Post by Eamon Flynn on Jul 16, 2015 19:50:06 GMT -5
This was entirely against Eamon's usual modus operandi. He'd loaned countless books to students during his time as librarian, but never gone out of his way to specifically seek someone's opinion on any individual book. In fact, generally it was the professors who sought him out for such opinions, at least until the murder that was. Eamon's shined shoes clicked on the floor as he made his way to Professor Plath's accommodation, his mind overflowing with nigh-impossible theories on cosmic magic. Surely if anyone were to be an expert on the feasibility of integrating planets and stars into advanced enchantments and the like, it would be the astronomy professor.
Eamon stopped sharply in front of Zigana Plath's door, and rapped twice on it. Hopefully she would be in, and not currently teaching a class, or down in Camden Hills. He knew that his own accommodation in the school was barely used, frequently abandoned in favour of his much more homely room above the bookstore. It only occurred to him then that appearing outside of a female professor's room after dinner might be viewed as untoward by many members of the staff and student body, but he was hardly doing so with any dishonourable intentions. That made it fine, surely?
Eamon stopped sharply in front of Zigana Plath's door, and rapped twice on it. Hopefully she would be in, and not currently teaching a class, or down in Camden Hills. He knew that his own accommodation in the school was barely used, frequently abandoned in favour of his much more homely room above the bookstore. It only occurred to him then that appearing outside of a female professor's room after dinner might be viewed as untoward by many members of the staff and student body, but he was hardly doing so with any dishonourable intentions. That made it fine, surely?
