unfinishedlibrary | It's a beautiful day in the village

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

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That is a question with a very obvious answer. Tsang is Here To Help^tm so everything comes before its own safety. As for Sanguinius, well, ask Azkaellon at some point how he feels at being the Great Angel's bodyguard.

In other words, nearly none. No sense of self preservation at all. "Ah their eyes are poorly adjusted to bright light." So Tsang probably just looked like a large blurry shape to these dogs and their superlative night vision. "Thank you for the advice, friend!" Of course it steps out of the light and toward its new friend. "How can I pay you back for this aid?" ....therapy, perhaps?

"Predators often do struggle with unexpected brightness," says the pleasant-sounding voice in the dark, as Tsang gets out of the blighted light and into something a little more comfortable. Does it help the dogs?

Maybe a little, shadows embolden them a bit too, and their circling caution creeps a little bit closer. Barks become a little more sporadic. Maybe it's working!

The pleasant tone of voice doesn't at all match the malicious emotions attached to them. "If you wish to repay me, I would like to have a few questions answered. Nothing difficult, I assure you." He doesn't need therapy. What would he even do with it?

"You seem very knowledgeable on this topic." Said without even a hint of a suspicion or tatter of a red flag. It's always good to praise someone for something they have done themselves.

Sure there's something...very uneasy that it gets from the new person. Something that feels like teeth and anger, but that's clearly just a mask for trauma. Because the person is helping it!

"I will answer any questions you have, and maybe ask some of my own!" Talk therapy is one of Tsang's knowledge areas. It's so HARMLESS, stranger. Look at it. It's even got a manbun. Who in the history of ever has been evil wearing a loose messy manbun?

Ever since he discovered daemons exist and at least some of their properties, innocent harmless looks no longer are purely innocent. And it's disguises anyway, he can smell the alien under the appearance. "Indeed. I'm quite familiar with dogs. They're tasty." He's not planning on eating these ones.

Eating stray dogs isn't something he's had to do for a long time now. At this point, his own equerry would throw a fit if he tried. It's beneath him, or some such nonsense.

"Ah, wonderful. In that case, you have friends in town, don't you?" He's not buying that these aliens are stupid, but naive ... might be another matter. "If I wanted to meet them, perhaps all at once, could you help me do that?"

"I. Uh. Did not know that." They did not look very tasty but then again, Tsang only consumes ethically sourced fruit smoothies. "These seem as they would rather not be eaten." Please take their opinion into consideration, stranger! Consent is key!

"Friends? Oh, no I'm a tourist here." It holds out the book that Shadow had given it in the bookstore. A guide to alien species. See? Tourist souvenir. "But I am holding a drum circle later, if you would like to meet new friends!" Come on, stranger, get naked and dance around a bonfire to badly played hand drums!

"Offer them a treat and they'll come right to you, they know their fates." That's consent, right? It counts, surely.

He hasn't bothered trying to find anything to eat here yet. Of all the things he found important, that was not one of them, but suggesting otherwise was often entertaining. Especially when aliens didn't seem to realize the taboo against eating 'pets'.

These. Are definitely pets. They have collars and everything, and as things FAIL to escalate in any way a dog recognizes as potentially hazardous, the spanielish one creeps a little closer yet.

There is irony in an alien holding onto a book about aliens. "Nobody goes sight-seeing alone. Surely you have companions you travel with." He knows there are. He just isn't sure how many. "Will your friends be at this circle of yours..?"

"I...don't think that would count as informed consent?" It had taken an entire training module on consent, after all. But there's something rather...intimidating about this stranger.

No, that was probably just Tsang's imagination. The poor man probably had some hideous deformity which was why he was only out at night, afraid of the eyes and judgment of others. Humans could be SO judgy! Clearly the poor man suffered terrible trauma.

They would need to talk about it.

Perhaps do some somatic exercise.

"Oh I do, but they're all back at the--" wait, no. Don't say spaceship. "The campsite." Which is 100% NOT a place to transport humans in need up to the intensive therapy centers on the Radiance. Nope. Nosirree. "Would you like to come meet them?"

There is absolutely nothing wrong here at all, and Curze definitely does not have a knife. He's just a friendly stranger here to help deal with agitated dogs. "Oh come now, who's likely to know more about these creatures, you or I?"

Never mind that he too has never set foot on this planet before, at least he still belonged there!

"You're staying at a campsite?"

How interesting. Was it really a campsite, given the sudden pause? "I would like to meet all of them. I do so love meeting strangers from other shores. Can that be arranged?"

"I know something about canids!" It sounds defensive because, hey it did its homework on Earth. It knows about canids and felids and they were often considered companions and that some humans considered dogs to be so nice that humans 'didn't deserve dogs'.

Poor humans. Of course they did. All sentient beings deserved loving companionship.

Of course he's 'staying' at a 'campsite'. You can't kidnap people up to the spaceship from a hotel room! It's logistically too difficult! "Well, if they're done setting it up," Tsang is the SMOOTHEST liar, obviously. There has to be some reason he'd just lead his new therapy friend to an open clearing with mild scorch marks in the ground. "You are welcome to come!"

Come and get THERAPYNAPPED, that is.

Curze makes a low tsks noise. "And you left them to set it all up themselves while you mill around in the dark? For shame."

One of the dogs finally creeps close enough to sniff Tsang directly, still very much cautious, but suddenly being coldnosed out of nowhere if the alien isn't paying attention, might be startling.

But this is a trap he'll willingly walk into, just to see how many more of these creatures there are. It's unfortunate they looked so human, he wouldn't have minded a more interesting hide to decorate his power armor with. "By all means. Why don't you show me where your associates are? Perhaps invite any others in town along too, everything's better in groups, don't you think?"

"I, er, no?" Really Tsang should have rehearsed a better story than this, but this is what it went with so.... "I was tasked to try to advertise our events." It holds up a sheaf of Xeroxed flyers. See? EVIDENCE.

Tsang nearly jumps out of its human disguise at a cold nose poking it in the crotch (excuse you, canid, but that's where Revanians stored sensitive organs!) and for a moment its eyes might flick from big blue human to bigGER and gold but shush you saw nothing.

Why does it feel uncertain? Here was a prospective patient, volunteering to come along, and more than that, volunteering for a group Sharing Circle.

Wait, it knew why! Nervousness was just a negative name for excitement! It had read that in one of its training manuals. That was clearly it. "We can go there right now!" It can post flyers later.

He might be more cautious if he knew these particular aliens were psykers. The idea that something might simply be able to feel his changing emotions was a ridiculous notion! And he wouldn't be able to hide that well anyway, he very much wanted to kill them all.

Once he had them in one place. Once they couldn't escape, before more humans went missing. He could be endlessly patient. He had to be. "You won't find anyone out at night."

Well. Besides himself.

"Lead the way. I will follow."

Oh, Tsang can feel emotions but all they signal to it is that this poor prospective patient is seriously in need of therapy. One can ignore a flotilla of red flags if they all point to associating colors and shapes in an art studio!

"You're out at night." a HA! Logic to Tsang's rescue! Refute that, strange new friend!

But it's happy to lead the way, tracing a path through the woods. It wasn't a long walk, but there was time for some Conversation! "What do you normally do for self-care?" That's a totally normal conversational topic. Yes, yes.

"I'm not anybody." As the alien walks away and Curze follows barefoot behind him, the urge to grab the creature and slit its throat is almost overwhelming. He didn't have to guess at its duplicity, it thinks it's luring some helpless innocent human into its clutches.

Who knows what it intends to do with whatever unfortunate it captures. The things aliens did to humanity were manyfold, and sometimes could disturb even him.

Best to wait, and catch more at once than a singleton, who might simply be a scout. "You'll have to clarify what you mean by 'self-care'," says the man, who has probably never even heard of a bar of soap, never mind meditation and serenity.

"Everyone is someone, at least in their own story." Oh, friend, you need so much help! And Tsang is willing to give it. Just come on board, play with fingerpaints ~~not blood~~ and become self actualized!

Clutches is a harsh word, though. Look at Tsang. Just look at it. Hugs, yes. Clutches? No.

"You know, what do you do to relax, to regulate your emotions after a tough day?" Foot spa? Poetry?

"Oh yes? And yet it is fate that the vast teeming throngs of humanity are footnotes in an administratum clerk's databases. The anonymity is delightful."

Clutches is definitely the right word. This is obviously a disguise, who knows what lurks beneath it! Especially if Tsang is a shapechanger; he didn't really think those existed but his grasp on what is and is not real has been rather tenuous since discovering the Warp entities are actually things.

He still wants external proof, but who knows. This could be a daemon right now. "I'm fond of leatherworking." Ignore the spike of malice that follows the words. It means nothing. "I put quite a bit of effort into crafting messages anyone could understand, looking upon my work. I find it very relaxing."

The struggle to not kill the thing right now is one of the hardest things he's had to endure for a while.

"Well," that sounds sad. "It is a common trauma response to dehumanize others." That's clearly what's happening with these 'clerks'. "But true meaning is the individual's to assign to his or her own life."

If Tsang were a daemon, it would probably have some, you know, level of risk assessment, instead of thinking about the poor person behind it who really, really needs help.

"Oh, that sounds...interesting?" It did, but not quite with the way the other said it. "Do you create taxidermy or art pieces?" Please clap for Tsang, trying to be supportive!

They were almost at the clearing, and the most suspicious thing Tsang is doing is looking at its smartwatch.

While it was certain everyone in the administratum were traumatized, he was pretty sure that's also just the generic default of life in the Imperium. "Bureaucracy does have quite a bit in common with trauma, I suppose." There's no one else for quite some distance, as far as Curze can tell.

No murmur of distant voices. No scent of other bodies, no movement in the dark.

He's not surprised. If there was a single shred of evidence of anyone forming a camp nearby, that would be more noteworthy. "A little bit of both. A good hide doesn't last unless it's cured, after all, and then you have to get another one within a week or two."

Maybe if there are others, they'll investigate the sound of their companion's screaming. "There is an art to it all its own, working with organic material. A sculpture so rarely stays where you put it unless it's carefully wired into place. I'll show you, if you'd like." By SURELY pure coincidence alone, Tsang's cooperative human he found is closing, bit by bit.

"Oh you...acquire your own pelts." It is trying so hard not to be judgmental but that sounds like it involves *killing things* and that's not very nice. "I imagine that is distressing, but an essential part of your craft." But definitely distressing.

"I am always interested in another artist's work and process." It would LOVE to see your art, like..photographs or holograms preferably.

But oh no! Tsang's shoe came untied! Or it didn't but it is stalling so it can hit the teleportation beacon, but, subtly. It drops down swiftly to fake tie its boot laces. Just a ...few...moments...more....

It definitely involves killing things! Eventually! "My sons do sometimes bring me interesting things," Curze muses, noting the distinct lack of unlaced shoes, and reaching down to close pale fingers around Tsang's wrist and smartwatch. And if he can catch the alien, pull it back to its feet with suspicious gentleness. Acquiring victims is always the easy part. "But it lacks a certain satisfaction in finding someone myself. I'd hoped to show your xenos friends as well. Oh well."

Someone. Not something.

"Allow me to demonstrate." The serenity of his tone doesn't at all match the seething malice beneath it, or the thin gleam of a short knife in his other hand.

Maybe taking this creature onboard Tsang's ship will be a spectacularly bad idea. Oops.

"Oh, you have a family?" That's sweet. Tsang wondered how the stranger could give such traumatized vibes but have such a healthy gift-giving dynamic with children.

Even if it is carcasses. Ew.

Some....one? Oh that did not sound delightful. At all. Especially as Tsang, all five foot five inches of him, is lifted nearly off his feet by the stranger. The stranger, whose hand was covering its teleportation homer.

"D-demonstrate?" Can you actually hurt someone blinking up at you with big innocent eyes like this? It's so naive, and so little challenge.

He absolutely can, it wouldn't be the first big eyed innocent thing he's butchered in his time! Probably not even the only one in the past handful of months. "I do, yes. But they are so very far away now." His legion was nowhere near a colony like this, and if they were, compliance was hardly going to be needed.

This place could be pacified just as easily by Lorgar. Except for the aliens.

And this one is maybe a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, a pathetic example of whatever species it is. "Demonstration is the best form of instruction, don't you think?" The knife, a wickedly sharp little thing liberated from some kitchen and normally destined for chopping vegetables, is tapped lightly against the captured hand. "Now. You will tell me what I wish to know, won't you?" His smile is easy and friendless. "I will let you go if you cooperate, this does not need to end badly for you."

That's a straight up lie.

"Is that why you are so...sad? Do you miss them?" That might explain the emotional disarray Tsang feels coming off the other.

"I. Er. It is helpful in certain tasks, but restrictive of creativity in others." Telling someone to draw their feelings was one thing. Telling them to draw an orange triangle was another, and against the purpose of art.

"That is a knife," Tsang points out, because perhaps, uh, maybe the stranger didn't know? "They are dangerous. Please be careful."

Its voice might squeak a bit. "I don't think this is quite necessary!" Tsang would answer questions without the, uh, sharp objects and deep intimidating voice.

"Shh. Shhh. This isn't about me." He hated most of them. "And yes, it is a knife, very good! They can be ever so dangerous, but I am something of an expert with them. I will not do any harm I don't intend to."

If he didn't know better he'd wonder if this was an alien version of a civilian, helpless and pathetic, and thoroughly out of its depth. Were they so confident of victory? "The humans you have stolen. Do they yet live?" Where were their pods??

"Of course it is, this whole thing is about you, and your kind!" That's the whole reason they're here on this planet!

Tsang's eyes kept flitting to the knife which seemed to be a paid actor in this whole scene, designed to catch the moonlight.

"S-stolen? No! Of course, they live. They are doing wonderful activities for their own betterment!"

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

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