fandomhigh | Library, Thursday 4/25

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Library, Thursday 4/25

The library itself had gotten a bit creative, it seemed.

The furniture was arranged in such a way that it was making it very difficult to enter and exit.

The How-To books on creative matters were hotels together in a corner.

And the gremlins had some art supplies that Belle had some concerns about given recent events.

"I don't suppose you feel like being helpful?" Belle asked the library as a whole. "I'm sure everyone would appreciate it."

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She's here and not currently being menaced by any creations come to life!

If that's how you want to roll

If he's here

I didn't think "don't block the doors" was a complicated instruction. AND YET.

Margo brusquely burst into the library not too late into the day.

Her hair was a mess. There was something that looked an awful lot like decorative glitter puke in her hair.

She could be heard to mutter, "Fuck this island," as she dove into the stacks.

Jon was used to poorly organized rooms. And research. And since the Eye wasn't being particularly helpful, he was here for the latter and dealing with the former.

He did have the sense that history might be useful, so he was heading for the section where Fandom history was kept, starting with just before he arrived here and paging through everything he could.

He was almost disturbingly in his element.

He was here! He'd even removed his coffee maker from his office, and set it up on a table in the main study area.

Never say he didn't do things for his fellow man.

Lore and research was mostly Sam's thing. But everything today and yesterday was too weird for words.

So exhausting his usual sources for information, he decided to dig into some of the local sources.

"Language," Dean mocked scolded and then tossed a photo in front of Margo.

"This weird book kept following me around and spat this out at me," Dean replied. "From what I can tell it's from around 1830."

The photo depicts a strange pile of items, including a small rocket toy and a stack of blocks, that seem ragged around the edges - as if they’d been drawn in crayon. The back of the photograph reads, fictional evil defeated by capturing the soul in reality’s light. The corner of the photograph is lightly singed.

"This match up with anything?"

Margo leaned over and looked at it, frowning.

"... Wasn't there some kind of mural that came to life here the other day?" she said. "And my f--" Airhorn. Metaphorically. "--ing doodles tried to bite me this morning. Text on the back is vague as hell, though."

"Probably the one Sabine was doing on Wellspring," Dean noted. "My french fries haven't come back to bite me but they were mostly charcoal by the time I was done with them. Doodles and murals and the words fictional evil. Is this something about creativity? A few years ago my brother and I went up against a Greek museum of poetry. She was waiting for this theater geek to put on a musical and then eat her when it was done. Maybe there's something out there that's similar."

"Like something's trying to bleed us for creative shit so it can eat us after?" Margo said. "... Ugh. Gross."

"Not the first time I've seen something like this," Dean said with a shrug. "And I've heard of nastier things. What about you? Find anything?"

"Nothing yet besides a clear f--" Ishing? Surely fishing. "--reminder not to be on this island during exam week. Ever. You don't want to know the kind of shit this place gets into."

"Exam week? That's what when this stuff happens?" Dean asked. "Well that's good to know. I'll make sure I'm gone during the fall semester exams."

At some point the library did decide to be helpful and a file of old papers and assorted items from 1830 ended up in the desk in front of Belle.

She was sure it hadn't been there a moment before. But it was here now and it seemed worth looking through.

Some of it was nonsense. There was a newspaper clipping about some banal activities, some advertisements for things Belle had never heard of, and a note with an alarming number of exclamation points.

"DO NOT ANNOTATE ANYTHING!!!," Belle read aloud. "NO FLOWERY LANGUAGE!!! NO DRAWINGS!!! MAINTAIN ARTISTIC SILENCE!!!"

"Well," she said, walking over to where the others were. "That is an alarming amount of exclamation points for such a small note."

"Perhaps it was written by a pre-teen," Jon offered. He read it and sighed. "Wonderful. Let's hope whatever we find is simple and won't need real research. Otherwise the lack of annotation will be a problem."

Jon would have preferred tea, but when you just needed caffeine, coffee would do.

He made a new pot and nodded to Constantine.

Jon winced sympathetically at the glitter. "Hello, Margo. I was..." He sighed. "I'm looking through logs of past mayors for help. I wonder if you might check this book for any terrible magic before I open it. I brought coffee."

He held out a cup. And the promised book.

"If you need proper tea later, kettle's in my office," John offered. "I'm shamed to say it hasn't gotten much use lately and might need a dusting -- I'm turning American with the coffee."

"Thank you," Jon said. "I may take you up on that. For now, though, I'll go with the caffeine. I don't suppose you know if anything useful has been found yet."

"Not that I know," Constantine sighed. "But there's been no real problems in the library so far, so whatever is going on out there hasn't gotten a foothold in here yet."

"With all the books here, that is likely a very good thing." Jon shuddered to think. "Well, I'll get started with the historical documents. At least that's something I've got experience with."

"I certainly never wrote like that," Belle said extremely untruthfully.

"Does it mean anything of use though? Nothing else in here seems to useful unless we're looking for advertisements for medicines from 200 years ago."

Margo made a sort of... grumbly noise, but she took the cup. And the book.

"You better bring me offerings," she muttered. More as a confirmation offerings had been received than anything else.

She worked her fingers into a scrying window and peeked at the book. Made a few more hand motions. Sensing evil shit wasn't exactly her major here, but she could do a little.

"Seems fine," she said gruffly, offering it back.

Jon wouldn't dream of approaching Margo without offerings!

"Thank you." Jon breathed a sigh of relief. "I have poor experiences with someone of this name. Particularly when I'm drawn to read books."

He carefully flipped it open, relaxing just a touch when it didn't have a Leitner bookplate or immediately eat him (or start bleeding, or smoking, or anything else). He went straight to the portion that seemed to be calling him.

"March 13th, 1952." He paused and looked away, to make certain he could, then looked around to make sure there were no undue effects so far. He nodded and went back to reading. "'The strangest and most disconcerting event, concerning the written word; we shall not write in further detail, lest we summon the embodiment of our words anew.' Hm. Understandable, but regrettably vague."

"I'm still looking," Jon said. "Nothing so far. All we can do is keep going."

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Library, Thursday 4/25

Talk to Belle

Mod your library experience

Talk to the Librarian

OOC

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Talk to the Librarian

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Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Talk to the Librarian

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Talk to the Librarian

Re: Talk to the Librarian

Re: Talk to the Librarian

Re: Talk to the Librarian

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Mod your library experience

Re: Mod your library experience