Library -- Tuesday

[death-of-hope.livejournal.com]

The fog was creepy. Creeeeeeeep~y, and every Coralian sense that Anemone had was hissing and spitting and standing on end; it wasn't natural, it wasn't right, and it grated like nails against a chalk board on her skin.

Still, the library was open, coffee on and Anemone pacing the aisles, something slightly... off, in her eyes. The library aide was in... you just might not be talking to the one that's usually on-duty on Tuesdays. At least, not completely.

[The OCD is in the House!]

Comments

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[death-of-hope.livejournal.com]

"A vast image out of Spiritus Mundi troubles my sight," Anemone sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "I'll be fine, I just need to take my medicine today."

She didn't want to, but she would, just so she didn't creep everyone out during class.

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[one-who-goes.livejournal.com]

"Okay," Henry said, still looking a little worried. He wasn't about to pry into somebody else's medical problems, so -- "Just take care of yourself. You know how to shout for me if you need help."

He turned away, then paused. "And absolutely no fiddling with special collections today, I don't care if some rough beast slouches back there to be born."

It was good to set boundaries.

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[death-of-hope.livejournal.com]

Anemone pouted. "I'd feel better if we could let Special Collections out to roam the perimeter," she countered. "Shapes with lion body and the head of a man might be useful today." Wrong. All wrong.

Still, she threw him a bright smile. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Sometimes I'm just a little bit more different than I usually am."

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[one-who-goes.livejournal.com]

"You could let Gulliver out," Henry suggested, eyes flickering to the panduppy. "Or not. I wouldn't even let a cat out into this fog."

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[death-of-hope.livejournal.com]

"Gullivers can be very fierce," she agreed sagely with a nod. "But only in defense of food or me. I don't think it's best for him to be alone outside when there's Wild Things about."

Anemone didn't know what was out there, really, other than the fact she didn't like it, but she didn't know if it had a taste for panduppies.

She wandered over to the window, going up on her tiptoes to peer out. "I wonder if it's watching us back."

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[one-who-goes.livejournal.com]

Henry tried to put on his I-am-a-reassuring-adult face, though it faltered. He'd been in Fandom long enough that the question got to him -- maybe there were wild things lurking.

Or maybe he'd been in the fantasy section too often.

"It's just some bizarre weather," he said, turning away from the window. "You could close the blinds if it'll help you not to worry about it."

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[death-of-hope.livejournal.com]

"No." She pressed one hand to the glass, her entire body shifting from her normal bird-like pose to something more fluid, older. "It's just waiting. But that's okay, we can wait too."

Then she was spinning about, skipping off into the stacks again. "I think I'll chase the sentient dust bunnies from under the books. Maybe we can make them into a can-can troupe."

Re: Talk to the Aide!

[one-who-goes.livejournal.com]

Henry held his breath until she was skipping again. He was pretty good at reading people, at sussing out a danger before it turned into a problem, and for a second there she had looked --

Not dangerous. Not exactly. But very Different.

And then the moment was past.

"Let me know if any of them learn the hula," he said, nonsensically, as he began to meander back toward his office.