Post by Camille St. James on Oct 14, 2020 15:53:50 GMT -5
Camille was nothing if not persistent. She might not be quite as aggressive as her sister, who took her competitive energy and channeled it into weapons, but she wasn’t going to give up on a challenge after the first try, either. Especially not when she was pretty sure she was on the track of something interesting. She was eager to talk a bit more with the strange young man she’d met at the book shop. Perhaps she ought to be staying away from someone who’d held her at knifepoint, as he’d suggested, but she just didn’t think he was really as terrifying as he was trying to insist he was. And that meant that she blew through the book she’d purchased in two days (really, one day, and then the next night she’d stayed up late finishing it by candlelight).
She’d told Finnian Carver she’d be back as soon as she finished her book…so back to Lucifer’s Pleasure’s she went. She was positively beaming when she saw him sitting in the same spot outside, but she went past him to get a new book first–she didn’t want to be put in a spot where the only reason she’d showed up was to bother him. It wouldn’t hurt her to have a new book, too.
Coming back out of the store with her purchase, she saw he was working on a new block of wood, no longer the tiny hummingbird he’d been detailing before. This one was still rough, only beginning to take the shape of whatever creature it might become. She watched his deft movements for a moment, wondering how he managed not to stab himself as he took chip after chip off the piece in his hands.
Deciding to take his advice on how to get his attention, she waved her new book between him and the wood–definitely closer to his hands than his face. Somehow sticking a book right in front of his eyes seemed more offensive.
“Hello again!” she greeted him in a singsong voice.
She’d told Finnian Carver she’d be back as soon as she finished her book…so back to Lucifer’s Pleasure’s she went. She was positively beaming when she saw him sitting in the same spot outside, but she went past him to get a new book first–she didn’t want to be put in a spot where the only reason she’d showed up was to bother him. It wouldn’t hurt her to have a new book, too.
Coming back out of the store with her purchase, she saw he was working on a new block of wood, no longer the tiny hummingbird he’d been detailing before. This one was still rough, only beginning to take the shape of whatever creature it might become. She watched his deft movements for a moment, wondering how he managed not to stab himself as he took chip after chip off the piece in his hands.
Deciding to take his advice on how to get his attention, she waved her new book between him and the wood–definitely closer to his hands than his face. Somehow sticking a book right in front of his eyes seemed more offensive.
“Hello again!” she greeted him in a singsong voice.
