And I came here again why...?

A young man shuffled into the library, his dark brown hair covering most of his facial features like usual. His bone-wings were spread out against his back, but he didn't have to worry, since they weren't big enough to knock anything over. As he looked around — which was quite amazing, actually, seeing as how his hair was covering his light brown eyes — he wondered why he had even bothered coming here.

Always the idiot, the voice of his alternate side said to him. You don't even read much. So what do you plan on doing? Wandering? Ha, there's no need to even know how to get around this place, seeing as —

"Be silent, Tristan..." Damien muttered under his breath, not caring that he had cut the other half of his soul off. It didn't matter to him; his other self was the only person that could make him express anger, really, but that was only because they annoyed each other day in and day out. Of course, to anyone that had happened to heard, it would appear as though he was either talking to himself, or was talking to someone no one else could see. In some ways, both of those answers were correct.

The seventeen-year-old started walking through the many shelves of books, unsure of what he was really looking for, but decided he might as well anyway.

As the boy walked, Tristan continued talking, just rambling off insults, trying to annoy the brown-haired boy even more. Damien's eye twitched, but he said nothing, not wanting to explode in the middle of a library. He would get kicked out of there in an instant if he did, he was sure of it. When he heard a sigh, he turned his head, noticing a girl sitting down with a book in front of her, working on something. Curious, the boy walked over, glancing at her work. A sculpture, eh? He had never been much of an artist.

He then realized he was staring, and blinked, realizing that was rude; he should at least say hello and compliment her work, no matter how quiet he was. "Bonj... I mean, hello..." he said, his French accent clear. He winced, knowing he had almost spoken his original language, but gad that he had caught himself. "What... what is it, that... that you're working on?" He was stumbling over his words like he often did, since he didn't know English very well.

Oh, great. A cheerful little girl. Get out of here, Damien, I do not wish to be annoyed... Tristan growled.

Damien frowned at his other self, hoping Lila wouldn't take it to mean he was frowning at her. He made his frown into a smile, even though it was somewhat forced, upon her cheerfulness. He wouldn't let the other half of his soul get to him... he had done so before when trying to make friends, and wouldn't do so again. If they found out that he had another side, that was fine, but he didn't like being thought of as being crazy, no matter how used to it he was.

When she showed him the dragon she was making, he nodded his head. "Cool," he said. "You're... you're very talented, you know.... I can't... I can't do anything artistic..." He allowed himself to laugh lightly, but then shook his head. "I'm Damien... Damien Trust. And you?"

And again, I'm not mentioned. Thanks a lot. Tristan sighed, trying to figure out how he could get his other side to get angry at him and yell so he wouldn't seem sane.

Damien shook his head with a soft chuckle. "Thanks... for the words of encouragement... but I don't really know if I have any talents..." he said. He couldn't sing, he couldn't do anything artistic... but he did suppose the girl had a point. "I suppose... I'll just have to think about it more..."

Oh, please... If the black-haired boy had been on the outside, he would have rolled his eyes. Too bad he couldn't while on the inside, though.

"It's nice to meet you, Lila," the young man said. He was silent for just a few moments, trying to come up with some things to talk about. And, to be honest, it hadn't taken long for him to. "How long... have you been here?" he asked her.