Library, Wednesday [3/23]
Gabrielle's propensity for seasickness wasn't normally an issue at work; you wouldn't think it would be. Still, the all-too-familiar nausea hit her as soon as she'd finished her morning tasks around the library and gone to settle behind the desk with her scrolls, and she ended up clutching at the edge of the desk and looking as green as half her wardrobe for a few minutes.
Once she'd gotten a hold of herself enough to remember the pressure-point techniques that helped quell the queasiness, she took a look around and got a good guess at the likely cause of the whole bizarre thing: off to one side of the desk, bobbing lightly on the floor as if they were adrift on the waves, were a dozen or more books. A few minutes of lightheaded skimming revealed the common theme at play -- every one of those books had to do with someone getting stranded at sea and getting swallowed by a whale.
"Oh, I see," Gabrielle told the books weakly, swaying a bit on her legs as she got up to round them all up and take them back to the shelves. "Ha. You think you're funny, do you? Well, I've got news for you. It's not very -- urgh -- hilarious at all . . ."
She just hoped those books didn't decide to come drifting back repeatedly during the day, or it was going to be a miserable shift. Thank the gods there wasn't any sort of questionable food within reach, because that pressure-point technique had the unfortunate side effect of killing her taste buds, and she did not need a repeat of the disgusting raw-squid incident.
Once she'd gotten a hold of herself enough to remember the pressure-point techniques that helped quell the queasiness, she took a look around and got a good guess at the likely cause of the whole bizarre thing: off to one side of the desk, bobbing lightly on the floor as if they were adrift on the waves, were a dozen or more books. A few minutes of lightheaded skimming revealed the common theme at play -- every one of those books had to do with someone getting stranded at sea and getting swallowed by a whale.
"Oh, I see," Gabrielle told the books weakly, swaying a bit on her legs as she got up to round them all up and take them back to the shelves. "Ha. You think you're funny, do you? Well, I've got news for you. It's not very -- urgh -- hilarious at all . . ."
She just hoped those books didn't decide to come drifting back repeatedly during the day, or it was going to be a miserable shift. Thank the gods there wasn't any sort of questionable food within reach, because that pressure-point technique had the unfortunate side effect of killing her taste buds, and she did not need a repeat of the disgusting raw-squid incident.