fandomhigh | Fandom Library, Wednesday, August 20th

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Fandom Library, Wednesday, August 20th

Twas the last week of classes and all through the room,
The aide was found cleaning, with dustrag and broom.
The books were all shelved with precision and care;
In wait for the new year which soon would be there.
The surfaces were scrubbed, now all sparkly and bright;
The gremlins in timeout for starting a fight.
Whence from the stacks there arose such a clatter,
The aide jumped three feet, yelling, "Yo, what's the matter?"
Suspicious as always, towards the clamor she crept,
Was it perhaps her big brother, falling down as he slept?
Or maybe a bat gotten lost in the sauce,
Or perhaps 'twas a student, or Belle, or her boss!
More noises came, a thump, a SLAM! and a rattle--
Perhaps were some alots locked in battle?
The aide peeped 'round, and saw at 5 feet at most,
None of those things, but a terrible g-g-g-ghost!
She squeaked out a curse, her eyes open wide,
And flew to her desk, away that spectre who'd died!
She turned and she fled, with the ghost right behind;
"Slow down," it moaned, "I'm paying a fine!"
The aide shook her head, and to a halt she did skid,
And turned and looked closely, "Why--you're just a kid!"
"Yes," it wailed, "and I find I can't rest,
"Not until I've paid off, all ten of my debts.
"I loved to read greatly, any book fell to hand,
"The libraries worked constant, to keep up with demand.
"But returning the books? Oh I was quite bad at that,
"And it turns out that heaven is run by stern bureaucrats.
"Who denied me my entrance till I had mended my way,
"Till all books returned and all debts be repaid."
"Goddess this island," the aide said, hand on her chin,
"Bring me your books and I'll check them all in."
The ghost cheered, "Yippee!" and brought her his books,
And waited with breath baited and upon tenterhooks,
To hear the sum total the amount that he owed,
And was shocked to see all the numbers zeroed.
"Wait," cried he, "You mean I owe not a dime?"
"I can move on--you mean it, it's finally time?"
"Sure is," said the aide, "so go with my blessing,
"Well, once you pick up those those books you were messing."
"Too late!" cried the spirit, "Bye now, I'm gone!
"You're on your own now, good luck, bye, so long!"
And the aide watched the soul vanish in bright light and rhymes,
Shook her head then grumbled, "I hate this island sometimes."

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Arden is off reshelving books, apparently.

Unless you're a ghost. Ghosts can just f--err, skip right off.

Gray was going to be so sad to have missed the ghost.

"The dean made me cook," he complained as he slumped into the library.

Did he want to clean up after it?

"I mean, on the scale of horrible things the Dean could do, that seems pretty low...?" Arden offered.

Him, clean? Sounded fake.

"You weren't there," Gray pointed out. "It was chaos." You know, unlike the library had been.

Don't throw something at him.

"I'm sure I can't possibly imagine," she drawled. Glaring slightly.

"Ray managed to turn out something okay," he reported, oblivious to the glare. "Of course. But I didn't get to work with him."

Then he looked around and asked, "What happened in here?"

"A ghost," Arden said, sounding very annoyed at the prospect. "An ungrateful absolute jerk of a ghost."

"Ghosts aren't real," Gray said to the Sylph, which also wasn't a thing in his world, without a hint of irony or self-awareness.

"You should tell that to Professor Vess," Arden said, raising an eyebrow. "Considering a bunch of my Monday notes are about a ghost that lives in a suit of armor in her stop. And then when you're done telling her, come back and inform the spirit of the dead kid that made this whole mess."

"Oh, no thank you, I won't be telling anything to Professor Vess," Gray said.

But she would be so happy to help you murder an angel, Gray!

"In that case, did you wanna tell me what made this mess?" Arden asked. "Since, you know, I'm wrong about what it was that I personally witnessed that you didn't."

Hey Gray. This was a trap.

"I dunno," Gray said with a shrug. "I wasn't here. Gremlins?

"Oh, hey. Are you free to help me and Ray move sometime next week?" Look, a distraction! "His apartment came furnished, so it's not that much stuff." It was, however, a lot of Squishmallows.

He should probably find out what they were doing about furniture for the new place. He assumed 'tell Castor to go wild,' but he hadn't asked.

"Woooow...telling me I didn't see what I know I saw and then asking me for help moving? That's crazy." She tossed the pillow that she kept for him at him. "You're lucky I'm a pushover. Yeah, I'll be there."

"I dunno what day yet," Gray admitted. "Ray has, like, jobs." Good thing Gray didn't have those.

Was that an ominous musical sting?

"Next week is pretty clear for me," Arden said. "Oh. Uh. Except maybe Friday, huh."

"Oh, yeah, it's your birthday!" Gray remembered.

Look, birthdays just weren't that exciting any more when you'd had over a thousand of them and didn't know what the correct date was to boot.

"I think we've talked Castor down from the winery?" Alastair might have had to give him an order.

"A what?" Arden sputters. "Why?"

Gray had to break to her that, "He has the radio app. They all do so they can keep tabs on me. And you guys." But he suspected mostly him. "You said something on there a while back about no one ever gifting you real estate. And. Well. Greed. We kept telling him a winery was inappropriate because of your, uh, alcohol allergy. Intolerance. Thing."

"I was joking!" Arden yelped. "I remembered that it wasn't true and I said I was joking!"

This was even more distressing than the ghost kid.

"Yeah, the sins aren't much on humor," Gray said apologetically. "But he didn't buy the winery." He was pretty sure.

He should probably make sure Castor hadn't hared off in some other real estate gift direction while they were all relieved and relaxed from the end of the 'Don't buy her a winery' war of 2025. You could never let your guard down against a deadly sin.

While he tried to be subtle about taking out his phone to text Cas he asked, "So are you going to have a party? You're gonna have a party, right? Ooooh, maybe at the beach? It's still good weather for it." Gray loved a good beach party. "Raiden was talking about doing a seafood boil or a fish fry or both--probably both--for Labor Day, but that's, like, so far away." A whole weekend from Arden's birthday, totally enough time elapsed for another party!

"Nooooted," Arden said, filing that away to be a lot more careful about her speech in the future. "And I'm not sure where to have it. If it's at the beach, Lydia won't really be comfortable," Arden said. "Maybe karaoke at Caritas? Or do something the Holoscene?"

"Huh?" Gray asked as he texted Castor, Hey what did you get Arden for her birthday DON'T SAY A HOUSE "Regency Girl?" She had a name, Gray. "Why not?" He did not actually care why not, as demonstrated by how swiftly he moved on to, "Karaoke sounds fun. I haven't done that in ages. But it's your birthday, not mine! So. Whatever you wanna do!" Say a NORMAL GIFT

Gray's phone dinged with an incoming message: Okay how are we defining normal?

"I really like karaoke," Arden said. "Though if we do the Holoscene, then we can do karaoke without zombies. Always a plus side."

"Yeah, the zombies are sort of...yeah," Gray had to agree. "So what do you want for your birthday? I already got you something." A miracle of not last minute shopping, friends. "But, you know. For the universe."

And maybe Castor, depending on what was currently on deck from that quarter.

"Oh, uh..." Arden froze slightly. She had unfortunately never heard of anything ever in her life. A noun? Arden didn't know her.

"A new winter coat might be nice? Or...maybe a new outfit for school?" Look, Gray, last year had been the first time celebrating her birthday in a decade. She was a little lost.

"Clothes?" Gray asked dubiously. Clothes were boring. "Sure, we can do that."

He probably could have made that ghost pick up his own mess.

Yo, I don't even know either. Sometimes my brain, man.

It's delightful!

*applause*

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Fandom Library, Wednesday, August 20th

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