Safi is curled up on her side, bare-legged near the foot of the chair, the Joseph Campbell book open in front of her. Her hair comes down like a curtain to one side, half-hiding her face.

"...and the happy times are comin' to stay! I gotta sing and a-dance when I glance in my-" The door opens, and the warm baritone voice breaks off as Serendipity glances inside, following the glance a moment after. "Heya, beautiful. Good book?"

Safi's brow furrows, and she looks up with a slight frown. "It is hard. But good, yes."

"Cool, cool," Ren replies, with a little nod. "Not lookin' so happy. Just the book?" he inquires, approaching, with a definite glance toward the librarian's desk, and another checking the rest of the library surroundings.

Safi props herself up on one arm, watching him. "Higami has no feelings," she says, quietly. "It is, may-be, somesing for you to know."

Serendipity tilts his head, dropping down into the chair nearest Safi, having already given up the scan, and arching a brow slightly. "He what, now? How can he not, he's alive, isn't he?"

Safi twists to look up at him, looking soberly up at him. "He is alive. But he has no feeling."

Serendipity twists a little, getting comfy in the chair closer to Safi, chin on a palm. "Even undead guys got feelings. Cats. Birds. So... little more info, here?" he inquires, not =quite= disbelieving, but bemused and intrigued.

Safi's brow furrows, and she frowns slightly in thought. "I do not know why," she murmurs, lowering her eyes. Her bowed head is not far from his knees. "It is strange. But I see ... inside, how you feel, almost always. Him... zere is nossing."

Serendipity arches that brow again. "....=huh=," he replies thoughtfully. There are several seconds while his mind is obviously contemplating this deeply. What, exactly, he's thinking about it is harder to determine. He leans over further, and grins at Safi. "So, how do I feel inside, almost always?" And he almost manages to keep it from sounding like there's any possible double entendre, which is probably as close as he can get.

Safi bites her lower lip, thinking. She touches a hand to his knee. "Different, different times. You were sad, before... lonely. I do not want for my friend to be unhappy." Looking up, she searches his face, his eyes. "Now you arre... nice. Friendly. Wanting... almost always, you want. You arre... confuse, about Higami, maybe? You arre think of something else."

Serendipity hehs, cheeks tinting just the tiniest bit, for just the briefest of moments -- but it's definitely there. "Not bad. Yeah, that among other things. ...and thanks. 's nice t' know you care, y'know?"

A smile dawns, slow and miraculous. "I like you," she says simply. "You are... you make joy. You understand... it is im-por-tant, to live, to be alive."

Serendipity smiles back, slow and broad. "I make joy? That's onea the nicest things anyone ever said t' me. Thank you, beautiful." He slips out of the chair, to slip over and wrap his arms around her in a quick, impulsive hug.

Safi rises on her knees, to answer it in kind. She kisses his cheek, as they draw apart, and then looks up at him. "Maybe we can read again some, like before?"

Serendipity kisses Safi gently on the forehead, and nods. "Sure. You gonna read me that Joseph Campbell book? Or something else?" He curls into his chair again, in preparation for listening. "...Wouldn't mind hearing some of those myths. If you find any 'bout Coyote I can tell you which bits're true and which're lies 'n' propaganda." He winks at her lightly, and pats the edge of his cushion.

Safi grins at him. "Okay. I find..." She drops down to sit on the floor again, and scoots closer, to lean against his knees. After some animated flipping through the thick book, she finds something on animism and the trickster figure, and begins reading in her accented voice.

Serendipity gets comfy, leaning in a little and draping his arms loosely about Safi's shoulders and peering over her head, chin lightly nestled in her hair, so he can see any diagrams or illustrations.

Safi reads a recounting of an archetypal story, where Coyote (or sometimes Raven) steals the sun or moon. "What is arch-- ar-che-- zis word?" She points to it, in the paragraphs following the story--Campbell's commentary. "He use before, but I was too lazy to get up and look."

Serendipity looks at the word in question for a second. "...Arch-e-typ-al," he says slowly, making the sounds clear. "It means, like... hm. It's kinda, it means it's an archetype, which is, like... the model of something, the idea of it. Sorta... something that embodies the essence of something."

Safi straightens slightly, craning her neck and twisting to look at him. "Like in Plato, wis' ze table? Ideal?"

Serendipity tilts his head a little, brow furrowing a bit. "Uh... possibly. Tell me 'bout Plato's table, and I'll see."

Safi chews on her lower lip. "It is... like for everysing, is an ideal. Zere is table over zere, and zere is... /idea/ of a table, a flat surface wis'legs, wis' certain purpose. Many kinds of table, but all are table."

"Huh." Ren mulls it over a moment, then nods. "Yeah, it's like that, kinda. But not exactly. Like... there's a lot of trickster gods in myths, but they're all the same archetype. And they're all Coyote, not that you're gonna find =that= out many places. Except Raven, but Raven's... a buddy. He's not quite th' same archetype anyway."

"I like ze animal stories," she says quietly. "Reminds me of spirits."

"Should," Serendipity replies, "...they're the true ones. The spirits, they're, like. Avatars."

Safi nods, lowering her eyes to the book again. "I think may-be Blake see zem," she says quietly.

This takes a moment to work out. "...Blake... the author guy?" Ren asks, after a moment.

Safi nods.

"Poet," she says quietly. "Ze one who write about Gaia."

"Huh. Never read 'im," Serendipity admits. "Hard t' find books, most places, you know."

Safi wrinkles her nose. "Ze one I read to you before!" She pokes his knee. "O Rose, thou art sick, the invisible worm..."

Serendipity blinks. "OH! Yeah, okay, I remember. I forgot that was him." He sounds a little sheepish about it. "...yeah, maybe he did know a thing or two. You think maybe he was more'n vanilla human?"

Safi frowns, her brow furrowing. "Maybe. Maybe he was human, who feel ze nature of things. Her ze song."

Serendipity nods. "Could be. Prolly never know, I guess." He stretches a little, and settles in again.

Safi sits curled up at Serendipity's knees, the latter ensconced in a big armchair. There is a book open on her knees, but she is twisted around to talk to Ren.

Resting her chin on Ren's knee, Safi looks up at him. "What about you?" she asks, seriously.

Serendipity's bent down a bit in his seat; his arms are loosely draped around Safi's shoulders, and he's peering at the book over her shoulder. "...what 'bout me what?" he asks, a little surprised.

Tristan skitters in, banging the door open, and shakes himself free of his light coating of snow like a dog. A miniature blizzard occurs. "Gnar!" he announces.

Safi gives a start, twisting to look at the door. A smile comes, then, and she calls out, "Tristan! You are not freeze-ed again?"

Serendipity tenses at the sound of the door, looking over immediately, and relaxes, breaking into a broad grin once he sees who it is. "Gnar!" he replies happily, "How's it goin', Tristalicious?"

Tristan snickers. "Tristalicious. Ain't that cute. Nah, not a leechsicle, all good." He holds out his long bony hands to demonstrate his goodness. "Sup?"

"Reading Joseph Camp-bell," Safi says cheerily. She closes up the book, though. "I think we are done."

Serendipity smirks. "Hey, cute's my middle name," he retorts, sitting back up properly. "Also, hot, sexy, creativity, and Francis." He pauses. "Don't ever use that one."

Tristan eyes the book dubiously. "Isn't he the guy who thought that everything was penises?" He laughs at Ren. "Aww, c'n I call ya Frank?"

Safi frowns slightly. "What is 'gnar'?"

Serendipity toys with a few strands of Safi's hair, and makes a face at Tristan... then grins evilly, arching a brow. "Tell ya what -- I'll be Frank with you when you have a Trist with me," he offers.

Safi giggles delightedly, lowering her eyes.

Tristan collapses so swiftly that it's as if his spine lost all cohesiveness, flumping straight down onto the library carpet, where he cackles gleefully for several minutes.

Serendipity grins even broader at the reactions, and settles back into the chair a little, shoulders back. Aw yeah, he's the man.

Safi slides her book under the chair, and rolls easily to her feet. "I am going," she says. "So you can have your trist, hm?" She leans over and gives Ren a kiss on the cheek. "I see you, later, Ren." Then she goes to the door, where a pile of furs turns out to be her discarded boots and leggings.

Tristan waggles his fingers in farewell at Safi, still laying spreadeagle on the floor. "Y'oughta be registered as a deadly weapon," he remarks, although whether to Ren or Safi is a mystery.

Serendipity snirks, and catches Safi to return her kiss -- nice and chaste, on the forehead, one might note -- before letting her go so that she can, well, go, since she seems bound for other parts. "Aw, didn't mean t' chase you out, lovely. Thanks for the story..." He trails off, watching her put on the warm leg-coverings a moment.

Safi grins to Tristan. "I see you later, too," she says softly, and then bends her head to finish lacing all the wrappings into place. When that is done, she goes out into the snow.

Tristan raises his eyebrows at Ren, cocking his head back to see the Kin upside-down. "Workin on her, eh?" he asks, without accusation, just curious.

Serendipity studies the door through which the girl left. "...Nah," he decides, after a moment or three, "not really. She's my friend, y'know? Which isn't t'say I don't wanna fuck her six ways from Sunday, but it'd only make her unhappy." He adds, after a second, "...afterward. When she had to either upset Jack or hide it from him, which'd make her mis'rable either way. I don't get why she lets him fence her in like that, but... her choice." He shrugs slightly, and relaxes back into his chair, a relaxed sprawl in it, gaze firmly back on the vampire. "Way things're goin'... 's almost like havin' a kid sister." He pauses. "Well. Actually more like a buddy's daughter who calls you her uncle, I guess. 'cause otherwise sex'd be creepy." See? He =does= have some rules. He grins again suddenly, a pure, sunny grin, and leans forward a bit. "She says I make joy. How sweet is that?"

"Awww. Hey, that IS sweet." Tristan flashes an upside-down grin at Ren, then lifts and curls his body into a backwards somersault, rolling over his shoulder and landing on the balls of his feet. He flumps into a nearby beanbag. "Yeah, she's -totally- into Jack. And this other guy, some dude named Justin. Never met him, but she was all torn up over wantin' em both and Jack being a dickhead about it. Not that he don't got the right to keep his woman and all, but she was just bawlin' her eyes out. Never met Jack either, now that you mention it--" who mentioned it? "--but I kinda feel like I know him, from all she told me about him."

Serendipity watches the move, and shakes his head slightly. "You're so damn acrobatic," he remarks admiringly. "...and yeah. Heh, she talked t'me 'bout it all, too. Though, 'right t' keep his woman,' what kinda crap is that? She's her own woman. He gets any parta her, he oughta count himself damn lucky, not get all bent outta shape about not gettin' her all. She's a chick, not a sandwich." He rolls his eyes. "Far's =I'm= concerned, he's outta line tryin' to tell her she can't love anyone but him. If he loves her, he oughta love who she is, not who he wants her t' be. She won't hurt him by doin' what she wants, but he's fine with hurtin' her to have it his way." A shrug, and another shake of the head. "...he's a'ight, though. Aside from the possessive jealous thing. Justin's a'ight, too... they both could use the sticks up their asses wriggled 'round every so often."

"And I just bet you'd wanna be the one doing the wrigglin," Tristan grins. He tucks his hands behind his head, gazing at the gently translucent ceiling. "Mebbe I shoulda said, he got the right to what makes him happy, too. Kinda unfortunate that what makes him happy makes Safi unhappy, but that's the way of this wicked old world a ours. Anyway, he supposedly makes her happy. Yannow, when he's not busy forbidding her to love anybody else. Sometimes, though, y' can't do anything, people gotta do what they do."

Serendipity shrugs again, inclining his head in a nod of acknowledgement. "Yeah," he agrees, "like I said -- her choice. Just think it's a shame. Don't believe in cages." He watches Tristan watching the ceiling, and pushes up out of the chair, relatively graceful. "...check this out." He turns something at the librarian's desk, and a gentle light filters through the ceiling -- crimson, bathing the room in its tint. That done, he nudges a beanbag a few inches with his toe, so it presses right up against Tristan's, and drops onto it, lying propped on his elbow quite close to the vampire, and grinning. "...and 'course I wanna be the one t' do it. 's my raisin day etray. Already worked on Justin some."

Tristan ooooohs at the crimson glow. "Keen!" He glances at Ren and snickers. "Raisin day etray. Worked on Justin, huh, is he a possessive jealous type too? Can just imagine two a them types fightin over Safi, but she didn't talk much about him. An' for the record, I ain't so hip with cages, myself. Accourse, like I told you before, never had someone to cage."

"Nah, he's not so possessive," Ren replies, grinning, "...actually, he's datin' Miki, and he doesn't seem t' mind sharing =him=. He's just..." The kin considers, choosing his word carefully, "...stuffy. Takes himself too serious. Gets pouty-mopey when he's got a life some guys'd kill for. You know." He seems convinced that Tristan will, in fact, know. The glow shifts gradually from crimson through orange, on toward golden yellow. Serendipity shifts as well, rolling onto his stomach and crossing his arms on the beanbag, resting his chin on the overlap of his wrists. "I had a few people try'n cage =me=, but I never tried it on anyone. I just figure, if someone wants me, they gotta take me like I am. Not like they don't know up front, right? If they don't want me to be happy, well, maybe they don't actually love me so much, do they. And if that doesn't make =them= happy... maybe we ain't meant to be." He shrugs; it's a strange ripple in that position. "But hey, moot point thus far."

Tristan bends his right knee, then props his left ankle on it, and wedges himself further down into the beanbag. He gives a snort of laughter at the news, "-Miki-? There's a surprise, I'd think Safi's too butch for him!" He looks sideways at Ren, considering the rest of what the Kin says. "Yeah, it's not like it's not immediately, glaringly obvious that yer a, eheh, social butterfly? Anybody interested in you would kinda have to have that staring 'em in the face. Course, sometimes, the question ain't how much they love you, but how much you love them. But, once again, talkin out my ass, not from personal experience. Had an awful lotta soaked shoulders in my time though, if ya know what I mean."

Serendipity snirks at the first comment. "Hey, Miki's ridiculously fuckin' hot. Straight guys'd start seriously reconsidering their stance if he was givin' 'em the eye. I can guaranTEE people can easily wanna fuck 'em both 'til they break." He sighs and stretches out one arm, tweaking a strand of Tristan's hair, looking at it with interest. It's green, shading to teal, tinted by the ever-changing light. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I got surprisingly sponge-like shoulders myself... thing is, and I guess I'm not talkin' from my own experience either, not that way... but, y'know, it =is= partly from my sisters 'n' mom 'n' other relations 'n' shit... the one-true-love thing's a crock. I mean, no one acts like if you have more'n one kid it means you don't love the first one enough or anything. So how's someone who's gotta be the moon and sun an' all the universe t'me to be happy, and gonna need me to be happy to be happy, ever gonna work?" He lets go and twists, flopping onto his back on the other bag with a sigh, hands laced behind his head. "Situation like that, I loved 'em a lot... I guess I'd hafta love 'em enough t' leave 'em." The light shades through indigo across his face.

Tristan mulls this over for a bit, watching the slow rainbow shift of the light, cocking his head a little to see Ren's fingers on his hair. "Safi must love Jack enough to let him do what he wants with her," he says after a while. "Guess that's the name of the game. How much you're willing to put up with from the person you love most in th' world. Guess you hafta make real sure that they fit the bill, though, else you end up like poor little Safi."

Serendipity sighs again. "Yeah. It just... if he loves her so much, he oughta be able to trust he won't lose her just 'cause he doesn't =own= her. And she shouldn't hafta make that kinda sacrifice. Insecurity ain't love." He blows out a puff of air, disturbing the strands of hair that remain free from the ponytail. "Eh, what the fuck do I know." He half-smiles, quiet a moment. "...so, hey."

"If there's one thing, one single lonely thing I ever learned from a lot of long nights listenin' to woes," Tristan says, with a faint grin, "it's that bein two people, or more people, takes a certain amount of sacrifice." He looks back at Ren, also quiet. "Hey."

Serendipity turns onto his side to look at Tristan for a few moments again, and then leans over and gives him a short, soft kiss, while the light cycles around to crimson again. "I was thinkin', I'm glad you haven't blown this popsicle stand yet." He drops back to his beanbag. "...so how come your hair's white? I mean, I know you're old, but the resta you doesn't look it."

Tristan gets a sort of wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights look as he's kissed. He blinks at Ren. Then reanimates, flopping around in the beanbag to squirm his butt deeper into it. "Uh, well, it's kinna complicated. See, uhm, okay, there's different kinds of vampires, right? Called the clans. And every vampire's a member of a clan, because really what they are is bloodlines, you can't be a vampire without belonging to one a these bloodlines. Except if you're like me. Because--Okay okay, lemme start over. *I* don't have a clan. I'm clanless. Called caitiff. Now what you're askin yourself now is," he waggles a long bony finger at Ren, "is 'how th'rising dawn can the leech not have a clan when he just said that all leeches have clans?' Well I'm glad you asked that, because the answer is that either th' bloodlines can mix, resulting in a weird hybrid kinda thingy like me, or the blood can get so thin that yer hardly a vampire at all. Gaia forgive me fer sayin it but I'm glad I'm not one a them. Okay, so, we got established that I'm a caitiff, right?" He pauses, not for breath, but to make sure Ren's following.

Serendipity is, though it's taking some concentration. Still, he can't help looking mildly amused, despite the obvious interest. He nods periodically, encouragingly. "Right. You're a caitiff, 'cause you got the vampire equivalent of =my= ancestry."

Tristan laughs. "Right. Okay. So, for every one a these clans, something kinda fucked up happens to em, just because they're so special as to be them. One of these clans's called the Gangrel, which is a word from the Old Country that means kinda wild and woolly and a bunch of weird parts slapped together. Okay, anyway, Gangrel, the thing that happens to them, is when they frenzy--when they lose it, like a Garou--they start turning into an animal, a piece at a time, because they're all afflicted with animals and shit. Or is that affiliated?" He pauses, thinking, then shrugs. "Anyway, the whole point is, I have to be part Gangrel somewhere, because when I frenzied, oh so long ago, all my hair turned white like this."

"Yeah?" Ren asks, picking another strand of the hair and eyeing it critically. "...what kinda animal'd you be turning into, then? And what other bits you got in you, then?" he inquires, looking rather fascinated.

Tristan shrugs. "That, I dunno. Gangrel's the only really obvious one. Well, and the Nosferatu, they turn into the shit-ugliest motherfuckers you'll ever clap eyes on. Hey, I'm ugly, but not THAT ugly." He grins, flashing those beautiful teeth. "Anyway, I dunno what kind of animal, because it doesn't happen every time I frenzy. Hell, not even most of the time. Only other things that've happened is my eyes get reflective in the dark, like a cat, and I'm kinda...you know...bendy."

Serendipity shrugs. "=I= think you're kinda cute," he contends casually, with only a faint half-smile. "So that was the eye reflection the other night, yeah? Weird, but handy. And the bendy thing's just... cool. I mean, I'm pretty flexible, but."

Tristan grins lopsidedly. "Yeah? Well, thanks. And, actually, that was a blood power I got, with the glowy red eyes an' all. Bein' bendy's the best part, I think. It's pretty fun."

"...Yeah," Ren confirms, with another little shrug, and grins fully. "Anytime. And it looks fun. Makes me wanna take up yoga or somethin'. Improve my skills." He stretches; the light's gone to yellow again. "So..." Shifting again, a little closer to the vampire. "Felt bad 'bout makin' you wrong the other night. So." The grin quirks a little, and he gives Tristan a sidelong glance, "...you hungry t'day?"

Tristan's grin becomes even more crooked. That desire that always rises in him at mention of the hunger does so now, but he doesn't immediately answer, dropping his gaze from Ren. "Y' like the Kiss?" he asks, lightly.

"I like all kisses," Serendipity replies, equally lightly. "...but yeah. Yeah, I like it. And I like you, so what the hell? Plus, it leaves a few more rabbits for Safi to catch," he teases.

Tristan chuckles, rubs the back of his hand across his mouth. "Appreciate it. Worried, though." His muddled eyes flick back to Ren. "People get addicted."

"...yeah? What happens?" Ren asks, curling a bit more comfortably on his side.

Tristan waves vaguely. "Y'know. Addiction stuff. Y'can't feel good without the Kiss, can't stop thinking about it, how bad you want it. That kinda thing. Not real nice. Not saying that I think yer a junkie or anything, just that... it happens."

Serendipity mmms. "Well. I didn't get addicted to alcohol or pot or tobacco... 'course, not like I've =had= that mucha the latter. Then again, it's kinda like sex, and one or two people've made accusations there," he remarks wryly. He doesn't sound too concerned, but at least he's taking it seriously. Ish.

Tristan spreads his hands. "I heard people compare it to heroin, except better. So, you know, I worry, 'specially as it's been decades since I bit one person on a regular basis." He eyes Ren, rubs his mouth again. "But, hey. You're a big boy." He opens his arms. "C'mere."

Serendipity grins. "Well," he decides, "I'll keep it in mind, and you keep an eye on me, and if it starts fuckin' up anything else, we'll cut it off. Yeah?" That said, he sits up and twists to accept the invitation, sliding in against the vampire.

[Game called on account of sleep...]