Brunnhold University Library
Loshis 13, 2720 - Afternoon
Loshis 13, 2720 - Afternoon
Betrayal. That's what she felt. Pure and simple betrayal.
"Get out of Pre-Modern Galdori History, I said," Cerise muttered to herself, squinting at a seemingly endless array of shelves. "Help the eccentric with his research! What could possibly go wrong? Ugh."
Cerise was stalking up and down the library shelves like a caged animal, snarling at each and every spine. A paper! He'd asked her to write a paper! Was the practical research not enough? Of course, she'd been given the assignment weeks ago, and it was due on the eight, which meant she hadn't started it at all. In her own defense, she had many things to do that were far, far more interesting than writing a research paper for an eccentric. That eccentric was all that stood between her and going bck to Pre-Modern Galdori History, however, so here she was. In the library, researching.
(That she was enjoying the practical work, and the impact it was having on her spellcasting, was not related in the slightest. Nor was her slow, begrudging appreciation for Mr. Bassington-Smythe's ideas. That was merely coincidence, as she certainly would never go out of her way to impress an educator. She just didn't want to be put back in her regular classes.)
At last, she found at least a couple of rather promising titles. Still grumbling, she wrestled both of the tomes off the shelf and tucked them under her arm. She had brought a back for this purpose, but somehow it felt easier to just... haul them over like this, rather than take the time and effort to open the bag to slide the books inside. She was going to settle at the first open table she found, anyway. Cerise shifted their weight, and then set off in search of an isolated spot.
A mission that proved, rather quickly, to be more difficult than she might have thought. Was the entire student body in the library right now? Didn't they have classes to be in? Lunch to eat? Friends to talk to? Scratch that last one—to her extreme displeasure, more than a few of them were doing just that, boldly loud in the middle of the research area. Cerise thought momentarily about reporting them to the librarian, just to be petty, but the books in her arms were getting heavy. Spot first, then petty vengeance.
The main area was too full for her liking, which meant she was off wandering the labyrinth of shelves to find one of the more secluded tables scattered within. The edge of the leather covers were biting into her hands; she would take the first open seat she found. If someone else was there, well. That would be their problem, not hers. She would make sure of it.
Luck was not on her side. The very first table she found, after getting turned around twice, had one other person sitting at it. Of course. She would just have to hope they were quiet, or that a subtle press of her field would get rid of them. It often did. When she got a bit closer, however, Cerise realized that she knew this person. They hadn't spoken in—over a year, Cerise realized with a strange, brittle twisting. Not since she'd last been home, before Father's... before. But they certainly knew each other.
Her brother had, after all, been Cerise's best friend. Until he scarpered off to parts unknown, that is. The jackass. He didn't even respond to her letter.
"Laureline," Cerise said with undisguised surprise as she approached the table. She set the books down heavily. Then, after a pause, "May I join you?" She could not seem to make it sound much like an actual question.
"Get out of Pre-Modern Galdori History, I said," Cerise muttered to herself, squinting at a seemingly endless array of shelves. "Help the eccentric with his research! What could possibly go wrong? Ugh."
Cerise was stalking up and down the library shelves like a caged animal, snarling at each and every spine. A paper! He'd asked her to write a paper! Was the practical research not enough? Of course, she'd been given the assignment weeks ago, and it was due on the eight, which meant she hadn't started it at all. In her own defense, she had many things to do that were far, far more interesting than writing a research paper for an eccentric. That eccentric was all that stood between her and going bck to Pre-Modern Galdori History, however, so here she was. In the library, researching.
(That she was enjoying the practical work, and the impact it was having on her spellcasting, was not related in the slightest. Nor was her slow, begrudging appreciation for Mr. Bassington-Smythe's ideas. That was merely coincidence, as she certainly would never go out of her way to impress an educator. She just didn't want to be put back in her regular classes.)
At last, she found at least a couple of rather promising titles. Still grumbling, she wrestled both of the tomes off the shelf and tucked them under her arm. She had brought a back for this purpose, but somehow it felt easier to just... haul them over like this, rather than take the time and effort to open the bag to slide the books inside. She was going to settle at the first open table she found, anyway. Cerise shifted their weight, and then set off in search of an isolated spot.
A mission that proved, rather quickly, to be more difficult than she might have thought. Was the entire student body in the library right now? Didn't they have classes to be in? Lunch to eat? Friends to talk to? Scratch that last one—to her extreme displeasure, more than a few of them were doing just that, boldly loud in the middle of the research area. Cerise thought momentarily about reporting them to the librarian, just to be petty, but the books in her arms were getting heavy. Spot first, then petty vengeance.
The main area was too full for her liking, which meant she was off wandering the labyrinth of shelves to find one of the more secluded tables scattered within. The edge of the leather covers were biting into her hands; she would take the first open seat she found. If someone else was there, well. That would be their problem, not hers. She would make sure of it.
Luck was not on her side. The very first table she found, after getting turned around twice, had one other person sitting at it. Of course. She would just have to hope they were quiet, or that a subtle press of her field would get rid of them. It often did. When she got a bit closer, however, Cerise realized that she knew this person. They hadn't spoken in—over a year, Cerise realized with a strange, brittle twisting. Not since she'd last been home, before Father's... before. But they certainly knew each other.
Her brother had, after all, been Cerise's best friend. Until he scarpered off to parts unknown, that is. The jackass. He didn't even respond to her letter.
"Laureline," Cerise said with undisguised surprise as she approached the table. She set the books down heavily. Then, after a pause, "May I join you?" She could not seem to make it sound much like an actual question.
