Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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unfinishedooc2025-10-21 06:46 pm
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedooc2025-10-21 06:46 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME #1
Welcome To The Library
You awake in the stacks.
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and the memories of the last things you were doing are hazy at best. But now you’re here, and all you can see is books in every direction, the bookshelves teetering high enough above you to reach to the sky.
A helpful sign points you in the direction of the main circulation desk, and even if you try to ignore it and go in any other direction, the desk is where you will find yourself. A figure sits behind the desk, not even looking up as they sort through books and other media; they look, to your character, to be the exact picture of what they expect a Librarian to be.
Trying to the Librarian a question will get them shushed, but they’ll point down a hallway to the side, leading to a kitchenette and what appears to be a dorm room, where they’ll find they’re not alone in this strange place. But once they’ve looked away, when they look back, the Librarian is gone.
Welcome to the Unfinished Library
Coffee Corner
Sometime after your arrival, you enter the lobby to find yourself greeted by what appears to be a little tea cart containing a carafe of very weak coffee, a pot of very strong tea, mismatched creamers and sugar packets, and assorted cheap boxed shortbread cookies alongside small paper plates and cups. (For some reason, there also seems to be a pile of coupons for a free yacht ride.) There is a sign next to them, stating:
Welcome Editors!
Please enjoy these complimentary refreshments.
Do NOT take food or drink into the stacks and please wash your hands BEFORE touching anything.
Looking around, you see that you and everyone else present have also been supplied with sticker name tags with “Hello, my name is _____.” Take it off, and it will magically be replaced by a new one. It seems it’s time to mingle, or perhaps try to get anywhere but here.
There is also a phone set up on the desk, with a small sign labeling it as the “Assistants’ Line.” Give it a try, and you might get someone to talk to.
Between the Stacks
While exploring the labyrinthine sprawl of the Stacks, you find a door tucked between the towering bookshelves. Opening it, you see the impossible: a community garden, fresh produce glistening with morning dew and ripe for the picking. The open sky stretches welcomingly overhead, the warmth of an unseen sun warming the soft grass underfoot.
A large fence spans the generous perimeter of the garden. No matter how high you go, the fence follows with you. Those trying to get a peek on the other side should make a plan.
When the room is no longer in use and the door is closed, the garden will disappear; rotating out of cycle. The next time the door opens, maybe it’s a computer lab - decked out with technology from… some planet and century. Or maybe it’s a meeting room, complete with someone else’s handouts scattered across the table. Closing and reopening the door will reveal a different room each time. What's your pick?
Maker’s Meetup
There’s a cheerful, if not generic, poster on the bulletin board by the help desk, declaring:
The Maker Space in question is, for the moment, easy to find, a few nice and similarly formatted signs with arrows helping leading the way through the stacks. As promised, there are a number of machines and tools related to crafting and making things, including a table that, for some reason, just has construction paper and safety scissors.
It seems the materials for the room have been recently stocked, too; there’s a little pile of fabric (mostly scraps, but a lot of larger pieces that can be made into something without needing to piecemeal it together), some sheet metal of various sheens, and bits of wood that could be shaped into something maybe as large as a small bowl. There are also some more generic arts-and-crafts materials (on a separate table from the scissors); puff balls, popsicle sticks, pipe cleaners and other sorts of things.
There doesn’t appear to be anyone actually around to teach the use of the machines, but it can’t be that hard… right?
Transition In - Prepare for Dheekis
In the Lobby, things begin to… change.
The tiled floors have started to fuzz along the grout, the colour and texture slowly bleeding out into cool grey metal. The change continues to flow up the walls, coloured strips of lighting dividing sturdy steel segments. What few doors there are shimmer, an overlay of automated mechanisms clinging closely to them. Hydraulic pistons pump as if pushing the doors open when you approach, but alas - these doors remain sadly hand-operated.
Within a few moments, gravity in the Lobby seems to decrease. Steps are lighter; a jump turns neatly into a bounce, leaving you hanging weightless in the air for a few long moments. The furniture remaining in the lobby begins to float, as do any items that have been left loose. If it’s not nailed down, consider it airborne.
The effect spans only the space (ha) of the Lobby. Exiting to another room will bring an unceremonious return to the Library’s usual gravity, and please note: the success of your landing is not guaranteed. Please proceed cautiously.
After some time - maybe it's days, who's to say? - you begin to feel it. A pull that tugs you to the Stacks, drawing you step by step closer to the next Story to unfold.
The Difficulty with Dheekis
On the SS Covenant, things usually run pretty smoothly. Usually. Unfortunately, there was an… incident at the last stopover at the Eternis Station. One of the crew members became utterly besotted with one of the little creatures the Eturian ambassador carried them with, called dheekis, and the ambassador was more than happy to gift them one. Unfortunately, the reason they were so willing to do that is that the fluffy little creatures, somewhere between a bunny and a rodent, are very prolific breeders, and additionally can procreate asexually when there’s only one of them around. Which means that after a week in space, it was no longer possible to keep them hidden.
Since then, it has been a game of trying to capture and contain the little pests, shoving them into boxes so they’re packed tight- dheekis only stop reproducing when there is literally no more space for them. And they are trying very hard to fill up the void space on the ship; they’re under beds, in rafters, engineering nooks, forgotten corners, you name it. How long will it take to get rid of them all? Can you get rid of them all? Because if you have one dheeki, it won’t stay one for long.
[This is a free-form ‘Story’ prompt and cannot be considered canon to the game; since there’s no information post, feel free to make up whatever details you like!]
You awake in the stacks.
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and the memories of the last things you were doing are hazy at best. But now you’re here, and all you can see is books in every direction, the bookshelves teetering high enough above you to reach to the sky.
A helpful sign points you in the direction of the main circulation desk, and even if you try to ignore it and go in any other direction, the desk is where you will find yourself. A figure sits behind the desk, not even looking up as they sort through books and other media; they look, to your character, to be the exact picture of what they expect a Librarian to be.
Trying to the Librarian a question will get them shushed, but they’ll point down a hallway to the side, leading to a kitchenette and what appears to be a dorm room, where they’ll find they’re not alone in this strange place. But once they’ve looked away, when they look back, the Librarian is gone.
Welcome to the Unfinished Library
Coffee Corner
Sometime after your arrival, you enter the lobby to find yourself greeted by what appears to be a little tea cart containing a carafe of very weak coffee, a pot of very strong tea, mismatched creamers and sugar packets, and assorted cheap boxed shortbread cookies alongside small paper plates and cups. (For some reason, there also seems to be a pile of coupons for a free yacht ride.) There is a sign next to them, stating:
Welcome Editors!
Please enjoy these complimentary refreshments.
Do NOT take food or drink into the stacks and please wash your hands BEFORE touching anything.
Looking around, you see that you and everyone else present have also been supplied with sticker name tags with “Hello, my name is _____.” Take it off, and it will magically be replaced by a new one. It seems it’s time to mingle, or perhaps try to get anywhere but here.
There is also a phone set up on the desk, with a small sign labeling it as the “Assistants’ Line.” Give it a try, and you might get someone to talk to.
Between the Stacks
While exploring the labyrinthine sprawl of the Stacks, you find a door tucked between the towering bookshelves. Opening it, you see the impossible: a community garden, fresh produce glistening with morning dew and ripe for the picking. The open sky stretches welcomingly overhead, the warmth of an unseen sun warming the soft grass underfoot.
A large fence spans the generous perimeter of the garden. No matter how high you go, the fence follows with you. Those trying to get a peek on the other side should make a plan.
When the room is no longer in use and the door is closed, the garden will disappear; rotating out of cycle. The next time the door opens, maybe it’s a computer lab - decked out with technology from… some planet and century. Or maybe it’s a meeting room, complete with someone else’s handouts scattered across the table. Closing and reopening the door will reveal a different room each time. What's your pick?
Maker’s Meetup
There’s a cheerful, if not generic, poster on the bulletin board by the help desk, declaring:
The Maker Space in question is, for the moment, easy to find, a few nice and similarly formatted signs with arrows helping leading the way through the stacks. As promised, there are a number of machines and tools related to crafting and making things, including a table that, for some reason, just has construction paper and safety scissors.
It seems the materials for the room have been recently stocked, too; there’s a little pile of fabric (mostly scraps, but a lot of larger pieces that can be made into something without needing to piecemeal it together), some sheet metal of various sheens, and bits of wood that could be shaped into something maybe as large as a small bowl. There are also some more generic arts-and-crafts materials (on a separate table from the scissors); puff balls, popsicle sticks, pipe cleaners and other sorts of things.
There doesn’t appear to be anyone actually around to teach the use of the machines, but it can’t be that hard… right?
Transition In - Prepare for Dheekis
In the Lobby, things begin to… change.
The tiled floors have started to fuzz along the grout, the colour and texture slowly bleeding out into cool grey metal. The change continues to flow up the walls, coloured strips of lighting dividing sturdy steel segments. What few doors there are shimmer, an overlay of automated mechanisms clinging closely to them. Hydraulic pistons pump as if pushing the doors open when you approach, but alas - these doors remain sadly hand-operated.
Within a few moments, gravity in the Lobby seems to decrease. Steps are lighter; a jump turns neatly into a bounce, leaving you hanging weightless in the air for a few long moments. The furniture remaining in the lobby begins to float, as do any items that have been left loose. If it’s not nailed down, consider it airborne.
The effect spans only the space (ha) of the Lobby. Exiting to another room will bring an unceremonious return to the Library’s usual gravity, and please note: the success of your landing is not guaranteed. Please proceed cautiously.
After some time - maybe it's days, who's to say? - you begin to feel it. A pull that tugs you to the Stacks, drawing you step by step closer to the next Story to unfold.
The Difficulty with Dheekis
On the SS Covenant, things usually run pretty smoothly. Usually. Unfortunately, there was an… incident at the last stopover at the Eternis Station. One of the crew members became utterly besotted with one of the little creatures the Eturian ambassador carried them with, called dheekis, and the ambassador was more than happy to gift them one. Unfortunately, the reason they were so willing to do that is that the fluffy little creatures, somewhere between a bunny and a rodent, are very prolific breeders, and additionally can procreate asexually when there’s only one of them around. Which means that after a week in space, it was no longer possible to keep them hidden.
Since then, it has been a game of trying to capture and contain the little pests, shoving them into boxes so they’re packed tight- dheekis only stop reproducing when there is literally no more space for them. And they are trying very hard to fill up the void space on the ship; they’re under beds, in rafters, engineering nooks, forgotten corners, you name it. How long will it take to get rid of them all? Can you get rid of them all? Because if you have one dheeki, it won’t stay one for long.
[This is a free-form ‘Story’ prompt and cannot be considered canon to the game; since there’s no information post, feel free to make up whatever details you like!]
no subject
[Hidden as it was, covered by a perpetual storm, the facility didn't exactly see the sun. And of course he kept the mammet- Erich may not know who it was from or who actually delivered it, but while everything was falling apart it was a comforting presence. As for the physical contact, Erich wasn't against it, he merely was raised by a rather distant mother and his father's coworkers, it was just.. not fate for him.]
I'm still alive, for what it's worth. [Unlike so many others of his kin. But for now? He smiled, even if it faltered just slightly at the other's question. He didn't want to ruin their meeting.] I... learnt a few new things. I was in the middle of recording a memory crystal when I was whisked here. [The same one that brought a certain someone to Pandaemonium to begin with, but he's avoiding to sound too depressing about it.] What about you? Your world has always seemed much larger than mine, I can only imagine the wonders you've seen.
[Perhaps they could discuss about their studies? There was a pang of nostalgia when he remembered their conversation and the other's curiosity. Little Themis merrely bounced in the man's direction in the meanwhile, trying to climb on his working station to check what was being made.]
no subject
[In the middle of recording a memory crystal... ah. His face falls a bit, knowing any attempt to hide it will just make him look guiltier. He gives the man's arm a squeeze before taking a step back, looking at the other seriously.]
I... can tell you this place is somewhere neither of us know, nor is connected to our star in any way I can imagine so... if you've reached that point I suppose I can tell you.
[He can imagine Hades' annoyed face, but that's not his problem.]
I've seen so many things... but I know what has befallen the star at this time. I... I know because I am from far in the future, from your point of view. It's been over twelve thousand years.
[There's a half-finished bow on the table, just an idle project. It's really more of a children's toy than a proper hunting bow.]
no subject
[A tiny bit of confusion appears on his face, no one knew the content of what was being recorded after all, nor any of his coworkers was present for that... so he had no context for the other's shift in mood.]
I am aware we're far from our Star, yet I'm... lost. Have you found the reason so many souls have been brought here, perhaps?
[A moment of silence follows then as he blinks in the warrior's direction, head tilting just a bit to the side. From... the future? That would explain why so many souls didn't seem to be able to explain his presence or what the miqo'te was, not even Lahabrea or Elidibus. Part of him could hardly believe it, but a selfish side of Erichthonios couldn't dismiss what that meant...]
That would explain why you arrived at the right moment to assist and how you disappeared right after solving our issues. [A sigh of relief escaped his lips, then. If the man came from the future, then life managed to find a way to survive the End of Times. He was never going to see it, not by choosing to remain in the Pandaemonium, but...] I'm glad to hear that, it must mean the Convocation found a way to save our kin and keep the star alive. Thank you, your words bring so much relief to my heart.
[Oh, what a misunderstanding...]
no subject
They did, but... then there was a plan to -
[His hands are shaking. How does he explain this?]
Your kin wanted to cultivate the star again... and sacrifice all of those souls to bring back those who had been lost earlier. And that would mean sacrificing thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of lives. So there was a faction that could not abide that. ... They summoned their own primal to bind Zodiark, and split the star into a Source and thirteen reflections.
[Gesturing to himself, he lets his shoulders slump. He can practically hear Ardbert sighing.]
The reason my aether is so 'thin' is because, while some of those reflections have been rejoined by those of your kin who survived the Final Days, I am only a bit more than half of one of your souls. ... And I have an extra reflection's version of me in my soul, so most of the people I know are even thinner in aether. Not to mention the ones on the reflections that are only one fourteenth of your souls... one of your fellows considered us not alive.
But we are. We are as alive as the Phoenix, as the Carbuncle, as you or anyone else. The density of our souls doesn't matter - only the quality of our lives.
no subject
Other's hands and posture tell him this is far from a lie. The warder's whole body tenses up as he takes in a deep breath, bright red eyes not leaving the other man's figure in an almost silent begging request to tell him nothing of that was true.
Erich's aether was 'thin' because his mother experimented on him, other people had smaller aether pools than others, there could be explanations that didn't involve the Star being split... right?]
Themis was chosen to be the heart of the summoned creature, his heart is kind, he wouldn't...
[He would be the first one to put a stop to further sacrificing lives, right? Erich looks down at his feet where Elidibus's mammet looks up in his direction with an almost questioning tilt of its head. It was hard for him to accept those words, to imagine a world split in many different copies (Alternative dimensions, perhaps? There were theories on that matter, but Erichthonios rarely paid attention to books speculating on things that could only be theorized, not proved in any way.
But... survivors of the Final Days? Trying to bring things back together? He can at least see that, maybe it's just all part of a giant plan he cannot hope to fully understand with his limited information. The warder does shake himself back to reality after a moment.]
I do admit it is... a lot to accept for me. I do suppose it still is a triumph of life despite existence as a whole being threatened...
[He needs a lighter topic, anything, because the weight in his chest is heavy once more but he doesn't want to completely sour their meeting.]
I am shocked Carbuncle still exists. It was deemed unfit for survival in so many ways, between its constant state of appetite and its bright colors making it a poor predator outside of very specific biomes.
[Not as light hearted as he hoped, sadly.]
no subject
Carbuncles are much smaller now, generally summoned from gemstones. Mine is a little rascal that keeps trying to eat through my socks when I summon him.
[That humor aside, he reaches out to take his friend's hand, to hold it gently.]
Themis... he was kind. But he also was driven, and being the heart of Zodiark warped his mind in many ways. He wanted to protect you all. We... had to fight, in the end.
[Several times, but once was bad enough.]
... I know you cared for him. In the end, he was free to be Themis once more before he was returned to the Underworld. He was the one who made it possible for me to go to the past, giving up most of the remnants of his aether to power the portal. I -
[His eyes prickle with tears and he blinks hard, trying to keep his composure.]
I tried to save them. But your father was too twisted from revenge and pain, Emet-Selch was too zealous in trying to bring your people back, Themis... Themis was losing his memories, himself...
And then the others of the Convocation were split, and even those were aware of the plan... I'm sorry. We had to protect ourselves. Protect life as we know it now, not how some might know it in your time.
[He reaches for his friend's hand, holding it gently.]
But the part of you that exists on the Source, where I am from... I found him. And in a strange way, you saved him. It's... even more complicated to explain, but.. he's a good man. Just as you are. Just as I know you always will be, no matter what form you are in. Kind and determined and devoted to research and utterly ridiculous in your own way.
[Nara'a smiles, even as the tears start to roll down his face.]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you and I'm sorry you had to find out. But your message was what let me find you in the first place. It's all connected.
[It's not for nothing. It never is. It can't be.]
no subject
[The colors of his parents' eyes... he's pathetically predictable after all. And while Erichthonios may be aware of how little his mother cared about him, he still- there's a part of him that still wishes she wasn't as cold as he found out. He opens his mouth again to speak once more, but the other reaches for his hand and the researcher freezes- it's a rather intimate gesture by his standards, but at the same time he attempts to reframe it with the lens of 'this is a person from another time, perhaps it's not as uncommon for them'. At least he can appreciate what seems the attempt at comforting him.
His eyes don't leave their hands as he listens in complete silence. His heart weeps for his father and Themis, he wonders what he'd doo if he was forced to go in a doomed past and be unable to help and... well, he may not be familiar with Emet-Selch, but that doesn't stop Erich from grieving his people as a whole.
There was so much he still wanted to see and do, so many people he never got to meet and learn from...]
This... [His voice almost cracked there and he had to fight his own feelings to regain his composure.] is a lot. I struggle to imagine my father like that and to hear that Themis would fall to the same creation he was supposed to guide is- he was my friend. Before meeting the two of you, I didn't know what friendship was like so I...
[His chest bubbles with negative feelings, of course it does, but there's nothing he can do to make the situation better, is it? He was bound to return to the Star from the Pandaemonium, he even said his formal goodbyes to Themis when they last spoke, and- there was nothing he could do, not even by going back to his time, to fix anything.
He was going to eventually need some time to process things for himself, that was a given, and he barely noticed the little mammet climbing his robe to plop on his shoulder until it was sitting there. From that elevated position, the mammet opened its arms, trying to reach the other man- as limited as its programming was, it at least knew when it was time to comfort someone. It just stood there, little arms waving and inviting the man to pick them up for comfort.
Right... that one friend of his was gone, but he could at least try for the miqo'te, right?]
I...
[Oh- Nara'a was... crying? Guilt also found space on his chest and he dropped any comment he could have on him being reborn once more as a researcher and apparently being sommeone the miqo'te knew, focusing instead on what he could do to help.
In the end, he awkwardly raised his free hand up, trying to pass the sleeve on the other's face to wipe the tears, their other hands stay otherwise linked for now. Oh... he's tearing up as well...]
It's okay. I mean, it's not okay but... you know what I mean, right?
no subject
No. None of what happened was okay. ... We did find the cause of the Final Days, however. And she will not be leading any more civilizations to their doom. ... I can't say everyone is totally safe, but from something that dramatic... we're safe for now.
[Everything seems to fall apart around him. It's not okay and he has to remind himself of that sometimes.]
But you're here. You're here and you're safe and maybe others will find their way here, too. Hope... even faint hope can help us through. ... I'm just sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I just... I felt awful not telling you the whole truth...
no subject
She... [So the cause wasn't just aether gone wild, it wasn't some kind of weird phenomenon, it was something caused by someone. Even if he wasn't a touchy person, even if until a moment earlier he didn't seem to know what to do with his own hands, Erich wrapped his arms around the other and rested his chin in a position that made him sure the other wouldn't see his expression, he always had some issues with anger but right now he didn't think he could hide his rage no matter how much progress he made since the events in Pandaemonium.] At least you and your people... you're safe. That's something to celebrate.
[Yet he could feel no joy. Yes, he was 'safe' now, but any hope he had in the Convocation's plan to save everyone just got crushed and it wasn't just that...]
I suppose so... and I cannot blame you. If all this is true, and I have no reasons to doubt you, I... I admit I would have struggled to admit the truth myself. And if you told me the so called 'paradise' my people shared on the star was about to end, I am not certain I would have trusted you.
no subject
[He gently but insistently guides the other over to a chair so he can sit. This is a lot.]
Life, in its infinite forms, will continue. It will fight on. The end of one thing, a calamity... doesn't mean nothing will ever live again. It's cold comfort, I know... but it does mean hope is alive.
no subject
[He does accept to sit down on the chair, but little Themis seems more worried about Nara'a at the moment than its owner: the mammet jumps in the miqo'te's direction, trying to cling to his clothes and give him a small hug.]
It is not your fault. If the convocation couldn't stop... that. Her. Then it's a miracle anyone could. Even if much much... later. [What is he even supposed to say? Even back home he had no way to reach again, to help anyone, and even if he was now grieving even more- he had to learn the hard way there was no point in kicking and screaming and crying like a child over things he couldn't change. There was hesitation before he raised one hand up, awkwardly resting it on the other's shoulder.]
Everything changes. I will not say I'm not sad, nor that I'm not mourning my people, but at least life will persist. It is a small consolation, but the world that will be- it cannot be so bad if people like you live in it... right?
[It was a more positive view than the one he had at the moment, but there was no running away... right? And they probably had to focus on whatever fate had tossed in their direction right now.]
I... do you want to tell me more about the future world, maybe? Or show me what you were working on? I had a coworker who specialized in sleeping arrows but I cannot say I've ever seen a bow being crafted.
no subject
[He can't stop apologizing, but... better the bitter truth than a sweet lie. He puts his hand on the other's, looking over at what he was crafting.]
Ah, yes. A basic hunting bow - my particular species tends towards a hunter-gatherer lifestyle. My subspecies usually has hunt clans that are several families that live together - no males other than children being raised. I... am particularly miserable at shooting a bow.
[He taps the scar across his face, a sheepish grin breaking through his expression.]
The recoil can be nasty. So I was put to work on building and maintaining equipment and keeping the camp safe while others went on hunts.
no subject
[If the convocation failed, if it took thousands of years to stop 'her', then what could he expect from a single person? No matter how strong anyone could be, if Lahabrea and Elidibus couldn't fix things he....]
I cannot say I can understand a lifestyle like that one. Anything consumed in the Pandaemonium was aetherically created, from fruits to vegetables.
[He was going to focus on a different topic, of course. It was easier, it was going to give him time to process everything, it was going to be a way to navigate his own feelings in a more private way... instead of bursting them out like last time he got 'emotional' in public. (Which ended up with him being captured and all).]
And, huh... are males rare between your people, perhaps? [He couldn't even imagine gender being so relevant for any culture.] But for what it's worth, there's no shame in scars. I have plenty from my time working in Pandaemonium. I used to be rather miserable at... holding down creatures of any kind.
[A moment of silence, then. Those were all things his kin did with magicks and little effort (something Erich couldn't do himself most of the time, sadly.), but...]
A weapon you still have to master... it's quite the surprise, to be honest.
no subject
[He nods at the question.]
They do tend to be rare among my people - less so in the other sub-race. My people rarely have more than two or three sons born to a mother, and even having three in a clan is seen as a lot. They tend to believe men are best in small doses.
[He's not... totally against that sort of thought, either. Young males eager to prove their worth can be... a lot.]
[At that remarks, he shakes his head. Is it really so unbelievable?]
I tend towards skills where the aether is a bit more... unstable. Destructive, sometimes. Healing... is not one of my gifts. I have a few skills that I can heal with but they're very... weak. Usually I'm better off letting someone else try to heal if they can while I kill whatever's harming us. I know some field medicine, so I can wrap wounds and make sure there's no debris in them but I'm no healer.