02-25-2009, 05:39 PM
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OOC: HAI! 300+
Lubomir Varg was in a bit of a conundrum. He wasn't exactly sure how all this had happened but standing in the doorway of the library, he could feel small waves of despair crashing against the shores of his resolve. Somehow, he'd left the windows opened during the night and rain had washed into the building. He sighed. He should have expected something like this to happen eventually, but he certainly did not think it would be this soon. The grey male hovered on the edge of the door, wary. He could turn around and forget all about this foolish idea, only getting books for himself now and again. Or he could go in and start salvaging what was intact.
Really, there was no option, just a weak excuse. Sighing, he went in and threw his hands up in despair. Water everywhere, and some of the books, placed the night before away from the shelves for stocking, were ruined. He let out a howl of frustration and went to the fireplace. If he could get a fire started, maybe there were some volumes which could still be rescued. The whole process was tiresome and it took a while for the embers to catch again, but soon cheery flames contrasted the wet and gloomy library. Getting up, he went to one of the armchairs, where the water seemed to have come down the most. Lubomir started gathering the wet books. These were beyond any help.
A couple of hours passed and the male had done about half the work. Stretching, he walked to one of the windows and leaned against the windowsill. The sun was shinning again, and he felt annoyed that the weather had wrecked his books like that. Still, no use crying over spilt milk. He'd take a short break, nothing more. Then back to work. For once, he actually needed some help. But really, who could he ask? Mew was the obvious choice, but he knew that her very presence would distract him from work. He would be so enthralled by her scent, her movement, her eyes, that nothing else would matter. With a small smile, he leaned further against the sill and stared at the small town. Wolfville, Dahlia de Mai. Home.
Lubomir Varg was in a bit of a conundrum. He wasn't exactly sure how all this had happened but standing in the doorway of the library, he could feel small waves of despair crashing against the shores of his resolve. Somehow, he'd left the windows opened during the night and rain had washed into the building. He sighed. He should have expected something like this to happen eventually, but he certainly did not think it would be this soon. The grey male hovered on the edge of the door, wary. He could turn around and forget all about this foolish idea, only getting books for himself now and again. Or he could go in and start salvaging what was intact.
Really, there was no option, just a weak excuse. Sighing, he went in and threw his hands up in despair. Water everywhere, and some of the books, placed the night before away from the shelves for stocking, were ruined. He let out a howl of frustration and went to the fireplace. If he could get a fire started, maybe there were some volumes which could still be rescued. The whole process was tiresome and it took a while for the embers to catch again, but soon cheery flames contrasted the wet and gloomy library. Getting up, he went to one of the armchairs, where the water seemed to have come down the most. Lubomir started gathering the wet books. These were beyond any help.
A couple of hours passed and the male had done about half the work. Stretching, he walked to one of the windows and leaned against the windowsill. The sun was shinning again, and he felt annoyed that the weather had wrecked his books like that. Still, no use crying over spilt milk. He'd take a short break, nothing more. Then back to work. For once, he actually needed some help. But really, who could he ask? Mew was the obvious choice, but he knew that her very presence would distract him from work. He would be so enthralled by her scent, her movement, her eyes, that nothing else would matter. With a small smile, he leaned further against the sill and stared at the small town. Wolfville, Dahlia de Mai. Home.