Interesting Librarians (Open)

[attr="class","Agarrar"]Svenja was not one for literature, though they harbored a secret fondness for those old detective novels. And even then, those were more flight of fancy than a true reflection of detective work. Like those law and forensic dramas the ill-informed masses loved to indulge in. There was so much left on the cutting room floor to suit the hour time slot! But that's entertainment for you. Mystery novels tended to be better about it...

Cane firmly clutched at her side, Svenja made her way through the first floor of the expansive library, past the mundane fiction, the droll and fantastical tales of horror and fantasy. When you spent your days tracking down and studying actual monsters, it was hard to feel the thrill others loved so much. Biographies, accounts of true crime, and the remaining bulk of non-fiction were usually what Svenja sought. Today was no different, but what she was looking for would be on higher floors. Like floor two and the restricted section.

Werewolves were the flavor of the month (or year, really, judging by the lack of success so far), being as her current goal was to set the Werewolf Registry straight. Svenja was not new to hunting the creatures, but good ole detective tactics could only take one so far. If she wanted to catch the slyer wolves, she needed to be one. Think like one. Do more than roll around in their scent markers and follow her nose, in other words. Not just follow the obvious path of destruction left in their wake, or so-called werewolf sightings.

Where did the smart ones fuck off to? How did they disguise themselves to blend within muggle and wizarding worlds alike? She knew some hid in plain sight, like the Werewolf of Bedburg. Many accounts of werewolves in Germany involved farmers and the like...but why did so many of them need a strap to help hurry on the transformation? Largely muggle accounts, but still... Her mind was wandering towards the possibility of muggles of yore being duped by witches and wizards with enchanted objects to cause a bit of mischief.

It was the smell of smoke, a lovely fragrance of cherry and vanilla, that roused Svenja from her rumination. Sniffing, almost like the canine she could shift into at will, Svenja opted to follow the source. As a long time smoker herself (apple cigarettes were her preferred flavor), she knew the scent of a cigar well enough. Her father and some of the boys at the ministry loved to smoke the dreadful things, which were a little too strong for her tastes. But, because of her father, she found the smell of them very reassuring and felt at home among the smoke.

She found the source almost immediately; damn near ran into them, as a matter of fact. Svenja paused, nose hovering above the red headed woman's bare shoulder. That wasn't what gave her cause for concern, however.

Her eyes traveled down the flimsy tank top, down to the red pajama bottoms and wool socks, and back up to the cigar casually dangling from the slovenly dressed woman's lips. Svenja, dressed in a cream-colored suit with a red tie, and a black jacket dangling open and freely from her shoulders, stood in stark contrast. She tapped one booted foot, eyes attempting to make something out of this...patron?

She was a pretty little number, that was for sure, and would likely be prettier still if properly dressed for the occasion. And yet, Svenja felt almost compelled to stomp her foot and let out a series of barks and howls in desire. This was like...the Mona Lisa of sloppily dressed women. Brush her hair back, do her brows, fit her in a short skirt and a looooooooong jacket --

"Oh. Oh. Scheisse..." Svenja sluggishly shook her head, trying and failing to extinguish the haze fogging up her mind. This wasn't normal. This was either magic or -- "You shouldn't be out in public like that," she heard herself say from somewhere far away. "It's...improper. And disresptful to the...to the librarian...Oone of those Muslims, you know?" Svenja had yet to see the woman without her traditional head covering. Mostly just the eyes...Much like those same eyes she was trying so hard to not get lost in, like the maze-like duck vagina that awaited the males. Stupid sexy Veela...


✏: Short Skirt Long Jacket
@: Gabriele Jaeger

[attr="class","Agarrar"]Even as the strange woman spoke, Svenja's muddied mind aimed to twist and distort those words, which she actively fought against. That damned Veela charm was trying to confuse her...make her look deeper into the abyss and forget her proper self for the lust in her heart. Dragons were so much easier than these bird-like succubi.

"Wait, did you just say this was your home?" Forgetting the danger of the Veela charm for but a moment, Svenja hastily met the woman's eyes and froze. Those eyes. They were the same; red like a vampire's and equally stern. And almost hypnotic, more so without the protection of her usual heavy garb. Svenja's brow knitted together in disbelief. "...I suppose I owe you an apology, Miss Blanchet." The corners of her mouth were straining to smile. Svenja chuffed and dropped her eyes back to the librarian's slim shoulder.

She tried to imagine less pleasant things, like catching the Minister for Magic in a dirty diaper and being shamed by his secretary. "Ach..." Dead babies...headless puppies, a...seductive redhead stepping out of the bath -- no, she was old and covered in sores. 100% undesirable. It was working.

Until she noticed the strap carelessly sliding down Evelyne's arm. Svenja's eyes followed. If it went any further ('She's not wearing a bra. Dear lord, she is not--', Svenja could very well see more than she'd expected today.

Wordlessly, she stepped forward, one hand reaching out to seize the strap and snugly pull it back onto the woman's shoulder, the other coming around to hold her by the waist. "You may want to find a better shirt," she whispered into Evelyne's ear. "Else you'll put on quite the show." Her blonde hair mixed with Evelyne's as she buried her face into the woman's neck, lightly kissing the soft skin there. "Not that I'd have any complaints."

"Did you need help finding something?"

The voice was like a slap to the face, alarmingly loud. Svenja stood there, cane firmly gripped in both hands, the knuckles beneath her black gloves gone white. Evelyne seemed undisturbed. The strap of her flimsy tank top remained loose on her arm.

"I..." Svenja felt something trickle onto her upper lip and did not need to look at her hand when she wiped it away. It had been a while since her nose bled like this. "I'm researching...werewolves...and famous hunters. Ministry work, you see." She exhaled slowly. If anyone were to take a look at her face, they'd assumed she'd just seen a ghost, so white she was. "More advanced stuff, you see. For those who aren't careless, but stick to the shadows and evade capture."

It seemed easier to speak, now that the initial shock was gone and her head was (hopefully) clearer. 'I hate Veela. So fucking much.' It was distressing to know how easily it was for them to seduce even the best witches. Some eagerly became thralls to the bird women, and sincerely believed the attraction was legit. Svenja supposed she was lucky this wasn't a full-blooded Veela, otherwise she'd either be having the time of her life right now, or sent sprawling for daring to touch that which should only be seen.


✏: Careless Whisper Saxophone Loop
@: Gabriele Jaeger

[attr="class","Agarrar"]"Yeah. I'm Svenja." Her name was Svenja Fuchs, and she has captured several werewolves, in and out of the full moon, handled dragons, fought black wizards, and so on and so forth. She was not going to be fooled by a silly Veela charm, damn it. "And sometimes dragons," she added. Though probably not as much as the other two; a lot of her research on dragons was drawn more from being out on the field or conversing with more established dragonologists.

Svenja's eyes briefly followed the descent of the cigar smoke. If she tried to think of her father, that might help lessen the Veela's effect. "...Pardon?" Eve was asking if she were ill, which made Svenja worry how she must look at this moment. Pale as a ghost and bleeding from the nose... "Whiskey would be amazing right now, but I'm fine. Something about the weather; it's an old issue I've had since childhood." Oh yes, the weather...It was a bit dry, and the cigar smoke was not helping.

She pinched her nose to help staunch the blood flow, careful to keep her eyes focused on a book behind Eve. It helped, but did not last long as the other woman wafted towards the steps to the third floor. Svenja's eyes shamelessly slid down the woman's back, towards the curve of her hips... And got quite the view for her troubles. The scar on her lower back only enhanced her natural beauty. Svenja sighed and followed after her. She'd stared death in the face once before. She could handle a little seductive charm. 'Her personal floor...'

"I don't mind smoke," Svenja said, looking away from Eve's inviting rear. "I smoke. Cigarettes, not cigars," she quickly added. "And thank you." She'd wondered how safe it was to smoke around the books, but if the cigars were enchanted, that seemed perfectly fine. "How'd you get that scar, if you don't mind me asking?" Most librarians did not have the time to get caught up in that kind of mischief.


✏: Careless Whisper Saxophone Loop
@: Gabriele Jaeger

[attr="class","Agarrar"]Svenja blinked and forced herself to glance away from the scar; an instance that occured every ten seconds, it seemed like. It was just...such a conveniently placed mark. She kind of wanted to reach out and touch it. Take off a glove, of course, and then run her bare hand along that smooth, enticing flesh. 'What's wrong with me? My resolve is stronger than this.' It was true that she had been working a lot over the past year. There was little time left to pursue pleasures of the flesh.

"...A trap? How queer..." But it seemed fair enough, she supposed. Svenja was accustomed to chasing and confronting beasts, not checking rooms and objects for traps. That kind of task usually fell to curse breakers and the like. "It's unfortunate, however--"

She lost her train of thought as Evelyne...owner of this very library...began exposing parts of her body to Svenja. And not just a little leg, either. The bits that were best left for the bedroom, with someone you could trust to behave themselves.

Svenja's tongue trailed a slow path across her lower lip, towards the top, and stopped between her pursed lips. She barely noticed the scars, only seeing flesh she wanted to explore and taste with her hands and mouth, to gentle nuzzle and nip, to suck... She was starting to feel very warm right now, and would gladly appreciate a glass of whiskey.

Or a cigarette.

"Not plain," she said, almost indignantly. "Apple...not enchanted, but I don't smoke around the books." Imagine having to pay a king's ransom for a mere book! "I'd say you should worry more about yourself than the book right now..." She was standing within mere inches of Evelyne, sorely tempted to reach out to the other woman and take her in her arms. But that would be impolite, right?

Her eyes readily met Evelyne's, an invisible tail twitching restlessly behind her. "I want to come, alright. I recall you offering me a drink, and I'd like to take it now, if possible." Svenja did not know what she was going to do once it was just the two of them, but the wolf inside was itching to get out.


✏: Sex (I'm A)
@: Gabriele Jaeger

[attr="class","Agarrar"]Svenja could appreciate the librarian's drive to pursue rare and tantalizing texts. It was very different from her own work, as her targets focus of interest were all living, breathing creatures. Beasts, in other words. Many of them, werewolves excluded, had left marks on her person as well. These scars were on her hands, legs, back, torso, and even a small one on her shoulder, but a few wounds ran far too deep to be seen.

"We'll see," was all Svenja had to say about Eve's priority of the books over her own well-being. And then arched an eyebrow at the messy state of the woman's apartment. There were books scattered all over the place, but that did not surprise or really bother Svenja. It was everything else that drew her ire. ...Actually, it would not hurt to at least neatly arrange the books so that one did not run the risk of stepping or slipping on one.

Svenja watched Eve clean her glass, but still inspected it for signs of dirt before deeming it acceptable. "Danke, I will." She took a moment to tidy up one of the tables, neatly placing the books in the middle, but did not move to sit down. The reason was simple: her eyes were following Eve's movements, the way her shirt rode up as she rummaged through the pile of books, the smoke from the abandoned cigar...

"This is good whiskey," Svenja said, after taking a few sips and setting it and her cane on the table. Her feet were leading her towards the woman, but stopped long enough to retrieve the cigar. As she held it in her hand, Svenja recalled the first time she'd tried smoking one. She could not have been no older than thirteen when she got into her father's stash, and the man had damn near laughed himself to death when he caught her curled up next to a puddle of her own vomit.

But Svenja's tolerance was greater than it was back then, so when she brought the cigar to her lips and puffed, she did not vomit or so much as cough. It was strong, however. She took a slow drag off the warm cigar, savoring the taste of it and what she imagined to be Evelyne, before exhaling. "This cigar isn't so bad, either..." She placed it back in the ashtray and positioned herself behind Eve, leaning down so that her blonde locks tickled the other woman's shoulders. "You're just as lovely, my dear." Her hand hovered close to Evelyne's side, eager to slide along her exposed flesh and under the shirt...and up.

'The bed is right there,' she told herself. 'It's improper. It's a trick. You know you can't trust a Veela,' her mind argued back. But she was positive she had not imagined that incident on the staircase. Evelyne was trying to seduce her. 'And you're falling for it, like an idiot.' Maybe she was, but the pros were looking a lot better than the cons right now.

Almost in defiance, Svenja, reached out and lightly trailed her gloved fingers along Evelyn's skin, before sliding her palm along the woman's side. She managed to stop herself from going too high, at least.


✏: Sex (I'm A)
@: Gabriele Jaeger

[attr="class","Agarrar"]Evelyn crawled onto the bed, and Svenja, taking that as a sign of compliance, followed. She was feeling very warm now, very right. This turn of events was so unexpected that it was still very hard to believe. She'd come here for work purposes, looking for research on how to suss out those clever weres who could blend almost seemingly with the muggle population. And instead she had found much more: both the book and a lady of the evening.

"...What?" A book was shoved into her face when Evelyn turned around. Something about micro-expressions. So the key here was to rely on body language? A sense of doubt crept through the fog of lust. Svenja relied on that whenever when possible, especially when gaining information or straight out interrogating someone. It called for pulling people in one by one, a tireless task for even small towns. "I'm not sure if it will," she said. but if the man had a high success rate, there had to be something Svenja could learn and put to use.

Svenja smiled, a bit sheepish. There was nothing she wanted more right now than to pin the other woman against the bed and (sink her fangs into her neck) kiss her hard. She wasn't sure where the urge to frolic around on all fours had come from, but definitely was not going to shift here. Though, the wolf in her would love to curl up in the middle of the bed for a nap...

"Thank you again for the book." With her free hand, she reached out and laid a hand on Evelyn's shoulder, stopping her from getting out of bed. "I'm starting to feel more like myself, but ah..." Part of her was reluctant to let the librarian leave. "Do you mind staying with me for a bit longer?" She lightly sniffed at Eve's messy red hair. "It's been so long since I've truly rested." The pressure she applied to Evelyn's shoulder increased bit by bit, as she moved more onto the bed. "Ich will mit dir schlafen...Will you sleep with me? Just for a little while..."


✏: Caught In A Wave (Jas Shaw 15 Volts Mix 1)
@: Gabriele Jaeger

[attr="class","Agarrar"]The moment Evelyne gave in, Svenja would make herself at home. She kicked off her boots, because keeping them on in someone's bed was horribly rude, and draped her coat at the foot of the bed. All that was left (stripping down further was a bit much), was to wrap herself up in a blanket and snuggle up beside Eve. Anyone who's shared a bed with Svenja knows she's big on cuddling. It was the best way to sleep, after all. And when she couldn't find a warm body, a pillow worked just as well.

"Are you going to read me a bedtime story?" Her chin was rested on Evelyne's shoulder, despite her claims of exhaustion. Something about this reminded her of her childhood, when her mother would read to Svenja and her siblings. But instead of the typical German fairy tales that still sent shivers down her spine today, Eve's book was littered with a series of...squiggles. No, not squiggles...

Svenja recognized the script from something she'd learned in her youth and occasionally used today. The Elder Futhark runes were her favorite language for writing notes and secret messages. Sometimes she mixed those in with her notes, drawing from the Younger Futhark as well. Not many witches and wizards memorized the script, at least, though she was careful to word particularly sensitive things to remain elusive.

"Alfheim, eh?" A quick skim of the text told her this was something a bit...different. Like debunking muggle ignorance with what she and other witches would call "facts". Muggles in the past did their best to understand the world and unknown with the creation of their gods and goddesses. "This would be fine if it were just the myths themselves, but it's too dry for a bedtime story. Got anything saucier?"


✏: Caught In A Wave (Jas Shaw 15 Volts Mix 1)
@: Gabriele Jaeger