All-Night Bookstore

Verna
In Winter, the nights last a long time. So far, Verna hasn't let herself freeze. She keeps the heat on in her car, and keeps up the ruse of having an internal body temperature by wearing her heavy, woolen, heather grey peacoat wherever she goes.

She has an anniversary coming up. Almost made it a year. Perhaps that's some comfort, one mark on the wall? And she hasn't caused any calamity, any mess, other than the one that killed her. The further she gets without being dragged off in the night with her sire, the better right? Surely.

This place shows up through asking the internet about it, not through talking with friends or her sire. An all-night bookstore. What better place to spend some time? To lose herself for a little while in a book of her own choosing. That would be so nice.

Tam
The only other place in the city where a body can access books at three o'clock in the morning belongs to Denver University and though it isn't strictly necessary on occasion the security guards will trawl the place looking for people who aren't supposed to be there.

This place hasn't been open very long. One moment the doors were boarded up and no signs graced the front. It's grand opening has not happened yet but that doesn't mean the lights aren't on and the door is locked. They are and it isn't.

From the street Verna can see no customers inside. One silhouette is inside near the back. Something almost inviting about it. Almost but for the fact that she knows what lurks in the shadows of this city and knows no place is ever truly safe.

Verna
Denver University hasn't been open to Verna since she was last alive. That is one part of town she can never return to. Political concerns and all that. Those concerns almost blot out the fact that someone might recognize her and wonder where she's been.

This place, though. Well, it looks open. Doesn't it? There are books? A test of the door swings it open, and she steps in. A normal human woman wouldn't spend ages out in the cold staring at a shop when it might be warm inside. So she doesn't do that.

"Hello? Are you open yet?"

Tam
The bookstore is not as cluttered or well-lit as it will be when it's fully functional. Part of the floorspace is occluded by plastic dropcloth through which the beginnings of a café appear as dim shapes and sawdust.

As for the owner (question mark) he does not have the appearance of one who would own a bookstore but it's hard to tell with some folks. He's tall and dressed in layers of winter clothing that only add to his bulk. A ski cap pulled over long blond hair. Somewhere in his thirties his features stripped of their youthfulness though in the flash of a moment that they regard each other from across the room she can see some species of adventure not yet gone extinct in his eyes.

Are you open yet?

When he answers it's with a faint English accent. As if he's been in this country a long time but slow to shed the vestiges of his homeland.

"We can be," he says and sets down the project he had had in hand to face her more fully. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Verna
Everything seems extinct in Verna's eyes. They're dark, forlorn things, and yet she pastes a smile on over it all when he says that the store can be open.

She shrugs underneath layers of clothing, eyes the shelves. "Fiction? I guess?" Escapism. "I've always been fond of Tolkein." Nerd.

At three in the morning, a woman arrives in the shop before it's properly opened. Wants a fantasy of some kind to focus on instead of her life. Stranger things have happened, yes. Is it too weird, though? Verna starts re-thinking the idea of coming here, but it's a little late for that.

Tam
"Ah, Tolkien. Do you know, when it was first published, everyone in the world proclaimed The Hobbit the best children's story of the century?"

It doesn't sound as if he's going to refute the assertion. That's the start and end of that thought. He allows himself to become distracted by setting off into the half-filled stacks. The hems of his coat flapping behind him as he does so with an air of purpose.

"I may have a couple copies floating around here somewhere, unless you're looking for a different title?"

Verna
"Maybe... something different? I read The Hobbit when I was little, you know. And then, later, The Lord of the Rings," she says, riffling through memories. Reading them again would just remind her of Dad making Smaug noises that much more.

She walks in a bit more, to peer at the shelves more closely, trails her fingers down the titles of one row. "I've heard of... A Game of Thrones? Or maybe, you have a suggestion?"

Tam
"Oh, I can't say as I'm a fan of A Game of Thrones."

If she were to make anything of his pallor or the fact that he's wearing winter clothing indoors Verna might be in a better position to glean into the statement. A vampire who doesn't care for a series known for its violence and political machinations. What are the odds.

"If you haven't read the Earthsea series by Le Guin, I would highly recommend it."

Verna
"Earthsea," she says, pausing before a block of self-help titles. The Power of Positive Thinking, she reads off of one spine, and it almost raises a sardonic smirk out of her. "I've heard of that too."

"About wizard children. Or something, right?"

Or something.

Verna feels very far away from being a wizard. She could wish to be the kind of person whose problems are solved with the right incantation, maybe. Dream of it. Just have everything go away? Oh, she has powers now. She can tell David's ghoul to sit down and stand up. They figured out that much so far. It can get her out of small troubles, with mortal people, perhaps.

"That sounds nice. I haven't read that series yet."