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 Posted: Sun Jan 14, 2007 7:35 pm
"I don't see why I gotta go with you to the stupid bookstore," Brunswick complained as he lounged on Jack's shoulder, half-hidden by the collar of the man's trench coat. "It's not like I need anything."
Jack managed to keep his face neutral as he put his hand to the front door of the shop. Then a smile came to his face, natural and engaging, the moment he pushed through and nodded to the college-age girl manning the register. He waited until he was safely in the section marked fairy tales before he whispered, "No, but we both needed t' be well outta that house. You saw her. Evie's on a tear. Best t' just leave her with Callisto."
That was greeted with sullen silence and Jack made his way down the aisle and had reached mythology before the feien on his shoulder snorted. "Not afraid of her," Brunswick muttered. "She's just a kid and you've spoiled her rotten. That's why she's being such a bi-..."
"Is that a feien over there?" Jack interrupted. He knew that, on principle, he'd have to hold Brunswick upside down and shake him a bit if he was allowed to finish his sentence. The way Evie was acting lately, though... You couldn't blame the feien for wanting to curse. He pointed. "Over there."
Brunswick perked up, craning his neck. "Looks like."
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Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 12:36 am
A musty old book at least as thick as a bible stood propped open in a little nook, half-hidden on a tall empty shelf in the corner of the mythology section, its worn leather binding darkened and flaking with age. The embossing on the cover was nearly impossible to make out, as time seemed to have nearly worn the once-ornate lettering smooth. A thick blanket of dust covered that forgotten niche of rich wood shelving, at least ankle deep for the tiny person who had left miniature footprints and a few scuff marks in it and... was that a faceprint? The solemn old tome seemed to be softly humming an airy little tune as the pair walked right past, fascinated by something on the other side of the room.
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Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2007 8:40 pm
Brunswick suddenly tugged on a piece of Jack's hair. "Idiot, no. Listen."
Stopping with weary obedience, the British magician stood next to the dusty shelf as his feien stood slowly, balancing. He tilted his head first one way and then the other. Then he squinted down at the shelf. Brunswick pointed with a smirk. "There. Someone's there." Without warning, he stepped off his perch and flapped over to land in the dust. in front of the book The immediate explosion had him coughing, however, and he doubled over, choking.
Jack did his best not to laugh.
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