in which notes are found in dusty old libraries [ active | open ]

[crownotcrane]

Who: Jonathan and anyone else who decides to pop in
Where: Library
When: Day 1, after noon
What: Poking around in the library, as you do. Eventually finding some sort of note.
Warnings: None...? Possible atmospheric weirdness but this is a possibly-haunted house, so.

Comments

[sparkys_fire]

It was a little bit after the man had walked past her and Tim. The decision to go talk to people and meet shortly in the parlor had been made, and she had volunteered to poke around for people on this end of the house while Tim hit the other side.

She pushed the doors open into the Library and slipped in, looking around for the man. She had seen him come in here, but had he stayed or had he gone to the study through the other door. Carefully she came in farther, not noticing anyone at first. Well, she needed to come in here anyhow, to see if there were others.

"Hello?" She called, knowing it was rude to talk loud in a library but speaking up strongly was the easiest way to get the attention of others. She only hoped the others weren't spirits. At the moment she wasn't sure she was able to handle that one alone.

"Anyone still in here?"

[crownotcrane]

There's a sort of distracted sound, and then Jonathan appears from behind a bookcase, holding several books and apparently trying to read all of them. It's almost comical.

"Oh. Hello."

Still the same, dry tone; he doesn't seem enthused, but there's probably the feeling that he's never enthused to see anyone, ever.

"I haven't seen anyone else, so I am forced to assume that you and I are the only ones here at present."

[sparkys_fire]

It was a little amusing to see the fellow with all those books. As if he was reading them all at once. Tim had spoken to this guy, for the most part, but now that she was wandering through it couldn't hurt to remind him, right?

Right. So... he was the only one in here huh? her own flat tone spoke a bit softer as she walked towards him. "Good to know. I'm trying to help round up people for the meeting. Get a headcount."

She would have offered him a hand in greeting, but for one, she didn't like to shake hands with people. For another, his hands were full. Was he researching things on how to get out of here? or other things? She wasn't sure.

"I'm Liz Sherman." She said, voice still a little lack luster in life. She was being careful and keeping a respectable distance, but she had closed the gap between then enough to talk at a simple voice level. "How long have you been stuck here, if you don't mind my asking?"

[crownotcrane]

Most of the books he's holding are severely damaged in some way; the half-destroyed spines reveal that they're texts about monsters, and various history books.

"I got here a few hours ago," he replies, carefully setting the books down on a nearby table and picking up the one on top of the pile. He places it down flat and starts carefully trying to pick through it; the pages are brittle and charred, yielding only the occasional word - and that's certainly no help.

The simple act of turning pages leaves long-dried flakes on his gloves, on his hands, despite his obvious careful handling.