"Wow, look at this one!" The little child squeaked, pointing eagerly to a book on a shelf.

That was not really what brought Aris into the store, but she gave the child, who was tugging on her mother's shirt, a slow smile as she strode into the store.

She looked to be about five or six, and was awfully cute for a kid. Well, since most kids were cute to Aris, she supposed it didn't really count.

She just intended on being here and browsing some things, and to escape from the bitter cold of December, for it was definitely warmer in the bookstore than it was outside.

She smiled as she passed by the self-improvement aisle, the single long braid of her brown hair bouncing as she walked.

She had on a plain mint tight shirt, which wasn't what she normally wore, and baggy beige cargo pants.

She plucked a book from the shelf, and hurried to a seat to sit down and read.

Devan skidded to a stop outside the bookstore. Unpacking would have to wait; there were books to be browsed through. Searching for a convenient post to park his bike to, Devan looked around the eccentric street, noting with interest some of the more unusual shops to stop by later.

Finally he found a convenient rack. The siren song of the books called. Poking his head into the dusty interior Devan let himself unwind as the sheer size of the place took hold. Rare books eh? Looking around, he propelled himself to the poetry section in hopes of finding a new copy of The Merry Muses of Caledonia his copy had disintegrated earlier that year, and it was hard to come by.

Flip, flip, flip.

The sound of Aris flipping the pages and skimming the text in her book could be heard if you listened, although she didn't seem to mind the obnoxious noise the constant flipping of the pages made as much as everyone around her did.

The book was something of... some old prose or something. No, if one happened to look closer, the book appeared to be some of the things Shakespeare had written.

Aris seemed to be lost inside the book, looking for one particular thing.

And, aha, she found what she was looking for. The sections with all of his sonnets and things.

She mouthed the words of the first line of the thing, not noticing anything around her.

The line read: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Devan skidded to a stop. There it was, imagine that. For a book that had been widely banned since its publication it looked harmless, a dull blue in the shop's lighting, the faded gold lettering trying its best to give a half-hearted glint. The Merry Muses of Caledonia by Robert Burns. Devan grinned as he tugged the volume out of the shelf, nothing like bawdy poetry written by a famous poet to give tune to his upcoming class load. Skimming through the pages, he almost tripped over a chair.

Side stepping, he attempted to sit down... wait, there was a person sitting there. "Sorry! Really..." Devan stopped in his tracks as he lowered the book, to make sure the sitter was all right. "Shakespeare?"

Snapping back to reality, Aris slammed the book closed involuntarily when someone... sat on her. "Damn!" She shouted, before realizing that was not such a very good thing to do in a book store.

"Oh, uh," she stopped and looked up at Devan, while she rested her hands on the book.

"No, it's all right, really," she spat out before thinking, but she knew she should have said that rather than 'next time watch where you're going'.

"Yeah. Shakespeare." She nodded.

"Sorry yet again, its just when I am in the presence of so many books I tend to get... distracted. " Devan looked around. "Magnificent isn't it, that books are still so powerful in these days of technology." Devan looked for another, unoccupied chair and drug it over so he could continue talking to this person, after all, when being a stranger in a strange land, it is best to gain a web of contacts.

"Which is your favorite?" Devan asked, indicating the Shakespearian volume.

Distracted, yes, that was exactly the word she would have used. She knew what that was like to be lost in so many books, so she could relate quite nicely. Though she simply nodded in response, there was almost a hint of a slight smile coming back to her expression after the shock of being so rudely sat on.

"Yeah. I'd expect, really, they'd have something that reads books for you invented by now. Or, maybe they already have. You know, like movies... or something?" Yeah, that was it, she though. But whatever, for she was infamous for getting things wrong all the time anyway.

"I really have no preference, actually," she said, assuming he was talking about the book she had picked off the shelf and was lying on the table.

"Why? Do you read any of his works?" It was really just a good-natured question, after all.

"Not really, well, except the usual stuff required for Highschool, If I ever see students trying to act Romeo and Juilett again... well, that's better off not said."

"I don't know about electronic readers though, books are ment to be held, to be paper. The written word is to powerful to entierly trust to electronics. Besides, you never have to worry about a crash or virus with paper." Devon lookes around the relativly quiet shop. "I should poabably be going soon, I still have to unpack." Devan sighed. "THe joy of being a transfer student in the winter."

"I agree with you there," she said, and placed her hands- which she politely folded- in her lap.

"That's true, too, though. Plus, after a while of the same voice hammering into your head, the book kind of loses the feel and becomes boring, I'd imagine."

And then, suddenly, it hit her, "They do sell books on audio tapes though. For the blind, I guess. Or something like that."

"Yeah, unpacking kind of sucks. College, I assume?"

"So they claim... I don't really see the diffrence other than in size though." Devon contemplated moving from his chair. "The students may be in college, but they might as well still be in junior high. I think maturity must be one of those over rated qualites you hear so much about."

"Who would have thought that your life could be packed up into a meer handful of boxes untill college came about?"

"I suppose you could say that. Sometimes it might as well be true, too. Myself, I've never been to college, so I wouldn't personally actually know. To me, it was just another school." She shrugged, still caught in the middle of a thought, almost.

"Don't know. Depends. I don't really think life can be packed into boxes. Things can be packed in boxes, really, but not exactly life."

"Well, some legends of Death have him comming around collecting souls into matchboxes... but that is the exception the to norm. However, in a way, your posessions, those that had been your room someway define yourself while you are with your parents. The books, the posters, they all reflect parts of you that may not be quite so visible from a conversation on the streed." Devan looked off into the space behind the girls head."
"You know, I don't think we have been introduced,' devan looked at his book, debating if he wanted to give his name to the stranger, 'Devan Tabor."

"Eh. That's one way to look at it," she replied, referring to the comment about the legends of Death. Sure, she believed in majick, but certainly not Death. That god was so... overrated.

"Yeah. The way you walk, talk, act, look, and whatever else defines you, too, though. Though I believe they could equally define a person. It's all in the matter of opinion, almost." She rolled her shoulders into a slight shrug.

"Oh, yes. Forgive my poor manners. Aris; Aris Lamour. Pleasure to meet you."