Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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unfinishedlibrary2025-12-12 07:10 pm
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2025-12-12 07:10 pm
The real alien abduction... LIBRARY RETURN LOG
Who: The Editors, and the Assistants
What: Library Return!
When: At the end of the Story
Where: The Library
Content warnings: Please put content warnings in the headers!
It’s been an eventful month in Woodhurst! The alleged alien abductions have caused tourism to absolutely boom. What was a small, peaceful town a few weeks ago has turned into a bustling hub. There are claims that the local bookstore has been run by an alien for the last 20-odd years - met only with mutters from the locals about having heard that one before - and a plethora of people taking to the internet to tell the stories of their own abductions.
With the return of most of the humans to Earth, the Wellbeing Group have recalled their agents to the SS Radiance. With a few exceptions, almost everyone should be back to where they were on that first day - November 14th, 2019. It turns out that the humans of Earth just aren’t ready for the Group’s efforts. Perhaps there’s something to be said for following protocol and allowing First Contact to be established… well, first.
Amongst all the chaos of reunions and goodbyes, Editors may miss the signs of the Story ending. It starts slowly, ramping up over a matter of hours. The smell of old books tickles at their senses, and the rustling of pages reaches their ears. There’s something like the scritch of pen on paper, like a bookmark being placed.
And then, between one slow blink and the next, Woodhurst and the SS Radiance begin to fuzz out of view. Like rubbing your eyes after a dream, the Stacks take shape around them; and with the thud of a hardcover closing, the Story comes to an end.
Welcome back, Editors
For some, recovering from the effects of the Story might be as easy as turning a page. For others, there might be a lot left to unpack. Readers - those who had remained themselves during the Story - will likely find it easier. Those who were Actors, fully absorbed in living another life, may need a minute to sort themselves out.
The Library itself seems to have some trouble shaking off the Story in full. Here and there are the same floral arrangements that had been on the Radiance, the scent of them much weaker now. There’s an echo of soothing music in the air, faint as if it’s fading out. And wherever these flowers can be smelled or the music can be heard, there’s an urge that is felt – a lowering of one’s barriers, a soothing sense of safety, and a compulsion to express oneself. So go on. Ask and answer the question. How does that make you feel?
The customary tea cart is set up in the Lobby again. It looks like it’s just recently been put out, with weak tea still only starting to steep. The coffee is as terrible as ever. Mismatched creamers and sugar packets sit in a neatly organised box, with a tin of butter cookies nearby. Paper cups have been replaced by ceramics with matching saucers, dainty napkins just waiting to be used.
Notably, there is no phone provided. Instead there is a sign:
Please direct all complaints to the Help Desk.
The Help Desk itself is along one wall of the Lobby. The large window, previously closed and locked, is now open. The ‘back in 5’ sign is gone, replaced by one that instructs you to ‘please take a number’. A stack of cards with bold numbers printed on them sits beneath it.
And behind that window, sitting at the Help Desk, is someone whose voice may have only been heard over the phone until now. He will not be assisting anyone who approaches out of turn, so you should get comfortable mingling while you wait.
Perhaps in the hopes that some people will get distracted and wander away, there is a poster next to the Help Desk window.
Skills 101
Learn from the best the Library has to offer!
Join the study group in Meeting Room 1.
No food or drinks permitted.
In case anyone would like to avoid the Assistants as much as possible, or would like something else to do after yelling at them, there is another display that can be found periodically outside one of the doors of rotating locations. It says ‘Seed Library’ and, as the name implies, has little packets of seeds that are available! When seen outside the door, it will always lead to the garden. Time to get your hands dirty!
Interestingly, it seems the garden seems to follow the same general rules as the rest of the library- whatever someone expects the weather or season to be is what will be reflected in that outside space, with a sunrise/set pattern to match. When two or more people with different ideas of what it should be occupy the space, however, it gets… muddled.
And for those with hands just itching to express themselves with violence… the Safe Zone awaits. The Library’s safety mechanism triggers as damage is registered, whether to an Editor or a piece of the Library. As if in anticipation of some long stays, the previously-empty yacht does now have a few creature comforts. Food, drinks, a place to rest. Just try not to extend your stay too long or your more peaceful friends might start to wonder where you’ve gone.
What: Library Return!
When: At the end of the Story
Where: The Library
Content warnings: Please put content warnings in the headers!
It’s been an eventful month in Woodhurst! The alleged alien abductions have caused tourism to absolutely boom. What was a small, peaceful town a few weeks ago has turned into a bustling hub. There are claims that the local bookstore has been run by an alien for the last 20-odd years - met only with mutters from the locals about having heard that one before - and a plethora of people taking to the internet to tell the stories of their own abductions.
With the return of most of the humans to Earth, the Wellbeing Group have recalled their agents to the SS Radiance. With a few exceptions, almost everyone should be back to where they were on that first day - November 14th, 2019. It turns out that the humans of Earth just aren’t ready for the Group’s efforts. Perhaps there’s something to be said for following protocol and allowing First Contact to be established… well, first.
Amongst all the chaos of reunions and goodbyes, Editors may miss the signs of the Story ending. It starts slowly, ramping up over a matter of hours. The smell of old books tickles at their senses, and the rustling of pages reaches their ears. There’s something like the scritch of pen on paper, like a bookmark being placed.
And then, between one slow blink and the next, Woodhurst and the SS Radiance begin to fuzz out of view. Like rubbing your eyes after a dream, the Stacks take shape around them; and with the thud of a hardcover closing, the Story comes to an end.
Welcome back, Editors
For some, recovering from the effects of the Story might be as easy as turning a page. For others, there might be a lot left to unpack. Readers - those who had remained themselves during the Story - will likely find it easier. Those who were Actors, fully absorbed in living another life, may need a minute to sort themselves out.
The Library itself seems to have some trouble shaking off the Story in full. Here and there are the same floral arrangements that had been on the Radiance, the scent of them much weaker now. There’s an echo of soothing music in the air, faint as if it’s fading out. And wherever these flowers can be smelled or the music can be heard, there’s an urge that is felt – a lowering of one’s barriers, a soothing sense of safety, and a compulsion to express oneself. So go on. Ask and answer the question. How does that make you feel?
The customary tea cart is set up in the Lobby again. It looks like it’s just recently been put out, with weak tea still only starting to steep. The coffee is as terrible as ever. Mismatched creamers and sugar packets sit in a neatly organised box, with a tin of butter cookies nearby. Paper cups have been replaced by ceramics with matching saucers, dainty napkins just waiting to be used.
Notably, there is no phone provided. Instead there is a sign:
The Help Desk itself is along one wall of the Lobby. The large window, previously closed and locked, is now open. The ‘back in 5’ sign is gone, replaced by one that instructs you to ‘please take a number’. A stack of cards with bold numbers printed on them sits beneath it.
And behind that window, sitting at the Help Desk, is someone whose voice may have only been heard over the phone until now. He will not be assisting anyone who approaches out of turn, so you should get comfortable mingling while you wait.
Perhaps in the hopes that some people will get distracted and wander away, there is a poster next to the Help Desk window.
Learn from the best the Library has to offer!
Join the study group in Meeting Room 1.
No food or drinks permitted.
In case anyone would like to avoid the Assistants as much as possible, or would like something else to do after yelling at them, there is another display that can be found periodically outside one of the doors of rotating locations. It says ‘Seed Library’ and, as the name implies, has little packets of seeds that are available! When seen outside the door, it will always lead to the garden. Time to get your hands dirty!
Interestingly, it seems the garden seems to follow the same general rules as the rest of the library- whatever someone expects the weather or season to be is what will be reflected in that outside space, with a sunrise/set pattern to match. When two or more people with different ideas of what it should be occupy the space, however, it gets… muddled.
And for those with hands just itching to express themselves with violence… the Safe Zone awaits. The Library’s safety mechanism triggers as damage is registered, whether to an Editor or a piece of the Library. As if in anticipation of some long stays, the previously-empty yacht does now have a few creature comforts. Food, drinks, a place to rest. Just try not to extend your stay too long or your more peaceful friends might start to wonder where you’ve gone.
no subject
Likely not the case here; even if this fellow is from a world with no concept of the undead, or a different concept, and hasn't clocked Illarion for one immediately -- getting that close likely would not be comforting. And might let on he's not breathing, and not warm.
He leans hipshot against the upright of the bunk instead, shifting his gaze to a point somewhere out in the room. Being polite -- not threatening with his eyes.
"'A possible future,'" he echoes, thoughtfully. (And echoes: His voice sounds ... wrong ... for the enclosed, muted space of the bunk room. Like he's standing somewhere much bigger.) "Not used to hearing that one. Things going as bad as they did in the past, or worse than they did -- that's more usual.
"You a diviner?"
He couldn't -- no, not couldn't. Doesn't want to remember if Esfir ever confessed anything to him about her divinations crossing into her nightmares. But he wouldn't be surprised if they could.
Shadowbringers Spoilers
As for the rest... "Of the past, yes. The future, no." That's not his blessing, that's Mikoto's. And she doesn't find it much use, in any case. He looks at the man... there's something odd about him, but his mind is too frazzled at the moment to figure out what.
"The dead bodies don't bother me - well. Anymore." The first time he saw a man he killed personally he had a bit of a minor meltdown before being pushed to the next task. And then the bodies in the Waking Sands... the ones he'd held personally will never leave him, but there's been so many bodies in his past. "They probably should." He'll carry that weight as long as he lives. Longer, maybe. "It's turning into something that I don't want to be that bothers me. Both literally and metaphorically."
holds out my arms for spoilers, unlikely to play myself
Like how humans seemed to be almost everywhere.
"You soldier for long enough, they will stop bothering you the same way they did. Or you get out of soldiering," he points out.
"What's put you on that path? Can't be just losing your sensitivity to death."
no subject
The path... "The turning into what I didn't want to be? ... Absorbing the light aether from gigantic monsters. It cleaned up the area, but all of that light nearly made me turn into a monster myself." He clenches his fingers around the side of the bed. "And if I had died I would have likely still ruined things, releasing all that aether." But no, maybe that's not what he meant.
"I do things that no one else can do. Or wants to do. By becoming strong enough to take them on, I've also become most peoples' only option when things go catastrophically wrong." He's made himself useful enough to be indispensable, essentially.
bwuhhh this got buried; thank you for your patience!
Elves, after all, had made themselves indispensable to their successor races.
And nearly went extinct for it.
"'Have to protect people,'" he echoes. "What's holding you to that? Oaths? Threats?"
Maybe the former. Unlikely the latter. Most likely -- "Not wanting to think of yourself as a man who abandons the helpless?"
no subject
Probably similar to what happened the last time he tried to take a ‘vacation’. “I want to help people, I do. I just don’t know how long I’m going to be able to do it.”
no subject
There was only so much one person -- or one people -- could do to help, unsupported, before they collapsed.
"Then you make a hard decision before Lady Death decides for you, and them." His tone's not sympathetic -- but not condemning, either. It is a difficult place to be and he had been there, with all his people; he simply hasn't any emotions about that correspondence any longer.
"What options do you have?" A pause, and then, because it likely bears elaborating: "Not just the ones you'd feel are acceptable. All of them, including walking away."
no subject
He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, an expression not his own. He can feel both the voidsent and Ardbert in his soul ‘step back’ in discomfort as he feels a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. It’s not really there, of course - not in any dimension other than his own mind.
‘Didn’t I once tell you that you should walk away? These undeserving shites…’ But there’s no malice in the ‘voice’, and Nara’a is so used to it that he doesn’t even visibly react. “… Walk away. Let myself be taken over and turned into something else. Keep helping people until I die. Take breaks, even if I don’t know how. I… I don’t know what else.”
He can feel Ardbert turning to him in his mind, and while he can’t hear a clear voice he can sense what he means anyway. ‘You’re not going to give up. We’re too alike. I gave up everything including myself to help others, to help you find a way to fix things. I know you well enough to know you’re not that kind of person.’
no subject
He's not unfamiliar with the ticks of those listening to something not present. It reminds him of that, though without any baseline for this not-sphinx ... No way to tell.
It's tucked away with so much else of this conversation. "Why can't anyone else do what you do?" Though if he's important enough to his world that the Thief somehow hasn't taken him yet after multiple attempts, this could verge on meddling in the gods' affairs.
no subject
How does he explain the ancient world and its Sundering? ... He has to at least try. "My star - what others might call a 'world' - is... a part of what used to be a whole. And the souls on that whole were split along with the rest of reality on our star. And there was a council who ruled that star, once upon a time. The one who was the Traveler, their soul... became mine. Or the better part of it, anyway." He shouldn't get into the Rejoinings at the moment, that's... even more of a lot.
"The seat of Azem, the Traveler... people were charged with a duty when they were put on this council. So I think... that was somewhat passed on to me. That star doesn't exist in the same way as it did. It never will again." Not if he can help it. "But people still need help. I can summon others to help in dire need, but it's... still a lot just on me."