#Lilia Bennett Hope & Wilt Bozer

[justmoreocs-writing]

One tiny mistake. That’s all it takes for a trick to go wrong, for it to lose its magic and the illusion to be completely upended. It’s one of the things Pat always tried to prepare me for: the inevitable mistake. He taught me that sometimes styling it out is the best way forwards, and that’s exactly what I still did.

I watch as Bozer holds the cards out to the rest of the team, trying to prove that they’re all different, that there’s no way he’s tampered with the deck. Jack takes them off him, flicks through them with a small smirk before handing them back. His attention skims back to me, back to see if I’m going to give anything away. This time, however, I refuse to.

The moment of distraction is all it takes for the trick to go slightly wrong though. Bozer hadn’t quite taken the cards back. The bottom one falls to the floor, unbeknownst to everyone in the room. Except for me. Bozer’s too lost in trying to remember the ins-and-outs of the trick; Jack’s looking for the lie; Mac’s watching with an analytical eye that, in reality, will spoil the whole thing, rob it of the entertainment value. But none of them are looking for a stray card, so it slips to the floor without notice.

Without thinking I shift to perch on the edge of Riley’s seat, putting my foot carefully over the card that’s escaped. As Bozer offers the cards out to Mac, to double check that they’re all different, I bend to scratch my ankle. I ease the card towards the edge of the seat, and use the cover of my other leg to slip the card up my sleeve.

‘Lilia?’ Bozer’s voice snaps my attention back to him.

I shoot him a bright smile, nod ever so slightly. He fans out the cards slowly, allowing me time to take in each one of them.

‘Got one?’

‘Oh yeah,’ I assure him, grinning as I sit a little further back on the arm of the chair. I feel Riley leaning forwards, her attention off the screen and onto the trick at hand for the first time since Bozer started.

Bozer coughs, makes a show of shuffling the cards. ‘Keep the card in your mind,’ he says, his attention on the cards more so than is strictly necessary. ‘Your thoughts alone will bring it to the top.’

Jack scoffs, and I throw him a sneer despite the laughter bubbling up inside me.

‘Is this your card?’ Bozer asks, flicking the top card up at us all.

Attention shifts to me, everyone eager to see if it’s worked. In reality, it has. The card that was right above mine is now at the top.

But I’ve changed the trick because of one simple mistake. Mean, not to tell Bozer, but he should have been paying closer attention himself.

‘No,’ I say, shaking my head solemnly in the hopes of not deflating Bozer too much. The opportunity had been too good to miss. ‘This one.’ I put my hand close to Jack’s head and flick the card from my sleeve; the illusion of plucking from the air complete in an instant.

‘How?!’ whines Bozer, deflating just a little as Mac’s attention skims between the two of us. Even Jack’s brow furrows.

‘A magician never reveals her secrets,’ I say haughtily.

‘Says you,’ teases Riley, gently nudging my back.

‘All right,’ corrals Matty, snapping our attention towards her as she enters the room, a file in her hand and the air of authority about her that assures me there’s work to be done. But there’s the barest flicker of a smile on her lips, a knowing look behind her eyes that assures me she’d seen the whole thing. She knew the secret of the trick, but she’s going to let them dwell on it when they have a spare moment rather than sharing the truth; going to let them chase their tails for a while before I cave and tell them everything.

[justmoreocs-writing]

Outfits are all part of the lie. A good disguise needs the right clothes to make it that little bit easier to inhabit for the liar, and then for the mark too. It’s all well and good an actor being able to sell the lie, but if someone claims to be a king but looks like a peasant, it’s far harder to get the mark on board with the little show. Clothes being a part of the misdirection, of the trick, was one of the first lessons Pat ever taught me, one my father had actually assisted with in the hopes that it wouldn’t go too far south in his eyes. Now, it felt more important than ever. This time, the lie could get someone killed; could cause more damage than if a simple trick didn’t work out the way it should have done.

‘Lilia?’ asked Bozer, drawing my attention away from the empty space of idle thought and to the present with a thump.

I made a sound of assent as I looked to him. He was pinning up the hem of my dress, making it that little bit more practical as a precaution.

‘Maybe stand still while I’ve got pins near you,’ he suggested, a vaguely teasing smirk dancing on his lips.

‘Where’s the danger in that?’ I countered, trying to clear my mind of memories.

‘This isn’t a dress for danger,’ he said, getting back to work.

I scoffed. ‘Not intentionally,’ I agreed. ‘But when isn’t this job dangerous?’

‘With you and Mac at the helm of it?’ he mused, adding another pin. ‘Never.’

‘Exactly,’ I said, smirking as I glanced up to meet my own reflection’s gaze. Whatever happened we needed to be prepared for danger, and Bozer knew that as well as the rest of us. He may have stumbled into this work – most of us had, in retrospect – but he’d learnt the lessons quickly enough. No matter our best intentions, danger was something that could creep up on you in an instant. There was no shying away from the threat of it, and I certainly wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.