Johannes enjoyed his new job quite a bit.
The work was rewarding and just challenging enough to be interesting. His co-workers were pleasant, the pay was good, and it left him plenty of time to pursue his primary hobby.
What was more, in Cloverleaf, he and Adella didn’t have to hide. He didn’t have to keep a shop full of fabric and paper just in case someone wanted to see him making something. He didn’t have to Mask if he didn’t want to. He didn’t have to live in fear of a slip-up dooming both him and his sister. In Cloverleaf, people walked around un-Masked all the time. In Cloverleaf, if you said you were fae at the front gate, they asked you what your skills were.
Which was, incidentally, how Johannes had gotten his job. He’d been in the middle of the immigration paperwork when a red-headed woman had grabbed his hand. “You can Create. That’s what you said, right? Create and objects, and you can do cloth? Paper?”
“…yes.” The woman had the most phenomenal mink stole… no, it was her tail, wrapped around her leg.
“Good. I need a printing press. I hope you need a job.”
“…my sister.” He was not normally left this without words.
“We’ll find her a job too. You – you I have an immediate need for.” She’d hesitated for a moment, and then added, “I’ll throw in lodgings, a good two-bedroom house near work. But I really need you.”
Ad thus Johannes had found himself settled in a very nice office in a building called simply The Press, teamed with a woman whose power allowed her to take in the entire contents of a book and whose Words allowed her to download that information into someone else’s mind without utterly overwhelming them. Zayda didn’t talk much, but since she spent large portions of the day in Johannes’ brain, they didn’t need much conversation.
The most interesting part of their job came when the Press got its hands on a book – often borrowed-slash-requisitioned from new immigrants to the city. Zayda would absorb the text, and then Johannes would get the artistic task of reproducing the feel and heft of the book, although often in better shape than the original. There was a craftsmanship to it, and Johannes marked every book with their combined chop with pride and a sense of a job well done. The Press supplied both the Library and a book store, which, Johannes was given to understand, paid most of his salary.
The best part of his job, however, was that it gave him time to pursue his hobby, and it gave him plenty of practice with the Words he needed. In Cloverleaf, nobody thought it strange if he and Adella had a new outfit each day, or if Adella sold copies of their outrageous get-ups in her little shop. Indeed, a small, select group of people might know that he was one of the two people who made Cloverleaf’s money (as well as the city’s books) – but everyone knew him as the guy with the best clothes. And wearing a Johannes original was quickly becoming a status symbol in this little town.
Johannes was enjoying his new life quite a bit. And, on top of everything else, he got to make money.