Marcus was napping on the couch in his apartment on the 18th floor of The Eldorado. The T.V. was on but made barely a whispers worth of sound as he slept away the afternoon. Marcus was “one of the lucky ones” as his friends would say. He’d graduated with a BBA and gone on to get a master’s in business and inherited a sweet apartment on the Upper West Side from his grandparents when they had passed away. His first job out of college had made him enough money that he could live comfortably without having to work a steady job. His entertainment business, Wildcard Tricks, let him make enough money that he could pay his bills and not have to dip into his savings fund. What he really wanted to do though, was run his own nightclub. Not that it was a likely dream, but it was something he wanted to do. For starters, NYC was already full of clubs, some good and some not, and didn’t really need another. He was also a mutant. Marcus played that one close to chest though and as such, not many people knew about it. He was lucky on that front too because his mutation wasn’t overly obvious. Hell, he used his mutation to pull off the zany card tricks he did when entertaining kids at birthday parties. Humans were simple creatures. The easier something was to explain, the easier it was for them to believe. If they wanted to delude themselves into thinking that he had wires attached to the cards, let them. Marcus had known since he was 18 that what he could do was something more than magic. When he was moving the cards he could feel them in his mind. It was an exhilarating feeling actually, knowing that one could control something beyond his own body, even if it was just playing cards. A small smile crossed Marcus’ sleeping face as that though made its way through his subconscious. It was then that his phone let a series of loud, rapid-fire beeps.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

Marcus groggily sat up on the couch and ran his hands over his face to wake himself up. He extended his consciousness out into the room and the playing cards scattered across it and winced. “Must have been one heck of a party if my cards are all over the room,” he thought to himself as he grabbed his phone before it could beep again. He gathered the cards with his thoughts and they flew towards him from all over the room and swirled in the air around him for a moment. Marcus held them that way for a moment before he stacked them neatly on the coffee table in front of him. He glanced about the room as he flipped open his phone, cringing at the sight of the chaos around him. His jacket and shoes were in one corner, his socks and t-shirt in another. “At least I still have my pants on,” Marcus thought aloud as he looked down at the screen of his phone. The text that arrived was an invitation to go out again tonight. Marcus shook his head as he closed the screen. “I’m really getting to old for this,” he said to himself as he stood up. He double checked that his tambos, a pair of wooden sticks about three feet in length with part wrapped in green leather to serve as a handle, and pouch of metal cards were still in their container near the coat rack. He nodded in satisfaction as he felt them there and then went to gather his clothes from the around the room, picking up plates and glasses that had been left out as well. He hung the coat on the rack by his door and walked into his kitchen to wash the dishes. “A shower and then some coffee down at the Peace Pipe,” he thought to himself as he surveyed the now clean living room. He glanced back down at the phone once more but decided not to answer the text just yet. Marcus wanted to see how the rest of his day went first.

After showering and getting dressed, Marcus grabbed his iPod, phone, and wallet. He slipped them into their respective pockets then walked to the door where he paused to collect his tambos and pouch of cards. He’d fashioned slips for the tambos into the legs of every pair of jeans he bought himself, basically making his jeans look like a pair of painters’ jeans with pockets along both legs. He slipped a tambo into the pocket on each leg and then grabbed the pouch of metal cards. Marcus opened the pouch and withdrew a pair of leather fighting gloves that were crisscrossed with hundreds of small surface cuts. A smirk appeared on his face as he thought about the number of times the gloves had kept him from meeting the business end of his favorite weapons and then, with a thought, withdrew one of the metal playing cards from the pouch. Its edges gleamed like razors in the light filtering through the windows of his apartment and Marcus sent the card whistling across his living room, stopping it just before it impacted the wall. He brought the card back towards himself and plucked it out of the air as it sailed past him, careful not to cut his palm with the razor edges, and placed it back with its brethren in the pouch. He tucked the pouch and the gloves into his left back pocket and, placing his headphones in his ears, exited his apartment.

The walk down to the Peace Pipe Café took maybe five minutes, and Marcus was nearly dancing down the sidewalk the whole time. The euphoric trance that was pumping through his speakers was just loud enough to be heard by the people who passed him. As he entered the Café, Marcus noticed that his usual table was empty and he went over to it and sat down. A smile lit up his face as he took in the view of Central Park just across the street. “Awesome day to just sit out and enjoy it. Perhaps, after my coffee, I’ll head over to the park,” he thought to himself as Candy, the waitress that seemed to always work when he was there, came over to the table and Marcus took the headphones out of his ears so he could talk.

“You want the usual Marcus?” She asked, her voice bubbly and energetic.

“Don’t I always?” he answered. “You do something different today, Candy? You look positively radiant,” he said as he tossed a wink her way.

Marcus wasn’t really on the market for a girlfriend but it never hurt to flirt now and then. Candy blushed and mumbled something that Marcus didn’t quite make out before making her way back over to the counter and placing his order. He placed the right ear bud back in and continued to listen to his music while he waited for his large coffee with two sugars and crème. It was out in a jiff and Marcus smiled at Candy again, causing her to blush once more as she walked away. He noticed that she had written her number down on his napkin and pocketed it for later. Without further ado, Marcus leaned back in his chair to enjoy his coffee.

Juka's usual nightly patrols had gone later than usual this last night. Or perhaps that would be earlier than usual since down had come hours ago and it was now fully light out. In truth, his patrols had been getting steadily longer and longer although the actual amount of crime that he managed to stop wasn't getting any more significant as more of his patrols were spent off in his own mind than actual searching for criminals to punish.

There was one particular reason for this turn of events in Juka's life, and that was the realization that his life was very likely to stretch on forever in front of him. In the daylight, surrounded by sun and people, he was learning to deal with this new state of existence, or at least learning to hide how much it bothered him. In truth, as long as he had his friends around him and the constant background of people and happiness, it really didn't bother him. The difficulty lay in those hours after the sun had set when he was alone and forbidden sleep when the thoughts and images played through his head. Images of everyone he knew and cared about rotting away, withering before his eyes as he was trapped in his youthful form. In the daylight he could convince himself that he didn't have to worry about such eventualities for decades yet, but at night it was different. At night there was nothing to remind him of the good things in life, nothing to convince him that his fate was really not so bad as he was making it out to be.

The patrols helped, at least a little. At least when Juka was patrolling the city he had something to do, something practical besides brooding. Unfortunately for the last few nights, despite his best efforts not to, brooding had been what his mind was intent upon. With a sigh Juka set his bubble down at the very edge of Central Park, away from any curious eyes and put his Green Mage costume and mask into his back pack, deciding that what he really needed was a coffee, something sweet and a room full of people.

Crossing the street out of the park and back into the city at large, Juka looked around for any place that caught his eye. While he no longer required food or drink, there was nothing quite like a strong coffee and a piece of cheese cake to make one feel better about the day.

Peace Pipe Café

Deciding the name, at least, looked promising, Juka shrugged to himself and wandered inside. Even after a night of patrols he still looked near his best, if a little more plain than usual, with a long green skirt, fishnets along his arms and his usual big orange hair. The place was busy and he took a seat one table over from a shaggy red haired main wearing headphones. He smiled at the waitress who walked over to take his order. "A coffee and a slice of cheese cake, if you would my fair lady." That was exactly what he needed.

Marcus had just taken a sip of his coffee when a man, well at least the person looked vaguely masculine, with spiked orange hair took a seat at the table next to him. He had to take a second look just to make sure the person was indeed male but was still only mostly certain that it was a man sitting there. He smirked to himself and shook his head a bit before taking another sip of his coffee. “ Ma always did say that everybody was different in their own way. Guess she knew the truth of it after all,” he thought to himself as he looked around the shelves surrounding his table for a deck of cards. Marcus had only brought his metal cards and he preferred to leave those in their leather pouch unless he needed them. Spotting a deck of Hoyle cards with a neat hole punched from the center behind him, Marcus leaned his chair back as far as he could without tipping himself over; unfortunately, the cards remained just out of reach.

Marcus shot a quick glance around the Peace Pipe to make sure that no one was observing him directly. It wasn’t that Marcus was afraid of people’s reactions if they found out he was a mutant, he just didn’t really want it to be public knowledge. As assured as he could be that no one was watching him, Marcus reached out to the cards with his mind and willed them into his hand. The deck jumped the half inch gap into his outstretched hand and a smile cracked his face. “If only people really watched for things instead of seeing what their minds want to comprehend. Of course, it would be far harder to hide among the population if they did.” Marcus thought to himself as he manually pulled the deck out of its box and spread them out in a semi-circle centered on his coffee cup.

“Coffee and a slice of cheesecake, if you would my fair lady,” the more-than-likely-a-man at the next table over said to the waitress when she approached to take his order.

“That settles that, Marcus thought to himself as he flipped the card at one end of the arc with his mind, though he did move his hand to make it seem like he manually turned the cards over. Like a line of dominoes, the cards flipped in procession until the entire line had flipped over to reveal the card number and suit instead of the standard red Hoyle card back. “Definitely a guy. While he may use language that is a bit archaic, only a man would use the phrase ‘my fair lady’ to refer to a woman.” Marcus manually pulled the ace of spades from the line of cards and then swept the rest back into a single pile. He then picked up the ace of spades and leaned back into his chair, turning slightly so that he was facing the new comer.

“First time to the Peace Pipe? Marcus asked the orange haired man as he used his power to make the card spin between his hands. The casual observer would assume that he had somehow affixed ultra-thin fishing wire to the card because that simply easier to believe than the truth; he was moving it with his mind. “Good choice with the cheesecake by the way, they serve some of the best in the city here.” Marcus brought the card to rest in his left hand and used his right to take another drink of his coffee as he waited for a response from Orange Hair.

As Juka waited for his order to arrive, he took the time to get a good look at The Peace Pipe. Although it couldn't' quite be considered a passion of his, he did enjoy watching people in their myriad of colours, shapes and fashions. This particular little shop seemed rather lovely assortment of individuals. It had a rather laid back feel while remaining hip at the same time. All in all, his impressions were positive and if the food and drink were good it might even be a place he would consider returning to.

“First time to the Peace Pipe?"

Juka turned his head back to the man beside him. He had, of course, noticed the individual on his way in and during his once over of the room. He had even noticed the card tricks though, like most, assumed it was mere slight of hand although rather impressive slight of hand, he'd give the man that. As a mutant himself perhaps he should be more observant when it came to noticing the powers of others, unfortunately he wasn't known to be the most observant when it came to much of anything. Well, much of anything outside of the realms of fashion and music, his two true life long passions.

"It is indeed my first time here," Juka answered, with a friendly grin. "I presume you're a regular?" It seemed a logical assumption based on the cheese cake recommendation. As the man spun the card on the table, Juka was forced to reassess his initial opinion that the man was simply a rather talented slight of hand artist. No magician or trickster that he had ever seen had been able to do something like that and surely he would see the wires attached to the cards if there was any? It might be said that he was notoriously unobservant and greatly lacking in common sense, but he certainly wasn't stupid.

"That's some trick you've got going on there," Juka observed. "How's it done?" He quirked an eyebrow at the man. Even though he was beginning to suspect that it was more mutant powers and less slight of hand trickery, he knew that many weren't quite as open with their mutant heritage as he was. Although even he wasn't about to bubble in the middle of a crowded public place in order to demonstrate.

Marcus took the man’s friendly grin as he asked if he was a regular as a good sign. It certainly indicated that the man had on ounce or three of civility.

“I suppose you could call me that,” Marcus replied. “The Peace Pipe is the closest place to my apartment, the fact that they happen to serve excellent coffee and food is a plus though!”

A Cheshire cat grin crossed Marcus’ face as the man commented on his “card trick” and asked how it was done. Without missing a beat, Marcus replied with his standard answer, “ A magician never reveals his secret, my good man. Thank you for the compliment though; it’s always nice to have one’s work appreciated!”

With that he set his coffee down and slipped the card back onto the top of the deck. ‘There are some things that have to be kept to myself for now, I believe. Being a mutant may not hold the stigmata that it once did but that doesn’t mean we are universally accepted,’ he thought to himself as he turned his chair towards his conversation partner.

“The name is Marcus Lannon,” he said, formally introducing himself, “and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Officially, I am a magician who performs at parties and gatherings to make ends meet. Really I just do that to make sure the bills get paid. What about you? What brings you to The Peace Pipe?”

((OOC: Wow. Terribly sorry about my slugishness with the posting Juka. Got kinda wrapped up in work after I got back from the beach. Better late than never though, right?))

Good food and excellent coffee was exactly what Juka was hoping for. The woman who took his order returned, at that time, bearing both coffee and a lovely (and rather sizable) slice of cheese cake topped with whipped cream. He beamed happily at her, handing her a tip fo her efforts. Before continueing the conversation he simply had to taste this highly recommended piece of cheese cake and, when he put the piece of cake in his mouth, he nodded contendly. "You certainly are right about the cheese cake." The simple things in life, they were what made it all worth while.

Juka still wasn't too sure about the man and his card tricks. While Juka didnt' know much about magitians, he did know a little something about telekinesis. Even if his bubbles were a rather unusual form of it, they were still telekinetic bubbles so he felt he had a little experience to draw upon in the matter. Given that fact, he realized that Marcus' tricks looked an aweful lot like some form of telekinesis. Could a magician do something like that without the aid of mutant powers? He really wasn't sure.

"Well, if you must keep your secrets then I suppose you must. As a performer myself, I understand." Of course, as a performer Juka all but flaunted his mutation, making it a part of the act. One of the drawing points of his band was, after all, the fact that they were all mutants. "As for what brought me here, I guess I was just bored and it looked like an interesting place." He shurgged and took a sip of his coffee. Delicious and perfect.