(Untitled)

[ichbinzillah]

Zillah has finally settled in at the Mansion, and she's found a favorite spot--the library. She spends day after day there, just reading about politics and government, but while she enjoys the literary enrichment, she's a tad lonely. So she can be found in the library again today, sitting at a table reading some Marx. She'd be willing to talk to

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[only_paul]

He's every inch the 1950's stereotype of the graduate student, or rather, he would be, if his shirt were tucked in, if his shoes were shined, if his hair was combed.

As it is, Paul looks like he's been hit by a truck, which isn't a far-fetched comparison by any means. He still has bruises on his face, his lower lip is still split.

In short, he looks like a nerd who got bullied recently, and he's pouring over an encyclopedia, and gaping.

[ichbinzillah]

Zillah happens to look up from her reading, and notices him.

"Hey...are you okay?" she whispers, a look of concern on her face. He looks like he was in danger at one point, something Zillah is very aware of.

[only_paul]

He looks up, colors. "I'm fine," he says, quietly. "Thank you for your concern."

It's embarrassing, okay? He got beat up by his fiancee. While she was breaking up with him, mind you, through no fault of his own.

[ichbinzillah]

"...Are you sure? I mean, I hate to pry, but you look like you got jumped or something."

[doctor_pascal]

In an extraordinary feat of observational skill, Pascal notices Zillah while he's bringing a medical tome back to the shelf. He grins, and wanders over, hands in his pockets. He's in shirt sleeves, and rather messy, still looking like a relaxed gentleman farmer.

"Well well, bonjour, Mademoiselle Katz," he says, friendly, open, as he's ever been.

[ichbinzillah]

She looks up, grinning. "Oh, hey," she says amicably. "What do you have there?"

[doctor_pascal]

He grins a little. "Just a few volumes for a new essay I want to write," he replies, amicable as well. "Would you mind if I sat a moment? It's been a while."

[ichbinzillah]

"Oh, no, it's fine," she says, clearing a space for him. "What's the essay going to be on?"

[ninja_niko]

The young man looks more like a jock than like a nerd, and yet he is curled up on a windowsill, pouring over a heavy medieval volume with apt dedication. He may look extremely absorbed, but Niko is never not aware of his surroundings.

Part of him has been resting uneasily since the fire - he saved his girlfriend from it, but the girl he thinks of as his little sister has disappeared. He and Robin discussed it, went looking, but even the puck's nosiness was ineffective.

He hates that feeling of helplessness. Really, he should ask Jaenelle. It's been much too long. Maybe that's why he's twitching a bit, even as he pauses to make a studious note.

[ichbinzillah]

She watches him for a while, curious. Eventually she gets up and goes over to him, half-concerned, half-lonely.

"Hey," she whispers. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was interested in um, what you were reading." She holds the Marx out to him. "I've got this."

[ninja_niko]

He looks up, looks at her, then at his notes, and holds up the book. It's a heavy tome with script that isn't quite human. "Quenta Silmarillion, the original version," he says, slowly. He points at a paperback. "The English translation with appendices."

If Zillah is attentive, she might notice the name of Tolkien somewhere around the English book, quite certainly.

[ichbinzillah]

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh..." she says. "What--what are you reading it for?"