The School Grounds - The Library

And here is the library of the school, containing any number of volumes aiming for the edification of students. The doors are always open - the librarian, Miss Tess, is not even sure if they lock. After all, there are plenty of places to sneak and hide in the atmospheric stacks. Plenty of serviceable tables and chairs, conveniently located and strategically placed. Of course, the sign outside the door is also quite helpfully labeled to direct those in need of an objective.

For indeed, strategy is a major feature of a library. To plot out what one seeks, to chart the course, and to reach the destination. Will you look for an accessible Twain, or a plainly stated Orwell? Perhaps Byron. Perhaps Lucian. Their count is endless, and should a certain area be found wanting, inform Miss Tess at once. She aims to please, after all.

Unless you poke around in her desk. Then you're just asking for trouble.

Welcome to the Library.

The Tigress finds herself within the school once again. Her first foray into the building had brought her to the gym. She had been aimless, wandering the halls with no real purpose. No real direction. But not today. She knew where she was going. She, once again, passed the office without bothering to check in. She is certain that secretary is going to chase her down one day, but she'd worry about that another time.

Jeans hugged her hips, barely held onto her narrow waist with a tan black leather belt. Ripped and torn, they revealed the soft, pale skin beneath in little, teasing glimpses. A tank top squeezed around her upper body, molding to it perfectly. A bracelet encircled her right wrist. A pendant hangs from a pewter chain around her neck, shimmering silvery tone against the black cloth. Brunette tresses are bound with a single tie in a ponytail, out of her face and her way. She carries a present with her, and a smile twists her lips.

She searches until she finds the Library, slipping silently through the unlocked doors. An emerald gaze shifts around the room, taking in what there was to see. The place spoke of the taste of its manager, and the smile on her lips widened. She explored, passing shelves and empty desks, waiting couches and chairs. The silence of the room wasn't eerie, but comforting. But, at last, her search came to an end. The librarian's desk. She strode forward, tennis shoes making no noise upon the floor.

She set her gift down upon the desk. The old book was a collection of poetry. Within the cover, on the first page, in the Tigress' tiny, neat handwriting was an inscription.

For a lover of words
A collection of images
Almost as beautiful as you.

It's a new semester and it's been awhile since she's wandered through the doors here. Last time, the surfaces around her gleamed and the shadows pooling at the bottom of bookshelves seemed comforting rather than abandoned. The doors thud shut behind her and she sets her stack of books on the closest table. Dark. Dark and very cold. Shrugging deeper into her sweater doesn't do anything to dispel the chill, so she decides to get moving.

Her fingerprints leave figures in the thick dust of tabletops and her footsteps scuff against the wooden floorboards.

Okay.

Start with history. She shoves earbuds into her ears and disappears into the stacks.