Crack goes Vandelin's skull, she can only assume, and magic is dangerous at the best of times. Magic done by someone with a probable head injury —
A surprisingly lengthy tome on snofleurs batters her shins, and thank fuck he hasn't managed to reach the shelf with it. She shoots a look over her shoulder, the strain of motion and exasperation mingled with immediate concern.
(It needn't be said: Not for his sake.)
"Sit down," She hisses, knowing already how useless it is. Her efforts redouble: Best they get this thing up before he tries to help any further, and how is this going to look, Coupe? Braining an idiot in public, demolishing a workspace, great job. Stellar work, "Oh, for fuck's sake!"
A little louder as one manages to clobber another book out of the air, as though two fighting roosters. There's a figure approaching down the aisle at looming pace, a brick of a man in archivist's attire. He doesn't look happy.
no subject
A surprisingly lengthy tome on snofleurs batters her shins, and thank fuck he hasn't managed to reach the shelf with it. She shoots a look over her shoulder, the strain of motion and exasperation mingled with immediate concern.
(It needn't be said: Not for his sake.)
"Sit down," She hisses, knowing already how useless it is. Her efforts redouble: Best they get this thing up before he tries to help any further, and how is this going to look, Coupe? Braining an idiot in public, demolishing a workspace, great job. Stellar work, "Oh, for fuck's sake!"
A little louder as one manages to clobber another book out of the air, as though two fighting roosters. There's a figure approaching down the aisle at looming pace, a brick of a man in archivist's attire. He doesn't look happy.