"I said that's enough! Get out! Michelangelo, escort him out, please." 

Lucas was picked up off of his knees by a strapping gorilla of a man with arms that felt like a titan boa squeezing the life out of his body. The man effortlessly carried him through his unethical workplace, where patrons and workers alike disregarded the cries of Lucas as he was manhandled. 

They probably thought he was just another customer who got too handsy with the merchandise. In his defense, they were half wrong.

They finally reached the exit and Michaelango unceremoniously dumped Lucas outside where he landed in a painful heap. The buzz of the alcohol he had taken could only numb so much. Still, he scrambled up through the protest of his shoulder and eyed his onlookers with pleading eyes. "Carlos, you can't be seriously planning to throw me to the wolves. We're family aren't we, amigo?"

Very distant cousin but it had to count for something, right?

Carlos spat, dusting off his spotless suit that didn't make him look any grander than the short fool he was. He'd become the owner of the strip club through nothing but dumb luck, but success was success—so who was Lucas to judge? "I curse the speck of blood I share with you, puta. I gave you a job, and you steal from the hand that attempts to feed your freeloading romp!"

Lucas sighed. "Is this about that antique cup I borrowed? I was planning to get you a much better one after a trip to Loth's, cousin." Loth's was a popular casino downtown that may as well be Lucas' second home. He knew all of the workers and the regulars, and the regulars made sure to invite him to their table at any opportunity, for he was known to take misguided risks.

Carlos' pudgy face reddened as he poked a meaty finger in Lucas' direction. "That cup was a collector's item worth five thousand, you puerile baboon!"

"What!" Lucas mentally facepalmed. No wonder the people at the poker table had readily allowed him to enter the cup as a substitute for tangible money. He would've been better off selling it first. "Well, five trips to Loth's then...give or take. You just have to supply the buy-in capital and I'll be right on track, cousin. Lady luck is due to smile on me."

"Be happy I don't have a finger taken off your thieving hand," Carlos warned, his face now comparable to a tomato. He spun on his heel, "If you return, that may be the fate that awaits you, puta."

Real scary. Even flanked by two hulking gorillas, Carlos came off as harmful as a butterfly - a remarkably ugly one. He spun on his heel dramatically, obviously feeling that he'd made his point, and stormed back inside of the strip club. Michaelangelo muttered something unintelligible, which was almost certain to be some myopic insult, before following his boss and slamming the door much louder than necessary behind him.

Lucas leaned back, looking up at the bleak unforgiving blanket of the night somberly. He fingered the watch he'd unclasped from Michaelango's wrist, debating if he'd realize it was missing soon. He didn't have to be an expert to tell the watch wasn't real gold, but he decided the man deserved to lose his favorite watch. 

A face popped into Lucas' field of vision. The visage wasn't the most pleasant to look at, with the squarish shape and excessive balding paired with heavy eye bags not assisting him in any beauty pageants. His current disappointed expression didn't help his case either. 

"Now, was that stupid mug worth it, Luke?" The man asked with a dramatic shake of his head.

A grin played across Lucas' face. "Hell, if I knew its actual worth it would've been more than worth it, Markus. A pity I didn't - I would've gotten the opportunity to play more and have a much bigger chance of winning big."

Markus let out a long suffering sigh. "You're hopeless, helpless and now jobless. If we add on another less you'll probably cease to exist."

"You forgot fearless."

Markus rolled his eyes. "Somehow, you make that a bad thing. I think the correct word is reckless."

Lucas secured the fake gold watch on his wrist. "Look on the bright side, Mark," he said while standing up, "Now I'm open to new job opportunities, hopefully higher paying ones. I believe I was getting the family discount salary in this dump. Carlos won't go through the trouble of giving me a bad reference, so it looks like I'm still in business."

"We can also add clueless to the list," Markus said with a facepalm. "You just got publicly fired, Luke - in Carlos' strip club no less. We both know you won't go searching for a job outside of Maisa, so I wouldn't be so sure employers will be so accepting when word spreads." He scoffed, "Lord knows you don't have much skills anyway."

"You probably came out of the womb whining," Lucas said, taking a moment to stretch out his stiff body. As always, the alcohol buzz was fading away much faster than he wanted it to. A man passed on his way to the strip club, eyeing Lucas warily and giving him a wide berth. 

Lucas had been speaking in a hushed whisper, which had become a habit when speaking to Markus, considering no one could see or hear the balding man but him. He wasn't exactly a ghost; he was Lucas' guardian angel, although he wasn't permitted to do much guarding. His job was to bear witness to Lucas' actions, essentially operating as a spy for the "higher powers". Everyone with a magical affinity had one, though it was rare for one to be able to see their guardian angel, and rarer still for the guardian angel to allow it - as Markus had.

Lucas summed up the snarky dead man's "friendliness" as boredom.

"Well, what now?" Markus asked after the man disappeared inside the club.

"Now we go home."

'Home' was essentially a diminutive room in a small shady apartment complex that probably served as a lair for multiple serial killers and bank robbers. On his way up the stairs that lead to the second floor where his room resided, Lucas paused warily as he noticed a figure sitting in the staircase. He smiled as he recognized his landlord, but it quickly faltered when he saw the man's firm expression.

Lucas' amiable nature had won over the landlord - probably due to the contrasting coldness of the other tenants, which made him more amenable to Lucas' negotiations and frequently late payments. Lucas sensed this time would be different, though.

"Howdy there, Steve," Lucas said in greeting with a small wave, now regretting the alcohol stench that wafted off his breath.

Steve stood slowly, making sure that he rose to his full height, which with the added bonus of his higher ground, towered over Lucas' 5'11 height. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Luke. You've always been an agreeable person, and in turn, I have always treated you with respect and patience."

"What? Did you find the body under my bed or something? I promise I was just holding it for our friend down in room 302, it's him you're after not me, good sir," Lucas joked. Steve's face darkened and Lucas realized his joke was more probable in their location than he'd considered. "Kidding," Lucas assured him.

Steve's stern look didn't drop, though Lucas could tell it was a conscious effort. "This is sadly no time for jokes, Lucas. Unless you have the payment ready for the last two months, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Hmph! If only he knew you gambled away twice that amount in the last two weeks," Markus said, very unhelpfully.

Lucas ignored his overcritical guardian angel, focusing on Steve's hawkish face that had none of the usual softness within it. With his lean muscled build, it was clear the man worked out and Lucas suspected he trained in some sort of martial arts, likely for situations just like this one.

Finally, Lucas nodded, digging into his pockets and producing the keys to the room before handing them to Steve who was visibly relieved. "Can I ask what changed?"

"After the police tracked a...criminal to this complex, my father has demanded I become more strict with the business he gave me." Lucas raised an eyebrow, he hadn't heard of the police being here. "He even suddenly got the idea to renovate this place in hopes that it turns more of a profit. Trust me when I say it's in both of our best interests he doesn't poke around and see your missing payments."

Lucas waved a dismissive hand and took up his bag of belongings from the step. "I understand. Sounds like you're going to be a right money launderer when your father is done with you. About time, too, this place was bound to be more trouble than worth for you."

Steve nodded. "You got that right." A lengthy silence followed and Steve stuck out a hand before it got too awkward. Lucas gave it a firm shake.

"Don't worry about me; I'll be back nesting in your hair in no time," Lucas said, gesturing to the man's shining bald head. Steve chuckled and gave him a pat on the back, though Lucas suspected he didn't believe him.

"Life comes at you fast, huh?" Markus said after Steve had made his escape, though having the decency to not completely kick Lucas off the premises as his dear cousin had.

Lucas shrugged, laying back on the side of the staircase for support. "He tolerated me for a long time, I'm sincerely grateful."

"Gratitude won't keep you warm," Markus pointed out.

"Are you sure? I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy inside!"

Thankfully the nights weren't too cold around this time of the year. Lucas dug into the small bag, pulling out one of his meager possessions - a tight plain red T-shirt that matched his red albeit dirty sneakers. His pants were black sweatpants that looked close enough to dress pants for him to wear at work.

"Now homeless," Markus muttered. Lucas knew the man wouldn't be able to resist.

Before he could come up with a response however, the very air changed. Perhaps it was more accurate to say, it suddenly buzzed with an unnatural force that was all too noticeable to a wizard like Lucas. 

Retired wizard.

Even before the man showed his cocky face, Lucas could tell who it was from the particular taste of the magical aura he flexed around him. "Wow, you look comfortable. Forgot your keys?" the shaman asked with a shit-eating grin. The man's head was clean-shaven and he had plenty of intricate tattoos invading his face. Lucas knew that more of the oddly shaped tattoos hid under the dark orange robe he wore.

"Something like that," Lucas replied stiffly.

"Perhaps you forgot our payment along with your keys, then?"

Lucas made a big show of pulling out his pockets which were empty, safe for lint. "I'm running empty as you can see, you'll have to come back another time."

The man's frown grew. Shamans typically disliked people who weren't of the same beliefs, but they especially held a spot for wizards in their hearts of hatred. Lucas believed it was because wizards had a direct link to the magic of the earth, whereas shamans relied on summoning and the like to interact with magic. Basically, they were poorly done ripoffs and Lucas was only being slightly biased in saying that.

"I'm afraid my superiors have grown tired of hearing that-"

"Tell them we're in the same boat."

"And the deadline when they will be forced to take action is fast approaching," the shaman continued, ignoring Lucas' quip. Lucas felt within himself, gripping the whirlwind of power that the supernatural referred to as a magical core and snaked out an undetectable tendril for any shaman lurking in the darkness. He knew they wouldn't be able to disguise their presence, so he was satisfied when he didn't sense any waiting to ambush him.

He regarded the lone shaman confidently. No shaman would be foolish to risk confrontation with a wizard alone, especially one with the rumors swirling around him as Lucas had. "Tell your superiors to make their threats in person and not to send wimpy looking midgets. It's way less intimidating this way."

Though the shaman stood at about 5'6, he didn't seem bothered by the insult. Instead, he gave a sinister grin. "You do not want my superiors to have to meet you in person, wizard." He said wizard as if his tongue was allergic to the word, even flashing a disgusted look as he spat it out. "You have one week to prepare our money, or there will be consequences even the council can't interfere upon.

He watched the man walk back down the steps with distaste, imagining how easy it would be to put him in his place. Instead, he relented, figuring he was in enough crap as it was. The man had spoken the truth though; since Lucas had stupidly entered into a loaning contract on one of his drunken nights, the Wizard Council could not protect him legally.

"What now?" Markus asked again.

"I don't know," Lucas asked honestly. Procuring twenty thousand dollars was certainly possible at Loth's if he walked in with at least half of that, but he couldn't make it appear from thin air. Even if he was one of the people capable of this feat with his magic, the Wizard Council kept watch for such forgeries. considering that each person gave off a unique magical signature - it wasn't hard for them to be tracked down by the powerful archmages.

"There is one thing you could do. Something I've been trying to get you to do since revealing myself to you," Markus said with poorly concealed anticipation. 

The guardian angel had been nagging Lucas to take on wizard jobs for a while, but had ultimately given up because of the poor reception to his idea. Lucas had reasons to not want to expend a lot of magical power, and he certainly didn't consider himself the hero type. He figured Markus didn't care much for his wellbeing anyway and was just looking for a good show.

Lucas once again looked up to the night sky and the stars that shone like lanterns, guiding forces unseen. Markus wasn't done throwing his hook out to sea. "Surely even you aren't stupid enough to think a group of dedicated shaman will not be troublesome. I know yo're kind are required to act like they're some weak insignificant creatures, but strength in numbers is not a myth, Luke."

Lucas made a scene of scratching his chin. There was a stubble of a goatee that as a twenty year old, he considered the ascent into manhood. "I guess slaughtering them all would be frowned upon."

"If you even could pull that off," Markus said with an eye roll. The man sighed, folding his arms and leaning against the wall - an overly dramatic display considering he couldn't actually interact with physical items of earth, which was painfully clear by his back not touching the wall. Evidently, he suspected Lucas had shot down the idea as usual.

"I'll do it."

"I must've not heard you right. Could you repeat?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'll do one damn job. I figure a medium difficulty job could rake in enough dough," he said, referring to the Wizard Council paying for jobs that almost always consisted of dealing with a supernatural entity that was endangering the lives of normal humans.

Markus shrugged, though excitement sparkled in his unnaturally black eyes. "Don't look at me - I wouldn't know, but it's good to see you finally deciding to use your gift."

"Gift is subjective," Lucas said, looking down at his closed fist with mixed emotions. He'd tried his best to live like a normal human, but there was this constant yearning within himself that begged for him to release the power that stayed trapped within. It promised that this day was inevitable - that soon his resolve would be burnt to ash.

It promised that he would become a wizard again.