[Log status: Incomplete]

[neomit-eve.livejournal.com]

When; Morning-ish, May 8
Rating; PG tops
Characters; Nikolai Trofimov and Eve Brea
Summary; Meeting at tha library
Log;

It was quite a fancy library by the cities standard, seemingly left over from a more decorative age. The wide eyed blonde child; Eve, who had just managed to find her way in couldn’t help stare, starry eyed at all the books around her. Any thought of Melissa being upset fell to the floor.

Books. Lot’s of books Lots and lots of things she didn’t know, nor knew she hadn’t the faintest idea about. She felt the flicker of excitement, like the striking of a match; carry her legs to the nearest shelf. Haphazardly yanking several books from the middle shelf, causing another six to fall to the floor Eve looked at the piles, top title.

“ Childs… En-cy-clo-pedia.” She sounded out . Her smile widened; yes she liked those. Turning on her heel, forgetting to pick up the fallen volumes, eyes still glued to the various illustrations on the cover, Eve didn’t have the time to stop herself from bumping into a strange male figure

“Umph.”

Comments

[neomit-eve.livejournal.com]

His name was strange; in the fact having more than two implied he was more than one person. Eve wondered whether to call him by the first name he’d stated or the second he’d divulged as he crouched down and made a comment about her book.

These books were her main source of the world around her, the only thing her memory replied on to piece things together. Eve nodded politely “Nikolai-Lord-Trofimov…What do you read?”

[wickedplaywrite.livejournal.com]

The dictator paused, not quite sure how to address that - the custom of naming seemed different across countries, even, so he could hardly expect a seamless translation across the border of worlds.

"Nikolai will do," He corrected carefully, "And many things.. historical accounts, autobiographies, plays... a well rounded education is its own reward."

He paused, an errant thought flitting through his mind, "Do you--have family here?"

[neomit-eve.livejournal.com]

Nodding in agreement with ‘Nickolai’ she committed the name to memory. It seemed strange, a name she had not yet heard of, but it had a certain mystery about it. A charm by many stretches of the imagination.

“Nikolai…” she began as if leading up to an uncertain question. Having no real frame of reference, once again, Eve was unable to fix the word with its proper subject matter.

“What’s an autobiography?”