` Jack Corvo and Walter Williamson ` Despite his usual sarcastic and detached demeanor, Jack always loved the Christmas Fair. Back in college he would go every year and walk along the closed-off streets glazed white with snow to watch the vendors and artists perfect their crafts. He now walked down Canal Street, one of the streets which bordered the Black Fall Canals where the yachts and schooners sailed. His own yacht was not far away, an enormous monster of a boat big enough to sleep forty people overnight. Eventually, he would go to that yacht for a nice Christmas party with his college friends and a few other bigwigs from around town, but before he did that he had an agenda to fill. In Jack’s left hand was a yellow stenographer pad, and on the first page of it a list of names: Baron Moreau, Damon Viscous, Karlie Davis, Tamba Shariati. These were the names of potential employees, and he had worked very hard to get them. He had spent the past two weeks probing the criminal underground with a stick, bribing and interrogating and beating the names of metahumans known in the criminal underground for their intellect and raw supernatural abilities, both of which he would need. He knew that he wouldn’t find Tamba here; being a patriarch of the metahuman fighting circuit, Jack knew that the boxing champion wouldn’t be caught dead at a street fair. The other ones, however, were a different story. The first one on the list was exceptionally interesting. He was a psychologist turned mercenary who was rumored to be the smartest man around. While Jack was fairly certain that Baron Moreau would not want to work for him, the possibility of meeting the world’s smartest man was too good to pass up. The other two were also rather intriguing; Damon was a hacker for hire while Karlie was, from what Jack’s intel gathered, some kind of shapeshifter, though there was very little intelligence on her. Subconsciously, Jack knew she was only on the list because someone showed him a picture of her. After walking down to the corner, Jack turned around towards a small crowd of people to see a stand of art, something not uncommon in the Christmas Fair. What was uncommon, though, was art that moved. Jack stared almost astoundedly as he realized that the drawings and paintings in the craft stand were infact all moving. Intrigued, he walked over to the stand and began to look across the walls at the pictures. A few portraits looked around and chatted towards each other, and what sounded like a motorcycle revved in one picture of an attractive biker girl. At the back of the booth was a small shelf on which canvas paintings of an angel sat stacked under a sign that read “the St.Michael Christmas Project”. Upon closer inspection, Jack realized that the angels were playing Christmas carols on their horns. He grinned and looked at the price tag; $150 a piece; no wonder they weren’t all gone. Jack looked up at the banner on the stand, which read “Inks and Things”. [i]So this must be a booth from the famous art shop on Eureka.[/i] he thought. “Hey! Buddy!” someone with a Brooklyn accent called. Jack wheeled around, surprised to see that the source of the voice was a portrait of a gruff-looking New Yorker on display in the booth. “You! With the silly hat!” It said. “Me?” Jack asked. “No, the other dummy with the bowler hat on!” the portrait snapped back. “What do you want?” Jack replied, somewhat irritably. “If you like these pictures, you could get a caricature made of yourself! Something tells me you like looking at yourself.” Jack raised an eyebrow and looked over at a stand next to the booth, where a man in his early twenties sat in front of an easel, drawing a picture of an attractive redhead. The line for the caricatures was somewhat long, mostly tourists, but no line was long when you had enough money. In less than five minutes he was sitting down on the stool in front of the easel. “Good evening.” The man behind the easel said. He was a short man of average girth with a beard reminiscent of a lumberjack’s and two of the kindest eyes Jack had ever seen. He had a slight smile on his face almost permanently, so it seemed, like he got a joke that no one else did. “So you’re the man behind the curtain, then?” Jack asked. The man chuckled as he rifled through a pencil case, trying to match up color’s with Jack’s wardrobe. Luckily, Jack was wearing mostly black, with a white collared shirt and a red J. Garcia Christmas tie. “I suppose one could say that.” he said, standing up to shake Jack’s hand “Name’s Robert Williamson. Call me Walt.” “Jack.” Jack responded as he shook the artist’s hand before sitting back down “Man, you must make a fortune off of these.” “Well if I said that I didn’t that would be a lie.” Walt said “But that’s the magic of simple computer imaging.” Walt was beginning to draw, starting with the outline. Jack smirked. “Oh please.” Jack said “You and I both know that none of that crap in that booth is computer-generated.” Walt couldn’t hide the dirty smirk. He looked as if he were a child who had been busted for taking the cookie from the cookie jar. Walter looked up from his drawing as Jack produced a large snowflake hovering above his right hand as if to say “it’s cool. Your secret’s safe with me.” “You’re an astute fellow, Jack.” Walt said, returning to his drawing “Might I ask, what’s your last name?” “Corvo.” Jack said with a slightly intimidating air. Walt raised his eyebrows. “Corvo, eh?” he said “That’s a powerful name for a meta. You’re not related to *those* Corvos, are you?” “We both know I can’t answer that question, Mr.Williamson.” Jack replied. “Walt, please.” he said “Mr.Williamson makes me feel like an old school teacher.” Jack laughed. “I know what you mean.” Jack replied. For a few moments there was silence as Walt drew. Before Jack spoke again, the outline of the body was done and the facial features were beginning to be added in. “So,” Jack asked “What else can those pictures of your’s do?” “What do you mean ‘what else do they do?’” Walt replied “They’re just pieces of art.” “They’ve gotta do something!” Jack said “What, do they turn 3D or something when commanded?” “Nope. They stay 2D.” Walt decided to change the subject “So a fan of card games I see.” Jack looked up at the brim of the hat. “Yeah.” Jack replied slyly “You could say that.” “Something tells me you’re a terrifying gambler.” Walt said. “You could say that also.” Walt smirked once more. About fifteen minutes later, the drawing was complete. It was drawn in pencil on a piece of thick cardstock-like paper about fourteen inches tall and ten wide. Jack was shocked at how similar it looked to himself. The suit was perfect, and the face, though it was reminiscent of Fr.Guido Sarducci, looked almost exactly like Jack thought he would look if he were a cartoon. Exactly everything was perfect, even the Jack of Hearts in his hat. In its right hand was a copy of a small book, and in the left, a playing card with only the back showing. Then it blinked and Jack nearly dropped it in surprise. “Well hey there beautiful!” the picture said. Jack laughed in delight and a big smile spread across Walter’s face. “Cool, isn’t it?” Walt said. “Fucking amazing!” Jack said “Thanks Walt!” “No problem, brother.” he said “You can take that the the cashier inside and ring it up. Stop by the studio one day and we can chat again. It’s been nice talking to you!” “Will do! See ya around, Walt!” Jack yelled over his shoulder as he reentered the booth and bought one of the angel paintings. He let the cashier keep the change. As Jack walked over to the yacht with his art in a bag and climbed on board to stow it away in the captain’s quarters. He would take both portraits back home and hang them up, but he was on the wrong side of Black Fall for that and by the time he got home and back it would be too late to do anything else. Five minutes later, Jack went off towards a nearby food vendor, waiting in line for a caramel apple which he gnawed at as he continued to walk around the fair, his eyes scanning the crowd for any of his targets. --- ` Eva Chilver ` Eva was also at the fair, in a different section and at a booth where there were scarves, hats, gloves, and belts being sold. Eva rifled through several boxes of scarfs, occasionally grabbing one that looked right and examining it closely until it was wrong again. Shopping for others was tough in itself, but of all people in the world, Selena Chilver was the hardest to buy clothes for. Selena would much rather wrap herself in leather and wolf skin than feel the warmth of a nice cotton blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Eva would commonly go shopping for Selena to try and “give her style” but it rarely worked. This time, however, Eva was being very, very patient. She came across a nice thin scarf with a leopard print, something which would compliment Selena’s current...wardrobe...well. Eva felt all giddy inside as she grabbed the scarf and ran over to Selena, who was standing nearby. She threw the scarf about her neck and stepped back to observe. “Perfect.” Eva said “You look fantastic! Plus, it's not real so we don't have to argue over it! What do you think, sis?”