fandomhigh | Library, Monday (11/1)

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Library, Monday (11/1)

Normally, this was the day of the week when you would find Gabrielle perched on a chair at the desk to the sound of cheerful, tuneless humming and the soft, rapidfire scratch of quill against parchment and the faint aroma of fresh-brewed coffee lingering in the vicinity.

In the wake of the trip to Kaeleer a few days ago, two of these things were true today: namely, Gabrielle was behind the desk, and there was coffee, but there wasn't much in the way of cheer or literary productiveness, and you'd have to settle for an introspective and somewhat quiet aide on this particular Monday. Actually, a third thing was partly true as well; there was a parchment scroll in front of her, although she was reading it, not writing on it. Anyone who could decipher the ~~random and completely made-up alphabet~~ writing on it might catch a glimpse of something about Roman forces in Britannia, a message from Boadicea, and the rise of a monotheistic cult of some concern.

It kept the library quiet, at least -- and Gabrielle realizing she was going to be packing for another trip very, very soon.

It couldn't possibly be worse than what she'd just gone through, anyway.

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If you don't need aide-aid. Which is not a tasty if overly-sugared instant beverage.

Who has totally not just jinxed herself by thinking that. Really.

Scully kept her promise to herself-- and Rosalind-- by going to the Library bright and early, coffee in hand. Fox at heels.

"Good morning, Gabrielle. Does the Library have books on the magic between different dimensions?" Rosalind was circling and sniffing, looking interested in various things.

She might still be carrying that peanut butter cup from last night, and batting at it.

"Oh . . . hi," Gabrielle said, a bit slower on the uptake than usual; it took her a second to look up from the parchment in front of her and focus on Scully. "I can say we have plenty of books on different dimensions' magic. I'm not sure how much we have on studies comparing them, though; it's not a section I've spent much time in."

She also halfway suspected that was a sort of . . . combustible area of study. Where the combustible material was the brains of the scholars researching it.

"What we have would be down in the ~~handwavey la omgbrains~~ section," she went on, but her attention was more on Scully's four-footed companion. "Pet, or student?" ~~And why must you taunt me with peanut butter cups?~~

Scully glanced in the indicated direction, then grimaced at Gabrielle's question. "Student. My roommate, Rosalind. It happened last night in the middle of a conversation. I didn't think it would be fair to lock her in the room, since she's perfectly intelligent and would get bored out of her mind--" Also, Scully was a soft touch with animals. "So she's going to be accompanying me until this is over."

~~Mmm, delicious Reese's! NOM.~~ "There's no rule against it, is there?"

Rosalind was now darting in and out among the legs of the chairs.

"My roommate's in the same situation," Gabrielle agreed with a smile that didn't come as easily as it ought to have, although she had to admit she was relieved; the lack of opposable thumbs and human speech made it a little harder for Karla to keep herself busy with things when she ought to be recovering. Or at least, she hoped so.

"Just as long as she doesn't chew the books," she offered, watching Rosalind and hoping that didn't offend the fox too much.

~~MEAN.~~

Rosalind shot her a snooty look. Whether that meant she understood and disapproved or was, well, just being Rosalind, was open to debate.

"I'll keep them away from her," Scully promised. "And what has Karla turned into? I thought it might be some kind of Halloween joke, but Rosalind was still like this this morning."

"Some sort of cat from her world." And if there was a tiny bit of a flinch at the reference to Kaeleer, Gabrielle didn't care, nor did she pay much mind to any disparaging vulpine glances. "It's happened before."

Gabrielle envied her, honestly. Even her ability to look for the good in things felt rather strained at the moment.

". . . is Halloween a big time for pranking?"

Amazingly, they hadn't invented that holiday in her time. Xena was slacking that day.

"Trick or treat is the big theme," Scully said wryly. "The tricks are supposed to come out if you don't offer up the candy to the askers. Egging windows, toilet papering trees. That kind of thing. Something weird was going on out there last night, but I didn't stick around to see what it was. Rosalind didn't go out, but I wondered if it followed me home." She gave Gabrielle a look of concern, evaluating how she looked and the listlessness when she came in. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'll be all right," Gabrielle assured her. It'd pass; the horror and sick feeling always did, or at least faded enough into the background to go on. "I'm really just tired. Why would you throw eggs at people who don't give you candy? Who came up with this holiday? Bored warlords?"

She could see Zagreus doing it.

Scully accepted that, and kept her voice light to move away from whatever was bothering Gabrielle. "It started in Ireland, actually. A feast to send the departing year on, Samhain. Supposedly, the dead would walk on the last day of the year, so people would dress up as spirits to confuse them, and not be taken away by harmful ones. Then put out offerings to propitiate them. Halloween is actually All Hallow's Eve." She paused, embarrassed to be sounding like an encyclopedia. "The tricking came in over time. The night before is Devil's Night in Detroit. Fires. Window smashing." The FBI got reports on those kinds of activities if they crossed a certain line.

"Ireland," Gabrielle echoed, somewhat uncertainly. The name didn't ring a bell to her in this form ~~because canon never could make up its mind which forms of what names to use, god~~. But she had read about that belief -- how in the name of Artemis had it turned into something about candy and costumes? -- and a moment or two of thought had her snapping her fingers (and thank you, Scully, for the welcome distraction). "In Britannia, isn't it?"

She snuck a glance back at her parchment. What timing.

"Britannia-- yes, that's the name for the whole group of islands there," Scully agreed. She smiled slightly. "Eire, or Ireland, or the emerald isle, is one of the smaller ones. My family's originally from there. Dana's the name of the mother goddess in the old religion." She tilted her head. "You've heard of it? I thought you were from Greece."

Which was always all kinds of confusing.

"I read a lot," Gabrielle said by way of explanation. (It was all the explanation she could give; don't ask her world to make any sense, Scully.) "And I've heard some things from Xena."

Yes. Xena had been there. Xena had, apparently, been all over the ancient world ten years ago. All of it. Ten years ago. As Gabrielle would continue finding out for the next don't even ask how many years.

"It's funny you should mention that, actually," Gabrielle added, drumming her fingers against the parchment. "It looks like I'll be heading that way soon. Maybe later today." Time with Xena ought to get her head back on straight after this last adventure. Right?

. . . right?

Right! Who would dare make Gabrielle's trip not go well, after all?

~~Aside from evil writers. Including the one wanting Reese's.~~

"Really? A vacation trip? Or something else?" Scully asked, curious. "And what did Xena say about it? I've never been there, just heard stories from my grandmothers."

"Xena's heading that way, and she wants me with her when she goes," Gabrielle explained, and rolled her eyes slightly. "She never said much about what happened -- just that she'd been there a few times."

Given Xena's track record, that could mean that she'd gotten into an altercation with the Tuatha de Danaan or something equally insane and eternally brood-worthy.

"As for this time? Ha. Boadicea*'s calling for her." Gabrielle's eyeroll was slightly more pronounced now, but not a jealous one at all. You stop thinking that. "It sounds like Caesar's army is moving on Britannia, and she wants help." And Xena, if Gabrielle only knew would jump at the chance to get revenge on Caesar. The smarmy bastard.

[OOC: * - I'M SORRY OKAY THAT'S HOW STUPID CANON SPELLS IT.]

"Boadicea? The Boadicea," Scully checked, blinking. "...Caesar?"

Forgive her, she'll quite repeating herself in a minute.

"What kind of help?"

[you are forgiven for making me type it like that instead of Boudicca]

"You've heard of her." Gabrielle threw her hands up. "Oh, sure, her, people know, but not Xena. What is wrong with history?"

. . . over in the stacks, the entire 900s section was probably shaking with silent rustly laughter. Dry, silent, rustly laughter. Sorry, Scully; you might be the hapless recipient of frustrated Gabrielle ranting now, just by dint of being there. And, you know, asking.

"Who knows what kind of help? It's not as if she ever gives me details, oh, no, it's just 'Gabrielle, let's go off to this place now,' 'Gabrielle, meet yet another friend I knew years ago, possibly when I was still evil,' 'Gabrielle, I owe this person a favor and they're calling it in ten minutes ago.'"

"It's written by men, mostly," Scully said absently, still trying to process that last bit. "They leave out the confusing parts with women in them... Xena was evil?" She paused. "But she's not any more. And you're going to Britannia to help her friend Boadicea with - fighting off Caesar. Which Caesar?" she checked.

Hey. Didn't Boadicea lose that battle? Or wait. Was that the one she won?

. . . don't ask Gabrielle. It hadn't happened for her yet, either way.

"Caesar," she replied, as if it ought to be evident. And have General Patton's theme music playing in the background. "Julius Caesar."

If Gabrielle had a theme song, it would involve breaking brains left and right, wouldn't it?

"Oh that's good," Scully said, her voice very mild. "I wanted to be sure it wasn't Augustus Caesar or Tiberius Caesar or God knows Nero or..."

She stopped, and bonked her head lightly against the library counter. Rosalind came over to sniff at her, then give a grumbling whine.

Consider this one more broken on on your account, Gabrielle.

What? Did she look like she kept a tally or something? Were there notches on her staff for this sort of thing? It wasn't Gabrielle's fault history didn't make sense on anybody else's version of Earth. (Keep laughing, 900s.)

"I don't there's any bad blood between her and any of them," she said carefully. "You can . . . stop banging your head on the counter now."

Yes, Gabrielle. That made it so much better.

"Just Julius," Scully clarified. "Got it." She took a breath and lifted her head. "This place makes my head hurt. And not because I bang my head." Although it really didn't help. She took a breath. "I hope you'll have a good time, but be careful. Warriors. Armies." Did it even need saying? "Dangerous stuff."

Just Julius. Well, and Pompey and Crassus. But again, she didn't know that yet.

One corner of Gabrielle's mouth quirked up. "I think you just summed up every day of my normal life with Xena."

Who will not be wanting for coffee today, at least?

Oh god, truly insane and messed-up canon catchup incoming . . .

...it's Xena. I think "truly insane and messed-up" is kind of redundant ;)

. . . "truly insane and messed-up" on a scale of X:WP?

YES. Gaaah. *shudders at upcoming plot stuff*

Hey, hey, hey. In my defense it's as much WTF-cracky as WTF-frakked-up.

. . . maybe.

I think it's the way it unwinds over seasons that pushes it to WTF-frakked-up. You know?

...not that I can talk, with my canon.

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Library, Monday (11/1)

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Talk to the Librarian [11/1]

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