It's a beautiful day in the village - TAKE A LOAD OFF, LOG 1

[libraryassistants]

Who: Readers and Actors
What: Beta Story Start - At the start of any particular Story, characters will be drawn to a section of the Stacks. Those inclined to resist will find themselves there anyway, through the shifts and changes inherent to the Library's structure. The Story manuscript will be laid out neatly on a side table, its pages lit by a faint aura that draws focus and beckons insistently to the Editors. Touching it will bring them into the Story.
Characters can either voluntarily touch the Story to enter it, or the Librarian will eventually sweep them in. Regardless of how long it takes them to enter, everyone will arrive at the same point in time.
When: November 14- November 27
Where: Woodhurst (UK) and the SS Radiance (in space!), 2019
Content warnings: Please tag warnings in comment headers!

In Woodhurst

It’s another Monday morning in Woodhurst, and as is often the case for the United Kingdom in the fall, it is raining. It is, all in all, a rather typical Monday morning. People shuffle off to work, dropping by the various cafes and shops for their morning caffeine. Polite (if meaningless) greetings are exchanged, vague comments about the weather are made. Heads down, trudging along, just keeping things going.

By midday, it’s clear that this Monday is a little bit… different. There are some people who seem especially cheerful and helpful. Perhaps you’ve just been served a free upsize of your morning coffee. Or a stranger held an umbrella up for you. People keep talking about the benefits of yoga? And it’s not just a bunch of people seeming to be having an especially good day and paying it forward (that would be strange enough). Some of your friends and loved ones aren’t acting like themselves, aside from being remarkably cheerful. They don’t seem to remember basic things, don’t know their normal rituals, and are generally just very off. You think one of them might have blinked sideways? Whatever it is that’s happened, it doesn’t seem right.

As for those ‘friends and loved ones’… The novices from the Interstellar Group are largely inexperienced with such a thing as covert operations. Fresh off the ship and with no frame of reference, their human disguises may have a few significant flaws.

However many fingers it is they have, they’re keen to help - perhaps a little too much so. Whatever it takes to make these human lives easier, whatever they can do to help them relax - the Group are on it! Hopefully they’ll catch on quietly.


On the IMW Group Supply Ship: Radiance

No plan survives contact with the enemy, is how the saying goes. But within the Interstellar Mindfulness & Wellness Group, the concept is usually applied to patients. Patients are, almost entirely across the board, unpredictable creatures - and while the science behind wellness is robust, there’s simply too much individual variation for a standardised approach. That being said, this particular plan seems to be going… rather more poorly than expected. It starts to break down once the word ‘kidnapping’ is brought up. It’s such an ugly word to use. The Group tries to avoid it. But in some of these cases, the humans need the Group’s own facilities! The idea was to convince the humans to follow them to a very not suspicious space capsule, or to get them to touch this particularly strange teleportation device, and they’d be on their way to recovery. However, most if not all the humans seem to be reacting… quite negatively to that. It’s almost like they don’t understand that this is for their benefit!

The ship is very nice, and perfectly designed to relax and comfort (--for the species the Group are familiar with, at least). Soothing music plays along the spaceship’s halls, which are lit in a soft violet glow. Potted plants are artfully displayed, though none of them are recognisable as any species found on Earth. For those with a sensitive nose, the flowers give off a bright, delicate scent; not unlike that of lavender and lemon myrtle. An entire stretch of glass is dedicated to the view outside, the Earth looking so serene from this distance; stars shining in the space around it.

For those Aliens aboard the mothership, maybe you’re delivering this hour’s yoga session. Maybe you’re leading a group chant or meditation. Are you perhaps talking humans into resting in the healing spa, or - for those so inclined - are you delving deeper, forming a connection, and really getting to know these humans? For the humans… well, at least the spa looks really nice, right?

[Space Spa Features:
Yoga - you’ve been herded into a room where a flexible alien encourages you to breathe deeply; holding it in your stomach and feeling your heart beat before letting it out in a big sigh. The routine is not very different to yoga on Earth, except… well, if you can’t find your proboscis, maybe that particular pose won’t work for you.
Sauna - the heat promotes circulation, but the temperature in here seems to be a little off.
Spa - you know what a spa is. Or, you thought you did. It looks like the aliens aren’t quite on the same page. Where there would normally be cucumbers, there’s a strange pink fruit. Where you’d expect water, there’s… a viscous fluid, gently rotating through a myriad of colours, that seems to soften and soothe your muscles as you soak in it.
And Others - the aliens have no shortage of remedies for what ails you! Since this is their first time experiencing humans, results may vary.]


Optional prompts (player-run):
An alien adrift, unsure what task to complete? Seek guidance from your leader.

In Woodhurst, unnerved and skeptical? Drop in at your local seedy bookshop to chat with some alien enthusiasts.

[Have a plan to drive the Story direction? Let us know, and we’ll add it to the list!

Info post can be found here.]

Comments

DREAM PALACE | Randolph OTA

[dreamquestion]

There's a bookshop just off the main street of Woodhurst that everyone knows and few people actually visit, a narrow thing that goes back uncannily deep, filled to the brim with shelves and loose towers of books, in disparate but consistent genres: occult and sci-fi, xenobiology and xenophilia, fiction and "fact" - and towards the entrance, a small selection of various wellness books in deference to the fact tourists keep thinking it's a massage parlour.

(To be fair the windows are curtained at all hours, and music is often playing quietly from inside; though the music varies from anything from synth instrumentals to punk metal to glam rock, but consistently with a heavy emphasis on drums.)

And the owner himself is That Weird/Chill Old Guy, also known as Randy Howard, who's owned the place for what seems like forever, and is always eager to talk about his stock. It's easy to find him having a smoke on the bench outside his shop during the day, but it's ostensibly open twenty-four hours a day. Feel free to drop in whenever you like, and he'll always be happy for a chat!

[bashasasdemon]

What.

Kaiisteron stops outside the bookstore- the familiar bookstore. Here. On Earth. He would contemplate the odds, but maths has never been his strong point and oh look he's walking purposefully inside already, ok.

He walks up to the desk, looking around, but realizing that wouldn't do him any good. Not if this is what he thinks it is, who could be here. He doesn't look like himself, after all. So he starts tapping on the table, a steady, pulsing rhythm. The beat of a far off planet, one that perhaps could still be called home even after so long apart.

[dreamquestion]

The desk is unmanned (the till, if anyone was so inclined to try and pop it open on the old relic, only has about twenty pounds in change), but Randy doesn't need to be there to hear it.

There's a creak of wood in the stacks as the familiar beat catches in his chest with a familiarity that aches, almost physically. Not just from the tune that sits deep in his blood, but from the familiar quick tempo of whoever's playing it.

But it couldn't be. Surely not...?

He takes a breath, pushing it through spiracles that make the shirt he is actually wearing flap slightly, before he goes back to the counter, and smiles warmly at the unfamiliar face.

"I do beg your pardon. Can I help you, young man?"

[bashasasdemon]

The man who approaches isn't familiar- but then again, Kaiisteron doesn't look anything like himself either. The hair, maybe, but you'd have to replace his skin with his normal brownish-gray ridges and while the projection made his skin a warm brown it's not remotely the same. But there's still something familiar about the man. ...He hopes he's not making that up.

Of course, now that he's here and facing a person, he's realizing he doesn't actually have a plan. "Uh," he says, his finger pausing and disrupting the steady beat; he moves to keep it on his arm, needing the steadying pulse of his planet if he's going to get through this conversation it seems, "Sorry. I'm... visiting the area. Your store caught my eye." Wow, he really can't judge any of the juniors, this is hard. "...My name is Kaiis-- Kai." Kaiisteron is not a human names. He thinks Kai is?

[shelloflight]

A familiar face pops out of a familiar helmet.

"Allo again, Mr. Howard!" Michiko says brightly, possibly with some Punk Kids in tow. "Have you got the latest from Stross and Scalzi in today?"

For all her friends may be punks, Michiko is one of Randy's best customers, with a voracious taste for science fiction and fantasy.

[dreamquestion]

"Not yet, love, you know how hard it is for me to get new stock in," he chides with warm amusement, as he raises an eyebrow at her flock, but moves to lean against the counter so some of them can pass him and scurry deeper into the shop. There's nothing in there that needs worrying about; no-one actually wants to get banned from his shop for damaging the merchandise, though he's not sure whether it's the rumours he's been in the wars or just that he's too nice to cross. "You'll have it here when someone trades it, same as anyone else."

[shelloflight]

“Ah, well, can’t blame me for trying,” she says. “Thanks for introducing me to ‘Doc’ Smith, by the way. Very unfortunately from the 50’s but it’s fascinating to see what Star Aria was pinching her ideas from.”

She pauses, trying to keep a straight face before breaking into a grin.

“…Have a few things to trade in from Mum’s shop. Anything new or positively ancient and interesting you’ve gotten in? English or JP is fine.”

[starandhope]

Min'a has been going into every shop on the high street, in a methodical sort of way, because that's what humans do when they go shopping, right? Maybe not exactly.

Still, when she steps into this one, she pauses, glancing around. There may be a book or two that catch her eye - books that she never expected to see on Earth, in a human shop.

"Pardon me, are you the proprietor?" she asks, all innocence. There's a xenobiology book in her hands. It was one of her textbooks in school. "Where did you get this?"

[dreamquestion]

Oh shit, he thought he'd put that one away.

There's a look of surprise for a moment at the genuine article being held in the young woman's hand, before he tilts his glasses up to act like he's getting a better look at it and not quietly cursing himself for not being more mindful.

"Ah, I couldn't tell you, unfortunately!" It's cheerful but apologetic, and also Welsh. "If I kept a list of all the books that have come through here, it'd take a whole shelf! It was on topic and entertaining, so clearly I was willing to pay for it."

[hellandbackpack]

Was Randolph enjoying the rare moment of peace and quiet in his little shop?

Oh well!

The jingle of the doorbell let him know that someone had come in, and it didn't take long for them to make themselves known.

"Oi! Howsit, Mister Howard?" Called out as Charles shifted his backpack on his shoulder, tugging the tie of his school uniform loose enough to yank it off over his head and stuff it absently into a jacket pocket. He could go home and change but his mother had texted him in last class that his father had come home early today, so he decided he'd spend some time downtown instead. Which meant harassing his favorite mysterious Maybe A Vampire Bookmonger.

[dreamquestion]

"Wotcher, Charles," he calls back readily, lifting his head from where he's seated at the register today. Old knees and all that, but also he's got a really nice rocking chair that's lived there now for longer than Charles has been alive that can handle his unusual weight. "You left your jacket here last time, hold on."

More accurately, it's one of the ones Randy keeps in rotation for all the kids that pass through, but it's a black denim one covered in patches that he's meticulously collected over the years that Charles had claimed on sight, so he grabs it out from where he's rolled it up under the counter and lobs it lightly at his chest. "There's a hat stand for a reason, lad," he adds with a little chuckle.

[thelightshines]

There's the ringing of a bell, annoucing the arrival of someone entering this quaint little bookstore. It's followed by the sound of an umbrella, being closed and put away, the sound of shoes rubbing against the mat.

It's a certain punk kid with some mean red highlights, who insist everyone calls him Shadow. They were here to apparently work for the day, though he remains at the entrance, scanning the area. Instructions were not provided if he was usually punctual arriving for his shift, so "Shadow" here arrived a few minutes before his start time. He was also not made aware if there was a back door to this place to enter from.

Regardless, he merely adjust the red scarf he has chosen to wear over his usual attire today and takes a few steps further in, searching for someone that looks to be the owner of this place.

[dreamquestion]

He doesn't recognise the sound of the footsteps through the front door, which isn't unusual, per se, just a little uncommon when he's lived in town as long as he has.

"Just a moment, sorry!" The Welsh accent has a heavy vibrato, even just speaking naturally, that always makes him sound like he's on the verge of breaking out in song. But he pops out from around a corner, a stout figure with an open vest and a little bowtie that he's always found delightfully disarming - and pauses in surprise at the figure in the doorway.

"Shadow?" There's the slightest of frowns behind his glasses for a moment, but he covers it readily with a quirk of one eyebrow and an easy smile. "It's not like you to use the front door, lad. You surprised me."

[scienceofthearcane]

Viktor would look very different from how he had looked in the library, and he was rolling a kick drum through the door with him. Why in the world was Viktor rolling a kick drum? It was the only thing big enough to disguise the big crystal bowl inside it that was keeping him healthy. At least he had been able to take the tube without it causing looks.

Viktor also would have been concerned that he seemed crazy to suggest it, but he had good reason to suspect that there was more to this shop than just some weird used books.

[dreamquestion]

It's an odd bookshop to be sure. There's a rocking chair behind a till that looks like it came fresh out of the sixties, and towering shelves stocked heavily with books of all sorts of genres. The ones nearest the door as he walks in are actually about wellness and spiritual wellbeing, though there's only a narrow space for the drum to fit into the store with him before the space is simply too functionally narrow for the drum to be viable to roll through the place.

And shortly after he enters (drawn by the baffling sound of the drum being rolled along), an older man makes his way to the front counter, from a staircase that's almost completely obscured by books, making a face like he just licked a lemon. It's even odds whether Viktor even recognises him; not that he looks different, just that they didn't cross paths often in the Library just yet. But it's a familiar old man with bottle-glass lenses (unlike Randolph's normal thin wire-rims) and a scholarly look; though under the button-down sweater is visibly a Metallica band shirt.

"I'm- terribly sorry, lad, but you might have to leave that outside," he says, his Welsh accent perfectly jovial, though slightly apologetic. "Not sure that'll fit through all these, is all. Don't want to cause an avalanche."

[holiestlove]

The drizzle of the day had not stopped Harker from exploring this strange little town. He jumped less when cars zoomed by as he went down the sidewalk. Plenty of things were strange and uncomfortable, but that didn't stop his curiosity over this quaint town.

Stepping inside the bookstore, drawn by the strange music. A moment was spared once the door was closed behind him to take in the store. Electric lights and the feel of the place. It brought a smile to his face without even realizing it.

As he made his way to the counter, his eyes widened seeing the professor behind the counter. He wished he had not been so rude as to forget to introduce himself to the man when they spoke last, but his panic over aliens wearing human skin kind of overrode his normal sensibilities. "Good evening, sir." He greeted as he came over to the counter. He knew he was in a story; he knew he did not look like himself outside of body type, eyes, and face, but it did not dim the hope. Sunglasses pushed up into his hair, waiting to see if there was any recognition.

[dreamquestion]

Sadly there's no recognition on the old man's face whatsoever. Just a cheerful smile as the young man walks in, as he pauses to slip a receipt into the book in his hands to mark his page.

"Evening, lad! You're a new face 'round here." His voice is Welsh, jovial and easy as he goes to stand - from a rocking chair, is evident immediately, the space behind the counter barely enough to fit it around the stacks of boxes. "How can I help you today?"

[fearinahandfulof]

There is a certain irony in taking shelter in a place full of books when you've just been thrown out of one. At least this one looks relatively normal. She thinks. That doesn't mean it is normal, but it's less intimidating.

(Truthfully, she hadn't been sure what to expect when she'd seen the place, what with the curtained windows. She'd just wanted to get away from all the people outside for a bit. Being social is tiring.)

The music from nowhere is a bit annoying, though she suspects it would be less so if she knew where it was coming from.

She spends a fair amount of time looking through all the books (still more in one place than she'd ever seen in her life, before the Library), wondering if she could find any useful knowledge there, like maps or history. Instead, she finds herself paging through a xenobiology book, comparing the text and illustrations to various Awakened Beings she'd dealt with. Including herself; she's honestly not sure why she's not still Awakened, unless it had had to do with that last battle, the one she'd had with the faintly smiling woman after...

...No. She's not going to continue that thought. Not here.

She wonders idly if there's anything in this book similar to other warriors, though she doubts it. And really, that might be for the best.

[dreamquestion]

The sound of gentle, heavy footsteps gets Randy's attention, but since she doesn't call out he'll leave her be for a minute while he's unpacking a box.

It only takes him a few minutes, though, until he's done and passes by on his way back to the counter, and gives her a warm smile.

"Let me know if you'd like any help there, miss," he says, warm and Welsh, though his face might be at least vaguely familiar to Cassandra from the actual Library. "I can answer any questions about my stock - I know it's a bit eclectic," he adds with a dry little chuckle.

Re: DREAM PALACE | Randolph OTA

[codeswitchcraft]

There's an older teen dressed in a school uniform at the back of the speculative fiction section who has just made a sound of surprised pleasure. "I know this book," she says, paperback in hand. "My friend read it to me. So we really are on Earth, then."

Then she winces, as if realizing she'd just said that out loud.

(The book in her hand seems to be Stephen King's The Gunslinger.)

Re: DREAM PALACE | Randolph OTA

[dreamquestion]

Talking to herself wouldn't normally get a comment, but the wince triggers a raised eyebrow.

"My assistant will be very quick to assure you that we are definitely on Earth," he chuckles warmly, as he turns the corner to see the teenager for himself. "Despite his own wishes to the contrary. Can I help you at all, lass?"

Re: DREAM PALACE | Randolph OTA

[terraboo]

Bookstores! Not the same as libraries, but very similar in very important ways! Like large amounts of books! And people who know how they're sorted.

A fine place for Laina to duck away from... A lot of things.

"Got anything for a girl from overly rural England who needs to catch up on living in a proper town, maybe? Like. Excessively rural. Six sheep and a single dog rural. Including, uh, if there's things I should be weirded out by relative to normal towns? I feel like something's up but."

Re: DREAM PALACE | Randolph OTA

[dreamquestion]

That gets a chuckle, but after some of the folks he's seen come through in the last couple of days he's a little bit suspicious of how specific that justification is.

"Well I suppose that depends on what you're into, missy." His voice is warm, still, the picture of a Cool Old Uncle. "What sort of things do you not get much of in your backwater little village?"

Very early in the week - as in, day 1 morning 1

[ultimateedgehog]

It's a peaceful day in the store. The rain's beating an annoying rhythm against the windows, a noise Shadow's drowning out with his earphones and the stereo in the shop. His coffee's hot at the til, waiting for him to return from where he's hauled a box over to unpack onto the shelves.

All is at peace. Relaxed, even.

And then -- there's a thud. A pause. The sense of tension slowly rising in the air.

And then stompstompstomp, the sound of embarrassed irritated teenager heading Randy's way. An innocent-seeming book (uncover the deep mysteries of the extraterrestrial, the blurb invites) clenched tightly in his hands before he smacks it down in front of the older man.

"You did this on purpose." He grinds out, red on his face to match the streaks in his hair. How dare you bait and switch him like this--

[dreamquestion]

The thumping of Shadow storming towards the front desk with a bright red face has a cadence distinct from when he's doing it in disbelief or frustration, though only a Kloax would notice it, the way he's a little bit quicker like if he drops off the object of embarrassment sooner the feeling will stop.

And then his boy's in sight, and he grins, shameless and bright in the best sort of Dad Joke Grin.

"What's the problem today, then, Shadow?" he asks brightly, as if he's none the wiser.