... ow on Library

Paul Tarwater

April 30, 2007 2:46 AM

... ow by Paul Tarwater

Paul tripped. Out of bed, over the stupid Muggle book that the Astronomy teacher stated was actually a Muggle book. He had fallen on the floor, landing fairly hard on his elbow. Ow, yes ow. It hadn't hurt as bad as the worst Cissy had done to him. Still, ow, it still hurt. Paul had sat up, crossed his legs on the ground and looked to see if he woke any of his roommates up. He did not want to hear any "are you okay"s. Getting up and grabbing his clothes (fresh off the floor, yesterday's wears) and making a quick walk to the door.

Paul had taken a shower, being careful of his elbow which right now he couldn't stretch out without feeling some sort of shooting pain. He came out, grabbed that stupid Muggle book and bag, and walked out of Aladren shaking the excess water from his black hair with the arm holding the old bag and the book under the other arm. That arm bent of course, the elbow still had that pain. It would fade though, of course it would. Pain faded, Paul knew that.

He also knew right now he shouldn't be bothering with a pain, what he should be bothering with was the books in this library. The books that showed the jobs he could take at thirteen. Paul read it, if he had parental permission he could become an apprentace at most shop jobs near their home and Paul could soon be earning money in two years. It was the easiest, simplest thing to think of. He allowed the book to fall from under his arm and slid the bag from his arm to the table.

Paul browsed from isle to isle, picking out the books on different apprentance careers. Robe making, bartending, broom making even! He picked them all out, book by book intending to read them by summers end. He could skip a few classes, he's already skipped a few this year. Working, getting money, getting away from wearing the same clothes almost every day. Now that was top priority. Far over classes that didn't teach the useful trades. How to make magical things for those moving onto "higher" paths. Maybe Paul could sell pets to children off to school.

Paul hated childern. He liked pets though.

A book shop maybe? Paul liked books too. Potions ingredients would work as well. Cauldrons and selling wands. Magical paintings even, they would work. Selling anything would make money. Magical plants?
By the time Paul was ready to move, his hurt elbow was holding up books while his other hand steadied them. He had at least ten in his arms flopped in and one under the good arm. He couldn't wait to get to his table, his arms were aching.

The book under his arm fell to the ground and Paul tripped over it. He didn't fall this time, but he tipped far enough that all his books fell out of his arms. Paul swore bitterly under his breath as he dropped to the ground to pick up the books with one hand. And he was even having trouble with that as they just tumbled from his elbow.

"... Ow," he hissed, keeping his eyes down when he heard someone comeing. Whomever heard that stupid crash. And of course someone would hear it. Ten books falling to the ground wasn't a stampede, but it was enough. "What do you want?" he asked bitterly, not raising his eyes. "I don't need help," he said again, picking the first three books up and resting them in the crook of his bent arm. Paul didn't need help. He never wanted it.

... Ow. Stupid elbow.

0 Paul Tarwater ... ow 0 Paul Tarwater 1 5

Tarquin Reynolds

May 02, 2007 7:27 PM

I think one of us hurt is enough, don't bite my head off by Tarquin Reynolds

Tarquin couldn't help but be glad to be back, somewhere underneath his melancholic lover's sighs. When he was home, he did miss the smell of old books, and found himsef anxious to get back to his library, just in case it wasn't alright. Thus, the period immediately after any holiday saw him in the main library more than usual, patrolling it, getting the smell back in his nostrils and making sure the carpets had felt the tread of his feet and knew he was back.

It was on one such excursion, early in the morning, he heard - as was not difficult in the near silent library - a loud crash. He hastened to investigate, and found himself coming up behind a student who had been carrying a confidence-inspiring amount of books. He was somewhat taken aback as the student snapped churlishly at him. Of course, he couldn't see it was a staff member he was addressing, but it was not the lack of respect for his supposed authority that bothered Tarquin (for he knew that he was very poor at imposing a presence) but simply that he did not like to be spoken to sternly. It made him anxious. There were a good many reasons he had chosen books to be his main companions, before meeting Danny. Trying to remember that he was in charge here, and that the student would hopefully become bashful himself when he realised he was addressing a member of staff, Tarquin didn't back away from the situation.

"No, of course you don't," he said, without the least air of patronisation in his voice. He was used to being an outsider and had come to view the world with an outsider's idiosyncrasies. It came in useful for helping people who didn't want to be helped, for example, because he could always see things from a different point of view, and thus usually suggest a way around it. "But my books sounded like they were in trouble, so I came to see what had happened to them," he stated sincerely, "If you've not checked them out yet, it's really still my job to take care of them, and thus I shouldn't really let you carry them by yourself," he explained, tentatively picking one or two up for the boy. "Now, where were they on their way to?"

13 Tarquin Reynolds I think one of us hurt is enough, don't bite my head off 1464 Tarquin Reynolds 0 5

Paul

May 05, 2007 2:09 PM

Pain must be distributed equally by Paul

Paul barely cared that he'd just snapped at the librarian. Reynolds didn't seem to care as much as teachers normally did either, so it was left at that as Paul tried to pick another of the books up. He listened to the man speak, still angry over hurting his arm. Of course the librarian was worried over his books. Paul wouldn't expect anything less from a librarian. Paul looked bitterly at Reynolds when he lifted a few of the books up, he stood up with the ones he had, there were still a few more on the ground.

"I assure you that your books are fine," Paul stated calmly, walking past him and around the corner to the desk he was at and dropping the books there. Okay, that was fine for now, Paul came back a few seconds later and picked up the rest, balancing them unevenly on his elbow. "Over here," he muttered bitterly, knowing that he wouldn't get his way here and he walked back to where he had disappeared to before.

It was a few seconds before he reached the table, and set the books back down. Paul counted them, there were nine. He had eleven. Paul looked to Reynolds, expecting him to have the remaining two. When the librarian came over Paul held his unhurt hand out for the two books. "Thank you, sir," he stated calmly, awaiting the book of jobs to reach his hand without explanation on why a thirteen year old was looking for apprentaceship.

0 Paul Pain must be distributed equally 0 Paul 0 5