one day this'll make you proud /robin/

[Kinkade Cymir Malixi]

REVIEW
_{some day, you'll
sing it out loud-
one day this'll
make you proud.}

{This takes place in a library <33}
There were certain anxieties that came with being in a class you weren't familiar with. A high school kid thrown into a new country, expected to know every detail of what he considered a boring country's history, was where he was at. He didn't even sound American, so why did he care if Columbus didn't sail the ocean blue in fourteen-ninety-two? And how was he supposed to remember when Shiloh kept doubting all those cute songs that would have helped the youth memorize key details? He wanted to pass!... sort of. This was so dull.

Kinkade's careful writing all about the colonists and things they did slowly turned into drawings of pilgrim hats, feathers, indian looking cartoon things picking up feathers, and feathery birds (there was a rooster and a turkey; the turkey looked startled, the rooster looked indignant). Another indian girl was hiding behind a tree, facing the birds. It was beginning to look like an elaborate scene with previously written words floating above their heads. However, it occurred to him that this was his notebook, so no one would ever see it. To rectify this, he flipped the textbook's pages to the back cover so he could resume his drawing on the glued in paper on the hardback cover. Soon the book had a small child-looking cartoon indian kid lunging at a rooster. The rooster was frantically hopping to get away, it's wings extended.

... Kinkade had too much time on his hands. How long had he been here? He glanced up at the clock on the wall, realizing he'd wasted hours reading and drawing in this silent library. He'd missed dinner by about an hour, so there seemed no point in leaving now. Kinkade yawned before going back to his drawing. Now it was the pilgrim's turn to be drawn. The pilgrim got a cartoon world globe which he poked at. Nearby, indians huffily watched the arrogant pilgrim as he prodded the globe. To onlookers, he probably looked pretty into the text book he was leaning over. What more could they expect from the son of Shiloh? ... Just about anything else. On the bright side, he had a few cans of sprite and cookies Shiloh made him for his lunch in his backpack, if his energy supply ran low.

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“And we should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh.”

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This is one big library, Robin thought as she walked through yet another long line of bookshelves. Not that I'm complaining.

It was very true, after all. This library was one of the biggest Robin had ever stepped into-- except the one in Washington D.C. that she had spent an entire day in, a long time ago. But you can't really beat the nations Capitol. They had everything there, from what the girl remembered. There was this cool spy-museum, that you could crawl through the museum vents-- and this treasure museum with all sort of documented treasures and adventures-- okay, focus.

So, Robin was on a mission. Find a book for her English project, which normally wouldn't be hard. In fact, all up to last semester's assignment-- Robin usually ran up to a random book on a shelf and picked it-- and up until last semester, that had worked great. Long story short-- that book was not meant for a sophomore. It was meant for adult geniuses. The girl had to literally sit by the computer and look up every other word, and Robin did not want to have to go through the process again. So after dinner, she had wandered down here and searched for a good book.

And searched.

And searched.

And searched.

And--you get the point. The point was, Robin had high standards. She liked to read, it was a hobby, not a thing that came forced with life, and to read a book-- the book had to look interesting. And for a book to look interesting, you had to NOT enter the library with the thought that you'd read every good book out there--Whoa-- hey. James Patterson. Robin glared up at the top of the bookshelf, a few feet above her head. James Patterson was an excellent writer, no joke-- and anything written by him was bound to be good. Only problem was-- book was on the top shelf.

Scowling, Robin glanced around for one of those wheely things that you stood on, saw none-- and instantly assessed the structure of the bookcase. Could she climb it? Yes, but she would most definitely get in trouble. Scowl deepening, Robin stood up on the tips of her toes and reached-- hand madly pawing at the very edge of the protruding book spine above her head. Arggggghhh... can't reach--why does Mr. Patterson have to be on the top shelf-- he deserves better--

The book fell.

"OW," Robin complained aloud, one hand holding the book, the other rubbing her fore-head. Next time, ask for help before it falls on your face. Stepping backwards out of the isle, but looking slightly prouder of herself and less irritated, and turned around to find a person.

Oh, hello-- person. Slightly bemused-- Robin had thought she was the only one here due to the common dinner/dessert time-- it took a second to recognize the back of the person's head.

"Kins?" Okay, maybe she shouldn't have sounded so surprised-- but somehow, Kindake was one of the last people Robin expected to see in a library. But hey, she was happy to see him, just amused. She would think he wouldn't have to attention-span for books. Plus, Robin hadn't seen him sense-- "What are you doing here?"

[Kinkade Cymir Malixi]

REVIEW
_{some day, you'll
sing it out loud-
one day this'll
make you proud.}

If Kinkade would have heard her say ow, he may have paid attention before he did. But he didn't, so when she spoke, he was truly startled. He turned in his chair, grinning cheerfully as he confirmed that the familiar voice was, in fact, Robin. The day just got a lot brighter.

"Hey, Sunshine!"Kinkade greeted. "I'm, uh,

[/color]" Kinkade glanced guiltily at his book. Well, he was wasting time, pretending to be studying, hoping Shiloh would walk in and get the wrong idea about what he'd done for the last two hours. But did he really want to tell Robin that? No, that was okay. He was afraid of earning a lecture from her.

"Studying about America- and not the good parts that have to do with Hershey or, well, anything modern.[/color]"Kinkade resolved, not bothering to mention his drawings. He turned his gaze back to her, the smile never leaving his lips. "What about you, what are you doing, Robin?[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“And at times I wondered if I had not come a long way to find that the thing I was searching for was something that I had left behind.”

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Robin grinned back for a moment, wondering why anyone would have to study for history-- you're just basically learning the same stuff from middle school again-- before mentally smacking herself and replying. "Well, Hershey never was that interesting anyways," she nodded once, leaning back against the wood face of the book-shelf and holing her new-book to her chest. "They set up a chocolate-factory and that's about it."

After that came more about Philadelphia-- which came with the declaration of independence-- which came with memorizing it every year-- Robin still had most of the words burned into her brain. "And modern stuff is mostly about our failing economy and war and political drama, Sarah Palin, and the very judge-mental comments about mutes and such-- so again, not missing much there," Robin finished, wishing that she had taken world-history this year.

And then, What am I doing here? Robin blinked blankly for a few seconds, before glancing down at the book in her hands and sighing drearily. "English book assignment thingie. Have to pick out a book to read and probably eventually write an essay on. Sadly, there aren't many good books here-- and they aren't even arranged by the Dewy-System, so everything's so hard so find."

The girl was still fuming about that, even though they had a full staff of librarians they didn't bother to arrange the book by the Dewy System, or by genre, or by alphabetical at all. Very weird like the rest of this school, and no doubt containing some hidden meaning that some poor group of students would figure out later.

[Kinkade Cymir Malixi]

REVIEW
_{'cause what you want's
not what you're getting.
it's just a matter of time.}

"Well, all these guys did was learn how to grow tobacco and corn,

[/color]"Kinkade responded with a shrug. He, personally, would rather learn about the chocolate guys than these guys. "Shi wants me reading about colonial stuff. The only good part about this is that the explorers all seem drunk when they write back to the king. It's awesome reading what they have to say. They talk about the christianity of the cows- as if the animal displays some telling religious cues. That had to be optimistic; send away men with tons of your money from your treasury, have them send you back useless, unsubstantiated babble.[/color]"


"Modern stuff matters more and changes less.[/color]"Kinkade retorted. He wasn't angry with her or anything, but he figured he was right, so he was self-assured in his statement, but calm. To her answer to his question, he could only grin and nod. No good books? Ha, right. This library had hundreds of books. At least she didn't have to read this textbook. But he didn't bother to say that. Instead, he said,

"What'd you choose?[/color]"Kins gestured toward the book in her hand."And why don't you sort it yourself? I mean, we're stuck at the school for a while. Just do it one at a time, slowly working your way through the library. The librarians won't notice until it's too late.[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Christina Ann Robins]

:::::::::::::::::

“Depth must be hidden. Where? On the surface.”

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Laughing quietly at his comment about the cows, but not so sure that he was actually joking-- Robin nodded, compyling with a slight smile. "True, true," she agreed, the did probably a little more than either of them had said, but it was better to just leave it at that. Modern, past-- weren't they all the same to the people who lived at that time-- or the people of the future? This was turning into huge pardox, and smiling inwardly-- Robin glanced down at the cover of her book at almost the exact second Kindake asked her what book she had gotten.

"Tick-Tock," She read off the paperback blue cover, and glancing back up at Kindake, she finished, "by James Patterson. Looks from the back cover to be a murder mystery, which is all food for me. Patterson is one of my favorite authors, so I saw his name-- and I went for the book." Flashing the cover, she-- for a full ten seconds-- actually considered the challenge of rearranging the books back into order. It would literally take the rest of her three years here, if she spent an hour each-- whoa wait, I'm actually considering it? "That would take way too long," Robin laughed, huestering around to the endless stacks of towering bookshelves. "And maybe the books are already arranged in some special order of randomness that blows over my head."