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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Feb 15, 2008 14:54:03 GMT -5
Imogene rang her hands together as she stood outside the shop, looking up at the painted white letters of the name and pacing back and forth a few times. She ran her fingers through her hair and went through a whole series of nervous actions (including walking to the end of the block and back, and turning a fire hydrant a whole rainbow of colors) before pushing the door to the shop open. The warm heavy air of the sun light shop greeted her as she walked in, rubber her arms despite the temperature in the shop and looking around at the familiar oddly placed book shelves and the desk and the overcrowded displays. She came here often, both for books and whenever her client's gave her the money to come buy information from Mr. Kazin. However, even if she was here often the man still terrified her. It was something about how he was almost a little shorter then she was and yet she knew very well that he could, and would, do a number of horrible things to her if ever she got on his bad side. And the fact that he played off the terror he knew was there without acting like he knew it. Plus his employee who she was almost certain must be some sort of physic. Plus the fact that he acted so... normal. Mr. Kazin was completely terrifying to her. She avoided actually looking at the counter for a good ten minutes, meandering about the shop and looking at the unorganized bookshelves. She even grabbed down a few books- nearly pulling down an entire row as she did so and barely catching them. When she finally did look back at the desk a mixture of relief and disappointment washed over her- Mr. Kazin wasn't there. While part of her was very glad that the terrifying little man was gone, another part of her was very peeved. She'd called only a half hour ago to make sure he was there, why would he go out? Most likely, because he liked jerking people around.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Feb 15, 2008 15:19:05 GMT -5
Zahra idly flipped the page of the book she was currently perusing, her eyes sharp on the page. Whilst reading, she reached a finger up to scratch behind her ear, something which elicited a small sigh of pleasure. Eventually, she had to put the book down in order to continue scratching, and finally, she stopped.
She was just waiting for the witch outside to come into the shop. It was interesting, the mind of this one, so full for a human's. Full of incantations and circle-drawing practices, and images of mice and fire hydrants and boys with long, flowing blonde hair - Wait. That was Menthol!
The fact that this girl knew Menthol cheered Zahra up immensely, and she slipped a bookmark into the book, before folding her hands on her lap, and waiting for the girl to come.
She eventually came in, broadcasting images and thoughts all over the place. Since she wasn't human, her mind was much more complex and interesting than the laiety, and a smile quirked the edge of Zahra's lip before she flattened it into submission. Now expressionless, her eyes tracing the path of the girl, Zahra waited.
The moment that she looked around, Zahra fixed her eyes on the other's, catching the hint of fright. She was scared of Jeun? The big, fluffy kitty? Wahaha.
This girl was, indeed, going to be fun. And instead of talking, Zahra chose to simply stare. That should frighten her a bit. Or just disconcert her?
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Feb 15, 2008 15:42:49 GMT -5
After a few more moments of debating she sighed and took a deep breath. Alright, so Mr. Kazin was gone. As relieving at that was, it also sucked. She did have to get back to her office at some point today and check in and make sure that she hadn't missed any appointments. She was pretty sure she'd cleared up her schedule for today- but Mr. Fisher liked to drop in unannounced and say he had an appointment for her to find various things for him. Such as his lost keys, or his cat's mouse toy.
So she resolved that she'd have to speak with the employee and at least ask when he was expected to be back- so she could either wait or come back another time.
She walked over to Zahra, almost as unnerved by the lovely egyptian woman as her boss. However, she smothered that little voice that was telling her to just come back later and smiled pleasantly at her, "Hello, you wouldn't happen to know when Mr. Kazin will be in, would you?" she asked politely, still holding the books that she'd picked out- one a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories and the other a book of cake recopies.
If she wasn't going to get any information from this visit, she could at least go away knowing that she'd gotten herself some new reading material.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Feb 15, 2008 16:13:56 GMT -5
Zahra smiled, rather politely, and then she shook her head. "I don't run Jeun's life," she said. "He's always walking out of here. Unpredictable as a cat, that one," she sighed dramatically, and then raised an eyebrow.
"So, you're going to buy those, or are you just trying to look as if you came in here with a purpose other than to see 'Mr. Kazin'?"
Zahra shook her head. "He could be back at any moment, or he could be back in ages. I could tie him up as soon as he gets in so that you can see him, although I don't think he would really appreciate that. It would take away from his precious dignity, as he would say."
Ah, Jeun's dignity. What little there was left of it after having worked with a crazy cat, she could easily destroy.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Feb 15, 2008 16:36:34 GMT -5
Imogene sighed and nodded, "Yeah, I'll just be getting these then," she said, running her fingers through her hair, and putting them on the counter, "I'll try coming back later--"
Before she could finish though, as if to speak of the devil the sphinx came in just at that very moment. Imogene, however, knew immediately that there was something very wrong.
For one, he was wearing a t-shirt.
Albeit, it was still black. He hadn't started to wear color, the world would have to be ending for that to happen. However, Jeun wearing a t-shirt was something that produced about the same effect as seeing him wearing a dress would.
Also, he was whistling. Cheerfully. It sounded like an improvised rendition of a children's show theme song. Add to this that he had a ridiculously cheerful smile on his face and that he was practically skipping it all added up to there being something really, really wrong.
Imogene looked at the shop owner with a sort of confused horror. She didn't know him well, granted, but she knew enough to be very disturbed by this.
"Good morning Zahra," Jeun said cheerfully, smiling brightly at his employee and vaulting himself over the counter, "And Ms. Braith, always a pleasure to see you. I'll be with you in just two shakes, I need to make myself some tea. I'll make some for you ladies as well."
With that he left the two woman, going into the back room.
"Does... that happen often?" Imogene asked after a moment of shocked silence.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Feb 15, 2008 17:06:52 GMT -5
Zahra watched Jeun come and go with a mingled curiosity, interest, and amusement. She was smiling bemusedly when he left, actually, and was only slightly surprised to note that the girl (Imogene, her brain said) was still standing there.
"What? That?" she asked, pointing towards the now-disappeared figure of Jeun. "Oh no, that never happens. I'll just ring those up, then," she said, picking the books up off of the counter. Her voice seemed as if nothing was amiss, and she had already closed her mind link: Jeun's was a field of frolicking daisies, and she had no desire to see that.
"Nope, he's usually as depressed and gloomy as a piece of lettuce that's been left out on the counter for too long. All soggy and flimsy and eugh." The imagery evoked made Zahra frown off into the distance for a minute, before she shook her head. "No, he's more like a piece of apple that's gone sour and brown on the counter, even though you've sprinkled it with lemon juice. That's more like it."
She rang the books through, and put them in a bag before handing them to Imogene. "You seem really frightened, dearie," she said, rather sympathetically. "I'd come back later, unless what you've got to say is really important. You know, so I can tame the awful happiness that's come over Jeun. Poor dear."
With a shake of her head, Zahra paused a moment. "Actually, stay. I don't want to be alone with him all.......nice. Eugh."
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Feb 15, 2008 17:31:00 GMT -5
Imogene shook her head and payed for the books, using exact change. She sighed, "I don't know, it seems like there is something physically wrong with him," she said, biting her bottom lip and crossing one arm over her waist, "I was under the impression that he couldn't be that cheerful..."
"Zahra," Juen whined, calling to his employee from the back room and sounding a good deal like a kicked puppy, "Zahra I need your help. I can't carry the tea..."
Imogene raised an eyebrow, then started as there was a yell and a loud crashing sound from the back room and Jeun yelling, "NO. YOU'RE DEAD." And continuing to talk to someone very loudly: "No, no I saw you die. You vanished, right out of my arms. Gone off to the here after.... NO. You're very certainly, indubitably, unarguably dead! No I've not gone crazy! You're the crazy one! All coming back from the dead and whatnot and-- Well no.. I did everything I could! Don't you dare blame this on me!"
Jeun, while this rant was going on was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, occasionally shooting a glare at some invisible person who was standing to his left.
Imogene gave Zahra a questioning look, "I think that confirms that there is something physically wrong," she said.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Feb 15, 2008 18:06:22 GMT -5
Zahra raised an eyebrow. "Jeun," she called, opening up her mind. "Jeun, there isn't anybody there. I'd feel it. There's nobody in the store."
She glanced back at Imogene, before clearing her throat. "Well. I think that if there's something this severely wrong with him, that you had better go. I may not know him very well, but if all else fails, I, at least, can resort to purring."
She smiled, before standing. "Alright, you lazy lion, I'll go and get the tea for you. Can't carry it because it's too heavy. Wimp. "Lifted a door once, I did. I can carry three cups of tea, unless the cups are made of gold or something. That'd be a neat trick," she muttered, going off towards the back room, her hands at her sides.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Feb 15, 2008 18:21:43 GMT -5
Imogene nodded, "Good luck," she said, and took a few steps away from the counter. She didn't much fancy meeting the terrifying store owner when he was loosing his mind. She figured that she could talk with her aunt at some point soon, hopefully tonight. Her aunt would know how to handle this situation of hers.
Jeun was still sitting on the floor, "Zarah," he said very slowly, "Zarah I can't touch it. I can't touch anything. And why is Mesi here, she's dead." He got to his feet and glared at his hallucination, then began smiling again, "See, I told you," he said to the hallucination, "You're not there. You're dead!"
He sounded absolutely thrilled that Mesi, whomever that was, was indeed dead. He resumed his cheerful disposition and skipped over to Zahra, waiting for her to take the tea, "Did Ms. Braith leave? She called earlier, wanted to buy some information," he said.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Feb 18, 2008 21:46:16 GMT -5
Zahra raised an eyebrow. "Jeun, you are in need of medical attention," she said, deciding that her nails were in need of attention. She idly reached out and took her tea, before putting it onto the desk in front of her. She paid close attention to her nails for several minutes before realizing that Jeun was still standing in front of her.
"Oh. Ms. Braith? By that, I'll assume you mean Imogene," she said, taking a sip of her tea before returning her attention to her nails. "Yes, she was in here. That was while you were being crazy though. Daffodils and ponies and sunshine, and the occasional daisy. I remember it well. You must've been concentrating really hard on that meadow to discourage me from prying further into your addled mind. Luckily, I wasn't interested enough to," she said with a sigh, and then abandoned her nails. They would just have to wait for later.
She reached for her tea as she looked up at Jeun's face, her eyes very catlike, full of curiosity and indifference all at the same oxymoronic time. "So. Mesi is what, your old girlfriend? Lover? Sister? Plaything?"
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Feb 22, 2008 23:23:31 GMT -5
Jeun gave her a blank look, then smiled brightly and reached for his cup of tea. However his hand passed right through the cup, he whined a little as he tried a few more times to grab the tea and eventually gave up and bounced on his heals, "Zahra!" he said suddenly, trying to grab his employee -failing though, as his hands passed right through her. He instead settled for making a grand, spastic motion with his hands, "Zahra! You know what would be just superkalafragilistic expealidocious? Really, truly, amazing? Seriously and undoubtedly awesome and bascialy super?"
He seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say for a moment, as he stared at his employee wide eyed and surprised, searching for whatever thought had just left his head. He then smiled brightly as he recovered what thought had fled, or what he thought was the thought that had fled, "We should tango."
He frowned abruptly and shook his head, "No, no we should not tango. You know why we shouldn't tango? Because I don't know how to tango. It is a silly dance that involves too much touching and hand sliding. Or is that the other latino dance? The Samba? No, no the Samba is from Brazil. That's for parties and bar mitzvahs. It's the Rumba. That's it, that is the dance we shouldn't do, because it's stupid and is just sex. Sex on the dance floor. We should waltz, actually. Because I do know how to waltz. Not very well, mind you. But I can waltz much better then I can tango and I can tango better then I can... Well... I can tango much better then I can preform Macbeth. Because acting, contrary to popular belief, is much harder then lying. But lying is actually really easy. I don't get why people say they can't lay... lie.... layie. "Oh! Now I remember. We shouldn't dance, not the waltz or the samba or the rumba or the... thing... with the grapevines. We shouldn't do any of that! We, or you -rather, should hit me. As hard as you can. And keep hitting me until I'm corpreal again and in my right mind because I can tell you, I am not in my right mind right now. One may even go so far as to say that I am in my left mind. Except I'm not, because if I was in my left mind then I would have much more logic. So I am, really, in my right mind. I AM NOT however, in my right mind. So that is the plan, gingerbread man... woman... cat..."
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 3, 2008 21:47:51 GMT -5
Zahra leaned back, and thought for a moment, before standing up. "So, my gingerbread lion," she said, noticing that he had not been able to pick up the cup. "Let's dance. I've got an excellent little tango number in my head. And I happen to know how to..." she said, squinting her eyes up, in intense concentration, before pointing at the radio.
It flickered to life, and switched stations. The one little trick she could do, turning on radios, and she tilted her head to the side, and closed one eye as her nose wrinkled. There was a buzzing static, and then a man's voice cleared its throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," it started, as Zahra nodded in satisfaction. She moved over to the door, and flicked the lock.
"Well Jeun," she said, as the radio announcer paused a moment. "Ladies and Gentlemen, you are listening to one hundred point two, and this is the Tango Milonga."
"Or if you don't want to tango," she said, lifting her wrist in the air and letting her hand dangle limply, so that he could take it like the gentleman she was sure was hidden deep in the soles of his feet. "We could waltz. Or salsa, or swing, or boogie, or charleston...Take your pick, lion boy. I would slap you, but dancing sounds more interesting. Pick a dance."
She nodded sagely, but didn't move. He could take her hand first, thank you very much.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 4, 2008 12:15:28 GMT -5
Jeun tilted his head to one side a bit, like a confused dog. Something that was very out of character for him, however, he wasn't exactly functioning normally right now, so as he was now it might have been very in character for him. He looked complacent for a bit, looking a little above Zahra's head as he thought about something, not necessarily the question posed, but it was very clear that the gears were grinding in his head. He seemed to decide on something and calmly kicked a bookshelf, his foot actually connecting with it and sending it flying across the room and pushing several other book shelves out of the way as well and clearing a large section of the floor.
"Alright Zahra," he said, walking over quickly and taking her hand, though one would notice that grabbing his hand was a lot like grabbing loose sand, "Lets tango."
Whatever he'd been rambling about before about not dancing the tango was apparently very untrue. Certainly he wasn't an expert, since he'd never spent that much time in Argentina. But when you've been alive for more then a thousand years at some point it's inevitable that you learn how to tango. He was, admittedly, much better at the waltz. But the waltz was much more stiff and there was little excitement in the waltz and his currently addled brain had made the decision that he was much more interested in the tango.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 5, 2008 1:06:32 GMT -5
Zahra smiled, and glanced over at the radio. She was poised, waiting as the announcer sifted through the music he had. He was obviously not used to playing tango music on the whims of impatient telepaths who have nothing better to do than amplify their powers with the power of the radio waves.
He cleared his throat, finally, as a song crackled, and began to play. "Ladies and Gentlemen," it announced, "sorry for the delay. We present to you the Tango Milonga."
Zahra grinned then, holding his hand firmly, so he couldn't escape like a whispy little ghost. "You're leading, Lion," she said, waiting expectantly for him to move. Ever the lady, Zahra was actually capable of standing still for quite a long time.
"And what's wrong with you anyways? You're all see-through and freaking out. This is not like you. And yet...you still have up your strong mental barrier."
She shook her head, eyes never leaving his face. "So spill the beans, then. Unless you'd really rather me punching you in the nose. I've very good aim."
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 12, 2008 17:29:53 GMT -5
"I'd rather not spill the beans," Jeun said, leading his employee out to the space he'd cleared, "For one I don't keep beans in the shop. Secondly, even if I did, it would be messy. Then you would have to clean it up and I'm sure you wouldn't want to do that. So I think that we'll just skip the bean spilling for today.
"In any case. I'm obviously loosing my mind. Literally. It has a lot to do with not having a body," he explained, putting his hand onto her waist. If there was one thing that he really appreciated about Zahra, it was that she was not taller then him. More and more people were taller then he was and it was getting to the point where he was getting miffed. In the eighteenth century he'd been on the relatively tall side and now how the mighty had fallen.
"And since," he continued, beginning their tango, "I am loosing my mind and my body has been stolen off to some obscure place where I don't know if I'll ever see it again it's becoming very hard to keep myself in one piece. Also- please don't belittle me. You're not the first telepath I've ever worked with. I'm not going to be read like an open book just because I'm a little bit-" he glanced at his hand as it passed through her hand again, he grabbed her again and affirmed that he was indeed mostly solid, "-Insubstantial. Really, I've been alive for a very long time and I am very much a creature of habit. It will take much more then insanity to take down my mental wall. Well, for a the moment at least. I don't know how it will fare next week."
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