Welcome to the Library

[werepuppyblack]

Who: Open Post
What: Opening Post
Where: All over the library and its grounds
Warnings: [to be edited if necessary]



Today the Great Library opens its doors to all Patrons, who have come from many of the stories and books all available on the shelves.

For this first visit, Patrons will be restricted to the Library and its grounds.

Fortunate, then, that these are impressive indeed - large gardens set up for all sorts of activities, woods surrounding the area and in the Library itself? Cafes, internet access, and the best weapons in the universe: books.

Do enjoy your first visit to the Library, Patron, and always remember the rules.

The Rules of the Library
1. Patrons cannot read further ahead in their own stories than the time they have arrived from. Any attempt to do so will result in being met with blank pages.This lack of information will also occur if trying to find out spoilers online.

2. Patrons cannot tell other Patrons how their story ends. Any attempt to do so will find the Patron unable to find the words to explain it.

3. All books must be shelved correctly.

4. Do Not Harm the Books

5. Do not interfere with the nature of Narrative Causality

Comments

Enjolras ] Les Misérables

[logomachist]

[Combeferre had told him to take a break.

In absolute fairness, Courfeyrac had told him to take a break first, but it was much harder to throw off the suggestion when it came from the pair of them in chorus. In even more absolute fairness, Enjolras was only somewhat taking a break.

He's browsing past the copies of Le Rouge et le Noir, looking for something more intellectually stimulating, when he first catches sight of Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamné.

Interruptions will be met with a copy of La Comédie humaine lobbed in their direction.]

Phedre no Delaunay de Montreve | Kusheline Saga

[thatwhichyields]

[It was so beautiful, Phedre almost forgot she had been kidnapped again.

But awake, untied, and uninjured beyond last night's memories... Well. it was a much better kidnapping than any she'd had before.

She danced her fingers over the enticing spines. If one must be trapped, being trapped in research could be worse.]

What do you say, I wonder...

Remus Lupin | Harry Potter (pre-series)

[wolfymcwolf]

[1 - in the stacks]

[Unsurprisingly to anyone who knows him at all, Remus is a fan of libraries. He never thought he'd see one more impressive than Hogwarts' own, but he hardly minds being proven wrong. Although, his old school's library surely has it beat in non-fiction magical texts.

While he's getting his bearings, finding himself in the children's section oddly enough, he spots a book series whose titles all bear the same familiar name.]

What on earth? [He pulls out the first of the series, or so he judges it to be by its placement- it is also the slimmest book. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Curiosity piqued, he opens it to the first page-- it's blank. Frowning, he flips through the whole book. All blank.]

Interesting.

[2 - on the grounds]

[So, weird day. To chase away horribly existential thoughts and worries about the future, Remus has acquired a cup of tea from one of the cafes and come out to the gardens to enjoy it, claiming a bench under some shade for himself.

For now, he simply people-watches and sips out of his to-go cup. It's a lovely looking place, and there's no lack of interesting people wandering about. Still in his robes, Remus may well be one of them, though the worn jumper and trousers he has on under are decidedly muggle and ordinary-looking, at least by his world and time's standards.]

[wellenough]

[It's true, of course. It's even something Henry sees now and then when they come in contact with someone of the proper upper echelon.

It's still impossible not to let out a snort.]

Can you imagine having so much that you'd pay someone for that?

[importuned]

In faith, are you not at work? [Her shoulders lift slightly as she twists back toward the lady slippers, nodding in their direction.] You've learned at least a single thing while standing here. That takes some effort.

[Especially if Laertes was to believed while fussing over his studies.]

Re: Violet Baudelaire l ASOUE

[tow_headed_fiend]

[A slightly flat, cold tenor voice speaks just outside the door

An island might be a quiet place to work, one would suppose. And if you're on the run, wouldn't its very nature make it difficult for your pursuers to find you?

[A short, blonde man peering over gold-rimmed spectacles looks around the door at her, a bit quizzically, but not unfriendly.]

[ivegotmypride]

[In all honesty, bringing a dog into a bookstore was a bad idea. But Bullseye was well trained, and an incredibly good boy. Bill would hate it if Nancy left him out alone in the street to get hurt. Besides, it wasn't often she got to spend time on her own with the dog and she wanted him at her side.

If someone had a problem with it, they could talk to her about it. She wasn't expecting much trouble.

But trouble had a way of finding the young woman, as the dog attemped to jump up on a stranger minding his own business. Nancy pulls back hard on his leash, and scolds him with a harsh] Bullseye! down!

[The dog obeys, whining just slightly.] Sorry about that, sir- he's a good dog. Doesn't mean no harm.

The Biologist | Annihilation/The Southern Reach

[theghostbird]

[The Stacks]

There's a number of books spread out, taking up nearly a whole table. It's mostly zoological textbooks, both mundane and fantastical, modern and Ye Olde Beestiary types. And then there's the whole quarter of the table devoted to one particular author: Lovecraft.

The Biologist hovers over them, flipping a page here, a page there. She can't even decide where to start. It's like being a grad student all over again.

[The Grounds]

The Biologist can be found outside in the gardens. It's the heat of the day, bright out. Blocky hedges have riots of flowers. That means pollinators: bees, butterflies, hummingbirds. In her system, The Brightness stirs, altering her scent, making her smell non-threatening to them. She wants to study them, to see if they're any different from bees, butterflies and hummingbirds back home...Or in Area X.

So if you're out there, or just watching through a window, you'll see a tall woman in a quasi-military jumpsuit walking through a cloud of butterflies or bees, letting one alight on her hand is she studies it.

[knowntohisfriends]

[There's a shake of the head]

Must be a grand life, right?

[His tone is very clear: he doesn't think that. He'd rather have the freedom having nothing allows]

[theprincesjester]

Acquiring knowledge is surely just a part of life, my lady [He has considered the manner somewhat] Effort it may take but can it be called worked when we do it in many small ways every day?

2

[importuned]

[The robes are, frankly, almost comfortingly familiar. Then again, perhaps it's just the plethora of unfamiliar garb that makes anything half-close to what she knows feel something like home.

More than that, someone sitting with the air of an existential crisis about him is actually thoroughly familiar. That, much more than the robes, is what has Ophelia flitting closer to this particular bench.]

All well, my lord?

[logomachist]

[Enjolras would hardly have thought himself an enticing target for canine attention. There's nothing particularly fun or thrilling, after all, about a person without food standing in deep concentration over a book.

Then again, dogs do have an uncanny ability to pick out dog-people in a crowd. Maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise to abruptly have white paws and violent attention visited upon him.

Mostly, of course, it's startling. The slim Hugo volume is nearly dropped, thumb just barely catching his place as Enjolras takes a half-step back. There's no need to fall into an actual fighting stance for a slight creature like this or an overactive canine. Better, really, to instead slowly move to take a knee, where the dog wouldn't be so inclined to jump at him again.]

Dogs so rarely do.

[wellenough]

Grand as life in The Castle of Otranto, I'd wager.

[Being in a library inspires literary reference, clearly. Henry doesn't have a terribly deep bench to pull from, but the effort has to count for something.]

[importuned]

[For all the world around them is clung to by the air of the unfamiliar, there's the faintest prickle of home in this conversation. Not home just as it is, perhaps, but certainly home as Ophelia had always best liked it.

What's more familiar than prodding at the edges of a mind more worldly than her own?]

Every stitch in the edge of a handkerchief is but small, and I cannot imagine sewing to be anything but work.

[knowntohisfriends]

[The Dodger, on the other hand, has really no literary references. He's not a good reader and he may know plots of some penny dreadfuls but beyond that... Granted, he's never been in a position of conversation that would use such references. It's actually a bit of a new experience, even if it does nothing to the confusion clear on his expression]

The what?

[theprincesjester]

But is the gaining of knowledge requiring as much in the way of effort as the act of sewing? It is a physical action, learning is more... leisurely.

[thatwhichyields]

[Curiosity had gotten Phedre into far too many situations for her to not know the danger of it. But how was one to know their situation without any investigation?

She'd landed in the middle of shelves - comforting - but with no individuals. Having now found an individual, she was at a bit of a loss.

Jailer, or fellow captive?]

Good... morning, my lord. [Morning, probably morning? Day, at least, with the light trailing through the oddly-adorned windows.]

[theprincesjester]

[Benedick loos over at the young lady who had addressed him. She is not someone he knows but he's not entirely rude. Most of the time]

Good day, my lady.

[wolfymcwolf]

[Remus is a bit startled by the title, to be honest, but he takes it in stride. He nods, smiling politely.] I'm just fine, thank you. How are you?

[He gestures to the empty portion of the bench next to him. Company would be a welcome distraction.] Would you care to sit?

[wellenough]

Some people, of course, could hardly pick any president of the United States out of a crowd of two--particularly any so far removed from the turn of the 19th century. Those people are even less aware of young lawyers from the American midwest.

That makes those people no less concerned at the idea of others not eating.

And that, really, is what prompts Wellard toward the edge of standing close to the man, with the soft fretful air of a person not used to speaking to his elders unless spoken to--and almost as much with the air of someone used to nonetheless reminding his elders that they haven't eaten since yesterday.

"--all right, sir?"

[wellenough]

Otranto. [One shoulder lifts thoughtlessly. It hadn't been such a wildly popular book among his peers--and, to be quite frank, more than half of his peers had no particular talent for reading at all.] Story about a prince who winds up losing everything because he's so hellbent on keeping all his wealth. People die left and right over it.

[As people always did in gothic novels, of course.]

[knowntohisfriends]

Sorry mate, don't reckon I've heard of that one. Which paper's it printed in?

[Most of the stories spread around the den came from the cheap serials printed in the papers after all. Charlie reckoned the Mail had the best ones.]

[ivegotmypride]

[Nancy half expects the man to scold her and the dog besides. But instead he takes a knee, and Nancy lets the leash go a bit more slack.]

He's got sharp teeth mind you, [All dogs did, and Bill liked to use Bullseye to threaten, but the boy was a sweet one.] HIs name's Bullseye. You can pet him, if you like.

[importuned]

That depends entirely on the learner, I should wager.

[It isn't entirely polite to laugh--but then, Hamlet and Laertes aren't here to be offended, and her father isn't here to tell her to be more ladylike. The noise of the giggle is still a small thing.]

Some men absolutely labour over every single word.

[importuned]

As well as can be expected, thank you.

[Not as well as some of the others, but that was hardly such a surprise. It didn't matter, in the end, if a person took a few extra steps to catch up, so long as they made it.

Her lips do press together lightly as she gathers her skirts to sit lightly, smoothing the fabric down again with exaggerated care.] Better than I suppose I ought to be. Is-- that terrible?