h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

*throws the book towards the spot where GL was last seen, hoping it makes it through the invisible barrier*

*walks over to Hyp's librarian's desk and starts searching her drawers*

*finds a small bag and pockets it*

{The library door eases open in a slow incremental swing, as if it were the inhalation of a breath. There's a soft rustle of leather against poplin. A dim shadow insinuates itself through the door frame, sliding furtively along the floor. The hem of a trench coat and an ungloved hand are the first signs someone is actually responsible for the door's movement. Grey hair, metal-rimmed glasses, a triangular nose, and a pensive smirk are all balanced above the collar of a dun-colored knee-length coat. A battered leather satchel hangs from the person's left shoulder, almost--but not quite--holding the unbuttoned and unbelted jacket closed. The vaguely familiar figure steps to the currently unoccupied main desk and rummages with deliberate precision through the items there. His left hand extricates a sticky-note from a pad; his right hand slides in under the coat's lapel and brings out a pen, clicking it to the ready. He hunches over and there's a flurry of scribbling, then a small harrumph. He secrets the writing implement in its original pocket, holds the note against the satchel, and wrests a slim book from within. He holds up the book for a long moment, staring, breathing, considering, with the note poised in his other hand. There's a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, then he affixes the post-it to the cover. With slow deliberation, he slides the book into the center of the desk. No words, no sound this time, as he retraces his path out of the library, pulling his shadow out with him at the very last.}


[ The Note ]
I couldn't
finish it.
You do it.
[-B4-]

{ There's a scintillating swirl of light upon the wall where a door used to be. Sparkles and streamers of various hues jaunt around the shape of the not-quite-a-door. The shape itself extrudes at various points from the wall, as if someone or some thing is pushing it outward, into the room. There's a resounding THUD and the streaming panoply of lights bulges out to the length of railroad tie, and approximately the girth. A second THUD reverberates as another geyser of swirling lights pushes into the Library space. Simultaneously with a third THUD, the flowing and coalescing star-scape of the not-quite-a-door shatters, and thousands of sparks spray across the floor, up onto the ceiling, carom off the stacks, and bounce off the Main Desk. Seemingly, the sparks are non-incendiary, since nothing catches aflame; every last flashing pebble winks out after its initial impact. There is smoke, or a mist, or some other occlusion that partially obscures a Very LARGE shadow that seems to have passed through the wall to standing swaying in the room, hunched in such it way its head just misses the ceiling. It is long moments before the ethereal fog dissipates...then it becomes clear there's A very LARGE Induhvidual occupying much-too-much of the Library's free space. }


Oh... Pawdon me... Is this... where I started? I seem to recall this place...
{ LARGE stretches forth his hand and sweeps it in a wide arc. }
...before I shrank and disappeared into the Rift.

What time is it?
{ He shakes is head, perhaps attempting to get the cobwebs out. }
Better yet, what ~year~ is it?

{ He stands, unsteady, then his LARGE eyes squint down in concentration. He steps over to the Main Desk and peers down (from a great height) at the Calendar. }

Good-gawd-a-Crikeys! This cannot be... Seventeen years? Seventeen YEARS!?
{ His shoulders droop and he shuffles his boat-sized feet. Breathing in a sigh of resignation, he raises himself up as high as the room's ceiling allows without bumping his noggin, brushes himself down, and walks toward the door leading out to the Atelier proper. }

Right then... Let's see if the Mawnagement is still the same and if they've saved my position as Concessionaire and Master-at-Arms...