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Post by Teja on Mar 19, 2020 10:41:40 GMT -5
Trying to convince some kind of alien princeling not to paint his nails and publicly drink from an acid-green Martini glass he was magically refilling from time to time shouldn't have been so difficult, but Lukas - Loki, the once and future mayor of New York - was turning out to be exhausting to manage. It seemed that in Asgard - the real Asgard! - adorning oneself and showing off one's ability to drink without becoming intoxicated were viewed as leadership qualities. Or he was spinning it that way, anyway. He didn't seem to be quite so silver-tongued as the stories said. Slippery, though, for sure.
Most of the time they met for vigorous walks - he was tall, but she walked quickly; they matched each other's paces well enough - or stopped in a café to furtively discuss both his assimilation and accrued cultural knowledge, and his campaign. But most recently they had met at a bar, his idea; and he was having a maddening upsurge of interest in cocktails.
He had a lot of interests, most of them unrelated, apart from the resurgent fascination with beverages, though since they usually met places they could drink something she suspected he had the potential to be just as interested in sports or music or something. He was really into New Wave at the moment, too. And he'd expressed a curiosity about lawyers that had persisted with a vengeance after he'd heard it was a good avenue to get into politics from.
Teja passed by a bookstore on her way home then, and remembered she still hadn't gotten him a book on Norse mythology. Really, she'd been putting it off. He was likely to hit the roof when he read it, and she'd be listening to him sputter and rage for hours. Worst of all, that look in his eyes when he pleaded with her, as if she could change what Sturrulsson had written a thousand years ago, looking so sad and so pretty at the same time... That was really annoying of him.
But she'd known him about a week so she owed him by now. With a sigh and a little ringing bell, she entered the shop.
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Post by Graf von Krolock on Mar 19, 2020 13:47:55 GMT -5
He had offered, more times than he could count, to have the library from home shipped out here, but Herbert had turned so sullen and cross with the very idea- that familiar childish wheedle in his voice as he complained that he had read nearly everything in the library already, and that he hated most of it for making him feel stupid- that Johannes had sighed and placated him by offering to get him a few more books after all. They were in English, and as he had no clue as to whether or not Herbert's ability to read in English was up to par, he'd erred on the side of the kind of reading he'd tried to procure for him back home, when it was merely youth and not troubling simplicity that had limited his dear son's capabilities. A few volumes of fairy tales, with all the cruelty and necessary lessons intact, rested in the crook of Johannes's arm already.
Herbert had of course asked to be allowed to go buy the books himself, but given the living conditions in which Johannes had found him, Johannes had determined the boy needed at least a few months of recovery in the new house on West 86th Street. Johannes disliked having to leave in his own right, but he was learning to manage. Gloves mostly concealed the wretched condition of his hands, and he had found an overcoat with a broad, cowl-like hood that shielded his face and head from the sun.
The first few tries, his hair had proved troublesome- too long to keep behind his head, even with a plait, and prone to hanging out of the front of the hood like so much dead straw. Herbert offered to cut it off, as a favor, and Johannes, who had no vanity or fondness for wearing it long, was only too glad to allow it. In the few passing glances he got of himself at home after the deed was done, he thought he might even have fancied himself handsome, and something that belonged in this world, until it inevitably replenished itself the next day. But on reflection- no pun intended- it seemed cruel to remind Herbert that he would be leaving the house while Herbert convalesced, and Johannes had resigned himself to gathering it in his hand and hacking through it, as perfunctorily as tying his necktie, before putting on his overcoat and drawing up the hood, with his hair now hanging lank and blunt somewhere near his shoulders. It did his face, drawn and cold as ever, no favors, but it hardly made anything worse, either.
He turned away by instinct as the bell rang, looking like nothing so much as some kind of figure of the reaper from behind at first glance, and not caring that he did.
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Post by Teja on Mar 19, 2020 14:03:22 GMT -5
Teja sang a little under her breath to herself as she browsed the shelves, but stopped abruptly when she noticed another customer - tall and broad and draped menacingly in a black coat, back to her. On feminine instinct, she did not approach him. He was considerably taller than she was, although perhaps not as tall as Loki. Then again Loki did not give one the impression of looming. He sort of looked like, if he turned sideways, he might disappear. Even though he was more lean than truly skinny, he didn't seem to be able to help himself. It was that manic vibe of his, she figured.
The trouble was the man in question seemed to be blocking the mythology and folklore section as he skimmed through a volume. He had embarrassingly attractive hands - leather gloves covering strangely long fingers - which were closer to her eye level than his head was - and she was determinedly not looking at him; it was already mortifying to be so much in another person's personal space. Delicately she reached past him, stammered, "Excuse me - " and plucked out a volume of Norse myths as quickly as she could.
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Post by Graf von Krolock on Mar 19, 2020 14:13:41 GMT -5
Johannes peered over her shoulder at her. The hood concealed most of his lower face, from his nose downward, so she could not have seen his long teeth, or the way one of them popped over his lower lip.
"Ah," he said. "Forgive me."
He stepped aside and waved a hand so that the little mortal could see the rest of the shelf.
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Post by Teja on Mar 19, 2020 14:18:17 GMT -5
She cautioned a quick glance into the rather wan face - piercing eyes, very strong nose - just so that he would be certain to see she smiled in gratitude. It was the sort of quick glance she was accustomed to having to pull off, to make sure someone heard a thank you or a good morning in passing, without wanting to look for more than a moment. But he had a puzzlingly interesting face.
"Not at all," she said. "I'm sorry for disrupting you."
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Post by Graf von Krolock on Mar 19, 2020 14:55:58 GMT -5
He pulled his arms toward himself and crossed them, with the books still in his arms, looking like something out of a silent film.
"It is no matter. These are public spaces, are they not? How good of this city to have these for such easy acquisition."
He made another little gesture toward the shelves with one hand- a little drop of the palm, a curling of the long fingers- and then pulled it back to himself. Aside from the pale diamond of his face in the hood, he could have been carved out of black stone.
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Post by Teja on Mar 19, 2020 15:05:20 GMT -5
Wow, everyone in the city was really goth lately. She actually wondered for a moment if that was really his native accent or if he was just very dedicated to the aesthetic, but after some thought it occurred to her she was shortchanging how wonderful a place the world could be. After all, she'd met Loki now, so anything was possible.
"Are you new? I've only been here a couple of years, myself. It's a bit too big, really, but it does have everything."
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Post by Graf von Krolock on Mar 19, 2020 16:46:53 GMT -5
"Some months now," Johannes said dismissively. "My son- he has been here for much longer."
He gestured at the books.
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Post by Teja on Mar 19, 2020 17:10:07 GMT -5
"Oh?" she asked, her smile widening unconsciously. Like a lot of women, Teja was particularly susceptible to the notion of single fathers. "How old is he?"
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Post by Graf von Krolock on Mar 19, 2020 17:28:56 GMT -5
Johannes hesitates.
“...twenty, for all practical matters. He would insist that, at least.”
He finally smiled, a little painfully.
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Post by Teja on Mar 19, 2020 17:32:20 GMT -5
Twenty, but perhaps not emotionally or mentally mature enough for books for a boy his age. His smile, in defiance of his clear pain at the admission, was so sympathetic and so human she wanted to make up for having prompted him to confess it in the first place.
"He's fortunate to have a father to bring him books," she said sincerely, even though her own relationship with her father was far from excellent, and she still received Christmas gifts of books from him that she did not even open. "Does he love reading? I think it's the best pasttime. Even in a busy place like this."
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Post by Graf von Krolock on Mar 19, 2020 17:39:53 GMT -5
“I am trying to encourage it,” Johannes said wearily. “He is more disposed toward going out, getting into one sort of mischief or another- to his grave detriment, I am afraid.”
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Post by Teja on Mar 19, 2020 17:49:22 GMT -5
His accent was very familiar to her.
"Are you from Germany?" she asked, trying to sound casually interested, rather than nosy, pushing her long hair over her shoulder.
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Post by Graf von Krolock on Mar 19, 2020 22:28:45 GMT -5
"Ah- no," he said, as he tried to sort out whether or not an American, let alone a very young one like this, would even understand the actual answer, and then adding, as though to demonstrate that he was at least somewhat aware of current events, "Neither of them."
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Post by Teja on Mar 20, 2020 13:20:29 GMT -5
She laughed sheepishly.
"I apologize. Your accent is so similar to my Omi's."
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