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[color=Silver]	As soon as Laurence heard the uproar of statements, a wave of confusion overran his system like never before. Within seconds his face showed nothing but awe-struck. There were many red-flags being raised. Mikhail was the first to spout randomised stuff. Poison? Antidote? Was he asking a regular student within Evergreen Grammar School, in London nonetheless, to help with...[i]that[/i]? This was the most bizarre set of events that humanity had yet to come across. Laurence was a prime pilgrim, expediting such strange manifestations of hilarity and mystery like his forefathers before. And yet, he still found no real understanding. His mind pondered on such rich conversations without as much of a clue where it was going, what was next or what curve ball would swing towards them. For a second, his face remained blank. How could he react to such a strange conversation? He turned, looking away for a moment as a newcomer arrived to the stage. Alex, the apparent dense-of-all-that-was-dense, so the word went around. Laurence had no personal quarrel with him nor believed that he was dense, but it wasn't exactly something he'd not keep in mind. Rumours did sometimes hold some truths, as his novels had actually shown him. Spite and sharp tongues were thrown across the table almost immediately. A coarse agenda like no other had been located from within Alex's words. Manipulation? Was there some form of bad blood that was yet to be discovered, or was Alex simply trying to face the problem head on? Every second bore a hundred more questions, ones that refused to answer themselves in due time.

	Soon after, introductions were set loose. Mikhail commented on his history joke, proclaiming that he was a [i]fan[/i] too. Well, for that to be the case Laurence himself would've had to be a fan. Even more irony. The one who's nation got its rear-end handed to against a man with white pyjamas on was rather an interesting development indeed. For a while, Laurence began to feel like a detective or investigator of the sorts, coming to his own conclusions on the wild chase of answers he so desired. Momentarily Laurence stood back, taking a seat yet again to conjure up answers of his own. Damn, Mikhail didn't have ambitions...he was insane, probably? Could it be, or was he just that confident in some larger-than-life plan he'd manifested himself? Laurence was starstruck at the possibilities, yet found no clear answer as more spite was shot from across the table. Eyes started to peel towards the group on the table. Laurence took his reading glasses out from beneath his case and propped them onto the tip of his nose, sighing heavily as he did so. Someone had to lay dowm some order, and at this point there was no solving it. Merja was the Chamberlain, appeasing either sides, whilst Tsar Nicholas on one end ranted on world reforms and the school's fellow chad kept his spirits high. How tiring, one might think. Laurence definitely thought so. Sometimes, it took a bit of logic, realism and tough love to sort something out, and now was that time. For Laurence, it was time to enter into his creative fantasy.

	All around him, he could feel the lights dim, as the spotlight of a lamp shone down onto the table, showering all three confidants in its godly ray. Noir; the world had fallen into a grim black and white grey-scale, taunting the realities of what actually was going on outside of Laurence's mind. Truth be told, nothing had changed, Laurence was just a bit too caught in his playful creativity once more to not amplify the situation. If the school had no uniform policy, a long, drab trench coat and a loosely brimmed had would shroud his openness and create a more daring atmosphere. Instead though, it was simply a case of talking to three students like a normal person: oh but what fun Laurence could have with exaggerating the situation within his mind. After all, it could be the great breakthrough he needed for a novel idea.[/color]

[color=1088EC][b]"If I recall, a library is a place of silent studies and reading, so I'll have to interrupt your little tumble here!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]A strong joy encompassed Laurence as he beamed brightly, knowing full well that kindness was his best method of catching ones attention.[/color] [color=1088EC][b]"To begin with, Alex, would you please refrain from insults just for the time being. I won't let anyone hold back afterwards, I just want to try and make sense of all of this strangeness."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Merja simply sat where she was, a true Finnish victim of all that was to come. She sounded puzzled, timid from the argument at least. Who wouldn't be? Two weird titans were trying to proclaim their strange ideologies over one another. In fact, Laurence himself was frightful of their strange engagement more than anyone else. Not to mention, the peeling eyes of many students gawping towards them made him feel uncomfortable and afraid of any escalation. The last thing he needed was to be brought into the troubling end of this experience, so he tried to remain a neutral peacekeeper in it all. Finally, he turned to Mikhail. There was a lot to question, and even more to debate, so he tried to keep his words brief and within the realms of understanding.[/color]

[color=1088EC][b]"Okay, Mikhail is it? Uhm...I just want to like...I don't know where to start, I'll be honest. It's like talking to a protagonist of some sort of weird book on my shelf, y'know the unbelievable ones. Anyway..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]On paper, such phrases would've sounded harsh and uncalled for, yet Laurence meant it seemingly in a rambling sense. There was no offence trying to be taken, nor did he want to attack or worsen anything. Laurence's understanding of debates was unclear and rather fruitless, but he still wanted to make sure everyone got along where they could. Those were the things that truly made him happy: unity.[/color] [color=1088EC][b]"If you really are so concerned about this situation, to which professionally trained doctors, police investigators, governmental figures and even forensics could not deter, why do you think students from an London grammar school would have any worth in the case? Shouldn't you be conducting some sort of collaboration with the police, or like...I dunno...working as a witness? Also, I hate to be the realist here, but doesn't it seem a bit weird to you that one Russian transfer student, I think, is trying to take on the Kremlin? I mean...I don't think anyone here is thinking much through."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Before he could continue, a familiar voice flanked him and took him off guard. Romani, a sudden student with relaxing demeanour, approached him to quiz him on the recent lessons of Philosophy. Of course, dozing off in philosophy was a very easy thing to do. Students who were even enjoying the subject couldn't help but feel a long dread as the time slowly ticked by. It was one of [i]those[/i] subjects that would last forever and ever. Even though his name wasn't really close to the reference, he held off the temptation to ask him to go bowling with him in some pan-slavic accent.

	Laurence nodded, looking into his bag and kindly bringing out his notes and gently placing them in Romani's hands. He smiled brightly as he did so, nodding with a great succession of understanding the struggles of sleeping during the length horrors of the philosophy class. It was anyone's guess why Mr Sharp, the teacher, hadn't even picked up on the sleeplessness of his students.[/color]

[color=1088EC][b]"I've got a spare copy at home, but copy as much as you want! It's under the title "Gettier Problem" if you wanna catch up on what we did last lesson. Make sure to bring it back tomorrow! And as for this group..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He turned back to Merja, knowing full well she was caught within the antagonising threats of both aggressive parties.[/color] [color=1088EC][b]"It might be healthy for you to disperse, especially you...Merja, was it? It was good to meet you, though I think we both wish it would be under better circumstances."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	With a faint chuckle, and a hopeful deliverance of his take on Mikhail's rather outlandish set of ambitions in life, he began to make his way out of the library. It was as if an aura of sunlight shone around him as he walked in strange grace and happiness, finding the conversation he just had an uplifting experience. He hoped that someday they'd come back and talk to him, making his year worth going through. Either way, all he had to do was go home, cook dinner and sleep until the Friday. After all, Friday had him booked for a meeting with the Vice Principle, Mr Ashcroft.[/color]

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