The archive of the forgotten

unreal realtors

Hi, My name is Gustav and I remember being puzzled by the fact that I was different. I always felt like an outcast, like I was destined for more. Like I had this incredible potential that had not gotten exposed yet.
I was right, when I was eleven I got a letter from a raven. To my surprise it was from a school, a school for mages. My parents first thought it was some kind of prank till our house was flooded by letters again and again. It resembled the things I had read about Harry potter, I was the child that was destined to live the dream of every kid. I was a mage, I was cooler than anybody. Or at least I thought so for one whole summer, when I arrived there I found out I was not more than average.
And the magical world is more boring than you'd expect. It's preposterous that writers think the megical community would be stuck in the past. We can fucking make everything work! Why would't we use computers? We can even use the computer whilst others have a power outage. So if you ever see a light in a house during a power outage know that a mage lives there.

Anyway, as I was mildly average I needed to choose a suitable job. Others were destined to become professors, astrologers, part of the worldwide board, potion makers, or the real golden boys were destined to work in the working of the universe. Where you can arrange stars and everything. But I was average, even too average to become a doctor. (maybe I wasn't average I was simply.....bad. I always lose my way while teleporting. But hey I was raised by non mages, I even lose the way while driving a car with gps!) So I had two choices, magical encironmental lawyer or realtor (They did mention that we have a lengthened lifespan so maybe one day.....I'll be better?)
I chose the more exciting job of course.
I'm lying....
I'm a realtor (And not even a great one)

I walk into my office and look in the mirror as I put my hair in a bun. I hear a cough behind me and turn around. Startled by the blonde young man staring at me.
"Oh of course, that's why you wanted an evening appointment." I say with a smile. Vampires, the lack of humanity still creeps me out.
"That's offensive, we all have been humans." The vampire says with a french accent that may very well be fake. Shite I forgot they can read minds. I quickly cast a mind block.
"I don't appreciate how early you are not available anymore. You are limiting your market." The vampire says while standing up and shaking my hand. Revealing his beautiful edwardian suit.
"I am Guion Estiene Gaultier." He says. Okay.... his accent is not fake.
"I'm Jake smithsonian." I say with a slight smile. "What brings you to unreal realtors Mister Gaultier?" I ask with a smile while putting away some papers.
"I am looking for a lavish summer mansion now that I've reached the age that I can take the sun." Then why did he need an evening appointment I think in frustration.
"And what are your main wishes?" I ask while getting a notepad.
"I would like a stately home at least 200 years old, it doesn't matter if it needs some work, I have enough money for that. I only want aluminium mirrors, so that I can finally see myself in mirrors. I also need a spacy cellar and a wine cellar. I need a ballroom, I need to have at least two hidden rooms and it needs to have stables. It needs to be suitable for about three people." He says. I try not to sigh, vampires are almost always my most high matenainance clients, whether they sell a house or try to buy one.
"Noted Mister Gaultier, and what price are we looking at."
 "Doesn't matter." He says with a smile. As he standss up and shakes my hand.
"I'll call you back."
He nods and disappears, I startle from the wind of the fast movement. 

I walk out of my office and put the file on the table of my assistant.
Jackie the warlock walks up to me "Hey Jake, Hi jake come on please why don't we make a deal." He says with his stupid smirk.
"You know Jackie...." His smirk brightens. "This'll never work, I am not going to sell my soul, not even as a house alright?"
"You're no fun,"
"And you are cursed." I say while walking through the parking portals.

The next morning I drive to the next client. His name is Sylvester Fullinel and he is a.....character to say the least. He is a rather old mage who is selling his house to go live in the woods (Without a cabin invovled as far as I know) I am going to his house to inspect it and see how much I can ask for it. I stop in front of the small skewed house with its peculiar colours, lopsided built and random turret on the side. I frown, I thought he said he had sixteen rooms (only counting the bedrooms), that doesn't fit in this little building.