Closed [W.M. Library] Poetic Progress [Tsaba, Niall, Yuri]

[Vernadel]

Vernadel 12, Fall, 513 AV Though most Akvatari loved rainy weather, Vernadel had never enjoyed it. For some reason, she always felt a tremendous pressure behind her eyeballs when it was raining out and today was no exception. The pain in her head hampered her concentration and as she perched on the stool in the Portraying the Races class, she could not find any pleasure in putting brush to canvas, a task that usually brought her much joy. Sighing heavily, Vern stared at her artwork. What had begun as a profile of Niall Hammerfist had turned into a soggy mess that did not resemble the handsome Isur in the least. Instead, it looked like a rather lopsided fish with blonde hair trickling down it's back. She just wanted to scrap the piece and start over, but her instructor would be angry with her if she did, so she pretended to work on the painting while her mind drifted to more desirable thoughts and ideas. When class was finally over twenty chimes later, Vernadel shot up from her stool and grabbed her canvas to hang it on a hook to dry. She quickly scooped up her brushes and paints and put them away in her cubby, then washed her hands. Hoping to meet Niall at the library soon, Vern grabbed her tortoiseshell sack and made it out of the room first, whispers of butterseal following her like a scattering of mosquitos. She frowned and slowed her progress as she flew outside into the steady rain. Hanging her head and limbs low, the Akvatari glided over the heads of the Zeltivans in the streets. The small streaks of paint on her arms and face slid down her skin as the water ran through them. Vernadel moped about, glancing up now and then to make sure she was headed in the right direction. After a bit, the Wright Memorial Library came into view and Vern fluttered up the steps and gripped the door handle with both hands. She had only been to the library once before now, but she remembered how heavy the door was. Beating her wings rapidly, she pulled the door open and slipped inside before it closed behind her once again. The sight of all the books would normally have been thrilling, but Vernadel was especially dejected today, from the rain, from the teasing of her fellow students, and from her loneliness. She hovered above the floor, dripping onto a rug below her and clinging to her tortoiseshell sack. Her left cheek was marked with green and orange stripes and there was a blueish streak on her chin. It looked as if she had been crying colorful tears. Wanting nothing more than to bury her head into some gloomy verse, Vern sent her eyes around the interior of the grand building, trying to find a poetry section.

[Tsaba]

Tsaba had just finished her shift at work when it started raining. So, naturally, she was trapped in the library until it stopped.

There were two reasons Tsaba didn't like the rain. The first was that water was like poison to her. It got into her stitching and encouraged rot, and finding new bodies in Zeltiva wasn't exactly easy. The second was that it drove people off the streets into the library, and while that itself was probably a good thing, the people came in wet. And then they pawed at the shelves with wet hands and let wet hair drip onto pages. Sometimes, Tsaba wished that Zeltiva took the same stance on book damage as Sahova. Some people deserved it.

She carefully slid the library's newest replacement onto the correct shelf and stood back. She could get back to work, she supposed, and get a head start on her next shift. Or she could take some time to read something that interested her. She glanced towards the doors, trying to judge the downpour, and saw perhaps the strangest thing she'd seen since arriving in Zeltiva.

The young woman wandering uncertainly about the library was short, although significantly taller than Tsaba herself. She was covered in trinkets, which Tsaba had come to expect of sea-people, many of which were entangled in her dark, wet hair. Tsaba could already envision that hair dripping water all over everything. There were streaks of paint on her face, already smeared by water, and Tsaba didn't want to envision what they would do to the books if they dripped. But none of that was particularly strange. What was strange was that the woman didn't walk; she flew, on large, blue-purple wings. And she flew because she didn't have any legs. Instead, she had a furred tail, much like a seal.

Tsaba frowned. Okay then. Seal-butterfly-person, fair enough. But the important thing, the really important thing, was that it was somebody in the library who looked in need of guidance.

She plastered a practiced, friendly-looking expression on her face, and walked over. "Hi! Do you need help finding anything?"

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[Vernadel]

Vernadel Whirling around at the sound of a voice behind and below her, Vernadel stared at a short, slight girl with long blonde pigtails. There was a very strange, almost creepy smile frozen on the girl's features and Vern looked around to make certain she hadn't been mistaken. Surely this young girl was not in charge here, but there was no one else in sight. Descending to the floor, the Akvatari's tail folded beneath her and her wings rested together straight out of her back. Standing, she was nearly eye to eye with the girl, since her height was lessened considerably when half her tail was used to balance on the floor. Vern peered at the human, no more than a child, really. She had bright green eyes rimmed with black, as if she had been playing with her mother's cosmetics. But on closer examination, there was some sort of spectral eeriness about those eyes and Vernadel was not sure whether she should flee from the girl or stick around and talk to her. Since the child did not seem frightened or freaked out by her, that was a plus in the Akvatari's book, so she refrained from leaving. Instead, she slung the strap of her tortoiseshell sack over her shoulder and one arm and smiled back at the young girl. "Hello," Vern said. "Thank you for asking. Do you by any chance have a section on poetry?" She wiped one of her hands down the length of the opposite arm, picking up raindrops in her palm. "And perhaps a towel?" she added.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall lay belly up on the floor in the aisle between Huma and Itsaac in the poetry section with a small bound volume open, his eyes glued to the pages. He had never seen so many books before, and he had never heard of, well any of them. But the random book he had withdrawn from the overstocked shelves of literature had yielded, what Niall knew to be, a masterpiece. Unable to contain himself, he read aloud, if only in a whisper. “Her skin of palest winter rested upon the heat of my breast. My fall had come and gone, and yet my arms would not unwrap themselves from her.” He stopped a moment and closed the little book, looking at the letters that had been pressed into the leather binding. “The Isurian Queen.” He whispered. “This is the most amazing smut I have ever read. Niall laid the book on his chest and contemplated the possible depths this depraved little novel would go to. But that would have to wait. Niall had received a letter from a pigeon Kelvic today, inviting him to meet his Akvatari Companion in the library today and he had been looking forward to going over the volumes of work here in the hopes of finding some new alloy, or new technique of smithing. After all he owed it to the poor fellow who had transformed into a Naked Man just to make sure he received the message. He got up, and wandered to the nearby table he had left his research books on and sat in the chair he had draped with his new half cape. He still couldn’t get over just how comfortable these clothes were. And the smell was like fresh sheets in an Inn. He felt renewed. This city filled him with hope. Something he had not felt in a long time. Though strangely, this place continued to dredge up old feelings. He sat back in his seat and exhaled loudly through his nose. His mind’s eye was somewhere on a mountain side in Kalea, watching his first love die in his arms. He shook the memory from his mind and focused on a dusty volume before him, its dry inkings explaining the properties that Nickel added to an alloy.

[Yuri Lehrer]

Wandering about Zeltiva in the rain to Yuri was just like any other day when he was out on his travels but for some reason he had found himself in the library wandering the seemingly endless aisles of books for anything on the subject of poetry, which interested Yuri somewhat, yet he had never found the time to learn due to his adventures always keeping him on the move. After a while Yuri found the poetry section a began looking for a book which might have interested him as he was about to pull a book titled "Ballads of a Winters Flame" from its shelf he heard the faintest whisper "Her skin of palest winter rested upon the heat of my breast. My fall had come and gone, and yet my arms would not unwrap themselves from her.” Yuri remembered the voice from somewhere and began looking for its source before realising that he had heard a whisper and it's owner couldn't have been very far away. Yuri wandered the aisles looking for the owner of the whisper and was about to give up when he noticed something out the corner of his eye, at first glance it looked like someone had decided that they were to tired and had fallen asleep whilst reading the book but on closer inspection the person, which Yuri was certain was an Isur, was still fully conscious and reading. As Yuri continued to observe silently from the edge of the aisle, he began to study this Isur more closely and, as the Isur sat back and exhaled through his nose, he noticed something which he had only seen with only one other Isur, he was staring off into space as though haunted by old memories. Yuri waited for the man's attention to be refocused on the book he was reading before moving towards him, beaming smile on his face as he called out "NIALL! You old rascal, how are you?"

[Tsaba]

Guaging strangers' reactions to her had almost become a game for Tsaba by that point. The girl stared hard at her eyes but didn't shrink back, pale or reach for something to defend herself, so she chalked that up as a positive reaction. Tsaba never had much to do with poetry, but her estimation of the newcomer rose considerably when she requested a towel. "I'm sure I could find something! One moment, please." Tsaba dashed into the copying office to fetch one of the lengths of fabric she used to clean water and ink spills, poked around until she found a clean, dry one, and returned. "Now. Poetry." Not a section Tsaba had had very much to do with. She was, however, familiar with the general layout, and she was pretty sure she recalled placing books on shelves near a poetry section. "This way. My name is Tsaba, by the way," she added; making small talk had almost become habit after a season of living among pulsers. She led the way around several shelves, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to be sure that the winged girl was keeping up.

"Poetry -- here we go. Right next to the... man lounging on the carpet, and the gentleman who likes to shout in a library." Tsaba hated rainy weather.

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[Vernadel]

Vernadel So thankful for the towel, Vernadel took the fabric that the girl handed her and wiped down her arms and face as best as she could. Then, she fluttered in the air and dropped the fabric on the ground over the drips she'd gotten on the floor. Lowering herself parallel to the floor, she wiped at the water and then balled the cloth up in her hand. She carried it with her, unsure whether it would be rude to give it back to the girl or not. "Thank you very much," she said and the strange human led her around the library to a poetry section. "Tsaba?" she asked after the girl spoke her name. "That is a very curious name, but lovely," Vern added quickly. "I'm Vernadel and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." She was going to ask if the girl worked there, but it seemed rather obvious by now that she did, so the Akvatari kept her mouth shut and followed the blonde braids through the massive stacks of books. Her jewelry jangled together as she flew, despite her attempts to stop it from making too loud of sounds, and she worried that the girl would get irritated by her. Though every time she turned her head to look over her shoulder, she seemed to be content, if stoic and rather emotionless. And then they came around one side of a large shelf and Vernadel almost squealed in delight. For there was Niall Hammerfist, her dearest friend in Zeltiva! She only let a high pitched squeak escape her lips, noticing that Tsaba was looking a little cross now at the noise level from a boisterous voice. There was another man present, a young man with kind brown eyes, who seemed to know Niall. He looked at her in awe, however, as if he had never seen such an odd species. With all of the others around, Vern was not about to dive bomb on the reclining man on the floor, as she might have done if they were alone because she was always happy to see him. Though her mood brightened considerably, Vernadel was still rather morose as she whispered, "Niall, you got my message, then. I'm glad you're here." "Hello," she said next, turning to the young man. "I'm Vernadel." She would have stuck her hand out toward him, but she was positive that the man would be a little bit cautious around her and he might not want to touch her at all. So Vern just gave him a wan smile and twisted the wet cloth between her fingers.

[Yuri Lehrer]

Shortly after calling out to Niall, Yuri heard a jingling noise and then a high pitched squeak which drew his attention to two more people, or rather one person and something which he hadn't seen before on his 3 years of travel, someone who had Gossamer wings and what appeared to be a seals tail. She must be one of the Akvatari I have heard so much about. Yuri thought to himself as he realised that he might be staring and looked instead to the person who was accompanying the Akvatari, she looked to be younger than Yuri but on a closer inspection he noticed the tell tale black pigment around her eyes betrayed her status as a Nuit, she also looked annoyed which Yuri supposed was due to his shouting in the Library. Returning his focus back to the Akavatari he noticed that she had been whispering to Niall and as she turned to face Yuri she simply said "Hello, I'm Vernadel" After saying this she smiled, although the smile looked a little forced to Yuri. Reasoning that she would have liked to know his name as well, Yuri put on a a genuine smile as he said in a friendly, quieter voice so as not to annoy the Nuit any further "Hello Vernadel, my name is Yuri Lehrer. Forgive me for staring but I have not seen another person like you while I have been travelling." Having said this Yuri outstretched his hand to Vernadel for a handshake.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall was reading a dry bit in the blacksmiths journal about how hot nickel in the matrix looked upon close inspection of a forged blade. The authors account was starting to make him wish dearly for something to wash the pages down with, preferably something alcoholic. He had just started to eye the romance novel again wondering what adventures the Isurian Queen would get herself into next and suddenly it seemed like everything in the library exploded. A human who seemed somewhat familiar had materialized from somewhere in the bookshelves saying his name in an embarrassingly loud tone. "NIALL! You old rascal, how are you?" Niall nearly jumped out of his skin. He moved fluidly into a defensive stance, knocking his chair down, and instinctively reached for the sword that was not at his hip. He had slung it through his pack. Its hilt was securely fastened with a peace tie made of leather. He kicked himself mentally. When he realized who it was he felt overjoyed. He relaxed his stance and grinned. His old friend Yuri Lehrer looked well, though he found the horseman oddly out of place in a library. His last memory was of him riding from the gates of Syliras toward Zeltiva. He had given him a man-hug and wished him luck. Though he knew with a steed like his, he was sure the man would make his way to Zeltiva safely. He had not seen him when he arrived and feared the worst. Niall was about to give the horseman a well-deserved warm greeting when he heard yet another voice behind Yuri. "Poetry -- here we go. Right next to the... man lounging on the carpet, and the gentleman who likes to shout in a library. Nialls mouth was agape with the words he was about to say, and he closed it quickly realizing the little librarian must have caught him lying down in the aisles again. He shut his gob and struggled to give the librarian his most charming smile. Realizing he simply looked like he’d been poked in the eye, he dropped the smile and bowed his head in apology to the little librarian. When he lifted his gaze again, he realized that the little girl was not alone. Vernadel was close on her heels. Well, Vern was following on the librarians pigtails actually, as she fluttered magically on her own little breeze with those gossamer wings of hers. She was wringing a wet towel and he realized that the rain must have picked back up again and he knew he would be here for a few more hours waiting for the next lull in the storm. And like a stinger to a song, when Vernadel realized it was him, she stifled a squeak. His smile grew again this time to a beaming gleam of alabaster teeth. Having two dear friends appear at the same time in the library was wondrous. Niall could not have wished this moment into being. The only part tarnishing the joy was the deserved glare that the librarian was giving him. He should have known better than to lounge carelessly about the well-kept library. "Niall, you got my message, then. I'm glad you're here." Niall simply held his grin and shrugged. He looked on at the people crowding the table in the poetry section of the library thinking to himself what an odd menagerie they must have looked. The embarrassed Isur, the Horseman, the feisty Akvatari, and the little librarian girl… who looked dead. Niall realized he was staring. He raised his hand and opened his mouth to speak. At which point Vernadel introduced herself to Yuri, and Niall’s words fizzled in his throat just as his greeting to Yuri had. He closed his eyes in frustration and ran the fingers of his brown leather gloved hand through his red tinted blonde hair relieving a measure of it. When he opened them again he turned to right his chair. While his friends said their hellos, he tenderly lifted the sturdy wooden furniture back into place and brushed some imaginary dust off the top. He took a deep breath and exhaled quietly, his embarrassment growing. As he watched his friends meet for the first time, his gaze switched to the little librarian girl again. She was short with two braids laid neatly down her back. Though oddly enough, Niall did notice that her eyes and mouth for lack of a better word looked, unusual. Her eyes had a black rim that surrounded a strange haunted look in her eyes. For a moment he almost felt he had seen them before once, as he stared into a clear pool in the mountain passes just east of the spires. He lowered his gaze in shame to the books on the table. The romance novel he had pulled randomly from the shelves, the blacksmiths journal, and his own journal rested on the polished wood. He had pulled it from his pack when he’d arrived at the library earlier and laid it on the table intending to read from the sections his father had written. It had seemed too heavy, so he had to put it down. The dual nature of it enticed him to read it, and the fear of what he might find held him at bay. Niall closed his eyes and he listened patiently to the chaos for an opportunity to apologize to the librarian, and finally greet his friends.

[Tsaba]

Her task complete, Tsaba was about to leave, but somehow she didn't feel comfortable leaving the boistrous trio alone. If they broke something, she'd never forgive herself.

Her eyes raked quickly up and down each of them, no more than a glance, but enough to tell her what she needed to know. The flier was relatively harmless now that she was dry, and her conscientiousness in that matter spoke well for her. The man on the floor... well, lying on the floor was a bit weird, but it was hardly a crime. She herself wasn't exactly a role model for standard acceptable behaviour, if the occasional bemused glances from her various acquaintances were anything to go by. He was armed, though; that was suspicious. Although at the moment, with the Denvali activity, it was probably sensible. Her eyes lingered on his hands. Grimy hands weren't good for books. His left hand was big and calloused, and not with writing callouses either. The hand of a worker rather than a scribe. Again, no crime in that. Plenty of labourers liked to read. She hoped he wasn't the type to turn down the corners of pages to mark his place. But the right... Tsaba had never seen flesh quite that colour before. Weird. Possibly a magical effect? An illness?

Tsaba became aware that she was staring, and turned her attention instead to the third person, the shouter. He looked like a normal human to Tsaba's untrained eye, and loud as he might be, he wasn't physically damaging anything. Yet. Tsaba didn't have the authority to throw people out of the library, but she was pretty sure that if she asked them to leave, nobody would challenge her on it. She decided not to leave them just yet, not until she was sure that they wouldn't be trouble.

She slipped her right hand into the left sleeve of her dress and pressed her thumb into the focus glyph there, sending a thread of djed through the glyph and up into her eyes. The glyph heated momentarily and she knew that if she looked, it would be a now-indistinguishable smear -- but she kept it covered. Small dead children with arcane symbols on themselves tended to cause suspicion. Djed settled in her sight, she blinked, and auras began to jump out at her.

Tsaba focused on the man from the floor, trying to look like she was casually observing the scene instead of studying him. Layers or aura sharpened in her mind's eye, and she carefully teased and filtered out his heart rate (normal), temperature (normal), looking for anything unusual.

She wanted to know just what was wrong with his arm.

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