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[color=6E8E67]Location:[/color] Outside of Ambrose and Sons: Books and Basics[/center][hr][hr]

She stood before the bookstore, hardly aware of the uproar she had caused in her companions.  Her mind - her entire being - was focused on the enticing and terrifying psychic scent which had drawn her here.  She clasped her hands together at her stomach and stared at the faded letters upon the dirty window.  An all too familiar scene somehow made spectacular by all of the things she was feeling.  Her breath came in quick, short bursts as she just stood completely engulfed in this odd web.

If she had to describe it, this scent that had a complete hold upon the young Grey Queen, it would be like candy.  Sweet and bitter.  Caramel dipped in salted dark chocolate.  Followed by a shot of rum.  Intoxicating.  Heady.  Exhilarating.  Jumping off a cliff into deep, warm water and letting it cover her in complete darkness.  Warm.  Velvety.  It was consuming.

[i][color=20B2AA]"Cousin."[/color][/i]

The word broke her from her trance.  With a start she turned to Jandar and her eyes then traveled to Dareen.  She saw more than she heard the words that come from the warrior woman's mouth.  Fatima had to consider her actions a moment.  What would a Queen do?  One who lived beneath Dorothea's thumb?  Well, she wouldn't have followed this disgusting slum path.  She wouldn't be standing outside of a decrepit book store.  She wouldn't be about to enter.  But... Jandar could feel it too... So could Dareen...  With a sly smile, partially hidden by the lace veil, she said, [color=6E8E67]"I want a book."[/color]  She realized she was putting everyone in danger by doing this.  There was selfishness in this action.  She could not deny that.  However, it felt so completely right.  As if she were falling into her warm, downy bed after a long day.

Before she could be stopped she hobbled to the door, opened it, and stepped inside.

Fatima's first impression was of how age showed in all corners of the establishment.  Dust, decay, and the sweet scent of old paper.  She breathed deeply, enjoying the way it washed over her in conjunction with the power of the enticing jewel.  She stood a moment at the entrance, the last sounds of the jingling bell dying amongst the dust particles.  The books and the thing that drew her battled for her attention.  So many fine, delicate novels.  She was perusing a shelf before she knew it, her eyes scouring the shelves for anything of interest while her subconscious drew her closer to the thing which called to her.