Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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unfinishedlibrary2026-01-23 06:56 pm
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2026-01-23 06:56 pm
Entry tags:
- arcane: vikor,
- blade runner: kd6-3.7,
- claymore: cassandra the dusteater,
- dead boy detectives: charles rowland,
- devil summoner raidou kuzunoha: raidou k,
- legend of zelda botw: link,
- maidensong magica: claire ryland,
- persona 5: sumire yoshizawa,
- the murderbot diaries: murderbot,
- the wonders of mundus: hikaru aozora,
- the wonders of mundus: siobahn greenwood,
- tortall: hisako godsup,
- warhammer: roboute guilliman,
- ~moonlit rivals
perhaps you have learned it without a book - MOONLIT RIVALS LOG 1
Who: Readers and Actors galore!
What: The Story begins- and so do preparations for the Masquerade!
When: The three days prior to the Masquerade [ooc timeline: 1/23-2/5]
Where: The city of Montica
Content warnings: Please include any warnings in headers!
First Quarter Moon
Now that most of the Editors know what to expect, the draw into the Story is likely more obvious this time. There’s a subtle urge that encourages their feet to turn towards the Stacks; a slight shimmer in the air that thickens the closer they get to the book laying open on an innocuous library cart.
Those who resist the Story’s pull will be drawn in eventually. Whether the compulsion is successful, or whether the Librarian passes by to sweep them in - all Editors will enter, and all will experience the Story’s start together.
(Editors who have gained the skill Ex Media Res will be able to resist the Story’s pull and hang out in the Library. Drop us a note if they’re using this skill!)
In particular, at the hour our Readers arrive, there is a clean-up going on at the centre of town. People are grumbling as they sweep debris from the streets, and those who are familiar with supernaturally-powered fights will recognise this scene for exactly what it is: the aftermath of some powerful entities having had at it. Hang around too long and you may find yourself with a broom or hammer thrust into your hands, the expectation that you’ll help having been made clear.
Those who leave the clean-up will find themselves welcome in the city’s inn, where visitors hover by the windows, chattering excitedly about the fight that had just broken up. Some people think they’re lucky to have seen it - others think they’ll be luckier if they go the next few days without seeing another one.
The inn is warm, full of gossip, and by some marvel still has private rooms available to rent. Readers will find themselves with enough coin in their pocket to afford quite a bit, this time around - but don’t go spending it all at once. Those who are astute will hear the talk of a masquerade going around, and if you want to attend, you’re going to have to dress appropriately.
The city is almost evenly bisected by loyalties, a hard divide running clearly through the centre of the town. Only a small ring in the centre is considered to be neutral territory - though that’s becoming more and more disputed with each passing moon.
To the north, buildings seem to have a fondness for silver. It seems they’ll take any excuse to work the precious metal into everyday items, from cutlery to window fastenings; and some particularly zealous citizens proudly don silver jewellery and pins in their day-to-day wear. In this section of town you will find the dwellings of the old vampire clans, littered with antiquities and casual opulence.
To the south, the people are fond of spices. Garlic flowers pepper garden beds and the dried bulbs hang from doorframes, and there’s hardly a meal cooked without it. Some industrious workers are busy building small moats of flowing water through this half of the city – you’d better mind your step, lest you get in their way. Located amongst these homes are the dens of the werewolf packs, warmly furnished and brimming with life.
No matter where you are in town, whether you’re surrounded by silver or dodging moat diggers, whether it’s day or night or nebulous twilight, there’s one topic that’s on everyone’s lips: the Umbra Masquerade.
It’s a once in a human lifetime event, and the city is abuzz. Some of the elderly may have been once before, in their youth - but likely at an age where they were too young to remember. There are stories about these masquerades, of the favours that can be won and the deals that can be made. More than one wealthy family attributes their successes to parties of the past, and while the werewolves shouldn’t be there – who’s going to stop them?.
Behind the fuss of the market, astute observers will note the broken and boarded-up windows hidden by the bold stalls. Some buildings are outright abandoned, damaged beyond repair. It becomes even more obvious as night falls and the number of stalls thins, the night vendors setting up with wary looks in their eyes.
Right now the market is bustling with vendors sending goods up to the Umbra Clan's mansion. There is a constant stream of traders passing back and forth, hurrying to get their contributions in place before the ball. Regular goods are still for sale, but the busiest stalls are those selling - of all things - masks with varying levels of decoration. They’ve cleverly set up outside of stores selling clothing; beautiful dresses and tailored suits visible through the cracked and dusty windows. Editors will find they have enough local currency to afford something modest. If their tastes skew toward the more extravagant then, well – they better get to work.
The mansion's front doors open to a foyer that is connected to an upstairs level by two grand staircases. A gilded chandelier hangs down between them, casting rainbows across the wooden floors as the sunlight strikes its crystal ornaments.
Those wide, curved staircases lead to a mezzanine that overlooks the ballroom below. Doors to private rooms branch off from here; all of them locked.
During the daylight hours, the mansion sports large windows covered by thick curtains that are drawn firmly shut. Those who try to peer through them will find an additional layer of security in the form of tightly-fastened metal blinds that block any slivers of sunlight from eking through.
On all three days the mansion is crawling with people setting up for the masquerade. Over there, someone’s hanging strings of lights. Over here, a florist is carefully arranging flowers. The kitchen is busy, human cooks overseeing the production of hundreds of canapes – and on the third day, over in the ballroom, are a band of musicians getting prepared for the night.
Security is lax everywhere except the underground floors, where the clan sleeps. The doors that lead to the underground complex are barred from the inside, and human guards keep watch outside of them to redirect any wanderers.
[The info/plotting post can be found here!]
What: The Story begins- and so do preparations for the Masquerade!
When: The three days prior to the Masquerade [ooc timeline: 1/23-2/5]
Where: The city of Montica
Content warnings: Please include any warnings in headers!
First Quarter Moon
Now that most of the Editors know what to expect, the draw into the Story is likely more obvious this time. There’s a subtle urge that encourages their feet to turn towards the Stacks; a slight shimmer in the air that thickens the closer they get to the book laying open on an innocuous library cart.
Those who resist the Story’s pull will be drawn in eventually. Whether the compulsion is successful, or whether the Librarian passes by to sweep them in - all Editors will enter, and all will experience the Story’s start together.
(Editors who have gained the skill Ex Media Res will be able to resist the Story’s pull and hang out in the Library. Drop us a note if they’re using this skill!)
Our Beginning
The Story begins as night makes its transition to morning. Montica is a city that never sleeps, and some Editors may find themselves taken aback at how the absence of sunlight has done nothing to deter the nightlife.In particular, at the hour our Readers arrive, there is a clean-up going on at the centre of town. People are grumbling as they sweep debris from the streets, and those who are familiar with supernaturally-powered fights will recognise this scene for exactly what it is: the aftermath of some powerful entities having had at it. Hang around too long and you may find yourself with a broom or hammer thrust into your hands, the expectation that you’ll help having been made clear.
Those who leave the clean-up will find themselves welcome in the city’s inn, where visitors hover by the windows, chattering excitedly about the fight that had just broken up. Some people think they’re lucky to have seen it - others think they’ll be luckier if they go the next few days without seeing another one.
The inn is warm, full of gossip, and by some marvel still has private rooms available to rent. Readers will find themselves with enough coin in their pocket to afford quite a bit, this time around - but don’t go spending it all at once. Those who are astute will hear the talk of a masquerade going around, and if you want to attend, you’re going to have to dress appropriately.
Welcome to Montica
Montica itself is a city built from stone, with the buildings packed closely together along cobblestone streets. Flowering vines creep along trellises, their gentle fragrance perfuming the air. The sky is clear and smog-free, the water flows cleanly, and a sense of magic drifts comfortably in the breeze.The city is almost evenly bisected by loyalties, a hard divide running clearly through the centre of the town. Only a small ring in the centre is considered to be neutral territory - though that’s becoming more and more disputed with each passing moon.
To the north, buildings seem to have a fondness for silver. It seems they’ll take any excuse to work the precious metal into everyday items, from cutlery to window fastenings; and some particularly zealous citizens proudly don silver jewellery and pins in their day-to-day wear. In this section of town you will find the dwellings of the old vampire clans, littered with antiquities and casual opulence.
To the south, the people are fond of spices. Garlic flowers pepper garden beds and the dried bulbs hang from doorframes, and there’s hardly a meal cooked without it. Some industrious workers are busy building small moats of flowing water through this half of the city – you’d better mind your step, lest you get in their way. Located amongst these homes are the dens of the werewolf packs, warmly furnished and brimming with life.
No matter where you are in town, whether you’re surrounded by silver or dodging moat diggers, whether it’s day or night or nebulous twilight, there’s one topic that’s on everyone’s lips: the Umbra Masquerade.
It’s a once in a human lifetime event, and the city is abuzz. Some of the elderly may have been once before, in their youth - but likely at an age where they were too young to remember. There are stories about these masquerades, of the favours that can be won and the deals that can be made. More than one wealthy family attributes their successes to parties of the past, and while the werewolves shouldn’t be there – who’s going to stop them?.
The Market
At the centre of the city are Montica’s most dreary buildings. Markets are held here during the day, bright banners and exuberant stallholders calling out their wares. People of all kinds shop here, and it’s the best place to find quality goods. Some patrons give each-other hearty side-eyes, some sneer and mutter insults under their breath - but by and large, this a neutral zone, and the regular citizens treat it as such.Behind the fuss of the market, astute observers will note the broken and boarded-up windows hidden by the bold stalls. Some buildings are outright abandoned, damaged beyond repair. It becomes even more obvious as night falls and the number of stalls thins, the night vendors setting up with wary looks in their eyes.
Right now the market is bustling with vendors sending goods up to the Umbra Clan's mansion. There is a constant stream of traders passing back and forth, hurrying to get their contributions in place before the ball. Regular goods are still for sale, but the busiest stalls are those selling - of all things - masks with varying levels of decoration. They’ve cleverly set up outside of stores selling clothing; beautiful dresses and tailored suits visible through the cracked and dusty windows. Editors will find they have enough local currency to afford something modest. If their tastes skew toward the more extravagant then, well – they better get to work.
The Umbra Mansion
The sprawling building stands tall, overlooking the city of Montica. Vines budding with fragrant flowers grow up the sides of the building, curling around windowsills and balconies in a curated fashion. A large hedge maze sits at the rear of the mansion, behind the grand ballroom; and the gardeners are in top form today, brandishing tools at anyone who looks like they're about to enter it. It's one of many things being tidied up and decorated for the ball, so you'd better not get in their way.The mansion's front doors open to a foyer that is connected to an upstairs level by two grand staircases. A gilded chandelier hangs down between them, casting rainbows across the wooden floors as the sunlight strikes its crystal ornaments.
Those wide, curved staircases lead to a mezzanine that overlooks the ballroom below. Doors to private rooms branch off from here; all of them locked.
During the daylight hours, the mansion sports large windows covered by thick curtains that are drawn firmly shut. Those who try to peer through them will find an additional layer of security in the form of tightly-fastened metal blinds that block any slivers of sunlight from eking through.
On all three days the mansion is crawling with people setting up for the masquerade. Over there, someone’s hanging strings of lights. Over here, a florist is carefully arranging flowers. The kitchen is busy, human cooks overseeing the production of hundreds of canapes – and on the third day, over in the ballroom, are a band of musicians getting prepared for the night.
Security is lax everywhere except the underground floors, where the clan sleeps. The doors that lead to the underground complex are barred from the inside, and human guards keep watch outside of them to redirect any wanderers.
[The info/plotting post can be found here!]
no subject
Then she does follow the drone. Stepping out of the door, she flinches and warily tracks something not currently there as it runs, before she's able to see that it's not part of the now and shakes it off. Some days are worse than others and this one isn't great. Just now, with the magic she's worked out and fiddling with the feather-shaped charms on her bracelet, Jadis manages without walking into anything but it's good that she doesn't have to go far.
By the time she's entered the alley she's stopped the nosebleed and wiped away most of the evidence. There's just a little drying residue on her face, no active leaks. A headache is starting. This is pretty normal. Rather than stand blocking the way back to the street, Jadis pivots to put her back against the nice, reassuring brick wall. She's reasonably confident that this outsider isn't going to hurt her unprompted and she wants to brace before she risks too much information by actually, directly looking at them.
"I'm sorry to scare you," she says, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "But I can't just let things wander in, outsider." She bears some resemblance to Hisako('s human parts) but the most notable similarity is her hair and that she has a ceramic flute around her neck too, though it's not quite the same.
no subject
SecUnit is already regretting this course of action; it should have just taken its drone and fled. Shit. Shit.)
Outside, though, Jadis will see a tall individual. It avoids looking at her eyes, instead staring at her chin so it can vaguely appear like its looking at her face. But really it is through the drones - two of which are now hovering around at different spots in the alleyway - that SecUnit actually observes her. (Which means it doesn't matter that she's wiped away the evidence of her earlier leaking. The drone already saw it. And it can see that she's a little unsteady, not entirely well.)
"Um. Hi,” it says. It looks…very awkward. "Are you supposed to be Security?"
If she was, it was weird; she was. She was able to spot the drones, which was good. Any decent security system should be able to do that. But she also didn't seem particularly capable of dealing with a security issue if it arose. (And choosing to confront SecUnit about it was, actually, a bad move; she should have kept her knowledge secret, and used that against SecUnit later.)
no subject
She risks a look at the outsider and gawks at the diagram that appears in her vision just past it. It's another mechanism! Partly. Mostly. Very much more complex than the drone. It had to have been made like this, not be someone who had parts fitted to them. No one could possibly survive being taken to pieces and... become a kind of embroidery and stitchwork like that. Could they?
Definitely she could find out more if she wanted but she's realized, it's clothed, people don't like her knowing what's under their clothing and that's for a good reason. It is not a view of the outsider naked - that has only happened once in ten years and it was because she just had to know about someone's tattoos, apparently - but it might as well be. Jadis coughs and looks at the wall again.
"I can protect against things the guards don't notice, if that's what you mean." It seems to be something more specific and codified than what the word means to her. "But I'm actually here to say that you are obviously from that... library place."
The library has a proper name, she's sure about that and it's often just out of reach. That place is one of those subjects her insight never really goes off on. She imagines it as the home base or meeting ground of an organized band, its people specialized and moving with purpose.
no subject
"...What do you know about the Library."
Wasn't this meant to be a story? A piece of media, that the Library was somehow simulating and shoving all of them into? Jadis was a character in that story. So how could she know anything about what was outside of it?
And really, she was way, way off with her assumption that everyone from the Library was moving with purpose. SecUnit sure wasn't. It had no idea what the fuck it was doing, other than trying to make sure people don't die, or whatever.
no subject
"You could just tell me what it's called, pigeon, it's not like it'll make a difference. I don't know much - don't interrupt me, please, I won't be able to pick it back up. I just know there's an outsider place with a lot of strange people, and they meet in a library. Some of you are giants." She's met one now, and it had been a vindication and a point of great dread to recognize his face. It would have been less existentially unsettling if she hallucinated and purely made this up.
"You do things. I don't know the things. But there's... something happens and you reincarnate or, or fuse with people somewhere else? Maybe it's a punishment, I don't know! Then the rest of you do training or, something and follow, and you don't want to but there's something you have to do, and there's... it's happened before and it's going to happen again." Jadis is faltering through every part of that except the last, which she's actually confident about. Her head is pounding now and she's rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands like that will get it to stop.
She shakes her head and winces. Ow. "That's the first time I've said all that out loud. I've been trying to put it together for a decade, every time I've had a vision of someone and there are books it's gone in my notes, and this is as close as I can get to it making sense!" Jadis makes an incoherent little sound of frustration and pain and presses another handkerchief to her nose.
no subject
"...It doesn't make fucking sense." Not even to them, really. SecUnit might have a more complete picture than Jadis, but it still had more questions than answers about the whole thing.
Jadis, though. She was seeing...something. She learned things, even if they didn't make sense. Vague and incomplete as they were, there might still be something she knew that was useful.
"I want to see your notes."
Only thing was...what would she want in return?
no subject
She fishes a vial of clear liquid out from a skirt pocket, uncorks it, and downs it with a grimace. So sour. The headache starts considering lightening up, if she doesn't do anything that would make it stay.
"I've been very forthcoming, you know. I've put myself out here, where you could just kidnap or kill me, and told you about trying to make sense of my madness." She is almost totally confident this person won't kill her, the point is that she's made herself vulnerable. Jadis glances back towards the person and away. Bricks are nice. There's not a lot to be seen looking at a brick wall. "I feel like you might be trustworthy but that's not good enough, I feel a lot of things and logically, you've given me nothing. Why did you send a drone into our home? What are you trying to find?"
no subject
...And fine, maybe it would have to be a little honest to get them.
"Because some of the people from the Library are now people living here," it says. "From the...fusing with other people thing, or whatever." (Was that what it was like, becoming one of the people in a Story? It didn't know; that hadn't happened to it yet. But it seemed like it could be.)
"I wanted to make sure they're okay. And have decent Security protecting them. Which, by the way, could be better," it says. "Spotting my drone was good, but then you fucked it up by letting me know you saw it. Not to mention coming out here to meet me without any backup."
no subject
She hunches her shoulders and crosses her arms so she can rub at her upper arms vigorously. She can think abstractly of this being true of other people as long as she doesn't examine it too closely. After all, at almost any time she can see flickers of the other versions of the three Guildulfs, the two giants and the one little person, in the corners of her vision. It's more obvious with them than anyone else. But herself? It feels bad, like she's popped a major joint out of its socket but she knows, there's no way she wouldn't be one of them.
Jadis shakes herself out of that. Can't think about existential nonsense, there's work to do.
"How was I supposed to talk to you if I pretended not to see it? No one I could have taken along would have made a difference if you were going to do something, either, plus then there would be someone here." Bitterly she adds, "Everything I'm saying is completely mad. This isn't the same as seeing the past or the future, or additional context or anything. The household understands that."
no subject
Though really it was mostly concerned with Not-Siobhan. It didn't like Sanguinius. But fine, SecUnit could make sure he didn't die or whatever. The others in the household it hadn't interacted with at all.
(It wasn't sure who Jadis was. It figured she was someone, but she looked different enough from her usual self that it couldn't make an exact match. But it was kind of hoping she was the fauna person who'd stood around and watched it when it was offline. Ugh.)
"See, this is why humans shouldn't do their own security," it explains. Its Act Like A Human code suggested that sighing heavily and rolling its eyes would be a good idea here, so it did. "None of you can make decent security evaluations for shit. I mean sure, I'm not going to murder you horribly, but you didn't know that."
(Which, of course, was exactly why it had to send the drone. Werewolf security was clearly just as shit as human security.)