for all the world's a stage - LIBRARY LOG

[libraryassistants]

Who: The Editors
What: The Library changes once again...
When: January 9- January 22
Where: The Library
Content warnings: Please put them in the comment headers!

The Assistants have vanished into their backroom once again, leaving only the increasingly unbelievable “Back In 5” sign on the Help Desk, but at least they have attempted to impart some knowledge on the Editors before departing (or… attempted to do anything but, depending who you ask). The customary tea cart with drinks and increasingly stale biscuits is parked in its usual spot, though it seems that the quality of the tea at least has improved some. (Still waiting on coffee improvement.)

There’s a new crafting setup in the Maker Space, a table with an iron and machine for making vinyl designs, along with the instructions on how to use it, and a stack of t-shirts in various sizes. Usually there’s something in the correct size, but, well, mistakes happen. While this addition to clothing is a boon, there is the problem that the t-shirts can’t be taken out of the room until some sort of design is put on them. Get creative! Show off your style! Or maybe just steal one of the shirts that are there for display purposes. It’s fine, the Library can make more.

In the second week as the Library begins to change once more, the Lobby’s wooden floor shines with extra polish. The walls make an odd creaking sound as they shift, warping into brick covered with velvet drapings in a rich, dark red. Gold thread twinkles in the stitches, a sense of opulence woven through. The sound of ballroom music drifts by and, while in the Lobby, characters will be taken by the unusual impulse to dance.

Outside, in the Garden, the day/night cycle has paused firmly on a cloudless night. A full moon hangs in the air - literally. About the size of a basketball, it follows the first person who enters the Garden; hovering a couple of meters above their head. A white aura spreads from them, powered by the moon, and those who are caught in its light will find themselves unable to speak anything but the truth.

When the person to whom the moon is attached leaves the garden, the moon and its aura will leave them; and the moon will attach to the next person to enter instead.

On the circulation desk, there is a sign: “This Week’s Recommended Reading: Twilight!” The accompanying sign up sheet waits next to it for those wishing to check it out- though some will receive the movie instead of the book, with no particular rhyme or reason to it. Periodically someone might also receive something else entirely. Whoops? The Assistants at least will fix that quickly. Richard will be embarrassed, while Phillip will be trying not to cackle.

While not advertised, various iterations of different stories will be available throughout the Library. In particular, someone seems to have left the projector in one of the meeting rooms running, with a variety of different recorded plays. These range from professional productions, to parodies, to what appear to be high schoolers (of which one production features a sixteen year old version of Phillip running around being an absolutely nuisance.

Comments

[juniorarchivist]

The glance imp and dragon exchange when Lucifer says he doesn't know what the Legion is, is unreadable. The moment passes quickly, replaced by alarm. "You can tell??" The clawed, fanged, horned, dragon-eyed creature who hasn't even bothered to hide the nature of his soul because it didn't occur to him sounds AWFULLY shocked that anyone can tell he's actually a dragon, that's what the disguise is for! "Don't tell anyone! Stop saying it! Someone might hear you!"

He is not in fact in danger of being killed and turned into a trophy here but he can never be too sure!

Such is his alarm that the imp takes over while Rio tries not to hyperventilate in alarm; the item he's given is .. just as impossible to interact with as everything else, much to his annoyance; the downside of being summoned as he has been. "Sounds like you're from a different part of the Nether than the rest of us. The humans of Azeroth, they can do anything any other species can when they put their minds to it. Wreck continents, travel to different planes, all kinds'a stuff. You start thinking they're some helpless little delicious cheese puffs waiting to be snapped up and pop, next thing you know they've got thirty of their friends on your doorstep and they've brought a Reckoning Bomb." The little demon flops dramatically over onto his back, scowling fiercely.

It takes Rio a few minutes to recover but recover he does.

Mostly because there's information to be had on hand and he is sent scrambling through his pouches and bags to come up with a scroll, a floating quill, and a bottle of reddish ink. "Wait, wait! Stop!" The quill is sent to auto-transcribing as quickly as it can scratch away, while he gets out another one to start on a second scroll by hand.

This is going to take a minute.

"Now, I believe," he begins, still scribbling furiously away, as is the quill writing on its own, "From the sound of things yours might be a parallel plane to my own. Our cosmology is inherently different, and ours has no one Creator, there's..." He pauses, counting on his fingers. "Seven. My people were directly made to attempt to keep order on Azeroth, though that's, hm, not exactly gone very well honestly!" But they did try. "According to the Kyrian, there are indeed multiple planes and afterlives per planet, and even per species! I've only seen four myself, but that was enough for me. It sounds like Earth at least shares that much, though your Father .. I suppose might still be one of the Titans, merely... .. oddly possessive of just one planet?" And now there's NOTES being added. "As far as I know the cosmos is just full of other planets, other species and other belief systems! Azeroth has .. hm, no less than twenty sapient species upon it, humanity is just one. More, if you begin weighing in elementals, demons, and the like, though most demons there tend to be .. the trouble-making sort? You seem perfectly civilized."

[fellfurthest]

"Sorry sorry," Lucifer can't hide the grin at first, but does make a STRONG note to keep it as quiet as he can, not mention the dragon thing anymore.

There's a minor bit of annoyance he has over the leprechaun coins being only intangible. Right. Dragons aren't humans, and neither are imps, so even if his original magic worked, it wouldn't without a human anchoring it. And he didn't fall asleep with grimm in his wallet, because there was no point. Even if he hexed it to near oblivion, Mammon would try to steal it anyway and then Lucifer would just have to unhex him, and all for what? Not even loose change? He really does have to hand it to humans for online banking at least. But of course, then Mammon just became obsessed with credit cards so.... nothing's changed.

He nods in agreement about humans. "Our too."

After listening, yet another nod. "Yes. It's--"

He's REALLY hesitant. The last thing he wants to do, genuinely, is work into his Father's grand PLANS and somehow spread religion in which said Father is the focal head.

Very slowly and hesitantly now, he makes a few more illusion planes on air, and puts in the dragons' and other planets. The 7 dragon gods. Miscellaneous other gods on other worlds. But all on a level with the archangels on Earth, that he starts RELUCTANTLY mapping out. Ugh. His immense irritation.

"Here's the thing you have to understand about my Father."

His cheek twitches. "He never ever answered me straight. He created me, and--" A huff, an armfold and he glares up a the ceiling.

"Everything." An irritated growl. "He's not partial to the Earth at all. I am. I wanted Earth. I thought Earth and Hell and Celestial Realm was it. Everything." He's kind of fuming, but he'll stay calm. Pride. "He's wanted to destroy Earth so many times... We used to have dinosaurs, like dragons, but before they got advanced enough to get to the good stuff like magic and planar understanding. He got fed up with them, just poof! Meteor, all gone."

Siiiiiiiiiiiigh. And he drags a palm down his face. He doesn't want to explain about Lilith and Adam.

"Archangels -- I think I get it now, and I SWEAR I can hear him laughing and I just--" the fury, no, he'll keep it under wraps. It's good! It is. He's just... Fed up. Why can't he EVER get a straight answer?!

"We're like the 7 dragon gods, not that we are gods, but it's a translation thing. Earth is like this too. 1500 religions, some things are true, and they're just supposed to sort it out. And maybe get my help, but I'm not doing it," A huff. He has very strong feelings about it. Obviously. "He; Father I mean, he is the one Creator I think," he lets out a frustrated growl not too different from his dog's. "I really wish I could just be like HAH! Guess Father isn't God!" Lucifer never calls him anything else, no Dad, just Father, Creator, God. "But if he was like us, the archangels, the dragon gods, your other planets, he'd try to keep Earth safer. Or one continent, or our favorites, the guardians he tasked us with. We all did and wanted to. Instead of just being so ready to destroy it every, single, time. And us. Archangels, lesser angels." Why not the humans? It makes no sense.

He just buries his head in both hands. He hates this. He can't hate the Creator. He doesn't understand again. And he hates that. He hates going from knowing everything there is to know, to realizing he knows nothing. Wasn't that literally Lucifer's own curse on Job? Anyway.

Give him a moment to fume. He'll just talk about it detached, and then try to see if anyone saved alcohol from Christmas.

Okay, crisis mentally pocketed. He'll open it up later.

"Most demons are completely incapable of self-control. I'm not like most demons. I was created to be --" Oh look, it's NOT as pocketed as he thought. He grinds his teeth. "Father's champion. His first. His best general. The one to guide the other angels. Instead," red eyes, all fury, "I led my brothers to Hell. Those who would follow me. And turned my back on the rest. As I said, the Creator didn't want to keep dealing with the problems of Earth. I suppose I get it, if you have --"

For once, Lucifer's own brain calculations on this math require so much paper, he just gets a little closer to Rio so he can see all the work Lucifer's dealing with, and just stacks notes on top of notes on top of notes on top of notes, and then extrapolating out from there, in a circle of 9, and then again, and again, and again. "If you have that many planets, that many worlds, that many people..."

He could scream. He could tear his wings off again in defiance and melt down on the spot creating a new and another Satan.

It doesn't matter if there's that many, it ALL still matters! Even just one! Just ONE angel breaking the rules doesn't mean she must be destroyed!

Both hands on head again. Ugh. He can't hate. There's zero in him, even as a demon. But the frustration....

At least it's not guilt. That's too much.

He's having the weirdest reverse theological crisis ever. At least he didn't flip his notes, they're helpful to come back to. He slowly points at multiples of them. "Each one is more important than anything. They're all equally important. Equally valuable. Equally valid, each have things that are better, things to learn, things to teach."

If he can do it with demons, anyone can do it with anyone. That's been his motto for years.

That and just following along Diavolo, because otherwise Lucifer is lost.

Less lost now, and yet more confused than ever.

But if everyone was so important, why would Father want to destroy even one of his angels?

"I don't know how we're all connected."

Ugh. He's tired mentally. And still unwilling to just ASK Father, even though he knows he'd get an answer. He doesn't want to admit it. And he already knows what his Father's answer would be anyway. So it's pointless. Good. He doesn't have to, and he WON'T.

"But Father..." Euuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

You can't make him say it.

He's NOT going to say it. He won't. Okay. One thing HE CAN SAY.

"Created Math."

A beat. "I don't mean discovered. I mean created. I mean designed every single piece of auron energy, and dark matter, and dark energy, and math to try to explain to us what he did and what we can do with it."

Grit teeth, and THIS TIME, he has his Satan moment flipping his notes and making illusionary scattered confetti. Hooray! Happy un-birthday! All the grit teeth barely held back contemptuous anger, "There is no world, planet, plane, and everything else where there's no math and all magic is controlled and tempered by it. He can help people by pointing them to it, or he can let them flounder like my brother Mammon, because Mammon refuses to study." Growl growl. At Mammon or God? "I'm so--"

DEEP BREATH. Still grit teeth, "Fed up with him. I can't get far enough away. Even now it's like--" ugh. "He's Peace. And I think I can do things without him, and I do and it's not enough." Lord Diavolo got it. Trying so hard to make his own father proud and come back from indefinite slumber. But the rage on Lucifer's behalf, and the warm blanket of peace and just 'here when you're ready' from his Father was basically him and Satan, and he hates that, and can't hate Father, but hates the destruction, and--

"Sorry." A bitter wry smile. "This is not my best look today." He knows his Father had plenty to say about that too. You can't control everything, don't try so hard, be more forgiving. But Lucifer still doesn't want to be like that.

"There is truth in everything." He covers the red eyes with his hands, still needing a moment. "And it's driving me crazy."

[juniorarchivist]

Very gently, Rio reaches out and puts an arcane illusion back in, placing the Titans at the top of the pecking order, not merely on the level of archangels.

"It's important for you to remember, that your cosmology, your belief system, your Father being 'the one god' does not apply everywhere, any more than it's likely that the Titans gave shape to your planet, your species, your humans and so on down the line. Realities are large and encompass many possibilities, and as soon as you close yourself off by thinking yours is the only possible way things could be, you're missing a lot of important things that might bite you later. There are planes where 'one true gods' are butchered by their own creations, and then where is their all powerful might?" Rio's smile is soft, he's doing his best to dull the sting of what may be painful words. "Our 'dragon gods' as you have attempted to reference it, are not gods. They are the Titans, they are order embodied, but gods they are not."

The illusion spins into seven different extremely human looking things - if humans could be made of things other than flesh. Starfire and shadow, the steel at the heart of suns, the cold emptiness of space. Male and female, bearded and not, vast and terrible and awe inspiring to mortals. "And they are not merely the patrons of dragons. They are the source of humanity, they are the origin of gnolls, their efforts brought forth the elves and the orcs across separate planets and across the cosmos. They forged the stars and set them on their paths. They opened voids between the planets to allow room to grow. They set time in motion to create cause and effect. In your plane, your reality, your God created math. In mine, Norgannon created math. It's not a theory, it's proveable fact. But they are not gods. They are Creators. You are not like the 'seven dragon gods'. You are not a Titan. You should not ever aim to be, you are you and that's what you should be."

The seven figures flicker out. "Gods exist. Elune, Malorne, the Loa of course. The Old Gods, rotting at the heart of the world, and so on." He doesn't deny Lucifer's father might be a god or even his universe's only!

That simply didn't apply anywhere else, at all, any more than Aman'thul could control things on Earth.

Nothing he says has the sound of a lie to it. It's a terrible, surreal truth.

"There are an estimated hundred billion planets in Azeroth's galaxy alone. If even one percent of those planets have a habitable planet, that's one billion planets with life on it. And if one percent of that is intelligent life.. then there are possibly ten million intelligent species .. in this one galaxy." The dragon sits back a little, folding his hands on his lap. "And there are hundreds of billions of galaxies. And there are just as many planes and realities and universes."

One planet is meaningless on the grander scale. Earth. Azeroth. It's the tiniest speck in the largest bucket. "You have your one precious planet. All you need to do is focus on it. Don't worry about the rest, alright?"

[fellfurthest]

Lucifer mentally holds onto Rio's words like an absolute lifeline of sanity. The hardest part of falling is you lose sight of everything. What is real or false, lies, or assumptions, up or down.

"Truth in everything," Lucifer says in monotone, because it's one of his Father's lessons, "1500 religions on Earth, none are wrong." It drove him crazy about humans, so he's not about to start doing the same now, even if his mind is unstable like falling all over again.

"Creators." A nod. He can understand it. He was one. Had been. Wasn't he still? He doesn't know. Probably? He CAN do art. He did art earlier the other day with remaking the model of House of Lamentations and telling the story. He'd made insects. Helped make and mold spirits. But it wasn't enough to make things, any idiot could do that, helping them grow and be themselves and how they interact with the rest is what mattered most. So no one wanted them destroyed. Even Lucifer himself, who infamously, wasn't the most understanding, and definitely one of the most torturous.

One hundred billion planets.

How many galaxies?

It makes his head hurt. SO much.

How could he be such an idiot?

But even just one life...

Both hands on head. "I might need to go to the kitchen and see if they have demonus." Wait. Does he really want to turn EMBARRASSINGLY CUDDLY RIGHT NOW!?!?!?

"I can't even keep that one dumb planet from going under. All the work..." He's tired. Exhausted. He's not even THERE. Stupid Earth. "The humans..." He can't just BLAME them, he's not Belphegor. If there's a problem, he has to be the one to fix it or shut up. But he's trying? Maybe about it wrong. But he doesn't KNOW the better way.

Why are there humans everywhere?

That's.... unlikely??? He doesn't want to think on it too much or try to understand why.

It's all 'turtles all the way down' as Night Haunter said.

Okay. Library book-vacation. "How are you finding the library here so far?" He needs to do grounding exercises mentally. To realign his very mind and soul.