fandomhigh | Library, [05/01]

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Library, [05/01]

Well, this was it. Jonothon's last weekend on the island, his last shift in the library, dutifully pretending that whatever was going on outside was more or less sane.

Which would be going so very well for him, if it wasn't for the way the books had gotten it into their heads (or whatever) to attempt to imitate the Viking-related shenanigans that seemed to be the weekend's running theme, ever since their appearance at graduation.

Jonothon had wrestled to keep the books shelved for a while, before simply giving up, rolling his eyes, and making himself comfortable at his desk with his feet up, playing Ride of the Valkyries on Youtube to keep the hardcover raiders satisfied as they plundered and pillaged the various sections of the library.

If you can't beat them...

The library is open!

[And OCD freeee because I'm feeling lazy today. Hi!]

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//Th'books insisted,// Jono replied, noting to himself that he was going to miss the days when he could say things like that without looking entirely insane. //They were in th'mood for something... Norse. A German composition about Nordic myth was about th'best that I could do.//

Really. He'd tried.

//What brings you to th'library today, luv?//

"The books talk to you?" George asked.

Why was she still surprised by things like that? It was Fandom.

"So, I, uh." She fidgeted. "You know? I heard that people graduating? They don't have to leave right away. I mean, they can stay all summer, if they feel like it."

Just in case he didn't know that. No reason.

//Really, now? They can do that?// Oh, break Jonothon's heart a little more, George. He already knew where this conversation was headed. //You know... I would love to, Sunshine. But there are responsibilities...//

"Oh, right," George covered, with marginal success. "I mean, you know. You have places to go, it's cool, I was just ... letting you know."

Being dead ought to come with super powers. She'd take being a better liar.

//Well... I appreciate you making certain, then,// Jono replied, reaching for a pen and fidgeting with it for a moment before tearing off a sticky note and scribbling something on it. //Do you understand why I'm heading back so soon, George?//

"I ... don't know," she shrugged. "I mean, you don't have to ... justify it to me. Do you want some kind of a ... I dunno. Going-away party?"

Right. Jono was exactly the kind of social butterfly who would love that kind of thing.

//... I already have a ridiculous crown and a diploma, and I nearly had me head carved off by a viking yesterday in order to get it,// Jono noted. //I think I've done about all of th'partying that I can handle, luv.//

Really, he was all partied out.

//... That said, I wouldn't mind spending some time with you before I take off. I'll probably be about for a couple more days, anyhow. I have packing t'do.//

Not as much as he would have needed to do a month ago. Curse his older self for being tidy.

"I like your crown," she said, offering him a quick smile. "I would have voted for you, but I ... kind of ... forgot to vote."

Sorry?

"I can help with the packing," she said. Which, considering her massive laziness, was a grand gesture on her part.

Really, Jono would have made sad, sad faces if he'd known that George had voted for him. It was better this way.

//Would you? I mean... I know it's a bit of a disaster in there. Not as bad as it was, and I'll probably have to leave some of it behind. What th'hell possessed me to buy three guitars since coming here, anyhow?//

Right. One was a Stratocaster. Another was an acoustic, bought out of spite when the Stratocaster had come to life. And the other had been an ESP that was too damn pretty to say no to.

"Hey, half of that shit is mine," she said. She didn't own nearly as much random crap as he did, but she was not exactly domestic enough to ... well. Clean. Like, ever. And any of the food mess was, by default, hers.

"Do different guitars ... sound different?" she asked. "Or were they just pretty?"

//Some sound different,// Jono replied. //Th'shape of them, what they're made of... And there's the obvious difference between acoustic and electric.//

He didn't use his acoustic often, unless he wanted something that he didn't have to haul amps around for.

//... And they were pretty.//

"Some things people just like to collect," George said with a shrug. "There's nothing wrong with that. It's what people do. You ... collect things and surround yourself with them and they make you feel like you're home."

//Even if there really isn't one, anymore,// Jono agreed, his voice dropping a little.

The things that George understood... He'd miss her more than most of the people around here.

//Look... There are a lot of things that I won't be able to carry back with me, at any rate. Running th'music shop was excellent for, say, a collector with a way to move all of his things to a permanent location later, but not so great for, say, a nineteen year-old away at boarding school.//

"You could get storage," George suggested. "They have to have something on the mainland. Or you could ... throw some of it away, but that's kind of ... that goes against the whole collecting angle."

//Th'folks on th'mainland don't really get along with my type, luv.//

The mutant sort, or the sort that technically didn't exist in this reality. Pick one.

//I was thinking of... maybe just leaving them behind. For somebody else to appreciate.//

"... You ... mean me?" she asked. "Because I'd ... I'd love to have some of your stuff. And you could have some of it back later, if you got to a stable kind of place where you could take it."

There was a sheepish sort of pause.

"But if you didn't mean me, that's totally fine and I don't need anything or whatever."

Oh, George. Your little addendum there was abso-bloody-lutely adorable. It actually got a bit of a smile out of Jonothon, and an amused shake of his head.

//Yes, George. I meant you. I've only got as many arms as I can borrow from Ange and Lee when they leave, and my own. If I can shunt some of my things with them, that takes care of... th'guitars, at least. But I'll have my own arms full with Joni, and so...//

He shrugged. Music, George? Could you handle... an obscene amount of music? Mostly in vinyl?

"So ... that leaves, what," George said, frowning as she reasoned it out.

Wait.

"Holy shit," she gasped. "The music? You're leaving your music?"

SHE WOULD TAKE VERY GOOD CARE OF IT. SHE PROMISED.

//I know, I know. But music can be replaced,// Jono reasoned, shrugging his shoulders a little. //I still live in the era of music videos on MTV, you know. And... fine, so a lot of it doesn't technically exist yet, but... I can be patient.//

Which was a yes, George. Yes, he was leaving you his music.

All, what, fifteen, twenty boxes of it? How did they fit it all in that room, anyhow?

"Do they have mp3 players?" George asked. "The sound quality isn't so great as vinyl or anything, but ... takes up less room."

Of course she was a snob about vinyl.

//Mp3 players? In '95?// A beat. //Right, '96 by now. But still, I think I have a bit more waiting to do, George.//

He sounded sad about that, yes.

//Takes up far less room, but if anything happens to it... Well, I would hate to be th'one to mess up the entire evolution of music as we know it because I took an iPod in for repairs before Apple even thought to get into the portable audio business.//

"I was pirating mp3s back in high school," George offered. "So it shouldn't be that long a wait, should it?"

A few years, at most. She hoped.

"I don't remember when iPods came out, though."

'Back in high school' was such an odd phrase, coming from somebody who still had a while left to go before she would graduate from it.

//Five more years,// Jono replied, shrugging. //I looked into it. It is a neat little toy, really. But you can't load a record onto one, so I'll cope without.//

"So ... I'll make you mix tapes," George said, with a rare smile. "They're a lost art anyway. You can get a Walkman, keep it in your coat pocket."

//So much more convenient than CDs anyway,// Jono replied, with a smile to match.

More or less to match, anyhow.

//Less skipping.//

And also, the whole, 'George took the time to make me a mix tape' thing. Which actually meant something. That was nice.

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Library, [05/01]

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