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Reading Materials
Dramatis Personae Faelan, Mallory, Mariot	2013-12-13 Early morning chat in the library
Location <XS> - Library
Xavier's librarian might hope the library is a quiet place to sit and study, but with a school full of teenagers that is not always the case. Nevertheless, it is certainly a treasure trove of knowledge, well-stocked with a wealth of books on its high shelves. Its reference section is vast, though its fiction is as well (much to the delight of many of its students.) The wide octagonal tables and smaller armchairs are often crowded with students, though the whispered conversations that often take place leave some doubt as to how much work is getting done at any given hour. Early on a Friday morning in Winter, and the library is quiet as ever, the unseasonably chilly air from outside failing to penetrate into the bastion of knowledge. If nothing else, the grand collection of books are excellent insulation against the snowy weather outside. It will certainly become more crowded over the course of the day, as students and teachers alike gravitate towards the warmth, if not the knowledge. The entire place has been decorated, somewhat haphazardly, for the holiday season, with lights, swaths of greenery and tinsel, and wreaths placed about - it appears as though it was a joint effort between the librarian, and some helpful students. Tables near the front welcome people with a collection of books on a variety of topics about winter holidays from throughout history and around the world. Mallory is just now making her way to the information desk, dressed professionally in a charcoal gray blazer and matching pencil skirt that exposes her digitigrade legs and cloven hooves, modified to allow for her long, tapered tail to move about freely. A cream colored silk blouse is worn beneath the blazer, the top button undone to expose her neck and delicate collar bones. Her dark hair is pulled back into a neat bun, spiked in place with a pair of thin, twisted metal sticks, accentuating the curling black rams horns that sprout from her temples on either side of her head. Simple gold jewelry, a pair of diamond stud earrings and a thin chain with a solitaire pendant stand out in contrast to her unnaturally deep red skin. In one hand, she carries a silver thermos, steam issuing forth from the mouth of the cup as she enters her domain, hooves making gently clicking noises on the wood flooring that carry through the large room. There's a slight bounce in her step, and a quiet hum as she heads behind the information desk, booting up her computer and setting her thermos down (right beside the "no food or drink in the library" sign, actually) to begin work. Mariot’s own arrival in the library might well have been a little earlier, had she not herself made sure to finish her mug of coffee before venturing near the sanctum. As it is, it’s clear that the wondrous brain-juice has not yet worked its full magic, the British teacher rubbing absent-mindedly at her eyes as she moves through the doors - her gait rather more of an amble than is usual. Her main garment is an over-sized sweater of cream wool, that hangs to her upper thighs, is turned up at the cuffs so as not to wholly swamp her hands, and that is presently slipping down off one (otherwise bare) shoulder. It’s been paired with tight black leggings and calf-high lace-up boots, with the blonde’s hair pulled back into a neat braid. Upon arrival in the library, she pauses, peering around as if attempting to orient herself in spite of persistent sleepiness. Mallory is midway through a yawn as she types her login into the main system behind the desk, raising her other hand to attempt to mask the yawn. Her entirely black eyes blink out at the new arrival, taking a moment longer than normal to recognize her coworker. "Ah, Ms. Gall, good morning," she offers in greeting, her Oxford accented voice a carefully practiced whispered tone, "Anything I can help you with today?" The librarian stifles another yawn, hiding this one with a long sip from her thermos of tea, before offering a cheery smile to the other teacher. Her attention drops once again to her work, pulling out a signout book, and a few other bits and bobs necessary to her job. “Mmm?” Mariot blinks, then refocuses - before offering Mallory a slightly sheepish smile, accompanying it with the raising of one hand. “I confess that I’m not entirely sure. I enjoy being surrounded by books, and was hoping to… soothe a feeling of restlessness, I suppose. I’d been going to blunder around browsing, in hope that something would snare me. But I’m not even sure where to start. And I certainly didn’t intend to interrupt your work.” Coming out from the farther shelves with the book return cart now emptied, Faelan is dressed for his duties with a long sleeve polo shirt in sedate light greys and a pair of khaki pants. The peacefulness of the library suits him, and he seems fairly peaceful. Seeing Mariot there as well as Mallory, he bobs his head in greeting as he offers a smile. "Good morning Ms. Gall, Ms. Winthrop. I had finished up the returns already, so I was wondering if there was anything else on the schedule?" With task scheduling queried, he glances to Mariot again. "I can help with finding the books if you had something in particular you were looking for. If you are just wanting to wander and look at covers though, there isn't much use I can be I'm afraid." He looks abit sheepish at that, but still helpful. Mallory startles slightly when Faelan emerges from the stacks, raising an eyebrow, "Oh, good morning, Faelan. I am impressed, you beat me in this morning. Ah, in a few minutes I suppose I could have you make a double check through the library to be certain no one left things here overnight. I did a sweep before I closed up, but it is always good to check in the mornings, too, given some of our students." The librarian smiles, and raises her thermos to her assistant, before turning back towards Mariot, "You aren't interrupting, helping people who come through is part of my duties, as well." She takes a deep breath, as though inhaling the knowledge and atmosphere around her, grinning lopsidedly, "The library is most assuredly a place to soothe that feeling of restlessness, at least in my experience, anyway. Getting lost in a good book is wondrously relaxing. Do you have a favorite author or genre?" Mallory leans herself back against the tall backless chair provided for her behind the counter, regarding Mariot and Faelan both, carefully sipping her tea from her thermos. “Mmmm. One of the things I miss is having a library of my own in which to relax,” Mariot confesses with a smile. “Well, a family library. I’ve never managed to build up a proper one of my own. Rather too much travel…. But it’s one of the requirements for anywhere I might settle down: a room suitable for converting to a library, so that I can set about filling it with books…” “Mmmm. As for what I’m after? I’m honestly not sure. I’ve been meaning to have a good root around in the foreign language and historical sections here, to see precisely what I have to work with. Likewise, atlases, ethics, and various other things I’m signed up to teach, or at least cover for.” "Alright Ms. Winthrop. I'll do another sweep through the study rooms and computer section to see if anyone left anything." Faelan nods and takes a moment to make the mental note to not forget the task. "If you travel a lot, you may want to look into digital stuff. The school phone has a little app that you can use for it. I keep a couple of emergency guides and language quick guides stored in it mainly though." He looks a tad bit embarrassed at the admission to retaining those on the school phone, but it is at least a practical use of school equipment. "I know it isn't the same, but it isnt exactly easy to carry around the big fancy leatherbound reference books." Faelan glances through the aisles a moment in thought, and looks like he's trying to remember. "I know that the Ethics stuff is in the two hundreds with the rest of the philosophy section. Atlases are in the reference section," he pauses a moment, "Er, the nine hundreds that is." Glancing to Mallory, he looks for confirmation though as he asks "Ms. Winthrop, was languages in the four hundreds?" "One of the few things I miss about the family estate back in Oxfordshire is the grand library. Generations have been collecting books there," Mallory muses, a shadow of regret clouding her features, "Not that I will ever be allowed to set foot in there again." A faint snort, and she smiles impishly, "I shall just have Thomas start smuggling my favorite books out when he visits next." To Faelan, Mallory shakes her head, "Close, but no, Ethics is in the high 100s, just over there," she gestures with a well manicured hand, "Languages, though, you are correct." Mallory wrinkles her nose, slightly, "We do offer a good selection of digital books, including a quality selection of academic works on history and philosophical pursuits. They are available on tablets and computers, but there really is nothing to compare it to a solid book in ones hands. There is something to be said for the tactile experience of reading, as well as the mental." She sighs and smiles slightly, pausing to take a sip of her tea, "I also have a bit of a bias against tablets - they hurt my eyes to look at for too long - focusing on them is difficult for extended times." There's a shrug and a gesture to her obviously inhuman eyes, "But, if you are interested in getting signed up to use our digital library, either of us can get you set up, without much issue." “I can’t claim to have ever had access to a family estate,” Mariot admits with a smile - sounding amiably amused rather than envious or dismissive, “but I did grow up with a lot of books. Electronic versions simply lack so many of their merits…” She shakes her head, then offers a rueful little chuckle. “I have traveled with e-readers for some time now, so it would make sense to make sure I have access to all that I can. But curling up with a Kindle just isn’t at all the same as curling up with a real version, is it?” “Still… I fear that I’m wasting your time with half-awake rambling. I’ve never been a librarian, so I have no idea how busy you actually are at this time of day. I apologize if I’m being an unwelcome burden.” Frowning at having needed correction, Faelan nods accepting the proper numbering. "Ah, sorry. I was close at least." Nodding at that, he looks between the two, not having been anywhere close to the estate category of existence. "I'm used to electronic versions, since I only really carry what I have with me at any given moment." Shrugging, he glances between the two, and just smiles slightly. "Mainly, if there isn't anyone we're helping, its shelving the things that were returned, or putting new books into the system and then shelving them. Most of the other stuff is media related, or study room scheduling. Also telling people shh. Not that that really works, but I can say it at least. "Heh, my family certainly wishes I would stop claiming access or relation to them - but I am stubborn, if nothing else," Mallory says with a wry grin, crossing her arms over her chest. "And certainly, it isn't a burden - I myself am still half asleep at this point, I'm afraid. Ramble on, it is early enough in the morning," the librarian chuckles, taking another sip of her tea, carefully. "I have a first generation Kindle that I adore for my rare travel occasions, but around here? I'd sooner carry a lovely paperback with me," she offers with a smile, "Especially on a cool day like this. Nothing better than a good book. After classes, anyway." Mallory smiles to Faelan, offering an approving nod, "I'm impressed you are starting to memorize it so well, Faelan. I had trouble with it until I actually made it through the class in undergrad." There's another nod of agreement, and she shrugs, glancing around the library idly, "The classes bringing students through for research projects aren't until this afternoon, so I am not particularly in a rush to start pulling the books on the topics at this moment. Have hardly finished my first cup of tea, after all." “Where would all of us be without the delights of family?”, Mariot asks dryly, offering Mallory a rueful smile. To Faelan, she chuckles and nods. “I am accustomed to travelling light… but rarely under quite such severe restrictions as you. I’m glad that you’re adjusting to it.” Looking back to the senior librarian, she cocks her head. “I hope that you can forgive my combination of woeful ignorance and excessive nosiness - but were you a student here, yourself? I only heard of, well, any of this half-hidden world a couple of years back.” At the talk of family issues on behalf of Mallory, Faelan nods in sympathy. “Most of the students here also have been mostly disowned by their family in some way or another.” He does smile though at the dual compliments from Mallory and Mariot. “I’ve been trying to be useful here. Its nice to have something that I can do that is quiet and peaceful.” Nodding a bit at that, he glances back to Mallory though as he volunteers “I can look over the research project list if you want? I kinda went through it pretty recently, so I know where most of the books are that the teachers assigned for other subjects.” “It is a rather unfortunate thing, families not quite so willing to accept their children for what they are,” Mallory admits with a sigh, shaking her head “Ah, I have actually been about as formally disowned as I can - my parents have had me removed from their will, and all members of my family warned against associating with me, on threat of facing a similar disinheritance. Not all listen, thankfully.” There’s a shrug, and she sips her tea, still smirking slightly, “I really do not travel much - being here is the farthest from my birthplace I have been, and that flight it is not something I particularly look forward to repeating any time soon.” She lashes her tail demonstratively, and shakes her head in response to Mariot, “No - I am a fairly recent arrival - my brother and I were brought on in May. Separately, actually. Neither of us knew the other was here until we saw each other in the foyer the first day.” She chuckles, and waves a hand airily, wrinkling her nose a bit as she talks about schooling, “We had private tutors as children, lest my “deformity” become known and besmirch the family name. We were sequestered right through secondary school and college, and then we attended separate universities in England.” A smirk graces her wine colored lips, and she continues, “That is a decidedly long story, our attending university. But, regardless, I am here to teach English and mind the library, and he teaches Chemistry. Though he rarely leaves his beloved new lab. So much Science!” She raises a hand as though having a eureka! moment, but then just falls back into a happy laughter Mallory snorts and smiles brightly, turning her attention back to Faelan, “If you would like to look over the list, and start pulling the books, I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you.” She glances down at her desk and finally picks up a small manilla folder, with a handful of sheets of paper in it, “Here you go, Faelan. This is the list for the first class this afternoon - the books are mostly in the literary criticism section, and a handful from the history section. Feel free to mix them up a bit on the cart. Give me a shout if you need assistance finding anything, yes?” Handing over the folder, she offers a reassuring nod. “I am a rather recent arrival, myself. Though I was directed here by Moira - Moira MacTaggert, that is,” Mariot says, smiling slightly. “She… took an interest in me, after I was referred to her laboratory, and was kind enough to help to arrange my coming here. I’ve spent quite a lot of time away, since my formal start, but I have tried to be useful whenever I am around.” A wry smile is directed at Faelan. “Even if I fear that I have been quite useless as an individual supervisor.” “History and literary criticism?” Faelan glances between Mariot and Mallory at that, “Are you two planning on causing the winter session students to cry the entire duration or just want to cause panic attacks right before the Christmas break?” He smiles slightly at the little joke, to show it was meant that way. Opening the folder and glancing over the list, he hrms abit and nods. “I should be able find everything, I don’t think too many of those books are currently outstanding. Maybe some of the history ones, but yeah...nobody checks out criticisms for fun.” Looking to Mariot again, Faelan offered a small smile. “It’s alright. I know I was a difficult case. I needed the therapy more than I needed supervising. And having responsibilities have helped me out a bit. When you are a student, its different then when you have a job. Even if the job is where you were a student.” He nods again at that and flips through looking to the folder. “Were there any else? Or should I get that after I finish these?” he asks Mallory. “I am not entirely certain /how/ my application ended up crossing the desk here, but I am incredibly thankful that it did,” Mallory says with a chuckle, “I cannot say I have had much opportunity to leave campus since I arrived in the Spring.” She finishes off her tea and sets the thermos out of sight on her desk, typing a few things into the computer while she thinks about it. “But that would explain, perhaps, why we seem to miss having an actual chance to chat, if you have been on travel so often,” Mallory says to Mariot with a toothy smile, offering an apologetic shrug. To Faelan, she laughs brightly, shaking her head, “Goodness, no. This time it is not my fault - one of the other English teachers is inflicting this. Christmas break is sacrosanct to me - I refuse to impede on the holidays, especially after the year some of these students have had.” She crosses her arm and gestures at the holiday book displays at the front of the room, “I was planning on asking the students to pick two different holiday legends or stories to read, and write a comparative essay about it. Preparation for the AP exams, if anyone is actually looking for the academic reasoning behind it.” An easy shrug and she nods at the folder, “Get started on those, if you would like. I’ll talk to you about the next assignment once you get that done - it’s more complicated, and I still need to double check a few of the references before the list is completed. Thank you though - I really do appreciate the help.” “I’m truly glad to see you happy,” Mariot directs to Faelan, her tone warmly sincere. “And I can agree with the importance of having something to do. It can transform one’s view of the world - and of oneself.” “That has, I confess, been something of a problem for me at times,” she admits, offering Mallory a wry smile. “There are abilities vastly more flashy and impressive than my own. But… every now and then I get to be useful. Though it wasn’t tested in detail, I am apparently the best available candidate for someone who might be wholly immune to the memetic ‘zombie’ virus. I could do nothing to cure it, but I could be of some use to Moira as a mobile asset. And it’s not as if over-many of the students here miss their Advanced World History tutor.” “Ahh, okay. Then I will not interrupt the griping of the students about how mean it was to receive this english paper to do.” Nodding, Faelan glances to list again then closes the folder up. Looking to Mariot, he blushes slightly. “Your power is why you were assigned as my supervisor to begin with. I can’t accidentally teleport you anywhere after all. Being immune to things is a pretty big deal, since it makes you safe against some of the more dangerous mutants out there. At least as long as they fall under certain categories.” Glancing between the two, he looks back to the folder. “Alright, this wont get done with me standing here. I’ll be going about the shelves if you guys need me. Enjoy the chat.” Inclining his head to both, he sets off to his task, bringing the empty cart along with him. Mallory snorts and shakes her head, “Flashy mutations are /vastly/ overrated, I can assure you. Not that there aren’t some amazing examples around here, but from personal experience, sometimes subtlety is a grand thing.” One hand raises to brush along the length of a horn, an idle fidget, apparently, as she speaks, “That is amazing. I avoided that virus by sheer luck, it would seem - one of a handful who did not fall ill, despite being quite regularly around the infected.” There is no explanation provided to the faint blush that rises briefly to her cheeks at this statement, and she nods, her tone a touch somber, “I am certain you were missed - and it is good to have you back on campus. The faculty did suffer some losses during the whole mess.” Her attention turns once again to Faelan, and she smiles, “Thank you, Faelan. I greatly appreciate it.” Mallory watches as her assistant heads off on his task, and once he is out of earshot, she says to Mariot, “He really is an excellent assistant. Smart kid, too. I realize this has been a huge help for him, even if he still has a long way to go before he is ready to venture out into the world at large.” She sighs and shakes her head again, frowning, “It is astounding, just how much some of these kids have gone through before arriving here.” “When first I met him, I admit that my immediate impulse was to try to help him,” Mariot quietly answers, smiling slightly as she does so. Her gaze lingers for a few moments on the direction the now-departed Faelan took, perhaps in part to avoid focusing upon Mallory’s blush. “And believe me, I am aware of the merits that my ability possesses… but there can be rather a deep frustration to having the most active thing I can do be to touch someone - and thereafter hope that whatever might target us will fall within those particular categories that Faelan mentioned. After all, being presumed to be immune to infection did not make me any less vulnerable to the other dangers posed by the virus. ‘Don’t worry, they can only kill us’ isn’t the most effective line of reassurance one might hope to offer.” “I became accustomed to thinking of myself as capable. Certainly not as someone able to handle everything the world might send my way, but at least likely to have some notion of how people might do so. The past couple of years have been… challenging for that particular mindset.” Mariot smiles ruefully, chuckling faintly as she shakes her head. “I’m still adjusting. In that regard, the School is both a very welcome boon, and a near-constant source of new surprises. Faelan having proved to be among the nicer ones.” “I have had that same instinct with nearly every student I have met since arriving here,” Mallory admits, scratching at the base of one horn idly, “Half the time when I hear what they have been through, I just want to sit them down, give them a cup of cocoa and a cookie, and promise everything will turn out alright.” She snorts, shaking her head, “Despite that being a huge falsehood - and so many of them know it all too well.” She wrinkles her nose at the experimentation, “Oh, dear, I imagine that is rather terrifying. I have had a situation in which powers misfired on me - amazingly, only once since my arrival here. Resulted in the lovely set of hoof shaped scorch marks that still have not been /entirely/ removed from the pool deck.” Mallory looks a bit sheepish at this statement, offering a guilty shrug. “So powers cannot lock on to you?” she questions, her tone curious. “And yes - this school is absolutely amazing, for students and for the staff, I have found. I dearly wish my brother and I had been able to attend, even for a short time. Things would have been so different from how they turned out.” The librarian shakes her head, smiling, “Well, adjusting, learning, if nothing else, Xavier’s is excellent for that.” “I have certainly found him to be rather impressive thus far,” Mariot agrees with a laugh. “And… yes. That’s pretty much it, for my ability. To other people’s manifestations of the X-Gene, I don’t register as existing… and I can extend that to others, by touch. Though it becomes rather taxing, and those who are aware of my existence by some other means can attempt to break through the resistance of my ability and ‘lock onto’ me.” “But… it’s not nearly so broad-ranging as it sounds. If someone possessed of paranormal strength punches me, then there’s nothing my ability will do to help: his power affects his muscles, the speed of his hand, and so forth. If however, he’s got wholly mundane muscles and his power amplifies the force of a punch in his target… then the power will fizzle, because as far as it is concerned, there’s nothing there to affect.” “So… against many of our kind, I am absolutely useless, save as a form of test-subject. ‘Yes, he really can affect me!’ might reveal some useful information about someone’s abilities, but I have little way of knowing in advance quite how X-abilities actually function on a detailed level. Faelan, at least, was one of the more obvious ones. There was no way he could possibly teleport me without his ability directly attempting an interaction with me… and therefore I was completely safe from random disappearances.” “Still… I’m glad that I’ve never had the opportunity to make quite the sort of impression you mentioned. In terms of ‘reining in’ my ability, I’ve got it about as easy as is possible.” “Mm, doubt you’d be protected against mine, in that case. My transformation only affects me, but the whole fiery plasma being thing just generally sets most flammable things alight,” Mallory snorts, waving a hand somewhat dismissively in the air, though her tone is quite apologetic. “I do not know the details of my powers, but I fear it is typically a touch too destructive to address in most laboratory settings. Although… huh, I doubt Thomas would be able to affect you though - his likely requires a form of targeting, at least for the ride along feature of his powers. Likely a good thing - it is not a pleasant experience.” Shaking her head, Mallory shrugs, a relaxed smirk on her lips, “Evolution - not always the most elegant or sensical force of nature. Sometimes all we can do is cope and hope it turns out decently.” She smiles gently, and shrugs again, “I can rein in my abilities, at least the transformation - it typically takes extreme emotional upset, or an external stimulus to trigger it, so that is thankfully very rare. The rest? Well, there is only so far that concealing clothing will go, in my case. Being in public can be awkward at times, if I care to care.” The librarian makes a dismissive gesture at her obviously non-human appearance, with a relatively relaxed smile, though a barest cringe is notable in her expression. Mariot nods, offering Mallory a sympathetic look. “I confess to having initially asked Moira some rather blunt and insensitive questions about whether or not bearing the X-gene meant that I was going to ‘turn into’ anything,” she admits sheepishly. “The more dramatic transformations have rather lingered in the popular imagination, and I am frequently guiltily pleased to be able to have my accent viewed as the most exotic thing about me.” “Still… the plasma manipulation…” Mariot frowns pensively, folding her arms and chewing her lower lip. “It’s one of those for which the details could vary, even simply on what precisely you can do with it. Turning yourself into plasma, I can’t affect. There’s the theoretical possibility that I might learn to nullify people’s access to their own abilities, effectively removing their ability to ‘target’ themselves, but… that has some rather frightening implications, and I have been nervous about pursuing that line of investigation. More readily… if you could, say, point at something and decide “that woman’s hair will ignite now”, then my ability could interfere with it: there clearly has to be a direct interaction between the X-manifestation and the chosen target for it to catch light. However, if you conjured up a ball of fire in your hand and threw it, relying on hand-eye coordination and treating the flame-ball as a physical object… then I’d have to dodge it, or hope you missed, since your talent would simply be affecting the fire, not interfacing directly with me. I might possibly nullify the ball of fire once it hit me: but that would still mean I’d had at least momentary contact with it, which would probably not be very good for my health. Of course, that gets even more complex if you have a secondary talent that helps with targetting, separate to one that lets you throw around balls of fire even if you’re blind or confused, but… I tend to hope that I don’t need to delve into that kind of detail. We could potentially do a little testing of the precise nature of your abilities rather more safely, if you wanted. I can extend my ‘protection’ to something I touch. So I could try to ‘shield’ something, and you could then test how readily the other end of it ignites. So long as you don’t simply incinerate things instantly, and I can wear some protective gear, it should be safe enough. If not something to do anywhere the students can see.” Mallory quirks an eyebrow at the initial statement, chuckling, “I believe that is a common fear, to be honest. Insensitive or not, the X-Gene does not exactly have a track record for being kind to those who carry it. I was born with some obvious mutations, my brother was not - but we both experienced some rather drastic changes after our genes fully activated. Dramatic transformations, aside.” She shrugs and smiles, “Most people hardly even notice my accent at this point - far too distracted by the other oddities that being ‘not from around here’ doesn’t cross their minds.” She shakes her head, listening to Mariot explain her abilities in further detail, “My abilities are no where near that granular, to my understanding, at least. With concentration, I can will my body to ignite. Alternately, we know of at least two other mutants who can trigger the transformation with their powers, my brother, and Professor Suresh.” It is not exactly a secret among the faculty that Mallory and Aloke are in a relationship - the rumors about their power interactions are a little more hazy, though. A heavy sigh escapes her lips, and she continues, “Over the course of one very agonizing minute, my corporeal form is used as fuel for the fire. From that, it’s pretty much just being fire - not on fire, just, I am flames. Only way I can set things on fire is by approaching them or touching, assuming they’re flammable - from what I have seen the few times I have done this, I am just an incredibly hot, concentrated fire being. Not even sure if I can throw fireballs… never been particularly keen to try that.” Mallory looks down at her hand, frowning at the dark nails and deep red skin as she talks, “Other than being flashy and destructive, my mutation isn’t particularly useful. And once I return to a solid form, I am absolutely starving.” Her brow wrinkles slightly at the idea of experimenting, shrugging, “I… have been meaning to speak to Hank about this, to be honest, possibly run through some tests in the Danger Room, away from the students and anything easily,” she pauses, looking around her beloved library, “Flammable.” She leans back against her chair, crossing her arms over her chest in a casual manner, “I really should find out more about it - but, well, it isn’t a pleasant experience, and I have not been exactly willing to subject myself to that for experimenting.” Mariot winces sharply upon hearing that Mallory’s ability literally consumes her flesh as fuel, before listening intently to the remainder of the explanation - a pensive frown creasing her brow, her own arms remaining folded. “Mmm. I could certainly see what I could do to help with that, if you wanted. I have Danger Room privileges myself, and would gladly help out. But… it frankly sounds horrible for you, so I certainly don’t want to push you into it. I’d hate to make anyone feel as if they were being used as a guinea pig.” “Apologies - it is a bit gruesome, I suppose,” Mallory says at the wince, rubbing her arm anxiously and staring fixedly at a spot on her desk, “I have only experienced it a small handful of times in my life, and yet I am still not entirely used to it. At times I doubt I will ever be fully accustomed to the sensation.” She shakes her horned head and offers an apologetic smile, “Perhaps I will take you up on the offer in time. I still do not quite know how ready I am to address that aspect of myself. But… thank you.” “You’re entirely welcome, I assure you,” Mariot says warmly. “And please… don’t worry about my discomfort. I still have quite a bit of adjustment to do, if I’m to be anywhere near as much use as I would like, here at the School. Don’t feel at all responsible for my being wet behind the ears.” She glances around, then offers a wry smile. “I should probably let at least one of us do a little work, I suspect. And I really must apologize for not only delaying you, but for doing so with personal - and awkward - conversation. I hope that you can forgive me for blundering in, in such a heavy-footed manner.” Mallory chuckles, a polite bow of her head in deference, “Fair enough, though I still offer apologies.” A soft sigh, and she shakes her head, continuing to speak as she starts rummaging around her desk, organizing things for the day to come, “Speaking to people about their mutations can be difficult to adjust to; I have become relatively comfortable speaking about it at this point, especially after the incident at the pool made it somewhat more known, thanks to the rumor mill that is a small private school.” Shrugging, Mallory continues setting up her desk, opening up her log books and such, “Oh, please don’t apologize for that. Early mornings are blissfully calm around the library, with only a handful of teachers typically stopping in, maybe the stray student.” The librarian stifles a yawn, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, “Beg pardon. I hope I haven’t bored you with my half awake babbling, either. It was good to be able to speak with you for longer than a few moments, though.” As she speaks, a small group of students wander into the library, looking slightly lost, and Mallory chuckles, starting to step out from behind the information desk to greet them, “Ah, that said, I appear to have jinxed myself. Duty calls; but I shall catch you around campus another time. Faelan is around if you still need assistance finding those books you were looking for. Have a lovely day, Mariot.” She offers a genuine smile, and turns her attentions to the group of newly arrived students. Mariot looked somewhat surprised, shaking her head at mention of her possibly having been bored by the conversation, but thereafter settles for offering a grin and raising a hand in farewell as she opts to absent herself rather than further distract the librarian from her duties. Let the hunt for distracting literature commence!