Leavenworth Smedry

Leavenworth judges the axe's ark, and leaps out of the wap...and forward.

If there's one advantage to losing his Talent, it's that he can now finally arrive on time to things, and he most certainly arrives to the location where the axe is not in the nick of time.

Given how closely a Smedry Talent is bound with a person's life and soul, it's even possible that by Rule-breaking Leavenworth, Archer has not only broken his power, but his ability to be late to anything.

...well, that would be nice, Leavenworth thought. He leaned and thrust forward with the tip of his backup sword, going for a thigh wound at the major arteries. Not a lethal wound, but a wound that would readily bleed out over time. A weakening wound.

Gary

Shiki. Then the history teacher's assistant. He looked like he'd known just as much about the secret history of the world as the teddy-bear enthusiast had.

He stops by his dresser, looking for a new jacket (dear Varsity Jacket, thine time had come too soon).

He frowns. He should pick something appropriate–Oh! Here's something! He pulls out velvet lined smoking jacket. Mom had bought it for him one year as part of a Sherlock Holmes Halloween costume. She'd gotten a deer stalker, but Gary had bluntly informed her that the cap hadn't been worn in the stories, and had in fact made it's first appearance in play dramatizations in the early 1910s...

...but it was a good Halloween. He had a pipe he never lit, he'd consulted Project Gutenburg and quoted all the lines from the stories while tricker treating, and actually managed a good Brittanian accent. He liked that memory because he knew Mom liked it as well, because it was a day...

...where he wasn't weird. Wasn't bad weird, that is. More cool weird.

He put on the smoking jacket, unplugged his modified smart phone from the charged, and stuck it in his coat pocket.

...he felt smooth wood. He drew out the old corncob pipe, stuck it in his mouth and nodded to himself.

"The Game's afoot!"

With that, he strode outward and went looking for either his roommate or the teacher assistant...Mr. Raoden, that was his name.

He also ran several deep trawling searches on people named Lelouch who grew up in the Britannian isles, as well as (on a hunch) the public face and figures of the Britannian National Library.

And he watched some streamings of that BBC Moffat show on the side.

(I was thinking that by doing relatively public searches on the British National Library, we could bring up the Read Or Die tv series as part of the Librarian canon.)