Jonathan Teatime (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elegance_guaranteed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2013-06-28 01:17 am
elegance_guaranteed) wrote in entrancelogs2013-06-28 01:17 am
Entry tags:
Closed
Who: Teatime and Evelyn
Where: The library
When: Evening
Rating: PG?
Summary: Evie is (unfortunately) the only one around for Teatime's arrival.
The Story:
Teatime was not where he thought he would be. He was not technically lost, because for Teatime, journeys were more often measured in time than distance. He had a destination in mind, so although he was not sure where the locked doors of the Unseen University would lead him, he was not altogether disturbed to find himself inside a library rather than outside somewhere.
The doorway he'd stepped through, he noted with interest, had disappeared along with the cleanly sliced remnants of the door itself. In its stead was a wall of tomes that, upon inspection, appeared to be atlases and geographical text books for places that he had never heard of. He pulled one off the shelf and extended it in front of him sideways, so that gravity would turn the pages and he could keep one hand on the hilt of Death's sword. The round world described within held no interest for him and though he continued to look at it, his attention was on a soft sigh issued somewhere out of his line of sight.
Teatime surrendered the book to gravity's embrace and silently flitted through the walls of shelves until he found the source of the exasperated sound. He stood for a while and assessed the woman from a shadowy recess. He decided to get closer before the weight of his presence congealed into something just shy of palpable and spooked her. His focused attention tended to do unnerve people that way.
Without taking a single step or moving any muscles whatsoever, he stood behind her. His mouth opened for a greeting, but he wordlessly leaned forward just enough to read the middle three sentences of her book instead. He found nothing particularly frustrating about the material. His voice caught up to his mouth (which was, due to reading over her shoulder, closer to her ear than he had originally intended.)
“My name is Teatime, what's yours?” he asked genially.
Where: The library
When: Evening
Rating: PG?
Summary: Evie is (unfortunately) the only one around for Teatime's arrival.
The Story:
Teatime was not where he thought he would be. He was not technically lost, because for Teatime, journeys were more often measured in time than distance. He had a destination in mind, so although he was not sure where the locked doors of the Unseen University would lead him, he was not altogether disturbed to find himself inside a library rather than outside somewhere.
The doorway he'd stepped through, he noted with interest, had disappeared along with the cleanly sliced remnants of the door itself. In its stead was a wall of tomes that, upon inspection, appeared to be atlases and geographical text books for places that he had never heard of. He pulled one off the shelf and extended it in front of him sideways, so that gravity would turn the pages and he could keep one hand on the hilt of Death's sword. The round world described within held no interest for him and though he continued to look at it, his attention was on a soft sigh issued somewhere out of his line of sight.
Teatime surrendered the book to gravity's embrace and silently flitted through the walls of shelves until he found the source of the exasperated sound. He stood for a while and assessed the woman from a shadowy recess. He decided to get closer before the weight of his presence congealed into something just shy of palpable and spooked her. His focused attention tended to do unnerve people that way.
Without taking a single step or moving any muscles whatsoever, he stood behind her. His mouth opened for a greeting, but he wordlessly leaned forward just enough to read the middle three sentences of her book instead. He found nothing particularly frustrating about the material. His voice caught up to his mouth (which was, due to reading over her shoulder, closer to her ear than he had originally intended.)
“My name is Teatime, what's yours?” he asked genially.