LES RUCHERS

"Hey you!" Kiraz exclaimed, marching up to the first fae she saw lingering in the Emerald Hotel's lobby. "I need your help. I think my sister and some other people are stuck in the damn elevator," She explained, trying not to wince as she heard them calling out for help from somewhere within the elevator shaft, thanks to her apparent super hearing. She had only bothered to swing by the hotel to see if she couldn't cheer her sister's flying practice progress on, but now she was fairly certain Leyla was in grave danger, and she sure as hell wasn't going to wait around when her sister needed her. "I think I might be able to pry the doors open, but if I do, you wouldn't be able to help get to them, would you?" She asked, knowing that it was a long shot, especially with the entire power being out at the hotel, but at this point, anything was worth a shot.

"Thank you. I thought it was very funny. Bees are are always themselves. I do not know what else they would be," Ignacio explained. "I do not think I am very good at the flag game, however. It seems to have many variables. What is the meaning of that? No harm, no foul? I am to learn the idioms." Ignacio looked upward as the lights flickered. "Hmm. Would you like help with the fuses? We have double luck. Surely we can make it work?" He smiled. "May I have black with ice?"

Daniel would like to say it was days like this that he chose to stay indoors, but he would always pick the comfort of his home anytime. However, the heat did make venturing outside uncomfortable. The vampire braved the sun for the Pride festivities happening; otherwise, he would have stayed home. The sun may have been beating down on him, but Daniel was in bright spirits. These moments of unbridled joy made the heavier moments that happened distant memories. He immediately perked up at the sight of Ignacio, making a beeline straight for the pixie.

"I understand. It's funny. I think puns are the best form of jokes." Which was naturally expected from someone who lived up to his old man title. Ignacio's excitement was endearing. The sight of it made Daniel's heart flutter. A hand reached up to rub his chest, thinking he could calm the rogue butterflies. "I think what you have out is wonderful. I think you should have invested in T-shirts. I would happily buy a Bee-yourself one. Maybe in a nice air-conditioned place, mead can be enjoyed, but stickers are just as great." He was already picking which ones he wanted. "They're lovely." The joke dawned on him. Daniel chuckled as he took the container from Ignacio. "Everything you have set up is very funny and clever. You have! I think you should start selling more punny things." He held the jar up. "At least, keep this guy around all year long. I think the gay bear would sell well."

"Hmm. Maybe I should sell them in the future, yes?" Ignacio cocked his head to one side. "I must place my own branding upon them. It is like...advertising, hm? But ach, the heat, it is not good for the mead. It affects the taste. It must stay where it is cool. But in the winter, you can mull it on the stove with spices, you understand? Very careful to not burn off the alcohol or degrade the honey. It is an art as everything else."

Laughing, then, Ignacio ducked his head. "Is that where the market is? In punny things? I must get some more." He regarded the bear bottle as if in contemplation. "Perhaps I can make a rainbow of honey. Alfalfa is light and mild. Buckwheat is dark and robust. And so on. Would you like to sit with me in the shade for a while? It is rather sunny. And I would enjoy the company. Are you enjoying the celebrations?"

"Let the betting begin! I've got ten dollars on Ken. That is ten dollars on Ken. Is anyone fixing to double it? That's another for Vivek." Lennon had been racking up the bids for the fights. Was it the most sanctioned thing to be doing during the Town's Sports Tournament? No, but it had been proving to be a rather lucrative pop-up business, and she had done a good job on keeping it on the down low thus far. "Hey, you wanna get in on this? Five-dollar entry and then whatever else you want to bet on your fighter of choice."

"Oh, really? Well, you should come by sometime, I can get you set up with one. They're completely free, so why not get one, hm?" Rivkah offered up a wide smile. There was little else she loved more than helping someone get a card for the library. They were lucky to have one in such a small town. "Oh, are you the one that owns the cute bee farm, then? I love that place." She listened to him describe it, the experience of regeneration having always been a strange thing to her. Not that it felt wrong or inconceivable, but the idea of having lived another life felt oddly karmic to her. "I perhaps think I might like you as yourself, too. I understand the sentiment. How strange it would be to have lived and not remember." She hummed to herself before moving on. "Yes, it does seem that way sometimes, doesn't it? But here's the secret," she leaned in, conspiratorial, "there will always be good people to counteract them. You just have to believe that."

She laughed a little. "Made up words, hmm? Like what?"

Rivkah shook his hand gratefully. "Oh, yes, I'm well acquainted with her. Hmm, wise words. I feel as if you, yourself, might be a poet."

He hummed. "You are kind. I imagine the humans who live in Lunar Cove, they know sometimes what it is to live and not remember. Do you know...I believed myself human for many years. Fae, after their first life, can be born among them. How strange. To belong to mortals and also not." He nodded. "I do. There is much good in the world, much beauty. We are custodians of it, and my vocation does not take that for granted. The bees left Lunar Cove for a time. They have returned. And you? You guard well the books? Knowledge?" Ignacio grinned. "Like kerfuffle. It means...a confusion, you understand. A large mess."

Ignacio sighed, a dreamy noise. "So some have told me, but I merely read the words of others. Or perhaps we are all poets. We have been for many, many generations, striving to make sense of what we are, of what we feel. This time of year, I think of 'Alysoun.' How we still yearn seven centuries later. Ich libbe in love longinge, for semlokest of alle thinge."

A feeling of pride pooled in Daniel's chest. It was warm, foreign almost. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this, but seeing Ignacio blush made Daniel want to keep that shade of red painted on his cheeks forever. "You could have fooled me. That's incredible. You are, I mean, from the bits I've heard, you sound quite elegant." It had been a while since Daniel had spoken Arabic. He was more than rusty. The thought alone was embarrassing. "أنتِ أجمل من قوس قزح بعد عاصفة رملية." (You are more beautiful than a rainbow after a sandstorm). A hopeful, albeit nervous, smile fell onto his lips as he looked back at him. "It's a complicated word. Everything we feel and do is tied to the human experience, even though we're no longer human or never were. The differences between us are minuscule yet keep us apart. I believe the spirit thrives on feelings. Reminds us that we're alive." He hummed. "I suppose I've never thought too hard about whether I was attractive or not. We're almost trained to care more if others find us so." Daniel had been told he was handsome all his life. It wasn't due to insecurity that he didn't see it. It was just something he never thought of in fear of coming off too vain if he leaned into it.

He stared at Ignacio for a moment, something dangerous cracking under the surface. Affectionate? No, that was silly. Admiration had to be the correct term. Amazement would even work. Daniel would never cease to be impressed by Ignacio's effortless ability to make everything he said sound like pure poetry. "With time, it's easy to forget that not all stories were once in books. That they were once lived and told by us rather than people who haven't lived these experiences but are intrigued by them." He tilted his head in thought. "It may be a cop-out, but I do actually like Dracula. Carmilla would be a close second. Modern vampire stories feel more...embellished." If anything, Daniel stayed away from most Vampire media. His own lived experiences were enough. "No, I don't think you should be," Daniel replied easily. "There's nothing wrong with being dull. Sometimes we need the slower moments in life. To sit in the stillness and enjoy the world around us. Jean-Claude is a nice name for a cat. I also have a cat. His name is Newt. Maybe one day the two of them can meet. I think they are."

Daniel nodded. "I have. They're stunning. Huh, I guess I didn't know that much about the fae until now." He knew a bit more about sirens thanks to Sienna, but the rest of the fae species felt like a mystery to him. "I understand." He replied, his own eyes looking at their hands and swinging them a little. "I trust you. You do. I would never have guessed that you were. What's making you a small bit nervous right now?"

"It's a newer development. You did, but that's okay. I do like it, yeah. I saw Star Wars in theaters in the 70's and have enjoyed the series ever since. Oh, thank you. I would be happy to show it to you." Daniel was amazed that his face hadn't melted off from how hot his cheeks felt. "Yes, you are. It's charming that you find that surprising. Yeah ... we will. I would like to see you more often. I'm glad I can be."

"Oh, yes, I'd be happy to show you. I haven't exactly had much free time since moving back, but I kept a few pieces. Of course, I will. I'd be happy to. It might not taste the same as it once did. I still would love to taste it and hear what your thought process behind pairings is." His brows scrunched in thought as he recalled his very basic knowledge of the French language. "Chat means cat, correct? First book having cat in the title ... hm. I wouldn't say that's light reading for a child, no. I do. This won't be your last life, I'm sure. Do you remember every life you've had before? I would consider myself an old soul as well. Literally in the sense I've been around for over one hundred years." His eyes softened. Life before Lunar Cove was a bittersweet memory. A dream that haunted him every now and then. "I was raised in London. I had two younger siblings, a sister and a brother. My father was a coal miner. Life was simple. We didn't have much, but we had each other. I cherished my siblings more than anything. It's why I chose Riley as a surname this time around, for my sister. I've tried to honor each family member any time I've had to change my name. In the 60s, I moved to Manchester. It was there ... I turned. I had a wife. I lost her. After that, I drifted from place to place. Never staying too long so people wouldn't notice I never aged."

It wasn't often that Daniel shared his past with those who were not there to live it with him. He feared that the melancholy he so often drowned in would cause others to sink. Telling Ignacio, even the small bits he had, didn't make him feel like the undertow of nostalgia was trying to take him under. The sadness he clung to was met with hope. He was floating freely. The sensation was new but not unwelcome. The vampire nodded, hanging onto every word Ignacio said. "Hm, that's a good one. That seems to be the beauty of life. Even in the darkest of nights or the harshest winters, the sun always comes back. We get to try again. We are, as you said, resilient."

"I believed I was human for many years. It is not so different. People often fear what they do not understand. So it is with the bees, yes? They do not wish to sting," Ignacio continued softly, contemplatively. "You have rather noble features, Daniel. The sort the authors imagined when writing of knights and heroes. Fit for tapestries. But it is good to not think on it, oui. Warmth of spirit and...eh, the skill to shine a light outward is more important. You have no troubles there either, I promise. I am interested in that light." These words came earnestly, although colored with teasing, flirting mischief he was making no effort to conceal.

"'Our sacred demon of ungovernableness. Child, be strange. Dark, true, impure and dissonant. Cherish our flame. Our dawn shall come.’" Ignacio sighed distantly, rolling his shoulders, evidently quoting something or other. "The stories we tell are us. They become our reality. I shudder when they are turned against us. Or used to...homogenize us, you understand? Rob us of all that makes us complete individuals. People now ask computers to create books." He extended a hand out at the shelves and broke into a laugh. "Dracula and Carmilla. The frightening wilds. Come to society to turn it on its head. I use the phrase correctly?" He made a flipping motion with his hands.

"Oui. I agree. Stillness awakens truth. But, ah! He is Jean-Claude with claws. It is funny, yes? Newt. Is he as fiery as his name? I would like for them to become friends." Ignacio hummed. "Merci. I am a small nervous because I would like for you to like me, Daniel. And I am....aware that I can be somewhat intense. So others have told me. I speak of knights and wilderness and King Penda. Some find that unwelcome. It does not stop me from doing it. I am what I am." He shrugged his shoulders but spoke plainly and openly.

"Good. It is a date." He brought up a hand to gently pat Daniel's cheek, if only to see just how much redder he could make it. It was his turn to blush, however, and craning his neck, Ignacio gave a bit of a roll of his eyes, ducking his head. "I must be coming off like a teenager. Mon Dieu. Hmm. Tell me of Star Wars! Why do you like it?"

"Bon! Ah! We have much time, Daniel. We are both...somewhat immortal, yes?" Ignacio teased. "You may bring blood if you wish. I am not squeamish. Come when you like. The invitation is open. Ach! Is that rude? I am sorry. I am...you are welcome. That is all I mean." And he was vaguely aware that vampires did require extra, more literal steps. With that, though, Ignacio finally parted hands to clap his own together. "Oui. The Cat in the Hat." He laughed heartily.

"Perhaps it will be. Perhaps I will live it so fully and so completely, I will simply move on. That is the goal, yes? But no. I have glimpses. Sensations. In moments or dreams. Actions or smells. Incense. Cold stone. The bees. I think I have tended to them many times before. A previous version of myself...we attended the same school in Paris. He in the 19th century." He smiled softly. "Perhaps we knew each other some way when I was older, hm?" This came like a joke. "I believe Ignacio is nicer than Henri was."

Listening intently, then, he studied Daniel's features, taking each word. "I am sorry, Daniel. That must have been very difficult. To lose one you love. Do you wish to share about her?" He nodded gently. "It is difficult, to leave one's home. I know this well. I am glad we have found a form of one here." He trailed off, considering.

"A vampire who longs for the sun. What an intriguing man you are, Capitaine. No less intriguing than a pastoral farmer who longs for untended woods." He patted his own chest. "But I am keeping you now with poetic foolishness. Let me to your work. You will telephone me, yes? To visit, and to watch the small Yoda?"

Nyra listened quietly, allowing Ignacio to finish without interruption. The waves filled the brief silence that followed, rolling in and retreating along the shore. "I know," she said at last. There was no frustration in her voice, only a quiet understanding. "You do not need to explain yourself further. I may not agree with every conclusion you reach, which I hope you don't take to heart, it's a civic duty and responsibility of mine, but I would never ask you to abandon your conscience in order to satisfy me or anyone. We all have to live with our choices. That much, I understand." A smile touched her lips. "I do know you to be capable. I have seen you fight," she said. "It will not be any time soon that I will forget what we had to face at the music festival. Yes, I do hope for that day." The conversation felt settled then, Nyra didn't want to pull at a thread that hadn't unravelled and speak on events that had added weight to her thoughts. "Thank you. Not foolish is extremely appreciated. Take care of yourself," she added after a moment. "That is all I ask."

"No group agrees all the time. That is okay. But we all move toward the same objective, yes?" He hummed softly. "And yet, I am a pacifist. It is shame that we must know how for more than sport. The day shall come. For now, we defend our own." He put a hand on his heart. "I promise. Truthfully. I know no other kind."

END?

"It is, yes." Rivkah said this as a simple fact, like that the sun is yellow and the sky is blue. "I know him from here. I introduced myself rather quickly. I like to make it my business to know the local bookstore owners, considering I run the libraries in town." This, too, was stated as a fact, objectively, not subjective. She smiled over at the man, giving a tip of her head. "I understand that very well. How I envy the fae that lived through the years that way." She nodded along in agreement. "All very good choices. I can't say I enjoy those, either. It fees much more like poetry simply made to sell and make money, instead of the true art form. What other languages do you speak, then? I might have some further recommendations."

Rivkah smiled, genuinely. "As you should be. She's a good one to be acquainted with. One of my favorite, really." She hummed, high in the back of her throat. "De rien," she nodded, before holding her hand out. "I'm Rivkah, by the way. Whom do I have the pleasure of discussing poetry with?"

For a moment, Ignacio flipped the poetry book around in his hands before tucking it under his arm to take hers. "Ignacio Mendoza. Enchanté. Do you know Sara Teasdale? She is one of my very favorite. To speak of truth, so powerfully, so simply. That is as all things should be."

"They were right, the cat distribution center is real!" A disturbance had come from the bushes while on her walk. Instead of making the reasonable decision and keep walking, Talia had decided to investigate the rustling. Worst-case scenario, it was a raccoon, and she had to go get a rabies shot. However, it turned out to be the best case possible because in the bush, it was a small kitten. She held the tiny creature to the person walking with her, eyes wide and filled with awe. "I've been chosen. I'm now a mother. I love them so much." Her voice was going up a few octaves as she talked to the kitten. "Unless you want to be co-parents," she added quickly, though she didn't really want to be. Talia was just being nice. "They need a name and probably a bath. Just to be safe."

"I believe you would still be quite poetic. Being well-read is just a plus in all of this. There's an ... elegance with how you string words together. It's beautiful." His gaze softened at Ignacio's words. He liked how insightful the Fae was. Daniel felt like he had to apologize for everything. He carried guilt that wasn't his to bear. "For my own embarrassment? When you put it like that ... I guess there isn't anything wrong with feeling flustered or just feeling in general. So many of us get in our heads or worry about showing too much of ourselves that we forget we're human. We're alive, we're supposed to feel everything and anything. You find my blushing charming?"

Daniel grinned easily. Any worries that he had rolled off his back like water. Which was an odd state to be in, given Daniel naturally settled into a place of anxiety. He was always waiting for the metaphorical shoe, but it hadn't come this time. "Okay, I'm glad. It's the last thing I would want to do. Humans have been writing about us for centuries, haven't they?" He looked to where the Shakespeare books were put away, then back at Ignacio. "But sometimes, I would assume when the mood strikes? Being a giant is very uncomfortable. Not a lot of space to move. I'm happy to be normal-sized again. You said you can only tell the truth. What other enhancements do you have?" Daniel laughed. "Oh, yes, he's a tiny green person. His name is actually Grogu; they just call him Baby Yoda because, well, he looks like the baby version of Yoda. It's, uh, it's a Star Wars thing. If you'd like, we can watch the show he's from." He took a breath, realizing he was rambling now. "If you don't mind nerdy endeavors, that is."

The blush on his cheeks only deepened. A bright cherry shade stained his skin, but Daniel refused to apologize for it this time. Instead, he kept his bright smile and nodded, his face burning. "I think I should also extend a thank you to him. I never imagined taking a chance on a lock and key event could lead me to someone so ... incredible. Well, I hope you like the color red. You'll be seeing it often."

"Oh yes, I do. When I was in the woods, I spent a lot of time tinkering. I'm a secret handyman when I'm not a bookstore owner. It would be my honor to visit. You painted such a vibrant picture when you spoke of your bees and greenhouse. I've wanted to see it ever since. Yes, we must make better days. Every day can be a better one if we try." For a moment, he considered dropping their hands. Daniel got inside his head, as he usually did, and began overthinking the situation. Instead of listening to his anxieties, he listened to his gut. His hand remained wrapped around Ignacio's even as they stood before the books. "Correct. Fascinating, what other books did he have? You know, I didn't know that. I might have to do some research now."

The vampire paused for a moment. "Well, it captures the quiet, haunting sorrow of emotional detachment. To me, it means that the weight of a relationship drifting apart often feels heavier and more painful than a sudden, dramatic end. It's more heartbreaking to watch something you love fade before your very eyes. The end is inevitable, you feel it, and all you can do is watch."

"Yes. We poor entities of the wilds, unbound by fastenings like morality or civility. Mon Dieu. Cursed to carry all the shortcomings that do not belong to us. How soon we all forget we ran those wilds together at one time." He hummed. "Do you have a favorite vampire tale? One that does not...eh, upset you?" This question came with genuine curiosity; the Fae dotted written history, of course, in many forms, although much felt exaggerated. Ignacio shrugged his shoulders at that, though, a smirk settling on his lips. "I am often much too busy to find mood for mischief. The bees do not idle. Should I?" This seemed to be teasing. "I am sometimes dull. I enjoy a glass of wine and a record after a long day. I enjoy sitting with my cat. He answers to Jean-Claude. I enjoy working with my hands. Are these things very...eh, what is the word? Riveting?"

Ignacio hummed, giving him a look up and down. "A good stature it is. But...ah! You have seen my wings. I can make illusions. I can learn skills by mimicry. I can become invisible. I can share my emotions with others. Some people find that unsettling, you understand? They will not even touch a pixie." He looked down at their clasped hands. "I promise I do not tamper, and I do not share without asking. For now, I will simply tell you. Right now, I am quite content. Somewhat...a small nervous perhaps. Do I hide it well?" He smiled.

"Ah, okay, okay. Yes. I do know Star Wars. I did not know there was a baby. But I do not have a television. I must have missed it, yes?" Ignacio laughed. "Do you like this show? I think you are man of taste. I would enjoy to see it." His eyes sparkled. "Oh...merci. Merci. I am incredible? Enchanté. So. You and I will be seeing one another often then? I would like that very much. You are...refreshingly sincere, Mon Capitaine."

These revelations seemed to fascinate Ignacio, and he perked up as Daniel shared them. "Yes. Yes. You had mentioned. You...eh, you craft, oui? Tinker. I would like to see. This weekend. Will you visit? I can show you the day's work, and...I know we do eat different foods, but if you have any taste for honey and fruit and cheese, I am good at pairing." He hummed, nudging Daniel gently with his shoulder. "Le Chat chapeauté. Non. I was too young to have read Doña Perfecta when I did. My soul is old. I've lived many lives. Literally, you understand? Such are the Fae. And you...? What was life before Lunar Cove?"

Ignacio listened in attentive silence. "T.S. Elliot. 'This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.' Hmm. I can understand, oui. But...I do not weep for winter. Every season has its time. The sun sets. It does rise again. We are resilient."

"Oh, you know Daniel, then?" Rivkah tutted, glancing over at the younger gentleman. Her eyes dropped to the tome he held up and she preened a little. "I enjoy all types of poetry, yes. Are you looking for a specific kind? Epics, perhaps? Sonnets, haikus? Classical? Modern? Antiquity?" She reached out to tap the cover of the book he held up, giving what could be interpreted as a knowing smirk. "Romantic modernism, perhaps?" A smile curls further onto her lips. "Poetry is one of the oldest forms of prose. It's certainly one of my favorite."

Rivkah pondered on it for a moment, before ushering for the man to follow her. She led him over to the poetry section, skimmed a few titles quickly, before plucking one from the shelf. It was Felicity by Mary Oliver, an all time favorite of hers. "I think you might like this one."

Following along behind her, though, Ignacio smiled. "Mary Oliver and I are well-acquainted. 'You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.' Apropos for life in Lunar Cove. I shall explore Felicity to see what it reveals. Merci."

OPTION A location: Yellow Submarine

On breaks from work, Zuri loved to walk around the aquarium, visiting her favorite exhibits and sea creatures. A cuttlefish, nearly fully blended with the sand and rocks around it, lived in the massive tank before her, and was one of her favorites to visit. To the other person standing beside her, she offered, “Did you know cuttlefish are actually colorblind? It's kinda crazy, because they can exactly color match their surroundings to blend in. Kinda like what people think chameleons do, but cooler.”

OPTION B location: Happy Harvest Farmer's Market

Stevie enjoyed farmer's markets, and needed to stock up on produce and other essentials before heading picking up Rhiannon up from school. The school year was winding down and with summer about to start, Stevie was anxious to find a more permanent living situation for her and her daughter that didn't end in Motel. With those thoughts momentarily on the backburner, she passed a stand specifically for different flavored honeys. “Huh. Eucalyptus honey... Interesting, but not sure how my eleven year old will feel about that one.”

"Eucalyptus honey is...eh, it is cooling, you understand? Menthol. Almost medicinal. It is a robust, woody flavor, only mildly sweet. Suitable for teas, dark meats, and grilled fruit. Or strong cheeses that it would not overpower." Ignacio gave a hum, looking up from his table to offer a smile. After making a note on his clipboard, he paused and extended a hand over his wares. "Citrus honey is more palatable to children, I often find. Bright and zesty. Suitable for yogurt, pastries, or pancakes. What do you wish to use it for?"

There was a table, close to the counter and in eye sight of the front door that Renzō brought Ignacio's order, alongside his own, to. "Mary Oliver?" He didn't know who she was, but what she said felt relatable. Times had hardly been simple, yet this very moment proved times could still be. "More bees is good for everyone, right?" He wasn't sure what vampire Ignacio was talking about but nodded anyway. "Do you always see the positive?" It felt like a marvel. That someone could see good in the face of being intentionally spited.

Settling down at the table, then, he gave a short nod. "She was a poet. She won the Pulitzer Prize. I enjoy American poets. I think because they borrow from all the many traditions. And it was...it was good for me to learn complex English, yes?" He smiled. "Oui. More bees, more flowers, more bugs, more mice, more birds, and so on." He met the other's eye. "Not always. I try. I am prone to melancholy, but...one cannot live in anger. Sadness, regret...valid emotions. But we must use them to create the nicer ones we prefer. For now, I am happy to be here with you."

When he admitted he would not write her name down, Nyra was silent for a moment, though there was no frustration in her face, just one of acceptance since she really couldn't force him. "I do not require dishonesty from you," she said after a beat. "Nor blind loyalty. But you must stop wishing suffering onto yourself in place of others. That is not kindness. Sure, sacrifice is seen as a noble thing but for our kind self-preservation is a vital thing. Many thing would see to our downfall, do not include your own name to it. You belong to this Court as much as anyone else within it. Protecting you and others is not some unfortunate consequence of leadership, Ignacio. It is the reason for it."

Ignacio cocked is head to one side. "It would be impossible to require. I am not capable of it," he replied softly. "Nor is my loyalty blind. I place it well. I wish for no one to suffer. I am certain you wish the same. But trust me. I will fight. I have done so many times. Until the day we no longer must. Which I believe will come." He nodded. "I will do nothing foolish. But I ask only for grace in that I am the one who must live with myself for all eternity, no matter which form I take. Please allow me to respect that man's actions."

Option A where: Lunar Cove Public Library

"It's the alphabet, Bartholomew," Rivkah said with an exasperated sigh. "Not rocket science." She plucked the book he'd unceremoniously shoved onto the shelf, placing Fitzgerald, F. Scott between von Volkman, Richard and Vonnegut, Kurt. If she had her way, they wouldn't be in the same section, but the public library was organized differently to her own personal library, and even the one at the university. She pursed her lips. "I know you know your alphabet." The boy, sheepish, looked up at her and shrugged. He probably wanted to be here much less so than she wanted him here, sorting her shelves incorrectly, but the boy had was here for community service, so it wasn't as if she could send him away.

"Sorry about that, Misses R," Bartholomew very thoughtfully and melodramatically said. Rivkah just barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

"It's Miss," she corrected with a hiss, "and no you're not. Don't lie to me." She leaned down close. "I see right through you, Barry. Now put the books away properly or I'll make you redo the entire section."

She wasn't a cold person, per say, but she knew the type of kid Bartholomew was-- she'd been just like him, at one point-- and she knew a gentle hand was only something the troubled teen would take advantage of. So, tough love it was.

The sharp, shrill ding! of the front desk bell pulled her away from her post, towering over the teen slumped on the floor. Unfurling her arms, she headed towards the front. "Hello," she greeted, putting back on her easy, relaxed smile, "how can I help you today?"

---

Option B

where: New Leaf Bookstore

As Rivkah dragged her fingers along the spines of the books on the shelf, she couldn't help but pluck out each one out of place and put them back in where they belonged, if it was close by. Perhaps she just couldn't help it. Every now and then, she'd pull one out and add it to the growing stack in her own arms-- some new titles, some old, some she already owned twice over. It didn't really matter to her what genre or author or section, they all went in the pile if they caught her eye. She had at least four walls filled top to bottom with shelves of books, and while some might call it hoarding, she liked to think of it as an abundance. A collection, though she kept the actual rare and unique tomes in a separate room, filled with only two walls of shelves.

Her finger paused on an old, threadbare spine and tapped against it before tugging it out. Next to her, she noticed someone perusing the shelves as well, but when she noticed that they had not pulled out a single book yet, she leaned over and whispered (because bookstores were library adjacent, of course), "Need any recommendations? Or are we just window shopping today?"

"Hm? Oh. Merci. I was...waiting for Daniel. I needed to discuss this with him." Ignacio, who seemed to have been startled out of a bit of a daze, staring at the shelf and mulling over many things, offered a smile. He held up a book of poetry by Odysseas Elytis, a tome with which he had left the last time he was in the bookshop. "Do you enjoy poetry? I read it very much. Since the dawn of time, we have all pined for the same, do you find? Verse is unbound by the trappings of prose, but I enjoy prose as well." This observation came matter-of-factly, but still, for him, poetry resonated in a primal way beyond space and place.

He hummed, rolling his shoulders, and craning his head from side to side as if to take in every book which lined the shelves. "What do you recommend for springtime? For new beginnings. For renewal? We as humans, or adjacent, oui...we can afford to use our hours on pastoral folly. Bees cannot. Hard work does not end for prettier weather. Hmm." He trailed off, seemingly engaged in some sort of philosophical banter with himself.