[Closed/In-Progress]
Characters: Charles conquer_russia, Jay april_ravine
Date/Time: March 3, early evening
Location: Library
Rating: Hmm....Pg-13 to start with
Summary: Charles and Jay meet face to face for the first time
Because somehow that cruel harlot that was fate had seen fit to pair Charles up with a very...friendly roommate in the dorms, the library had become his sanctuary as of late. On the days when the guy was being particularly chatty--wanting to know about Charles' home life, his background, where he grew up, Oh, an army brat? Cool! So did that mean that Charles was all screwy in the head too?
Another American, he was alright when he was passed out drunk or sleeping but any other time and Charles was severely tempted to make him cry and piss his pants and run all the way back home to his Mummy in Iowa about the mean sick kid.
Instead, he actually listened to his mother’s old order to be considerate or he'd get his ass beat and retreated to territory that he was familiar with.
There wasn't a bad selection--They had Twilight of the Idols and Ecci Homo, which was more than could be said about most Western libraries, let alone ones so far away from that school of thought. He immediately put in a request for at least one copy of the rest of Freidrich's works to be given to the library though some book exchange program that he'd been too busy really to pay attention to when the librarian had explained it to him. He'd responded with a "Yeah, do that" and considered the matter closed.
He even had a favorite spot in the stacks. One where just enough light could shine in through the window so he could read until the lights came on at sundown and allow his eyes to shift naturally to the change. Where he couldn't hear the scraping of peoples chairs as they got fed up with scholarly rhetoric and decided that they'd much rather get drunk instead. One where he was close to all of his favorite authors--Kafka, Murakami, Jung--which he didn't have to walk very far or risk his things getting stolen if he lingered a bit choosing his next conquest.
Most of all it was probably the solitude. He could go a full twelve hours without seeing anyone but the janitor and the occasional librarian as they took turns checking to see whether he was still alive.
If he didn't have those irritating bodily functions and classes that interrupted his reading, he would probably live curled up on the floor in that spot for the rest of his life.
But alas...
Packing up his things when the words started to blur on the page and he realized that he'd been in the library nearly the entire weekend, he headed back to his dorm and tried to fool himself into thinking that he was optimistic enough to hope that his roommate would be in a vegetative coma.
Date/Time: March 3, early evening
Location: Library
Rating: Hmm....Pg-13 to start with
Summary: Charles and Jay meet face to face for the first time
Because somehow that cruel harlot that was fate had seen fit to pair Charles up with a very...friendly roommate in the dorms, the library had become his sanctuary as of late. On the days when the guy was being particularly chatty--wanting to know about Charles' home life, his background, where he grew up, Oh, an army brat? Cool! So did that mean that Charles was all screwy in the head too?
Another American, he was alright when he was passed out drunk or sleeping but any other time and Charles was severely tempted to make him cry and piss his pants and run all the way back home to his Mummy in Iowa about the mean sick kid.
Instead, he actually listened to his mother’s old order to be considerate or he'd get his ass beat and retreated to territory that he was familiar with.
There wasn't a bad selection--They had Twilight of the Idols and Ecci Homo, which was more than could be said about most Western libraries, let alone ones so far away from that school of thought. He immediately put in a request for at least one copy of the rest of Freidrich's works to be given to the library though some book exchange program that he'd been too busy really to pay attention to when the librarian had explained it to him. He'd responded with a "Yeah, do that" and considered the matter closed.
He even had a favorite spot in the stacks. One where just enough light could shine in through the window so he could read until the lights came on at sundown and allow his eyes to shift naturally to the change. Where he couldn't hear the scraping of peoples chairs as they got fed up with scholarly rhetoric and decided that they'd much rather get drunk instead. One where he was close to all of his favorite authors--Kafka, Murakami, Jung--which he didn't have to walk very far or risk his things getting stolen if he lingered a bit choosing his next conquest.
Most of all it was probably the solitude. He could go a full twelve hours without seeing anyone but the janitor and the occasional librarian as they took turns checking to see whether he was still alive.
If he didn't have those irritating bodily functions and classes that interrupted his reading, he would probably live curled up on the floor in that spot for the rest of his life.
But alas...
Packing up his things when the words started to blur on the page and he realized that he'd been in the library nearly the entire weekend, he headed back to his dorm and tried to fool himself into thinking that he was optimistic enough to hope that his roommate would be in a vegetative coma.