(no subject)

[just_cant_lose]

 
Jim circa. 1992 wanders in wrapped up in a thick winter coat, scarf, hat, gloves, the lot. Without missing a beat he continues walking, shedding clothes as he goes until he's in just jeans and a T-shirt, dumping everything else into a chair. Bar lends him a pair of swimming shorts and towel, which he swaps for a bag stuffed full of books. He takes a glass of lemonade with him, and disappears off to the Caribbean inlet for a good long swim.

He's back when the sun gets low, perched on a bar stool with a decent base tan, and dripping water everywhere. He wipes his face with the towel, and says, 'okay, can I see it, please?'

The Book of Kells appears in front of him. He uses a dry bit of towel to open it up, because ancient manuscripts don't mix well with salt water and he might decide to sell it after all. In the meantime, he'll brush up on his Latin and admire the artwork. What a lovely day it's been. 


[OOC: Catch him inside or out.]

Comments

[manythorned]

He is dripping water everywhere, including on Rose's shoes. But that's okay. It's not that big of a deal. It does make her watch him for a minute and when the book appears for him she can't help but be curious.

"Are you borrowing it?"

[just_cant_lose]

'No.'

He glances over, and cocks his eyebrow at what he sees.

'Or maybe yeah, in a way.'

He is not going to apologise about the shoes, so it's good it's not a big deal.

[manythorned]

She's not much older than he is. She swivels her stool to face him, a glass of coke in front of her.

"Are you going to steal it?"

[just_cant_lose]

Jim blinks at her. Then he carefully gives the book a long stare, then looks back at her.

Hard to steal something that's already in your possession, no?

Still, he only waits a beat or two before adding, 'it doesn't belong to the bar.'

Perhaps that will clarify matters.

[manythorned]

Maybe he wasn't going to give it back. How does she know?

"Oh. Is it yours? It looks pretty."

[just_cant_lose]

'It is now.'

It does look very pretty. Very, very pretty and very, very old. Jim swipes his towel over his hair and decides to err on the side of caution, asking Bar for a glove which she duly provides.

'You look new.'

[manythorned]

Rose nods, taking a sip of her coke.

"I first came here a couple of weeks ago. I'm Rose."

[just_cant_lose]

Awwww, practically a virgin. Jim grins, looking younger than sixteen when dressed in virtually nothing and with spiky hair. Almost friendly, even.

'Jim. How'd you like it so far?'

[manythorned]

Friendly is good!

"It's fun but really weird. I had a hard time believing it at first."

[likeroaringlions]

There's someone else looking at the book now, leaning over Jim's shoulder with a drink. "So what's all that? Vae autem praegnantibus..."

[just_cant_lose]

'Don't spill anything on it.'

Jim doesn't look back, but still flicks one end of his towel back in William's direction.

He's also one to talk, being the one dripping wet.

'It's from before even your time.'

[likeroaringlions]

"I'm not a fucking savage, I know how to treat a book." See, he's not spilling! "So what are you doing with it?"

[just_cant_lose]

Jim silence says everything necessary about his opinion on William's savagery or lack thereof, but he doesn't push it for once.

'It's mine.'

[likeroaringlions]

"Fucking man of culture, me," he continues, muttered. "In Rome and everything. --So, what, you've come over all religious?"

[just_cant_lose]

'I have. Repenting of all my sins, all of that. I've turned to the Holy Spirit and the Blessed Virgin to help purge me of evil.'

He sounds like he means it! He is definitely wearing a very contrite expression as he examines the beautiful art.

[likeroaringlions]

"About damn time, Jim." He leans in a little more. It's a pretty good book. Old-fashioned, but good.

[just_cant_lose]

'Careful,' he murmurs, still not looking back at him. 'Get too close, and you'll lead me straight back to temptation.'

Okay, suddenly sounding much less sincere. He's also internally amused that William would come anywhere near him when he's just in swimming stuff, and also in full remembrance of their last couple of interactions. Jim doesn't forget people who smack him in the face.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric knows he should be avoiding Jim at all costs. And at all ages. But the manuscript catches his eyes, the artwork of almost the same vintage as himself.

He glances at the page in passing, a smile on his lips. "Such poetry." He says, almost to himself.

{ooc: probable insto-slow but just had to tag.}

[just_cant_lose]

[OOC: HEE, quality.]

'Thanks,' Jim says, also quietly but unmistakably cocksure. Because he is poetry, particularly when wearing very few clothes.

But he does grin at the stranger afterwards, as if to prove he knows he meant the book. Though why anyone would would look at the book when's he's right there, he has no idea.

[thewidewideworld]

Sorry Jim, you're so desperately not Sinric's type. He prefers his men sane. Well, relatively. Sinric gestures to the book. "May I?"

[just_cant_lose]

Jim will find a way to cope. He shrugs in the meantime, and wipes water off his face.

'If you like. Wear gloves.'

Bar has provided a couple of pairs, made from some material Jim hasn't seen before. She's also been storing it in the correct temperature-controlled way. Jim is looking after it, if only because he might still sell the thing.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric frowns at the gloves but puts them on, changing the page. He reads aloud, his voice lyrical and flowing as he recites the Latin prayers.

[just_cant_lose]

Jim frowns at the frown, and says, 'what?' the next time Sinric pauses for breath.

He probably should be listening to Sinric's voice but he grew up Catholic. He's had his fill of pointless rituals recited in dead languages.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gestures to the page. "Think not that I have come only to bring peace in the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but joy. Not an entirely accurate translation from the Greek but more poetic than the original."

[just_cant_lose]

'I get the Latin. I was asking what you were pulling faces at.'

Peace and joy. Yay.