Books Tell Secrets [ Andrew ]

[Lilianne]

Upon a round table in a corner behind the mythology section, stood 6 clumsily stacked piles of books. They were all situated around the edges of the table in order to give the girl hiding behind them ample room to read and copy bits of information into what had transformed from a journal to an encyclopedia.
Initially, she had intentions of replacing each book as she went along- the plan was executed perfectly until she found herself toting more than one collection of bound pages back to the table. Even then, she began referencing back to books she had already read through, and so the pillars of knowledge grew steadily until she was certain that she could return at least 2 back to their homes.

Legs covered in black skinny jeans crossed at the ankles under her unstable chair, one flat covered foot tapping idly against the carpet that smelled as musty as the stacks. Her coat had been neglectfully tucked under the ‘read’ pile and pencil smudges lined the creases of her left hand and somehow, found their way onto the sage green v-neck cotton shirt she had stolen from her brother. It was only a matter of time until her habit of rubbing her shoulders transferred the smudges there as well, but she lacked the frame of mind to pay it much attention. The myths and legends of her childhood were not only proving themselves very vague, but mostly incorrect if publications were believed to be true. The girl knew that the written word was meant to convince and inform only as the author intended, but it was the collection of grand visions that varied so greatly that had her convinced of perspective’s absolute importance. It occurred to her that her history lessons hadn’t come from the descendants of the victor.

Once she had dissected the sigil she had been working on and copied it into her book, the girl stood for the first time in hours and gathered books that would no longer be useful to her studies. This set included collections from the sciences as well as history. The books of myth, lore, and other such tales that seemed more real than they were fantasy stayed. Lilianne had very many questions for those pages.

[Andrew Belanger (DELETED 5843)]

The fledgling male had taken to wandering most nights, after he'd fed and done whatever training he could manage, when the rest of the darker hours were his for the taking. He'd never been one to do much more than visit his usual old haunts, follow old habits, work... the mundane, typical boring life of a 20-something year old college dropout with little direction. But something about this new existence had quickened his now non-existent pulse, inspired him to do more... know more... make his Sire proud of the choice he - or the snake - had made, in choosing him. Andrew wasn't sure just which of them it had been (perhaps both), but despite a constant sense of confusion and wonder, mixed in with a growing adoration of the man who had made him, he was grateful.

Still, little had changed, not in the ways Azraeth had suggested they would. Not yet. He felt like the same old Andrew - still terrified by death (though with the actuality of it so far away now, it seemed like less of a threat), still longing for something he couldn't quite place his finger upon. Maybe if and when he was truly challenged, those changes might show themselves more clearly but, for the time being, aside from an increased desire to push his boundaries and experiment with anything presented to him, they seemed only physical in nature. Sure, he had some increased mental abilities, an extra edge to his memory and attention and even his capacity for intelligent reasoning and acuity. But he still felt like Andrew. Or Andreas, as Azraeth had taken to calling him. Maybe it would feel a more fitting name once something else seemed to change and fulfill the more mystical sense of that new name.

Andrew didn't really know. But, one thing that had grasped his attention, had inspired in him a way to tantalize that increase in intelligence and thirst for knowledge, was a desire to re-read every single book he'd ever gotten his hands on. The library called to him, demanding he try out the vague theory that the written word would somehow be different, be more than it had been before. The thought taunted him, tugged at the edges of his mind, before he finally gave in. That very night.

And that was how he found himself at the library in Honeymead, browsing through the stacks in search of as many books as he could recall. He was thumbing through just one such text as he walked, in search of a table.

And as he finally found an empty seat, he looked up to ensure he sat himself down without doing anything distracted and clumsy - that predatory grace possessed by his Sire seemed to be lacking within him still - and found his blue gaze lighting upon the copper-haired beauty just across from him. She seemed enthralled by whatever it was she was reading until, abruptly, she rose to her feet. Not wanting to be caught staring, he let his gaze fall back onto the book in his hands, a small smile playing upon his lips.

[Lilianne]

Sixteen titles that had proven themselves useful, if mediocre in substance, had been returned to the precise and noted places that the girl had taken them from. As a well-read individual, she found herself surprised that works of study so heavy that they would provide a burden on mortal muscles could leave so much room for question, but she was seduced by it all as well. It was a lovely thing to be left amongst mountains of information when she had so many questions.

Once she returned and sorted the remaining books out in order of what would be relevant, she took her seat and opened the journal, only her gaze was fixed on the new body in what was previously unoccupied space. The girl had been far too distracted to realize that he had sat down before she walked away, so she wasn’t sure when it was that he and his books had stumbled near her mess of a research project. She had no qualms about staring and new presences, especially when they were interesting in appearance, drew out her curiosity.
After a few moments of taking in what she could see of his tattoo collection, her attention returned to the task at hand. The night was still young, but her task list was long and had become increasingly onerous- distractions would not suit. Celtic lore was the first under scrutiny. A great deal of the information she sought would not be found in those books, but she already had a book of questions for Habren… why not add a few more?

[Andrew Belanger (DELETED 5843)]

After the girl had wandered away with a large stack of texts - a stack he noticed, with a slightly raised brow, she carried with surprising ease - Andrew had allowed himself to become absorbed in the first of several books he'd selected. Slaughterhouse Five, an old favorite, did seem, well, different now, as suspected. He found his mind could follow the disjointed timeline a good deal closer than before, and then there was the speed with which he consumed the written word. That his perspective had shifted a bit was also to be considered, and a large part of the experiment he had in mind. An idle hand rubbed at the back of his neck as page after page was flipped with ease and he followed the story of Billy Pilgrim like never before. Colors, shapes, scenes - everything was painted in brilliant colors as the story almost came to life before his very mind's eye...

...And then, all at once, he felt eyes upon him. It was unnerving enough to break his concentration and, when the feeling didn't let up, he finally pulled his attention away from his book.

Slowly, he looked up to try and meet the girl's pale-blue gaze just at the moment she looked away, returning her own attention to the open notebook and the few remaining texts she had with her. He smiled quietly to himself; he knew he struck an odd appearance at times with his piercings, the numerous tattoos that were less than covered today with his rolled-up sleeves, and his general style, but he'd been making an effort to lean more toward 'normal' clothing these nights and it wasn't like he was the only tattooed, pierced person in the City. Far from it. And piquing his curiosity of her staring even further was an almost eerie sensation - as if some extra little sense was whispering that she was like him - a vampire. Of course... he couldn't really know that, right? Either way, caution had to be exercised.

That smile stayed put as he quietly cleared his throat - she was giving off a 'too busy for anything' vibe but Andrew was never one to pay much attention to those things, especially when the solitary nature of being what he now was came into play and left him feeling, well... pretty much alone a good part of the time. He could be a loner, of sorts, but only in very specific circumstances. On the contrary, he'd generally had plenty of friends, a good relationship with his parents, and Beca. Now... it was pretty much just Az, when he was around, and Andrew already knew, on both a conscious and subconscious level, that he couldn't rely solely on his Sire to fulfill all of his social needs. No, that was on he himself, and if he didn't start figuring out how to make friends in this new life, the sudden solitude wasn't going to change.

"Ummm... hi," he said, keeping his voice low. They were in a library, after all, and that alone, thankfully, would make it more difficult to press his luck if she proved uninterested.

[Lilianne]

Typically, interruptions were unwelcome- they had been, for such a long time, frequent enough to disrupt her thought processes entirely. That alone had destroyed progress made on many projects, but after her turning, time seemed to unravel from that space of limitations. She found herself less concerned with deadlines and losing threads of thought because tomorrow and every tomorrow thereafter seemed infinite… not guaranteed, but also unthreatened by wrinkles and decay of the mind and body.
So even though she had, not moments before, given herself a mental scolding for getting so distracted by him, the girl relented. What was the real harm, anyway? Whether it began and ended with hello or it evolved into a series of conversations, the materials were portable and bonds, as she well knew, were invaluable.

Surprised by the welcoming grin that had turned her lips of its own volition, she hesitated, and in attempt to conceal the surprise, turned back to the cover of her journal before she lifted her gaze.
“Hello…”
Her fingers curled over the edges of her journal as she nudged the chair next to her out of place with her foot- an invitation, of sorts, to sit. Heightened volume wouldn’t do in a library (as evidenced by the scolding she heard another pair of talkers get not long before) and whispering across tables would be otherwise problematic even if he could hear as well as she. Her steel-cut gaze shifted from his face to his book for just a moment as curiosity swept her up again.
“What are you reading?”