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 Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2011 8:09 pm
Champagne eyes scanned the ancient runes book held before them by strong, elegant hands. Runes were not a specialty of his, but knowledge was a valuable thing to acquire. As his flaxen bangs fell forward into his eyes yet again, the witchling gently closed the book on runes and then violently blew his bangs away from his face---watching, exasperated, as they landed in the same spot he had been trying to remove them from. Today was just not his day.
And he was not hiding.
He was NOT hiding!
Azra'iel sighed, quietly, to himself: even though there was no one about to hear. A Grave of Fairies trial had been announced and it seemed he was one of the only witchlings who qualified for the trial that was not anxious to see it through. In fact, he had not bothered to practice any spells and did not plan on leaving Makai to go to the trial grounds. He was not hiding, he was not scared, he was not worried; he was simply not ready to leave Makai. He definitely did not find any interest in staying to teach; but he was not done studying.
Okay, so maybe he was hiding a bit.
But the huge library was such a wonderful place to disappear into! He had almost gone to Lumena to go to the bigger library there, but after the Hallows Eve Ball... well, he had no plans to return to Lumena just yet. So here he was, deeper into the Makai stacks than he had ever been. There were not restricted sections, per se; but there were areas where it always seemed one would be somehow distracted before entering. But since most of the school was at the trial grounds, Azra'iel was taking advantage and looking around without the usual library staff about to play guard dog.
He certainly would never try and of these arcane spells and incantations, not until after he spent more time with Headmistress Miusa and passed his trials.
...though they were rather tempting.
There was one book, in a far corner shelf, that just called to him. It almost appeared to have an aura of light around it when in his peripheral vision. He had not dared touch it yet, but he knew he would have to look right before he left... or after he finished scanning the one he was holding... or maybe right now...
Before he knew it, Azra'iel was standing in front of the siren book, watching his hand hover over the binding without any memory of walking to the book or commanding his hand to reach for it.
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2011 9:02 pm
 The library always felt a degree or two chillier than Niamh expected. This time, however, she had prepared well: a large, fluffy, cream-coloured corded sweater and thick grey leggings kept her warm, while her uniform skirt peeked out underneath the bottom of the sweater, and she clearly wore the shoes of a Witchling. She was helping herself to whatever books she so desired in the rare books section of the library. The forbidden ones, the strange ones, the elaborate ones. These were the only ones she was interested in. The library seemed to own the only copies of a few important texts, ones which she would merely purchase if she was able to even locate a copy for sale.
It was some kind of exhalation which made Niamh notice that someone was in the same section, but not looking at the same books. A short sound, and not catastrophically loud, she wasn't able to pinpoint the exact direction. And it was books, not students, she was interested in. So for a moment, she went on ignoring it. However, then there was a sigh. She arched one silvery brow, and set aside a stack of books on demonology and chanelling spiritual residue which she was particularly interested in.
Niamh had her sights on much larger objectives, and she had always been that way. The things she wanted to learn were not what she was being taught. She was learning cute spells, like how to cast minor healing-enhancement, or how to transform a spider into an ant for a couple seconds. Uninteresting. How to grow a climbing plant, how to see your future face in a mirror; also largely uninteresting, parlour tricks. There were more advanced classes, of course. Niamh was not universally good. In fact, she was usually so disinterested in what they were learning that her educators had decided she was a lost cause.
In her own time, Niamh studied, practiced, experimented and robbed graves. That was Niamh Dubh Von Rohr in a nutshell. If you extracted her defensiveness over her own brother, and her love of rare books, in any case. Niamh did not find herself worrying. The only strong emotion she seemed to feel on a regular basis was irritation, though when she had sugar she was able to more easily break her polished facade; it wasn't that she was truly so emotionless, but rather that she had been told countless times that she had no business behaving like a child. Even if, essentially, she was one. A teen now, a young adult, but because her childhood had been suffocated, sometimes cute elements like her big warm sweater snuck through. On occassion, she had even been known to giggle.
Niamh did not need to be at the trial grounds. She had already been practicing the spells in the rare books, without supervision. She was careful, meticulous even, and her focus was so exact that once she had tried the basics and moved on, many spells had a similar foundation.
Finally, Niamh managed to spot the witchling who was undoubtedly making those sighing, huffing sounds. Well, once each, respectively. But Niamh had now thought of him as the sigh-and-huff witchling. She approached him quietly, pushing her pale curls over her shoulder, and read the title of the book he seemed to be interested in. "Thinking of trying that out?" she asked, genuinely curious.
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Posted: Sun Jan 01, 2012 7:58 pm
A soft voice shattered the haze of silence and the spell of the book, causing Azra'iel to jump and turn quickly, rapping his elbow on the bookshelf behind him and showering him with dust. Rubbing his elbow with a wince, he dismissed the oddly overwhelming sense of disappointment he felt and found his eyes dropping to meet those of the girl who had spoken. Even bundled in her bulky sweater, he could see that she was beautifully delicate and pale and, judging by her hair clips, had an affinity for bones.
Just like Ruria...
...he appeared to have a skill at finding odd women.
Azra'iel raked his hand quickly through his hair to loosen the dust and get it out of his eyes. The other witchling's rather direct gaze caused him to rub nervously at the back of his neck as he offered her a sheepish smile. "I am certainly thinking about it, especially since the librarians are not here to glare me away!" Reaching out and sliding the book in question off the shelf, Azra'iel added it to the small stack he was carrying to take back to his room. As soon as he had, he felt an odd sense of satisfaction. It was similar to the previous wave of disappointment; a wave of emotion that he understood but experienced as though it was outside of himself. How strange.
Realizing the other witchling was still standing there, Azra'iel focused back on her. "I apologize if I am in your way, this is the only book I need here." Forgetting how close he was to the bookshelf, he stepped back to move away...only to have his elbow once again come in contact with the bookshelf. Rolling his eyes as a slight hiss of pain escaped him, Azra'iel wondered how he was at all capable with a sword. Put him in close proximity to just about any female and he became the world's largest clutz for no apparent reason.
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