authorized borrowing

[namesthesky]

Aya is little used to having the opportunity to set her own priorities, but she likes it. She's not hurting for any material resources, and the organization of the attic would produce those more than anything else; and she has this entire bookshelf closer to hand. So the attic, which may or may not contain ghosts, languishes; and she steadily works through the book collection. Right now she is on the third in a series of myths from the old religion; this volume is about Aelare, the trickster.

Comments

[anotherbreeze]

"Sure."

[namesthesky]

"Why this amount and not that amount?"

[anotherbreeze]

"I don't know. I guess I'm just the kind of person who really, really likes," he waves a hand vaguely, "things like this. Getting drawings of foxes and giving cake."

[namesthesky]

"You get so excited."

[anotherbreeze]

"Seems so."

[namesthesky]

"I started your magpie," she adds. "Before I went downstairs."

[anotherbreeze]

He smiles. Happily.

[namesthesky]

Aya giggles.

[anotherbreeze]

Well in that case, so does he.

[namesthesky]

Aya finishes the magpie the following morning (after having a slice of cake for breakfast). She tucks it under his door.

[anotherbreeze]

Aww!

He puts it up just below the fox - there's room. They can be friends.

[namesthesky]

Aya relaxes a little when he returns unmaimed from dinner. She works her way through an encyclopedia of geography.

[anotherbreeze]

The following day, however...

It's not as bad as what she saw before. But if she keeps an eye on the door into the hall when she notices that he is a little late coming back from dinner, she will be able to catch him coming in with tears in his eyes, moving a little stiffly.

[namesthesky]

(She brought plenty of gauze up, after the first time. She still has it.)

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

[anotherbreeze]

"You could hardly argue I didn't bring it on myself," he points out, rubbing his eyes. "I'll be fine. I'm not sure I'm even bleeding."

[namesthesky]

"Do you want me to check?"

[anotherbreeze]

"Sure," he says. He takes his shirt off and turns his back to her.

Bleeding, no. Bruised, yes. And very heavily, if this is what's showing so soon.

[namesthesky]

"You're not bleeding," she confirms.

[anotherbreeze]

"Thanks," he says wryly. "I'm going to go... cry, probably."

And he heads into his room.

[namesthesky]

"It's - let me know if there's anything I can do," she says, only just loud enough to carry.

[anotherbreeze]

He glances back at her, and then steps into his room and closes the door behind him.

[namesthesky]

Well, that's... whatever it is.

Aya doesn't usually draw people, but she can make a creditable try.

She draws a young woman with silver ink woven into her hair and tucks it under his door.

[anotherbreeze]

Aww.

[namesthesky]

She otherwise leaves him be.

She (carefully, carefully) goes up into the attic and starts looking for things-into-which-other-things-might-be-organized, eventually: shelves, containers of any kind.

[pythbox]

There are shelves, and cabinets, and boxes, and chests. Some have things on or in them; many don't.