A Window to the Past

[Thalia]

Nikolskaya Street; a book lover’s haven. The knowledge to be found here was obscure and Thalia liked that; like a winding river of unknown, so much hidden and lost. Lost beneath the waves. Of course anything she specifically wanted she bought online, like most people, but she was also fond of browsing – particularly when her interests were vague, or she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for. Like now.

Thal dipped in and out of most of the bookstores here with semi-regularity, though she had her favourites (not that she actually even knew their names, since they were all in Russian; she just remembered them by sight). Already she’d wandered through perhaps half a dozen, meandering thoughtfully amidst the dusty shelves without much care for time; one of the perks of being her own boss.

A couple of newly purchased books weighed down the satchel slung over one shoulder – none of them actually pertaining to the whim that had driven her to Nikolskaya, but that was hardly unusual; her apartment was crammed with such impulse buys. Getting them to the apartment, though; that was the trick. With her sketchbook and other essentials in there, the buckles on her bag wouldn’t actually pull closed. One more shop, just one more.

She’d been saying that for the past three.

Pleasant chimes marked her entrance. The proprietor glanced up, then squinted, until eventually her brows rose in indifferent recognition, which was about as much a hello as Thalia could expect. She smiled a greeting anyway – those kind of manners cost nothing – and half leant on the counter, mostly to ease her shoulder of its burden for a moment.

"Looking for?"

The smile deepened to an impish sort of grin, because there was such a flat look on the old woman’s face - she almost looked resigned. "Norse today. Specifically Jörmungandr. A bit of Yggdrasil."

"Hmph." After a moment of thought, the woman just waved her on, which usually meant that yes, there was something useful somewhere, but occasionally meant that actually she had no idea. Thalia supposed there were a lot of books; so many in fact, that some of them had probably been here years.

"Thanks."

She knew the store well enough to find her own way to the right shelf, though upon arriving discovered that she didn't have the place to herself. And the guy looked; well, he looked like the sort of person who would be displeased by interruption. Severity cast a heavy shadow on his profile, though perhaps he was just focussed on the books. And the coat. It was so thick, and bulky as though he'd crammed layers underneath as well. Too clean looking to be a vagrant, though - and especially not in the middle of the reputed Nikolskaya street. Tourist then? Someone used to warmer climes, apparently. A low laugh hummed from her throat.

"You know it's summer, right?" Thal wore a jacket over a girlish blouse, but it was only light. Moscow was not exactly known for its baking heat, but then neither was England; she supposed she was accustom to it - and at least it wasn't raining. When he looked up - if he even did - he'd find her grinning, though the tease was evident in her voice anyway. If such banter was completely inappropriate with a stranger she showed not an ounce of self-consciousness. "Sorry, just want to squeeze passed. And I didn't exactly want to risk knocking you head-first into a shelf." She indicated the bag jutting out from where it hung beside her thigh. The aisles were wide enough for two people to pass comfortably enough without it, and even with it she probably wouldn't have pushed into him, but it wouldn've involved some awkward shuffling.