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Description
     It had been nearly a month since Tuition's return into the world of balance; or, specifically, balancing the conflicts in life of the common man. His job requires little to no maintenance, in comparison to the other Hatters, as he had always been a step ahead of the game. This leaves the foxbat with excess free time, of which he needed to fill; such a void leaves time to let one's mind wander off. In truth, the last thing Tuition needed to do had been to let his mind wander. Being a creature of habit, he would over-think the most simple of processes or ideas, which would result in him trying to re-define his means of going about it.
     Such an example would be the day where Tuition had stumbled upon a flaw in his features; being a bat, he has no "paws", per say. Rather, the ends of his wings have claws to them, much as a wild bat would have. While these do allow him a firm and strong grip in most cases, this does leave to the issue of using items that would require multiple fingers or claws per appendage, such as remotes, clippers, or adding wax to your mustache in thin doses rather than a giant glob which never spreads evenly.
     Working with books and files, Tuition is always constantly working with paper; and when he wasn't taking a deep inhale of delight from the old scent, he was writing and trimming the papers to size. Clippers, however, had been a invention he loathed, as they are typically small in design, which made using his two claws difficult to work together in such a short space. After using some of the ample free time, he began designing clippers that required a single claw; the clippers would be mechanical in design, sliding onto his claw and letting the tip of said claw triggering the motion of the two sharp blades slicing. While it had been useful for him, man takes advantage of those who are brilliant and stole the design...which led to mechanical knives, which lead to an easier string of mass murders.

     Fortunate for Tuition, his free time would soon be halved, as he had been accepted for a position that did not require direct working with the following; children, animals, balloons, ATMs, tollbooths, chalkboards, bags, groceries, cats, prisoners, lesser educated people, drunks, cats, teddy bears, politics, racism, greed, alarms, over-sized shoes, over-sized hoodies, and most important, cats. Only one job could be so blessed while also appealing to his interests, and that would be the position known as a "Librarian".
     Tuition's main job had to keep an eye over the books; the years had flown by, where the books lacked proper care and love. Dust piled up as thick as a comforter, while mice had made their homes within the walls without paying the proper taxes, because cats are unreliable with doing anything aside from hacking hairballs into your shoes. Tables had begun to collapse with age, which left books in hazardous condition; should a flame occur, the fire would spread far too quickly, which would result in years of lore and knowledge being lost...much like a high-school graduate.
     His nights would be spent enjoying tasks that most people would find quite dull and lacking in lust or at least enjoyment...however, that would be moving too far ahead. It would be best to learn about how his first night of the job had passed...

     The Clockwork Cities' town bell began to chime...unpleasantly. Tuition's ears fell flat, trying to ignore the sound that is amplified ten-fold due to his sensitive hearing. Each chime rang and rumbled along the length of his ears quite like a cat meowing into a trash can. Tuition uttered a vow to wear headphones when visiting the city at the time of midnight; the time, that he would clock into work.
      Now, I'm aware of what you're thinking; "what is your obsession with cats? It sounds as if you hate the species entirely, even when Bi-trixial isn't involved? Don't you own a cat that's larger than life and would be an ideal role-model for cats world wide? In fact, why do you bring up cats in every story if you hate them so much? You could easily bypass the topic entirely and your works would still be favorable instead of confusing your readers." Well, that's good and all, but not EVERYONE visits the local library in the day hours due to the sun, so Tuition is perfect for the night shift.

     The library had been empty of guests upon arrival; this was expected, as the news of an overnight employee had yet to be announced to the public. Few knew of the news in advance, which meant that there would be a handful, if ANY, visitors for the night. This boded well for Tuition, who had made plans to tidy the shelves a bit, as wells as dusts the tables and chase the mice out. While there was plenty to be done, he had no time goal; he could take all the time he wanted, and he reminded himself of this often...which only resulted in him completing tasks sooner, rather than later.
     The first task at hand had been to re-arrange the books in order on shelves, rather than laying about on tables, gathering dust. While the tasks' physical work would be easy enough, Tuition's battle had been against his understanding of "order"; in his experience over the years, he's had different views on "order". In this case, the books had hundreds of ways to be re-organized; by author, genre, title, color, shape, size, letter-count, number of cats involved, lessons, historical lessons, popularity, lack of popularity, accents, ink-types, if the person wore gloves when typing, fabric of the covers, paper-type....there's an endless lists to go by.
     For hours, Tuition would carry books around, constantly changing his accepted organization method. This left to the bat constantly opening and inhaling the eldest of books. While many of you flinched in confusion to what may be considered weirdness, allow me to explain.

     Books; they are magical.
     They age slower than man yet are much more delicate.
     They retain information better than us, yet are limited to what they can recall.
     Where people of flesh smell spoiled when they become old, books smell of a rich forest.
     Our world is of a physical constant, where as a world in a book can change with impossible ease.
     Books, much like man, can be full of joy and pleasure; sorrow and suffering; sin and hate; insanity.
     They are us; yet immortal in design, and not in practice.
     Therefore; books are magical.

     Tuition has spent much of his time nose-deep in books, enticed by lore and legend. The constant breathing through his nostrils has left an allure to books that is not perverse in delight. Overtime, he has learned to detail anything you want to know about the origin of a book based on it's scent; the paper type, ink brand, where it originated, and who had written the book. Being surrounded by thousands of books, it's hard to deny one such a pleasure...even if the practice does leave him relaxing more than he should.
     The bell outside chimed four times; within four hours, Tuition had every book placed on a shelf lovingly (and potentially sniffed). He stood behind the counter, indulging his attention to a book of a language few can read; between each page flipping, he would take a bite out of a succulent Kiwi, his favorite sweet fruit. Once every ten pages, Tuition would feed his unhealthy love for Vodka while giving his eyes a moment to rest...when then, two visitors stopped by, leaving the bat to hiding the booze bottle beneath his top hat on the counter.
     The visitor on the left stood at five-foot and nine inches, six-foot and four inches if you count his hat, of which was a fiery red, much as the rest of his three-piece suit wardrobe and fur had been. The counter-part stood around the near height, although he lacked fur, and wore an outfit worthy of a lab scientist, along with a sinister grin, and most sinister of all, glasses. While such a combination would sound...common, within the city grounds, there had been one detail that made the combo an on set; both were singed and smoking.

     "I had made it VERY clear, that it's TWO parts tree gum and THREE parts Solarium. The equation is as CLEAR as DAYLIGHT....which would explain how you would make such a simple and profound mistake." The red fox stormed on in to a bookshelf in the far corner while his claws pinched at a patch of fur to put out a miniature fire, while the second guest tagged behind with a wide grin. Tuition heaved the book up to his face to hide the slight snicker.
      "I may not be able to read your writing, but what I CAN read is that you ignored my warning; you should never leave liquidated-Khorium near an open flame. Even a man with such tastelessness such as you should know better." The pale man wore his grin with pride, before a thick tail struck his face in defiance to such words.
    "A-hruff-ruff-huff-ruff! My "tastelessness" is comparable to your skill in designing non-liquid based explosives...so if I lack taste, you lack the basic understanding of mechanics, you blood-suc-"
     "Bite your tongue, fox."
     "Why? Or else you will?
     The pale figure, whom of which sounded much like a vampire, reached into his lab coat and struck the fox in the back of a head with the dismembered tentacle of an octopus; which, creepily enough, had still been moving. With that challenge, Tuition had to leave the room, not wanting to see any potential damage that could occur to his books. Spending several minutes in the break room, he leaned back against a wall while jotting notes to set defensive devices for such occasions. Once the bell of the door rang, he knew it was safe to venture out.
     Two library cards were left upon the desk, which was a common practice, so that he knew someone had taken books out. The location held high respect and trust towards it's readers, and therefore, allowed one to take a book without registering what book had been placed out. Upon the cards, however, had been an odd, fizzing vial of brown and fairly see-through liquid, along with a note.
     "I apologize for the vampire's childish behavior-" which had then been hastily scratched out with "Nonsense, the fox started it!" Trying to decipher the letter, the sum of the writing essentially noted that the fox smelt the bottle of vodka, and alerted the vampire of the find. Using a bit of his drink, and their own experiment, the contents of the bottle should become amplified in both taste and effect; shame that Tuition refused to sample the vial's contents out of fear. The two came in smoldering; it's hard to blame him.

     Six times, the town bell chimed. Tuition hung upside down by one of the ceiling fixtures, getting a quick forty winks. The store had been cleaned completely, and he had nothing left to do. While such silence is unfavorable now, the store would gain many guests in the coming months, making such lack of attendance favorable. At one point, however, the bat swore he heard what sounded much like a sick and morbid ice cream truck drive by in circles...his eyes said differently. All he had seen was a woman who wore both pants and a skirt, along with a hat of her own, circling the building as he chased wandering people with her music box that sounded as if it hadn't been wound up in years. While this was the intentional tone for such an Entertainer, he knew no better, and decided to set up a sign demanding only "working" music boxes be played within a certain radius of the store.
     Tuition swung with a slight...drunken sway. Brandishing the remains of the bottle, he was in a stage of peace that hadn't left his well-being sick or overly-intoxicated. He made silent vows to never drink at work once customers became a norm...until then, there had been no issue seen in taking a brief sip now and then. While a few hiccups said otherwise, he had no one to argue with other than himself; and for once, he was agreeing with himself.

     Twelve; twelve thunderous chimes. Noon had arrived within the cities, and the cities were full of busy workers, excited children, and explosions followed my howls of pain and cries of horror, as two professionals became unprofessional when working with each other. The elder Librarian came to work on time, alarmed to see the condition of the store...which lead to a prompt heart attack from delight and shock. Tuition's shift ended at nine A.M., so the only being nearby to help had been a short, stubby man with a long nose, who assumed the elderly gentlemen was playing charades.
     The library would now become a strictly overnight location until a new day-shift employee had been found. When that day comes is left uncertain; what IS certain, is that should you need a book on any topic from any time era, you can consult Tuition at night...should you come bearing a gift of the "hard drink", he may even reveal some books of his personal collection...not that I would admit that in public; the night brings strange visitors within the walls of seemingly endless knowledge, and he guarantees safety for no person, other than himself, should you pick a bone.

     After all; only those who are wise, are wise enough to play dumb at the opportune moment.

Description
     It had been nearly a month since Tuition's return into the world of balance; or, specifically, balancing the conflicts in life of the common man. His job requires little to no maintenance, in comparison to the other Hatters, as he had always been a step ahead of the game. This leaves the foxbat with excess free time, of which he needed to fill; such a void leaves time to let one's mind wander off. In truth, the last thing Tuition needed to do had been to let his mind wander. Being a creature of habit, he would over-think the most simple of processes or ideas, which would result in him trying to re-define his means of going about it.
     Such an example would be the day where Tuition had stumbled upon a flaw in his features; being a bat, he has no "paws", per say. Rather, the ends of his wings have claws to them, much as a wild bat would have. While these do allow him a firm and strong grip in most cases, this does leave to the issue of using items that would require multiple fingers or claws per appendage, such as remotes, clippers, or adding wax to your mustache in thin doses rather than a giant glob which never spreads evenly.
     Working with books and files, Tuition is always constantly working with paper; and when he wasn't taking a deep inhale of delight from the old scent, he was writing and trimming the papers to size. Clippers, however, had been a invention he loathed, as they are typically small in design, which made using his two claws difficult to work together in such a short space. After using some of the ample free time, he began designing clippers that required a single claw; the clippers would be mechanical in design, sliding onto his claw and letting the tip of said claw triggering the motion of the two sharp blades slicing. While it had been useful for him, man takes advantage of those who are brilliant and stole the design...which led to mechanical knives, which lead to an easier string of mass murders.

     Fortunate for Tuition, his free time would soon be halved, as he had been accepted for a position that did not require direct working with the following; children, animals, balloons, ATMs, tollbooths, chalkboards, bags, groceries, cats, prisoners, lesser educated people, drunks, cats, teddy bears, politics, racism, greed, alarms, over-sized shoes, over-sized hoodies, and most important, cats. Only one job could be so blessed while also appealing to his interests, and that would be the position known as a "Librarian".
     Tuition's main job had to keep an eye over the books; the years had flown by, where the books lacked proper care and love. Dust piled up as thick as a comforter, while mice had made their homes within the walls without paying the proper taxes, because cats are unreliable with doing anything aside from hacking hairballs into your shoes. Tables had begun to collapse with age, which left books in hazardous condition; should a flame occur, the fire would spread far too quickly, which would result in years of lore and knowledge being lost...much like a high-school graduate.
     His nights would be spent enjoying tasks that most people would find quite dull and lacking in lust or at least enjoyment...however, that would be moving too far ahead. It would be best to learn about how his first night of the job had passed...

     The Clockwork Cities' town bell began to chime...unpleasantly. Tuition's ears fell flat, trying to ignore the sound that is amplified ten-fold due to his sensitive hearing. Each chime rang and rumbled along the length of his ears quite like a cat meowing into a trash can. Tuition uttered a vow to wear headphones when visiting the city at the time of midnight; the time, that he would clock into work.
      Now, I'm aware of what you're thinking; "what is your obsession with cats? It sounds as if you hate the species entirely, even when Bi-trixial isn't involved? Don't you own a cat that's larger than life and would be an ideal role-model for cats world wide? In fact, why do you bring up cats in every story if you hate them so much? You could easily bypass the topic entirely and your works would still be favorable instead of confusing your readers." Well, that's good and all, but not EVERYONE visits the local library in the day hours due to the sun, so Tuition is perfect for the night shift.

     The library had been empty of guests upon arrival; this was expected, as the news of an overnight employee had yet to be announced to the public. Few knew of the news in advance, which meant that there would be a handful, if ANY, visitors for the night. This boded well for Tuition, who had made plans to tidy the shelves a bit, as wells as dusts the tables and chase the mice out. While there was plenty to be done, he had no time goal; he could take all the time he wanted, and he reminded himself of this often...which only resulted in him completing tasks sooner, rather than later.
     The first task at hand had been to re-arrange the books in order on shelves, rather than laying about on tables, gathering dust. While the tasks' physical work would be easy enough, Tuition's battle had been against his understanding of "order"; in his experience over the years, he's had different views on "order". In this case, the books had hundreds of ways to be re-organized; by author, genre, title, color, shape, size, letter-count, number of cats involved, lessons, historical lessons, popularity, lack of popularity, accents, ink-types, if the person wore gloves when typing, fabric of the covers, paper-type....there's an endless lists to go by.
     For hours, Tuition would carry books around, constantly changing his accepted organization method. This left to the bat constantly opening and inhaling the eldest of books. While many of you flinched in confusion to what may be considered weirdness, allow me to explain.

     Books; they are magical.
     They age slower than man yet are much more delicate.
     They retain information better than us, yet are limited to what they can recall.
     Where people of flesh smell spoiled when they become old, books smell of a rich forest.
     Our world is of a physical constant, where as a world in a book can change with impossible ease.
     Books, much like man, can be full of joy and pleasure; sorrow and suffering; sin and hate; insanity.
     They are us; yet immortal in design, and not in practice.
     Therefore; books are magical.

     Tuition has spent much of his time nose-deep in books, enticed by lore and legend. The constant breathing through his nostrils has left an allure to books that is not perverse in delight. Overtime, he has learned to detail anything you want to know about the origin of a book based on it's scent; the paper type, ink brand, where it originated, and who had written the book. Being surrounded by thousands of books, it's hard to deny one such a pleasure...even if the practice does leave him relaxing more than he should.
     The bell outside chimed four times; within four hours, Tuition had every book placed on a shelf lovingly (and potentially sniffed). He stood behind the counter, indulging his attention to a book of a language few can read; between each page flipping, he would take a bite out of a succulent Kiwi, his favorite sweet fruit. Once every ten pages, Tuition would feed his unhealthy love for Vodka while giving his eyes a moment to rest...when then, two visitors stopped by, leaving the bat to hiding the booze bottle beneath his top hat on the counter.
     The visitor on the left stood at five-foot and nine inches, six-foot and four inches if you count his hat, of which was a fiery red, much as the rest of his three-piece suit wardrobe and fur had been. The counter-part stood around the near height, although he lacked fur, and wore an outfit worthy of a lab scientist, along with a sinister grin, and most sinister of all, glasses. While such a combination would sound...common, within the city grounds, there had been one detail that made the combo an on set; both were singed and smoking.

     "I had made it VERY clear, that it's TWO parts tree gum and THREE parts Solarium. The equation is as CLEAR as DAYLIGHT....which would explain how you would make such a simple and profound mistake." The red fox stormed on in to a bookshelf in the far corner while his claws pinched at a patch of fur to put out a miniature fire, while the second guest tagged behind with a wide grin. Tuition heaved the book up to his face to hide the slight snicker.
      "I may not be able to read your writing, but what I CAN read is that you ignored my warning; you should never leave liquidated-Khorium near an open flame. Even a man with such tastelessness such as you should know better." The pale man wore his grin with pride, before a thick tail struck his face in defiance to such words.
    "A-hruff-ruff-huff-ruff! My "tastelessness" is comparable to your skill in designing non-liquid based explosives...so if I lack taste, you lack the basic understanding of mechanics, you blood-suc-"
     "Bite your tongue, fox."
     "Why? Or else you will?
     The pale figure, whom of which sounded much like a vampire, reached into his lab coat and struck the fox in the back of a head with the dismembered tentacle of an octopus; which, creepily enough, had still been moving. With that challenge, Tuition had to leave the room, not wanting to see any potential damage that could occur to his books. Spending several minutes in the break room, he leaned back against a wall while jotting notes to set defensive devices for such occasions. Once the bell of the door rang, he knew it was safe to venture out.
     Two library cards were left upon the desk, which was a common practice, so that he knew someone had taken books out. The location held high respect and trust towards it's readers, and therefore, allowed one to take a book without registering what book had been placed out. Upon the cards, however, had been an odd, fizzing vial of brown and fairly see-through liquid, along with a note.
     "I apologize for the vampire's childish behavior-" which had then been hastily scratched out with "Nonsense, the fox started it!" Trying to decipher the letter, the sum of the writing essentially noted that the fox smelt the bottle of vodka, and alerted the vampire of the find. Using a bit of his drink, and their own experiment, the contents of the bottle should become amplified in both taste and effect; shame that Tuition refused to sample the vial's contents out of fear. The two came in smoldering; it's hard to blame him.

     Six times, the town bell chimed. Tuition hung upside down by one of the ceiling fixtures, getting a quick forty winks. The store had been cleaned completely, and he had nothing left to do. While such silence is unfavorable now, the store would gain many guests in the coming months, making such lack of attendance favorable. At one point, however, the bat swore he heard what sounded much like a sick and morbid ice cream truck drive by in circles...his eyes said differently. All he had seen was a woman who wore both pants and a skirt, along with a hat of her own, circling the building as he chased wandering people with her music box that sounded as if it hadn't been wound up in years. While this was the intentional tone for such an Entertainer, he knew no better, and decided to set up a sign demanding only "working" music boxes be played within a certain radius of the store.
     Tuition swung with a slight...drunken sway. Brandishing the remains of the bottle, he was in a stage of peace that hadn't left his well-being sick or overly-intoxicated. He made silent vows to never drink at work once customers became a norm...until then, there had been no issue seen in taking a brief sip now and then. While a few hiccups said otherwise, he had no one to argue with other than himself; and for once, he was agreeing with himself.

     Twelve; twelve thunderous chimes. Noon had arrived within the cities, and the cities were full of busy workers, excited children, and explosions followed my howls of pain and cries of horror, as two professionals became unprofessional when working with each other. The elder Librarian came to work on time, alarmed to see the condition of the store...which lead to a prompt heart attack from delight and shock. Tuition's shift ended at nine A.M., so the only being nearby to help had been a short, stubby man with a long nose, who assumed the elderly gentlemen was playing charades.
     The library would now become a strictly overnight location until a new day-shift employee had been found. When that day comes is left uncertain; what IS certain, is that should you need a book on any topic from any time era, you can consult Tuition at night...should you come bearing a gift of the "hard drink", he may even reveal some books of his personal collection...not that I would admit that in public; the night brings strange visitors within the walls of seemingly endless knowledge, and he guarantees safety for no person, other than himself, should you pick a bone.

     After all; only those who are wise, are wise enough to play dumb at the opportune moment.