A Little Fond of Reading

[Lin]

Etienne was small; very small, in fact, and as he stood in the center of the Town Square he felt even smaller. To see anyone's eyes he was forced to look up and up, above his glasses. He was only five feet high.

In his hands he cradled a book as though it were a child. Etienne always had a book in his hands. This one's cover was worn from years of use and love, with frayed edges where the binding had begun to come undone. It was Voltaire's 'Dictionnaire Philosophique' and it was one of Etienne's prized possessions. He had had it for a number of years- having received it long before he was old enough to read it- and had treasured it. It was the only one of Voltaire's works he owned. True, he had read much more of Voltaire, but he only owned one book.

With a flick of his wrist he adjusted his pale pink cravat, putting it back into its original position. It had been knocked out of place a moment or two earlier when some giant- the man had to have been at least six feet tall- bumped into him.

Etienne sighed, hugging the book closer to his chest. In the stories, one always met interesting new people in town squares. He'd been there for an hour, and had only seemed to have people run into him.

Out of the corner of his eye, the young man noted the cafe that stood to his right. He felt in his pockets. He had actually enough for tea, which surprised him. Etienne smiled. Usually he lived on very little money and never, ever had leftover change. But today, things were looking up financially for him, and besides: he felt that he, Etienne, deserved a cup of tea.

He hurried over to the cafe, pulling a few coins from his greatcoat pockets and standing on his tiptoes to see over the counter. "Tea, please. Earl Grey, no sugar, no cream." The woman at the cashier smiled indulgently at him, and Etienne recognized the look. It was the same one mothers gave little children. He sent a chilly, polite smile her way in return for her stares.

Etienne paid, took his tea, and sat down with his book at a table, attempting to ignore the woman at the cashier. He ran his fingers gently over his 'Dictionnaire' and flipped it open to the first page. Since Etienne had no plans to meet anyone, he decided that he could read in peace, with no one to disturb him.

He hoped that no one would sit down in the chair opposite him.

[Iƪƪia]

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[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] There was something about being in glorified garden that made him feel... Almost uncomfortable, actually. For some strange reason, it felt as though everyone was staring at him; as if they thought he was an outsider. He'd been living on this island since before they were born! They were the outsiders! Or was it the whole 'evil' thing? Racist bastards. Or maybe it was the fact that he chose to walk around in his human form, shirtless. In that case, he could totally understand how intimidated they'd feel, or how amazed at his sexiness they were. Ignoring the strange looks they gave him, he had seat at a table in a small cafe. He didn't bother to order anything, though it wasn't as if they'd willingly serve him anyway. Instead, he had a mirror propped up in front of him and was holding something small and metallic in his hand. He couldn't be sure what exactly it was, but it looked like a sort of hooked claw. From what creature, he didn't bother to figure out. All that mattered was that it looked really cool. Held at just the right angle it shone a variety of colors. He held it up in front of him for a moment in wonder. Then, his course of action having been decided, he quickly punctured a hole in his bottom lip on the left side and threaded it through. He adjusted it until it was just right, aware of several sets of eyes on him, but knowing that none of them actually wanted to come over and ask him to leave. Did they think he'd refuse? The thought caused him to chuckle as he licked the blood off of his fingertips. Pushing the mirror away, he noticed another most peculiar creature in the cafe as well. A creature that he may have mistaken for a child if he was, you know, stupid. Quickly, he rose from his seat and made his way over to the other table. He liked it when they were short, for some reason. Maybe because when they were short, they were even cuter. Or maybe it was because it made him feel tall for once. Nah, it was probably just because they were cute. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down in the chair opposite the mortal, resting his head on his hand as he watched it reading. And that was it. He only stared and said nothing at all.

[Lin]

Etienne sipped his tea comfortably, glad he was, at last, out of the public eye. There was something to be said for being able to sit alone in a cafe with a cup of tea and a copy of Voltaire. As he read, head bent down slightly so as to see through his glasses, Etienne thumbed the worn edges of the binding idly. He was unaware of much around him. Voltaire was fascinating, honestly. In Etienne's opinion there was no way to read an author but in their original language- hence why the book was in French. His thoughts moved quickly as his eyes flickered over the pages, adopting, as they often did, the language he was reading in. As he was thinking (Voltaire requires thinking, of course) he was doing it in French.

Cupping a free hand around his teacup, he lowered the edge of his book slightly to take a sip.

He nearly started out of his skin- literally.

The empty chair across from his had been suddenly filled during the time he had been reading. Etienne, a little shakily, marked his page and shut the book, setting it down tenderly on the tabletop. He tried his best to flash a polite smile, but it came out as nervous and shy instead.

"Bonjour," Etienne said, still thinking in French. "Puis-je vous aider?" He shook his head. He had meant to say 'hello. Can I help you?' in English, but apparently he didn't have his languages straight.

"Good afternoon," he said, getting the English right this time. "Can I help you?" Mechanically he lifted his teacup to his lips, taking a sip of the strong tea and stalling for time as he looked for something to say. His curiosity was naturally roused by this person who had sat down, unannounced, uninvited, at his table, and his sharp eyes flicked over his companion. He gathered, however, little, and gave it up, taking another sip of tea. Chastely, he lowered his eyes, remembering it was rude to stare.

[Iƪƪia]

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[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] Argus didn't mind waiting. Sometimes the waiting could be fun. It gave you the perfect opportunity to learn more about your new companion. Indeed, much could be learned from just waiting and watching. Like right now Argus had amassed a plethora of useful information about this mortal. Useful piece of info number one: It liked its books. With this in mind, he was pleased to see it had put that book down as soon as it noticed him. He immediately sat at attention, returning the mortal's uncertain smile with an even broader, cheerful one of his own. Had he been in one of his other forms, his tail would surely have been wagging. It wasn't simple because the mortal was giving him attention, but because it was willing to put aside that book it loved so much to give him attention. It made him feel special. He waited as it managed to mutter some sort of greeting. Twice. It must be nervous. How adorable was that? Pretty damn adorable, it was. So much so in fact, that he decided to admire the mortal for a bit rather than responding immediately. Once he had his fill, he sighed deeply and let his head fall into his hands again. "Man, I hope so. I was tasked with collecting some really small mythical birds to sacrifice to the volcano by midnight tonight, see..." Seeing as it wasn't using the book, he picked it up himself and flipped through the first few pages. "In all seriousness though, I was bored. Then I saw you sitting over here all by your lonesome and... I get very lonely sometimes, ya know? So very... Lonely." Letting his words trail off, he snapped the book shut and began balancing it on its spine instead. It was just a little surprising that people still read books nowadays. Didn't they have, like, machines to do everything for them? Although it wasn't as if he'd read many books in the past. No, he'd just get the story from someone who did read it and then he'd memorize it. It was the abridged version, but the story remained mostly the same. "Back in the day, I was like a ghostwriter... To the gods. Other gods," He muttered, seemingly to himself, "Other gods too lazy to write their own damn stories." He thought about this for a moment before he set the book down and pushed it back across the table. By now he seemed to have moved beyond the formalities and had jumped right into giving the mortal his life story. Part of it, at least. "Do you know how hard it is to make a crazy, transgender devil woman sound decent? Well, not too difficult for me, but to you're average person it would be difficult."

[Lin]

Etienne coughed politely as his companion studied him. He was torn: his first instinct was to withdraw completely from the conversation, to block out all questions until the intruder got tired of watching him. His second instinct was to study him- Etienne had never seen anyone like him before. And as he waited for the creature to leave, he had the growing suspicion that it was enjoying watching him.

Well, if it was enjoying watching him, he would enjoy watching it.

With only a slight hesitation Etienne leaned forward, resting his chin in one palm, and peered through his glasses at the creature as it began to talk.

"Man, I hope so. I was tasked with collecting some really small mythical birds to sacrifice to the volcano by midnight tonight, see..."

Etienne turned his head to the side in surprise. He coughed again, quietly, politely, trying to hide his disbelief. Whatever little joke his new 'friend' was trying to make, it wasn't very funny. He didn't much fancy being sacrificed. Then, too, it had made a completely offhand remark about his race that rather startled him. Etienne wasn't used to being referred to as a 'really small mythical bird', though he supposed he was one. Still, as one who put much more faith in the size of the mind than the size of the mortal body, the student felt obliged to correct him.

"Lyre Bird," he said. "Lyre Bird. 'Small' is hardly a fixed concept, so, please, don't identify me that way." Etienne glanced away momentarily as he adjusted his frames. "Enough people do already."

"In all seriousness though, I was bored. Then I saw you sitting over here all by your lonesome and... I get very lonely sometimes, ya know? So very... Lonely."[/i]

A little cry of protest rose to Etienne's lips as his companion flipped through his Voltaire. He bit down on it, hard, but it was too late- he had already squeaked out a faint "No!". Silently, fingers tightening into fists beneath the table, the Lyre Bird berated himself for the outburst. Clearly his 'friend' was attracted to his 'cute' appearance, and childish noises would only encourage him. Though Etienne wasn't actively wishing that the other creature would go away, he did wish he could go back to reading.

Despite his best intentions, though, he winced when his companion began balancing the book on its spine. As a sort of distraction he lifted the teacup to his lips again.

At last he could stand it no longer. He held out his hand. "It's delicate; please, may I have it back?" And idea came to him: if his companion liked cute, then maybe that would be a good way to get his book back. Etienne wasn't going to be content until he had Voltaire back between his palms. Ignoring every self-respecting vein in his body, he widened his eyes a little, turning his head downwards a hair in a shy, pleading gesture. My book, he thought to himself. I'm not doing this for him. I want my book.

"... Other gods," He muttered, seemingly to himself, "Other gods too lazy to write their own damn stories."

Etienne's eyes widened. Standing smoothly, he bowed with a little dramatic hand flourish. "I'm... sorry. I was... preoccupied just a minute ago. I didn't..." There wasn't anything for him to say. Though he was usually a suave, smooth, genteel speaker, Etienne had to grasp at straws just then. "My name is Etienne Martin, monsieur." So he was still thinking partially in French. He gave his head a little shake to clear it, then seated himself again gracefully.

"Do you know how hard it is to make a crazy, transgender devil woman sound decent? Well, not too difficult for me, but to you're average person it would be difficult."[/i]

"I imagine," he said, reaching protectively for the book passed back to him, "that it is difficult, though why one would attempt to do such a thing is... well, I suppose that you might say it's beyond me. Certainly-" he pushed up his glasses with his forefinger. "-certainly it is not something I would do. The dissertation and the essay are more of my style than the memoir, though I do read all genres of books. As a student," he chuckled, "that is very nearly a must. I suppose you, monsieur, have read many books as well?" Etienne had given up trying to fix the French words that freckled his sentences.

[Iƪƪia]

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[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] ”You and I are one and the same.” He continued without much of a pause. It was easy for him to identify with the short kid. Just about every guy – and some women – he'd met would tower over him. Not that he minded much. Of course, he always thought the short ones were much cuter. Whenever he saw one, it unlocked his nurturing side, and he simply had to gather it into his arms and keep it safe and warm, and away from all of the horrible, evil people out there. ”But like they say: the size isn't what matters... It's how you use it.” He smiled seductively at the small mortal, batting his eyelashes playfully before giggling to himself and leaning back to look around at the rest of the tables. Another thing about the short ones: they always had the best reactions when he teased them like that. Just like this one gave that adorable, little anguished cry when he stole its precious book. Didn't it know that that just made him want to do it again? Oh, but that wouldn't be nice at all, so he wouldn't try it. As the mortal stood and bowed at him, he watched it in confusion for a moment clasping his hands together and smiling, pleased that the mortal thought that he was someone worth bowing at. The people here were so nice and polite, finally giving him the respect he so rightfully deserved. The other gods rarely ever took him seriously. This was why he hung out with mortals. It did wonders for his self confidence. Then the mortal gave him something he hadn't realized he'd been missing: a name. Well, he supposed that was rather rude of him, not to introduce himself first. Of course, names where never that important to him. Although they did have their usefulness, as they often offered someone else more information if he spoke about someone while using their name rather than “that one mortal in the cafe.” ”Et- Ay... Ten,” He tried the name a few times, frowning as the proper pronunciation was lost on him, ”It's really harder when you have to read a name and guess at the pronunciation. Oh, but Martin. I know that one. My name is Sanitas, but you may call me Argus.” He had since pulled his chair closer to the mortals, reveling in its... Company. Staring deep into its eyes, his own eyes moved ever so slightly, as if he were reading a book. ”Your supposing would be correct, Marty,” He nodded in response to the inquiry about his history with literature, ”I've read every single book you've read. Among others.” He shrugged, already uninterested at his impressive record. Well sure, it may have seemed impressive once, after reading Les Misérables for the fourth time, it got pretty old pretty quickly. ”Yeah, sometimes I've got a lotta free time on my hands, being an immortal god and all.” Really, was there ever a wrong time to remind someone of your awesomeness? Of course not.

[Lin]

”You and I are one and the same.”

Etienne frowned a little at this. For one, it was true that the god was short; still, he felt like it was a little presumptuous to consider the two of them 'one and the same' when Etienne was clearly the shorter of them. He, who was precise with his words, would not have said something like that unless it were exactly true.

Secondly, he wondered if the god ever stopped talking. There was very little time in between Etienne's words and the god's. He did not have a problem with discussing things with his new 'friend', but incessant talking would get on his nerves very quickly, and Etienne did not want to accidently be rude to a god, even one as strange as Argus was turning out to be.

”But like they say: the size isn't what matters... It's how you use it.”

This wasn't strictly true in Etienne's mind either, as it was the size of the mind that mattered, not how one utilized their mortal body, but he nodded anyways, a little taken aback by the almost seductive smile that Argus was giving him. An involuntary blush colored his cheeks. It was true that he 'took interest' in gentlemen, but only in ones he had known. If Argus really thought he could get anywhere with just a flutter of his eyelashes, he would find out that he was wrong very quickly. It would take a lot more than that.

Of course, Etienne desperately hoped that Argus didn't mean anything by the smile.

”Et- Ay... Ten,” He tried the name a few times, frowning as the proper pronunciation was lost on him, ”It's really harder when you have to read a name and guess at the pronunciation...”

"It's 'eh-tee-en'," he corrected quietly. "It's French. You came closer than many people, however, monsieur." As Argus pulled his chair over closer to him, Etienne glanced at his hands, a little embarrassed and trying to hide it. Finally, he looked up again, meeting the god's eyes. "I usually don't have much of a problem with names, seeing as languages... come naturally to me."

”Your supposing would be correct, Marty,” ... ”I've read every single book you've read. Among others.”

Immediately upon hearing those words, Etienne's whole face light up, as if someone had just switched on a lamp. While he was fairly awkward when talking about many things, literature was one thing that he could talk forever about. If he was lucky, Etienne thought, Argus wouldn't mind a little discussion. It was so hard to find anyone who had good taste in literature these days that he planned to take full advantage of this chance- that was, of course, providing Argus did not object. He had seemed offhand, casual, disinterested when mentioning his vast experience with novels, and so- heaven forbid- might not actually want to spend forever talking about obscure novels with Etienne.

”Yeah, sometimes I've got a lotta free time on my hands, being an immortal god and all.”[/b]

That explains why you are talking to me, someone you have never met before, Etienne thought. But, out loud, he said, "I imagine that it is nice to have all the time in the world. Days move by so quickly sometimes for me, and there is so little time to learn..." He looked down at his copy of Voltaire, smiling fondly as he ran his thumb over the cover. Pausing for a moment, Etienne finally continued, "What are you doing here, then? You are a god, after all, but you are spending your time talking to me, in a nameless little cafe, in Haven? It makes me wonder..."

[Iƪƪia]

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[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] The little gestures that the mortal was making - the way he blushed or when he looked away from his eyes - made Argus wonder if he maybe returned his interest. Or perhaps he was very uncomfortable. It was most likely the latter, and that only caused his smile to broaden. What was his life like without that constant air of discomfort? He was, after all, an evil entity, and... Well, making someone uncomfortable was evil, right? Maybe a little. He shrugged the thoughts away, listening with the utmost interest as he explained his name and his ear for language. True, Argus was well versed in all languages, but that didn't necessarily mean he knew the mechanics. After all, he didn't interpret language like most people. He understood everything through meaning, not words. He could converse with an Englishman, a Frenchman, or a deaf person one after the other without having to change his own "language" at all. "Hm... What else comes naturally to you, I wonder," He purred, which was a strange thing for a dog to do, but he did it nonetheless, dragging a nail along the edge of the table in a seductive fashion. The mortal seemed to perk up when he mentioned his immense knowledge of literature, however. Made sense. He had pegged him as a bookworm. Argus, not so much. Sure, he'd tried reading and gaining as much knowledge as possible because it seemed to be what gods did, but personally, he'd rather live the stories instead of just reading them. "Eh, it's alright. Things can get pretty boring pretty quickly though." He only shrugged, acting uncharacteristically disinterested in his own immortality. It was fun to brag about and all, but it really wasn't as great as people made it out to be. He was glad he had all the time in the world to have fun, though. Although that also meant he had all the time in the world to be reprimanded for having such fun. "Hm? What, do you expect me to hang out with the other gods all day? They're freakin' boring, man. Besides, they don't like me much." His hand felt along his other wrist, where the shackles had once cut into his flesh. Now, no such mark remained to remind him of his time spent imprisoned; he had only his memories. It would have been better if the shackles had been just a little looser. He could barely feel anything because of how tightly that had bound him. "I'd much rather spend my time talking with... Well, people like you. Little, insignificant mortal... Being visited by a god. Has the makings of a great novel."