uns ist in alten mæren wunders vil geseit

[majorhellstrom]

Every now and then, the bookshelf would offer Dieter something that he'd, for once, deign to actually pick up. One by one, he'd been reading the spines of the books on the shelf, one finger tracking the letters, until he came across one that he recognized. The Nibelungenlied. For an instant, his brow furrowed before smoothing out again as he pulled

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[deputyjo]

Freshly showered from her daily God only knew how long of a run, Jo figured that she a book would be a good way to relax. She didn't even care what book it was, as long as it was something that took her mind off the fact that she was still stuck on the island.

Stepping inside of the rec room, Jo flipped her still damp ponytail over her shoulder as she headed over to the bookshelf. Her eyes scanned the titles, though her eyebrows drew together, not recognizing one of them. They all seemed to be in German, at least that's what it looked like.

Randomly picking one, she glanced at the titles, Scriptum, and then flipped it open to the first chapter. "Zanächst bemerkte neimand die vier Reiter, die aus dem Dunkel des Central Park auftauchten." Jo sighed and closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

Stepping back, she looked around and spotted the man sitting, reading. "Is it always like this?" she asked motioning to the bookshelf.

[majorhellstrom]

Hellstrom's eyes flickered upward the moment the woman stepped into the room, curiosity piqued as soon as she read aloud. It was rare that he heard anyone speak German on the island. It wasn't necessarily something that he'd say he missed, but it was a bit of a throwback. (And it figured that he'd get the only English volume on the shelf.)

"Not always," he drawled, not moving from where he sat. "But if you mean 'is it always intent on being contrary,' then I might have to answer otherwise."

[deputyjo]

Jo nodded, and looked back at the bookshelf warily. Figured that the thing would be strange. The whole island was strange. "Does it shift through books on a regular basis?" God she hoped so. While she'd been able to read the first sentence in the book, she had no idea what it'd meant - well outside Central Park, but that was universal she supposed.

[majorhellstrom]

"It does," Hellstrom replied, keeping his book open in his lap. "Most of the time it is stocked expressly to make things difficult for you. I got lucky."

[goingtodorking]

Today, Karen's reading about history. She's got a book about the Egyptians, a book about King Arthur and a book about World War II. When she sees Dieter, she makes a beeline for him, her books tucked under her arm. She studies him for a long moment.

"Is anybody sitting there?" she asks. Just because Shadow and Rollie haven't got girlfriends doesn't mean that nobody has.

[majorhellstrom]

His eyes leave his book when she stops in front of him, eyebrows rising slowly in anticipation. When she asks after the seat, he closes the book, keeping his place with his pointer finger as he scoots over a little to make room.

(He notes the titles of her books in his peripheral vision. One title in particular causes him a little concern, but it's nothing that he shows outwardly or comments on.)

"The seat is yours."

[goingtodorking]

Dumping her books in his lap, Karen climbs up onto the seat next to him, smoothing her hair back from his face.

"I'm doing history."

[majorhellstrom]

(History, he thinks. That's what he is. Albeit a part that won't go down in any history books.)

"I can see that," he says gently, straightening the books with his free hand. "Some things older than others."

[backward]

Effy is, in contrast, currently leafing through a graphic novel and taking in a few of the images, but finding herself almost incapable of focusing on any of the words for too long. Her eyes dart over the speech bubbles and instead find the blood and gore of the next few panels - the book has something to do with zombie apocalypse, and spilled guts are practically a guarantee

[majorhellstrom]

The feeling of a pair of eyes on you is one that's fairly unique, and one that Dieter has always been particularly apt about picking up on. Slowly, slowly, his eyes leave the pages of his book (his gaze is the only thing that moves) to meet hers, a long moment passing before his mouth curls into the same smirk. This is a game he knows how to play, and one that it's been too long since he indulged in.

[backward]

Although she craves, out of boredom, the opportunity to mess with someone in however small a way, it's unexpectedly no less gratifying when both her smirk and stare are reciprocated. It reminds her of Tony, and how they used to challenge each other across the dinner table, daring on another to laugh in the midst of one of their father's endless stories. She always lost, but that doesn't have to be the case now.

Propping an elbow onto the nearest arm rest, she tilts her cheek into her palm and narrows her gaze, a clear indication that she could play this game all day. (As if anyone here has anything better to do.)

[majorhellstrom]

His memories of matching stares like this are considerably less innocent. What holds the same is that it was always a challenge to see who would break first. It's the consequences that differ.

He doesn't move, gaze still fixed on hers. While it's been a long time since he's done this, it's been a longer time since he's met anyone who could come even close to par with how adept he is.

(If they ever get around to conversation, he's looking forward to it.)