fandomhigh | Library [12-8]

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Library [12-8]

Dan didn't know why he braved the stinktastic bog outside the school to come here today. Maybe out of some nerd loyalty. Whatever the reason, he was here and pretending nothing weird was going on because denial was the best medicine. Or something.

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Luckily, the bog outside was enough of a distraction that Angua could hold a conversation with Henry today that wouldn't have her going into an epileptic seizure. She was definitely leaving the clothespin on her nose, though, and would just try to annunciation better.

She figured, though, that if anyone would know or could locate where in this massive places, it would be the librarian, even if he wasn't an orangutan.

"Henry?" she asked, the original of the transcript in her hand after she'd posted the copies she'd made. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's anything on the shelves written by a Sarah Williams, would you?"

"Angua," Henry said, not even offended by the clothespin. It was one of those days. "I know we have the poet. Is that the one you need? Loving the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night?"

He wasn't sure of the relevance, but it was pretty.

Angua felt like she should have had an opinion about the line of what she assumed was poetry, but now was not the time. "I don't know, to be honest," she said, but she held up the transcript. "The one who's interviewed in this. It sounds like she writes movies, and, not only that, but she had a brother who was kidnapped by a goblin king, and there was a labyrinth, and, really, it's a shame no one found this until today because it sounds right up our current alley."

It was never not the time for poetry.

Henry reached for the transcript, eyes skimming over the pages. "Not the poet," he said, if Angua cared. "About 150 years later. The problem is it's a common name, so we probably have dozens of books by people called that. If we can narrow it down to this one ... or find the play she mentions."

He gave the papers back to her. "You're right that this could be very helpful."

Angua couldn't help thinking it was a shame that it wasn't so easy to search for books as it was for people...

She nodded, though. "We could probably get some people searching, anyway. The play should be easier; it should be located somewhere with other plays, right?"

"If her dimension feeds into this one, we have a copy," Henry said, tapping a thumbnail against his lips. "... probably, anyhow. Plays are over in that set of shelves by the window. I can take a look through them."

"Considering her dimension seems to be feeding into ours now," Angua muttered as wryly as one could with a clothespin on her nose, "it would only be fair. Which means the chances are slim, but sometimes, that's all you need..."

"A slim chance around here," Henry observed, "means something probably happened last week. Us having a play is much more likely than us all becoming six years old, and that happened."

Angua snorted a bit at that, and then had to readjust her clothespin.

"You've just made me feel like we've just lost all hope of ever finding something like a play. It's just too normal."

"If we find it, I'm sure there will be a herd of miniature goblins traipsing through my books to keep things nicely balanced," Henry said, almost jaunty. "This is, after all, still Fandom."

Which gave him more hope than anything else. In this place, bad things passed.

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Library [12-8]

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