Eden Aiello felt quite alone in the library this evening. He was high, high up on a ladder in the static section, running freshly-scrubbed fingers over the gilt spines of thick engineering tomes, an imposing technical treatise on propellers already crammed under one arm. He so loved the library! It was so big, so quiet, and no one was ever very mean to him there. He loved the stained glass windows most of all. It was cloudy as all of Loshis had been, so no rosy sunset was going to come straining through the glass this evening. None the less, he loved all the pretty scenes arranged in them, telling stories he didn’t understand. Loved how if he got discouraged struggling through some extra confusing passage in a book, he could just hold its creamy pale parchment under a pool of parti-colored sunlight and the pages of text would dance with warm reds and delicate blues and plenty of other colors he didn’t know the names of – but he knew they were beautiful, and that’s all that mattered. Anything good and beautiful always mattered, just because it was.

Oh, oh! And how he loved sometimes creeping high on the shelves to take down the biggest, oldest, ugliest book he could find, just to throw it open fast and gasp with delight at the world of dust the pages would cough up. Book-dust clung to the air so pretty. And he’d loll on the table, not caring for whatever arcane knowledge the pages could offer him. Dust motes clinging on colored light somehow seemed more important.

He was a fanciful little boy, but he was trying so hard to be focused, to be smart, pouring his limited attention over complex engineering books that he could barely comprehend a word of. He’d just pick through until he’d see a word like ‘carburetor’ or ‘pneumatic gauge’ and think of his papa’s smile and his papa’s beard; then Eden would grin and remember and play with his necklace and want summer to come faster, neglecting to read a word.

He didn’t have much taste for reading, but sometimes he’d linger all over the lower shelves, roving over fantasies and adventure tales. Papa’s engineering was nice, but he loved the whimsy books the most of all. Books dripping with dazzling things. Ghosts, beasties, princesses in disguise! Wonderful things he could curl up and dream silly dreams about.

Eden had drifted off up there on the ladder, smiling dimly off up at the lovely stained glass, elbows leaning heavy on one of the rungs. It was only when his elbow slipped and his chin knocked against the shelf that he snapped back to the here and now, the place where everybody but him spent of their time. His legs were getting sleepy from being up on the ladder for so long, so he guessed it was time to crawl back down. He hastily selected a leather bound brick of an engineering tome and slipped it under his free arm. It was slow and awkward business trying to ease his way down the endless rungs squeezing a book under each arm. It was made worse by the starchy uniform, tight across his shoulders, stiff through the arms.

The heavy book, as anyone could have expected, slipped out of his grasp from all this uncomfortable squirming. It tumbled past the ladder rungs, falling falling falling until—

CRASH.

The impact resounded in the quiet library. He might as well have thrown a boulder off the shelf. Eden groaned mournfully, his whole form wincing at the sound, from his toes to the tips of his hair.

“So sorry, floor,” he called softly. “Sorry, book.”

Ali, wandering the historical nonfiction section, was in the front lines when the gunshot like sound ruined the silence of the library. Her perusal of anything relating to the past had grown significantly; she loved knowing the history of things, the past behind the world as she knew it. She squeaked, shocked as the quiet leaked back after the explosion, and Leisant who was supposed to be sleeping comfortably in her bag mrowled as well. She flushed scarlet, already forming her excuses should anyone have heard the sounds.

However, only a muffled "... sorry..." reached her, and Ali knew she had a culprit. Her eyes narrowed, and setting her shoulders she steeled herself for battle. It would be easy to rip them to shreds for interrupting the silence. Skirting around the corner of the bookshelves, she peeked and... saw the bottom of a ladder. And looking up she saw... a boy. With lots of pale hair. And possibly taller than the ladder itself. It set her off edge that she thought she recognized him, and some of her rage evaporated.

"Excuse me..." She knelt down to pick up the brick of a book, some engineering tome that had seen better days. "I think you dropped this." Her tone was clipped, but not yet rude. She barely knew the boy but he just looked odd. Hessean, perhaps...? She looked up at him, her lips pursed in confusion. Odd indeed.

Eden had to surpress a squeak at the sound of someone rounding the corner. It was going to be that librarian, or the scryer-girl up front, or someone else who's sole purpose seemed to be to scold him. He'd hoped that no one had heard it. He so disliked getting yelled at, even though it happened with disheartening regularity. So when he saw the girl, he absolutely beamed! She didn't look pleased, but it was better than a fussy librarian.

"Uh-huh! Sorry for knocking it down," he said brightly, flashing her a chagrin smile, gapped front teeth on full display. "It was....under my arm." He removed his free hand from the ladder and pointed at his other arm, swinging back, holding on the rung with one set of fingers. "And then it slipped. 'cause I was trying to climb down the ladder." He was then kind enough to indicate the ladder, as if the bitty redhead had never seen one in her life. "I sure hope it didn't get hurt, or anything. Poor old book..."

Eden guessed he might have seen her before, somewhere in some class, but there were lots and lots of small red-headed girls at Brunnhold. She could've been any one of them.

Even though he was still seven rungs up from the floor, he came to a squirming about-face on the ladder and hopped lightly down onto the tiles. He rocked on his heels, pawing idlly at the pale fluff framing his face.

"Can I...um. Can I please please please have it back now?" he asked sweetly, shuffling close enough to lay a blossoming boat oar of a hand on the battered tome.

Libraries. They were not her favorite places-- entirely too many books, not enough fresh air. Too cold, as well. All in all Ruhi would have preferred her punishment had taken place out-of-doors; this was well known to the professor who had assigned it, of course. It was a very mild punishment, all things considered. She had, after all, been caught drawing her fist back, prepared to knock it into a sixth year's teeth. Honestly, having to spend several hours reshelving and dusting library books was possibly too gentle. Ruhi didn't think of it this way, however, and her face was fixed with an unpleasant scowl, bright blue eyes snapping and daring someone, anyone, to approach her. Crawling up and down on ladders in this awful uniform dress was certainly not improving her mood. So when she heard the crash of a book falling shattering the heavy silence of the library from a section she had already rearranged, she did not hesitate to storm over.

"YOU!" she hissed, pointing a dark finger accusingly in Eden's direction. "What are you doing, dropping books?" Books she had already put away three times! Ruhi completely neglected to notice Alisoina because she had already found her target in the Hessean boy. Strong, angry strides covered the ground between him and her, and she took that same finger and prodded his chest with it. "Books are not meant to be dropped, you know."

“Aww!” a sorrowful little moan, honey sweet eyes flaring to the size of saucers. “I’m really sorry. I know I shouldn’t of dropped it, but it fell. I...um. I dunno what I was doing dropping it either. It just fell right out from under my arm. Sorry if it gave anybody a scare.”

Eden had visibly deflated, hunching his shoulders up around his ears and blinking down at the new girl with frown. He just wanted to curl up in one of the overstuffed chairs and pretend to make sense of all this mechanical mess, maybe let his turtle out of his pocket and let Arkite toddle all over one of the tables. Having bunches of girls making pinched up faces at him hadn’t been anywhere close to what he wanted out of the day.

“It was an accident, you know. You don’t got to be mean,” he whimpered, soft lower lip plumping out in a pout.

Ruhi narrowed her eyes at Eden suspiciously. What was he doing with that book, anyhow? "Well-- well be careful with it!" They were almost of a height, Ruhi barely having to tilt her chin upwards to fix Eden with a menacing stare. It might have occurred to a normal person that picking a fight with a Hessean boy in the library while you were already only there on punishment might not be the best of ideas. However, Ruhi didn't usually think about these things until everything was done happening. "Someone has to come in and clean up your messes, you know!" If he started to cry she didn't know what she'd do.

(( Sorry for the short pooost ))

Dawin was in the library for a self-enforced kind of punishment. His breaks were usually spent catching up and getting ahead on work, so when he came back and flaked out he'd be ready and wouldn't flunk out and get sent home to his father in disgrace.

This vacation, he'd had a bit too much fun. Too many days out, too much time spent running around the city in search of publishers, one too many lunches out or around his mother's house with Angus. Instead of doing his work, he'd been acting like a teenager, and now he was most certainly paying for it.

He looked frayed, in the library, the curly mess of his hair even curlier and poofier and wilder from the constant shift and fuss of fingers through it. The top button of his shirt was undone so that he could breathe, and the table in front of him was covered in books. As such, he was only too glad to indulge in a little break, even if that just meant standing up and creeping over to poke his head around the corner and look at the loud, study-interrupting fuss.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’ll try to be more careful, really I will.” Eden piped quite a bit louder than he ought to. The boy’s voice was just dripping with sincerity; he seemed to believe he completely deserved to be shouted at. He held the other book between himself and the Mugrobi girl like a shield, blinking owlishly down at her from behind the frayed edge of its cover. “You don’t...you don’t need to be so mean,” he mumbled again, stating the words again as if saying it enough would make the girl realize her error.

Those big, baleful eyes flickered over to the abused book, still cradled in the redhead’s hands. They seemed to be handling it much more gently than his own had. Eden’s hands were heavy and awkward, more like bander paws than actual slender, delicate galdori hands. They never seemed to handle anything with much grace, be it old timey books or half-a-dozen unfortunate little hingles. The redheaded thing didn’t seem to be showing much sympathy, either. So he just looked away, a bit desperate for something else to hold his attention other than a couple of squinty girls. He looked up to the dim-lit windows, to the books, down the row of shelves, to—a frazzled mop of dark curls.

“Oh, um – hi! Did I bug you, too? Aww...” That pitiful little moan again, filled with all the simple-sugars misery a fifteen year old boy could possibly conjure. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

Later she would have to blame her lack of attentiveness on the situation with Stephanie, however things got entirely too confusing for Alisoins the moment the blonde giant flopped off the ladder. First he wanted the book back, then another blonde (was she to be cursed with doxy-headed straw brains today? A punishment for not being as excited for Athrym, her favorite blonde?) came growling in like a snappy Uliam puppy, poking and jabbing.

Ali'd had her fill of fights, she really had. Glancing at yet another newcomer, this one also dusky and somewhat older than herself, Alisoina pursed her lips and flicked green eyes on all of the assembled. "Shhhh! For Alioe's sake, it was just a book!" With a indignantly haughty stare, she held the book aloft, eyes on Ruhi, and dropped it.

This sound wasn't nearly as loud as the first, but the previous fall had not been backed by a redhead with an already frayed temper. "Please, children! Can we behave civilized, even for a moment!" Her hands flew to her hips, and for a moment she stoof like a miniature idol. So many foreigners! She was hard pressed not to just notch it up to bad blood. Turning to the mousy lad behind the bookshelf, she tapped her foot and beckoned him with one hand. "Join us, obviously it's a party." If any of the assembled looked, Ali's eyes were a shade pink, and her lime eyes shimmered a little. She'd had enough with Steph, and her face still stung. She'd wanted quiet, and now this! Everything was blurrier than it ought to be, and she was bruised in places spells couldn't heal.

Why hadn't she just gone to bed?

With a totally uncharacteristic sniffle, Ali sank back against the bookshelves, easily grabbing the twice-dropped leatherbound book and holding it out to Eden. "There. I'm um. Sorry I guess for snapping. To all of you." She ran a hand through her curls, trying not to give in to the desire for a fit. "I'm being an arrogant ass. I'm sorry."

Reflexively, the young Mug girl felt her hands tense up, preparing to ball into fists when she heard the bang of the dropped book. The muscles in her arms jumped, the effort of keeping her knuckles from connecting with the little ginger's jawline causing visible strain to her person. Foreigners! She was quite tired of them and their book-dropping ways. Instead of punching Alisoina, however, Ruhi opted to put her hands to better use and straighten up the shelf. Again.

"What are you looking at?" she demanded, catching sight of Dawin's head peeking around the shelf. Why were there so many people today? She didn't want to talk to any of them, wanted to kick someone and be done with it. Of course she probably shouldn't do anything of the sort in this skirt. Still. She sized up everyone present. Definitely not the most physically threatening specimens. She could probably take them, especially the little redhead. "Not gonna hit anyone," she muttered under her breath, reminding herself. It was proving harder than she had expected.

There was a moment -- brief but intense -- in which Dawin held his breath and just blinked at the three of them, taking them in. Then he came to the realization that these were all younger students, he had seniority. That put a bit more steel in his spine, brought him the rest of the way around the corner, clearing his throat and straightening himself.

When Dawin straightened himself, it was almost intimidating. He was so tall, even among this group, that he could easily have been imposing. Only 'almost', though, because he still had a pinched-and-somewhat-worried sense around the corners of his mouth, a tip to his eyebrows, and an edge to his posture that was almost apologetic. He spoke just a hair too softly to be imposing, really, thought that could have been in deference to the atmosphere of the library.

"You're all being too loud. This is a library, not the Lawn. If you want to have it out, then take it to a more suitable location." At least he sounded sure of that. His eyes darted away from them once, quickly, toward where a teacher might be sitting. Just in case.

Eden's eyes flared to saucers at the start of Alisoina's snit. A delicate mewl burst up from his lips, a distressed little noise. Another litany of 'I'm sorry sorry sorry' was ripe on his tongue, but he quieted when her anger began to waver into...sadness? Those pretty green eyes were pink around the rims and they looked so wet and oh no oh Ophur the girl was going to cry. This was far too much emotional stimulation for the course of ten seconds.

“Oh bells and chimes! Don't cry! Was somebody just awful to you? I'm sorry sorry for buggin' you.” With all the grace he could muster he shoved the book under one arm and squeezed her little white hands in his, soft brown puppy paws swallowing it from wrist to fingertips. Little redheads crumpling up in tears were a far more important subject than any treatise on the ergonomic curve of aeroship hulls or all the two thousand words of the perceptive essay he'd neglected to write. She was obviously having such a bad day and he was making it worse and it was absolutely unforgivable.

Soft lips curled down into something that could have been a scowl, but it was too baby-soft and simpering. He flickered what could've been the immature cousin of an accusatory glare over his shoulder to Ruhi. She didn't need to be yelling at people, raising her voice and waving her fingers and hurting nice little girl's nice little feelings.

"You," he pronounced gravely, "should stop yelling at people. It isn't nice."

Ruhi's behavior wasn't lost on Ali, and she sighed again, willing herself to remain together for at least-- large, ungainly hands then encompassed hers, and she was startled into looking directly into golden eyes like liquid honey and marigold and sunlight. It was odd, how little she reacted, but it felt fine for that second to have big warm hands on her cold skin. Pale, freckled flesh came up in goose pimples under Eden's hands.

"I wasn't going to cry." Her voice was soft, and as she spoke the true color came to her cheeks. Alisoina pulled her hands, trying to free them from Eden's grasp with some jerky urgency. She didn't want to have to deal with this, even with someone as nice as the strange boy. She felt all out of sorts and cold-warm-stiff-fuzzy on the inside, like she did after one of her mothers and father fights back home. "Nobody was awful to me." She sniffled lightly, trying to strike and cling to the ecstasy of winning all at once.

Oh she wanted to be done with this all. Maybe if she broke everyone's nose they'd kick her out of this horrible school and she could go home. She didn't want to be nice, clock it, she wanted to put these books away and go back to her room and hit her pillow for a while. Kick and scream and shout at her walls, her chair, her bed, and then she'd wear herself out and go to sleep. "You all are being stupid," she growled. Not the most clever of responses. Now that the book was put away she had nothing to do with her hands. Too loud? She'd show him too loud. He was the oldest, she gathered. Perhaps if she hit the one who'd called her loud, the rest of them would go away. Disciplinary probabtion be damned, she was angry and tired and she just wanted them to stop. If they didn't, well. She'd give the little ginger something to cry about.

So she cracked her knuckles. Made a fist. And threw it somewhere in the direction Dawin's stomach.

Ruhi just went for it. No one was necessarily expecting it. Definitely not Dawin, standing there attempting to be the figure of authority as best as possible. Still, it just happened. There was talking, and then there was a fist. The younger girl was still almost a match in size for the older boy, and so her blow landed solidly in Dawin's stomach.

It was no glancing blow, either. It was definitely enough to force a grunt out of Dawin, to double him over just a little.

A few moments ticked by where Eden stood perfectly still, hands frozen midair, wide-eyed with shock. And then –

“What are you doing?” It was loud and cracked, eons more distressed than threatening. He whipped around to Ruhi, a ball of fluff and fury, delicate field bristling with all sorts of squirmy feelings. Eden seemed to understand the pose for indigence just fine – heels dug into the tiles, hands on hips, chest all puffed up – but he wasn’t so artful with the words.

“You do not go around hurting people just because you can! You’re just – you’re just awful! He didn’t even do anything and you just –“ He broke off and blinked over to Dawin, face crumbling from pre-pubescent anger to puppy-eyed sorrow. “Oh bells and chimes are you okay? I’m so so sorry -- but you!” His head snapped over to Ruhi again. “Can’t you see she’s upset? You don’t care ‘bout anybody’s feelings and I – I – I...” the last few letters were huffed and puffed around the sad little breaths that were the burgeoning storm clouds on the horizon of a temper tantrum.

“Teacherrrr! Librariaaaaan! Somebodyyyy!”

The expression on Dawin's face was incredulous, more than anything else; sure, that hurt, but it was the sheer shock of the thing that really got to him. People didn't just go around hitting other people -- or at least, galdori didn't. That sort of behavior was reserved for humans or wicks, and only because they didn't have the kind of higher brain function required to have it out verbally, or the magic to handle things on the Lawn.

The breath all gone out of him, he contemplated fishing for the mona, to at least still the younger girl and keep her from more barbaric actions...but his voice was gone, so instead he stood gulping for air with arms curled around his stomach.

He'd just tell on her, instead.

There seemed to be a painfully long wait (especially for the one in physical pain) before anyone arrived on the scene of the shouting. In fact, it didn't really seem like anyone was going to come, that nobody cared about the shrill voice that violated the sanctity of silence that was held to in the Library, that no one wanted to stop their own studies and see what the clock was going on.

Just as doubt began to set in all the minds of those gathered, young Professor Lula Ayers (fresh out of her internship and finally teaching a class of first formers Living Magic) appeared around the corner of a bookshelf to stare in wide-eyed shock at the gathering of students. She was a tiny woman with mousy brown hair in a fashionable up-do and thick glasses that made her almost appear like an actual rodent.

"What in Alioe's name is going on in here, children? You are all far too old to be misbehaving in a place like this." Her tone almost sounded like she was speaking to first formers, and she totally was talking with her hands.

Dawin's reply was immediate, still breathless and voiceless, and entirely without grace: one hand thrust out, an accusatory finger toward Ruhi. He couldn't speak, but the gesture said enough. 'She did it. All her. Trouble.'

What horrible boys! What horrible, weak little boys, tattling to the teacher like that! Not that she expected anything different. Bah! Boys! Soft little things. For a moment, the girl thought she was safe-- but no, there came a teacher. A young one, so perhaps a soft one?

"It wasn't-- I didn't--" Ruhi bowed her head but her expression was dark as thunder. Oh she was going to fix those two so good-- if she didn't get expelled, first.

Young Professor Ayers set her hands on her hips for a moment, glaring between the students without a word, though her expression was decidedly sour,

"If someone doesn't tell me clearly what happened right now, I'm going to give all of you enough demerits to warrant lunch duty for a week." Her eyes drifted to Dawin who was obviously in pain, then back to stammering Ruhi and finally to the other two children, "I'm sure at least one of you isn't willing to clean the lunch trays for that long, hmm?"