Owner Pose
Traci 13     It's dusk, in Metropolis. And Traci is walking down the sidestreet, having been gone for the most of the afternoon, skulking around used book shops for any chances of finding some -real- tomes that someone might've mistaken for something more mundane. It wasn't easy, afterall, getting your hands on such things. They aren't sold at the local Barnes & Noble.
    She'd left Paisly a note too back at the flat, telling her new roomate to meet her at the intersection, where they could then figure out what they're going to do the rest of the night. So, she leans against the side of the building, her legs crossed, as she thumbs one of the books she did pick up - no magical book on the occult, but a old copy of House of Seven Gables wasn't a bad find, either.