1632 Revello Drive
Prologue – Moving In
1991 – Sunnydale, California
An ancient car rumbled down the streets of a quiet town with two occupants in it. One was an older man with a passing resemblance to Gandalf, great beard included, the other a much younger man with red hair and clean shaven. The two had been driving for days and finally came to a stop outside of an unassuming house with a 'for sale – sold' sign outside it.
"You're sure about this?" The red-haired man, whose name was Roland, lit a cigarette to the older man's wrinkled nose, indicating his distaste for the habit. The red-haired man rolled down his window in response and blew off the concern.
"Quite sure, yes." The older man, whose name was Cornelius, spoke with a gravely, but rather sedate voice. The two men dismounted the vehicle, a vintage Model T, each retrieving a box from the back seating. Cornelius unlocked the door with a set of brass keys and the two men set about moving boxes from the car to the house.
"Alright, old man, as you say, but I'm headed back east, home needs someone to look after it, yeah?" Roland set a box down next to a bucket left behind by contractors and sighed. "I'm a phone call away, you remember what those are, yes?" Roland held up a brick of black plastic and waved it about, Cornelius set an oaken staff against his coat rack and hung a felt cap from one of its rungs.
"I was there when it was invented, my friend." Cornelius chuckled and waved his hand, the boxes unpacked themselves in a crescendo of small magics, draperies hung themselves, bookshelves filled themselves and furniture arranged itself, the curtains went up first, dark and heavy to hide the light of day, certainly, but it was mostly to keep out prying eyes. Roland for his part was unimpressed, it was not the first time he'd seen the old wizard do magic. He was there for television, too, he'd thought the camera was more romantic, capturing a moment in time forever. The airplane disquieted the old man, though and he let his friend know with a disparaging look that questioned his sanity, but he let that go when Roland spoke up.
"Call me, I mean it. This place gives me the oddest feeling, and I'm as close as it gets to normal out of all the people you know." Roland, whose flight back would take some expense that the man didn't quite have, made for the door and Cornelius followed him, offering a firm shake of his hand as he stepped out. The old wizard also slipped a bundle of cash into his pocket.
"I'm sure it'll be fine, do let me know when you… land. I hate flying." The wizard felt a shiver go down his spine at the thought of it while his younger friend just laughed.
"You're immortal and can do magic but flying is what skeeves you out, fair enough." Roland stepped out into the darkness to call a cab while Cornelius closed the door and crossed from his new entrance hall to a comfortable chair, which he sank into with a gruff sigh. Roland was right, the old wizard conceded as he flexed his fingers, little lights of small magic skipping happily around his digits. Something was very wrong here indeed.
The next day, Cornelius sat up out of his bed, an old four poster with draw curtains that were a deep wine red, and he sighed. He'd miscounted the years again. Damn…
This short scene is the beginning of my foray into a series I've loved dearly for many years that feature a handful of original characters and is told from the perspective of one of them. As always, owners retain their rights, I own the dolls I made, not all the ones I play with.
I will try to capture the spirit of the series as much as possible, but it has been sixteen years since I was sixteen so that will be hard.