Ever since coming to the land, Xene had come to quite love one thing: writing. This was good as it was the only form of communication she had with those that did not speak Mermish but even so, she had become quite fond of penmanship and writing and everything to do with written word in any form. She loved quills in particular, loving the way they looked as feathers were not something that existed beneath the lake surface. The beauty of quills and parchment and different types of ink were not lost on her and she had spent most spending money she was given on various types of those three things. She had quite a collection of different inks and parchment and quills - all of which she adored and used - but even so she felt that she wanted to peruse what else might be hidden in the quill shop.

With Nero's maid - Adalind - she walked down high street, for once looking almost as though she fit in. Her hair was puled back in a fancy way, long hair attempting to have curling tendrils but the massive length of it made them rather loose indeed. Her dark dress was one almost as lovely as the more fanciful of dresses and it suited her perfectly. Though it was still impossible to get her to keep a corset on for any amount of time, she still had on many of the other layers that were common to woman's fashion of the day and if not for her odd coloring she might have been what one would consider a handsome young woman. But even though she felt she fit in great at that time, there were still those who looked at her with revulsion and fear. Thankfully this fact was one that the young mermaid remained oblivious to as she walked down High Street and towards the quill shop.

Opening the door to the shop she smiled broadly, forgetting to be wary of her sharp and intimidating looking teeth and walked into the shop and removing her heavy cloak so that her arms would be easier to move about. She found human clothing to be so constricting! It was the biggest thing she felt was difficult to get used to above water: wearing clothes at all times. She didn't when she slept in the tub, though Adalind had tried rather profusely to get her to do such. Though she was getting more used to it, she still much preferred wearing minimal clothing. Night dresses were her favorite wear around Nero's home - her new home - when she knew there would be no visitors and she would be remaining in for the day.

Grabbing the little pad of parchment and self inking quill and walked over to the man she knew to be the owner of the shop. Getting his attention in a way that she tried to make subtle (but likely failed at) she handed him the piece of parchment that read Do you have any big journals? in her scrawl that was getting better by the day.

outfit-ish

Nat spent more time in his shop than he really needed to. He had employees, after all, and a man of his self-made station wasn't necessarily meant to work so often, but he just got so bored. He read often, he always had, but he hadn't gotten around to getting any new books lately, and he'd spent the last couple of days practicing his French ù which was abysmal ùábut it just wasn't cutting it anymore. He needed something to do, or someone to talk to. He nearly bounded out of the back room when he heard the door open, his hands fidgeting restively against the layers of his clothes to straighten them as he moved to stand behind the register.



He recognized her ù he had a head for names and faces ù and unfortunately he quickly realized he wasn't going to get much of a conversation from her. She was strange to look at, that was for sure. Dark hair with a greenish hue, skin coloring more than a little off, and when she smiled her teeth were bizarrely sharp. Nat was, however, nothing if not impeccably behaved, and so he just grinned broadly as she approached him, her chaperone close at hand.



"Good afternoon," he offered, leaning over the counter as she wrote down her request, his fingers drumming against the wood as he read, mouthing the words before nodding animatedly. "Yes, yes, of course, love ù big how, though?" he asked, even as he adjust his hat and walked out from behind the counter, approaching one of the shelving units where he kept most of the bound paper.



"I've got big bindings with smaller pages ù but I'd imagine you're looking to write more, right? Er, right as in correct not, you know..." he mimed writing broadly in the air, [b]"write. So then these have larger pages, and I've some with more pages and some with fewer pages, depends on the thickness of the parchment, really. How durable do you want it? And any care for how ù" Nat broke off, clearing his throat as he turned back around to face her, a rueful smile in place. He gestured very animatedly just as a general matter of course, and she'd been to see him before, so he assumed she could at least sort of follow him, as he pointed to various journals, but he did realize it was hard for even normal people to keep up with him.



"Give us a mo," he said, though he knew she wouldn't understand, turning just as abruptly back to the counter to find some parchment and a quill, scrawling out a quick, any other specifications? and handing it to her, his hands folded in front of him, thumbs twiddling.

Xene always enjoyed her trips here. The man that owned the place was animated and though oftentimes she couldn't understand him, watching his mannerisms was always amusing. She didn't have a mind to wonder if he realized that she couldn't understand his words so she usually just went along with him and listened to his voice that made absolutely no sense to her. Either way she rather enjoyed watching him make his movements and try to convey things to her. If it got too out of hand, however, Adalind would step in and just tell him what was going on. But Xene liked it like this. After all, she had nowhere to be so there was no harm in just hanging out there.

Of course, in Xene's mind it wasn't at all odd for her to just hang around one place all day. She didn't have a social life. She didn't have friends aside from Nero and Abigail and others at the Bloxam household. She didn't have a job - couldn't get one and didn't think to have one anyways - and she didn't have friends from her childhood on land. She was completely free of any sort of obligations and as such was able to frivolously spend her time on things she liked. And right now she needed a new journal for she was going to write a story that she had brewing in her mind. She had a diary for personal things and had already filled two journals full of stories and proses of various sorts.

To Xene, writing was an amazing thing. Concocting stories and putting words together. She had been working on her vocabulary, reading more and learning new words and was becoming even more proficient in writing than she had previously been. So of course she spent as much time as possible in the quill shop - looking at the various journals and quills that were sold there. She liked ornate ones - the ones that looked striking and caught the eye. Things were rather simple under the lake surface most of the time so the artisanship that land walkers had was something she greatly enjoyed. It was so very different from her own home and she was quite enamored with it.

When he walked back over to the counter and scribbled something on parchment, she went to write on hers once more: Lots of pages and a pretty cover. She wasn't overly picky, truth be told. Most everything was pretty to her and so finding what she wanted shouldn't have been terribly difficult a job. She showed the shop keeper her parchment and smiled. She couldn't wait to get her new journal and start writing in it!

Lots of pages and a pretty cover, Nat read tapping a finger as he thought for a moment. He had assumed that she wanted it to communicate, hence his insistence at large pages, but if she hadn't any specifications of that ilk he just about had the world to offer her. He stood up straight, hands pressed into the counter before him as he surveyed his store thoughtfully, humming slightly under his breath. This was why he stuck around the store so much ù he was of the upper echelon now, he didn't necessarily need to work so much as continue to profit from his name attached to the quill, parchment, and ink store. It was distracting. Not so much fun, but anything that could keep him from noticing what he was running on was a fixed wheel was good.



"Right then," he said thoughtfully, stepping away from his counter only to double back a second later and grab the parchment and quill he'd need to communicate with her. He moved toward the same corner they'd been in with broad, ungainly steps reminiscent of an uncoordinated baby giraffe before leaning toward the shelf on tip-toe and grabbing something from the top shelf.



It was large, even in his hand, and oddly square, though if she were looking to fit as much as possible on a page it would serve her well, however unusual. The covers were dark, nearly black leather or some facsimile, he didn't know, with an undertone of green that only showed in the proper light ù quite like her, hence the connection. In the less-than-brightly-lit back corner of his shop he knew it looked quite dull, so he held up a finger to her and then sloughed back over to the front, where he held the journal up so the cover was lit by the sun outside through the window. It gleemed a soft, slightly metallic green beneath the black, and the light fell across the ridges in the cover design. It was abstract and textured, with graceful loops and swirls. It was quite pretty, he'd always thought. He hoped she thought so, too, because it was too damn high on the shelves for most to see, and he'd be pleased to get rid of it.



He offered to hand the journal to her for her inspection before pressing the paper against his right palm and scrawling with his left hand: There are many pages, but I can add more if you wish.

When he went back to the corner they had just been in, she followed and watched as he got a thick journal down. It was shaped differently than most were - much more squared - but the dark covers with intricate swirls were instantly attractive to her. She was about ready to commit to buying it when he held up a finger and moved back towards the front of the shop. She followed once more and when he held the cover up and she saw the light hit it - causing it to shimmer in a green tint - she knew for sure that it was the journal she wanted to buy that day. It was beautiful and she was almost sad when he closed it and handed it to her.

She felt the design with her fingers and opened the book, looking at the clean parchment that was bound within. He wrote something to her that she read and she got out her little note pad and wrote This will do perfectly with a smile on her face. As soon as she showed him the paper she went back to inspecting her book. It really was perfect and she most looked forward to getting it but it felt so odd to get a new book and use one of her old quills and ink to write in it. Perhaps it was frivolous but she didn't spend money too terribly often though she was given an allowance of sorts. So she got her paper and prepared to write once more.

Do you have any quick drying ink? And a quill of similar coloring to the book? She showed him the paper, proud that her writing was becoming better by the day. She had been reading the humans book of words and was getting much better at the vocabulary that they used. So that she made more sense now than she used to was a source of great pride for the mer who had only slightly more than rudimentary writing skills when she first came to land. She hoped that he would have something for her to match this book. It seemed a shame to get such a wonderful and beautiful new journal and write in it with the same, old quill.

Perhaps it was frivolous of her, but it was money she was allowed and she would spend it how she pleased. She didn't, after all, go out buying and abundance of other things. Most of her money was spent on tea or writing supplies. Even if it was frivolous of her, it wasn't as though she had a mind to really notice such a thing. She was still infinitely naive when it came to some aspects of life on land.

When he'd first opened his shop, thing had been much cheaper. Of course, some of the increase was to do with inflation and some of it was to do with the bettering of his reputation, but it was also to do with his modest upbringing. He'd been solidly situated in the middle class as a child, but mostly in appearance ù no one would have called Nat poor in Hogwarts, because his father paid his tuition, and often sent him some money for other necessities. To him, not to his mother. So Nat had split his sporadic allowance with his mother once he had everything he needed to keep people from looking askance at the halfblood living with his muggle mother. It left him very conscious of prices.

As such, he'd charged as little as he could when he first opened, but as the years went on the cheapness of his trade faded away with his memories of what it was like to pass on trips to Hogsmeade with friends for lack of expendable income. He didn't usually even think of how deep his customers' pockets may or may not be ù his snobbery was accidental, more the result of absentmindedness than airs, and although he seldom sold things that were outrageous, concern for people's pocketbooks didn't occur to him as a matter of course.

Nat beamed when she appeared pleased with what he offered, bouncing forward a bit on the balls of his toes before reading over her response, a giggle bursting forth to illustrate how glad he was she liked it. She made another request, and Nat rolled his head side to side for a beat as he thought before nodding, and tearing off to another shelf.

"Quick drying ink is a snap," Nat said, even though he knew she couldn't understand him. "The quill less so, but that sort of dark coloring with cooler undertones ù I mean, that's what you get in any corvidae, really. Crows, ravens, jackdaws, rooks ù I love a good rook feather, me ù that dark with some bright in the right light, but it's just a matter of finding the right one..." he trailed off, mentally noting that he really needed to find something to do with his time, because this was tantamount to talking to himself. He turned around to face her, resting one bent arm on the shelf and tucking the other into the pocket of his trousers as he smiled just a touch smugly and gestured.

The particular shelf he was leaning on had a series of Corvidae quills, as he'd said, particularly the darker ones, as he'd also said. All were black with varying degrees of blue, purple, and green to be seen in the proper light. They were simpler than, say, Ostrich quills ù short and sleek and none too ostentatious ù but if she was looking to match her journal, he figured these were her best bet. Standing straight again, he wrote quickly, simple, but I think you'd not want anything larger and falsely coloured ù don't look nearly so nice as natural, in my expert opinion.

It was perhaps not so good a thing that Xene was so willing to follow someone who was basically a stranger. When he went of towards another shelf she followed with a smile on her face. He started speaking again and though she had no clue what his words were, she continued to smile. She looked at the quills that were there and figured that must be what he was talking about. She read the words he wrote eagerly and then looked at the quills more closely. They were all so lovely and she couldn't quite decide which exact one that she wanted.

She started fingering gently through the quills until she found one that appealed to her. It was black with a faint green sheen - the exact type of quill she would need - and she smiled as she picked it up and showed it to him then nodded eagerly to show that this was the one she wanted. She ran her finger over the edge of the quill softly, enjoying the soft feel of it against her skin. They didn't have things like these under the lake.

Grabbing once more her parchment and self inking quill she wrote All I need now is ink. She was in no particular hurry she supposed but Adalind was being rather antsy and she was anxious to go home and begin writing in her new journal. She had many things to write in it - her mind was always bustling with thoughts and she couldn't wait to write some of them down. She'd even show it to Nero! He'd surely think it very lovely indeed. She certainly could not wait to get it back to Wellingtonshire now!

He giggled a bit as she picked out her quill, pleased that she'd found what she wanted. Her next written words were inquiring about ink, and Nat nodded ù that would be simple enough. He gestured for her to follow him as he headed down yet another aisle, grabbing a small vial of ink and palming it before wheeling back to the front counter. He was so used to milling about his shop that he tended to go almost too quickly, though of course she had time to catch up and meet him in the front as he began to add her purchases up.

Nat grinned up at her as he wrote down her total on his piece of parchment, waiting for her to place the journal and quill on the counter so that he might wrap them up to make them easier to carry. As she did so, he wrote: the ink dries quickly, super smooth ù if you don't like it, feel free to bring it back. I'm always here.

As before she followed him from place to place. When he went to retrieve the ink, she followed beside him and looked at everything else she could take in as she followed behind him. There were colorful quills and inks and journals all around the shop. Everything was so beautiful and she was once again stricken by how amazing the world could be on land. There were so many things they had that she didn't. These shops that catered to different things, utensils for writing and reading - all these things were exclusive to the land walkers and it just amazed her how different they were from her own people. She couldn't believe how much she still had to learn even though she'd had human friends for as long as she could remember.

Even though there were many wondrous items indeed in the shop, she was rather content with her purchase and placed the items on the counter as she knew she was supposed to do. When he wrote down the total she pointed it out ot Adalind who then took out her coin purse and paid the man. She read his final not and nodded happily. Thank you so much. I'm sure it's wonderful. was what she wrote in reply. Giving him a smile and a wave, she took her newly wrapped purchases and left the shop, eager to get back home - her new home - to put them to use.