libraryassistants: (Default)
Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account ([personal profile] libraryassistants) wrote in [community profile] unfinishedlibrary2026-03-27 07:21 pm

so good night unto you all - LIBRARY RETURN

Who: The Editors, one and all
What: The fight is over, the pieces remain... and the Editors head back 'home'
When: Dawn of the Final Day Sunrise after the attack
Where: Leaving Montica, back to the Library
Content warnings: Please make sure to put CW in headers!

By the time morning comes around again, the fires are beginning to die down, thanks to the many efforts of the citizenry to keep them under control. The rebel vampires too have been largely dealt with. These two seemingly insurmountable obstacles were only possible thanks to a combination of factors: the Umbra not being as blind to their human servants as their opposition would have thought, defectors from the Orlocks who were able to counter-act some of their magic, the following Amalia gathered and deployed from Laurelthirst, some suspicious (though welcome) help from suspiciously new arrivals, and of course, House Guildulf throwing their own into the fray to ally with the vampires for this confrontation.

A unity the likes of which Montica has never truly seen.

As the sun rises, there are few left who are able to fight at all; the rebels are beaten, and even the forces built up by both the vampires and werewolves are exhausted or diminished, leaving no one able to take advantage. Citizens of both sides flee indoors, and the remaining rebels are forced to vanish into the woods once more, weakened and unable to strike again any time soon. But there are still repairs to be done, physically and otherwise. Will this unity last beyond tonight? Will young love and youthful hope prevail? Those are the questions that settle over a weary Montica, as light pours into the city once more.

And then, the world begins to fade, static taking over the senses, as the Editors return to the Library.

Welcome back, Editors

It looks much the same as they left it, though the makings of a masquerade are no longer arranged as finely, a few scorch marks here and there, and for some reason there’s some amazing optical illusions on the floor panelling that makes them look like actual manhole covers. Alas, no sewers lay beneath. It may still take Actors a bit of time to shake off the old-new memories, and for some reason the fluorescent lighting seems harsher on the skin than it has any right too. Good thing that the stacks cast long shadows.

The customary tea cart is set up in the Lobby again, and it seems some improvements have been made. The coffee still isn’t strong, but’s far more drinkable than it has been, and there’s an added decaf option now! The tea has still been overstepped, and the stale cookies have been replaced by scones that are hard as rocks, but clearly someone’s getting the message that there are improvements needed. Clearly the tea cart was the place to start.

If someone for some reason doesn’t want stale scones, there’s also a child sized food truck in the lobby, with a sign out front boasting a variety of tamales, including: black beans and cheese, birria, chicken, fire scorpion, man suffering to death via battle wound, and beef. Upon approach, what look like fuzzy puppets pop up to… take your order? They don’t say much, or rather, they make a single noise over and over that seems to be them communicating, but the tamales are good. Just… don’t try to look in the truck. They’ll screech, vanish, and then no tamales for you.

Meanwhile, the bulletin board has a cheerful sign decorated with colorful blocks, declaring: “Join us in the Children’s Area for Lego Club!” Upon locating the room in question, Editors will discover boxes among boxes of legos of various shapes and sizes. There are some ‘how to’ guides for various builds (including a ‘research space ship’ and a ‘vampire’s castle’), but also plenty of encouragement for people to make their own creations! Unlike normal creations, these will actually stick around for a while after they’re finished, and there’s a nice little table where people can display and share what they’ve made.

The Assistants, it seems, are nowhere to be seen: the ‘back in 5’ sign is still in place at the help desk. Still, even without their ‘helpful’ guidance, some facets of the Library may come more easily to some in the aftermath of Montica’s troubles.

[Due to the resolution of the Story, any skills tagged Archivist in the skill tree cost one less skill point (minimum of 1) until the next Story. This can stack with a normal Archivist bonus!]
steelfeathered: (when exhausted)

[personal profile] steelfeathered 2026-03-30 10:15 am (UTC)(link)
Her narrow metaphorical spoon, sneaking through a gap into the mostly-inaccessible fount, returns with a coating of... outrage? That might fit with the set of his jaw. For her, for Stormwings? She blinks slightly out of sync, inner eyelids closing a bit faster than outer. It's not the kind of anger suggesting a threat to her, regardless.

"Pretty close." What's two or three decades at this point? The time stretches on, flowing like water through her hands. Talons.

"Heh. Our poor mortal cousins do their best, but ravens and vultures just don't strike terror in the same way, and they can be warded off." Making a pyre for the war dead is still common, she's been told - she does not scry for these things - but she expects it's more out of practicality by now. "They've forgotten us. Humans, I mean."

She considers a moment. Should she tell him about the population crisis, the few children hatching, the eggbound deaths? Maybe not. What could he or anyone possibly say?
unsheathedfromreality: (on this vessel as it carries me)

[personal profile] unsheathedfromreality 2026-03-30 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
There's enough similarities between their people -- at least, in terms of the role they play for their respective worlds -- that Illarion could conceptualize the Stormwings as very distant cousins. Except they had been made to be what they were, as innocent in their choice of diet as the ravens and vultures were, and that made animosity against them worse somehow than what shrikes faced.

Shrikes, after all, had chosen to become horrors.

"Or poisoned," he mutters, of the birds. That -- also -- is a source of anger, though it's a far older wound. "That was the point, wasn't it? So they could forget you."

Well done, in that case.

He drops his gaze the other -- inadequate -- tamales he brought. He'll eat them later, so they won't go to waste -- animal flesh was still flesh, as far as his ability to heal went, but it's not the best for that purpose -- but ...

"We need to freeze some of the others. For later. Or otherwise find a way to keep -- "

A pause. " ... The flesh of thinking beings is enough for me. Is it something different, for you?"

This is now a problem to be solved. Part because she's close enough for a cousin (for flock), part because there's something older, instinctive, in him that says she can bear eggs and he can't and therefore it's his duty to see her provisioned well enough that she could have a nest in some far-off time. When conditions were better than they are.
steelfeathered: (understandings.)

[personal profile] steelfeathered 2026-03-30 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Poisoning carrion birds so they can't feed on the dead left after battle is so on the nose, any poem she wrote on the topic would clunk.

"In the lands around where they held the consortium, mortals and Immortals fought often. The kinds of Immortals who aren't ravening monsters, I mean, and can choose and have leaders, and ideology, and armies. So the idea wasn't something petty, I think. I have no idea if they chose the scope. Immortals humans don't find threatening, little winged horses and so on, were caught up in it too." She shakes her head. "It's how it is."

Hisako's found some sense in it like that. Stormwings from the region tend to be particularly bitter about all sides involved but as she said, she was far away.

Freeze them... he's thinking of her, and beyond a moment's charity. Huh. She shifts her weight, re-puncturing the bed she's on.

"Why do you have to eat anything, if you're dead?" She knows he had some, she can smell it on him, a little. Hisako wrinkles her nose. "It's specific. Warriors killed in battle are the only certain ones. Past that we've got a lot of arguments about the rules. Old soldiers, warmongers, profiteers, there's a rolling debate about who counts as profiting, it's all just chewing the same bone long after there's no taste left."