceiling and drawing attention first. Little 'crystal' balls likewise hung at various intervals, with plastic fantasy creatures suspended inside like some conjuration to view them.
A massive red dragon automaton was perched on one of the biggest bookshelves, and was slowly flapping its wings and glaring balefully down from its perch, an LED light flaring brightly as it opened its sharply fanged mouth and a small 'flame' erupted. A similar automated griffin was perched on the counter, flapping its wings and opening its beak. A Pegasus was by the door, swishing its tail, head lowering and raising, and moving its white feathered wings.
Life size cardboard cutouts of several of the Dragonlance characters were placed around the shop. Sturm Brightblade was bravely facing the red dragon, resplendent in his ancient armor of his forefathers, moustache-ed face twisted in a fierce battle yell as he lifted his sword to strike down the evil minion of darkness.
Tasslehoff and Flint were positioned by the griffon. The diminutive kender with his cheerful grin, bulging pouches, and bright blue leggings, hoopak in one hand as he pointed at the griffon with the other. The dwarf was facing the kender with his usual surly frown, though a gentler expression could be noted in his eyes, as he stood with his feet wide, hands on his round belly, battle ax slung over his shoulder. From the placement, it looked like Tas was excitedly rambling about the griffin and Flint was telling the fool kender that he was swearing by Reorx's beard that there was no way he could be convinced to ride that strange beast.
Laurana, the golden haired elf maiden and princess, bedecked in her finely wrought elven armor, a serene expression on her delicate face, was positioned next to the snowy white pegasus as though about to ride the magnificent beast fit for a princess's mount. Tanis stood on the other side of the flying horse, dressed in his favored earthy toned ranger outfit, bow slung over his shoulder and sword at his hip, looking at the pure-spirited beast contemplatively, like it held all the answers to his queries of the world.
Otik, owner of the Inn of the Last Home, with his cleanly pressed apron and chubby smiling face, was positioned by a small card table set out to hold snacks. The innkeeper himself was holding a steaming platter of his famous spiced potatoes, leaving no doubt to who he was. Tika, barmaid turned brawler, was looking slightly out of place where she was positioned as she was wearing her mismatched armor from after she joined the companions. The spirited and busty redhead was standing to the other side of the table, borrowed sword and shield at the ready, looking ready to clobber any who came near the table. Which might be an action actually called for as her future husband, Caramon Majere, was placed between Otik and Tika, between the table and the wall, with his genial and open smile, the cutout placed in a good position to devour everything in sight before any others could sneak a bite.
The small round table that usually held the newest acquired New York Times Best Sellers on little stands had been cleared of its customary wares and was now holding a small pile of brightly wrapped birthday presents and bags. And the red-robed Raistlin was posted as honor guard for the soon-to-be-discovered treasures, glittering golden eyes narrowed threateningly, Staff of Magius at the ready in one hand, the other hand pointed out with magic flickering at his curled fingertips.
"Gods above!" Argyria cried. "This is… it's…" The young woman couldn't find the words to describe her delight in the decorations, causing laughter from all present.
"Fantastical?" Maggie offered, pleased grin on her face.
"Mystifying?" Ivan seconded.
"A pain in the ass to set up?" Brian joked, causing more laughter.
"Absolutely perfect," Argyria finally said, silvery-grey gaze still darting between all the decorations, unable to stop staring in enraptured joy.
"Glad you like them," Victor said with a chuckle, ruffling the young woman's hair. For once, Argyria didn't protest, too stunned and pleased by the surprise.
"We figure safe bet you would like theme, mladshaya syestra," Yevgeny added with a wink.
"Like it?" Argyria exclaimed. "I love it, big brother! Where did you find the automatons? For that matter, where did you find the characters?!"
"That would be telling, little Ria," Ivan said mysteriously, a Cheshire cat grin forming.
Argyria made her way to the presents table, her own smile growing until she thought her face must surely crack, as she glanced between the presents and the mage guarding them. She was torn between curiosity to open the presents and wanting to further examine the many details added to the character she obsessively drew. She had been fairly certain she had seen just about every worthwhile depiction ever drawn of Raistlin, but this cutout was a new picture she hadn't seen. Before she could decide on either course though, Evan called out-
"Heya, Ria? How about we have a bite to eat before you go opening presents or making out with the cutout?"
Argyria blushed brightly and turned around to glare indignantly at the laughing Evan. "I was not going to make out with it! I was looking at the details of the artwork!"
The young woman's response caused yet more good-natured laughter and she did as suggested, joining the others to load up a plate with food and crack open bottles of soda.
As Argyria joined Lexi and Darlene on the little couch that had been carried out, a fair bit cramped on the narrow seat but making due, Evan came up behind her and set a plastic costume tiara on her head.
"Birthday girl needs a party hat," Evan declared with a grin, balancing his plate of food with his other hand.
Argyria giggled in amusement and readjusted the tiara to sit evenly on her head, ignoring Darlene's muttered comment of stereotypical princess girl roles. Maggie and Victor sat on stools behind the griffon protected counter. Yevgeny and Ivan perched on the counter itself to either side of the chimera like beast, flipping the switch to turn the movement off so they could eat in peace without needing to make offerings to the ravenous griffin. Evan and Brian grabbed chairs from the same reading area the couch had been pulled from and had them positioned between rows of bookcases, slightly out of the way of the main gathering.
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Evan was the first to finish his plate of snacks, the slender track runner having an appetite that belied his stature, and went back to the food table for more. He grabbed a handful of chips and held them up to the cardboard warrior, Caramon.
"Heya, big guy," Evan said cheerfully. "I challenge you to an eating contest! Inn tab is on the loser!" And with that, he stuffed the chips in his mouth, causing everyone to laugh. Lexi choked on her soda in the process, and Darlene slapped her back a few times to help stop the coughing.
"I think that might be one eating contest you'd lose, little brother," Brian said, removing his glasses and wiping tears from his eyes that had sprung up from laughing so hard.
"Drinking against the big man, yes. I've never touched alcohol, never mind anything resembling Dwarf Spirits," Evan agreed candidly, loading his plate with chips, cookies, and potato salad. "Eating, I think I stand a fair chance."
"Just make sure you save room for the birthday cake!" Maggie called from her spot behind the counter.
"Oh, there's always room for birthday cake," Evan assured her, entirely unconcerned.
"You're going to regret eating like that someday if you ever quit track," Brian commented. "You'll end up as wide as you are tall."
"Well then, I guess I'll just have to keep up with my running regimen, even post-college. I've seen how that looks with dad and it isn't appealing."
As Evan settled himself back into his chair, the front door opened with the bell chiming, heralding the arrival of someone. All nine pairs of eyes glanced over at the door in surprise, as all party goers expected were present.
An old man came in, with a cheerful smile visible behind his closely cropped white beard. He was dressed in a dapper beige and brown tweed suit. However, his dress shirt looked almost as aged and wrinkled as his face. He leaned slightly on a plain wooden cane and bobbed his head in greeting to those seated. "I say! Hello! What a quaint little bookshop and café this is!" He gestured to the decorations with his cane, leading baffled gazes to the automatons and cutouts. "A bit crowded don't you think, though? Might've gone a different way. Leave the customers some room to browse about, I say! Can't make a sale when they can't reach the merchandise!"
The old man gave all of them a reproving look, as though expecting them to drop their food and hop up to move the offending decorations immediately.
Maggie collected herself first from surprise of the unexpected arrival and the critique of her store. "This is in fact a bookshop, sir, but not a café," she said, not unkindly, standing up and setting aside her plate. "And I'm actually closed for business right now. The decorations and refreshments were placed for a private birthday party we're having…"
"A birthday party, you say?!" the old man interrupted with a jovial grin. "How nice! I do love a party! Well I suppose all these trappings are necessary for a thumping good party then!"
Amused and questioning glances were exchanged between the party-goers, wondering how to shoo off the old man from the private gathering without being terribly rude to an elder who wasn't being particularly rude himself, just obtuse.
"They are indeed helping with the celebrations. Was there something you needed, grandfather?" Ivan asked politely from where he sat on the counter. "Otherwise, as our dear Maggie said, the shop is supposed to be closed for business for the evening."
"Needed?" The old man's face crinkled in thought. "Did I need something?" His face brightened quickly, blue eyes twinkling merrily. "No, I didn't need anything. I was walking past and saw the charming window displays," he pointed with his cane to the mentioned fantasy displays, "and saw all the lights on and people gathered," he gestured about the room, "and thought this must be, as you young people say, 'a hip and happening' spot and thought I would take a gander before continuing on my way."
Brian snorted with laughter, nearly choking himself on a chip as he tried to contain his amusement, when the old man said 'hip and happening,' which was an extremely dated term.
"I say, are you alright, boy?" the old man asked solicitously. "Not choking on dinner, are you? You should really try to eat slower. I'm a bit old to be trying the Heimlich."
"No. No need. I'm good." Brian composed himself, exchanging an amused look with Evan.
"So now, I believe the lovely blonde lady, behind the rather tall fellas sitting rudely with their bottoms on the counter," the old man continued amicably, though his gaze was reproving as it fell on Ivan and Yevgeny, causing the two to exchange glances. The old man switched tracks of thought mid-sentence, "I say, you two look a bit alike when you look at each other like that. Are you related?"
"We are twins," Yevgeny with a smirk. He was looking at the man as though he must be senile and did not leave his seat on the counter, as his brother had, despite the chastising.
"Twins you say?" The old man cocked his head to one side, looking at them both. "Hm… There's a bit of resemblance. I would have gone with cousins, though, if I were to guess. Are you sure you're twins?"
Just about everyone was now looking at the old man as though he was senile.
"I'm pretty sure they, of all people, would know their relation," Darlene said with her usual sassy attitude.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? I suppose there are plenty of twins who look less alike, so you may be right," the old man agreed seriously, missing the sarcasm. "Now, I was saying something, wasn't I? What was I saying?" His wrinkled face was once more scrunched in thought and he tapped his cane on the floor once in irritation. "Damned young people interrupting their elders and making one lose their train of thought…"
Everyone present once more exchanged looks, some growing less amused and more exasperated, as the old man clearly had forgotten he had interrupted himself. Some- meaning Argyria, Alexandra, Brian and Evan- were growing more amused by the batty old man.
"You started to say something about Maggie," Lexi volunteered with an ill-concealed smile, gesturing to the Welsh shop owner.
"Was I?" the old man asked, clearly not recalling such.
Lexi and Argyria nodded in confirmation, Argyria having to actively work at not giggling. The old man thought a moment longer, then nodded back.
"So I was! Thank you, young lady!" the old man said, once more cheerful. "Nice to see some youngsters still have manners. Anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted…" The old man's gaze went back to Maggie. "You were saying something about a party? A birthday was it?"
Maggie nodded with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, I did say that."
"Yours, as you own the shop and the party is here?"
"No, it isn't my birthday," Maggie replied impassively, a belying smile twitching on her lips.
"It's Ria's birthday," Evan volunteered to hurry along the questioning and get the old man out the door, gesturing to the mentioned birthday girl. "Well, tomorrow, anyway. We're celebrating early."
"Ria?" The old man's gaze went to Argyria. He asked again, sounding perplexed, "Ria? Odd name that. Don't mean to offend, young lady, but not sure I have heard that name before."
"It's short for 'Argyria'," the young woman supplied, giggles starting to leak out despite her attempts to contain them. "It comes from the Greek word meaning 'silver'."
"No doubt for your eyes," the old man said jovially. "Such lovely eyes they are. Lovely name too. A bit old fashioned, perhaps. Better than 'Tiffany' or 'Britney' like so many these days, though, I say. Or those really corker names like 'Muffin' or 'Apple'. That's a food, not a female. Damned parents trying to be creative and just making people hungry. And I will assume you wear that plastic thing for your birthday, not because you're a long lost Greek princess?"
"Indeed, grandfather. It is only for my birthday," Argyria replied politely, giggles continuing with the old man's rant. Lexi was making matters worse by giggling as well, fueling each other into their giggle fit.
"Grandfather?" The old man looked perplexed again. "I think I would remember having a silvery eyed granddaughter to bounce on my knee as a little girl and tell stories to. Are you sure I'm your grandfather? Might be a great-uncle, or a great-great-uncle, or some such thing. My brother has reddish toned hair like yours, might be one of his. Serious fellow, though, never gets out much, so I don't know about that. He should get out more, if you ask me. If he traveled about more like I do, would help keep him fit and sharp."
Everyone except Ivan and Maggie were having difficulties keeping straight faces at that latter statement made by the rambling old man, and even their attempts were beginning to fail.
"I was only trying to be polite as Ivan was," Argyria said, still giggling. "And both of my grandfathers had black hair, so I don't think there is any relation to your brother."
"I see, I see. Perhaps not then," the old man said with a serious nod. "And how old are you turning, young lady? Not too old to be afraid to tell or be asked of your age, I'd wager."
"I'm turning 18," Argyria replied, trying to suppress her giggles better.
"Ah, 18. Look a little young for 18, but I suppose you must be telling the truth. Women fib about being younger than they are, not older. Good age 18 is, I say," the old man trailed off reflectively, nodding to himself as though lost in thoughts of his own youth.
The invited party guests were yet again exchanging looks, silently asking who should next make an attempt to make the befuddled old man take his leave.
The old man drew himself out of his contemplations before anyone could say anything, glancing around the shop again. "Such a quaint little shop..." His gaze fell on the red dragon perched on the bookshelf, eyes narrowing. He pointed with his cane, "That doesn't look very realistic, now does it? Belly is too fat and the tail too long. Those scrawny wings would never keep it in the air. Nasty thing those beasts are, though, I say. Good thing you have such a valiant knight ready to slay the misshapen beast to keep the princesses safe."
The old man's grousing elicited muffled giggles and laughter. He continued glancing around the shop, gaze falling on the pile of presents with their guardian mage.
"Ah, so it is a birthday party!" the old man exclaimed, as though he hadn't quite believed them before seeing the gifts. "And look at that! I say, that mage looks familiar… Now where have I seen him before?"
"Have you read the Dragonlance books?" Argyria asked in amusement.
"Dragonlance?" The old man turned back to the gathered party goers with a less befuddled look. "Dragonlance books, you say?"
Everyone present nodded.
The old man looked thoughtful, then shrugged with a shake of his head. "No, I don't believe I have."
Yevgeny began laughing right along with Victor, Brian and Evan. "Old man, entertaining this is," the leather clad Russian said, "however, this is private party and shop is close for over hour. Before evening become too dark to find way home, you might want to leave."
"Too dark to find my way home?" the old man asked indignantly. He humph-ed at that and pointed his cane at Yevgeny. "Indeed not, rapscallion. There's still a few more hours of daylight to find my way back by. I may be a bit slower than I used to be, but I'm not decrepit. Have a little more respect for your elders, young man, or I might have to give you a 'what's for' or two with my cane."
Yevgeny raised a dark eyebrow and took a sip of his root beer, giving it a look as though he wished it was a bottle of real beer instead.
"Anyway…" the old man continued. "As I did walk in on your party, I should be off. Lots to do and all." The old man looked around the room, as though searching for something. His gaze fell back on the birthday presents. "Ah, yes…"
The old man walked over to the table and, with a dramatic flourish, pulled a rectangular, brown-paper wrapped package from his jacket.
"I've been carrying this about for a while now and not found proper cause to use it or pass it along, but perhaps the birthday girl may," the old man said, more to himself, as he set the package down on the table. He turned back to Argyria, a small smile tugged at his lips as he met her silvery-grey gaze. "And a 'Happy Birthday' to you, young lady."
"Thank you…" Argyria said, no longer giggling, but glancing between the plain package and the old man suspiciously. An expression that had formed with the strangely familiar reaction the old man had to the mention of the name of the books. "You didn't say your name, Old One."
"Hm, I didn't?"
"No, you didn't," Argyria replied intently, attention not leaving him for so much as a split second.
"Oh, how rude of me! My name is… Ferdinand." The old man gave a nod of his head. He met Argyria's silvery gaze again and gave a small wink as he said in a befuddled tone, "Yes, that's my name, young lady. Ferdinand."
Lexi, Evan and Brian were once more trying to contain laughter.
Argyria stared at the old man with wide eyes, having to make an active effort to keep her jaw from dropping open in shock.
The old man didn't appear to notice any of the reactions to his behavior. He was staring at the cardboard protector of presents. "Now you there," he pointed at the painted Raistlin. "If you're any sort of proper mage at all, you'll keep those presents there under proper guard. Wouldn't hurt to guard the birthday girl as well. She seems a nice girl and I don't trust youngsters these days. You never know who might have thieving tendencies."
Affronted looks were exchanged by some of the aforementioned youngsters, and now Maggie was joining the others in trying not to laugh at the strange old man.
Argyria was recollecting herself, but before she could question the old man further, he was wandering back towards the front door, muttering to himself.
"Strange youngsters, I say… And so fresh with their elders some of them!" The old man shook his head and opened the front door. "No respect these days! Think they know everything! Ha! More foolish than the empty headed doorknob…"
The rest of the old man's words were cut off as the door closed behind him.
"You may not have found a cutout for him," Argyria said, staring in the direction the old man left and trying to make light of the impossibly crazy thought that had come to her mind, "but if that wasn't near to a real life Fizban, I don't think I've ever seen one who comes closer."
"He's just a cracked old coot is all," Evan said, the teenager obsessed with British terms from having watched too much Monty Python and Harry Potter. "Simply crackers."
"I don't know, little bro," Brian said, also staring at the door contemplatively. "Ria isn't too far off. Toss some rumpled robes on the whitebeard, keep the razors from him for a few months, trade the cane for a staff, and we might have a winner in the first annual Krynn look-and-act-a-like contest."
"Would also need a perpetually lost hat that is really always on his head," Maggie chimed in.
"Or falling down over his eyes and him hollering that he's been struck blind," Victor added.
"One that has a little puffball of fire light that tried to singe the hem of it," Ivan said with a smirk.
"So, if we decorate the shop in theme for my birthday later this year," Darlene asked, "do I get a Goblin King look-a-like waltzing in?"
Evan snorted back a laugh. "And what would you do with him?"
"A sundry of things not fit to be heard by such inexperienced ears as yours," Darlene said with a lascivious wink.
"You don't swing that way," Evan pointed out crossly.
"It's David-Fucking-Bowie," Darlene said definitively. "Male or female, rainbow gay or arrow straight, we all swing the Goblin King's way."