unfinishedlibrary | Careful of the stacks

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Careful of the stacks - LIBRARY LOG

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!]

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There's a phone sitting on the circulation desk, with a simple note reading "Assistants' Line." Give it a call?

arrival

To say Kai reacts badly to his arrival is only a suitable description for those who don't know him- for anyone who would, it is an understatement at best. He goes from waking to hyper alert in a matter of seconds, entire body tense as he takes in his new surroundings. The fact that he wakes up surrounded by books, of all things, is perhaps the only thing that stops him from simply launching himself forward to try and claw his way out. Not out of any particular reverence for books. Mostly just sheer confusion.

That will only last for so long, however, and should anyone come across him in the stacks he rounds on them in an instant, hands in fists by his sides and clearly just holding himself back, not clear who his enemy is and deeply unsettled by it. "Where am I?" he growls, and when he's close it's impossible to not notice that his eyes are pitch black.

scouting

It quickly becomes clear that what they're suffering from is a dearth of information- so, even though it's been a very, very, very long time since he was properly a scout, he tries to remember those skills enough to get an idea of the library. Since it is... well, a building, rather than out in the outdoors with the potential for enemies to be anywhere, it is both easier and harder than he remembers. Easier because, well, it seems like no one is actively trying to kill him (yet). Harder because nothing about this place makes sense.

He growls in frustration as he turns a corner, almost bumping into someone. "Sorry," he mutters, mussing up his hair, a black, embroidered veil covering most of his face, "I swear I've taken the exact same steps six different times and it keeps sending me somewhere different." He hates it. He hates it a lot.

I'm not saying it's aliens...

To be fair, Kai isn't saying it's aliens, because he doesn't know what aliens are. He does recognize the singing bowls, at least- the Enalin have them around, and you can catch him quietly playing one in a corner if he thinks no one is looking. He likes the sound, ok?

It's also possible to find him tearing down one of the UFOs and dismantling it with a frown. "What is this?" he asks. They're plate shaped, but why would you make a plate this flimsy??

Edited 2025-10-31 23:13 (UTC)

Bunks - A Few Days In

By modern, 41st millennium standards, Konrad Curze's power armor is absolutely archaic. But he can also get out of it unassisted when he so chooses, and he's So Chosen. The rows of beds and neat dividers are all well and good, and now there is a monolithic, distinctly ominous empty armor tucked against one wall, crusted in places with what looks and smells awfully like old blood.

Curze himself, a towering figure somewhere north of nine or ten feet tall, only has on a pair of ragged dark pants (and his nametag sticker stuck directly to his bare chest, currently reading Night Haunter) otherwise, scarred and grimy, sitting cross-legged between two of the painfully small beds, with an array of singing bowls stacked around him or balanced on one knee, swiped from elsewhere in the bunks and the rest of the library.

They were not there before. He didn't see them get placed there. So he took them, theoretically to investigate. Amongst the bowls is a single paper UFO, and a bunch of peeled-off nametag labels.

That both the paper UFO and the bowls seem ordinary is even more suspicious.

Coffee Corner

There's a tiny cart, with tinier little sugar packets and cups and paper plates and other things really not adapted to a Primarch's size.

It hasn't stopped Curze, who seems more bemused than annoyed, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up, a tiny cup of tea balanced on his knee while he works on opening a sugar packet. This is an incredibly delicate process, and one he's managing pretty well so far.

[OOC: Wildcard options: Curze is going to be EVERYWHERE these first couple of weeks, and never quite bothering with things like ... sleeping. Find him somewhere else! Also will match format.]

Edited 2025-10-31 23:54 (UTC)

It is genuinely sheer coincidence that the person that responds to Kai also has solidly black eyes, with no change from sclera to iris to pupil is noticeable. There are probably more pleasant things to run into in a library than ghost-white ten foot tall giants wearing only ratty black pants and a nametag sticker cheerfully declaring him 'Konrad Curze', a book in one hand.

Its cover looks suspiciously like one of those cute animal books normally reserved for young children.

"A library," the stranger rumbles, sounding suspiciously amused. The words are faintly accented, but easy to understand. "The books are not a giveaway?"

Edited 2025-10-31 23:57 (UTC)

It's a mixture of relief and concern when Sanguinius ducks his head into where Curze had encamped himself, only to see the removed armor.

Relief, that perhaps with the armor, Curze had left the plethora of weapons (or at least some of them) behind, so he was slightly--SLIGHTLY--less armed. Also relief in that, while it was beneath his rank, and something a blood thrall should ideally be doing, someone could actually perhaps start cleaning that armor. And that someone is him.

So Curze might return to find his brother, using a toothbrush he's liberated (stolen? No. Sanguinius does not 'steal') from the latrine, scrubbing at some...gunk stuck in the ornate inlays on the Night Lord's relic armor.

There is so much about this particular meeting that Kai has no idea what to do with. The black eyes should mean this man is also a demon, but the fact that he is ten feet tall confuses that point considerably. Demons are either in mortal bodies in the mortal world, or their original bodies in the underearth. What he's facing is clearly neither.

It's also annoying that the man is treating this like it's funny. Kai's a little tempted to steal some of his life just for that, but he knows that's not productive.

"Which library, where, and most importantly, how did I get here?" he asks, and to his credit he doesn't look the least bit intimated by Cruze. Nor is he really paying attention to the children's book.

Edited 2025-11-01 00:02 (UTC)

Konrad is no daemon, but he's definitely made people question that many times in his life. He'll probably continue to do so until he finally gets himself killed. "Ah, answers I do not have. We are .. hm, far away from home."

It's only funny because it's happening to someone else. It lets him not be as concerned with feeling more or less the same extreme discomfort with finding himself somewhere unexpected, with no awareness of how he's gotten there.

"What I do know, is you are not the only one with such questions, and there is terrible tea to be had elsewhere if you wish it." Nobody's ever accused him of being particularly helpful either.

When Curze returns with another liberated (and not stolen) singing bowl in hand, still thoroughly unsure of their purpose, he finds .. the Angel of Baal.

Scrubbing the deeply lodged long-dried blood and viscera from bits of his armor.

It's certain that Curze is still armed, and is perfectly lethal without weaponry at all, but the worst of his weaponry definitely is standing there, idle, being .... cleaned. That's not something he allows the servitors and slaves onboard his ships to do.

"Brother. What are you doing?"

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Library

Well. That was disorienting, though perhaps not as much as the first time Hikaru Aozora had woken up in another world. And of course he's still as he was on Mundus - all four, teen-looking feet of him, plus eight feet of dragonfly wings fully unfurled. Irritating.

An incantation and a snap of his fingers still summoned a glowing blue mage hand, so this form had its advantages - as much as his still having his powers outside of the game just raised further questions.

He takes book after book off the shelf to scan the title then replace it, trying to date and solidly locate this place. He is not having a good time of it.

"A Practical Treatise on Alchemy, Nicolas Flamel, 1383," he reads out loud. "Jane's Fighting Starcraft Recognition Guide, 2258. A Guide to Hungarian Cuisine, Van Helsing, 1897. The Auracite Cutter's Handbook -"

He stops dead, then shouts, "Gods above, this one's from Mundus!"

Chapter 2: Coffee Corner

So it is that this elfin man with a thin mustache, in his robes with red mantle and wizard hat, found his way to the break room and the coffee. He eagerly pours himself a cup of the ol' Potion of Focus using his mage hand - the table would be almost too tall otherwise - along with too much sugar and creamer. His glowing magical hand passes the cup to his unlit fleshy one, and he stirs, and he sips.

His expression quickly turns to a very put-upon one. "I think the coffee was better on Mundus," he kvetches, a little louder than he intended. "This is like making love in a canoe."

Chapter 3: Maker's Meetup

Hikaru naturally gravitates towards the 3-D printer, and the computer console near it. Soon he puts a thumb drive in the printer and has it produce a small sprue of what look like plastic miniatures, like one would use to play a wargame or tabletop RPG.

One looks like a female monk with three fox tails and ears to match. Another, a paladin in armor with a shock of curly hair down to her shoulders. Another, a butterfly-winged archer in a mantle, tunic and leggings, of the same apparent height and species as Hikaru.

He looks at his handiwork and sighs, crumpling, losing another three inches he can't afford.

Chapter 4: The Care And Feeding Of Your Pixie

The refectory - damn it, he's been on Mundus too long. The kitchens are a welcome sight after the questionable fare that greeted Hikaru and his fellow Editors. Even more so is the rice cooker and the ingredients to make Golden Curry with beef, which Hikaru gladly avails himself of.

He needs to climb up a stepstool then jump, fluttering his wings for more height, to grab things off the top shelves - which he kvetches about in muttered English and Japanese below his breath - but the stepstool is sufficient for the stove.

He proudly ladles the savory stew over a cup of rice - the portion he takes is certainly enough for a grown human man - and he sits down to eat his share with obvious satisfaction, wielding chopsticks with practiced precision.

Afterwards, he sits back, contented, hand on a full belly, and sighs. "Oh, how I have missed that," he says. "That's the taste of my childhood." To anyone else in the room, he adds: "Help yourself, it's impossible to make only enough curry rice for one."

Chapter 5: Science Fiction Double Feature
A lot of things are starting to make an uncomfortable amount of sense when the signup sheet arrives, but after a day of hesitation, Hikaru puts on his robe and wizard hat like a grown-ass man and signs up with a flourish of a quill, signing his name both in cursive and in neat kanji.

"If this means what I think it means..." he mutters, hand under chin, before trailing off with a shake of his head. "Alea jacta est, to quote my old DM. We'll see what comes of it."

Edited 2025-11-01 00:16 (UTC)

Sanguinius, too, has been scouting, but from a mix of curiosity and frustration. His stride has something of a caged animal, pacing, to it.

Compared to his brother, Sanguinius is not a dangerous person.
But ONLY compared to his brother. Compared to most humans, he is lethal, but really only dangerous when he is bored.

Which he is getting, now. Bored, and frustrated, and trapped. Because he's had the same issue too--venturing around a floorplan that makes no sense. He and the smaller person mutually jolt to a halt before walking into each other.

"This place does seem to have a sentience of its own." he agrees.

The bowls are a puzzle of their own, but he is choosing right now to focus on something he does understand and can control: armor maintenance.

"Brother," he says, amicably. "We are among mortals. We need to think of the impression we make upon them." Demigods should not be, how can he say this nicely, stinky.

"I've noticed that door in particular loves to change where it opens to," Hikaru commiserates. "Can't tell if it cycles through them in any particular order, or it's a roll of the dice, or if there's some trick to choosing the destination. It's frustrating."

He draws in a slow breath. Holds it for a measured few moments, and lets it out again in a sigh. "Yes. I am thinking of that impression as we speak, and that is precisely why you should not be doing that."

The impression he wants to make on mortals isn't one of cheerful, friendly safety, that would belie the carefully selected ornamentation of once-living things he usually preferred, or the ominous heraldry, or the very sharp claws.

The point is fear not cleanliness. "Stop erasing my hard work. I have spent years on it."

Know how the Nightmare Mantle gets nominally washed? When it happens to rain when he makes planetfall.

"Terrible... tea." He's not sure why his brain decides to stick on that bit of information, but it sure does. Perhaps because it's the only part of what Curze said that is actual information. Useless information, but information.

Well, that's not true. Him saying there are others with questions... "Are you one of the people with the same questions?" He's not sure he trusts it; the man looks too comfortable here, which people should not look like after being kidnapped. But the claim alone is interesting.

"What." It's stated in the sort of startled deadpan that one gets when they really don't want to believe the thing you've just said. But also Kai clearly does believe it, even if it makes him even more unhappy about all of this. "How? that doesn't make any sense." Magic doesn't work like that. Or at least, none that he knows of does.

It's your brother, Curze. Take a deep cleansing breath and use your words.

"Konrad." He hears you. He understands you (sort of. In a way a primarch can understand another primarch, but honestly, no one can entirely understand any of them.) "We must think about contagion. Do you want to start a plague that ravages our new friends?"

"And watered down recaff." Which he didn't touch on principle, one way or another. Tea was barely a thing he'd bother with. Water was fine, in the rare times he bothered to drink anything at all.

Konrad should, by all means, be far more upset about this. But things simply don't happen to him without him being aware it would occur long beforehand. This? This has not happened before, and the novelty has yet to wear off. What kind of power would it take to not only hide from his visions, but snatch him from his flagship without his awareness?

It's great. His smile is utterly friendless. "I am. Rest assured I do intend to find out, there is much to do and little time to do it in, but it is very interesting, don't you think..?"

To be fair, his stride and Kai's are not that dissimilar, only muted on Kai's end from his scouting having been during a war, where being noticed meant death (or, in his case, Unpleasantness. There was a reason the Saredi used demons as scouts a lot). He manages to keep his anger and fear mostly out of his movements, though the frustration is definitely bleeding through as he talks to the very large man in front of him.

"How?" he asks, because that's one of his big questions, "And why? To do this-- I don't know of any magic that would do it, but it would take a lot of power. Why use it on making it impossible to know the floorplan?"

"It's like a tunable Waygate on Mundus," he says, as if those words made sense in that order. "If they randomized, ah, the order in it encoded chevrons, or however it parses what address the other end is linked to, assuming it is random. Or a shorter range personal portal spell - I can't do those yet, but I should be able to soon."

"I have no friends here." He turns away with a sudden scowl, to place the new bowl with the others; it makes a pleasant humming sound when it's set down a little too sharply. What ARE they for??

... Concerns for later, once he gets Sanguinius to stop removing the remains of wayward settlers from his sigil. "Are you concerned for these mortals? Ah, no, of course you are. Don't be, they could be our captors."

The more Curze talks, the more suspicious Kai finds him. He doesn't scare easily, but there is something deeply creepy about that smile. His only consolation is that the man is clearly not a Hierarch or an expositor. Of course, that also means he could very well be something he doesn't know about.

"Interesting is definitely a word for it," Kai says dryly- it's clearly not the one he would have picked, "What do you mean, little time to do it in?" It sounds like Curze knows something that he doesn't.

Those words do not make sense in any order. What?? There's a moment where Kai just stares at him, which is somewhat counteracted by the veil but his confusion is probably still clear. "...Translation?" he asks after a minute. He's learned so many languages, he's not afraid to admit when he doesn't know what something means, and Hikaru might as well be speaking a new language.

Coffee Time

Nara'a doesn't seem to mind the coffee at this point, but he doesn't seem to mind much in this place. He really does like these cookies, but he's trying to leave enough for the rest of the group.

He does wander around towards everyone who he hasn't met yet, though. "Hello! How are you? How long have you been here?"

If nothing else, at least he's meeting new people...

~~Meeting~~ Teaching Rooms

He puts a piece of paper on the door - Magic Meeting. Maybe some other people are interested in learning about aether. It's better than just sitting around here and not knowing anything about anyone else's magic.

Also, he's got a notebook and a pen - he's going to be taking notes, at least. He's not sure if anyone else is going to, but someone has to.

Aliens... ?

Nara'a has seen that shape before. He draws a picture and attaches it to one of the UFOs. He grins and starts spinning it around, possibly spinning it too hard.

... Sorry if it hits you by mistake.

Wildcard

[ooc; Will match prose or brackets! If you need any explanation or if you want a wildcard, grab me on Plurk at

atrypical or Discord at artematthew!]

He's not even going to try to hide the hurt that crosses his face at that comment. Surely, here, at least, they could temporarily lay down their rivalries, their past selves, and be something at least close to friends? "I suppose it will offend you for me to say I take some solace in sharing this place with you?"

Probably. Curze found offense, if not crimes, in things Sanguinius could never figure.

"The ones who are our captors deserve a direct fate." He's not quite as soft as Curze might think. He's away from his Legion, while they were back home, leaderless, with danger closing in on all sides. He had no love for whoever had brought him here. "And there are those who seem to be in our plight as well, taken from their lives, very much different from ours." It's a partial victory for Curze, as at least Sanguinius stops his scrubbing.

He has the good grace to facepalm, dragging it down to his chin. Sorry, Kai, sometimes he forgets that other people haven't had his training.

"I think the door isn't a conventional door, but some kind of portal that puts two places next to each other that wouldn't be as the crow flies. Maybe you'd call it a wormhole or a teleportal. Great magical gateways on Mundus that could do this were called Waygates, and when they worked, you could put in an address code to choose another waygate for it to connect to. Is that clearer?"

He coughs into his palm, embarrassed. "Ignore the part about chevrons. That's... I watched a lot of science fiction as a teenager and that was a reference."

Edited (you didn't see that typo) 2025-11-01 05:36 (UTC)

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Page 1 of 68

Careful of the stacks - LIBRARY LOG

ASSISTANTS' LINE

Kaiisteron | The Rising World series

Konrad Curze | Warhammer 30k

Arrival

Bunks lmk if this is okay

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NOOO THE PATINA

Hikaru Aozora || Wonders of Mundus (novels)

Scouting

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scouting

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Re: scouting

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Re: scouting

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Re: scouting

Nara'a Sunvara (Warrior of Light) | Final Fantasy XIV

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Re: scouting