Debaucherously Literate

Possibly one of the most peaceful places in the entire academy.  Shafts of sunlight rested on the barely worn floor and across the seldom interacted with couches of the library.  Suddenly, the door to the rest of the academy flew open- a rather short girl with tufts of bright pink hair opening the door mainly with her foot, disturbing whatever peace might have been pervading the room.  Whether the room was empty or not, she put her hands on hips and spun for a moment, admiring the pool of human knowledge around her with a low whistle.  For a moment, she seemed to rest her eyes upon one of the plentiful tomes, her lips curling into a small smile, offering only one word in her rather low and heavy Swedish accent:

"Bitchin'."

As she would walk toward the shelf of her choice, she slipped her hand into the upper pocket of her oversized military coat, quickly retrieving her bounty, a slightly bent cigarette. In a flash it ended up between her lips, hanging loosely as she realized her primary target was on a shelf just above where she could comfortably reach up and grab it. A bit of air escaped around the new obstruction between her lips, as she debated on whether to light it now or later...when her eyes locked onto the ladder on wheels. Just the thing. She giggled lightly with delight as she stomped over to the tool, placing her left boot on the second rung, she gripped the frame tightly and pushed off the ground with her right boot. A couple kicks later, and she was moving much faster than she expected straight toward a perpendicular bookshelf. She yelped for a second as she slammed her foot into the floor, braking the ladder but also losing her grip on the ladder and tumbling loudly to the floor. Undeterred, the girl got up, adjusted her hair out of her face and picked up her cigarette. After a curosry wipe, she placed the cancer stick back between her lips and moved toward the ladder, which was miraculously where she had wanted it. She quickly scrambled up the ladder and ran her finger over the particular spine of the sought after book before taking it from it's home and down with her. She turned toward the room, navy blue cover tucked in a slightly frayed jacket arm, cigarette hanging lazily from the corner of her mouth. She stood almost brightly, the smile never having left her face.

Now she needed a place to sit.

How odd that he would find himself reading books about human biology when all he needed to do in order to save someone was to tap them. Despite this, the dark-haired student continued to flip through the textbook, setting his middle finger under the right page in preparation to turn. His concentration broke at the sound of a fall. Felix flinched to himself, expecting an explosion of some sort, a blast of energy, or an out of control student to lunge at him.

But nothing came. Relaxing slightly, the nurse watched the shape move between the bottom of a shelf and the books. Whoever fell seemed alright...his gaze returned to the text-heavy book. Yet, a form appeared from the aisle. With his caffeine-fueled strength, Felix looked over the individual for any sign of injury. She strolled along just fine...is that a...Felix narrowed his eyes to confirm. Yes. A cig.

The student couldn't keep himself from rolling his eyes. Imagine smoking in the year 2020. "Please tell me you have a willing lung donor available." His off-handed comment rose in the air as she passed.

Hanna had finally decided on a spot- a couch with a small coffee table covered with various magazines and a dictionary.  Strolling past the other student in the room, a voice danced in her ears.  Richly sarcastic. She tapped the edges of her book, particularly the 'Y' in the author's name, as she made it to her spot at the couch, flopping lazily into it and kicking her feet up onto the table.  In her comfort ritual, one of the magazines fluttered to the floor, the rest losing their deliberate positioning on the table.  Hanna dropped the book by her side and began digging in her pocket as she spoke up toward the other student in the room, a note of mischief in her voice, the cigarette between her lips bouncing with every word "Where's the fun in having a willing donor? "

After another second ticked by and several pockets dug in later, her prize was acquired.  A small and cheap Bic lighter, a bright blue contrast to the drabness of the couch she sat on.  She clicked it a couple times, examining the flame with a degree of reverence- before bringing it up to the edge of her cancer stick, inhaling for a moment, and slowly releasing a thin wisp of gray smoke from her lips, watching it curl around the room in the sunlight.  

"Plus, from what I've seen around here, some tar in my lungs may keep the beastie claws out."

Felix raised a brow, yet managing a laugh in response. "Can't say you are wrong. But...I can say that it will be my ass having to heal you daily." He placed a bookmark where he had been reading prior, and turned his gaze to the coffee in front of him, cradling it for warmth before sipping casually. "Better be careful, or you might have to see more of my ugly mug. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." He tilted his head down and looked up at her, a glare as the cig continued to burn inside the building.