"And stay there," says the other guy, on the floor below him.

"Hey!" says Duck. Her volume is sort of questionable for someone in a library. "You can't just lock people up down here!"

He attempts to lock the door. She shoves him - a moment too late, the door is solid and locked up tight, but it's a pretty good shove.

—huh. He thinks he recognizes that voice. Where's she been all week, anyway?

He abandons his half-finished book and starts moving toward the sound of the argument.

Once she's exhausted the element of surprise, the girl is very obviously outclassed. In a few seconds, Fakir has grabbed her arms and pinned her to a nearby wall.

"You're that girl from earlier," he says, calm but still decidedly scary. "Whatever you think you know, you don't."

"I know you can't just lock people up for no reason!" returns Duck, trying and failing to hide the fact that she's sort of terrified. Apparently this is not the sort of moment where she gets her magic dance powers, and he's significantly stronger than her and already locking his friends in closets.

—yeah that doesn't sound good. He skips the stairs and just leaps over the railing and down to the lower floor, then bolts around the corner and charges straight into the boy who has his friend pinned to a wall.

"Hey, get away from my—"

"—ow," he says, remembering a moment too late that he punched a tree last week and his hand has not quite fully recovered and should not be used for punching things again so soon.

No, okay, focusing. "—friend!"

Fakir is very nearly knocked over for the second time in as many minutes.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"Wha - oh, hi Serafin!"

"Hi Duck! Ow. I really need to learn to think before I hit things."

"Yeah, maybe," she says, laughing nervously, and then she remembers that there are other really important things she has to worry about. "He locked someone in the closet here."

"You have no idea what's happening here," says Fakir.

"Did you lock somebody in a closet though? And if so, uh, why?"

Fakir laughs tiredly, as if the entire concept of having to explain himself to them is faintly absurd. 

"Now that the situation has escalated, more extreme measures are necessary. You'll only make it worse by interfering. He doesn't need your help."

"S-so - you know that Mytho doesn't have a heart?"

"And doesn't need one. You would do well to go back to whatever it was you were doing before."

"—hey, wait, are you the person who's been scattering emotions all over the place where people can trip on them and get hurt?"

"Of course not," mutters Fakir. "The two of you clearly have no idea what's happening. Which is good, it doesn't concern you."

"Like hell it doesn't! I almost burned Mr. Cat's house down and broke my hand trying to fight a tree!!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong," says Fakir, before stalking off.

Serafin glares furiously after him for a moment.

But, no longer being possessed by a magical embodiment of pure anger, he is capable of focusing on other priorities. He turns back to Duck. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely!" Her arms kind of hurt from being slammed into a wall just now, but hey, it's whatever. "Thanks for helping! Uh, Mytho's still in this closet though."

He eyes the closet. "...What is with these two? That other guy's always hauling this one around and apparently sometimes locking him in closets, it's weird."