Dieu est mort! le ciel est vide...[closed]

[poeticverses]

Characters: Jean Prouvaire and Alcuin nó Delaunay
Date: April 10th
Location: Alcuin's apartment
Situation: Jehan found something of Alcuin's on Atam.
Warnings/Rating: PG-13 to be safe

[Jehan felt terrible about leaving the others, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to handle the excitement of a protest right now. He was still adjusting to the marketplace after last month. It was for the best that he didn't stay around and possibly get in the way (he also had a feeling they would need someone on the outside in case the protest went south). Besides, and he hadn't told them this, with the Emperor out it was possible that he could get into the library and look around.

He's back on the turtle now, though he doesn't head for his apartment. Instead, he heads for Alcuin's. When he had found his copy of Oresteia (and it was his copy, the copy from Paris, the one with the odd mark on the spine and back cover), he had found another book that looked French. It wasn't, but he recognized the name on it anyway.

Anafiel Delauny. Alcuin's Anafiel. He'd grabbed it as soon as he realized that. Alcuin would be delighted.

He knocks on Alcuin's door]

Alcuin? It's Jehan.

Comments

[virginprice]

[He nods understandingly. He wouldn't have liked it either- he is less open with his emotions than Jehan, at least the negative ones.] I do not believe any harm was done, at least? It allowed your friends to help you, and that is a good thing.

[poeticverses]

True. I was reminded that I am not alone, here. My brothers are with me and I have made many wonderful new friends in my time here.

[He smiles at Alcuin]

[virginprice]

To make oneself vulnerable is frightening, yet it is sometimes the only way to gain what you need or desire. [He is familiar with that. Very familiar.]

[poeticverses]

Even if you do not know what, exactly, that is.

[He smiles a bit]

I am glad I was right in assuming the book was yours, Alcuin.

[virginprice]

Indeed.

[He smiles and lowers his gaze to the book, thumb running fondly down its spine.]

I am glad you thought of it.