aleksandar petrescu. (treadcarefully) wrote in rulethenight, @ 2011-08-27 21:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, aleksandar petrescu, jane grey |
Log: Aleksandar and Jane
WHO. Jane Grey and Aleksandar Petrescu.
WHEN. Friday night.
WHAT. Aleksandar is in search of a very particular book and ends up utilising the talents and services of Jane Grey. To his amusement/surprise/pleasure she holds her own against the vampire and manages to make a pretty good impression on him. The same can't be said for Aleksandar on Jane.
ALEKSANDAR: It wasn’t often that Aleksandar ventured into bookstores, perhaps because literature had never held much appeal to him. As a young man it had been something to scorn at, the secret world of reading only available to the rich upper-classes. He’d spent his youth working fields and herding cattle, as befitting a farmer’s son, and it hadn’t even occurred to him to pick up a book until after he’d been turned. Even then learning to read had been an activity forced on him and he’d fought it every step of the way until finally, finally he’d begun to recognise the words and interpret their meaning. Now he could read perfectly well in several different languages but he still rarely had the patience or inclination to sit down and finish a book. No, Aleksandar much preferred to make his own entertainment. Which was partially why he was here now, perusing titles like any other ordinary customer. Whilst they were perhaps looking for a first copy of Tolstoy however, Aleksandar was looking for something even rarer. He’d heard from a few reliable sources that the proprietor indulged in the occult and supernatural and there happened to be a specific text he was determined to get his hands on. Hence the visit now.
As he idly ran his finger along the spines of one shelf of books and walked further into the store, his gaze came to rest on a young woman. Slender, dark haired and doing an admirable job to blend into the background, there was no questioning who she was. The description he’d been given didn’t quite do her justice -she was certainly prettier than he’d been led to believe- but the attire was exactly what he’d expected. Librarian chic, and depressingly so. Abandoning the shelf he’d come to stand alongside, Aleksandar moved to approach her. “I always suspected Jane Grey might have been taken into the arms of a vampire, but I never expected her to be quite so beautiful.” There was a humorous tone to his voice as he spoke -and he was aware she’d probably heard every joke under the sun in reference to her namesake- but the point wasn’t to impress a human girl. It was to let Jane know that Aleksandar knew exactly who she was.
JANE: Well, perhaps not exactly. She'd been watching him since he’d stepped down into the rare books section, in the same way she seemed capable of keeping a preternatural eye on all the visitors to this most restricted section of Apotheca, having long since developed the ability to observe people without said observing being noted. That said, this new patron was afforded an added layer of attention, particularly given he seemed more inclined to stroking the collection than reading it. He would have had to do some research to get her name, but Aleksandar Petrescu's reputation preceded him. Indeed, his blaringly-provocative posts on the network made him somewhat hard to miss, even to someone who preferred tracking his more-distant history across books and long-lost records.
Jane flicked her eyes upward at his approach. She was ensconced in her typical base of operations, behind a semi-circular desk of polished walnut and in the gentle glow of a green banker's lamp. The desk was built cozily against one of the walls, in a spot that still allowed its occupant a vantage of most of the large wing. Her papers, though there were many, were arranged in neat stacks just to her left, and a book taller than her forearm was open beneath her thin hand. The illumination in the floor itself was just tolerable, though given it was located underground, beneath the main floor of the store, natural light wasn't really an option.
A gentle chime of alarm sounded in her mind at the use of her name, but her worry was mostly muffled by the joke and the knowledge of how simple it would be to discover her employment at the store, even in the restricted section--she was certainly seen here more often than even the owner of the company. Of course, that left further questions as to why he'd want to know who she was. Perhaps he wanted to look himself up in their books--for vampires of his age (and again, reputation), it often seemed like their version of Google. She didn’t consider he could know the rest.
Her voice was flat, albeit not rude, when she replied. For someone who worked among books all day, she herself was nigh-impossible to read.
"There were a persuasive number of witnesses for her beheading, I'm afraid, so I'm not sure how you developed that theory."
ALEKSANDAR: Far from being enraged or insulted by Jane’s flat response -as some vampires or indeed even men might have been- a delighted smile actually crossed Aleksandar’s face at her clever retort. “You’re witty. They didn’t tell me that.” He leaned down slightly, so that he was closer to her eye level, and his voice took on an almost conspiratorial tone. “I like witty.” Or at least he did until witty crossed into mouthy, at which point he promptly ceased being so amused. Jane didn’t need to know that though, and Aleksandar had no intention of telling her or letting her find out first-hand. At least not while he required her services anyway.
He straightened up after a moment, giving Jane back her personal space and allowing the desk to act as barrier between them once more. His gaze briefly drifted downwards to glance at the work covering it, curiosity getting the best of him as it often did. It didn’t take long at all for Aleksandar to scour it for any familiar words and then immediately discard it as unimportant and uninteresting. His attention was then re-focused on the clerk and the task at hand. “I’m looking for a very old, very particular book and I’m told you’re the person with the necessary skill-set to acquire it.”
JANE: Wasn’t this one a gem. The rarefied air up in her current position, insular and underground though it was, meant Jane didn’t often have to deal with people (generally men) who took advantage of the fact she was obligated to be civil to customers, but sometimes a few did manage to slip through. She didn’t bother hiding her work from his gaze, or leaning back when he loomed well into her sphere of comfort, though a distant version of herself would have physically backed against the wall. She didn’t even address the odd personal assessment, though of course that didn’t entirely erase the lingering sound of it, turning instantly stale in her ears.
Instead, she closed her book carefully but without show (still, a certain care one would ordinarily reserve for a loved one was belied in subtle movements of slender fingers), and slid it neatly to the side. Lacing said fingers before her on the desk, she met her evident patron’s eyes squarely.
“Indeed.” Jane didn’t pull out a notepad, or scramble for a pen. “Details of the acquisition?”
ALEKSANDAR: It was a shame Jane went to such lengths to remain stoic and professional as all it did was make Aleksandar want to figure out exactly what it would take to break her of her seriousness. He could envision all sorts of fun things he could do to get a reaction out of her that wasn’t disdain. It was something he’d have to fantasise about a later date when business wasn’t at the forefront of his mind.
“A factual account of the behavioural patterns of werewolves,” he replied smoothly, toying with the cuff of his shirt as he brushed imaginary lint from it. “17th century and British in origin, with the distinction of actually being written by one of their own.” He smirked at Jane, amusement radiating from his face. “I still find it fascinating that dogs have learned how to read, don’t you?” Aleksandar made no big secret of what he thought of therianthropes, they were little more than beasts in his eyes. Yes, they could walk and talk and dress in human clothes but that didn’t detract from what they were underneath all their pretty mannerisms.
JANE: “Therianthropes? Not particularly. Inasmuch as anyone else learning to read is fascinating.” Stark, matter-of-fact; her words were cut from the air like the edge of a cliff. For all she refused to engage, Aleksandar had somehow managed to extract more sentences in one initial visit from Jane than most managed in a week. It almost hid the gentle way she pushed back her long sleeves and pulled down a large codex from a shelf to her right, all in one easy, practiced motion. Something about the way she existed with the books around her, and accessed them with the kind of second nature that made the pages seem practically like extensions of her own long limbs--was easy to forget there wasn’t a computer in sight. The book was obviously old, but there was no plume of dust when she opened it on the table before her.
The listing was beneath her index finger almost before it was obvious what she was doing.
“I expect you’re looking for the McManus. Though it’s not the only one that fits those descriptions.” Even for him, Jane reminded herself. Even for him. She rose, and slipped past the new patron into one of the interminable aisles of books that fanned away from her desk, like the delicate joints of a spider’s web. Her movements were practically soundless, and the light somewhat lacking; indeed, she didn’t seem much concerned as to whether he’d be able to follow her. In fact, Jane had little doubt he’d have more trouble losing her than the other way around.
The book, landmark volume though it was, was shelved almost out of sight in a bend of one of the north cases, green felt cover pristine even as the gold filigree of the title was nearly entirely faded away. She drew her thumb along the spine before sliding it out of place and bringing her eyes up to meet Aleksandar’s. The hesitation before she handed it over was minute, but detectable.
ALEKSANDAR: “The name sounds familiar,” he agreed with a nod, waiting patiently while Jane extricated the volume from a shelf. He took the opportunity to watch her while she did, finding something about the girl’s movements and mannerisms fascinating to him. Perhaps it was because she didn’t seem afraid of him, or because she didn’t seem to care what he or anyone else in the store thought about her. There was something about that which he found attractive, if not alluring.
“Thank you,” Aleksandar told her when she returned, giving Jane a smile that almost bordered on predatory. Her reluctance to hand the book over to him hadn’t gone unnoticed but fortunately he was feeling charitable enough to overlook such slights today. His eyes skimmed the pages as he briefly flicked through the book -reading just enough to determine that it was the volume he was looking for. Satisfied, he placed it back on her desk and took out his cheque book. “I’ll take it.”
JANE: They’d made their way back to her desk through the labyrinthine rows of books somehow (occasionally Jane found herself wandering the halls of this place, hardly conscious of her movements, so well did she know its many nooks and byways; indeed, she knew them better than she knew her own home, her own self), and she’d slipped back behind her tiny fortress of a desk before he’d put the book down in front of her. Her hand moved slightly, as if to wave him (or his money) away, it wasn’t clear.
“You can make your payment to the left of the exit, before the main level.” Jane sat down, her fingers spread along her edge of the desk.
“There is a security escort available for this kind of purchase. Complimentary for your trip home. If you’d care to make use of it.” This was obviously something she’d said before, and she was skimming over the details; Jane hardly imagined Aleksandar Petrescu would deign to hire protection, unless it was for his own entertainment.
ALEKSANDAR: The payment plan surprised him but the offer of security simply made Aleksandar laugh and smile condescendingly at the girl. “Well haven’t you just thought of everything?” He could see now why his friend had recommended this place to him; besides its charming staff it also seemed to deal in the discreet. Aleksandar had never much cared for discretion -he liked seeing people’s reactions to his deeds too much- but he could understand why others might value it.
His cheque book was returned to his pocket as he picked up his purchase to leave. “Goodnight, Miss.Grey. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.” On the surface it was a polite goodbye but if Jane were to dig a little deeper, she’d realise it was in fact a promise.