[ota]

Oct 10, 2010 20:21

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 ( Read more... )

aisling, the tenth doctor, morgana, simon alexander, esme

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Comments 67

knownoguilt October 10 2010, 19:48:57 UTC
Simon had been having his own little love affair with the Library, since he'd arrived. It was...admittedly, something of an an emotionally abusive love affair, as he was perhaps a little less accepting of books that refused to relinquish their endings to him, but none the less, the library had been the one bastion standing between his short attention span and some really truly terrible ideas that had crossed his mind over the past few weeks ( ... )

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only_a_doll October 10 2010, 19:58:08 UTC
"'Morning." At home, Esme had found that the only person left who called her 'madam' was the doorman in her apartment building, and she suspected that was because she'd never supplied him with a surname. Still, judging by his clothes this was a cultural thing and not just flat-out sarcasm. She shuffled off the edge of the roof and dropped, landing on her feet next to him.

"It's alright. Not an award winner, but it's above burning for fuel."

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knownoguilt October 10 2010, 20:19:34 UTC
Simon took a half a step back, as she dropped down to his side, still regarding her with fascination. He gave a slightly giddy laugh, as she spoke to him again, his interest in the book almost entirely forgotten, "I must say, you certainly have some presence of mind with regard to heights."

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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only_a_doll October 10 2010, 20:40:32 UTC
Esme had a deeply ingrained dislike of anyone with any interest in counting but she took his hand and shook it anyway. Her hands felt like hands - the illusion of skin over muscle and bone - but it was cold. Room temperature, really, and it wasn't a warm day.

"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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thatsortofaman October 13 2010, 00:11:05 UTC
Since he returned from his most recent trip into the woods, the Doctor had been... well, avoiding people as much as he could help it. Mostly Neal and Murphy... and Sokka... and Neal's annoying friend, albeit for different reasons... but nearly any time anyone paid too much attention to him, the Doctor found a reason to disappear very quickly after that.

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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only_a_doll October 13 2010, 00:28:48 UTC
Esme leaned over the edge of the building a moment later, large milky-green eyes blinking down at the splindly-looking guy below her who was putting a hand to his head. Oops. Maybe she needed to stop reading hardbacks at this altitude.

"I did say I was sorry," she said, a little confrontationally despite being thoroughly in the wrong.

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thatsortofaman October 14 2010, 23:37:12 UTC
The Doctor squints up at her, and even in the grey dawn light, he recognizes her - after all, she's one of the few people here who doesn't at least look completely human. That recognition does not make him feel any more charitable toward her at this particular moment, but from what he remembers of her, it does seem unlikely she's throwing books at people on purpose. Even so...

"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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only_a_doll October 15 2010, 10:16:34 UTC
"Reading." There's s mild undertone there of 'what else would I be doing on top of a library with a book' but since she might have concussed him, she's making a real effort to be polite and doesn't actually say that.

"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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magicalskeptic October 13 2010, 02:45:52 UTC
Morgana is not entirely sure what she should find more surprising, the reader, or the treatment of the tomes.

Though, she manages to avoid getting hit with anything, she is staring upwards at the one who dropped it.

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only_a_doll October 13 2010, 12:18:31 UTC
Esme waves down at her and smiles blandly. Her apologies are only forthcoming when they have to be and she figures that if this woman isn't making a song and dance about being concussed with a book then she doesn't have to say anything more on the subject.

"'Afternoon."

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magicalskeptic October 14 2010, 01:38:43 UTC
Having never seen anything like the creature (person, woman, Morgana is uncertain how to classify them) without an immediate reaction from armed knights, she is uncertain on the protocol. Just because she often rails against her king's policies about

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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only_a_doll October 14 2010, 11:43:37 UTC
"I did. Thanks." She drops down from the roof, giving the stranger a brief once-over - she looks like someone who does a lot of renaissance fairs and invested in their costume, more than someone who might have actually appeared from the Dark Ages. But Esme looks like she needs to be baked, painted and glazed so she can hardly judge.

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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wolf_faerie October 13 2010, 12:43:49 UTC
Aisling had been in the oak tree next to the library when she saw the book fall. She jumped out of the tree and picked it up, then looked up to see who had dropped it.

"Is this yours?" she called out.

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only_a_doll October 13 2010, 14:39:36 UTC
Esme jumped down from the roof, not really bracing in any measurable way when her feet hit the ground.

"Yes, it is." Technically, of course, it was the library's but that would be splitting hairs. "Thank you."

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wolf_faerie October 13 2010, 17:47:22 UTC
"It's no trouble." She examined the book before handing it back. "What's that book about?"

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only_a_doll October 14 2010, 11:38:49 UTC
"Nineteenth-century social politics." Which wasn't helpful, covering Dickens to Austen and everything in between, but she didn't feel like giving an entire synopsis for the sake of idle chitchat. She was more interested in Aisling, anyway; she looked like a little (Irish?) kid but to Esme's somewhat magic-aware senses she gave off 'not human' to a noticeable extent. She tucked the book under her arm.

"It was - dull. What's your name?"

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