[Sept. 17] The Library, Morning

[silentsorrow]

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.

Comments

[up_in_smoke]

"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.

[silentsorrow]

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.

[up_in_smoke]

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.

[silentsorrow]

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?

[up_in_smoke]

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.

[silentsorrow]

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.

[up_in_smoke]

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."

[silentsorrow]

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.

[up_in_smoke]

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..."

[silentsorrow]

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.

[up_in_smoke]

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?"

[silentsorrow]

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.

[up_in_smoke]

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.

[silentsorrow]

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.

[up_in_smoke]

"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.

[silentsorrow]

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?

[up_in_smoke]

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?"

[silentsorrow]

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.

[up_in_smoke]

Dover followed the direction of that frown to the shelves, eyes travelling over the tattered, well-used spines of the books that filled them. And then he nodded faintly in understanding.

"Fantasy is practically untouched, you know," he shared conversationally. "Horror has a fan here or there, but I think most people here don't have the stomach for it, these days."

[silentsorrow]

Sorrow grimaced. That wasn't really surprising.

Fantasy was too much like their lives, in a lot of ways, and horror struck even closer.

She arched her eyebrows at him curiously. Did he make it a point to check?

[up_in_smoke]

"Entire reason I started looking through this section in the first place was I noticed all the books were so well-read back when I was new, but couldn't help but notice that at the time, most of the upperclassmen were young lads like myself," Dover explained. "Fantasy and horror were both pretty much untouched, maybe two cracked spines between them, tops, and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about."

[silentsorrow]

And now he was stuck with them, wasn't he? She looked at him, then pressed her hand to the shelf and pretended it was stuck and shrugged a bit.

There were worse things than being stuck to these books, she supposed.

[up_in_smoke]

"Right," Dover mused. "Now that I've shown them the least bit of approval, they're never going to bloody well let me go."

And he had a book about pirates in his hand to prove it.

"It could always be worse," he noted. "We could be sitting in the non-fiction section, absolutely enraptured with books about the science of bellybutton lint."

[silentsorrow]

Sorrow gave him an openly skeptical look.

First, she had taste. (Which might be debatable elsewhere, but that wasn't the point.)

Second, she highly doubted there were books on the science of bellybutton lint.

[up_in_smoke]

Grossology, Sorrow. It also had sections on earwax, flatulence, and bad breath!

".... Well someone probably does," Dover allowed with a shrug. "Otherwise people wouldn't get published with drivel like that, hmm?