skymuffins | [Sept. 17] The Library, Morning

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[Sept. 17] The Library, Morning

Saturday mornings were her favourite time to be in the library. Even the more studious of her classmates (but not hers, never hers) tended to have a bit of a lie-in on the first day of the weekend, after an evening spent hanging out and talking and unwinding from the week.

All of that was why she enjoyed the haunting quiet of the library when it was only her, the ghosts of students past, and Master Dominic, who was puttering about with paperwork and never gave her more than the barest of glances when she came in.

Here, there was silence, but it was a comfortable one instead of the achy, hurtful one she usually walked around in.

Even with a few ghosts lingering at other tables, though none were with her as she wandered the stacks of books, trailing her fingers down their spines, seemed more peaceful than they usually did. Sorrow knelt down in the romance section and tried to decide which ones she wanted to read next.

They were all bad, of course, but she liked that about them. They were fluffy.

Soft.

Not much in her life was.

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If she was the sort to grin, she'd be grinning right about now. As it was, her eyes got a little brighter.

She shrugged and hugged the pirates book close to her for a moment before offering it back to him again, properly this time. There were books that she felt the same about.

It wasn't that bad, see?

Dover accepted the book with a grin and a nod, turning the Celtic mythos book over in one hand thoughtfully before holding out to her, equally properly.

"I'll take good care of it," he promised. "Won't come back any more tatty'n when I got my paws on it, you'll see."

He wouldn't even risk it getting scorched around the edges during those tutoring sessions he'd started the other week. See, now that was respect for a book, right? Right?

Surely that was basic respect for a book, no?

Sorrow took the Celtic book, held it up, and nodded. She would do the same with this one, though truth be told, she was far less likely to burn it. She shifted the hand holding the book so that it was held between her thumb and pinkie finger with the other three fingers forming a 'roof' over it. With her other hand, she mimed rain coming down and shook her head.

See? She would keep it from rain.

Though possibly not from Raine and she frowned a little, unsure how to express that. Well, it probably wouldn't matter. Raine seemed to go through spurts where she did not see him much for a few days. Perhaps it was a non-issue. She shrugged, a bit helplessly.

Yeah, there was a whole world of things being said there that Dover had no hope of following. But at least he caught the 'safe from rain' bit, and it got him smiling a little as he nodded toward the window.

"Well, with any luck you won't have to worry too much about the weather. My apologies if we get an unseasonal downpour, though. If that one's on me own head, it'll be because the alternative is a forest fire or something, I'm sure."

Tutoring. Oh, tutoring.

Sorrow gave him wide, quizzical eyes at that.

A forest fire? Was there something wrong with his powers? Was he feeling all right? He was old enough that that sort of thing wasn't supposed to be an issue!

Excuse her, but she was just going to have to frown a bit harder and see if she couldn't check his temperature with her hand.

If he was sick, he should go to the infirmary! Or be resting!

And so help him, he was going to get busted down this aisle for laughing aloud yet.

"Nono, not me, luv," he admonished, still smiling as he waved a hand. "I've managed to talk the administration into letting me tutor another pyro this year. One of the elevenths who's been having a few confidence issues with that particular aspect of her stone. Mine is completely under control, no need to worry your pretty head over little ol' me."

... She withdrew her hand, flushing as she looked down sheepishly. Well. Didn't she feel a bit ridiculous? She did. Sorrow threw him an apologetic glance.

It was tempting, really, to just slip away and wallow in her embarrassment but he was smiling and so it couldn't be all that bad, truly.

And besides, she was curious. Which eleventh? She held up two fingers, for the eleven, and then looked at him curiously.

"Allison," Dover replied easily, still smiling a bit. "Timid slip of a thing, all doubts and worries. The fire's giving her a bit of a run for her money, which isn't unusual for an eleventh with pyro of that particular nature."

It wasn't even unusual that she'd be so bent on hiding from it. He hadn't exactly gotten along with his own at first, himself.

Sorrow pursed her lips as she tried to place Allison. There weren't that many students in the school but she didn't pay all that much attention to most of them, really, because most of them were hurtful and it twisted at her to know they weren't alone the way she was.

(Envy, Sorrow supposed, and grief.)

She tapped the book and then brightened. Waffle girl! It had to be her! Sorrow mimed mixing something in a bowl and then acted out the act of using a waffle maker, using the book as one half and her hand as the other and looked at him hopefully.

That made sense, right?

... There were days when it was hard to get things across in utter silence. Sorrow conceded this was probably one of them.

Dover couldn't help but twitch right around the corners of his mouth, half-apologetically, half actually legitimately amused that he had only a vague idea what she was doing to that poor book.

"Never tried her cookin' before," he noted, lightly. "Vegan, here, and it looks to me like there's a good chance that your book there might have eggs and butter in it, hm?"

Bookwaffles. The breakfast of champions. Non-vegan ones.

She gave him an apologetic eyes and a shrug and a nod. Well, yes. There were eggs and butter in waffles though Sorrow supposed you could use egg substitute and something other than butter to make them palatable for him.

Sorrow opened the book and pretended to read a page while making notes with her free hand and then looked at him questioningly. Lessons? How were those, then?

It was fortunate, really, that Dover wasn't utter shite at charades, wasn't it?

"Theory," he shared, shaking his head and looking somewhat bitter about the word. "She wants to learn theory. Theory theory theory, I could cram theory into her skull until there wasn't room for anything else and it wouldn't change a bloody thing. They teach theory in classrooms. She's just worried she'll start a fire."

Truth be told, he couldn't much blame her. He couldn't approve, but he couldn't blame her.

Sorrow bit her lip and looked down. Theory wasn't that bad, was it?

Most of what she learned was theory and she was doing fine.

Though, on the other hand, her power did not involve fire.

But it could be, she understood, more dangerous in some ways.

Dover managed to grasp the gist of that look, and then shrugged, shaking his head a little.

"Theory is well and good," he allowed, "but I'm not a theory tutor. I was brought on to see her through the practical, since she's already learning more theory'n you can shake a stick at in class."

Sorrow spun her hand, like she was mixing something. Perhaps that would go better? It would probably be more comforting in any case.

Power was scary.

Power was scary. And that was why it was so important to reign it in, before it could get the better of you.

"What, teach both? She's into geomancy, too... I'm not, I'm a pyro first, hydro second, healer to tie it all off nice and neat. I did offer we work with something she's more comfortable with, her geo, since the principles of working with the elements are more or less the same across th'board. And I'm offering another signing bonus. She's not a healer, but she's interested in learning first aid..."

Sorrow held up her hands, palms out, as if in surrender. Enough, enough! She shrugged, shaking her head. She was no teacher! No doubt he had it well enough in hand.

That earned a pause, though. Did he like it? Was it interesting? Did he like his student?

But how to ask all of that? Hmmm.

Sorrow tapped her chin with the book as she thought, then shrugged a little regretfully. Any game of charades would be too complicated and she would not ask another way.

Dover gave her a little smile and a nod of understanding.

"We'll suffice it to say that she's a good girl, and she's trying, and she's just a wee slip of a thing yet. I don't expect miracles for at least a little while longer."

And, he hoped, that covered the important parts.

"Classes are going well for you, I hope?"

Sorrow considered that. They were going about the same as always, really, so she held out one hand flat in the air and drew it across then faked a yawn as she covered her mouth with her other hand.

Then she looked sheepishly at him. They were class, right?

Outside of class, she thought, was where things were changing. Sorrow pointed at herself and then at the space beside her and shrugged a little. There was company, of a sort, these days. It was odd.

Dover needed a moment to parse that one, and then decided, to hell with it, he might as well wager a guess.

"Met somebody, did you? That bloke from eleventh grade? He a half-decent sort, then?"

He, personally, wasn't really going out of his way to meet the guy, but that was mostly because he hadn't had the opportunity to. The 'looking into the future' thing was unnerving, but no more unnerving than the way he looked with his shirt off, and he'd done that to himself.

But prepping to tutor meant that his own social time was a little on the sparse side these days.

Sorrow lifted her hands and shook her head, like it was a great mystery. He seemed nice but then he'd go off and disappear and even without that, he had his problems and she had hers.

He just sat at her table and they'd traded books once.

Miming all of that, she felt would make little sense so she settled for wriggling her hands uncertainly. He was not mean. She liked his name. Like raindrops.

They weren't really friends, though.

"I get the feeling he isn't half the bogeyman the other students in his grade think he is," Dover decided with a shrug. "But then, not many people around here ever are. The worst ones are usually the ones that fit in the best, at any rate. Figure they can get away with bloody near anything they feel like."

He fit in well enough himself, these days. That hadn't always been the case, mind.

Sorrow held up one finger to her lips, like a secret, held up two fingers, for eleven, and then tapped the book he'd lent her with a conspiratorial nod.

Raine liked them too.

She highly doubted he'd really want that shared around. But what was the harm between others who read the same sort of thing?

Maybe it was a sign. All the odd-ones-out liked hopeless romance stories. What did that say about them, living vicariously through literary tripe?

"See, then? The whole bunch of us clearly have superior taste in reading material, don't we?"

Sorrow just shook her head at him and rolled her eyes. He was setting his standards far too low.

But then, what did it say about the school that every romance novel in the library was well read?

Nothing good.

She frowned at the shelves.

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