Whispers in the Stacks -- Rachelle-Marie

[d'artagnan remy laurent]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
it's my life, it's now or never
I AIN'T GONNA LIVE FOREVER
i just want to live while i'm alive
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

While his craft was his highest ambition, D'artagnan had two other ambitious qualities...and those were women and cards. It wasn't often you would find him without the presence of a woman on his arm, unless he was with his buddies of course. Even more intriguing was the deck of cards he kept tucked away in his back pocket for when the days grew boring. He tried desperately to pay attention in his classes, but unless he was drawing on a pad of paper, he could not be bothered to learn the ups and downs of the world of illustration. Who needed to know the in depth view of the craft? To him, it was a passion, it was in your soul, and if you weren't fortunate enough to engage in such equitable extravagances, woe to the poor soul.

Today, he had found himself following a particularly cute brunette into the confines of the library. Sadly, he hadn't realized where he was headed until it was too late. Th book stacked building almost felt like a suffocating prison to a free spirit such as himself, but even D'artagnan had to admit...a lot of women did seem to hang out in the place. With a smile, he adjusted his simple black t-shirt and strategically ripped jeans before he pushed further on into the surprisingly brightened area. He'd been in the library scarcely once or twice before, if only to get a bearing for the place before sprinting to freedom. Today, he was on the prowl for something completely different.

Reaching a particularly thick stack of books, D'artagnan ducked in, peering out at the girls from between the shelves. It was quite relative to a lion hunting its prey. Which of these delectable beauties would fall victim to his princely charm. At a young age, D'artagnan had discovered his skill of smooth talking. It was quite the charming technique whenever he got into trouble. Even today, he could make most of his female teachers swoon with his smooth talking and recitation of poetry and Shakespeare. For many years he had used this skill to his advantage, and in return he had been given quite a nice reputation. He was a charmer, a romancer, a man who had a need and went after what he had to fill it.

When a giggling red head caught the corner of his eye across the way, D'artagnan grinned. She was pretty, yes, but not the girl he was looking for. The name rolled through his head as quickly as a glance on a good hand of cards. The bookworm she was, he'd most certainly see her here. Walking further into the realm of books and study, he took the deck of cards and began to play with them, shuffling them back and forth without really paying attention. D'artagnan was on a mission. At least that's what he told himself.