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unfinishedlibrary2025-11-14 08:20 am
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2025-11-14 08:20 am
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.]
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.]
no subject
Using the knowledge he gained on their injuries, he commands one of the arms to apply pressure onto a wound on the other's arm. More of a distraction to their senses while he places his attention on his other injuries. The jacket needs to come off, so does their shirt. A challenge while the other keeps fighting back.
Another mechanical arm joins the fray, grabbing his jacket from the below and lifting it upwards. The other arms try to grab hold of Shadow's, lifting them upwards for ease of the jacket and shirt coming off. In theory anyway. That depends on Shadow's cooperation or lack there of.]
no subject
You're supposed to buy him dinner first, Zarnex--If these arms weren't mechanical, they would have been bitten by now. As it is, they're currently experiencing a very human problem. Have you ever tried to change an angry toddler's shirt? It's that, but levelled up to the existential anger and fear of a feral teen fighting for their life.
He's absolutely covered in scrapes and bruises - scabs from last week's mishaps healing up here and there, everything you'd expect from someone who lives and breathes perfecting risky tricks at the skate park. But the pressure to a fresh scrape does not outweigh the very instinctual need to keep his internal organs inside, and the sting of blossoming blood as he wrenches in the arm's grip is ignored. There is absolutely 0 cooperation happening - Shadow crossing his arms, trapping one arm against his chest; locking the other forearm under the opposite armpit. Functionally a front-bind.]
Why don't you do this yourself? [Says the out of breath, huffing and puffing, absolutely-not-in-the-right-position-to-be-shittalking teen. He's pressing as much weight as he can onto the drone beneath his foot, the rolling motion somewhat grounding; and he scoffs, breathless.] Scared I'll kick your ass again?
[do him a favour and ignore the tremor in his limbs. Bravado is all he has left.]
no subject
I have no interest in picking a fight with you. [Stop the arms and drones all he wants. There's more of those and one of him. His eyes gives the other a once over, staring at the injuries the other has sustain, older ones not from their tussle. Just as one of the drones that was working on his own injury finishes healing his foot, he sends that drone in to start work on what injuries he can reach with the other.] Would you quit squirming? You're going to give yourself new injuries.
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You're a coward. [It's hard to snarl out a good rebuttal when there are more mechanical arms trying to wrestle your jacket off you. And when you're trying to jerk away from a drone that's hovering in front of your eyes, shining a hot light on the aching bump on your forehead from someone's hard skull.
Having a drone lined up with your head in this sort of situation is never a good thing, and Shadow's eyes flinch closed to instinctively brace himself. The bot beep boops, and hot stinging commences. No matter how he turns his head away, the drone follows; the heat from its laser not losing target.
Is it telling, that what he thinks are his last thoughts, are that old man better take care of Charles and Mitch is gonna be so pissed and we never got to see the aurora - 'we', in that case, being as a group with his particularly dysfunctional 'found family' unit (as Mitch would put it).
Weirdly, the dark of unconsciousness and/or death does not come. Instead the stinging turns to a tingle, which fades and takes the ache with it as the drone moves away.
Leaving Shadow to squint his eyes open dubiously, unsure about what the hell just happened, and with the newfound baggage of having to eventually unpack those 'final thoughts' of his later.]
no subject
Having regrets? [He retorts, ignoring their insults. During the other's moment of confusion, an arm will grab him by the leg that has the drone still stuck underneath his foot. It will attempt to lift him up, effectively flipping him upside down. Hope he doesn't have anything lose on him as he's shaken slightly. If the mechanical arms are freed from the other's grasp, they will once again, try to strip him.]
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He won't admit to it, but the noise that comes out of him when he's yanked upside down can only be described as a yelp - affronted and insulted as it is, his dignity absolutely trashed. The back of his jacket flops down, hitting the back of his head with a resounding thwap; and as he's shaken (like he owes these arms money or something), his phone starts to jostle loose in the pocket of his pants. It hangs precariously for a moment, the tight fit almost keeping it secure, but one more good shake sends it tumbling to the platform with a clatter.
He doesn't free up his own arms to catch it, instead trying to fend off the machines as they try to tug at his shirt and jacket. He even makes an attempt to lift himself up towards his legs - and succeeds, bending up and forward - but when he tries to grab the arms holding his legs, the stupid goddamn slime causes him to immediately lose his grip. And in the process - he finally loses the battle against the machines trying to capture his arms. (Though not without a fight, jerking his arm out of one machine's grip for a brief second before it's recaptured, pulling him back down.)
Huffing and puffing again, one last attempt to kick his leg out of a solid metal grip - and it's pretty clear he's not getting out of this one. As if to cement it, even his shirt flops lamely down; him having to shake his head loose from the fabric gathering over his face.]
Why are you doing this? What's the point? [F in the chat to his jacket, and for the chill of the air when his shirt's yanked off (at which time he makes another futile bid to evade re-capture, turning away from the mechanical arms. Alas. It was never going to work.) At least his glare's no longer obstructed, face and neck reddening from the upside down blood flow.] If you want to know what's inside a human, pick up a damn book -- we've already figured it out.
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To assess you actually have a will to live. [One of the drone comes down to scoop up the phone that had fallen, to bring it over to Zernax.] You're certainly a strange one. [His tone is level, lacking actual threat and speaking as if this was just another talk in the office. He holds Shadow's phone in his hand, all the while pressing something on his panel to command the drones to work on the bruises and wounds on the other's now exposed body.]
no subject
[He picks his head up, giving the alien a disbelieving look for his justification. Right before flinching as heat pricks and stings on his back, alarm rising as a disconcerting number of beeps come from far too many drones.]
That doesn't make any sense.
[He's got half an eye on a long yellowed bruise low on his ribs, where he'd lost traction on a grind last week and caught the railing with his chest on the way down - and his eyes widen when a drone targets it. The scan happens, the beeps sound - and the heat comes, skin stinging. And right in front of him, the bruise starts to fade; seemingly erased under the continuous, wide sweeps of the drone's laser.
Someone would say something's wrong with him for it, but there is the distinct feeling of being impressed as he watches the drone work, a sense of wonder despite himself. Breath caught not because of fear for the moment (--though that's there too, he can't forget he's going to be dissected, every prick across his skin feels like a needle just waiting to dig itself in and start peeling away; his heart jumping a few beats with every sting), but simply from the marvel that it is. (Imagine what that technology could do, if only the alien wielding it weren't such a monumental bastard.)]
no subject
Why would I be repairing you if I wanted to dissect you? I just said that to be funny. You humans are really fascinated at the concept of other beings dissecting you. [He waves his hand lazily while his eyes are on the video he finds in the phone. huh. He had the files on this human already about their life and hobbies, but it's more interesting to see it in action.] And abducting cows. I don't understand that.
no subject
And, now. It could be all the blood rushing to his head, or maybe Shadow's starting to lose the fucking plot. But did Zernax really just say that.
Zernax might feel Shadow's emotions abruptly stall out. A weird blankness setting in for a long moment.
...And then confusion, underpinned by a hot anger (because this alien is messing with him), underpinned by (still) that concernworryfear (because this alien is messing with him). With a healthy mix of bullheaded indignation (because in case it was missed the first two times: the alien is fucking messing with him).]
You need to get your head checked. [He's seething. Either Zernax is lying about the dissection or he's lying about the intent to not dissect him. Shadow's pissed about it either way.] If you're really not doing it, then put me down.
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Why would I do that when you're being difficult? [Most of his attention is still on his phone as he goes through it some more. He finds what they've been doing on the network. An entire dedicated to extraterrestrials. Huh. What do they talk about on these sites?]
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Hey Siri. [The phone beeps in acknowledgement.] Shut down.
[He hates using voice commands as a general rule, somethingsomething government and corporations always listening in, but this is a special situation. The situation being: 🖕 as he glares upside-down at his captor.]
[The phone in Zernax's hand boops obligingly. He might get to see that the forum post is discussing an unidentified object hanging out just out of Earth's orbit. There are some grainy, amateur photos taken through the lens of someone's telescope. Some forum posters are referring to it as space debris, others are calling it a spaceship, and there seems to be a lot of shade being thrown at the government for not having released anything about it. The admin account that's logged in on the phone has been tagged and asked if they've seen it - to which Shadow's responded with a screenshot of the weather report for the week, thick clouds predicted all the way through. There's a mention of a cover-up operation clearly being in progress, and following that, speculation about whether this might be the first official and maybe eventually publicised first contact.
The object they're discussing is probably not the Radiance. But Shadow was never going to be dissuaded from believing it is, especially not now.]
no subject
His anteannae twitch when the other calls a name. Siri? He blinks as the phone in his hand reacts and proceeds to shut down. Huh. They figured out voice activation at least. He lifts the device.] Hey Siri, turn on. [...Well, if that doesn't work, there should be a button he just needs to hold down to turn it back on, right? The machine behind him starts to speak in that robotic alien language voice once more. He glances toward his captor, he has been upside down for longer than he should.
He commands a set of arms to grab Shadow by theirs, and gradually turns them upright once more. As this is happening, he'll move to stand, pocketing Shadow's phone and approach the cage. It's a bit unsettling when he's still got a human head attached to a tall alien body. He says nothing though, just observing the human, searching. Were there still any injuries he had missed?]
no subject
If Zernax does turn the phone back on at some point, it won't be long before Shadow's telling it to turn off again. If he keeps doing it, eventually Shadow will take a page out of Charles' book and tell it to play whatever internet earworm he last remembers downloading.
As for the injuries - Shadow would say they're more than done. If Zernax tries to take off his pants to get to anything on his legs, there's going to be a whole second fight about it.
Or, y'know, Zernax could release him and let him use the drones himself--But aside from breathing out heavily through his nose as he's slowly righted - leaving him with a woozy sensation as blood abruptly rushes back down - Shadow sure isn't letting on about anything, meeting the alien's disconcerting stare with a scowl. The head that Zernax is wearing is no longer an exact mirror of the teen; whose hair has fallen from its spikes to a more... 'upward' disarray, face and chest and neck still reddened as bloodflow starts to return to normal. But with that aside, from looking at Shadow, you wouldn't know about the hairs prickling on the back of his neck or the anxious twisting in his stomach. For all outward appearances, his demeanour can easily be summed up as - bring it on. A false front if ever there was one.]
no subject
No, you've been naughty.The mechanical arms do be hovering over his legs for a moment. Two drones fly above Shadow as they do one final full body scan of Shadow. Zernax looks at a tablet he had pulled out of somewhere, seeing what data the drones provide.]...I suppose this will do. [There are some minor scraps on the other's leg, some new, mostly old. But they will function despite them. The mechanical arms fully release Shadow, allowing them to stand on their own two feet. Or sit, whatever works for them.] Your feelings betray you're little bravado display. [He says absently while looking at the information on his tablet, pressing and moving information around.] I already told you I have no interest in fighting you.
no subject
Fair call, he probably would've thrown one at him.There's agitation prickling at him as the mechanical arms hover around his legs - he's prepared to put up a fight again, even if he breaks or dislocates something in the process.
The relief when he's released instead is palpable. His legs are wobbly when he's set to stand on his own bare feet, exhaustion from so much struggling taking its toll. (and blood flow still settling, and adrenaline ebbing away, and--- look, is it any surprise he's a bit jelly right now??) He's feeling weirdly unbalanced without some sort of wheels beneath him, grasping one of the laser-bars behind him for casual support. Narrowing his eyes at Zernax when he comments on Shadow's feelings, like he knows anything about them. Is that what those antennae are for? Is he reading Shadow's mind?
(And why are these bars solid for him, but anything else seems to have no trouble passing through? He'd think it's programmed to go around the tech, but his phone.)
He did lose track of his shirt and jacket. Are those still in the cage with him? He's not exactly looking around, trying instead to see what Zernax is doing with that tablet.]
You say a lot. How am I supposed to know which parts you mean? [Still on edge from the dissection threat, still hasn't ruled it out.]
no subject
Parts...? Well, my scanners indicate you still have some injuries on your legs. Negligible. [Is that what he meant? Eitherway, if the other doesn't want to cooperate, he isn't going to bother with the small stuff. His things are still in there with him. His shoes are neatly set to the side along with his jacket and shirt placed on top of them. For him to gather whenever he wants.
A seat slides up behind Zernax as he settles himself infront of the cage. That human head disguise drops, returning to his full alien appearance. He takes a deep breath, knowing he what he has to go through now. Boring stuff.] As you deduced earlier, I was supposed to temporarily pretend to be you, while you are under assessment by the council.
no subject
He's definitely going to get dressed, but this is the closest Zernax has been to him without a disguise and with actual lighting -- and without the distraction of fighting for his life, Shadow's stare is intense on him between retrieving his clothes. Pointed ears and a rounded head - are Zernax's people the inspiration behind elves? The twitch of antennae, the red streaks that almost reflect the dye in Shadow's hair. (Is it natural? Do all of Zernax's species have similar patterns? Or is this an aesthetic choice he's made?) The flowing clothing - like a robe or gown, intricately embroidered. (What is it made out of? How did both of their worlds come to the same decorative choices for clothes? Is Shadow right, and so much of Earth's culture has been influenced by interstellar visitors?)
If the teen is bothered by being assessed by a council, there's no sign of it as he pulls his t-shirt back over his head. He's been living under the assumption that he's constantly being monitored by the government anyway, it's actually kind of cool that the aliens want in on it too. As long as Zernax is actually being truthful about anything.
But he does scoff, at the mention of pretending to be him. There's a strong feeling of derision cutting through everything else. As cool as the alien is in his actual form, Zernax has absolutely no hope of passing as the teen.]
no subject
You have questions. [He may not be saying it, but his body language is a tell.] And you have doubts. [Where those doubts lie, he has not determined.]
no subject
[Pulling his jacket back on, the fluff of it brushing his chin as he settles it over his shoulders. He's starting to feel more normal already with its familiar weight, though it's a false sense of security.
He can't go for his socks and shoes without breaking the stare-down, so he doesn't make for them just yet; folding his arms instead.]
This is Earth, a planet of opportunities. You obviously have the technology to do whatever you want here. And you chose to waste your time fixing bruises.
[There's a condescending edge to that - like he can't believe all that struggle was over just healing up some scrapes. Which, to be fair, was really awesome (--the healing, not the manhandling). But they were hardly an issue, and he's going to be getting them back as soon as he hits the skate park again.]
Why?
no subject
Need I remind you that you decided not to let me leave and thus wasted my time having to patch you up. [A pointed look. Although...the one he's apparently suppose to assume should have already been taken. He starts going through the documents once more on his tablet.] The council isn't interested in what your planet has to offer anyway, just the health of it's...higher intelligent inhabits. [His brows furrow as he slides through the files. This is rather odd. There should be something about the boy in front of him, but he can't find any information. He looks up from his tablet, and leans forward slightly in his seat.] Who are you?
no subject
It's good to know he counts as higher intelligence. But he's agitated about that, because--] What about our hospitals? If you want to look at health, then start with the people who need the help.
[Not answering that question about himself. Not really for any reason other than he's still pissed off. But he does approach the bars nearest the alien (the swooping in his stomach is equal parts exhiliration and the sort of anticipation that rides the line between excitement and anxiety. what kind of idiot approaches the alien who abducted them?), ignoring the goosebumps prickling along his skin to wrap his hands around the bars - loathsome goo making his grip slide - to stare down at Zernax in his seat. Nodding to the tablet the alien's been so obsessed with.]
What does it say about me?
[And what can he see on it from here?]
no subject
Zernax continues to watch as they approach the bars, eyes blinking unevenly. His antannae swerve slightly, feeling those "butterflies" in the other's stomach.]
Nothing. [He says simply.] I have nothing on you. You do not seem to...exist. [He tilts his head, giving the other a curious look. Of intrigue.] Hold up your hands, unless you like having goo on them.
no subject
He's fixated on that uneven blink, the twitches and tilts of Zernax's antennae - he's pretty sure the alien is not an actual telepath, otherwise he wouldn't need to ask Shadow anything about himself. (It's a bit disappointing to rule that out, but telepathy is pretty close to 'magic' anyway. Shadow would have to rethink some of his stances on Charles' stories if it turned out to be a real thing.)]
I'm redacted. [And telepathy would be a nice thing for Shadow to have right now, to figure out whether he's about to lose a hand here. Sceptical, he holds up his left hand - watching carefully for whatever Zernax will do. If it all goes smoothly, then he'll hold up his right without a fuss. Meanwhile explaining, flat and honest in his belief:] The government probably wiped your files as soon as you pinged off their satellites. They don't want anything about me getting out.
I'm just a blacked-out line in their reports. A ghost of the past reduced to a shadow in their systems. They wouldn't want you to have anything more than they do.
[While some of that is accurate - he's not wrong about the redacted records - there certainly is an amount of teenage melodrama involved. Because, you know, most people's first thought would be 'typo in my name' rather than 'government conspiracy'.]
no subject
[Is their information truly hidden away...? Well, if the government is involved, he should be able to look into it.] Why is that? [Their physiology seem standard for a human when he scanned them. Seeing as the other isn't willing to bring up both hands, he'll just send a drone in anywy. It proceeds to spray some kind of foam over their slimed covered hand. Shadow will feel the slime harden and then start to crumble up into pieces, falling apart and onto the floor.]
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