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Beauty ([info]i_tame) wrote in [info]we_coexist,
@ 2011-05-22 16:03:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:baba yaga, honour bellaforte

Bookwatching (Baba)
Errol watched people. Beauty watched him watching them pass by the windows of Bookmark Books for hours, when the troubled man worked with her, watched the creased plane of his face change in the smallest ways as he kept his own council on the things he saw. Now that he was gone, Beauty did much the same. She perched on the high-sitting chair behind the counter at the front of the store, and stared for hours out the window, watching people go by. She used to lose herself in books in the back of the store, but she'd lost her taste for it sometime after she realized Errol wasn't coming back. The thought made her sadder than her thoughts about her family, and when she considered this for any number of minutes, the implications frightened her.

Today was different, though. Today, instead of watching the wash of people pass into and out of her sight, she was watching the small table that stood just in front of her window outside. The door was wide open into the shop, the late spring breeze was filling the air with the scent of some nearby roses, and the table -- one she'd never seen before, but knew belonged to her store -- was piled high with books. These books kept on changing, every time a new person passed into view. As familiar as she was with the books in the small store she minded, she recognized most of the volumes as they appeared and disappeared on that table. Sometimes The City caught a customer like this. Most of the time it didn't.

Nearly two hours had gone by since the changing stack of books had attracted a single person.

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-22 09:30 pm UTC (link)
Baba was considering, which could be highly dangerous. She had let the anger at the City, for its many offenses, fade to a slow burning ember. She'd let the City believe for now that she'd forgiven it, that she would let things pass, but she had plans to work out. She had found two allies, if such could really be said of the monsters she'd discovered, and she'd found a possible tool, a hairy creature she was going to have to make sure was handled. She'd decided that she would definitely make the City pay, but for now, she needed time to plan, scheme, prepare.

The crone had decided to go for a walk. She'd felt power moving through the City; magickers were doing their magic. There were even places that held power; she wanted to see these people and places. While she could have floated along over the City, Baba Yaga wanted to keep who and what she was quiet, on the need to know side of things. Very few needed to know who and what she was exactly.

So, it was on her trip through the City to find these special people and places that she passed by a bookstore. It wasn't overly special, but she knew that was how these stories went. The quaint little shops that didn't look all that important usually turned out to house the most important bits and pieces to a story.

She would have kept right by, only something caught her eye. Her head tilted as she stared down at the book. Slavic fairy tales in pictures? She couldn't help the slight smile as she picked it up. She was curious to see how she was depicted.

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[info]i_tame
2011-05-22 09:45 pm UTC (link)
Beauty sat straighter in her chair when a few of the books on the table chnaged. Only a few, this time.... The target of The City came into view shortly after -- a girl, not too much younger than Beauty herself, with wonderfully dark, wonderfully curly hair. It would have been lovely any way the girl wore it, but she seemed to choose to wear it short. This would have been strange indeed, back in Paris, but Beauty had noticed that many women preferred short hair in this City. Subconsciously, Beauty coiled a lock of hair around her index finger and watched the face of the girl who picked up the largest of the changed books. This one was a picture book. Beauty quite liked it, too.

Smiling, the young lady slid from her high chair and dropped onto the wooden slatted floor. Her simple brown flats made very little sound as she padded to the open door, wind teasing the edge of her knee-length cotton cream dress. Her shoulder caught the edge of the door frame and steadied her as she leaned. She didn't want to break the woman's concentration - she looked so curious as she flipped through the pages! - but that book hadn't been picked up since Beauty looked it over nearly a year ago. It likely wouldn't get a home unless someone stood up for it.

"You know," Beauty said very quietly, "That's one of the prettier books in this place. I've never seen one like it before, but since I've worked here, no one has paid it any attention. It doesn't seem like it'll sell very well, so if you will give it a good home, I'll cut the price for you."

Beauty was sure her boss wouldn't mind. He was distant at the best of times, and didn't seem to run Bookmark Books for the money anyway. Perhaps that's why Errol worked for him. It was certainly why Beauty still did.

Well. It was one of the reasons.

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-22 10:02 pm UTC (link)
The borrowed dark eyes lifted slowly from the page to look at the young woman speaking. Well, there she was. Beauty. The same borrowed eyes lifted from the face that certainly did deserve the name to the shop's signage. There was a hint of a smirk; it wasn't unattractive exactly, but it spoke of knowing. Baba knew a great deal about stories, even about the young woman's, even if she wasn't exactly the same Beauty Baba had known. Finally she looked back at the book in her hands.

"It's drawn in an attempt to join two styles. A modern one, that of what is it they call it. Graphic...graphic novel? To appeal to a modern audience. With what people see as Russian art. It's almost iconographic, the thick lines." She hadn't looked at Beauty, rather she continued to look at the picture. Her fingers trailed over the thick black lines; the artwork was anything but simple, even if some might have called it simple. They never looked closer probably; there was a subtle intricacy that could appeal to someone taking enough time to look at the damn thing.

"Why not take it to your own home?" Baba closed the book, tucking it next to her body for now as she watched the other woman. It wasn't anger or accusation, but curiosity in her question. Why let it sit on a shelf if she wanted it to have a home?

Baba had taken to something simple as far as clothes went. A simple sun dress, a pair of sandals, and that was about it. There were times she'd bother with the hood to play on the borrowed identity, but she liked the way the sun felt on her skin too much to hide under red cloth.

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[info]i_tame
2011-05-22 10:14 pm UTC (link)
The breeze seemed colder suddenly, and the gentle smile that made its home on her lips retreated somewhere warmer. Beauty shifted from one foot to the other, unaccountably feeling like she were an insect under a glass. There was something about this young woman's eyes, something... She couldn't place it. Perhaps she'd been spending too much time engaged in the fantastic worlds she'd found in the pages of the books at her back. Perhaps she hadn't been spending enough time with other people. But there was no mistaking it; the French girl felt decidedly uneasy.

And the girl in front of her was certainly not speaking the way a girl younger than herself would. Beauty immediately countered that thought with a mental snap -- she didn't know this girl. She didn't know what sort of education she had, what sort of life, what sort of experiences. She had no business judging her. Perhaps it was exactly how girls who were just like her would speak about... about.. Russian art and graphic novels. Beauty dropped her eyes to the cement walkway upon which they stood. She should be ashamed, making assumptions like that. Even years in The City now, Beauty still knew so very little about this place. And it was nothing like her Paris, nothing at all like it. Neither were the people.

The girl had gone back to looking at the book, when Beauty looked up again. And there was some relief in that -- relief not to be pinned by eyes that looked large enough to swallow the world in a glance. When the question came, Beauty blinked. Despite the loveliness of the book, she'd never once considered purchasing it for herself.

"It wasn't meant for me," she said immediately, with a tone that suggested that it was as obvious to her as breathing. "As much as I admire it, it just doesn't belong to me."

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-22 10:27 pm UTC (link)
The crone knew she could make people uncomfortable. It served a purpose. She'd been able to read people, perhaps look into their souls, or their futures. She did it even today, in the City, after working for the Adversary for so long. Baba Yaga could never stop being the crone that she'd started her existence as. She was the trickster figure in many Slavic stories; she was also the Boogeyman, the devourer, the evil at the end of a wayward journey. She was the one who helped the lost princess or prince find the path home. She was also on very creepy witch. Of course, some of that creep factor might be lessened, or heightened, by the form she now took.

"It wasn't meant for you? Interesting. And who was it meant for? It's in a bookstore, open to anyone who happens by. Anyone with the right amount of money could take it home; how do you decide who deserves a book?" She smiled as she asked her questions. They were meant to tease, to make the girl think perhaps.

The Beauty Baba had known, or known of, had been a brilliant woman. She was overly emotional, yes, but very intelligent. Many times her emotions clouded her ability to think; Beauty also had a few confidence issues. She knew she was no Snow White, but then there was only one Snow. Beauty just tended to forget that there was only one Beauty with her Beast, too. Had this Beauty found her Beast?

Baba moved around the table and closed the distance between herself and the young woman. Definitely the shorter of the two, she smiled up at Beauty.

"I'm sorry. I tend to ask questions that are very direct. You might say, the ones I'm best known could have saved my life had I been smart enough to run rather than stay and keep asking questions." It was amazing that the overly curious Red had gotten very far sometimes. That or she had been slower to understand her reality. Either way, Baba did like being her...for now.

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[info]i_tame
2011-05-23 12:22 am UTC (link)
Beauty opened her mouth and then, when the girl started apologizing and explaining her abrupt manner, closed it again. It seemed perhaps the girl didn't really want an answer to begin with. Then why ask the question? Was she trying to be confrontational? Beauty planted her feet when she wanted to back away from the approaching girl. Sometimes people who were overly aggressive had something heavy on their hearts. Sometimes they thought they wanted to fight -- but what they really wanted was a little understanding. Her sisters had been like that. In their cramped country cottage some 100 kilometers outside Paris, neither of her sisters went the week without finding something to fight about. They wanted understanding, too -- and Beauty had tried very hard to give it to them.

Perhaps this girl was the same.

Biting her lip, Beauty looked down at the small, smiling girl. Her face was youthful; her eyes .... Her eyes were not.

"Are you all right?" she asked, very gently -- and very kindly. "Is there... anything I can help you with?"

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-23 12:56 am UTC (link)
"Of course, I'm all right. Do I seem otherwise?" Baba's head tilted as she looked up at the Beauty. She was so very sensitive, wasn't she? Definitely interesting. The crone wanted to push the young woman to see where when there'd be a fight, conflict. It was a twisted curiosity, but it was there all the same. How could this one charm a savage beast?

"I'm Red." She held out her hand to Beauty. "I understand this is how it is done here. You shake the other person's hand firmly. You scoff at anyone who kisses it. Or that could be what certain women do, and you do not back down from intimidation." She rolled her eyes.

"They expect different things from women here." Her nose wrinkled; she'd hold out her hand until it was taken or until it looked like Beauty was uninterested. The book was still clasped tightly to her body. Baba was probably taking the silly thing home.

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[info]i_tame
2011-05-23 01:11 am UTC (link)
Also familiar with the new way of greeting, by now, she shook Red's hand politely. "My name is Beauty. It's a pleasure to meet you, Red. You remind me a little of my sisters -- and they carried heavy things on their shoulders quite a bit. I'm pleased to hear that you're well."

With a sweep of her arm, Beauty stepped inside the little hole-in-the-wall used bookstore. "Won't you come inside?"

It seemed from the way that the girl hugged the book, she truly wanted it. And it also seemed from the way she talked that she was interested in more than just the book. Well, Beauty hadn't had a conversation with anyone, really, in a very long time. It would be welcome.

"I have some coffee ready, if you'd like some. I always have a few extra mugs about, in case someone decides to sit a spell here. May I make you a cup?" She was already heading to the coffee maker just behind the counter. "Cream, sugar?"

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-23 01:42 am UTC (link)
Her sisters, with heavy things on their shoulders. Interesting. Baba smiled slightly, not seeming to take it as an insult, just an observation. She nodded slightly before stepping into the store to follow one of the few true fairy tales in the City. Everyone was a story, but few were fairy tales.

"I'm not overly particular. I rarely drink it; I tend more to tea, but the coffee will do. Thank you for asking." She offered the young woman an appreciative smile before turning her attention to the books. There were quite a few. People had no idea how handy a bookstore could be, or the library. It was as if the City was inviting its captives in to get to know each other on very intimate levels. Yet, Baba doubted many of the captives actually bothered or even understood what they were, what they truly were.

"Do you read much? I ask this because people who work in certain shops don't have to enjoy those things they sell. It helps, but it certainly isn't necessary." There was more than one reason to keep the book she'd picked close. It did remind her of her "youth," but it may hold secrets she wasn't ready to share. As long as she wore the guise of the young hooded lass, Baba could be anyone or anything, but she was not so arrogant as to think that she was perfectly hidden or invincible. There had been those who could feel her power, others who could smell her true age, but they were gifted. She did, on occasion, wonder about some that were now gone.

"'Beauty' is an interesting name. Then I suppose so too is 'Red,' mm?" She smiled at Beauty.

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[info]i_tame
2011-05-23 01:52 am UTC (link)
Beauty was generous with the sugar. Errol drank this stuff straight from the coffee pot, but she never could. Truth be told, she was much like Red, preferring tea over coffee most of the time. But there were some days when she missed Errol quite a lot more than she could comfortably manage. On those days, she drank coffee.

"Oh," she said warmly, "Quite a bit, yes. When I first arrived, it was actually in a library, but I was too... Well. I have a guess that you know how it is to arrive here when you weren't expecting to be here. I didn't appreciate that library the way I should have, needless to say. There were many books there -- more than is here. A ... A friend helped me back there, once I was more myself. And then he brought me here. He happened to work here himself, at the time, and he spoke with the owner on my behalf. And here I am."

Beauty stopped stirring Red's coffee and leaned over the counter to hand the mug to the young lady. "You seem to find interest in many things, Red," Beauty commented. "And you're right to question what I call myself. It isn't my birth name; it's just what my father used to call me. My real name is 'Honour' -- but I don't remember to respond to it. Plus, it's nice to be called what your father called you, don't you think?"

She missed her father, too. Less, lately. But the missing had never really gone away -- merely dulled over time. It helped to know that her family was long dead. It helped, in an odd sort of way.

"Is 'Red' the name your father gave you?"

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-24 02:18 am UTC (link)
"It's very disconcerting, thrilling and freeing, but very disconcerting on top of it. Here you can be whomever you wish as long as no one knows you from before." Baba watched as the Beauty prepared the hot drink; the young woman was so very domesticated. She was new, very new. Her story was anything but new, yet this creature that stood on there stirring sugar into the darkness felt so much fresher than her Fable'd counterpart. Had she not started her path to meeting her storybook partner? Interesting.

"Where is your friend?" The question was not the right one to ask, but such friends could be dangerous. The crone wondered just what protection the Beauty had, and she was beginning to wonder what may be done to the pretty little thing. None of these things showed in her eyes.

"Is he away today?" She leaned a little to look around the store as much as she could, but soon she looked back at..Honour. Knowing someone's name was always helpful. "Oh, thank you." As if the name and the hot drink had wiped away whatever question she'd asked. "Honour's a very pretty name. It's a very good name."

Beauty's question was met with a little bit of sadness and a slight smile. "I don't think so. I'm not really sure. I remember my mother and my grandmother, and a very nasty wolf." There was a shudder that was a little more real than the crone would admit. "But, I don't remember my father. I'm called 'Red' for the hood I wore, or wear. Have you ever heard of 'Red Riding Hood'?" She peeked up at Beauty, waiting to be laughed at perhaps or told she looked a little older than most expected, not much but a little. It got a little tiring explaining that she was even older than she looked, or so Baba imagined.

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[info]i_tame
2011-05-25 03:48 am UTC (link)
The girl was very odd. Red was very odd. Again, that feeling of uncertainty, that hole-in-the-stomach sickness, warned her. And again, she tried not to take it to heart. But the things Red was saying.... the implications one could draw... Beauty licked her lips nervously, then turned back to her own coffee. Her cup was cold. She poured fresh over the old and started sugaring her drink up. When the first question came, though, Beauty buried her face in the mug and swallowed the coffee that was way too hot for immediate consumption.

When she yelped, through a mouthful of coffee, it wasn't feigned. Fanning the air in front of her lips, eyes watering, she warned: "Hot!"

After a few breaths, she set her mug down, shook her head, wiped her eyes, and said gingerly, "I haven't heard of Red Riding Hood. I'm sorry you don't remember your father; fathers are wonderful people.

"Well, then --" Beauty said, retaining her pleasant demeanor, but taking on a brisk businesslike manner at the same time. "Now that I've burned myself on my coffee, how about we discount your book? It's usually $14.99, but I'll sell it for $9.99 for you -- so that makes $10.41 all said. How would you prefer to pay?"

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-27 01:05 am UTC (link)
"Oh! Do be careful. It's very hot." Those large dark eyes seemed to grow larger. Yet, she didn't do more to help, to soothe. Baba just watched very carefully.

"Fathers are people. People can be wonderful, but not all fathers are wonderful. It doesn't mean they are no longer people; they simply are not wonderful." Baba was amused. She upset the young woman, and now she had something/one to play with. Yes, she had Eric to enjoy. She had Hannibal to watch. She even had a wolf to hunt down and possibly kill, but she did not have someone to play with. At the ball, there had been just a hint of interest started, but now, Baba definitely wanted to see what sort of buttons this Beauty had to push. There were no heroes here to protect her, at least none that Baba could see, and if any should appear, she'd deal with them.

"Oh? I'm sure I'm somewhere in here. I'm a story." Baba could say that without feigning. Baba Yaga was a story; Red Riding Hood was a story. What they both were, where they came from, it was simply a matter of life, so it was rather easy for Baba to accept such and say such.

"Feel free to look. I don't mind, and I can set anything right about the story as well." She leaned in a little. "They don't always get it right. I'm sure if you look, you might find a story much like your own." She nodded, smiling.

"Oh. Oh, you..." The smile faded as the coffee as now sitting on the counter cooling, not at all touched or sipped anyway, forgotten. "But, I haven't had my coffee. I don't really have the money for this. I've got no pockets."

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[info]i_tame
2011-05-30 02:54 am UTC (link)
The girl was starting to sound a little mad. When Red offered what she did, Beauty didn't know what to say. Instead, she smiled and shook her head gently -- whether in denial or polite decline, it was hard to say. Either way, it didn't mean that she needed to respond verbally, which was the plan in the first place.

When Red started stammering, though, Beauty took a little pity on her. Her features softened. "Of course, of course -- how thoughtless of me! Please, enjoy your coffee, and if you'll pass me the book back over the counter, I'll store it for you. I am afraid I can only hold it for a week, but if you return with payment within a week -- once you have pockets, that is! -- then I'll be sure that you can have the discounted price. A deal is a deal, after all! What's your surname? I'll write it on a paper to say that the book is on hold for you. And if you have a way that you can be reached, we can call and remind you, too -- only if you'd like."

This "calling" was new, but Errol had shown her how to use a telephone before he... vanished. Beauty had quite gotten the hang of it, too.

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[info]i_cast
2011-05-30 10:13 pm UTC (link)
Baba watched the Beauty carefully. So, she wasn't aware of the stories? She was definitely not the Fables Beauty, but that was all well and good. Beauty was young, and there could be fun...

"Oh. Well..." The crone looked down at the book, seeming so very sad that she'd have to give it up, but with a soft sigh, she lifted it slowly up and over the counter. "If you could keep it back for me, that'd be wonderful. Perhaps I can ask my friend to come and get it for me. How late are you open? He works very late hours, and he tends to be kind enough to handle money for me. I have no head for figures."

"Are you open late in the evening?" She looked around as if to see any hours posted. "Don't worry about the coffee. I shouldn't have let you make any for me. I suppose it's a bit of a waste. I apologize for that." Baba wanted to know how another fairytale girl tasted - if they tasted the same; Eric perhaps would help her with this. Or there was the other vampire...How much power was in this one's blood?

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[info]i_tame
2011-06-02 04:51 am UTC (link)
Over a slip of white, clean paper, Beauty wrote "Red" in a simple but elegant script. "Don't worry," she said warmly, feeling terrible because of the girl's obvious reluctance to give the book back. If this were Beauty's shop, she would have already given the book away for free. It wasn't, though, and she couldn't give away what wasn't her own. "I will be sure that no one else picks it up but you or.... What's your friend's name? I'll add his name, too, just to be sure that he can also pick it up for you."

Beauty noticed, but didn't comment, that Red hadn't given a last name. In retrospect, it didn't really matter. Beauty had never met anyone else with the name of 'Red' and she was usually the only one working the store, these days. It was odd, though. And what sort of girl couldn't count out $10.81? All very odd.

"We usually close around 7, but if we know someone will be back, I'm sure I could ask for special permission to have someone meet your friend. If it's that important to you, then it's important to me, too -- and it really is a lovely book. I think it was meant for you."

Beauty smiled -- sincerely, warmly. It was clear that her heart was full of love for books, and it spilled over to readers as well.

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[info]i_cast
2011-06-03 01:07 am UTC (link)
"His name is Eric. Or perhaps I can have the doctor see to it. Eric runs a business. He's good with numbers. I'm not sure I'll be able to get Hannibal. Actually they're both busy, but maybe if I can't make it they can. I don't sound like I've become very self-sufficient in an age when women can do very well for themselves." Baba looked a little embarrassed, but she wanted to upset this pretty little thing. Perhaps it was that she was pretty and innocent, or perhaps she wanted to see the young woman's true metal. Either way, Baba was curious, and she was about to nudge two of the more dangerous types in the Beauty's direction to satisfy said curiosity.

"Thank you so much for being so helpful. It's been a while since I'd seen anything like that. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it." She also didn't realize what information the City might actually have floating around about her. She didn't mind people getting to know more about the woman's face she stole, but she didn't care at all for the possibility that people she did not know to know who she was. It could end badly...for her.

"I guess I'll be going. I've taken enough of your time." She stepped back, smiling almost bashfully. "Perhaps we could talk about books sometime." She took another step back, looking around. What other books did she have to take out of here? She'd certainly see that certain bits of information found homes only where she wanted.

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[info]i_tame
2011-06-06 01:10 am UTC (link)
Eric. Hannibal. Beauty scribed both names on the paper, then quickly palmed three business cards for Bookmark Books. Circling around the counter, she thrust the cards out to Red. "Of course, of course -- But here, before you go, please take these -- so you and your friends can find the store again. I hope we'll see you again soon, Red."

And although it was true, and she did hope that Red came back for the book that so clearly belonged to her, Beauty was also very, very glad that the strange young lady was gone from the store.

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