two.

[thraxios]

The number of books available in the library is astounding. If not for the lack of comfortable bedding, I think I should be content to live there permanently.

I've started with books of philosophy; the selection is wide and many of the writers, unknown to me. They do present a curious problem, however, since most of them come from unfamiliar cultures.

A great number expect familiarity with a figure called Jesus Christ, which has stymied me for the moment. From what I've been able to gather, he was the central martyr or pacifist god of a mystery cult (perhaps both?). It seems a remarkably well-traveled one, which makes it all the more intriguing.

Reading with that assumption in mind is enough to make sense of the text. It's clear, however, that a deeper familiarity with the cult's theological tenets is required to fully appreciate the writers' arguments.

If anyone reading this is better acquainted with "Christianity," any recommendations for introductory readings would be appreciated. Its holy texts are rather long, and thus far, they offer little in the way of context.

[And if you're interested in bugging him, Gideon can be found in the library. He's sitting a table stacked high with books and sheets of paper, on which he's taking careful notes with pen and ink. Someday we've gotta introduce this boy to ballpoint pens. Among the open books are an atlas open to a map of the Mediterranean, several books of philosophy, a King James Bible, and his wax tablet (just in case).]

Comments

[heloise]

Perhaps. [ She likes the thought of redemption anyway. More is better. ]

I could read you Aquinas.

[thraxios]

[This is an offer Gideon didn't expect. Really didn't expect.]

Are you fond of reading aloud?

[heloise]

Are you fond of listening?

[thraxios]

I am a far better listener than speaker.

[heloise]

Good. I am fond of company.

[thraxios]

As am I. [Here, anyway.]

My name is Gideon Thraxios.

[heloise]

Lucrezia Borgia. Call me Lucrezia.

[thraxios]

Lucrezia, then.

I have few obligations here - at your leisure, we can read.

[heloise]

Come to the mansion near the city.

[ Though not so near, but she's not the most considerate. ]

[thraxios]

This afternoon.

((OOC: Shall we action-spam it?))

absolutely!

[heloise]

[ He certainly can. The mansion itself is some forty minutes walk away from the castle, a rather imposing structure even when marked by a large crack in the courtyard and one wing obviously scarred by the recent quake. The rest stands untouched.

He would be greeted by a plain maid when he arrives and asked to wait in a sitting room with many and mismatched couches. There would be flowers in a vase nearby. Madonna lilies. ]

[thraxios]

[Having lived first in the Bastion and then in the Mirador, a mere mansion isn't overly imposing to Gideon; after all, it has windows. It's still undeniably elegant, though, and there's much to look at while he catches his breath. (A forty minutes' walk is rather long even if you haven't brought anything with you save a wax tablet and stylus.)

He awaits Lucrezia on one of the sofas, considering the room's design in a vague, detached sort of way.]

[heloise]

[ And the maid comes back, muttering a few words under her breath for him to follow. Lucrezia can be hospitable but she has always preferred people to come to her. He would be lead through many hallways and two flights of stairs to reach another sitting room with the fire burning low.

She is seated on the floor among many pillows, playing with the feathery end of a pen to tease a calico kitten. If she notices the door opening, she doesn't seem to show it. ]

[thraxios]

[This is a game Gideon has played before, too, though not in recent years; after returning from that ill-fated trip back to Kekropia, he was far less likely to find himself in conversation with others interested in feigning ignorance to their surroundings. It's something that set his teeth on edge before, and doubly so now that he can't announce his presence with a word or two.

He pauses a few steps away from Lucrezia to write out a message in his tablet, in particularly careful handwriting. He's willing to give this a try since he's here--even if the prospect is less appealing now that they're in the same room--and he'd like to make a good impression.

Well. As good an impression as a tongueless man of forty-five might.]

Good afternoon, Lucrezia.

[heloise]

[ At least she isn't entirely ignoring him, sitting up straighter and holding on to the cat with both arms as she looks up at him expectantly. What's this, a coded message for her to read? She finds the entire thing rather charming, chuckling and holding out a hand so she can lead him to sit beside her. ]

Gideon Thraxios. Did I say it right?

[thraxios]

[Yes, being ignored entirely is often rather worse--and he reminds himself that this isn't the Mirador and shouldn't be approached as though it is. He'll be on his guard regardless, but after a challenging conversation like the one they had, he would do well to give the woman a chance. (Besides, what does he have to look forward to if he doesn't? A forty minute walk and little else.)

Gideon gives her his hand and allows himself to be seated next to her, glancing briefly at the kitten she's cradling. At her question, he smiles a bit and nods, an expression that turns a bit wry when he writes his answer.]

You'll forgive me, I hope, for failing to return the favour.

[heloise]

So long as you spell my name right, I shall not mind.

[ She chuckles too, pleased to know he can hear her perfectly well, whether or not this tablet is a need or a chosen method. They can talk about that later. She holds up the cat with both hands and bumps her nose against its face before offering it for him to hold, should he wish. ]

This one is Lucy.

[thraxios]

[Gideon isn't overly familiar with or fond of animals, so he watches somewhat blankly as Lucrezia pets the creature, then--oh, he realizes, slightly befuddled by this entire thing. She wants him to acknowledge it as well. He reaches out with two fingers and cautiously strokes the cat between the ears.]

A pleasure, I'm sure.

[heloise]

[ She laughs at his response to the cat, no cuddling then. The pet gets a kiss on its head before she lets it go to play with a woven ball. She has the large book she mentioned beside her already, Aquinas, as promised. ]

Will you read me something in return for this?

[thraxios]

[He shrugs, palms up, and shakes his head. Despite his lack of interest in the cat, his eyes follow it as it bats at its toy; he needs a moment to decide what to write in reply.]

I'm afraid that's beyond my abilities.

[heloise]

[ She's still watching him curiously, having met enough of the Castle's guess to know that the reason for his muteness might as well exceed her imagination. It does nothing to quell her curiosity though. ]

Then we will find another way, surely.

[thraxios]

[Gideon shrugs. Had he his speech, he wouldn't mind reading or reciting aloud; as it is, every option available seems destined to end in ridicule.]

For now, let us try to muddle through Aquinas.

[heloise]

[ If he says so! She skips the prologue and goes for the first question, reading it in correct Latin. ]

Et ut intentio nostra sub aliquibus certis limitibus comprehendatur, necessarium est primo investigare de ipsa sacra doctrina, qualis sit, et ad quae se extendat. Circa quae quaerenda sunt decem: primo, de necessitate huius doctrinae.

[thraxios]

[Latin is, in fact, still a scholar's language in Gideon's world, though it goes by a different name there. It's also his native tongue. His eyebrows shoot up when Lucrezia begins to read, and he scribbles out a comment, waiting to hand her the tablet until she comes to an appropriate stopping point.]

You speak Kekropian.

[After a moment, he changes the period to an exclamation point. He's genuinely surprised--and quite pleased, at that.]

[heloise]

Kekropian?

[ Pardon her butchering the pronunciation of that now, Gideon, but she does laugh. ]

We call it Latin. Language of the poets and the scholars.