Closed You Again?! [Meville]

[Lorelle]

Timestamp :: 5th day of fall, 513 AV

Ten days and counting. The ticks of time seem to be rolling faster now. Instead of counting up it is counting down. With each days passing Lorelle's emotions get more and more out of line. She is grumpy and angry some days and chirpy and happy the next. She has put on this attitude of not caring. Of just wanting it to all be over with but at the same time she hasn't been shy about voicing her opinions on the matter to herself and Eva in the safety of their arvinta. The dog knows more about Lorelle and her feelings than anyone does. Which is a pretty sad statement when thought about. Lorelle doesn't seem to care though. At least she can trust the dog, she can't seem to trust anyone else.

Heavy steps make their way towards the library. Lorelle leaves her footprints deep in the snow. Her boots are worn, getting no help from Eva. She still has yet to make that trip to the market or any store really to get herself some new clothing and some boots. She keeps putting it off, never having any longing to go out and spend her mizas. A sigh escapes her lips as she walks. Her mood is less than pleasant today. She just wants to get the day over with and curl up in bed. Her bed sounds warm and safe right now, unlike the library which just seems like a stack of work waiting for her to spend all her energy on.

"You're late," Jack seems to find the need to point that out right as Lorelle steps in the door. The female Vantha rolls her eyes as she shrugs off her coat and hangs it up. "Way to point out the obvious," she mutters before walking over to the desk where he has been sitting and taking her place till now, "Why don't you just tell me what has happened this morning so I can take care of getting my work done? I am sure you have something better to do other than tell me how late I am." Jack stares at her a moment as if trying to decide how he should reply. Lorelle waits with expectant eyes till he finally shrugs. "Check these books back in and get them back on the shelves. I'm sure you can figure out the rest," he informs her, "Oh and Lorelle, might what to change your attitude. Wouldn't want Felix to hear that you are scaring the patrons away with your attitude. Just a thought."

Lorelle's jaw clenches as her eyes glare at Jack with their dark blue coloring. "I got it Jack," she says bitterly. Jack nods, never showing any outward emotion aside from his changing eye colors. He then just turns and leaves Lorelle to do her job. The Vantha makes sure he is in the other room before she plops down in the chair behind the desk. The chair is close enough that she easily rests her forehead on the edge of the desk. She wants to scream. To feel her ears pop with the shrill sound. To just feel something. But she doesn't, she just sits for a chime. Just gathering herself and doing what Jack said. Despite everything she doesn't want to loose her job. Especially if it is because of her attitude. Once she feels that she has gathered control, she sits up and looks to the books. Time to get to work. She gathers the first one up in the palm of her right hand and looks at it a minute before turning to the ledger to sign it back into the small library.

She continues on with the other books, checking them all back in. She is engrossed in her work and is surprised when she sees the dance of blonde hair in front of her. She looks up, but there is no one there. Confused she looks back down to the ledger. While she works, her mind thinks over what she thought she saw. Blonde hair. Not something common among the dark haired, dark skinned Vantha. In fact, Lorelle hasn't seen but one blonde haired human that she knows of aside from one. A thin, tall, unwelcome but yet very welcomed man that keeps seeming to pop up in her life. Meville.

A shiver runs down the Vantha's spine at the thought. Yes, she told him to find her later in the summer season. Yes she still has a favor to ask him. Does she want him to find her? No. Wait ... yes? Its complicated. At least, that is what she tells herself. He never came later in the summer. Not once did she see his blonde hair bobbing amongst the dark haired Vantha. Not that she really looked all that hard, but still. He never tried to find her. At least, to her knowledge he never did. Now she almost doesn't want to see him. Feeling a bit of bitterness and anger towards him. Like she trusted him and he didn't come through. But she didn't trust him, not really. She doesn't trust people often. That just isn't her.

Lorelle sighs. Does she want to see him? Today, no. The answer is no. She winces. No, that isn't true. She does want to see him. More than she cares to or will admit.

[Meville Brightshade]

Today was a day Meville had been thinking about for a good long while. It was, to most other people, five days after the beginning of the fall season. What exactly did that mean? For most, it didn't really mean anything other than the progression of time: one step closer to whatever end Lhex had in store for them. For Meville, it was the first time since the last time he was able to see Lorelle. Now, it wasn't so much he had lacked the ability or will to see her before. In fact, only a few days after their most recent outing, Meville had taken the liberty of not only tracking down where she worked, but which part of the Arvinta she resided in as well. It had taken a bit of time, but the Warrens were never really that much of a weight upon him. He could only occupy his time with tent-men, wizards, and near-death experiences for so long before he was bound to have to divert his curiosity elsewhere.

So, after much reconassiance and plotting, Meville had finally decided to reveal himself once more. It was a curious thing, really, that he found himself so invested in their little game. Some, most certainly, would have called it romance - while others, perhaps, stalking -, but it wasn't quite either of those things. Meville was infinitely curious about the oddities of life. Be it Charoda, magic, or even - especially in this case - a mysterious individual, Meville found himself rather helpless in the face of something so exciting. Lorelle was, to him, a puzzle. A complex sort of mechanism made all the more baffling due to its foreign nature - in this case: language. While he'd been working on better understanding and speaking Vani, languages were not something that came easy to him. His patience was an incredibly shallow pool that was easily stirred when faced with the very idea of tediousness. So was it with Vani. While he certainly would have liked to have been fluent in the Vantha's common tongue, the process of memorizing, pronouncing, and comprehending what was said and how to say it drove him mad. Or... Mad-er.

Still, it wasn't enough to stop him. He still made an effort, for the light at the end of the tunnel was not so distant he could not see it well enough to follow. And today? Well, today he was headed to the library to give an old drinking friend an early birthday present. At least, Meville was pretty sure it was an early birthday. Lorelle had never explicitly given him the date upon which she was born into the world, thus he'd decided it was most likely she'd be born sometime after the third. The particular day was arbitrary, as Meville had little to go off of. Either way, it was in his favor to be early or extremely late. Worst case scenario: Lorelle's birthday had been sometime during the summer season.

As he lightly stepped across the packed down snow of the current path between where he had come from and where he was going, he chewed on his lower lip in contemplation. If he truly was that late, perhaps it would be best to not even give the gift and feign ignorance should she remind him of the missed event. A small grin played at his lips, loosening them from their toothy prison. He doubted she'd bring it up, at least not directly. She was just that sort of creature. Though, as he'd been constantly reminded the last time, Lorelle did have a tendency to surprise him. For all he knew, if he showed up empty-handed, she might take a dagger to his soft and pliable innards. That wasn't really the most appealing outcome, but he couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the mental image of it. Lorelle could certainly be fierce, yes, but the idea of her eviscerating him in a blind rage was far too comical to be frightening.

A few passersby gave Meville concerned glances as they ambled by, but Meville was too engrossed in his day dreams to pay them too much heed. It wasn't long until the smiling young man slipped into the building that served as Avanthal's library. It was one of the more soothing places in Avanthal (the Springs aside), and as he entered, the aroma of old parchment and ink filled his nostrils with a warm feeling of nostalgia. His bright eyes bounced over the stacks of books, flicking from decor to books to floor to books again, soaking in the almost homey environment. It had been a while since he'd last made a run for books. Reading wasn't really something Meville did often, but he loved to look at pictures. While the art gallery was certainly a treat, something about the ink illustrations hidden away in a forgotten tome held a more intoxicating allure. Today, though, he had come to the library for an entirely different reason.

Moseying down the aisles, Meville swung the little basket in his right hand about, conscious of the weight held within it. His head turned with each break in the wall of bound literature, frowning as he passed without finding his mark. No. No. No. Oh- No. Meville let out a little frustrated sigh as he stood at the end of the row, glaring back down the way he'd come. It was possible Lorelle had decided not to come to work that day for whatever reason, but Meville wasn't quite ready to give. He strutted back down the aisle, scrutinizing each branch off carefully until he spotted the dark head of the woman he'd been searching for. It was no wonder he'd been unable to catch a glimpse of her before: she'd buried her head in books almost to the point of complete concealment.

Making his way up to her, Meville was careful to move as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing her. At least, he did so until he was within the customary distance for normal conversation. "Sleep on the job, hm?" His little chirps of laughter followed quickly after as he leaned against Lorelle's desk. "Works looks fun."

Common | Vani

[Lorelle]

That voice. So familiar. Yet, so gut wrenchingly painful at the same time. It feels like her stomach has dropped and her heart has come up an clogged her throat. She considers ignoring him, just burying herself in the books and never come out. No, that won't do. He'll get her out eventually. It isn't like she can ignore him forever. Multicolored eyes flicker up and peer over the book. Her gaze is met by the boy. His wiry body. Blonde hair. Single blue shaded eyes. Yep, its him. "Meville," Lorelle chokes out his name in barely a whisper. She isn't even sure she spoke and she really hopes he didn't hear. How embarrassing.

A cough is then heard along with a series of sounds to clear her throat. She shakes her head before looking back to Meville. Her eyes are shaded a dark blue as her gaze is steady but tells that she is not happy. "Your late," Her words are clear this time. Clear and indifferent. "I said to meet me later in the summer, its fall now. I guess you had no interest in learning what that favor I had for you was." She flips her bangs out of her eyes, reaching up and running a hand through her long, dark locks of loose hair. She shrugs. "Your loss I guess."

She sighs, looking back to the books she has left to check back in. Really, she still has the favor to ask of him. But she has decided that if he is even still interested in learning what it is, he will have to work for it. It isn't huge and technically, he still has nine days to get and accomplish it. Elle however, isn't sure she wants to give it to him. It is a risk, but really not that big of a thing. She will figure something out. Even if he doesn't wish to be around and do it. The quill in her hand scratches against the paper in the ledger. Another book done. Only one left. Lorelle's hand reaches out and grazes the cover softly. The cover feels worn and leather like. It seems like it is an older book. She picks it up, bringing it forward to gather the information she needs. It isn't long before she has found the correct place in the ledger and has signed it out.

Eyes travel to Meville as she sets the book down with the others that have been checked back in. She bites the tender inner flesh of her lower lip, deep in thought. Why is he here? What does he have to gain from having put off their next meeting till now and then just happens to show up at her place of employment? She doesn't even know where he works. Or even lives for that matter. How did he find out she works here? Thinking about it she knows it wouldn't be that hard. She is the only snowsong as far as she knows that works here. It isn't the norm for Vantha in her hold to employ themselves in such a place. So it wouldn't be hard for him to find out, but why would he want to? Did he want to find out or was it an accident? She isn't sure.

"So Meville, why have you decided to finally come and see me?" she may not know the answers to her questions yet but she aims to find out. She will find out. "Try as I might I cannot think of a reason for you to so grace me with your presence. Summer is past and my birthday is still nine days away, though I am not sure if I ever even told you when my birthday was so I doubt that has anything to do with your being here. Though I could be wrong. You found out where I work. I am sure you could have just as easily found out my day of birth," she shrugs, not really sure where she is going with this, "So yes, tell me why you are here? Oh and yes work is fun. Or ... was." She looks down him as if she is trying to say he is the reason it no longer is. Even though she is slightly fibbing to him to being with. It is a good job and she enjoys it. But she isn't sure it would actually be classified as fun.

"I would never sleep on the job. Though you..." her voice trails off as she stands up and pushes her chair back. She looks down at him, knowing well that this wouldn't be possible had he decided to stand straight up. "You I am not sure about." A smirk graces her lips as she gathers some of the books in her hands and starts walking towards the shelves. She hopes for him to follow her, feeling the longing to toy with him today and get out of him all that she can. Whether her plans work or not however depends totally upon him and if he lets her go along with her scheme or puts an abrupt end to it. All up to him. Just like last time they were together, if she recalls correctly that is.

[Meville Brightshade]

Lorelle's response was anything but graceful. The strange, sort of garbled choke of his name reached his ears with a tired, mutilated sort of tone, widening his already grinning mouth into a soft chuckle as the woman cleared her throat, coughing a few times out - what seemed to be - embarrassment. It was obvious Lorelle wasn't entirely pleased to have him present in her place of work. Though he'd been greeted in much the same way the last time they'd met, the effect of her rather cold disdain still held some power over his feelings of nervousness as they rose slightly with her steady, indigo gaze. It seemed as though he'd have to coax her out of her shell once more, though given their surroundings, Meville questioned the ease of the task. If anything, it would take him a little bit before he'd be in good enough graces to have a pleasant conversation. Ever the challenge was she.

Apparently her reprimand seemed to be all she could spare him at the moment as she returned to her work, effectively ignoring his presence. Though he certainly had plenty of explanations, Meville found it was in his best interest to remain silent and contemplative. If for no other reason than to give the appearance of both shame and consideration for what she had said. In truth, he'd taken so much time to let Lorelle handle whatever it was in her life that seemed to stress her so (well, birthday aside). It was one of the very few acts of true charity he'd done in his life. Though, it wasn't entirely charity. Happy enough to float with the flow of the Lorelle's commands and demands, Meville wasn't quite ready to let her assume all the power. He'd taken the liberty of choosing a date close enough to the end of the Summer season, such that should he appear she could not entirely refute his presence. He had the sense she didn't really want to refuse him access into her life regardless, but he more tangible effect of the turn of the season was a bit more safe to fall back upon than a simple hunch.

His bright eyes watched her movement carefully, following the loops of her script and the quick, careful dips into the well as she filled out the information regarding the book in front of her. Her careful appraisal of the final tome caught Meville slightly off guard. He wasn't much of a romantic type. Books were books, as they should be, but the tender way she handled the piece of bound knowledge caused his brows to knit together in a concerned looking surprise. When she was angry or upset, it was easy to forget how very gentle the young woman could be. Strange that she could be so tender while remaining so rigid. A slow grin reappeared on his face as the book was logged and placed into the pile. Perhaps she wasn't nearly as peeved as she'd led him on to believe.

With nothing left to occupy her attention but the man before her, Lorelle turned to appraise him much like the pages she had been perusing just moments before. There was a concentration mixed with a hint of confusion as her eyes ran him over, her lips keeping still for the time being. When she did speak, it wasn't much of a surprise it was a question. Though, it was question upon question to the extent where Meville was momentarily at a loss for words as his brain scrambled to throw all the correct words into place to respond in the correct manner and vocabulary. As he was about to answer, Lorelle continued, allowing him a slight bit more time to regain control of his thought-process.

With a slight poke at his reliability on the job, Lorelle headed off into the stacks. Not missing a beat, Meville bounced on after her. Whether she doubted him or not, for the time being he was as loyal as a dog. Being stand-offish certainly worked for her, but he was only able to pull it off from long-distances or at particular intervals. Lorelle was far too delicate a creature to just use any one tactic to unravel. For the time being, Meville was more inclined to keep her happy than to test her patience. "I have sleeping before at work. Many times." He chuckled slightly, though his face gave away the sheepish look of a child shamed. There were several times he'd been given rather harsh lectures by Geninsi and Jennai both. They weren't really the sort of interactions he remembered with fondness.

" I am late, yes... But not just lazy. Life happening makes finding you difficult." He stuck his tongue out at her playfully, gently running his finger over the spines of the books as they made their way through the stacks. "I came today because I finally finding you a present." Now, the bag was extended to Lorelle as he grinned. It really had taken him ages to finally procure the gift he felt belonged with Lorelle. It had cost a fair amount, though it wasn't an inordinate sum. The main cost had been how many times he'd had to go to the market when new merchandise arrived either by boat or the innovative hands of the craftsman there. "Early presents are fun, I think."

Common | Vani

[Lorelle]

He sounds like a child. His broken Vani makes him sound even more so. As Lorelle's eyes turn back and look towards him with a raised eyebrow she wonders if he has ever sounded or even acted his age. What is his age? She doesn't even know. Rolling her eyes, she turns back to her work of finding the correct places for the books in her hands. She doesn't really listen to him. His voice is just a distant sound at the moment, sounding against the thoughts of doing her job correctly in her head. Messing up isn't something she enjoys so she has found a simple way to avoid it. Do everything correct. It is a broken method as no one is perfect meaning nothing they do is perfect, however, Lorelle strives to do at least her job as close to perfection as she can. So it is only when a present is mentioned that Lorelle turns back and looks at the so called man who has been following her.

She looks down as the bag is presented to her. She stares at it a chime. She doesn't know how to react. She remembers the subject of a present coming up last time they were together, but it takes her by surprise all the same. She wasn't sure he was going to go through with it. Actually, she was almost positive he wouldn't. Especially when he decided to just not come in the summer. "A present? For ... me?" she speaks as if she is uncertain or if this is all a trick. Her brow knits in confusion as she looks at his face. "Why? Wait ..." she stops herself, groaning mentally, "Sorry, um, thanks Meville." She looks at the bag once more. "Let me finish this, then I'll get to it," she promises before turning on her heal and continuing on with organizing the books.

It wouldn't take a genius to see she is fluster. One could easily tell not only by the look on her face, but also by the fact she puts the books in the wrong places. All four of the ones left in her arms. She mixes them up. Putting the sewing one where the animal care one goes and the animal care one where the cooking one goes and the cooking one where the sewing should go. When she is sliding the last book in her hand into what she thinks is its place, she realizes that this is not the correct place for it. She looks at the book, confused before realizing what she has done. Her face turns red with both anger and embarrassment as she groans and goes back over and does everything over. It takes longer the second time for she has to locate the books, put them in their right places and then double check. It takes less than three quarters of a bell, but it feels longer than that. Once she is done, she returns to Meville wherever he is.

She looks down at the bag once more. She gnaws at her bottom lip before putting her right hand out. "Alright, give it here," she says pretty bluntly. Once the bag is in her hand, Lorelle stares at the outside of it for awhile at first. She wonders if she should open it or not, feeling just a bit nervous about what is inside. She finally decides to open it, wondering what it is.

[Meville Brightshade]

Lorelle's reaction was anything but expected. He found himself feeling a bit hurt she'd refuse it straight out, but the quick pivot and rapidly changing eye-color gave him a slight hint to the true motive behind her actions. Looking down with a frown at the bag that had been forcefully pushed back into his possession, Meville chewed his bottom lip in thought. From prior experience, women most often could be calmed by the advent of a gift or something of the like. True, Lorelle was certainly not just any woman, but Meville had considered the "rule" to be fairly universal. While the unannounced present had certainly affected her faculties in some way, it had not elicited the desired response. Despite his disappointment, Meville wasn't entirely surprised. Lorelle was as predictable in her unpredictability as the trajectory of a snowflake in a blizzard. Eventually, she'd come around to see things his way, but the path she'd take on the way down was anyone's guess.

At the very least, she hadn't straight out denied his offering. Deciding to follow after her (as the alternative was to stare sadly at the little bag and package in his hands), Meville shuffled along in her footsteps, gloomily reading the spines of the books as they passed. His low spirits quickly gained vertical momentum as his bright, blue eyes watched Lorelle shakily shelve the books in entirely the wrong places. It seemed as though he'd given her a bit more of a surprise than he'd initially believed. A sly grin began to spread over his face as he watched her quickly shelve the manuals, unaware of her categorical mistakes. With her blushed face and frustrated expression, Meville fell back some, allowing her to bustle off back and around the stacks until he heard an exasperated sigh of frustration. Several moments later, the young woman rounded the corner, her face redder than before, as she hastily passed him by.

Twice more she passed him, until she'd finally managed to get all the books in their proper places. By that time, Meville had resorted to leaning against one of the shelves behind him, hiding his ever-increasing mirth behind a raised hand. When she made her way back to his position, Meville managed to make a slightly more civilized face as he once more extended his gift towards Lorelle. She seemed hesitant at first, as if the package contained some sort of volatile substance just waiting for the spark needed to conflagrate the entire library. Something inside her head seemed to convince her otherwise, as she reached into the bag to draw out a neatly wrapped parcel.

It was unevenly shaped: larger on one side with a tapered end. As she gingerly undid the wrapping, the translucent head of a bird appeared where once there had been only earth-toned paper. When the entire present had finally been unwrapped, there sat a little glass bird in the hands of the Vantha. Meville offered her a little grin. "I can not explain why, but the bird reminds me of you." He gave a little shrug, leaning slightly more into the shelf. "Took long time to finding."

Common | Vani

[Lorelle]

While her body screams to do the opposite, to jump back and release, Lorelle grips the glass bird tight. Her knuckles turn white she holds it so tightly. She just stares, the color from her face drained. Her eyes are a dark blue shade, almost black looking. She is petrified. The fear courses through her veins, her heart pounding hard in her chest. It can't fall. It can't shatter. No. Never.

She looks up at Meville. Her attitude has gone from wanting to play with Meville and mess with his head to being absolutely scared of him. Will he start laughing? That scary laughter that holds no humor? Will music begin to play and her body frozen in his arms? While tears of blood travel down her face? Worst of all, will the three glass birds return? She has the answer to that question. Yes. They already have. One is in her hands now. She tightens her hold on the glass bird. It can't drop.

Her gaze drops, looking to the bird. Why would he give her such a thing? Is he trying to bring back that awful dream? A shiver runs up Lorelle's spin. She wants to push the bird back into Meville's hands and deny that he ever gave it to her. He isn't careful enough though. Surely he will drop it and what then? She can't hear that sound. Not again. She knows she'll break down if it shatters. Tears will run down her cheeks then and that is not a side she is willing to admit she has. Let alone let Meville know about.

She swallows hard, looking at Meville once more. What should she say? There is nothing she can say. Thank you wouldn't be true. She hates him for this gift. Saying she hated it wouldn't do. That would be rude. She sighs, gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip. "I wonder why you say that," she mutters, not understanding how such a thing could remind him of her. Did he have the dream as well? Surely not. Could he? She isn't sure that is possible. "Its pretty," she says softly. A true statement, just not one that she means fully. It is pretty, just not wanted. "What...You... Oh Meville, this is probably the worst gift I have ever gotten," her tone is blunt but upset. She sighs again, trying to force her emotions away. "I had this dream ... last season. And it wasn't a good one. This reminds me of it," she says, holding the bird now as if it is going to explode at any moment.

Her arms stretch out, holding it out to him. She doesn't trust him, but maybe he can keep it safe long enough for her to get away before it shatters in his hands. "Ta ... Take it. I just .. I can't ..." She doesn't finish, emotions overwhelming her. She waits for his hands to be close to hers before she shoves it into them. She needs it to get away from her. To harsh of a memory. To painful.

OOC for whoever grades :

The dream the gift and a good majority of this reply is referring to this dreamscapes thread we did in the summer season ---> Three Glass Birds

[Meville Brightshade]

As with most things pertaining to Lorelle, Meville was surprised by her reaction. The closest thing Meville could compare suddenly ashen skin and slightly shaking hands to was when his father had first seen his deceased mother. It was a look of horror, unbelief, and a heavy dose of agony, and it was entirely present on the face of the woman before him. The poor bird seemed to quake beneath Lorelle's excessively intense grip, making Meville feel ever so slightly nervous about her next action of choice.

His eyes readily met with hers when she flicked them up to focus on him, but they did not truly see the blue they stared into. She seemed to see him, yet not him so much as who he was. The appearance of horror that pulled at her features slightly intensified for a moment in line with her internal dialogue. Meville's face quickly shifted from his happy grin to a frown of concern at Lorelle's unnerving antics. Few people reacted to anything in her current matter, and to make it worse, the one he'd seen had gone berserk shortly after. While Lorelle certainly lacked the intense magical power of his father, Meville didn't doubt the young woman could cause quite a bit of havoc if she really wished it. Under any other set of circumstances, Meville would have been elated to see the young Vantha whirl about in a flurry of murderous rage. Now, however, he just wanted her to say something. Anything.

It appeared Lorelle, for once, seemed to share the wish to communicate with words rather than violent action, but she seemed at a loss as her gaze was drawn back to the apparently abhorrent abomination in her hands. Meville's fingers twitched, wanting to snatch the thing out of her hands and hurl down one of the aisles or stuff it back into the back and out of their minds. It wasn't so much a desire to do so out of empathy, but rather he was finding the stressful silence to be too much for him to handle. Removing the source of their sudden impasse seemed to be the most effective and efficient way of moving on. Just before Meville gave the command to have his arms whip out and reallocate the sculpture, Lorelle spoke.

Her initial question seemed rhetorical, as Meville had introduced the entire thing with a statement of uncertainty over why the thing in her hands seemed to be synonymous with her. Biting his lower lip to keep from saying anything, Meville allowed her to continue uninterrupted. Gods only knew how much worse the whole thing would get if he spoke out of line. Lorelle's comment about the piece's appearance sounded subdued, but not entirely false. If it was pretty though, Meville was completely at a loss as to what garnered her extreme reception. Finally, she told him what she really thought and why. Unfortunately, it only served to make the whole thing all the more mysterious.

A bad dream about a glass bird? Meville had had bad dreams before. He'd once found himself drowning in a pool of starfish, as the nasty little creatures crawled into his mouth, suffocating him. However, his reaction to starfish generally involved a lot of yelling and frantic increases of distance between himself and his object of terror. What Lorelle had done was akin to something much deeper and darker than just a "dream". He frowned, trying to see the bird in light of the new information he'd received.

The now bluntly dubbed "worst gift ever received" appeared as it had before all the shenanigans. It was elegantly casted, each gentle and delicate line accentuating the gesture of feather and bone. A slightly off-red glinted against the dim light of library as Lorelle raised it up to him during her explanation. When she'd said it was "pretty", Meville had to agree the little bird was certainly a well crafted piece. In fact, he thought it looked rather beautiful but mysterious, a lot like Lorelle. Shaking his head, Meville let her place the thing into his like it were some feral animal.

"I... I see." His voice was unmistakably disappointed, though its source was more internal than placed upon Lorelle's rejection. Of course, there had been no way he could have known the little bird would have the sort of effect upon Lorelle it did. He'd assumed the curious tug that had drawn him to the thing was a kind of divine push to give him the perfect gift. If anything, it had been the exact opposite. He sighed, gazing down at the bird in his hands, remembering the old woman's wheezing explanation that all sales were final, no refunds. On the bright side, Meville supposed he'd purchased his first piece of decoration for his sparsely populated living quarters, though it really wasn't much of a consolation.

"I am sorry. This..." Meville made an ambiguous gesture his shoulders and hands, swinging the bird around in a depressed rise and fall. "Was not what I had in my head when I buying it." The bird was raised up so he could look into its delicate little eyes. "It would seem, little bird, you created a rift larger than even I could have foreseen." He sighed tossing it into the air. "I would say well-done but-" A loud gasp drew Meville's attention from the airborne bird, causing him to fumble with it as it came back down. Several frantic moments later, Meville had secured the ice-like beast in his grip once more, giving Lorelle a startled and scattered look. "D-do not do that!" A slight, nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "You almost managed to make it worse!"

As he turned to hesitantly grin down at the bird, his hand twitched. The following descent of the bird seemed to last an incredibly long amount of time as his eyes followed the descending trajectory of the little glass animal all the way to its surprisingly loud demise.

"Oh my."

Common | Vani

[Lorelle]

One. Two. Three. The earth beneath the Vantha seems to cave in as the bird falls. Her hands reach out for it to only slip through her fingers. It shatters. The glass shards spreading across the floor of the library. Lorelle stares, her breath quickening as the sound of her heart beat floods her ears. She doesn't know what to do. She wants to scream, run and shove Meville down to the ground all at the same time. He is so childish and careless. Why did she trust him?

Lorelle's hands become fists, her knuckles turning white as her red eyed glare turns from the glass to Meville. "What is wrong with you?!" she demands, her voice loud as she takes a step towards him, "I can't even trust you to hold a piece of glass for a few ticks till it is on the floor? What ruined you? Your mind ..." she groans, spinning on her heel and stomping a few steps before turning right back and marching right back up to Meville. "It's like the mind of a child. Yep, your a child. Mentally, physically. No, wait. I would have trusted a child with that more than you." She groans, feeling like she can't come up with the right words to really yell at him and make it stick. She rests back on her heels, realizing she had been on her toes to get the highest view of his face that she can.

Glass cracks under her weight, sending a hot flash of fear up her spine. That dream. She doesn't understand why it has stuck with her all this time. It isn't like she wrote it down. In fact, she didn't write it down for this reason. She didn't want to remember it. Seems like that method didn't work. "Meville ... what? What is running through your head? Why would you intentionally throw something in the air? I mean you caught it, only to drop it. Who .. who does that?" she really has no idea where she is going with her rant, but she is going to continue till she has nothing left to say. She doesn't realize how loud she is being or the fact that she is in the library till Jack shows up. "What is going on? I just received a complaint about noise. Coming from here," Jack does not sound exactly happy as he speaks, his gaze pointed more directly towards Lorelle than Meville seeing as she is the one who works here.

Lorelle looks over to him, her eyes showing her annoyance and anger. She does not want to deal with him right now. She gestures over to Meville, her eyes shifting to him a moment before turning back to Jack. Her annoyance towards both of them shows very clear in her eyes. "Ask him, he is the one that broke the glass," she says before cringing. Not a good idea. At least, it doesn't sound like one. "Actually, wait, no. Don't ask him. I'll take care of it. The clean up and quieting of voice," her words get a nod from Jack as he crosses his arms. "Alright, good. Make sure that you do take care of it. Oh and Lorelle? Silence," he reminds her before turning and leaving. Lorelle purses her lips in annoyance before turning to Meville. "Clean up the bird," she demands in a hushed, but no less serious, voice. She side steps the glass before leaving him with the left over bird before walking swiftly down the aisle.

Quickly, she makes her way to the office where they keep all the records. She opens the door before sliding in and closing the door behind her. Her eyes quickly glance around before she gives off the satisfied nod of her head. No one is here, great. She sinks to the floor, her back against the wall as her knees are drawn to her chest. She wraps her arms around her legs. She shakes mildly. Fear grips her. It isn't really fear, but the burning desire to hurt someone. Meville in particular. The sound of shattering glass seems to throb in her head. It creates a miserable and horrifying sound. She wishes she could just forget. Forget it all. Just forget and in that, be free of them. Her memories. The worst prison.

[Meville Brightshade]

Meville was stuck in a novel position of emotion between hilarity, shame, and regret. To begin with, he'd never seen Lorelle so angry. The day after their night together, she'd been upset, but it had been less of a rage, more of a seething disgust. Directly after he'd dropped the bird however, Lorelle could only be described as livid. For a brief moment, it seemed as though she were going to take up arms against him, perhaps shove her delicate looking fists into his eye socket. Instead, she compensated for her stay of violent display with a confusing tapestry of abusive strings that didn't really seem to go anywhere. His mouth twitched between a smile and a frown as she moved from childish to insane and back to childish. While she didn't seem to be entirely aware of what she was trying to get at, he was surprised at how close to home she was hitting.

The feelings of shame and regret fought with a swelling rise of laughter. In order to make her point more substantial, Lorelle had had to perch herself upon the balls of her feet, which still was not enough to bring her on par with his height. She maintained the mixed semblance of a frustrated child and a feral snow leopard. It was an unlikely combination that made the mental images that flashed through his mind all the more entertaining. Still, she had good - though only partial at best - points that were as true as either of them believed them to be. The cracking glass beneath Lorelle's shifting weight made him wince involuntarily. It was hauntingly familiar in it's effect upon his physiognomy, but beyond that, Meville was unable to connecting to anything specific.

Finally deciding upon a love-child expression of somber dejection and understanding regret, Meville could only offer Lorelle an incredibly child-like rise and fall of his shoulders in response to her exasperated questions. If he were being truthful, the answer was he liked to toss things into the air. Meville doubted with most every fiber of his being that that answer was what Lorelle was looking for. In fact, he was nearly certain she wasn't looking for any answer at all. Her frustration was clearly evident in every movement and appearance of her body. Meville didn't need to spend hours on end to discover what red mean when referring to her shifting eye color. It was most definitely the very hue of rage.

Though the gods had scorned him in regards to the bird, it seemed at least one of them took a little pity on Meville by sending a man to filled what would have been the silence in which Meville was supposed to explain himself. The newcomer seemed confident, authoritarian. It was logical to assume he was either a regular patron of the library, or someone with at least a smidgen of power over it. Meville's luck continued as the man addressed Lorelle, rather than the two of them, about the noise. As was to be expected from her in her current state of mind, Lorelle hastily shoved the responsibility off of herself and onto him. Meville had enough time to feel slightly betrayed by the sudden displacement of blame before Lorelle corrected herself for reasons beyond Meville's skills of introspective deduction. The man gave Meville the sort of look that held the implication of "What did you do?", to which Meville muttered "I broke a bird..." more to himself than anyone.

With everything apparently sorted out by word of Lorelle, the man seemed content to leave the two of them to their own devices once more, though not before a slightly less than friendly reminder of the recommended decibel level prior to his departure. Meville rather wished the other man had just left without saying anything, as the "silence" seemed to only agitate Lorelle all the more, if that were possible. She commanded that he deal with the bird, using four monosyllabic words that sounded harsh, even in Vani. With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared among the many shelves of the book-filled world of the library. Grimacing, Meville squatted down to look at the messed he'd managed to make of things. In a way, the shattered pieces were symbolic of their relationship: a potential for beauty, but rather scattered and ruined in present.

Rummaging through the pieces with tentative touch, Meville plucked the larger pieces out of the mess, setting them to the side. Fortunately enough, the majority of the pieces had broken into relatively large chunks (around the side of a digit of his pointer finger), but the bits Lorelle had ground into the stone were a bit more fine. Wincing as he cut his finger on the final shard of the once-bird, he frowned as the crimson bead rapidly grew from his finger before running down the skin to land on the floor below, melding with the finer shards of glass. He flicked the last larger piece onto the pile to the side, putting his injured finger into his mouth and sucking on the wound as he gathered up the bag the bird had arrived in. Setting it open next to the pile, he gently placed the refractory shards into it, taking care to keep from slicing any more of his skin open.

When the main remains of the bird had been taken care of, Meville rolled of the bag and tucked it into his pocket, slowly rising while still glaring down at the shiny remains of what was left. Without a broom or mop of sorts, he wasn't sure how to clean the rest of it. He pulled several books from the shelves around him, stacking them around the general area of the accident to alert any would-be passersby that that particular aisle had been the scene of a gruesome and terrible trinket murder. With the cautionary tomes in place, Meville set off after Lorelle.

It took him several minutes before he was able to locate the door with the word "office" on it, which was close enough to "closet" for him. Without much thought, Meville grabbed the handle and pushed. Surprisingly enough, the door gave way slightly before it was slammed shut with the sound of surprise on the other side. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry! I was just looking for a broom and pan to clean up a bit of a mess I just made." He tapped lightly on the wood of the door, releasing the handle as forcing his way in was possible but impracticable. "Would you mind allowing me a few moments to search for them? Or perhaps you might retrieve them for me? I've made someone quite upset, and I'd like to get everything cleaned up as quickly as I can that I might assuage this rather hopeless situation I've managed to drop myself into." He frowned at himself in regard to the slight pun at the end. He'd certainly dropped more than just a bird today.

Common | Vani