Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Printable Version
+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Archives (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=72)
+--- Forum: Incomplete (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=85)
+--- Thread: Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books (/showthread.php?tid=491)
+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Archives (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=72)
+--- Forum: Incomplete (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=85)
+--- Thread: Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books (/showthread.php?tid=491)
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Angel Kimmi - 08-17-2015
Zakiel was silent for a short while watching his surroundings. Mildly amazed when he saw the two from earlier re-emerge momentarily down the stairs from the corner of his eye before they also disappeared in the general direction Elijah and the man-eater had gone. Towards the kitchen he imagined. Had he seen right? He’d thought he’d glimpsed a black tail for a moment, but perhaps it was an accessory, people liked to wear cat accessories at conventions and things right? Was it always so bizarre in this bookstore he wondered, or was it perhaps normal and he was the unusual one? Still despite the shop’s many idiosyncrasies the place was welcoming and there was many more books than people, which was generally his preference. He could live here amongst the shelves quite happily if given a chance. It wouldn't be the first time - Zakiel lost complete track of many things when absorbed in a book and there had been more than half a dozen occasions he had been locked up overnight inside a bookstore or library.
His fingers automatically made their way to his left ear. Fingertips smoothing across silver that adorned the ear, toying absently the earrings as pale blonde strands curled slightly at the nape of his neck and part way down his back. A slight curl apparent now that the strands were beginning to dry much like his clothing from the warmth within the establishment.
He stood there with a faint smile as the young woman whistled and hummed to herself from behind the counter. It was a pleasant and energetic sound. He did think of leaving Rhys to her quiet humming when she didn’t answer immediately though she ceased suddenly with an irritated sigh. Perplexed he watched her, wondering if he had upset her with his interruption only for her to speak in such an irritated manner once more in another language.
The surprised look that was then directed towards him afterwards though negated any thought that it may have been his fault, so instead he answered her question. Hesitant though still far more comfortable with the established space the desk enforced between them for now, "Well…that is, I wondered if perhaps I could take you up on your previous offer and whether you had a mop. I think I have made various trails of water all over the floor…I am surprised that woman didn’t end up slipping over.”
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 08-18-2015
Jean made a sound that was very nearly a snort, though he restrained the undignified and unattractive sound, slender fingers draping over the lower half of his face. Too slender, in fact, to hide the twist of his mouth, the flash of sharp teeth as he fought an ever-widening grin. He hated that she knew she was funny. «Graverobbers and witches,» he insisted. «They were a serious problem! My cock would have been worth a fortune, I will have you know. What if it grew back looking strange? I could never show my face again. Or, rather, only my face, which would have been just as bad.»
Were their conversations always this silly? Worse, probably. They really shouldn't have been doing this in public. He had a reputation to maintain.
«Keep your money and your horses,» he said with a wave of his hand, nevermind that he was the one who'd brought it up. «You were always much more fond of doing filthy things with something of that size between your legs. Let alone twelve of them.» He shrugged, with a little more of a flourish to his wrist than was probably entirely necessary. «I am not ashamed to admit that I am out of practice,» he added, as if it made him the bigger man to say he did not share her insatiable lust for horse dick.
«I am an excellent student,» he insisted. «While I learned all manner of things about your methods, I simply do not have the time or the budget for them. How would I ever have time to sell anything? Perhaps I am too slow to swallow.» He huffed. «You are a barge. Barging is what you do. I am an excellent man, of business. I have many satisfied customers. Satisfying customers is practically all that I do. Day and night, satisfaction. Simply because I do not cater to your hideous tastes does not mean my business is terrible.»
Jean tsked at Elijah again, but this time said nothing. First and foremost because Elijah had never understood that sort of thing – not with Alisdair, either, with whom Jean had quarreled constantly to the point of occasionally accidentally killing one another. Secondly because Rylan seemed terribly distressed, as well as the sulfurous thing clawing at her insides. It was only a few long steps to be by her side, leaning down to place his lips by her ear. "My apologies," he murmured. "Did we distress you? We will try not to do it again." His gaze lifted though he did not stand, raising an eyebrow at Elijah. "Yes?" he said, for his benefit and not hers.
"And do excuse my conversation," he added, quickly and even lower though all present could probably hear him anyway. Such irritating company, making it so difficult to gossip. "An old acquaintance, you understand, from when I was, ah. Young. Oui?" Hardly young, barely that long ago. Even Elijah he had not met when he was young, though Elijah had known him, unrequited. It was still as good an excuse as any for why the tone would be so different from what was now his norm. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, hopefully reassuring, before his attention was drawn back to Phee.
«They have to dress sometime,» he said as he made his way back to the redhead, «or else I will never have anything to take off of them, and what is the fun in that? It is a very pretty dress. I fear you will have to settle for admiring, because most of this house seems possessed of the most peculiar preference for cock. Or at least, one cock in particular. Even that boy at the desk, I think, and I have not even offered him any. You may try with passerotta, if it pleases you, but I make no promises as to your success.» He did not make any such offers with Rylan, though Rhys and Rylan both were likely to be equally displeased by his comment. He did not think she would actually attempt to seduce either, but Rhys seemed less… suggestible.
Jean took the bottle from her without asking, glancing at the label. «Terrible,» he said, despite having not looked at it long enough to actually read anything. Rather than get a corkscrew, he used the nails of his left hand to pierce the cork and pull it free, tossing it on the counter and handing her bottle back. «Shall we bother with the pretense of a glass?» he asked. «Some of us have matured in our old age, Phee. I read books, now. And also sell them. And other such things, as befit my wizened dignity.»
Were their conversations always this silly? Worse, probably. They really shouldn't have been doing this in public. He had a reputation to maintain.
«Keep your money and your horses,» he said with a wave of his hand, nevermind that he was the one who'd brought it up. «You were always much more fond of doing filthy things with something of that size between your legs. Let alone twelve of them.» He shrugged, with a little more of a flourish to his wrist than was probably entirely necessary. «I am not ashamed to admit that I am out of practice,» he added, as if it made him the bigger man to say he did not share her insatiable lust for horse dick.
«I am an excellent student,» he insisted. «While I learned all manner of things about your methods, I simply do not have the time or the budget for them. How would I ever have time to sell anything? Perhaps I am too slow to swallow.» He huffed. «You are a barge. Barging is what you do. I am an excellent man, of business. I have many satisfied customers. Satisfying customers is practically all that I do. Day and night, satisfaction. Simply because I do not cater to your hideous tastes does not mean my business is terrible.»
Jean tsked at Elijah again, but this time said nothing. First and foremost because Elijah had never understood that sort of thing – not with Alisdair, either, with whom Jean had quarreled constantly to the point of occasionally accidentally killing one another. Secondly because Rylan seemed terribly distressed, as well as the sulfurous thing clawing at her insides. It was only a few long steps to be by her side, leaning down to place his lips by her ear. "My apologies," he murmured. "Did we distress you? We will try not to do it again." His gaze lifted though he did not stand, raising an eyebrow at Elijah. "Yes?" he said, for his benefit and not hers.
"And do excuse my conversation," he added, quickly and even lower though all present could probably hear him anyway. Such irritating company, making it so difficult to gossip. "An old acquaintance, you understand, from when I was, ah. Young. Oui?" Hardly young, barely that long ago. Even Elijah he had not met when he was young, though Elijah had known him, unrequited. It was still as good an excuse as any for why the tone would be so different from what was now his norm. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, hopefully reassuring, before his attention was drawn back to Phee.
«They have to dress sometime,» he said as he made his way back to the redhead, «or else I will never have anything to take off of them, and what is the fun in that? It is a very pretty dress. I fear you will have to settle for admiring, because most of this house seems possessed of the most peculiar preference for cock. Or at least, one cock in particular. Even that boy at the desk, I think, and I have not even offered him any. You may try with passerotta, if it pleases you, but I make no promises as to your success.» He did not make any such offers with Rylan, though Rhys and Rylan both were likely to be equally displeased by his comment. He did not think she would actually attempt to seduce either, but Rhys seemed less… suggestible.
Jean took the bottle from her without asking, glancing at the label. «Terrible,» he said, despite having not looked at it long enough to actually read anything. Rather than get a corkscrew, he used the nails of his left hand to pierce the cork and pull it free, tossing it on the counter and handing her bottle back. «Shall we bother with the pretense of a glass?» he asked. «Some of us have matured in our old age, Phee. I read books, now. And also sell them. And other such things, as befit my wizened dignity.»
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 08-22-2015
"Yes, I'm sure," she replied, forcing a smile and ignoring Elijah's raised brow. She assumed he was only tending to her to make a show of being pleasant to please Jean. Which was completely fine with her since she preferred it to the way he usually just glared or spoke as if she wasn't there. Several spoonfuls of sugar were deposited into the mug to the point where it was questionable whether she was interested in the actual coffee. Rylan still didn't look at Elijah as she traded the sugar for cream, but Sshe opened her mouth as if she would say something, but closed it when he began talking to Miss Rhodes. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, smothering whatever she had been about to say. Jean was at her side in an instant when he and Elijah were done speaking in not-quite-tongues that hurt her ears. His sudden appearance caused her to startle, having not expected him to bother paying any attention to her at the moment. Apologies against her ears caused them to twitch involuntarily against his cheek. "It’s okay," she said, ears pushing forwards, tail falling to sway nearer to her knees. "I'm fine." She didn't look at Jean either, focused on her coffee instead, bringing it to her lips as he kissed her temple.
He was gone as quickly as he'd come, and Rylan continued drinking her coffee, trying not to focus on the way Adelphie was actively talking about her now. She risked a glance to the redhead, cautiously throwing her gaze over her shoulder, only to find the other woman admiring as Jean had suggested she do. She turned away, ears pinning back.
"Elijah," she said softly, setting her cup back on the counter, lacing her fingers atop the intricate granite. "Can I... can I ask you something?"
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 08-26-2015
Adelphie was actively grinning since she felt no need to hide her amusement. She did indeed know she was funny. Hilarious even, and if he wanted to pretend otherwise then so be it. «You would probably cut it off again,» she deadpanned, as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to say. It might have been if you were accustomed to Jean's penchant for vanity.This time she gasped. Red-painted lips forming a perfect 'o,' blue eyes wide around the edges. One hand pressed against her chest, the perfect picture of someone who had been thoroughly scandalized, but she still emitted only genuine amusement. «How dare you,» she breathed, turning her face away from him, haughty nose in the air. «How can you even say such a thing in the presence of such delicate ladies?» The maenad herself was far from being a lady, and Rylan was not even involved in the conversation enough to really be catered to; these details did nothing to stop her.
«As if you truly have time to sell anything, now?» The house was not as full as it could have been, but that did not mean it wasn't still teeming with all manner of other things to do, and Jean had always been so easily distracted. She could only grin at his huff. Indignant as always; adorable even. «It wasn't barging,» she was very adamant. «I'm sure you would have invited me, had you not gone through the trouble of forgetting me. Here I am trying to reconnect with a dear friend and all you can do is insult me.» She pushed hair over her shoulder, melodramatic as she was, behaving as if her quips had not been equally scornful.
«They do not,» she countered, sounding astonishingly sure of herself. «Undressing them every time is tedious. So much energy wasted.» Adelphie sounded off a tsk of her own. Hard to resist when they were so easily being thrown around the room. If he was so sure that she would have to settle for admiring her, than she certainly wasn't going to waste the opportunity. She watched the little cat over her shoulder as she listened to Elijah not bother to accept her apology. When Rylan glanced back at her she grinned, doing nothing to hide her delight in the way silver ears immediately responded. Only half-listening to Jean as he tried to convince her that his house guests were only interested in him, she turned back when he mentioned a passerotta.
She could only assume that was the girl she had passed near the front of the store; all coffee with cream, and hints of vanilla. Adelphie narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips as if she was mulling over his offer. «No,» she said suddenly, the word clipped as she waved her hand. «I would much rather try my hand at the cat. I can be very convincing,» she explains, only confirming the one thing he'd been worried about to start.
She frowned when he took the bottle from her. «It's wonderful. You will love it,» she countered, not even bothering to be offended and watching the way he effortlessly removed the cork. He had always been one to show off in any way he was able. How convenient to not be poisonous. «I don't need a glass if I'm not sharing.» She perked a brow at him, still pointing the open bottle in his direction like she was trying to tempt a reformed alcoholic. Adelphie was older than he by a few centuries, but he had always tried to behave as if he was the one who was more dignified when he was really anything but. «Because it sounds like you're too busy selling books, and being wise and mature to share a drink with me.»
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Blade - 08-26-2015
At this point Elijah was all but ignoring the conversation behind him; at the very least, he was pretending to ignore it. He was good at ignoring things that he would eventually have to clean up after and pretend had never happened. Why? Because he cared too much about one man and Elijah was sinfully one-sided and hypocritical about in a way he didn’t acknowledge.He also ignored the tsking, the scolding, because Elijah was the last person Jean should be waving a finger at for behavioral faux pas. Not that Elijah would ever say as much in front of company--hadn't in a few hundred or so centuries; anyway, he wouldn’t ever now, but it loitered in his mind all the same. He didn’t even roll his eyes and instead focused on refilling his coffee cup well enough to warm the liquid within.
Truly, it wasn’t even the banter that barely resembled the way in which Jean had fought with Alisdair that bothered him; he’d heard worse in the presence of his master and worse still between Jean and the on-again-off-again Scottish beaux. No, Alisdair bothered him when Jean’s feelings made Elijah feel like razor wire was being wrested through his insides. Elijah, for all his muttering and eyesrolls, preferred Jean happy even if Elijah had to clean up after him and pretend to ignore the cleaning up, or the tossing of women on doorsteps. And as of late, as of recent, his master hardly resembled being one of whole happiness for very valid reasons.
But in the end, clipped words were merely another way to express and direct his anger at being a called a pet. It was something he would get over soon enough, but perhaps not for a little while longer as he was wont to do.
When Jean went back to The Red Witch Elijah took a sip of his coffee, eyes shutting behind clear round lenses. It was then The Cat asked him a question. He took his time looking down and over at her as both brows rose. It occurred to him he had grown tired of lingering in the kitchen. Jean was, once again, distracted with another pretty face. So Elijah gave a gentle sigh and said to Rylan, “You may. Though, I believe I would much prefer that you do so elsewhere.” And so, he offered her his arm as it was the most polite thing to do, and as Rylan hadn’t technically done anything rude aside from make his master feel things he didn’t like, and because he was nothing if not customarily cordial. “Join me?” He asked next, coffee in his other hand.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 08-26-2015
«I would never,» he said, scandalized. «Ah, but, maybe. It would not be a small price to pay, but it might be worth it.» This did not mean much from a man who would set himself on fire to burn away a bare scalp and grow his hair back more immediately. And who had. She did not know that, however, and he'd been very young at the time.
Though he had not always taken as good of care of his hair as he did now, he had never been one to tolerate baldness. He had limits.
«I have no use for delicate ladies,» he said, «when anatomy dictates that my affections can only possibly be so gentle.» This was not entirely true, of course, but he'd never been one to shy away from low-hanging fruit. She knew perfectly well that if she was going to keep giving him openings, he was going to keep taking them. So to speak. «I would hardly call you delicate, and I would not know where to begin with lady. Sturdy, perhaps. Robust. As you must be, of course, else you would never survive the horses.»
«I would be selling all manner of things,» he asserted, probably falsely, «if you were not here distracting me.» His nose twitched, because at its size he could not risk a crinkle, entirely too expressive and undignified. «You know how absentminded we pretentious fuckwits can be,» he said, lapsing momentarily back to English for precision. «Nonetheless, it can hardly be said to be my fault. I was briefly and tragically deceased, and a man cannot help but lose track of a few things under the circumstances.»
He did not miss the way her attention turned to Rylan, not yet entirely welcome. Yet. «It does not go to waste, I assure you,» he said, and he was being very literal even if she was not. He narrowed his eyes as she came to her decision, though he doubtless had only himself to blame. «I recall very well your manner of convincing,» he said, «and I will not have you employing your cheap tricks and ruining all my hard work.» The manner of his 'hard work', and what exactly he had been working for, all went unsaid. As far as Rylan was concerned, he was still rather… in the middle of things. So to speak. As it were. He wasn't done yet. Truly he did find her methods somewhat distasteful, and not only because they were so much simpler than his own careful manipulations.
«I am entirely too busy,» he agreed, even as he left her side to find his wine glasses. «It is not even evening, yet, nor have we had dinner. I can hardly expect my customers to take me seriously if I try to assist them with the stink of cheap wine about me.» Nothing about Phee was ever cheap, but that had never stopped him from claiming otherwise. «I shall not be letting you pour,» he informed her, «because I would like for the wine to remain within glass, and for the glasses to remain upright.» He took the bottle from her, pouring for the both of them a glass which most would consider standard and which Phee would consider unspeakably modest. His reach being longer than her own, he set the bottle down on the counter further than she was able to reach.
Though he had not always taken as good of care of his hair as he did now, he had never been one to tolerate baldness. He had limits.
«I have no use for delicate ladies,» he said, «when anatomy dictates that my affections can only possibly be so gentle.» This was not entirely true, of course, but he'd never been one to shy away from low-hanging fruit. She knew perfectly well that if she was going to keep giving him openings, he was going to keep taking them. So to speak. «I would hardly call you delicate, and I would not know where to begin with lady. Sturdy, perhaps. Robust. As you must be, of course, else you would never survive the horses.»
«I would be selling all manner of things,» he asserted, probably falsely, «if you were not here distracting me.» His nose twitched, because at its size he could not risk a crinkle, entirely too expressive and undignified. «You know how absentminded we pretentious fuckwits can be,» he said, lapsing momentarily back to English for precision. «Nonetheless, it can hardly be said to be my fault. I was briefly and tragically deceased, and a man cannot help but lose track of a few things under the circumstances.»
He did not miss the way her attention turned to Rylan, not yet entirely welcome. Yet. «It does not go to waste, I assure you,» he said, and he was being very literal even if she was not. He narrowed his eyes as she came to her decision, though he doubtless had only himself to blame. «I recall very well your manner of convincing,» he said, «and I will not have you employing your cheap tricks and ruining all my hard work.» The manner of his 'hard work', and what exactly he had been working for, all went unsaid. As far as Rylan was concerned, he was still rather… in the middle of things. So to speak. As it were. He wasn't done yet. Truly he did find her methods somewhat distasteful, and not only because they were so much simpler than his own careful manipulations.
«I am entirely too busy,» he agreed, even as he left her side to find his wine glasses. «It is not even evening, yet, nor have we had dinner. I can hardly expect my customers to take me seriously if I try to assist them with the stink of cheap wine about me.» Nothing about Phee was ever cheap, but that had never stopped him from claiming otherwise. «I shall not be letting you pour,» he informed her, «because I would like for the wine to remain within glass, and for the glasses to remain upright.» He took the bottle from her, pouring for the both of them a glass which most would consider standard and which Phee would consider unspeakably modest. His reach being longer than her own, he set the bottle down on the counter further than she was able to reach.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 08-29-2015
Regardless of words to the contrary, Rylan's comfort level with the conversation was becoming less than fine. Points of it were starting to involve her, and those were much harder to ignore than other things. In a word she bristled. Her tail puffed, the fur standing all on end, noticeable even as she curled it against her spine to hide the change. She sipped coffee to obscure the way her copper skin was darkening with the first appearances of a blush.
Emerald eyes watched Elijah over the rim of the mug for something to do. The redhead's apologies had done nothing to ease the set of his jaw or the downturned corners of his mouth. Ears fell lopsided, as she resisted the urge to turn around again, very aware of the sets of eyes on her back. She was careful not to show any pleasure from Jean's show of being slightly possessive of her, no notion that she was curious to what sort of project he considered her, forgetting that it mattered little with how easily emotions could be read around the room.
When Elijah settled magenta oculars on her, she felt her ears pin back automatically. There was less animosity in his gaze than usual, so no real reason for her to easily fall into submissionl but by now it was unwanted habit. They pressed forward again as her sights dropped to the arm he offered her. "It would be a pleasure," she heard herself say without real provocation. Ingrained court manners bubbling to the surface in the presence of other polite gestures. It was by no means a peace offering, but she set her coffee upon the counter and linked her arm through his without the usual stiffness of her discomfort. The material of his suit was soft where her fingertips brushed against his forearm.
"Where to?" she asked, even though she was sure he would lead when ready. She placed her other hand atop the one on his arm. It drew her form closer to his side, but kept the appendage from hanging awkwardly at hers. Despite a lack of affection, it would be a shame to ruin the pretty pair they made.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Hobo_Bob - 08-29-2015
Rhys liked to think herself a little difficult when it came to the wants of others. Doing what pleased her most and rarely letting herself be taken advantage of. At least, that's what she liked to think of herself. The actuality of it was she changed with the wind when attached to someone. And having Jean as her muse was both irritating and interesting.
She adored the man, loved the home he kept full of her half-brothers and sisters. Yet when there was the roudy ones that would not hush long enough so when someone spoke to her she did not hear them over their shouting, it was enough to drive anyone to be upset. It had only just happened now. With the same book from before. Screaming a shrek none else would hear.
And lucky for said few in the shop, they would not hear.
"Ahhh....signore, pardone. But eh...the mop? Is niente. Nothing? Come, the water she dries. And-..." thinking a moment on how to phrase her words, she let her gentle smile turn a little devilish, "...Malocchio..."
A knowing smirk, before she smiled and moved out from behind the desk.
"Come, I show you the books, si? I speak to them, and maybe we catch what you need." her hand immediately went to grasp his, but something gave her pause. Elijah was returning to the front room, and she did not want him to pester her late for her constant touching or grasping people as she was want to do. His evil eye was perhaps the worst to get rid of, no charm could protect or remove whatever it was that gave him his strength. So, instead, she tapped the desk beside his arm and offered hers to him with her best attempt to keep him relaxed as she waited to see if he would join her.
Where? Well, he didn't need to know that right now.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Blade - 09-15-2015
Pretending he didn’t listen, wasn’t listening, was the talent for even the most proud of would-be valets; it was a talent for anyone who kept up after someone else or their home. And so Elijah went on pretending very well while he focused on The Cat and her reactions to the chat behind them. He didn’t even move to get the wine glass for his master ahead of him—surely a sin for someone who had grown accustomed to dressing a man and taking care of him for well over a few centuries. But, Elijah was feeling decidingly crass and bold because of the insult. It was, in a way, far too near the deeper parts of his true nature than he allowed more often than naught.Thus, it was no real surprise—and he felt no ill will—when Rylan took his arm and he silently led her out of the room without a polite announcement of his departure. He was bored, he was irritated, and the kitchen was becoming unsightly.
After they escaped the kitchen and then the hallway into the main living space, he avoided the piles of books—the overrun shelves of them—and led The Cat to a corner with a curtained window. More books covered a love seat and coffee table.
“I apologize,” he said matter-o-factly; not because he was truly sorry, but because it was thing to say when a mess presented itself. “Give me a moment.” He set his coffee down on a small space on one of the many bookshelves, releasing her arm in the process, and then moved to begin cleaning up. Books were stacked on more books on the floor and wherever else they would agreeably go. He cleaned them from both the coffee table and the love seat.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 09-16-2015
She certainly hadn't sought him out after centuries to continue his uncanny penchant for dick jokes. Horse or otherwise. «Are you quite finished,» she asked, rolling her eyes, before baby blue orbs cut to the side to watch as Rylan and Elijah left their company. Adelphie could only shrug, but didn't bother to look apologetic; she didn't really have time for it. She would have to look that way constantly with how good she was at offending people. «He is very prickly,» she pointed out when the pair disappeared around the corner. Even though it did not mean they were out of earshot. «Could it have been something I said?» she asked with a smug smirk.
«You weren't selling anything when I arrived,» she replied matter-of-factly, russet brows lifting towards her bangs. She tilted back in the chair as if she would be able to see the would-be bookstore from the kitchen. She could not, but she looked cute doing it. Not that she was attempting to look cute for René Jean, but one should take the opportunities when they were presented. «Books of all things,» she began again ignoring the part where she may have insulted him earlier, and another complaint about being dead. As if he was the only one. «Such a strange choice for a depressive bit of hording.»
«I don't see what that matters,» she mumbled, mostly to herself as he continued to talk. «Are you offering dinner?» Still muttering as he continued to lecture, but she was now eyeing the remaining scones that had been left from breakfast. She'd didn't require food for sustenance, but that didn't stop her from enjoying it. Scones certainly weren't what she would have had in mind.
"Cheap wine," Adelphie repeated, voice pitched higher and she looked positively alarmed - suddenly participating in the conversation again. "I don't know what sort of company you have been keeping in my absence, but they sound appalling." She had returned to English, because she did so loathe speaking French for too long. All those terrible throaty consonants did not please her. So many other tongues, that sounded so much nicer, in her opinion. She took the glass closest to her when he had finished pouring, she held it at eye level and frowned. She took a sip, narrowing her eyes at the bottle he'd left out of her reach. "I am a perfectly functioning alcoholic. Really, when have you ever seen me spill something." She took another sip, a small once since apparently she was rationing her beverages. Lipstick the same color as the wine remained perfectly intact as if to prove a point.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Angel Kimmi - 09-17-2015
Zakiel was becoming somewhat fixated on the state of the floor. Aquamarine eyes focusing and lingering on the lines of water and small puddles. He really was curious how the woman had managed to traipse through without slipping onto her bottom, but perhaps it was merely luck. Of course, it would have been just as likely to trip over a pile of precariously piled books - something else he would have been quite happy to work on rectifying if given a chance, but for now he was fixated on the water. Especially when he noticed a new puddle was beginning to form as water dripped from his clothing to the floor beneath him.His attention once more was drawn upwards, snagged by the mixture of English and…some European language. He opened his mouth to protest the fact that the water would dry. What if someone tripped and fell…or if the water got onto the books – considering that they were piled up on the ground. “I…really should clean up… the water could get on the books.”
He seemed distraught at the idea of being responsible for such a thing though he blinked at the word that she used, uncertain of the meaning and he echoed it back to her with less than accurate pronunciation. “Malocchio? What is that?” He asked as she approached him though he was a little less on edge than the last time she approached him, more curious than intimidated. It also helped that she wasn’t cornering him amongst the too narrow and too frequent shelves and piles of books.
“I…but…the water…and I am,” he said hesitantly as he glanced behind him and then at the floor at his feet, fingers toying with his earrings absently. Zakiel didn’t back up this time when she approached though he did notice the hand stopped before it reached him. Watching Rhys quietly as he bit his bottom lip, his own expression a mix between shyness and uncertainty.
“You speak to them? I’m not really sure what I need though…” he said as he finally reached out, resting his fingers against her arm. “I just…really love books.”
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Hobo_Bob - 10-01-2015
He was persistent in his need to clean up his own mess. True, Rhys did wonder too how the books would feel about getting wet and she did nothing to stop them from getting into that condition. Perhaps would complain more than they already do, seeing as they were on the floor. "Si si.....the water she gets dry, but eh-....Yes, Elijah will clean." She explained as the man himself made an entrance again with Ryland. Jean's new feline friend. The pair went off on their own to converse and Rhys looked away to the guest she was standing with.
And his worry of the puddles.
It would be a long while - it seemed - before Elijah could or even would pick up the mess. So, she decided to do what the guest wanted and take care of his mess first. He had laid his hand on her arm and a second later, she pulled away, waving both hands to give him pause. "La la la....si si. I pick up the water, okay?" her smile was as cheerful as it always was as she leaned over the desk while he asked his confused question. The Malocchio was not something he would know, and so of course there would be no reason for him to. She thought of a way to respond, but decided against it for now.
Her hands tried to grasp something from the other side. Knowing that she was not being very professional in her antics but not caring enough to make amends. All the while she acted as if to get something, she conjured up a few towels. It was an easy thing to do. Write the towels into the already existing scene was not really magic, seeing as they were simply towels. But knowing a certain someone it would not be viewed so lightly.
Rhys settled herself back down at the guests side and carefully unwrapped one of the three towels she had brought up. She smoothly threw it up and settled it down around his shoulders before releasing it to his care. "Okay?" smiling gently, she held a hand up to give the 'okay' sign with her left hand.
With him taken care of, she set to laying the other two towels on floor to soak up the water. It was not a perfect solution to the problem, but it would do for now.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 10-04-2015
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Absence had also, it seemed, lead Adelphie to forget just how awful he could be. Surely she would not have sought him out again if she had recalled the truth of the matter. Very few who'd had the pleasure of his company for more than a few years managed to do so without rolling their eyes near-constantly. Even Elijah could only be so patient with him, and with two of them, it was a marvel that he did not excuse himself more thoroughly.
«I do not know what sort of men you have been spending time with,» he said, «but if I had finished, I assure you that you would have noticed. At the very least, you would need to have finished first. You know I have always preferred getting in the last word.»
Jean followed as well Elijah's retreat, his latest pet in tow. The newest customer lingered out front with Rhys, though he did so awkwardly, and it was clear she was not his preference. Alas, that there were not more of him to entertain them all. An electric taste of magic, Rhys' doing, and he frowned. «I think that you overestimate the effect your words are capable of having upon his prick,» he said. «Though I will admit that I have found him to be much more accommodating of my particulars in private.»
He did not object to her taking an opportunity to pose, because it was always a shame to let such opportunities go to waste. What was the point of having a physical form if it did not appeal, after all? «I will have you know that I was in the middle of some very compelling salesmanship,» he said, ignoring that it had not been an exchange of books for funds that he had been proposing. Indeed, any propositioning that he had been doing had been purely subtext. «I will have you know that books are… versatile. Lots of words. Highly portable. Much more emotional than trees. And the people who love them are simply fascinating. Which is not to say, Phee, that I am agreeing with your assessment regarding my collection. I am not a dragon. I do not hoard. Indeed, I am all but giving them away! Or would be, if you were not such a dreadful distraction.»
He had not actually been making dinner the last few days, at least in part because there was no one in the house that actually required it. But also, it was much less appealing to him than breakfast. Perhaps there were simply more interesting things for him to do in the evenings. Or else breakfast was the only meal which allowed him to indulge his sweet tooth in earnest, while dinner tended toward the savory. «I am not,» he declared, though it was likely that he would indeed make dinner if she asked. Coq au vin, maybe. He did like making coq au vin. Mostly, if he was honest, for the puns.
Jean's preference for French had abated not at all, not since he'd made the switch from Greek – which he had always preferred, at the time, to Latin. Her enjoyment of English baffled him utterly, but he accommodated nonetheless, switching languages automatically to follow her. "I have on more than one occasion seen things spilled upon you which were entirely your responsibility," he declared, swirling his glass before inhaling the aroma of it.
Her taste was, of course, impeccable. He would never say so.
«I do not know what sort of men you have been spending time with,» he said, «but if I had finished, I assure you that you would have noticed. At the very least, you would need to have finished first. You know I have always preferred getting in the last word.»
Jean followed as well Elijah's retreat, his latest pet in tow. The newest customer lingered out front with Rhys, though he did so awkwardly, and it was clear she was not his preference. Alas, that there were not more of him to entertain them all. An electric taste of magic, Rhys' doing, and he frowned. «I think that you overestimate the effect your words are capable of having upon his prick,» he said. «Though I will admit that I have found him to be much more accommodating of my particulars in private.»
He did not object to her taking an opportunity to pose, because it was always a shame to let such opportunities go to waste. What was the point of having a physical form if it did not appeal, after all? «I will have you know that I was in the middle of some very compelling salesmanship,» he said, ignoring that it had not been an exchange of books for funds that he had been proposing. Indeed, any propositioning that he had been doing had been purely subtext. «I will have you know that books are… versatile. Lots of words. Highly portable. Much more emotional than trees. And the people who love them are simply fascinating. Which is not to say, Phee, that I am agreeing with your assessment regarding my collection. I am not a dragon. I do not hoard. Indeed, I am all but giving them away! Or would be, if you were not such a dreadful distraction.»
He had not actually been making dinner the last few days, at least in part because there was no one in the house that actually required it. But also, it was much less appealing to him than breakfast. Perhaps there were simply more interesting things for him to do in the evenings. Or else breakfast was the only meal which allowed him to indulge his sweet tooth in earnest, while dinner tended toward the savory. «I am not,» he declared, though it was likely that he would indeed make dinner if she asked. Coq au vin, maybe. He did like making coq au vin. Mostly, if he was honest, for the puns.
Jean's preference for French had abated not at all, not since he'd made the switch from Greek – which he had always preferred, at the time, to Latin. Her enjoyment of English baffled him utterly, but he accommodated nonetheless, switching languages automatically to follow her. "I have on more than one occasion seen things spilled upon you which were entirely your responsibility," he declared, swirling his glass before inhaling the aroma of it.
Her taste was, of course, impeccable. He would never say so.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Angel Kimmi - 10-06-2015
Zakiel was wondering over whether it was alright to leave cleaning up to Elijah when he and the dark haired girl walked by. This time he was quite certain he had seen a tail… a tail that moved, and quite possibly cat-like ears on her head as well. Perhaps it was cosplay, but a part of him deep down doubted that very much. It somehow seemed far more likely that they were real.He wasn’t certain why the idea of that didn’t freak him out nearly as much as he thought it should.
The male was mildly surprised though when she pulled her arm away, aquamarine eyes flicking towards her face in confusion. Did he do something again? He wondered before she answered the unasked question. Zakiel stood there somewhat awkwardly as she leaned over and across the desk trying to grab something that he couldn’t see, he only hoped that in her attempts she wouldn’t fall off the desk or anything.
He was relieved when she straightened herself without any repercussions and Rhys slid back off the desk with the towels she'd been attempting to retrieve. He wondered though if it wouldn’t have been easier to just walk around the desk but it really wasn’t his job to judge. After all it was his fault for wanting to clean up the water in the first place, and she’d been kind enough to indulge him.
Zakiel didn’t flinch as she settled the towel around his shoulders, feeling the dry fluffy fabric against his neck and the curling blonde strands was nice. He was grateful as he watched her lay down the other towels to soak up the puddles of water that had accumulated. It made him happy to know that he wouldn’t cause any damage to the books that dotted the floor of the bookstore. Of course, he wished the books weren’t on the floor at all.
Perhaps less charitable was the fact that the idea of other people slipping over on it didn’t really bother him in contrast. Like that scary red-head earlier. The contrast just showed that Zakiel favoured books over people in most scenarios.
“Thank you very much Rhys,” Zakiel said almost shyly though a warm genuine smile was on his lips. One that reached the aquamarine eyes that seemed to glow ever so faintly in the light of the store before he reached up, grasping the sides of the towel and he pressed his face against the fabric. Inhaling the freshly laundered scent before he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it in the towel, before resting the bundle on the floor to stop further reach of the water. The rest of his clothing only a little damp in comparison.
RE: Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 10-14-2015
Comparatively, Rylan was much better at ignoring the reunion than Elijah. True, she had briefly tuned into the going-ons when the conversation dipped in her direction, but other than that she did not share the same interest. Mostly, she did not feel the things that Elijah felt, was not aware of the emotions in the room. Was not aware that he could feel them. Perhaps, that put her at some kind of a disadvantage, but without the ability all it seemed to her was the Jean was enjoying himself. And it caused her to wonder if it was Jean's choice of company that bothered Elijah, or if it was because the company was not him.
But, she did not need to read a room to tell that Jean and the woman were friends, if not now then once upon time. Either way, they had easily fallen into a friendly rapport, that seemed harmless, if not somewhat unusual from the role that Jean was known to play. It had only been a few days, but Rylan could already tell that he had different faces for different situations, and that included people - included her.
Rylan released Elijah, easily, allowing him to walk away since she had no need or desire to keep him. Despite her myriad of shortcomings, she had somehow acquired an infinite amount of patience, so she waited while Elijah busied himself with clearing books from the space. She watched as he completed his tasks, noting the way he moved with purpose; no action was wasted. She laced her fingers behind her back, having nothing to do with them since abandoning her coffee, and Elijah's arm; her tail swayed somewhat lazily at the level of her knees. When he was close to finishing his task, the feline perched herself upon the settee and waited to see if he would join her, before returning to the matter of her inquiry.