It's a nice library, especially for such a small town, with plenty of everything, but a focus on science and poetry, a well-appointed children's' section, a nice selection of music and holovids, and comfy chairs offering varying amounts of privacy.
Right now, though, it's closing time; the announcements have been made, the final checkout rush handled, and now the librarian is making one last check before she locks up for the night.
He flinches violently, and only just manages to stop the bucket from going flying.
"I- sorry. M'sorry. I-" He ducks his head, hurrying to switch the datapad off, before turning to give Pradnakt his full attention.
The bucket seems oddly stable in his hands; it resists being moved, just a little, and definitely doesn't tip or slosh as much as it should. As soon as he has it back under control, though, the effect passes.
"Have you eaten?" She can't help being intimidating - she's tall, and carries herself with a degree of self-assurance that would be a little daunting to anyone. The all-black outfit doesn't help, either, even softened as it is by the swirl of silver stars running up the sides. But she's not being aggressive in the least, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe with her arms crossed casually across her chest and regarding him with a calm, almost companionable curiosity.
He bites at his lip and shakes his head - he hadn't really been hungry when he woke up.
...Had Daisy asked him to eat something when he woke up? He can't remember. He twists his fingers together slightly. "I- forgot?" (He's not sure why he's admitting that, but she asked if he'd eaten, and he doesn't want to lie, lying was bad.)
He has to think about that, a little, before giving a hesitant nod. "I- yes? If that's- alright?"
"Of course it is," she says lightly. She gets out the sandwiches, transfers the almond butter and jelly ones to another plate, and pours a glass of milk to bring over with them.
He's not sure how to take that - on the one hand, he's used to being given food, rather than getting it himself, but it feels somehow...different, here, with Pradnakt giving him this. But...
"Thank you," he says very quietly as he takes the sandwiches.
"You're welcome."
She steps behind him to get to the bucket, dropping it off on the floor away from the table on her way back to the kitchen, where she begins moving the rest of the sandwiches to a cookie sheet. "Are you settling in okay?"
He goes tense as she steps behind him, and half wants to argue when she moves the bucket. (But he isn't sure how to argue with her about it.)
He twists his fingers together when she asks the question. "I- yes?"
"Good." Sandwiches go in the oven, and she grabs a tangerine from the fridge and sits across the table from him. "Did you have any questions for me?"
His mind goes almost completely blank. (Even if it hadn't, he probably wouldn't have asked the questions anyway.)
He's sure he had questions (so many whys).
He shakes his head, a little slowly.
"All right. If you do, Daisy can bring them to me, if she doesn't know herself. I'm sure this wasn't what you were expecting."
He nods - he's not entirely sure what he was expecting (hard work, pain, that), but this... is definitely not it.
"As you say," he agrees quietly. "I- thank you for-" (For what? He doesn't know how to finish that sentence.)
She nods, and chews on a tangerine slice while she thinks about what to say next.
"It's important for you to understand that what happened to you isn't okay," she settles on. "It's not surprising, either, there's plenty of bullshit in the world, but it's okay to want better, and to try and make things better. And it's okay to stop people from hurting you, even if you have to hurt them to do it. You're allowed to do that. It's the right thing to do, even, if you want to - it's good that you got away, you should be proud of yourself for managing it."
He bites at his lip, twists his fingers together a bit tighter. He doesn't know how to take that.
"I- yes ma'am," he sounds confused, but also, the tiniest bit thoughtful.
That gets him a bit of a grin.
"Your fire knows it isn't okay. You always had the most trouble with it when things were worst, right? And I'm sure that was frightening, but it wasn't wrong."
"I'm the same kind of thing. I don't do fire specifically, but -" she holds her hand out so he can see, and lets a bit of lightning play across her palm and spark between her fingers.
"...oh..." He stares at her hand, eyes widening in awe, clearly more enchanted and enthralled than scared by it.
"Yeah." She flexes her hand under the sparks, and they go from yellow to blue, then green, then orange. "You can learn to do that, too, if you're here long enough."
He doesn't even realise that he's started to smile at the display. He half-shakes his head, mostly in disbelief. (He can't control his fire, how would he ever manage this?)
"As you say," he murmurs quietly. (That feels...like a long way off. Like too far ahead to even consider.)
"I know a couple years seems like forever at your age." She flexes her hand under the sparks again and lets them dissipate. "And that's fine; if you just want to get your fire under control and move on, I won't stop you. But if you want to learn more than that, it's an option."
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