Owner	Pose
Lucy Blaze	Regardless of what people say, angels read. High Kherubim do, anyway. They may have been born several magnitudes of yesterday ago. She is not one to turn her nose up to a ladies' night when a bookstore offers a nacho bar, a selection of drinks, and their favourite Latino Gothic authors on tap. Especially ones that speak so succinctly in glossy Spanish or Portuguese stanzas to the revolutions they waged against their husbands, corrupt societies, colonists or dust-bunnies. Even dust-bunnies have their place. For the less violently inclined some beautiful poetry and much nicer novels written by local Black writers take advantage of the month celebrating their communities. As is the truth in most of central and southern America, Latin and Black backgrounds mix plentifully. Thus being the white-haired woman standing over six feet tall really kind of makes Lucy stand out. She stands too, no help there, thumbing through a novella out of the 19th-century by imagination. A plate of cheese smothered corn chips waits for her to descend in wrath. Well. Not really. The infernal wrath is still to come.
Betsy Braddock	Though more of a social butterfly than a bookreading one, Elizabeth Braddock was more than happy to attend the ladies' night at the bookstore. Particularly with the selection of drinks and Latino Gothic authors both on tap. She enjoyed listening to them, agreeing them completely about the colonists, even if her country was responsible for way too much of it. Truth be told, she liked hearing about these things so she could work on making it better. Being not quite six feet tall, she doesn't stand out as much as Lucy, though the purple hair is a bit hard to miss. She currently has no designs on the nacho plate /yet/, but she did retrieve a margarita in a mason jar from the drinks table. Her eyes keep wandering about though, as if she's expecting some sort of trouble to show up... because, well, it IS New York.
Jemma Simmons	Get out of the lab, they said. It will do you good, they said. Stop working for once. Well...Jemma took their advice. Really, it was so she didn't have to listen to everyone continually pester her while she was in her lab. Of course, what Jemma decided to do she did alone, on her own free will. The ladies' night wasn't even a factor in her decision, though honestly, it certainly didn't hurt at all. A bookstore would be right up her alley anyways. And it doesn't hurt that there is wifi, for a certain tablet riding in the certainly shorter individual's bag. All 5 foot 4 inches of her. Yes, she said she would get out of the lab. Jemma never promised to stop working. The perfectly nondescript brunette browses the stacks of books. Jemma managed to find the corner of science fiction/fantasy that resides in the bookstore, with her eyes on the latest offering of a dead author's writings compiled by a fortunately still living editor. The cover looks ominous enough, with a giant tidal wave threatening to wipe out some ancient city.
Lucy Blaze	Drinks and books pair nicely. They go better without more than a basic cover charge of buying a book, not necessarily one on display. Small printed squares invite opinions from other readers and bookstore staff, giving impressions of all sorts. Lucy pointedly has her back turned to the date with a book section, which has different paperbacks wrapped up in colourful paper. A handwritten tag indicates the flavour for each book, for the romantic soul; the lady who likes crime and tea; the space-age showstopper with gritty family politics. Sadly none include 'for the unfunny lady who wants to stab everything.' Well, one day. Lucy keeps on another two pages before setting down her choice. It goes on a chair that she claims for herself. Her red battered rucksack sits on the seat too, jostling for attention. "Hmm. Allende is worth something." The proclamation comes a bit bluntly. Her eyes narrow, scanning the immediate table in case it has more appropriately dramatic depictions of Ladies Who Do Things. Cover art is a terrible judge, but it beats scrolls! "You," she looks at Betsy, because purple hair. Incidentally Allende's cover has purple ... uh, lips? And orchids, orchids everywhere. "Match this book." Egads!
Betsy Braddock	Betsy did notice Jemma, of course, because perfectly nondescript can be, in the right circles, rather attention-getting by itself. And she noticed the cover of the book she had acquired. So she moved in that direction, saying quietly, "An honest hand and a true heart may hew amiss; and the harm may be harder to bear than the work of a foe." She smiles, about to say something else... And that's when Lucy makes the comment about her purple hair matching the book. Smiling, she turns to look at Lucy, and seems a bit surprised to note that Lucy is one of the few that she looks up at. "Indeed it is, and I applaud you on your selection. A very fine choice, and I'm not just saying that because of the color." She sips her drink, "Do you read much Allende?" Her violet eyes definitely reflect a passing interest in the answer.
Jemma Simmons	A blink, then Jemma turns to regard upwards. For yes, indeed upwards with brown eyes catching sight of lavender locks of hair. A light smile crosses over her features, as she certainly recognizes the origins of the quote given. As if to confirm, those eyes shift down towards the book in her hand, as the smile widens. Oh yes, Jemma recognizes Tolkien when it is spoken to her. And her reply is brief, but no less fitting. "Not all who wander are lost..." A reply that falls to silence as the even taller white-haired individual intercepts the lilac-hued speaker of Tolkien. And there just might be a ghost of a chuckle escaping Jemma's throat. It isn't often that one matches books to individuals by the color of their respective covers. Still, Tolkien-esque fantasy is tucked under an arm for future purchase while the eyes search for more.
Lucy Blaze	"I do not know." That's probably the most freshman answer ever spat out by an attendee of a bookstore event, and without the excuse of red solo cups aplenty to levy the damnation of admitting it around other bibliophiles with every reason to throw shade in her direction. Lucy doesn't seem the least bit put out by the fact, shoulders back and high. "So many books. Your choice in colour is a choice. An interesting one." This woman truly is another level of weird. She picks up her plate of nachos and chooses a less cheese-doused triangle, bringing it to her lips with a nibbled crunch. Those clear, wide eyes move unblinking to Jemma, reading posture and book and all else in between. She bides her time for a moment. Two.
Jemma Simmons	Oh...those wide eyes. Jemms certainly feels those eyes as they scan her...and her book choice...and everything else. Why does that give a sense of slight unease to her? It is enough for Jemma to look at her own book selection, with the greys and blacks with the angry splash of red in the lower right corner. And the look up towards Lucy. 'Up' being the operative word. It is enough that Jemma subconsciously straightens her stance, trying to eek out every bit of that 5 foot 4 inch frame of hers. Is it working? Probably not.
Betsy Braddock	Betsy smiles, looking rather unfazed by Lucy's height or her demeanor, "Well, it's a bit of a natural for me, honestly. Which is odd enough, I suppose, but I like it." She nods towards Lucy, and adds, "I do like to be a bit well-read, and yes, I enjoy Tolkien quite a bit." With that, she glances over towards Jemma, and doesn't comment on the height difference at all, charitably enough, and gives her a warm expression, "Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars." Though she doesn't look to distract her too much from the book shopping, as that's something to be respected of course.
Lucy Blaze	Lucy continues to deliver that stare, absent an actual chip at least. She doesn't chomp and glare or anything nonsensical of that nature. "He most certainly was after storming out of the Eagle and Child. He went all round looking for a way back to Magdalen." Her thumb rises to flick over her smooth ivory brow, straightening a hair perceptibly out of line. Nothing amiss, though corrected all the same. "The enduring popularity isn't overly surprising, is it?" If she expects to cow Jemma or be cowed by the woman straightening, it doesn't dawn on her. Why, that cover is more fascinating. "How much more could he possibly write? Is he not--? Moved on?"
Jemma Simmons	Oh, intimidation was clearly not a factor that Jemma was considering. More timid than intimidating, that one. Still, the tall woman is addressing Jemma and asking a question. It is in her very fiber to provide an answer. And answer she does, with that Received Pronunciation accent of Jemma's that betrays one of higher education. "Tolkien has most assuredly moved on. However, due greatly by his love of language, he wrote at great length, with essays of various lengths, about all manner of his fantasy creation. This is merely a collection of his writings, initially groomed by his son, and then further by his estate." Oh, leave it to Jemma to give the most clinical explanation possible. "Unlike some fantasy series that resort to other authors to further develop stories, this is still very much Tolkien. Though editing has been performed to at least present it in a legible, cohesive format." Wow. Jemma is hardly exciting at all. Perhaps that is why she has what is essentially a book of essays about a fictional land. It probably reads similar to her own scientific journals
Betsy Braddock	Betsy nods in agreement with Jemma, "Indeed. It's a testament to the world that he created that people are still finding things new about it, even after 50 years since he passed on." She gives Jemma and Lucy both a smile, "Sorry, I should introduce myself, I'm Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Betsy." Her own accent is subdued, but recognizable as quite Properly British, even as she sips on the margarita within the mason jar as if it were just afternoon tea.