champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between
With a date planned, entrance gained to the Spyglass and one sandal between them, Mateo can already say it has been quite a good night. And despite Charlie's hushed (not) amazement and the disapproving glances from the scholar, he nods enthusiastically in return, following her gaze up to the dome high above. "Yes," he whispers. "But we do not need to walk." Gesturing to a glass elevator and ushering her towards it, Mateo has never questioned the magic at work to get it to move so swiftly and smoothly to the observation deck.
And so he merely slips inside, drawing Charlie with him, and cranks the lever to the floor he wants. They rise promptly into the air, the scholars and shelves and books all shrinking away to nothing, until soon enough the very top of the Spyglass is opening to them. Up here it's understandably chilly, a strong wind blowing, but the sky is cloudless and the stars shine by the dozen down onto them.
And so he merely slips inside, drawing Charlie with him, and cranks the lever to the floor he wants. They rise promptly into the air, the scholars and shelves and books all shrinking away to nothing, until soon enough the very top of the Spyglass is opening to them. Up here it's understandably chilly, a strong wind blowing, but the sky is cloudless and the stars shine by the dozen down onto them.
