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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jan 10, 2008 22:52:19 GMT -5
Zahra's hand froze, poised over the book she had been about to pick up, as the piece of human filth spoke. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, after a moment of silence. She moved her hand onto the book, and picked it up. When she turned around to face the customer, her eyebrow was raised.
"I'm very...pleased that you decided to tell me that," she said, with a frown. She wasn't quite sure what was happening; was the human referring to a thought he had just thought, or was he simply...using that ancient practice of flirtation which worked on her so poorly?
There were so few men who were truly worth her time that they almost all failed. Of course, humans in general were despicable creatures, but to mate with one of them...Well, she was just getting ahead of herself now, wasn't she?
"However, I am entirely clueless as to what you are speaking of," she said, resisting the urge to add on a 'human filth' to the end of it. Whatever he was getting at...well, she would have none of it. She pulled the book from its resting place on the shelf, and as she handed it to him, she narrowed her eyes, and opened her mind again, with her eyes focused on his to assess his reaction.
Well, she would just have to see what he would say about that.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Jan 12, 2008 15:42:53 GMT -5
Deny it all you like, but it's not that gentleman over that who's picking through my mind like a woman shelling peas. "I'm terribly sorry, but I must have been mistaken," he said jovially. He didn't have to feel her confusion or repulsion or embarrassment or anger; it was glorious. This, he supposed, was what it was like to be normal. He quite liked it, actually. "I'm quite pleased to share. In the spirit of full disclosure, I don't really want to spend all day chatting with you."
He glanced at the book shelves beside which they were standing. "Now, about that book. Where did you say that fellow hid i? I'd like to buy it before we grow beards. I really have to try to get it to a friend today, and he's not one to linger at the office when he's had a bad day." And I don't think he'd appreciate me dropping by his home. "Besides, I think your boyfriend might be getting a bit anxious. All this talk of panties, you know. Even if you two aren't together, I'm not much in the mood to get slapped." It was a damn good mood he was in (he'd found a fellow sufferer who could control her powers) and a damn deep hole he was digging for himself. Even if he didn't believe that nonsense about hiding the book, he would like to buy it that day and without being punched by the tall fellow on the other side of the shelf. The last thing he needed was a black eye or two; he didn't feel like being a fucking panda.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jan 18, 2008 22:04:29 GMT -5
Zahra raised an eyebrow, and picked a book up off of the shelf. This mortal certainly was a strange sort of fish. "This," she said, extending the book to him, without moving her eyes from him, "Is the book you are looking for, no?"
As for the insinuations against her regardering the situation between her and the canine, she responded with a smirk. "I'm sure you'll simply refute the matter, but he is not involved with me. Dogs and cats neither get together in the sense of romantic intents, nor with a sense of friendship, unless both are mentally impaired."
She shook her head, wondering if the dog was sneaking up on her. She took a peek towards his mind waves, and closed her mind right away so as to not attract any more apparent notice from this oddball of a customer.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Jan 18, 2008 22:38:41 GMT -5
Caden took the book from her, and momentarily absorbed, checked the covers and spine for any damage. No, all was good on that front (well, front and back, rather). He flipped through a few of the pages. He glanced up at her for a moment and then, stifling his embarrassment, bent his head slightly and smelled the pages. Yes, all good in that department, too. He didn't want a book anyone had returned that smelled like fish and cigarettes and their mother. This one had that good, fresh smell of ink on new paper and binding glue. Now, do I have to taunt you anymore, or will you hurry me through the store already?
"I'll take it. Will you ring it up for me?" he said. "Oh, no, miss, I don't plan on refuting anything. I know when to keep my mouth shut." He winked at her. You aren't mentally impaired, but you probably think I am. I probably deserve that. He caught a strain of annoyance and worry, but it was gone a moment later, so he might have simply imagined it. It was unnerving not to have any sense of what she was feeling. She could be utterly furious with him, or she could be worrying about something entirely unrelated to him, or she could be lusting after the customer a few shelves over. Was this what it was like to be normal?
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jan 18, 2008 22:52:21 GMT -5
Zahra surveyed him for a moment, watching his face with a wry amusement. "Mmhmm," was all that she managed, before rolling her eyes, and brushing past him. "This way, which you undoutebly knew."
It was a rather short trip to the till, where she quickly tapped a few buttons on the machine (in order to appear professional), and then waited kindly for him to hand her the book. And since he appeared to be taking his own sweet time, and occasionally blinking in a rather odd manner, she decided to take a dive into his brain.
Last time, she had passed some interesting images that she had ignored, since she had only been looking for the book's cover. But there had been something in there about a man dressed in black, and some sort of possibly homosexual contact between the two.
She was always interested in things like that. After all, it was a very strange quirk of humanity. Why would you attempt to reproduce if you were doing it with a person of your own gender? It made absolutely no sense to her, and to meet someone with experience in the matter...at least, what she assumed was experience.
So, she opened her mind, and pointedly aimed it at his, making sure that she had a book open (and right-side-up) in her hands, so as to not appear creepish and stalkerly by staring at the person whose mind she was reading.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Jan 18, 2008 23:23:43 GMT -5
Caden followed her slowly, glancing at the shelves. He should have been hurrying, but he quite liked bookstores, and he wanted to see if this one would be worth coming back to. It'd be nice not to have to buy books in L.A. He came up to the register and passed her the book.
He could feel the minty-fresh! feeling like his mind had been flushed with a toilet cleaner. God, that's fucking disgusting. He shook himself slightly as if that would clear his head. "Excuse me, miss, but if you don't mind, could you stay out of my mind? Mind-reading is sort of like gutting a fish; it's not something you do in polite company." He didn't feel much coming off her, but he was certain she had her guards down. It must have been something a bit beyond him. He could feel something skirting around his mind, just out of range, like a figure in his mind's peripheral vision.
Part of him wanted very much to ask her if all mind readers felt like they'd stuck an Altoid in your brain or if she was just special that way. It was unnerving to know she was poking about in there and— Fuck. She knows what I'm thinking right now, doesn't she? His eyes shot up from the spot on the countertop he'd been staring at, and he looked at her in horror. How much did she hear— Caden tried desperately to make his mind go completely blank, but he kept running over the past few minutes' thoughts. Basil, kissing, books, Basil, house plants, his car, Basil, where he would go next, kissing Basil, books, bookstores, getting Basil a basil plant but, no, that was silly, The Maltese Falcon, toilet bowl cleaner, mind reading, altoids, not thinking, not thinking, not thinking.
Not thinking was hard than he'd thought. No! Oh, dammit.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jan 18, 2008 23:54:58 GMT -5
At the mention of staying out of his mind, Zahra blinked in surprise, and looked up at him with even more surprise as her mind was somewhat overwhelmed with an influx of images trying to crowd out the image she was trying to get at. Of course, some of the images were the ones she was peeking at.
She raised an eyebrow, and then smirked. "What, you can feel it?" she asked, holding a hand out for the book, and narrowing her eyes. "Altoids? Whatever is that? It's some sort of american food thing, isn't it?"
She sniffed, and looked away from him. "At least watch your language, filth," she muttered, wondering just how he could feel her. An almost overwhelming sense of curiosity washed over her, and she glanced up at him. "Just how do you know that I'm reading your mind?" she asked, and then chuckled a bit. "No, no, a better question. "Just why, why are you thinking about that man who you kissed? You said the name Basil a few times, and I'm not terribly caught up with the customs of this town, but isn't that the snottish detective who thinks he owns everyone's soul?
"I did not get the impression of not straight-ness from his mind. I mean, he does have a cat."
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Jan 19, 2008 0:13:58 GMT -5
"Of course, I can feel it. I'm not deaf and blind and mute like most of the poor saps whose brains you go digging into. Altoids are breath mints. Your mind feels all minty and clean when it bumps up against mine and it's sort of like sucking on one of those." Realizing that his righteous annoyance was fading away, he snapped, "It's weird, and I don't appreciate it, you know."
"Hey, I shouldn't have to watch my language in my own head! It's not my fault you're mucking about in it," he said. Filth? For the love of God, what did I ever do to you? I'm sorry that I'm not a schoolboy with perfect manners when I think no one's listening. He decided to ignore her question about how he knew she was reading his mind because he didn't want her to know really. He carefully skirted around stating the obvious in his head, hoping that this, at least, was one secret he would be allowed to keep.
"Why shouldn't I be thinking about the man I kissed? I mean, he must be important to me if I— did what I did." Caden stiffened at her description of Basil. He might not always like the man, and there might be days when he wanted to break his nose, but he had given Caden a steady job and infinite amounts of kindness and patience. And, yes, he did properly own Caden's soul. "Yeah, I guess you might say he was the snottish detective if you didn't know him properly. He's an absolute genius, and if that means he doesn't want to spend time with idiots, then so be it." I sound like I'm in love with him. Caden flushed scarlet at the thought. Please don't be listening right now. Oh, please.
"And I give you the impression of not straight-ness from my mind, do I?"
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jan 19, 2008 0:26:47 GMT -5
Zahra laughed, her face brightening with the noise. "So it's Caden, then," she said, and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine. I'll close off the mind link, human. But you know, your life is so short and fleeting that you should be grateful for getting to experience something like that. It isn't often that a mortal being like you would get to taste an altoid in his brain, if an altoid is indeed as pleasant as you make it sound. If it isn't, then, well, I'm not at all sorry, actually."
She shook her head, a sort of grin still on her face. "Come on, detective. You were thinking about kissing another man. That, to me, does not sound like something a man who is straight would dwell on. Now, if you would kindly hand me that book, I will ring it up so that you can give it to him."
Her expression was completely serious now, as she was only dwelling on the thoughts inside of her own head, and they were actually tremendously dull. They were almost boring her to sleep, as it were, but she managed to stay awake.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Jan 19, 2008 0:44:11 GMT -5
"Yeah, it's Caden," he said. He had been rather hoping that she wouldn't find out what his name was, so he couldn't actually be reminded of this mess. If she started rumors about him wanting to bum his boss, he was going to take desperate measures, possibly involving tequila and a frying pan. "Oh, trust me, I experience other people's minds all the time. It is neither pleasant nor minty. Privacy is a pleasure I quite enjoy, though, thanks."
He shoved the book at her. "That was a revenge kiss, I'll have you know. I was getting back at my tarty coworker who clearly only took the job because she wanted to stick her tongue down Basil's throat. The book is an apology, not a token of my affections, thank you very much, so you can stop looking so goddamned smug about it. I am not in love with Basil Dixon. That's perfectly ridiculous, and I am merely dwelling on that moment because I'm afraid he'll take it the way you did."
Caden was entirely on the defensive now, and he realized that it was best to shut up before he said something totally ridiculous. Personal revelations were supposed to be internal, not orchestrated by mind-reading bookshop clerks. I do not love Basil. That would be pathetic and slightly disgusting and very, very wrong because he is my boss and about a small eternity older than me and he also probably thinks I have the intelligence of a fish, honestly, and I think he may fancy corpses or possibly Doctor Bates. Caden wondered if "shut up, brain, shut up" was about to become is mantra. At least, no one was listening now.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jan 19, 2008 1:34:26 GMT -5
Zahra raised an eyebrow as she ran the book through. The register required a few buttons being tapped, before she was able to read the price out. Jeun liked things to be done a certain way, and since she was not in the mood to deal with a frighteningly large lion, she decided to follow the customs of the store for once.
"Mmhmm. That would be denial for you," she muttered, finally pressing the right button. "Aha! Apparently, since it is in a strangely unused condition for a used novel, it happens to be 21.95 American Money pieces." She turned her face upwards, and then gave him a wry smile. "I think that the basil plant was a good idea, although maybe not that sort, because they emit a strange and slightly unpleasant smell."
She paused for a moment, before reaching a finger behind her ear to give it a bit of a scratch. Her eyes closed in a sort of ecstasy before she caught herself, and stopped. "You will notice that I did not ask if you wanted to purchase any more items. "That is because I do not care. But this seems as if it is of a grave importance, human, and I decided to indulge your wishes. I will most likely never do that again, so feel lucky or something of the sort.
"Oh," she said, almost as an afterthought, as she leaned back in the chair, ready to take a nap, and wondering whether she should find a small patch of sunlight to curl up in, "and good luck with your boss. I certainly wouldn't want you to lose your career, Altoid."
She needed something to call him anyways, and Caden was far too personal. Also, she had been too lazy to look up a last name.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Jan 19, 2008 23:29:38 GMT -5
Watching her punching the buttons of the register, Caden leaned over the counter. "Excuse me? I am not in denial." He whipped out his wallet and flicked through it. "Cash all right?" American money pieces? What planet is she from? He pulled out a twenty and a five and offered them to her. "It is quite good condition. Not actually a bad price, but I suppose you know that. I'm not sure they even make this in hardcover any more." He stopped blathering because, really, she couldn't possibly be interested.
"You know, some people quite like the smell of basil plants. They're herbs, not skunks. I wouldn't give him a kitchen plant, though. Kitchen plants don't make good gifts, and I wouldn't give anything I wouldn't grow myself, anyway," he said. "I was thinking something lush, a succulent. There's something very lively about succulents." He paused. She probably has no idea what that is. "The ones with thick leaves, you know."
"I don't want to purchase any more items. If you have any Austen in stock, though, I have a friend who might like that. I'll come back and pick one up sometime." He shot her a smile. "We should do this again, you know. I love having my brain strained, and I'm tremendously glad to have obtained a single favor from you, White Witch." You are like Jadis, aren't you? You're a blast of cold air.
"Thank you very much for your time, effort and advice. The next time I need some solidly unhelpful advice, I'll call you." He stuck out a hand because their interaction somehow seemed to merit a formal goodbye, even if they were ostensibly shopkeeper and customer.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jan 20, 2008 0:58:32 GMT -5
Zahra glanced at his hand for a moment, slightly annoyed that she had to sit back up. But she realized that perhaps, her sitting up was cause for her standing up and finding a patch of sunlight. She decided to grace him with a shake of her hand, and henceforth stood, and took his hand in her own. "You do that," she said bemusedly, in response to his comment about unhelpful advice (she was particularily good at that).
"And if I ever need a detective... Well, that won't happen."
She shook her head, as if the idea was completely absurd. Her, needing a detective. It was a laughable concept. The idea, however, about her being compared to the White Witch from the Chronicles of Narnia, seemed somewhat plausible. "And I do not know if we have Austen in stock. They're terribly popular though, so I would suspect we might."
She shrugged, and dropped his hand. And as if that was the end of that, she turned her face to the side, and slightly upwards, indicating that she was finished speaking to him.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Jan 22, 2008 0:37:10 GMT -5
"Oh, you never know if you'll need a detective," he said. "I'd give you my card, but I'm afraid I haven't got one. You know where to find me!" He scooped up the book from the countertop, and suppressing the urge to ask her if she would teach him the trick of blocking out other people's minds, turned to go. "I'll stop in for that Austen sometime," he added. With that, he headed out of the bookshop, book under his arm.
As he went out, he turned and shouted at her, "Good luck with that dog of a boyfriend, you sly old fox!"
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