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.]

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It's a magnificent, but very, uh, round self-portrait, meaning the creator was, well, multifaceted and not at all (AT ALL) shy. See the power of art therapy to disclose inner reality!

And right now Tsang's inner reality is a little panicky, because that's an airborne glitter bomb which is getting prismatic rainbow glitter literally everywhere.

Thank whatever Divine Oneness that Tsang was still wearing its human suit, or that glitter would get stuck in its emotive spines for EVER. As it was, Tsang's separate and very nonhuman secondary eyelids blinked to protect its eyes from the colorful shiny onslaught.

And then it thought the worst thought ever: Could this day get any worse?

Worse, you say? Rakia had managed to get his Granute ass up into space by continuing to pose as a human, at which point he'd dropped the human guise and shifted to his Granute form to give himself the chance to move about the ship more freely. He quickly determined that wantonly kidnapping humans was Not Good especially in light of the information he had that humans apparently taste better when they're happy, and as such, he'd set about enacting a rescue plan.

Unfortunately, the only method he can think of to transport a large amount of humans easily is one he is loath to use, but he doesn't see a whole lot of options. He is a one-Granute rescue operation at this point, and he's hauling around a sack of Anthropresses he's collected as he furtively makes his way through the ship.

He...does not know how he is going to get them back to Earth. He hasn't thought this plan through that far. For now, he's fully in Granute form, locked into Rescue Mode, and just trying to kidnap as many already-kidnapped humans as he can.

And there is a hapless human talking to...that one weirdo from earlier, so...jackpot. A long red tongue lashes out from Rakia's midsection, wrapping itself around what he perceives as a totally innocent and harmless human in an attempt to yoink the human to safety and convert them into an Anthropress--

--but that is just the most glitter Rakia's ever encountered in his life and for whatever reason, something isn't working right so he's just got this poor guy dangling up in the air by a tongue. "...this sucks."

It’s a beautiful moment that ought to be frozen in time so it can be cherished forever. Festival’s eyes are full of glee as he turns his face upward in the shower of glitter. And then, unfortunately, his eyes are full of glitter, which is not as pleasant as hoped, and—

”—Oop!”

He’s suddenly gripped around the torso and hefted into the air, blinking gritty blinks as he tries to see his attacker, thinking for a moment the ‘art therapist’ has finally reached his limit. But no, it’s a—alright, he doesn’t know what that is, but he hasn’t known most of the races he’s encountered today.

Festival, not knowing this creature’s intent, starts up a full body squirm in an effort to get free. It’d be all but impossible for any ordinary creature to keep hold of him; he seems to know exactly how to shift his weight to off balance someone’s grip, how to twist and disentangle himself before one can adjust their hold on him.

That sound you hear? that sound like a bird section of a pet store where all the parakeets start chipping and chirping at once? That's Revanian screaming and that's what is happening from the excuse you, Festival but HIGHLY QUALIFIED art therapist!

It's not the art supplies. Those can be sorted (painstakingly) and put back, somewhat (no one will notice that the glitter is all mixed together, right?), it's the stranger! Whom Tsang does NOT recognize.

But it recovers after a few seconds, picking up some colored markers to hold in a....menacing(???) way. It MUST protect client confidentiality! It had thought threats would come from nosy people, and not, well, whatever that thing with far too many mouths was.

"Unha--unTONGUE my patient!" Sentences that it had never thought would be uttered.

"This sucks," Rakia sighs to himself under his breath--not in the least because he hadn't even encountered this much glitter dealing with Sachika back home and it is getting everywhere why is it like this why is it all over his second TONGUE--and then, more loudly, he says, "I'm taking this human back where he belongs!" Even as said human wriggles out of the tongue and the tongue reflexively recoils back, hesitant to retract fully because of the glitter. Also he figures it is probably intimidating to non-Granutes; anyone else would look at him like a complete fool.

He is also going to do this to that bag of them he's carrying but he is at least competent enough not to flaunt that. His assertion of rescue is accompanied by a look at poor Festival, like come on, bro, let's get going, you are being rescued, please do not resist the rescue as you somehow resisted the Anthropressing.

Those colored markers Tsang is holding in a menacing way are doing nothing. Rakia has been threatened by worse.

Ha, look who's still got it! Festival lands surprisingly gracefully and is back on his feet in a flash.

...Just in time to catch on that this is, in fact, a rescue. Maybe. Probably. And that's even more fun than art therapy! But he'll need to be properly distressed if he's to play the damsel, so he promptly wilts to the floor, crying out:

"Oh, save me! What fate awaits me, where do I belong in this cruel universe?"

Fight over him, pls, he gets a kick out of it.

The glitter is still falling--well, swirling now, really, in the sudden draft by the flung open door and all the...everything that is happening.

Tsang's duty was clear: to protect its patient. "He was doing therapy! He was exploring his internal landscape!" You're trying to rescue him from, what? Self actualization?!?

You MONSTER.

The markers don't look like much, but Tsang tosses them like small artistic darts, surprisingly accurately. Well, it's not like this room was that big. It tries to move in the way between them, bodily blocking this...anti-therapy advocate! "He was having fun here!" A little TOO much fun, perhaps? But definitely in the 'fun' category.

"And what happens after he has all that fun?" Rakia yells back as he raises a hand, a glowing blue tentacle emerging to swat away the markers-turned-darts. "I've seen what happens, and I will not stand for it!"

He is absolutely convinced he's found a human-farming organization hellbent on getting humans to peak happiness, peak flavor, that will then process them into some sort of cursed alien food, okay. He's trying to inch towards Festival for another tongue grab.

Look at them go! Festival makes no move to come within reach of either of the people attempting to rescue him from the other, staying down on the floor as markers and tentacles go flying overhead. Rakia will have no help from this quarter, but no apparent resistance, either.

"A puppet show comes next!" he exclaims. "Or was that all a lie?"

What even is that question? "He feels better about himself and can make better choices moving forward in life!!!" Things Tsang had never though it'd be YELLING at the top of its voice while throwing markers at a stranger. With tentacles. That's what happens after all the art therapy!

Because let's admit, getting kidnapped up here does not really represent a Good Life Choice for Festival.

It's running out of markers to chuck but there's another option: a pile of origami cranes.

Get CRANED!

"Like you're giving anyone any choices in taking them in the first place, or in what they do after!" Are...are the cranes supposed to be intimidating? Rakia might have made more of a show of blocking those if he didn't care about revealing all of his tricks, so he stoically tanked the crane onslaught. "This sucks." Mostly stoically tanked the crane onslaught.

"I'm taking you back home!" Rakia feints, moving towards the one claiming to be a therapist with his tongue before lunging at Festival, fully intending to just grab him by the waist and make a run for it. Granutes were plenty strong; carrying a single adult human would be nothing for him. If that attempt didn't work, he'd just strike the therapist with his tongue to see what happened. Better the tongue than one of those tentacles...

"Home? I have no home!" cries Festival, because it seems the most dramatic option at the moment.

Speaking of life choices, guess who's letting himself get double-kidnapped today? This guy! It's subtle, subtle enough that an onlooker might miss it, but Festival shifts his weight and sits up just so, making it easy for Rakia to get the grip he's looking for and pick Festival up.

"Save me from my life choices!" he adds, presumably as he's getting hoisted like a sack of potatoes. Whether it's Rakia or Tsang he's begging for help remains ambiguous.

Edited 2025-11-23 14:58 (UTC)

Oh, no, listen! The poor patient has no home! And yet he was participating ENTIRELY with his therapy plan and making So Much Progress!

Tsang would prefer that NO ONE get hit with a strange tongue--that sounds very much like a biohazard. And looks....well, it's not one to judge, with its own antennae and emotive spines, but that's entirely TOO many tongues.

"Leave him alone!" Is Tsang going to have to throw himself bodily in between the two? It sure looks like it. Will it be fast enough? Big question. But there's a flurry of origami cranes and a promise "I will not let you harm my patient!" Say what you will about art therapy--the therapist is willing to go the extra mile!

Edited (cat auto submitted) 2025-11-23 17:10 (UTC)

Now that Rakia's got Festival hoisted like a sack of potatoes, there is only one thing to do: run like hell. He will worry about the human's exact place of belonging later, because he figures he can narrow down "Earth" as probably a better place to start.

Thin blue tentacles appear to swat the cranes away, and he's focusing on one thing and one thing only: hauling ass with his bag of ~~acrylic photo stands~~ Anthropressed rescued humans and the one weird human he couldn't add to that collection.

“My her—oof-o!”

Alright, maybe he should have let himself be counter-rescued (double counter-rescued?) because this is an uncomfortable ride. But it seems Tsang isn’t quite fast enough and the two are off in a flurry of glitter and crumpled paper cranes.

“But where can we hide in this terrible ship of—hrf, careful!—of theirs?”

He’d probably be a lot less amused if he knew Rakia was carrying a bunch of soul-trapped humans, but what Festival doesn’t know can’t hurt him, at least for now.

Tsang isn't sure what hit it: a tentacle? A tongue? Something else? There are things that sometimes it's better off not knowing the answer to and this was, it thought, perhaps one of those times. All it knew was that it was pushed off its feet, its double handful of glitter-coated cranes flying up like little origami exclamation points.

There was no way Tsang could get back on its feet to pursue, so as the two run away, all they hear from the threshold is a soft voice, "Remember to feel your feelings, friend!" and if they look back it's just a rain of glitter and paper and sadness.

Once Rakia feels they're an appropriate distance away from Tsang and whatever the hell the art room was, he stops running and lets Festival down. This is not the sort of rescue where he plans on carrying the rescued party around like a sack of potatoes. Carrying a sackful of Anthropressed humans is one already-uncomfortable thing. Carrying around a random glitter-covered human is another thing entirely. "We're not going to hide for long. We're going to steal a ship." He sounds more confident than he feels; it is easier to just wing a plan when you're not actually having to explain yourself to anyone.

Poor thing; if Festival wasn’t looking to hitch a ride out of this place he’d make a mental note to show up and let Tsang try to therapy him some more. It had seemed to be doing the alien a lot of good.

He’s glad to be set down and immediately adjusts his clothing to un-rumple himself, shedding more glitter in the process. It’s truly everywhere; his hair and short beard are especially glittery.

“A ship? Like a life raft?” Because strange as a ship for the void may be, it makes sense for it to have such a thing. Festival grins, immediately on board. “A brilliant plan! Only, there are so many others here who need rescuing as well before we go.”

"Something like that." He shifts that bag he's holding. "I've rescued more than just you; if we find a little shuttle, we should be able to get everyone back down." He starts walking in the direction he thinks they need to go, once again wondering why the Anthropressing process hadn't worked on this guy. He sighs. "It's gonna suck, but if anyone tries to drag you back there, I'll take care of them."

The hints are there, but Festival still doesn’t yet make the connection between the bag and those already rescued. It would be rather a leap even for someone from a magical world like his own.

“Why should it be so terrible? You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

It's going to be horrible because it is already horrible and he has already done things he hates, but he doesn't want to admit that and says, "I might have to do some stuff I'll regret to get us out safely. You'll be fine." He, on the other hand, will have to live with his actions and the self-loathing that comes from hitting the unwary with his feel-good toxins. Such is life.

He jiggles the bag. "Oi, go scout ahead." A familiar little pudding thing hops out of the bag and chatters at him. "Yeah. We'll be right behind you. But come right back if you see anyone else."

"--Oh! My tall friend!"

Look who recognizes the pudding when he didn't recognize his rescuer! Not that Festival is particularly recognizable at the moment himself. Some of his facade drops as he begins to get a little worried about the direction of this conversation.

"...How much regret are we talking about?"

Rakia seemed startled at that recognition, but then he pointed at Festival. "The little furry guy! I didn't realize you had a human form, too." Probably why the Anthropressing hadn't worked. Then again, interacting with this much glitter really did feel hideous.

He waves Festival's concern away. "I'm not going to kill anyone, if that's what you're worried about."

"There are far worse things than death," sing-songs Festival glibly. "And yes, unfortunately I find myself rather hairless at the moment. I do think the jawline is fetching, though, don't you?"

Because in the middle of a rescue-escape is the time to discuss his physical beauty, right?

"The only one suffering would be me bearing the psychological strain of what I've had to do." Rakia sighs. That probably made it sound weirder. "Sometimes, people enjoy it when I incapacitate them." One way of putting it. He tilts his head to one side. "Humans are all kind of weird-looking, so I'll take your word on the jawline thing." Whatever floats your boat and distracts you from the question of how Rakia might incapacitate people, bud.

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

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that icon has me officially deceased

just a perfect energy

He persists in participating!!

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