Anna's been doing more research on her own here, lately, after a productive session with Cloverfield and several late-night ponderings towards the Moon Presence. The thing is that tonight, most of the books she wants to pull that seem like they could give answers—about Pthumerians, about Trench, about the bridge between myth and reality that they seem to live between—aren't there.
The guy with all the books is pretty easy to spot, at least. She approaches him a little standoffishly, but relaxes once she realizes she recognizes him. "Hey, you're, uh. From the graveyard." Anna might not look very familiar with her new longcoat and missing eyepatch, and she's pretty sure she never gave him her name, but it's hard to forget this guy.
She puts a hand on the table and takes a look at the spines of some of the books, then at his eyes, which. Eesh. "You been at this a while?" Bold words for someone with a black-and-gold glass eye. "'Cause I haven't had a lot of luck since September either."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
1
The guy with all the books is pretty easy to spot, at least. She approaches him a little standoffishly, but relaxes once she realizes she recognizes him. "Hey, you're, uh. From the graveyard." Anna might not look very familiar with her new longcoat and missing eyepatch, and she's pretty sure she never gave him her name, but it's hard to forget this guy.
She puts a hand on the table and takes a look at the spines of some of the books, then at his eyes, which. Eesh. "You been at this a while?" Bold words for someone with a black-and-gold glass eye. "'Cause I haven't had a lot of luck since September either."