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Books & Tea Empty Books & Tea

Post by Fleur Tue Jan 11, 2022 1:43 am

Books & Tea B4eb9808e6fee6ebdd8d2030dce61fae


Fleur was obtuse and mindless to an array of things, and pallidly knew this; but to everything that was sunshine and wind, grassy scents and earthy colours, each blood cell in her had a marvelous chain reaction that hit her like a tidal wave.

She loved the softness of the fuzzy pollen clinging to her skin, the smell of it into which she snuggled deeply, the fingering of the wind in her dusted hair and through her crimson summer dress, and the greatness of the flower petals fanning around her womanly frame.  

She rose from nature’s bedding in what looked to be a lazy twirl as the amber flakes dispersed into the air with a violent toss of her wild mane.  

The wings on her back slowly opened to reveal a beautiful pattern of red and black. The tiny fairy was preparing for a wonderful flight.

‘Floo-floo!’ she could already hear the brothers in her mind. Their image of her was not yet tarnished by their family. Much of them were of a very outdated mindset, and it still shocked her to think that her brothers loved her.

Just thinking about it brought stupid tears to her eyes.

“It’s the pollen,” she told herself.

The sight of  Ilyanor revived memories of old and the fairly recent moon dance. And, unlike yesterday, it made her want to relive the past a little by visiting her favorite bookstore.

This was a mistake.

Not for her, but for the aforementioned bookstore suffering her bold-faced presence. No one knew of the actress, and that was the bizarre freedom of normalcy she embraced with a vigor.

“I am going to be straight with you, Sue. I don't care if you’ve got the easiest name in all the land. It’s refreshing. You’re a star to me,” a woman with massive waves of gold for hair said, stopping an entire line to give the woman her truest praise, “this peach cobbler tea is to die for. Where can I buy an entire stock of this?”

In the small line, one other fairy who was way prettier than herself, thoughtfully poked her head out of the small crowd, and became the voice the people really needed: “Some of us would like to actually order from the nice lady and not hold up a whole line, please!”

The blonde stopped running her happy mouth, her deep-set eyes drooping gradually to meet the unsettling frown on her ruby lips. Just who was this remarkably brave woman? All the best vibes for her, but also Fleur’s sincere condolences because she wasn’t going to hold back for the sake of peace.

From one ghostly pale fairy to another, after sizing up her fellow Skeletor with a notable squint, “Why don't you go haunt a house? Rattle some chains or something.” The catty Silverpine decided not to be a confrontational ninny today, and tipped the server complacently with a smile in her eyes and a playful nose crinkle. “Bye for now.”

Fleur appeared to have lost petty interest in the impatient woman, and walked away from the fragrant tea bar, seeming to forget her. Her indifference became amusement, and she no longer recognized the store’s layout, a sign of change and a whole lot of shelves. She didn’t read often, for she spent much time working, staying active, crying over cheesy operas when she wasn’t so busy.

“It smells a little musky in here, but that’s none of my business.” She said aimlessly, tapping the hardcover with her finely painted nails. She couldn’t resist touching and opening the row of musty old books, purely out of admiration for their aesthetic over any real interest in the content. She was one of those annoying bookstore goers, the type to never settle for just one good book, only peruse the hefty rows of novels forever and ever and leave the place empty-handed.

But then the grip on her cup loosened and the lukewarm liquid spilled upon another close by. The look on her face was priceless as she went from very calm to very flabbergasted in under three seconds. “Oh, fuck.” She snapped, raising her hands in front of her, as though they would do all the apologizing for her.

“I’m not even going to ask if you’re alright,” she stressed, “because it’s one of the dumbest questions you could ever ask somebody. It’s as plain as the nose on my face that you’re not. Just look at you…”

She had to take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. What’s your size, kiddo? I’ll buy you a new shirt.” She offered, keeping her distance.

Word Count; 765

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Books & Tea Empty Re: Books & Tea

Post by Ilias Thu Mar 10, 2022 5:37 am

spirit of my silence i hear you, singing for the dead
What a wonderfully curious thing it was to desire more than what one has, he thought. Every step he took felt like a novelty. Every little fantastical sight sent feather-light flutters upon his chest, slowly elevating his mood from the pits of monotony. He'd been confined for far too long.

It was odd how mortals craved, how they yearned, how this restlessness extended beyond what he believed to be his favorite things (as few as they were), and even those were not enough to stave off the monotony, the... boredom. There was so much more for him to experience.

What a wonderfully curious thing!

These crumbs of freedom clearly were not enough, yet he still found himself elated when afforded the chance to roam. The Gaiyans did not fully trust him, save for a select few from the church which had confined him to begin with. Really, he couldn't blame them—not even he understood the true nature of his own case.

Which is why, for the most part, they appointed him escorts. This time in the form of an elven priest—tall and stern and weathered by time—who struggled to follow after the wandering spirit.

"Slow down, slow down!" called the old elf with a rather authoritative voice.

The call fell on deaf ears as Ilias's footfalls quickened down the cobblestone paths, the ceremonial robes draped over his suit's shoulder pulling a small weight on his person. However, the rapid stride came to a sharp end when from his periphery did a bookstore garner his attention.

"Just this one place," he said, all his desire expelled in one gentle sigh, and turned to the priest with hands clasped in plea and the faintest of smiles. "Just this one place, Balin. Please."

Poor Balin had barely caught up, and spoke between tired breaths. "You'll be," he breathed, "stuck there forever, boy." He doubled over, hands on his knees. "But, I suppose," another breath, "it's better than the alternative."

That was all the permission needed.

Ilias nodded, a particularly happy glint to his eye, and immediately ditched the priestly elf without a word.

"He will find me," the spirit quietly said, although the words weren't directed towards himself at all. They were more a silent assurance for his warden the deeper he delved into the store "He will find me," he repeated, taking a random cover off a shelf, "hopefully hours later."

Within minutes one book became three, and three became a dozen. Titles ranging from simple romances to encyclopedias to history made their way onto the towering stack, none of them making any sense or following a recurring theme. He was one of those that could find interest in just about anything and, clearly, it showed. Though, the more titles he stacked the more he began to wonder if finding interest in so many books was a bad idea. Surely, he couldn’t read them in what little time he’d been afforded. Yet…

“Oh!” His musing were cut short, however, when he felt liquid spill onto his sleeve. It wasn’t hot enough to cause him any pain, but the unexpectedness caused his arm to recoil and with it did half the tower of paperbacks come tumbling from his grasp. “Oh… fuck?” he repeated absentmindedly, having heard the term before but never having assigned any meaning. Ilias only angled his head down at the newly formed mess with unnatural acceptance, shoulders visibly sagging at the possibility of damage.

"No, you are not wrong. I am not okay. In fact, I'm dying," he put it rather bluntly, too deadpan in its delivery to be taken as anything else but a joke as he squatted down. He really was dying. Did he already appear to be a corpse? Surely, he was pale but—

He'd barely given the voice a look over, only when he lifted his arm up to smell whatever tea had seeped into his clothes did he catch the ends of the scarlet dress and he looked up to find quite a lovely visage. A fae with hair the color of wild sunflowers and large eyes that matched her outfit and wings, sharing in the same reptilian-like pupils as he.

She asked another question. "My size? Uhm..." His brows furrowed and he stared at his himself in thought, lightly tugging at his suit and pondering over the measurements. "I am... unsure?"

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