"This is bullshit," The minotaur muttered, slamming a handful of change onto the wooden desk.
"Sorry, sir. Its policy," Cecil said, feathery antennae drooping at the noise. His hands -all four of them- quickly but daintily sorted through the myriad of coins and miscellaneous pocket litter. He smiled as best he could as he pushed the remainder back toward the seven-foot hybrid glowering down at him, "Thank you! Is there anything else I can help you with?"
The minotaur snorted and stomped off. Cecil waited until he was out the door before breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Late fees brought out the worst in people. He set his grey, carapace covered fingers to work smoothing the white fur poking out of his waistcoat. He rechecked himself in the reflection on the computer screen beside him and adjusted his round glasses. There; perfect, professional and pretty. Cecil smiled and turned back to face the front.
He loved it when the library was like this: not quiet and lonely, but not so busy that he was overwhelmed. Four hands made quick work of a lot of things, but even he had to slow down from time to time. The hum of quiet conversation filled the air as the students went about their work. A few groups co-ordinated projects in white armchairs placed by the enormous windows, while others sat in silence at wooden desks between the rows of bookshelves. Everything was shiny and polished -precisely the way he liked it- and even the deep blue carpet seemed spotless. His neat-freak tendencies left him in a constant state of stress, but Cecil was used to it. When you're a tiny moth in a world full of monsters and predators, you have to learn to deal with things like anxiety.
He heard the tapping of many small feet making their way over to him. Speaking of predators...
"Good afternoon, Ms Stamati," He said with a smile.
"Cecil," Sybil said back. She was as prim and proper as he was, though while he came across as polite and welcoming, she was cold and firm. Hawkish features beneath a neat brunette bun and frameless glasses. A tailored shirt and blazer sharp enough to cut your fingers. And, of course, the enormous spider body from the waist down. Wolf Spider, if Cecil remembered correctly. "I do hope that wasn't commotion I just heard."
"Nothing I couldn't handle, ma'am. Just someone... disappointed with the late fees."
"You don't have to be diplomatic with me, Cecil."
"Sorry. Force of habit, ma'am." He scratched the fluffy hair around the base of his antennae.
"Anything of note about this incident?"
"No, ma'am. Just a couple of textbooks running a few days late."
Sybil scowled, "It's always the small amounts..."
"Was there something else you needed?" Cecil said.
"Yes," She pulled a pile of books from behind the small of her back -balanced atop the carapace of her thorax- and placed them on his desk with an oddly satisfying 'thud.' "I need these indexed by the end of the day. I trust you'll be able to manage that?"
"Of course, ma'am. I'll have it done as quickly as I can."
"I expect as much. Assuming no more distractions."
"Distractions?"
Sybil jerked her head toward one of the bookcases. Cecil turned, just in time to see two giggling girls dart behind it. He felt his cheeks redden slightly.
"Ah... I see..." He said, his lower arms fidgeting.
"Don't let your popularity keep you too busy, Cecil." Sybil turned and clicked her way back down the hall, forcing a few patrons to duck under her chitinous abdomen. Cecil's fidgeting grew more intense; he wouldn't exactly call it 'popularity.' Apparently, there was some sort of appeal to a small, shy boy with fluffy hair and glasses. He could see it in others for sure -in fact, that was one of his own types- but he wasn't... well, he was definitely not cute enough to warrant this much attention. Especially not every day. From almost everyone. To the point where he left each evening a blushing incoherent mess.
"Heya!"
He snapped back to reality. A trio of young women stood in front of the desk. The one in the centre was tall, her crop-top and shorts exposing a lot of amber skin and toned muscle. A little leather collar was tied around her neck, and when she smiled, Cecil could see a set of small fangs. A werewolf, then. The monstrous aspects of her companions were more visible; to her left a short harpy in a yellow sundress, a stack of books balanced delicately in the crook of her brown wings. To her right, a similarly well-toned red-head with big, cat-like ears and a long tail that was always moving beneath her pleated skirt. They all looked to be on the verge of giggling and grinned down at him with smug, amused and slightly predatory expressions.
"Hello. How may I help you?" Cecil said with a slightly shaky smile.
"We're just here to check a few things out," The werewolf said.
"You included," The cat-girl added.
Cecil's cheeks flushed. The harpy tentatively placed the books onto the desk, the pile teetering slightly. He kept his eyes down, quickly pulling each book from the stack and working it through the system as fast as possible. The light cooing, muttering and giggling from the trio was making his fingers tremble. He just had to breathe. This was a normal, routine thing.
"You really know how to work all of your hands at once, huh?" The werewolf said.
"Oh, um... thank you..." He mumbled.
"Makes me wonder what else you'd be good at."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, you know... dealing cards, painting... keeping people 'entertained...'" She winked at him.
"If he wants to keep me entertained, he just needs to keep that tongue going." The cat-girl gave her lips an exaggerated lick.