open ✦ l'essential est invisible

[raziel]

Unsurprisingly, a collection of books was already beginning.  Back home, a massive library held the eldest son's extensive selection of texts.  He organized it meticulously.  He read and re-read every chance he got.  Consequently, Raziel had to admit he had appeared a rather 'anti-social' child.  Perhaps it was true, and still true.  He sought the company of books more than any sentient being.  Of course, he did enjoy intellectual debates and philosophical discussion.  Day-to-day, absent small-talk was no use to him.

With a carefully splinted leg, most of the newcomer's movements involved transporting books into his new home.  Despite his injury, Raziel had claimed a treehouse.  It simply made sense.  From what he learned of the divisions, he knew this was where he'd be staying; he was a man of knowledge and compassion not of warfare, or of social talent.  It simply made more sense.

With a creased brow, Raziel looked through his relatively small new collection.  It would take time to build it up, especially since he could not conjure any of his favorites from home.  There were many sea-faring books; tales of the ocean, of sailors and monsters.  He didn't pay them much mind at the moment, though he filed them away from later.  By some off-chance, he had found someone willing to part with a copy of Le Petit Prince, a book he had grown up on.  Now if he could just find Lord of the Rings, and Narnia; he'd have all the beginning of his fondest tomes. "Let's see... Treasure Island... Watership Down... Golden Compass..." Perhaps he would start with Le Petit Prince.

With a hum, the studious tom carried his choice down to the bay, finding a love of the clear water and freshness of the air.  It really was beautiful, this island. That in mind, Raziel settled down to read.  It was an unfortunately short book, but sweet none the less, if not rather sad at the end.

— ✦ —

[jacob w.c.]

THE BLUE AND GREEN BELOW IS A MASTERPIECE — Jacob loved reading the moment he learned how to. He wasn't interested in the business reports of his father or the news, though. He had loved stories. He'd read every single one he could. He read fantasy, mystery, science fiction, biographies, textbooks, anything. He'd even read one about close up magic once. Not real magic, of course, but card tricks and the like. His family had liked that he knew all of that, it was easier to steal that way. He had always been fairly good at slight of hand before but after that he was excellent. He didn't do it much these days, though. It was a reminder of all the things he'd used it for before, and that didn't make him particularly comfortable. These days his only goal was to make sure everyone he cared for was relatively happy and that he was happy. That meant that most days he just liked to pretend his old life in the city had never happened. He still hadn't told his Babbo about Pincher in their letters. He knew he'd be angry. For one thing, he had no idea that Jacob wasn't particularly interested in women currently, for for another, if he was going to be with a man, he knew that Pincher is not what Vito would have in mind. He was aggressive, basically ran his own criminal organization (although Jacob liked to refer to it as other things to ward off his guilt, he knew that's what it was), and he was part of the family that had brought Jacob's entire life down to ashes, both literally and metaphorically.

Jacob wished life could be more like a story. Where everyone, in the end, came together with love and support. If his life were a story, Jacob thinks maybe a good ending point would be when Pincher returned from the dead. There would be a full chapter of them reuniting and then they'd walk off into the sunset together, leaned against each other and smiling. That would be the end. There'd be no awful notes from his former (and current) stalker, there'd be no dealing with the fallout of a relationship someone's entire family was against, there'd be no more hallucinations and no more sadness. It'd just be Jacob and Pincher Roux for the rest of eternity and Jacob thought he'd like that very much. But that wasn't what happened. He was here and there was still so much pain and sadness he didn't know how to fix any of it. Sometimes he got overwhelmed by it all. It was too much for one person to fix, yet Jacob always tried to do something about it all. Then, when he ultimately failed, he'd sick into isolation for weeks on end trying to think of new solutions.

Jacob hadn't read a story in a long time, though. Most of his reading now consisted of medical books. Sometimes he would find old notes that Lottie had written in her old books or she'd reference a book he didn't remember reading. Then there was some research he'd just prompt himself to do on his own, if he was curious about a certain subject and he didn't recall looking over it much with his Ma. For example, recently he'd taken an interest in stitching. He knew some basics from Lottie but he'd never had the opportunity to ask her more about it and it'd always intrigued him, given his interest in sewing. They weren't exactly the same activity but they were similar enough that it'd gained his interest from a young age. Some time ago, he decided to do some research on various types of stitching and what the advantages for each type were. Now he felt skilled enough in the area that he carried around an emergency kit in his bag in case he ever came across a wound that'd need it in a hurry. It'd taken a lot of practicing and he'd only been able to do it a couple times on actual individuals but it worked well enough.

That was what most of Jacob's reading was. Sometimes he would find an old book he'd liked as a kid and pick it up to read but he didn't do that often. He supposed now that he was in Typhoon he could do more of that, if he ever really wanted to. He didn't have any obligations or responsibilities here so he certainly had the opportunity. He could relax, if he wanted to. Still, relaxing wasn't in Jacob's nature and so today he found himself wandering around looking for any herbs or medical related items he could use. That was when he happened to notice a stranger nearby. While he knew a lot of Typhoon, there were still a few he'd never met, even with all his visits during Snowbound. Still, that didn't mean he wanted to stay that way. The more of his new clanmates he knew, the better. So, the husky made his way over with a light smile on his maw before speaking, "Sorry ta' bother ya', I know you're readin', but I jus' wanted ta' say hi 'cause I don' think we've met before. My name's Jacob." The greeting was simple enough as he let his eyes wander to the book in the creature's paws. "Le Petit Prince. Do ya' prefer it in the French or English?" — BUT YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL LIKE I'VE NEVER SEEN

"SPEECH"

tags

[Keona.]

✯ — female. striker of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

Uncle Raziel was new to her.  He seemed nice though.  More... Quiet and refined than her father or Uncle Sea.  She thinks she likes him, but she didn't really know him quite yet.  So when the smaller rusty spotted cat heard Jacob talking to someone and recognized the scent, the feline paused, ears perked in curious attention.  A shy smile flashed across her maw as she sought the proper angle for her head.  "Aloha Mister Jacob... Uncle Raz," the Striker murmured, hoping the newfound member of her family did not mind the nickname so soon in their meeting.

All the talk of reading befuddled her.  Keona did not know how to read.  She could follow a map, given it was created for her paws, but she had never known the world of literature.  Her pale sea-green eyes flickered in sheepish confusion.  She knew what a prince was, but why was he petit? Petit meant... What did petit mean?  Keona the inside of her cheek.  French was a new word too, but she knew what English was... It was what everyone spoke, right?

The child rocked on her paws, tail flicking.  "Is it... A book?" Although she did put in an effort, her voice came out rather small, uncomfortable in her lack of knowledge.

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