Re: [log: antique store - daniel/claire/louis]
Daniel didn't realize he was making a sound of amused derision at the term "modern historians" until it was already free, and he gave the other two a twitch of his mouth if they looked his way. Fond as he was of his academia and books, Daniel found that almost all of them were wrong, especially when they speculated about the supernatural. Or almost anything. When you had lived it, the words did not seem sufficient, especially not on the lips of someone who drew grand conclusions based on nothing. He sipped at his tea appreciatively, savoring the gritty taste of the leaves in the water, and bent over to examine some knick-knack on a shelf. Daniel was sublimely unaware of any particular effect he was having on Claire, and he didn't catch any subtle scents under the overwhelmingly strong waves of ground coffee beans, not entirely unpleasant.
"Pestilence," Daniel repeated under his breath. It was an old term, not quite Biblical but inspired the word. These, he thought, were Louis' words, and therefore valuable because they were chosen based on experience and not something he had read. Needless to say, Daniel too worried that the connections were too strong to be coincidence. His circle around the room took him closer to where Louis sat, at one end of the couch.
He was therefore in a good position to get a good look at the paper Claire had. It meant nothing to him, and he thought it looked like a statue more than a weapon. "What is it?"