EP

[not_the_second]

Mr Segundus has noticed a curious phenomenon.

Despite the fact that he spends the vast majority of his time at Milliways in the library, making use of the remarkable collection of books of magic, every time he returns to England, he cannot quite recall anything that he read.

He tried, therefore, to sneak a book away with him-- but somehow, every time he tried, he would find he had left the book back in the library, or in his room, despite all his efforts to remember to bring it with him.

So he tried making notes. But that, it seems, did not work either, for here he stands, frowning at a little packet of handwritten pages that appeared on the Bar as soon as he entered. So that's where he left them.

Comments

[not_his_pa]

"Sir, you well?" William was reading but the man looks so lost as he stares at his papers, he worries.

[not_the_second]

"Oh--" Segundus looks up, surprised at being address. "Yes, thank you. Only-- only considering another of the many strange features of this place!"

[not_his_pa]

"What's Milliways done now? I hope nothin' too awful," Its always doing something kind of odd.

[not_the_second]

"No, no, not at all," Segundus replies. "Only that-- I thought I had brought these notes home with me, yet here they are."

[not_his_pa]

"I've never had that happen before. I mean some books from here I don't take home cause there'd be too many questions but never had one not come with me. What sort of stuff are you takin' notes on, sir?"

He looks well dressed and like some sort of scholar.

[not_the_second]

He would be pleased to hear that William thinks so-- for if he does look well-dressed, it is only from far away. Up close, the frayed sleeves, the shiny elbows, the turned hems become rather more evident.

"I study magic."

[not_his_pa]

His clothes are still good and William understands wearing until they fall apart, that's what he does, "Magic, are you a wizard?"

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

There's someone standing behind the bar, digging out some bottles from the back and dusting them off. He pauses in his work when Segundus collects the papers, and gives them a little nod. "Good news? Bad?"

[not_the_second]

"Curious, if it may be called news at all," Segundus replies, and then looks up from his papers. "They are my own notes, you see, and I would have sworn-- truly sworn!-- that they were in my pocket when I left this place last. But here they are, and I must have set them down without thinking of it."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Ahhhh," he says, with a sound of profound agreement. (Agreement with what, exactly?) "Important, were they? Something you'd have liked very much to take home with you?"

[not_the_second]

Segundus cannot quite bring himself to call them important-- his own idle notes and studies!-- but he says, "I would have liked them very much indeed, yes. Such books here! The like cannot be had in England, even in the collections of the wealthiest and most powerful men." Or so he assumes, anyway.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

The man behind the bar seems to have taken upon himself the role of bartender, though there's no Happy Hour sign; he nods again with a look of melancholy sympathy and begins to pour Segundus a glass of brandy. "Milliways did that to me once. A memorandum-book full of notes, sheaves of papers, and a head full of memories, all lost as I stepped through the door."

[not_the_second]

"Yes, yes!" Segundus agrees, eagerly pressing closer to the bar. "That is precisely what happens! I hope it was a matter of no extreme importance, in your case, sir?"

[yinyangwizard]

"Did you misplace some of your notes?" This comes from a man a little further down the Bar. He appears to be from somewhere in the Orient, but he wears what appears to be a Western outfit of jacket, trousers, and button-down shirt (although it's a twenty-first century ensemble). He is holding, between the fingers of one hand, a half-smoked cigar. Mr. Segundus may or may not have encountered a cigar before: they won't really catch on in England until the early 1820s.

"I hate when that happens." Seimei used to lose notes for years at a time.

[not_the_second]

"No-- well, yes, I suppose I did," Segundus replies. "But here they are."

[yinyangwizard]

Seimei thought that the Englishman had left his notes with the Bar intentionally, but retrieved them only to find that a couple of pages had gone missing. It seems this was not the case.

"Perhaps someone found them where you left them, and gave them to the Bar for safekeeping?"

[not_the_second]

"Yes, I suppose that may be!" Segundus replies. "But I was so certain I had them with me. Well! I suppose if we knew at once we had mislaid something, they would not be lost at all!"

[yinyangwizard]

"Indeed not." Seimei puffs thoughtfully on his cigar for a moment. "Forgive me if this seems like an impertinent question, sir, but has this sort of thing happened to you before?"

It could just be absent-mindedness, but Seimei has a peculiar feeling that it isn't. And one does not become a successful diviner by ignoring such peculiar feelings.

[not_the_second]

"Well..." Segundus folds up the packet of notes and shoves it into his coat pocket. "I find I cannot manage to bring any books from here to my own country. And it seems the same is true even of these notes."

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre, in the Bar for a sandwich to accompany his third cup of coffee of the day, stops short next to the man staring at the handwritten notes. Combeferre knows that look's been on his own face before, and the man is dressed not dissimilar to how Combeferre used to dress every day. (Little by little he's shed some of the outerwear, so that now he's appearing out of his room with no waistcoat, cravat, or coat, and feeling very comfortable, though slightly indecent.)

"Good day," says Combeferre, with a half-smile. "Here to puzzle out your notes?"

[not_the_second]

Segundus looks up, slightly startled. "Oh! Good day, sir. That has often been the case! But these I wrote with great care-- only to leave them behind here when I returned home. Though I confess I do not quite remember doing so."

[wings_of_a_swan]

"Hmmmm." Perhaps this man is merely absent-minded, or perhaps--

"My name is Combeferre," he says. As if idly, he adds, "Has this happened to you before?"

[not_the_second]

"Segundus," he replies. "And not precisely like this. I tried to take a book back with me to England--" He looks a little sheepish. "--to see if I could! I would have returned it-- but I could not seem to remember to take it with me."

[wings_of_a_swan]

"A friend of mine tried to return to our world with helpful information from Milliways. But...he couldn't seem to bring very much with him, either."

On the other hand, their bedaemoned counterparts seemed to have no trouble going to and fro with information..."I've known others to be more successful, but even so, sir, it may be some dubious comfort for you to consider that this may not be natural forgetfulness on your part."

[not_the_second]

Segundus smiles. "Yes, some! And perhaps I may consider it a thoughtful gesture on Madam Bar's part, to spare me questions back home I would not know the way to answer."