They say the gods never give us more than we can handle - Library Log

[libraryassistants]

Who: Editors, with a guest Assistant or two
What: The Library begins to change once more
When: The two weeks leading up to the next Story
Where: The Library, obvi
Content warnings: Please add content warnings to threads!

Once again, the Library begins to change. The wooden floor becomes more like cobblestone (complete with ‘the ability to trip you up easily if you’re not watching your step’), and there’s some little flags that look like the kind of things you’d get handed at a festival. As the week goes on, little carts and stalls pop up around the Library - most don’t have anything, but there are a few where some familiar ‘faces’ pop up to offer their wares. It’s mostly rocks. Some of them are shiny, at least?

The customary ‘Back In 5’ sign is now missing from the assistant's desk, and in its place sits one of said Assistants. Additionally, there is the now expected sign on the circulation desk: “This week’s Recommended Reading: Paladin’s Grace!” Unlike the previous readings, it seems this one is fairly straightforward in that there’s no mix-up of copies or alternate forms of media. However, on request, it does seem that there are some sequels available for reading as well.

Available are also an assortment of other books, such as What Kings Ate And Wizards Drank by Krista Ball, Livre de Chevalerie by Geoffroi de Charny, and Life In A Medieval Castle by Frances and Joseph Gies. There is a waiting list pinned by these; the intention is clearly to share and not squirrel them away. Off to one side is The Forme of Cury, which the Library is NOT automatically translating into something more legible; some may have to ask for help to riddle out its many, many recipes. Religious symbols of countless faiths sit on walls or propped on top of bookshelves and even in the kitchenette and sleeping area, from a set of ornate old-fashioned merchant's scales to the Eye of Horus and even ... a colander full of spaghetti … ?

There's a new door added to the rotating locations, a scrawled note taped to it reading "Stop breaking things!" This door leads directly to an endless forest, with a cheerful clearing, soft grass and pleasant birdsong. Some lucky souls will recognize it as the current iteration of the Safe Room, now freely accessible from inside the library; coming and going is now effortless! That is, unless someone's sent there via destruction of property or injuring someone else, at which point they must wait out the usual duration. The day and night cycle remains, but now and again the sky clouds over, and pleasant spring rains sweep across the forest. These same rain showers are a regular occurrence in the garden for the next two weeks, at a rate of one every two days or so, lasting a little while before fading back to the usual climate and "weather".

The kitchenette is offering a change in food items; there's now a variety of hard cheeses, breads and salted meats to pick from, as well as dried fruit, pickles, eggs, river-fish, porridges of assorted forms, and uncooked roasts. Unfortunately things to actually cook the roasts with, like ovens or even a fire, haven't been provided alongside them. Drinks have changed to a small selection of rustic wines and extremely watered down ales. (Water is of course freely available.) The Laundry has acquired a large wooden tub and a washboard.

Comments

kitchenette!!

[logosmaxima]

Naturally, even on a visit to the kitchen for a snack, Magnus would also have a book with him. Two, actually -- the recommended reading and The Forme of Cury, which he's been inseparable from for days.

"Sanguinius!" he exclaims delightedly, on seeing his brother present and likewise in possession of a book. Reading AND snack time with one of his brothers? Wonderful!

"I'd meant to find and speak to you. How fortuitous you're here. What is it you've brought with you?"

/cries at my lack of tag management.

[angel_of_baal]

"Where have you been keeping yourself, brother?" There's a quick gesture as he tucks something into a gap in his armor. He's wine tasting and he has to see which wines go well with, well...blood. It's not as easy as one might think!

The book is a much better distraction. "It is, I believe, an Old Terran version of Guilliman's vaunted Codex. It covers the comportment of a warrior, his honor, and tactics for combat." He really wants Guilliman to review it. "It is like reading an echo of our dear brother."

the grief is too real on my end too

[logosmaxima]

"In study and meditation -- a state some accuse me of spending far too much time in." The near-insouciance of his smile says he absolutely does not agree with the assessment, even if he certainly understands how it comes about. "I appreciate much more now your warning that these Stories are a ... disquieting experience."

Though perhaps not for all the same reasons that troubled his Actor brothers.

He does quirk a sculptured brow at that furtive gesture Sanguinius makes -- he doesn't miss much, even with only one eye -- but does not question it. Much as they are growing less secretive around each other here in the Library, each of them did deserve his privacy.

"Is this so? I would be very interested in hearing more of it myself, then." Though realistically: He'd be interested in hearing more of any book for any reason. "I have heard some of the Codex from your son Ulyssian -- the changes to the structure of our Legions,"

... wait. His good humor falters a moment. Whatever's happened to the XV Legion after his own future ascension to Chaos, given Roboute's lack of knowledge of their fates, they weren't among those serving the Imperium any longer. "To the structure of the Legions is remarkable."

[angel_of_baal]

"We have the time here, at least, to follow our interests here." Unlike back home, where they are kept constantly busy. Constantly in motion in their Father's service. "Well. Some of our interests." How is he supposed to live, laugh, spar in this place?

"I suspect. Well." Saying it to others was fine, but admitting it to one whose entire knowledge is sorcery, it sounds, perhaps, unhinged. "There is a theory." Hiding behind good old passive voice, "that this place puts us in these roles so as to cause that distress, that it might feed off of."

"This book seems benign but...," He shakes his head, frowning. No, it would feel like an insult to Guilliman's work.

[logosmaxima]

"A welcome opportunity, even knowing what we must return to." A sorrowful note underlies the sentiment. Blind Fates willing, they might all at least lay hands on enough knowledge -- enough opportunities -- to change their fated futures.

If not, perhaps it's better for them to remain trapped indefinitely in the Library. Even if it is -- as Sanguinius puts forth now -- some sort of vasty predator. The notion's enough to raise Magnus' other brow, but for all his expression, he considers the idea quite seriously. "There are warp-predators," pause, amendment: "daemons that function in exactly that mode. It is certainly not impossible, though I'd question why it bothers to give us such respite between the Stories to recover."

Perhaps because it allowed a greater intensity of negative emotion after a recuperation period? But it still seemed unlike the habits of other psychovores he'd run across (and destroyed). They were ceaseless in their predations ...

He shakes his head, slowly, eye gone grey. "I shall be more watchful for any signs it might be such a creature," he concludes.

Then he regards the -- offending? -- book in Sanguinius' hand. "But what has made you uneasy about it?"

[angel_of_baal]

His smile gets a little brittle around the edges. Yes. Home. Where his men are hurtling toward a confrontation with Horus, still licking their wounds, his Librarians still grappling with the magnitude of what they had done. Had they had the wisdom to stop when he disappeared? Were they right now searching for him? Did they presume it was another assault by the daemons?

They were not helpless, that he knew. They were his beloved Legion. They would not falter. But still, he worried. He missed them. "I long to return, even so." If his time with his men is so short, every day without them feels like a dreadful waste.

"These pauses between stories could be that its energy requires some recovery. Or...digestion." He shrugs. Look, he doesn't know how it works. He's only met two. "But also, as we know, what better way to cause a dangerous fall than to set it up from a greater height? Or, well, I am not proud of how I behaved after the first such Story. I was disoriented and that, too could be fodder for that beast."

Ask Curze, who got the brunt of it.

"I am uneasy because it appears so harmless. It speaks of the qualities of a good man, a good warrior, but also, it feels, well," he can't explain it. "It mentions god, a great deal. And my son here seems to hold the Codex as though it were exactly that. A religious text." Wasn't the whole point of the Imperium to be one without religion and superstition? An empire of reason and logic and clarity?

[logosmaxima]

The melancholy in his brother's usually brilliant aura is enough that Magnus must ask, "Do you also believe what we hurtle toward is inevitable?" There is no judgment in his voice -- not for Sanguinius, nor for Konrad, whom the question implies -- but the sorcerer's own sorrow at the thought grows, to give it voice.

He will not be convinced of the idea. He will do everything in his power to destroy the trap set for them, to spring them all -- even Roboute -- from the jaws of its consequence.

But it would be easier, if any of the others shared his hope in that possibility.

Still and all, there would be time for him to work on them. Unless Sanguinius is right in that it means to digest them all. "That is likewise possible," he allows; he would not dismiss such a concern lightly. "Though what little sense I get of it is that of a vast uncaring for our struggles, but -- "

A low sigh escapes him, and he moves to set his books upon the nearest table. He hasn't forgotten what he's come here for -- some kind of nourishment -- even if the conversation is ample distraction. "I have realized that even I may not be able to fully perceive the truth of one of these creatures."

A very large admission, and one he will do his best -- for the sake of his own pride -- to play off lightly. Let them instead talk about this proto-Codex Sanguinius is concerned about! Let him also make free with the various meats and other viands on offer, to assemble a suitable plate for himself.

"It would seem, without Father's direct guidance -- or that of our surviving brothers, whoever else might have made it as long as Roboute -- the Imperium has sunk into that old primitivism. Though I have known many great spirits, and wise ones, who clung to faith to answer questions that fell outside the reach of their own reasoning. It is not an inevitable poison to those who keep it in its place -- but it is in the great mass of believers that the greatest danger arises."

He frowns down at the improbably balanced stack of food he's assembling. There's a certain balance and artistry to it, but also: It's already quite tall and he's likely building it to look like it would fall over on purpose. "In your son's case, that belief does make me very concerned."

[angel_of_baal]

"I believe some things are fated to happen, though the time and place may change." Mkani Kano had spoken of this, of clusters of probabilities that shifted. And he had his own premonition of his death, ever changing, but just as sure, somehow. All he knew is he would never live to feel the touch of age and infirmity on him, and that he would die by the hands of someone he trusted. Loved. Because those details never changed.

Was that not enough?

"Does a hunter care for the struggles of its prey, or the farmer concern himself with the pains of his crops?" The Library and the thing beyond it need not care to reap benefit.

He doesn't shrug off Magnus's concern. It is what has happened, if Roboute is to be trusted. "Humanity fell into darkness before. The Great Crusade was begun to pull the scattered and benighted colonies of mankind back into the light of the Astronomican and the Emperor himself." They did it before. They could do it again. Even with his own sons, if need be. "His 'Chapter' is free of the curse. They can be freed of hidebound literalism as well." What would Ulyssian do if Sanguinius violated the Codex? Report him? To whom?

[logosmaxima]

A slow exhalation escapes the sorcerer at that answer. "I see. Do you then share Konrad's intractable visions of ruin?" It has the tenor of a black joke to it, but for all Magnus knows -- having missed one psyker among them -- each and every one of his brothers could be hiding an adept's potential.

Marvelous to contemplate but also, personally, devastating to his pride.

"I would say while they do not consider the pain they cause as they take their meals, both hunter and farmer are very interested indeed their prey remain healthy enough to serve their needs, til the harvest. This," he pauses a breath to balance a last pickle on his now decidedly pyramidal creation, "is more the feel of the farmer and an anthill, or the worms that churn the soil, or the fungus at the roots of his crop."

So long as it does its job, there is no reason to even think of it.

Having completed his creation -- largely for his own amusement -- Magnus brings it to the table to set beside his books, before turning his cyclopic regard on Sanguinius once more. "Perhaps," he allows, "but I did notice that he was very reluctant to believe any contradiction you offered to his convictions. Even when every other sign in his aura said he trusted and adored you.

"There is that crack in his faith in you, wedged there by his faith in what he has been taught."

[angel_of_baal]

"I have only ever been able to see my own demise, not the larger picture. My vision is...limited, but seeing the price the Night Haunter pays for his 'gift', I do not envy him." And Curze knew as much but would, if Sanguinius said that in front of him, twist it into pity. "I know that my own visions have shifted, meaning that the future cannot be fixed, preordained, each of us simply walking out our clockwork parts."

"And even he admits he has never foreseen this place." A grudging admission, but something.

Sanguinius wishes he could be as blithe as Magnus about the Library, and he teeters on a brink. On one side, trust his brother with the greater knowledge of the stuff of the Sea of Souls; on the other, his own suspicions, brought about from the injuries wrought on his Legion, and his own Librarians. So many dead, his sons of the Librarius, to bring him back, their lives given in direct trade for his.

It would feel like a betrayal not to hold at least a little wariness.

He takes a seat, half hidden behind the mountain of food. Like all things, Magnus tended toward ebullient excess. "I do not wish that. He should not feel conflict for my sake. In his life, I have been dead for...millennia." Perhaps that was for the best. Never meet one's idols, and all.

[logosmaxima]

... Well. Magnus had asked, and given their Father, and their own natures, perhaps he should not at all be surprised at Sanguinius' answer. "Contrary to Konrad's own convictions, that has also been my experience of the foreseeable future. My Corvidae would not be so useful as they are in battle if nothing foreseen could be altered."

Does he sound a little vexed about this? Yes, but it's not at Sanguinius -- he has been beating his head against the solid wall of Konrad's convictions about the future since his arrival. And while he had prevailed on their dark brother to permit him to help with his own afflictions -- which was no small thing! -- that obstinate wall still remains in the way of so much else they could do.

Like plot out an alternative to Nikaea, or save Prospero from the flames.

"But conflict is part of growth, brother," the sorcerer points out, apt -- perhaps -- to both lines of conversation. He pulls out his own seat -- slightly too small for him, until he finally gives in and sheds a foot or two to be nearer Sanguinius' height -- and settles into it. "From what I have gathered -- and I will admit, it is not as much as I'd wish before passing verdict on our future -- he is the victim of a time that has stultified in its errant faith in our Father."

A pause, and then more gently, "And in you, I think, and all the others who ... remained faithful." There. There is a flash of deeply personal pain on those last two words, so brief, but raw as wounds.

"Do you truly wish for him to remain so, even if it would spare him a little pain?"

[angel_of_baal]

"Our Nostraman brother is immovable on the topic. I have tried." He doesn't admit defeat easily, either.

Which he has not, entirely. He intends to keep trying. Perhaps they, combined, could wear him down.

"And yet," don't mind him reaching over to steal some food from the plate. "I do not wish to be venerated. Our sons should respect us, follow us. Love us, perhaps, even," Don't let Curze hear that last one. "But treat us as objects of faith? It is not what the Great Crusade was for. No matter how dark the future, it cannot have fallen that far." But even as he says that, he recalls Guilliman's dark tale. His sons, still beloved, but his Legion shattered into splinters, 'chapters'. "I dare say I see Lorgar's hand in that."

"And you cannot convince me you would betray our father. Or us." His gold eyes sought his brother's sole one.

Horus was hard enough to entertain the thought of, weighing heavily on his mind. And Magnus had had his chance, if betrayal was his aim, in Nikaea, after Nikaea.