Silence of the Library

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

Month 6, Week 2, Day 3; a small public library in Detroit; Semi-Private

Xavier Goodkind is having a terrible week so far, and it's only Tuesday. It's not every day that you wake up with the unshakable feeling that something isn't quite right with the world, get up and go about your day as usual, get ready for work, go out to the truck you've been driving for years, sit down and then... not remember how to drive it.

He remembers getting driver's ed. He remembers getting his license. But every bit of knowledge about how to actual drive was just... gone. And it didn't end there! After giving up on remembering how to drive he'd taken the bus to the restaurant, greeted his coworkers cheerfully as usual - oh how he longs to murder every single one of them and serve them up to their customers - then promptly realized that he has no idea how to cook.

Several thousand dollars spent on a degree at a culinary school. Over a week spent working at this restaurant as a commis chef. And suddenly he doesn't know how to cook. Infuriating! He'd tried his best to fake it, he really had, but he'd been called on not being up-to-snuff and he'd been shipped home after complaining of a migraine to cover for his sudden and inexplicable incompetence.

He'd gone home, hoping that a night's rest would clear things up, but to no avail. Not that his night's rest was particularly good, what with the unsettling dreams of sensory deprivation and deep solitude, but that's a different problem. And so, as a chef with nothing but a most basic knowledge of cooking and a driver with no knowledge of driving, Xavier called in sick to work and decided to do his best to recover his lost knowledge.

Which is why he finds himself at the nearest public library, searching for books on cooking, a driver's handbook, and maybe some information on dementia, because suddenly forgetting important skills is most definitely not normal.

Spotting a nearby librarian, Xavier approaches with a smile, dimples pitting his cheeks. "Excuse me-"

[Phobia/Pierce Fobster]

The moment where things had changed was difficult to pinpoint. His last clear memory as Phobia had been him driving through a human city, the overcast skies darkening with the onset of night, the air permeated with the scent of the coming rain. His first clear memory as a human had been waking up in a neat little apartment to the faint smell of freshly washed blankets. There was only foggy grayness in between; it was as if a century had passed without his knowing it.

Here and there were scattered bits of his memory- no, his life as a human. Pierce Fobbes, forty nine years old, librarian for half of that. He always woke up at exactly six o’clock and took exactly three minutes to make his bed, spent exactly fifteen in the bathroom and another two draping himself in clean but over-sized clothes before heading out. He seemed to sustain himself on a diet of Snickers Bars and the occasional take out. The routines of a life so alien and yet, it was as if he’d actually lived through it for forty nine years.

Still, the human family unit was nonexistent outside of paperwork. Memories of being a juvenile of the race were also notably absent. Even the recent memories were mostly ingrained routines, almost mechanical. He knew when to greet and what to say to certain people, but he didn’t have any memory of meeting them or even talking to them ever before. His memories as a cybertronian however were as vivid and crisp as ever, the whole awful few million years of it, but they were lacking one very important piece; WHY was he here?

As it was an answer he knew he had little to no chances of discovering in the past few confused and mildly panicky evenings, Phobia did what he could: lie low, assimilate and accumulate resources that could get the answers for him. It was disconcertingly easy to fall into the routine at least. Pierce Fobster’s life was a simple creature and appeared to primarily consist of reading and organizing- neither of which are things Phobia particularly dislikes.

There was however, one minor niggling bit of uneasiness in the... surprisingly appealing life: a librarian still had to deal with people.

Occupied in the middle of shelving books, Pierce mumbles a curt ‘one second please’ before finally turning around to face the most recent interruption of his thoughts.

The startlingly familiar green eyes that greet him freeze him on the spot.

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

Xavier stops short as the librarian turns to face him, looking first surprised, then confused, before finally schooling his features into an inquisitive grin with only a slight edge of bewilderment.

"I'm sorry," he asks, giving the pale, thin man a look up and down. "Have we met...?"

Familiar. This man feels so strangely, impossibly familiar, and yet Xavier is certain that he's never seen these particular features in his life - and the librarian isn't exactly an unnotable - and he knows that he's never set foot in this library. Or does he know that? After all, the only reason he's here at all is because of inexplicable memory loss.

His smile almost falters for a moment, but he forces it back into place. He's not - literally - losing his mind. He's not.

[Phobia/Pierce Fobster]

Phobia has had at least a million years of intel experience. It’s ingrained reflex alone that keeps his face from mirroring Xavier’s in that single vulnerable moment. He does pause for a moment though, eying the shorter man with a slight scowl. The man’s expressions were as easy to read as the books in the children’s section, but it wasn’t enough evidence to support Pierce’s suspicions.

“I do not believe we have,” he says carefully, arching a fine brow as he straightens up and slips easily into the role of a rather aloof librarian. “But where sight is unreliable, perhaps names would be more helpful. Pierce Fobster is mine.” The look he gives the red haired man was critical and if he had glasses, he would have shifted them down a rather disapproving manner. “May I help you with something?”

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

Relief! At least it seems his memory hasn't dumped another cache of time. But then what is this strange feeling of familiarity. It itches at the back of his mind, like there's something terribly important he's forgotten...

"Xavier," he says. "Xavier Goodkind. It's a... pleasure to meet you, Pierce." There's a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and he raises one of his own bushy red brows at the librarian's standoffish attitude. Something dark and slithery in his mind hisses, don't you look down on me, you're not better than me, let's see you look down on me when I pluck those pretty blue marbles from your skull, but he brushes it aside like so many other murderous thoughts he has throughout the day but can't act upon.

Keeping his blandly friendly smile in place, he asks, "Do you have a cooking section? This is my first time visiting this branch." He blinks, then scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Or any library in Detroit, I guess. I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I guess I'll need a new library card, huh?"

[Phobia/Pierce Fobster]

“Yes, we shall have to make you a card,” Pierce murmurs sounding entirely put off by the idea. Regardless, he turns and gestures for Xavier to follow before striding towards the Instructionals section. “But, first, I think prudent that you find your books. Any particular authors or titles in mind?”

“We also have a digital library for both reading and audio formats which you may obtain access to with the password that you will get with the card,” Pierce continues. “Assuming you have internet and some manner accessing, of course.” Considering it was The Future, not having either was probably a bit on the rare side.

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

"Mm, nothing in particular," Xavier says, following after the librarian. "Just cooking basics, cooking theory, that sort of thing."

He blinks slightly as Pierce mentions internet access. "I... have a smart-phone." He finds himself wondering why he never got around to buying a proper computer. Not enough money? He's not actually sure. Well, a smart-phone is good enough for most of his internet needs anyway.

He shoots a sidelong glance at Pierce, then adds, "Are you sure we've never met?"

[Phobia/Pierce Fobster]

“Even if we have met previously, neither of our memories are supplying any such event. Quite frankly, I think that renders any previous meetings moot,” the pale man sighs as they reach the section.

Why was Pierce getting the horrible feeling that his initial suspicions might just be right? He glances furtively at Xavier; there was only one way to find out definitively, damn his now limited powers. But if the man was who he thought he was, how dangerous would it be? Pierce vividly recalls their little mind blending in the broom closet and frankly, he has no desire for a repeat event. Was certainty worth that risk?

He inwardly scowls inwardly at the thought, fingering the spines of a few books. At least he hardly needs to search; Pierce the human has worked in this very library for so long that the location of certain books might as well be muscle memory. “Here we go. We also have books focusing on cuisine from specific countries as well?” he says as he delicately slides out a hefty hardcover book titled ‘Culinary Arts: The Basics of International Cuisine’ and hands it to Xavier.

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

"Hmm, maybe you just remind me of someone I know..." Though he has no idea who that could be. Certainly not any of his coworkers, and definitely not his landlady, and nobody else from his past really sticks out. Xavier isn't exactly a people person. He doesn't do friends, though occasionally he might pretend.

Taking the offered book, he quickly pages through it. "No, I think this will be fine. Though do you have anything more advanced as well?" He needs to try and relearn enough cooking skills to fake his entire degree - learn how to fake a degree he actually earned! The absurdity! - in mere days. He's exceptionally bright, he can manage it. Or perhaps he's just being egotistical. Time will tell.

[Phobia/Pierce Fobster]

“I think you’re over-thinking it now,” Pierce mutters in reply as he turns back to the book shelf and scans the titles. Even if Xavier wasn’t Rampage, Pierce doesn’t particularly want to know the other man.

“In regards to the second question, we aren’t exactly the biggest branch of the library here, but I think we have something that might suffice.” Picking out another even heftier hardcover titled ‘The Fine Art of Cooking’, Pierce holds it up for Xavier. He may or may not be intentionally picking out the heaviest books. “In case it does not, I will give you the address of the biggest library in the city and you can go and look things up there.” And leave Pierce alone forever. “Our library card can, of course, be used in that library as well.”

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

Such a bristly scarecrow, Xavier thinks. But if the librarian felt what he felt, he wouldn't be so quick to brush him off. A one-sided sense of familiarity then. How bizarre.

Little does he know...

"I'm sure these will be fine," he says, amused, looking down at the large books in his hands. Though the length of them may be intimidating, he takes the weight of them with ease. Unlike Pierce, Xavier has more than enough muscle to spare. "No interlibrary loan, though?"

Because this branch really is more convenient for him. Sorry, Pierce, he won't be that easy to get rid of.

[Phobia/Pierce Fobster]

“That particular issue can, again, be addressed with our online facilities,” meaning, again, that Xavier leave Pierce alone forever, dammit. “There is about a day or so of waiting in between transferring books or scanning, of course.” They don’t really photocopy much these days.

With that Pierce gestures to the check-out, saying, “Now, if we are quite done?” He starts walking towards the desk without waiting for a response. “If you’d be so kind as to hand me some manner of photo ID, I may proceed with making your card for you.”

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

Very, very bristly. Is the librarian always this friendly?

Xavier doesn't have many options other than to trail after Pierce, books in hand. When prompted he hands over his driver's license - not that he can use it for what it's actually made for now - and leans an arm on the counter.

"You have such a way with customers," he says, a slight smirk curling one of the corners of his mouth.

[Phobia/Pierce Fobster]

“Oh, I do. Normally Miranda and Niels deal with you lot, but one is sick and the other supervising a presentation with small noisy children. Thus, I am here. Please place the books on the counter,” Pierce says as he settles in his seat and logs into the computer. “The library hasn’t been as quiet for the past month as it has been today, remarkably enough.” He types in Xavier’s social security number, name and address into the database.

After that, Pierce takes a blue and green card with the library’s logo out of the drawer and scans the barcode on the back. If Xavier has already placed the books on the counter, he’ll start to scan them as well. “Would you like some activity brochures and leaflets too?” the pale man asks distractedly.

[Rampage/Xavier Goodkind]

"'You lot'?" Xavier says, quirking a brow as he sets the books down. He usually feels impatient when he has to wait on other people to get something, but at the moment he's content to just listen to Pierce and watch him work.

Content enough that he apparently zoned out a little, because it takes a moment for him to react to the question. Blinking and straightening slightly he says, "Hm? Oh, uh, sure."

Brochures, why not?