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.
"You have time to think about it. Fire's going to take a few months at least, too."
Chew chew swallow. "I thought you were hungry?" she nods at the sandwiches.
She finishes the tangerine, and then checks on the rest of the sandwiches, dithering for a moment - there's a distinct air of 'figuring out what to do' - before using the washcloth as a hot pad to remove them from the oven. She transfers them back to the plate and brings it over to the table.
He hesitates for a moment before taking one of the warmed ones. He looks cautiously at Pradnakt, not quite for permission.
"Go ahead. I'm fine, I've got stuff in back." She turns back to the kitchen without waiting for a reply.
He eats a bit more surely, feeling like her attention isn't on him any more, but still quickly like he's worried it'll be taken away. He still doesn't finish them all before he's full.
She's gone before he's done - tray rinsed and returned to its place, bucket dumped out the front door and returned to its spot under the sink, and bleach and another tangerine nabbed to bring to the back room as she goes.
He tidies the remaining sandwiches, leaving them to cool for now instead of putting them back in the fridge, but does the dishes. After that he looks around the kitchen area a little lost. Pradnakt took the bleach, and the vinegar hadn't been working (well enough).
He looks around, hoping some other job will have magically appeared.
Not especially.
Some of the bins of machine parts are sorted by color, and others aren't. They might be sorted by something less obvious, though.
...he is. Not stupid enough to interfere with something he doesn't understand. He sinks down onto the bench and just...sits, winding his fingers together.
Nothing disturbs him.
The datapad and the drawing supplies are still sitting out on the table.
He stays sat still for quite a while before tugging one of the sheets of paper towards himself, and just starts...doodling. He isn't entirely sure what else to do.
He'll still be keeping a cautious ear and eye on the doors, but...on the whole he'll be distracted by his doodling - attempts at animals, and occasionally, something that vaguely resembles flames.
Eventually, after a couple hours, there's the sound of the speeder pulling up outside.
He stops, putting the pencil down, and folding his hands in his lap, staring at the door.
Daisy comes in after a minute, holding a white paper box; when she sees the plate of sandwiches, she nods approvingly and goes to put it on the counter. "Did you have a good morning, Nova?"
He twists his fingers together, trying to figure out the answer. (It...hadn't been bad, that was certain.) "Yes?"
"Good. These cookies are for you, if you'd like a snack while Pradnakt and I are working - do you want to go out back again while she comes through?"
"I can ask Pradnakt what she thinks about it, but she's still pretty worried about you, she probably doesn't want you doing anything that hard yet."
He bites at his lip. "I- please?" It's not entirely clear what he's saying 'please' about - helping, or going out back while Pradnakt leaves the house.
"All right." She goes to tap on the door to the back, then opens it a bit and has a brief signed conversation.
"You really shouldn't," is the conclusion. "But she says you can come watch, if you want to see some more things like your fire that she can do."
View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post
