Studying hard or hardly studying?(open)

[Arche]

It's a gloomy day outside. A drizzle of rain and cold winds under a boring gray sky make it exactly the sort of day Arche hates being outside on. Also, it's exactly the sort of day she loves to do things such as curl up with a book on. Therefore, here she is in the library.

Arche groans in frustration. She had searched and searched and still not found what she wanted. This library was an incredible place, no doubt. Every imaginable bit of reference material was available somewhere in its vast arrays of dusty tombs and aging manuscripts. No, that was not the problem at all. What she couldn't find was a decent selection of cheap thriller/action novels!

Finally admitting defeat, picks up a copy of "Introduction to Rune Magicks," a book she needs to read for a class by the end of the week, and plops down into one of the library's many plush couches. Why not get a little studying done? It must be fate telling me that I should work! she thinks to herself.

After a few paragraphs, Arche is ready to throw the book across the room. It was so boring and so elementary! And so, lacking suspense novels, she goes and grabs the next best thing she can find: a battered copy of Wizard and Glass by Stephen King. Sneakily, she tucks the book inside her rune textbook and sits back down, pretending to study but actually reading the other book. She doesn't even know why she is pretending or who she is pretending for. Old habit from high school, she supposed.

As time wears on her posture deteriorates until finally she is virtually sprawled across the luxurious couch. While turning a page, gasps slightly as she suddenly feels a sharp pain in her pointer finger tip. A papercut. She idly puts the wounded finger in her mouth rather than bleed on stuff, and continues to read.

[Syril Ænari]

Syril hummed softly to himself, running one finger over the dusty spines of the tomes before him. Peace and quiet were really quite rare for him nowadays; the Academy was a bustling institution, the efficiency with which students were taught took priority over a serene work environment. The halls were always filled with mages rushing from class to class, the training grounds filled with cries and the clash or arms, and even the dormitories always had one or two tenants who saw fit to exercise or practice alchemy at five in the morning. The library was one place which provided a welcome respite.

A crash of thunder interrupted Syril's little tune, and he chuckled softly. Even in this silent sanctuary, there was the wrath of the heavens to contend with. Syril examined his dust covered finger momentarily before rubbing it together with his thumb. Truth be told, his little outing to the library was rather pointless at this point; while Syril enjoyed good literature as much as the next person, this particular library suffered from a distinct lack of pleasure reading. And since none of the reference materials interested him, there really was nothing better to do than wander around looking at titles. And attempt to enjoy the non-existent silence.

Absentmindedly wiping his hand on the skirt of his long coat and leaving a smudge on the white fabric, Syril drifted over to the next shelf, once again trailing his finger along the books, searching for anything that might interest him. A sigh escaped his lips; it was no wonder these books were covered in dust, the lot of them were hopelessly boring. Abandoning the bookshelves, Syril placed his hands on his hips and glanced over to the reading area, where a few students sat enjoying novels. No doubt they had brought them themselves, having known in advance what the library carried. Well that was all well and good for them, but this was Syril's first visit to the library. How was he supposed to know that it contained nothing by academic drudgery?

It was at this point that Syril noticed something odd. Over the back of the couch nearest him, the top of a girl's head was visible; only the top because she was settled so deeply into the couch that it looked like she was trying to become a part of it. This wasn't what caught his attention though; no, what caught Syril's attention was what the girl held in her hands. From this angle, the two books were clearly visible, the one hidden inside the other. In a magical theory class, such a scene would be perfectly normal, but here in the library, it seemed out of place. It piqued Syril's interest; and as thunder boomed outside the window, he approached quietly, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across his face.

Syril wasn't quite sure why he found sneaking up on people so appealing, but he had always been a bit of a practical joker, and was not one to pass up on an opportunity like this one. Lightening his footsteps, Syril took advantage of the ongoing storm outside to approach undetected. Careful not to breathe down the girl's neck and warn her of his presence, Syril leaned in, looking over he shoulder at the four pages of visible text. Should he make a reference to the books? Or perhaps to her terrible posture? Syril decided on the latter. If there was some significant reason why she was trying to hide a copy of Wizard and Glass, it would be impolite to reveal it to the rest of the room. When Syril finally spoke out, it was in a perfectly mild tone, as if he were engaged any normal conversation rather than two inches from the girl's ear.

"Comfortable?"

[Arche]

"Comfortable?" says a calm voice extremely close to Arche's ear. Arche practically jumps put of her skin, quite startled by the sudden utterance. She flushes slightly, not from embarrassment at being startled or anything like that; it's only that she had reflexively reached for her gun, which of course wasn't here. Arche certainly isn't paranoid enough to need to be armed when going to the library, and hopes that no one else is as well. She is slightly ashamed of this violent reflex of hers; this school does strange things to a person. It had been quite subtle, no more than a twitch; she hopes that it goes unnoticed.

Arche regains composure fairly quickly though. She turns her face so that it is facing the very nearby face of her 'assailant.' She flashes up a winning grin that shows white teeth.

"Very comfortable, thank you," she says quietly in a cheerful tone. He really was quite close; if he had had an odor that Arche could detect, she is sure that she could have smelled it. He must have snuck up on her very carefully. Arche had to admit that he had gotten her good, and that she probably would have done the same were positions reversed. "It's not very nice to do that to people who are concentrating on studying, though," she adds jokingly while arching an eyebrow slyly; he had no doubt seen what she was really reading from that angle.

[Syril Ænari]

To Syril's satisfied amusement, his intended target fell for the prank hook line and sinker; the girl must have jumped about a foot in the air. Quickly leaning back on his heels to allow her some breathing room, he returned the cheerful grin in kind, displaying his own dazzling set of pearly-whites. She was taking it well, that was a good thing. Some of the individuals whom Syril snuck up on tended to react rather more... aggressively. But beyond a slight twitch to the right hand, which really could have meant anything, this particular target showed no such signs of hostility. In fact, his grin widened a little at her tongue-in-cheek response; she seemed a quirky sort of girl, and someone well worth matching wits against. Syril's retort was quick to come.

"That’s good to hear. I was afraid you might be trying to integrate yourself into that couch for the sake of experiment; I’m sure some alchemist has already attempted it, and wound up with argyle patterned skin."

Sidling over, Syril perched himself precariously on the armrest a good distance away, gazing down at the girl with a twinkle in his emerald eyes. She was quite the pretty thing, rather slender of frame, with green eyes like his and striking, fiery red hair. However, certain circumstances in Syril's past had resulted in his minimal interest in romance, so he hardly gave the matter any thought.

"So you're studying, eh? This must be for that new literary subterfuge class I keep hearing about. Any chance I could sign up?"

This second joke was a little more subtle; Syril did hope she understood it. If Arche was listening very carefully, she might even understand the veiled request to hook him up with a more interesting book to read.

[Arche]

Arche laughs softly at the man's comment about integrating with the couch. "Oh, the Argyle-patterned alchemist...I could swear that he's in my defensive magic class. Goes by the nickname La-Z-Boy, I think. Or was it Chesterfield?" Arche isn't sure if this guy would be familiar with couch brand names, but she couldn't pass that joke up regardless.

When the man comes around the couch and perches on the armrest, Arche gets her first good look at him. He possesses an almost sculpted delicacy of features and a cheerful demeanor that's very becoming. He contrasts a bit with a lot of the macho-types that seem to occupy the Academy. Coincidentally, it would appear that the two have similar eye color as well.

"As for signing up for the class...It's so clandestine that you might already be enrolled," Arche says while smoothly assuming a sitting position, She reaches over the edge of the couch to where her backpack rests on the floor. Mock-sneakily, she pulls a book out of the bag and places it on the couch near the man. "This should do for a first field assignment...A Study in Binomial Nomenclature of Magical Rodent Subspecies." Of course, tucked inside the boring tome is another book, this one entitled The Gunslinger, the first in the same series as Wizard and Glass. "It's not the best, but it's what they had here to work with."

Arche grins surreptitiously. "Also, you'll need to choose a codename for use on field ops, of course."

[Syril Ænari]

Syril's eyes blinked owlishly for a moment, staring blankly at girl's grinning face. La-Z-Boy? Chesterfield? As it turned out, worldly experience was not one of Syril's strong points, and the brand names of couches sounded quite unfamiliar. That was what one got for being shut up in a cave for most of his life, he supposed. Only too late did he realize that his expression had just completely given away his lack of comprehension, and his inferior position. Oops. This verbal sparring match went to her, as Syril was forced to reply belatedly with a laugh and a nod. Syril wasn't sure whether or not his "opponent" thought of these little games in the same way he did, but in his mind, he had lost this one, and the girl before him had earned his respect.

Now she was talking again, distracting Syril from his thoughts. Ah yes, the second joke. There was hope yet. Still grinning, Syril accepted the book(s), stealthily sliding them across the couch cushions in true cheesy-spy-movie fashion.

"Oho, a field assignment already? I suppose I'd better get to studying then."

Tipping her a broad wink as silent thanks, Syril cracked open the outer book, confirming his suspicions at its contents. Good, the second book contained within was one he hadn't read--it certainly looked interesting enough though. Glancing up at the girl's final words, Syril considered the request for a moment before cracking another grin, and leaning forward on the armrest to extend hand.

"As for a codename, why don't you call me Syril. Everyone does. I don't suppose you'd happen to have a codename of your own?"

[Arche]

Arche laughs a little when he winks. She isn't sure what Syril thinks about conversations like this, but she looks at it as being very much like a dance. She had made a misstep with the sofa joke; going through all the steps isn't worth anything if you don't know who is leading you through them. However, her "partner" had hardly stumbled over Arche's clumsy feet at all in that instance, and glide along smoothly they did. Syril, it would appear, has a degree of prowess on this particular floor.

The storm outside continues in all its ferocity, but its rage is muffled somewhat by the thick, ancient walls of the Academy, reducing its tempestuous anger to a feeble tantrum. "It's good to know you, Syril. You can call me Arche; everyone does." She takes the offered handshake and smiles winningly. "You dance very well. Have you been a student here long?"

(OOC: Sorry it's a little short)

[Syril Ænari]

They say when one shakes hands with another, it can betray a great deal about their personality: when Syril shook Arche's proffered hand, his grip was gentle, rather than the iron grip favored by most men in this day and age.

"The pleasure's mine, Arche."

Once again, the brilliant smile was returned with full vigor. Syril was a little bit confused as to what Arche meant by "dance," but this time, he wasn't about to let it show. She must've been referring to their verbal dialog, but the idea of such an exchange being cooperative was quite alien to him. It was an interesting concept though; eliminating the "win" and "lose" factors in favor of an intricate work composed by both parties. Perhaps Syril had something to learn from the energetic redhead.

Having quickly analyzed the circumstances, only the littlest of beats passed before Syril finished his response.

"Why thank you, you're not half-bad yourself. Actually, I've only been here for a little over a month now; but I can already tell what a huge improvement life at the Academy is over life on Earthside. Now if only they could stock the library with a few more novels, the experience would be complete."

Finishing with a rueful smile, Syril took another moment to consider his own words. A month... had it really been that little? It seemed like so much had happened since he had first arrived on this island in the sky, a lost and confused newcomer. The Combat Exams, and the Battle of Vichy, just to name a couple that were infinitely more entertaining than a job as a secretary. Syril had been dying of boredom down there; discovery by the Academy was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

Too late, Syril realized that he was again making Arche wait. Here he was, reminiscing on his own private affairs when he was supposed to be engaged in conversation! Attempting to smoothly cover his mistake, Syril posed a query of his own.

"And you? How long have you been a member of our fair institution?"

[Arche]

(OOC: Sorry about the inexcusably long delay, there just hasn't been time for anything recently. Also, please ignore the paradoxical nature of the above sentence, aka "excuse me for that which is herein labeled inexcusable, here's my excuse.")

Arche doesn't notice Syril's momentary distractedness, for his indirect reference to extra-Academy existence brings thoughts of home to mind for a moment, distracting Arche as well. She doesn't feel homesick really; the Academy is where she feels she needs to be, but she can't help wondering how the folks are doing.

His question brings her focus back around to the here and now. "Oh, a couple months, not long at all. Fascinating place! Being on the inside here makes me wonder how I ever put up with some of the mundanities of life before enrollment."

Arche stands up and stretches luxuriously, easing away some of the little aches that usually surface when one lounges in the same position for a period of time. Lightning flashes outside the high windows of the reading area, silhouetting one of the higher towers of the Academy. It really was a strange place, with more mysteries than known truths surrounding it. That was the other strong reason that Arche attends the Academy for aside from learning the ways of magic; she would learn the secrets of the world.

Arche turns and faces Syril, and her expression is a tiny bit more serious, but still cheerful. "What do you think of the Academy, Syril?" She looks out the window again, and continues. "I mean, not whether you like it or not, but well...why do they do what they do? It's all very altruistic and transparent on the surface, but I've got this feeling like there's something deeper going on. Not necessarily something bad, but..." Suddenly, Arche feels terrible for dragging such a light conversation down with her brooding "Well, it's just a feeling after all, don't mind me, " she adds, blushing.