Old Tomes and New Gadgets {Open}

Living on the streets had taught Fade to take advantage of places open to the general public. These places included malls, libraries and museums. However, Fade hardly ever took advantage of libraries and museums. Perhaps if she had finished grade school and knew how to read without pause or understand what each exhibit or section of the library told what story. No, museums required money before entering, something she did not have enough to pay for silly stuff and libraries were full of books that she could not read. She only entered libraries when it was raining outside and she had no where else to go.

Those days were long over, ever since she found the Mansion, that glorious place that gave her a warm bed, a house full of mutant friends and that directed her down the right path of good morals. Though she had not mastered reading, she was getting better. It was a boring day, and what better way to spend it then to hide her attempts at learning how to read? She would have been too embarassed to admit to anyone at the Mansion that a 21 year old had never learned how to read. Truth be told, she should have learned when she was 16, but she was not admitted to the school as a student, she needed the place to stay and Tricity opened the school for her.

When Fade began fighting for the Mansion, she seemed to fall out of that 'yes, I'm here to study' category, especially with her special needs. Reading had become less of a priority and she was too embarassed to even teach herself amongst Mansion company. The library was not exactly swarming, but she doubted library patrons ever did that. She looked around, pulling random book after random book off of the shelf and passing judgement on it. Some of them were too long and too heavy, she needed to start with something light enough so she would not have too much difficulty, but heavy enough so no one gave her any weird looks. She doubted beginning with the Bernstein Bears would not call attention to herself.

She continued down the rows, trying to find a book that fit her needs and had an interesting book cover. There were some with women being passionately held by partially clothed men, which sort of made her blush with embarassment before returning the books. Other books were rather bland and large, they seemed to match the next few books around them, they were part of some sort of educational series. Curiously, she opened one of them and found pictures, enough pictures to let her know what the segment in the book was about. Confused on whether she should pick that to read, she stood awkwardly in front of the empty slot in the bookshelf, holding the book open while resting it on her hip. Her eyes scanned the book, flipping a few of the pages every now in then to decide whether she was satisfied with this choice.

Someone interrupted with a small, studdering voice. Fade's presently green eyes rose to take in the person who had intruded on her decision making. Although she did not catch what he had said, she guessed that he needed to get by to put something away, so she looked to the shelf to see if she was in his way, moving slightly to step out of his way. But before she was even able to finish the step, he spoke again, this time she was able to catch what he had said. Marie Currie? Who was that? Confused, she looked down at the book in her hands and scanned for the nearest possible capital M. There it was, M-a-r-i-e. Though Currie was not printed next to it, Fade assumed it was because the constant use of the subject’s last name was not necessary this far into the book. It was obvious that Marie Currie was a person, so had she happened to pick up a biography? Sure, she could use the education, but she was sure learning a broad range of things and then diving into specific historical people would be a better idea.

”Oh,” she said, now realizing what she had picked up. Embarrassed, she felt her cheeks begin to color red and she felt the urge to blink into invisibility. She was in a public place though, she was not at the Mansion so she had no idea whether the man in front of her was a mutant or just another human. She could not risk visibility blinking around him, so she tried to settle her embarrassment by coming up with a story about why she was holding the book. ”Just trying to decide who I should write my paper on,” she lied. Of course, knowing her luck, he would ask her what kind of paper she had to write, so she decided to answer the question first, ”I can write on anyone really, it’s just a practice paper, really,” she said, closing the book slowly.

The man seemed shy, judging by the way he let his hair fall in front of his face like a veil to keep up an imaginary wall. She did not want him to feel like she did not enjoy his company, she was growing tired of searching for a good book to ‘read’ without looking like an illiterate young woman. ”So who would you suggest?” she asked, deciding to make their interaction into a conversation. She had not exactly met anybody new for the past couple of days and it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

George Sand? Who was that? Fade's lack of education did kept her fairly limited on how many historical figures she knew about. For all she knew, George Sand could have been some famous dancer in the jungle that specialized on tapdancing upon elephants. Maybe she needed to watch more History and Discovery Channel specials. Perhaps that was how she could learn more without having to learn to read first. Yes, maybe shows were easier for a woman in her position. Still, she took the book and opened it to the first few words, scanning over them. A few words stood out most to her, mostly the words that consisted of one letter and the most common words such as 'the', 'and', 'of', and 'his'.

"Hmmm, never heard of him," she said, flipping through the pages, not learning much from them. He asked her what class the paper was for, which was what she hoped he did not ask her. However, she had not spent the past few seconds simply hoping he wouldn't ask it, she was thinking of something broad enough to include George Sand and Marie Currie while still being a legit class. "Oh, it's more like an intro class. Intro to College-uh" oh no! What was the word?! "Writing," she ended, trying hard not to make it sound more like a question.

He did not seem like he wanted to make eye contact, which was fine with Fade. With her ever-changing eyes, anyone that stared into them for too long, they usually put two and two together and realized her green eyes eventually turned blue then purple then red or whatever other color they really felt like turning. She always figured that in order to turn invisible, she had to mimic every color around her to blend in, which was why her eyes went all haywire. Yet she had met another who had the 'blend in' power and it was different than that. It was interesting.

The rain poured down on Cecilia like Heaven its self was splitting open at the seams. Considering she had read the weather report this morning, and had dressed for what has been forecast, now soaked through to the bone, she was far from pleased.
Originally, today seemed the perfect day to go out and explore her new city. She had found the hospital, a tailor, a shoe cobbler, a dry cleaner, and a few other stores that provided the goods and services she knew she couldn’t afford to live without. The day had gone well enough, until she now found herself caught in a downpour that felt like it might threaten to flood. She entered the first door that was open, not caring a stitch about what was behind it. She could have endured anything, from lawyers to burlesque dancers, if it meant she could dry off.
She walked carefully into the library, ensuring her wet shoes wouldn’t trip her up against the smooth, clean, tile. She tossed the wet newspaper into the first recycling bin she spied. The free celebrity rag newspaper had proved valuable when it came to shielding her hair and face from the rain, but her body was not so lucky. Her wide legged black trousers were damp throughout the pant legs, but the hems had been soaked numerous times by deep puddles and passing traffic that rudely spraying water onto her. Luckily, the heavy dark fabric barely showed a difference between being wet and dry.
She smoothed any fizz in her blonde pin-curled hair back into place as she looked around her surroundings. She didn’t hear, nor see a thing. Working quickly, as to not appear like a vulgar woman, she removed her grey blouse, rung it out into the same recycling bin she had utilized early, and stuffed it into her purse. She now wore a sleek black camisole tucked into her high waisted pants accented with a thick fabric belt made in the same material s the trousers. The camisole was trimmed delicately in Chantilly lace, with the lace layered over top of the thick straps that held the fabric tight against her shoulders. The cut was relaxed but still flattering to her womanly shape. She knew the camisole was not, in its self, inappropriate, but it was one thing to enter in such an outfit, and an entirely different image to strip down to it.
She applied a layer of dark red lipstick, knowing the outline of her lips so well from habit; she didn’t need the aid of a mirror. She cautiously walked further into the library, playing with the black beads of her 1920's Lariat necklace, wondering if she was indeed alone.