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What possessed her to come out to such an event? Well, it's simple. Her job, of course. One of them anyway... Whatever the case may truly be, Serqet finds herself stepping through the door to Greenstone Books with her hands shoved into the pockets of her blue denim jacket. She casts her strange eyes about the room, drinking in who is present... Committing them to memory, no doubt, from the intensity in her stare. In the end, she steps away from the door and towards one of the fiction shelves, heedless of the book signing going on infront of her. If she knows who Daniel Harrow is, she certainly shows no signs of recognition.
She's 'just' here for the shelves, it would seem! Not to say her demeanor is overtly brusque, but it is certainly singular.
Before the door even opens, the sweet sounds of a light melody can be picked up by anyone with ears that function. No words, just sounds. Just as the doors open for Serqet to enter, the lovely red haired woman steps inside. "Oh.. oh! Look at all the books here!" It's like she is overwhelmed with the knowledge before her. She closes her eyes and takes in the scent. "What a treasure trove it is!"
Book had positioned himself near the signing table but not behind it, allowing Daniel Harrow the spotlight while he played host. When the first woman stepped through the door, hands in her jacket pockets and gaze sharp as a blade, he noticed immediately. He always noticed the ones who mapped a room before relaxing in it. He did not approach her at once; instead, he logged the intensity, the purposeful drift toward the fiction shelves, the lack of interest in the guest of honor. Noted. Filed. Welcome all the same.
The melody reached his ears before the second guest crossed the threshold, and this time his attention shifted with open curiosity. He turned as the red-haired woman entered, taking in the wonder in her voice and the way she breathed in the shop like it was incense. That earned a warmer smile. "Good evening," he called gently, projecting just enough to reach both newcomers without disturbing the signing. "Welcome to Greenstone Books. Please, explore. If you need anything at all, I am Thomas - but most people just call me Book." His tone was calm, measured, and quietly proud - this was his space, and tonight it was meant to be shared.
Serqet looks over her shoulder as Arielle speaks, wearing a small smile. "A treasure trove, for sure. Just think of the history to these books, too! How many times must they have been read, and by how many different people?" She hums satisfactorily, turning back toward the shelf she was on.
"So much color when you think of it that way." She concludes, nodding satisfactorily. The opposite of brusque, indeed... She just seems to have a quiet intensity about her, likely beyond her control. At least she's not a troublemaker.
"Book?" She asks toward Thomas, her smile growing wider. "What an apt name for you! I presume you're the owner, Mister Book? Or are you just the lucky employee on event duty?"
Arielle is all smiles here, and light. "Oh thank you, Mr. Book! I appreciate it! I would love to explore. Do you have any books on music? Or the ocean?" She isn't sure where to start or what she could find in here. As she looks around, she sees there is what may be an event going on. "Oh, am I disturbing some party here? It is ok to just look around?"
Thomas inclined his head slightly to Serqet, accepting the edge in her observation without bristling at it. “Owner,” he confirmed with a faint smile. “Thomas Book. The name is older than the shop, I’m afraid. German in origin I believe. Buch-something. It basically means the same thing.” His tone was dry but warm. “And you’re not wrong. Every used volume in here has lived at least one life before arriving on these shelves. That is part of the appeal.” His gaze lingered just long enough to meet hers directly, acknowledging the intensity without challenging it. “You are welcome to browse. Fiction is to your left, history along the back wall if you prefer something less imagined.”
He turned smoothly to Arielle, the warmth in his expression softening further. “You are not disturbing anything at all. We are hosting a small signing this evening, but the store is fully open.” He gestured lightly toward the side aisles. “Music theory and composition are along the far right shelves. As for the ocean, you will find maritime history in the rear corner and a modest selection of poetry and folklore near the windows. Please, take your time. That is what the place is for.” The whole time he's speaking to the woman, his eyes have bloomed to life - trying to take in the radiant beauty she so calmly exudes. Who is this woman...hell, 'what' is this woman who walks as though she were made of the same stuff as he?
"History is of interest, for sure." Serqet says, meeting his gaze when he stares into her eyes. And as he does, it's not just that intensity that is of note... Her eyes are... Genuinely strange. Beautiful yes, but in a way they simply ought not be. A way that can't likely be accomplished with anything like colored contacts, either. They're like winter ice... Frozen and responsive to light in the way you'd expect of something like an icicle. But when he looks away? So too does she. "That makes sense! German would be a perfectly believable origin. I speak alittle, though not too terribly much. And, I'll say, it's a good thing you've done here. Opening a place like this. We have all sorts of book shops in prospect but, as far as used books go? It's slim pickings. And you find the 'best' stuff in secondhand stores you know?" She fully turns away from the shelves, stepping away from them toward the relative center of the room for conversation.
"Since you've introduced yourself, I'm Serqet. People tend to just call me Qet, though, so don't stress the same." She, too, finds those eyes of hers on Arielle. Her lips half part, but she says nothing untoward.
"I 'love' your hair, Miss. How long did it take to grow so long?"
Arielle looks pleased to know where books she would enjoy are. "Many thanks, kind sir." Introductions are happening! "Where are my manners! I am Arielle." The question from Serqet happens, and she touches her own hair, letting it fall now over her shoulder and down in front of her. She strokes it blindly a bit. "Oh, many years. I have not really cut it... ever? I do not think? I don't remember. Most of my life." It isn't like Rapunzel long, but certainly it is impressive.
Thomas held Serqet’s gaze a fraction longer than was polite, not in challenge but in quiet study. The quality of her eyes did not escape him. He did not react outwardly, but he noticed. He always noticed. “German roots, yes,” he replied mildly. “Though the name has had time to settle into something more local. But the family's been in Boston since the revolution - and deeply connected to the older families there.” He gave a small nod at her praise. “Used books have always been a particular joy of mine. You find marginalia, pressed flowers, forgotten notes. Evidence of previous lives.”
He folded his hands loosely in front of him, posture easy. “The shop is something of a hobby, truth be told. I keep used volumes, yes, but also affordable textbooks for the campus nearby, journaling supplies, decent paper, fountain pens. It keeps me occupied. Gives me a place to not be bored.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “And, occasionally, it serves as a quiet haven for people who prefer quieter spaces.” His attention shifted briefly to Arielle, warm again. “You are both very welcome here. Explore as long as you like and help yourself to the refreshments.”
"Well... Wow. It looks like magic on you! Alot of things would, I'm sure." Serqet... Looks away from arielle then. It took a bit of effort, but it was not an impossible task for her. She looks back toward Book. "That must be the best part. Finding things people left behind, and forgot about. I like to think about what other readers must feel when I read something particularly impactful. And knowing it was once someone else's only intensifies that little hobby." She steps back then, hands still in her pockets, glancing back at the shelves again like they'd entranced her.
"But I'll definitely browse about. The refreshments are appreciated too! If you wanna talk, you'll know where I am. I don't mind at all." And then she disappears behind a shelf. Observing the fiction books again, looking for that perfect fit…
The door clatters a little as young woman, attired in an outfit more suited to clubbing than bookstore openings, pushes her way in through the door with a bright call of "Honey, I'm home!" accompanied by a bright and delighted laugh, mirth writ plain across her features.
Her glossy cropped jacket, black and shorter than most, leaves her abdomen and back bare, and shimmering black leggings cling tight to the curve of her legs. They're fit, not overly muscular but enough that one can tell through that fabric.
"You got my tea rea-" she begins to say as she brings a green felt shoulder-bag up, moving for the counter and intending to put it up, but that is as far as she gets before she spots Arielle and all motion seems to leave her.
She just stops in her steps, eyes fixed and wide in surprise, lips parted halfway through that sentence... and stares. "I-" she starts, and stops, and it doesn't seem she's about to start again any time soon.
Arielle looks over toward where the books are that Book mention would be for the maritime history and spies a book of folklore on her way. "Ooo! What is this! Oh wait is that a seawitch?" She puts it back. Not interested now. But something else catches her eye. It's a book of different fish species found in the Pacific Ocean. "Perfect! This will help!" She takes it out and starts looking it over. "This looks just like Henry." She looks up hearing the door clatter a bit as it opens and a new woman enters. She smiles and waves her way, happy as a clam to see a new person. "Evening! I'm Arielle!" Because we are doing introductions and all. She's beautiful, friendly, and looking over a book.
Thomas inclined his head slightly to Serqet as she withdrew, accepting her rhythm without pressing further. “Enjoy the shelves,” he said quietly, and meant it. His attention shifted as the door clattered open and the bright, familiar voice carried through the shop. The interruption drew his gaze automatically—then it stalled.
Something about Arielle's presence pressed against his senses in a way he could not immediately categorize. It was not simply beauty. It was weight. Radiance. His focus fixed before he consciously pulled it back into place. “Good evening,” he managed evenly towards Olivia, though his voice had to find itself. His eyes lingered despite himself, studying the way she held the book, the way she seemed genuinely delighted by it. Then he blinked, breath measured, and forced his attention outward again—host first, always host. “Welcome. Tea is by the counter.”
Eventually, Serqet finds her way back to the closer side of the shelves, once more in sight. She doesn't have any books in hand just yet, but eher peculiar eyes do find themselves on Olivia as the woman enters... She speaks, and speaks brightly! "Hello there! I don't need to say it, but welcome!" She has no idea who this person is, but that doesn't stop her in the least. Soon after this she fully saunters around the corner, eyes turning toward the refreshments as she continues on her path that way. When she arrives? A single pastry is taken up and she begins to neatly chomp. No mess!
"I gotta say." She says after swallowing, "I might pick up Mister Harrow's book while he's here, if there's any available. I've never read it, but it's probably right up my alley." Another chomp. The pastry stands no chance.
The name given, that seems to put some motion back into Olivia who stutters out another "I-" before her voice seems to fail her yet again - and a bright crimson flush blooms across her features.
Her eyes fly over towards Book, uncertain, confused, but most of all still quite wide and pupils blown out. "I mean- what?" she finally manages, directed at the man, before her gaze is drawn seemingly of it's accord back to impossible angelic creature.
"Fuck." she finally adds, bag clattering against the floor as she distractedly drops it where she stands and takes one small, and plainly hesitant, stop closer to the woman.
Introduction however? That does not seem to be something she caught onto.
Arielle begins to realize something may be amiss here. Oh yeah. She's used to dealing not with the public too often. She slips the book away on the shelf and walks cloer to Olivia. The bag dropped, she offers, "Here, let me help you. Sometimes these things can be slippery. Wouldn't want to hurt any of your thingamabobbers in there." Because words are interesting! She reaches down, bending her knees (yay for legs!) and offers it to Olivia. "Some tea I'm sure will help make things right as rain."
The signing table near the front windows had drawn a modest but steady line, Daniel Harrow seated behind a neat stack of hardcovers while a small handwritten placard announced the occasion. The low hum of conversation filled the shop, punctuated by the soft scratch of pen against title pages and the occasional polite laugh from readers clutching well-thumbed copies. A tray of tea and small pastries rested near the counter, lending warmth to the gathering without overwhelming it, and lamplight pooled golden against the greenstone walls as dusk settled outside.
Thomas stepped forward just enough to intercept escalation without making it obvious. "Tea is steadying," he said calmly, tone even and grounded. "And the pastries are safer than they look." It was light on the surface, but deliberate underneath - an anchor tossed into choppy water. His eyes met Olivia's briefly, firm but not unkind, a silent reminder: breathe. Then, as Arielle bent to retrieve the bag, he added gently, "We are very informal here. No need to rush introductions. The evening is long."
Serqet seems to settle herself in for the occasion where she stands, watching the e3xcjange between Arielle and Olivia with quiet amusement... And admiration, of course. It's not that she's unaffected by it. Certainly bloody not. But she's got a strong will that wouldn't break for something like an alien beauty the likes of which she'd never-
Okay, so it breaks 'alittle.' She's just... Staring. Not improperly, but in clear admiration and bewonderment.
"Right." She suddenly says, "Long evening. Very... Very long evening." She still doesn't look away from the three of them, content to watch what happens next.
"Oh- I-" Olivia starts again as Arielle comes up to her, eyes following as the woman hunkers down to pick up that green felt from the floor and hand it back to her.
Books' soft words don't even earn him a glance, just a quietly strangled mewl which might also have been meant as an answer to Arielles' words - it would go to reason given how Olivia's entire face is naught but crimson. "Hi-" she manages to squeak out then, managing a minute movement backwards that is immediately countered by her left hand coming out halfway as if to touch the woman before she seems to catch herself.
Arielle sees the left hand coming toward her. This is shaking hands right? But with the left? Why not! Maybe some humans do it that way too. So she offers a left hand as well, with a little curtsy. Yes, Humans curtsy! She learned that one! "Pleased to meet you!" She offers and then says, "Let me get you some tea. Would you like sugar? Milk? Honey?" She knows these things! "Serqet? Would you lke some too? Mr. Book?" It's his place, must be nice to him.
"Tea?" Serqet asks rhetorically, blinking back to her senses just like that! "I'd love some tea! Tea with honey sounds amazing actually. I can come over with you and make my own while you make theirs?" She steps away from her place, toward the ensemble with her hands back in her pockets. She must have polished of fthat pastry at some point! "What did you say your name was again, ma'am? I don't think I caught it. My mind is a wanderer today, it'd seem." Nevermind that it's because of Arielle. That's unimportant info!
"Like she said, I'm Serqet. Good to meet another face!" She chimes toward Olivia, smiling gracefully as she draws closer. Assuming Olivia can hear anything yet, of course.
Shellshock is intense.
Thomas felt the temperature of the room tilt in a way that had nothing to do with climate control. Olivia's attention is wrapped up and given to the Red Headed Goddess (tm) in the room and even Serqet's eyes are drawn in her direction a few times. He, at least, tries to stay focused to assist the book signing and welcoming new folks who have come in to look around.
Arielle, meanwhile, moved through it all with disarming sincerity, offering her left hand without hesitation, curtsying as if the gesture were perfectly natural. The normalcy of it was almost more destabilizing than anything else. While stepped away from the scene between Olivia and Arielle, Book can't help but mutter a few lines from a favored poem that seems oddly fitting - just something to distract his brain while tending to the open house.
"She Walks in Beauty...Like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies..."
Once the affairs are tended to, he steps back to keep the conversation going with the others. “Tea would be appreciated,” he said gently, voice steady and deliberate, accepting the rhythm Arielle offered but grounding it. “Honey, if you please.” His eyes moved to Olivia again, softer this time. “Breathe,” he added quietly, pitched low enough to be private but firm enough to matter. Then, with a faint, wry smile toward Serqet, “And yes. It is going to be a long evening.”
The offered hand is taken almost immediately, but not as one would expect. Olivia's slender fingers pass the actual grip by and embrace Arielle's wrist instead, the embrace almost delicate as she steps in closer to the woman.
"I- please don't-" she stammers out, features crimson with a blush going all the way down her neck, "Stay?" she adds, almost pleadingly, as she inches just a little closer - near enough that it seems quite intimate her gaze lost in those perfect features across from her.
Archimedes opens the door to the Greenstone Bookstore, stepping in and ensuring his messenger bag clears the threshold before he allows the door to close behind him. He takes a look around, curiosity on his face as he looks from the counter to each of the tall bookshelves that surround the store.
Arielle is surprised by the hand, but then she remembers in the past some humans doing that. "I.. sure?" She has not encountered this before, except from insistent cats. "Could you tell me your name? You want to be my friend?" This is kind of odd to her for a human. But stranger things have happened. The door opening and there is a new person coming inside, and she looks his direction to see who it is, if she has seen them before. nope. "Hi! I'm Arielle!"
Serqet steps away from the two women as they clasp hands or, rather, as one clasps the other's wrist. She smiles alittle warmly as she does, leaving the pair to their momentary affair as she begins to prep some tea for herself. She pours a cup, mixing in a small amount of honey for taste. She looks over her shoulder again to note te situation, and finding that they were still where they were well... She begins to also prepare a cup for Book with the same measurements. A good amount of tea, and the 'right' amount of honey. When she's through, she walks up to the proprietor and holds it out for him to take.
"For you." She says, "I figure they're alittle busy." Her smile still remains as she looks back at the pair again, before those eyes sweep over Archimedes...
"Arch?" She asks, "I'd say 'fancy seeing you here', but that's not that fancy huh? Used book store is 'so' you."
The door opening gave him a necessary shift in focus. He turned smoothly, composure fully restored. "Good evening," he greeted Archimedes with calm hospitality. "Welcome to Greenstone Books. Signing is near the front, refreshments to the right, and browsing is strongly encouraged." His eyes flicked once back toward the others to ensure hands were relaxing rather than tightening. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
Thomas accepted the cup from Serqet with a faint, surprised lift of his brows that softened quickly into appreciation. "Thank you," he said quietly, genuine warmth threading through the words. He took a careful sip, noting the honey without comment but with clear approval. "And for stepping in where needed," he added, tone low enough to remain between them. His eyes flicked briefly toward Olivia and Arielle, ensuring the moment there had steadied rather than escalated. Then he inclined his head slightly toward Serqet. "Hope you're finding something that interests ya here..."
Archimedes stops his looking around to smile towards Arielle and nod his head, "Nice to meet you, Arielle. My name is Archimedes." He looks away for a moment, towards Serqet, "Hello again!" He then laughs, following it with a nod, "You're right, it is on brand for me, isn't it." His eyebrows raise and he asks, "How have you been?" Looking towards the welcome given to him by Book, he nods his head, "Thank you, sir."
The answer is quiet and oh so warm, silken in a way you usually don't hear outside of certain videos online. "Liv." Olivia introduces herself, almost seeming to be about to step sideways as Arielle turns but once again seems to catch herself…
And then, just like that, she squeals and lets go off that hand, stepping away almost as if startled. "Fuck- shit- sorry!" she bursts out, hands coming up to hide half her face, just like that having gone from lost in trance to surprised and almost terrified embarrassment at her own behavior.
"Certainly, all sorts of interesting things on the fiction shelves 'and' elsewhere." Serqet doesn't obfuscate that she's mentioning Arielle. It's not in a lecherous way either. Just a manner of 'can you believe it? I sure can't' sort of fancy. "I've been needing new books, really... My roommate's read through all I own, and I'd like to give us both something new to absorb in our free time. We don't have much of it, but we both like to use the time to read or think." She takes up a place next to Book, socially hovering until his attention, no doubt, is brought elsewhere.
"I've been well! Things have been calm, and I can't express how blessed I am for it. How bout you?" She replies to Archimedes, then Olivia exclaims! She caught the name, of course, but that response to realization draws a concerned stare from Serqet. She glances sidelong at Book, but says nothing. The glance and the action likely say plenty.
Thomas accepts Serqet's sidelong glance without reacting outwardly, though he understood it perfectly. "Calm is underrated," he remarked lightly, lifting the tea in a small gesture of appreciation. "Books help with that. They give the mind somewhere to go that is not... immediate." His attention drifted briefly back to Arielle, then away again with visible effort as host instincts reasserted themselves. "Please," he added to the room at large, tone warm but grounded, "browse, talk, breathe. Have you gotten in line to get a signed copy of Mr. Harrow's book yet?"
He glances toward the signing table where the author is patiently working through a modest but steady line. "The Hollows was ahead of its time," he adds, tone thoughtful but clearly fond. "Small town mystery, bicycles instead of cars, flashlights instead of cell phones. A group of kids who notice something the adults either ignore or refuse to see." A faint smile touches his mouth. "I have always liked that genre. Kids with bikes, as people call it now. There is something honest about it. The stakes feel personal. Friendship matters. Courage is awkward and imperfect."
He gestures lightly toward the stack of hardcovers near Harrow. "It is not just nostalgia. It is the reminder that wonder and fear can exist side by side. That a handful of determined young people can confront something larger than themselves and survive it." His gaze sweeps the room briefly, grounding himself again in the present. "It felt appropriate for a grand opening. A story about a small place with something strange beneath the surface."
Arielle looks bewildered by Olivia. "No no, you are ok. Please, don't be sad. Would it help if I sang you a song? That helps me feel better." It is what she does and all. "Let me get you that tea first." She steps right over to pour a cup for for Olivia, and puts just the perfect amount of honey into it and stirs it enough to mix before handing it to her. "Just like my.." she pauses and remembers before continuing "..husband liked it." She does not ignore Archimedes, but she is focused on Olivia.
Archimedes side-eyes book for a moment and then turns to Serqet to nod, "I'm so happy to hear that. Calm is good. I do my best thinking and healing during the calmest periods of my life. I'm glad you're getting that moment, as well." He then adds, "I'm doing well! I'm very busy between my work at the University and the work at my school in Chinatown."
He turns away from Serqet a moment, his eyebrows raising as he looks between Arielle and Olivia. He then asks, "Hello cousin. It's so good to see you at the opening of this bookshop. How have you been?"
Jessica opens the door and clicks here heels on through. Past the threshold, she tips sun hat back so she start looking around at the bookstore proper to get her bearings.
"I jus-" Olivia starts at first, another compulsive exclamation, then catches it with an audible clearing of her throat. "Sorry." she adds again, quietly, but does manage to lower her hands at least.
"Thank you, uh- what was your name?" she looks a little bewildered still, looking to Book with what seems an expression seeking reassurance, then over to the other side to Serqet, Archimedes, others. She... seems to be catching up on everyone else existing at all, at this point.
"Oh, hey cous-" she adds, a little hesitantly, quiet, as Archimedes speaks up, "I... doing pretty well, just a little, um, embarrassed."
Serqet snickers at Book's initial words, hovering away from him as he turns to address the room at large. She, with her tea, makes her way back toward the shelves. As she moves, she speaks toward Archimedes! "Indeed the calm IS the best time for thought. I find the stress can induce it's own kind of success when it comes to thinking, but it gets exhausting when there's too much of it... The holidays are the worst bloody time for us at the shelter but, mercifully, Valentine's has been calm so far. I can appreciate that." She rounds the corner down the aisle then, staying half protruding a she observes a shelf. Likely, something interesting had stuck out to her. In fact, she picks something up and comments...
"This is... Ophelia Wears Black! This is extremely rare!" She turns toward the others, holding up a black book with simple white text on the front, denoting that very name. The copy is worn, but that gives it charm!
"Her poetry is wonderful... Short, but good. I think I've found the first of my interesting things, mmm? I'll definitely be grabbing this." As Olivia comes to, she smirks and looks in her direction. "Cousin, huh? Related to Arch, are you? Sounds cool!"
Thomas catches the way Olivia looks to him for reassurance and answers it with something steady and simple: a small nod, calm and untroubled. "Arielle," he supplies gently, filling in the missing name without fanfare. "And there is nothing to apologize for. First nights in new spaces can be... overstimulating." His tone is even, deliberately normalizing the moment rather than spotlighting it. He shifts his weight slightly, re-centering himself between conversations like a quiet axis.
The door opening again draws his attention, and he inclines his head toward Jessica as she steps in. "Good evening. Welcome to Greenstone Books," he offers warmly. "Refreshments are by the counter, and Mr. Harrow is signing near the windows." His gaze briefly sweeps the room and he smiles as Serqet seems to have found something that caught her interest. "Glad you found something."
Arielle replies to Olivia, as she starts to get back together again. Still holding out the tea for Olivia. "Arielle. That is my name." She again looks up to seeing Jessica enter. "Hi! I'm Arielle! Welcome!" She's kind of become a welcomer in a way. Hearing all the cousin talk, "Are you all related?"
Jessica is momentarily started by the sudden welcome, turning on her high heels, but she smiles back quickly to Arielle. "Oh, why thank ya kindly."
Archimedes turns to look back towards Arielle, smiling widely and then shaking his head. He replies in his faint accent from the south of England, "No, not really. We have the same last name, so an inside joke amongst ourselves is to call each other cousin." He grins laughs, with faux chiding towards Olivia, "Or cous in the vulgar urgot." He then smiles once again and adds, "Glad to see you're well." He then looks back to Arielle and, if he's effected at all, he's hiding it quite well, "Your name is Arielle again? Nice to meet you." With a gesture towards the shelves, he asks, "Have you found a book that interests you yet?"
Thomas takes in the room one last time, measuring the flow of conversation and the way the evening has settled into itself. Then he clears his throat softly, just enough to draw nearby attention without cutting across anyone mid-sentence. "If you will excuse me for a moment," he says evenly, already stepping back toward the counter. "I need to check on something in the back."
He gestures briefly to a young man near the register. "Devin will take over while I am away. He can handle purchases, questions, and the signing line." With that, Thomas offers a small, apologetic smile to the group, then slips through the side door behind the counter, leaving the hum of the opening in capable hands as he disappears toward the back rooms of the shop.
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