The First Time Franklin Gets Into Trouble
Jacob pulls open the middle drawer of his desk—the one where he keeps all of his fancy artist's pens, pencils, markers, highlighters, chalks, erasers. As his blue eyes widen and stare into the wide shallow drawer, he stands rock-still for a moment, stunned.
Every single item in the drawer has been chewed on at least partially. Some of them have been literally chewed to pieces. Even his set of expensive mechanical pencils that he uses for drawing blueprints are so badly mangled that they're now useless.
Some of the erasers and many of the chalks are missing altogether.
There is only one creature in the whole of the Library responsible for so much wanton destruction.
"FRANKLIN!"
The Second Time Franklin Gets Into Trouble
Ezekiel Jones opens the kitchen cupboard where he keeps his private stash of snacks. Popcorn, pretzels, cheese puffs, chips of all brands and flavors from all over the world, all kinds of canned and bottled soft drinks. Today he's going to go old-school and watch Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon for what must be the twentieth time. Because let's face it—Michelle Yeoh is pretty hot when she's kicking asses and taking numbers.
As soon as the cupboard door swings open, a veritable waterfall of snacks pours out and spills onto the countertop and then the floor. As he stares into the cupboard, his jaw hanging slack in disbelief, Ezekiel can see that every single box and bag has been ripped open.
All of the snacks are ruined—including that huge brand new bag of chili crab potato chips he brought back with him from that Jakarta mission last week.
There is only one creature in the whole of the Library responsible for so much wanton destruction.
"FRANKLIN!"
The Third Time Franklin Gets Into Trouble
Cassandra Cillian-Jenkins goes to the battered old wooden filing cabinet in the lab and pulls one of the middle drawers open, then shrieks when she sees what's inside. Instead of her meticulously-kept notebook that records the properties of various spell components and their reactions to one another as she experiments with creating her own magical spells, she finds a large, thick nest made of shredded and gnawed paper, leather, vellum and papyrus.
All of her notes are gone.
Dumbfounded, she picks up a scrap of paper, sees a fragment of her small, neat handwriting on it. Her eye then catches sight of spot of bright turquoise. She gingerly plucks at it with a pair of tweezers and discovers that it's half of a satin bra—and not one of hers.
As Cassandra looks back into the drawer in bewilderment, she notices that the nest has a bowl-like depression in it—just the right diameter and shape to accommodate a smallish creature as it napped undisturbed, curled up into a roll and snugly hidden within the filing cabinet.
There is only one creature in the whole of the Library responsible for so much wanton destruction.
"FRANKLIN!"
The Fourth Time Franklin Gets Into Trouble
Eve Baird steps out of the shower as she wraps the large thick bath towel snugly around her body. She and Flynn have their own apartment away from the Library, but they also have a bedroom in the Library that they use for the sake of convenience, especially when preparing to leave for or just coming back from a mission. It's been a while since they last spent any time here, and so it comes a shock when she goes to her huge walk-in closet and finds her clothes scattered all over the floor. As she slowly steps into the room, she notices that all of the dresser drawers are open. The scratches in the furniture's finish tells her that someone has jimmied them open, but who? And why? The drawers don't even lock.
The contents of each drawer have been removed and are strewn about—blouses, t-shirts, socks, panties, leggings, bras. She bends over to pick up one of her favorite bras. Or rather, what's left of it. She stares at the turquoise satin garment in horror; it's been ripped in half, but she can't find the other half anywhere in the room.
As she stands in the middle of the destruction, she lets loose an agonized cry and rushes across the room, the half-bra falling forgotten to the floor.
She scoops up the remains of what was once her most comfortable jumpsuit. Now it's little better than a rag. Tears, holes, buttons missing, the zipper nearly ripped free of the garment entirely.
She turns and surveys the debris, her lips pressing together as she realizes that there is only one creature in the whole of the Library responsible for so much wanton destruction.
"FRANKLIN!"
The Fifth Time Franklin Gets Into Trouble
Flynn Carsen enters Judson's office (his office, now, he still has to keep reminding himself), a vast, opulent room that looks like something straight out of a Baroque palace. He quickly strides across the polished marble floor towards the alcove where his massive, ornately-carved and gilded desk sits. He drops into the luxuriously-upholstered chair and reaches down to pull open a drawer.
But his hand freezes before his fingers even touch the drawer's golden handle. His jaw drops and he yelps at the sight of one of the desks legs—it has been mangled beyond all redemption. Something has clearly been gnawing on it; there are also thin, deep gouges in the antique wood, as though something had been tightly gripping the desk's bottom edges with fingers tipped with tiny, razor-sharp claws. Flynn stands up slowly and shakes his head in numb disbelief, his heart beginning to pound as the full understanding of the damage sinks in.
There is only one creature in the whole of the Library responsible for so much wanton destruction.
"FRANKLIN!"
The One Time Franklin Doesn't Get Into Trouble
Jenkins enters his private study and closes the door behind him. He walks into the middle of the room and turns around slowly, his sharp dark eyes taking in every nook and cranny. Finally he puts his large hands on his hips and sighs loudly, as though he's had a particularly trying day. From behind a row of books on the wall-length shelving, he can just make out two large black eyes peering out apprehensively. The owner of those eyes knows he's been naughty. And so does Jenkins; he's gotten an earful about the little tea dragon's antics from everyone.
"There you are!" Jenkins rumbles and he walks towards the shelving. Franklin whimpers softly as he carefully climbs out from behind the wall of books, just in time for the old Caretaker to pluck the little dragon up with both hands. Franklin begins to tremble, and his soft whimper turns into an almost pleading whine as his ears, head and tail droop submissively. Jenkins lifts Franklin into the air in front of him so that they are nose to nose, and he frowns deeply.
"There is only one creature in the whole of the Library who can be responsible for so much wanton destruction!" he says in a low rumble, like distant summer thunder. Jenkins suddenly flips Franklin onto his back and settles him into the crook of his arm. With his other hand, Jenkins begins to scratch Franklin's stomach, sending the little creature into wild, happy wriggles and squeals of surprised delight.
"What a wicked little beast you are!" the silver-haired man continues in mock reproof as he continues to scratch the dragon's belly and then playfully tries to grab the flailing snout. "What am I going to do with you, hey? What am I going to with you?"
Franklin shrieks with glee, then twists his long body around until he is able to scramble up the man's coat sleeve. He perches on Jenkins's shoulder. Relieved that his adoptive father isn't angry with him, Franklin rubs his cool scaly snout and head against the old immortal's cheek, produces a sound in his throat not unlike a cat's purr. Jenkins snorts softly, amused. He reaches his hand up to affectionately scratch his little friend behind one floppy ear and Franklin whines in contentment, wrapping his long tail around Jenkins's neck as he leans into the man's fingers.
Jenkins will find a nice safe reconstitution spell for Cassandra to use to restore her destroyed notes; it'll be good practice for her, plus being able to use magic will take a great deal of the sting out of the damage to her notes. Jenkins estimates that it will cost him a good deal to replace everything that's been damaged; he especially winces at the thought of what it will cost to repair the leg on Mr. Carsen's desk. Perhaps Cassandra can practice the reconstitution spell on that as well…?
Franklin chirps softly and reaches one tiny paw out to lightly scratch at Jenkins's nose and get his attention. The immortal smiles and resumes the affectionate ear scritches. Franklin trills with pleasure, his big black eyes closing dreamily. Jenkins smiles and walks over to the comfortable leather sofa to sit. He lifts Franklin from his shoulder and lays him on his back on his lap, then spends the next several minutes lightly batting the little tea dragon's rump, first one side and then the other. Franklin squirms madly and tries to catch the old immortal's hands, shrieking shrilly with excitement as the game progresses and making Jenkins laugh.
It's going to cost me a pretty penny to put everything to rights again he thinks to himself, But it's worth every cent—and more.