Doris
The sound of books hitting the wooden floor followed by a soft _"Shit"_ disturbed the otherwise silent atmosphere of the library. Florian, stubborn as ever, had been reaching for a book on one of the, from his sitting perspective, higher shelves. He'd managed to get the book, and about six others with it. _Bonus books, let's see what we've caught..._ He thought to himself. Unfortunately for him, only one of the stowaway books was of use to him. He'd come to the library to look for folklore, stories of things that went bump in the night, since werewolves were real now, maybe some of the stories written about them held grains of truth as well. He'd been taking notes on all the stories he could get his hands on, as he leaned forward to pick up the fallen books, his notebook tumbled out of his pocket. "Oh _come on..._" He sighed, reaching for the notebook which had fallen open, revealing a list in neat handwriting:
Thomas
Jasper had never been one for books. At least the man who he was once had found them... While not quite beneath him, but something reserved for others. Of course they could be of use, stolen sweet words penned by great poets were an easy trick, the mask of a sensitive soul he could play to his heart's content. 

But otherwise, books for those who refused to live. Scholars barricaded by shelves from the reality that probably terrified them, historians grasping desperately at the past to distract themselves from a future that marched forth without them. Silly girls with fluttering hearts, giggling as trembling fingers traced words they deep down knew no one would whisper in their ear. Jasper preferred to make the words not read them, carve his own path into the world. Or at least he had done.

Kind, helpful, quiet, hardworking. Polite. A little simple maybe, but nothing a little guidance wouldn't fix. He'd built his personality from his deck of cards, a hand he'd swept the table with more often than not. A new town, a new man, a new way to chip words to an accent one would neither remember nor place. A whole new con. But this time Jasper was playing the long game.

It was easy to see the trees stretching from earth to sky as bars of a jail cell when one worked their hands bloody to warp the word fear into the shape of captivity. It was easier to believe he was trapped and face each break of dawn with resignation than to face the possibility of running again. Or maybe in the deepest of his soul he knew fear was not of the unknown, but of admitting he was simply too broken to try again.

So here he was, walking the fabled mile in the boots of a man who apparently _read_. On what exactly, well that was a future problem. Worst case, Jasper figured he could leaf through a book on some herbal remedies and see if anything could be brewed into a good time. That at least would be an entertaining way to pass an afternoon.

However, his search had been the opposite of fruitful. Settled with his legs stretched in front of him, the heft of the book in his lap had shifted from potential to disappointment. Jasper had found nothing of interest. The clear cut opposite in fact, multitudes of boredom. He was close to scratching off the ability to read from his list of skills when a muttered curse word and several dull thuds broke his little moment of self pity. It appeared someone was having an even worse time than he was. Clambering to his feet with a small hiss of discomfort, he chose to investigate, hopeful it would at least offer more amusement than whatever mushroom he was currently studying.

The noises lead to a pile of books, obvious escapees of the shelf, and a slightly flustered young man in their midst. It was practiced ease to slip on the character, Jasper tailoring his smile from that of amusement to something closer to genuine warmth and a breath of concern. Helpful was his winning card after all. 

"Are you all right?" Jasper asked. Damn, his 'you' sounded wrong, the lilt off kilter to how he usually spun. Far too posh, too hollow. "I heard the noise and thought someone got a book to the head. They always falling. You need help?"
Doris
He looked up from the floor to see a man with kind brown eyes and a handsome face approaching. His hair was longer than most respectable men would have allowed it to get, but it suited this stranger. *It suited him very well indeed.* He smiled, thankful for the helping hand. "I managed to dodge my would-be attackers, thankfully my head is still very much intact." His pride less so, but it would heal. "If you wouldn't mind, I'm afraid the shelf is just slightly too high up for me." He laughed somewhat awkwardly, he didn't particularly enjoy causing a scene the way he had done.

Causing scenes came with the territory, unfortunately for the youngest Barca. He had managed to get himself stuck over tree roots, the cute steps into stores, knocked over items that had been delicately balanced atop tables, accidentally run over unsuspecting toes, the list went on. People were generally very willing to help, and it would not be such a problem if Florian had not been cursed with the near unstoppable need to prove how independent and capable he was. More often than not it was his inability to admit he needed help that got him caught in situations like the one he found himself in currently.

He grabbed his notebook and the books that he suspected might hold some information that he could use. Two on folklore and one on plants of North America and their uses. He wasn't particularly hopeful it contained a chapter detailing an 'easy 3-step plan for killing werewolves utilising this plant that grows in everyone's garden' but one truly never knew with books such as these. He placed them on his lap and pulled on his wheels, moving backwards and allowing space for Jasper to help him put the dropped books back where they belonged. "You're most kind, thank you."

He gestured at the books, making conversation helped him deal with the lingering embarrassment he felt about the situation he just made. "I'm hoping to find something in there that might prove useful during the full moon. Who knows, perhaps those folklorists may have been onto something and we were all much too quick to dismiss their writings as pure myth." Even myths held lessons to be learned, he just hoped they proved to be actionable lessons this time around. "Before I so rudely forget, my name is Florian, I don't believe we have had the pleasure of meeting yet." He stretched out his hand, an invitation to move from strangers to vague acquaintances attached to it.
Thomas
As Jasper took a moment to study the man before him, he braced as the world cracked before his eyes, the stupid little game his mind forced him to play any time a new face crossed his path. He was cursed to see his past in every face, to imagine how Jasper before and Jasper after, all those other Jaspers he wasn't anymore would regard the one before him. Someone to drink with? Someone to con. Someone he wouldn't deign worthy of words? Someone who he'd trust with secrets that never left his lips? A hundred different answers to a hundred different questions from a hundred different Jaspers.

It was a hair's breadth of a second before he collapsed the worlds and what if's back to one, drawn back souls to body by the creak of board beneath his feet. Grounded. He was in search of neither friend nor foe, nor toy or victim. He simply was here to be.

"And here I thought the only danger books offered was death by boredom. I never thought they hungered for blood." He reached up, plucking the requested title off the shelf and handing it to the other. "I hope it has the answers you're in search of. That would make at least one of us a competent researcher." He'd discarded his own books, all hopes lost of finding the answers he was looking for. "You hold more hope than I do. Most are just tales to scare the children. Truth is spoken, not written."

The smile that graced his lips was genuine for all the wrong reasons. _Kind_. A role well played, indeed. Jasper had never in his life been kind, not without the steel bones of calculation hidden beneath it, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Though, if he thought about it, being kind for the sake of being perceived as kind? No, Jasper quickly decided to be kind to himself and not attempt to find the answer to that dilemma. Certainly not sober. He instead accepted the handshake. "I do not think we've crossed paths yet. I'm Jasper."
Doris
"You must never have gotten a papercut, books crave blood." He laughed. "A pleasure to meet you Jasper" He placed the book the other man handed him on his lap, watching him put the fallen ones back on the shelf. "Oh? Your search hasn't gone well then? I do not consider myself an academic in any sense of the word, I am an artist, and not one of the writing variety, but an avid reader that I am. I might be able to help, if you want aid in your search?" He was mighty curious what Jasper had been reading about, especially after him all but stating that books were boring.

"You may be right there, but sometimes hope is one of the best and only approaches we've got. I used to believe that the stories I was told growin' up here were just to scare me." He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "But alas, we all know better now." Thinking back on it, he now felt bad about his younger self calling those stories a bunch of rubbish. Maybe if he'd paid closer attention he would be able to remember details now. But then again, in his mind word of mouth tended to muddle the truth. Maybe Jasper came from a city or town where people had better and more stable memories for storytelling than they did in Briar Ridge. At least Florian assumed he wasn't a Briar Ridge native, if he was, he'd hidden himself well. Descent or place of birth didn't matter to Florian, as small as the town was, something drew people to it, and those outsiders became insiders. All were welcome. Except for werewolves and whatever other unnatural creatures were out there of course, screw those bastards.

Tupper took my frog away have it here
Thomas
"They must have tried to stay on my good side. Or it may be I did not handle them often enough for them to have the opportunity." Jasper admitted. "Reading was more of a means than a pastime." 
A young Jasper, the bright eyed child had recoiled at the thought of spending his days bent over books when adventures waited outside the doors. As he'd grown older, he'd learned to grudgingly appreciate their use. However, an avid reader he was not.

The question made him pause a moment, fingers hovering over the leather of a ridged spine as his mind assessed the possibilities. The years had twisted the world in Jasper's eyes, not unlike a card game, each admission a card he had to decide when to play. "I was researching the native plants and their properties in the area. I'm curious to see if any have unusual properties."

He painted around the subject with the broadest of strokes, the careful balance between truth and lies, easily flipped to the side of most convenient. It was not atypical for a young man of his age to entertain himself after all? He was letting paranoia take hold of him. His eyes returned to Florian.

"Hope was never kind to me, at least not when I needed it most." Jasper shrugged. "But you are right, it is better than nothing. Is there anything worthwhile you came across?" He might not be one to believe, neither in blind hope nor fairy stories, but Florian was right. Answers, even false ones, were better than grasping at air.
Doris
"You and many others, as a child I used to dislike reading as well, it was only later that I started to really enjoy it." Only when the adventures he now read about became physical impossibilities did he turn to living them through paper. _Unusual_ properties. Florian supposed he was there for the same purpose. Or a similar one at the least. "Oh? Plants have many unusual properties, care to specify? I promise I cast no judgement." He spoke the truth, if the properties Jasper was after were of a more illicit nature that didn't matter to Florian. He didn't necessarily have much knowledge on that topic, but he was aware that some plants had the ability to alter one's state of mind. Hell, the town's view on the prohibition was an incredibly unwell kept secret, he saw those plants not much different from how he saw alcohol. He had just never had the urge to indulge in the plant's effects, alcohol did the job well enough for him.

"I may have." He held up the book he had found on plants of the region and their uses. "I remembered this plant called wolfsbane, it's got these pretty purple flowers. I am afraid that the name is just a name and that it won't be of much use though. But I thought, with a name like that, maybe, just maybe, there might be a way to use it to our benefit? From what I've gathered it is toxic to wolves, and people too, it doesn't seem to discriminate between the two. But I have no clue if werewolf bodies react anything like people _or_ wolves. They seem much stronger than either." Images of the beast treating bullet wounds like wasp stings flashed through his mind, he banished them. "I don't know if it is anything, nor do I know who could help me with seeing if the theory works in practice."
Thomas
"I may still be that child, but I can say I'm learning to grow." Jasper replied with a smile. An honest admission, maybe more so than he realized. 

He was learning after all, day by day and word by word, piecing together the tapestry of himself. He may as well find comfort in captivity. Jasper doubted Briar Ridge would ever ring true home, but it was as close to one as he'd had for longer that he could string memories together. 

For the first time in a while, Jasper had the opportunity to add to his deck of cards, but not to craft a winning hand of deceit. His time on the road had been spent learning skills by the day, each chane a new frame to support a new lie. But here? Maybe he had a chance to learn something for the sake of knowledge itself, not as another lockpick up his sleeve. So yes, maybe he was learning to grow? His disguise may as well be woven with threads of truth. 

But not too much truth. That's how you fuck up and get chased out of a window, and Jasper was not eager to repeart that particular experience again. "I have trouble with sleep these nights, though I probably am not the only one. It's hard to close your eyes when the nightmares walk the streets." Subtlety. Backtracking really, but close enough, right? "I'm looking for something that can help with sleep, or if not, at least dull the fear of it. I would rather search my own methods before burdening the doctor." And I would rather find a method that doesn't hunger for the last coins left rattling in my pocket; he added mentally.

"Wolfbane? Nothing if not a fitting name." Jasper bent forward to take a closer look at the page, a finger tracing the lettering as he attempted to pinpoint anything of use. "If it's toxic to us, no reason to think the beasts would be immune to it. Maybe someone in town could distill a poison of sort?" He pondered. "Though I do not know how one would get the creatures to drink it. Getting that close... You may as well take death's hand and ask for a waltz."
Doris
"I find that it helps to read something you genuinely want to be readin'. I used to try and force myself to get through books on topics I just did not care for 'cause I was told that that was just how studyin' and learnin' how to read was supposed to be done." He grinned. "I could give you some recommendations if you wanted?" Florian firmly believed that there was a book out there for everyone, you just had to find the right genre and style. Not everyone enjoyed dense academic writing, he certainly did not, he preferred stories of adventure, of places far away and landscapes he could only dream of seeing. He enjoyed mysteries, following clues and threads of the books, trying to figure out the culprits of the crimes as fast as possible. He enjoyed the plot-twists and being wrong. He liked books with happy endings, where the story was not focused on loss and negatives, there was enough of that in his life already, he did not need that in his books.

"I know exactly what you mean. They don't need to be outside your door to haunt you, the mind does a mighty fine job at completing that task for them." Florian was no stranger to nightmares, he suspected a large part of Briar Ridge was intimately familiar with them. As for plants that could aid with sleep, he knew of one; valerian, the same name his brother bore. But it didn't grow near Briar Ridge. Chamomile did though, his sister had made tea from it a few times, made him feel quite relaxed it had. Florian thought that the little white flowers with their yellow cores were cute, one of the simplest plants to draw as well, they were far from intricate. "Chamomile maybe? Helps you feel relaxed. Miss Creedie Clark may be able to help you if you're lookin' for some stronger stuff but don't want to ask the good doctor. I hear she sells potions. I reckon she uses plants for those."
_ _

He nodded, wolfsbane was a fitting name for the poisonous plant. "I thought so too." He could think of a man who would be foolish enough to do that waltz, Beaux, Florian wouldn't put it past him to try such a thing. "A poison, exactly! But the administration that's what I was gettin' stuck on as well. Maybe shoot it into them in some way? Like a dart? Or dip a bullet into the extract? I am not much of an inventor myself, nor am I keen on tryin' my hand at this particular experiment. I suppose we could ask the Coalition if they think it might be worth looking into?" Funny, they'd become a we in Florian's head, a newly formed team with shared task, should Jasper accept of course. Florian had had no dealings with the anti-werewolf coalition yet, he knew they existed, but to him they felt much too hands on. He wasn't in physical shape to do the work they were doing, and truth be told, he felt intimidated by them.
Thomas
"If I had a dime for every book I had to claw through just to say I did so I would be a rich man." Jasper laughed. "Or at least rich enough to have someone read those for me that would otherwise bore me to tears. There's only so much one can learn from a page when the reality is too far to grasp."

He pondered the offer a moment, before deciding to decline. "Another day perhaps. I worry too many books would keep me from being of use to the good folks of this town. And my own stubbornness still has a bone to pick with the herbs."

The wolves always seemed to lurk in the shadows of Briar Ridge, masquerading as the wind, catching at the hems of coats and dresses, howling into the night. They were in the creak of the old walls shifting, the crack of a branch. Jasper wondered if the residents never saw another beast, how long would they still grasp their weapons in hand every full moon. "Chamomile may just do the trick, though the taste is not one for me. But if getting a good night's rest finally takes downing a cup of _plant water_, then so be it. If not then I will continue the search for something more potent."

"I will cast my vote on anything that calls for a safe distance." Jasper agreed. "I am not a man who likes a gun in hand, I leave the shooting up to the folks who hit the target. But even so I would rather not have to ask the beast to sit with me for a drink and a chat. At least not under the moon." Had he shared a drink with one? An idle thought fli across his mind chased by a shudder. Not that there was a true tell, or the town would not be battling this nightmare in the first place. "It is at least something to think of. If I have any more workable ideas, I'll be sure to find you with them." 

For now though, he would rather not concern himself with the issue. The book, for all its worth, had given some leads to follow up on, and Jasper did have a free afternoon to pursue them. "Until then I will bid farewell."

~Fin~