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Mr. Bliss
Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 09:34 AM (244 Views)
Rorick Skyve
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Now that was unfortunate. Maxim needed to be sure, he had to check again before he'd be ready to declare defeat. His index finger wandered across a great number of book spines, passing the section which was labeled with a 'R', then the 'S' as well. Maybe someone had accidentally placed the object of his search at the wrong place on the shelf, somewhere before or after where it belonged. There were certainly enough halfwits capable of performing such a feat. Then again, those would most likely not pick up a book like that in the first place.

Almost there. Tidbeck, Tidhar, Tilley, Thompson, a second Thompson, a third - Jeez, almost as bad as the Müllers in Germany - there. Tolkien. There were his works, neatly strung together, almost emitting an awe-inducing aura or more than almost, at least in his case. There they all were, The Silmarillion, The Children of Húrin, The Lord of the Rings, of course, multiple editions at that. Yes, there it was, all of the published work of that man he so admired. Well, almost.

Of course, of course the one work he had hoped to be able to borrow from the library, that one work he was looking for, The Hobbit, it was missing. Of course. Most likely occupied by some snotty brat, some 12-year old who had heard that Tolkien was 'cool' or something like that. There was no way a kid like that would be able to appreciate what they were holding in their hands, no conceivable way they would in any way feel grateful to be able to delve into the world of Tolkien's writings. No, they would probably leave it lying under their bed or so, disregard it, while others like him, Maxim, had to wait for eternities. It made him feel angry, sick almost.

Maybe there was still hope? Maybe it had been misplaced after all, a bit farther to the right...? There, after Tolkien came Turtledove. That was it, that was all of the 'T' section. No Hobbit there either. Of course not.

Frustrated and feeling like he was ready to tear any book that didn't have Tolkien's name on it to pieces, Maxim turned away from the bookshelf. It was partly his fault too, of course. He could have come here sooner. He had known for a more than sufficient amount of time that he wanted to read that particular book in question. It had stuck out like a sore thumb, of all the famous works in the fantasy genre to miss out on, he had chosen The Hobbit. Well, not exactly chosen. He had rather neglected its existence for far too long, considered it a mere children's book, based on what an old friend had told him. Too bad it had turned out the friend in question was apparently out of his mind, to dismiss it as just that. A children's book, yes, but still crafted and written by Tolkien, worth his time and his attention in every possible way.

So he had decided to get it here. He didn't want to have to buy it, even with all that money of his godmother meaning he had a nice cushion to fall on, should he have ever encountered monetary problems. It was a matter of principle. If he could get it at a place like this, without having to pay for it, then he would take this route. Try to. And fail, apparently. Because not one, not two, but apparently every single one of the available copies was currently lent out.

Infuriating, that's what it was. Walking away from the fantasy section, he started to rub his left eye with the palm of his hand. It had started to itch, even more so than the pesky problem he had come across. Barely registering what direction he was walking in, he turned the corner, exiting the corridor of bookshelves.
Peoples and Sheeples for V6
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Had he really not been thorough in his search? Seemed like it. According to the info desk lady, there was still one copy available within the library, not lent out. Maybe he had been sloppy during his initial search and his ensuing anger over it had caused him to become even less thorough after. Possible. Not likely, but possible.

It was far more likely that some neglectful jackass had put the copy in question back on the wrong shelf, into the wrong section, left it lying around somewhere, one of those. Wasn't too much of a stretch. There were tons of books lying around in some of the reading corners, didn't help that the personnel in the library apparently had better things to do than putting those back where they belonged. Maxim huffed, more annoyed than angered.

At least there was hope now. There was one copy of that damned book somewhere in there and he was going to find it. Seek and you shall find. Almost sounded like something out of the bible. Then again, he hadn't read it and wasn't ever going to, so just an assumption, really.

Rubbing the underside of his eye with two fingers, Maxim began looking around. He'd check the reading corners first, seemed like the most promising approach. At least the place wasn't too crowded on this day. Some isolated gents here and there, a mother and her son cheerfully yacking about in the children's corner. Fairly unlikely that someone had taken the book over there.

He approached the table section. Only two people there, some middle-aged woman with a grotesquely painted face and someone - oh, it was Brendan. Always sitting at the desk behind his in math class. Only thing he ever found to be noticeable about him, really. That and his sort of good looks. Could probably even be considered attractive. Not important.

Seeing as how the two of them had only ever exchanged a couple of words, he saw no reason for him to greet his classmate, especially with him still searching that goddamn book. He scanned the tables, went over the few scattered copies lying around. Huh, The Prince by Machiavelli. His grandfather had told him about it, something to consider putting on his list. Not today though.

Nothing, no Hobbit on those tables. Finding this damn thing seemed to be just as tricky as finding an actual hobbit in a cave or wherever those critters lived. He sighed. An all seeing eye would have come in handy right about now.
"Ganz, ganz toll." It was no habit of his to mutter to himself, but when he did, he was usually pretty pissed off.
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Just as he was about to storm off to continue his frustrating search, Maxim heard his name being called. Or rather, whispered, given how quiet the voice was.

"Hm?" He turned around to see Brendan, looking like he was about to suffer a stroke or something of the sort, given the look on his face. Now that was interesting. He barely knew a thing about the boy, except that he had that habit of stuttering and getting flustered quite easily in class. A nervous wreck, something like that. All the more surprising that this guy openly addressed him out here in the public like that, wouldn't have thought he'd be the type.

"Hello." Had he really made it that obvious that he was upset? Damn, if even someone this timid could pick up on that, then he really wasn't doing a good job of not drawing attention to himself. That was regrettable. Even so, he'd at least have the courtesy to assure Brendan that his concern was unfounded, for politeness' sake and all.

"Don't worry, it's all fine. I'm not-"

Just then, as his gaze wandered around the boy's face, Maxim noticed something lying on the table in front of him. Well, not just something, a book; not much of a surprise in a place like this. No, it wasn't just the fact that it was a mere book that caught his attention, but rather, its title. Well, wasn't that convenient?

Maxim looked back at Brendan's face. He really was a nervous mess and to be honest, it was enough to unnerve him a little. He wasn't sure if it was necessarily pity he felt for the boy, but it made him feel something, that much was for sure. Either way, the guy had the book he was looking for, which was both a pleasant surprise and bad news. If he was unlucky, Brendan would occupy it for another few days or so. Unless of course, he somehow persuaded him to give it up to him instead.

"Just, no need to worry for you, alright?" Maxim cleared his throat. "Well, anyway: Mind if I sit down here?" He placed one hand on top of the back of the chair next to Brendan, trying to sound as casual as he could. He could just straight up ask Brendan for the book, of course, but that didn't seem promising. Maybe a little bit persuading was all it took.
Edited by Rorick Skyve, Sep 16 2016, 06:22 AM.
Peoples and Sheeples for V6
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"I'm fine." Maxim tried to sound firm, but not in any way threatening or even annoyed. It was best not to antagonize this one, given what he had in mind.

Brendan's performance was a pitiful one, really. Unless Maxim had some intimidating quality to himself that he had never discovered until now, the other boy's reaction was rather peculiar, to put it simply. Not like he had given Brendan any reason to become nervous. And he had to be honest with himself, had he not been in such an annoyed state after searching for that damn book for ages, he probably would have found this display of shyness sort of oddly charming. Well, almost. The other part of him found it rather bothersome, but either way, he had to somehow obtain that thing Brendan was currently holding.

Maxim slowly sat down, fixing his gaze on Brendan's face the entire time. Yes, he couldn't deny it, he did sort of feel bad. He had probably disturbed the guy's attempt at reading the thing, but oh well. He had to be sure of his priorities. Respecting the other boy's personal space was not one of them at the moment.

"I was just looking around a bit, nothing specific, just looking for a good read." He glanced towards The Hobbit for a split second, then back at Brendan, chewing on his bottom lip. "What are you here for? Doing some research?"
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