Broken Rose

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After a long time spent in her closet rummaging through her clothing, Allura thought that she had decided on the outfit that would at least be suitable to wear. Still hesitant, though, she looked it over again and again, contorting the fabric in the light to see it from all different angles and lightings. It was the best that she had, though she briefly regretted not being on good terms with most of the town. How could you trust them, though? They were all bound to be liars, braggarts, betrayers...

Allura stopped her line of thought there, realizing just how jaded and bitter her own thoughts had sounded. It had only been one person afer all, no matter how dangerous he had been for her. This bit of inspiration in mind, Allura thought that she should try to be sociable enough with the rest of the town for today, since she had already chosen to take the day off from work anyway.

Cautiously peeking from her home, Allura tried to act casual with her timid steps onto the path. With a mindset to socialize, she didn't know where she should go. Instead, she stood in front of her home and shop for a full five minutes, trying to think of all the places in town and looking around with a furrowed brow. As she was about to give up, one of the members of town passed her, carrying a heap of what appeared to be doll parts in his hands.

"Good afternoon!" Allura called out to him almost helplessly. Farron turned to her, an eyebrow cocked.

"Yeah, I guess." Taking this as at least some form of encouragement, Allura darted up behind the man and followed almost alongside of him. The man did not say anything and rather kept to humming to himself instead until they had reached the toy shop, where two other people already stood, in addition to the shop owner. Allura recognized Byron from before, as well as the owner of the shop because it was his shop and he had been here since his childhood.

​
"Why are you following me?" Farron asked finally, pulling open the door to the shop with one hand, his other hand full of the broken doll that he was bringing to be fixed for one of the little girls in town. The woman who had been following him did not seem keen on replying and instead slipped inside the shop after him.​
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"My dad studied everything." Reece pulled the curtain across the doorway, veiling off the basement staircase and the cluttered backrooms. "That's why he... um.. the shop? After Mum..." His eyes drifted, casting along the shelves of stuffed and wooden toys. "...yeah."

No one in Rosalin had known Reece's mother. They had seen her a few times, when his father was building the shop over twenty years ago - a white-haired beauty, thin and pale. The villagers were less interested in her than the tree that Mr Ottopeg was setting his foundations around. She had passed away the first winter after the shop opened - pneumonia, they said. And after grieving for her, Mr Ottopeg had dedicated his life to studying and teaching the local children.

Reece was 4 weeks old when she died.

The boy looked again at Kathleen, her smile making him drop his own and a resume his nervousness. He looked down suddenly. "Oh..."

Kathleen looked down as well, following his gaze. And there, a few inches from her heel, lay a toy bunny rabbit. It was yellow, with a big smile and little stumpy ears.

"Er... you wanna buy that?"

Then the door opened with a loud clang of the bell and two more customers came in: Farron with a broken marionette, and Allura from the medicine shop.




Deputy Ledbridge caught the library door before it could swing closed again. He followed Illiana inside and crossed to the Historical Archives Section. A trail of snow was knocked from his boots and as he moved he slipped leather gloves from his hands. The man seemed tired, and pale from a long night out in the cold.

He stopped by the counter, fixing eyes on Ivan, who seemed to just be taking a phonecall. The officer put his gloves down on the counter and waited, sharp eyes tracking across the library. There were a few youngsters here - the photographer from out of town, Chrys and her dog, the Russian girl - but no sign of Brenda. She should have started work here an hour ago.

Where the hell had that girl run off to now? Sheriff Franklyn was about to pop a vein. He'd run his daughter's last boyfriend clean out of town and grounded Brenda for a month. And this time the punishment would be worse, unless Ledbridge found her and got her to explain where she'd been. Maybe then he could help Brenda to get around her old man's wrath.

Winter's made for boring police work in Rosalin. Even the criminals went into hibernation.
 
With a bark from her trusty dog and a quick tug on her arm, Chrys was able to avoid Byron just barely. She laughed lightly and waved it off, knowing that he was always rushing when it came to his job.

"It is fine, just be careful Byron..." She said sweetly before she headed further into the library.

It hand been a bit awhile since she had visited and she wasn't sure where the section for brail was, in fact she wasn't sure where anything was in this place. That is what she got for having parents who were over protective. She slowly walked toward the counter with her dog, hearing that Ivan was either talking to someone or on the phone. She stood quietly and waited her turn, knowing that she would only get lost if she tried to brave the maze that was the library. She pulled off her blacked out sunglasses and let go of her dog for a moment as she moved to pull off her gloves, quickly becoming hot in her bundled getup.
 
Kathleen chuckled at Reece's weirdness, she was for sure going to make a character out of him for her book. His weird quirks and way of talking would make for an excellent killer if she ever did a horror novel. She looked down at the yellow bunny and slowly said, "Buy it?" Instinctively she reached for her wallet, any mention of money always had her checking to see if it was still there. "Crap!" Her wallet wasn't in the small handbag that was slung across her shoulder, which meant she must have dropped it sometime before she went into this shop.

Avoiding the people who just walked in Kathleen headed for the door. "Bye Reece. Thanks for the towel, I think I put it on the counter earlier." She left the store and hurried down the path she had walked from her house on. It wasn't until she was a good distance away, eyes scanning the sidewalk eagerly, that she realized she had the note he had handed her held tightly in her hand. ~I'll return it eventually...~ She thought as she also retraced her steps in her mind. "Oh!" After some thought she realized that it made perfect sense for her to have dropped her wallet when she fell after almost being ran over by the delivery guy.

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Location: outside Bob's Butte, an outdoors shop; at the side of a street close to the center of town.​

A gentle wisp of warm breath snaked from between her full lips and coiled through the air, a thin tendril creeping foggily across the right lens of her glasses, screwing with her vision enough to make her stop. She paused and tugged at her scarf and pulled off her glasses, roughly rubbing them over the scratchy material that had caused the whole problem. The young woman looked down at the cracked sidewalk, not trusting her footing over the unfamiliar ground. The last thing she wanted to do was trip and end up sprawling belly first on the ground in front of strangers she was going to have to spend time with over the next however many weeks.

Her chin lifted as her gaze swept from the rippling heaves in the sidewalk at her feet to the street ahead and finally to the horizon. She had always loved mountains, but these ones brought a chill of a different sort to her, one far from the wonder she usually felt. The sky was thick, flat, lifeless grey that mixed in with the snow on the peaks, making it look as though the mountains in the distance had no peaks to speak of. Or at least ones that ended in the human world. Maybe this was some kind of rural Olympus. The thought made her shudder, because if it were Olympus...then that made everyone below only mortals, the playthings of the gods...and who was there to keep the gods in check?

Her skin crawled with goosebumps as she shoved her glasses back onto her face and tugged her scarf back up. She could feel something in this town...well, more like multiple somethings. She didn't know exactly what yet...but it was her job to find out.
 

Hesitantly, Allura peeked out from behind Farron and tried to smile at Reece. It came out looking more pained but she at least tried. She did not know Reece well and in her experience, he was not a terribly friendly person either but everyone in the town seemed to have their own secrets. To her knowledge, Reece's father had been well-liked and the reclusive habits of his son were the talk of some of the people who wished that the shop was still run by the old man. Allura did not mind either way but if Reece was not well-liked, perhaps that could be friends? Or maybe, she thought, he was just an enormous ass.

Allura waved her hand shyly, encompassing pretty much everyone present. Behind her, Farron shifted his weight from one foot to another before setting the doll parts down on a counter with a sharp grunt. Immediately, Allura felt a little uncomfortable around so many people, even if it wasn't a lot. She felt the need to retreat back into her men's clothing. It was as Fulcanelli that Allura felt at least comfortable but it was new times and women were accepted - she could be a woman and feel at ease. This was what she tried to tell herself at least but in reality, she was awkward still.

"H-hi..." she started, looking around. A girl brushed past her to the door and Allura lost her nerve for speaking. After a silent pause in the noise, she licked her lips and tried to start again. However, Allura was interrupted once more, this time by Farron who seemed to have gotten fed up with standing around the shop and simply waiting.​

"Right then. The doll is for the little Jenson girl, Reece. Her father said that he'd pay for it when he came to pick it up. I have more to do..." with that, Reece walked back out the door and hoped that the girl following him would not continue to do so, it unnerved him to have his actions being watching by someone else that he could not even see because she walked behind him.

This next stop was to go and weed the flowers in front of the house of a woman who had only been in town for a short amount of time. Not that her garden had seemed drastically in need of any care but maybe he'd looked pathetic enough that she was willing to pay him to do silly chores. He took a pair of thick gloves from his jacket pocket, intent on doing as much as he could for the flowers since he was hoping for a lot of money from the woman.

He stopped in front of her house - what had she called herself when he'd asked if she'd needed any work done? He remembered, then, looking idly at the flowers around him. Her name was Constance. Kneeling on the ground in front of the flowers, he began to carefully weed in between the flowers, hoping that he wasn't busily weeding a different sort of plant that was interspersed with the others.

After Farron left, Allura stood silently near the door. She had the sense to move out from in front of the door after Farron had left, also pushing past her. Now she was left standing there awkwardly with a tight smile on her lips in front of Reece. Her cheeks were red and she wanted to go home already. She hardly knew Reece and now she felt more like an intruder than anything. She didn't even have any need for these toys here. She was a grown woman with no children, there was not real cause for being here and she couldn't even pretend to herself that she might like dolls.

"H-hello, Reece.?"
​
[Location of Allura: TOY PLACE]
[Location of Farron: Constance's yard]
 
[size=+2]Ivan[/size]

Watching Allura's giddiness, brought a smile to the old vampire's face. He always found his still heart threatning come to life once more everytime someone had joy, or happiness about them. Then Byron made his way from the sitting area as another librarian at the counter flagged Ivan back to the desk, pointing at the phone. Walking back to the counter, he reached over, just as Illiana walked in, and he greeted her "Welcome to the Rosalin Historical Archives. If you need anything please feel free to ask me, or the other assistants." Then seeing Chrys standing at the counter, he placed a hand over the receiver of the phone. "Please give me one moment miss, I do apologize. If you're in a hurry, Amanda can help you find what your looking for... if it's not history related." He added at the end as that's what it had seemed to always be so far today.

"Hello, this is Ivan. You were curious about materials pertaining to the history of Rosalin? Exactly what were you looking for?" Logging back onto his computer, he nestled the phone between his ear, and his shoulder, and lightly rubbed his forehead. The light streaming into the library from the far windows was beginning to give him a bit of a migraine.
 
Location: Eastriver Manor​

A voice had finally come through on the other line after being on hold for what felt like days. Yet in all liklihood only a few minutes at most would have passed. Impatience had gripped him slowly but steadily as a feeling deep down told him this was what he needed. Now he calmed himself to sound, at the very least, polite on the phone.

"Yes Ivan. I'd like to reserve and check out every book you have on Rosalin's legend about the rose. Its very important. All of them. No matter how old or how little information they actually have on it. I hope that's possible. If it is I'll be sending an employee of mine to pick them up right away."

Part of him slightly wondered if Ivan would even recognize his voice. For some reason he almost wanted to be remembered right now. After all he might get the slightly outlandish request carried out faster if Ivan remembered him. Or in a less flattering sense, remembered his financial stature. Quite some time had passed since their last conversation almost half a decade ago. Nothing he had done regarding the library since then required the Historian's area of expertise. In the past he had borrowed some books from the library, back before the accident. Especially books that could not be obtained anywhere else.

Reading had actually been a nice side-hobby that passed the time on plane, train, and cruise ships. It left him a rather intelligent young man. No matter where he went though, they would always come back in pristine condition. But now when he purchased books they were always bought online and delivered. Kept people from having to encounter him unneccesarily. Only borrowed books brought him back to the library now. Even then it wasn't really him. . . but instead the servants he would send to pick them up.
 
Location:Rosalin Historical Archives

Chrysanthemum just smiled and nodded her head kindly to the busy librarian, not wanting to be rude by speaking when it seemed that he was on the phone. She instead turned to the supposed help of a woman named Amanda. She quietly and quickly asked where the brail books were stored and was kindly lead there by the woman, showing her thanks with a big smile on her face. She scanned the shelves with her fingers, reading the bumps on the side with ease. SWith her trusty dog at her side she found a few books, some historical fiction and others relating to modern or scifi themes. She then took a seat for a moment, relaxing a bit as she ran her fingers over a random book from the pile she made. She would spend a few hours here, at least to enjoy some quiet time anyway.

She motioned for the dog to lay down before she opened the first book and began to run her fingers over the pages, smiling to herself as she started off with a love story of sorts. By now she had taken off her coat and scarf as well, only sitting in her white button up dress, black leggings, snowboots and sweater. Her hair was pulled back only to make her look presentable, nothing fancy or stylish. She listened to the small noises as she read, liking the feel and peace that always came with sitting in the library.
 
No good. No good.

The book was no good.

Not that it wasn't good. It was good. The problem was that right now, it did not feel good. Theodore sighed and tossed the book away, onto the street. He changed his mind just as the book left his finger tips, and lunged forward, his fingers splayed out like an eagle claw, tips crooked and grasping for the book. Barely snatching the book, he shook it a bit by the spine, as if chastising it for having the gall to consider escape from him. The cloth bookmark he was using to keep the page fell out and fluttered to the floor. It was some whimsical little thing that he had bought from a giftstore in the town, and was embroidered in some forgettable geometric pattern.

It was something else.

Ever since he woke up from his slumber, he had been .. more human than before. Nevermind his power. Things could make up for that. Guns could substitute where punching-through-inches-of-steel failed.

He had .. inhibitions. Draining someone dry was hard. In fact, it was hard to even go for the neck. He did not find the sun as revolting - nor as damaging - as he did before. Worst of all, killing was not as easy as before. It was as if his true self and his facade had somewhat switched places. And that was not even the worst. Deep down, he felt pangs of longing. A deep seated, buried voice softly cried, softly whispered, and every so often a little tendril creeped out from his long dead, fetid, rotten heart, causing him to shiver with deep irritation. He could feel it at the edge in his eyes. It was unpleasant.

Whap. Whap. Whap. Theo clasped the book's spine in the palm of his hand, alternating between letting the book fall open on his extended fingers and slamming it shut. The sharp, organic thud resonated sharply in the quiet street.





Location: At office.
 
Ivan was still on the phone. And the other assistant was busy helping the blind girl.

Deputy Ledbridge remained at the counter, his gaze fixed on Ivan as he took the call. The snow was melting from his boots and causing a little puddle around him. But he remained there, a part of him just happy to be inside where it was warm.

A quick scan of the library had already told him what he feared: Brenda wasn't here, and she was now over an hour late. If this carried on, the Sheriff would be tearing the town apart by lunchtime. That girl was in for a serious grounding if Deputy Ledbridge didn't find her and shake some sense into her first.

He cleared his throat, audibly, and continued staring at Ivan.




Reece looked at the broken puppet, then at Farron's back as he exited the shop. Then he looked at Allura. "Hi," he mumbled back.

Holding the marionette by one arm, Reece lifted it and watched the broken strings and loose joints dangle around. His brow was furrowed and like a sulking child he muttered, "Milly Jensen doesn't deserve this puppet."

He took a shoebox from beneath the counter, which was lined in white velvet and, delicately, placed the marionette inside. It was almost like a funeral ceremony. He carried the box through to the backroom, vanishing behind the curtain then returning. He looked at Allura again, then at the ground between them. The yellow bunny rabbit was still lying there on it's side.

"Er... you wanna buy that?"



At the centre of town, intersecting the streets where Theodore and Catherine stood, the bench was covered with a layer of snow, like the rest of the railed park around it. The area had been preserved in the heart of Rosalin and ringed by black railings and blossom trees. There was only one gate in and only one bench facing the little pond now covered in ice.

And peeking beneath the whiteness - to those who were blessed to see it - the Rose lay as it had done for centuries... waiting... perfectly frozen...

Well... not perfectly...

It happened in less than a second. A flicker of a shadow and a flutter of its petals. Both were causeless, for the sky was clear and without a single breeze. And yet it happened... and in that tiny moment the future was foreshadowed.

Something was on its way to Rosalin...

And the Rose was afraid.
 

At Reece's words, Allura glanced down at the yellow rabbit lying on its side on the ground. Stooping down, Allura scooped the little bunny up into her hands and stroked its nose with one finger. Allura smiled hesitantly, looking at the toy's black little eyes. The yellow of the rabbit reminded her of the gentle color of roses and she thought perhaps she could find something to do with the little toy.

"Sure, I'll buy it..." Allura stepped closer to where Reece was standing, the little rabbit held close to her chest with one hand. She looked over at the direction of the doll that Farron had brought placed now in its coffin lined with velvet, hidden behind the curtain but fresh in her memory, and frowned a little. "Children can be so rough. I wonder why she has such a delicate doll, instead of something a little more enduring. Perhaps she'd do better if someone were to give her cloth dolls. Will you be able to fix this one?"

Allura was not terribly familiar with the particular child in question, she did not know even close to all of the townspeople, but she had seen children in her years. While Reece was clearly more upset over the doll than she was, Allura was still a little sad that such a lovely toy was in the possession of a child. Children could be so reckless and cruel with their playthings...​
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"!!!" Theodore's head snapped in the direction of the park, his eyes acquiring a piercing, faraway look, staring into the distance yet at the same time remarkably focused. WHAP. To hell with the delivery. If the meat-boy did not make it here in time he would have to leave a slip. Or perhaps he would still catch him as he walked leisurely, but with focused purpose, in the direction of the park. His unhurried pace did not belie the ardor with which his eyes stared into the distance; all of this had begun before the muffled slap of the book closing even had a chance to fade in the quiet, snow insulated streets.

Onward he walked, humming, twirling his umbrella without a regard for whether Helios still ran across the sky or not. War and Peace lay discarded at the entrance of the banner-less stairs leading up to his office.
 
Illiana quietly circled the library, a soft smile on her face. There were some paintings here that she had not seen and some that she knew were fake. Some were really well done but she knew better. One painting drew her attention, it was beautiful framed in hand crafted wood. Someone sure had taken quite a while on it. The devotion and time that was spent on it really shone through. She was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Before she knew it her glove was off as her hand lightly touched the frame, not daring to touch the beautiful art within.

Her eyes were fixated on it but her mind was rushing to a place in the past, where hands carefully moved over it paying attention to every ounce of detail. He sat there diligently working on his creation. His hair was covering his face and it was the dead of night. Vampires didn't need sleep, he thought as he kept working, spending his solitude in a stoic state. He kept his mind busy, it seemed to help pass eternity. Hunching lower over his project his hair looked almost like rust in the flickering light of the candle.

Illiana licked her lips as she removed her slightly trembling hand from the frame. It was not the first time she had encountered the thoughts of a vampire. They always made her slightly shaky and lonely. She rubbed her hands over her arms trying to get rid of the cold that could never be cured with a jacket or blanket. She kept staring at the painting a soft smile still on her face but her eyes still reflected the loneliness she felt from it.
 
[size=+2]Ivan[/size]

"I'm afraid the Archive's policy allows for no more than four pieces of material to be checked out in a given week." Ivan answered automatically having the entire set of rules memorized from orientation so many years ago. "As for a rose, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. We have many books about a rose ranging from gardening, to works of poetry, and fiction." Typing the word into his computer, a laundry list of various books appeared in a column under books that were currently in the archives. "Yes, with over four thousand matches, I'm afraid you'll have to be much, much more specific sir."

The officer at the counter then cleared his throat, and continued staring at him.

"Please hold one moment sir," placing the call on hold, Ivan turned to Deputy Ledbridge, "I apologize for the delay, Deputy Ledbridge. It appears that everyone's gotten a bit of literature fervor suddenly. Is there something I can help you with?" Having only spoken to the officer a few times, Ivan knew very little about him, as he assumed the officer did in return. Seeing Illiana moving to touch the art, Ivan was about to warn her, but stopped himself seeing her do nothing more than touch the frame. Patrons often forgot that some of the pieces in the library were very very old. Most of which were purchased, and on display from Ivan's budget, though that knowledge wasn't common.
 
A lot of the officers in Rosalin didn't trust Ivan. It was probably because of his voice - soft and with inflections of French and Romanian. A voice too old and too alien for a long-haired youth like him. They didn't think it healthy for one with the look of a hippy to be so caught up in reading books and founding historical societies. The Sheriff had even suspected Ivan of drug running a few years ago. But nothing had panned out. Ledbridge was the only one who seemed comfortable with the man.

But then again, Ledbridge was comfortable with everyone. He had accepted long ago that the town was full of freaks, and as long as those freaks kept things behind closed doors he had no problem with any of them.

"I got questions, Ivan." the officer answered, gesturing to the phone with his eyes. "Tell the bookworm to call back."




Reece replied suddenly, a little louder than he should have, as one eye glanced up through the strands of his pale hair, "They're not delicate. The wood's strong and..." He trailed off and lowered his eyes again. "It's just they break when kids're...like... yeah..."

As if to stop himself, Reece turned and cleared some tools away. As he moved a jar of nails a flyer was uncovered on the counter - a white poster advertising the new night club on Findley Avenue. There was a hand-written invite to Reece on the corner of the flyer, signed by Ivan. The librarian was trying, as always, to get Reece to come out of his shell and take an interest in books like his father used to.

"Two dollars," Reece mumbled, pointing faintly at the bunny in Allura's hand.
 
Something beyond mere agitation flooded his emotions suddenly. Why did he suddenly care so much? Dreams were apparently all this hopes were linked to anymore these days. Never seeking out new friendships with the other townspeople proved that. Plus it helped that the mansion itself was secluded off from the town. Right in the middle of nine acres of woodland that remained undeveloped to this very day.

Only four pieces at a time?! What kind of archive policy was that?!

One could almost sense an outburst was imminent.

About to give Ivan a piece of his mind, the rest of the librarian's sentence sunk in. Just in time to prevent any hot-blooded words. From the sound of things the library had expanded quite a bit since the visits during his younger years. Quite more than he had fathomed. Specifying his search probably would narrow down the amount of books further. Hopefully down to the limiting number of four. Nevertheless it was still a ridiculously low number. Obviously discriminating against those who were in desperate need of information.

". . . Fine. Just search the books that have to do with the legend of the Rose in Rosalin. The four with the most detailed information on it are the ones I want."

Hopefully his words got through before Ledbridge caused him to be disconnected.
 
View attachment 3631Mia was just about to walk into the library, but thought twice about it, leaning against the wall of the building. It was too late for that anyway, but it was the closest building she was near, without being spotted. The image of the rose she drawn wouldn't leave her eyes. It wasn't like she hadn't known what the rose was about. She had some sort of a vague overview of what the whole "Rose of Rosalin" was about, but when she heard the word "romance" thrown in there in the rumors, she quickly discarded all thoughts. Mia leaned against the library wall and let out an exasperated sigh. The wall was lined by an dark alley, making it hard to see anything or anyone. The library would surely have some sort of answers for her curiosity, but she stopped for a moment to ask herself if she even wanted those answers. A tiny vibration tickled inside her pocket and her hand dove in it quickly, pressing the 'accept' button.

"Hello?"she whispered.

"Raynamia, where are you?" The voice of a strong and annoyed woman blared through the transceiver. Mia winced and pulled the phone away from her ear slightly. When she figured the tirade was over, she brought the phone back to her right ear tentatively, preparing for the worst.

"Mom, it's okay. I'm fine."

"Answer the question!"

"Library, mother. I'm at the library." Mia answered with a deep undertone of frustration. Her mom caught it and snapped back at her.

"While you're there, retrieve a book on how to arrive at home on time!" the woman said. Mia sighed inwardly, listening to the rantings of her mother. It seemed to go on for hours on end, but it was only actually for about 5 minutes. Entering the library all of a sudden sounded like a horrible idea. She wanted nothing more than to scream into the air, still listening to her mother's scolding.
 

Judging by Reece's reaction, Allur felt as though she'd said something wrong in her attempts to be friendly and understanding. She rummaged in her pockets for the money to pay for the bunny, looking at her feet and wondering if she'd somehow offended him by accident. The coins slipped through her fingers and she had to focus more on grabbing them in the large pockets afforded by her skirt. Finally, she pulled out a handful of silvery coins and counted out two dollars.

"Uhm... I didn't mean... I'm sure that the dolls are well-made. Just that they should be treated more carefully. They're not made for that kind of rough..." she trailed off, turning pink. Allura pulled the bunny close to her chest and backed towards the door shyly. "You're going to the club tonight too, Reece? Maybe I'll see you there. If you see me, make sure that you say hi!" Timidly, Allura backed out of the door, the little ding of the bell announcing her departure.

Once outside, Allura paused in front of the door to look at the bunny that she'd just bought. It was cute, but she had no idea what she was going to do with it. Pensively, she walked back toward her house, the bunny tucked in the crook of her elbow. Part of her wanted to go back to the library, but she wondered if it would be considered strange, since she was going to meet Ivan later that night. She bit her lip and decided that if she hid off in a corner, she wouldn't be noticed. Her mind made up, Allura headed back towards the building, reminding herself that she'd gone in the first place to study.

It seemed that Allura had worried for nothing about being spotted, when she slipped in the door she saw that Ivan was swamped with people. Allura slinked along the side until she got to the far back corner of the library and settled herself in next to a bookshelf with her new purchase. "Where should we look first?" she asked the rabbit absently, twirling its ear around her finger.
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[size=+2]Ivan[/size]

Ledbridge seemed incredibly serious, and knowing it wise to indulge such people, Ivan simply nodded, and then spoke into the phone. "Please pardon me, sir, but I'm afraid I'll have to put you on hold until another employee can assist your in your search. I do apologize." Pressing the hold button, Ivan gently rested the phone down, and then turned back to Ledbridge. "I believe I can safely assume that you're not here for a work of literature then? Please... follow to me to my office, and I'll assist you as best I can."

Ivan motioned to a hallway leading towards the private offices of the librarians, and historians that were employed by the Archives. As they walked, Ivan kept his hands clasped behind his back much out of habit from older days, than as a sign of nervousness. "May I ask if this is another false accusation, Officer? Your last conversation with me was most rude, and I'm still trying to assure people that I don't indulge myself in Cocaine, or whatever else comes to their minds."
 
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