December Library Catch-All [ OPEN ]

[aimsforknees]

WHO: John, Harold, and anyone who might find themselves at the Library
WHEN: December
WHERE: The Library!
WHAT: The Library is here and open to all! Come borrow books, find a comfy chair to relax in, or snoop around.
NOTES\WARNINGS: Will be added as they come up

The Library is a five-story neoclassical building of terra cotta, brick, and stone. And the inside is, in fact, a library! And rather clean and organized too. There's no dust, no muddy footprints (apart from your own), and all the shelves are organized by Dewey Decimal, subject, and author. All literature is something you might find in a 2010 New York City library: various forms of fiction, children's and teens' sections, history, science, cooking, gardening, the list goes on. There's even small sections of audiobooks on compact disks and of DVDs ranging from old classics to history shows. The first floor has a reading/study room, a comfortable space with deep armchairs and tables with chairs; the fifth floor has some smaller tables clustered under a skylight. Part of the second floor is abruptly closed off by a door with a biometric scanner that denies entry to anyone who isn't John Reese or Harold Finch; the walls surrounding this section are soundproofed, so even a keen listener won't hear anything from inside. Otherwise, it's a perfectly normal library!

Comments

riz gukgak | ota!!

[stresstokens]

i. first-aid training.

[ The first thing Riz sets to find in the library are texts that can be of any actual use to him. What you may find him gathering are an assortment of different books, all about the ins and outs of emergency first-aid and general survivalist guides, filled with everything from ways to survive an icy blackout to the unlikely eventuality of sinking in some quicksand. The pile of books in his arms keep piling up and up and up until he eventually collapses at a table with a stack of them and spreads them out in front of him, accompanied by a notebook for him to scribble notes in.

Ignore the bit of ink smeared on his lip. He's been gnawing on his pen. If you approach him, he'll glance up and say, completely out of nowhere: ] Did you know that more professionals die mountaineering than amateurs?

[ That's it. That's all you're getting out of him for that cheery greeting. He's immediately distracted by his book again. ]

ii. voracious reader.

[ Later, he goes back for more reading that isn't necessarily important on the basis of survival. You can catch him with a tower of books, filled with an assortment of specialties, though they're predominantly non-fiction save for a certain predilection towards detective novels and science-fiction. He seems as pleased as a pig in muck combing through all of the aisles until he pauses at a book entitled: THE PRINCESS AND THE GOBLIN, with a rather unflattering depiction on the cover. ]

...is this what everyone meant when they said we're fictional in their world? [ He mutters, turning it over to read the description. ] When a peaceful kingdom is menaced by an army of monstrous goblins, a brave and beautiful princess joins forces with a resourceful peasant boy to rescue the noble king and all his people... oh, brother.

iii. catnap.

[ Typically speaking, Riz isn't one to fall asleep in public spaces. He's not one to fall asleep at all, frankly, but something about this place lends itself to it, between his own sleepless nights, the excessively comfortable armchair, and the book having fallen forgotten on the armrest he's currently curled into. Riz looks smaller (even smaller, if that's possible) and younger asleep, the perpetual line between his brows slackened in sleep, mouth slightly ajar with breathy snores, face pressed straight into a button that's almost certainly going to leave a mark.

He looks a little chilly, with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and his necktie hanging loose around his neck, jacket having been long-since discarded. You can offer him a blanket, or shake him awake so he can get some sleep in an actual bed, or hell, you can scare him awake if you want to! It could be funny, at least in the few seconds between wakefulness and you getting your hand bit. Pick your poison! ]

iii. catnap.

[aimsforknees]

[ John used to make noise when he walked around the Library, back in New York when he was trying not to surprise Harold. Now he moves silently, ghosting through the building so he can pass unobserved by anyone else who might be here. Today he gets back from a run with Bear and goes to leave him with Harold and fetch his book, intending to take up his vigil in the reading room. He pauses in the doorway when he sees the sleeping form of Riz Gukgak. His first instinct is to turn around and leave him be, but there's something so... small and innocent about the situation that stops him.

He and Harold have discussed their displeasure about the number of children apparently here. It seems unimaginable to them to put that sort of weight on their shoulders, to put them in such dangerous situation. It doesn't matter that Riz is training to become an adventurer, he shouldn't be in this position.

John does leave, but only to fetch a fleece blanket from their emergency supplies. He returns, equally as silent, and gently lays the blanket on the kid. When he doesn't stir, John takes up a spot in an armchair that's close to the door, a spot that's easy for him to intercept anyone approaching. Then he opens his book (The Science of Structures and Materials) and settles in to read. ]

[stresstokens]

[ Shock of all shocks, when a blanket is gently laid upon him, Riz doesn't stir a bit. Maybe he needed the sleep more than he thought, lost for once not in the torment of a nightmare, but a peaceful, dreamless slumber, as though he'd simply fallen asleep at his desk or on the couch back home. The sensory memory of it all, of worn furniture and a drafty room, of dim lighting and of quiet, is so strong that once he does return to wakefulness, there's a moment where he forgets himself.

He's not here in Etraya. He's home where he belongs, family photographs hanging on the walls, loved secondhand books perched upon thrifted bookshelves, the familiar creaking of Strongtower Luxury Apartments a blanket of sound around him, and most importantly... ]

Ma...?

[ He's woken up like this a hundred times. Who else would make sure he's warm while he sleeps? Who else wakes him with a warm smile, a kind voice ringing out, hey kiddo, wanna try sleeping in a bed for once?

And then reality sets in as he glances down at the unfamiliar blanket and someone who is absolutely not his mother is seated right across from him. He grimaces, tugging his knees closer to his chest as he colours in embarrassment, most prominent at the tips of those long ears of his where the green of his skin isn't quite so vibrant, tinged with scarlet. ]

Oh, shit, uh --

[ He clears his throat. He's lost all credibility. He's never going to pass as an experienced adventurer if he goes around falling asleep and calling for his Mommy. ]

I didn't mean to fall asleep here, [ he mumbles, rubbing some sleep out of his eye. ]

[aimsforknees]

[ John has seen his fair share of soldiers crash out only to wake up disoriented about where they are, so he doesn't react at all to Riz's sleepy question apart from looking up from his book. That and the embarrassment really drive home the fact that he's just a kid, even if he's learning all sorts of dangerous things at his academy. ]

There's no rule saying you can't sleep at the library. It's a safe place.

[ It's a safe place because John enforces that, but he doesn't need to mention that. ]

[stresstokens]

That's not...

[ Riz's eyes dart to the side. That's not the biggest problem. The biggest problem was that being caught lacking in public and then calling some guy Mom is deeply, horrendously embarrassing not only on a professional level, but also on a natural, normal teenaged level. It's the sort of thing you do once in fourth grade and then never again.

He grimaces. ]

I think it's kind of a stretch to call any place around here safe, [ he counters. ] But especially not public buildings like this one. This isn't really -- this isn't what I do.

[ Let his guard down. Sleep in public. Sleep in general, actually. He should have at least only fallen asleep around someone else that had his back.

Though in a funny way, he supposes he did; though he doesn't know John well enough to trust him, he certainly has no reason to believe he'd get anything out of attacking some random kid in the library. ]

voracious reader

[godkaru]

[You know who Hikaru hasn't seen since the whole 'possessed by romance partner and forced to fight against her will'?

She hasn't gotten the chance to properly apologize, mostly because she's... Been a little nervous to. She was looking for anything interesting when she hears that voice and peeks around. Hikaru's got her mouth open to say something, and then hears that.]

...That sounds like a really one sided story.

[stresstokens]

[ Hikaru had been on the list of people Riz wanted to apologize to. Honest, she was. It was just... he hardly knew her. He hardly knew her, and for no fault of her own, she was dragged into his mess. He knows other could argue that it was a mess of this place's making, but Riz knows better.

Baron only exists because of his lies. Apparently Baron only exists because he can't get his shit together, if everything that had happened is of any indication. Baron wants him to confront himself, and he just -- can't do it. And other people were the ones who paid the cost of that.

He keeps himself from wincing when he hears her voice, but only just, a pang of guilt lancing through his chest. ]

Well, what else is new? [ He says, forcing himself to inject some levity into his voice as he tosses the book back on the shelf. ] I just wasn't expecting it here, of all places.

[ His brow creases, unable to keep his concern from showing on his face. ]

...hey, Hikaru. It's been a while, huh?

[godkaru]

[The whole encounter was a blur of unhappiness and fear for her - fear that she'd hurt her friend, that maybe she couldn't snap out of it as easily as she had Caldina's spell.

But all the same, she'd not gone seeking Riz out immediately after, in case he wanted the space. But here he is, and she smiles gently at him.]

It has been. You've been resting?

[stresstokens]

No, no, if I'm resting, something's gone terribly wrong, [ Riz says with a little huff of a laugh, leaning back on his heels as he tries to figure out how to tackle this particular interaction. Nothing for it but to just do the damn thing, he decides. ] I've been -- you know, there's always stuff to do here.

[ There's not. But he makes damn sure that there is something to do, or else he'll drive himself insane. ]

I'd actually been meaning to reach out and talk, I just... you know. [ It had felt deeply awkward, and he didn't know how to begin. His attempt with Accelerator hadn't gone all that well either. ] But if you have time now? There's lots of, like, quiet sitting areas here and stuff.

first aid

[nobraincell]

[There's an extra seat or two at that table, so Chu Wenshan comes up with his very small collection of books on how to talk to people, critical thinking skills for dummies, etc...and then gets hit with a question out of the blue.

He blinks, tilts his head, and replies,] Because they picked harder mountains?

[stresstokens]

Nope! The fatality rates are gauged across the same mountains. The reason is all down to ego, [ Riz says, tapping one finger to his forehead. ] Maybe ego is the wrong word... basically, if you're not used to dangerous situations, you'll naturally practice more caution, and you'll be more in tune with your own body. People who are used to just pushing through it are more likely to push through it, all the way to their own demise.

[ Factually speaking, Riz could learn a thing or two from this. But even if the expert mountaineers don't have an ego, Riz does; surely the idea of ignoring your own limitations leading directly to your death doesn't apply to him.

(To his friends though, certainly. That, he can see.)

He glances at Chu Wenshan's own stack of books, eyes landing on one in particular. ]

...is your book useful too?

[ How to talk to people, specifically. Riz is very good at talking. Talking to other people is a more questionable part of his skillset. ]

[nobraincell]

[As someone who has deflected exploding dams while actively bleeding out, Chu Wenshan's idea of ignoring personal limitations is incredibly skewed, but he nods nonetheless.]

That makes sense. You shouldn't ignore your own body.

[As for his book stack...he looks down at them, then up at the green guy. (Gorgug?)]

Haven't read it yet. It looked useful though...I seem to say the wrong thing a lot.

[stresstokens]

Ugh, me too, [ Riz says, falling forward a little to cradle his cheek on the heel of his hand, nothing but deep empathy for Chu Wenshan's plight written over his face. ] You think that you're being helpful, and then you're like, super-not, and then you try to figure out the rules and then you find out that's the wrong move too.

[ He tried to follow the rules, really, he did. But then that was deemed 'creepy' and 'dude why are you just reading off of a script' and 'why are you just standing there'. ]

What're your missteps?

[ Maybe asking questions like this is why Riz needs a guide. ]

catnap

[tinflower]

[ There were books that Gorgug hadn't thought to get in the latest spending of his points, and actually, it was an important area of study that Gorgug can't just search through his artificer books for: plumbing. He wanted to ask the companion bots some advice, but after a recent chat with Fabian and the latter's disapproval of the bots, Gorgug's maybe thinking his way around that, or if it's even worth it. Friends come first, and what's the worst that can happen if he tries adjusting the apartment's plumbing all by himself?

... he'll try it in a different, empty apartment first. Of course.

But, before that: books. A couple of them, since there's no knowing which will be the better read. He checks the choices down the DIY section, but also takes his time going through the different aisles of bookcases, and it's by chance that Gorgug finds Riz--and even, for a split second, thinking it might be another goblin.

Wouldn't that be a first?

What's a longer thought, once his mind decides that it is Riz, is if Riz is okay, to see him still. Oh, so still. Gorgug moves on slow footsteps, quieter than he usually is; his books stacked up against the crook of an arm and his chest, their different sizes more annoying than their way. A bookcase blots out the world behind them, with Gorgug closer to it than Riz. Because while he's getting closer, he isn't sure if to approach him when he's sleeping so peacefully. Because a peaceful Riz is a good thing. A rare thing.

(And maybe, too, it has to do with that tension that seems to exist around them: one that can't be seen, one that isn't even heavy, and yet. Gorgug ntoices it any time that Riz comes near him, the way that Riz speaks with his usual cheerful disposition. Is it from Riz? Is it from Gorgug himself?

Because There's nothing wrong is what the scene itself says. But Riz never climbs on him. Riz rarely touches him, and Gorgug--

he pretends not to notice. He lets nothing but that statement exist.)

A library is the perfect spot for slumber, unless someone should think to interrupt him, Gorgug thinks. And that won't do. He looks around, wondering about leaving some kind of message--just while he checks out the rest of the selections--and takes a small book out from the shelf behind him. Awkwardly, he sets it on top of the books he has and spreads his hand across the top, imprinting a temporary message over it that the designated libraries might not like to see. But still-

'Please don't wake me.
I deserve a break'

It's a thoughtful thing, really. Unfortunately, it's also the reason that he doesn't get what he wants for Riz. Because the way Gorgug grabs it in his hand causes the couple immediately under it to drop, and in trying to reach for them before they can land, he sends the next few clattering to the ground loudly with them.

And so, this is the scene: Gorgug, in the middle of moving forward (like he's coming in Riz's direction) with a narrow book in his outstretched hand, and Riz in his seat.

No one else. Just them. ]

[stresstokens]

[ For once, Riz is deep in a dreamless sleep. He's always been prone to nightmares, even when he was a child, well before anything actually bad had ever happened to him; some combination of poor dietary habits and an overactive brain always had his brain conjuring up the strangest circumstances when given half a chance. All Riz ever wants when he sleeps is nothing but beloved, blessed black, something that has finally been bestowed upon him after weeks of restless slumber and rumpled sheets, weeks of nightmares not about a lurking cat in the night, but something much closer to home. It's the sort of thing you don't fess up to, not even to yourself. Admitting to it would mean admitting that there's a problem. Admitting to the problem would mean having to admit he doesn't know what to do about it.

Perhaps that's why when he's jolted back to wakefulness, some quiet corner of his brain is insistent that this too is a dream. It's straight out of his nightmares: Gorgug, broad, friendly face obscured in the dim lighting of the library, looming over him as he's caught unawares (the one thing Rogues should never do is sleep in public, goddamn it), huge hand outstretched towards him to -- what? To strike, to throttle, to hurt.

The Bad Kids already know that he gets jumpy when you wake him up, rattled and paranoid at the best of times, but the spasm of fear the crosses Riz's face as he wakes up, narrow pupils expanding until they practically swallow up the entirety of his irises, is unlike any way they've seen him before. He's numb to all active thought, every single cell in that big brain of his silenced by pure instinct.

Fabian's leadership had prevented him from caving to instinct when it came to the final showdown. Without Fabian at his back to bolster him, he's left to do the only natural thing: run. He scrambles backwards, a high, rumbling keen bubbling in the back of his throat as an undertone to his hissing, his baring of teeth as he tries to escape, the chair he'd previously been cozily curled up upon tipping over in his haste to get away. He's left in a heap on the ground, though he's quick to stumble to his feet, hands running over his torso as he darts away; he needs his sword, he needs his gun -- no, no, it's a dream, he's dreaming, he's --

He can't breathe. He can always breathe in his dreams. ]

[tinflower]

[ Gorgug won't blame Riz. Gorgug doesn't blame Riz, or he wouldn't, if in that moment, Gorgug could immediately assess Riz's reaction--from the one across his face, to the one he takes on hands and feet--in any clear-headed manner.

But Gorgug can't. Because his head isn't clear, from the instant he sees the expression that unfurls across Riz's face. That's fear, and it's a look at that freezes every muscle inside Gorgug, to his brain and the section that would tell him it would be better to take back his hand. But by the time he can think of that, Riz is already darting off; and Gorgug retreats his hand back to his side with the book, his mind still blank, or numb. Staring at a floor and scattered books he doesn't see, his heartbeat racing in his chest.

It's okay. If a thought could manage to thread itself together and be, that would be the one that Gorgug would make. It's okay. There's a mess he's made on Harold's floor, but his feet turn him away from the mess and the direction that Riz went in, as his body takes control in deciding what has to happen: and that's Gorgug leaving. As soon as he can find a spot to put the books he still has on him somewhere, settle them down, and then he can go. Quiet, hunched, a figure of over 6 feet doing his best not to exist in the world around him, and it kinda works, in his experience. A lot of the times, he gets in the way; but even then, people live with things like bookcases. You just have to put them in a place where nobody thinks about them, and most kids really don't give a shit about a bookcase. He had that thought once, comparing his ever growing height to the furniture around him as a kid.

But now, the direction he follows is unlike a thought decided by his brain, but by something more bone-deep, instinctual. Leave, it tells him, and he will. Back out the way he came without saying a soul to anyone. ]

[stresstokens]

[ He was bound to slip up sometime, wasn't he? Things were fine with Gorgug, because they had no reason not to be fine. Gorgug had been through a big, horrible, awful, scary thing, and so had Riz, but it's not like they did it to each other. Not really. Not in any way that matters. So any lingering fear was supposed to be Riz's to deal with, much like he assumes Gorgug felt about his own ordeal (or so he'd gleaned from Gorgug's tepid attempts at gratitude as he and Fabian badgered him, and badgered him, and badgered him, and badgered him). As long as Riz had his wits about him, he could have it well figured out.

He wasn't planning on his fucking subconscious tricking him into the worst possible thing he could do. As the fear abates and he catches his breath with some difficulty, what had just happened sets in. And what makes an even bigger impression is the fact that Gorgug hadn't -- he didn't reach out to Riz to say it was just him, to make sure Riz knew that he wasn't dreaming, or to, he doesn't know, say something like dude we have got to get you off the caffeine. He's just leaving, shoulders hunched and head hung low like Riz had just slapped him across the face, and he can't bear it. Not Gorgug, who had already spent the first year he'd known him seemingly pretending to be smaller and weaker than he is. ]

Fuck!

[ He yanks at his hair, willing the fear to abate, then darts out of his hiding place, sprinting directly towards his friend. ]

Gorgug! Gorgug, wait! I didn't -- I was half-asleep, I didn't realize --

[ Is that any better? Hey, I thought I was dreaming about you, and it was scary! ]

I'm sorry I freaked out.

voracious reader

[clavesregni]

[Caitlyn has been wandering curiously through the stacks picking out non-fiction books about cold cases. Unsolved murders, mysterious disappearances, the sorts of things that make her brain start ticking into overdrive. She likely won't be able to actually solve any of them, not simply from reading a book. But part of her can't help but think that she might, in fact, be able to.

She's reading the summary of a book about a shark that spat up a human arm when she hears someone complaining nearby, and sticks her head around the nearest shelf.]

What are goblins?

[Caitlyn has neither seen a goblin nor heard the word before. Is that what this young man is? To her, he looks essentially like a small, green-skinned human with long, pointed ears. She's fairly certain that, goblin or no, there's nobody quite like him in her world.]

so sorry for the long wait, holidays ate me alive!

[stresstokens]

What are Goblins...?

[ This is a new one for Riz, actually, and one that he anticipated running into far sooner than nearly a year into this place. When others reported that their worlds didn't have Goblins in it, he expected to have to give a history lesson or two - or to at least explain that that's what he was - but lo and behold, much like this book, Goblins seemed to conceptually exist everywhere.

Just... with unflattering portrayals. It's fine. He's used to it. But having someone come in with an entirely blank slate is actually a little refreshing. ]

Me. I'm a Goblin. [ He says, pointing at himself, then he taps on the cover. ] And so are these supposed to be, but this is more of an -- offensive caricature, I'd say? [ He shrugs. ] We're not super different from other humanoids.

no worries!

[clavesregni]

[Caitlyn comes out from behind the shelf, her stack of true crime books clutched to her chest, close enough to the young man that she can look more closely at the picture he's showing her. It portrays creatures that look arguably a little like him, if much more hunched and bug-eyed and, well, unpleasant-looking. If they're meant to be the same species as he is, the artist appears to have got it bafflingly wrong.]

Is that the sort of book you like reading?

[She glances at the rest of the books he's got, noticing that titles seem to slant more towards murders and... space? But perhaps he's looking to branch out.]

I'm sure there must be ones like it that are more accurate. [And she's prepared to help him find one, if that's what he'd like.]

[stresstokens]

Nah, not at all. I'm more of a non-fiction kinda guy. Honestly, I'm more of a podcast guy, but I have more time to read around here.

[ Riz is the sort of person who tries to cram as much information in-between his ears at all times. If he can have an audiobook or a podcast on in the background while he gets other stuff done, all the better; rarely does he afford himself the time to actually sit down and read a book without looking for a specific tidbit he thinks will be of some tangible help to him.

But hey, he's got time. And there's a library, and he loves to read, and... well, it seemed worth the perusal. He glances Caitlyn over (she seems nice, he thinks, and not overtly judgmental considering she's probably never seen anyone like him before), then smiles at her. ]

I talked to some other people here? About worlds like my own and the people who live in them being fictional. So once this place popped up... I figured I'd check out the Fantasy section and see what kinds of things they were talking about.

[ Delicately, he places the book back on the shelf. ]

Mainly I've learned that elves have better PR.

ii

[maximumlegend]

[ Of course Fabian is here because of Riz. Why else would he be in a library of all places here - and even more so with how Fabian just hasn't seemed very energetic or very much like himself lately. Maybe that's why he just decided to tag along with his friend to the library, because you get sick of doing nothing but training after a while.

.. though Fabian isn't really sure what to do now he's here. He doesn't really feel like looking for books for himself, leaving him lingering around Riz, taking a look at the stuff he's picking and helping him carry some of it around. ]

Damn, dude.

[ Apparently that's Fabian's initial reply to what Riz is reading out loud here. It doesn't sound too surprised - but given the general idea a whole lot of people have of goblins in Spyre, it's not like it's too surprising to see a book like that even here. ]

Do they think that about goblins even all the way over here? [ So little changes, apparently.. ] I thought 'The Princess and the Goblin' at least implied the goblin and the princess were going to.. you know.

[ Don't look. He's making an obscene hand gesture.

Sorry, Riz. The presence of a teenage boy means you have to deal with two unpleasant topics at once now. Racism and dumb teenage horny stuff!! ]

[stresstokens]

Ew.

[ Riz likes to think that his relative disinterest in women is something that he keeps a pretty tight lid on, but when Fabian's out there doing that in conjunction with the image on the cover --

Ugh. Riz would rather be a monster any day. He slaps at Fabian's hands ineffectually. ]

Don't be gross. [ He can at least pass it off as having a literary aversion to written smut, no matter how much Fig or Kristen might cackle in his ear about whatever nonsense they've decided to read. ] It's not what this place thinks about us, it's -- remember when I told you about how other worlds know about our species, but only as fiction? We're in the fantasy section. This is how we exist, uh, fictionally.

[ He wrinkles his nose. ]

People've told me what their worlds say about Goblins, and it's nothing good. But elves... [ His fingers dance along the shelf until he comes up with a new book. An elf is on the cover, and he's very, very shirtless. ]

It's mostly about how, uh, f-ff-- fuckable you guys are.

[ There. He said that smoothly, like a normal teenaged boy. He's not sweating. You're sweating. Shut up. ]

[maximumlegend]

[ Riz is being so very normal right now.

It helps that all these reveals are very much distracting Fabian from any nuances Riz may be showing over here, so that stammer goes right over his head. Especially since he's very, very busy looking at this cover--

And letting out a laugh that's practically a snort. It's that funny. Mostly because Fabian is thinking: ]

You can tell these people have never met Gilear. [ That man is more elf than Fabian is, Riz! And he's--

You know. Gilear is just about the diametric opposite of what they're watching here. That's why it's so funny. ]

Though this guy on the cover does kind of look like me, right? [ Fabian may or may not be dramatically posing to try and match the energy at this point.. Which is at least better than what he was doing before, but only because anything is better than to make dumb jerking off motions with his hand instead, clearly. ] They should be writing these about half-elves, that's where it's at!

[stresstokens]

Gilear's an anomaly. I didn't know that full elves could bald before I met him.

[ Half-elves though? Absolutely. Take good care of that mop of yours, Fabian! You might well wind up like Gilear if you don't! At the very least, Riz is relieved to hear Fabian spin it into a joke instead of having to linger on the fuckability of it all, or Fabian's inclination to get his kisses in, or the virtues of erotic novels or other dangers. Pulling it out had been a risky gambit on Riz's part, but he's pleased to see it paid off. ]

Not that bald is bad! People can pull off bald! Just...

[ Not Gilear. And Riz likes Gilear. Maybe it would help if he gave up and shaved it all off instead of holding onto those three strands of hair for dear life. Which is much nicer to think about than Fabian's resemblance or lack thereof to the stoic figure on the cover of the book Riz is holding, which he slaps back on the shelf like it's burned him. ]

Anyway, I don't think you look like this guy? I don't know if you'd want to. He's kinda... smooth? It's weird. [ ...anyway! ] I saw a couple books about half-elves, but it's mainly about how terrible their lives are and about how everyone's mean to them? It's, like, a thing.