Work Text:
"... Hello."
The Pippins jumped, then turned around. The woman standing behind him was about a head taller than him, wearing pale blue overalls over a white shirt—he could make out purple trims on the sleeves and collar. She looked human, but strangely, her head resembled a large die, with the "2" side facing outward.
"HOLY—Who the HELL are you? Why are you in here?! Get OUT!!"
The woman looked unamused, if a dice head could look that way. "George. I'm not sure either. I think, maybe I'm dreaming? I was working for a pretty long while."
"That doesn't MATTER! This is a private room! Get OUT of—" He paused suddenly, thought for a second, then looked down, prodding his arm. "... Actually, I can't tell if I'm dreaming or hallucinating, either. I think I've been awake for a couple hours. Couple dozen hours. Couple days."
"It's probably not my place to say this, but that doesn't seem very healthy, kid."
"Who're you callin' a—WHY are you here, again?"
George shrugged. "You think I know?! Last I remember, I was working on a manuscript about... it was the theoreticals of interdimensional something or another. MONSTER of a manuscript."
She rubbed at where her temples would be if she had any.
"ANYWAY. I'm just here now. I don't remember what happened."
The Pippins balked. "That doesn't make ANY sense."
"I KNOW. What do you want me to do, make it make sense? I'm too tired for that. Sorry."
He turned back to the corkboard, too tired to spare the situation any more thought. "Just... door's behind you. Close it on your way out. You'll find your way back, probably."
When he turned around, she was gone.
"Hi...?"
The Pippins was startled, but turned around to see a familiar face: overalls, dice face, but three dots instead of two.
"... Good evening. George, was it?"
"Um... yeah. And you?"
"Well, uh." He wasn't quite sure what to say here, realizing that nobody ever really asked for his name. To most, he was just the green Pippins. "Mike, I guess."
"Mike... okay." The pips on her face closed briefly, as if blinking. "Sorry to ask, but... where am I? And... how did I get here?" She looked around, before speaking quietly to herself. "I KNEW I shouldn't've worked late today..."
"You're in Mike's office," he said. "My room," he corrected. "And I have NO clue how you got here."
He remembered something from the other day.
"What were you doing before you got here?"
"Oh, well..." She thought a bit. "It was pretty late... I was editing something, and the manuscript was especially long so I decided I'd just try to get as much work done as possible before I slept but oh I'm not sure what happened next I think my head went sort of fuzzy and then I... was here. I think I blacked out for a bit."
"... Weird." He made a mental note to look into... what was it? Interdimensional something or another. Not very helpful.
"I guess I'm just... here now... I'm not sure what to do..."
He turned back to the corkboard, head now buzzing with thoughts. "Uh... exit's behind you. You'll probably find a way back."
When he turned around, she was gone.
"Um, excuse me!"
The Pippins turned. This was still unusual, but he wasn't at all surprised to see George again. He glanced up at her face, adorned with five dots.
"Hey, George. What're you doin' here?" He suspected he knew what the answer would be, but he asked anyway.
She held one hand up to the side of her face. "Oh, well... that's the funny thing. I'm not exactly sure. One moment I was in the back room of the Library, and the next..." She gestured at herself and the space around her.
"Okay. Okay. This is weird." The Pippins began pacing back and forth. "What were you doing before this?"
"Before I appeared here? I was editing a manuscript. I admit, it was a bit past the time I usually sleep, but... this was a BIG one! I thought I'd just give it a liiiiittle more work before I went to bed."
The Pippins nodded along.
"And then... ah, maybe I fell asleep, and I'm just dreaming right now. It's not usually a great idea for me to stay up too late. But... I don't remember anything from right before I got here."
"This is... extremely strange." He stopped his pacing, a hand at his chin. "This might be a weird question, but... do you have ANY recollection of me?"
"I... can't say I do, unfortunately. To be honest, I rarely leave my room." She laughed softly.
He turned back to the corkboard. "Um... alright." The situation was getting stranger, and he didn't know how to puzzle it out. "You can leave now. Door's behind you. You'll get home, uh... I think."
"Much thanks, dearie!" The sweetness was audible in her voice. "Oh! Would you like me to tidy up a bit for you before I leave?"
"Uh, I'm good."
The door clicked quietly as George closed it.
When he turned around, she was gone.
"Hello!"
The Pippins turned at the familiar voice. George. Four dots, all somehow conveying a friendly smile.
"George." She nodded back. "I'm, uh... Mike."
"Mike! Hello!" She looked around, hands clasped politely behind her back. "Nice room you've got here! Very... eclectic."
"Thanks, I guess." He walked over to a desk to pull out a folder, leafing through the pages within. "God, I should've worked on this thing more... do you have somewhere to be?"
"Other than in bed? Nope! I do wanna get a good six or seven hours tonight, though..."
"Mm." A pointed finger lead his gaze as he skimmed something. "Could you briefly summarize what you were doing before you got here?"
"Oh! The usual. I was just making corrections on a manuscript before I went to bed. And then... gosh, I don't remember. I just appeared here, somehow." She shifted her weight on her feet.
"Right. Okay. Your name is George, correct?"
"Mm-hmm!"
"Do you have any recollection of this place? Or me?"
"Unfortunately not, no. This is all new to me!"
"Okay. That's what I thought." He noted something down. "Uh... where are YOU from? What do you do, usually?"
She puffed up slightly, looking proud. "I'm the head librarian in the Refuge! I do, well, library administration, but I'm usually in the back room editing manuscripts. I have a LOT to go through, so I'm in there night and day, basically."
"Refuge?"
"Yeah! Center of the world, big Tower?"
"... Riiight. Mm." He paused. "Speak on that?"
"Sure! Are you, uh... not from here?"
"I think it's the other way around, actually. Just a hunch, but... hm. Could you tell me a bit about where you're from?"
George went on to explain, her words occasionally accompanied by enthusiastic gesturing. By the end, the Pippins had a page full of notes, and a cute little sketch by George herself.
"Well, uh, I do wish I prepared better. You should probably leave now. I'm not quite sure how you being here works."
"Yeah, that makes sense."
He stood up, putting down the folder before turning back to the corkboard. "Door's behind you. I'm not actually sure what happens when you leave, but I assume you get home somehow."
"Alright, sounds good. Nice to meet you, Mike!"
"... Yeah."
When he turned around, she was gone.
"Hey, dude."
The Pippins turned. George. Six.
"George." He nodded at her, then pointed at himself. "Mike."
"Nice to meetcha, Mike." She put her hands on her hips, walking around to get a good look at the place. He surmised they'd probably be in her pockets if she had any. "Cool place you got. Super..."
"Eclectic?"
"Yeah, that works too." She made a clicky noise with her mouth (that she did not have) and shot two finger guns at him.
"Cool it with the artillery. I got some, uh... questions for you." He grabbed two folders off his desk, rifling through the pages before pulling out the one he was looking for. "Have a seat," he said, clearing off a table haphazardly before sitting down at a chair.
George sat down, leaning on her palm.
He cleared his throat. "OKAY. Questions. Your name is George."
"Yup."
"You have no recollection of me, or this place."
"Nuh-uh."
"Okay. I'd like to inform you, that unless I've been hallucinating EXTREMELY vividly the past couple of weeks, I have met you before. Numerous times."
She looked interested. "Oh, for real, dude? That sounds kinda like the manuscript I was workin' on before I popped in here."
"I'll ask you about that... soon. Uh, here's what I know about you, from the times we've met."
"Sure."
"Your name is George. Obviously. You... work at a library. Head Librarian, if I noted it down correctly. You live somewhere... you called it the Refuge."
"Yeah, that sounds 'bout right."
"And... okay, here's my theory, I guess. It really doesn't seem like you're from this place. It doesn't seem like you're a Lightner, so I was thinking maybe you're from another Dark World?"
"Mm-hmm. That sounds, like, tooootally interesting, but... I don't know what a Dark World is. Y'know?"
The Pippins looked a combination of frazzled and intruiged. "Okay okay okay. I suspected that, but I wasn't sure if it'd be true..." He began drumming his fingers on the table. "Uh, tell me about that manuscript, and what you were doing before you got here."
"Right. Lemme set the scene for ya. It's SUPER late, and I'm, like, SUPER tapped out. But I got this manuscript to edit, y'know? That thing's an absolute BEAST. Like, the Author loves his writing, but holy crap, that thing is INSANE. It's about, like... interdimensional..."
He looked down at his notes. "The theoreticals of...?"
"YEAH! Somethin' like that. Interdimensional travel through, uh... man, I can't remember. I was so close to conking out, dude. I think it was interdimensional travel through... something between... something something. Sorry, man."
"No, that's helpful. Thanks." His voice betrayed his excitement. "Continue?"
"Literally, I have no clue what happened next, bruh. Like, I swear, my brain must've taken five or somethin', cause I was there and then I was out like a light. And then I just..." She made a popping sound, splaying out her fingers to match. "Just like that. In this room."
He sighed. "Is there a SINGLE thing you remember? Every single time I've met you, you've given me some version of that story. Just... told different. Four other times."
"I really wish I could help, dude, but like..." She paused for a bit, thinking. "I was SO sleepy, man. I think my head was goin' all fuzzy and squiggly, like when you're tryin' to sleep after having too much caffeine. Sorta half there, half not."
"That's a little bit helpful, I guess."
"Dude, if you need anything else, I am, like, SO down to help. As long as I'm able."
"Appreciate it. You know... I never thought too much about it, but..." He looked up, studying her face carefully. "I think, every time I've seen you, you've been DIFFERENT. Like, the first time I met you, you seemed stressed outta your mind."
She shook her head. "That ain't sound like me, bruh. I'm tooootally chill."
"... Yeah. I think this is the fifth time we've met."
"Too bad I don't remember ya, man. You seem pretty cool."
He rubbed his neck bashfully, a smirk threatening to worm its way onto his face. "Ah, aw shucks..." George did the finger guns thing again, and he laughed a little bit before becoming serious again. "But WAIT—that's not what we were talkin' about! What were we talkin' about?"
"Ya met me before?"
"RIGHT! YES. I feel like your whole not remembering thing has something to do with... whyever you're getting transported here."
"Aw, if only I had that manuscript on me. It would be, like, UBER helpful. The Author is crazy smart about this stuff."
"Unfortunately, I can't really ask for anything of you other than what you've got up here." He tapped the side of his own head with one finger. George mirrored the action.
"... I feel like I've kept you long enough. Sorry. You must be really sleepy."
"Actually, I don't feel that tired for some reason. Weird."
"Mm." He put the files back in their folders, and the folders back in their places. He turned back to the corkboard, before changing his mind.
"I've always just let you out the door. I don't know what happens, actually."
"Why don'tcha take a look n' see?"
The Pippins led her out the door, hesitating before allowing her to leave. Unfortunately, he blinked, and he missed it—one second she was preparing to step out, and the next she was gone.
"Good evening!"
The Pippins turned. George. One (1) singular pip.
It had been a while since he'd last seen George, or maybe he just got so caught up in work that he'd forgotten. To any end, he was a bit surprised to see her again.
"George." He nodded at her, and she bowed back.
"You must be Mike!"
He perked up at that. "You—my name? You know it?"
"Just some lucky deduction, I suppose!" She gestured to the door behind her. "This door says 'Mike' on the exterior."
The Pippins slumped again. "Yeah, that makes sense. Hm. Oh, yeah, I have a procedure for this. Come, sit." He hauled a couple folders over to the table, stacking the other stuff to make room before sitting down. George assessed the seats before choosing the one across from him.
"Right. Okay. It's been a bit, and I'm stressed as HELL, so... gimme a second."
George nodded, and he took a moment to collect himself and his ever-increasing number of papers.
"You're George, yeah?"
She nodded, a hint of pride in her singular... it could be described as an eye. "Indeed! Head Librarian George, the one and only!"
"Yeah. Right. About that. I'm nearly certain that I've met you before. Five other times, at this point."
George seemed to perk up at this. "Oh?"
"You have NO recollection of me? Of any of this?"
She shook her head. "George doesn't remember you, no. If I met you before, I'm sure I wouldn't forget!"
"... Okay. Let me run through the rest of this, and then I'll ask you some extra stuff. What were you doing before you appeared here?"
"Right! I was editing a manuscript, as I do day and night. It was... ah, the name escapes me at this moment, but I'm certain it'll come back to me soon. It was quite late at night! Usually, this doesn't pose a problem for George, but it somehow did tonight."
The Pippins nodded along.
"Suddenly, I was struck by... what must've been a dizzy spell! Very unpleasant, zero stars. My vision went all strange, and my thoughts became all, well, fuzzed up. If you've experienced it, I'd describe it as similar to that unpleasant feeling you get when you cannot fall asleep, where your thoughts are drifting endlessly but you're not quite aware of your consciousness."
"You described it like that last time, too." He glanced down at his notes. "But, uh, different."
She nodded. "It's not something that George has—that I have—personally experienced all too much, but that is the most accurate description, in my eye. It's, well... that in-between state where, after you wake up the next morning, you're not quite sure if you were awake or asleep at that time."
"... Yeah. I've felt that before."
"Perfect!" she said, with probably too much enthusiasm. "I was in, most likely, the midst of that when I was transported here. Just in an instant."
The Pippins finished scrawling something in the margins of his notes. "... Thank you. Not to insult your other incarnations, but this is the most helpful you've been so far. You're, uh, a real good descriptivist."
"Why, thank you! How else can George be of help?"
"Well, I wanted to know—"
"Wait a moment. If we're going to be here a while, may I make us something to drink?"
"Uh, sure? I've only got instant coffee, really. I... might have a few loose tea bags."
"Voila!" George poured the tea carefully into two mugs, steam rising dreamily upwards.
"Thank you, George." He took a sip of his tea before continuing. "So, I mentioned this before, but... every time we've met, you've been different."
"Hm. You said you've met George five other times?'
"Yeah. This is the sixth. You were a little different every time. Your face..." He shook his head. "Anyway. I have a bit of a theory about this whole thing, but I'm gonna need some help here."
She nodded.
"As far as I can tell, you're not from this world, or the Light World, or any Dark World. From what you've described, you seem to be from... a different self-contained universe. Something that doesn't split off from this world in any form. I haven't delved too deep into multiverse theory before, but this is the only way I can explain this."
"Right."
"But... I don't know how you'd cross over to my world. And how, every time you're here, you're different every time, but you have the exact same story. It's like some weird time loop. I haven't watched those movies in ages, though. Even if these timelines are branching, I see no reason why two separate worlds would make contact in this way."
"Allow me. I have my own theory."
"Uh, go ahead."
"This sounds like a temporal anomaly. That much is clear. However..."
She cleared her throat, thinking with a slightly unsure expression before continuing.
"George has dabbled in multiverse theory once or twice. Perhaps, instead of thinking of each universe as a series of connected lines, each with one dimension, it could be thought of as..." She pointed at a sheet. "A file. Multiple, even, stapled together, but one file for the sake of simplicity."
"A file. Okay."
"This is where I speculate. There MUST be some outside force, beyond our knowledge, causing an interfacing of our worlds. Perhaps it is a deliberate act, or perhaps there is some natural 'drift' of our worlds in whatever space it occupies." She sighed. "However, even I cannot know. I would best describe this interfacing as putting multiple different files in one folder, or holding them together with a binder clip." She looked proud. "As I do extensively in my work."
The Pippins looked very puzzled. "But how does that lead to this... connection? Surely, even though we're in the same PLACE in... wherever, we're still separate."
"Yes, alas... that is quite puzzling, for sure. I surmise... perhaps the spaces we inhabit, or even us ourselves, have a strange relationship with time, so to speak. Not so much that it makes an impact within our world, but enough that the borders become 'fuzzy' or 'thin' at times. Like two thin sheets of paper, they may be pierced accidentally, and become connected. Or, if the sheets have already been pierced in the past."
"Uh... that makes a little bit of sense. I guess."
"George is merely hypothesizing here. Unfortunately, I have not studied this topic extensively." She made an L shape with her fingers at the base of her head, thinking. "If only the Author were here... I hear he's done plenty of research on this in the past. Not as of late, though."
"It's too bad. Is there ANY way I could reach out to him?"
"Unless you're particularly lucky, no. Even I have not met him personally. He only ever sends me manuscripts to edit and publish."
"Dammit..."
He grabbed a sheet of paper to write down what George said. "Though... what specifically do you think made us, specifically, able to meet each other?"
"On your side, I am not sure, but... there is a book in the archives that I have never been quite able to understand. Several, really, but I have a specific one in mind."
She pointed at her own head.
"Perhaps... this is something inherent to me. Six Georges existing in parallel, like the six sides of a die. That is where the 'hole' is in the sheet of paper, ready to be pierced. And when you're on the edge of sleep, where time feels fuzzier..."
The Pippins deadpanned, before bursting out laughing. "HAHA! That sounds like BULLSHIT!!" He slammed the table playfully with one hand before calming down. "But somehow, it does make sense. I did wonder."
"I know, I know. It does make some sense, doesn't it? And maybe, that is the reason you've met multiple versions of me. The connection is running its course through the parallel versions of my timeline."
"I guess..." He sighed. "I'm too tired for this right now, honestly. I'm gonna write this down, and... maybe I gotta start a new corkboard soon." He chuckled.
"It is probably for the best that George leaves soon," she said, her tone a bit somber. "However, there's no hurry. Our tea is still warm, and... I do have something I would like to ask of you.
"Shoot."
"The other Georges... could you tell me about them? I've suspected their existence before, but even with all I can do, I will likely never meet any of them."
"I'd be happy to. You've been such a help." He took a sip of his now-warm tea. "Let's see... the first time I met you. You reminded me of myself, to be honest. CLEARLY sleep-deprived, maybe a little frazzled. More than a little frazzled, honestly. I didn't talk to you that much—I was really just pissed that someone was in here after hours. Two pips on her face... we could call her, uh... Number 2?"
George smiled with her one eye. "Number 2... that sounds suitable."
He continued, glancing down at a piece of paper first. "Next... just a couple days later. Number 3. You seemed quite sad and down on yourself, but I think I just assumed you were having a bad day. You were very soft-spoken, so maybe I thought you had a cold. Just like 2, Number 3 came and went pretty quickly."
He grumbled. "There's no way I could've known at the time, but now I kind of wish I could've spent more time with each of them. Like—this is weird SPACE-TIME STUFF! And I just... IGNORED IT at first?? What a missed opportunity." He looked down into his mug. "Maybe it'd've been fun to get to know them, too."
They conversed for a little while longer, first about the rest of the Georges—5's sweetness, 4's excitement, 6's... whatever she's got going on.
"And then you. You're Number 1."
"How fitting!"
The topics of conversation then shifted. The Pippins summarized the whole Mike thing as briefly as he could, to George's interest. George told him about life back in her world.
"That sounds like a premise for a movie or book or something."
"Well, it's our reality."
He laughed. "That sounds bleak. I'm sorry."
"It is all right."
They told each other about their friends: The Pippins about the other Mikes, George about the Library's regulars and her good friend, a scientist.
She broke the silence briefly while they were finishing the last of their tea.
"George remembered the manuscript she was working on."
"Mm?"
"The Theoreticals of Interdimensional Travel Through Connected Temporal Interfacing Points. Quite a mouthful. I was considering trimming it down for publishing."
"It sounds... pretty cool."
Their mugs were empty now.
"I guess I should see you off, George. Thank you for your help. You seem very smart."
She looked quite proud. "I do, eh?"
They both chuckled.
"Do you think I'll ever see you again, George? You or another you?"
She lost her smile. "Unfortunately, this seems like the last time we will meet. Like I said, you've met George six times. There are six Georges. Surely, the effect of whatever anomaly caused this will end here."
"Oh." He couldn't help but feel a little pang of disappointment. "Too bad I didn't meet you earlier. Then we'd have figured this out closer to the start..."
"Maybe it was fate, hmm?"
"Sure. Yeah. Maybe."
He looked toward the door. "Every time, I've just let you leave through the door. I don't know what happens, or how you get home. I haven't been able to see. Last time I tried, but I missed it."
"Great that George is here to give you one last chance, then." She opened the door, getting ready to leave.
"I'll... well, I WON'T see you. But it's nice to have met you, George."
"George shall bid you farewell. This is the first time I have met you, but I did enjoy our time together."
"You're the one who I spent the most time with, actually... but, uh, I don't wanna keep you. You're clearly needed elsewhere. Bye, George."
"Goodbye, Mike." She smiled with her one eye.
When she stepped out of the door, it was like her form was exiting reality itself, slipping through a crack that had gone unnoticed. The Pippins wanted to rub his eyes, his vision warping where the door was, but then he'd miss it.
She waved, half her body distorted just slightly.
He waved back, and then she was gone.