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(Setting)The Athenaeum De Ilkhanna
| >not even inside and yet the atmosphere is sobering and peaceful, only the beating of your heart and the rustling of leaves across the pavement to keep you company from the cold yet homey wind
>Two large doors stand in wait, lacquered and shining amidst the gray air, welcoming one forward into the grand archives of knowledge and fantasies beyond their brown frames
>the words "Եհҽ ɑԵհҽղɑҽմʍ ժҽ íӀƘհɑղղɑ" engraved unto the wood to be laid bare
| >not even inside and yet the atmosphere is sobering and peaceful, only the beating of your heart and the rustling of leaves across the pavement to keep you company from the cold yet homey wind
>Two large doors stand in wait, lacquered and shining amidst the gray air, welcoming one forward into the grand archives of knowledge and fantasies beyond their brown frames
>the words "Եհҽ ɑԵհҽղɑҽմʍ ժҽ íӀƘհɑղղɑ" engraved unto the wood to be laid bare
| > Donning a tired and dull shirt, a man rushes inside. A little weary, not a single flick of his appearance would show any gravitas. He is casual, unbecoming for the place.
> His act is more so than formal at times; from his walk to his straight posture.
"I didn't know there is a library here."
> He mutters to himself, if not anyone else. He checks the interior, gifting it the same weary smile he wore for someplace else.
| >>620624
>you brush your fingers over the silver etching of the towering mahogany doors expecting some resistance, they must no more the 20 feet tall and 7 inches thick. Sturdy enough to block a siege with their titanic girth
>yet upon your will they easily part, as if a mother welcoming their beloved child into their embrace
>you peer inside, fingers brushing past the silver lettering one last time, treading inside the air is dry and stagnant yet homely and welcoming
| >>620624
>you brush your fingers over the silver etching of the towering mahogany doors expecting some resistance, they must no more the 20 feet tall and 7 inches thick. Sturdy enough to block a siege with their titanic girth
>yet upon your will they easily part, as if a mother welcoming their beloved child into their embrace
>you peer inside, fingers brushing past the silver lettering one last time, treading inside the air is dry and stagnant yet homely and welcoming
|
| >the entrance is laid bare, empty and silent save for the silent thrum of the ventilation system and the echo of your footsteps upon the shining tilework flooring
>a magnificent pattern etched into it, enrapturing one easily should it be their first time, the sight of a delicate and abstract floral visage, splayed unto the ground like the works of a troubled artist, perhaps even picasso themselves
>all overlooked by the attendant resting upon their counter chair
| > The man's short and tidy black hair barely moves from the opening of the grand doors. It's not easy for him to put to words the height of those doors, having a stature where everything and everyone is tall, perspective barely plays a role in his part. Yet—
"… Hello?"
> His words echo inside the building. It wasn't loud, neither was it of any notable intonation. Only a question thrown at no one.
| >>620634
>"hello?" Your words silently echo against the thrum of the vents into the grand halls of literature beyond
"Yes?"
>the attendant peers up from their work, although the distance is far enough to obstruct details they call out to you all the same, their summons ringing across the stone grotto just as yours
>getting a better look at it now, everything in this place is a monochromatic color, gray, white and the lighter shades of black dominate your sight
| >yet not once can one say it is at all dreadful or dreary, more akin to a quiet place where one can collect their thoughts and find peace, a moments respite be it only for a kindred moment
>yet for some, that is all they really need...no?
>breathing in to recollect yourself, it might be well to respond to the intrepid attended, they await your being
| > The man slowly follows to the source of the voice. His footsteps were an apparent indication of this. He gazes around, spinning his head to see every detailed inch of the decor.
> 'Splendid', that is what his eyes tell observers.
"Hi…"
> He repeats his introduction, with an even quieter voice now that he is near the attendant — the one who responds to him.
"Are you… No, do you—"
> None of his words came right. Stuttering, as he is collecting a thought.
| >>620718
>you finally get a good glimpse of the person in question
>by must standards a average looking boy, pale white skin akin and even paler shite hair, as clear as a blank canvas, ready to be decorated into whatever the artist desires
"Breathe in deep and collect yourself.
I shall await"
>he says, echoing into the halls that slumber mere feet away and into the abyss they so hold
>ever paitent he awaits for you whenever you find yourself
| >>620733
"I'm already here. No use waiting."
> He softly chuckles, playing off the words said by the stranger. He turns to spot where the books are — everywhere here, he can see a good source of knowledge and yet he can't lay his eyes on one.
"—Le Morte d'Arthur."
> He says a name. Or at least, it may be.
"Do you happen to know if this place has that? Not the translated version, no. The original copy of it."
| >>620755
"Le Morte d'Arthur by Thomas Mallory?
Enter the Athenaeum proper and turn right.
Left side of the historical fictional, right next to the romanticized history section, twelfth level of the sixth bookcase"
>unflinchingly and immediately they answered, not even pretending to peer into any records or archives to extract the location, almost unnerving how perfectly the service was given
"Should you have any more desires please summon another attendant or librarian"
| >>620760
"SIR Thomas Mallory."
> The stern 'SIR' by the start could be played as a joke from the man, or a serious concern for the detail of the name — either way, he nods as a thank you.
"Does the library happen to also possess Caxton's version of the same piece? No… rather, ignore him. Does it have Charlotte's? She's the lesser known translator of the work."
| >>620764
"We should contain every interpretation and variation catalogued in history and or available sir"
>as they speak, you notice that the echo seems to fade away yet the conditions are perfect for ones voice to be cast past the stone columns rustic bookshelves
"Please make your way to the desired literary work if you wish to understand"
>he extends his hand to the Athenaeum proper, as you look it is as if its beckoning you to become trapped and enraptured in the silent maze
| >>620770
"I'll take your words, pal. I've been searching for Charlotte's."
> The man drags himself to the directed place. His movement is slow, but not sluggish — more so in the plausibility of him making every note of the place.
"How did I not know this…"
> He mutters.
| >>620775
>as you step away from the entrance you one again find yourself in the solace of your lonesome as you gaze around the chiseled light gray basalt walls and marble pillars. To your right lies a thick stone wall, the outside world, ever changing lies beyond, to your left lies a sea of halls upon halls of bookshelfs crammed to their limits with books of all sorts, their hard covers pristine yet collecting dust and mourning for human hands amidst the melancholic atmosphere
| >like an unchanging crest on a cloudy hill, picturesque and stagnant you only now notice between moving section past section that you cannot see the end
>almost on cue to break your focus from the echoing of footsteps and awe upon the gathering of Alexandria's legacy you gaze upwards to see a spiral maze of overhanging terraces above you, standing no less then 4 floors high and ending in a glass ceiling stained grey
>"just how big is this place..?"
>one cannot help but wonder
| > Ignoring his instincts to persevere and explore through the catalogue of nearly limitless knowledge, the man keeps a steady gait towards the book he was searching for.
"Right—"
> He quietly murmurs, something hard to do now that there is very little disturbance to hold his voice back.
"If only she's here."
> He speaks to himself as his hand grazes past many books, skipping past them as though he leaped forward a millennia away.
| >>620821
>after walking a fair length you find the section of your pursuits. Looking behind the way you came, the entrance is gone, as if vanished into a hazy summer nights mist after the rain
>now you truly are alone with your thoughts...
>on the bright side there is a little directory hanging on the bookshelves, so at least you are not lost! The places layout is rather straightforward, just really >>>***really*** big
>and beyond this anchor of guidance, the book awaits
| >>620618
"I was not expecting a library to be here..."
>A young man in a blue trenchcoat mumbles to himself as he approaches the establishment. He carefully makes his way inside as he soaks in the interior.
| >>620848
>just like for those before you Two large doors stand in wait, lacquered and shining amidst the gray air, welcoming one forward into the grand archives of knowledge and fantasies beyond their brown frames
>the words "Եհҽ ɑԵհҽղɑҽմʍ ժҽ íӀƘհɑղղɑ" engraved unto the wood to be laid bare shining a melancholic silver against the dreamy clouded sky
>the winds are cold and the streets are empty, perhaps the grand archives before you shall be less lonely
| >>620857
>you brush your fingers over the silver etching of the towering mahogany doors expecting some resistance, they must no more the 20 feet tall and 7 inches thick. Sturdy enough to block a siege with their titanic girth
>yet upon your will they easily part, as if a mother welcoming their beloved child into their embrace
>you peer inside, fingers brushing past the silver lettering one last time, treading inside the air is dry and stagnant yet homely and welcoming
| >the entrance is laid bare, empty and silent save for the silent thrum of the ventilation system and the echo of your footsteps upon the shining tilework flooring
>a magnificent pattern etched into it, enrapturing one easily should it be their first time, the sight of a delicate and abstract floral visage, splayed unto the ground like the works of a troubled artist, perhaps even picasso themselves
>all overlooked by the attendant resting upon their counter chair
| >>620860
>The man slowly makes his way up to the counter, figuring it's easier to ask the attendant for what hes looking for
"Hello, excuse me. I was wondering where you may keep anything books detailing info about the city. Perhaps corporate related?
| >>620865
"Not really sir. This is a library, perhaps you will have better luck at city hall?"
>getting a better look at it now, everything in this place is a monochromatic color, gray, white and the lighter shades of black dominate your sight
>yet not once can one say it is at all dreadful or dreary, more akin to a quiet place where one can collect their thoughts and find peace, a moments respite be it only for a kindred moment
>yet for some, that is all they really need...no?
| >>620866
"*sigh* I was afraid you would say that..."
>He sighs, clearly displeased with the answer
"W-Well perhaps do you have educational books at least? Maybe science manuals or something?"
| >>620867
"Enter the Athenaeum proper and go past right. Science manuals are in the science and learning section.
If you desire anything special please do say"
>although his response didn't quite seem rehearsed it felt...blank
>like a pale white thread awaiting to be woven and spun into a lovely dress
>the thought perhaps crosses your mind as to distract from the echoing spawned from your exchanging of words into the vast nothingness beyond the entrance
| >>620880
"A mere registration.
No fees or anything, just a name and contact information.
From there you check out a book for However long you specify and we tell you when time is up"
>he brings out the requisite papers should you decide to follow through said act
"If you decide you like the book then we just need a small fee for the paper necessary to reprint or reproduce the work in question"
>following that is the placement of a dull gray pen so gray you cannot see the gray ink
| >>620903
>That is... way beyond generous, he thinks to himself.
"I'll look through your books and decides then, thank you."
>He grins and nods, before heading off to the right as instructed previously.
| >>620904
>as you step away from the entrance you one again find yourself in the solace of your lonesome as you gaze around the chiseled light gray basalt walls and marble pillars. To your right lies a thick stone wall, the outside world, ever changing lies beyond, to your left lies a sea of halls upon halls of bookshelfs crammed to their limits with books of all sorts, their hard covers pristine yet collecting dust and mourning for human hands amidst the melancholic atmosphere
| >almost on cue to break your focus from the echoing of footsteps and awe upon the gathering of Alexandria's legacy you gaze upwards to see a spiral maze of overhanging terraces above you, standing no less then 4 floors high and ending in a glass ceiling stained grey
>"just how big is this place..?"
>one cannot help but wonder, passing through section after section
>fantasy and its derivatives, then sci fi and its kin, so on an so fourths
>the walls are filled with aging papers
| >>620908
"Why is a place this huge so empty..."
>The man mumbles, almost perturbed at the silence even for a library. He decides to push it out of his mind for now as he makes his was to where the manuals are.
| >>620909
>silence...thats it...just pure silence, deafening in its non existent cries. The only respite to it being the crisp echoing of your footsteps against the artisanal tile floor and the slow trum of the ventilation system
>a shiver might make its way down your spine perhaps due to the cold air or maybe something more, as you think about it. Aside from the attendant you have had no human contact since entering the block...
| >as almost to free you from such harrowing thoughts you arrive. Past the sci fi, past the historic section and past such even more so
>the cases stand tall, perhaps even taller then the grand entrance doors that welcomed you in...21..? nay mayhaps even 25 feet tall, standing vigil for the treasure trove of knowledge they contain. A convenient rustic looking ladder rest nearby, as with all the other shelves to aid against any issues these giants may pose
>my how quaint
| >>620914
>gazing past the hall of shelving got a moment you can confirm that just as the rest, you cannot see the other end...it just fades into a monochrome abyss..akin to a spring morning mist rising from the earth and obscuring sight
>looking at the technical side of things that does explain how they can fit so much fields of study in a single section
>after a peaceful few moments looking you find the shelf dedicated to anatomy, next to biology and medical study
| >more up to date and modern works and guides fill most of the shelves within normal reach, most likely arranged according to importance of access
>needless to say, a anatomy book from the 18 hundreds would not be the best choice to help in any medical emergencies thus those are stashed further up where the ladder is required
>the recent works are much more plentiful, you can easily imagine a surgeon going through one of these to jog their memory or a med student for their exams
| >>620916
>After skimming through a few, he places one hes happy with on the ground. Next he looks over to the botany section and starts looking for a manual on plants.
| >>620925
>same as the last it is organized in most important to access, the very bottom being how to prevent crop failure and things similar to agriculture and how to keep it flourishing
>plant manuals are a bit higher, no need to tip toe thankfully
>and quite the menagerie it is, one can easily burn a month ish going through all of it and come out a fully qualified gardener!
>ahhh the wonder of a library
| >>620930
>He skims through a few, decided to get one focusing on plant structure and another on plant care. He also gets a smaller one detailing different plant species, adding the three to the now growing pile on the floor next to him.
"What else would be useful hmm
..."
>The man muses to himself
"I don't it would be nearby but it's worth a shot."
>He picks up the piles and starts looking around for the technology section.
| >>620829
"Death of Arthur… Death of…"
> The earlier visitor have started digging past the few shelves. He isn't the smartest, apparently, preferring the brute force method of finding the book. This, would have been okay if he didn't accidentally drop a few heavy books on the way — creating a 'thud!' more than enough time to cause disturbance.
"…Goddammit."
> There, he quietly curses at his own ineptitude.
| >>620946
>a loud thud is heard a few sections to the left, a nice reminder that there are still in fact other people here
>tiss a shame that your target is to the right
>treading the stone path once again you head for the technology section. A gray light shining down from the skylight above makes everything feel so...hollow..
>were it not for the reassurance from the thud prior, one could easily become incredibly unnerved by this place..
| >>620979
>when you look you find out exactly what the attendant meant
>you find what must be every single rendition and interpretation, every recording and rewriting of what you seek
>the shelves are titanic, dare say 25 feet tall. a quaint rustic ladder lying in wait nearby should one ever need its aid and rightly so given the colossi its meant to be used upon
>curiously on the direct opposite shelf, facing them is the various works dedicated to charlemagne and his paladins
| >who ever arranged all this must have some sort of sense of humor
>"round table rivals" the thought might pop
| >>621070
> The man immediately notices the tales of Charlemagne close to Arthur's. He snickers, laughing off the idea.
"Auld lang syne."
> He began climbing some of the ladders, trying to parse an entire column, one by one. He has grabbed a few books by his right hand on his way up, too.
| >>621100
>the ladder is markedly stable and spacious enough to be comfortable to use compared to other ladders. One can safely use this without concern of falling or any other worries such as
>lets see...Adam Ardrey, Finding Merlin..no..bryhers ruan...oh nice find! But still not it...ah here we Go!
>your hands at last land upon it!
>Le Morte d'Arthur by Sir Thomas Mallory. Good. Now one just needs to check it out or find the reading area
>...
>...wherever it is
| >A young cat boomer with pink hair and their arm in a sling walks in
>Their gender isnt immediately discernible and theyre rather short
"So what's this place all about? is it just a library?"
| >>621168
>as with those before you Two large doors stand in wait, lacquered and shining amidst the gray air, welcoming one forward into the grand archives of knowledge and fantasies beyond their brown frames
>the words "Եհҽ ɑԵհҽղɑҽմʍ ժҽ íӀƘհɑղղɑ" engraved unto the wood to be laid bare in a silver glow
>its oddly serene, to be simply alone with your thoughts...not a soul is nearly
>just you
>far away the hustle and bustle of the city can still be heard, far far away
| >>621169
>The cat boomer looks up to the words on the door
"Hmm."
>They walk up to the door and try to push it open
| >>621171
>you brush your fingers over the silver etching of the towering mahogany doors expecting some resistance, they must no more the 20 feet tall and 7 inches thick. Sturdy enough to block a siege with their titanic girth
>yet upon your will they easily part, as if a mother welcoming their beloved child into their embrace
>you peer inside, fingers brushing past the silver lettering one last time, treading inside the air is dry and stagnant yet homely and welcoming
| >the entrance is laid bare, empty and silent save for the silent thrum of the ventilation system and the echo of your footsteps upon the shining tilework flooring
>a magnificent pattern etched into it, enrapturing one easily should it be their first time, the sight of a delicate and abstract floral visage, splayed unto the ground like the works of a troubled artist, perhaps even picasso themselves
>all overlooked by the attendant resting upon their counter chair
| >>621174
>The cat boomer walks up to the attendant, taking everything in
"I was walking by outside and saw this place. It seemed interesting so i came in. But what is this place exactly?"
| >>621184
>your words echo brilliantly across the stone and tile moving to your left. As you turn your head to see where your voice was carried you see what is a maze of colossal bookshelves, stretching so far you cannot see the end of the hall...it all just...fades..
"Tiss is a library"
>by most standards the attendant a average looking boy, pale white skin akin and even paler shite hair, as clear as a blank canvas, ready to be decorated into whatever the artist desires
| >>621110
> The man steps down from the ladders, having found three books in particular — aside from those he had once thought of reading. From the cover, all of them are of the "Death of Arthur" visage.
> With four books at hand, two heavy, he wobbles a bit. His body was sturdy enough to hold three, but with four he topples behind to make another thud.
"God. Now I wish I'm a character in a novel."
> He murmurs while rubbing his back, with the books on the floor.
| >>621069
"Well good to know other people really do go here..."
>The trenchcoated man mumbles as he looks through the technology section, looking for another two manuals. One on AI development, and another on ICE security.
| >>621194
>he readjusts his attire
"Athenaeum De Ilkhanna"
>and the explanation is ended just like that.
>rather disappoint most likely, but it feels as if...a machine...giving out a well practiced answer...just stated and done
>you can tell he means no ill will However...more as if he prefers to keep talking to a minimum unless necessary, in credence to the atmosphere. Slow and blissfully melancholic. Perfect to gather ones thoughts
| >>621195
>nearby just as conveniently there is a little book cart, most likely used by the librarians or whoever is in charge of organizing all these books
>nobody should mind if you use it.
>the ornate lacquered wood handle eagerly awaits use by human hands, to be put to its purpose and become whole. Be it..for a mere few moments
>should you inspect the map again you should find the reading area to be left of the entrance
| >>621196
>same as last, few sections nearby, order of importance such and so fourth.
>the books are unremarkable compared to the rest, However the sheer amount of books available dwarf that of the other two sections combined!
>rightly so given how so often the computer and technology industry keeps getting updated day after day after day in astounding quick succession
>damm.. it would suck if those shelves were weak
>you breathe a breath of relief and thanks to these wood giants
| >>621208
>After some searching he grabs two books from the shelves and lifts up the heavy pile.
"Is this how a college freshman feels I wonder..."
>He talks to himself again as he makes his way to the front.
| >>621215
>assuming you were not able to carry them there is a few convenient book carts scattered around
>you make your way back to the entrance. Yet you notice that despite having a cart (Probably), the melody of your movement gains no new members, just the footsteps and the ventilation
>amazingly despite many of its kin in the outside world the cart is dead silent! Nevermind rickety wheels, the thing makes no noise at all!
| >the entrance is as you found it, serene and peaceful. The attendant at the ready to serve any whim
| >>621219
"Hello, how much would it cost to get a copy of each of these?"
>He places the large pile on the desk
| >>621231
"Hmmm lets see...we only charge for the paper so...hmmm"
>he checks the computer for a short second
"A copy yes? Just a moment"
>he types some things in and checks pricing
"We can make you a copy of each book for 20 nuyen or 2000 zenny per copy"
>seems fair enough
"Oh qand donations would most Definitely be appreciated"
>he gestures to place the books on the counter
| >>621233
>He loads a credstick with 1000 nuyen and hands it over.
"That should cover everything and then some."
| >>621236
"Thank you for your generous donation"
>he smiles
"Ill be right back with your copies, just a moment"
>he gestures for you to sit on a nearby chair. Wait...there was a chair there?!?
>geeze everything is so monochrome its hard to tell anything apart..
>in that same span of time he dissapears with the selected books when you weren't looking
>a good 15 minutes pass by when he returns with a large bag containing all your copies
"Here you are"
| >>621238
"Thank you very much."
>He takes the bags with both hands.
"Do you want me to put the originals back?"
| >>621240
"I have already returned them"
>he seems to keep quiet unless necessary, given his quick responses
| >>621241
"Oh I see. Well thank you for your time."
>The trenchcoated man nods and makes his way to the exit, bag of books in tow.
| >>621207
> Finding himself unable to resist the temptation of carrying more books, he loads the cart to the limits of its capacity — or his carrying capacity. He moved over six books of the same title, finding the map to be of use once he decides his time will be worth the use.
> He whistles gently as he trots his way to the reading area, pushing the cart along with him.
| >>621267
>the whistling echos stronger then most, so much so it loops back around to you albeit weakly
>its a interesting melody, the echoing of your footsteps and whistling. Something to keep the deafening silence at bay on the trip back.
>you pass by a particular bright area, perhaps unintentionally magnified by the stained glass up above, forcing you to squint your eyes while passing through all and all everything is pretty peaceful, However boring some may find it
| >at least until you open your eyes again to see a blond girl with one of those generic pretty faces lazy artists reuse over and over again so people can throw them money kneeling before you, a dutiful look on her face
"Servant saber, responding to your call master"
>you look down to your feet to see the radiant gray light shining on a strange pattern embedded into the floor, akin to something from a fantasy book
>...
>what the hell
| >>621270
> If it wasn't for the incessant walk, the man would've flinched more than enough. If he were to be interrupted in his whistling, it would've taken him more than a series of blinking.
"—… What?"
> He searches his hand, flipping each one and other, as though thoroughly trying to find something out of the ordinary.
> Quickly, he pinches himself and turns back to the cart of books behind.
"What?"
> If it's not enough, he repeated what he says.
| >>621272
>the cart awaits its temporary patron, bearing the reaped reward from your little journey
>and there seems to be nothing wrong with your hands you dont think
>yet still the maiden clad in a monochrome color still kneels before you, awaiting any commands or response at all for that matter
>all in utter silence, deafening maddening silence beckoning one to peace
>once again one must say
>what the actual hell
| >>621273
"I… didn't do the ritual."
> It took him moments to register the event transpiring in front of him. 'Master'? His eyes weren't ready to believe. Whatever ritual he mentions, it made him analyse the floor and the room again — trying to make sure he wasn't transported elsewhere.
"A-auld lang syne? Wait… damn it. No."
> He stutters and tries to back away with the cart, but he can't help himself. His curiosity caught his entire mind.
| >>621274
"Following order"
>and with another flash of that damn gray light you are forced to close your eyes
>when freed once again you find the girl has vanished
>no sounds were heard no proof whatsoever left, just came and gone ,slipped into the seething sun as if a being that should exist but never existed in the first place
>yet the light still shines on you and the whatever pattern is still right beneath you
>wat
| >>621275
> The man rubbed his eyes. More than twice. He reaches for the pocket of his trousers, digging deep into them, with one of his hand taking out a phone.
> He presses a few digital buttons then a dialing tone is heard from his phone. Not long after, a tired voice connects to him.
"Did you… did you do something?"
> He nods to the recipient.
"You DIDN'T. Right? No… no more of that? Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Yeah. Just checking in."
> Then closes the call with sigh following.
| > The patterns beneath takes him to a memory. At least one that vividly saturates his own vision. Seeing that, he crouches down. Momentarily ignoring the books, he tries to study the pattern.
"There's no such thing as a summoning circle in Glitch City. There's no such thing as a leyline here. There's no—"
> He bit his lip before he call end his list of 'can't be' — yet, despite all that, his belief is not shaken.
| >>621277
"Wah!"
>a audible cry can be heard in the distance, sharing the same voice as the woman from earlier
| >>621281
> The voice is enough for the man to ignore his books momentarily. He tries to make a run for it, catching and tracking the voice — while keeping quiet of his feet, something impossible to do for him.
"Why am I—"
> He ignores his running thought and seeks to find the voice.
| >>621366
"Gah! Get out of the way before he sees me!"
>its the girl you "summoned" earlier and a boy most likely another librarian given the way he is dressed
>both are on the floor, as if they bumped eachother onto their butts by accident
"What do you mean?!?">the boy says while standing up shaking down his butt, complaining all the while about how it stings
"Uhhh ahehe.."
"Please dont tell me you did *that* again..."
>looking at it now, she looks like a librarian too
| >>621424
"I knew I wasn't hallucinating."
> The man arrived in time to see the disillusion in front of him. Indeed, he was prepared to see no oath sign being made — engraved or so, in his hand.
"Brave of you to shine like that."
> He puts his hand on his face, sending them to rub his temples. He sighs, then tries to see if he can get any explanation from the two.
"—So, what did you think that'll accomplish? Making a light before like one last stardust is impressive though."
| >>621471
"Is that him?"
>the girl nods yes to the question
"Gah bow your head you numbskull!"
>the boy forces her down to bow her head sorry
"Im so sorry about her. She likes to mess with visitors sometimes"
>he sighs
"Say your sorry dummy!"
"I-im sorry!"
>she seems sincere, just being a well meaning goof it seems
"What was it? The butterflies or the summoner gag?"
>judging by the look on his face, it seems this is far from the first time this happened
| >>621473
> The man draws his hand forward, then shows the back of his palm. There's nothing there.
"One that requires something here. And a circle on the floor. And some catalyst. You can guess which."
> He tries not to sound too abrasive with his words. Adjusting his intonation, all he came out as is someone that is slightly joyed at the display earlier.
"Just… don't do that again, okay? Don't want anything strange to happen to me."
| >>621475
"Ah summoner gag then huh?
Yeah the patter on the floor is really fancy. Where did you come up with that anyway?"
"Some visitors said it looked like a magic circle, Then i saw the skyline shine on them sometimes. From there the brilliance came by itself hahah!"
"I swear you are more trouble then you are worth..."
>she sticks her tongue out
"Mmmllleeeehh!"
"You almost look disappointed sir...?"
>the male librarian tilts his head, slightly curious
| >>621495
"That is English"
>once again left just at that, the only words coming after being the echoing that fades back away into the library
>its unnerving how peaceful this place is..
| >>621483
"It's nothing. Tired from work. Just got back from my shift."
> He brushes his hair with his hand, adjusting it ever so slightly. Though even now it doesn't look any different than it was before.
"Thanks for the gag. That made me refresh my memory."
> He smiles and nods to the librarians.
| >>621502
"See! I told you it was fun!"
>the girl rubs into his face
"Yeah yeah you told me you told me. Lets get back to work now."
"Oh do you think mister magician came to visit?"
>they walk off into the gray void beyond, leaving on a chipper note
>what a quaint little happenings, rather reassuring to see other human beings that *aren't* dead silent like the entrance attendant
>pfff laylines and magic circles. Guess this place is magical in its own way
| >>621510
> The man takes out his phone again. Sighing as he presses a few digits, a call connects and echoes throughout the library again.
"You've got me."
> He snickers while walking back to the reading area. What was it that he was doing again?
"Solid. Thanks for the tip. Yeah. Uh-huh. See ya."
> Once he reaches the reading area, he takes a solid look at the circle, then back at the books.
"—Those weren't even summoning circles, god."
| >>621498
"Okay so what is the definition of the first word on the door then?"
>They begin tapping their foot impatiently
| >>621528
>yeah, now that the sun is dying down those are just pretty patterns meant to help the atmosphere feel a bit more magical and whimsical
>it seems to have done its job well
>arriving at the reading area it is quite spacious
>several beautifully hand crafted long oak tables stretch across the room for whoever wishes to take the time and open a book, in a air so silent one can hear their own heartbeat, so still and content perhaps it is as if one is at rest dreaming.
| >another librarian oversees the area quietly immersing herself in some book or other.
>https://bit.ly/2vrm28c
>she seems interesting perhaps
>everything else is pretty unremarkable, the only other person there is a boy with brown hair, wearing a interesting looking headset and a grey sweater
>and the fox floating in orbit around him made entirely out of a blue gas and the white snow owl on his lap
>...
>oh come on not again
| >>621533
"It is a synonym for library"
>he says shortly and frankly.
>you notice he did not break eye contact or even blink this entire time
| >>621562
> Taking no more cue, the man pushes his cart to a vacant seat. One by one, he lugs his heavy books to the table. There, he sorts them and stacks them as is; in an order that appears random to passing strangers.
> The first book he read was the very one he tries to search for. The untranslated work of Sir Thomas Mallory; not French, but in archaic English. He keeps the French translation by his side, for some reason.
"One."
> He whispers to himself.
| >>621619
>the chair, its almost too good! The ornate handspun cushion seems to have been specially tailored to the sturdy oak chair paired with it!
>resulting in a perfect comfort, one could Probably sit there comfortably for an entire day without any back problems or pain in the rear
>as you flip the page of the book, you notice its so quiet you can hear each and every detail in the movement of the pages, from the crisp scraping of the paper to the light swish it makes in the air
| >>621563
"Okay then... Can you show me where the poetry books are?"
>The cat boomer checks their watch and nods to themself
| >>621563
"Okay then... Can you show me where the poetry books are?"
>The cat boomer checks their watch and nods to themself
| >>621624
"Two."
> He gently moves the pages away. His grace were unfound of from his earlier self. Just that, from here there emanates a different aura out of him.
> He seems to enjoy his reading. At least, what of it — he smiles and chuckles at the few pages he come across.
| >>621826
"Oh course, please enter the Athenaeum proper and turn left.
The poetry section is two sections before approach of the reading area"
>this one felt a bit more whole, yet the man was still incredibly quiet, just barely able to make an echo but more then enough to get the message across clearly
>like a moth to the flame, the seemingly unending gray halls and untold number of literature call, beckoning for a guest to welcome with open arms
| >>621828
>for the most part your reading is undisturbed and peaceful, page after page yet time never seems to run short a solitary haven of silence and thoughts almost all to yourself and no other
>yet once every so few pages you just barely catch a small blue glow on the corners of your eyes, ever escaping your complete gaze
>and the fluttering of wings, delicate and small like a falling leaf in the crisp autumn air yet as soft as a well groomed sheep's wool
| >>621855
"Th—…"
> Before making the word, his eyes were caught by the sight of the glow. He resists the tempation, however — if it wasn't for the now-vibrating phone disturbing his peace.
> Taking the phone out, he presses a single button.
"God. What do you need again?!"
> He waits for a response. Nods, then facepalms.
"No. You're not coming here. I said you're not—"
> It's apparent that he got cut off.
"That damned…"
| >>621859
>as you finish your call both the boy and the girl quickly rise up from their books and shush you for breaking the silence
"Shhhhh!"
>then just as quickly return to them
>as you look up, just barely, you see a butterfly...glowing blue under the pale gray skylight...a swarm of them.. a strange and mystical beauty to be sure
>the strange floating blue mist fox keeps them away from the boy, yet the majority of them seem to be attracted to the librarian girl
| >>621871
> The man didn't flinch and instead acknowledges his fault. His puts his phone in a long silence, drawing him closer to his book.
"Three."
> He takes a long breath. His steeled focus manages to ignore most of the ethereal appearances, almost making them look normal beside him — and he too, exerts a magical determination to be able to normalise himself in the very tick of the second.
| >>621872
>slowly but steadily without giving any reason to avoid you, the butterflies slowly but steadily make perch on you, one after another creeping ever steady the tiny little fairies little legs Tickle your shoulders
>slowly but steadily the light illuminating the paper worlds you take refuge in is gradually being dyed a calm sapphire blue
>strangely enough, its rather serene...as if being engulfed in a small lake..all to yourself
| >>621879
> Calm. That is the perfect word that demonstrates this world he has made. A small reality that encapsulates even the World itself.
"Four."
> Slowly, the light engulfing him and the little flying critters around him become one with his presence. He blends into this background, forming a painting. His eyes track every word as they go, and his hand elegantly move in about a dance slower than even his reading.
> Immersion does not fully describe this scene.
| >>621934
>given his incredibly immersed state anything strange is brushed over, if the library could speak it would be happy. Its job done well, its guests satisfied and uninterrupted
>yes truly its purpose is being fulfilled to the letter
>eventually one of the butterflies come to rest upon your finger..soft and gentle in its ways that it doesn't seem to be all that bothersome
>as you use said finger to point words and flip a page it sits there...akin to a ring in a way
| > A new arrival come down pushing the door up front. Donning a complete light suit of armour, modernised through the usage of more exotic forms of metal — namely, plasteel and alloys of mithril, apparent from the vague silver the armour displays.
> The armour wraps around them, forming all too well, like a suit with no gaps inside it. It doesn't clank nor make noise.
> The short figure walks towards the attendant.
| >>622130
>just as those prio- ignoring the magnificent pattern etched into the floor. the sight of a delicate and abstract floral visage, splayed unto the ground like the works of a troubled artist, perhaps even picasso themselves Completely overlooked
>you walk by the attendant resting upon their counter chair, it seems his attention is available to you should you desire it but he makes no gesture of it
| >A tall man enters the library, carrying some kind of leather bag as he walks in large strides
>He wears a striped white shirt complete with black slacks, a leather belt and black shoes; the very definition of fashionable and comfortable
>His face is completely covered by a mask etched with an inverted triangle design and some kind of cross in the middle, there are no holes for his eyes or mouth.
>Despite the mask, he feels oddly... Normal
| >>622157
> Upon closer inspection the figure appears to have a sword sheathed. It is hung by their side, and it doesn't show the quality of a fake replica. Instead, its hilt has been through many years of torment, judging from its botch job repairs and patches.
"I'm here to greet someone. Do you happen to see a man, of mediocre height, with black hair? I swear there'll be no harm done to the place."
| >>622206
"Perhaps its that fellow over there?"
>he points to >>622170
>and just leaves it at that
>he doesn't seem like he is trying to be rude However
>more like he wants to respect the little quiet atmosphere
| >>622271
>The masked man turns to the attendant and chuckles
"I am not the person this fellow is waiting for, I simply saw the door and got curious"
>He steps forward and extends his hand to the attendant as if he's waiting for a handshake
| >>622760
"What this man said is correct. I'm looking for another person. Will it be rude if I enter with everything I equipped?"
> The armoured figure replies. They wait for the attendant's confirmation, seeing the bulk of their equipment may interrupt the serenity of the library.
This thread is permanently archived
| >in a quiet street uptown rests a large library
>the large stonework walls and architecture encompassing the entire block it was placed upon
>the clouded afternoon sky glares down upon the rough yet chiseled limestone pillars as if ripped from a melancholic fantasy world, a subtle cold breeze carried by the wing washing over you as the thought makes its way into your mind
>behind the street lies silent and empty, no cars passing by and the melody of footsteps being only your own