A Flat Circle - Roland

You're getting close to your apartment, a block away, when you notice the usual night-time crowds have melted away. You don't live in a crowded neighbourhood, sure, but Vegas is only every quiet for an hour around dawn.
The streetlamps seem to have uneasy halos and the sky, always bereft of stars this far into the city, is perfectly black. The outlines of the walls and curbs fuzz and blur.

And a woman with wide, round-framed glasses, fine dreadlocks, and an expensive suit steps from an alleyway ahead of you. Her skin seems almost blue-black in the eerie light.

"Crazy night, huh?" she says, curious, smiling.
 
Roland stopped short, and he didn't need his magic to know that this was a sketchy situation. Whoever this woman was, she obviously knew a few things she wasn't supposed to.

Settling to a casual stance that coincidentally brought his hand close to the arm holster for his gun, Roland eyed the woman with suspicion. "Can I help you, ma'am?" He asked. Politely.
 
She shrugs.
"Could be, but I think I can help you more." Her smile broadens to a grin. "You're off the map now, buddy - and here be dragons."
 
"I think I have most things well in hand, thank you." He said. "So, what's your angle? Do you always approach strange men in the middle of the night? Think of what your mother would say."
 
Hands on her hips, she looks over the rim of her glasses with disapproval that reminds you of a schoolteacher.
"Condescension'll get you killed, pal. You are lucky I found you first - been all lit up like a bonfire to anyone with the Sight."
 
Okay, so that was her game. She was like him, someone who saw the Truth. The question now was, what did she want? She wasn't immediately hostile, otherwise the smart thing to do would have been to ambush him. Maybe she was just dumb? Unlikely.

Her earlier allusion to an offer of help fresh in his mind, Roland met her disapproving gaze with a skeptical look of his own. "Alright then. What's your offer?" He asked.
 
"A job offer, if you like," she said, her smile creeping back. "You're going to get a lot of those, but trust me - we've got the best package," she added, glancing around.
"Think we could continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable? It's likely to take awhile and I'm in no mood to chat with someone from across the aisle."
 
Honestly this whole setup was weird, but then again his standard for weird went out the window when it started tugging at the heartstrings of reality. He had his gun and he had his wits about him, and that was all he ever needed in the past get himself out of trouble. The magic gave him a new edge, but possibly one he couldn't rely on if she was also a wizard.

"Sure." He said, deciding to take a chance. "There's a 24 hour dinner down the street. We can talk there."
 
"Good enough," she says, "if not the most secure. A few Sleepers can be as good as a ward."
She gestures expansively, "lead on, mighty wizard."
 
Roland couldn't tell if she was being humorous or just trying (poorly) to play on his ego. He decided to assume the former, for now.

With red leather sets and checkered floor, the dinner he lead her to was something straight out of the fifties in the decor, which was an intentional design choice on the part of the owners as a part of the retro vibe they were going for. There was even a jukebox with actual vinyl records playing music in the background.

As it was late in the evening, there was only a skeleton crew of staff, but there were enough there that they could act as deterrents to a direct attack. And were apparently "sleepers" or whatever. Roland wasn't sure what that meant, but he could ask later.

Sitting down and ordering a cup of coffee when the waitress came by, he waited for the mystery woman to give her own order before inviting her to continue on her sales pitch. "So if we're going to discuss business, an exchange of names might be useful. Given how easily you seemed to have found me, I'm going to assume you already know mine." He said.
 
She orders a slice of apple pie and a hot chocolate, then as the waitress moves away holds up a finger.
"Here's something important, in good faith: names have power," she says, "you can call me Liberty - I suggest you keep your real name to yourself."
 
"I'm guessing this is some kind of wizard rule?" He asked, taking a sip from his coffee. "Anything else I should know?" Flippancy aside, that was useful to know, and made her seem a little less sketchy.
 
Her lips curl in a smirk that fades to a thin smile.
"It's a rule, certainly. Of the universe," she says, "you've heard the saying 'knowledge is power'? Damned right it is; the more you know about something, the more you can affect it. Letting someone know your name is like handing them a bullet meant just for you."
 
"Fair enough." Roland said, trying to recall anything he could about magic. Sadly his main source was old fantasy novels, but hopefully there were some nuggets of truth hidden in them. "Since you went thought all this trouble to track me down, I suppose it would be rude of me to keep side tracking things. So. Why go through all this effort for me?" He asked, hopeing Liberty would explain why she was here.
 
"Think of me as a recruiter," she says. "The Consilium-you might think of them as the local wizard council," she grins, "rely on me to watch out for newly Awakened. Dangerous stuff, magic, and to use it without training, well..." She lets that hang.
 
"And you want to, what? Recruit me, train me to use my magic?" At face value, that seemed like something that could be useful. But...

"What's the catch?" He asked. Nothing came for free, and handing out the ability to use magic with greater proficiency had to have a big price tag attached.
 
"Work," she replied. "You've got to pull your weight for the community. We're stronger together - even if not everyone will be convinced of that."
 
"That's... fair." On the surface, at least. "What kind of 'work' would I be doing?" Roland asked. He had his own agenda, and he wasn't about to commit to anything that could undermine that without good reason.
 
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