all things are ready, if our minds be so, Keira/Al

[Allistair Taliesin]

At least it's a decent day, he thought miserably. As the heat of summer had faded away into fall, so had his better moods. He didn't like the chill that was settling into the ground, it made him surly and lazy. He was from Canada, and the winters there were much worse, but still. Cold of any kind, he generally disliked. It hadn't been so bad back home, because he would come home every day to a crackling fire, and homey meals like shepherd's pie or home made lasagna. That was one thing he could never be upset with his father for- he never forgot a meal. He pedaled lethargically, and though his blue blood didn't feel the chill of the brisk autumn wind that made the red-blood's teeth chatter, he still didn't like it. Thankfully, it wasn't full on winter yet, though the prospect of worse cold didn't cheer him at all.

Eventually, after passing all the ridiculously expensive botiques and shops, he hopped off his bike and stuck it in the metal contraption that had been made to hold people's bicycles. He shook his head as he looked over his shoulder, rubbing his hands together while surveying the older women in their ugly fur coats that likely cost them more than his house did. He would never understand why people were so concerned with price, with paying more for things they didn't need to. He could buy a winter coat from some designer store for quadruple what it was worth, and he could just as easily get an equally warm one from a discount store. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and turned his ipod down, heading into the considerably more quaint looking bookstore that he'd been haunting the last few days. He usually had nothing to do, and had only recently discovered the cozy little book shop, which he'd discovered was a nice place to spend large amounts of time. He spent a good half an hour wandering the aisles, his eyes tracing quickly over the titles in the sci-fi section, then the fantasy, and so on. He occasionally pulled a book from the shelf to read the inside flap, and then would place it back on the shelf, not in the mood to the adventure or thrilling story it promised him. When he was halfway through the 'new age' section, however, a title caught his eye.
"The Indigo Children," it was called. He plucked it from the shelf and turned the paperback over, reading. He snorted, rolling his eyes. New Age, indeed.
He glanced around to make sure he wasn't in anyone's way, and proceeded to slide down and settle himself on the floor, his back against the shelf. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair as he thumbed open the book.
This ought to be interesting... he thought, scanning the first few pages.
"children who are alleged to possess special traits or abilities," he muttered to himself as he read, chuckling. Obviously this was written by a blue blood. It had to have been. He chuckled again, and let himself become absorbed by the words on the pages infront of him, feeling his mind drift off to that somewhere else place it went when he read.

[Keira Darcy]

Keira opened the door to the bookstore and stepped inside, breathing in the scent of new books: ink, paper, glue. Perfect. She made her way towards the adult fiction books, taking a glance at the displays as she walked. She stopped here and there, picking up a book and briefly examining it, then returning it to the shelves. Today, she had all the time in the world. She'd already given Peace a run through Central Park, then taken the time to play with her puppy so she would be good and tired. That dog had more energy than she did, so to get it to be tired was an unusual occurance. When she'd left, the dog had been curled up in a ball asleep on the doggy bed. Nobody to see, nowhere to be...it was an unusual occurence. Well, she did have to be home in a few hours to let Peace out, but other than that...

The sign over a section caught her eyes. "Self-Help", it read. She bit her lip and glanced around hesitantly. She wasn't a drug addict or anything of the sort, but she'd been missing a boy quite badly. Not just any boy, but her Addison, who had just left, no word, no indication. She had worried at first, then realized that he must not want to be here. And then the depression, which had lasted a little over a week and consisted of a very intoxicated Keira and a few choice books. After that, she'd gotten the golden retriever puppy, which she'd aptly named Peace in the hope that it would help her find some. Yeah, she could use some help, although she really didn't want to admit it.

She steeled herself and walked into the aisle that contained the books, perusing their titles cautiously as though she was afraid they'd bite her. When she picked up one and read the cover, she became disgusted with herself. Getting over someone wasn't exactly something a book could help her with. Deep down, she'd known that, but part of her had wanted to believe it was possible. She put it back on the shelf and high-tailed it out of there to the teen section. She needed to escape this, this feeling of hopelessness, that she'd always feel this horrible. She was alive - although she wasn't really inclined to think that was such a good thing right now. Being dead would definitely hurt less, but to die an untimely death, you had to have some pain.

Keira forced herself to browse through the titles. Something caught her eyes. Carpe Corpus, by Rachel Caine. How had she missed this? She opened the front cover on the small paperback, looking at the copyright date. June 2009? Epic fail. She kept the book in her hand, picking up another one, titled Shiver, glanced at the description on the cover, and added it to what seemed like it would become a stack. She also grabbed Girl Stays in the Picture by someone with a last name of de la Cruz, just on a whim. She told herself it was all she needed right now.

She cracked the binding on Carpe Corpus and started in, trying not to feel bad. She'd pay for it in a few minutes, after all. Escaping to the troubles of the town of Morganville, Texas was a relief for her. She read as she walked towards the front fo the store, then tripped over something, and even more embarassingly, fell into someone's lap. "Oh, God," she said, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention, and I--well." She tried to collect herself and get free from their tangle. He most certainly did not look happy, but then again, who would?

[Allistair Taliesin]

His eyes scanned the pages quickly and efficiently, and he snorted as he read about "indigo auras" and "life colors."It was an interesting concept, but he was only reading it mostly because of the "indigo" part-- being a blue blood himself, he thought it was quite ironic. Human beings could be so blissfully unaware. Sometimes though, as he'd observed a few other times in his past lives, they could be startlingly aware. Without being aware that they were aware, however. This book, its words, were a prime example of such unaware-awareness. People were so paradoxical. He flipped through the pages, wrinkling his nose when he found something he disagreed with or decided the paragraph he'd just read was ridiculous. He could definiteley be reading something better, more educating, more exciting. But, he figured, he had all day, and he didn't mind wasting some time on this book. It was interesting in its own way, after all.

Perhaps, he thought, while he continued lazily flipping through his book, he would move onto some poetry after this. He could grab himself a latte, even though he didn't really like them, just for the sake of drinking something warm. He could go curl up in one of those overstuffed chairs they had for people to sit and read, and he could just enjoy the words and the structures and listen to his ipod. Absently, he reached into his pocket to stroke the little metal contraption. It was sad, really, but the thing was pretty much his best friend. He continued reading, his mind wandering elsewhere while it also took in the words infront of him, storing them in his brain. He wondered vaguely if this was a memory that he'd be able to recall in his next life. He also wondered, what with the rising croatan threat, if he would even have a next life. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, the possiblity of not coming back. It had been routine for so long now, so many years, so many lifetimes, that it would be too strange to not repeat the pattern. He shook the thought off, not wanting to get into that headpsace today. He wanted to just enjoy himself, do the things he loved, and not worry about anything. He was in the middle of turning his thoughts in a different direction, when out of the sky it seemed, dropped a rather attractive brunette. Right into his lap. It was an uncomfortable experience, as she connected quite solidly with his knees, and thumped into his chest as a result. After a moment of stunned and confused silence, while the two of them attempted to work out exactly what had just happened, her cheeks flushed and she began appologizing profuseley.
"Oh god!" she exclaimed, "I'm so sorry!" she told him, making an excuse about not paying attention. He scooted sideways, grinning. She'd had her nose buried in a book, and had tripped right over him.
"It's alright," he assured her, laughing. "its my fault for sitting in the middle of the aisle," he confessed, standing up. He glanced at the book he'd been reading, which was now full of bent pages. He tucked it under his arm, and offered the klutsy female his hand, intending to help her up. He could feel himself blushing a little-- this had been the closest he'd come to the opposite sex, as far as physical contact. In this lifetime, as far as he was aware, anyway. He chuckled at the thought, blushing a little more. She was very pretty, with warm eyes and dark chestnut hair. She was very soft, he noted, hoping she wasn't going to have bruises from landing on his knees.

[Keira Darcy]

Keira stared at the guy she'd just slammed in to. She didn't want to agree with his statement that it was his fault, but neither did she want to disagree and take the blame. "How about it was both of our faults?" She offered, looking at him. She picked up her books, which had scattered as she'd fallen, then took the hand he held out. She tried not to pull too hard, but was afraid that she did as she clambered unsteadily to her feet. On the bright side, her feet were clad in an all too sensible pair of blue Nikes, and it helped. Where had her balance gone?

She released his hand after a few second, perhaps a moment too long. It had been a while since any guys had even looked at her twice. Hopefully, that was the only reason that she was reacting this strongly to him, versus a desperate need to get...someone else...out of her head, of her heart. She felt uncomfortable, and she glanced at the book he was holding. "Oh. Your book," she murmured it, seeing the bent pages and wincing. She hated mistreating books, even by a stupid mishap. "I'd like to buy that for you...Since I'm the one who killed it and all," she told him, blushing a little.

Keira checked her clothes. It was a reflex, a bad habit she'd gotten into. Her dark jeans still looked okay, if a little bit rumpled from her fall. She straightened the hem of her light pink shirt against the denim, trying to put herself back together. Her hand went instinctively to the key necklace that had hung around her neck for so many months. When she found it wasn't there, she dropped her hand, feeling silly. She knew that it was safely in her jewelry box in the apartment, but it didn't make it any less weird for her not to be wearing it.

She stood there, ducking her head and staring at her shoes a little bit. Keira discreetly took a gander at the person standing opposite her, trying not to show that she was, for lack of a better word, checking him out. She leaned against one of the ladders that surrounded the store on railings and finally looked him in the eyes, "I'm Keira. I should've introduced myself before I fell all over you, but apparently fate or gravity had different plans for us," she joked.

[Allistair Taliesin]

After having succesfully helped the warm, red-blooded girl up off the carpet of the little aisle, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, a reflex of years of habit. His right hand curled around his ipod, which he flicked off as a courtesy to the girl that had literally fallen into his lap. He noticed her furtively checking him out, and smiled wanly while he let her think he hadn't notice. He watched her adjust herself, tugging her shirt and smoothing her jeans, which didn't look like they neeed smoothing-- to him anyway. Girls always seemed to have a much better eye for such things. He did notice the look that crossed her face, when she reached up to her neck as if checking that something precious was still there, and he saw the look in her eyes when it was as if she realized that there wasn't anything there, and then remembered the reason for it. He cocked his head, curious.
She told him that she would like to pay for his book, as she'd squashed it and rightly should pay for it. But, he wasn't that interested in the book--he'd just been reading it for the sake of reading it, and reached out to take it from her.
"Don't worry about it," he added as he smoothed the pages and the cover back into relative flatness. Someone would find it, and get a discount for its state of disrepair. He carefully slipped the book back into the shelf behind him, and turned back to the girl, who had introduced herself as Keira.
"I'm Allistair, it's nice to make your aquaintance." He said rather formally, owing to the fact that his was in one of his weird moods. One of his, I am an ancient being and have been around for ages and am feeling rather tired of it, moods.
"Fate," he snickered. He wasn't really sure exactly what he thought about fate. Actually, he wasn't really sure what he thought about a lot of things.
"Oh, don't worry about it." He told her, trying to dismiss the slighty tingle of akwardness that hung between them. "I forgive you." he added, chuckling.
"I am going to go get myself a coffee from that overpriced and overpopular coffee shop, would you like one?" he offered, not wanting to be rude, and genuinely actually liking the girl. She was nice, and from what had come out of her mouth so far, she seemed intelligent and witty, and he tended to enjoy intelligent and witty people. She was also very warm, and very human. And he hadn't made really any human friends yet. He found most bluebloods to be annoying and haughty, so he didn't mind hanging out with red bloods. Or some of them, anyway.
He turned, making his way to the coffee counter, not checking to see if she followed. He'd buy her a latte to make sure she knew she didn't have to worry about landing in his lap, and he would enjoy his afternoon at the book store.

[Keira Darcy]

Keira gave him - Allistair - a half-smile. He spoke as though he'd wandered through a time portal and out of the mid-1800's. Acquaintance was an underused word, except for New Year's Eve when everyone sang that song. What was it? It would come to her in a minute or two, but until then…"Let me guess, you don't believe in fate." Once upon a time, she hadn't put much stock in it either, but things had changed. Clearly, she had no desire to have her love leave her without a word, had no desire to be unable to find him. What else could have done it besides fate, or God, or some sort of unwanted divine intervention.

He looked somewhat handsome, but he wasn't really her type. He was very much a Nice Young Man, or at least he appeared to be. It wasn't exactly that she had anything against the Nice Young Men of the world, but she liked guys who were okay with a little trouble. She was trouble, lately, getting drunk, cops bringing her to her father at two in the morning because of her intoxicated, underage state. They'd let her off with a warning, but mostly because she was quite sure one of them had been one of the cops investigating Addison's disappearance. Somehow, the nice female cop had seemed to kind of understand the pressure she was under, the heartbreak she was experiencing. She'd also be willing to bet her father had donated some money to her not getting fined.

The Nice Young Man type were good 'let's be friends' candidates. They were harmless, wouldn't hurt you types. But that was what she liked…and what she'd gotten last time. She hadn't even realised that he'd spoken until he'd walked off. Coffee, her ears told her mind. It looked as if he was heading towards the overpriced coffee counter. She bit her lip, hesitating as she was torn between the books and following him. Keira wanted more books than just three, but the chance to talk to some one who wouldn't look at her…She hated that look of pity that all her friends had been giving her lately, her parents as well.

She followed him; the chance to talk to someone who wouldn't look at her with that hidden pity stare in their eyes was too alluring. She took the books and headed after him, wondering where this would lead. So call her interested. Would it really be so wrong if he was a nice guy and they became friends? More than friends? Keira had a slight fear of moving on, that they'd have a moment like in the movie Castaway. She'd move on, and he'd come back, and he'd be heartbroken. She'd feel horrible. But what did he expect from her? To stay and live her life waiting?

Keira stood next to Allistair, waiting in line for the barista behind the counter to get to them. "So…Favourite coffee or coffee drink? You're not an espresso drinker, right?" She kind of had developed this thing that let her tell people's personalities based off their favourite coffee drink. Espresso people were self-centered, trendy, worldly. Black coffee drinkers were plain Joe's (pun intended) or businesspeople that drank it that way to look impressive. She couldn't wait to hear what he said.

[Allistair Taliesin]

Allistair cocked an eyebrow at her, and nodded in response to her statement.
"Yeah, I'm not much of a fan of espresso. I'm more of a tea guy, if I'm being honest." He told her, wrestling his wallet from his pack pocket. He neatly tugged a crisp twenty from it, and turned to the barista.
"Could I get a green tea with honey, please?" He asked, smiling kindly. The barista seemed to falter, and he chuckled. Usually he wasn't this charming. Or maybe he was and he just didn't notice. He could be exceptionally unobservant when he wanted to. He turned back to Keira, who stood beside him. He could still feel a little akwardness from her, and smiled at her.
"Really, don't worry about the book. What would you like to drink?" he asked her, curious. He hoped she wasn't the espresso type either. Espresso tended to leave people far too keyed up, and gave them bitter bad breath, which he really didn't enjoy.

He wondered vaguely at what the shadow was in Keira's eyes. He could clearly see something hiding there, some kind of hurt, but she hid it fairly well. He found that hse was rather difficult to read. She was pretty, that was for sure, with chestnut warm brown hair and cozy eyes, despite the looming shadow in them. She had an appealing figure, he noted peripherally. She looked like a nice girl, perhaps even a goody-two-shoes type, but he thought he sensed something quite the opposite. Like maybe she'd been a nice girl, but had somehow become Jaded. He often wondered at that--How human beings could become so jaded, even though their life spans were like the flash of a camera compaired to his own digustingly lengthy existance. He figured they were lucky in that, though, never having to relive life after life, the mistakes they'd made, the wrongs they'd done, moments they would never have back and so on.
Immortality was something that definitely had the potential to turn a person's heart rock hard. He sighed, pushing the thoughts from his mind. He'd come here for some peace and quiet, not to have an internal debate with himself. He waited for Keira to make her decision, as the second barista placed his paper cup (made of recycleable material, he noted) on the little side stand, calling out that it was a green tea with honey even though he was standing right there. He sidled over and picked the cup up, popping a little white lid on top of it. The warmth from the tea spread through his hands, and he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying it. He took a tentative sip, and though it was too hot, they had at least put the right amount of honey in.