Dog-Eared and Dusty

Jun 15th, 2015 07:33 PM

Doors open to foot traffic and the evening breeze, Marginalia Books was enjoying a sort of renaissance. A post on a popular 'local flavor' blog had turned eyes back in their direction, praising the diversity of what could be found and putting a highlight on their penchant for buying exactly what their name suggested. The curiously thorough Occult and Folklore sections were mentioned in passing, the butt of an affectionate laugh, but the majority of attention fell on the breadth of novels and poetry. The store had long since turned its lack of space and basic organization into a selling point, with books stacked on tables and occasionally on the floor, shelves reaching higher than most customers could reach. The sensation of walking into a literary hoarder's attic was one they had cultivated carefully, and one that was slightly diminished by so many visitors. Not that anyone really minded.

Shopping waned with the day, and dusk found Reluctant Gravities held loosely in Ava's hand as she stared ceiling-ward with the look of someone who was still reading, eyes scanning the pitted walls. Lips moving ever so slightly, she turned a couple of phrases over in thought, trying to form a conclusion before simply pressing on. It was her first read-through, she wasn't expecting to come away enlightened, but occasionally she needed a moment to make sure she wasn't totally lost. Tucking a bit of damp hair behind her ear, the snaggle-toothed woman returned to her marked page.

The heat was finally beginning to dissipate, the standing fans and open door doing their job as she rested behind the desk. She didn't mind working later, with the new hours and the summer heat, and there was no rush to get home. The only small discomfort was the basic necessity of her Mask, pulled up to ward away prying eyes in the swell of visitors. With the recent spike in business there had been more turn over to handle, more books to settle and shuffle and price. Which she needed to get back to doing, probably. Setting the small volume aside, spot carefully marked, she turned the radio on low and headed for the front display, most in need of a little love and tidying.

-1 Glamour for Hardened Mask

Jun 15th, 2015 08:09 PM

Just outside, David stops and turns his head up towards the sky. Most of the stars above are hidden away, casualties of a war of light that is won by the warming glow of cities. Summer pushes down on his shoulders, trying it's darnedest to slow the thoughtful movement David has adopted, like it has seemingly slowed everything else. Nothing can be discerned by those few stubborn stars that can still be seen, however, and the thin, gangly man quietly slips into Marginalia.

The name inspires a bit of amusement in the Mortician, funny how a few letters can change the meaning of a word so completely. A thought, more of a question blossoms, wondering if the Sylph he remembers from so long ago now, has visited this bookshop with her caramel macciato and bohemian style.

Stolen life warms David's features, blood moving through veins in a subtle dance that only Igor Stravinsky might appreciate.

As David steps inside, dull-brown eyes travel upwards, following the line of one particular pile of books. To him, it seems almost like a Jenga Tower, poised to collapse if the wrong book is chosen. The helter-skelter arrangement of the books is immediately daunting, even the Library of the Chapter House in its heyday was far more organized.

David picks his way through carefully, glancing at Ava and greeting the shopkeeper with a small nod of his head. Though he is not at all sure where he can start.

-1V Blush

Jun 15th, 2015 08:51 PM

L’aire had finished a session that evening, the nights were beautiful and instead of driving the noisy truck everywhere, walking was preferred. She’d thought about stopping for coffee, but that evening the Dancer pressed forward. Something insider her as of late made her want to change a thing or two. Striving to be more than just what she looked like.

Approaching Marginalia Books, the Fairest was masked of course from the day’s time at the Studio. In looking for her own studio space, she’d seen this place a couple of times but there was never time to stop in until now. That and it was generally busy within the store, considering the Fairest was already embarrassed about what she needed from the bookstore, it was more than difficult for her to enter.

L’aire walked in, the thick air didn’t phase her at all. No matter where she was, the Onyx was always cool and sometimes far colder than her surroundings. Her satin like sundress flowed with the breeze from the fan and the Fairest smiled to see her fellow Lost. “Hello Ava.”

It was then she saw the man, thin and slightly lanky. “Oh!!” She said in a loud whisper. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you had customers.” Pausing. “I mean, well I will probably be a customer. Um, if you sell that type of book. Or… uh. I don’t want to be a bother if you have people here.”

The Onyx took a step back and toward the door.

-1 Glamour, Hardened Mask

Jun 15th, 2015 11:01 PM

In the midst of cleaning up the one orderly part of the store, the display, Ava returned the thin man's nod with a smile. Twisted teeth aside, her mouth always felt a litte too wide. "Evening. Let me know if I can help you find anything," she said with composed warmth, happy to let him browse in peace if that was what he desired.

The appearance of the ethereal dancer surprised her, having seen the woman enough to recognize her without the trappings of her Mien but they'd never actually been introduced. Still, the Freehold wasn't large enough for many strangers. "Hi Sasha-" About to go on, she paused to listen to the quick string of whispers and had to try very hard not to make a joke about 'that type of book.' It would be so easy to direct her to the smutty Romance section. So easy.

Instead, she satisfied herself with an amused but kindly grin and a small 'don't worry about it' shake of her head. "What are you looking for?" If it was sensitive, they'd figure out a way to do business regardless of who was there.

Jun 16th, 2015 11:53 AM

“To be honest,” David replies to Ava's greeting while looking at the daunting arrangement of books, “I'm... not quite sure where to start.” A finger browses a colorful spine of an ancient Llewellyn Worldwide magazine that exclaims, in bold print, directions on how to find your spiritual-center. When David was younger, he knew of the company – they are based in Minneapolis – but as an Occultist, he respects their gnostic and goetic beginnings.

The scarecrow of a man taps the magazine, joking half-to-himself, “Though, I wonder when they decided to take on the more palatable term of 'New Age.'” Rather than what they are, 'Neo-pagan' or 'Occult.'

L'aire breezing into the bookstore catches David by surprise and with Ava's recognition, he simply nods and offers a faint “Ma'am” in her direction.

Something else catches David's attention when he turns away to afford Ava and Sasha a bit of privacy. Its ornate red, black, and white cover is striking against the more dour bits and bobs. It is less a book and more a tome although the gleaming silver of its spine declares it to be a Variorum, and one of John Donne's poetry no less.

Jun 16th, 2015 07:03 PM

L’aire felt herself beg to shrink into the background of the towering shelves of books. She was out of her comfort zone by far more than usual and it showed.

The man in the store looked intelligent, and the Dancer’s face took on guilty notes. “Hello.” The Fairest’s violet eyes looked to David’s, then to the floor, and toward Ava. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Um, I’m just going to wander….” L’aire looked left, then right, then down the center as quick as she could. “Down that way.”

“Or, um point me to personal guidance.” In an attempt to sound remotely smart. She of course meant self-help.

“I’m really sorry sir. I’ll be out of your way.” L’aire looked sidelong toward him and to her fellow Lost, but her eyes remained focused toward the ground. This was not her realm. In fact, she may as well have stepped into the Hedge for as out of place as she felt within the stacks and smell of book glue and pages of knowledge.

Jun 18th, 2015 06:56 PM

"Sure thing, self help is just down there," she indicated a nearby case with a couple of stacks on the floor in front of it as well. "There's a sign, but we need to reprint them, they're getting pretty banged up. And... bordering on irrelevant," she added with rueful amusement. She didn't mind the mess so much, it allowed her to find things she wasn't looking for; but it could be hell for people who came in with specific titles.

"Oh, but if it's spiritual guidance, that's a little further back," she said, realizing she may have misunderstood the request. The many apologies caught her a little off guard, unsure of what to do with them beyond simple dismissal. Giving Sasha a smile, she picked up a couple of misplaced textbooks and moved to set them on the desk. "Wandering isn't a bad idea, though."

True to what the gangly man had said, he seemed a little at a loss in their giant mess of pages and spines. But he'd managed to find himself sandwiched between poetry and some scraps of occult, so he clearly wasn't doing too badly. At least not to her mind.

"Seems like a pretty good place to start," she said genially, if a little belated.

Jun 18th, 2015 11:41 PM

“Please don't worry about it,” David murmurs to L'Aire in pastoral tones towards the dancer. The bookstore looked to be big enough for the three of them, after all. If he's honest, it's David that feels like the odd man out. The two women seem to know one another. Did that make him an accidental interloper?

The voluminous variorum finds a temporary home tucked beneath David's arm. Hearing Ava's belated statement, David casts a bashful glance in her direction. “Yeah, I guess. I've been a fan of John Donne's poetry for a while now.” Taking another measure of section he's found himself in, he adds, “I guess there's nothing else to do but to dig in.”

In a voice half to himself David archly says, “Hopefully, I won't need a ball of red-yarn to find my way back as I explore.”

Jun 19th, 2015 08:39 PM

Holding her breath as Ava rattled off all the stuff on self or spiritual help, she felt a little embarrassed. Then again, it was only Ava and an unknown gentleman who was probably more focused on the bindings and titles than herself.

Cautiously making her way down the aisle, the Fairest caught a name that the man had mentioned. She didn’t know many poets other than the widely popular names; Shakespeare, Poe, or E.E. Cummings. She distinctly remember the last one for a poem called ‘i carry your heart with me’. It was one she could actually relate to and didn’t go over her head.

Perusing the bindings herself, titles that popped out to her were Overcoming Social Anxiety, Speaking with Confidence, which was more applicable than, Shyness, The Beating Shyness Workbook and a few others. Her brows knitted together slightly overwhelmed by the variety.

Her thoughts drifted when she couldn’t figure out what that guy meant by the red yarn.

**Malcolm Green** · Jun 19th, 2015 09:42 PM

A huge shadow falls across the door, resolving slowly into the mountain as he squeezes through the door. He's back in his shirt, sleeves rolled up over his heavy arms. Boots clomp loudly as he makes his ponderous way. Finally achieving entry, Malcolm Green spares a grunt of recognition for Ava - its a deeply layered grunt with many, multiple, meanings. Sighting Sasha, his impassive face opens up in surprise.

"Uh. Hey... Sasha! Yeah. Uh. Didn't expect to see you here."

It does not appear that the mountain has registered David's presence. Like so many in life, Green seems to overlook the quiet and studious man.

Dog-Eared and Dusty

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