Outside of a Dog| INACTIVE

[benvolio]

The thing Ben liked best about libraries was the smell. He could appreciate the atmosphere of the cheery, well-lit reading rooms, and the sounds of hushed page-turning and the occaisional whisper, but the slightly musty smell of old books never failed to put him at ease.

He could just as easily have been at home now, in the Montague private library. It had a truly remarkable collection; thousands and thousands of books amassed by the family over the years. Some were the latest bestsellers; others rare first-editions bought at auctions for ridiculous sums. One of Ben's great-uncles was as much of a bibliophile as Ben in his day, and spent lots of time and money adding to the family collection. In short, there was no way that this public library had any books that Ben couldn't find at home.

However, it had two main selling points. First, the library at home had ambience, but it wasn't nearly so cheery. Second, and in Ben's mind, far more importantly, he could actually get quality, uninterrupted reading time. It wasn't as though he didn't like Romeo or Mercutio, but the two had an uncanny habit of dragging him away from his reading right at the climactic moment. Coming back to it later was never the same.

He wandered through the aisles of books until he found the perfect spot: a comfy-looking chair nestled in an alcove behind a row of shelves. He sank into the chair, pulling his feet up and throwing them over the arms. It was an odd habit, he knew, and people tended to look at him oddly for it, but he just preferred to sit sideways. He made to open the book he had chosen to read- Kafka on the Shore, which had been recommended to him as "just about the weirdest book you'll ever read- but stopped, reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone. He flipped it open and turned it off, then returned it to his pocket. There! Perhaps for once he would be able to read without any interruptions...

He opened the book and began to read.

[isabel]

Diana looked around as she crossed over the threshold of the library. Instantly her should bag just brushed the doorway and the librarian behind the tower of books on the front desk made a loud shushing sound. Diana planted an incredulous look on her face as she flicked her index finger over in the direction of an unsuspecting student, most likely a freshman. The librarian managed to cast an angry glance to the student and a knowing look to Diana all in the space of one second. Diana laughed inwardly at her blaming someone else for her folly. It was too much fun to be cruel sometimes!

She knew exactly where she was headed. Straight back to nearly the corner of the library, she still wasn't lost in its large space, full of old, dusty books that sometimes made her happy and sometimes brought back too many odd memories that she couldn't place with an actual date. She supposed it was yet another past happening that she had blocked out of her mind. After all, eyes are placed in front because it's more important to look ahead than to linger in the past. That was Diana's philosophy, and she was sticking to it.

She rounded the aisle that she was headed for, slowly striding through the expectant books, looking for something interesting. This was the only aisle in the whole library that was worth anything in Diana's eyes. It was the aisle of nature, biology. And whereas it might sound boring to those who Diana called stupid, it was her life.

It was as she was lost in her own reverie while walking down the aisle that she managed to loose where she was going and bump straight into a guy's legs, as they were conveniently slung over the arm of the chair in which he was seated. Her eyes grew wide with surprise, and then anger as she searched for a reason that it could be the guy's fault.

She was just about to open her mouth when the chorus to 'Dance Floor Anthem' rang up into the silent air of the peaceful library. And then surprise flooded back into her blue eyes and she reached for her bag, knowing it was most likely one of her professors or something. But she couldn't find the phone, even though she was fumbling desperately in the bag, with the the guy's eyes most likely glued to her, watching her in her misery.

Where was the phone?!

[meh, sorry it's so bad. Thought I'd have a convo with you, if you don't mind... if you do, then I can delete! song/phone ringer: m.youtube.com/index?desktop_uri=%2F&gl=US#/results?client=mv-google&q=dance%20floor%20anthem&aq=0&oq=dance%20floor%20 )

[benvolio]

Ben should have known that he would jinx himself. He was as doomed as the oracle Cassandra in his own way- actually, now that he thought about it, they were quite a lot alike. She was doomed to fortell the truth and never be believed. He, in turn, always foresaw disaster in pretty much everything, but nobody ever took his advice either. But at least Cassandra probably had a minute to herself...

An unfair comparison? Assuredly. But that didn't stop Ben from inwardly moaning about it.

He had finally sunk deeply into his book- Antonio had been right, it was by far the strangest thing he had ever read; it even topped James Joyce's Ulysses- when something jarred his leg violently. It didn't precisely hurt, but he couldn't help but say a sharp, "Ouch!" It was more of a reflex than anything. He also somehow managed to drop his book.

He leaned over to pick it up. As he raised his head again, he met the bright blue eyes of the person who had jostled him. The eyes belonged to a pretty blonde who looked about his age, if not a few years younger. Ben was rather confused by the outright hostility in her eyes; did she blame him for being there to bump into?

For several awkward seconds the pair stayed like that, just staring at each other. Finally, the girl opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by a loud burst of music.

Ben winced; he could see people swiveling around in their seats to find the source of the noise. This was yet another reason to turn one's cell phone off before coming it! He watched in sympathy as the girl frantically dug in her bag in vain, looking more and more uncomfortable as the phone continued to ring.

Suddenly, Ben noticed something. "Um..." just as he was started to speak, the phone mercifully stopped ringing.

"Your phone is in your pocket, I think." he said, somewhat apologetically. He could see the top of it sticking out, and the shape of the rest of it stuck out from the rest of her clothing.

[isabel]

Diana had to wonder why it was her luck that always had to be her downfall in life. She wasn't the one to think about other's or consider their good humour, but she always made sure to normally switch her phone to vibrate in case anyone should call and annoy her. And of course she had forgotten today, and of course she had been so clumsy as to run into some guy who didn't know how to sit in a chair properly. She searched for a reason of all of this odd behaviour, until she settled on that librarian. she must have been the one to distrupt her daily ruetine. After all, the woman had up and decided to shush her for a petty reason!

Satisfied that she had found someone to blame, Diana still managed to hear the animated whispers of the other people in the library, all most likely talking about her. She heaved an angry sigh, still not finding her phone in her shoulder bag. This was endless torure. Why didn't the person calling just hang up, it had to have rung on their end at least five times!  

"Um..." her ears perked when she heard the guy's interruption of her cursing the day. She had almost forgotten he was sitting in front of her. And then the phone's song died, and with it the whispers of the library around them slowly peetered out. Locking her jaw, she narrowed her eyes as she looked to the guy. What did he want?

"Your phone is in your pocket, I think." 

She lowered her eyes ever so slowly down to her pocket, where, to her dismay and relief, the top of the phone could be seen sticking itself out over the edge, as if trying to let her know it was laughing at her. She huffed out a breath, pulling the phone out with anger and throwing it into her bag. She knew she had to be at least human, so her eyes returned to the stranger's a bit softer but still a little reluctant.

"Thanks-" she whispered, she was broken off when a few whispers came from all sides. Throwing her arms out in the air in a questionging manner, she shook her head, "really?" again the shushing followed it up, and she rolled her eyes. 

But they settled on the book that the man had been reading before she had knocked it out of his hands. Kafka on the Shore, the oddest but still most interesting book that Diana had ever read. She had shaken her head and rolled her eyes many times to its words, its message, but still she couldn't help but finish it and then follow it up with a self-assigned essay paper on its themes and its message itself, on which her teacher had told her, had she been assigned it, she would have gotten an A. 

"You are truly a weird person if you read that and enjoy it page for page." she stated her opinion openly, a little bluntly as she rocked onto one foot and situated her bag on her shoulder.

[ooc: meh, hope that's okay. I don't think it's as good. Also, just for the record, I've not read that book, I only looked up the plot summary. And the blunt opinion is just Diana's way! ]

[benvolio]

((OOC: Hey, don't sell yourself short! That was good. =D))

Ben looked a little sheepish as the girl's eyes returned to his own. He was the type of person who felt embarrassment acutely, whether it was his own or others'. This made it still more difficult to be friends with Romeo and Mercutio at times. Both of them loved attention, and seemed to subscribe to the theory that "all publicity is good publicity." Ben, on the other hand, preferred to attract as little notice as possible, negative or otherwise. Even being complimented made him want to sink into the floor!

As such, he winced slightly as the whispers from the proverbial peanut gallery started up again. Schadenfreude really was not one of humanity's best traits, but it struck Ben as one of the most widespread. It didn't matter who you were; no matter what, seeing bad or embarrassing things happen to other people made you feel better about your own life. What an unfair world.

He blinked at the girl's criticism of his reading material, then smiled. "That's hardly news to me," he said softly, trying not to disturb anyone by talking too loudly. "I always knew I was weird. Still, what's wrong with that?"

He laughed a little sheepishly, "Even so, though, this book's a little too esoteric for me. I don't think I've understood a single sentence for the past ten pages."

It was true; he had been able to follow the introduction of talking cats, extremely random sexual encounters, and hallucinations. He had laughed at the scene with the raining fish. But the gratuitously weird scene in the freezer had left him all but scratching his head at the sheer oddness of the story.

He shifted his attention back to the girl, "But if you've read enough of it know that, you must have liked it enough to keep going, at any rate."

[belladonna]

(Hope you guys don't mind if I sidle in ^^; )

Passing through the midst with her free step and composed grace of bearing that might distinguish an Empress of many nations, Belladonna entered the library and let vent a sigh of peace. She hugged a thick book - Performing Arts: Music, Stage and Screen - and a tablet of lined paper close to her chest. Devout, in one respect it described Belladonna to the last tatter, only it did tend to waste her time that she did need. She got her stomach full just by talking about how much she loved her nephew, but she had a habit of using that much-needed time on him - and the professors didn't accept devoted-Aunt-love as an excuse. If only she could be that devout to her studies, they told her.

So, if she wanted a hope in hell of passing she would complete the two-thousand word piece today and hand it in tommorow.

All were still, as they were. She held in her breath softly, treading slow and musing like - the closely pleated layers of her many skirts disturbed as her legs laggard walked. The deeper she walked, she was astonished at the lack of seats - there had been one or two at a desk near the window but the girls at that table looked in no interest of studying or letting anyone sitting with them do so. Belladonna even considered sitting cross-legged on the floor, but the last time she tried that the librarian openly reproved her. She stopped walking, holding her books tighter in some sense of tense defeat. If she went home, she would be distracted by her dear nephew right off - there was truly nowhere else she could concentrate.

Then, suddenly aware of the ringing of a cell phone - she turned her head, ropes of black hair escaped from her messy top-knot swinging like vines. In that direction she perceived at least one seat available, aside a young reader and the owner of that cellphone. Her plump face regarded the seat fixedly, but with a doubtful air. People sometimes refused her as they took her as far too abstracted and serious, due to the wall she wore herself. Through tender yearning she approached the desk, fiddling with a dangle of hair with her two fingers and thumb.

'Hi,' Belladonna said, then realising her voice was far too much of a mutter and clearing her throat. Her arms wrapped round her books once again. 'Sorry, but - do you mind if I sat here?'

[benvolio]

Ben became aware of another party on the fringes of the conversation. It was another girl—though she looked the polar opposite of the one before him. Where the girl had had been speaking to was blonde, she was dark. Where the other girl had a light tan, she was as pale as could be. And where the somewhat intimidating blonde had already shown some force of character and strong will, the dark-haired girl seemed reluctant to approach the pair.

However, once she had approached, it was clear that her object was the chair opposite Ben’s. It was the same sort of chair as his: an old, slightly moth-eaten armchair that ought to have been reupholstered years ago. The cloth covering it had once been green, but all that remained was a sort of mottled gray. Despite its appearance, though, it had lots of soft padding, and was just the right size to curl up in.

Glancing around, Ben realized that it also appeared to be the only open chair in the room. Irritatingly enough, quite a few of the other chairs in the room were occupied by groups of giggling girls without a single book between them. Ben could never quite understand this- had they told their parents they were going to the library, and didn't want to be caught in a lie? It was quite vexing.

Given the books clasped in the black-haired girl's arms, however, he judged that she did not belong to that class of space-waster.

He smiled brightly at her, "Of course! Why would I stop you?" He indicated the chair with a loafer-clad foot, "By all means, sit!"

[belladonna]

Belladonna seemed to glow with relief, returning the smile of friendly welcome with gathered comfort. ‘Thanks.’

Lapsing into the calm, composed manner which had succeeded in avoiding her most of the day, she pulled out the chair face-to-face with the obliging boy and let her knapsack – which was bursting with more books and a bottle water - fall from her shoulder. She sat, allotted novel and paper-pads fallen from her hands onto the desk and she organized herself so that she was leaning over the book with a fixed gaze. Like the reproachful look of some angel of innocence sent from a purer world. This was the time of silence, for concentrating on anything else was night impossible.

The novel, assigned by tutor of drama, was to be the base of the production that was in tune at the university – where Belladonna would play daughter of the lead. The Castle of Ortranto, generally regarded as the first gothic novel, initiating a literary genre within itself. The character of Matilda was to be her focus, and after an ascent of steep, difficult thought, her pen began to make words.

There are a number of modern-day adages which are still used to describe the ways in which children of past generations were regarded with respect to their position in society and in relationship to their families. These sayings include, among others, ‘Children are best seen and not heard.’ Such adages are certainly apropos when applied to a great many works of eighteenth century literature, in which children were variously portrayed as nuisances, burdens, and miniaturized adults …

At this, Belladonna moved her eyes sideward from the book, laid her arms upon it; and sighed. She heavily disagreed, shaking her head slowly and doubtfully. Children were least corrupted creatures on God’s green, unregretting and resolving. They arranged innocence in a thousand pretty ways, and to herself she smiled in the afternoon sunlight, creeping through the dim window. Resting her chin upon the flat of her palm. Quiet, silent and demure.

[isabel]

Diana found it amazing. A guy was actually being nice enough to care about the whispers and shushes that she was recieving. But she quicky changed her thinking. All men did that; acted like they cared about you, and maybe for a while they would. But it would change, of course. It always did. And it always ended in disaster. Which is why, she was never going to fall for it. 

And then the guy was smiling, most likely at her ill-form in stating her thoughts openly to him. All guys did that too; they absolutely hated girls having opinions. And it was Diana's favourite thing to surprise a man by having thoughts and ideas, as if to let them know that yes, shockingly enough, girls did have brains, and they were a darn-sight more full of needed things than men's! Sound bitter? Well, she was...

 "That's hardly news to me,"[/i] he whispered softly, caring for the other occupants of the library around them. "I always knew I was weird. Still, what's wrong with that?"[/i]

She found a soft laugh escaping from her lips, and she fingered the strap on her bag. 

"Absolutely nothing. But in moderation. I mean, honestly, impossible cases, random fish raining and the little other tidbits that could deal not to be in there? The only thing good about it is the talking cats..." she smirked, rolling her eyes quickly as more shushes lofted her way. Casting a glance around to no one in particular, she raised her brows. "And I'm not going to shut up, everyone." though she still managed the harsher whisper just to spite everyone. 

  "But if you've read enough of it know that, you must have liked it enough to keep going, at any rate."[/i] 

Ah, a challenge. And a good one at that, Diana thought to herself as she turned over her answer in her mind. "Well, I was intrigued to say in the least. Of course, anyone nowadays would find the obvious things of the book interesting, and you could understand why it would be read. It was adventurous to say in the least, and complexly heartfelt. But there are pros and cons of the whole thing, which is why I wrote my own opinions--" 

She was cut off when she heard a quick but small voice requesting the seat beside the man Diana had oddly chosen to take up a random conversation with. Turning her attention to the girl with raven-black hair coils for hair, she offered a quick smile that she could only hope the smile wasn't mean-looking like some of her friends had informed her it did look. But she knew she couldn't help it. That was her face, and it was a blessing as well as a curse. She had grown used to it.

Her eyes dropped to the book in the girl's hands, clutched close as if afraid to let go in case the large book would run away. Diana recognized that book for sure. 

"The theatre, the theatre, what's happened to the theatre." she quoted, knowing that the girl must have heard it somewhere, since her brother was always using it with a laugh. She smiled, knowing then she had to explain herself and her oddities. "My brother is a part of the theatre as well." she indicated the book, letting her sentence hang awkwardly in the air. 

[omgsh! Sorry for the rubbish post! I'm a little dodgy in muse lately. Oh well, it'll return soon. Until then, sorry! ]

[belladonna]

(Don't beat yourself up, girl. Your post was great ;P)


Belladonna meditated long, with fast-closed eyes and open mouth, while the earnestness of her inward thoughts was clearly demonstrated now and then by an irrepressible smile from the corners of her mouth. A trifling elevation of her countenace, that she had been trying to avoid since coming here. She had stayed away from home so as not to be distracted, and to think of sweet children was to think of all of lifes blessings, some she had not even know until recent. Thus followed becoming distracting in no time at all. Though when her blissful reverie was suddenly broken in upon by the sound of speaking, she opened two bright blue and heavily outlined eye and stared up from her chair. She perceived the girl with the feathery blonde hair, in talks of the theatre.

'Oh,' There was obvious, but passive confusion in her face. She let it go though, after being explained to. Belladonna nodded her understandings, the tips of her black-varnish licked fingers fumbling at each other. Her knowledge was unfortunately limited, being only the fledgling of the stage.

'Well, um. I'm not exactly in with the theatre yet, but I hope to be someday.' She explained, still smilingly. 'I'm just kinda, studying it for now. Down at the university.'

[benvolio]

Ben had to stifle a laugh at what the blonde said. "Yeah, I know what you mean... Although, strictly speaking, it is actually possible to rain fish- hurricanes suck up seawater, fish and all, and rain down elsewhere." Ben blushed, realizing he was rambling. "Not that the hallucinations of a crazy Japanese kid have anything to do with actual weird phenomena. I'm just a spout for useless information." he added with a sheepish smile.

He stifled another laugh at the reaction of the people around when the blonde petulantly declared that she wouldn't be quiet. He had the strong impression that if he wasn't the one talking to her, he would be rather annoyed. He ordinarily hated people talking in libraries; it felt rather refreshing to be on the other side of that annoyance for once.

He would have been interested to hear the blonde's further commentary on the book, but the conversation turned to the book that the brunette was carrying instead. He recognized it as one that had been adapted into a play as one that Carlotta had been in while she was in college. As he recalled, she had complained about every part of it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that that had had more to do with her not having the lead role than the actual play. She had certainly been excited about the novel. Ben smiled inwardly; very few people who knew his second-oldest sister would ever think of her as a fan of gothic novels. It was odd- they were so at variance with her usual taste- but she loved them.

"That's a coincidence," he said aloud, "my sister is in the theatre as well. She's understudying on Broadway now." he added with a hint of pride. His sister might be the most vain prima donna to ever walk the earth, but she really could back it up. She was a great actress, and her voice was the most powerful Ben had ever come across. A bit harsh, perhaps, but always pitch-perfect.

"Oh, really? Which University?" he asked the brunette. "I'm a med student at NYU." He smiled warmly, "My name's Ben, by the way. Ben Montague."

((Sorry for the bad post- I'm still kind of sick, so my brain's a little fuzzy.))

[belladonna]

The little lady lifted a pair of clear eyes to the young man, and with a good-natured nod returned a glowing smile. It was far more than just talking about her love within the theatre. Belladonna never really imagined herself as lonely or neglected, yet at a first glance that was everyone's first assumption, and should they speak to her it would be with the effort of speaking to a brick wall. Yet in this library she exchanged those first confidences to which, to an outsider, might seem eminetly foolish to think of so fondly. But to those immediately concerned, like Belladonna, a conversation as casual as so was the most wonderful, delightful, strange and enchanting thing beyond all description.

'Wow, your sister must be a real stage gem to be understudying at Broadway. I'd love to get a part there, some day.' She said wistfully, nodding again several times. Straightening her arms, she upheaved her body a little from the cushioned seat and quickly fell again once she had crossed her legs. Soft trailing layers of her red skirts lying neatly on her lap, under the thick book. She, with polite and mild gaily, added, 'Belladonna Maylie, fellow educatee at NYU.'

There was only one answer left save the softening of her eyes fixed upon the boyish face. She dropped her little white hands onto the book, and paid promised attention. It had been a long time since good conversation had fallen on her listening ears, apart from that of her Maya. 'I've walked past the medico blocks afew times, it must be all so interesting. Learning how to doctor, and stuff. Is that what you wanna do for a career, be a doctor?'

[benvolio]

Ben laughed, giving his eyes an exaggerated roll, "She certainly thinks so." That was being unfair to his sister- she really was amazingly talented. She just happened to be all to aware of the fact. "I've never seen you act, so I can't speak for your abilities, but if you work hard and keep at it, I'm sure you have a shot at getting there someday." he said reassuringly. "It's just a matter of not letting the first hundred rejections get to you- my sister auditioned over and over for loads of different shows before she got her current part. Persistence really does pay off!"

"A pleasure, I'm sure." he said in response to her introduction. "Who knows, maybe I'll see you around campus sometime, now that I know who you are." he added with a smile.

Belladonna seemed awfully shy, even to Ben; she hardly looked up as she spoke. Well, he could sympathize with that; if it weren't for Mercutio and Romeo always forcing him to socialize, he would probably hole himself up with his books and never talk to anybody.

"Yeah," he said, "it's definitely what I want to do with my life. I'm still trying to think of a way to break it to my dad, though." He grimaced, "he really wants me to take over the family business, you know? But I haven't got the head for business, or the nerves for that matter."

He laughed wryly, "At the risk of sounding totally sappy, I want to change people's lives for the better, not screw them over for their money."

Ben's father would hate to hear him talking about business that way, but it was true! Businesses existed to make money. Whatever good they did was either in the pursuit of money, or for good publicity so that more people would spend money. Money money money money money. Perhaps it came from growing up in a rich family, but Ben didn't care very much about it. Oh sure, he knew he'd care if he lost all of his, but he didn't see why people got so caught up in trying to make more and upstage their rivals that they forgot to enjoy and appreciate what they already had. That always struck Ben as completely stupid.

"What about you; planning to make a career on the stage?"

[hamlet]

Artemis is inactive, so I will leave it up to you guys if you want to continue this thread without her. If not, you can let me know and I'll archive this thread

[belladonna]

(I'm good if Ben is?)