[Beckett was in the library, where he always is; it wasn't hard to charm the man in charge, especially when he offered to help catalogue. He's deep enough in trying to wring what he can from the incoherent collection that his first response to his buzzing communicator is to shove it irritably under a pile of papers.
When his image flickers through, he's remarkably disheveled looking. Like a man who's been tearing his hair out over back issues of National Geographic, trying to sort from context clues if they're from THIS world or a DIFFERENT world]
no subject
When his image flickers through, he's remarkably disheveled looking. Like a man who's been tearing his hair out over back issues of National Geographic, trying to sort from context clues if they're from THIS world or a DIFFERENT world]
Where are you now, and where did she go?