towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters:

dualscars and everyone else.
Setting: The second library, very late at night.
Format: Starting with action brackets, but I'll match.
Summary: Dualscar partakes in an activity that does not involve violence!
Warnings: None, yet.

[those transversing the second library later at night may find the orphaner perusing its shelves, though with little to no apparent criteria for his selections. he looks as he has for the last few weeks: not to his standards of vanity. and with the more recent shenanigans involving nightmarish worlds? a touch on the battered side.

more notable, however, is that with every book deemed unsatisfactory, its chucked unceremoniously to the floor. only, that it isn't: to be thrown into a growing pile of them. one that, in fact, looks like quite a few shelves had gone into its creation. by now, several individuals could sit uncomfortably upon its hard-cover summits.

but if this requires any sort of attention at all, it doesn't show. after all, both holding a book and turning the page with one hand requires more effort than he'd care to admit.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Neophyte Redglare.

Never heard 'a you.

[his answer is nigh instantaneous, you wonder if he even tried to place the name. perhaps it's intended to be a jab at her, though her title would tell otherwise.

and he throws a few more books to the pile, three thicker volumes at once, despite the. y'know. lack of other arm.]

Are you searchin' for somethin' in particular?

Just browsing. You?

Not at all. In the midst of creatin' a pile, which you seem to be intent on profanin'.

['profaning'? why yes, he did just use that word. it's not often he creates piles, okay, and when he does no one should be allowed to touch them, lest they wish for an agonizing death. though he has already made several exceptions here, to his inner chagrin.]

Ah, my apologies.

I did not realize it was that sort of pile. My mistake.

[he doesn't plan to, thinking that he's just that well known. so, indeed, perhaps asking would be the best plan of action if clarification were needed. maybe. anyway. and her words remind him of just how silly this pile-making nonsense seems in this setting, but the compulsion to do at first had been more than a little maddening. nevermind the fact that there wasn't anyone to sit in it with him, or anyone he wanted to sit in it with him...

but thoughts aside. he tosses another to the pile, with a bit more force than necessary, of which sends a few tumbling from their higher perches. he shrugs, though turns away again so that she may only see the armor lining his back.]

Forgiven.

How gracious.

Not to interrupt, but having given my name it seems only fair that you share yours.

[if there isn't, then he certainly does. because this is how she should behave-- therefore, why even bother to question such? and now with few more books in arms, he looks to make eye contact with her for the first time-- or rather, would, if her (apparent) gaze wasn't obscured by shades.

and he'd smile, maybe, if he weren't so humorless. even in a relatively genial situation he still manages to look kind of pissed off, so instead have the narrowing of eyes.]

Orphaner Dualscar.