Merlin
In a land of Myth & Magic
The Last Dragon Lord
Loyal Servant to the King
Posts: 81
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Post by Merlin on Apr 20, 2013 19:42:27 GMT -5
 The bell above the door rang out into the quiet room before him as the seemingly young man entered the occult bookshop for the first time since his discovery of it several weeks ago. Merlin had finally made the decision to give in to his curiosity, despite knowing he shouldn't be doing this... shouldn't be indulging in the past this way and seeking out relics that were long gone. But he couldn't let go of the hopes that there still might be something, somewhere... left behind and forgotten from times gone by. He needed that something to hold onto. Hope was all he had left these days.
The smell overpowered him the moment he entered the room, filling his senses with an array of nostalgia. Old parchment, aged leather and hints of musty incense brought back memories of his past, of one friend in particular whom he had once held very dear to him. He was always surprised by how difficult it was to find elements from his past, but oh so easy to find it's fragrance in places such as these. He inhaled deeply, feeling a yearning ache grow in his heart as he closed the door behind him and ventured further towards the tall shelves brimming with old books, calling out into the silence as he did so. "Hello?"
The books were cracked and worn he noted, as he ran his fingers along their aged leather spines, reading the text printed on each and every one. These were the sorts of books that spoke of myths and magic, but to find one containing fragments of said myths would certainly be something else indeed.
He moved further along, shifting behind a leather seat to reach the shelf in the corner, it's occupants even more tattered and worn looking than the ones he had viewed previously. He was completely lost in the memories and intrigue...so lost infact that he failed to hear the shuffling sound nearby as he reached up, taking a book from it's rightful place to carefully skim through it's worn pages. |
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Post by Vincent Dyser on May 12, 2013 22:24:44 GMT -5
The subtle scrunch of leather stirred in the otherwise silent room as Vincent sunk back into an elaborate looking Baroque chair. It was placed somewhat haphazardly between scattered piles of ancient leather-bound books and an open fireplace whose embers were burning down to their last. The auburn haired artisan absentmindedly stroked his chin, a heavy look of concentration etched upon his face as he read through yesterdays evening news-sheet all the while not really paying attention to what he was reading.
He should have been working. He had a timepiece to repair and many books to catalog upon the lofty shelves that made up the entirety of his Fleet Street bookshop. However, business had been slow lately and as such there hadn't been much of a rush to get things done. Making money was of little priority these days since coming into money. He was by no-means exceedingly rich, but thanks to his late fathers estate he was comfortable enough to not need worry about the immediate future.
Disgusted by the brief memory of his father Vincent let out a sudden huff, rolling his eyes as he scrunched the news-sheet into a ball and tossed the paper onto the fire. He was just reaching for his cigarettes when he heard the shop bell chime with the opening door followed by a singular pair of shuffling footsteps
A Customer.
Vincent, by no-means enthusiastic about dealing with members of the public on any day of the week decided to carry on with lighting up a cigarette. He inhaled the opium tainted smoke with a deep draw of breath and allowed himself a brief glimpse at his appearance in the mirror before heading out onto the shop floor.
"Hello?"
Silently Vincent followed the direction of the voice making sure to avoid any loose floorboards so as not to draw attention to himself. The element of surprise was always something he preferred to have on his side, especially when dealing with customers. Carefully he rounded one of the end bookcases and took a glance at the seemingly normal young man stood admiring the books. Straight away Vincent could tell that this young man was by no-means his regular Fleet Street customer, in-fact, it wasn't often at all he saw any sort of young people in his shop, especially ones that seemed so interested in books most people would consider to be nothing more than glorified leather-bound tinder for a fire on a cold winters night.
It was only after the young man had removed one of the books from the shelf and began to skim through its pages did Vincent decide to take a step forward and announce his presence.
"Those books are particularly old and rather expensive," Vincent said finally, hoping to startle the young man. "Were you looking for something in particular?"
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Merlin
In a land of Myth & Magic
The Last Dragon Lord
Loyal Servant to the King
Posts: 81
|
Post by Merlin on May 27, 2013 17:47:00 GMT -5
 It wasn't the type of book he was looking for, but the scent of old parchment that wafted up at his nose each time he turned a page over, reminded Merlin of his past, and of the one book he had treasured most.
He knew it was wrong to be indulging in his own history like this, but it was in his nature. It was a part of him that would always be there, no matter how much he tried to push it aside and forget about it, even if he did still have to keep it a secret. After all this time, all these years....nothing had really changed. Infact the world had worsened. Everything he had once known was gone. Forgotten.
The young man spun around, fumbling to keep hold of the book which almost flew out of his grasp as a voice suddenly startled him from behind. "Sorry!" he announced quickly, eyes wide with surprise as he took in the man's dapper appearance, the threads of opium scented cigarette smoke drifting around him making his presence seem all the more mysterious and intriguing. His words made it perfectly clear that he was the owner of the bookshop.
"I was just..." His words faltered before he could finish. Merlin couldn't quite remember the last time he'd felt so nervous. He felt as though he'd been caught practising old habits, rather than leafing through a worn book.
"I heard that you specialise in old books." he managed at last, swallowing down the dryness in his throat before lowering his voice as though he were divulging in some well hidden secret. "Very old books... Ancient books." |
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Post by Vincent Dyser on Aug 6, 2013 22:31:10 GMT -5
"I heard that you specialise in old books."
The young man seemed rather nervous, Vincent thought as he studied the boys demeanor.
"Very old books... Ancient books."
"Well, yes, i suppose that is true," Vincent said unable to hide the slightest hint of smugness in his tone as he was the only bookseller of his sort in the greater London region. "Not that I get many gentleman as young as yourself looking for Ancient books..." The bookseller paced the floor, glancing at the young man somewhat suspiciously before slowly pacing towards the shop door and leaning against the oak frame.
Vincent was almost certainly convinced this young man had been sent in as a decoy of sorts. He had never seen anyone as young as this come inquiring to his bookshop. He had rich Fleet Street fat cats sniffing around in weeks gone by, looking to possibly buy him out for find a reason to have his shop shut down. However, this boy didn't seem like the type or look altogether intelligent enough to hold together a plan to elicit information. Maybe he was working for the church, Yes, that could be it. Send the boy to find the most blasphemous book he had, then force him to close shop because of the ensuing outrage from the church and its senior members.
Vincent raised an eyebrow, deciding to humor the young man and his request. "Of course, i don't normally show such ancient and valuable books to just anyone. You understand." The artisan locked the front door and flashed the young man a dazzling smile. "Not in a rush, are you?" Vincent paced towards the boy now, cigarette in mouth as he inhaled the rich smoke before blowing the heady smoke in the young mans face. "Only it might take me a while to locate the sort of ancient texts you're searching for."
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