fandomtownies | Aereopagitica, 9 November

Current Mood: calm
Current Location: Aereopagitica

Entry tags:

$book haven

Aereopagitica, 9 November

Giles is there, coffee and cranberry scones to hand. He's reading Augustine today.

Magnus es, domine, et laudabilis valde: magna virtus tua, et sapientiae tuae non est numberus. Et laudare te vult homo, aliqua portio creaturae tuae, et homo cicumferens mortalitatem suam, circumferens testimonium peccati sui et testimonium, quia superbis resistis: et tamen laudare te vult homo, aliquaportio creaturae tuae.

Great are you, Lord, and You ought to be praised: great is Your virtue, and Your wisdom is without enumeration. Man, as part of Your creation, ought to praise You, man, carrying his mortality around with him, carrying testimony of his sin around with him, which is resisted by the proud, even still man ought to praise You, as another portion of Your creation.

[OOC: Hee. Yes, I did the translation myself to get into gear for next semester. Not bad, eh?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Exarsi enim aliquando satiari inferis in adulescentia, et silvescere ausus sum variis et umbrosis amoribus, et contabuit species mea, et conputrui coram oculis tuis, placens mihi et placere cupiens oculis hominum.

And so I burned in my youth, and had my fill of hell, and I dared to grow wild again, and to have the love of shadows. My good looks faded away, and I was putrid even in Your eyes, pleasing myself, and desiring to please the eyes of men.

Dawn groaned as soon as she got a good look at Giles. "You've got your 'Aren't declensions fun' face on."

"Good heavens, no." Giles looked dryly perplexed. "Declensions aren't ever fun."

A sly grin spread across his face.

"Conjugations, on the other hand... Oh, and don't get me started on the subjunctive mood..."

More groaning as she plopped onto one of the couches. "I don't remember agreeing that you could torture me, Giles."

"Ah, but I have only just begun." Giles hauled a large cardboard box out from under the counter.

It was nearly full of different colored chalks.

"I need these sorted by color, please."

Dawn stared at him, then at the box. "Any particular color order?" She sighed. "I wouldn't want to have to be this anal twice."

"No, no order. Just keep greens with greens, blues with blues, pinks with pinks, and so on." He handed Dawn a box of zip-lock baggies.

Dawn took the baggies. "Color matching here I come," she said, taking the box and sitting down at one of the tables. "I wish I didn't understand why this was important. Then I could complain you were just being a dork."

"Ah, the burden of knowledge."

"Cuts into a good whining session," she said with a snort. "So, what's new and not coming to attack us from Gilesland?"

"Not much, actually. I've been doing a little research on vampiric bloodlines, but it's not yielding much in the way of results.

"And how are things on the, er, frontier that is Dawn? Caused any time-space rifts lately?" Giles smiled at her, making the parental kind of joke only he could make.

"Oh? Howcome?" Dawn asked, holding a dusty piece of chalk up to the light, trying to decide whether it was white or pink. "And not today, but it's not over yet. Oh! I'm going to Vegas this weekend for a class, so obviously I won't be around."

She decided not to mention Sam and Dean were also going.

"Aside from the Order of Aurelius, not many vampires keep track of their actual bloodlines. A couple of groups that aspire to something like the Order, but they are, ah, few and far between. It's part of a, I guess you could say, comparative study I'm doing with someone. The vampires in some of these other dimensions are considerably less," he took off his glasses and sought for the right word, "elemental than the ones we know." No need to mention non-soulless vampires to Dawn. No, not at all.

"Vegas? As in Las Vegas? What class is sending you to Las Vegas?" Giles's parental antennae were practically quivering.

"Prophecy," Dawn said, putting some green chalk into a baggie. "Less elemental? Like...earthier?"

"What could you possibly prophetize in Las Vegas? That people will lose lots of money? You could do that in Akron." Giles actually was very fond of Akron. He'd been through with Xander once or twelve times. In retrospect, it had probably been a bad idea to let the one-eyed man with no depth perception drive. But the alternative had been letting him navigate.

But back to vampires. "No, actually, less earthier. Earthy." Giles blinked. "More...sophisticated. They all rather seem to be like Angel and Spike, rather than the random bloodsuckers, barely aware of who's sired them, that we know and stake. They seem to be like what the poor fools at the Sunset Club thought vampires were like."

"I'm...not completely sure," she frowned, "but it's a free trip to Las Vegas, so I'm going. Plus, it's all snowy in Akron." Maybe.

"Angel and Spike are sophisticated?" Dawn started giggling.

"Frighteningly enough, when compared to many of their brethren, yes. Which just about makes my point." Giles twisted his mouth in a smile.

He sat on his stool behind the counter for a moment, watching Dawn sort chalk. "Although I suppose," he began, "that, since the 'natural habitat,' so to speak, of most prophets is the desert, it makes a certain amount of sense. You will phone if you get any visions of rivers of blood, frogs, or assorted apocalypses, yes?"

"I will definitely call you if anything biblical happens," Dawn promised.

"Very good." Giles squinted at Dawn, suddenly remembering 'his' Dawn's propensity to skip breakfast. He pushed the plate of scones at her. "Here. Have something to eat."

Dawn obediently took a scone, getting chalk dust all over it. "Thanks, Giles."

"You're welcome. What are they feeding you up at that school, anyway?" Giles remembered the food at University and winced.

"Um...stuff?" Dawn answered. "Someone's usually made food in one of the common rooms. It's safer. Sandwiches, fruit, empanadas, pancakes...Dean's really good at Sunday breakfasts."

"Hm." Giles made a noncommittal sound. "Well, if you ever want to, you're more than welcome to raid my larder."

Dawn made a face, but then remembered to translate from the original stuffy British. "Thanks, Giles. That's very nice of you."

"Yes, well," Giles shuffled around, a bit embarrassed to be caught by Dawn being all nurturing and whatnot, "I'll be in the back cataloging a new shipment. Call if you need anything."

She nodded. "You'll be the first to know if the chalk starts to revolt. Or maybe the second, but you'll know."

[ooc: Night! *hands you kitty*]

Veni Karthaginem, et circumstrepebat me uniquie sartago flagitiosorum amorum. Nondum amabam, et amare amabam, et secretiore indigentia oderam me minus indigentem. Quarebam quid amrem, amans amare, et oderam securitatem et viam sine muscipulis, quoniam fames mihi erat intus ab interiore cibo, te ipso, deus meus, et ea fame non esuriebam, sed eram sine disiderio alimentorum incorruptibilium, no quia plenus eis eram, sed quo inanior, fastidiosior.

I came to Carthage, and all around me crackled a frying pan full of abominable loves. I was not in love, but I loved to love, and with a secret loathing I hated myself for needing little. I sought something to love, loving to love, and hating security, the path without snares, because a famine was within me of that spiritual food, You Yourself, my God, even if that famine did not awaken my hunger. But I was without desire for incorruptible nourishment, not because I had plenty of it, but because I was empty, and nauseous.

Per idem tempus annorum novem, ab undevicensimo anno aetatis meae usque ad duodetricensimum, seducebamur et seducebamus, falsi atque fallentes in variis cupiditatibus, et palem per doctrinas, quas liberales vocant, occulte autem falso nomine religionis, hic superbi, ibi superstitiosi,ubique vani...

For nine years, from the age of nineteen to twenty-eight, I was seduced, and I seduced, I was deceived and I deceived in various desires, and though I accomplished this through methods that are called liberal, still pretended to the false name of religion: here proud, there superstitious, everywhere vain...

Some time late afternoon, Jenny swept into the shop and leaned on the counter. "So, Rupert," she said. "How're things going?"

Giles all but dropped his book.

"Jenny! How delightful to see you!"

He smiled. "Things have been good. Quiet, but good. And you?"

"Not so bad here," said Jenny. "Lesson plans are coming along, and I have a good crop of kids this term. Store making you happy?"

"Actually, yes. I have a couple of research projects going along. I visited Willow, Xander, and Buffy this summer and thouroughly discomfited and annoyed them. So I believe I can say my purpose in life is being fulfilled.

What are you teaching this semester?"

"This time around? Intro to Magic," said Jenny. "But I'm thinking of maybe going with psych again next term. Abby's pretty well rocking the computer science around here."

"That's a shame. Er, that the other teacher seems to be doing so well. Ah, that you won't have a chance to do as well, not that you wouldn't do better--" Giles sighed and cleaned his glasses.

"Would you be so kind as to guide me toward the safest and least-boorish answer possible?"

Jenny burst out laughing. "No, no, I think you're just doomed there," she said, covering her mouth wtih one hand. "Got anything to drink on hand? That'll let you make up for it?"

"Will coffee do?" Giles smiled, pleased that he'd made her laugh.

"Coffee will always do," said Jenny, her eyes lighting up. "I don't even need any cream or sugar to bland it up with."

"Great," Giles said, as he rummaged around under the counter for a clean cup. Mirabile, he found one and poured her a cup.

"I sometimes miss teaching. Normal teaching, that is. And then I remember the intellectual vortex of faculty meetings and the feeling passes."

"You know, we've got a good faculty here," said Jenny, wrapping her hands around the mug. "Some of them are a bit creepy, though. I don't talk to most of them too much, really."

"I'll bet the turf fights over the budget are entertaining, though." Giles had been himself considered a gladiator of this particular arena. Not even Principal Skinner had dared question him at budget time.

"Fascinating, really," said Jenny, unable to stop a slight smile from turning up the corners of her mouth when she looked over at Rupert. "In a slightly terrifying way."

"I don't doubt it." Giles smiled back.

OOC: No worries! I had to sleep too. How 'bout we leave Giles and Jenny staring goopily at each other as a FTB kind of thing? And I'll e-mail you later!

Accipe sacrificium confessionum mearum de manu linguae meae, quam formasti et excitasti, ut confiteatur nomini tuo, et sana omnia ossa mea, et dicant: domine, quis similis tibi?

Accept my sacrifice and confession from the hand of my tongue, which You formed and stirred up to confess to Your name, and make sound all my bones, so they might say, "Lord, who is like You?"

Whoopee! It hasn't all dribbled out my ears!

Granted, it's Augustine, which is nice, clean, easily understood Latin, but still...

Wait, wait, is something wrong with the world? We're online and on Fandom High at the same time? *looks around for signs of apocalypse*

Hrm. You have time for Jenny to bop in, if we take it easy throughout the night?

Most definitely!

Hooray! And hooray for taking it easy too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Aereopagitica, 9 November

Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Re: Morning

Lunch

Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Re: Afternoon

Evening

OOC

Re: OOC

Re: OOC

Re: OOC