2019-07-16 - Wishful Thinking

It's closing time. Customers don't have to go home, but they can't stay here. Elias hums a little bit to himself as he locks up the registers, checks the back door and all the interior doors, making sure nobody fell asleep in the break room, or is still in the restroom before he locks them in for the night. He takes one last look around before he flips on the security system and heads out the door, locking it behind him. CLOSED, the shop's sign proclaims, at least for tonight.

No small town is complete without a Wishing Well, and there is one in Gray Harbor. From where Likely Stories sits, the building has a pretty good view of it and it only a few minutes walk the distance. Locals and Tourists alike will stop by, toss in a coin, and make a wish.

Even as Elias is leaving the shop he can feel something in the air. It almost feels like a calm before a storm, an electric charge just simmering, waiting. When he turns around from locking the door he's met with what looks like Gray Harbor but it feels off. The sunset is too hazy, some of the businesses aren't named the same. The streets are rather empty at the moment. It almost feels desolate. What might stand out the most, however, is that there's a strange sloth-like creature standing at the wishing well, emptying the bucket -which is full of things instead of coins - into a red wagon.

Elias turns from locking the door and finds Downtown to not be quite Downtown, again. This time, however, the buildings don't have eyes and mouths -- which seems to be some source of relief, even if the desolate landscape with its crackling energy is very much not. He pauses in the doorway and looks around slowly, sliding his keys into his pocket. Some of the businesses have different names. That, he notices first. Then there's the sound of things being dumped into a wagon, and that draws his attention to the... sloth? There's a sloth at the well, and that gives him a moment's pause.

There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, and so Elias begins to make his way toward the creature slowly, his hands in his pockets, at a leisurely stroll. He glances from the well toward the wagon and back toward the creature. "Have people been throwing junk into the well?" Yes, when one encounters a strange sloth creature in BizarroGrayHarbor, one just assumes it can talk.

The sloth looks up as it seems to hear foot steps of someone approaching. It's moving at a rather rapid pace -for a sloth. Which is to say, he's moving right along like a normal person might. He peers at Elias, then behind him, and then back to the man. "Of course not. This is the Wishing Well." The contents of the bucket are completely emptied and the bucket is lowered back into the well. He can talk indeed! And he sounds about as old as he looks. He's just missing a monocle. The contents of the wagon are a mix of odds and ends. Lockets, dolls, pictures, keys, a variety of mementos. "Where else would the wishes go?" He picks up the handle of the wagon, starting to walk back in the direction of Likely Stories. Which, if Elias turns around, he will see is not -in fact- called Likely Stories. But instead, Wishful Thinking.

Of course not. Elias studies the contents of the wagon and says, "So, these are the things that people wish for." It's not a question, really, just an observation as he watches the Sloth-creature move to head past him. He turns around to glance over his shoulder, half-expecting to see his own shop just as he'd left it, but doesn't seem entirely shocked when it has a different name. He takes a step out of the way so that the Sloth-creature can go about his business, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't follow him on into the shop. It's sort of his, right? It is in the other Downtown. "Where else, indeed," he muses.

"They are indeed." The sloth doesn't seem to mind that he has a new companion. "Hold the door, will you?" Since Elias is a fair bit taller than him, why not take advantage of the situation? Pulling the red wagon in with both hands if Elias does indeed help him out.

The interior of the Wishful Thinking is also quite different from its Real World counterpart. It's set up more like a museum. They are in a foyer. There's a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. To the left is an area marked 'NO ENTRY' above the archway though really, anyone could easily walk in to the space. It just seems like it's a work area. Straight ahead and to the right is exhibits. Right in the enter of the foyer is a pedestal that holds a guestbook, and beside it is a stand that holds a listing of the exhibits. "You aren't from around here. I can tell." The sloth starts dragging the red wagon towards the 'No Entry' part. "Do you have a name?"

Elias does reach out to grab the door and hold it for the Sloth as it trucks in its load of wishes from the well. Once the cart has cleared the door, he follows along inside and lets it close behind him, taking a look around. He makes his way over to the stand with the listing of exhibits, and glances down at the list first, curious as to what the museum itself might hold. "Oh, I am.. from around here, in a loose sense of around, and here," he says idly as he watches the wagon heading toward what he presumes is the employee work space. "I do," he replies. "Do you?" He glances over toward the Sloth. "Are you the curator of this museum?" He wanders over toward the archway but doesn't go through it. He just leans up against the entry, with one shoulder, arms folded in front of him.

There's exhibits such as 'Lost', 'Treasured', 'Family', 'Toys', and there's even exhibits named after some families that have been in the town for generations. The Addingtons are a given but Elias does note there is a 'Webers' exhibit too among the family named ones. The museum might just be bigger on the interior than it is on the exterior, but not by too much. It wouldn't be too hard for Elias to put together that the wishes get put on display.

The sloth begins the task of laying out all the items he's collected from the bucket on to a table that's just the right height for him. "Everyone has a name." There's a pause. "...Most everyone has a name." Like he might know some people or creatures that don't have names. "This is my museum yes." Glancing back towards Elias. "If you wish to take a look around you must sign the guestbook." Then he looks back to the task at hand. Not offering up his name either yet.

Curious. He says, "There are things that have no names, and have no faces, that lurk in the dark, and feed on our fears. They don't seem the sorts to care much for wishes, unless they are wishes unfulfilled, or perhaps made in desparation." Elias drifts over toward the guest book. He doesn't sign it, not yet. Instead, he looks through the most recent list of names, if there is one, to see who else may have put theirs down.

"Is there a fee? A donation box of some sort?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder toward the Sloth through the archway of the work area, standing near the guest book and exhibit list.

"Even those things have names. Even if it is simply names given to them by others." The sloth counters lightly. "That is why there are ones like me. To care for the wishes. " There might have been a shrug, keeping Elias in his sight out of the corner of his eye. The guest book does have a few names. The dates are not in any recognizable format and none of the names are familiar. Some seem like normal names. Others are a bit more...esoteric. But just judging by the faded color of the ink it doesn't seem like there's been any real guests in the museum in some time.

"There is a fee. Paid when you finish your tour. " The Sloth lifts a pair of spectacles off another table and slides them on as he pads back over to his new acquisitions, opening up a book and picking up a felt-tipped pen with one hand and a faded photograph off the table with the other, studying it before making notes. Either he doesn't intend to tell Elias was the fee is, or he just got sidetracked with his work. It's rather unclear.

"I suppose that is true enough, though those aren't real names, they're just, nicknames. True names have meaning," Elias says as he glances at the guest book. Unable to interpret much that is written there, he turns his attention back to the Sloth. "And what is the fee?" he asks. "Since I'm not inclined to enter into any bargains I'm not sure I can make good on, after all."

"Names are as real as we want them to be Mr. Weber. Even nicknames have meaning." Oh. The Sloth does know him. Of him. Maybe he was just being polite earlier. The Sloth continues in his work of examining the items and making notes about them. Finally he stops for a moment to turn and focus on Elias. "To walk through this museum is to get a glimpse of some very sincere parts of people's lives. Things held close to their heart. The payment for that is to share likewise. Something you keep close to your heart. A secret, if you will."

"Some meaning, but not the /same/ meaning," Elias says, though he doesn't seem inclined to argue too hard on the topic. Instead, he makes his way over to the guest book, and takes up the pen there, and signs his name -- Elias Weber, and the date as it was when he had closed up the shop only moments ago.

"That seems a fair price for what might be seen," Elias agrees, and then makes his way toward the Weber exhibit. One might think he'd be drawn to all the possibilities of perhaps prying into the wishes of other families, but no -- it's his own that makes him the most curious, and so that is the direction that he takes.

The sloth watches him sign the book and head off towards the Weber exhibit. A sort of knowing look - though Elias can't see it. Then he returns to his work.

The Weber family has been in Gray Harbor since the start. Elias knows this. All Webers know it. It can't be confirmed when the Wishing Well actually was installed. It's just always kind of been there. Everyone knows about the Wishing Well, but a wishing well isn't something that shows up in the history books. It must have been around for a lot longer than people think though - because there's a lot of wishes.

When Elias enters into the exhibit it seems arrayed from oldest to newest. There are framed photographs of Webers dating all way back to the 1890s. Names and birth-death years listed underneath. Of course, if they're still alive the death part is left blank. And beneath those photographs are little inset square shelves that house a single item each along with a small plaque. The names closest to Elias are Abigail Weber, Imogene Weber, and Cassius Weber.

Taking a closer look at the photos, Elias would realize they are almost like a slide show. Starting from whenever their first wish was made and aging all the way until their last wish. Then starting over again.

Elias looks at some of those oldest photographs, and the wishes that they display, particularly those first three, studying each of them. Abigail first, then Imogene, and then finally Cassius, making a note of what item is displayed, and reading its little plaque, provided that it contains any information to read. He doesn't seem as curious about the modern Webers. Oh, he knows he and his sister are probably there, among cousins and others. But he seems focused on those first Webers. That is where his true curiosity lies.

Abigail was a young woman when she made her first wish at the well. Mid to late twenties with that signature dark Weber hair done in curls. Though pretty, it seems like something is weighing her down. The years on the placard read 1870-1905. She has exactly one wish. The placards give some information. The name of the item, the date of the wish, and the words spoken. It is a small gold banded ring with an equally small diamond. -'Henry's Ring' - April 19th 1889 - "Please, please let me find Henry's ring. It's all I have left."

Imogene looks nearly identical to Abigail, but her eyes are a little wilder. Her hair is straight and she hasn't let life get her down. The years under her photograph are 1890-1966. She has three wishes.

1. A baby doll that may or may not be a little unsettling to look at. Though it is a totally normal doll for that time period. - "Baby Jane" - May 10th, 1900 - "I didn't mean to break the doll. I wish it could be better."

2. A nurses cap circa World War 1 - "Elizabeth" - December 1, 1915 - "Please bring Elizabeth home safe."

3. A pendant necklace- "Heirloom" - February 20th, 1950 - "I wish this necklace really could extend my life. I don't think I'm going to be around much longer."
   

Elias reads Abigail's plaque, and his lips curve downward into a slight frown, as he looks sadly at the picture, and then at the ring and the wish. There's something about it that touches him, and he lingers on that one for a while, before he looks at Imogene's wishes. "Sixteen more years, Imogene. That's not so bad, particularly for the time in which you lived. Maybe it did, after all." The words are quietly murmured to himself, before he looks over to Cassius.

Cassius Weber is a tall man, perhaps on the lanky in youth but holding himself in a more distinguished manner. His dates are...old. Older than Gray Harbor. Which is strange. 1652-1693. Like Abigail, he only has one wish. So perhaps it isn’t the quantity of wishes per person so much there were so many Webers eventually it just made sense to put them all together.

A leather corded necklace that has a rectangular piece of wood with occult symbols carved into it. -”Amulet” - January 15, 1692 - “Everly says everything will be okay, but a little extra protection never hurt anyone. So here goes nothing. I wish for this amulet to protect the wearer however it sees fit.”

Elias might actually recognize this necklace. It has a place among other family heirlooms in the Weber Household. No one really knows the full story behind it aside that it’s been in the family for generations. Some of the older Webers - older than his grandparents - might recall bits and pieces of it possibly being part of the reason why Webers have their shine.

Elias studies the picture of Cassius, and then the amulet itself. His brow furrows a little bit as the item looks familiar. There are some items that the family keeps stored away in a cabinet upstairs, various bits and bobs from over the years -- but few of them have any written explanations of what they are along with them, the knowledge of what significance they have passed from one generation to the next. Perhaps Elias' grandparents have some of that knowledge, or his great-grandparents, but he does not. He's more than aware of the Webers' dabbling in the occult. They all do, here and there, to some extent. But the symbols aren't immediately familiar. He tries to commit them to memory, however, so that he can look for the amulet when he gets back home.

After a few moments of study, he then wanders the Weber section, heading toward the more modern Webers, just idly looking to see who is there, moreso than looking for anything specific. And then, once he finishes surveying the Webers, he takes a small detour over toward the Addingtons -- because Addingtons, and curiosity.

As Elias walks the rest of the Weber section he sees plenty of recognizable Webers. Some cousins, his siblings, aunts, uncles, parents, even a couple of his own from younger years. The trend continues to be the quality of the wish. The heartfeltness behind it. This means that, yes, there are some wishes that are just for toys or other trinkets that might seem silly to outsiders, but the sincereness with which the wish was made is what brought it to life.

The Addington section seems to be a little sparser but that could just be because there's not as many Addingtons as there are Webers who have used the well. It seems there are more older ones than there are recent uses. One wish of note is from Thomas Addington in 1899. It's a minature version of the sawmill and a wish for the deaths to cease. If Elias does any kind of looking into it later, he would see that the Sawmill closed down not too long after that. Maybe just a coincidence. After all, a place with so many deaths is bound to get shut down sooner rather than later.

Elias can't help but smile just a little bit as he walks past some of the other Weber wishes, but he doesn't linger there, at least not for now. It's the older wishes that he's most interested in, things from the past. The sawmill gets his attention, and the wish surrounding it. He's acquainted with its history, at least in passing. But once he's finished there, he begins to make his way back toward the front, and the Sloth creature in his workshop. "How do you take payment?" he asks, "Should I write it down for you, or merely share with you my secret?"

The Sloth is working steadily and studiously. Meticulously categorizing every item. Elias catches a few more glimpses of them. Some look foreign, others look older than the present time. It's a curious thing, but then again so is everything about the Veil. Setting down the current item he is working on documenting, a silver coin, the Sloth looks up to Elias, taking a few steps back towards him. "You may tell it to me, yes. Did you enjoy your tour Mr. Weber?"

"I did, Mr.." Elias pauses, not quite certain how to address the Sloth, ".. thank you. It's a fascinating museum that you have here, and that you keep this place filled with hopes and desires alive, even after those who made the wishes are gone. It's a place I'd like to visit again sometime, if it were possible." He smiles a bit, then, and says, "My secret is that I have always hoped that the Webers actually were witches, and that this Glimmer that so many of us have was for some sort of purpose, like in some great story, tied to some kind of destiny, that we were something.. special, I guess." He smiles a bit wryly with the admission. "Perhaps I write too many stories."

"Pocketwatch." The Sloth finally offers, maybe with a smile? A little hard to tell. "You are welcome to come back. The price of admission remains the same." So what happens when you're all out of secrets? Pocketwatch weighs this particular secret, debating on the validity of it and how true it may be. Seeming to be satisfied, Elias would hear a soft click like a door was unlocking. "All stories have a grain of truth to them. The Glimmer is special and comes with responsibilities." Elias knows all this already doesn't he? "There are not many families I have seen that have as many who shine as the Webers. It is an interesting thing. Perhaps there is a destiny for you. Only time can tell." A motion towards the door - signaling the Elias could leave now.

"Thank you, Mr. Pocketwatch, for your time, and the tour. May your museum continue to flourish with wishes," Elias says and gives a little bow to the creature before taking a step back towad the now-unlocked door. He pauses though, for a moment and turns back to ask, "Is there anything that you might wish for? If I were to ever make my way here again, that I could bring for you?"

Pocketwatch looks surprised by this question. Like, he's never thought of having a wish of his own. He looks around the museum and then he looks back to Elias. "I simply wish for this museum to continue on. For others to see it and enjoy it." He decides. "Do be careful out there Mr. Weber. It's a dangerous world we live in." Turning so he can head back into his workshop.

Elias dips his head to Pocketwatch then and says, "Thank you," once more, and turns and heads out the door.

As Elias touches the door, he can feel his energies focusing a bit. As he heads out the door he's walking, not back on to the street but into a vaguely misty looking shape that takes up the whole door. He can see the town through the haze. As he walks through it - he's no longer in the strange Downtown, but the normal one. People are going about their day. Likely Stories is Likely Stories and everything seems to be back in place. Whatever just happened, it seems like he's made it out just fine!

Elias glances back over his shoulder after he comes out the other side of that misty haze, tilting his head a little bit curiously. He's seen some weird shit in the Veil, but that had to be one of the least unpleasant experiences he's ever had, and something about that just.. puzzles him. But when he turns back around, he's back on the street, just as it had been when he'd closed up.