channellings | ☂ fellden inbox

[ Does he know? He knows how Vergil feels about the Yamato and about his mother's locket, but does V have anything that important? Someone might tell him it was the book of poetry that Vergil had carried since childhood, but doesn't that description alone explain how that isn't his, yet again? ]

I have yet to find something like that.

[ Was it inevitable? Or could you go your entire life without finding something priceless? ]

But I do like books.

[ What a shocker the guy is a nerd. ]

[oof. evidently, v needs to find something to make his own, something personal— or perhaps someone? because friendships can count, too. they're rather priceless in their own way.]

Oh. Well, uhm... I'm sure you'll eventually find something? Even if you don't, it's no big deal, not everyone finds comfort in material things.

[but of course, he likes books and that's a start, isn't it?]

Nerdy, [he grins.] I like it. Books are pretty great though, to be fair.

[ The real question is what book of poems does V have in his cloak pocket today... Let's dig it out. Poems Bewitched and Haunted, a little pocket edition with jack-o'-lantern faces in a pattern across the front. ]

Most of my time is spent reviewing textbooks and researching, but I have a few of these I like to take with me.

[ Even nerdier. Textbooks and poetry. ]

[the moment he does, klaus's propping onto an elbow again, leaning to see the book, eyebrows arched with curiosity.] Poems? Oh no, that's cute, [he gestures toward the little pumpkins, sighs and touches his cheek with his opposite hand.]

Anything good in there? Can't say I've read that one.

[nerdy or not, he can appreciate some good prose.]

I have a few of these, on different themes. Different poets from different time periods. They're easy to keep in a pocket, and read one or two when I have a minute.

[ His circuitous answer about if any of it's good. He just likes being able to read poetry, and if one or two aren't that interesting, there's a selection of others to try. But here, this one is short, ]

I met a ghost in an old bare house,
That looked with lustreless eyes at me,
And drove from my eyes sweet dreams & drowse,
Till the morning made it flee.

My house is builded of years decayed,
And in vain I fill it with new glad light,
For a love that is lost is a ghost unlaid
That troubles the silent night.

[ It's more than likely that his reading of it is more interesting than the poem itself. Calm and sonorous, someone who takes pleasure in the simple act of poetry its sounds, its structures, and its intent to bring indescribable things into description. ]

[before he's even given the chance to ask v to read something, his fellow otherworlder is already opening the book, choosing some poem about ghosts and houses and dreams.

klaus listens intently, absorbing each and every word while he absentmindedly sips at his tea. the prose is interesting; not quite what he'd have in mind when picking poems, considering his whole mediumship thing, but it's still good—

and listening to v speak is completely, one-hundred-percent worth it. his voice is lyrical, smooth as silk, like chocolate melting on the tongue— oh. well, that was unexpected, makes him duck his face a little further into the teacup. he's never been afraid of making his intentions known, regardless of being in public even, although he is somewhat worried about coming on too strong and putting v off.

once klaus's sure nothing inappropriate will come out,] Interesting choice, [he comments around the rim of the cup, lowering it again a moment later.]

What else is in there?

It's the shortest poem in the book, I wasn't going to bore you with a full recitation of the Wood Witch.

[ His smile quirks sharp, not at all feeling down about his poetry habits and more bemused by the idea. Keeping the man hostage in this tea house just to give him a good sense of the book he's reading. Ridiculous. V pushes the book of pocket poems across the table. ]

You can take it, if you want.

[ Being offered whatever book V has on hand is something you'll just have to get used to. He likes books, but there are always others. He refuses to be obsessed with the same book of poetry for twenty years like Vergil. Not here, when he had the opportunity to read anything this world could offer. ]

Wow, rude, how do you know I would've thought it'd be boring?

[he's joking, obviously, grinning in kind while he finally sets the cup down, right as v's sliding the book his way. klaus considers it, tilts his head somewhat then reaches out and rests his first two fingertips against the cover, pulling it closer so he can pick it up.]

You sure? Wouldn't wanna deprive you of good reading material. [not to mention he has no idea when he'll actually read it? sooner rather than later, he'd assume.

to be honest, klaus needs more distractions during his downtime anyhow. something for him to do besides drinking and being obnoxious toward his friends would be good; long ago, he'd have his nose in books all the time, usually back-to-back with a certain horror-filled brother but... well, times have changed.]

[ V's own hands lift off the book's cover with a gesture to say 'it's all yours'. ]

Let me know if you like it.

[ Your new beau just built in an excuse for you to see him again. What a clever guy that V is. ]

[he accepts it with ease after that reassurance, briefly dips his fingers between the pages and flips through a few, studying some words.]

Thanks, V. [then klaus twists around, tucks the miniature novel into his coat-pocket, turning back to him afterward] I can appreciate new reading material.

[and whatever excuses possible to see v again.]

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