Beware the ides of March -OPEN-

[Albert Thomas Archer V]

There was failing & then there was failing. And the longer that this conversation continued, the more Albert accepted the fact that no matter his attempts to lighten moods, he was going to fail. He had to admit there was something interesting going on here, but as the Rook & Bishop were vying for position that they might storm across the board, Albert knew he would never be more than a lowly pawn in this game. There was intrigue here as well however, and even as a pawn that subject held no end of interest to the young man. He found himself liking Whatly more & more as things progressed, but he knew it was for the wrong reasons. He obviously held knowledge of the sort Albert had only recently learned of & more over he was so overt with it. While this caused him to warm to the man, it also frightened him.

"I'm preparing a paper on Yog-Sothoth. It's a diety commonly known among the locals. I'm assuming you've never heard of it."

The knowledge they both sought was dangerous, everytime Albert had so much as spoken a few words of what he knew something had exploded in flames, or numerous birds had fallen dead from above. To speak one of them as such was quite brave, or foolish. Whichever end of the spectrum it fell upon, Albert held no delusions that he had what it took to do so.

"Yog....Soul...??

The pronunciation was impossible, as so much of his feeble research had been. Yet it flowed so easily off his tongue, yes Mr. Whatly was far more knowledgeable than he had been given credit for. Tho as he thought upon the name it did click for him. Nothing important, a journal he had read concerning a silver key. But he could draw nothing more from it than that.

"No, I am afraid you are correct. I have not heard of it. Nor can i so much as pronounce it as it seems."

He Went back to looking between the two of them. Thinking h might have yet again said the wrong thing. But even if he had one would never know it from the marble faced Librarian, he was therefor surprised that much more when the Armitage again spoke.

[I]"You're absolutely correct, Mr. Archer, Tell you what, Mr. Whateley. Perhaps I'll be able to accommodate you better if you give us a more thorough idea of your research. The Necronomicon is as thick as they get. Might I narrow your search for you?"

He shot a glance at Freddie. "I think that sounds fair. Don't you, Mr. Archer?" [/I]

He had to admit there was a certain level of relief that it sounded at last like there was finally something akin to an accord being reached. Wilbur wanted his research, Armitage was willing to all but do it for him. a decent resolution if ever there was one. He was still concerned by how they kept pulling him into the middle of their negotiations. Just as one piece began to move, there between them again was the pawn. It was most confusing.

"I admit, it does sound fair. Honestly, to get a Doctor of Letters agreeing to help one with his research....One could do far worse. Plus, as i assume he is familiar with the work in question, there should even be a significant reduction in the ammount of time it takes you to cull your facts & get the paper written"

Albert spoke honestly, as he truly did believe that this could be a fair settlement. He was getting uncomfortable in this room. Being the shortest of the chess pieces, with these two much taller ones constantly looming over him. There was an certain level of apropriateness to all of this as he considered that he had come here to learn more about the strange goings on in Arkham & sure as Sally's your aunt he was getting that education here & now.

[Wilbur Whateley]

Scowling openly, Wilbur didn't hide his disdain for this turn of events. He couldn't have Armitage looking over his shoulder throughout the course of his research. But the librarian had laid out the trap, and Freddie fell for it hook line and sinker.

The possibility of the nosy librarian discovering the nature of his work set Wilbur teeth on edge. "I'm quite capable of doing the legwork myself, Mr. Armitage," he inisisted. "I wouldn't dream of burdening you with more work." He had to find a way to get out of this and quick. Armitage had him cornered with his proposition.

To resist violently would have raised eyebrows, so he softened the rejection with a kind of admission of defeat. For now.

"Perhaps I should return when you're in a more accommodating state, sir," he said after a beat. "I do hope you'll change your mind. I want you to know that the book means as much to me as it does to you." Wilbur was forced to bow out of this verbal battle, but by no means would this be his last attempt at the Necronomicon. If Armitage would not budge, then he would have to resort to shadow and subterfuge.

And while he knew the libarian would always be an enemy, perhaps he had found himself a new ally. "It's getting late, Archer," he remarked, nudging Freddie with an elbow as he rose from his chair. The freshman's preferred nickname was so horribly juvenile that Wilbur reckoned it was impossible for him to say it with a straight face. "I think it's about time we leave Mr. Armitage back to shelving books, or whatever it is he does, and have a pint."