Information

Heritage_615
Legacy Name: Heritage_615

The Reborn Celinox
Owner: Hope

Age: 14 years, 10 months, 2 weeks

Born: June 23rd, 2009

Adopted: 12 years, 11 months, 5 days ago

Adopted: June 2nd, 2011

Pet Spotlight Winner
August 31st, 2012

Statistics

• Level: 26
   
• Strength: 58
   
• Defense: 55
   
• Speed: 55
   
• Health: 55
   
• HP: 55/55
   
• Intelligence: 1
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Store Clerk

Even under the shade of the umbrella, it was sweltering out there on the blacktop. Aileen absentmindedly pushed her foot against the rung of the stool beside her, causing it to tilt, while she sat perched atop hers, peering out at the people walking past. She wiped the sweat off her brow with her freckled hand, feeling the coolness of the silver ring on her finger hit her forehead, then she started fiddling with all the knobs on the old camera in front of her. When her parents came back from their walk around the market, she'd switch places with them and take her turn to look through all the stuff spread out around her.

Her parents were antique dealers, and ever since Aileen was little, they would close up their shop on the weekends and bring along some of their items to this flea market, arrayed out along the courtyard of one of the city's many public schools. Aileen had long ago learned how to get out the long folding table from the back of their van, put on the tablecloth, set up the shelves, arrange the various knickknacks and curios in the cupboard, and put the bigger pieces on the table for all the passers-by to see, nice and clear. Then she'd hike up the umbrella, set up the stools and cash register, and wait beside her parents for their first customer of the day.

Usually it would be another antique dealer, or one of the other market vendors. They would greet each other, chat politely, and then the wheeling and dealing would begin. The customer might point out some small flaw in the object of their desire, and then exaggerate it, to downplay its value and to try to get a better deal: "Shame there's a sizable chip in this plate. I'm not sure I even want it; it can't be worth that much. Still, it's not terrible, I guess I could find a use for it. I'll give you $20 for it."
Aileen's mother, who handled all the transactions, would protest: "I don't know what you're talking about, I don't see a chip! This is a perfectly fine piece of china here - Noritake-designed! It's been discontinued for ages - this is the Abelia pattern, you won't find this often. I won't take less than $40 for it."
Then the customer, knowing that to be a lie, would offer a rebuttal: "There is definitely a chip, right there! I suppose I could go up to $25."
"Make it $35 and we have a deal," her mother would retort.
"$30."
"$33."
"$31."
"$32, and that's my final offer," Aileen's mother would threaten, and this time she will mean it. Sensing that, the customer will take the offer, and both customer and seller will walk away happy.

By now, Aileen can bargain with the best of them, but her mom revels in it, whereas it still makes Aileen a little bit uncomfortable. "People are already getting such good deals! she thinks, "Do they have to talk everything down so much?" She just didn't like it. Yeah, she was totally okay with leaving the haggling to her mother.

Meanwhile, her father would be at the next booth, scouring through the other vendors' items, searching for a new piece to add to their shop - or one to buy for himself. He lived for the hunt: digging through junk until he was rewarded with a new prize. His favorite items to search for are old books; he has a pretty extensive collection of rare ones that are displayed in special cases in the family's living room, as proudly as awards. He likes the history behind them, he'll explain to anyone who will listen. He likes having a piece of the past right there in front of him.

In this regard (and in many others), Aileen takes after her father. As a child, she might have complained about having to spend her weekends there at the market, but truthfully, she loves it every bit as much as her parents did. There was always something new to discover! There were treasures all around her. You literally never knew what would show up next, week after week. The variety was staggering. Across from her booth, there was a woman selling handmade leather objects. Next to that one, there was a couple who sold vintage clothing. Across from them, a man sold African statues and masks, and behind him, there was a guy selling electronics. Old mixed with new mixed with homemade mixed with all that stuff you saw on commercials. It was a veritable jungle out there.

And Aileen loved it.

Her parents came back to take over the booth, and she set out to explore. There was always so much to look at, and she wanted to take it all in, for sure - but her eyes were always searching for two things in particular: old cameras, and vintage silver jewelry. Photography had always been a hobby of hers, and she loved the sturdiness of the old cameras, the weight of them - like they've survived all this time and will go right on surviving for many years to come. And just the thought of all they've captured - how many photographs were created by this device? How many lives were seen through the lens, and how many memories were forever caught in tiny moments, special enough to want to be remembered?

Distractedly, she twisted the ring on her middle finger, thinking about the history of things. Her ring was special to her, too, also because of its history: it was passed down to her from her mother, and her mother before her, and her mother before her. It was silver and shaped like the head of a lion, with two tiny dots for eyes. Once there had been two red rubies there - small as a pinprick - but now there was only one. Despite this tiny flaw, it remained her favorite item. It was a symbol of her place in her family; she treasured that because sometimes she questioned it. She had been adopted when she was just 20 months old, and while she knew in her heart that her adoptive parents were truly her family, she couldn't help sometimes having doubts about herself.

It was interesting; her adoptive parents actually looked a tiny bit like her in some ways - they shared some similar physical features. They were both Irish, and she herself was a good deal Irish - with the freckles, unruly hair, and Irish name to prove it - not to mention the fiery temper! Yet there was also an exotic tint to her looks that served as a reminder that she wasn't entirely the same. Her reddish hair was really more brown, and her skin wasn't fair but caramel-colored. Her eyes were the same color as her dad's - hazel - but they had a slight slant to them - more almond-shaped than her dad's. Her birth certificate had the words, "Irish", "Japanese", and "Ethiopian" on it, but she didn't know how much each culture represented in her genetic makeup. It was clear, though, that they gave her features that were just a bit different, and with these differences, sometimes she just felt...wrong. But that was only an occasional passing thought. When it occurred, she had a handy memento reminding her otherwise in the shape of her little lion ring.

Her ring is what started her obsession with vintage silver jewelry, too. When you were around antiques all the time, you were kind of forced to become a collector yourself, so for Aileen, it just made sense to go after the things that meant something to her, the things she just liked. The ring was the first piece, and since then, she had adopted hundreds more. She laughed at that thought. She was an adoptive parent, just like her parents. It beat the other name she jokingly gave herself: Hoarder. But really, she wasn't a hoarder. She was just a collector - a collector of history. All the mixed-up pieces sat on shelves all around her room to create something amazing - bits of history remade; their past only added to their beauty.

jun. 2, 2011
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