fandomhigh | Library; Wednesday [ 10/02 ]

Adah did not choose the book on the top of the stack; instead, carefully, she tried to remove the middle without disturbing the top. Of course, this endeavor would take a lot of focus and work, and would probably take the entire period to accomplish.

Imagine Adah's disappointment to realize that it the book she had endeavored so hard to remove was on Biblical interpretations.

She found it a very fitting analogy to the content of the book. All work for no pay...

River clutched a book tight to her chest as she entered the library, one that she was about to return to the library aide rather than to the library itself. It had been of major importance this weekend, when she had been searching for her lost memories. Instead of her past she had found the book's owner.

But today they were both different. She had a painful past she could no longer forget, and she assumed Adah was back to herself too. Their meeting this weekend might just be a parenthesis of no significance.

She had read the book of course, especially the marked poems, and then placed two pieces of string marking poems (http://moonbrain-tam.livejournal.com/27183.html) back for Adah.

Nervously she approached the desk, her mind reaching out to listen to Adah's mind.

Almost idly and reluctantly, Adah had been shifting through the pages of the interpretations, her mind the usual cynical line-up of her bitter responses. The last shall be first, indeed, so Ada marches on with the banner of glory trailing behind her; it is red, and the wind catches it so that it, too, limps. Oh, s'God, Dog's Ho! Blessed are the meek, as they shall inherit nothing, as the strong have large hands that grab without thought.

Any interruption would have been welcome; as movement caught her eyes and this particular interruption approached, it was certainly above welcome, even if Adah had to duck her head for the odd remembering of those REM functions, a faint hint, a REM ember...remember. Unless River was having a particularly off day, Adah knew that it was too late to try to shield those thoughts from coming; they were there, so, already, the other girl would have a head full of what was filling Adah's, of lawn, and poetry, Snikcidy Limes and the Ohppas Keerg, folded legs with open books like blankets of words across their knees, conspiracies, tendencies, brushed back hair and parted lips...

Adah figured there was no point in hiding anything from River about the nearly lucid dreams that seemed to take a hold of both her mind and her cheeks, slightly her chest, so she let them come freely. No sense in hiding, just peeking out slightly through a curtain of hair that she was incredibly grateful for, to wait and see if they'd catch the other girl off guard in their random intimacy.

But, mostly, what existed in each scenario of River's reaction, what stayed consistent is that, no matter what happened, if River was really done with it, that she'd get her book back, hoping that the other girl didn't decide to hold it ransom until Adah's thoughts turn back to more normal ones that didn't involve kissing her.

River didn't know it was a dream, and Adah didn't know it was a shared one. But Adah was right, there was no point in trying to hide whatever it was from River, especially not when she was listening intently. With her cheeks matchingly blushing, River approached the desk slowly and gracefully, one foot placed in front of the other with great concentration. A little reluctantly she released the book and let her hand place it in front of Adah. "No ransom."

Adah's eyes went to the book for a moment, an action as simple as verify that, yes, it was a book. It was the book she'd lent to River and there were now two strings that weren't there before, markings, favorites? She thought to pull the book along the surface of the desk, closer to herself, cleaiming it her own again, but, instead, she lifted her eyes toward River. There was a moment where thoughts of the supposed dream took the foreground, but then, with a simple blink of her clear eyes, she put it aside in favor of a silent question, wondering what sort of random River would have expected to hold for it, anyway.

The question made River's face turn slightly redder, realising that what she'd really want to ask from Adah was to have the dream of the weekend repeated in real life. That wouldn't be fair, though. It wasn't something you asked for in ransom. "There's a party with dancing," River said, grabbing the first thing that came into her mind.

A good portion of Adah's flippant cheerfulness dropped, heavily, into her stomach like she herself had dropped to the floor Monday morning. There was still a bruise, now turning shades of purple with yellow tinging the edges, on her right hip from the incident. The REM ember of walking was the one part of the whole loosely lucid dream sequence that she disliking having to recall Being able bodied enough to do something like that, like walking, or even using her right arm, which twitched, just slightly, at the attention in her head. Twitch like a lich, like a bitch, and anything more was just pain. Dancing called up thoughts of being able bodied; River knew she couldn't dance. River knew that the last time there was something like that, it had just ended up stretching her out. Why would River mention dancing? It hurt and was frustrating that she seemed so insistent on bring up something she knew Adah couldn't do...

She started to draw the returned book in closer to herself, as if that somehow would make it better.

River's eyes widened when she realised what she had done. Of course, to her Adah could dance, did dance constantly, only Adah herself couldn't see it. "Words!" She tried. "Poetry like rhythm, floating, changing, moving. Different kind of dancing." There were so many different kinds of dancing.

That might not be enough to comfort Adah though, and River nervously spun around in a circle, trying to think of something better. She jumped up on to the desk and sat down cross-legged, biting her lip and looking at Adah.

Adah had to close her eyes tightly for a moment; after that, after walking through her head all weekend, or so it seemed, she couldn't handle spinning, twirling, whirling. She felt bad for it, too; part of her was convinced that moving like that was just as natural for River as it was for the sea lion to swim. But she needed a moment without it, and, when she opened her eyes again, she blinked at where River was; it took a moment to relocate to where she had shifted.

Too quick. Too fluid. Too River.

Adah floundered a little in attempting to center herself again; River sitting on the desk disrupted the balance. She tried to focus, focus, but her mind was leap-frogging from all the stacks of books, River, herself, books, River, pen, straighten the pen. The pen was crooked, ti neth giarts!

Adah, gulping something down her sore, rough throat, straightened it and, as calmly as she could, let herself make a speculation about her doubtfulness of a party that would allow for such dancing, outside of anything more than what they were doing now.

Again River sensed the impact she had on Adah, this time by moving. She hid her face in her hands, her uncombed hair falling over her head and on to the desk, waiting for Adah's mind to settle. Straighten the pens? "Pens are as straight as they need to be," she whispered from her hiding place, then looked up, peering at Adah through strands of hair. "Not a kind of dancing that would offend people." Although thinking of dancing that would offend people in public made her blush. "Could bring No Snikcidy Lime." Perhaps she should leave the subject, as it bothered Adah. River smiled a little, then spoke quietly:

"Far safer through an Abbey gallop,
The stones achase,
Than, moonless, one's own self encounter
In lonesome place."

Thankfully, Adah has a built-in task for this period. She's working on her Japanese language stuff, as usual.

Apparently, the library was closed during lunch for anyone but other aides and the library, but Adah has no idea, nor would she really even be able to tell most of the other aides from any other student. Tsom.

Adah took a moment looking at the Stack of Betrayal before deciding to just lean over to pull out the book of poetry that the Eel had lent to her for another backwards read.

No more books; she's writing things. In French. Backwards. That aren't cognizant thoughts, just a random collection of words put into no logical order in a heap at the center of her paper.

After his first period class, Lee had gone back to his room and taken something of a nap. It was mostly just tossing and turning but he'd eventually fallen asleep until later in the afternoon.

And so he's back in the library, still suffering the effects of bed head but both wanting to check on something (or someone) and return a few of the books he'd been borrowing.

He offered a small smile and said, "Hey. Got some books to return, I think. So they don't start gathering dust in my room."

One moment...Adah, the nub of her pen practically digging through to the next page of paper, still had more words to add to the blackened center that was beginning to smudge against the side of her left hand. Reilbou tôtneib tiod tnessail iuq ec tuot, lielos ud rehcuoc, lielos ed revel el.

She underlined revel. Several times, and then watching her hand carefully as she laid her pen down flat over the conglomeration of words, she looked up and gave the Eel a smile back, a bright one, and then looked at him expectantly before dropping her eyes to the books he carried. She looked for signs of dust; she was going to be disappointed if she actually found some.

"There's no actual dust," he said and laughed before placing the books on the desk. "They haven't been there that long. Just a figure of speech."

He shrugged a shoulder. "No dust, I promise."

After fighting a little bit with the urge to smile, Adah looked up at the Eel with a very serious expression that he'd better be being truthful. After all, there were far too many ways to read a book for them to be left dormant for too long. It was a philosophy that she lived by, one among many, many among one, very seriously. She snaked her hand around to the end of the books closest to the Eel, curving it around to pull them in, taking idle note of the titles so that she could add them to the stack later according to some equation. She shoved them aside and pulled her notebook into its place. She flipped from the French formation to a new page, still marred by the previous page's activity, and took up her pen again. Each little movement precise, as if each little movement was important.

"Hi."

"Hi," he said back, fidgeting with his hands a little before finally crossing his arms to keep them still. "How are you? Doing okay?"

Arching a brow and lifting her chin slightly, it was impossible for Adah to not pay attention to that fidgeting, impossible to try to hold back a slight grin at the REM embers that told her to take the initiative and stop it herself before the Eel took matters into his own hands. Perhaps that was a purpose of remembering those dreams; maybe some dormant part of her half brain was trying to embolden her toward unspoken initiatives she didn't know she was supposed to take.

But enough about the Eel's hands; Dog only knew she spent enough time fixating on them, anyway. She wrote out a response.

"Should I have reason to not be okay?"

"No," he said and shook his head. And, well, he couldn't stop the fidgeting all the way because he found one finger tapping against his bicep. "No, I was just asking. Checking. Because of this weekend and all."

Adah found her eyes fixating on that tapping finger. Tap, tap, tap. Pat, pat, pat. Was it a pat I saw? She tried calculating if there was a rhythm, and how many seconds between each tap there were, as if it were really some sort of secret subconscious morse code that she'd need to remember later.

She very reluctantly dragged her eyes away to write again.

"Why? What happened this weekend?"

Huh. He wasn't--

Frak, this place was weird.

--sure if that was a side effect of the memory loss or something else. And he couldn't exactly suppress the frown entirely at her words.

"What do you remember about last weekend?" he finally asked carefully.

First Period -- 10/02

Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Re: Second Period -- 10/02

Third Period -- 10/02

Lunch -- 10/02

Fourth Period -- 10/02

Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

Re: Fifth Period -- 10/02

OOC -- 10/02