Setting
This rather overstocked bookshop boasts volumes on nearly every available surface. A light layer of dust covers some areas, while others seem meticulously cared for. A leather chair sits behind a checkout desk, atop which there is an ancient pull-lever cash register, a large brown sales ledger, and a copy of whatever genre fiction book Philius has decided to indulge during his breaks.
Out on the shop floor, there are numerous tables, most of them sporting one or two small glass cases. Within the one closest the front counter are the following books:
- Lewis Carroll - Alice In Wonderland (2nd Printing)
- Winston Chuchill - A History of The English-Speaking Peoples (1st Edition Rebound)
- Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton - Falconry In The Valley of The Indus (1st Edition)
Mismatched wooden chairs are scattered around the shop so that one may have a seat at hand when needed.
The whole place smells of old paper, binding adhesive, and pipe tobacco.
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He picked up a quill and sharpened it with a pen knife before dipping it in an inkwell and scratching it over some perfectly mundane-looking printer paper. After rocking a blotter over the surface, Philius folded the paper into a tiny rectangle and closed his fist around it. “I do hope you all enjoy the remainder of your evening. It has been an absolute pleasure.” When his hand opened, the paper was gone. Eliza felt a small shift in one of her pockets.
"Ah, yes, that would be nice. Next time, you will see," began Nora. "It is sad we have to keep you waiting, however," she finished with a laugh. "Well, we are off."
Garrett could not have been prouder of his brother. With a great big smile he placed a hand upon the shoulder of his daughter and lead her toward the door. "Well, goodbye!" We'll never come back, you daughter-hounding fiend!
As soon as the large party departed, Professor Wolfinson flipped the shop sign to closed and went upstairs to change into some moderately formal dinner attire.
But that woman was not going to bed. She sneaked out from her bedroom window, skittered out into the night, though not without one of her father's blessed revolvers, and made her way to East Lanterna Way.
Trailing her was Leela and the servant that she had tricked into following. Colby was said to keep an eye on her, she'd said to him, but that did not mean he was supposed to stop her from leaving the house! And they needed to know where Eliza was going, after all.
The gunslinger's daughter knocked on Philius' door, politely waiting for him to answer.
Leela stood behind in an alley with Colby, fingers clickity-clacking on the brick of a building wall. "Why, that little lecherous wolf has got our innocent little Eliza under some kind of spell! What an incubus you are, Mister Wolfinson!" she whispered, half to herself, half to Colby, who she turned to with a scowl. "Don't just stand there saying nothing, Colby! Don't you see how disgusting it is!?"
His gait was natural, and automatically adjusted for her to walk at a comfortable pace in her dress. There was a natural flourish to the way he strolled with his walking stick. Although the shadows in this wood seemed often to be longer than they aught, the warm light cast by the gas lamps of Lanterna Way seemed to counter any discomfort.
The evening was crisp and cool, leaning toward chilly, and after a hundred or so paces Phil stopped to remove his scarf and drape it over Eliza's shoulders like a shawl. He resumed his pace without comment.
After being complimented so graciously, Eliza tucked her chin toward her chest bashfully and clasped her hands behind her back. "Well, Mister Wolfinson, a suit could only look so sharp on a man so handsome," she replied, bringing her eyes back up to meet his.
After a few minutes of walking Eliza was surprised to find the scarf tossed over her shoulders. She clasped onto it gently an thanked Phil, one hand to her cheek.
"He plays his game well! But it's awfully cheesy, isn't it, Colby? He comes off like such a sleaze! Don't you agree? Colby. Colby?" Leela looked behind her to notice that...
"... Colby, where'd you go?"
The young man had vanished.
"As for you having your own mind and the capacity for adult decision making, I believe that's plain enough in the way you comport yourself. You are, without a doubt, a young lady of poise and sagacity, and I am very much looking forward to learning more about you over dinner. We are nearly there, mind. I hope you brought your appetite.'
She lifted her head and spotted the window of a bookshop. Even from the outside, she could see the stacks of old volumes and almost already smell the dust and old ink. That was a familiar smell - a safe smell. She glanced at the street around her, before pushing open the door, relieved to find it open, and slipped into the shop. The smell didn't disappoint her and she inhaled deeply.
A chair.
She couldn't help herself. It was wooden and hard, but after being on her feet for hours, it could have been made of mud and rock for all she cared. With the books forming walls around her and the old scent of paper holding her close, she felt safe for the first time since she had been separated from her mother. She allowed her eyes to close, not even thinking about other occupants in the shop.
"Welcome to Epilogue Books, Miss. I take it you aren't here to shop. Are you poorly?" He looked on anxiously, hoping the woman was still conscious.
"No, I-" But she could feel that strange, unsettled movement under her skin, her cells making decisions to which she wasn't privy. Her bones ached with the coldness of growing pains. Jane wasn't ill, she knew, but she was certainly something abnormal. "I'm just tired," she managed and noticed the glorious scent of hot tea. Beside her, there was a steaming teapot.
Tears rushed into her eyes at the man's kindness. She was being ridiculous, she knew. She silently cursed herself and blinked rapidly to keep from crying in front of this stranger. The poor man shouldn't have to deal with an exhausted woman simply because he owned a bookshop. "I'm so sorry to intrude." She cleared her throat, attempting to rid her voice of its emotional crackle. "I don't want to be a hassle. I'll leave." But she didn't stand up.
Setting
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Sorry, just accidentally tagged the wrong character! I'm not sure how to remove it - if it's possible!
by Umbrella
0.00 INK
"My mother and I were in the Cursed Woods," Jane paused, deciding if the explanation of how they had come to be there was too complicated too recite. Then again, she wasn't even sure she fully knew the reason; all her life her mother had periodically moved them and it was always further from the Eastern Seaboard, from her mother's fears. But whatever her mother was running from, Jane had known the Cursed Woods were a bad idea; the name wasn't exactly subtle. But Jane had followed her obediently.
"We became separated a couple of days ago," she continued, "and it wasn't until this morning I found this town. My mother had told me about it before. She said it was a place of..." she looked at the man, not wanted to offend him if he was associated with the things her mother had warned her about. "That there were vampires and monsters here. But my mother always overemphasises the darker things," she added quickly. Jane had wandered around the streets for hours, too afraid to stop somewhere in case someone approached her.
She took a sip of the hot tea and inhaled the steam for a moment before placing it back on the newspaper mat. "I'm Jane," she said, realising she hadn't introduced herself, and held out her hand.
He pulled a flask from his coat pocket and unscrewed the lid, holding it out to her. It smelled of strong brandy. "For fortification, if you're inclined, to warm and calm you."
Dr. Alto Clef approaches them and begins to speak.
Excuse me. I am looking for the owner to enquire about a book that a colleague of mine is looking for. A Study of History. Vol I: Introduction: The Geneses of Civilizations. Published in 1934 I believe.
"My mother..." Jane couldn't imagine sending a search party out to find her. Mary had always been firmly, almost ferociously, independent. Jane almost wondered if she might prefer to stay lost in the woods than to hear that her daughter had been talking to people, telling them what they had been doing. Jane couldn't have done anything differently, but would Mary be angry with her? Probably, she thought. Jane licked the tang of brandy from her lips, wondering how to respond. "I'm not sure that that's necessary. I don't want to-"
But Jane jumped as the door opened, her eyes widening at the creature that stood there. His wide grin made Jane's skin crawl. She dropped her gaze down to her lap, trying not to look startled. She didn't want to offend him, or Phil. He's probably a perfectly good person, she thought. Looks can be deceiving. But the hair that had risen on the back of Jane's neck did not settle down.
It's ok. I'm usually friendly. If not a bit weird. My name is Dr. Alto Clef. My employer sent me here to search for some books. I believe you might have a few copies of them?
Clef looked around as he spoke. He took his Ukelele and strummed it a few times.
Used to work for a top secret government group. Agent Ukelele they called me. Killed 99 people in my time as "Ukelele". Technically they were more... weird than I thought. We called them "Reality Benders". Because they has the ability to change reality. I saw some pretty fucked up stuff in my life. But "Reality Benders" were probably the most fucked up thing I've seen.
Following his rant, Clef takes a deep breath and then grins.
I might have gotten a tad distracted. But it never hurts to go of topic.
"We're closed at the moment, sir, and the door was locked, so I'm uncertain how you gained entrance, however I can make an exception this once." He moved toward a filing cabinet. "Who is the author of A Study of History. Vol I: Introduction: The Geneses of Civilizations., and were there multiple publishings?" The drawer he pulled open from the filing cabinet was overflowing with multicolored papers haphazardly shoved into olive green file folders, most missing their tab labels. Oddly, the drawer seemed far too long to have fit in the cabinet at all. He seemed unperturbed by any of this, however.
One of her shoulder blades began to itch and Jane shuffled on the chair. Perhaps the brandy hadn't done as good a job at settling her down as she had thought. She felt strange again, unsettled, not at home in her skin. The itching on her shoulder became more intolerable and she chewed her lip. She didn't want to scratch it: it reminded her of memories of dreams -- dreams from when she was a child -- in which feathers would sprout from her skin. She shuddered and focused on Phil and Clef, the itching beginning to abate.
She watched Phil pull out the drawer and tried to work out whether the length of it was a trick of the eye or an enchantment of some kind. She smiled slightly and realised that despite her mother's fear, she wasn't worried about magic -- if that's what it was. She didn't feel shocked by it either; it just felt... normal. Perhaps that was wrong. However, Jane just watched Phil at the cabinet, finding his sure movements comforting, particularly next to the strangeness (at least, in her eyes) of Alto. She wanted to close her eyes, but didn't feel comfortable enough with Clef there. Instead, she ran a finger along the spines of books beside her. So many stories and worlds and lessons, too many for Jane to ever understand.
Clef pulls out a small pouch from his pocket. Inside it is different types of currency.The book's author was one Arnold J. Toynbee and I don't believe there was multiple publishings. As for money... that isn't a problem.
Clef then strums his Ukelele again, this time a bit quieter.
He looks at Jane as she ran her finger along the books.As for how I entered, I cannot reveal how I entered. Otherwise my employers will be quite angry with me that I used my equipment wrongly.
And what's wrong with you young lass? You look like you've had a very frightening experience.
Here you go. Three-Hundred, Seventy-Eight and Six pence. I even put a little extra in for great service.
He then picks the book up and puts it under his arm.
His last bit of his sentence was aimed at Jane. Clef turns and walks to the door of the bookshop.I better be off now. My employer is going to be angry I took this long. It was meant to be a 1-day mission. And stay safe ma'am.
As he steps outside, he turns to Phil.
He exits the store and begins to walk down East Lanterna Way.In regards to how I entered, I used this key that my employer gave me. Can open any lock. But I should be off now.
She hugged the blanket more tightly around her, again wondering if Phil would prefer her to leave to, but where would she go? "Thank you again for being so hospitable. I--" she swallowed, wondering how to phrase this without being rude. "Is there any possibility of me sleeping here -- just for one night." She added quickly. "Or if you know of a room somewhere, but I don't have much money." She suddenly wondered how much money she did have and glanced at her small bag. Her mother had kept most of their money, but given a very small amount to Jane in case of... well, in case of this, she supposed.
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