Esme was sitting on the roof of the library, legs dangling over the side so her presence was very obvious, reading. She'd been there for almost twenty-four hours now, and if not for the fact that she reached out occasionally to turn a page she would have looked like some strange literary gargoyle.
Her mind was in a different place. The problem
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"It's alright. Not an award winner, but it's above burning for fuel."
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He observed this, before quickly extending his hand to her, "Simon Alexander. The thirteenth, for those with any interest in counting. And you, madam?"
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"Esme." The first and only. "You've been here since everyone else arrived?" More of a confirmation than a question; she'd seen him around.
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But he figured wandering into the library and poking at what was left of the books would probably be safe, particularly if he did it early in the morning, when the sun was just starting to rise. Of course, when deciding if it was safe, he hadn't exactly figured in the possibility of books falling out of the sky - or off the roof, near enough - and clobbering him in the head just as he tried to walk into the library.
He let out a completely undignified yelp, and - was that a voice, just then? That was a voice, though he hadn't quite registered that said voice was apologizing. Was someone throwing books at him ( ... )
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"I did say I was sorry," she said, a little confrontationally despite being thoroughly in the wrong.
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"What're you doing up there anyway?" As if he's never hung around in odd places just because he could...
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"I don't sleep, so." She gave a little shrug. "That's about thirty per cent of the average person's time I need to be doing something else with."
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Though, she manages to avoid getting hit with anything, she is staring upwards at the one who dropped it.
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"'Afternoon."
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On the other hand, everyone she has met here thus far has been a captive, and as there is no cause for rudeness, Morgana chooses manners instead.
"Good afternoon." She picks up the book. "I believe you dropped this."
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She's silent briefly.
"It was an accident, by the by. I'm not just heaving books at people for giggles."
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"Is this yours?" she called out.
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"Yes, it is." Technically, of course, it was the library's but that would be splitting hairs. "Thank you."
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"It was - dull. What's your name?"
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