Written in the Ink of Ages [Rosy+Ivan]

Roisin's mound was her stronghold, her safe place when the world of Now and Real got to be too much for a dream floating through it. For nearly nine hundred years, it had been her sanctuary. But cliche as it sounded, she could feel change in the air, it was like a subtle static charge lingering on the breezes. And for the first time since she created her little hill away from Hills, she questioned it's security.

That is what led her to the dusty bookstore, an elaborately carved box tucked securely in her arms containing several tomes she had kept for millennia. The path between here and her home traversed quickly, but silently.

Her emerald eyes swept the store in search of the owner, because although she may be an expert on keeping her mound safe, this man was the expert on keeping the written words out of the wrong hands. At least, if the stories she remembered were true. She hoped it hadn't already passed into new management or something. That had been known to happen...

Ivan had been ducked underneath the front desk at the time, having not heard the front door open signaling that someone came in. He was going through a small stack of books that had just been returned to him from another customer and pushing them through the sorting chutes on the back of the desk. They weren't really chutes so much as portals, portals with specific labels and functions. The bodark was pushing several books into one labeled "worn, hard-backed, non-fiction reference" one at a time. Someone had checked out a bunch of old dictionaries for some reason. Ivan didn't bother questioning it though, it was his job and he didn't mind too much.

The books were sucked in with a loud whoosh sound before the familiar sound of paper and fangs gnashing told him someone had walked in that Rusland, his guard-tome, hadn't seen before. He pulled his head up from behind the desk, tugging on the chain that attached the old leather book to the desk. "Здравствуйте?" His voice was quiet and unassuming as he peered over the counter.

(( Здравствуйте = Formal hello, normally only said once a day to any given individual by any given individual ))

Roisins bare feet moved noiselessly over the hardwood floors as she approached the desk, momentarily fascinated by the sentient books set on it. She was mildly surprised to see no illusion over it. She consciously kept the long sleeves of her pale green shift away from its... fangs?

Her attention shifted to the pale man whose head had just appeared from behind the desk. "Greetings," she replied. She tilted her head so her hair was no longer in her eyes, not wanting to take a hand away from the box. She had only seen the man at a distance before, but she recalled him being much taller. "You are the bookkeeper, correct?" she asked. After all, she had to make sure of these things.

Ivan stood up fully, placing a firm hand on top of Ruslan, silencing the tome. "Да, how may I help you?" he asked, smiling awkwardly with his slight fangs in plain sight. He took a moment to look more carefully at the woman who'd come into his establishment. She was lovely to look at in her long green dress with pale skin and startlingly red hair. She was certainly exotic, but so was the entire town's populace. He wasn't particularly surprised.

"Are you looking to purchase a book, borrow a book, or perhaps deposit one into the archives?" Ivan raised an eyebrow, after he'd spoken, because he noticed the ornate box underneath the woman's arm. There were probably books in there... Probably old books that needed a safe place to hide. That was one of the things he was best at.

Ah, that was more like the height she remembered. She regarded him with critical eyes, fully prepared to cast an illusion and make him believe she had never set foot in the store if she didn't like what she found. After a moment of scrutiny she decided that she liked what she saw well enough.

She shifted subtly in the dim light, reaffirming her grip on the carved wood in her arms. "That depends," she replied, holding his eyes, "How well can you keep a secret?"

Ivan leaned back a bit, feeling like it was going to be another one of those days where someone brought him some highly valuable information they wanted hidden away in unsearchable archives. Those were not days he had ever had many of, but he was more than prepared to deal with it. His job was to secure information after all.

"Secrets?" he parroted softly, "I keep many~" An unexpectedly wolfish grin crossed his face, before he controlled it into being just his faux soft smile. She would have been tasty... if she smelled like prey, but no... she smelled... odd, not edible. He quickly shook the disturbing thoughts from his head because eating customers was not and never will be appropriate professional behavior.

The bodark looked back down to his guard-tome, stroking it. "I do require further information for any secret to kept," he said, "Along with appropriate... compensation."

There was something fierce about him, wild and untamable. It was good, it was real. She decided he would be a good protector. It never once entered her mind to fear him, she had only ever had cause to fear the hunters and the Dark Courts. He was neither, so he was not deemed a threat.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Payment I can give freely, but information is kept closer," she said warily. Her grip tightened on the box and the secrets kept within it. "What kind of information do you require?"

Ivan rapped his long fingernails against the counter as he pondered her words. Well, he'd be paid, hopefully in the manner he deemed acceptable... Rubles. He'd only ever take rubles. Worthless in the Earth economies, but he preferred them because they reminded him of his ancient home, granted he was hardly old to begin with. He only looked thirty years old when he was twice that many years. He kept all of his cash, for the store at least, in a drawstring bag left under Ruslan's guard. He always took a significant portion home, specifically the profits. What was left in the bag every day was the overhead.

"I require," he said calmly with that rather fake, benign smile of his that showed pointed canines when he spoke, "nature... of information, how dangerous it might be to keep... how it might be... cataloged in my archives~ Is sometimes more expensive due to... extra security measures depending on your... secret~" The smile widened into more of a smirk. He was generally more friendly with customers he dealt with regularly. New people would get a bit more bite in their bark when dealing with this bodark.

Roisin's eyes sharpened. There was something, disingenuous about his face that she liked far less than his earlier show of ferocity. It was more dream and less real, but still, she was here and this was the best place for it in Mythos. She regarded him for another moment before relenting a bit. "Very well, I will tell you what I can."

She ran a finger gently over the intricate knot-work carved into the wooden surface, the corners smooth from time. Each one encouraged a person to avoid opening the box, a classic example of Sidhe misdirection. "These scripts are older than Mythos," she began, voice quiet and somber, "They are writings of my people, my home where they still hold Court in an unending dream." She held his gaze, trying to convey the seriousness of all this with her eyes. "These are not meant for mortal eyes, and I have kept them hidden in my own way ever since I came here. I fear this will not be enough anymore, and that is why I have come to you."

Roisin loosened her grip on the box, holding it before her as if she was presenting it. "You may file them under 'Sidhe,'" she said, "Does this meet your requirements?"

Ivan narrowed his eyes at her, patting the cover of Ruslan very carefully. He did not trust her already, not with the way she was looking at him now. It made him feel very uncomfortable inside, like she was far more than she seemed to be. He hated lies. They made the purpose of a library completely void. He sighed a bit as he mentally noted what she was saying however.

The bodark let his mind tumble the words "Court" and "people"... He only knew of one group that held "Courts" and could be considered their own sentient race completely separate from mortal man... She beat him to it with the word "Sidhe" to file these books under. Ivan leaned back away from the counter for a second, regarding her cautiously. This was no normal denizen of Mythos... She was the very creature the category described, wasn't she? It certainly explained her unearthly beauty. He could feel though, that part was something he would have to hide for free... in his own best interests. He didn't want any member of the Sidhe against him.

"Da." Ivan reached out to touch the ornate box gingerly, running his fingers along to feel the texture. It was certainly old... worn, seen many a day. He tried to lift the box from her hands, curious to see the tomes inside. "If they are not for mortals, would you rather they are locked away than filed with less... valuable books on the Sidhe?" he asked.

Roisin watched him as he reached out for the box and smiled, despite his expression he was being honest. She would have been able to tell if he was lying when her touched the wood. It was a great relief to her and she let her hands fall away from it so it was only held aloft by the bodark's hands. It was as if the knot binding her chest had unravelled and let her breathe again.

Before answering him she said, "You will be a good keeper." She was much happier now that her fears were being laid to rest, sure there would be a twinge of apprehension just because they were far from her, but she felt much more secure now. "That would be for the best," she replied, "You must understand, these tomes ensure the safety of my people." She traced the lines of the box with her eyes, expression falling somewhat. "They no longer appreciate that they need to protect themselves from anything outside of their dream."

This woman... This Sidhe was being somewhat cryptic, but really, what more could he expect from the Fae? He sighed as he more closely inspected the box in his hands. It had a nice weight to it, clearly holding several books... easily. He pulled it closer to himself, across the counter-top. Ruslan snapped in the direction of the box before a firm hand slapped him shut with a hurried admonition in Russian.

"For these books, I think," he said, still casually stroking the box to feel all of the embellishments upon it. "Special deal for so many, seven hundred rubles and I hide these for you, da? How sound?" He tapped the box gently with his fingernails, not to scratch it, but just to keep his hands busy. He was rather... distrustful of this woman, but she was giving him business. Good business, if unusual.

The living book was interesting, and unlike anything she had ever seen. Every time it moved she found her eyes drawn to it. A small warm chuckle slipped through her lips as it was reprimanded. It was so delightfully alive.

She couldn't help but be glad to see that was handling the box well. "That sounds fair," she said. Roisin reached for a soft leather purse she had tucked into her sleeve and deposited the coins on his desk. "I believe these should be sufficient." They were old rubles, some from the first years they had been minted, but they shone as if new. Rosy liked to keep everything of value in good condition. "Also, for doing this for me, you will be in my favor," she remarked. Had this been long ago, that would have been a given, but she found that nowadays one had to spell things out. "You may call on me if you have need of me."

Ivan would certainly take a peek at these books before putting them away, to better ascertain their worth and type. Before he looked back up at her, he had to ask, "Do you want box back?" It was a gorgeous box and surely this woman would want it back. It had to be important to her, especially if she entrusted it to hold such "dangerous" material.

His eyes lit up at the shining ruble coins she handed him in payment. "These are more than sufficient..." he said, looking at them with a bit of bewilderment. They were so... new looking and yet he knew they were among the first rubles in existence. He gathered a small amount into the palm of his hand and brought them up to his face to look at them much more carefully. Yes, these were hundreds of years old. How could she- Wait, she was Sidhe... She was probably older than the earliest concept of Kievan Rus.

After putting the bag of coins away beneath the desk, he looked back at her with more confusion as she continued talking. "Favor?" he parroted. Was this some sort of cult he'd accidentally joined where he wanted to receive favor from Sidhe? He didn't even know if she was light or dark! He'd never actually met a Sidhe before so... he never figured out what to look for or bothered to read too terribly much about them (now he would have a chance with some fresh reading material). "Call on you? What you mean... exactly?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow, unsure really how to handle what she'd just told him. He didn't mean to be rude at all; he was only confused.

Rosy's eyes lingered on the box, but she shook her head. "No. It doesn't belong to me," she answered, "It belongs to the writings." It was odd, letting something go that had been with her since she left the Kingdom. She would need to find something new to fill its place in her mound.

She smiled, pleased that he seemed to like her payment. Roisin was always proud of the fineries she could provide. "You are in my good graces, because you are helping me," she said, explaining the traditional exchange. "As a reward, I will aid you if you have need of me." Rosy lifted her arms a bit, as if she were showing off herself. "My protection and my talents are available to you. Just do not abuse my kindness."

The box belonged to... the writings? The box was possessed by other inanimate objects? Well, he could just let that be what it was and not question it. It wasn't too terribly important, was it? So long as he kept the books and box stored together when he did not have a book out to be read, it shouldn't be a problem for him. "I understand," he said, remaining calm as he rubbed the box once more. He'd keep them together...

The bodark continued to eye her carefully, with continued skepticism as she further explained the concept of "favor". He'd kind of understood most of what that meant, at least in general terms, but she just said the same thing again... using prettier language. There was something so... odd about her. It must have been a Sidhe thing, to not make a whole lot of sense when they were talking. Ivan nodded, one hand still on the box. She was... clearly quite proud of herself, probably very aware of how she appeared... She was clearly confident in her talents, whatever they happened to be. Ivan had no intention of finding out what they were or if she was bluffing. He was treading potentially dangerous water.

"I accept your favor, madam," he said, smiling like always to try and keep the situation positive. "I am Ivan Nikolayevich Braginsky," the bodark explained, having angled his palm towards his chest in an introductory gesture. "In case we have further business, you may call me Ivan Nikolayevich or Mr. Braginsky, whichever is easier, da? What are you called?" That palm extended out in offer to shake hands, as was proper.

She nodded, glad that all of that had been cleared up. There weren't many creatures in Mythos that she favored exclusively, so she didn't have to worry about being stretched too thin. A few favors would be more than manageable. "Then let me know whenever you need me," she said pleasantly.

She reached out and took his hand, shaking it with a gentle but steady grip. "Ivan Nikolayevich, I am Roisin Gallagher and you may call me whatever you like. It is a pleasure doing business with you."

"Ochen priyatno," he said as their hands clasped, "A pleasure." Once Ivan was capable of having his hand back from the lovely Sidhe woman... Roisin Gallagher, he continued to smile. Of course her name was Irish, he should have guessed, what with her accent and the fact that she reflected what little Sidhe lore he knew.

He sighed, hiding his newly obtained set of books beneath the counter-top to put away once he had a free moment. It was generally too distracting to sort books, especially books that required more security, while there were customers about in his shop. There was one more thing though, that he was concerned about. She was... very mysterious, as he would have expected, but he had to know just how much she considered public knowledge. "Am I to keep quiet about having ever seen you?" he asked.

Roisin let out a sincere, bell-like laugh. "No, you do not need to," she replied with a grin, "It is fine for people to know I've been here." She glanced out the window at the town outside. "That's the lovely thing about Mythos, isn't it? We don't have to hide. It be very lonely if had hidden my presence here for all these years. Just please refrain from telling them just what is hidden here."

She nodded to Ivan and turned towards the door. "I'll leave you be now, but you should stop by my pub sometime and say 'hello.'" She tossed him one more grin. "I assure you that the drinks there are second to none."

Ivan's smile broadened with her laughter. It was almost like a cue to be merry as opposed to the drab propriety he normally displayed for everyone. "I do this for you then~" he chimed happily, hands clasped together in glee. He rarely got to show a legitimate smile, but today he was gifted with such an opportunity, tiny little fangs glinting in the light.

Normally, Ivan only ever drank at home, in his leisure, but he did know the pub she was talking about. He had no idea it was hers. He nodded again. "Of course, I stop by later~" he promised, waving farewell as Roisin headed out of his establishment.

(( -end thread?- ))