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On a whim, Horace had decided to take a self-guided tour of Rider-Waite. He'd been there before, after all... once or twice, and he was thinking of attending. A college degree would certainly help him to feel like more of an asset at his job rather than a pity case. He grimaced. Horace had his GED now, but nothing further - it had been deemed unnecessary. Regardless of his reasons for visiting Rider-Waite now, it was becoming more and more plain that Horace was hopelessly lost. He'd been up three flights of stairs and down two others, openes more empty classrooms than he could count, and managed to accidentally break the lock on one door while trying to open it. He'd left that door alone, hoping no one would notice for a while. Sucking in a breath, he opened the next door.

Brooms and a vacuum cleaner greeted his eyes. A rack with cleaner, some rags, a mop bucket... Horace's great location skills had located him a janitor's closet. Another one.

Exhaling his pent-up breath noisily, Horace closed the door with a loud thunk. He tried to remember the ways he'd turned coming here and came up blank. This is what he got for not looking at a school map - if he'd just looked, memorized, he wouldn't be in this situation. He let his head fall forward, thumping against the door. There was, of course, the temptation to just beat his head on the door a bit but he refrained. It wouldn't do to bleed all over school property.

He was just going to stay here for a bit. Y'know, until he remembered where to go... or went to go ask someone.

Horace was startled by the sudden voice nearby. He tensed completely, an involuntary reaction, and turned around quickly. Someone had clearly seen him and his lost state. At least it wasn't a professor. The other man seemed to be a student: backpack, leggy, though a bit shorter than Horace.

"You mean banging my head on the door isn't how I get it to open?" He waved his hand, resisting the urge to pull on the hem of his orange tank top or tug on his belt loops. "You caught me: I was looking for a tour and... got... lost. You go here?"

"I don't think doors are prone to the pity party tactic, sadly." Horace had relaxed even more in the brief time they'd been talking. Jordan was just kind of... oddly soothing.

He shrugged. "Nothing specific and, sorry, I meant a self-guided tour. Which....ended up with me in the closet." Horace clicked his tongue piercing against his teeth. "There anywhere cool on the campus I should be going?"

"Nah, haven't seen either. I got lost pretty quick." He shrugged at the major question. It was something he should seriously consider, but he wasn't really particularly skilled at any one thing. If Horace got hold of a map, he could remember it easily. And he could memorize stuff... that was it.

He shrugged again. "Maybe business administration. I work at a funeral home now, but maybe it would help them out?" Horace paused, then grinned at Jordan. "I'd appreciate you showing me around though. I'm Horace. What're you in for?"

"Library science would probably be cool, too, but I heard the job market is awful." He shrugged. "Psychology seems useful. Are you a freshman? And I mean, if you're free... a tour would be great." Jordan's teasing was met with a good-natured grimace.

"Janitorial closets are the Most Important, clearly. Take the lead, Mr. Saves-From-Closets."

At least he'd met a nice guy, Horace thought. He began to follow Jordan before pausing. "You know, as much as I'd love to go off down long corridors with strange men, do you think I could get the name of my knight in shining armor?" Horace's tone was teasing, but he also wasn't going anywhere without introductions.

The smile on his face fell a little at Jordan's outstretched hand. Horace inhaled sharply though his nostrils, reached his hand out and shook Jordan's. It was probably simultaneously the most limp and shortest handshake ever. Just enough for pleasantries, maybe. He then immediately stuck his hand into his pocket, curling it into a fist. Horace didn't like touching people, but he could do it if he needed to. It wasn't fun, and he never wanted to examine exactly why. The black thoughts swimming up out of him just needed to be squashed back down again and again.

"Anyway, Jordan, nice name. Wonder what it means - maybe saves-from-closets?" His smile broadened once again at his own stupid quip. "Someone told me there's a ghost that haunts the top level of the library, something Lovecraftian - you seen it yet?" A complete lie, but it gave him something to talk about.

"Head must be too full of book-learning." He wrinkled his nose at Jordan. "I'm Horace, said earlier, but my manly, mysterious charms must have distracted you. It's okay, I understand." He grinned, but immediately regretted the quip, feeling a twinge of... guilt? Whatever it was, he quashed it down forecefully. Horace didn't need any more of that sneaking it's way back into his life.

His hand uncurled in his pocket. "Weird books - have you found anything good? Or like... please tell me someone's done an overnight ghost hunt at the library." Because that would be absolutely the coolest thing ever, even if nothing happened.