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
"I just don't want to share my name," it says. It sounds defensive. (It is defensive.)
no subject
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(It's a bit of an awkward answer, though. Because technically, it isn't on the run. Even in the Corporation Rim. Mensah bought it, so as far as the Corporates are concerned it can legally go wherever the hell it wants, as long as they think Mensah is telling it to do so. Not to mention, the Company didn't have a name for the SecUnit. They had a serial number.
But the SecUnit still has to hide what it is, wherever it goes.)
"Do you want help defacing your sticker or not?"
no subject
She cocks her head though.
"But here I am, a stitched together zombie, and you aren't even slightly weirded out by that. Which means you're either a very strange sort of person...or there's something I'm missing."
no subject
Then it frowns. "Zombie?" It asks.
no subject
"You think I decided to do this for fun? And goddamned right I'm a Zombie - and not by freaking choice, either."
She'll see his annoyed and raise it with outright pissed off.
no subject
It's upset the human, and it doesn't entirely know why. It doesn't have that word in its language dictionaries; human language has changed a lot since they colonised other planets.
(There is one part it can figure out, though. She didn't choose those augments. For a ComfortUnit, those kind of modifications were normal. That happened all the time. But...humans? No one forced those kinds of changes on humans.
Not without very, very wrong happening.)
"Someone forced your augments on you?" It says, as a distressed look flashes across its face.
no subject
And far more, besides. God, her feelings about Victor Frankenstein were complicated.
"Zombie. Undead. Reanimated. Unnatural monster." Though she smiles sardonically at the last one. She's proud of that, she owns it as hers.
no subject
(Suddenly, as it looks at the Bride, it is not longer a fun, unrealistic thing.)
"I didn't think anyone could...do that," it says.
no subject
no subject
(Although apparently she did, so...who knows.)
Either way. If whatever this human did died with him, then that's sounds good to the SecUnit. It knows it wouldn't want Corporates figuring out the same trick.
"Are you...okay?" It says, tentative and uncertain. Being dead doesn't seem like it'd be a good time. But it's never been dead; it doesn't know what it would be like. But it suddenly feels very important that she should be okay.
no subject
"Suffice to say," she finishes, "it's left me a very aggravated, cranky woman who doesn't put up with nonsense."
no subject
She's...like a construct. She's human, and dead, but she's like a construct. Because they don't think she's a person.
"Yeah," it says. There's a weird lump in its throat. (It feels a strange and irrational desire to tell her that it's a construct, that it isn't meant to be a person either. It ignores that urge.) "Fair enough."
no subject
"Right. Then let's move on, shall we? Now that we understand each other a bit better."
She notes the very sudden absence of that vague disdain and aggravation she's been detecting, after all.
no subject
And then it just kind of...stands there, looking awkward and a bit lost. It's not good at interacting with humans, especially ones it doesn't know. It doesn't really know what to do next.
no subject
"And you don't have any more idea what's going on or what to do about it than I do," she says.
And then screams an expletive at a...significantly higher volume.
no subject
And then it blinks, when she screams.
"You've got volume," it observes. It's kind of impressed; it can't scream like that. It doesn't have the lung capacity.
no subject
So she does what you have to do in this situation: she picks a direction and starts walking.
"Well, let's see what we find, then."
no subject
Huh. It's never tried that. Though - thanks to that reduced lung capacity - it probably wouldn't get the same effect.
Then there's just a fraction of a second of hesitation, before it follows. It doesn't really want to follow anyone around in this place. Its humans aren't here. It doesn't really want to spend time with any of these unknown humans.
But...she's like a construct. She doesn't get to be a person. And now it really, really, doesn't want anything to happen to her.
It follows.
no subject
"Every now and again, a good yell makes me feel a bit better," she replies. "Or at least screams defiance at the universe for being a dick and making me step in it again."
She looks at it, raising a brow.
"What do you do when it gets to be too much?"
no subject
She doesn't know it, but it's the SecUnit. Going first is its job.
Also, it has drones. It's being careful not to use too many at the same time - no augmented human could hope to control more than two drones at once - but even with just two drones, there's no need for either of them to turn any corner without knowing what's behind it.
One drone was already flying above them, and it fishes another out of its pocket. Both drones fly forward and around the next corner.
"Clear," it says.
no subject
She doesn't see any method of control, which makes her think - even the most advanced human operators need some sort of visible control, surely? This person is much more than meets the eye.
The question becomes...in what ways.
"Well, long time since somebody didn't let me tank the danger," she replies. "Reminds me of one of my colleagues. Very willing to go first, especially if it meant he might get to kill Nazis. He was a robot, as it happens."
She's fishing for a level of technology - could be a cyborg of some kind, or some other strange sort of augmentation...but her statement might help clarify its relationship to technology.
no subject
(It did take note of that bot she mentioned, though. She called it a colleague. Not a tool. Not a piece of equipment. A colleague. Like there wasn't any question of whether she considered it a person.
...It has to take a moment, to have a bit of an Emotion about that.)
"Also I'm a Security Consultant," it adds. "Going first is my job."
no subject
And since it is taking point, she can take a moment to inspect her own twin handguns before returning them to their holsters.
"Awfully hands-on for a consultant," she remarks.
no subject
And yet the Bride didn't seem at all familiar with them. That was just...weird.
Then it frowns. "Not really," it says. Security Consultants were hands on all the time, at least where it was from. It didn't know why the job title was 'consultant' specifically'; it just was. "This is pretty standard."
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