IC: David keeps walking past, thumbing through his book as he does. He looks back once but then stops. She's not paying attention. She has her own life, and it's-it's selfish for him to try and project...this isn't her problem is it...
He looks down at the page, eyes dilating. A small, sticklike figure is sketched crudely on the page, a dull humanoid thing with a white face and red streaks beneath its eyes. Now that alone would be nothing, nothing of consequence by itself, and heaven knows he's drawn darker things and better things before.
But he's had this book for years. He numbered the pages, for God's sake. And a few days ago, he could confidently say there was nothing on page 152.
But now there is.
Odd, he thinks to himself as he surveys the figure one more time. This crude little fantasy should be nothing, nothing but a little blot of ink and meaning.
But for some reason its familiar.
IC: The door the the chem lab opens as a student enters, clumsily carrying a mass of papers in one arm and a bag in the other.
"Whoops, sorry, excuse me.."