Books And Covers Thereof (1.2)

> Kitty: Refuse to get day started. Return to sleep.

Kitty looks back at the bed, with it’s soft feather pillows and sheets desperately in need of a better washing machine.  It’s a seductive thought, to lie in bed all day and think of anything except books.  Even the most stalwart Librarian would have had to admit that.

She can’t, though, no matter how lovely it would be.  There’s a Library to open up, a little sister to feed, and people to deal with, though of course from the safety of a sturdy library desk.  With a twelve-gauge shotgun on hand.

There are certain dangers to the modern Librarian occupation that sometimes require a bit more than a “shush” and a stern, disapproving look.

   

> Fondly regard your favorite book.

Favorite?  Favorite?   Her heart flutters in her chest at the thought.  Her pulse races.  How could anyone have a favorite?  They are all beautiful and special little angels filled with text!   She couldn’t possibly just pick one as her favorite!

As of late she’s been on a fiction bent, though.  Having finally plowed her way through most of the works of H.P. Lovecraft, she’s presently making her way through the entirety of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series.  She quite likes the Librarian, of course.  Not really sure what an orangutan is, though.  Maybe some sort of archaic, offensive term for people with a medical condition that makes them short, hairy, and have excessively long arms?

She really wishes people would stop asking her what manga she recommends, though.

>Kitty: Shower, dress, food, in that order.

That sounds like a good plan to her.  Kitty heads for the bathroom door, opening it.  The bathroom beyond is tiny, with an equally tiny shower and a moderately sized toilet along with a disproportionately large mirror.

>Back flip and kick the door to your bathroom open to prepare for your morning ablutions.

On a whim, Kitty turns around, glancing back at the door.  She thinks back to her childhood years growing up in the Library, when her exceptionally limber mother would make her practice gymnastics every day for reasons that never seemed especially useful in her daughters’ predestined occupation.

When pressed for further explanation, she’d just mumble something about “the top shelves” and then tap her foot against her other leg impatiently.

Kitty shuts her eyes, trying to remember...She holds her arms near her ears, swings them back while crouching, and then jumps.  She turns over in mid-air.

Her face hits the porceline tiles, as does the rest of her.

She decides to lie there for a few moments until the initial shock wears off, basking in the knowledge that no one was around to see what just happened.

“(Kitty!  Are you up there?)” shouts Yu’s voice, carrying up into the bedroom from below the stairs.

“(I’ll be down in a minute!  Just taking a shower,)” she replies, hauling herself off of the ground.  First checking to make sure her nose isn’t bleeding in the mirror, she disrobes and takes a quick shower.

It’s ice cold.  The Library’s water heater broke years ago.  Kitty and her sisters had been meaning to fix it, only they’d be putting it off for a while for their own reasons.  Lady was never home, Kitty thought being assaulted with tiny frozen icicles was an excellent way to wake up in the morning, and Yu refused to take anything resembling a shower or bath on principle.  What principles these actually are have never been clear to anyone, least of all Kitty.

She wraps herself in a pink, fluffy towel, kept immaculate through years of washing it after nearly every shower ever since the princess gave it to her as a gift.  It still smells of the princess’ thick perfume, which - Kitty desperately hoped - was simply a testament to how powerfully expensive her scents were, as opposed to a sign that the princess was breaking into the Library every night and rubbing it on her face.

Dear God, please let it just be the face.

> Kitty: Pursue CLOSET.

Kitty decides to pursue her closet.  Fortunately, closets are lazy, immobile creatures.  Kitty easily overtakes it within seconds and decides that her time would be better spent perusing it instead.

The closet is stuffed with clothing Kitty’s made from cheap fabric, as her mother and, yes, some of the books in the Library taught her long ago.  Blouses, skirts, and stockings in a rainbow of different patterns fill the closet, sitting on old but sturdy hangers.  There is a shotgun in the back.  

Kitty ponders quietly to herself.  Wondering what to wear.  Something practical?  Something formal?  Something cute?

Hmm-

“Kitty?”

“I’ll be right down!”

...Hmmm.