Careful of the stacks - LIBRARY LOG

[libraryassistants]

Who: EVERYONE!
What: A bunch of Editors walk into a library...
When: October 31st - November 13
Where: The Unfinished Library
Content warnings: Please add them as needed in the comment titles!

Welcome to the Library, Editors.

As the new residents drop into the Library, they are bound to have questions. Unfortunately it seems no one (except perhaps someone on the phone) appears to have any answers. But there is a nice little cart with a carafe of too weak coffee, a pot of too strong tea, assorted creams and sugar packets, and what appear to be leftover boxed shortbread cookies. There’s a sign inviting people to help themselves but reminding them not to take any food or drinks into the stacks, or touch any of the books with their grubby cookie hands. But aside from this little display and the nametags they’re all given, which do reappear whenever removed for the first week (where do they keep coming from?), the Editors are more or less left alone.

The Library is eternal, or at least it seems that way, unbothered by its new inhabitants. It certainly does not seem like this is anything unusual within its operation. Are there other sections of the Library with Editors, tucked into a different part of the stacks? Have there been Editors here before, and the ones here are simply a replacement? It’s impossible to say, just that the Library seems quite prepared for them. The refrigerators are stocked with appropriate (if generic) foodstuffs, any tantrums in front of the circulation desk are completely ignored, and attempts to set the Library on fire fizzle out before anything can even catch.

However, after a few days, some of the scenery in the Library seems to be changing. Little singing bowls and white noise makers pop up on various shelves and counters, yoga mats appear tucked under the bunk beds (plenty for everyone, somehow), and some of the rooms have started playing relaxing, meditative music over unseen speakers. More confusingly, there are also small UFOs hanging by string from the lower ceilings of the contained rooms, which on closer reflection are revealed to simply be two paper plates glued together and painted silver. In the beginning they’re quite sparse, but by the end of the second week they are everywhere and impossible to ignore.

At the start of the second week, there is a possible hint as to why, for at least part of it. On the table by the circulation desk there is a sign: “This Week’s Recommended Reading: Invasion of the Body Snatchers!” Next to it, there is a sign up sheet: a waitlist to check-out the ‘reading.’ (There is no explanation or apology for it actually being a movie.)

[ooc note: The Library prompts from the TDM can be considered canon to the game. Remember any of the locations listed in the setting are fair game. Have fun!]

Comments

[curzed]

One day he's going to figure out how to get the glitter off. It has too much potential risk for revealing him when he's doing his best to not be seen, and adapting to sparkles is not really something he's ever had to do before. "Be careful offering anyone service, someone might take you up on it."

Don't join the Imperial forces, Harker. It's not safe or healthy. But Curze isn't going to, partly because what can a mortal do? Partly because this is so refreshingly bizarre he's reluctant to see it tainted by expectations.

It bothered him if he let it, having no relationship with his brothers. Will he admit that? Nope. "It is what it is. We all have our place." His is being the thing lurking in the dark. "My sons are disappointments."

Harsh. "..Not all," he amends. "Merely most."

[holiestlove]

That may take a few human lifetimes, but at least Cruze was immortal, so he had the time. "That is good advice, and I will say if I disagree with whatever I may be called on, I will let it be known." Questionable, but he liked to think so now. He had to bow and cater to survive in the castle. He was not the same timid man he had been months before.

But who knew until the time came? Luckily he would probably never have the chance to join.

"Truer words were never spoken." He replied with ease, holding over the four he had cut so far. "How are these?" Harker inquired as he let the rest of his new friends words sink in for a moment. Silent for a second as he put his thoughts together. "Is there a reason they are disappointments?" He could not imagine being disappointed in one's own children. But he was also very naive.

[curzed]

Glitter will still be on him when he's finally cornered by the assassin sent to kill him. She too will have to deal with the infection that is sparkles. "Good! There's much to be said for not letting others dictate your path." Not that it would do any good if that's what fate had in store, but there's something to be said for making an effort, he supposed.

Ideally Harker will just be dropped back off on whatever gentle colony world birthed him, safe and sound. They'll have to be sure these vampires are dealt with, of course, but the mortal could return to what's left of his friends and family. The cards offered are taken and added to the rest, fingers running along the edge in a patient search for defects, or any other way to tell one from another. "My sons are murderers, Jonathan Harker. They enjoy it, not for a purpose, not for a reason beyond their own entertainment. They are the worst of humanity raised up and granted power they should never have had."

One of the four is set aside, the others seem to pass muster! "You have a steady hand."

[holiestlove]

The glitter is forever. Harker's suit pants will have a bit of a shimmer in spots from getting some on him when he sat on the floor and his hands from passing items back and forth.

Still, better than Victorian glitter. Not that he knows yet. "Thank you, I knew what i wanted of life since my early teenage years, and even after everything, that has not changed." Clearly he means Mina. But his job was pretty good too. As long as no more vampires try to eat him, he would be delighted.

If all went how he wished, he would be home soon enough again, and he and Mina could start their new lives together. With the bonus of lifelong friends earned from blood, tears, death, and pain.

Blue eyes widen some as he nodded, idly wondering what kind of murder his new friend disagreed with. He knew Jonathan had been in a battle and seemed to approve, but enjoying murder was not okay? Which was fine, death was no laughing matter. "I am sorry to hear that; it cannot be easy on you to know your children have done such things." He wholeheartedly meant it too. Lifting another sheet with his template card and the slate pencil.

"Thank you; it is a point of pride to have a steady hand again." After his frights in the castle and the time recovering, he had had a tremble, at least until he found out he wasn't insane. The rest of it vanished when Mina was attacked, and he bought the knife at his side.

[curzed]

Hopefully Harker will get the future he wants! Libraries can't be forever.. can they? They'll surely be released eventually. "I see by your surprise that you wonder how I condemn my sons for what I condoned in you."

It's not hard to guess, morality is a tricky thing. "Even mortal life is too precious to waste on whim alone, for entertainment simply to listen to your screams. It is not justice. It rights no wrongs." Killing a vampire who's been spreading undeath like a plague is a very, very different matter. "But that will be my legacy now. Not that I and my sons fought to preserve order, that the lives we take are in pursuit of that goal ... but that we are torturers and killers. That we are beasts in men's shape, seeking only our own amusement."

[holiestlove]

Or could they? They could be; they would not know until it ends. If they remembered. "You can read me quite well already." It was a compliment, even if he was pretty easy to read unless he was in the Victorian version of customer service mode. "I admit I am rather curious about that."

The pencil was held still as he listened, nodding. "I can see where that would be deeply upsetting. Surely you cannot be held to blame for their misdeeds? It sounds like you do important work in your world to preserve order." Sure, some of what his new friend said sounded pretty alarming, but different worlds had different rules. "Are you alright though? It must be distressing."

A tiny tag.

[curzed]

For a moment, the proto-cards and scissors are set down, to pick a little at the sheen of glitter and dried blood between his fingers. "The devil-women who plagued you. Do you hold them accountable for their actions, or do you place the blame at the feet of the one who infected them?"

Another tiny one.

[holiestlove]

Jonathan looks apologetic then.

"Oh, I can see your point. That is rather unfair, though."

CONSUMES IT

[curzed]

"Life is unfair, Jonathan Harker." For a moment, he looks strangely wistful, instead of bitter or sad. "I take great comfort in that fact, as should you. Consider the alternative."

He turns one grimy hand over, palm up. "Imagine your entire life from start to finish, in a universe which is fair." The long fingers curl inward, grasping nothing. "And every single terrible thing that has befallen you is because you deserve it." His eyes narrow, studying his own clenched hand as if it had personally offended him somehow. "How much worse that would be."

The hand drops, to pick up another piece of cardstock. He'll have all seventy plus tonight, at this rate. "And so we bear the stains of each other's decisions, the sins of the fathers cast unto the sons, and the sons' actions reflecting terribly upon their fathers. A vicious circle. Round and round it goes."

[holiestlove]

He wanted to argue it, but as Night Haunter went on, it was clear to see when he switched opinions.

"I want to argue against it, but you have a good point. It would be so much worse to know all of the pains we suffer are our own fault." Jonathan nodded at the last bit. "I had not considered that, but all the same, I am sorry you must bear that."

[curzed]

Well, that's gratifying. No argument against his ideas, just agreement. It doesn't happen very often, and he can't say he doesn't enjoy it. His Legion would of course agree with nearly anything he said but Harker is definitely not a Night Lord. Too old to even try to become one, by his estimate, were the possibility there to suggest it.

"My lessons on etiquette never mentioned what to say when someone expresses condolences," he muses. "Thank you, I suppose would be right.."

He's not sure. "Don't let anyone call it fatalism. It's practicality. No amount of hoping for a fair universe will make it so and I am infinitely grateful for it."

idk how I lost this, sorry! Want to end it here?

[holiestlove]

He would find the young man was easily persuaded, which unfortunately is why his wife didn't know the signs to watch out for when Dracula started feeding on her. Yet, here he is, still easily swayed by someone older's logic.

"For my time it is simply that, thank you, or I appreciate that. It never quite feels like the right words, if you ask me. But who am I to question etiquette?"

Nodding then, as he took up the scissors again. "Practicality is far more useful than hope for fairness; this is true. I will keep it in mind."