fandomtownies | Entries tagged with $book haven

After an enlightening dinner last night, Flint had tucked into a book about modern city planning and was now learning about crosswalks, traffic flow, and how he, perhaps, should not have stabbed that car a few weeks ago.

Perhaps.

He glanced up from his bed and then blinked in confusion as a giant lizard stomped past his door and crashed through his display of deeply terrible beach books. He wasn't sorry to see them go, but...

"What the fuck is going on out there?" he demanded to no one, grabbing his pistol and stomping outside.

Being outside did not help with his confusion.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he bellowed.

He'd have some Things to share at First Aid.

fears_no_one

There was a small table outside of the shop covered in pastel books with various sketches of sunsets, beaches, and umbrellas.

Flint was done with beach reads.

TAKE THESE AND PAY ME read the sign under them in ornate, old-fashioned handwriting.

Flint was inside watching the table carefully, so don't even think about taking one and not paying him.

The Ink Spot was open and taking a cautious step towards actual commerce. Good job, Flint.

fears_no_one

There was a small flag on the counter to celebrate Sierra Leone's independence from Great Britain, but it was hard to find behind all of the boxes of 'beach reads' that had appeared from somewhere.

Flint was very certain he hadn't ordered them. (He didn't know what Women Living Deliciously even meant.)

The books, as he unpacked them, were stacked haphazardly onto the floor. He'd move them later, but for now he was just so very confused by their titles.

[OOC: Open!]

fears_no_one

It wasn't that Flint hadn't been in the store, it was just that he hadn't unlocked the front door to let anyone else in to mess up his book collection.

Or store. Whichever. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with selling off his treasure. There was a large stack of books next on the bookshelf to the cash register of various genres he'd tried that he'd found not to his taste.

He might sell those. Might.

The Ink Spot's door was unlocked, at least? It was progress!

fears_no_one

There was a small Ghanaian flag on the counter by the cash register this morning. Flint was over by the fire again, reading a book about the history of spices that had been inspired by Supper Club's trip to an Indian restaurant.

(If he was learning the name of the spicy powders to avoid them next time, that was between the book, himself, and his sensitive 1700s stomach.)

The bookshop was open, even if the door was closed.

theworst_verine

Logan hadn't been bad about going to work. No, no. Don't be silly. He hadn't avoided the hell out of the place after randomly being there as a kid. That would be silly.

Except how he had.

But now he was back to normal. Well. 'Normal.' Or whatever. And there was a new flag that he sure as hell didn't recognize, but it was there.

[open!]

fears_no_one

Right, so Flint had forgotten to open the shop for the last few weeks. In good news for potential book buyers, he'd moved some of the many books he'd been reading over to the "to be sold, for they are rubbish" bookshelf.

It was great news if you were into self-help books, which Flint had discovered he hated.

The shop door was unlocked, the proprietor was next to the fireplace with a Charles Dickens novel, and Sudan and Brunei's tiny flags were on the counter that held the cash register.

Flint still didn't care enough to figure out how to use the cash register.

The book shop was open!

fears_no_one

Flint's life hadn't been filled with a lot of whimsy prior to arriving in Fandom, and it still gave him some significant pause. Tiny, pointless horses traipsing through his shop were definitely cause for additional suspicion, in his view.

"If you harass my books, I have no issue with murdering you," Flint said, feeling vaguely silly threatening small herd of truly ridiculous animals.

There was the small flag of the United Arab Emirates on the counter, roughly the size of one of the horses, and Flint was prowling the shop looking for unacceptable horse behavior.

The bookshop was open! And lacking whimsy, despite the tiny ponies.

fears_no_one

There was a tiny flag for Barbados on the counter, no tiny children (Flint had checked three times), and a cozy fire in the fireplace. Flint was in the chair near it with a copy of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol and a sheet of paper where he was writing down a (long, long) list of people he would send vengeful ghosts to haunt.

It never hurt to be prepared! Someone might come in and ask for it!

The shop was open! There were no Black Friday sales because Flint didn't know that was a thing and also because he didn't really sell things.

theworst_verine

Well, someone woke up not themselves yesterday and then spent way too long trying to get out of the apartment to find food that wasn't a thing of mustard in the fridge. Logan, please just get your life together. For yourself if nothing else!

But he'd managed to find a book store and the whole walk had taken it out of him. So he, James, was just going to settle in with a book as he considered what to do next. Since there was absolutely no supervision going on.

[open!]

fears_no_one

This was, apparently, a second week where no one declared freedom from Great Britain. It was not, Flint decided, because the British had suddenly become reasonable, but perhaps everyone had been too cold to fight about things in November.

It was a good an excuse as any other. Flint had moved his reading chair from the front window to a spot by a fireplace he'd unearthed in the back corner where it had been hidden behind stacks of old books. None of them were in the hearth now. He might be a murderous pirate but he wasn't a book burner. He had some standards.

The bookshop was open and cozy!

fears_no_one

Today there wasn't a small flag on the counter: Flint had finally managed to hit a week where no one was declaring their independence from the British. (Flint was planning on some sort of private "fuck you, England" celebration tonight just to rectify that.)

For now, though, he was reading through a few cookbooks about Thai cuisine and writing down what was turning into a very extensive list of words he didn't know.

The bookshop was open!

theworst_verine

People were back in town after a whole ~~boring~~ blissful week of silence. Did that mean Logan was feeling some type of way about it? No, of course not. But he was at work nonetheless.

And possibly even looking at this weird book that was in the garbage.

"What the fuck?"

Yeah, he was regretting this choice immensely.

[open!]

fears_no_one

Flint had found a very warm, woolly top in his closet today and never one to not use dubiously acquired clothing, he was wearing it downstairs as he opened the bookshop up.

The flag of Antigua was on the counter and Flint was back in his chair. Fordyce's Sermons was in the garbage by the door.

Come interrupt the pirate!

fears_no_one

Flint was regretting the hamburger he'd eaten at Mooby Land last night, but he wasn't regretting how quiet the island had gotten this week.

The door to the shop was propped open to let in the breeze, the flags of St. Vincent and Zambia were on the counter, and Flint was in his chair with a copy of Fordyce's Sermons, flipping pages and snorting audibly at some of this man's conclusions. Miranda would have some thoughts on this when it was finally published in their time, and they would be scathing.

He missed her.

The shop was open.

theworst_verine

So, for this week's shift at the shop, Logan was joined by Wade and the esteemed Mary Puppins. Both of which were there with varying degrees of welcome, honestly.

Not that Logan was going to go out of his way to say anything about it other than vague annoyance on the matter. Because it was still pretty much impossible to express that he was glad to have people again. A work in progress, if you will.

Such was his life these days.

[open!]

fears_no_one

October was apparently a good month for independence days. On the counter--next to a small, slightly sticky, plastic shark--were small flags representing Cyprus, Nigeria, Tuvalu, Iraq, and Lesotho. Flint was in his usual chair by the window. His book of choice was Don Quixote in the original Spanish.

He was being reminded as he read that his Spanish was kind of terrible.

The shop was open!

theworst_verine

Did Logan know that Botswana gained independence from the British on September 30th, 1966? In no way. But there was still, inexplicably, a Botswanan flag on the counter. He hadn't put it there. In fact, he was starting to wonder if this place was haunted or something.

But he was still there, still the least helpful employee this place could ask for.

You're welcome, Flint.

[open!]

fears_no_one

The bookshop was its normal overstuffed, slightly chaotic presence, complete this time with a tiny flag of Botswana on the counter to celebrate its independence on the 30th. Flint was in his cozy chair by the window with a new book--Delizia: The Epic History of the Italians and Their Food--as he indulged in his new interest in Italian cuisine thanks to the Supper Club last night.

Reading took his mind off of wondering when the restaurant opened back up and how much more tiramisu he could eat without developing a stomachache.

theworst_verine

There wasn't a bird around to give Logan something to do in the shop, which meant that he was left to his own devices. That was a mistake because he was now trying to figure out the best location to take a nap in the shop without anyone being able to interrupt him.

Maybe with a pillow made of books.

Doing real good at this whole employment thing. Doin' real good.

[open of course]

fears_no_one

Tiny flags for Belize, Malta, and St. Kitts & Nevis were on the counter today to celebrate their independence days this week. Flint was not in his normal chair by the window today, though: he was in a faceoff with squirrels waving black flags at him. He took another step back from their enthusiasm, frowning. "You're not fucking taking over my shop," he told them. "That's not how piracy works."

The squirrel continued waving their flags.

"I've killed others for much, much less," he warned, eyes going hard.

The squirrels immediately fled, leaving their tiny bottles of rum behind.

"What the hell is wrong with this place?" Flint muttered, cleaning them up before someone came in and stepped on them.

The book store is open and still unwise to yesterday being Talk Like a Pirate Day.

theworst_verine

Well, his boss(?) was still a parrot. Or this parrot was doing a super good job at pretending to be a person who was turned into a parrot and Flint wasn't even around anymore.

Which seemed like the more sane option, honestly.

But Logan was in the shop nonetheless, praying no one wanted to buy any books today. Not unless they only had cash. Because he still had not and would not figure out how to use the card machine. It had dust on it, so he was fully under the assumption this was just what Flint would have wanted.

[open, of course]

theworst_verine

Logan hadn't really planned on showing up to work, but apparently he was now in charge of a particularly surly looking parrot that might have been Flint. So he was at work, trying his best to research what the hell parrots ate so he didn't kill the guy. Bird.

Whatever.

This place was annoying with the whimsy, damn it,

[open!]

theworst_verine

Did Logan know a god damn thing about working in a book store? No. Did he care to actually learn? Also no. But he was there at the shop at least! Which was probably the first step or something stupid like that.

You know. Like going to the gym. Just getting there.

There was the requisite flag of a country that gained independence from England (September 3rd) up that he certainly didn't have a hand in. But it was there and that was all that was important.

[open!]

fears_no_one

Flint had fallen down a bit of a rabbit hole of updated health books after helping Ms. Bennet find something a few weeks ago. The "books that Flint might be all right with parting with, perhaps" shelf was now filled with books that had felt like bullshit (and Flint would judge you if you picked up a Dr. Oz or Dr. Phil book on purpose).

He was in his usual reading chair with Quackery: A Brief History of the Worst Ways to Cure Everything, chuckling occasionally to himself and writing down notes in a leather-bound book. Should he ever find a way to return to his time, he'd have some knowledge to ~~yell~~ share with the ship's doctor.

The door was unlocked, the flag of Trinidad and Tobago was perched on the checkout desk to celebrate their upcoming independence from Great Britain, and the book shop was open!

fears_no_one

There were small Indian and Pakistani flags on the counter today to celebrate their independence days this week, and Flint was paging through a new book today--Human, All Too Human by a man called Nietzsche--and enjoying the quiet.

He wouldn't hate an interruption: a month without a crisis for him to deal with had left him feeling itchy and unsettled.

fears_no_one

The flags of Vanuatu and the Maldives were on the checkout counter, tucked carefully next to the small shelf of books that Flint had read and disliked enough to possibly consider parting with. He was currently in his normal spot by the window, seated in his comfortable chair and reading Les Trois Mousquetaires. His French was only passable but the story was compelling enough to get him to keep going, aided by a small French-English dictionary nearby.

The ~~pirate~~ shopkeeper was very interruptible.

fears_no_one

After being horribly overstimulated by the movie in his class (?) about kitchens (??!), Flint retreated to his shop with a soothing cup of tea without ice or milk, thank you ever so much.

The fortnight previous' ~~parroting~~ obstacles had preventing him from properly celebrating the Bahamas' independence day, so there was a large flag in the window today, which somewhat blocked the view of the street from his comfortable chair.

His little bookshelf of books he'd read, hated, and might sell had increased by a few, and he was currently reading Gulliver's Travels, a book not even written in his time. It felt very daring.

The shop was open.

fears_no_one

After seeing how decorated the tavern had been on Tuesday, Flint wondered if the tiny Canadian and American flags on his counter were a little too understated for his continuing celebration of independence from the British Empire.

He thought that over, then shrugged. He wasn't really that worried about it.

The door to the shop was closed now that he'd learned the Rules About Cold Air and he was in his chair by the window. Today's reading was the US Declaration of Indepedence. He was really enjoying people--using very nice calligraphy--telling the king to go fuck himself.

The Ink Spot was open! Whether Flint would sell you a book was still up for debate.

fears_no_one

Flint was master of his own domain! A domain much less full of ugly, overly carved furniture now. (But he'd kept the reading chair. And mattresses had come a long way in three hundred years.)

The bookshop portion of the building had gotten slightly tidier (now that he had space to horde them upstairs), with a very small bookshelf next to the checkout area that contained the five books he'd finished and didn't like. He might be convinced to sell those to you. Perhaps. On the counter tiny flags of the Seychelles and Somalia had replaced Kuwait's. Their independence days from the United Kingdom were celebrated this week, so Flint was celebrating, too.

He was in a chair by the window with a copy of Milton's Paradise Lost. The door to the shop was open because he'd never been taught about keeping all the cold air inside.

fears_no_one

Flint had been doing some major clearing out and rearranging in the week since he'd washed up on shore, broken into the bookshop and declared it his.

He'd also spent an inordinate amount of time flipping the lights on and off, flushing the toilet, and turning on the hot and cold water taps in the apartment above the shop. He'd also quietly panicked at the cold air cycling through the building. The less said about his search for a giant ice cube secreted in the cupboards, the better.

He hadn't made sense yet of the how the books were arranged (other than "a lot of them" and "in many piles") and he kept getting distracted by some title or another. He also had no idea what a "bookbelt" was, so he'd taken the sign outside down and replaced it with a temporary piece of timber that he'd scrawled "THE INK SPOT" onto. He'd get a better, more permanent sign soon.

He was currently seated in a battered leather reading chair under a lamp with a copy of Cervantes' Novelas Ejemplares. On the checkout counter/holding space for the books he'd already finished (not many) was a tiny Kuwaiti flag, celebrating their independence from Great Britain on June 19, 1961.

The bookshop was open.

fears_no_one

After a long evening scouting out the island (and only being slightly distracted by how quiet and clean it had been. He hadn't seen a single stabbing all night! It was unnatural!), Flint made a third pass along Minotaur Lane. His Greek myth loving heart appreciated the name, even if washing up in a place so organized it had street signs made his skin crawl a bit.

The massive building on the corner had too many people going in and out but the small bookshop tucked into its shadow seemed silent far into the morning.

Trying to appear casual despite the bright red "FFD" across the front of the shirt that the two firemen had given him yesterday, he stepped up to the door and broke the lock, then stepped inside.

He was greeted by more books than he'd ever seen in his life. Running cautious fingers along spines as he read the titles, stopping when one in particular caught his eye. "The Decline and Fall of the British Empire", he read aloud, then laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks.

Anyone walking past would now see a ginger man curled in a chair by the window in an unlit book shop, avidly reading.

[OOC: Come meet Captain Flint!]

deathsmajesty

There were many kinds of joys in the Multiverse, but there was none quite like browsing through a bookstore for no other reason than for the simple love of books. Liliana had been browsing through the various stacks for well over an hour now, drifting from history to travel to poetry to culture and was now poking at the various kinds of fiction. She hadn't yet seen if there was a section about magic - well, that wasn't entirely true, there was a 'New Age' section but Liliana wasn't going to trust anything written by someone named 'Silver Ravenwolf,' especially not after paging through the first book and seeing absolute nonsense - but even without it, she'd have to call this an excellent haul, as evidenced by an ever-growing stack of books she was carrying around with her.

A trip to the horror, fantasy, and speculative fiction aisles were in order. Always good to know what a plane's cultural anxieties were, what they considered fantastical, and where they imagined themselves going in the future.

The book at the bottom of the stack, An Introduction to Braille, had probably just been picked up by accident and shouldn't be taken as indictive of anything in particular, thank you.

[Open for other book lovers! Or book haters, I guess.]

deathsmajesty

Liliana had several errands to run in town today and one of those errands just happened to involve the bookstore. She was pleased to discover that, unlike Turtle and Canary, the inside of the shop looked fairly close to what she expected a bookstore to look like. Some concessions to the fact that it existed on the weirdest plane she'd been to yet, but overall, filled with books and shelves and that was really all she needed. She found her first purchase relatively easily, her second was a little harder, because while she had the name of the author, it was surrounded by a fair number of other interesting-looking books that she had to pause to peruse, and the third, well, all she had was a topic and a fairly broad one at that, so...if anybody needed Liliana, she'd be in the history section, a basket on her arm half-full of books (only two of which she had intended to purchase when she'd entered), idly flipping through a book about pyramids and arguing with it.

"I sincerely doubt that the people on this plane required Planeswalkers to make a building," she informed the book witheringly, like it might pass the message along to its author. "Even a very big one. Honestly, you're just embarrassing yourself. Well, you and your editor."

[Open for other book lovers!]

bookbeltof_love

So.

Like. It had been awhile but Nina didn't feel particularly sorry for that in any sense as she surfaced in her shop, eyed the dust, and then got to cleaning because, like, if nothing else, cleaning was something that needed to be done and...

Well, she had a lot of research to reflect on. And probably more books to special order in to further it because she had ideas but she hadn't yet decided if she was running down the entirely wrong path or if she was On To Something.

(And even if she wasn't, like, she had picked up a lot and also no research was ever truly wasted...)

Once she was done cleaning, and checking her socials (which honestly took longer than the cleaning), both of which were as she expected, Nina contemplated her work and her class options for the semester. Like, sure, she'd taken Ethics before but she was getting awfully close to that ugly, ugly word (graduation, for the record) and it was a chance to hang around Bus Dean...

Hmmmm... decisions, decisions....

The Bookbelt is Open!

[And OCD free!]

bookbeltof_love

You know who stress-cleaned? Nina. Though, really, even after a night of flinging herself into work it was still closer to angry cleaning than stress but, like, even that was preferable to dealing with how incredibly, breathtakingly hurt she was about—

Nina shook that thought away, scrubbing furiously at a desk chair that really didn’t need to be deep-cleaned the way she was treating it but that was fine, that was perfect, it was her shop so she made the rules and they couldn’t just, like, change on her without warning and--

She’d have to make her excuses to Professor Skywalker next week but, like, she wasn’t attending her class today because she didn’t want to deal with a teacher right about now in any capacity.

Besides, she was still grimly, stubbornly, going through everyone she knew and re-categorizing them based on if it would be appropriate or not to keep talking to them as if they were her friends.

Because apparently she had a lot less than she’d thought she’d had if it was so inappropriate for her to expect teachers to treat her like she was a friend.

The chair leg creaked alarmingly and Nina let it go before she broke it.

She knew she was being overdramatic. She knew she was probably over-exaggerating how world-endingly terrible this was.

But being angry was better than dealing with the hot, ugly tears that she kept having to fight off, especially now that she was over-tired from not sleeping on top of—everything else.

The Bookbelt is Closed.

[The store is closed, door is locked, but Nina will open the door if it’s knocked on and the post is totally open for calls or texts.]

bookbeltof_love

She was finished!

Okay, like, she'd ignored all considerations of sleeping last night and had pushed through to finish at like three in the morning which was technically not Wednesday but, like, Dad and Prompto visiting had thrown her schedule off a bit and then there'd been the whole thing where Summer just kept… disappearing?

Sure, Nina was willing to look after Pancakes (though she thought it was more Pancakes looking after her) but given that she and Summer had been basically temporary roommates it had been a… weird feeling worrying if she was to blame for her disappearing… even though Summer had seemed to have no problems with Nina being there…

Well, either way, she wasn't there now. If it was her fault, Nina was finished with her work until Saturday so, like…

Whatever, right?

Okay, it wasn't going to stop her from being concerned (because if she was causing people problems she, like, liked to know about them at the very least…) but at the very least today all she had on the docket was working at her shop (which looked a lot like just curling up in one of the reading chairs with a book and her diary today) and just… chilling?

Sure, that just meant she was working on fewer things at once than other people did but, like, that was basically the same thing, right?

And, okay, she was also texting Iggy.

The Bookbelt is Open!

[And OCD-free today!]

bookbeltof_love

Nina burst through the doors of the bookstore precisely fifteen minutes before she was due to open. Like, sure, she was the owner-on-island and if she was late (perish the thought) no one but her would care (she'd care a lot though) and everything but it was the principal of the matter. If she didn't hold herself up to high standards then how could she ever expect to meet anyone else's?

Because she'd been in earlier in the week to clean, Nina didn't have to do much else but sweep the store with a glance, turn on the lights, get a glass of water for herself, and then she could get down to business. It was fun to set out the new books they'd gotten in, Nina making mental notes for a few that she wanted to read herself, and it was also fun to put in a new order for things.

As the day wore on, though, all of that was accomplished and she was alternating between working on her scripts for Sir Foomy, pouring over what her class had suggested on Monday, and, most interestingly, working on posters for her book club.

Since she wasn't busy enough and all but, like, it was criminal how the island didn't have one already…

The Bookbelt is Open!

bookbeltof_love

Today, Nina breezed into her store precisely fifteen minutes before it was supposed to be opened. Mostly because, like, she felt if she did that, Liam wouldn't worry about her not sleeping because somehow he would know.

And, like, sure she'd been up a lot of the night, over-excited because the moose had come through for her and now she had graph paper all over her bedroom floor but, like, that was different than up all night because of bad dreams or things troubling her, right?

Right?

She sent off a few sassy emails to Rufus, who was snide back—but, she was amused to note, he always answered right away—and got to work decorating. Like, whatever the island was doing was sort of… anemic this year, though she'd been amused by the random reindeer hanging out on the roof, so that meant…

Well.

That meant by the end of the day, her shop was going to look like Christmas had exploded all over it.

It wasn't even her holiday—though she did pause, vaguely terrified, at the fact that she was going to have to ask her Dad and Miss Verity if there was, like, a family thing? But, like, weren't they going to do their anniversary celebration? She didn't want to get in the way of that and and and…

Maybe she just wouldn't say anything.

Though she was going to take a moment to wonder if she should follow up with Sabine and Astrid for an update on Noct's Christmas gift.

…

… wait. Did she need to get a gift for Miss Verity and the mice too?

Now Nina was decorating and looking up gift ideas for people (did she know Miss Verity well enough to get her something thoughtful? did the mice need one gift or separate ones?) and, well, like... it was honestly a really good day?

If a little panicked. It was already the 10th!

The Bookbelt is Open!

bookbeltof_love

We're the youngest generation of Prices. …You'd be the next generation…

Nina had done a pretty good job bothering Duke on Sunday and losing herself in flying and attempts at picking locks (she could manage basic ones as a pony—it was a victory that only she really cared about) and then on Monday she'd thrown herself headlong into moping about the lack of wings.

(Which, being clear, was a huge tragedy.)

But by the time Tuesday rolled around, Miss Verity's words, which had stuck and lingered and rolled around in the back of her head had left her sleepless and anxious in ways she wasn't quite sure how to face head on.

( Because Nina had FEELINGS. )

By the time the shop was open, the place was sparkling clean and Nina was reading in one of the squashy, comfortable chairs at the front.

I love you, she texted Prompto, five minutes before she knew his alarm was supposed to go off. She didn't know if he'd answer. He was so busy these days, but she hoped it made him smile anyway.

Then she went back to her tea and her books and the ghosts of thoughts that plagued her.

The Bookbelt is Open.

[That Nina was at the shop early and cleaning is FB, what she was saying is NFB, please!]

bookbeltof_love

It was… probably best not to ask just how early Nina had gotten into work at her shop because by the time she officially opened, she'd cleaned the place from top to bottom, put away the new books, submitted her order for more, and gotten Halloween decorations up (the random bowl of candy was actually, like, on point today, though she wasn't eating any of it)…

Then she'd taken up the bulk of her counter space with art supplies. Like, sure she could do things low-key and simple for when she was selling tickets tomorrow but… really… that just wasn't her style.

So there was a ferocious amount of black, orange, and silver glitter being wielded today at the book shop.

All in the name of Homecoming!

Mwahaha!

The Bookbelt is Open! And… very, very glittery.

bookbeltof_love

Decorate the island for Parents' Weekend?

Nina was so down for that which was why, after the assembly, she could be found down at The Bookbelt, with an absolutely ridiculous pile of stencils and paint options.

It didn't take long to clean the building and then she white-washed the whole thing.

Nina wasn't much of an artist. Her spell diagrams were certainly beautiful and complex but they weren't the same as having artistic talent. Besides, like hers lay in writing and this was a bookstore.

So around the door she had yesterday is history, in English; tomorrow's a mystery, in German; and today is a gift, that's why it's called the present, in French.

After that, both her quotes and her languages got more varied as she expanded the lettering across the entirety of her shop. A room without books is like a body without a soul was done in Swahili. In Japanese she had: When I have a little money, I buy books; and if I have any left, I buy food and clothes. Spanish got: rainy days should be spent at home with a cup of tea and a good book. French and German got their own book-related quotes too before she spent some time using languages that weren't from this universe at all before she went back to English with: Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.

Then she went on and on and on…

After all, Nina knew books and Nina knew languages. This was easy. This was fun…

This was going to take a while.

The Bookbelt is Open! But mostly for decorating.

bookbeltof_love

So, like, Nina had about a million things to do (when didn't she though) but today most of her focus was on a) cleaning shop and b) wondering if it would be kind of pathetic to ask Prompto if he was showing up for Parents Weekend.

He probably had more important things to do, right? And it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other quite a bit recently. And she didn't want to be a bother...

... Maybe she'd ask Bus Dean to be her fake dad again. Or Liam.

But what if she was bothering them too? Ugh. It wasn't like Parents Weekend was important...

The Bookbelt is Open!

cypher_can_fly

Summers were for lazing about, that had become clear to Owen.

Of course, to do your lazing about the right way, you needed money. And so there Owen was, sighing wistfully at the tea nook that he was not, he would point out, lazing in right now.

He had been using a broom to clean up the same patch of floor for about an hour now, though. But still: that wasn't lazing!

[[ open ]]

bookbeltof_love

"Ohmygosh," Nina said to a disbelieving Leroy and a gaggle of other squirrels. "I would never have one of you guys stuffed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like, I swear on my brother's life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Nina's shift at her shop was, uhhhh…

It was going oddly. To say the least.

"Look, see????????????????" She set her stuffed toy squirrel down on the counter. "See, look, he's never been real in the first place!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

She watched, dubiously, as the squirrels huddled around her toy, chittering amongst themselves.

The Bookbelt is Open!

[Was this post inspired by radio? It was totally inspired by radio.]

bookbeltof_love

Since Nina had taken over the shop, the collection of books on magic had slowly been growing so, like, when she needed a reference, rather than go to the Magic Box, she hit up her own bookstore first.

Only to find the books studying some spells of their own.

"Okay, like," Nina said, "I don't mind if you all want to learn to fly, but if any of you start trying to toss fireballs about I'm locking all the magic books away from you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

From the way their pages all rustled at that, she was taking it that she had their agreement but, like, after seeing what they were up to… she figured that… well, she might as well stick around for a bit. Just in case.

She could read and she could keep an eye on the books and their attempts at using magic to fly. It was a lot like falling so far but they were determined.

The Bookbelt is Open!

bookbeltof_love

The books were... quiet today.

Nina, like, knew better than to think that they were too quiet because that was just asking for trouble but she was side-eyeing them all the same as she cleaned the place up and put the newest books up on the shelves.

Even that was done quietly, with a few rustled pages here or there but nothing much more.

Deeply unsettled and suspicious, Nina eventually curled up in one of the reading chairs with a book and resolved just to... keep an eye on the situation.

The Bookbelt is Open!

bookbeltof_love

"Ummmmmmmmmmmm................."

Nina didn't, like, quite know how the books had discovered she'd written basically a novel for her class (and it was a terrible, terrible novel but she loved it fiercely) but today, like, they were..........

"Like, really," she said, leaning over to look at Getting Your Book Published for Dummies and Self-Publishing for Dummies, "I think I'm, like, good thanks????????????????????"

The books shuffled around insistently.

"And, like, I'm sure there's references out there that don't insult me in the title?????????????????"

The books paused.

"That's right," Nina scolded them, "you think about that for a bit while I get things open!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The Bookbelt is Open!

[And OCD free!]

bookbeltof_love

It had taken her a little longer to get going in the morning than usual and she was still plagued by her cough but, otherwise, Nina was feeling tentatively okay!

She didn't quite trust it, but it was nice after losing almost a whole week to being trapped in her room.

So when she came in to open up shop and all her books were wearing face masks…

"Ohmygosh," she said crossly, "that's not funny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You're all rude!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Hmph. Of course, then she started coughing, and Nina hated the way the books rustled their pages as if their point was justified.

The Bookbelt is Open!

[And OCD free!]

bookbeltof_love

"I don't think so!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Nina said, upon walking into her bookshop and realizing that, like, the books and the magazines were facing off in what…………….. she peered at all the open pages. "Ohmygosh, like, you're all very fashionable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There's no need to fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now, like, either set up a runway and do this properly or get back on your shelves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

While the pages rustled as they decided what they were going to do, Nina hurried through the usual chores of getting the shop open before sitting down at the counter and, well, she should probably order more books but…

No, today she was going to watch as the books already here set up a runway, and she was also going to work on the gloves she'd promised Mae.

The Bookbelt is Open!

[And OCD free!]

Fandom High RPG

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