here comes the sun [open]

[basil]

"It's already been made quite clear exactly what the blasted man stole," Basil muttered irritably, quickly flipping through the pages of a particularly large, worn book, "It's a matter of why..." The case at hand was one the detective had caught scent of recently because, though he was employed as a Fantasian Detective, he wasn't the sort of man to be restricted to one thing. As such, Basil makes it a habit to keep up to date with all the goings on around the world, most predominantly various crimes.

The brunette was currently seated at a small table, pouring over books with his thick-framed reading glasses slightly askew. Smt. Pratibha Devisingh Patil, the president of India, was recently subjected to an assassination attempt. Fortunately she survived without injury, though the perpetrator was, regrettably, still at large.

The dastardly scheme that had taken place had indeed caused an uproar. As such, Basil Brightwell had demanded he be notified of any evidence and/or clues available. This may have taken a few phone calls to the right people, but the man had gotten his way.

Much to his disappointment however, there was..nothing. Well of course a few loose threads (literally) had been found and documented, and the means of entry into the president's private quarters was a controlled explosion, so there was a clear scene of the crime which was all very well, not to mention the presence of, strangely enough, chocolate chip cookie crumbs that the woman could swear was not from her. This clue flabbergasted Basil, but he took it in stride, trying desperately to connect each trail. But..it just didn't add up. Naturally, the most likely of suspect was an individual of Pakistani nationality, but that was racial profiling which, under the current tip-toeing the world seems to be doing, can't be investigated until further proof is available.

With a groan, Basil slammed the book closed and, taking off his glasses, laid his forehead tiredly on the cover. "It's only a few years old, this book, there won't be much information," he mumbled, eyes staring at the dark green cardboard, "It's hopeless. I'm at a dead end."

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been a long cold 3 5 4 words. lonely winter finished. feels like years open~. since its been clear click for outft. slowly melting anyone feel free to jump in~ <33. its alright REAL SLIM SHADY !? @ caution 2.0

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[holly]

One really wouldn't assume said Lola Rose Lee to be the type to hang around the book store in her free time because, well... she just wasn't. Most assume those who spend their leisurely time in the library are deemed as 'nerds' and generally, nerds aren't associated with good looks. Her attire also through off the idea of any 'nerdyness'. Her top was a bright and flashy red colour, little sequins trimming the top and bottom hem as though she ripped it straight from the costume rack backstage and decided to wear it in public instead. The top sat rather low on her chest, making her seem even less interested in the books before her.

Despite this, she really did come to the library for books. While she had a love of musical theatre and had a slightly larger than life attitude made her seem a little on the dim side, she wasn't what one could coin as a 'dumb blonde'. She played it up well, of course. That's the sort of thing casting directors want to see, a pretty girl twirling her hair without a thought bubbling around in her little head. So, this is what she presented to people. She very often danced around the fact that her other line of interest was a branch of Psychology that actually required quite a bit of thought and study. Not that anybody had to know that. Just like nobody had to know that she wore contacts every day, reducing her physical beauty to glass each night.

Her red heels clicked a little louder than she'd have liked as she entered the building. Despite her flashy outfit and bright look-at-me! blonde hair, she was fully under the impression that she wanted no one to notice her in such a uncharacteristic place. She didn't want the other girls in the line-up to wonder why she was there, it just led to confusion on their parts, unable to understand that she couldn't risk singing and dancing to be her only talent. If it didn't go through, what would she have to fall back on for a job? Her charm and good looks? Not everybody has the cardboard personality and lack of pride to be a trophy wife, sadly or else she'd already be working on it.

When her heels hit the carpet, she was quite grateful and sped up her step. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows were knit together to create an expression of worry across her fair features. A well-manicured hand lifted and pushed back her neatly mussed blonde hair in another worry-like habit. Being caught in the library really wasn't that big of a deal, but she still appeared quite uneasy. Luckily, her heeled feet led her to the section she was hoping for rather quickly, due to her remembering exactly where it stood from the last time she visited. So, she began looking through the books, her large eyes covered by a pair of large dark sunglasses an her fair head covered with a scarf like an old Hollywood starlet trying to conceal her identity. It would be just embarrassing for anybody to find the showgirl there.