#atlantisxiswaiting

[zanerowe-blog]

No Indiana Jones, But... || Milo and Zane

Zane was sitting in the park, a computer on his lap. Usually he tried to actually do stuff when he was outside, especially when his stepmother forced him out of the house to go be active, because he didn't play any sports which meant, in her mind, that he was obviously out of shape. He wasn't, and usually he didn't care much, liking walks and random adventuring just fine. But that morning he'd been in the middle of an Indiana Jones marathon, three quarters of the way through the second movie when he'd been rudely forced to relocate.

Luckily, the park was pretty deserted, and he was able to find himself a nice spot under a tree, where he could continue his marathon in peace. He'd just begun the third movie, humming along to the theme song, when he saw someone who had been walking along the trail stop and look at him. With a grin, Zane waved slightly at the man, "It's Indiana Jones, wanna join me?"

[nikochatz]

The Ancients || Milo and Niko

Niko was in the library again, curled up in the back, between two of the lesser used bookshelves, ones on linguistics, an old book open on his lap. It was an untranslated manuscript of Plato's The Repubic, one written in Greek. It had taken him a while to come across it, but the library had finally obtained a copy, which meant he'd be spending the next week or so pouring over it, reminding himself how to read ancient Greek, a language he hadn't dealt with since his first life. His memory was a bit fuzzy, but it was worth it, the thinker's thoughts making the headache bearable.

He'd been left in silence for a while, and had succeeding in getting through a good portion of his reading, occasionally stopping to mentally follow the philosopher's logic, not caring as much about the other man's thoughts as he did the way he got to them. The journey was more important than the destination, especially in cases like these. About to start a new chapter, Niko looked up, seeing another man enter his little corner of the library, and his eyebrow immediately quirked as he wondered what someone would want from this section of the stacks. He'd only seen people in it once or twice before, in all his years in Storybrooke.