<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Wyatt's Post</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=246501.msg12287577#msg12287577">Quote from: Peripherie on 02-05-2016, 04:12:10</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><hr/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Addicted to that old Book Smell</strong></span></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcLnexj.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Wyatt Gallo<br/><strong>Sortment:</strong> Postgrad<br/><strong>Date and Time:</strong> October 4, 10:00 p.m.<br/><strong>Location: </strong> 2nd floor stacks<br/><strong>Mood:</strong> Getting over recent social ineptness by doing what he does best, research<br/><strong>Tag:</strong> Wil Holmes<em><strong> [closed]</strong></em><hr/><br/>Wyatt had been walking his long thin fingers down each spine of the books that occupied the third shelf down, taking his time to scan the call numbers and titles to find the journal and the specific volume he needed. This was not a hurried and frustrating effort as it was for so many others. No, each binding held a world inside of it. There was the life of the writer's, their years of study on a beloved topic, the toiled hours of the printers and editors, and not in the least the journey of each material and component of the actual book itself to have finally come to rest in this place. Paper, glue, binding, cover, gloss, ink. Even in the modern age of mass media printing each copy was a glory to behold. Not that there wasn't surely a deeper reverence for the older collections, those that took decades not months to put together. <br/><br/>Even as his finger's found the EJELLS and were quickly honing on the exact journal issue he needed, Wyatt was pondering where JCPU kept it's more treasured collections and which media specialist or department chair he would need to speak with to gain access. There were hidden things in this library, beyond the coffee house and the sleep deprived co-eds, even if only a few select people had the knowledge and sense to appreciate them. <br/><br/>It wasn't until the squeak that he even noticed the hooded blond standing at the end of the aisle. "How else can you fall asleep with the book over your face and read it through the process of drool activated osmosis?" That was his chosen method anyway. He has spent many nights in his computer chair, feet propped up with a book, only to wake from the sound of a book hitting the floor and an equally loud crack of the kink in his neck. <br/><br/>He stood back and did a wide sweep of his arm to let her pass, not quite sure which tome she was searching for. He didn't head back to the desk where he satchel lay, just yet. No, he remained in the aisle, cracking open the journal and (again referencing the crumpled sticky note) finding the exact article that had earlier piqued his interest. <br/><br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div></div></div><br/><br/><hr/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Addicted to that old Book Smell</strong></span></div><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://img1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20131031203615/challens-original-character/images/f/f9/Emily_bett_rickards.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Wilhelmina "Wil" Holms<br/><strong>Sortment:</strong>Graduate Student<br/><strong>Mood:</strong>Calm, quiet, centered<br/><strong>Clothes:</strong>black tee, jeans, sneakers and a hoodie.<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Wyatt Callo<strong><em>[Closed]</em></strong><br/><strong>Location; Date and time:</strong>Second floor stacks, library  October 4, 10:00 PM<br/><hr/><br/>When he looked up she grinned a little.  He was kind of a handsome guy, in that geeky sort of way she found relatable and not intimidating.  Of course she had trouble talking to anyone new.  She was just a socially awkward panda and had accepted that ages ago.  All the study of human behavior in the world wasn't going to help her!  "Well hopefully you're not drooling on the library journals." She wrinkled her nose.  Now she kind of never wanted to touch another library volume in her life.  It wasn't like she could just head down to the local book store and pick up a single copy of the journal she needed though.  Such a dilemma.<br/><br/>She slender grad student slipped past him, only to turn not far from him and look at the EJELLS volumes.  As her eyes scanned them she frowned.  "Great.  The one I need isn't here."  Which meant someone else probably had it and didn't bother to put it back in the right place.  And it could be anywhere.  Inconsiderate jerk.  She sighed.  Her eyes swept back to her fellow student and caught just enough of the spine of his journal to see it was also one of the EJELLS volumes.  No.  Couldn't be.  Could it?  The odds someone else needed the exact journal she did and stood right in front of her holding it were...astronomical.  "You're not holding volume three issue six by any chance, are you?" Her head cocked to the side in a quizzical expression.<br/><br/>As soon as she asked the question a plan formed in her mind for how to solve the next dilemma.  If they both needed the same issue she could just make a photocopy of her article.  She'd planned to do that anyway after she read through it once so she could highlight important passages and makes notes.  Not to mention she'd need to cross reference it with other sources including the ones cited in the article itself.