intotheout (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fandomhigh2018-07-09 01:03 pm
intotheout) wrote in fandomhigh2018-07-09 01:03 pm
Entry tags:
Library, Monday
There was a ghost in the stacks.
Not the usual Norman kind, either, since Tip could actually hear this one, making little breathy "wooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooo!" moans as it rifled through pages of books. Tip tried to ignore it at first, since she didn't want the ghost deciding it could bug her whenever it wanted to, but it was so quiet in the library otherwise that she couldn't help but focus in on the intermittent wailing, tensing whenever it fell quiet as she waited for it to start up again.
When she finally couldn't take it anymore, she stormed into the stacks, armed with nothing but a protective pet robot and the mighty library-aid shush -- only to find circle of ghost story books hovering in midair, glowing faintly and "woooOOOO"ing at each other. They took no notice of her, but following the ectoplasmic emanations, Tip eventually found a tiny bubbling cauldron one aisle over, manned by a coven of witchcraft manuals.
"It's July," she informed them. "Can't you all at least wait until this kind of stuff is thematic?"
One of the books, a guide to curses, threw a little tiny packet at her. It hit Tip in the stomach and let out a little puff of glowing green powder that smelled, oddly enough, like watermelon.
Tip sighed, rolled her eyes, then gave the books her very best shush before heading back to the circulation desk.
She was not paid enough for this.
[open!]
Not the usual Norman kind, either, since Tip could actually hear this one, making little breathy "wooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooo!" moans as it rifled through pages of books. Tip tried to ignore it at first, since she didn't want the ghost deciding it could bug her whenever it wanted to, but it was so quiet in the library otherwise that she couldn't help but focus in on the intermittent wailing, tensing whenever it fell quiet as she waited for it to start up again.
When she finally couldn't take it anymore, she stormed into the stacks, armed with nothing but a protective pet robot and the mighty library-aid shush -- only to find circle of ghost story books hovering in midair, glowing faintly and "woooOOOO"ing at each other. They took no notice of her, but following the ectoplasmic emanations, Tip eventually found a tiny bubbling cauldron one aisle over, manned by a coven of witchcraft manuals.
"It's July," she informed them. "Can't you all at least wait until this kind of stuff is thematic?"
One of the books, a guide to curses, threw a little tiny packet at her. It hit Tip in the stomach and let out a little puff of glowing green powder that smelled, oddly enough, like watermelon.
Tip sighed, rolled her eyes, then gave the books her very best shush before heading back to the circulation desk.
She was not paid enough for this.
[open!]