Bookends, [AW]

[Jessi]

<3 Professor Plum with the revolver in the library... Or not. Professor Plum only existed on a board game, a game Jessi'd played countless times without understanding it's true purpose. What was so amazing about finding how who committed a murder in a house? The spirits absolutely hated that game. Actually, they hated anything that involved violence. Their stories made him want to just throw everything away and live in some forest somewhere far away from mankind and their relatives. Forget pacifism. He could go to the extremes and become a hermit, locked away in a quite realm of solitude where he could occasionally slip away from reality and get lost in the spirits. Forget Dances With Wolves. Jessi was going to be Dances With Spirits. He was going to charter into unknown territories and mark the history books with events worth making movies. Until that time, he was just as content to spend his quiet hours of the day, shriveling away in the far corners of the library. There, he could be sure that nothing but the dust would take him away from the thoughts that were randomly flying across the pages of black spiral note book that was opened on the table. Jessi pulled one knee up to his chest and wrapped his arms around it, shifting in his chair until he could write comfortably. Today he was writing with no purpose, just writing to get things out there. Out of his head and onto something that he could burn should he ever have the desire to commit a crime of arson on campus. He'd always wanted to set a trash can on fire. Maybe one of these days he'd have a reason to do it. God... The fucking books are practically flying off the shelf, trying to drown me beneath a crap load of literary merit. Who gives a flying 'F' about literary merit. Anne Rice can withstand the test of time just as well as Jack London who sure as hell knows how to build a fire. I seriously think he should have just killed that dog and used him for firewood. Or not. Heck. I'd have more dead things on my back in a heart beat if any ghoul saw me write that. I've got enough dead skin on me already. Freakin' dust. Just a bunch of lousy skin cells... I think half of them in here came from the librarian sitting over at her desk. She looks like a -- Jessi glanced up, interrupting his thought process as he brought his pen to his teeth. His teeth worried upon the head of the pen, his tongue flicking over the lazy clicker as he sucked it in and out of it's resting place. Darn him. He couldn't think of a single thing that was worth while to run his thoughts over. It was just a bunch of lousy nonsense that were sucking out his muse until he felt like a dried up sea sponge resting out in the sun. His teeth ground together on the pen, lifting it from his hands to balance between his lips. Shifting his jaw, the pen flipped up and then down, up and down until he snatched it away again, annoyed with himself. Words keep stirring But the pen refuses to meet the paper. He scribbled out a few brief words and then scratched the word "Museless," above his attempt at a free verse poem. It was the best he could come up with at the moment, but he wasn't about to give up. The only way to become a better writer was to force his way through series of writer's block. He had to put something on the page and he wasn't leaving until at least one page was filled. At this rate, he'd never meet his goal. Until then, he could ponder upon the countless teen novels that flooded the shelves. The sort of fluffy novels that could be considered as fatting as the food from McDonald's. McNovels. The things that don't have literary, freaking, merit.

[Rosie]

Haha, I love Jessi. Not sure if he’ll like Rosie, though… Unfortunately for Rosie, the library was not a place she was very familiar with. Even the library close to her house she hardly visited. She had a generally busy lifestyle, and books just weren’t something she got around to very often. She did like to read, and she did like books. She just didn’t like to read them all the time. Still, Rosie already found herself bored of school, and it was the first week. Of course, she wasn’t really bored of school persay, she loved living in a dorm with her friends, and being in Venice and everything, it was the classes and the waking up early that she didn’t like. Rosie had already been late to class twice because she had slept in, and she probably would have been late a few more times if Mia or Mariette hadn’t woken her up. She was just used to summer… so, Rosie had decided to come to the library, seeking good advice from a nice, old-fashion romance book. That could cure everything, right? With a small sigh, Rosie wandered in to the library, which was actually very nice looking for a school. Then again, this wasn’t your average school either. It was stocked with thousands upon thousands of all kinds of books, just waiting to be read. All of them had different plot lines, and yet, if you simply twisted the words and letters around, every single book in this library would say the same thing. The thought of that was strange, but true. After all, there were only 26 letters in the alphabet. Venturing in to the unknown, Rosie picked a small isle to go down, and the books were so stuffed in to these bookshelves she had a feeling she’d have to pry out the book she wanted, considering she actually found one. The sound of pens scratching on paper, and the flipping of pages echoed through Rosie’s ears, mainly because that was the only sounds she could here in this quiet place. Yet another thing to marvel at about the library- so many teens brought together, and yet all of them were silent. Of course, there were always the few people giggling and whispering in the corner, but even they seemed to be quiet today. Wandering down another isle, Rosie came across a very familiar classic. Little Women, a book she had practically grown up on. Since she was raised by three boys, she had to have something feminine in her life. Grabbing the book off its perfectly stacked shelf, Rosie contemplated what to do next. She didn’t feel like going back to her dorm to read, there were too many distractions. Besides, if Mia and Mariette were fighting again, she didn’t want to get in the middle of it. So, Rosie looked around for a table in the library, seeing most of them were filled. Book in hand, Rosie’s dark brown eyes shifted around the room, looking for a spot to read, or someone she knew. She knew no one here at the moment, which surprised her. Then again, there were a lot of new students at the beginning of the year. So, Rosie sat down at a rather empty table, with only one student there. A ghost. The ghost was a male, and looked to be a little older then herself, though it was always hard to tell with ghosts. He seemed a little angry, concentrating on the notebook in front of him. Rosie sent him a small smile, ”First week back and they already pile on the homework…” She said with a small frown, placing the book she picked out on the table. She could definitely sympathize, she had already gotten an essay to write and a geometry project due in a couple of days. However, instead of doing them, she sat in the library, reading romance novels and talking to strangers. Oh well, it seemed a lot more fun then her other two options….

[Jessi]

Ahh thanks! I'm glad someone likes him. And he could like Rosie... it just takes him some time to warm up to people. <3 --- His lips pursed, an elbow lifting to prop on his knee and tangle his fingers in his hair. This was worthless. This whole idea of writing just to be writing was doing nothing for him today. The words didn't want to come. He didn't want to write them down. There was nothing in this world that was giving him the small burst of inspiration that he was desperately searching for. This world he was currently in, this large expanse of shelving, books, and dust. The dimly lit corner he sat in was not helping his creativity. Not giving him that extra push to send him spiraling into a realm of surrealism. Frustrated, his eyes rolled, his head falling against his knee before he pushed himself up in his chair and scribbled a few more words on the open page of his notebook. Impossible like hanging pictures on a wall of water Dark brown eyes stared at the lined page before him. Here and there, he'd scrawled incomprehensible beginnings of larger works, each holding something different and more unique than the others, but he wasn't quite satisfied. Not yet. He had to put something down that had purpose. Something that captured the world in a different light that the one naturally cast. Jessi sighed, shifting once more so that he was sitting cross-legged in his chair and leaning helplessly over the table so that the notebook was the only thing he could see and focus on. Another sigh. Limiting his sight didn't help either. The breath of a book meeting the table caused Jessi to jump. He jerked himself back into a sitting position, staring at the bindings of the thick novel. The spine read "Little Women." For a moment, his eyes lingered on the book before he drew them slowly upwards towards the witch that had set it down in the first place. She started talking, commenting on the workload that was already piling up on the students. Hesitantly, Jessi nodded, while pulling his note book back towards himself. He ran his fingers over the spiral bindings, flipping the pages over themselves until the ratty black cover hid the pages below, hiding his thoughts from her eyes. "Yeah." Jessi untangled his legs and pulled himself out of the chair. His hands snatched his black messenger bag from where he'd set it on the floor and began to return his notebook to it's home. "Lots of assignments already." He lowered his head, letting his hair hide his eyes while he slid his pen into his pocket and pushed his chair towards the table, tucking it in. "I should... probably go... get started on them." The chair slid beneath the table, resting as though he hadn't sat in it to begin with. It was as though he was erasing the fact that he'd even been there while trying to slowly slip away. He pulled his bag's strap over his shoulder and paused. Again, his eyes focused on the spine where "Little Women" blared out at him. She handled the book casual, as though she had picked it up for fun or as though it was something she was well familiar with. He couldn't quite decipher between the two, but it was curious. His gaze fell towards the floor before it lifted, his mouth parting as though to ask a question before he thought better of remaining silent. Quiet, he lingered, hovering like death in the corner of a child's room, patient and waiting for the day when he might be able to do what he desired. "Why 'Little Women'?" he asked, standing behind his chair.

[Rosie]

Although slightly empty, Rosie felt the library had a sort of comforting appeal to it. No matter where you were, a library was pretty much the same. Different sizes, colors and shapes, but still, they all held one purpose. Books. Rosie’s dark eyes traveled from the bookshelves to the table where she sat. She felt a little sleepy, but she couldn’t help it- the library was just such a quiet place… Her attention turned from the silence to the ghost in front of her who was heavily concentrating on the notebook in front of him. Had he procrastinated, and suddenly realized he had an essay do? Was he simply a writer who thought of a great idea? Rosie didn't know... she had always thought it would be cool to write her own story one day, unfortunatly though, time was an issue. She felt so busy, but at the same time, found herself sitting in the library, or in her room, not wanting to do her homework but feeling guilty about not doing it. If only she was like Mia... Mia seemed to like doing her work. She was good at it, obsessed with it, almost... "Yeah." Rosie was surprised when the ghost in front of her answered her question, but probably because she had been lost in thought. He seemed a little hesitant. Timid, almost, but that wasn't the right word.... almost like he was hiding something. Maybe not... I mean, why say ten words when three will do? Rosie supposed she liked to ramble... just for the sake of it? Maybe she just liked the sound of her own voice. Still, she offered a smile in his direction, just glad he was talking to her. She kept wanting to describe him ad timid, but she knew that wasn't the right word. Maybe she was just an obnoxious person? Mariette had also seemed frightened when meeting her. Rosie frowned slightly, at the thought of this. The ghost seemed uncomfortable as soon as she sat down, for he had already gotten up and beginning to gather his things. "Lots of assignments already." Rosie nodded at this, "Yeah..." she said, agreeing with his statement although he had basically just been repeating what she said. He seemed anxious to get away from her, and Rosie let out a small sigh. Oh well, she hadn't come here to meet a new person... she had come here to read a book, right? He started to put the last things in his backpack, pushing his chair in and getting his backpack on, trying to leave as soon as possible it seemed. "I should... probably go... get started on them." Rosie frowned, bu gave a small nod, "Well, yes, but I didn't mean to make you leave!" She told him, apoligetically. She now felt as though she was taking his spot away from him. He was probably more comfortable then she was at the library, anyway. Still, if she left now then that would be a complete waste, and she would have made him leave for no reason. So, here Rosie was, stuck in an akward situation instead of doing something useful like, I don't know, her homework, for a change? "Why 'Little Women'?" Hearing his voice again surprised Rosie a little. She had already thought he had left, but the voice came from over her shoulder. Turning around, Rosie saw him standing there, er, rather, hovering there. It was an odd question, one that Rosie was sure of the answer for, but she didn't really know how to say it to him and have it make sense. "Well... its a classic." Rosie replied with a small shrug. "Something comforting for the beginning of the new year? Besides, they didn't have 'To Kill a Mockingbird.'" Rosie said, naming her other favorite book as if he already knew it was or something.

[Jessi]

<3 --- Jessi's eyes searched her face, trying to read her expression like a bibliophile would read a book. He took care, trying to sort through the lines on her visage or the quivers in her eyes. Staring, he could read nothing. He was unfamiliar with the expressions of those people around him. It seemed strange since he wrote about people all the time. Or not people, the specters of the spirit realm and the people they used to represent. Just the memories of life, but never the real thing. People in the flesh were different. Though similar in concept, Jessi found the two to be distinct. Spirits were superficial. People were unpredictable. The strap of his messenger bag fell over his shoulder. Carrying the weight of his books, Jessi felt lopsided, but he didn't show it. Instead, he stood behind the chair he'd been sitting in; his face a blank stare even as he nodded once more, agreeing with what he'd already said about schoolwork, and what she had seconded. A person of few spoken words, he didn't say much more even as she tried to pacify him by saying that she hadn't meant to give him any reason to leave. His brown eyes swept over table until it fell upon the book. Rosie had been kind enough to put as much space between them as possible. Whether she realized it or not, she'd chosen to sit at the opposite end which was enough to leave Jessi with enough privacy if he did chose to stay. Silently, Jessi hung in limbo. He still had the option of sitting down or finding another place to sit. One glance around the library told him that there were no other stray tables safe from the eyes of an immediate crowd. It was either remain at this table, or run off to find another place to sit. He could always return to his room if he wanted, but Jessi found the closeness of those walls uncomfortable. "It's okay," he started, not making eye contact. "I was just- well- I mean-" he fumbled with the words, his hands working to sweep the chair back out from underneath the table. "I'll stay. It's fine." Jessi forced himself to sit back down, his messenger back finding home on the ground even as the strap remained on his shoulder. "I'm not- um- good with- er- people." His hands fell into his lap. His head down and avoiding all contact with her eyes as he had up until he tried to search her face for a hint of her thoughts. Jessi's actions were strange. His shyness was something that was inbred after years of not knowing what to do with his gifts. Not even this school and the discovery that he was more normal than he'd thought was enough to break him of his mousy reactions. The only comfort he'd had was the spirit realm. There, Jessi knew how to lighten up an live a little. Here, in the real world, Jessi was at a loss. This place just wasn't like the one he knew so well. It wasn't until she spoke again that Jessi looked up. His eyes rose slightly, only lifting far enough for him to gaze upon the book that still sat on the table. "You make 'Little Women' sound as if it's only second to 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. Critics would argue that 'Little Women' far surpasses 'To Kill a Mockingbird's' literary merit." Jessi's eyes darted towards the shelves only to lift up and hesitantly settle upon her face. "You seemed more like the sort of person the read Jane Austen's 'Emma'." Though soft, his last words spun off with a condescending sort of tone that seemed to stereotype Rosie in the category of one of those girls who cared more about the rumor mill and gossip. She seemed more like a 'Clueless' sort of girl than someone to read about a family struggling through the civil war.

[Rosie]

Hehe, Rosie’s not depressed, I swear! Those were just the first two books I though of xDDD But whatever, their both good ^^ Rosie couldn’t help feeling guilty about making the ghost-boy leave, even though it wasn’t exactly her fault. It was, but at the same time it wasn’t. Maybe he didn’t like company, but she hadn’t sat right next to him. She had sat across the table, and on the opposite side of him. Still, maybe it had been her mistake in trying to start a conversation. If she had just left him to his writing, then maybe he wouldn’t have felt so uncomfortable, and like he had to leave. There wasn’t much she could do about it now, though. She couldn’t really force him to stay, but at the same time she didn’t want him to feel like he had to leave. So, she simply sat there, waiting for him to do something, whether that would be leaving or changing his mind. He didn’t seem to decide anything, he simply stood behind the chair he had been sitting in, staring at the book she had chosen. Rosie felt awkward, just sitting there in silence with him. He seemed to glance around the library, as if looking for a quick escape from the obnoxious girl that had, unfortunately, picked him as her next victim to talk to. Rosie had thought of herself as a generally friendly person- but was she over friendly? It was certainly a possibility… "It's okay," Rosie's attention suddenly turned back to him, as he spoke again after her small apology. He seemed quick to answer, but still shy to make eye-contact with her. "I was just- well- I mean-" He seemed to fumble, trying to find the right word, but Rosie sat there patiantly, eager to hear what he had to say. She wasn't so sure why she was eager, after all, she had only just met him, but maybe she was just hoping he would decide to stay? "I'll stay. It's fine." He pulled out his chair, planting himself down in it once more. Rosie wasn't really sure what to do, but she felt a little exasperated now. She had wanted him to stay, yes, but she hadn't meant to seem forceful by anymeans. She sighed slightly, feeling even more uncomfortable, if possible. "I'm not- um- good with- er- people." It seemed to take him a while to find the right words, and to this Rosie simply nodded. She wasn't going to retort the comment, since it was a little obvious that this was, in fact, true. "Oh..." Rosie replied faintly, not really sure what else to say to that. Although he seemed very shy, the least Rosie could do was introduce herself. She didn't see any harm in that, right? "Well... nice to meet you! I'm Rosie." She told him, adding another friendly smile. It was only when the conversation turned to books did he seem to want to speak. Rosie wondered why that was, but maybe he just really liked books, or knew a lot about them, or something. He still seemed a little uncomfortable, though. Not just with Rosie, but with everything, it seemed. "You make 'Little Women' sound as if it's only second to 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. Critics would argue that 'Little Women' far surpasses 'To Kill a Mockingbird's' literary merit." The ghost lifted his eyes to her, only to say this, but averted his eyes once more after. Rosie wasn't sure what she was more surprised about- the fact that he had spoke more then a few words to her, or how defensive he sounded, talking about the books. She wasn't all to sure how to reply, even... "Well," She started, giving a small frown as she repeaed his words in her head. "Yes, some might argue that. However, I don't really mind the literary merit of a book, persay, I just like it for the plot-line." She said with a small shrug, as if that even made sense. "Besides, somone might think that a childrens book would even have more literary merit then either of those two books." She added. His lifeless eyes settled back on Rosie for a moment, only to add another comment. "You seemed more like the sort of person the read Jane Austen's 'Emma'." Rosie frowned slightly at his soft-spoken words. He was not so differant then everyone else, after all, he seemed to be quick to judge her. And although those two books may not seem like her kind of style, she still didn't appriciate his stereo type. With slightly narrowed eyes, Rosie replied, "Color me surprised," She stated, a little dryly. "But I don't need to read about pretty, petty, spoiled girls. My life is filled with them." She told him. No, she had never actually read that book, but she knew enough about it to make a retort, wondering what he would say to that.

[Jessi]

I know! It was just funny that those two were the first that came to your mind. <3 --- Jessi's gaze planted itself on the table. His shyness was something that had been planted into his head since a long time ago. His mother hadn't understood him at all. She'd tried to ignore the fact that her child often disappeared for long hours by finding other things to distract herself with. She'd turned to the bottle. Jessi turned to the afterworld. Eventually, he was also turned over to child services before his home Mother caught word of Sangue Plurimi and sent him off to a school that could deal with him. He'd been at the school for two years now, going on his third. The people here were all different and more similar to him, but they still couldn't break his timid habits. He always remained confined to his notebook. His hands held onto his arms just above the elbows, rubbing his hands around joints. She'd introduced herself, being polite and trying throw some friendly cheer into her voice. Jessi struggled to make eye contact while forcing his lips to thin into a makeshift smile. "I'm Jessi," he murmured, eyes wavering from where he tried to keep them planted on her face. "Nice to meet you erm- too." He shifted a hand, wondering if he was supposed to shake hers in greeting, but he noticed that she hadn't made much movement, and he returned his palm to his lap. Maybe people didn't shake all the time? Earlier, he'd shifted the conversation towards books. It was a subject that he was more comfortable with. The words came easier and less awkwardly than if she had asked him a question about something he didn't know. With books, he was confident. With anything that had to do with writing or the spirit realm, Jessi was a pro. Rosie seemed to know a bit about novels too. Her response caused him to ease up a bit, while silently taking the offensive and preparing a way to counter her retort. "True," he started, trying not to seem as though he disagreed. "The story line is important. Without that, you really wouldn't have a book at all." He shrugged, his hands still awkwardly placed in his lap. Her comment about merit made him smile. She seemed so sure of her answer that he hesitated to correct her, but since it was one of his touchy subjects, he responded all the same. "You could argue, but you would lose that argument. Children's books aren't written to be deep and aren't even considered for their merit." His eyes skipped over the library before returning to her face. "Apart from fairy tales, what children's books have past the test of time?" Jessi couldn't think of any. He could think of titles that seemed popular, but the authors were all recent and they seemed to be part of a generation phase that would die with the next wave of children. There was little merit in them. Rosie's expression darkened. In response, Jessi's eyes widened and he wondered what it was that he had done wrong. Had he said something inappropriate? Her southern-like phrase spilled from her mouth and Jessi paled, feeling silly that he had made some judgmental comment. He hadn't meant to offend, not when someone was making the effort to hold a conversation with him. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean-" he stopped mid-sentence, dropping his gaze and letting his body slump over the table. "I didn't mean to say that you're-" he sighed, unable to finish with the right words. "You're not. I'm just- I'm sorry. I'm not good... with words. Not out loud."