S1E7 Formally Speaking
COLD OPEN
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA
Amos secured the last rubber hook-thing connecting a tarp to his truck, keeping his stuff safe.
"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Vincent made his way through the mess of a back door his apartment had. Since he didn't need or have a car, Amos was able to use his space.
"Don't worry about it, man." Amos tested the straps. "I'm fine." He wanted for a moment to test the tarp again before deciding it was plenty secure. "Thanks again for letting me crash here."
"It's nothing." Vincent held his hand up to calm him. "You kept me out of trouble in High School, I oughta keep you out of trouble with your folks."
"I thought it was you keeping me out of trouble." Vincent rolled his eyed in half-dismissal and half-agreement.
"Where you gonna stay 'till classes start?"
"The dorms reopen early in the winter." Amos entered his truck. "Oh, and thanks again for keeping an eye on my stuff."
"It's the least I can do! Stop thanking me." Vincent chuckled.
"I make no promises." Amos turned on the truck before backing it out of the parking space. "Bye, man!"
"Don't blow anything up before I can visit!"
The Theme Song, a glorious merging of John Williams and Ron Wasserman, plays.
ARCHMAGE
Created by Seth Campbell
FORMALLY SPEAKING
Written by Seth Campbell
PART ONE
ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA
Tom finally got his Mac to connect to the local network, making a mental note to complain to one of the Deans. His thought was cut short with Amos entering, arms full of tangled wires and what was most likely his PC.
"Hey man, how's it going?" Tom smiled as Amos set his console on the floor next to his desk where he dumped the rest of what he was holding.
"Don't." Amos pulled out the power cord.
"Don't what?"
"I didn't have a good break." Amos gave Tom the look of death and he decided not to press further.
"So, what classes you got?" Amos fished a sheet of paper from a box.
"I've got more Algebra, Science, Sociology, and something called 'Keystone'." Amos shrugged as Tom started stacking his textbooks next to his computer.
"Oh God, I had that last semester. It's this dumb thing, you gotta watch a bunch of motivational speakers."
"Ouch." Amos gulped. "Thank God I'm going to the dance. One last night of freedom."
"Oh, you going? Who with?"
"Ellen." Tom raised his eyebrows as Amos started making his bed.
"Sweet."
After unloading and organizing his crap, Amos decided to indulge himself with a trip to the bookstore. He entered to see that Maris was chatting it up with an old dude; he had a powerful laugh.
"Hey there," he got their attention. "Don't tell me you're seeing someone else, now." Maris laughed at his joke.
"Hey Amos." She gestured to the man. "This is Jakub Dadik." Amos was surprised anyone could either have or even pronounce a name like that.
"Quite a name; where's it from?" Amos was curious.
"It's Czech." He got his question answered and also learned what a Czech accent sounded like.
"Well, I'm just Southern." Amos extended his hand. "Amos Hammond," they shook hands.
"Nice to meet you." Jakub had a surprisingly firm handshake for someone his age. "So what do you do?"
"I go to the college across the street." He took his hand back. "I'm thinking of going into historical study."
"That's quite a niche." Amos seemed to have gotten his attention. "I can't imagine more than five people doing that professionally."
"Well, someone's gotta do it." Amos smirked. "It probably won't be easy. But anything's easier than math."
"The world you know would become much bigger." They both laughed before Amos headed for the stacks. "I think I'll be off, then; bye." He waved to Maris and Amos. They waved and said goodbye back.
Later and back at the dorm, Amos was immersed in the world of Slightly Damned, until a familiar ding yanked his attention from the webcomic.
He opened the admin client for his website to see who had a poltergeist this time. (it was always a poltergeist) The query didn't disappoint.
It was at the warehouse he fought Owen.
PART TWO
Amos took an unusually large bite out of his "Hubba" Panini while Ellen set down her Cuban. He made a weird face while swallowing because of the Datil Pepper jelly.
"Should I pick you up at seven, or some other time?" Ellen paused for a moment to ponder an answer.
"Seven's fine." Amos smiled.
"School dances, feels just like High School all over again." Ellen sighed. "By the way, I never asked; what were you like in High School."
"Actually," Amos set his sandwich down. "I was kinda hot shit back in my day." He smiled at how he made himself sound old.
"Wait, I thought you didn't get your magic thing until September."
"True," he smiled. "But I was what some people called a 'bad boy'. Mostly because I didn't buy into the whole Southern thing so I was cool." He paused for a moment. "Also I was the only guy who knew how to play Stairway to Heaven"
"Damn," she raised all of her eyebrows. "I was just the funny girl."
"What's New York like?" Amos had never been north of Kentucky.
"Surprisingly meh." Amos was actually taken back by that. He always thought New York was supposed to be exciting and stuff. "I live on the edge of queens and all the good stuff's in Manhattan."
"By the edge, you mean-"
"Closer to Levittown than Astoria." Amos barely knew the geography of where <i>he</i> lived. "I live just outside the city limits."
"Oh," Amos was confused. "In other news, I got a job... A weird job."
"Considering your job, it must be really weird."
"It's just a poltergeist, but it's at the place I fought Owen."
"God, that guy;" Ellen didn't like it when people kidnapped her. "What the hell happened to him, anyway?"
"I think he got off on an insanity plea." Ellen sighed in slight disappointment. "And by 'got off' I mean 'thrown in a padded box'." Ellen wasn't disappointed anymore.
Amos decided to leave out the fact that the IP Address had been scrambled, meaning it probably was a setup. But even then, he was gonna go anyway because he felt like it.
After a quick trip back to his dorm for an obvious change of clothes, Amos arrived at the ex-warehouse. In hindsight, disuse seemed to have made an improvement on its appearance. With no sign of his mystery client, he ventured inside.
Whatever thoughts he had about the exterior appearance were blown out the water by the inside. It was a complete wreck. Everything was either broken, ripped from the walls, or even both. It was urban blight at its finest.
The dim lighting and assortment of garbage ensured that he couldn't see anything. He tried to sense for any residual magic, but whatever the hell Owen did while he was there blocked out anything that might be important.
Repeatedly botching any attempt to navigate around what used to be an office/library, he decided to just project light from his hand; wondering why he didn't just do that in the first place.
While avoiding many piles of sharp things, he entered the main room where he had an invisible swordfight with Owen. The room was surprisingly devoid of junk. Passing a large concrete support pillar, he stopped short of a broken ceramic-thing with some kind of powder leaking out of it.
Amos knelt down, curious, to get a better look. The broken thing had a creepy and evil-looking face on it and the powder was ash. He remembered knocking something over during the fight. He guessed this was it. He felt there was something behind him.
That something was not human, very powerful, and about to jump him.
He instinctually dodged to his left & immediately their invisible swords met. This wouldn't be easy. After a couple of clumsy parries, he managed to get a hold of his opponent's fighting style.
If he was a "normal" person, his opponent's invisibility would be more than enough to make him completely useless. But since he wasn't normal, he could rely on other methods. Even then, he couldn't just turn off its invisibility, it was that powerful.
This poltergeist (it was always a poltergeist) wasn't gonna go down easy. Also Amos's bargain-bin Highlander re-enactment wasn't accomplishing much. His train of thought, though, was cut short with an incoming strike. Thankfully, he was able to dodge-roll out of the way like a boss.
Making sure he didn't cut his face on whatever sharp things were strewn over that specific swath of concrete, Amos did a magically agile roll and got back up on his feet, ready to fight.
The poltergeist was gone.
After ensuring he didn't get an infection from anything, Amos started to get dressed for his big night while Tom looked on in mostly confusion.
"What the hell are you wearing?"
"It's called a Ditto Suit." Amos turned around to face him. "I got in High School because... reasons." Tom rolled his eyes as Amos pulled up his collar. "By the way," he removed a long strip of black cloth from a small box. "Whad'ya gonna do while I'm gone?"
"I'm having an art jam with some of the guys in art club." Amos nodded before wrapping the strip twice around his neck, securing his collar in the popped position. "Now what are you doing?"
"It's called a cravat." Amos began tying it into a strange knot. "It's a precursor to the necktie and it's classy." He finished, leaving his neckwear with a knot resembling a rounded square and two short dangling pieces of cloth.
"So how did that job go?" Tom asked as Amos tucked his staff (now disguised as a wooden flute) up his sleeve.
"Well, aside from getting jumped by an invisible thing, a great big load of absolutely nothing." He did something with his wrist to make the bulge caused by the flute to disappear. "But I got paid, so I guess it doesn't really matter."
"Well," Tom still wasn't used to this kind of crap. "Have fun with Ellen."
"I hope to." Amos waved goodbye as he went for the door. "Have fun with your fellow hipsters." He immediately darted out of the room and down the hall before Tom could make it to the door.
"I'm not a hipster!"
PART THREE
Ellen waited in the middle of the rotunda along with a bunch of other people waiting for their dates to arrive. Her waiting was cut short with a tap on her shoulder.
"What the hell are you wearing?" First Tom, now Ellen. Amos rolled his eyes.
"It's a Ditto Suit. It's period-specific." The dance was suppose to emulate the Gilded Age; at least Amos thought it was supposed to be.
"Okay," Ellen shrugged as they turned towards the door to the Dining Hall. More people started to enter and pair up with their dates before journeying on.
"So, are we ready to push off?" Amos offered her his arm the way they always did in the movies. No matter how much he hated his parents, some of their habits had become unbreakable. Indifferent to the intricacies of Southern culture, Ellen wrapped her arm around his.
Halfway up the stairs, Amos felt a tremendous chill in his gut, stopping him in his tracks. His arm knot unraveled as the chill worked its way up his spine.
"Something wrong?" He knew both what it was and where it was.
"It's here." The chill faded as he regained his composure. "I'm sorry. I'll be <i>right</i> back." Ellen half-sighed as Amos wormed his way through the loose crowd, heading for one of the large pillars keeping the upper floors from becoming lower floors.
Passing behind the comedicly large marble shaft, he shielded himself from everyone's gaze before removing the flute from his sleeve. With a slight flick, it grew into the Knotted Staff. His clothes then swiftly grew into a burgundy cloak before he made his way for the men's room.
Upon entry, he was surprised that the bathroom was empty. Usually there was always at least one guy trying to work the fancy brass faucets. His observations were sadly interrupted when the chill he had felt in his gut started to envelop the room before slowly condensing into a person sized cloud about two yards in front of him.
"Amos..." The cloud tilted itself towards him as he slowly realized whatever the cloud was wasn't a poltergeist at all. "I have seen your works, and they please me."
"No thank you!" Any speech the not-poltergeist had in mind was cut short by a face full of magic energy-stuff. Amos fired a second time, just to make sure it wouldn't come back. Assured that it was gone and he hadn't broken anything expensive, he headed back for Ellen.
Most all of the patrons had entered the Hall by the time Amos returned to Ellen, waiting patiently by the college gift shop. Back in his suit, he complimented her simple black dress surprisingly well. Without a word, he offered his hand and she took it.
"So what was that all about?" She lead him up the stairs.
"It was nothing," he lied. "It was just a poltergeist." They passed the threshold into the ball. "It's always a poltergeist."
The Dining Hall always seemed big all the time, but when most of the tables are taken away it becomes officially huge. He never really looked at the ceiling windows since the tour, but at the time it was noon and he couldn't see a thing. At night though, the Tiffany's stained glass reflected the starlight across the floor.
Amos and Ellen made their way towards the off-center area where all the other sharply dressed couples were mingling. Almost all of them were affluent locals, so Amos and Ellen didn't know who any of them were. Knowing any attempt to start a conversation wouldn't end well, they headed for the dance area.
"Now don't step on my feet." Ellen unlocked her arm from Amos as they took the traditional posture for a slow dance.
"I make no promises." He took his place and they began slowly as the oddly-timed breakup song began to end. Despite their worries, no toes were being violated.
"I guess we finally got that do-over on our first date." Neither of them enjoyed talking about what exactly went wrong; and their first attempt at a raincheck didn't go that well, either. "Why did you cancel the first try, again?"
"Well, let's see." He began a trip down embarrassment alley. "I was studying for midterms, also I had just been kicked in the sack by a freaking mummy." Bruised junk wasn't the best turn-on for romance. "We have a weird relationship."
"I thought we had become just friends." The music changed from a girl with a piano to something more upbeat.
"Well..." Amos almost stepped on Ellen's foot but caught himself. "Do you want to try and have it be a thing, again?"
"Okay," she smiled as the music started getting stupid. "Why not? I'm game."
"Alright then," Amos suddenly got really good at dancing through not-so-unknown means. He briefly thought about whatever the hell that thing in the bathroom was, but only for a moment. They just danced the year away.
Amos solo-slowdanced into his dorm after leading Ellen to the elevator. (it was no boys allowed past that point) Although his magic dancing skills had faded, he still managed to carefully step around a slew of art supplies and over a sketch of a hyena wearing a sweatshirt before landing peacefully in his bed.
"I see you had a good night." Tom was feeding five bajillion sheets through a scanner. Amos took off his cravat, allowing his neck to breathe.
"Yeah," he sighed. "There was this one thing in the bathroom, but I'm sure I can take care of it later."
"Wait," that got Tom's attention. "What was in the bathroom?"
"A poltergeist, or something." Amos yawned as Tom pulled a small package from behind his Mac.
"By the way," Amos sat up. "This was left for you." He handed it to Amos.
"The hell?" Amos started to unwrap it, revealing a small journal. Amos's budding curiosity was strangled prematurely by the name on the first page: Warren Lynn.
THE END