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!]
between the stacks
Once he was an acceptable distance away from the elder Sith, he put a hand to his chest and tipped forward slightly in a polite bow to his fellow Councilor.
It wasn't strictly necessary given that they were of the same rank but he still felt as though it was warranted given that Vowrawn was not one of the Sith who had denied his right to be a Dark Councilor and thus they were on decent terms so far as he was concerned. Whether or not he returned that respect Altair didn't care so much about.
Showing some respect would also allow him to avoid having this turn into a pissing match between Sith- not that he was overly concerned about that with Vowrawn given that he didn't seem the type, but better safe than sorry he supposed. Altair was an alien after all and he didn't know the elder Sith well enough to tell whether or not that was a problem when they weren't surrounded by the rest of the Council.
"Still haven't ruled out whether or not it's some sort of Force trap though- things don't feel quite like home here. And a trap would be designed to keep us in place."
He tilted his head, "Of course we both know that something would probably have tried to kill everyone here by now had this been one of our traps specifically."
As is the dark side's way of things.
no subject
"That it would. Were it one of ours, there might be a ferocious beast roaming about, or perhaps something to drain the life from us."
Darth Baras' trap was all too fresh in his mind, even though at least a year had passed.
no subject
He was quick to school his expression back to neutrality though given that what he'd done to Zash wasn't common knowledge and smiling fully would probably make this seem like a plot of his. And he would prefer to avoid making an enemy out of the other man.
"Doesn't rule out a Jedi trap, but given that there are people here from many different walks of life outside of ours... Well, they've never been the type to sacrifice innocents to sweep a couple of Councilors off the board unless they have to."
Altair supposed Vowrawn was a high-value target though, one where a Jedi might consider civilian losses to be acceptable in the grand scheme of things. But still. This place didn't feel like it was connected to the Jedi. It felt foreign. And sort of neutral. Tangible enough to not be a dream but not fully correct in the way that he sensed the world.
"That librarian I met after waking here did look to be Sith to my eyes though but at the same time they didn't particularly feel like one... Had the timing not been unfortunate I might have enjoyed the mystery..."
no subject
"This doesn't feel like a Jedi trap. They aren't this clever, and as you said, nor would they allow civilians to be caught within it as collateral."
He fingered the leaves of a zucchini plant, as if checking to see that they were real. They certainly felt real.
"Funny, the librarian I met appeared as a Sith too, though they didn't feel like one."
no subject
Of course Jaric Kaedan had been dead for a while now- Altair had made sure of that on Ilum.
Still given how Ashara had been when he had picked her up and that there seemed to be a number of Jedi who were willing to pull dirty tricks to rid the world of Sith he wouldn't rule a Jedi plot completely out just yet. A few of the Jedi he had met were a stone's throw away from being one of them after all- just without any of the wisdom and control that Sith who managed to survive through the Academy tended to have.
"Knowing my luck this is some new and entirely random Force phenomenon to get caught up in... I imagine you must have experienced your share of incidents too."
That was what it was like to be Sith, after all. At least in Altair's experience. Perhaps things had been different for Vowrawn when he had gone through the trials of his youth. Altair wouldn't pry though given that to pry in another Sith's business was an open invitation for resentment. Though something told him that the older man might enjoy comparing notes.
"Honestly I half thought I'd managed to get lost in Lord Thanaton's meditation chambers given that he does- did- have quite the collection of texts but the people tending to the library there would know better than to shush me," He said, given that he had been slightly stunned by getting shushed by someone who appeared to him to also be Sith.
That hadn't happened to him since he was an acolyte and back then it had been less being shushed and more being chased away when he had tried to go to the library to take a peek at what Ffon had been up to for his trial.
"Did they shush you too?" He asked as he stepped a little closer to the other man so that he too could inspect the produce- the very real and tangible feeling of soft leaves covered in morning dew. Seemed too real to be some sort of simulation.
no subject
"You show more respect to your predecessor than he may have shown you, had he been the victor." He'd known Thanaton since he was a young man, shortly before he'd been made a Dark Lord. Vowrawn wasn't entirely surprised when he'd ascended to the Dark Council himself, even if his tenure was short-lived.
"Indeed he did. I found it most uncouth, and unbecoming of how one would treat one of my stature."
no subject
"I respected him in life. I respect him in death too."
Even if Thanaton hadn't felt the same about him, Thanaton had been the ideal image of a Sith that Altair had modeled himself after.
"Even though he hated me I'm not obligated to feel the same. He will always be Lord Thanaton to me."
Altair's feelings on Thanaton were complex, but hate was not part of them.
He gave a thoughtful hum as he pondered picking some of the available produce. Part of him was rather anxious about not having access to his usual supply of ration bars. Though fresh vegetables in their pure form weren't really good for hoarding.
"Had they truly been Sith and had this been the Empire, I imagine that several heads would be rolling."
Both the librarian's and whoever their master might have been because it was not the manner in which one treated any member of the Dark Council.
"I suppose that whoever or whatever the librarian is is lucky that they didn't get Ravage."
no subject
"Oh, pity the poor soul who has to deal with Ravage." If you asked Vowrawn, it was about time that someone fought him for his seat on the Council. He was a poor choice for the sphere of Diplomacy.
no subject
"Like us, you mean?" He asked, with a small smile.
He refrained from saying that he wished it was Ravage he had beaten from one end of the Council chambers to the other rather than Thanaton- mostly because he thought Vowrawn might see an opportunity for entertainment in pitting them against each other should they find a way back where they belonged sometime soon. If Altair killed any more Councilors then he thought others on the Council might start considering him a threat that they ought to join forces to remove. And he'd rather avoid that entire clusterfuck that would weaken them further during wartime if he could.
"I've been tempted to ask him to just tune into meetings over holo so we can at least mute him whenever he decides he has something to say."
no subject
Often, Vowrawn wished that there was a better way to decide who got to be on the Dark Council, and that they actually vetted candidates. Half of the seats only got filled through murder, and the Sith way was to claim all assets of your fallen foe. That was all well and good, but it made for sub-par Council members, ill-suited to their roles. Vowrawn counted Mortis among the ill-suited as well.
"Oh, if only we could. But I think he simply likes the sound of his own voice and would take offense if he knew we didn't."
no subject
Some things the Council discussed he was actually interested in.
It didn't happen often given that his own Sphere wasn't primarily military, and whenever there was a meeting they all tuned into, he only ever voiced his opinion on the reclamation of their relics and holy sites that had been stolen from them by the Jedi. Occasionally that meant asking Marr to lend him the soldiers necessary to run the Jedi out of a certain area, but it wasn't often.
Perhaps things would change once they won the war.
He did enjoy hearing Vowrawn discuss how he ran his Sphere though even though such complicated logistics were a bit above his pay grade and he didn't fully understand the duties the other man carried out.
"Perhaps we should record him and play it back for him so he might actually hear himself how we do?"
Altair felt as though they might be getting a bit off topic from their predicament but given that there didn't seem to be an immediate solution, perhaps their best course of action was to chat like this so that they could both be reasonably sure that they could manage to be allies in a place that didn't seem to have a lot of people like them.
no subject
Nox had been otherwise occupied during that whole business with the Ascendant Spear, and could count himself lucky that he'd never had to interact with Darth Karrid. Her own time on the Council had been very brief, lasting less than a week. It just went to show why the Empire would do best to not put resources towards superweapons.
"We can all be thankful that someone suited for the role took Thanaton's seat. Someone actually suited to the duties required of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge." Which was his way of saying that he approved of Darth Nox.
no subject
The man would probably describe his voice as melodic.
The praise for his own work was unexpected and he blinked in surprise, a slightly more intense purple color rising to his cheeks. Sith didn't compliment each other often and very rarely did they do so without reason so he couldn't help but glance at the area around them to see if they did in fact have a third Councilor trapped here with them since the only reason to praise his work would be to imply to someone else that the two of them might be allied.
Seeing no one however, he did his best to return his expression to something more neutral and lifted his head to stand up more straight to put on the best show of being confident, "I only do the work required of me. So much of our history has been lost to us it is only right that I and my subordinates work to recover what's been taken from us."
Our history because he did see the history and the secrets of the Order to belong to him too. He was a Kallig, after all.
"... In all honesty I can only do my job as well as I do because of Sith like you and Lord Marr. I've tried to figure out the logistics of my Sphere's operations on my own before but I've deciphered ancient rituals that are easier to understand than some of those numbers... The people in your Sphere do impressive work."
no subject
"You are too kind, Darth Nox. I have seen your work and I am most impressed, so I do not doubt that your Sphere is in good hands. Already, we've recovered quite a bit of history since you took the seat."
As for him, if Marr was correct and Vitiate was dead, then perhaps it was time to set his sights higher than a mere Dark Council member.
no subject
"Any more direct flattery and I may assume you're plotting an assassination, you know," He said, though there was no bite to his tone that suggested that he meant in a way meant to be taken seriously. It was no secret to him that Vowrawn had the gift of the gab necessary to make allies out of most, nor did he think it was a secret to Vowrawn that Altair happened to be easy to make into an ally.
"In all seriousness, I'm certain we could have recovered more had it not been for idiots like Malgus. Like tending to our duties and to the war doesn't keep us all busy enough already..."
Had it not been for Malgus perhaps Marr could have found someone else to send to Makeb and Altair would have had more time to do what he did best- which was decidedly not covert operations.
no subject
"Malgus had some good ideas, but sadly he wanted more than he deserved. He nearly tore our Empire apart with his lust for power."
Vowrawn had heard about what happened on Makeb, and while Altair likely wasn't the most suited to that mission, he did perform admirably.
no subject
So he only smiled to indicate that he recognized the jest for what it was.
He followed it with a sigh then, and a tilt of the head, "Yes, I did not resent his ideas- he was right to think that we must change our ways to survive. But by turning traitor and essentially starting a civil war, he weakened us further instead."
Sometimes Altair wished he could mix the traits of certain Sith together like paint until he found a shade that was perfect for keeping the Empire strong and whole. Power and ambition alone were not capable of changing the Empire in any way that mattered. Any significant change needed a gentle hand and a shrewd mind capable of sneaking reforms in without anyone being the wiser.
Something he thought Vowrawn himself had experience with.
"Ambition is our right as Sith, but he could have been much smarter about it. With Malgus's stunt I have to wonder if his brain was as broken as his body."
no subject