Library, Saturday, October 2nd

[talentforlying]

John had finally -- finally -- realized he was out of minions. So here he was in the library, on a Saturday, digging around in his office for the hiring sign.

Look, usually he came in in the morning, unlocked the library door, and then went to his office to get research done. APPARENTLY the books had been reshelving themselves, so he hadn't noticed that no one had been coming in to work the desk.

The circulation desk had a bell on it, with a 'Ring Me for Help' sign, while John was in his office, trying to find all the paperwork and shit to get new minions.

At least this meant Shellstrop wasn't going to be stealing his booze anymore.


[OOC: Open library, OCD freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.]

Comments

[existencemisspent]

"Bambi?" Eliot asked, sounding small. "Where's my Bambi?"

The innocent tone was a fine contrast to all the blood covering him.

[talentforlying]

What the ever loving fuck was going on today? One ghost breezing through for a weekend wasn't unusual. Two? Was.

"Haven't seen any animated deer around here, sunshine," he said dryly, eyeing the blood. "What slaughterhouse spat you out again?"

[existencemisspent]

Eliot's voice deepened into a growl and he grabbed for Constantine's collar.

"Where's my Bambi?"

[talentforlying]

Constantine side-stepped that easily enough. "Probably on your face, squire," he said evenly. "You seem like you're having a shitty afterlife, but watch those hands of yours. My dates need to buy me dinner before I let them get physical."

The last part was absolutely a lie.

He loosened his tie a bit more, and Eliot might be able to see some of the edges of John's tattoos peeking out. "Now, we play nicely in my library. You want to spook, go ahead. You want to pass on, just say so. But no getting rough with the living."

[existencemisspent]

Eliot looked at his hands, which started to shake.

"I screwed it up I screwed it up I screwed it up. . . ."

The lights flickered, and he vanished again, his babble lingering to echo through the stacks.

"I screwed it up I screwed it up. . . ."

[talentforlying]

"Fucking hell."

John made his way over to the circulation desk, digging around for a moment before finding the drawer with the arts and crafts supplies.

A few moments later, there was a sign on the door to the library;

Library's haunted today.
Proceed at own risk.

What? Two confused ghosts weren't enough to close anything on this gods' forsaken island.