closed | for want of wit, to memory now i can't recall,

[murderbaby]

WHO: Mhav, Jone, Amos, and some others.
WHAT: This is a catch-all post for some starters I owe.
WHEN: Post-dream, Mid-Guardian.
WHERE: Gallows, Kirkwall generally.
NOTES: I will keep you informed if something horrible happens.

Comments

[murderbaby]

"All books in the library are of some import," Mhavos says, unable to keep himself from enumerating this point. It doesn't really help his argument, but it's something he genuinely believes. "And these especially."

[muckspout]

Edgard takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"How can I help?" He says the phrase genuinely if hesitantly. He does want to help, truly.

[murderbaby]

"You are something of a man for odd jobs, are you not?" Mhavos says, head slightly cocked to the side. "Could you find the lost books? Or the culprit? Either will do, really."

[muckspout]

Edgard keeps his gaze forward and his voice steady, but he is flooded with panic. He likes Mhavos and clearly Mhavos likes him enough to ask this favor. Maybe it's a coincidence. He huffs casually,

"What are the books in question?"

He rubs his nose and then his forehead with the back of his hand.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos takes out a list of books from one of his pockets, several volumes of middling consequence. But they're his charges, and he's no intention of letting them malinger wherever they've been 'misplaced'.

"Could you find these for me?" He says, adding a plaintive note to his voice. "I've no budget with which to pay you-- I'd owe you whatever favor I have."

[muckspout]

Pay him? Edgard looks at the list and his face flushes with color. This is the perfect opportunity to get away with this. There is no reason he shouldn't. He tried to make things right with Satinalia and all that went to shit.

He pretends to study the list to cover his embarrassment and attempt to figure out what to do. Finally it bursts out of him.

"I can't take your money, alright!" He shrieks. "But, I know where the books are." This entire response is much much too loud.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos does his best not to smile. It isn't very hard.

"You do?" He leans forward with interest.

[muckspout]

Edgard sighs tremendously and fidgets with his hands while looking down at them.

"Some of them I have, some I can--track down. But, I--"

He looks up at Mhavos and whispers barely audible. "I took them. It's my fault."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos hadn't expected that. He allows his expression to change: a furrowed brow. "Whyever for?"

The real question on his mind, honestly.

[muckspout]

Edgard shrugs and bites at his lip a little.

"Gifts." He says simply. "A couple I just didn't bring back. But, mostly gifts."

He sighs.

"You have a lot of books."

He gestures expansively.

[murderbaby]

This is a failure of poverty, Mhavos realizes, a poverty he has never truly experienced. Never owning anything, borrowing even the air in his lungs, that creates a sort of seperation, but at least Mhavos was always given access to whatever his masters deemed necessary.

Mhavos finds he cannot be angry. Was he even truly angry before? Disappointed, perhaps, but this washes away.

"Yes," he answers, "and they are for everyone." It's as close to chiding as he can get. "Those that can be returned, please do. Otherwise, we'll speak no more of this, yes? Only... promise me it will not happen again."

[muckspout]

Edgard nods, guilt still pulsing through him.

"It will not. Didn't think anyone would ever notice."

He shrugs. It feels important to explain.

"Usually when you take a little from someone who has a lot, it doesn't matter so much. Not trying to--"

He's not sure how to finish the sentence. He hums a little and then,

"You don't have anything to worry about."