you call them 'intellectuals' here {open}

[Ҩ Jonathan Empris]

^:you break my heart still i'm your martyr^:
_:they say love hurts - now i know_:

NY Public Library.

When Jon sat around at the library at school, he was a 'nerd'. When he sat around here, he was still a 'nerd', but people seemed to respect him more. How he measured this was the way they didn't talk about him, or make fun of him. Which was always a bonus when you were just trying to read a good book.

In his hands a shiny new hardcover rested comfortably. The title was visible just above where the book sat on his knees, Indistinguishable From Magic, a sci-fi novel about a genius who accidentally sends his girlfriend back in time during one of his many experiments. Jon could relate to the hero, which is why he's already on page 149 and he only started reading an hour ago. Reading a good book for Jon was comparable to an all you can eat buffet for Kenneth. He could devour words as easily as if they were chicken wings.

He was so engrossed in the novel that his surroundings evaporated. The library no longer existed, and the only world he knew was the Arthurian landscape being painted in his mind from the contagious words on page 149. And 150. And 151.

If he weren't so good at controlling his power, the book might have melted with the intensity of his stare. The plot was reaching it's climax, where Gwen is sentenced to burn for her infidelities, and the little boy inside Jon is looking around frantically for Lancelot. Where is he? He should be here! Look, they've lit the pier! He can't just leave his lover to burn! His heart rate increases, his breathing accelerates - how can Arthur just watch her die? And then with a giant crash!-

He was interrupted. It was like being smacked in the face with a water balloon.

lyrics are from Failure Of A Secular Life by Leave With Me

[derrick]

Derrick hadn't actually planned on going to the library, not that he didn't like libaries, he did. Derrick just liked to know things, but he usually preferred museums over libraries. Why? Because he could friggin' talk in a museum at least. Here, if he talked to a certain volume he was shushed by, like, twelve people. Not to mention he had to leave Bell outside in one of the flower pots hanging on the window seal. He hated leaving her places, even if it was right outside and he was going to let her in anyways, he still felt bad. Why? Because he didn't want to leave that sweet, mutt, three legged cat outside in the cruel world to fend for herself. He was too nice.

Derrick was so distracted with the thoughts of his poor kitten that he just happened to walk right into something. Only when the metal cart of books crashed to the floor, nearly brining him down with it, did he even register that he walked into the damn thing. It made a loud crash and Derrick, half crouching half standing from catching himself, looked up to see all eyes on him. Standing strait now he held his hands up, as if surrendering to something.
"Sorry, sorry 'bout that. My bad."
No really, what idiot puts a cart right there? He scooped it up and tossed the remaining books inside, considerably less orderly than they were before.

He walked towards the back to get away from attention and be alone. Derrick went to the windows and as he walked by looked intently out each one, as if they were dirty and he was trying to see through them. Finally he found the window that Bell was outside of sitting in the flower pot where he left her. He tapped the glass lightly to get her attention.
"Hello there, how's my baby? Ooo I know, I know, it's cold outside."
He was making one of those ridiculous voices that aunts often made to speak to their baby nephews and nieces, one might even thing he was talking to he glass like a nutter.

He took a quick glance around before prying the window open a little, reaching out, and pulling Bell in. Once inside the small cat shook the loose water from her ears.
"There ya go, all nice and warm now? Yes you are, yes you are."
Again, the aunt voice. But he couldn't help it, how many cats were out there that had this adorable calico pattern, big ears, and wide eyes. Sure, her front, right leg was gone, but to Derrick it only made her all the cuter.

[Ҩ Jonathan Empris]

Jon's eyes were among the many that looked up and zeroed in on Derrick and his unfortunate cart incident. Automatically Jon, the knight in shining armour as it were, got to his feet the moment Derrick knelt to remedy his mistake. He started over, but Derrick was done throwing the books haphazardly back onto the cart and off to some other location.

Jon watched Derrick go, and got to his knees to adjust the books so they looked a little less helter-skelter. Then he pushed the cart to a side aisle where it wouldn't be so intrusive - Derrick was right; an idiot put it in the middle of the hall.

Then he heard high-pitched whispering, like a mother cooing to her baby. Only slightly less feminine. Slightly. He poked his head around the corner and saw the cart-kicker turning away from the window, talking to his jacket. Ookay...?

Not wanting to be rude and stare, or awkward and converse with a crazy person, Jon spun around to head back to his comfy chair and thrilling novel - and knocked over the book cart.

Blood rushed to colour his cheeks as the entire library stopped what they were doing to turn and look at him, expressions mixed with irritation and disbelief. Twice in five minutes? Seriously? Jon felt a little more pity for the other boy, and ducked around the book shelves to hide his face.

"Well, that sucks," Jon commented in a hushed, embarrassed voice. He looked to his right and saw Derrick, and the object he was chatting to was visible this time. Ohh, so he wasn't crazy. He was just talking to a cat in a library... why was there a cat in the library? "Uh... hey...?" The question was in his gaze, but he didn't dare voice it aloud. He was too shy to confront to situation head-on.

[derrick]

Derrick glanced up when he heard the same noise that he had caused just moments ago only to see another poor soul being harrassed by that damned cart. That cart hated people, it must have some kind vendetta against humans, or attractive young males, whatever it was it was just mean. As the boy ducked away from embarassment Derrick attempted to peak thorugh the rows of books he was hiding behind.

"I think he be a wee bit shy, Bell."
Derrick whispered to his cat with a tiny chuckle. Yes, he was having one of those very rare days were he wasn't being a total ass-hat to everyone and making snide, sarcastic comments every chance he got, but instead speaking to his cat like a doting big sister, or aunt, or mother, or in some cases a father. However this time the book cart was left to be picked up by the even meaner library managers. He didn't know why, but the stereotype that libarians were always mean seemed to b fitting pretty well in New York.

When a voice seemed to be directed at him he turned to see Jonathan, half crouched behind a book case, staring at him (well, staring at Bell) with a face full of question. Oh of course, why the hell would he fathom to bring a cat into a library. Derrick held Bell with one handand with his free hand pointed to the window.
"It's raining outside."
He stated simply, his face was that of a four-year-old proving an obvious fact, though his voice was ver matter-of-factly.

[Ҩ Jonathan Empris]

Jon just nodded, as though the weather made all the sense in the world for a cat to be inside. He recognized Derrick as a caring person; they were easy to identify when you shared so much in common. Jon would likely do the same thing.

He hadn't noticed it raining out though; it was overcast when he arrived at the library, but nothing more. The ceiling must be so thick that the pitter-patter of raindrops couldn't reach his ears. And the lighting too artificial to reveal the dirty glow from the dripping windows. It was amazing how oblivious to the real world one could be when immersed in a good book. Eager as he was to return to his novel, he was logical enough to measure priorities and manners. The book could wait, as it would always be here, or at least would always be accessible. People came first, and uh, in this case, animals too.

"There's a uhm.. a hand dryer in the restroom," Jon offered, motioning down the hall. He didn't know if Derrick was planning on drying the cat off or anything like that. What did one do with a wet cat? Instantly Jon was glad Kenneth wasn't here to make inappropriate jokes. He had a feeling Derrick wouldn't appreciate being asked what he was doing with a wet pussy.

sorry it's so short!that's what he said

[derrick]

Derrick eyed the other for a few more minutes before he finally spoke again. He told him there were hand dryers in the bathroom. Oh good, he wasn't going to rat them out. Derrick smiled and held Bell up, rubbing his nose on her head.
"Let's go dry you off then."
He smiled to the stranger then turned to head into the bathroom.
"Nobody likes a wet pussy."
Niceness, shattered. Jackassary, resuming.

Derrick vanished into the back of the library where he wandered for a moment before finally finding the bathroom. He stepped inside and picked up a few of the hand towels and began to rub Bell down while holding her under the little hand dryer. For the most part, she was fine with warm air blowing over her, but the noise she didn't like. He could tell because she was scratching at his hand with her only front paw.

Derrick heard a flush and shortly after a business like man, who reminded him of Agent Smith from the Matrix, was standing near him washing his hand. He started to stare at the cat, and Derrick happened a glance up, but ignored him and continued to dry his cat off. After a few minutes, and the man was still staring, Derrick finally shut off the hand dryer and turned to him, a dry (and pretty poofy) Bell in his arms.
"Have you ever seen a three legged cat before, Agent Smith?"

The man turned towards him, his expression angering as he placed his hands on his hips.
"Now you look here, young man--"
Derrick wasn't about to let this old prude lecture him.
"Look I know you should really be beating the crap out of Mr. Anderson right now, so I won't take up your time. Bye!"
"You better get you and that cat out of the library before I report you to security!"

"Jackass."
He muttered as he walked out of the bathroom. As he exited he heard the man follow shortly after.
"You lack serious respect young man!"
He called after Derrick, trying to catch up with him. Derrick continued, didn't turn around, but squinted his eyes slightly and a moment later the man's shoes were a liquid goo. As the bewildered man stood there, dumbfounded, Derrick smiled to himself and ducked behind some book shelves to watch the show.

[Ҩ Jonathan Empris]

Jon practically choked to death from trying to stifle his laughter as Derrick flaunted the joke he'd so carefully been suppressing. Ken would like this guy, and Jon felt like his dark humour would appeal to Dorian too. He should befriend him... oh, wait. He's leaving.

Jon watched him disappear to the back of the library, and he stood there awkward in the aisle he'd been hiding in. Well, that opportunity was lost faster than he was able to blink. He really had to get on top of things! Take chances, go with his gut... but that wasn't the kind of person Jon was. He always had to careful calculate every move he made before he did it, weigh his chances of success against the likelihood of failure. Derrick was one of those shoot first kind of guys, Jon could tell.

He decided he'd make his way to the restroom, as though remembering that he too needed to use its facilities. But before he had a chance to even get inside, Derrick was leaving. And before Jon had the chance to think of an excuse for following the boy, some older man emerged specifically to yell at Derrick.

Jon wasn't sure what to do, caught in the middle of this. He heard Derrick mutter an insult under his breath, and the cry of surprise from the guy standing in the doorway. He followed the man's gaze down to his shoes, and instantly Jon's heart rate accelerated.

Derrick could alter the state of matter.

"Yo!" Jon called, chasing after the boy and his cat, hoping Derrick wouldn't be inspired to melt his shoes too, "Wait up!" He followed Derrick behind the book case.