eggos | (no subject)

Eleven likes the library. She likes learning, and she likes knowing and understanding things. She's not a stupid person. She learns 'remarkably quickly,' according to her teachers, which she thinks is a good thing, even if they always seem surprised when they say it. Right now, she has a stack of books about a variety of different topics, and she's sitting in a corner by herself, leafing through them. It's not homework. It's just... studying. For fun.

She's learning about cats, right now. She has one at home that she needs to take care of, and she wants to learn everything she can about them so she knows she's doing the best she can for him. The book she's reading keeps referencing another book, though. A different book, one not in her stack. She sighs and sets it aside, then stands and starts looking through the shelves for the right title.

There it is. She reaches for it, then frowns. It's just out of reach, not more than six inches. She glances around for a stool or a ladder, but there isn't one immediately in range. She waits a few seconds, to see if any library staff walks by. Nothing. She sighs.

Looking back up at the book she needs, Eleven frowns at it. She debates for a second or two on if she should even use her powers. A step onto the shelf would do the trick, probably. But she doesn't know if it'll support her weight. She's not large, but she's not a book, either. Finally, she reaches up for it again.

It flies into her outstretched hand and she grips it, then opens it right there and starts flipping through the pages, without even bothering to look around to see if anyone had noticed.

Threaded | Flat

Harrow still hasn't forgiven them for the post-disappearance insult of charging her fines for books they hadn't even been available to receive, but unless and until she enrolls at Barton, the Darrow Public Library is regrettably her most-frequented location in town. She's browsing the shelves, a thin, bony figure all in black, when she comes around the corner in time to see another, younger girl pulling books from the shelves with little more than a concentrated look on her face and an extension of her hand. In a way, it's impressive--and deeply suspicious. Harrow's dark eyes narrow, but she steps closer.

"What was that?"