(no subject)

[ladyfirestarter]

The permanent door from Milliways opens onto a hallway that looks like it could be a teacher's area in a primary school. Drawings and photographs are tacked up on the walls; the doors leading off the hallway are painted a calm pale-rose color, and each has a nameplate on it. (The closest one reads IRENE TASSENBAUM. It's locked; Irene's out today.)

Charlie steps aside to let her guest through. "Welcome to Taos."

Comments

[thisfatefulhour]

"Oh." Soft.

"No," he agrees, looking at the faces around him. "Never."

[walk_ins]

Another face appears around the corner of a bookshelf, staring at him solemnly.

[thisfatefulhour]

He looks up and catches her gaze.

And breaks into a smile.

She does have blue eyes.

[walk_ins]

She does. And those eyes are fixed on him.

Her smile is tentative and shy, and she doesn't come any closer.

[thisfatefulhour]

He won't push for contact, any more than he would with any of the other kids. But he returns her smile warmly, and looks around at the others.

"Thank you, by the way," he tells them, "for letting me intrude."

[walk_ins]

"It ain't," Leon mutters, but doesn't elaborate.

[thisfatefulhour]

He looks up at Leon for a moment, and then around.

"Could any of you show me a bit more of this place? I haven't seen much yet."

[walk_ins]

They exchange glances, and several of them look to Charlie.

"Has the sight," comes a very quiet voice from over by the bookshelves.

[thisfatefulhour]

Another look towards her -- her voice carries, in the quiet of the library.

"A little."

[walk_ins]

"It's why you came," she says, a little louder, looking intently at a point just over his right shoulder. "Listened to the wind."

[thisfatefulhour]

Watching her face, he smiles.

"When I finally gave up trying to walk against it."

[walk_ins]

"Inherently flawed metaphor," mutters Beth. "Variances in atmospheric pressure affected by planetary rotation. Little to no semantic content."

A beat, and she scowls up at him. "The Lord was not in the wind."

[thisfatefulhour]

(Lords of snow and rain and wind
Do you know the one you send?)

To Beth -- "Maybe sometimes. But that all depends on how you see it, doesn't it?"

[walk_ins]

"Does it call for tears or mirth?"

Zillah takes a step closer, one trailing hand still brushing the shelves.

[thisfatefulhour]

Charles looks up at her, and is silent for a long moment.

Then, very softly -- "Today is a day for mirth."

He stands up, a little stiff, and smiles at her. "Hi, Zillah."

[walk_ins]

She smiles at him, very small and very bright.

"Hi."

[thisfatefulhour]

Smiling back, he glances at Beth, then back to Zillah.

"Not the Old Man's daughter?"

[walk_ins]

The smile dims and fades. She looks down, and her hands twist together in front of her.

"No."

[thisfatefulhour]

"Hey."

He ducks his head, trying to catch her gaze again.

"That's okay. I came to meet Zillah" -- he looks at the others in turn -- "and Leon, and all the kids Charlie told me about."

Back to Zillah, gently -- "Not the Old Man's daughter."

[walk_ins]

"Somewhere I have never travelled --"

She stares at him, blue eyes intent with the need to communicate.

"Yes is a world," she says earnestly, "and in this world of yes live -- skilfully curled -- all worlds."

[thisfatefulhour]

He blinks, thinking; then his expression clears and he replies, "Gladly beyond any experience . . ."

[walk_ins]

Zillah's face lights up in sudden delighted recognition.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
"Strangers meet," she says, half-laughing.

[thisfatefulhour]

He grins.

"But all we did that day was mingle great and small footprints in summer dust."

This could rapidly get pretty obscure.

[ladyfirestarter]

(Watching this at a distance of a few yards, Charlie has to lift a hand to her mouth to hide a smile.)

[walk_ins]

Grinning back, with a touch of mischief, Zillah counters: "Like a long-legged fly upon the stream, his mind moves upon silence."

Blowing out an exasperated sigh, Beth ducks back under the table.