The library is the sort of place you’d expect in an old-fashioned town like Helvaband: filled with a modest, yet wisely-selected array of books from horror to reference. Alan Crane is an older man, his blond hair beginning to thin, and his tall and lanky figure growing ever more stooped after many hours bent over a book at his desk, too short for his tall stature. He is willing to help anyone find a book when they are in need, but is very strict about paying the proper respect, both to himself and the books he loves so much. Posted on the door is a faded sign that reads the hours, and rules such as “no gum allowed”, “no dropping books”, and “no rapping covers – binders are hard to come by”. When one walks into the library door, they are met with about eight or nine shelves of consequence, creating the majority of the store. To the direct left of the doorway is Alan’s desk, which boasts several(very tidy) stacks of books he is currently reading. Amongst these are ‘The Odyssey’, ‘Emma’, and ‘Tales of Edgar Alan Poe’, along with others.

Note: Alan Crane is an NPC

Richard Bingley

It was a calm day, which was a relief. On many days so far, there had been quite a bustle around Helvaband. Albertine hated crowds, and would therefore not come, even on such occasions as Christmas. But, somehow, Richard had accomplished persuading her to take him to the Library. It was a quiet yet beautiful place, one he liked to go often. But chair did not comply with him to go to town alone, sadly, so he had to convince his daughter to take him when he went. Mark was working in the fields as much as he could on days like this, and though Mark was a kind soul - unlike his wife - he simply had no time to talk to Richard enough to keep the elder man's attention stayed. But today, Albertine had thankfully consented to a short time at the Library, which was a wonderful stroke of luck. Once inside, Richard pressed being able to move of his own accord, but though Albertine was quite a stuck-up young lady, she refused to leave her father alone in such a place. 'We should never see you again. You would either get lost in this dreadful place, or you would find someone to spend the day with and we would never know where you'd went until a week later to the day.' was her excuse. But Richard knew his daughter well enough to know that, through her reasons that she had promised her mother - bless her mother's peaceful soul - to care for him, that was her way of saying that she worried about him. She wanted to care for him as best she could, but her pride got in the way often.

As they through the many aisles, Albertine grew tired, and said that she would go sit down. Richard recalled this easy tiredness, but said nothing, only smiling, as he told her he would not go far. 'Well, I suppose that I should be happy for them, even if she herself does not admit to their happiness....' Richard thought to himself as she left and he reached for a book of the history of some nation he had only heard of. Another book caught his eye, but turned out to be another book of fake history, and nothing exciting. Then he saw a book title that made him smile inside. 'Pride and Prejudice. Ah, I wonder what this shall do. Jane Austen... sounds vaguely familiar.' His eyes rose to see a young woman walk out of that particular aisle with a broad grin, holding another novel by the same author, Jane Austen, in her small stack. Raising an eyebrow with a slight smile on his face, Richard wheeled slowly behind her.

"Do you know the author well, Miss? This... Jane Austen I mean?" he said, vaguely trying to make conversation, yet gather the information that he desired. "I have one here, and from what I have heard, it is an interesting novel. I saw you pick another one up quite happily.... twas why I inquired. Please excuse me if I am mistaken."

Richard Bingley

Richard saw the look of complete excitement coming across the young lady’s face when he asked about the author. “Oh, yes, sir! Jane Austen is my favorite author. Her stories are just beautiful. Which one have you got there, sir? Oh! Pride and Prejudice! That’s one of my favorites. It’s a wonderfully exquisite novel about true love…” The girl began, stopping just to blush before she opened her mouth once more to release a long string of words. “but it’s so much more than that! It’s also about family, and first impressions, and…oh, sir, it’s just a wonderful book. I do believe you’d enjoy it, sir, if you read it. Miss Austen is such a talented writer. She just puts so much…life into her characters, if you know what I mean?”

“Family and first impressions, oh?” Bingley put in as she paused, a wide grin on his face.

She laughed, and Ricky chuckled lightly. “Oh, forgive me, sir, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” she asked, and Ricky nodded.

“Ah yes, but it is perfectly fine with me, Miss. The more talk you can create on your end, the less one-sided the conversation may seem before we are done.” the man replied, his smile still broad.

“My name is Rebecca Appleton, sir, and I do hope you enjoy the book.” Rebecca said, extending her hand to him. Ricky moved forward slightly and shook her hand.

“It is a true pleasure to meet someone so lovely as yourself, on a day of such wonderful convenience.” he told her, laughing. He sighed, leaning back a bit into his chair. “Miss Rebecca. Well, I am Richard Bingley.”

Catherine Bingley

With a furious and dramatic flair did Catherine enter the local library. She knew her husband would be there; such an eccentric as he was, and such was the thin track of his wheeled chair in the light mud eternally covering every inch of Helvaband because of the weather so kind in loudly declaring. Mr. Crane tossed her an exasperated look that dared her to make a fuss, but she returned to him such an expression that left the man wondering if looks could really kill. He found her husband quite amiable – as did many of those in Helvaband – but Mrs. Bingley herself made small children cry and hide when she was in a temper. Oh, she was kind enough when you were on her good side. But with her constant squabbles with her daughter recently, it had been rare to find her in any decent mood.

Mrs. Bingley had never been an extraordinary beauty. She had been pretty as a young girl – pretty enough to gain attentions to enlarge her pride to enormous heights – and married at a decent age, but her beauty had quickly faded after the birth of her first daughter, Albertine Bingley. Her daughter had not only inherited her mother’s flaming hair; she had the temper to match.

“Mr. Bingley!“ She snarled and hissed at him, her face turning rosy from her quick stomp through the countryside coupled with her anger. A muffled ‘shh’ from Mr. Crane. Catherine came to stand in front of her husband, placing her hands on her hips and giving him a livid glare. “You have to talk to that simpering child of yours! She simply won’t listen to a word I say! How can you expect me to survive such a temper as that?!”

With a start Catherine realized that her husband was not alone. A young woman was standing nearby, and Mrs. Bingley quickly struggled to regain some dignity. Tucking her stray red hair out of her face, she offered a small, apologetic smile to the girl. “I apologize, child. I did not see you there. It’s just that…” she sighed, the sound strained and her entire form loudly declaring her annoyance of her rebellious little girl. Catherine turned back to her husband. “You have to talk to her, my dear. If you don’t get her to listen to some sense, I am going to send that child off to as near a convent I can find, and then we shall see where her sarcasm gets her!”

Richard Bingley raised his eyebrows when Rebecca mentioned the similarities between his surname and the name of Mr. Charles Bingley in Pride and Prejudice, and when she mentioned that she preferred Mister Darcy but found Mister Bingley quite charming all the same. “Well, if he is not one of your preference, then he must not be very charming.” he said, laughing softly. “But I shall take your word on it, my dear.”

Rebecca laughed as well. "Oh, Mister Bingley in the book is very sweet, but I prefer Mister Darcy because...he has more depth to his character, and I find him much more romantic." She shrugged good-naturedly, then asked Mister Bingley what sort of books he enjoyed reading.

A slow smile lit up Mister Bingley's features as he said, “Any book that is recommended to me, I am a bit ashamed to say. If one of my friends recommends it, I cannot bear to refuse, by nature. So I end up with a lap full of books. Or I did. I have recently moved back to Helvaband, and already have many books to read. One from my daughter and a whole body of work that you have just recommended.” Rebecca grinned back and was about to say something when a shout echoed through the otherwise silent library. “Mr. Bingley!“

A very angry-looking woman strode into view, her red hair flying about every which way in her haste. A worried look crossed Mister Bingley's face, but in the next instant his kind smile replaced it. “Well, welcome back to Helvaband, my dear wife!” he said. Oh, that would be Mrs. Bingley, then... “What is the matter?” Mister Bingley asked. A strange look came over him after that...a look of pure love and adoration. Rebecca had seen this look on her father's face when he was looking at her mother, and took great pleasure in teasing him about it. To an eleven-year-old, it had just seemed comical. Now, though, she found it the most romantic thing she had ever seen.

“You have to talk to that simpering child of yours! She simply won’t listen to a word I say! How can you expect me to survive such a temper as that?!” the woman--Mrs. Bingley--hissed at her husband.

Mister Bingley just chuckled. “Darling, you know how alike you two are. I have survived your temper for quite some time, and much more than alive am I today.”

At these words, it was all Rebecca could do to keep from laughing aloud. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley they may be, but to me they seem more like Mr. and Mrs. Bennet! She's shouting, he's gently teasing her...she's complaining about her daughter, and he's mentioning her temper. Yes, they're just like the Bennets!

Mrs. Bingley noticed her then, and smiled an embarassed sort of smile. “I apologize, child. I did not see you there. It’s just that…” She sighed. "It's alright..." Rebecca said softly.

The red-haired woman turned back to her husband. “You have to talk to her, my dear. If you don’t get her to listen to some sense, I am going to send that child off to as near a convent I can find, and then we shall see where her sarcasm gets her!”

With another laugh, Mister Bingley took his wife's arm and kissed her hand softly. "Cathy... “Calm down. I will speak to her, darling. Worry not, worry not. You have just returned. Do try to not make decisions before you have settled in your thoughts. No doubt you are flustered with the move, and need to rest yourself. Come, do not frustrate yourself on such a subject, and do speak to this lovely young lady who I have just been honored with the aquaintance of.” He looked over at Rebecca, who smiled at the two of them. “This is Miss Rebecca Appleton, a young woman who makes wonderful conversation, especially when it is of things that would be of very little stress to yourself. Come and speak to her.”

"It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Bingley," she said, with only a hint of her usual shyness. "I was just speaking to your husband here about the merits of Jane Austen's novels. Have you read any of them?"

Richard Bingley

Richard smiled, for he had successfully calmed his wife down and then cheered her up again. ‘How I do it, I do not know, but it makes her happy, so I shall continue doing what ever it is that I am doing.’ “Well, it is a very great pleasure to meet you, Ms. Appleton!” Cathy said with a grin.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Bingley,” Miss Rebecca said. “I was just speaking to your husband here about the merits of Jane Austen’s novels. Have you read any of them?”

Richard looked over to see Cathy nod. “I have thoroughly enjoyed her writing. My favorite is the story of Sense and Sensibility. Her novels I have found captivating and very fine, though sometimes her ideas of romanticism isn’t well accepted in society. Such a difficult lifestyle, she must have.” she said, and that sparkle entered her eye. Richard knew it, and he moved backwards slightly as Cathy closed the distance between her and the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You appear to be a very sweet girl. You simply must come join my family for dinner sometime, for we should have a splendid evening! Do you happen to have a beau to bring along with you? I should not be surprised, with such a sweet countenance as you have.”

Richard laughed. “As far as my knowledge goes, she had not a beau, and she needs you to find her a suitable suitor. My darling, do you know of anyone to fit?” he said with wide grin. “I’m sure that the… the Hawkins boy. Cody is it? He would suit her well, would he not?”

Catherine Bingley

“She is my favorite author, I think. I’m not sure if I could really choose a favorite of her books…perhaps Pride and Prejudice, but I also adore Mansfield Park as well. And Sense and Sensibility…I always felt I could relate to Margaret and Marianne Dashwood. Miss Austen’s heroines are always so inspiring. Some of my mother’s friends never really approved of the books, though, for the reasons you’ve mentioned.” Rebecca shrugged and smiled. “But I love them so.”

Throughout her small speech, a glint appeared in Catherine’s eye. Rebecca’s character shone through as pure and kind, a ‘kindred spirit’ that Catherine could not help but take under her over-bearing wing. She invited the girl over for dinner.

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Bingley! I would like that very much.” The girl said with a brilliant expression. Naturally, Catherine opted to leave room open for another guest, if Rebecca already had a special someone, and (as she expected for such a demure girl, who through no fault of her own would not have the experience to snag herself a man as of yet) the girl answered with a blush, and the words, “I…well, actually…”

Her husband laughed. “As far as my knowledge goes, she had not a beau, and she needs you to find her a suitable suitor. My darling, do you know of anyone to fit? I’m sure that the… the Hawkins boy. Cody is it? He would suit her well, would he not?”

Not taking her gaze off of Rebecca, Catherine nodded. “My thoughts exactly, dear husband! Two very kindly souls.”

Rebecca seemed thrown by this turn of conversation – as Catherine also expected and took in stride – “No, I don’t have a suitor…I…I have met the boy you spoke of, though, Cody Hawkins. He seemed very nice…um…I believe that my friend has her eye on him already, though, so I really couldn’t…um…”

Catherine smiled kindly at the girl, in the way an aunt would her beloved niece when she has done something adorable and endearing. Patting Rebecca gently on the cheek, she whispered, “Don’t fret, darling. It is just a suggestion. Let us move on to other subjects. When can we expect you for supper, I wonder? Let me see…I can have a proper dinner prepared for you tomorrow, if you like. What do you think, Mr. Bingley?” She turned over her shoulder to wink at her husband. A plan was forming in the Mrs. Bingley’s eye.

As Rebecca managed to nervously stammer out that Florence had her eye on Cody, Mister Bingley leaned towards her in his wheeled-chair with a smile. “Then I highly suggest you hurry up! He is quite the catch!”he said, chuckling. Rebecca blushed again, quite certain that by now her face more or less resembled a tomato or a strawberry.

Mrs. Bingley gave Rebecca a kind, motherly smile and put a gentle hand to her cheek. “Don’t fret, darling. It is just a suggestion. Let us move on to other subjects. " With a weak smile and a nod, Rebecca allowed herself to relax, hoping that Mrs. Bingley would soon forget her lack of a suitor.

For some reason, that didn't seem likely.

When can we expect you for supper, I wonder? Let me see…I can have a proper dinner prepared for you tomorrow, if you like. What do you think, Mr. Bingley?” She turned toward her husband, and Rebecca could have sworn that she saw the red-haired woman wink at her husband, as if the two of them shared some sort of secret.

Mister Bingley grinned broadly. “Oh, yes, of course. You could set up a dinner for twenty guests the morning they were to be there and you would be no more thought out and splendid than having been told a week in advance,” he said, once again gently teasing his wife. “Yes, yes, tomorrow night should be excellent.”

Rebecca grinned as well. She couldn't help it--the happiness and merriment that the Bingleys radiated was contagious. "Tomorrow night sounds wonderful! I'd love to come. What time should I arrive? And...where do you live? I'm still learning my way around, but I'm usually good at figuring out directions." She paused. "Thank you very much for asking me," she added shyly.

As she stood there, she couldn't shake the feeling that the Bingleys had already begun plotting something--mapping out the future of a shy young woman they had just met. It was a prospect that scared her and excited her at the same time, and, although she was still quite embarrassed--no, mortified is a better word for it-- she was also insatiably curious as to what the Bingleys could possibly be planning.

Catherine Bingley

Her husband boasted her capabilities with a broad grin that she knew well. “Oh, yes, of course. You could set up a dinner for twenty guests the morning they were to be there and you would be no more thought out and splendid than having been told a week in advance,” Catherine beamed, not wishing to even put up a front of denying such a claim. She knew it was unlikely to accomplish such a feat, (though she had always made do with what she was given to the best of her abilities) and both her husband and Rebecca knew it wasn’t an easy task to put a lady to, so why waste breath denying it? “Yes, yes, tomorrow night should be excellent.”

Catherine turned at the sound of Rebecca’s light-voice cutting in to her husband and her silently plotting, likely unaware of the possible ‘dangers’ in her near future. Mrs. Bingley smiled. Such fun it was, matching up eligible males with pretty young girls! She only wished her own daughter was still available, so she may have the pleasure of trying again and again, until she perfected the art. “Tomorrow night sounds wonderful! I’d love to come. What time should I arrive? And…where do you live? I’m still learning my way around, but I’m usually good at figuring out directions.”

“Well,” Catherine began, swooping in to officially take Rebecca under her metaphorical wing, “Since my husband and I are old and familiar with Helvaband – I don’t even begin to deny my age, you see. I am sick, sick, sick of women not understanding that with age comes wisdom – you can just tell us where you are currently staying, and we will send a carriage for you, all tidy-like. They can bring you back whenever you like, and there’s no worrying about directions and getting lost.”

“Thank you very much for asking me,” Rebecca murmured, a demure smile overpowering her features and assuring Catherine that it wouldn’t take much for Cody Hawkins to become enamored with such a darling creature. She was just so darling, there was no telling!

Suddenly, Catherine tossed her hands up into the air, “Oh, Mr. Bingley, dearest! I nearly forgot!” She winked over at Rebecca, “With age comes wisdom, my dear. I’ve said that before, just now. But alas, the good Lord also bestowed upon old people like me the impeccable talent of forgetting things so very, very easily. It is a blessing and a curse. Anyways,” she said, turning to her husband again with a childlike enthusiasm, her voice lifting in volume and pitch, her hands flying expressively into the air, “You simply must send out those invitations for the Easter Ball! Those tricky Lansforth’s have said we may throw this year’s Easter party, but you know how much Mrs. Lansforth desires to show off and make me appear so very…so very…” she struggled for a word, but only found, “Country-bred! I don’t want them stealing my chance at throwing a marvelous party! But there is so little time! I must have the invitations sent out, darling. Or I shall go mad with worry!”

“Well,” said Mrs. Bingley in response to Rebecca's inquiry about when she should arrive for the upcoming dinner party, “Since my husband and I are old and familiar with Helvaband – I don’t even begin to deny my age, you see. I am sick, sick, sick of women not understanding that with age comes wisdom – you can just tell us where you are currently staying, and we will send a carriage for you, all tidy-like. They can bring you back whenever you like, and there’s no worrying about directions and getting lost.”

That bright, joyful grin came over Mister Bingley's face again. “And I shall not deny that my wife is incredibly wonderful.”

Rebecca laughed. "Thank you very much," she said excitedly. "I'm staying at the Helvaband Hotel."

Remembering her manners, she thanked the couple sincerely for inviting her to dine with them. At this, Mister Bingley let out another merry chuckle. “Oh, it is not a bother! My Cathy is always saying that we should have someone over for dinner. My dear… does that remind you of something?" he said suddenly, looking at Mrs. Bingley. "I can’t seem to place on the thing it brings to my attention. Ah, if she were not around, I would forget to wake up in the morning!”

Rebecca laughed again, and looked curiously at the Bingleys for a moment. They still reminded her of the Bennets in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, but there was something about them that reminded her of someone else...if she could only remember who...

Suddenly, Mrs. Bingley threw her hands into the air dramatically. Startled, Rebecca looked at her, but the woman seemed more amused than alarmed. “Oh, Mr. Bingley, dearest! I nearly forgot!” she cried. She let her gaze fall upon Rebecca and offered her a wink. “With age comes wisdom, my dear. I’ve said that before, just now. But alas, the good Lord also bestowed upon old people like me the impeccable talent of forgetting things so very, very easily. It is a blessing and a curse. Anyways,” she turned back to her husband again.

From the front of the library, she heard a man's voice (presumably, the one who had been hiding behind the stacks of books on the front desk) try in vain to quiet Mrs. Bingley, but Mister Bingley shot him a bemused look that appeared to settle the matter. “You simply must send out those invitations for the Easter Ball! Those tricky Lansforth’s have said we may throw this year’s Easter party, but you know how much Mrs. Lansforth desires to show off and make me appear so very…so very… Country-bred! I don’t want them stealing my chance at throwing a marvelous party! But there is so little time! I must have the invitations sent out, darling. Or I shall go mad with worry!”

"An Easter Ball? That sounds wonderful!" Rebecca laughed again. "My goodness, does Helvaband always have this many parties?"

Mister Bingley joined Rebecca in her laughter as he took hold of Mrs. Bingley's arm in a gesture of comfort. “My dear… my dear… calm yourself. I shall get them send out today. Oh, don’t go mad. I need you for my failing memory.”

Stifling her giggles, Rebecca tried once again to recall just who it was that the Bingleys reminded her so much of. They...they're almost like...

Mister Bingley's friendly voice brought her out of her cluttered mind and back into the library. “We should go, dearest. Or I shall never get those invitations done before Summer.” Rebecca nodded as the man allowed his eyes to meet hers. “It was a pleasure meeting you. You could bet that I shall be chasing after Cathy all day tomorrow, for she shall be going simply out of her mind"

Rebecca smiled warmly. "It was a pleasure meeting the two of you as well. Thanks again for inviting me to dinner--I look forward to it very much! I'll see you tomorrow."

Mister Bingley took his wife's hand, saying simply, "Come, darling."

And in that moment, Rebecca realized who it was that Richard and Catherine Bingley reminded her of.

Mother and Father.

_{ooc: nic/drake planned interaction is love : DDD bic:}

Nicolas Dubon

The smell of dust and aged books permeated the air as Nicolas entered the library. He was not a great fan of reading but it was the slowly passing days like the today he found he could busy himself on almost anything.

He eyed Mr. Crane with mild interest as the librarian appeared occupied with a book at hand as he closed the door quietly. The sight of stacked literature surrounding the man’s desk caused memories of his previous visit to return, his first meeting with the fine Heather Fleming.

The book she had commented on, “Real vampyres”, he recalled, he hadn’t had a chance to read. ‘Better now than never.’ He thought, sighing. Maybe he could waste some time flipping through it, it wasn’t like there was anything better for him to do.

Nicolas was still curious with vampyres. His few times spent with Ambrose had not given him any chances to see his friend’s vampyre abilities and he did not feel it right to ask. And then there was Mlle Lilith who always seemed to be more mysterious every time he began to think he understood her. His moment with her at the Valentine’s ball had been oddly fulfilling yet he continued to fear wanting more interaction. One can wonder if she really was who she appeared to be. “But of course I’m over thinking things.” Nicolas murmured.

Walking at an eased pace through the shelves, he searched for his book, unaware of the new guest arriving.

Nicolas Dubon

Nicolas grinned as he found the book cramped at the side of the shelf. The feel of satisfaction came to him as he held the object in his hand.

“Pardon me, Mister Dubon.” Someone said behind him. Nicolas turned from his place facing the shelves, a nameless man in front of him catching his eye. He tried to hide the look of being caught off guard as best he could. Observing at the stranger, he could not sense anything of danger from him.

The male did not look that much older than him, perhaps by a few years. Nicolas wondered how he must have known his name, a peculiar source from the way the man looked at him with fascination, he noted. ‘What could this man want with me?’ He appeared completely harmless. Yet his name used, he found the reason might not be simple.

“Hello.” Nicolas said; confusion clear in his voice. “And who might you be?”

Nicolas Dubon

“Hello, Mister Dubon, I’m Drake Dekker.” The man introduced, out stretching his hand towards him. Continuing to observe this Drake Dekker, Nicolas shook his hand.

“A pleasure.” He nodded curtly. The amiable nature of the man was beginning to be a little unnerving or it could be fact that the man’s intentions were still unclear.

“I apologize if I startled you; Miss Narcissa had given me your name a little while back and I’ve yet the opportunity to meet you properly.” Drake explained. Nicolas blinked, surprised to hear Narcissa’s name. There encounter at the Christmas party had not been the greatest and he wondered what she must have said about him. And there was Mr. Dekker, who now was obviously seeking some sort of information from him and on him. He put it to high priority to be careful with this man as he was still unsure of just what type of person Drake Dekker was.

“Ah, Mlle Narcissa, lovely lady she is.” Nicolas commented. “And what interest may you have in me, Mr. Dekker, to be asking her of my name?” His voice calm, he hoped the mysterious man did not find it too forward of him asking.

“I see you’ve already befriended our old literature.” Drake said making light conversation. Nicolas followed along with the man; perhaps make the man unaware of his cautiousness to converse.

“Yes, a very good selection of books they have here in Helvaband if I do say so myself.” Nicolas forced a grin. “Particularly the ones of mythical creatures. I’m a man always curious of non existing things, so it’s rather satisfying to be here.” He paused, thinking of a way to figure out Drake’s intentions. For all he knew could might as well be a tool being used by him for information on someone else. The same way Narcissa might have been used. “Yet with all the information in these books, one can believe there are things like this wandering the streets or woods. Do you believe Mr. Dekker?”

Nicolas Dubon

When Nicolas asked Drake what were his intentions with him, there was something in the man’s voice that made his words seem…not untrue… but incomplete. “I was simply wondering. You see, many people have been attracted to Helvaband as of late, and not knowing your neighbors is on my list of things I wish to avoid.” He shrugged. His words not very convincing on Nicolas’s part, he questioned the man further. As they moved onto literature, he asked if Drake believed in the strange creatures from the book in his hand, the look of doubt was splayed on the other male’s face as he arched his brow. “Mr. Dubon, I think you’ve caught yourself in a contradiction. You say your curiosity lies in those tales of the non-existent, and then you ask me if I believe them to be real?”

“Perhaps I’m wondering if you are an open minded man.” This time Nicolas shrugged, waving his hand at a casual motion.

“I don’t mean to dash ideas; please don’t misunderstand me, but those kind of creatures are only wandering the streets and woods bound between those pages in your hands there.” The man pointed at the book in his hand and laughed lightly. Nicolas hid the relief he felt as he found the man a non believer in fictional creature yet remained precarious in his company. He was being overly paranoid as usual. Drake continued, “Unless you’ve had the pleasure of meeting one of these mythologies yourself?” Nicolas’ face dropped momentarily at the man’s question. Not sure of his next move.

“Would my answer effect how you regard them now, Mr. Dekker?” He inquired calmly. “or even me as well?” He sought his importance to Drake Dekker, wished to see if he did wish to simply know the people wandering Helvaband these days, or if it was something much more. “I hope not to disappoint you, but I haven’t.” He lied raising the book at hand to the questioned man. “As you said, these creatures only wander the world of this object here.”

Nicolas Dubon

“Of course, who would expect otherwise?” Drake nodded. Nicolas watched as Drake wandered to the shelves, his eyes flashing back and forth as he read through the titles. Nicolas had decided that it would be best to break all interest that Mr. Dekker had in him. The subject of creatures was a dangerous one to partake for him. “I think it would be interesting. You know, to meet one of these… people. Satyrs, Warlocks, Sprites, Werewolves, Fauns, Vampires, what have you…” Drake said, drawing out a book and flipping through it. Nicolas grinned. The scene so similar to the time he first met Ambrose. His friend asking him of his interests in vampyres, Drake’s answer was rather close to his own.

“Their lives would be very different from ours.” Dekker continued to flip through the book. He continued to listen. “Their minds, their hearts. Everything. I think it would be fascinating.” Drake closed the book abruptly and returned his gaze at Nicolas.

“But wouldn’t you feel your life threatened, if by chance you encounter a creature such as a vampyre or a werewolf?” Nicolas questioned seriously, though letting out a hint of a smile at the end. “Or would that just add more thrill and fascination Drake?”

He set the book at hand aside on the shelves, growing tired of holding it. “You are an intriguing man, Drake Dekker. But I wonder,” He paused momentarily, his tone more curious as he continued. “What does a man like you do besides attaining yourself with the people of Helvaband?”

_{ooc: my son is scared of officers >: bic:}

Nicolas Dubon

Nicolas felt the corner of his month twitch at the sound of Drake’s chuckle. “That is a highly theoretical hypothesis, Mr. Dubon.” He breathed deeply the room’s air before continuing with a tone of voice filled with wonder. “I can’t say what I might do… I think it would make for a great experiment, nonetheless.”

“I’m quite sure.” Nicolas added, his head tilting to the side in amusement. When he commented Mr. Dekker of his interesting personality and life, the man’s grin once again sparked some sort of caution in him.

“I comprise the entirety of Helvaband’s constabulary,” Drake said with a feel of false pride in his words. ‘An officer?’ Nicolas furrowed his brow briefly before making a face of fake impress. He was not one that enjoyed the company of officers. They were too prying, too over assuming at times for him. But Dekker did not need to know that of him. Should he show too many opens signs of discomfort around Drake, the officer may begin meddling in his affairs.

“That’s rather impressive.” Nicolas said in feign awe. “I suppose your inquiring of me is not all personal interest then. I am not as mysterious as some would think, and I would hate to see your free time here completely wasted.”

“And yourself, Mr. Dubon?” Drake asked.

“I am a just simple nobleman exploring Helvaband.” Nicolas said plainly. “Not as interesting as the life of an officer, I’m sure, but I suppose it’s satisfying.”

Silence seemed to find its way between the two men and Nicolas was beginning to think his presence in the library prolonged and the officer’s inquiring making him fatigued of acting and lying. Picking up his book from the shelves, he gave Mr. Dekker a curt nod. “It is nice meeting Drake, put I believe I should go, places left to explore.” He wandered his way from the shelves and turned his head at Drake. “Perhaps we may see each other another time soon.”

Nicolas has left the library

Grinning broadly, Thomas entered the Helvaband Library. The door banged shut after his enthusiastic entrance, and the man sitting behind the large desk nearby jumped, looking up from the thick novel in his hands in alarm. Thomas laughed loudly. "Ah, my dear Mister Crane! Simply lovely to see you again! As you can see, we're back in town once again!"

Alan Crane narrowed his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, yes, yes, welcome back, Mister Pontmerc--oh, I beg your pardon. Your Grace." His tone of voice could not hide the sarcasm hidden within his comment. Thomas's grin did not falter, but he was a little offended. He was extremely proud of his status as the Duke of Rayham, and not only had Mister Crane forgotten his title, but he had acted scornful upon remembering it. He tried to shake off the feeling as the man spoke again.

"It's very nice to see you too, but this is a library, Your Grace! A quiet environment, where people can seek solace and comfort in the soothing pages of books! Must I remind you of this fact every time I see you?

Thomas shook his head. "I suppose you must!" He looked around the library, a familiar sight after so many years of visiting Helvaband. "I'm a free spirit, Alan--impossible to tame. Or quiet." He chuckled again, and the older man shook his head, clearly irritated.

"Well, you are clearly busy...I shall just go and peruse the shelves, won't I? I will do my best not to disturb the...what was it? The 'people seeking solace in a book.' " Crane grunted a bit, rolling his eyes, and Thomas's eyes narrowed slightly. He watched as the man returned to his book (The Count of Monte Cristo, Thomas noted), and then he too turned to wander the library.

He ran his hand along a shelf as he walked, reading titles but not really taking any of them in. Crane's behaviour to him still stung a bit. He wasn't used to being treated this way in the slightest.

His hand caught a novel that had not been returned to the shelf properly, and it clattered to the floor. Cringing at the noise it made, he waited for Crane's inevitable reprimand. He was met with only a loud sigh. He bent to pick it up, grumbling the whole time. Who did that man think he was?

The book had clearly been read many times, the pages gently bent at the corners. Thomas flipped through it, then glanced at the title. Frankenstein. Interesting.

He tucked the book under his arm and walked on.

Thomas hadn't gone very far when he felt something on his shoulder, a light tap, as if someone wanted his attention but was being rather timid about it. “Pardon me…” a quiet voice said in his ear. Thomas turned around and saw a man standing behind him, curiousity barely disguised in his eyes. Thomas smiled and studied the man. He looked older than him for the most part, and his eyes were slightly downcast. “What is that book you have there? I don’t believe I have heard of it before…” A faint shadow of a smile crossed the man's face. “Forgive me if I am bothering you, but… the title intrigued me.”

The man looked nervous, and Thomas detected a hint of uncertainty about his person. And in his eyes...they seemed melancholy in a way, as if the man had seen something that had saddened him very greatly. Thomas's curiousity grew. What was this strange man's story?

Thomas smiled, hoping to make the man feel more at ease. "Not to worry, you're not bothering me at all. In fact, I'm rather glad you spoke to me--I hate silence." He laughed a bit. "Now, about the book...Frankenstein is the title. I've never read it, but my brother Charles has...from what I hear, it's about a monster of some sort. I'm not really sure though...it just looked interesting, so I picked it up." He shrugged, then remembered his manners. "Forgive me...I haven't even introduced myself. Thomas Pontmercy." He paused for a moment. "Duke of Rayham." He held out his hand for the man to shake.

Many people would consider Thomas a bit conceited after a remark like that, but he, quite frankly, did not care. He knew he wasn't.

The man smiled, saying that if Thomas did not enjoy silence then he was not surprised that he did not always get along with Alan Crane, the librarian. Thomas laughed. "I wouldn't say we're on bad terms, necesarily...just that our personalities sometimes clash. He's a good man, just...don't get on his bad side!"

Thomas provided the man with a brief but effective explanation of the book he had picked up, Frankenstein, and then introduced himself, adding his title seemingly as an afterthought.

The man bowed, and Thomas widened his eyes a bit. Usually, he did not get that sort of reception in Helvaband, and certainly not in the library. For reasons he couldn't quite understand, it made him a bit uncomfortable. “It is a please to meet you, Duke Pontmercy,” he said. Thomas held up his hands and shook his head, still smiling.

"You don't need to do that, or call me that, really. Thomas will do just fine. Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I even mention it, really. Maybe it's because...I need to say it aloud to know that it's real. Sometimes it feels like this is all just a dream, and I'm going to wake up and be the same person I was before." “I am Royce Haggins, and I am about as important as the trees here. Only important if you can find a good use for me,” the man continued, a strange look coming over his face.

"Nice to meet you, Royce," Thomas replied, once again holding out his hand for the man to shake. "I must say, though, that I disagree with your previous statement. I personally believe that everyone is important in some way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOC: Interactions planned here between Rebecca and Sybille!

BIC:

Rebecca Appleton

Rebecca strode over to the librarian's desk, greeting him softly. He looked up from his dog-eared copy of the Odyssey and smiled at her. "Can I help you, Miss?"

Gently, Rebecca placed two books on the desk. "I'm returning these...but, Mister Crane, may I please keep Miss Austen's Persuasion for just one more week?" She smiled hopefully.

Mister Crane laughed, then looked down onto his ledger which lay open on the table. "Yes, of course. Enjoying it, are you?" Rebecca nodded. "Jane Austen is a brilliant author, she really is."

"I agree!" said Crane. "And... he looked down at the books she had handed him. "Ah. Dickens. A Tale of Two Cities, one of my personal favorites."

"I greatly enjoyed that as well. Mister Dickens is wonderful at description."

Rebecca and Mister Crane chatted for a few more moments before Rebecca allowed the man to return to his book and began to browse the familiar, dark wood shelves. The library was quickly becoming one of her favorite places in Helvaband. As she walked, a soft smile illuminated her features.

"Intresting choices. There is only one well known name here. Did you mean that?" Rebecca heard Mister Crane say skeptically. She looked around and saw a young woman standing in front of the librarian's desk. The woman was slight and pale, almost ghostlike in the dim light of the library, and she looked rather tired.

The woman looked up at Rebecca and smiled, a soft half-smile that Rebecca knew quite well--it was the same one she herself wore when meeting strangers. "Hello, I am Syllble Jallet, I just arrived here in Helvaband." Rebecca blinked, taken aback. Despite the friendliness of people in Helvaband, she didn't know if any of them had ever introduced themselves to her so quickly. It was almost unnerving.

Overcome with new shyness, Rebecca looked down a bit. "Hello," she replied quietly. "I'm Rebecca Appleton."

The two girls were silent for a while, and as Rebecca looked closer she realized just how frail the girl looked. She was dreadfully thin and her hair hung limp about her face. She looked as if she hadn't slept in weeks.

"I see you enjoy Jane Austen too," said Sybille, and Rebecca's eyes lit up. "oh, yes, very much! Miss Austen is my favorite author."

The smile on Sybille's face grew warmer after Rebecca introduced herself, and mentioned that Jane Austen was her favorite author. Rebecca, too, felt herself growing more interested in this girl--finally, someone who shared her interests. Sybille closed her eyes and said, pointing to Persuasion, which lay cradled in Rebecca's arms, "'My idea of good company...is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversa tion; that is what I call good company.' Thats from that book, right?"

Rebecca laughed and nodded. "Yes, yes it is! Very good.''You are mistaken,' said he gently,' "she said, finishing the quote. "'That is not good company, that is the best.'” She looked down at her book. "Persuasion is very good, it's true, but I would have to say my favorite is either Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility. Do you have a favorite?"

Rebecca smiled at the girl again. "You said you are new to Helvaband? So am I! I've been here for a while, though...I must say that I love it here." She quoted Miss Austen again. "'"Wherever you are you should always be contented, but especially at home, because there you must spend the most of your time.'" She blushed a bit. "That's from Northanger Abbey."

“Pride and Prejudice, I'm afraid, is the only book I can stand after reading it once," Sybille said in reply to Rebecca's question. "Everything else is so… well, words are meant to be read, but I’m afraid I have little patience for those repeated.”

Rebecca laughed again. "Ah, it would seem that I am quite the opposite, then. I adore reading them over and over--I always find that I learn something new each time. And after reading them so many times, I really do feel as if the characters are my best friends."

Rebecca then mentioned that both of them were new to Helvaband. “ Yes, I am quite new. I just arrived yesterday.” She sighed and looked down. “Although I am already home-sick.”

She gave Sybille a comforting look. "It will soon pass, don't worry." I wasn't homesick...not really. Was I really that anxious to get out of there? I suppose I was...home felt like a prison without Mother. Although...I believe I do miss Father, just a bit. I wonder if he got my letter? If he did...why didn't he reply? Does he not care that I deliberately went against his wished and came here, instead of dutifully going off to that dreadful boarding school?

After Rebecca quoted Northanger Abbey, Sybille nodded as if she agreed with the quote. “I will learn to like it here, hopefully. If the whole of this town is anything like you, I believe I will grow to love it .” Rebecca grinned. "I'm sure you will! So...where are you staying? I'm staying at the Hotel, myself--it's very nice. But I haven't seen you there...do you have relatives in Helvaband?"

"I am staying with my Uncle Thibault. Thibault Jallet. He is my father's younger brother," Sybille replied. Rebecca nodded, taking note of the name. Sybille's smile faded a bit, and she lowered her gaze as sadness filled her eyes. "Although, I cannot see how neither my father nor I are related to him, he has but four books in his house, and I have read them all. Even here" she paused and gestured with her hand, " I will most likley run out of new things to read."

"Only four books? How can a person live like that?" Rebecca said, only half-joking.

"And what else is there for me to do to pass the time?" Sybille asked.

Rebecca thought for a moment. "Well...actually, in Helvaband the main pastime is socializing. They're always out making calls and talking to people...but there are other things to do, of course. Browsing the little shops are always fun, even though there are not many of them...and from what I've heard, Helvaband's citizens enjoy many, many parties. There are also bonfires held every once in a while in the main square of town, I'm told. Or...exploring. Helvaband is filled with mysterious places...there are moors, and caves, and the woods...even an abandoned opera house." She grinned. "I daresay you'll find plenty of things to occupy your time, Sybille."

Sybille met Rebecca's words with a laugh, but it was not genuine. .“I would love to do many of these things, but I’m afraid what I meant was: What else is there for me to do in my medical condition?” She lowered her gaze, looking dejected. Rebecca's eyes filled with concern. "Medical condition? What--I'm afraid I don't understand, Sybille..."

“I’m very weak. I have been since I was very young. I’m sorry, thank you very much for your help.” With that, Sybille retrieved her books from Mister Crane. Gently, Rebecca reached out and put a hand on her new friend's shoulder. "You don't have to leave..." she said.

She offered a small smile. I wonder what's wrong with her...whatever it is, it can't be too bad, since she's up and about now. Just because she's ill and weak doesn't mean she can't enjoy herself, though...Mother was the same way, but she still didn't let her condition control what she did. Yes, there were times that she was confined to bed, but at other times...

"Whatever condition you have, I don't think it should effect what you do that much. I mean, after all, you're here now, aren't you? You know, you remind me of my mother, Sybille. She was weak and sick often, too. My birth was rather difficult on her, you see. That's why I have...this." She gestured to the birthmark covering the majority of her right cheek. "And afterwards she was never the same. It left her weak, and frail, and very prone to disease. But she didn't always let that stop her. If she felt well enough, she was always out and about...making calls on friends, going to the opera, even having adventures in the garden with me! And when she was confined to bed, she made the most of that, too. You can still have fun, Sybille." She looked out the window and laughed. "And, if it ever stops raining, I think the country air here in Helvaband will do wonders for you."

"Whatever condition you have, I don't think it should effect what you do that much. I mean, after all, you're here now, aren't you? You know, you remind me of my mother, Sybille. She was weak and sick often, too. My birth was rather difficult on her, you see. That's why I have...this." Rebecca motioned towards her face. Sybille could'nt help but stare. How could I have not seen that? I feel so stupid! she thought while Rebecca talked.

"And afterwards she was never the same. It left her weak, and frail, and very prone to disease. But she didn't always let that stop her. If she felt well enough, she was always out and about...making calls on friends, going to the opera, even having adventures in the garden with me! And when she was confined to bed, she made the most of that, too. You can still have fun, Sybille." She looked out the window. "And, if it ever stops raining, I think the country air here in Helvaband will do wonders for you."

"Thank you, Rebecca." She felt herself smile... this time happily. It was her first genuine smile in what seemed like forever. "Perhaps, when the rain stops, we could explore?" Sybille offered softly. "If you are not too busy, that is..." She leafed through one of her books, hoping she had made a friend.