The Librarian's Office Hours (2-6-06)

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian, who has not been seen in a little over a week, stumbles out of Special Collections looking somewhat war-torn, including a ragged bandage wrapped around his right forarm. Trailing behind him, on a chain leash, is a book, tightly bound with more chain and what appears to be duct tape.

Realizing he doesn't have an office, the Librarian sets up in a corner of the library and, after placing a heavy brick on the bound book, sets out a sign that says, "Office Open."

If one were to pay close attention, they might notice the book perhaps tremble and, occassionally, growl. Regardless of one's book observation skills, the full-grown male orangutan poking the book gleefully with a sharp stick from time to time is very obvious.

He seems quite pleased today.


((OOC: Since its hard for me, as a player, to be around all day to actually run the library open and close posts, except for emergencies, we're going to be starting office hours. If you need to talk about library business, need a favor, need a hard-to-find book, or just want to chat with an orangutan, here's the place to do it. This will be up three times a week - interaction will be slow during the day, and will pick up in the afternoons and (usually) evenings.))

Comments

[chasingangela]

A little nervous, Angela taps on the office door, hoping she can completeher interview for music class.

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian looks up from where he has just violent jabbed the book with his stick, moving it several inches from its original position.

"Oook?"

[chasingangela]

"Mr. Librarian, hello, good to see you again," Angela fumbles. "I'm supposed to interview someone from a different culture about music in their world for music class, and I thought I might talk to you, since you're probably from someplace interesting, and all that. Do you have 15 minutes?"

[OOC: We should be able to get this done by 12:30, and it's not due until Friday. So I think we can play this out.]

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian sits forward, on his haunches and folds his hands on what would have been his desk, if he had one. Since he doesn't, he just holds them in mid-air. He gestures invitingly at the nearby floor.

"Oook."

[chasingangela]

Angela takes a cross-legged seat on the floor, thankful she's wearing jeans. "Okay," she says, wondering how she's going to interview someone who doesn't really talk. Well, she promised Jessica she'd try...

"Um, first, what is music like where you are from, generally? Actually, where are you from?

[OOC: a href="http://community.livejournal.com/fandomhigh/560528.html">This is the class she's interviewing him for. Let me know if you need to know more about what I need.]

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian glances at the chained and bound book next to him, which growls menacingly. He sighs, grabs it and then forces it open, standing on it to prevent unwarrented and, possibly, dangerous movement on its part. There is a picture of a disc-shaped world, with mountains and water cascading off its edge. It is supported on the backs of four elephants, which, in turn, stand on the back of a giant turtle.

The Orangutan points to the picture briefly, holding it long enough for Angela to see, before slamming it shut and rechaining it.

"Oook."

[chasingangela]

"Okay, thank you. It looks interesting," Angela says, politely. She's still a little weirded out by books that growl.

"And what does music sound like, there? Is it .... I don't know. Fast, or slow, or happy, or sad, or -- we heard about this one culture where it's almost all percussion."

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian things for a minute, trying to think of the best way to portray Music with Rocks In. He begins to bang his stick against the floor in a really catchy rhythm and then begins to "Ook" as rockingly as possible for a male orangutan.

After a few minutes he put down the sticks and does his best air guitar, combined with an "Oook" meant to sound like the scream of a steel guitar. He just ends up sounding like he's choked on a banana.

"Ooooooooook"

[chasingangela]

Angela raises an eyebrow at first, but eventually begins taping her foor to the rhythm. But her face beomes concerned as she realizes he sounds like he's choking.

"Are you okay?" she asks, then realizes the sound the Librarian is making is intentional. "Oh, um, thank you for the demonstration. Sounds .... loud. But good."

She glances down at her list of questions. "What type of occasions do people play music on?"

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Orangutan doesn't hesitate, jumping up and beginning to dance. Or, at least he might be dancing, if orangutans dance. The Librarian at least seems to have a rhythm amonst the flailing limbs.

[chasingangela]

"You guys like to dance, huh?" Angela says. "Thanks." She tucks her hair behind her ear, considering the rest of her notes. "Um, do you have a favorite song from Earth culture? Anything that reminds you of home?"

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian grows quiet, remembering home, the pollution, the crime, the wizards and the random explosions at the Alchemists guild. He sighs, somewhat nostalgic and begins to ook softly, the tune of Dirty Deeds, by AC/DC.

[chasingangela]

Angela hums along to the ooks, taking a moment to place the song. "AC/DC? Cool."

She glances down at her notes. "I think this is everything. I mean, unless there's something about music and your culture that I didn't ask and should have."

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian considers this for a moment, trying to find a way to portray a small riot and a burning building, but, after a moment, decides its probably best to overlook that small aspect of Music with Rocks In. He instead shakes his head.

"Oook."

[chasingangela]

"Then thank you, Librarian. I apprecate your time," Angela says, standing to leave.

[theorangeook.livejournal.com]

The Librarian waves to Angela, before moving to quickly grab and yank back the bound book which is trying to make a lunge for here ankles.