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By the end of the day, Greenstone Books felt warm and steady against the growing dark outside. Thomas Book, dressed semi casually in khaki's and a white button-down shirt, moves through the aisles at an easy pace, straightening a crooked stack here, sliding a returned book back into place there, keeping himself busy without really trying.
A kettle warmed in the back, ready if guests stayed late. Every now and then he glanced toward the front door, not worried, just waiting. He liked this part of the evening—the calm before conversation, when the shop felt like it was holding its breath and he could pretend he was just a bookseller tidying up, not a man expecting something a little more complicated to walk through the door.
It's not the most discreet van on the planet, the fixed up oversized black thing that Olivia parked literally just outside the Greenstone Bookstore tonight, but it is certainly the largest vehicle on the entire street.
She gets out on the drivers' side with a clearly overfilled green felt bag over one shoulder, dressed in what looks a lot like an outfit for a party - cropped black jacket, glistening black leggings, bright white sneakers.
On the passeners' side there's Aries, apparently having caught a ride with her.
"Right, Greenstone as promised." she remarks lightly as she pulls the front door open, "Honey, I'm home!" she calls out brightly, cheerfully, and most of all loudly just as she steps inside.
Aries follows Olivia in, he is dressed somewhat oddly but doesn't mind if you don't. A body encased in a kind of skin tight suit, black, with a long chrome zipper as its prominent feature. In the good light there is stitching in places to break the tension and allow his limbs to articulate normally, he has on heavy boots, and the awkwardness of the bodysuit is somewhat offset by a long and beautiful wool coat that looks well loved and likely second hand. It might have been expensive once, to its original owner. On his face he is wearing sunglasses even inside, they cover his terrible eye but just enough that you can know its there lurking beneath and extending beyond the prophylactic barrier.
The bell over the door snapped through the quiet, and Thomas looked up from the counter without hurrying. He’d already noticed the oversized black van taking up half the curb outside, so the entrance wasn’t exactly a surprise. Olivia’s voice carried easily through the shop, bright and loud against the warm lamplight and close rows of books. Thomas closed the ledger he’d been half-reading, set his fountain pen neatly across the top, and stepped out from behind the counter. His expression settled into something polite and steady, but his eyes were sharp as they moved from Olivia to the unfamiliar man beside her—taking in the sunglasses worn indoors, the strange black suit, the heavy boots.
Unknown variable. He didn’t stare, didn’t react, just adjusted a stack of books near the register as if this were any other evening. "Evening, Olivia," he said calmly, voice carrying without rising. His gaze shifted briefly to Aries, measured but not unfriendly. "Welcome to Greenstone. I'm Thomas, but most people just call me "Book."
"Evening Book. You got my tea ready?" Olivia asks with a chortle as she reaches the counter, hoisting her shoulder-bag up onto the thing and letting it land atop it with a loud thud. Very heavily laden, it seems.
"I got two of the things you asked for with me, other stuff will take a few days to sort." she continues as she leans forward with her elbows against the wood, "I'm thinking it'll be done by Wednesday, if that's alright? Could do it a little faster but..." she shrugs, "Schoolwork you know?"
Aries took a lean on the nearby counter, adopting a companionable contrapposto worthy of a Roman Vase. "My name is Aries, I am glad to know you Book." he glanced around and commented, "This place is beautiful, all the different color book binding are a feast for the eyes and it smells divine in here." he seemed to know he wasn't dressed appropriately. "No disrespect intended Mr. Book." he didnt bother to explain he'd been working on something and the opportunity to come here just kind of happened.
Thomas didn’t flinch when the bag hit the counter, though the wood gave a low protest under the weight of it. He glanced at it once, measuring, then looked back to Olivia with a faint, knowing smile. "Tea’s steeping," he said calmly. At the mention of the items, he gave a small nod, unbothered. "Wednesday’s fine. None of it is urgent. Most of what I keep on hand is for contingencies — better to have it and not need it than the reverse."
There was no need to explain further; Olivia knew what his work required and how particular it could be. His gaze shifted then—subtle, deliberate — from her to Aries and back again. It wasn’t suspicion exactly, but it was assessment. A quiet, unspoken question passed in the look: Is he read in? Thomas rested one hand lightly against the counter’s edge, posture relaxed, expression neutral. "So where'd you find this one?" he asks of Aries, glancing at his odd choice of clothing but not with any venom to his words. His eyes lingered just a second longer on the guy before returning to Olivia, patient and waiting for the silent answer.
"Just in case is a good policy honestly," Olivia answers back in easy agreement, laughing a little before she glances over to Aries and shrugging, "and him? Well, found him during market day, then again outside the house of a shared acquaintance tonight. He seems pretty cool, though he has... a ton of barbed wire for some reason."
That last comment is accompanied by a twitch of her lips, a smirk, "Either way, he's Community so don't worry about it. I... don't know what he's into though, if that's what you're asking."
"There are two travelling circuses and one freak show that hit here every year, they usually pull me in, and sometimes I do shows at clubs but I'm not really consistent. Escapes are my heart, truly. Now close magic fills in the gap, pays the bills." he lays out the particulars like they need to pay attention, "The Carnies usually pull me enough money to float, but if it gets lean I will stoop to close magic in clubs. Busking pays better than the clubs, but the nicer parts of town the cops give you shit, and anywhere else its easy to get robbed. If you see me Busking I'm having a bad month, but in the post David Blane era people love it." he rounds out with "I fucking hate money."
Thomas listened without interrupting, one hand resting lightly on the counter while the other reached back to pour Olivia's tea as promised. He handed it over without looking away from Aries for long. "Community is good," he said evenly, tone thoughtful rather than dismissive. "Back in Boston, where I'm from, things got... strange a few years back. Pandemic, lockdowns, people fraying at the edges. The folks who knew about the world beneath the world? We tightened ranks. Looked out for each other. Shared information. Supplies." He pauses for a few moments and gestures to a cup as if asking if Aries would like some as well before continuing, "Warnings. Started thinking of ourselves less like rival practitioners and more like a very large, usually dysfunctional family." His gaze settled more fully on Aries now, calm but intent. "Family doesn't mean trust without question. It means accountability. If you're in, you're in. We don't bring trouble to each other's doors, and we don't ignore it when it shows up." He let that sit for a beat, not confrontational - just clear. "That's an interesting idea," he comments about Aries work with Busking and adds, "Oh...I hate money too. This," he gestures to the bookstore, "... is just so I don't go crazy being bored."
At first Olivia didn't actually pay attention to Aries explanation, instead taking out her phone to check a notification, but as he continues her gaze is drawn over to him with that looks like faintly expressed concerned.
"Yeah... gonna be honest, I love money - but all the shit around getting it and all? Money itself is just... things? Food, home, security, drugs-" she reaches out and picks up her teacup, sentence cut off right there.
"It's the freedom to help your neighbors as well." she adds after a moment, before lifting the cup to her lips and taking a small and rather cautious sip.
Aries sighed gratefully, "Glad you said, I'm high as fuck right now." and let that sit in the air as he took a cup of offered tea.
Thomas did not visibly react to Aries' admission, though there was the faintest pause in the way he set his own cup down. He let the silence stretch just long enough to make it clear he had heard it and filed it away. His expression stayed level, thoughtful rather than judgmental.
"All right," he said calmly, voice even and steady. "Then let's keep tonight simple." His eyes shifted briefly to Olivia, acknowledging her comment about money with a small nod. "Freedom matters. Stability matters. However you define it." Then back to Aries. "But if you're high, we are not discussing anything that requires precision, consent, or memory. This shop is a place for conversation, not confession. Especially not impaired confession." He smiles a bit and rests his palms lightly on the counter, posture relaxed but grounded. "You are welcome here. Both of you are. And spread the word to others. I'd like to make this a safe space for us folk, ya know?"
"Oh I'm not high, Jesus," Olivia answers almost sharply, looking surprised, "I said I'd come, would've been rude to drop in under the influence Book."
She makes an almost dismissive gesture with her free hand, almost as if brushing something away, "I appreciate you keeping things like that in mind when making deals though, the Market" the capital letter is audible with ease there, "drives me up the walls with it's Caveat Emptor bullshit for absolutely everything."
Another sip of tea, her gaze travelling to Aries eyes for a moment and then down along his body before returning to Book.
"This guy though kinda... didn't plan on come here I don't think? And so wetsuit, being high, talking about razorwire, at least partially my fault he's here like this."
Aries smiled pleasantly despite the criticism, he held up a finger to stop them both preparing his explanation and then just sighed and relented. Taking off his sunglasses to finally show himself for true. "Sure, next time. As I said, no disrespect intended. I had other plans this evening, but when Liv suggested it I felt like I had to come."
When Aries removed the sunglasses, Thomas' gaze did not flinch or linger rudely, but it did sharpen. He took in what was revealed with the same quiet assessment he gave everything else. "No disrespect taken," he replied calmly. "Unexpected company is not a crime." His posture remained relaxed, hands resting lightly against the counter, but there was a quiet steadiness to him now, something rooted. "If tonight was unplanned, then tonight stays light. Tea. Conversation. No business beyond introductions." His eyes moved once between them, not accusatory, simply confirming the balance of the room.
"I can almost smell the secrets coming off ya," he smiles to Aries trying to keep the mood light in the conversation.
Aries commented mildly after sipping his tea, "You'd be surprised how much cover confession actually provides." and then excuses himself to the rest room.
It's a casual movement, Olivia shifting her shoulders in a small shrug in answer to Aries explanation. "Yeah look love, neither of us is bothered I don't think - so much as just telling you that I recognize that I got you here when you didn't plan to, and also letting Book here know that's the case."
As the man wanders off towards the bathroom she turns back to Book, "So anyways, we didn't get very far in the market but you mentioned books on Craft, you got a selection for me to peruse, or a list or something?"
Thomas gave a small nod and moved without hurry into the shelves, returning a moment later with a short stack of books that he set down carefully in front of her. He turned each one so the spine faced out. “Ritual structure and theory,” he said, tapping the first. “Solid grounding. This one covers spirit negotiation - less command, more contract. This one’s modern warding work. Practical. Clean.” His finger rested last on the thicker, older volume. “And that’s case studies. Practitioners who lived long enough to document their mistakes.
Olivia tilts her head to one side as she peers down at the books, not reaching for them but rather focusing first on the case studies and seeming to go over all the visual details with a slightly furrowed brow. "Interesting selection that, I have to say. I- well, most of the time the books aren't even in English."
A little laugh escapes her as she tentatively, with a hesitant look to Book himself as if to make sure it's alright, reaches over to run slender fingers along the spine. "And require me to wear gloves." she adds as she moves her other hand out along the counter, moving the cup a full arms-length away from the volumes in front of her.
"Not sure I need a grouding in ritual workups anymore, been at this a good while now, but I'll admit I'm also sort of... fascinated by modern works on Craft - real ones I mean, since the fresh and fake shit is everywhere."
Thomas caught the implication in her careful handling and gave a faint shake of his head. "They are not relics," he clarified, tone easy. "Nothing brittle. Most of what I stock for working practitioners are durable editions - hand copied, reprinted, sometimes rebound. If a book cannot survive being used, it has no business in working hands." There was a quiet note of principle in that. He brushed his thumb lightly along the edge of the older case study volume. "Some bindings are a few decades old, sure. But I prefer books that can lie open on a table without falling apart."
He studied her expression as she weighed them. "Modern Craft writing is crowded. A lot of performance masquerading as practice. The real ones tend to write plainly, sometimes cautiously. They assume their reader already knows the basics and is looking for refinement, not spectacle." His gaze flicked briefly to the stack. "I curate for that. Material meant to be worked with, not displayed."
Aries wandered around the book store as they spoke, he was present and listened. He let the focus on him cool off, he was still the peacock, just not strutting at the moment. He selected a reprinting of Robert Chambers, and opened it, finding a place to lean his body and tuck his chin to his chest and read from the center of the book on.
"Yeah, I've begun copying over the works I've acquired into more durable formats." is the quiet agreement Olivia gives as she slides the book on rituals on over to herself and, with a practiced ease full of habits only those used to handling very old books would recognize, uses both hands to open it at the halfway mark.
She doesn't look like she's even entirely aware of how she does it, the slowing of the movement after the first inch, the glance towards the inner bindings before she lets it go farther than a few inches, the splayed fingers on the outside of the book and the opposite hand very gently guiding the pages along. "Would prefer digitization for it all, in truth, but text recognition is... kinda shit for alternate alphabets, even more so for the handwritten stuff." she adds distractedly as she begins to study the pages open before her; a partial ritual layout portrayed on one and cramped text on the other. "So for most of it I'm doing manual work, which is a hell of a process."
homas noticed Aries drifting into the shelves but did not interfere; the fact that he chose Robert Chambers earned the faintest flicker of approval before Thomas returned his attention to Olivia. He watched the way she opened the book - the controlled pressure, the pause at the binding, the way her fingers supported the spine without stressing it. That told him more than her words had. "Manual copying forces you to read differently," he said quietly. "Slower. More deliberate. You catch structural flaws that way. Or hidden ones."
He leaned one hip lightly against the counter. "Digitization has its place, but Craft rarely survives compression. Symbols lose proportion. Margins matter. Spacing matters. Even ink density can matter, depending on what you are doing." His gaze dropped briefly to the ritual layout she was studying. "If you are rebuilding your library for longevity, do it in stages. Core workings first. Refinements later. Otherwise you spend years preserving theory you may never use."
Ares mouthed the words he was reading, then looked into the middle distance and closed the book and mouthed them again. He shook his head subtly and then turned and placed the book back on the shelf, pressed it into place almost reverently with both hands. Then he strode back over to rejoin the fellowship and his cup of tea. He sipped and looked for his chance to jump back into the conversation.
"I'm building it still, honestly. Before October I had only ever touched a single book on Craft." Olivia answers in that same quietly distracted tone, "Since then I've gotten some choice volumes however, and most of those are in... poor condition, hence the copying. Preservation as I build, sort of thing? As for the digital thing not preserving everything I- dunno."
She scoffs lightly as she shuts the book again, the same absently careful mannerisms seeming to apply to this as well. "Personally I preserve physical dimensions in the documents as well though, since some sigils are specified to have that matter that much."
Thomas let the conversation taper naturally, then began the quiet choreography of closing - lamps dimmed, counter cleared, books squared back into place. He walked them to the door with easy composure. "Thank you for coming by," he said simply. "Both of you. The door is always open if you want to get together and talk shop - properly planned next time." There was a faint, knowing look at that.
He unlocked the door, stepped aside to let them out, then locked it again once they were on the sidewalk. "I have a few things to see to upstairs," he added, already turning the key. "Safe travels." The shop settled back into its familiar quiet as he shut off the last of the lights below, leaving only the soft glow from the stairwell leading up to his apartment.
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