2/16/2006

09:07 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (75% full).
It is currently 20:59 Pacific Time on Thu Feb 16 2006.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 36 degrees Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the northeast at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.22 and rising, and the relative humidity is 40 percent. The dewpoint is 14 degrees Fahrenheit (-10 degrees Celsius.)

SCCU: Library(#3990RJ$)
Although it's a time-honored tradition for students to despair at the university library's lack of material, the facility does see a lot of use. Much of the second floor is taken up with comfortable chairs and smaller study rooms, and presents a quieter environment then the first, which houses the antique microfilm reserves and dozens of scattered terminals to access the buggy catalog.
A bulletin board on one wall offers a confused jumble of student organization ads, most of them hastily xeroxed, although a more carefully printed 'flyer' or two can be found.
Contents:
Cristofer
Obvious exits:
Student Union  Dormitory  Campustown  

It's starting to get late, and with the sun long set, students have either chosen to hole up in the library for some hardcore studying and paper writing, or they've gone home. The computer labs are emptying out, closing within the hour. Up in the second floor, a small group of chairs remains empty in a circular ring around the Shadow Lord. Kenneth reclines in one of them, hand holding a small black book with gold lettering on its binding, eyes scanning the lines.

Cristofer enters the library, wrinkling his nose with some disdain at the overall lack of resources. He pauses for a moment to speak politely with one of the librarians, and heads for the library's meager archives.

Cristofer ascent up the stairs, is given pause briefly by a group of students descending heading for the exits, some of them murmur about his unusual hair color, one gives pause for a moment, but then hastily chases after their friends, swearing that he's seen the gentleman before but simply is unable to put his finger on where. As Cristofor makes his way up to the second floor he pauses for a brief moment to clean his glasses and then peers into the room.

Kenneth continues his casual flipping through 'A History of Civilization', and finally grows distracted and disgusted by the sheer boredom that overtakes him with this miniature tome. Shutting it with a dull thud of its dusty cover, he tosses it haphazardly aside onto the table his feet are on. Only his raquet bag is beside him in front of the chair, and he leans his head back.

[look Cristofer]
Cristofor Dragomir, or more simply addressed Chris Mir is someone who does his best not to stand out in a crowd, but sometimes simply can't help it. In his late twenties he stands slightly below six feet tall with a thin figure, with a preference to dress formal. He charismatic smile and is good looking to some degree with slender somewhat effeminate features to his face, and often wears a pair of narrow framed glasses to help with his nearsightedness. The most striking part of his appearance is his hair, often neatly trimmed a striking handful at the front is silvery gray, while the rest remains black.

Cristofer runs his fingers through his silvery hair, and sighs a bit looking to the several remaining flights of stairs before him.

Kenneth occupies a decent ring of the so-called 'comfy' chairs on the second floor. A miniature mountain of books of all cover colors, shapes and sizes lie spread out on the table he's propped his feet on, but now he's not reading anything. With his head leaned back and staring at the ceiling, the youth doesn't bother with looking anywhere else. Only when Cristofer draws near, does he give the man a casual, out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye glance.

Cristofer with a great deal of resolve continues his ascent, heading to the archives. Finally arriving at the floor in question, without even a moment of hesitation he enters the room, and glances around briefly for any members of the staff on hand. He then slowly walks over with purpose and addresses the staff member in hushed tones, who then directs him to several stacks of microfilms.

Ellie is heading over in Kenneth's direction. Well, really, to the chairs. She's carrying four books in her arms and looks like she's having a hard time of it, but manages to set them down on a table before flopping down in one of the chairs. She lets out a heavy sigh, reaching over to grab one of her books--a novel in French--and open it. "This is crap," she mumbles to herself, eyes seeing the words but brain not registering anything.

[look Ellie]
Eilidh is a young woman who looks to be in her late teens, maybe early twenties, but no younger than 21. She's somewhere around five feet, four inches, with long legs. She's fit enough, but not all that thin; there's meat on her bones. She's an attractive enough girl, with a slightly rounded face. She has long, dark brown hair that's highlighted with some sort of dark blonde color; it's usually pulled back into a messy pony-tail or bun, as if she just doesn't care to deal with it. She has bangs that cover most of the right side of her forehead, though they're usually pinned back out of her face and eyes. Her eyes are hazel, somewhere between brown and a gray-ish green depending on the light. Nothing about her face is particularly noticeable. Usually she sports a dark navy hoodie sweater with 'THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH' in white along with the university's crest and a pair of worn-down light denim jeans. She'll sometimes wear jewelry; usually some pewter or sterling silver stuff, like dangly earrings. Her fingernails look victim to constant attacks of picking.

Kenneth narrows his eyes as Cristofer passes by, giving the man a double take. Then he looks more intensely upon Ellie as she nears. At first, he stubbornly keeps his feet on the table and looks like he's going to bristle, but the Shadow Lord gamely restrains himself and slips his feet off, accidentally scraping his sole rather loudly on the edge. Loudly, at least, for a 9 PM crowd.

Cristofer sits down and begins to go through several reels of microfilm, picking up on key names and events and countless newspaper clipings race by, occasionally pausing to write notes in a black leather bound book he brought with him. He pauses every so often to rub to rub his eyes from staring at the small black and white text, but continues to pour through several films with a fervor.

Ellie's eyes lift from the French words to the table at the noise of Kenneth's shoe. She ignores Kenneth. Her focus is on the other books. Whereas her pile is stacked neatly, she hadn't noticed that he had just sort of thrown his around on the table like they were child's toys. "Ye should put 'em away if you're not gonna read 'em," she says, her accent a dead giveaway that she sure as hell isn't from around here. "Books aren't meant t'be treated like tha'." Her jaw clenches for a moment and for a second it looks like she is going to reach out and arrange Kenneth's mess of books. She refrains herself.

Kenneth looks squarely on Ellie, her accent eliciting a second look from him like it might for anyone out on the street. "That's what the library help's for," he replies stiffly, bending down to move his racquet bag more to his left side. Beside his chair on the other side happens to be a good number of books actually stacked. From this, he takes one off the top, and cracks it open to peruse casually.

Cristofer continues to go through several rolls of micro flim, giving pause at one in particular. After reading it over several times, he makes a gesture for a member of the staff to come over and again in hushed tones questions them. Nodding politely, he slowly stands and heads out of the archives after retrieving his note book making his way down the stairs. He takes pause at the third floor for a moment to readjust his glasses, but soon descends once more arriving upon the second. He then strides in quietly with a purpose immediately heading for the stacks.

"Maybe," says Ellie, not sounding entirely convinced. She gives Kenneth a little scowl before looking back to the French novel she picked up. She puts her book back and goes about fixing up the pile of books Kenneth brought that are strewn on the table. Soon enough they're piled neatly enough with plenty of room. "Now ye can put you're foot up there," she says. "Though I dinnae ken the library folk will like tha' much."

Kenneth looks over the top of his book and watches the books get arranged. Perhaps a good thing his foot is off the table, as the staff that tended to Cristofer now comes down to the second floor, on their way down to the bottom. He waits until the staff is gone, before doing just what Ellie suggests. Propping his feet up, coming dangerously close to knocking the just stacked books over again. Once more, Cristofer is observed as the man comes close, but the philodox doesn't get up. Ellie winds up rather purposefully ignored.

Cristofer's fingers traces along the spines of several volumes on the shelves, till he finds what he is looking for and pulls a book free from the shelf. He hastily begins to thumb through the volume, till he gets to his goal, pressing his finger roughly agains't the paper he begins to follow a line along the page, muttering somewhat to himself as he places the book precariously back on the shelf and then refers to his own notebook, obviously comparing something.

Ellie brushes her bangs out of her face. She takes another of her books--this time about Shakespeare--and she looks decidedly more pleased about the contents. There's even a small dorky smile on her lips as she opens it to one of the Bard's more amusing plays and gets set reading. Occasionally she glances over towards the windows out to the darkened sky. She sighs wistfully and looks back to Kenneth. "Readin' what?" she asks, suddenly interested. Or bored. Probably the latter.

There's that annoyed crease in his brow again. Kenneth scans around on the page, and flips through it a bit more before turning the binding so he can see what the heck he's reading for himself. "Nothin' of interest," he replies, tossing the book, 'Celtic Folk Tales' onto the table. "S'all yours."

Cristofer closes his notebook, after making several additional notes, and begins to walk down several of the other stacks, eventually finding a book of interest among them. Picking it up, he smirks a little and retrieves a pen out of his pocket. He then scrawls something on the inside cover before placing it back on the shelf, and retrieving another book, flipping though it half-heartedly as he looks for somewhere to sit, and finds a comfortable chair now vacated as many have departed the library at this late of time in the evening.

Her hopes of finally making a friend here are dashed. Ellie frowns at Kenneth. She glances at the book he tossed on the table. "Guess ye don't like books," she says with mild disdain. The young woman looks rather irritated, eyebrows drawn down a bit, eyes slightly narrowed.

"No," Kenneth answers in low toned reply, "I have nothin' against books. I just have other things to worry about. Bigger things, that don't concern the words of some dead guy BSin' about what he thinks some more dead guys thought thousands of years ago." He snatches up the next book, takes one look at its cover, and tosses it on the table without even taking a peek inside.

Cristofer looks up from behind his book, but says nothing since it's not his place to get involved in something that has nothing to do with him.

Ellie's previous expression is gone. She snickers, apparently finding Kenneth's analysis of 'Celtic Folk Tales' rather funny. "Aye, guess so," she concedes. "Dead people haverin' about dead people isn't so excitin'...but it is interestin'. Sometimes. If they're good writers."

That smile throws him off. Kenneth doesn't echo the expression, narrowing his eyes instead. "Yeah..." he starts to say, this time with a slow suspicion rising. Given that Cristofer is the only other person left on the floor, the Shadow Lord glances at him, to see if the man is looking the pair's way.

At Kenneth's reaction, Ellie decides the best thing to do would go back to her book. She eyes it a little while, at least reads some, before putting it back in her neat pile. She stands, scrutinizing her books before deciding Kenneth was right. She could just leave them there for the library help to clean up. "Em. Bye," she says awkwardly to the other teenager before turning away to head off.

Cristofer doesn't appear to be paying any direct attention to the pair anymore since the first outburst he noticed, he does retrieve a golden pocket watch from his pocket and checks the time as he resumes perusing the book open in his lap.

Kenneth doesn't pick up any other book from his stacked pile beside his chair, simply continuing to eye the young woman with a certain suspicion. Once she's stood up and said her farewells, though, he tips his chin up and back down in that sort of 'see ya' inverted nod. Once again, he takes his feet off the table, this time without making much noise.

Cristofer slowly rises from his chair and stretches a little before heading for the exit.

Cristofer heads out to the front steps of the library, where he waits patiently for several minutes.

Kenneth doesn't seem inclined to follow the last two occupants of the second floor out. It's just when the library announces over its small intercom that it will be closing in a few minutes, that the Shadow Lord finally gathers up his things, and heads out as well.

Cristofer waiting proves fruitful, as a black sedan eventually rolls up, the driver gets out and opens the passenger side rear door. The kinfolk enters the sedan, and the driver closes the door and heads back to the front of the vehicle.

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