The Dice of Zeus {Open}

I WONDER WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE

With a deep sigh, Flint set his book down on the low table in front of him, leant back and rubbed his eyes. He'd been reading for a good 3 hours already, and was more than feeling the strain. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have been a problem – reading was without a doubt how he spent the majority of his leisure time, and as such he was more than accustomed to focusing on pages for hours upon endless hours. Today however, he was reading a very old translation of Sophocles' Ajax, and it's print was cripplingly small, the margins on the aged book full of notes. It was not one of the libraries texts – rather, Flint had bought it from a lecturer at a university in Scotland, who had filled with observations from both himself, his colleagues, his students, and members of the university's History department. It was fascinating beyond all reason, but it was not light work. This was the third such break Flint had forced himself to take today.

Looking down at the book, he realised he had no wish to continue currently. It was already past a reasonable hour for dinner, and from the window of the small reading room he sat in, he could see the sun beginning to dip. The reading room was otherwise unoccupied, as it normally was – Flint had long considered it 'his'. It was not unknown to other students that it was where he chose to come and study, and most either disliked him or feared his white-hot temper enough to leave him to it. As a result, he had taken a few liberties with the layout of the room, pushing the larger tables up to one wall and laying it out more like a sitting room. 2 armchairs and a 2 seater couch surrounded a small coffee table, and the one Flint sat in face away from the door, towards the rooms one floor-to-ceiling window. The room itself was no more than 20 square feet, far from the largest study room in the library, but that was how Flint liked it. Cosy, quiet, and largely left alone.

He stood, and walked over to the window, looking out over the grounds of the academy. Not much was going on – a few people walked idly by, couples holding hands, friends jostling with each other. Flint did not feel envious – He rather enjoyed his time alone. Although, looking at them, he did long a little for a conversation. Not a dull, passing the day sort, he hated those. The kind of talk that stimulates each part of your brain, a talk that reveals a lot about yourself, the other person, the subject matter. Sadly, conversations that truly satisfied Flint were few and far between. Idly, he wondered if he was too pretentious for his own good, before promptly deciding that even if he was, he was all the happier for it.

Sighing again, he opened the window a crack, and continued to stare out it, his mind wandering back to Ajax. Thinking about the play, the story, and the notes he had read, his mind was so absorbed that soon the world ceased to exist, and all that remained was Flint, his room, and his thoughts...

WORDCOUNT 457 TAGS @flint MUSIC none at the moment NOTES hope you don't mind that i am jumping in here! OUTFIT click here!

Like many of the other long time students at Ashford Academy, Kaelyn knew very well that the room at the end of the hall basically belonged to one of the other seniors. Of course, she had never had to pleasure of meeting the man, but she was certain he was not someone most people wanted to mess with. She had heard rumors of his almost unmanageable temper, especially when it concerned that particular study room. But in Kaelyn's experience, the room was conveniently vacated most of the times she had hunkered down on the love seat to read in it, and she didn't see why she had any reason to fear this mysterious ghost of Study Room F. Tonight was no different, at least in Kaelyn's mind. She hustled up the stairs and started down the hallway towards the tiny room, her high heels clicking professionally against the marble floors. She pushed a stray clump of hair behind her right ear and smiled down at the little brown book she had wrapped in her arms. A Jane Austen novel well known for it's portrayal in the Keira Knightly movie. Pride a Prejudice was so much more to Kaelyn. It was a story of independence and courage, two things she couldn't show to her family. The main character, Elizabeth Bennett, didn't care that she didn't really fit in to society's expectations of what a proper lady should be, be was proud of herself and of her accomplishments and wasn't afraid to make sure everyone knew about it. It was everything Kaelyn aspired to be. Finally, she was standing outside of Study Room F. Above the door, in gilded letters, the words PRIVATE STUDY ROOM were gleaming and barely tarnished. The little room at teh end of teh hall had become affectionately known as Study Room F among the students, although Kaelyn couldn't quite pin point the reasoning behind the catchy name. In the wood framing of the door, in ragged, scratchy writing, the nick named was carved indicating the ownership of the mysterious, angry student who generally resided in the room. Without even skipping a beat, Kaelyn pushing the door open and entered, surprised to find the room occupied for the first time since she had started coming to the library. Her blue eyes were wide for a moment before she regained herself and dipped her head slightly, acknowledging the other person's presence. She pushed the stray clump of hair from her face again and ran her palm across her skirt to smooth it out, wanting to look her best for this complete stranger, "Oh, I am so sorry. I did not mean to interrupt." Kaelyn bowed her head again, this time in apology to the man standing at the window.

I WONDER WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE

'Of course Ajax deserved a proper funeral', Flint mused. 'He was driven to suicide because of the mockery of his opponents, and even some of his friends. The very idea that he should be left to rot is both barbaric and moronic. Why, if it were all so easy, none would suffer in this world...'

His train of thought was derailed swiftly and suddenly at the sound of the door. At first, Flint didn't even turn around. It happened, every so often that someone would wander in and disturb him accidentally, but the disturbance rarely lasted more than a brief flutter of a second. Even the few students who didn't know that this was (for all intents and purposes) Flint's room, were quick to sense the tone of their interruption and leave. Certainly, none of them would be so brazen, so ridiculous, as to try and talk about their transgression...

'Oh, I am so sorry. I did not mean to interrupt.'

Flint couldn't help it – his eyebrows raised, surprised, as he turned to face the female voice he had just heard. He stood for a long second, considering the girl there. He recognised her, even if only vaguely. She was in his own year, he knew,and he was certain they were in the same Halls as well. Her name, however, evaded him. It was irritating, most certainly, as there were few things that annoyed Flint more than ignorance. It would be the height of bad manners to tell the dear girl to leave without even be able to call her by her name while he did it.

That being said, as Flint looked at her for another thunderously quiet second, it struck him that he had been rather looking for a conversation just seconds ago. Transgressor's fate, perhaps, that she had picked this very evening to wander into his reading room. It wouldn't hurt, Flint theorised, to at least be civil. If she turned out to be a total buffoon, he could always scare her off rather swiftly afterwards. He turned his whole body to face her, and his face changed from surprised, to what he hoped was a warm smile.

“No, please don't apologise”, he said, his English accent not having faded despite his last 4 years in Wyoming. “I wasn't doing anything important, just...”. He trailed off as he realised all he had been doing was looking out of a window, thinking far too much about a Sophocles play. It seemed rather silly now, in hindsight. Very small, unimportant.

Ridiculous, even.

Flint shook himself, and smiled again. “Just nothing at all, really. Thinking back on something I'd read.”. Locking eyes with the girl, he decided it would be best to guess. “So, can I help you at all, Miss... Um, Park?”. He winced internally as soon as he said it. Definitely wrong. Oh well, too late now...

It didn't take long for Kaelyn to feel unwelcome in the room. The man, whoever he was, obviously hadn't intended to be interrupted. A quick glance around the room told her that he had been reading Ajax. Kaelyn remembered properly, it was a Greek tragedy based on a warrior who had been enraged by the glorification of Achilles after the Trojan War. The warrior, for whom the story was titled, spun into a web of dark and intricate spirals that would eventually lead to his death.

Frowning slightly at the book, Kaelyn almost missed the man speaking to her. She gave him a sweet smile and nodded slowly at him as he told her not to apologize. He was polite and obviously had manners, which immediately made him less daunting than all the rumors of the temperamental poltergeist she had been expecting.

He seemed, for a moment, to struggle coming up with an explanation for what he had been doing. She was sure it was not because he didn't know, but more because he didn't want to share. That was not a new phenomenon to Kaelyn, as her entire family was stoic and self important that way, "Page." She corrected politely, "Kaelyn Page." The dark haired girl stepped further into the room, taking his question as an invitation to join him, although something told her that hadn't been his intention, "And, thank you for the offer, but I didn't come here seeking help with anything." She sat in one of the arm chairs and sat up very tall, like she was posing for one of those old fashioned portraits.

The book he had been reading caught her eye again and she could help but smile as she said, "I always preferred Homer, myself." She motioned to the book to indicated what it was she was talking about, "Though there is something to be said about the Sophoclean tragedies." Kaelyn placed her first edition Jane Austen on the table next to her and held her hand out before asking, "May I?" Hoping he wouldn't mind her flipping through his copy of Ajax.

@kaelyn very sorry it took so long!

I WONDER WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE

'She's certainly a confident sort', Flint mused, as Kaelyn came and sat down in his reading room. Not many people had the gumption to do that – Flint was very proud, in fact, of the air of control he tended to exhibit in the small room. Normally, he would be offended by such a brazen move, but today his anger did not waken with the fire it usually did. Rather, he was curious. There weren't many who would be happy to walk into his company in the manner this girl had, and that in itself was more than a little intriguing. More than that, however, she had come into his room without wanting anything of him. Flint had been sure that she had made the folly so many others had made in the past, of thinking that he was in the business of exchanging favours, or lending money. He had been asked more times than he cared to remember. Nobody had ever asked twice.

He opened his mouth to speak, to begin the process of driving this curious interloper from his reading room, but before he could Kaelyn began to speak about Greek literature. Two short, simple sentences, and yet it drove everything else from Flint's mind, his mouth promptly shutting. Exactly what he had been thinking of – someone to actually talk to. His intent to rid himself of her faded. This was a conversation, one with merit. It seemed this girl was far more than ballsy and ignorant, as he had thought. If she had a brain, she was more than welcome to sit a while.

“You may, by all means, but be delicate.”, he replied, gesturing to his book. “It's a very old copy, and strictly speaking it isn't mine”. His slightly bemused smile turned into a grin. “Although I feel you may struggle to read as I begin to tell you all the numerous reasons Sophocles trumps Homer. A poet over a playwright? Madness!”. He sat on the couch opposite her, eyeing her copy of Pride and Prejudice with a sideways glance.

“You'll forgive me, Miss Pa- Is Kaelyn okay?” His eyes flickered briefly over to her, hiding how surprised he was with himself. Definitely improper, but Flint was rather beside himself at the poise of a good discussion. Propriety could wait it's bloody turn. “You'll forgive me if I don't return the favour? As beautiful as your copy is, Me and Austen have never really gotten on.”. He struggled for words briefly, before smiling again. “To be fair, I hardly think I was her target market.”

Kaelyn smiled a respectful smile at her reading room companion and reached carefully across to the table and picked up the book gingerly. The text and was small and she didn't need the man to tell her the book was old, because it was obvious from the worn binding and the notes written meticulously into the margins, "Fascinating." She said, unable to keep the genuinely interested grin off of her face.

Kaelyn's green-blue eyes skimmed the pages excited as she turned each sheet slowly. The only thing that could distract Kaelyn from her thoughts on the crumpled copy of Ajax was the voice of the other senior in the study room. She looked up and smiled sweetly, picking up the book that she had forgotten she brought with her, "Oh, Austen is for everyone." She said matter-of-factly, "It's not about the tumultuous romance in the novels, although that is definitely a selling point." She bit her lip as she thought carefully about her next words, "The value of Jane Austen is in the information we learn about the social structure of the time period." She leaned forward and pushed a clump of her dark hair behind one ear, "Most of what we know about life in the 1800s, not the 'big picture' kind of life, but the little things about life, like how people get along with their family and their neighbors, can be learned from Jane Austen." She held the book out to him so he could look at it, "Take Elizabeth Bennett for instance. She had four sisters and her mother's main concern is finding them husbands. Now, this does provide a foundation for a romantic story-line, but it also illustrates the importance of well-planned family ties during this time period."

Finishing her spiel on Jane Austen, Kaelyn sighed and smiled, lightly embarrassed, "I'm sure you didn't need all that excess information." She looked down at Ajax again and shook her head, smiling to herself.

I WONDER WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE

Flint could not help but smile as Kaelyn talked about Jane Austen. It was a rare thing, to find someone who had such a passion for literature, in a way that wasn't flimsy or shakeable. Oh many enjoyed it, in the way one might enjoy a walk in the park, or a glass of wine with dinner. But what she displayed was a passion – the ability to properly annunciate love that went deeper than a text. Flint admired that, he was realising, and perhaps felt a little ashamed that he so often let other things get in the way of his own passion of reading. He briefly had a notion of promising to abstain from the things that kept him from it, such as whiskey, golf and the ever-looming, seething fury in his secret heart, but he abandoned the thought before it could fully form. It would be a vow he would break. It was futile to delude himself, even momentarily.

“Oh it's not the importance of what she writes that I'm not convinced by”, he said, stepping around the couch and sitting down, directly opposite Kaelyn. “It's more the way she does it. For all her social commentary, the stories that tell them are... well, bland, and her prose is lacking at best. It's a problem I have with a lot of authors of the era though – uniquely preference. I seem to be in the minority, and 'Where an opinion is general, it is usually correct'”. He grinned widely again, relaxing back in his chair. “Plus it's all too safe. The biggest problem they seem to have in Pride and Prejudice is who to fall in love with. The biggest problem in Emma is that none of them realise what detestable berks they all are”. Even he wasn't sure how firm he held that belief, but he knew he did not enjoy her work. At the very least, he hoped for his beliefs to be shook. At worst, he could deal with an angry rebuttal and a slap.

His smile faltering somewhat, Flint sat forward again. “Excess information is perfectly fine, but I realise I've not even given you the basics.”. He extended a hand, and even though the movement was friendly, it was held with the confidence and complete self-comfort of a man who had gone through such motions a million times before. “Kaelyn Page, my name is Flint Cotnoir. It's very nice to meet you, and to have your company in my reading room”.

She smiled brightly. Something about having a true and real discussion about literature made her happy. Not many people, including the teachers at the Academy, were capable of such thing, "I suppose you are not completely wrong. Her writing is lacking a certain finesse that you would like, especially if the reader is accustomed to the more ancient works of Greece and Rome." She motioned the book he had been reading carefully and sighed, "And if I am being completely honestly, there is a small part of me that does enjoy the simple dramatics of a good Austen novel." She sighed, shaking her head like she was slightly disappointed in herself, which she sort of was. But none of that really mattered.

When he introduced himself, she nodded and smiled politely, "I am more than happy that you invited me in." She said formally, "There are many rather nasty rumors about the usual occupant of this room. I am pleased to see that they all fall completely flat."