Library, [10/24]

[furnaceface]

It was probably important to note here that Jonothon really didn't hate life, the universe, and everything. But when faced with the option of spending a day in the library hiding from the brunch, all full of people and space dolphins and food, he really had found himself deciding that it was his only option, thank you so very much.

And, once he'd done his usual duties for the day, he was going to spend the rest of his shift leaning back into a chair and reading a Douglas Adams book about some sort of holistic detective, just to get this weird urge to start decorating the place with bowls of petunias out of his system.

Bloody space dolphins.

[Open!]

Comments

Mod your library!

[furnaceface]

Can't you see he's hard at work? People!

Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

Really! He's totally hard at work!

... Reading. This book is weird enough (and British enough) to hold his interest, thank you.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[intraspective]

"Jono!" Ino chirped, wandering into the library. "You busy?"

The book was not enough to deter her, no.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

Jono, say hello to Ino. Hello, Ino.

He glanced up from his book to level her with a look. And then turned back to his book for a moment before shrugging, grabbing a bookmark, and levelling her with his undivided attention.

//Apparently not at th'moment, no. What can I do for you, luv?//

[Sorry that took a while! I'll be back and forth for a little bit. This paint is stupid thin and apparently needs about a million more coats. o.o]

Re: Talk to Jono!

[intraspective]

"Sorry," she said unapologetically but looking a bit sheepish. "At least you can always pick up the book later?"

[HDU OMIGOD. <3 <3 S'fiiine.]

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

//S'what bookmarks were invented for,// Jono agreed, shaking his head a little, clearly bemused. //But I'll keep in mind that it's all yer fault if I forget where I was.//

About eight pages in. The horror. The horror.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[intraspective]

Ino wrinkled her nose cheerfully at him. Clearly that was the only response that could be given in that case.

"Good," complete with a bit of a bounce, "now, I've got a question for you, if you don't mind?"

... That was a question, Ino. And how could he know if he'd mind without knowing what the question was?

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

//Well, that would depend on th'question, luv,// he pointed out. //If you think I would mind, odds are high that I would.//

Which wasn't going to stop him from raising his eyebrows and gesturing at her with one hand for her to continue, no.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[intraspective]

"I don't know what you'd mind," she said, making a face at him. Really now. She was just being polite or something like that. "Buuut, you write music, right?"

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

//Occasionally.// Which was Jono-ese for 'all of the time, yes.' //Why?//

Re: Talk to Jono!

[intraspective]

"Well," she said, leaning against the counter. "That means you'd probably know a fair bit 'bout breaking into music, right?"

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

And now he was levelling her with a speculative, sideways sort of look.

//'Breaking into,' luv? You mean into the industry?//

Re: Talk to Jono!

[intraspective]

"Yes," she said, tilting her head. "Did I say that wrong?"

It was possible! This was new--thing for her.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

George had had a trip to the mainland (http://onapalebicycle.livejournal.com/3197.html) today. George's trip to the mainland had had unintended consequences. George was not please about this.

"You have to help me," she told Jono, making a beeline over to his desk.

She was holding her coat funny and scanning the room like she expected there to be cops.

Actually, she was looking for the librarian. He wasn't in her line of sight (which didn't mean he wasn't there, yeah, she knew that) so she felt moderately safe in opening her coat and scooping out -- drumroll, please --

-- a tiny, wriggly kitten.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

...

...

There was a kitten in George's coat. Why was there a kitten in George's coat? Okay, it was probably time to cover all of the bases, here. Fandom. George was still relatively new.

//Friend of yers? You didn't kiss some bloke and then this happened, did you?//

Re: Talk to Jono!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"What?" George said, staring at Jono and not following his line of logic whatsoever. "I didn't kiss anybody! That was Friday! And she's a pet! Not my pet. I can't keep her!"

There. That was very helpful.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

//You have... somebody's kitten. Cat-sitting, then?//

She was doing an awful lot of freaking out, there. Which really served to get a stranger look from Jono with every passing moment.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"No," she said. "She needs a home. I --"

... shit.

"-- found her," she lied, badly. "I went to the mainland and she just ... looked sad so I ..."

Fucking hell.

"Look, I can't keep her," she insisted. "I'm so bad with pets. Do you know what happens to my pets?"

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

//No, George. I don't know what happens to yer pets. That would require an added level of extrasensory perception that I'm in no mood to hone, today.//

He stared at the kitten.

The kitten stared back.

//In th'habit of taking in strays often?//

Re: Talk to Jono!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"No," George said. "She's not a stray. She --"

Way to fuck up your story, which was all of two sentences long, George.

"I -- don't think you want to know," she said. "But she had an owner, and now she doesn't, and I can't take her. I had a rat, and it died. I had a baby chick, and it died. Actually, the cat ate it, and then choked to death. Is that what you want for her?"

If the kitten was a her. She didn't trust Bean Dip to be positive on that matter, especially not if he'd named her Garcia.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

Wonderful. Jono was now apparently the only hope of survival for a small... fluffy thing.

//Why me, George?//

He didn't even know what kind of pet owner he was. Give him three days, and the hairball would probably have... caught on fire, or something.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

Garcia, who hopefully would be getting a better name than Garcia shortly, mewled sadly. She was sitting on a desk and there were people talking and this was scary. And when things were scary someone should be petting her, but no one was.

"I ... don't know," George admitted. "I don't ... really have a lot of friends."

Or any.

Re: Talk to Jono!

[furnaceface]

Oh, both of you, break Jonothon's flaming nonexistant heart. Honestly, now. That was a dual-effort gut wrenching, if ever Jonothon had seen one.

Which, naturally, meant that Jono was going to tentatively reach out a finger to scratch behind the kitten's ear.

//I've never kept a pet before,// he cautioned. //I mean... I... I don't eat. I might skip feedings. Or... sommat.//

Talk to the Librarian!

[furnaceface]

On the chance that he's about, instead of at the brunch, eating. Food.

So much delicious, delicious food...

OOC

[furnaceface]

Having worked in a greenhouse for a month, and having spent full and entire shifts plucking dead-heads from bowls of petunias, I think I'm qualified to go, "WHY. WHY WOULD ANYBODY WANT TO GROW THEM. THEY GET STICKY AND GROSS IF SOMEBODY OVER-WATERS THEM EW EW EW EW EW."

And also, they're pretty.