tampered | LOG: Ongoing~

Current Mood: cheerful

LOG: Ongoing~

When; Backdated to afternoon of August 29th
Rating; Should be G? (O-or PG, maybe, but I doubt it)
Characters; Raven Roth (

unkindnessof) and Gabriel Van Helsing (

compactcrucifix)
Summary; So Raven works at the library. And Gabe hasn't caused enough trouble, so he decides to go see her. IS THIS SUMMARY ENOUGH FOR YOU?
Log;

Van Helsing hadn't had much opportunity--or desire--to sit in libraries. As nice as books were, they didn't help him in his job much, and although he appreciated the quiet, one could get an approximation of the same in a forest at nighttime.

Of course, this was different. There was no sitting. As he slipped into the building with the grace and noiselessness of a cat, he smiled to himself. This was a hunt.

And his prey was wearing blue, he reminded himself, looking around.

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It was a rather ordinary day in the Library, Raven thought as she worked on a cart in the Philosophy section (though half an hour ago, it'd been the Theology section). The shelves had only switched on her twice that morning and, as she reached out absently to snag a book attempting a disappearing act, Raven noted that she should be finished the cart soon. If the entire layout didn't change again within the next ten minutes.

Not that Van Helsing was clued in to the odd nature of the library by the titles of the books--Carl had joked at times that the hunter barely knew how to read. It was somewhat odd how the layout of the place seemed to change every time he turned his head, though. Almost a challenge.

He skulked around a corner, and then stopped, ducking back upon acquisition of his target. It was going to be difficult. He wanted to grapple on something, but that was far too noisy. Raven was a very astute person; not at all easy to surprise.

Gabe clicked the palm-catch of his glove, triggering the metal climbing claws, and started to scale the side of the shelf, keeping an eye on her absently. He wanted to get at least ten feet up, for maximum drama. He paused, trying to be as quiet as possible.

There was something to be said for feeling comfortable around someone; it meant that you were comfortable with their aura as well and more liable to miss it. As such, all Raven was alerted to presently was a vague familiarity and found her eyes glancing down to make sure the book she'd picked out earlier for one monster hunter was still there. She'd picked it up at a nearby bookstore after work yesterday, having seen it in the shop window and deciding that he'd like. Or, at least, stand to read it through. Raven wasn't expecting the Library to assimilate it, but well, better safe than sorry.

A soft sound made her glance up, but seeing nothing, she shrugged and dismissed it. Barnabas being in the Library attributed to most of the sometimes odd noises she'd hear while on duty. Though that familiar sensation was becoming stronger...

And of course the concept of empathy as a power had slipped Van Helsing's mind completely, if he ever understood it to begin with (here was a man who thought vampires and warlocks were even vaguely similar). But even if he had remembered, he probably wouldn't change a thing; scaling across the shelf very carefully, keeping his weight distributed evenly to avoid a catastrophic tipping of bookcases or anything else equally embarrassing.

And then, dramatically, utterly, ghostly silent, without even the breathy squeak of leather or clink of chain, he dropped from the bookcase, twisting like a cat in midair to land just behind her, facing her. Straightened up.

Reached out with one gloved hand, preparing himself to tap her shoulder and announce himself.

Well that was odd, Raven frowned to herself, seconds before Van Helsing's impressive (though sadly unnecessary) impression of Batman. There was no reason his presence should weigh so heavily on her mind, unless... ah. Well, unless he was in fact, present. And as she becomes consciously aware of it, Raven can indeed pick out his aura, edging closer along the peripheral of her mind.

So when he dropped like the silent hunter he was supposed to be behind her, Raven's mouth curled into a ghost of a smile for the briefest of seconds. "Hello, Van Helsing." Her voice maintained its dry calmness and she didn't even turn as she nonchalantly shelved another volume.

He blinked. Ran through the past few minutes in the inventory of his mind, trying to figure out what had alerted her. Found nothing.

Smiled as well, wholly sheepish, folding his arms. "Raven. I didn't surprise you?"

And now she turns to face him, expression still deadpan, one eyebrow raised, but she could feel the beginnings of a smirk fighting to form on her face.

"Don't worry, Van Helsing; you were the epitome of a super-spy." She paused, and brought one hand up to tap lightly at her temple. The smirk was winning out, slowly but surely. "But empath, remember? It takes more than perfect physical manoeuvres to surprise me."

He tries not to let it show how impressed he is, but it's there in his voice. "That would make you almost impossible to surprise."

Well, except for one thing, and it's something he kinda felt like doing anyway. With the air of a man exhausting the last of a bag of extensive tricks, Gabriel van Helsing moved forward--and hugged his prey. Firmly, even.

"Not impossible, just--mmrph!"

Her sentence is abruptly cut off as she's pulled into the hug. Her first reaction is still to tense up, but it takes less to relax nowadays and Van Helsing is almost surrogate family to her here. So Raven relaxes her muscles slowly and stands there, her posture saying to all the world that she is allowing the hug and she's resolutely not being given the warm fuzzies by it. Really. She stoically ignores the entire cart of books levitating a good three feet off the ground and the books themselves doing an odd rendition of a jig in midair.

And while he's committed himself to the course of suicide, he decides to pat her back a little, and then steps away from her, both to admire his handiwork and to hopefully buy a second to flee, if such should prove necessary.

He looks up at the books. Down at her. Up at the books. Decides to deny the evidence of his eyes, in favor of self preservation, and smiles at her innocently.

"Do you need help sorting those?"

There is a very good attempt at a glare being directed at you, Van Helsing. That is, before she remembers that she's supposed to be tolerating the sentimentality with dignity and gives a little huff before looking away. If he's really generous, maybe he'll ignore the slight pinkness around her ears.

"No, I've got it." She redirects her not-glare at the floating books as if they'd betrayed her somehow and they all scatter, presumably to ~~hide~~ shelf themselves away in their proper places. Only one remained behind, still floating, though now hurling itself toward the hunter to stop dangerously close to his face.

"Here. This one (http://www.harpercollinschildrens.com/harperchildrens/harperchildrensimages/isbn/large/4/9780060783334.jpg)'s yours."

Ah, dignity. What an elusive object. Van Helsing does, in fact, notice the not-quite-a-blush, but mercifully says nothing.

The hunter folds his arms, and it takes every ounce of Vatican training not to flinch back from the book--that and some healthy trust in Raven not to clobber him even when he deserves it utterly.

He reaches up with gloved hands to take it, smiling a little, "The Dangerous Alphabet." Peeks over the cover to see her face, using the book like a shield, "More or less dangerous than you, Raven?"

Well, he must have some survival instincts at least.

"You tell me," she replies, smirk in her voice rather than worn for him to see. "Do you think you can stand to read it? There are monsters and giants and even pirates."

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LOG: Ongoing~

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