Who: Clio, Aine, and Michael Silvus(Open!) Where: The New York City Public Library When: Midday
Carrie brushed her loose bangs from her face as she stared down at the list of books she was supposed to be tracking down and putting away. She was, for once, not hidden among the shelves, but at one of the main counters in the public library. She hated standing here. Humans always came up asking ridiculous questions about some sort of book or where to get somewhere else in the city. Useless information. Couldn’t any of them take the time to appreciate the building they were in? Or perhaps even pull an old leather bound book off the shelf and go hide at a table to read their day away? She supposed that was wishful thinking, and she shook the idea out of her head as her fingertip raced down the page, her nails plain and bitten short. She wasn’t one for pampering herself.
Carrie fit the librarian image perfectly, with her black-rimmed glasses, messy bun, black knee length skirt and a white blouse. The only “relaxed” bit about her outfit was the first few buttons of her blouse were undone and a pair of black pumps covered her feet, adding a few inches to her five foot five inch frame.
“Carrie?” A voice questioned and she had to try not and role her eyes. She pushed herself off of the wooden counter and turned, only to see it was a fellow librarian, an older woman who was always nice enough.
“Jane?” She asked back, lifting a hand to tuck one of her rebellious strands of hair back from her face, her pink lips parting a bit as she rested her lower back against the edge of the counter, hoping she wasn’t bending any pieces of paper between her body and the wood.
“I was just wondering if you had found Napoleon Bonaparte’s biography yet? I have a school teacher wondering where it is,” The old woman asked sweetly, and Carrie couldn’t help but give a small smile, pushing herself away from the counter to a cart filled with about 50 books that she had been meaning to put away.
“Yes, I did find it. Hiding on a back table, I’m afraid,” She said to the books as she ran her fingertip along the spine, before quickly locating the book and pulling it from the cart. Napoleon, she thought and smirked to herself. Wasn’t he a character. “Just make sure they’re careful. This book is getting more worn each time I see it,” She said with a heavy sigh, turning to gently hand the book to Jane.