Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
libraryassistants) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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!]
Viktor | Arcane
Coffee Corner
Between the stacks
Between the stacks
And the sunlight here. He could feel the warmth of it, but couldn't determine whether it was real or artificial. Were he back home, he knew it would have to be artificial. But with each passing moment it became increasingly obvious to him that he was somewhere else altogether. The allegedly idyllic Arcadia? Shimata? Titan? One of the other colonised planets? It was impossible to tell and the person at the front desk hadn't provided any answers.
At the sound of the man's voice he looked up, turning toward him. The name tag that was stuck to the front of his coat read KD6-3.7 — not a name, but the serial number that served as his designation. He could tell that the man was only talking to himself, but his hypothesis was too intriguing not to comment on.
"What makes you think it's magic?" the android asked. Man-made technology could facilitate similar shifting architecture where he was from, to say nothing of virtual reality scenarios, which is what made the suggestion of magic surprising to him.
no subject
"Considering our collective predicament, more magic besides the magic that was used to teleport us here seems the most plausible."
no subject
The quote was his way of acknowledging the other's belief in magic without necessarily agreeing. The android leant toward there being a more mundane rather than fantastical explanation for events, since real magic had never factored into his worldview. Advanced technology was far more familiar — he was, himself, living technology, after all, and came from a universe where highly advanced space travel and warp gates were well established. Warp gates could easily explain their arrival here, even if he didn't remember actually entering one...
But he was also willing to entertain the thought that he could be dead wrong. He'd been activated for barely a few months, who was he to decide what was magic and what wasn't? He took in the stranger's appearance with a kind of cautious curiosity, almost as though he wasn't sure if he was allowed to. Some humans did take exception to androids even looking at them.
"I can't recall entering a warp gate," he admitted, and seemed uneasy about that fact. "Can you tell me more about the magic that you think brought us here?"
no subject
"Perhaps instead of magic, I should just use the word "energy". Where I come from, the two words are interchangeable. And you are correct that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, therefore I ask you if this wouldn't qualify as being a sufficiently advanced type of technology? It is certainly one that I have not seen before and can only extrapolate from what I Iknow about magic."
no subject
"Technology similar to this exists where I'm from, but no one would actually call it magic." And that all but confirmed he and the stranger must come from... different universes?
He lowered his gaze back to the plants, seeing them in a new light. Maybe it was alien plant life, not even native to his own universe of origin. That raised even more intriguing questions about the man's identity. He looked human but might not actually be one.
"So this place is pulling in beings from all different universes." Notably not 'people', because he didn't think of himself that way. "To what end?" He was now thinking out loud himself. There was a pause, then he ventured to ask what was on his mind: "Are you a human?"
no subject
"I am not sure of what the outcome will be, but I expect that it has something to do with the books on the shelves. The ink gets lighter and lighter the more that you turn the page, as though the type setter were running out of ink on each page. Since we are sentient beings meant to read the words, I also theorized that each of the books holds some sort of gateway into the world."
He used his crutch to walk to a stone bench. And had a rueful smile that he kept to himself. K asked a loaded question there, but Viktor's own existential crisis with himself wasn't the answer that K was looking for.
"Yes, I am human. The obvious question then is: are you?"
Victor doubted that the answer was yes because humans did not often ask each other about their particular species.
no subject
Coming closer, he followed Viktor to the bench but remained standing. Having his question turned back on him was met with a guarded expression and there was a subtle but noticeable shift in his body language, as though he were bracing himself.
"... No." Even when removed from his handler, when removed from his universe of origin, his programming persisted: he was unable to lie about his identity. His name tag doubly ensured that. "I'm an android." A beat. "Do you know what that is?"
He would not be surprised to find his kind were common in the science fiction from other universes. They'd once been nothing more than fiction within his own home universe, after all. And they remained the villains in nearly all stories that they appeared in even now.
no subject
"As I understand the word, an Android means that you are a robot with a human appearance. If you are truly not human, then you are a perfect combination of organic and inorganic. Are you fully anatomically accurate?"
Viktor realized belatedly that it was a very improper thing to ask. His skin was so pale that the bright pink of his blush would stand out.
"Oh. I do beg your pardon. You certainly don't have to answer that. "
no subject
But here was a human who seemed... pleased? About his identity? It was mind-boggling. So much so that it took a second for the question to register, and when it did, his brow furrowed — then gradually eased at Viktor's reaction, which caused a slight smile to tug at the corners of K's mouth. With the way Viktor described androids, his interest struck K as more scientific than anything else. It was certainly preferable to the treatment he would usually receive from humans.
"These days we all are, even if it's irrelevant to our designated purpose." As it was for him; he wasn't a pleasure model. Unfortunately that didn't mean that his handler wouldn't solicit the same services from him should the mood strike her, and he suspected that was why they were all made anatomically accurate now. 'Just in case.'
"Have to admit, your reaction isn't what I expected. But since I answered your personal question..." He had some of his own, and it seemed like a good opportunity to try broaching them now. "What happened to you?"
He suspected it was more than merely an illness.
no subject
"The only thing that happened to me was growing up in a place that was so full of toxins that by the time I reached adulthood, my body was already breaking down."
Viktor didn't particularly like to talk about himself, but even he was aware that he looked like death warmed over.
"I suppose that's why I've been so drawn to this garden. Seeing plant life calms something in me that I didn't suspect."
coffee corner
Perhaps more. Of course none of them would ever dare to kidnap one of his rank and so he had quickly put the idea that this was a plot by an enemy to sweep him off the field to rest. Normally Altair would be quite pleased to find himself in a library but this was not exactly the sort of library he could enjoy getting lost in- he much preferred the Korriban academy's library even though the texts there were as likely to curse a reader as they were to enlighten them.
Of course there was probably plenty of value on these shelves too, just none that particularly appealed to him at the moment. Not as much as a cup of strong tea did at least which was why he had moved toward the little cart, footsteps soft as a shadow- he had been trained as an assassin, after all, the silent movement had become a habit.
As soon as he felt he wouldn't intrude on the other man's personal space he stepped up to pour himself a cup of tea- adding neither sugar nor creamer though his eyes did linger on the cookies in a way that suggested he might be thinking about it. The slight twitch in his otherwise neutral expression suggested there might be more complex thoughts going on than simple desire for a cookie, but whatever those thoughts were he didn't feel the need to speak them out loud.
Mostly because their predicament was a worthier topic, "Had it been any of them though, there would probably also be flickering lights and a sense of foreboding in the air."
A pause, and then, "And the refreshments would probably be cold."
That might have been a joke.
<3!
"I say give it time on the floating lights. There had to be a very sophisticated magic that brought us here, so it would follow that there would be use of more magic in time."
no subject
His own gaze remained on the other man's face as he spoke, since that was the polite thing to do.
"That is likely," He agreed, since Force mishaps happened almost all the time and they often tended to follow one after another in his experience. And he had a lot given that he tended to be rather accident prone when it came to mystical mishaps, "And would be what I'd expect."
He tilted his head and let out a thoughtful hum, "It is strange that I cannot sense whatever it was that pulled us here though... Usually when something happens I can get a fairly good read on the nature of the incident. Energy does have a tendency to linger."
Whether it was light or dark or the ghosts of emotions lingering about a ritual site in perpetuity. He couldn't get any such familiar read off of whatever had pulled him- and everyone else- here. Perhaps it was a power outside of his understanding and so he couldn't use the Force to get a read on it. Which was an uncomfortable thought. Though he supposed he should be glad that he was used to random things happening to him outside of his control.
Had it been any of his fellow Dark Councilors they would probably be upset and when Sith were upset they usually got violent about it.
"Of course it may be a different sort of magic than I myself use."
no subject
"Excuse me. I have always said that magic is just another word for energy. I would want to know more about what lingering energy you are able to sense?"
no subject
So instead he waited for the coughing to subside and tilted his head at the man's question.
"It depends. If a ritual of some sort has been preformed in a place I tend to be able to sense that and to sense its nature- whether it's light or dark, whether or not it required sacrifice to pull off... If a lot of power is channeled the air can feel almost electric in the aftermath for example and whatever emotion the practitioners might have felt might end up haunting the place too."
Altair had visited a lot of places where the echoes of Force rituals had lasted for longer than any one person had been alive and would continue to echo even long after he himself was gone.
"Some places are also a nexus where these types of energies occur naturally, but if that is the case here then it's a completely foreign phenomenon to me given that I can't seem to feel any of that either. Of course that might change once I get a feel for the place but for now this place just feels foreign."
no subject
"You are the second person that I have heard talk about the possibility of this library being a natural occurrence. I have to admit that my own theories align most with that idea, but I do think that there is also part of this library that's been added on to artificially. The dormitory is meant for long-term habitation, and I don't think that there would be any such preparations made for what is a natural occurrence."
Now Viktor had a small grimace of distaste.
"I know that there are types of magic that depend on using the life force of another and the blood magic that requires pain and sacrifice. I suppose it's a good thing that you are feeling that sort of magic."
Viktor was assuming that Altair was some sort of mage.
no subject
There had been that librarian, so it wasn't like they were alone in being here. And he was familiar with the concept of finding a nexus and deciding to build a civilization there given that the Sith and the Jedi also had a tendency to find appropriate planets for their purposes.
"I'm quite familiar with those types of rituals, yes. I was very nearly the victim of one, in fact."
He would have been sacrificed so that Zash could extend her life. Not something he liked to think about given that he knew that had Zash played her cards differently, then he would have gone willingly to the chopping block.
"I don't resent them, but I would be worried had this place felt darker..."
Not resenting them and not wanting to be part of them were two very different things after all.
Coffee Corner
His nametag practically chirps Hello, my name is Hikaru Aozora!
"It is unusual. They want us to do tasks for them, and yet most people taking slave labor want their victims weak, disoriented, and uneducated; well fed, sharp-eyed and intelligent slaves are better known as rebels. Slavers certainly wouldn't be giving their victims luxuries - maybe stimulants, but with sugar, creamer and cookies?"
He sips, frowns at his drink, then holds it out. A spectral blue hand grabs the coffee carafe and pours it into the mug, then replaces it as he takes another sip.
"I'm beginning to wonder if we were brought here on purpose, or just washed up on shore, so to speak."
no subject
"You are going to have to explain more about what you mean by "just washed up on shore". I have a hard time believing that it was some sort of cosmic accident that brought all of us here."
no subject
He grimaces. "I don't recommend trying to navigate them unless you know exactly what you're doing, which I did not, and thank Thorne and Io for Siobhan Greenwood. But you can end up very, very far from home if you misstep. Beached on unfamiliar shores."
no subject
"I do consider magic to be a natural force, but one that is an element of chaos. It can be beautiful or terrible, and sometimes both at once."
And considering that he has been experimenting on himself with things of a magical nature, it would make perfect sense if he somehow ended up in a liminal space, unwittingly.
"Did you become lost in such a liminal space?"
no subject
He shakes his head, smiling in fondness of that name despite himself. Then his face sobers.
"But I came close to it in those Neverglades. So it's been on my mind."
no subject
Not the least of which is how he managed to survive such a trip, but if it was a side effect of using magic to experiment on himself, it made terrible sense that he would find himself in such a place naturally.
"But since I do consider magic to be a natural, if chaotic force, does it then follow that we are stranded in this library? I hypothesize that we have been brought here for a purpose, and being confined only to this library does not seem like it would suit that purpose."