[pfsb] silence in the library

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew doesn't check out the Milliways library that often, but there are a few books that a patron left downstairs, and he's volunteered to return them.

The library door's pretty thick; it's designed to be. For better soundproofing.

There's no reason he should hear anything happening inside before he opens the door.

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

"Hang on --"

Andrew tries a different tack, snapping the jacket at the creature like a whip. He misses twice, but the third attempt catches the creature in mid-dive, knocking it across and into the shield's invisible wall.

[semicharmed]

MATT'S HERO.

At least the thing's not currently a) moving or b) stabbing his jeans with its ... whatever creepy weapon that even is.

"Thanks," Matt says, a little wide-eyed. "Um, I'll have to think about getting it out of here; the spell I used leans more on the physical-barrier side than the repelling-negative-influence side, but I might be able to swing it."

[stilljustandrew]

He bends down and gingerly gathers up the little body; it's limp but still breathing, and he's not sure how he feels about that.

"They look sort of like dragonfly wings," he murmurs, half-distracted. "And -- look at that, do those look like tattoos to you or do you think its skin is just patterned naturally?"

[semicharmed]

Matt peers (carefully).

"Huh," he says. "Tough to say ..."

He starts to dig around in the smallish satchel he's carrying over one shoulder, arm twisting awkwardly to get at it. He's going to need a few herbs at least to get this shield powered so it'll boot their little friend.

[stilljustandrew]

One of the wings twitches.

"Uh," says Andrew, and hurriedly winds the sleeve of his jacket around the creature to pin its limbs, in case it wakes up. (But carefully. He doesn't want to hurt it worse if he doesn't have to.)

Outside the shield, the swarm has redoubled its fury.

[semicharmed]

"Oh," Matt says pleasantly, evidently oblivious to the swarm. "Nice move."

He pulls a few plastic bags from his satchel and starts to combine the herbs therein (yarrow, basil) into one.

"This," he continues, "might work better if we touch. I'm gonna amp the shield to repel hostile energies."

[stilljustandrew]

"Okay," he says. "Like, hands, or ...?"

[semicharmed]

"Hands is great," Matt nods, stuffing bags back into his satchel. The combo baggie remains in his hand.

This, he reflects, may be where some of those 'Matt's a drug dealer' rumors came from in high school.

Matt pauses, glancing to the angry cloud of flying little dudes. Then, slowly, he reaches for Andrew's hand.

"After this, I vote we run."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah I'm in favor."

Keeping a grip on the imprisoned (and still unconscious) winged thing with one hand, Andrew puts the other hand out to meet Matt's.

[semicharmed]

The touch does not, Matt is happy to say, result in any awkward magical overshare (not that he thought it would or he'd have warned him). But it does feel nice-- bright, like holding hands under warm sunshine. Matt murmurs something under his breath: Sanskrit, by the sound of it.

And that same feeling of bright sun seems to fill the entire sphere.

The little creature pinned by the sleeve of Andrew's jacket starts to pull away, though it's still unconscious-- as if it's drifting on some tide taking it towards the edge of the shield.

[stilljustandrew]

Hastily he lets go, not sure what would happen if he tried to hang on and not particularly wanting to find out.

(A small part of his mind is occupied with noticing the warmth of Matt's hand. He's mostly ignoring it.)

[semicharmed]

The creature drifts to the edge of the shield and through; on the other side, gravity reasserts itself, and it crumples to the floor.

Matt slides a glance to Andrew. Lets go.

"So," he says. "Run?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Oh frell yeah," he says, with a weak smile.

[semicharmed]

And they're off!! The swarm, unfortunately, is in hot pursuit.

Additional misfortune: The way Matt knows leads out doesn't seem to be actually ... taking them out.

[stilljustandrew]

"Where's the --" door, that's going to be, but it cuts off in a yelp as a dozen or so of the little winged creatures swoop down in front to cut them off.

[semicharmed]

Matt stumbles to a halt.

"I think we should be able to barrel past them," he says hesitantly, aware this doesn't so much address their architectural issue.

[stilljustandrew]

"Okay, yeah, but where are we barrelling to? I mean I think we've lost the exit."

[semicharmed]

"I don't know," he admits with a frown. "I mean ... I don't even know what we're dealing with here."

[stilljustandrew]

"L-space, probably." Resigned. "How long can your shield hold them off?"

[semicharmed]

Matt glances ceilingward like he's trying to remember the capital of Nebraska.

"The way they keep coming at it? Uhh, factoring no food or," pause, "anything ... couple hours, maybe up to six?"

[stilljustandrew]

He gnaws his lip. "So trying to wait them out is not best strategy ... I think we better try and find another way out."

[semicharmed]

Matt nods, as the swarm makes another charge at the shield; he winces upon impact, though at the noise rather than any magical strain.

"Agreed. Though your guess is as good as mine what that way would be."

[stilljustandrew]

"The door was definitely over there, right?" -- waving a hand at the neat, uncommunicative row of bookshelves that's there now.

[semicharmed]

Matt frowns.

"I thought so, anyway."

[stilljustandrew]

"... Let me try something," he says, a bit diffidently, and starts in the direction of the newly appeared bookcases.