The library's ground level is one large room punctuated by even rows of pier columns that confidently hold the weight of the upper floors. The building is old but solid, its lath and plaster walls dark with age. Here and there some of the plaster has worn off to reveal the wooden slats beneath. Heavy, dark grained and decorated mahogany wainscoting runs the length of the walls, complimented by thick, ornate crown molding along the ceiling and each of the columns. It's clear from the dilapidated condition that the building's been abandoned for decades. There is a somber, sepulchral quietness to the place, even when alive with people, that is perhaps a ghostly echo of the rigid, required silence that its wardens demanded when the library was in its heyday.
Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
The above are probably the first things people notice on nights during which he is not also wearing a fluffy, thigh-length caramel-coloured probably-faux fur coat. This not one of those nights. Under it, he's more reasonably clad, in a short-sleeved black shirt, untucked and well-fitted, with brass studs around the cuffs and edge of the collar, and old black jeans with the rip in one knee and the cuffs half walked off. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
Thick honey-blonde hair, styled in a poofy set of curls, rings this pretty blue-eyed young woman's head. She's in her late teens, and her hair's currently left down, though it's occasionally pinned up. She stands about five and a half feet tall, and is a little on the thin side of things, though not to an extreme. She dresses mostly in informal styles, from ripped jeans and tank tops to the occasional sundress.
Currently, she wears the former, her black tank top emblazoned with a large sequined red heart, and her jeans so ripped as to be nearly indecent. About half of the heart's sequins are missing. Her feet are clad in red strappy lightly-heeled sandals that have seen better days. She wears little in the way of jewelry, just a black wooden bracelet, a stainless steel and rhinestone mood ring, and (probably fake) gold earrings. When she speaks, a fairly thick Southern accent is evident.
Linnaea is a petite young woman, just under five feet in height when she stands fully straight. Dark hair with auburn and even lighter blond highlights hangs in a braid slightly past her shoulders, with stray hairs that escape to form bangs and frame her face, and brown eyes. Her skin is fair but tanned, with freckles across her cheeks, and features that are not delicate so much as they are strong and simply there. She wears practical clothing, jeans and a brightly colored teeshirts, and sturdy looking slip on shoes.
There is a series of sharp knocks on the front door, and then the sound of it creaking open. If anyone's paying attention, Linnaea can be seen entering the Library, cane in one hand for balance, messenger bag slung over her shoulder, carrying what looks like... a significant number of boxes of pizza. Six boxes of pizza. The Gaian is wearing black corduroys, and a pale blue teeshirt, with a unicorn on it (seems to be a theme in her wardrobe, go figure) that's got rainbows originating from the unicorn and radiating outward.
Felix happens to be coming down the stairs when the knocks come, and does not have a cane, although it has been proposed more than once that he ought to when he's in that particular coat. He's humming We R Who We R as he goes, moving to the beat of it in his head, though the humming stops as the door gets opened from without. Pizza should never have to be considered a threat, so he's rather pleased to recognize the bearer. "Hey!" he greets her brightly, "'sup, Lin? You need a hand with those?"
Linnaea purses her lips, and then lifts the shoulder of the arm that holds the cane. "I won't say no," she says, grinning. "See," the grin doesn't diminish, "I thought I'd use the door this time. It's kinna hard t' carry pizza through the Umbra." If there's some tension from it being her moon, it's difficult or nearly impossible to tell from how she carries herself or the tone of her voice. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything? How're you?"
For the Galliard it's just a small moon, and he seems decidedly less tense than before -- even after Felix decided she was okay, the pull of the moon was likely clear enough to anyone who knows Garou. Today there's still that sense of far more internal energy than necessary, but it seems less sharp-edged. He claims the pizza boxes from her, eyeing them as he does so. "Very good use of door technology, yeah," he says, flashing her a grin in return, "I'm sure all y'all'll have it down to a science in no time. An' nah, you ain't interruptin' nothin'. I'm headin' out in a bit, but I reckon I'll give Lilah another li'l while to get home first, see if she wants to come with. =You= wanna come with?"
"Never let it be said that Gaians are averse to technology. I mean, I've met some who'd say that doors are a Weaver-invention, but they're stodgy old batses," Lin offers, following after Felix. There's a touch more of her accent than the last time they met, odd pluralisation that seems nearly subconscious. "I figured after I'd just dropped in the last time, the least I could do would be to bring some pizza. Good-will gesture on my part, though I don't think I can precisely speak for all of my packmates." There's a furrowing of brow and almost-grumbling, but it's quickly enough dismissed. "T' where?" the question is asked.
"Batses?" Felix echoes, amused, and he carts the boxes to the mahogany counter that serves as the kitchen, setting them down there and then opening each one an inch or so in turn, to see just what's inside. "'s true, most Gaians I've met ain't so bad on appreciatin' the upside of tech, like ceilings an' refrigerators an' guitars." Speaking of the second in that list, he opens theirs up -- an ancient thing probably older than his grandfather -- and considers the internal space. Two boxes of pizza manage to get shoved in, barely, as there's a cake box in there taking up a lot of the room already. "Gonna find a party," he answers, "or maybe hit a club; ain't decided which yet. One or the other, though." Bumping the door shut again, he turns and leans up against it. "You got packmates who don't bear us good-will? Huh. I don't think we been particularly fuckin' with any of 'em..."
Linnaea snorts and shakes her head. "Nah," she murmurs, quieter now. There is pizza of nearly every variety imaginable-- pepperoni, Canadian bacon and pineapple, one all-meat-all-the-time special, one sausage and mushroom, pepperoni and olives, and one that seems to have all the meat AND all the vegetables. All the things that active Garou need to maintain calorie intake, pretty much. "More that Briari an' I aren't quite seeing eye-to-eye or agreeing on much, so bugger that." There's a grin. "If I'd'a known, I'd have worn the shirt with the /sparkly/ unicorn." And from Linnaea's tone of voice, there's a definite pop-culture reference in there. "I mean, I didn't see the point in giving up all this technology when I became Garou. I just don't necessarily worship it the way that Cockroach's tribe does. Unlike some of my tribunates, I think it can help us. Help everyone."
Felix perhaps doesn't catch the reference, but he does grin and say, "Well, we got a bunch of glitter an' a gluestick somewhere. Here, come eat pizza with me." As if she weren't the one who brought it in the first place. "You want somethin' to drink? An' yeah, I reckon that's mostly how we feel 'round here. It ain't the be all an' end all, but a tool's a tool an' I like a hot shower. So speakin' of tools... what aren't y'all seein' eye-to-eye on?"
Lin grabs two of the slices of the Canadian bacon pizza, after she leans her cane against a counter. "Sure," comes the easy agreement. "When I think about it, I don't know that we quite ever saw eye-to-eye in the first place, but when she asked t' join, I figured I hoped I'd grow to like her more, an' I don't dislike her." Lin lifts a shoulder. "But she's a ragabash and sometimes I want to drop a metaphorical building on her."
Felix opens the fridge again, coming up with a can and a bottle, both labeled as Coke. The latter's half-empty, and he keeps it for himself, offering the former to his guest. "Heh. I tried to get her to let me push her off a building, once, but she wouldn't go for it." A slight pause, while he snags a piece of the everything pie. "Seemed only fair, seein' as she was plannin' to shoot me. ...she was teachin' me City Runnin' at the time. Which was nice of her," he allows. "I guess I'm mostly okay with her now, I just reckon she ain't so great at," slight pause, "people. So what's makin' her architecturally magnetic lately?"
"I didn't want t' hang out with her when the moon was big," Linnaea says, grabbing the can of coke, another slice of pizza, and moving over to flop back on the couch. "And then, I mean, I don't hang out with her much, I guess... she felt slighted. But I'm not feeling remorse or any of the things I should." Lin lifts her shoulders. "She asked if I like her, and sure. But I like her... more like I like everyone, than anything else. I don't /dislike/ her, and when she was being pushy about hanging out, I said to give it time, and I guess... it wasn't what she wanted t' hear?"
Felix just takes the whole damn box of 'everything' and brings it along with him to the couch, where he flumps down into one of the corners, using the arm more than the back to lean against. "Eh, fuck 'should'," he says, gesturing dismissively with the bottle, "'specially on feel. Yeah, though, I can see how that'd go. Ain't no one likes feelin' unwanted, an' far's I can tell she ain't real good at figurin' out what shit looks like with other folks' eyes." There are three more pizza boxes on the counter in the kitchen, and he and Linnaea are both sitting on the couch; from his outfit (and the fact that, c'mon, it's Friday night and a small moon) anyone who knows him could probably surmise he had intentions of Going Out tonight.
And into the Library comes a Lilah, laden with grocery and Goodwill bags. She pauses in the doorway when she spots the pizza-- oh, and Felix and Linnaea, as well-- and then she heads on in, smiling. "Well, howdy!" she greets, and having apparently heard part of the tail end of Felix's words, adds, "I ain't interruptin' nothin', am I?" The grocery bags are set down on the counter, while the Goodwill bags are brought over for Felix to rummage in, presumably. It's mostly clothes, and clothes his size (for the most part). In addition, there's a stuffed mouse, and some books.
Linnaea purses her lips and tilts her head and takes a long sip from her soda. "Nah. I brought pizza!" she offers to Lilah, and then fidgets a moment. "But I was all ready t' ask her if she wanted to pick up dinner, right before she started getting on my case, and then after she finished doing the vigilante thing, she went on about how she had this that or the other thingses set up and waiting for her, and I wanted to get out of the office, not Netflix and chill, and..." The theurge's shoulders lift up, and then slowly settle and fall. "So whenever she wants t' hang out I either have school, or work, or just don't, and when I'm maybe doing something, she's... busy."
"Hey, doll!" Felix greets Lilah when the movement of the door turns out to be her; he brightens at her arrival, not that he seemed down before. "C'mere an' help us eat this pizza." When she does approach, he tries to pull her down to join him, and the bags get an interested look, though he doesn't do more than poke at them a little as yet. "That's kinda tough," he says to Linnaea's further explanation. "...an' shitty timin', considerin' you WERE tryin' to actually do somethin' with her, too."
"Well, thank ya kindly for the pizza, then!" Lilah has no protests at being pulled down for hugs and pizza, particularly since her stomach takes that moment to register its protest at not being included earlier. She kisses Felix's cheek, and then reaches down to try and 'steal' a piece of his pizza. She gives Linn a friendly smile, and then quiets to let them talk.
"Yeah, except she was off doing the vigilante thing when I first asked what was going on, and after that, it got awkward, I mean... I was trying to talk to her. I don't much, but I'm just barely crawling out of the rock I've been living under," there's a shrug and the pizza seems to be what interests Lin more, or at least enough that the bitching doesn't turn into tension or anger. "And so by the end of it, I told her to back off or I'd want to drop a metaphorical building on her head, and she got all hurt all loudly, and I've kinda backed off since, and so has she. Haven't felt anything from her, and I certainly'm not going t' call or email."
Felix can't help laughing at the or-else, even if the phrase was said before; apparently it being said to =her= makes a difference. "S'pose the civil engineer part of your engineering could actually make it happen, too, from what you said before," he says, "...though I still think droppin' her off one'd be easier." He lets Lilah 'steal' the pizza from his hand, a bite or two already missing from it, and slides his arm around her waist, taking another piece from the box. "I mean, if some kinda buildin'-adjacent action became necessary."
Lilah seems thoroughly pleased with her stolen pizza, because as we all know, stolen food just *tastes* better. "Who're ya gonna drop off a buildin', or drop a theoretical buildin' on?" She settles into place and loops an arm around Felix's neck. She eats her pizza rather quickly, the better to try and 'steal' another piece from Felix's hand, looking to be in good spirits.
"The Fostern ragabash," there's a note in Lin's voice that states that perhaps, also, the reason she hasn't explored her difference of opinion with her packmate previously is the rank difference, "that is my packmate. She's being a peevish twit." Strong words, coming from the usually polite Brit. "I mean, she did drop /herself/ off a building while she was doing the vigilante thing right while I was talking to her. Three stories or something like that."
"Briari," Felix tells Lilah, rather more directly, despite the likelihood the given details are plenty for the kin to work that out. "She ain't best pleased she an' Lin ain't best friends yet, more or less." He resists the pizza-theft this time, long enough to take a big bite out of the crust before he lets Lilah 'win' and goes for the next slice. This one, he eats backwards. "That's why City Runnin's fun. Three stories ain't nothin', long's you got your head right an' it ain't purely air you're workin' with... but y'know. Just means you gotta pick your buildin' more careful." He grins, and pokes the Gaian's shin lightly with the toe of his boot.
Lilah's face lights up in understanding, and she nods her head. On Briari directly she doesn't comment, instead working at her pizza quickly, no doubt in hopes of stealing another of his pieces. It appears to be taking too long to finish the piece, as her expression has a look of dismay mere moments before she gives up on swiftly eating, and instead aims to steal Felix's current piece and stack it atop her current one.
Linnaea grins. "Suppose Queen's Tower is out of the question though," the Gaian muses. It is in a distinctly friendly and joking tone, after all, she'd never do such a thing to another Garou, at least not one that was on the same side. "I should learn that at some point... But some other day." The last of the soda is tipped backwards, and for having gotten all of it off her chest, Lin seems significantly more relaxed.
"Well, gettin' her up there in the first place might be a trick," Felix agrees, grinning. "But hey, never know." He eyes Lilah when she tries to take his current slice of pizza, and lets her pull it over to be stacked -- then leans in, catching her wrist tight in his suddenly-empty hand, to take a big bite out of both 'her' slices at once. With all the pizza Lin brought -- or even just the one at the couch -- there's plenty for all of them regardless of the odd ways some of it gets divided up in the meantime, and once everyone's as full as they want to be, there's still the night out there calling their names.