fandomhigh | Library [06/13]

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Library [06/13]

The books were more or less in a state of half-decent organization, with the exception of whatever happened to look interesting in the mechanics section, today. Pearl Jam was playing relatively quietly on the stereo, and the faint odour of burning sulphur drifted lazily throughout the library as today's library aide contented himself to sit at the desk and read.

Must be a Sunday.

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//They might,// Jono mused, //though, as I said, it's generally civilians who toss their cards in to clean up these messes.//

He rifled through the stack some more, looking for anything else that might be useful, and then just shrugged and gave up.

//Yer best bet overall, really, is to speak to people who were there. Documents and radio broadcasts... they miss things. Survivors remember. Often in minute, gory, unsettling detail.//

"Is that supposed to be a warning?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "About the detail?"

Jono gave her a wry look before straightening out the newspapers that he hadn't pulled out. Mostly for something to do with his hands.

//That depends mostly on what it is yer asking about,// he allowed. //And who.//

"What about you?" she asked, not bothering to skip around the subject. "What can you tell me?"

//About the fog? Or perhaps th'gremlins or that day where all the vegetables went completely barmy?//

Jono had, like, options here to choose from.

//Or maybe something a little more sedate, like when people here turn into other people, and such.//

Her lips twitched.

"Is there an 'all of the above' option?"

//That,// Jono decided, //depends entirely on whether or not you can stay on my good side.//

There was a sort of a lilt in his voice, something that hinted that he was mostly joking, honestly.

//Where should I start, then?//

"Which of the... situations is the most common?" she asked, choosing to not say anything about how likely it was for her to not manage staying on his good side.

Jono's good side was surprisingly easy to remain on, so long as you didn't go poking at his issues.

... Of which there were many.

//I've heard that the thing where people turn into other people happens at least once a year,// he noted. //But it doesn't really... seem like th'sort of thing that can be planned for, exactly.//

And Rosalind was not gifted with tact, no.

"What does that even mean?" she asked, frowning slightly. "I could... turn into--you?"

Jono squinted a little at that, and then shook his head a bit.

//It seemed to me as though there was always some sort of... connection, somehow. Professor Skywalker turned into some whiny bloke who looked just like him, for example.// He contemplated further, and shrugged. //My girlfriend turned into the anthropomorphic personification of Death from a version of my reality. She... is Death, just with far less bone showing, generally.//

And much smaller breasts, for that matter.

"You're dating Didi?" Rosalind was pleased that she knew enough to make that connection. Unless there was another version of Death around the island. "So... I could turn into someone who looked as I do?"

And Jono, for as difficult as it was for him to look pleased about anything, managed to look pleased that Rosalind had made the connection, as well.

//Didi, yes. And maybe,// he agreed. //Or someone who shares yer name, or lord only knows what else, really. I didn't turn into anyone else when it happened here, so apparently it doesn't necessarily strike everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't next time, either.//

Edited 2010-06-13 20:19 (UTC)

...

"Is there any way to prevent it from happening?"

Jono was now giving Rosalind a look that suggested that if she had any brilliant ideas on stopping what could only be described as a force of nature, then she was quite welcome to try.

//Good luck.//

"Useful," she muttered dryly. "Do I keep my own mind?"

Jono shook his head at that, too.

//Not so far as I can tell,// he replied, apologetically. //If it's anything like th'time everybody just went absolutely mad, then yer not in control at all, but you remember it all when it wears off.//

He'd had a face, the weekend everybody went crazy. And he'd slept with... well... a good number of women. He tried not to think about that weekend too thoroughly.

She stared at him for a few heartbeats.

"That's horrible."

//Some get more lucky than others,// Jono noted. Once again, his voice had gone eerily neutral. Just words, with no real tone to go by. //There are people who spend days refusing to show their faces again, people who decide that the weekend wasn't entirely so bad, and people who... rather wish that they could go back to the way they had it before waking up in their right minds again.//

What to say, what so say... he was obviously dealing with some sort of issue here.

"Is this a bad topic?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

When wasn't it an issue with Jono? Really, now.

//Usually is,// he replied, drumming his fingers idly on the shelving before standing up again and crossing his arms over his chest. //If I wasn't up for talking about it, I'd let you know, gel.//

No, he probably wouldn't. Not until he got angry about something.

"It's Rosalind," she corrected. "And would you really?"

//Right. Rosalind.//

Gel.

//And... probably, yes.//

"I'll hold you to that for now," she said, though she'd be keeping an eye out for any other occurrences of that flat voice. "What about the other things you mentioned?"

//Gremlins, vegetables, things like that?// Jono looked her way for a moment, and then directed his gaze toward the ceiling. //They're just... things that happen, from time to time. Sometimes, invasions of the island are big and horrible and dangerous, and other times... Well, you wake up with yer trousers giving you the evil eye because you haven't had the opportunity to get them to a dry cleaner in a few days.//

Look, you didn't just throw leather pants into the washing machine.

//The vegetables were pretty much what they sound like. Tomatoes, cucumber, what have you, all trying to eat us.// He shrugged. //The gremlins were something like Fandom's garden variety, on steroids, with worse teeth and a greater inclination to use them.//

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