neutral_omens | (no subject)

Time: July 1, 2000
Place: Library
Status: Public
Summary: Where have all the flo ... er books, I mean ... books gone?

Asking Odin about fiends hadn’t sounded like such a good idea after all once Loki had thought it over. Not, if John wanted his problem kept secret. If it had been any other person in the manor, Loki would have just made up a story, but he knew Odin wasn’t likely to buy it no matter how well thought out it was.

So he decided to use the old fall-back: Read up on it.

He wandered into the library and over to the well-stocked section of books on Satanism and hell. ... Or at least he remembered it being well-stocked. There were still more books in there than in any other section, but the once tight packed shelves looked oddly empty. Some books had even fallen over, because there weren’t enough others left to support them.

None of the titles looked promising. Loki pouted at the meagre collection and went to search the next shelf over. The romance section still looked quite full. Maybe the books had simply been mis-shelved?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I thought I was the only one who noticed books missing," a reflective, patient voice said from the corner, slightly hoarse, as a pale face and brown eyes gazed at the shelves. A book was held loosely in long-fingered hands, normal, with bitten nails.

"When it's this obvious?" Loki gestured towards the satanic shelves. "Anybody who remembers what it looked like a month ago would have to notice."

He regarded the stranger for a moment. A human obviously, so he had to be harmless. Plus he had quite a nice collection of scars. Loki appreciated scars. They were marks of battle and demonstrated their owner's courage.

"You wouldn't happen to know where I can find a book on fiends? I'm trying to study up on the background of all the strange beings here."

"Here?" Remus shook his head. "I thought I saw something before, but it looks like it's missing too. You know, to this date I don't even know why there are medical books, Satanic books, romance novels, and yet no historical books, or anything resembling a dictionary or encyclopaedia."

He noticed the man eyeing him and tugged his motheaten sweater down over his bony and scarred hand. A fruitless attempt, but the man hardly seemed to care. The werewolf touched his hair nervously, too - it had grown shaggy and wanted cutting, care. "Do you work here too?" Remus asked finally. "I recognize your voice."

Loki sighed. "Any idea what the title was or what it looked like? Maybe it's just wandered onto the wrong shelf."

"I saw a few historical books a while ago. Might have two or three back in my room, in fact," he admitted feeling a vague hint of guilt. "For pleasure reading in between my research. Wonder where they all went to."

He had more that two history books in his attic nest, but it couldn't be hat many. Or could it?

"Work? Oh no, I just live here." He was sure he'd remember a man like this. The scars were quite memorable. "And I'm sure I haven't met you before. I'm Loki, Loki Lyesmith."

"Roman Lupin," the werewolf replied absently, staring at the shelves again. "I work at the front desk - perhaps you called one night. Not that it matters."

He shook his head, feeling the unkempt strands brush his forehead with chagrin. "No, there's not even an index for them. Believe me, I've looked. What sort of research are you doing that requires books on fiends, Loki Lyesmith?"

"Ah yes, that would be the night I called O.. Grimnir." Loki realised. He'd been surprised not to hear Ezra's voice at the other end back then, but hadn't thought much about it at the time. He'd had more pressing problems.

"No index? Who is running this library anyway? I'm all for relaxed atmosphere, but this is rather sloppy."