[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]

"I don't know if I like those odds," he says, "but ..."

A pause. He looks around.

"This isn't another dead end," he says slowly. "This is the same dead end."

[semicharmed]

"What?"

[stilljustandrew]

"It's the same dead end we were in before, it's, I recognize these books --"

He's running fingers over the spines of the books at eye level, leaning in close to peer at the titles.

"If the library's really trying to help us, maybe one of these -- can you read and hold the shield at the same time?"

[semicharmed]

Matt regards Andrew, then the books, with a serious attention.

"Yeah," he says.

"I mean, I couldn't proofread or anything, but just reading--"

He steps closer to the shelf and starts scanning for a likely-looking spine.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew crouches, meanwhile, scanning along a lower shelf simultaneously.

A heavy volume with the single word FAERIE printed on its spine in gilded letters catches his attention; he tugs it out, with some effort, and lets it fall open on his lap.

[semicharmed]

Matt has a book in hand, with a third of his attention (approximately) on it, and the rest divided in negotiable percentages between maintaining the shield through the current onslaught and minding his energy levels.

(So far: good. But he's not sure how long that'll last.)

When he realizes his book is full of recipes that primarily involve unicorn meat, he nearly throws it back onto its spot on the shelf. That's just not right.

[stilljustandrew]

Kelpies -- no. Hobyahs -- no. Greenteeth -- no. Piskies --

Andrew's eyes widen, and he looks up from the illustration at the swarm outside the shield.

[semicharmed]

It's not that Matt is watching Andrew, or exceptionally attuned to his body language or anything, but he does notice the shift in his posture. Maybe it comes with the sex mage territory. Don't worry about it.

"Find something?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I think so --" He hefts the book up, carefully holding the place. "Does that drawing look like those little guys to you?"

[semicharmed]

Matt ducks down, blinking at the image.

Then he slides a glance to the horde attacking their shield.

"... It's kind of an uncanny likeness."

[stilljustandrew]

"Okay, we're on to something --"

He leans in, frowning hard at the page. "Okay, description, yes, natural habitat, diet, habits ... oh grife, seriously?, ugh ... come on, get to the part about how to get rid of them --"

[semicharmed]

"Please don't tell me the diet or habits part," Matt decides.

[stilljustandrew]

"Wait, got it! They flee from domestick cats," Andrew reads aloud, "iron bells, and the sound of the cock-crow."

He looks up, satisfaction slowly melting into dismay on his face.

"Which ... we don't have any of those things."

[semicharmed]

"Nnnno," Matt admits, casting a glance back to the shelf in case any bells, roosters, or cooperative cats have decided to show up.

He pats down his bag, then his pockets, and--

Hey.

"Although we do have phones."

[stilljustandrew]

"..."

Andrew blinks at him, waiting for the part where that helps.

[semicharmed]

Matt fishes his phone from his pocket and starts fumbling for a search engine.

"I don't know about yours, but mine could-- maybe--"

(Okay, and let's not forget to keep this shield strong while we're having revelations.)

"Play a cock-crow sound."

[stilljustandrew]

"-- wait, really?"

Oh man YOUR PHONE MAY BE ABOUT TO SAVE OUR LIVES, Matt.

"I don't think mine can, but --"

[semicharmed]

Matt nods, and realizes quickly that the strain on his attention is a) not ideal and b) not necessary.

"Uh," he says, and holds his phone out to Andrew, "actually, could you do the search? It's not physical keys, you just swipe."

[stilljustandrew]

"Sure," he says, "absolutely --"

-- and realizes, on taking the phone, that (a) it's a hell of a lot more advanced than his own smartphone, and (b) his assumptions about how the swiping and selecting should work are entirely wrong.

"What's your phone's OS?"

[semicharmed]

"Uhhh," Matt says, watching the apparently-piskies continue their assault, "it's a Merc*?"


*Research informs the mun that this is the actual brand name Jo and Merc gave Matt's laptop, so ...

[stilljustandrew]

A blank pause.

"Sometime when we're not in danger of getting torn apart by piskies," he says, "I should ask you more about your world's tech...."

In the meantime, he's managing to figure out the scrolling, at least.

[semicharmed]

"I'm still in favor of this alcohol and ice cream plan," Matt notes. "You're on."

The shield is still holding up okay, but at this point it's a relief to have someone else running the search. The sharp scraping noises of metal blades against bright are starting to give him a psychic headache.

[stilljustandrew]

"Okay okay I think -- " He squints at the screen. "This one called cockadoodledoo, is it what it sounds like?"

[semicharmed]

"Odds seem high," Matt says, in a tone that may be slightly delirious with hope.

He hopes that's hope, anyway.

[stilljustandrew]

The interface can't be that different, right?

Andrew stabs one finger at the filename, and hopes.

The phone emits the unmistakable sound of a rooster crowing -- and all the little winged creatures freeze, staring at it in horror.