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[formidable]

Private AU/PSL RP. A tale of two brothers from alternate 1879 France, and the witch, her golem, and other colorful characters, who get entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➤ PART I ➢ "La Caravane".

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[infusion]

Well, I guess organization differs depending where a library is located. Some districts have an efficient and easy to use system while other places aren't as up to date and the books are in poor condition.

[It's nice, being able to chat with him about mundane things such as this.

There's a small, "Whoops; thank you!" as Claude guides her away from the canal, before she remarks on the last part.]

An alert, huh? That sounds like having an overdue book is more dire around these parts.

[pragnanz]

Mm, you could say that. In this city, we value the importance of credibility. Trust and responsibility is worth its weight in gold.

[ Even for something as mundane as loaning books, the people of this city judge someone's capacity to follow through on due dates and written rules. That's the sentiment that's implicit here, as Claude strides down the main road towards a thin building that resembles a spire more than a library. ]

And, besides— intelligence and wisdom is power.

[infusion]

Probably hard to get trust when you're fighting over territories, I'd imagine.

[Trust must be a precious thing in this world of theirs, indeed; Iona idly wonders if that's why Claude seems stand offish whenever she freely gives him and Gus all of her friendliness and her plentiful good will. He wasn't used to the lack of conditions that came with her nature.

But that thought is quickly pushed in the back of her mind; she perks up when she sees the spire and points at it excitedly with that childlike energy of hers.]

There, right? I think I'm in love with it already! Let's go inside already!

[And before Claude can say another word, she's jogging towards it, trying to look for the entrance. God, she needs to slow down.]

[pragnanz]

[ He's about to affirm Iona's first sentiment when she sees fit to speed off, trotting at a pace that somehow still surprises Claude. It's not as if he hasn't seen women running around with their skirts hiked up, but still. For a second he almost forgets that Iona is invisible to everyone else and calls after her, but dials it back as a passerby looks at him with vague suspicion: What the heck is up with this guy???

Clearing his throat, Claude takes measured steps to the library. The entrance is a cozy wooden door, worn with age but sturdy, and it swings outwards to reveal the vertical tower of shelves and books, interspersed with planetary models and paintings donated by locals. Spiral stairs intersperse the area, and alcoves just out from the walls like balconies for visitors to nap and read in. ]

Do try not to break anything. [ He warns, as he steps inside. ]

[infusion]

[Thank god for jeans because it's helping Iona maneuver her way past people as she makes her way inside with Claude. Stepping inside, her eyes gaze in awe at the lovely interior and she makes a circle in order to give herself a 360 degree view of the area.

At Claude's warning, she rolls her eyes and lowers her voice into a quiet, but witty reply of a whisper.]

The only thing I'm gonna break open are the books, Claude.

[A beat. Then she covers her mouth with one hand, whispering even lower to Claude so that her voice doesn't reverberate.

Maybe in a corner where no one will notice a floating book, right?

Got any story on phantoms?

[pragnanz]

[ Note to self: take lessons in ventriloquism and master the art of talking without moving one's lips. Claude conveniently steps to a nearby shelf and angles his chin down, casting his face in shadow so he can speak under his breath without anyone looking too suspicious. ]

I'll look for the books, and you find an alcove to sit in.

I'll cover you.

[ lewd... ]

[infusion]

[Are you trying to tell her to sit still Claude, really?? Although she is one to protest and it shows on her face with the way she purses her lips and crosses her arms, and taps her foot... But surprisingly, she lets it go without a fight.]

Okay, okay. I'll try not to make too much noise.

[wow incredibly lewd]

[pragnanz]

Next time, you can pose as my date.

[ THIS IS A JOKE... TRULY.......... BELIEVE HIM. He says it as snidely as he can manage, which isn't as snidely as he would have, even a few days ago. What a disaster.

He breathes though his teeth, and moves to put his jacket on one of the nearest cozy corners so someone doesn't mistakenly move to sit on Iona on her perch. Not on his watch, Satan. ] Be good, now.

1/2

[infusion]

[Again, date?? Twice in a day?? Iona just stares at him...]

[infusion]

[And she looks away trying not to look affected. She sinks into the spot Claude saved for her, running her hand through her hair, suspiciously looking pleased? Or at least mildly so.]

Don't take too long, or I'll start whistling!

[pragnanz]

[ Do you ever play yourself: the life. Claude does his level best to look away from Iona after he sees the edges of contentment seep into her expression, letting his hands busy themselves with adjusting his collar and tie.

I'll be back in a minute, he says, before quickly disappearing into the throng of books and archaic equipment, into the archives where he fishes for records of orphanages and births happening around the operahouse within the past 30 years or so. Those are the dry books he'll skim through, the ones that don't exactly spur imagination— the records he brings back for Iona are the ones with more of a story to them, old newspapers and handwritten stories of a boy with a sad voice who lives in the sewers.

When he comes back, Claude sits down so that he covers Iona from any passersby, leaving her free to pick up the books without worry. ]

Oh good, you're still here.

[infusion]

[When he comes back, he'll find her with her phone in her hands (it's weird, there's technically no signal, but she had received a text from Solomon before she had left her room).]

I'm not gonna ditch you, not when this is our first time out together by ourselves.

[She glances at the newspapers as she sets the phone in her lap.]

Well, that's more than enough to work with. Eerie too really...

[Iona takes one of the papers skimming through it before going back to the beginning to read the lines carefully. As she does so, without redirecting her gaze at Claude, she asks rather casually.]

Are you familiar with anyone called Raoul by any chance? He's got a fancy title... Like a viscount...?