Manchester Library - The week of May 23rd

As the last vestiges of daylight slipped from the sky, Rain found herself before Manchester's public library. Drawn to the building, she checked the hours of operation. Good. She still had time to actually go inside. Stepping through the doors, she tried to remember when it was last that she had actually entered a library. Before she'd been embraced, certainly.

Once inside, she paused to take a deep breath, smiling at the musty smell and quiet of the old building. Blonde head turning side to side, she began to wander the isles, fingers trailing across the spines of the books, old and new. She was searching for song material, and uncertain of where she might find inspiration, she scanned each isle.

It's in the history section that something catches her eye. An old book, it is titled, 'The Explorers of the Frozen Waste'. One gold brow arches above her sunglasses as she pulls the book free of it's resting place. Well... why not? It would make for interesting reading at the very least. Taking the book over to a chair, she settles down, gloved fingers already turning the pages.

Reading over each story, Rain stops to consider one in particular. It is a heartbreaking tale, and intrigued, she glances towards the media room where several computers are being employed by gangly teenagers who's fingers seem to fly above the keyboards. As one becomes available, she rises from her seat and wanders over, taking the now empty space.

She isn't a computer whiz by any means, and the number of years since she's touched one nearly equals those since she's been inside a library. It takes a few moments before she figures out how to key in the search, but one done, she spends the hours until closing pouring over documents about the Antarctic and the men who braved it.

Rain returned the next evening, thoughts still lingering on what she had read. She is lucky. One of the computers are free as she arrives. Taking her place at it, she continues her search, brows furrowing as something in another language flashes across her screen. Spanish, she thinks, and intrigued, she prints out the lyrics of what must be a song.

Locating the foreign language section, Rain selects a Spanish to English dictionary and carries it to the check out.

"We don't lend out our reference books." Rain is given a disapproving look over the rims of the granny glasses that hang from the end of the woman's nose. "And that will be .50 cents for the printout."

Rain sighs and digs into her pockets. She still has money left over from what Ra had given her, so she hands over the change and takes the dictionary back to a table, there to begin the laborious task of translating the song. It takes several nights, but when she is done, she smiles triumphantly. Now...to put it to music...