(2018-08-13) What's Your Fantasy?
What's Your Fantasy?
Summary: Quinn, Besa, and Dylan run into each other in the book store.
Date: 2018-08-13
Related: None
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: NA

Silver Fable Book Store - Shady Cove

A tall and imposing structure that houses shelves upon shelves of books. Three stories tall, the first two make up the sales floors while the third serves as the apartment of the proprietor. In one whole side of the store there is an area dedicated to Buried Under Comics, a new addition to the store itself. A stair case leads midway to the second floor before splitting off and going to both the left and right, where even more choices of books are on display. The area is well lit and there are security cameras filming the customers. A large man who goes by the name of Goose, runs the store, he is in his mid to late twenties and is rather talkative, if one wanted to sit and speak with him awhile.

It is a summer day. The weather is warm and overcast.

Monday afternoon has brought a blanket of thin clouds. The overcast sky has brought cooler temperatures. For most this meant that the weather is even more tolerable, but for Dylan it means that the humidity is higher and thus more wretched. The boy is wearing a tee shirt that is a size or two too large. His cheek is scratched up. The scratches look angry and red. Nothing serious, just the usual injuries of boyhood. Dylan is in the bookstore to feast on the A/C and to sit in a corner with one of the books from the Science-fiction/Fantasy section. He is sitting cross-legged, seemingly lost in the book.

Dressed in a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, Quinn's doing his normal somewhat classic look that's slightly spoiled by none of it fitting quite right. He does have shoes on and at the moment he looks like he's about ready to jump out of his skin. As he steps into the air conditioning, he lets out an audible sigh of relief. Not so much from the cold air assaulting his skin but the relative quietness of the bookstore. He was amazed by the concept of writing things in books, he didn't do much writing and he has been working on making his writing legible and adapting to the modern era. Humming softly to himself, he began meandering the place that was recommended to him. People thought it would be a relatively safe place for him to be.

The book store is indeed a relatively quiet place. The comic section is a bit more alive with some younger kids, but for the most part the primary book store is mostly empty. Dylan looks up as he hears the humming. He is not annoyed, just curious. His dark eyes watch the blond boy for a moment before returning to the book that he is enjoying - he might even buy it.

The humming actually helps with Quinn's nerves. It allows him to relax a little bit. He walks so that he's actually close to Dylan as he begins perusing the books. He doesn't really know what he's looking at. The concept of sci-fi and fantasy was a new one to him but he decided to check some out right now.

Dylan looks up from the floor, "If I'm in your way, just say something and I will be out of your way before you can blink."

"That's not necessary." Quinn says in a soft voice, "I was just looking about… I am not sure what's good to be honest." He says all this fairly rapidly as it is obvious his nerves were getting the better of him as he spoke. This was not something that he was at all comfortable doing.

Dylan shrugs slightly, "I guess it all depends on what you like. Science fiction, science fantasy, High fantasy, modern fantasy, modern horror…" He rattles on a few more genres. "So what do you think you might like?" Yeah, apparently the boy seems to enjoy his fiction.

"Not horror." Quinn says hurriedly. The thought of things that go into that genre would probably terrify him beyond words. "I am honestly unfamiliar with any of these though. I haven't done much reading." He says with a weak smile. Not a lie. He hasn't. Lies are bad.

One second the boy is sitting cross-legged on the floor, the next he is standing one of the shelves about four feet from where he was sitting. He pulls two books. The first is 'The Queen's Own'; the second being 'The Last Herald-Mage'; both of which are by Mercedes Lackey. "These are good for high fantasy… really good characters… some happy things, some sad things…" A blink and he's a few feet to the left. He pulls Jim Butcher's 'Storm Front' "Now this is modern day fantasy… Butcher is one of my favorite authors, but that's just me… doesn't mean you will like them, but it would be a good start to see what you might like."

"What is Storm Front about?" Quinn asks not asking what he REALLY wants to know. What is High Fantasy? "What is the actual story about though for the High Fantasy books?" Maybe in a round about way he can determine the difference between high fantasy and the others. He should have asked the others what they recommended too. That's about when he takes a look at the books more closely, kneeling down beside Dylan and humming softly to himself, a wordless tune again.

Dylan watches the humming boy, "Oh, well, Storm Front is the first book in a series about a man named Harry… It's set in the modern day, where every person is normal everyday people… no one knows about anything else, except those who are part of the supernatural. Harry is a wizard, who is a private investigator who claims to be a wizard for hire. He is a wizard, even if the majority of people don't believe it. He investigates and solves a murder." He pauses a second, "Well, the first Mercedes Lackey book is about Talia, a young woman who has to prove herself to everyone that she is a worthy queen and defends her lands, though the power of magic, love, and friends… The second one is about a young man who has a destiny to do something and it's about his trials and tribulations as he battles forces of evil with powerful magic." He scrunches his nose slightly, "I think that gave an idea without giving away the plot. I just hate it when people do that… just ruins a good book."

"I do not think you have given away the plot of any of these books." Quinn says with a weak little smile. Truth be told he followed very little in the other teen's descriptions of the books. His blue eyes light on the scratches and says, "How did you hurt yourself? You should put a little… savory on them and make sure they're clean." Yep. He had to think of the modern world for the plant that was used when he was born. The concept of using hand sanitizer and soap and all the modern methods is baffling to him still.

"Savory?" Dylan asks. It's not a use of the word that he is familiar with. He subconsciously reaches up and touches the scratches on his cheek. "Oh, this… The place I was hanging out is kind of falling apart and one of the floor boards broke and I fell." And yes, the boy speaks in run-on sentences as he barely takes a break. Me may be a teleporter, but he certainly falls under the catch-all phrase "speedster" alright. "It's just some scratches, I have had a lot worse."

"Savory… It's an herb that when it's cold cleans out wounds so they don't cause illness." Quinn says seriously, in a somewhat hyper voice himself. He didn't like suffering and he didn't want to resort to magic here. "I didn't learn to make the poultices yet, but I know a bit about them." He says in that soft voice, the words growing hesitant as he approaches aspects that he's not sure the teen would belief, and there was no need freaking someone out over it.

Dylan shakes his head, "Never heard of it.. but I'll get some alcohol and some aloe. I haven't really seen how it looks since last night." Living in an old abandoned train station not really high on things like mirrors. "You know, if you're not big into reading books, you could always go over to the comic section and maybe find you a graphic novel or something…."

"No… I think I prefer books. I like how they smell." Quinn says not wanting to admit he's scared of graphic novels. He's heard of things that make the movie he watched seemed tame. "You can call me Quinn by the way." He says giving Dylan a weak little smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Dylan grins with mischief in his eyes. "You can call me Tom if you like." His grin widens. "So, no offense, but you don't sound like you're from around here, and that is coming from someone who is not from around here." He cocks his head, "You thirsty, Quinn? I'm kind of thirsty. Actually I'm kind of hungry. I'm almost always hungry? So are you, Quinn? Thirsty? Hungry, huh?"

"A pleasure to meet you Tom." Quinn says taking him honestly, "To say that is a bit of an understatement." He says actually laughing. He got the not being from around here a lot and part of it is the strange accent. "I am a little bit thirsty but not too hungry right now."

Dylan smiles, "That has a nice sound to it." He doesn't wait to be asked what. "Your laughter… No offense, but you are way too shy… You're going to get taken advantage of, if people think that you're weak." Subject change. "So what do you like to drink?"

"Lemonade or water?" Quinn says hesitantly before he says, "I am not terribly strong." He says making a muscle that isn't really all that impressive except for how scrawny he normally looks. "I am working on becoming less… afraid of things here." He says plainly. It's true. He's not terribly successful most of the time, but he's here now.

Dylan just disappears. He's gone for about two minutes before he reappears with a 20 ounce bottle of Country Time lemonade, which he offers over to Quinn. In his other hand, he has a bottle of Dr. Pepper and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. "Here you go, little dude. It's not about strength. It's about attitude. If you act like you can take care of yourself, then people are less likely to fuck with you."

"Thank you." Quinn says smiling at Dylan and there's a strange gesture from him before he takes the bottle from Dylan. "I am…. working on it. I used to be very calm and collected." Then he spent a few millennia in sensory deprivation and emerged to a massively different world. "I do not think they would do well by 'fucking' with me." He says with a little shy smile.

Dylan reaches over and ruffles Quinn's hair. "You're a nice kid… But if I was more of an asshole, I'd probably give you hell. You practically have a neon sign floating above you that says 'fuck with me'." The two boys are standing in the SciFi/Fantasy section. Quinn has a bottle of lemonade, and "Tom" has a Dr. Pepper and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. He opens the bag and crams a couple into his mouth, before offering the opened bag towards the other boy. Who knows, this could be a snack, or judging by Dylan's over-all look, it could very well be part of his dinner.

"I do not think you would enjoy the result of that." Quinn says looking at the bottle as he opens it to take a nice drink of the lemonade. He didn't want to get fucked with but he did have his own ways of defending himself, "But I do not like picking fights. I like getting along with people much better."

Besa had a busy day, with eh practicing of the sword and dodging rain fall and the weird beach thing. So now the tired teen steps inside, his hair damp, along with Cocoa wearing her work vest. She's sticking close to Besa's legs, like she senses something. He stops on the mat, wiping his feet as he glances around the store before making his way towards the poetry section. The air-conditioning in the store against what the rain had done to him makes him shiver slightly.

Dylan smiles, "I said if I was more of an asshole I would. " He shakes his head slightly, "Kind of like you, Quinn, so you got nothing to worry about from me… " He assumes the Quinn is a normal teen and that this 'I can take care of myself' is all hot air. He plops down where he was sitting before, opening a book up to the page that he had left off and continues reading, while eating his early evening snack. "You really can read through some of the books and see if you like the style."

Setting down on the ground and closing his eyes, Quinn was listening to Dylan on a different level than most. He also catches the sound of Besa. However, he doesn't move to get up and speak to him. Right now he figures that Besa will come and see them when he's ready. "I have not ready too many books so far. I've been catching up on things."

Sci-Fi/Fantasy isn't usually Besa's bag, so he steps over to poetry. He's head tilts up to look at the titles on the books' spines when an older lady walks up to him, "You're not allowed to have that dog in here!" His head swivels and he blinks in confusion at the woman. She doesn't have. Name tag on or anything indicating she works here. In his usual think accent, "I'm sorry…what?" He's never had a problem taking Cocoa anywhere before. The dog looks up at the lady and then leans agains Besa's leg.

Three little words and Dylan knows who the woman is talking to. He looks over at Quinn, "Speaking of assholes and bullies… Excuse me, I'll be back… I think I need to stick my nose into something." »Blink« And he's gone. »Blink« and he reappears not too far from the woman and Besa. "Actually ma'am, by the American Disabilities Act, he is very much allowed to have that dog in here. Otherwise, you can expect to be hearing from the ACLU faster than you can say 'I really screwed that one up'." He grins at the woman, as he is holding out his phone. "But please, by all means, tell this nice teenage boy that he isn't allowed to have his service dog with him… Sorry… this nice teenage minority boy that he can't have his service dog." He smirks at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting to see the woman's response.

Approaching Besa and the woman and Dylan, Quinn's voice is soft as he says, "And Cocoa definitely is a service dog." He gives her a look that says quite a lot. His blue eyes are focused for a long moment before he says, "So please leave them alone. It doesn't work right if you hurt him." He says bluntly.

The woman is glaring down at Besa, stepping closer trying to intimidate him, "It could bite or worse, have fleas!". Besa for the most part just seems confused, "Cocoa would never bite someone. And I do not believe she has the fleas…" A quick glance down to her, like Cocoa would tell him. "I have-" But then suddenly Tom and Quinn are there and defending him? Damp bangs that still somehow look great flop as Besa tilts his head, "Tom? She is just confused. She thinks Cocoa has fleas, which she does not." He doesn't mention that if she has fleas, so does Besa. He turns back to offered the woman a soft smile. Her beady eyes dart from Besa and the dog to Quinn and Dylan. She then huffs, muttering art how animals belong outside,but she turns and walks away.

Dylan continues holding up his phone so that the woman knows that he's recording the whole thing. "It doesn't matter if the dog is covered in fleas. The law is the law, and there ain't nuthin' you can do about it." He smirks as the woman walks off. "Well, heya Besa…. Guess I kind of owed you one or three… And she wasn't confused, she was just being a bitch. That's all."

"She was not a nice lady." Quinn says as if it was all settled, and not quiet enough not to be heard by her either. "Although I believe Ashton would say that I am not using the proper word, but I am still unclear which word I should be using instead." He says in that plain voice of his. No doubt if she was still listening she'd probably want to strangle him.

The woman heads towards the counter where Goose is and after a brief exchange of words he goes to get something out of the back for her. She'll continue to glare in the general direction of the teens. Besa ignores her, instead dropping his hand to touch Cocoa's head, his newest scar stands out pink against his dark skin. "Hello Tom, hello Quinn. Thank you." His brow furrows, not liking the entire situation, "Perhaps I and Cocoa should just leave…I do not wish to make a problem."

Dylan shakes his head, "Don't you fuckin' dare. You didn't do anything wrong… If you run with your tail between your legs, you're just telling people like her that it's alright to treat you and other people like that. Which it isn't alright."

The woman's glaring does cause Quinn to shrink in on himself a little bit,"Why don't we walk away from here? I do not like that look she's giving us. It reminds me of the look one of the instructors would give when he wished to make us do the worst tasks for the day of training." Usually dangerous and risky tasks that would involve bodily hard if done improperly.

Besa's eyes widen slightly as Dylan swears at him. "I…" He glances over to the woman , who locks eyes with him and glares before he looks back. Quinn gets a soft nod, "I was going to look for poetry, but I can look elsewhere too?" That's a good compromise , right? Cocoa nuzzles against Besa's leg, sensing the tension in the building That's affecting her boy. "What were the two fo you looking at?"

Dylan sighs, "You can go if you want, but I wouldn't if it was me… and we were looking at the sci-fi/fantasy section… I was here to get a couple books to keep myself occupied… that and a couple romance novels for Ami Sani." He looks over at Besa, "Your dog is actually a service dog, right?"

"I was mostly just looking at books in general." Quinn says smiling weakly,"I think she is just unhappy with her life. I have seen that before. She just needs to find a passion that is not glaring at us." This time Quinn does pitch his voice soft enough for only Dylan and Besa to hear.

Besa nods, "Yes. She is for my PTSD." He doesn't explain more, instead, "Then let us go look at the book for you and Miss Running-Fox and for you as well, Quinn." It finally dawns on him that the two fo them together isn't something he would have though to have seem before. "You are both friends?"

Dylan shakes his head, "We just met actually… " He looks at Quinn, "It probably has more to do with the color of Besa's skin than anything… " He looks back over at Besa, "Give me a sec, and I'll get what I need and be right back." »BLINK« And he's gone. A minute later, he is right back with a small handful of paperbacks.

"I must go… I have to be meeting with someone but this is accurate. We just met. He seems nice. He introduces himself the same way I do." Quinn says looking at Besa, which means that no. He doesn't think Tom is Dylan's real name. He smiles a bit more again,"Do take care of yourself Tom. Those scratches should have something applied to them so they do not cause illness." And that he's heading out the door after giving the woman a small smile and a wave as well. He thinks it's just polite.

Besa looks down at his arm, the pink scar and he frowns, "Oh." That's it, but clearly he understand that if his shoulders drooping is any indication. Dark eyes lock with Quinn and Best nods, maybe he understands. The mention of scratches is noted, he'll offer to help him at some point. He watches Quinn go as Dylan does his blinking thing. A soft smile of offered to Dylan as eh returns, "Will that be enough for your grandmother?"

Dylan has several angry looking scratches on his cheek, showing signs of a slight presence of infection. He nods, "I'll take care of it…. and yeah, nice to meet you, Quinn." He watches the blond boy leave. He smirks, "He thinks I'm nice…." He says it as if he doesn't believe it or something. He looks back to Besa, "Yeah… and if it isn't, then I'll just get her some more… I have been sneaking stuff into her for a while now."

Besa's gaze settles on Dylan's cheek. How did he miss that? Oh right, racist lady. "I have a little bit of coin, if she needs anything else I can help. I wish her to be happy and comfortable." Besa didn't like how empty her room was. She had less stuff that he does! "May I heal your cheek?"

Goose finally comes back with magazines for the cranky lady , who now pulls out her change purse and starts colluding out exactly what is asked for.

Dylan smirks, "Nah… Thanks, but I got it. He fishes out some of the money that he had squirreled away from his time with Marko's crew. He looks over at Besa, "Oh, that's not really necessary.. it's just a couple little scratches." Some are two to three inches long. "If it will make you feel better though… I won't stop you, but I don't think this is really the place."

Besa nods, he'll not force presents for the grandmother, although that institution to heal extends to making people happy. Maybe he'll ask Rain to send her some flowers… The ancient teen raises an eyebrow as he looks at the gashes on the others face, "Those will scar if I do not heal them." When he says yes (Sorta) the Guardian smiles , happy he won this battle. "Yes, not here. We can go where ever you wish for it." He doesn't want to assume that Dylan wants him at the train station again.

Dylan pays for the books and walks back over to Besa. He shrugs, "Wherever really…. Well, wherever it can be done without someone freaking out over it." He shrugs slightly, "It's not like I have any place that I can really call home anymore… The last place before the train station was the old hospital… before that it was in a subway station… Kind of had to keep in motion to keep from getting caught." He frowns slightly, "Guess, now I will do, just for other reasons… "

Besa glances again at the books nearest him as Dylan pays. When he returns, "I do not know many places. Are you still at the station? Could we go there?" Cocao stays close, although she does give Dylan a sniff. "Have you thought anymore about what you will do? You can not stay in those buildings come winter…" He doesn't want to press the school, but… "I am certain Coral Springs would the you in."

Dylan sighs then shrugs, "I.. I don't know where I will be… and that's assuming that Rex doesn't find me and swallows me whole." He pauses, "He turns into a frickin' dinosaur. I swear to God, a frickin' T-Rex." He looks at Besa. His jaw tenses, and there is a flicker of fear in his eyes. "Even if I thought that I could get into your private school, which I guess I could rob a bank in order to pay for, they would just have to hand me over to those people that would lock me in a freezer for not doing my chores, which I wouldn't have been able to do if there was three of me."

Besa's face pales and then stills, "I have fought dinosaurs before. One clawed me…" He motions to his side, "Aiden and many friends died…" So he nods, completely understanding Dylan's fear, "I will not let him eat you, I promise." There's a soft frown, "No….you would not have to pay for it. I do not." Technically Besa has no money. He reaches his hand out to gently touch the other's arm if allowed, "I will not let them put you in a freezer either. That is unkind." Dark eyes study the teen in front of him, "It is the paper work yes? That is why you believe you would have to go back? If I can get it changed, would you go to the school?"

Saying softly, "Sorry about your friends…" Dylan looks actually broken for a moment. "Trust me, dude… there isn't anything you can do… the state doesn't care… I told them about how Mister Johnson would beat me… and how she would use me as her personal servant… and how Drew would.. " he stops abruptly, "And the case worker would just send me back there for more punishment after tellng me how grateful I should be that they were willing to take me back." He snorts slightly, "Besides, thing about school is that well… I'm too stupid for school… I'd probably flunk out and get booted after a month. So what's the point?"

Besa's fingers tighten, not painfully but like Besa's afraid Dylan is going to disappear, "Tom. I…I have some sway. I will not let you be hurt again. You trusted me with your grandmother, will you not trust me with this?" He smiles, but there's a hurt behind his eyes and almost like she knows, Cocoa steps closer, "I have been…hurt by people who were supposed to protect me as well. I know it is hard, but there is so much more than that." His head tilts, he does not look like he's thousands of years old. "You are not stupid. You rattled off things and laws that I have never heard of to that lady bitch." He's also not very good at swearing. "The point is you will be safe and can learn and will have food and shelter and will not have to worry…"

Dylan frowns, "I'll make a deal with you. If and only if, you can arrange it so that I'm not put in the custody of the Johnsons or someone just as bad, then I will give it a try. How's that? And as far as that with the woman… my Ami Sani lives in a retirement home… there is this write-up about the American with Disabilities Act in the lobby… and I'm Apache… every Indian knows to start shouting ACLU any time racism is involved…" He shrugs, "Trust me.. I _am_ stupid… everyone tells me… You'll see it eventually.. that is if I stick around long enough."

Besa will take the deal, figuring that's the best he's going to get out of Dylan. His smile warms and he pats the others arm briefly before letting go, "You will see . I have the connections." Maybe he'll have the Masters use their pull. Or maybe Besa will use the saving the world card he never plays. Or maybe he'll just heal someone else's grandmother. He glances in the direction the woman went, but she' not visible anymore. "I know that people treat each other differently, but…" He takes a deep breath, "I suppose I have been sheltered from that." Very, very true. That perfect hair is dry enough that when he shakes his head it bounces, "I do not listen to everyone. I believe my own eyes and ears. You will stick around and we will become friends, you will see. Come…Let me heal you. It will not take much and you will not have scars when you go see your grandmother next." Yes….he's healing him for the grandma. That's feasible…right?

Dylan smirks, "Hardly be the first or last, but like I said.. if it will make you feel better. You're a healer… I get it that it is in your nature to want to make others better…. It's who you are… "

Besa smiles, seeming happy with that response. Usually he gets yelled at. Maybe Dylan isn't so much like Whitley after all. "Come then I will heal you and then get the coffee. Would you like one?"

Dylan grins, "Sure… Coffee sounds pretty good… " As the two boys walk off, Dylan glances over at the Egyptian boy. "So what exactly is this Coral Springs about?" And they talk about the school, that is before Besa has to head back to the school and Dylan skips back the train station for another fun night of 'let's not get carted off by mosquitos!'. Ah, fun times….

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