the light catches the eye but shadows have (moretosay) wrote in summerview, @ 2018-12-14 05:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | briar maeve naga, mircea nicolau, player: alice, player: lyddia |
And you wonder why your dreams are crazed
Briar had let Mircea go nearly two months on their little bet, a bit on purpose and a bit just because she was busy, alright? She had two lives, shit got busy, and she was working on a third one just in case Xi made things too messy here for her. Always good to have a backup plan. But she hadn’t forgotten it either, not by any stretch of the imagination. Briar never forgot about a bet, or a challenge, even when the stakes were so low. Things had different sorts of value, she knew that even when she was human. Briar wasn't a full time thief right at the moment, which was even more of a reason to do these sorts of things to stay sharp. Plus, Mircea was both exactly what she expected from a small town bookseller and… Not, so she wanted to poke at him some more, frankly, and she had never seen that as a bad way to learn about things. Or people. Whichever had caught her eye that day. So she had a plan, it wasn’t her most complex but that was sometimes better anyway. At three o’clock she had gone in as the Quintessential is he homeless or just a hipster character, a too tall and all long limbs hidden by layers of scarves and unnecessary things that rattled. He reeked of pot, incense, and patchouli enough that as he milled around the store and asked Mircea dumb pothead questions like but what book is going to help me figure out the universe man and the texture of these you know? They taste as real as they feel he left a trail around him that she was sure would be lingering for the rest of the day even though he had only been there for half an hour. That, and it had been raining steadily all day, windy too, so Mircea wouldn’t be able to open up the windows to air out the place. Now it was four and she had rushed home, showered and put on absolutely nothing with a scent, and was messing with the wiring outside the shop. It was actually a pretty reliably system in town — they had a Gifted Human Technopath a few years ago that helped — but she could make it so his wasn’t, at least temporarily. In her pocket was the watch she had filched from Mircea when he had rushed over to keep his customer from tasting a first edition, and her eyes were drifting up to the small window that she was planning on sneaking in through. Right now she was under the roof overhang, and miraculously not wet thanks to the erratic levels of the storm and a poncho she had already rolled up and stuffed under Mircea’s AC. It was a small enough window that a normal adult or even a child would be hard pressed to fit through, and had probably never been opened since she knew it was positioned over a tall bookcase. A sturdy one, at least. Why it was even there she had no idea, who knew what this building was originally for, she had heard some weird answers about the history of this town. Ah, there we go! Now the power would be flicking intermittently, just often enough that it would give her enough time but not enough for it to be suspicious. Probably. Mircea, not being the betting kind on a regular basis, had sort of pushed their wager to the back his mind. In fact, he hadn’t even seen Briar since he’d run into her in the forest that one night. No, since then it had been business as usual, except that the nights were getting longer, which meant his work day started earlier. This was always preferable, he preferred winter for that exact reason. Summer was one long nightmare of never going outside. He didn’t need nearly that much sleep. And he liked sleep, but not that much. This particular day had been overcast to begin with which allowed him to come in earlier than he usually would, surprising some of the day side workers who rarely saw him. And then that crazy, pot smoking customer showed up and reminded him why he preferred the night crowd. Their smell had still not dissipated—honestly he was worried it never would, it still clung to the furniture and had curled into his nostrils making everything smell vaguely herbaceous, smoky and a little like patchouli—but he had a thing about moisture where the books were concerned. On a good day he worries about the sea spray and humidity rolling in with the ocean fog wrecking the paperbacks, but the rain made him far more nervous, so despite the fact that he actually kind of liked the rain, the windows were staying closed. This would be all well and good if the shift was otherwise normal after that interesting patron came in, but no. No, Mircea couldn’t have nice things. The lights started flickering, and at this point of the evening, he was the only person in the back part of the store. Wonderful. The power going out was the last thing he needed right now. “Oh come on,” he said to no one in particular, and threw his hands up in the air. Briar, the consummate professional that she was even when the job wasn’t really a job per se, waited a few minutes after she hit the box just in case. Also because she was watching the lights flash in the window — even though it wasn’t the brightest spot to begin with — to get her timing right. It was all about timing. This wasn’t exactly scientific, or rather, it could be, she had done it before with more advanced setups than this where she could time it down to a second, but not this one. This was somewhat on the fly, and not worth breaking out her expensive shit, not really. She also didn’t think it would be necessary. Light footed and quiet as, well, quiet as a light footed thief, she crawled on top of his AC and counted the seconds between hard to see flashes. Part of her treated every break in as serious even if it wasn’t, too many jobs where it really could have been death, or worse, prison if she was caught. Even when she was playing, part of her couldn’t really relax. Or maybe that just came with her being in her original shape. When she finally chose her moment she was fast, even though that window may not have been opened in decades, she had gotten through worse just as fast, pulling herself up as soon as her fingertips were in instead of jumping —-too much noise, too amateurish — and shrinking as she did it. The smaller size and weight made it easier for her to get the height she needed as well as fit through the window, and this was one of those times where her clothes...Well. Weren’t actual clothes at all, so they shrunk and grew with her easily, sliding out of the window and onto the top of the bookcase barefooted and the size of a toddler, growing to, well, not adult sized, but probably mid 4 foot, as much as she could considering what she was working with, all in the space of a flash of darkness. Yes! He was even in the front of the store! Even better than her having to wait for him to get back from digging in the back. Briar spun the overpriced Apple Watch around her finger, “Awful fancy tech for a bookseller, might have to take your grumpy old man card for this.” She announced with a grin, New York accent thick around the words, her normal manner of speech exaggerated just a tad. If anyone asked, Mircea had not jumped when her voice came from behind him. Except he most definitely had, that just wasn’t the way he was going to tell it. It was probably a little unbecoming for a five-hundred-and-so year old vampire to be spooked out at flickering lights and a sudden visitor on a rainy night--how cliche, might as well tell the story beginning with “it was a dark and stormy night”, sheesh--but he’d never been particularly good at filling that role properly. There were certain very human reactions he’d yet to shake. Nothing he could do about it now, anyway. “How did you--” he scanned the room “--where did you--?” But seriously though, how had she even gotten past him? There was no way she should have. Except. Ugh it still smelled so overpoweringly weedy in there. No wonder. “Alright, you win.” Damn and he’d been so sure she’d never slip past him. Briar laughed, low and delighted at his reaction, and the sound echoed around the room largely due to her close proximity to the ceiling. It was, in fact, so close she could only tilt her head a few directions without hitting it, but it was worth it to watch him jump and look around the room with a clear, confused expression. Ah, victory. It was a lovely sight, though not the best smell in this case. Damn she had been glad to wash that shit off of her. “Professional secret, you understand.” She pulled her legs up criss cross on top of the bookcase, propped her elbows on her knees and cradled her head in her hands as she peered at him. Briar was much smaller than she preferred to be when conversing with a normal sized person, but the height made her feel better. “I usually do. You’ll get used to it eventually.” Or maybe he wouldn’t. Briar wasn’t altogether pleased with him knowing her at all, and not just because of their less than ideal first meeting. Totally worth being able to say she scared an old ass Vampire though. Professional secret his ass. “Say, you didn’t perchance send in the smelliest hippie you could find earlier?” Because it really still reeked in there, and the coincidence was a little… Well it was damn coincidental, that’s what it was. Not that he’d begrudge her the win even if she was responsible, since it was a very clever way around his senses. He could barely smell her now hours later, and he was staring right at her. “Can I have my watch back then?” He added, watching her twirl it. It wasn’t as if he used it to count his steps or track his sleep or heartbeat because… Well what would the point be? It was just that he was really fascinated by technology. Plus he liked that he could set his favorite photos to run like a slideshow in the background. That was a neat little trick. Well, secret to some. But even if they knew about her abilities, her skills were all her’’s. Cobbled together from years of hard work and discipline, various parts of the world and a strange mish mash of mentors. Briar couldn’t be made again, too strange a cocktail of experiences. That was her real trick though, at the end of the day. Oh, that surprised her. Or was he joking? She honestly thought after her little eye trick that she had pulled in front of him that night that he might have figured it out when he saw her there that the man earlier was too much of a coincidence to be just that. It was a bit of a relief really, “Careful, I might just tell him you said that. Might hurt his feelings ya’ know.” Briar grinned at him, still clearly far too amused and pleased with herself over the whole thing. Her plan was doubly successful now as far as she was concerned, even if that made no sense. “Hm?” She glanced at the watch in her hand consideringly, even if she really had no intention of keeping it. Technology like that only stayed in her hands for a short while, too much tracking potential. Besides, she liked their rapport as it is. So she nodded before tossing it at him gently, “If you must.” Not being a dayside person meant he didn’t know everyone in town, so he was, for the moment, willing to suspend his disbelief. He had an inkling it might have been her, but it wasn’t usually good form to call someone out on things like that. Especially when they still had your watch. Anyway, one didn’t live to be half a millenium without being kind of sharp about these things. But still, she’d pulled off a pretty good surprise on him, so bravo. “Well, you know, someone’s gotta speak up about hygiene around here. That’s all I’m saying,” he said, unable to contain a bit of a grin at that one. “Indeed, I must,” Mircea nodded, hand up toward the top of the bookshelf for her to hand it to him. “I might be a grumpy old man, but I’ve got a soft spot for my Apple products, alright?” Had the stakes been higher, had he lived in a bit of a different place or if Maeve didn’t consume the lion’s share of her time, she might have come up with something more complex. A slow build sort of plan, just for the fun of it. Briar was excellent at the long game, clearly. But instead she had gone for something flashy but to the point, effective, at least in this case. He got off easy this time. Next time though… She gave a short laugh at that, rules about hygiene were so difficult to institute in a town like this. But still, she knew where he was coming from, “And who better than someone who doesn’t want their food to be unclean?” It was partially a rhetorical question she supposed, but also a little legitimate. Briar was up very high at the moment, and her arms were not extraordinarily long, but she still did her damndest to drop the watch in his outstretched hand without hurting her, or it. She certainly understood enjoying silly things, even if this particular silly thing wasn’t her style, “So where is my reward then?” “Hey, if they’re on this island, I should probably refrain from biting anyway. I feel like there’s an unspoken agreement here?” Another reason why he got his blood prepackaged. Who wanted to travel to get their meals all the time? But she was probably right. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, right? Mircea grabbed the watch easily and snapped it around his wrist before glancing up again. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t expect you to win. So I don’t have it yet.” He was still leaning heavily towards poultry. And that would take some finagling. Not too much, but a little. Briar snorted at that before letting a slow smile come across her face, levelled down at him from her high The expression turned into a pout, “Disappointed.” She proclaimed like it was a sentence from a judge rather than a declaration of her emotion. One hand extended down from the shadows, and she fought the urge to do something flashy like give herself claws just for shits and giggles, “No yet. What if I leave town? Unique currency. You promised.” Mircea shook his head. “It’s been my experience that the types willing to enter into such an arrangement usually do it in the hopes they’ll eventually be turned.” Anyway he’d always balked at the idea of having what essentially amounted to a servant. There were probably some species he couldn’t turn where that wouldn’t be an issue but… “Or they’re masochists.” Which was not usually something he wanted to delve into with anyone. Especially not someone who was essentially a meal. “Well I don’t suppose you have the book you promised me if you lost, do you?” He asked, crossing his arms, watch purposely tucked under one arm. Not that he thought she’d steal it again, but… one never could be too careful. “I’ll get it. Anyway, you can’t leave town. I’ve got… a… Question.” He’d seen her around The Long Way Down before. For literal seconds at a time. She had to be as good a person as any to ask about the birds nest for his soup, right? Briar had considered taking the bite from a Vampire or Were both at one point or another in her life. The increased speed and immunity was a very nice sales pitch, but she wasn't even sure it would work on her. The masochism thing earned him a snicker, “Hey, don't judge how other people get their rocks off man. What's wrong with a little mutual beneficiality?” Not that she was interested in such a thing, at least not at the moment. “It's set aside but I didn't want to risk it getting wet.” Briar explained, unphased by his rebuttal. The lights flashed again and she leaned forward, “Don't ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies.” Her sing song voice drifted around the front of the shop but she watched him all the same, head tilted with clear interest and curiosity. “Not knocking it,” Mircea said, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s just more than I usually want to unpack over lunch, that’s all.” That and humans really didn’t have the pain tolerance they thought they did. He couldn’t decide if he believed that, if it was a cop out, or if he was impressed that she maybe had upheld her part of the deal. In any case, he’d lost so he’d probably never know. “Fine, I’ll get a rush order on your winnings. Give me to the end of the week.” That should be ample time. It’s not like he was ordering a cow. “It’s not that kind of question,” he said, arms crossed again. “I’ve just got a long bucket list of strange and unusual things I haven’t eaten. You wouldn’t happen to know someone who could procure a birds nest for me, do you?” And then because it seemed important to clarify, because he could honestly scale a local tree himself and obtain any old birds nest, but that wasn’t what he was looking for, “The soup kind. Not just your local variety. I’ve got a uh… Friend offering to whip some up for me.” “Over lunch, or with your lunch?” Briar clapped her thigh with her laugh, far too pleased with her terrible joke, although in her defense he had set her up for it okay. Awful jokes were better than possibly discussing kinks with Mircea which seems so ridiculous even she didn’t want to touch it, okay. A rush order he says, she was even more amused, but didn’t laugh at him again, poor guy deserved a break. A week was fine, besides she was more curious than in any actual need for it. The satisfaction was prize enough to keep her content for a spell. “Aye. It’s a date.” Briar blinked at him in surprise at his request, eyes widening and leaning away from him at the beginning because with him being what he was and eating — well, that could open up a whole list of risky possibilities couldn’t it. But then it was nothing so bold and daring as the myriad possibilities that her mind was already spinning out. She sighed in a mix of disappointment and relief, “Oh man, I thought you were about to ask for the heart of a newborn Unseelie or something.” She leaned forward again, shaking her head at his explanation, “Yeah man, I can get you a couple in case your friend fucks up the first one, no problem, that shit’s easy. This is what I do.” Her question earned only a shrug. He didn’t particularly want to discuss kinks with her either. Probably for the best. It was definitely not a mid-shift, totally sober discussion to be having with anyone, quite frankly. “Is that a delicacy?” Mircea asked, eyebrows raised partially in surprise and partially in disgust. He’d definitely eaten all manner of animal hearts--not really a favorite body part, honestly, too chewy--but really had no desire to eat the hearts of babies. Any babies that grew into sentient adults. He’d drink blood, but that was a renewable resource. Hearts didn’t grow back. “But no, definitely nothing like that. Birds nests are fine. Thank you.” Somehow he couldn’t see Jayati messing up on the soup, but maybe he could give her the rest for her trouble. “Have you ever had it before?” Well maybe not in his line of work but in Maeve’s there was no time of day where any topics were off limits. Bartenders were a poor man’s therapist, or an in denial one at the very least. Even Waitresses seemed to have a reputation of no TMI policy. Hell, Briar had some weird heart to hearts with fellow thieves while waiting in a back alley for someone to leave their house. Maybe Mircea just needed to be warmer. Delicacy? Hmm, Briar shrugged, “Some place, somewhere, whatever you’re thinking of is a delicacy to someone. But there’s lots of lore around eating babies you know, especially magic ones.” Her eyes darted around the store as she spoke, saying something so morbid with a casual air, “Ain’t the kind of books you sell here then?” The thank you was noted, and stored away for possible future use, but that wasn’t necessarily her style. All the time. These days. “Yep. I lived there for a few years. Nice people.” If you were rich, and beautiful, and Chinese, but two our of three of those applied to every country so. But that was neither here nor there at the moment, “I like it well enough.” Briar had a deep seeded hatred of rich people foods that she deemed needlessly excessive that stopped herself from getting too attached to those kinds of dishes though. It was hard to be warm when your heart didn’t beat anymore. But whatever. That was neither here nor there. “They’re in the back,” he said with a tone that suggested something along the lines of as if I would keep anything like that in the front of the store, come on now. “Anyway, I don’t think I want to test that out. Never really been a fan of hearts.” Magical or otherwise. Interesting. “Huh. I would have liked to have been there at one time or another. Travel is kind of difficult though. I’m sure you can imagine.” One would think that the invention of air travel would have made such a thing easier, but there was some real careful planning that needed to take place for such a thing. Gone were the days when you could pull a Dracula (of all things) and travel on a ship in a coffin filled with dirt. But there were so many things wrong with that whole thing he didn’t even know where to begin. “Which is why that’s still on my list of foods I haven’t eaten. Shark too. Have you also had shark? I feel like I’m missing out on something.” “Isn’t that retail code for ‘we don’t have it’?” Now she was curious though, if he had darker books, more rare and high dollar than the ones here. The sort that could be dangerous. Hmm. Maybe she would pay this place another visit on a bright morning. “Good plan. You know what they say about Fae food.” Briar shook her head, “Naw. No excuses. Where there is a will there is a way, you just gotta look at a problem from all sides.” Like breaking into a bookshop owned by someone who knew her scent and with limited entrances, for instance. You know, just to name a hypothetical. She gave another shrug at the shark question, holding up her hand to show she was iffy on it at best, “I have, not really my thing. I don’t like seafood in general though, will if I gotta. Do you want me to get you shark too then?” This had to have been one of the more odd, and yet mundane, conversations she had in her lifetime with a magical person. It was nice to have conversations with surprises that weren’t you know, landmines. Mircea laughed at that, shaking his head. “No, if we didn’t have it, I wouldn’t even bother looking in the back. You think I don’t know my own inventory?” Because he definitely did. Extremely well. Like on an intimate level almost. Not in a weird way. Just very well. All the things memorized. He could come in after dark and know what had sold during the day even if everything had been reorganized to cover the hole of the missing book. The Bins part of the place he knew less well, but the Books part? That was where he lived. He nodded sagely. “Danger Will Robinson.” He had no plans on getting entangled with any Fae.They were tricky. Another reason why he was more of a frequent customer at The Long Way Down than In Vino Veritas. Though every now and then, he got a real craving for crab cakes. And a pint of B-. “Eh,” he said, waving a dismissive hand at that. “I hear the air quality is really bad right now. Messes with my senses.” Clearly. “Plus, if I’ve got stuff to do here. If I can get some birds nest soup in the meantime… It’s a good alternative.” So that was one point in the yes shark column and one in the no. “No, not yet. I think I have a hookup anyway.” As someone who owned a legitimate business on the side with actual stock she could definitely understand where he was coming from on knowing what they had at all times. Though it probably took her longer than him to figure out what had been sold and such, seeing as she probably had a few more employees making a mess of things than he did. “I don’t know your life. You’re clearly odd, so who knews.” Briar laughed, appreciating the reference. Pop culture knowledge was all over the place in this town she had found, while she had a weird amount of it just due to some of her employees being younger. Well. You know, young for her is the better word. Calling a Succubus ‘kid’ got her some weird looks, but she couldn’t help but view them that way sometimes. They did give her a helpful insight on popular culture though, that was a perk. “I see you haven’t just stayed alive out of luck. Aren’t you like, seven hundred or something?” The lights flashed again and Briar sighed, stepping off the top of the book case without so much of a by your leave, angling it so she hit the ground on a roll and grew to her normal height as she stood. Glad that there was at least one path wide enough and free and clear of books for her to get away with such a thing, “Suit yourself. I’ll have the nests when I return for my winnings. One week, right?” She gestured vaguely towards the lights on the ceiling, “I’ll fix my part in that on the way out, don’t fret.” That was definitely a fair assessment. He was odd, and he knew it. So what? “Fine, I’m telling you, I know my inventory.” It was kind of his job. “Five hundred,” And change. But that wasn’t the point. “But thanks, I guess?” Luck certainly had nothing to do with it. Mircea didn’t put a lot of stock in luck, frankly. Everything he’d accomplished had been through hard work. And craftiness. And just, generally not dying. “One week,” he agreed with a nod. Seemed like he had some calls to make when she was out of here. Oh, that was her? Psht, who was he kidding. Of course. “Thanks, much obliged. Don’t want anyone having a seizure while they’re trying to buy a book.” “Hmm. Good to know.” Not that she actually had to steal anything from him to take it, if she found something that interested her. Cell phone cameras were remarkable these days, weren’t they? Briar gave a low, impressed whistle. Genuine too, 500 was nothing to scoff at, especially when there hundreds of books and movies on how to kill him unlike creatures like her and Marie. “And still with a bucket list, I never thought of that to keep the times interesting. Maybe I’ll try it.” What would her bucket list consist of? Maybe some food, that wasn’t a bad pick. The seizure thing made her laugh for some reason, “We could use a nice mundane emergency ‘round here though.” Briar meandered her way towards the door at a leisurely pace, “I’ll meet you at your house, yeah? Don’t shoot me. It’s rude.” Though shooting was the least of the security measures in this town to cause her concern. She had something up her sleeve, he could feel it, based on that comment, but as long as it didn’t involve stealing something else that belonged to him, he supposed he didn’t mind all that much. It felt like there was some kind of live and let live agreement going on for the time being, and he was fine with that. Didn’t need another person in his life trying to tell him how to do things. Or walk off with rare books. Or whatever. He was used to that sort of reaction, but in truth, he was nowhere near being the oldest vampire on the island. Just better at blending in maybe. Assimilating. “The world is always changing. There are a lot of things to experience.” Sometimes they were on a bit of a time crunch. Things moved more swiftly now than they had when he was still properly alive. “It keeps me from getting bored.” “You never know,” he responded with a shrug. “Stranger things have happened.” Stranger things, frankly, were expected to happen. It was the mundane that was unusual around here. Though it never should be counted out. “I’ll try to holster my guns,” he said dryly. As though he had guns. Wards, maybe, purchased off a witch, but that was a given. Briar’s eyes raised from where she had been distracted by a print of a very intricate world map on the wall, eyes drawn, as they ever were, to the countries where her parents had called home before this land had swallowed them. One (mostly) voluntarily and one not at all. They were so far away from another, and equally far from New York where she had been born. It was hardly a surprise she was still trying to figure out her place, or if she even had one at all. “That’s an old map isn’t it? I like it.” It took her a moment for her focus to follow her eyes, bright hazel eyes settling on him in the eerie stillness of the book store with the pitter patter of inconsistent rain outside, “I’ve heard that’s a problem with the old ones. Age doesn’t kill you but the stillness might try it’s damndest.” Briar liked to think she didn’t have this problem, what with her ever rotating personas and such but it could happen. “Awful nice of you.” She grinned at that and showed herself out the door, “Good seein’ you Mircea, take care of yourself. At least while we are in the middle of things.” Briar laughed at that, like an inside joke only she knew as she threw a wink over her shoulder and made her way back to where her poncho was stashed and his electric box was stored. Very old, actually. Magellan old. Amerigo Vespucci old. Finding a map that showed his now nonexistent homeland was difficult, but this one he’d actually owned for a while. It had traveled thousands of miles and managed to stay intact. But things used to be built to last. Not anymore. “Indeed,” he agreed with a nod, eyes following hers to the map when she pointed it out. As interesting as it was, it seemed an odd thing to be distracted by. “One of the oldest things in here, probably.” He paused and rethought that. “Save for me, obviously.” “It helps to have hobbies, I suppose.” Of course his hobbies and the hobbies of some of the other old ones were often diametrically opposed. He liked staying busy and intellectual pursuits and revolutions. They usually enjoyed… Well, silk pajamas and lounging and drugs and orgies? He wasn’t sure, but he’d heard stories. “You’re quite welcome.” He grinned back, eye teeth flashing. “Same to you, Briar. And tell your friend to take a bath.” |