specifiercity: (Default)
Arthur ([personal profile] specifiercity) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2015-07-25 02:35 pm

[open] bars & bookstores

Arthur has visited a number of used book stores in the past year. Sometimes he wanders into them when he has a few minutes to spare on his way to and from the train, and on occasion he makes a point to visit one and sift through their collections to find something interesting. He'll read just about anything, but his old client taught him what to look for in everything from old fairytales to modern journals, how to see the clues left behind by the supernatural world that no one would pick up on if they didn't already know. Arthur is accumulating a small bookshelf's worth of books with high-lighted passages, with everything from children's nursery rhymes to new journalism from the 60's and 70's.

That's where he is now, standing outside of a small storefront on a sunny day, looking down at a bin of cheap books for something that he might be able to analyze just for fun. It'd be a shame if someone were to interrupt him.

Arthur's not a guy who hangs out at a bar alone for an hour by choice. Maybe this is obvious by his slouched posture and frown as he stares down at the remainder of his second beer, some shitty draught that seemed a safe choice when he arrived. Having politely rebuffed all of the bartender's attempts at conversation, he must look stood up - and he has been, only not for a date. He was supposed to meet a witch here, someone who could offer a bit of a different insight into what's been going on with Circle Midnight, but she never showed.

He knows he can't expect everyone to be perfectly punctual, but Arthur's in the process of giving up hope that she'll ever walk in. He checks his phone to confirm that it has indeed been fifty eight minutes since he sat down, and then he sighs as he puts it back in his pocket. Guess it's time to polish off this crappy beer that he paid too much for and then head out - that is, unless someone else happens to distract him.

[Please hit me up if you'd like a different situation!]
rules_winter: (foggy)


[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-26 05:19 am (UTC)(link)
Mab exits the shop, a bag folded carefully down to cover her prize, a third edition of folktales from the Black Forest. She pauses, feeling satisfied and letting her eyes roam the street for a moment before glancing aside at the young man next to the bin. He seems to be completely focused on the books and she can closes her eyes for a moment, reaching down next to him to pull a buried book out that flutters with a little magic, long pale fingers flipping it over to read the title. Ah yes. Y Tylwyth Teg by Hugh Evans Gan. It is definitely in Welsh, but that wouldn't stop someone devoted to their studies and it's also illustrated. She held the book out to him. "Perhaps something to challenge you." Her voice was clear, authoritative with a touch of something like amusement. "Or perhaps I misjudged."
rules_winter: (over the shoulder)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-26 07:16 pm (UTC)(link)
It takes him a moment to focus but he gets there eventually. Her hand falls back to her side and she dips her head a little acknowledging the thanks. "The Welsh are excellent with music as well as folktales." She replied. "I believe there are two professors at Oxford who might assist if you find yourself having difficulties. One is Welsh herself and the other has studied it extensively."

Her eyes drop back to the book and her lips curl up a little. "I have a signed copy in my own collection already." Her copy is in significantly better shape.