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Dorian Gray ([info]hauntedportrait) wrote in [info]utr_logs,
@ 2010-01-11 01:23:00

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Entry tags:dorian gray, sable harris

Who: Dorian Gray & Sable Harris
What: He needs books
Where: The Sign of the Weasel, London
When: Now-ish
Warnings: Oh, who knows. Probably a little.

Dorian had come into a home with many books - books of science and of fantasy, though they mostly consisted of poetry and short stories compiled into large leatherbound volumes which lined the shelves in his parlor. To his dismay, he'd read most every single one of them, and rather than repeat himself (Although he had plenty of time to do so), he ached for new literature. To his good fortune, there was a book store just a quick jaunt down the street from his home.

He stepped in and was immediately enamored with the place. Rogues and musicians were commonplace in this little store, as were comfortable seats and tables, and the place smelled of herbs and tea and baked goods. He looked no less out of place in this store than anywhere else - a casually dressed, young and beautiful man amidst the rabble and beauty of London. Walking through the tall shelves,  he found himself looking for nothing in particular. Though his previous discourse with a certain famous detective reminded him that he still hadn't read everything Jules Verne had put out. He wandered quietly in search of the man's works, wondering vaguely, if he was allowed to smoke in this building.


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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 08:39 am UTC (link)
And Dorian, in his wandering, would eventually run into the shop's owner -- a young woman with one arm in a cast, dressed in simple jeans and a knitted sweater with very little adornment other than some simple stud earrings, shelving books in a darkish corner of the store. She smiles when she sees him -- a friendly smile that quickly melts into something a little more flirtatious -- and though they've never met, there may be something about her face that strikes a familiar chord in him.

"Evening. Welcome," she says quietly but cheerfully. "I haven't seen you here before. I'm Sable Harris, I own the shop. Can I help you find anything or get you a cup of tea or something to eat?"

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 08:42 am UTC (link)
Smiling in return - a warm, inviting smile that was at the same time flirtatious and innocent - Dorian bowed his head faintly, "A pleasure to meet you, your store is lovely. Ah, I'm looking for Jules Verne. Well, his writing, but having met more peculiar people since my arrival, I wouldn't be surprised at all if you're storing the poor man here, too." He offered his hand to her. "Dorian Gray. Yes, that one."

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 08:48 am UTC (link)
"Dorian Gray?" She pauses just a moment as Yes, that one registers with her. Then she grins and takes his hand. "It's an honor, Mr. Gray. Welcome to the Weasel. I do have some Jules Verne. Regular volumes are two shelves over. I also happen to have a signed first edition of his, if you're in the market for that sort of thing. I'd be very happy to show it to you if you'd like."

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 08:53 am UTC (link)
"The pleasure is all mine," He said as he kissed the back of her hand, before smiling, "Two shelves down, that way?" He asked as he withdrew his hand to point in a direction, "I don't need his autograph, I'm merely in the mood for some proper science-fiction. I'd realized a little too late, I never got around to reading all of his works." He smiled back at her once more and looked into her eyes, "Funny, you're like a ghost that haunts me, I could swear you remind me of someone I once met." There was a nagging feeling that whoever she was, she could very well have been someone he'd known ages ago, or perhaps a sister. It only bothered him in the way that it wouldn't come to him until he was told.

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 09:00 am UTC (link)
"Two shelves down, yes. I've got plenty of other science fiction, too, if you want some recommendations. I'm very happy to help."

She meets his eyes with an easy grin, tosses her hair and ALMOST strikes a pose. "I do have a lot of relatives here in London. It's possible you've run into one of them, if you've been here any amount of time. My father is Miniver Cheevy. Anyone with the name Cheevy, Brennan, Wartooth, or Skwigelf is likely to be a relative of mine by blood or by association, sometimes both. And there are more besides them. Do those names sound familiar at all?"

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 09:05 am UTC (link)
"Miniver Cheevy does," There was a moment of recollection and it was as if a light went on above Dorian's head. "He's splendid, your father, very easy to get along with, and he and I had a mutual friend in Mr. Wilde. Now there's no surprise whatsoever that you're as pretty as you are, Ms. Harris." He gave a casual wink and grin. "And I'd very much like your recommendations, if you don't mind." With a sweep of his hand in the direction of Verne, he started to walk towards that part of the store, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, looking all the more young and vibrant in the midst of tales he'd yet to read.

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 09:11 am UTC (link)
She can't help but grin at the compliment, and might have been blushing a little if one could tell with her skin tone. "Well. You're kind to say such things, Mr. Gray. And call me Sable, if you please. This is not a formal establishment. This is a free place."

She follows him at his side to the aisle where the Verne books are. She leads him to those and remains nearby, fussing at another shelf's order and chatting while still leaving him room to look on his own. "I'm happy to go pluck out a few mote books I think you might enjoy, Mr. Gray, though I wonder if you'll indulge my curiousity first. How is it you know my father?"

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 09:18 am UTC (link)
"Sable, then," He said, his tone secretive and sensual, though by no means perverse or sexual in context. As he browsed the titles, he picked out the few he had no recollection of reading, and held the books close to his chest. At her question, he couldn't help a tiny, lopsided smile. "Biblically," he murmured under his breath before answering more freely, "I met him when I first arrived. To be perfectly honest, I don't exactly know how we met, but we spent an evening talking to each other and revealing the weaker points of our character. I do hope you understand, I never would wish to see any harm come to the man," he looked over his shoulder to make eye contact with her briefly, "but he looked tormented that I was drinking, and he was not. I made sure he had only a sip. I do know the effects of addiction, but the poor man just seemed so pitiable. I hope he didn't relapse on account of me."

It was as good a lie as any, he frankly coerced Miniver into drinking with him, but the look on Dorian's face now looked absolutely and stunningly repentant and guilty. Like he'd broken his sister's new doll.

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 09:27 am UTC (link)
Cute as it is, Sable doesn't buy his act for a moment -- but at the same time, she never thought of her father's recent alcoholic escapade as all that big of a deal. She gives Dorian all the respect he is due as the storyteller, but ultimately shrugs it off.

"To tell the truth, Mr. Gray, I'm surprised it took him this long to go back to the bottle. Of course I don't expect you intended any harm. But don't walk on eggshells about it around me. I didn't even know my father's name until a little over a year ago. I'm protective of him, certainly, but no more so than I am of anyone I care for, or any one of my customers while they are here. Even if you DID mean him harm, I wouldn't toss you out. Only one person has ever had the honor of being banned from this store." Which is not something she cares to dwell on, and it shows. "Anyway. Can I show you to some other books I think you might enjoy?"

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 09:31 am UTC (link)
With an expression of ample relief, Dorian nodded, "Please, I do feel some sort of pity for him, and some brief pangs of guilt that I let a poet succumb to his darker demons. I'm quite fond of poets, you know. Also of their families. He never told me he had a daughter, only that he was expecting a son." He motioned for Sable to lead the way.

"And even if he had told me he had a daughter, I wouldn't have been so keen on believing his daughter was anywhere as perceptive as you are." He walked behind her, watching the way she moved as she walked. It was subtle, but there.

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 09:59 am UTC (link)
And she is showing off for him a little. Just a little, but it's there -- the way she carries herself taller, the way she moves with more grace than usual, pauses here and there and turns her body to show off her curves. She's good at that game. It may mean little or much, but most likely little with Dorian -- it is a game, and now, only because of all that has transpired this past year, there is an element also of her doing it for herself, doing it just to catch a moment of a look of appreciation from him for the sake of her own ego, because it has been a long time for her since she was with anyone.

But it's all casual, all a game, all played moment by moment.

"I am going to have a brother soon, that's true," she says as she leads him through the books. "He'll be 20 years younger. My dad didn't know about me, see, when I was born. I guess he wants to be a parent to someone correctly. Or something. Whatever. You're quite the flatterer, Mr. Gray," she says, turning to him as she pulls a couple of books off a shelf and hands them to him. "I'm only as perceptive as necessity has brought me up to be."

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 10:06 am UTC (link)
And oh, did Dorian ever appreciate a good show. His smile was playful once she turned around again and he took the books into his pile and held them fast. "Flattery is nothing, I compliment, dear girl. And what a coincidence, I'm turning twenty this year, myself. For the hundred and thirty-third time." He teased, chuckling and looking down at his pile of books with a near-sheepish quality.

"I do believe this should last me a while, I don't want to be gone from this place for too long." He raised a brow. "Though now that I mention it, maybe I will have a cup of tea. Provided the shop matron will allow herself five minutes to share her time with me while I sip it."

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 10:14 am UTC (link)
"A hundred and--?" She shakes her head and laughs quietly. "Lucky you. I'll be 21 in about 3 months. Here's hoping I don't start looking my age too much, huh?" She tosses her hair at him and grins an almost feral grin, just for a few seconds.

"I'd be very happy to share some tea with you, Mr. Gray. Go on and find yourself a spot in the shop to settle down in. I'll be along soon. I'd recommend the beanbags near the fire." Flashing him another grin, she bounces off towards her kitchen in the back rooms.

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 10:20 am UTC (link)
Dorian caught that look, knew it intimately, and bowed his head with another near-sheepish smile. "They do look rather comfortable," he mentioned, looking to the beanbags, before heading that direction. Setting his books down beside one, he silently wondered to himself the same thing he wondered as he walked in. Would smoking be allowed? Looking around as he sat down in a dark green beanbag - sprawling, really - He caught a chance glimpse at several customers who also had cigarettes and pipes lit, so he lit one up for himself, looking up at the ceiling.

Hm. It seemed as if someone had been drawing a sketch on it. Perhaps soon, there would be a mural. That, or it was very pretty vandalism.

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 10:28 am UTC (link)
Sable's shop is a myriad of creative vandalism, some of whi9ch was done by herself and Judah. The whole place is really tacked together from odd assortments of shelving, bedding, furniture, and other things... the chickenwire ferret tunnels making a labyrinth around the walls and ceilings, the patchwork carpeting, the nests upstairs along the catwalk... The place is like a glorified gypsy caravan.

Sable returns to Dorian about 20 minutes later. She makes no comment about his smoking, which is most certainly allowed here (except on three evenings/nights each week, which are posted on the door -- this evening not being one of them). She sets down a tray with a teapot and a couple of cups and a plate of scones on the floor between Dorian's beanbag and a second one she drags over for herself to flomp into. She pours two cups and gestures towards the lemon and sugar and cream jug on the tray. "Make it as you like it. And tell me if there's anything else you'd like."

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 10:33 am UTC (link)
He loved the atmosphere of the place, it was entirely bohemian and therefore right up his alley. He could smell the faintest whiff of hashish filtering down from the second floor, and the beanbag smelled like opium. He sat up when she returned, and started fixing his tea, stirring in just a half-spoonful of sugar and a nip of cream. "There is, actually," Dorian mentioned in an offhand way when she offered even more. "I'm wondering if a delightfully sweet lady such as yourself would be interested in seeing a play one day soon." Sipping his tea demurely, he sat back into the beanbag, keeping his eyes on hers.

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 10:38 am UTC (link)
She raises a brow at him and half-smirks, but nods.

"I always like adventuring. Especially with strangers. What sort of a play did you have in mind? And you'll have to forgive me for asking, but... why me?"

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 10:41 am UTC (link)
"Ah, you talk to strangers and let them take you to plays. Why not you, Sable?" He chuckled over his tea and shrugged one shoulder. "If anyone in today's travels struck me half as in the mood to enjoy life as you did, perhaps this conversation would have never happened. But here we are. Oh, and the way you walk may have something to do with it."

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 10:43 am UTC (link)
She actually laughs at that, and sprawls back with her ankles crossed and sips her tea, every ounce a queen and every ounce a city girl.

"Mr. Gray, you're a sweetheart, and I have to say it's nice to get that from you, silly as it all is. But what the hell. You name the time and place, and I'd love to go see a show with you. And--" She winks at him. "I'll be glad to walk for you whenever you like."

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 10:47 am UTC (link)
He sipped again and looked at her for a silent moment, really more to just enjoy looking at her smiling face, before replying, "You really are a work of art. I hope your father knows that. If you give me a moment to inspect the paper, I'll find a play to watch. Which do you prefer, comedy or drama?"

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 11:00 am UTC (link)
"You are utterly charming, you know," she replies, sprawling before the fire with her tea. "I'd have expected nothing less of you, of course, but it's still lovely. A work of art? Really. It's so... that's a line and a half, but from you, it's... nice. And what the hell, I can allow myself to indulge in that sort of nonsense finally. I'll tell you what, Romeo. You pick what play. I don't care whether it's comedy or drama or surrealist neo-expressionism. Let's have a test and see if your impeccable taste translates to this century."

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 11:08 am UTC (link)
"I certainly hope it does, I've been an avid theater fly for my entire life!" He tutted and shook his head, grinning, "Ye of little faith," he murmured as he plucked up a paper and went through it, deciding upon one he'd seen with its original West End cast. "Have you seen An Inspector Calls? I rather liked it." He offered her the paper and pointed out the short blurb about it. "I love mysteries."

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 11:11 am UTC (link)
"I haven't actually seen a play since the last time I worked backstage at one," Sable answers, watching him go through the paper. "I've actually spent my whole life working backstage at such things but only seen them from the audience a handful of times. A mystery sounds wonderful. When do you want to go, then?"

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 11:13 am UTC (link)
"It says the next showing is in exactly three hours. I'll tell you what. I'll buy these books and bring them home, and preen until it's time to come pick you up. We'll have a proper date of it." Dorian smirked and finished off his tea. "Unless of course, you planned to give me the books for free, which I entirely doubt was the case."

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 11:16 am UTC (link)
"I fdo a lot of favors, baby, but I'm afraid I'll have to obligate a payment for those, you're right." She gives them a quick look over. "Not much, though. Five pounds'll do it. But tell me, are you serious that you want to take me on a proper date in three hours?"

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 11:22 am UTC (link)
"Five pounds," he murmured, before handing her the money out of his billfold. "And of course I am. If, of course, you're serious about coming with. It's no fun to go to a show alone, you know, always better to enjoy one with someone else."

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 11:24 am UTC (link)
She takes the money and pockets it.

"Of course I'm serious. I haven't been on a date since before I was married, much less since I've been divorced. You don't know how nice it is to be asked to such a thing, Mr. Gray. I can easily be ready in three hours."

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[info]hauntedportrait
2010-01-11 11:27 am UTC (link)
"In that case, it'll be my honor to take you out on the town tonight." He leaned close to her and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, smiling faintly. "Make it two and a half, we'll get good seats." That said, he stood, taking his books with him. "I'll be back then!" He called to her, grinning as he shouldered his way out the door and back onto the street.

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[info]ex_sable973
2010-01-11 11:34 am UTC (link)
"Two hours and a half, then," she replies quietly. Before he can get away, she catches him by the wrist and leans in to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "I'll be waiting."

And as he disappears into the street, she disappears into her rooms, and when he returns, she'll be there waiting, looking the part of a lady...

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