Gun Show in the Library with the Rifle | Day 4 - Morning/Day | Open

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[Scenario A: Only those who have had previous positive interactions with Zoe, please!]

A person can only spend so much time staring at books she can't read before the urge to do something that feels marginally more meaningful - and physical - takes over. Lights had said the Keeper wasn't there anymore, and Mason had confirmed he'd gone walking out in the world some time ago. The questions of where and why and for how long eat at her. The not knowing seems almost as bad as knowing might. If she is only going to have herself, limited as her memories of who she is are, for another few days, she wants to know it.

She has those she would think to call on. Ones that seem ready enough to go looking, too. She has a few ideas about where to look - the Keeper's bedroom - and how to do it, but a part of her knows that one head can hold only so many thoughts on where to stash a diary, date book, or whatever else the white creature in her dreams and nightmares uses to plan his schedule.

The library is her domain now, or as near to it as can be said. She begins to search for her allies, thoughts of a brigade scouring the Keeper's bedroom in her head. There might not be that many, but she'd take what she could get. When she happens upon one, her greeting is simple: "Goin' huntin' for things we ain't meant to have. Interested in comin'?"


[Scenario B: Anyone who would like to have Zoe prod at their possession form like the possession prodder that she is can tag into this one!]

The library is enormous and its inhabitants and transient visitors scattered. Even with a focused intent, her gaze is drawn to the myriad objects and books the Keeper has in his possession. She has yet to grow tired of her returned senses, though she's learned to curb her apparent enthusiasm since her initial exploration of the shelves in the Hearth Room. Still, a particularly interesting book, statue, or other item may pull at her to go touch, smell, experience it. Her stance from the first day remains: If it's a person and they don't like it, they're welcome to say as much.


[Scenario C: Anyone who would like to have Zoe approach them as a person can tag into this one!]

As for anyone physically there for her to see, she nods politely at them. Potential allies lurk in the most unassuming of bodies sometimes, after all. Her gaze is calculating on these ones, searching out hostility before she approaches. She has no desire to start a fight. That would be counterproductive when she's seeking extra pairs of willing eyes and hands. Her greeting is more weary for those she does not know, but it's still friendly enough: "You find anything you can read in here, I'll find a hat to eat. Reckon the Keeper's the finest linguist in the 'verse or don't get to readin' but a fraction of what he steals."

Her stance is guarded, arms crossed over her bare chest and head cocked to one side. Her polished body shines faintly in the library's lights, and the smell of gunpowder hangs heavy in the air around her.

Comments

[creased]

Her brow furrows for a moment. Then the woman's meaning clicks and her lingering hostility is replaced by curiosity.

She hadn't thought much about her own illustrations. They were simply another part of her, and not one she saw much of, having no need to reference her own contents. Sure, she was proud to have the pictures as they gave her a certain distinction over much of the library's (admittedly unknowing at the moment) other inhabitants, but she hadn't considered how their content appeared until now. Without much to compare them to, she'd been assuming they were accurate.

She opens herself up again; the book's magically falling straight to the page the metallic woman had laughed at earlier. She stares at the picture for a moment before taking the woman's hint and inspecting her humanoid form. The differences were obvious. "You seen any mermaids around?" She nods down at the drawing, "Guess they look more like us than that, huh?" It's funny, despite it calling the accuracy of one of her few knowledge sources into questions, and she has to smile. It hadn't been that useful anyway.

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The side of her mouth quirks up to mirror the book woman's expression. "Heard tell there's one livin' in the garden pond." Whispers, rumors.

She hasn't met most of the other changelings yet, having confined herself to the library while not out scouting or collecting food for her own stores. It doesn't feel safe outside her 'domain,' if one might call it that. Then again, it doesn't feel all that safe inside it, either.

She leaves that to one side for the time being as she looks on the illustrations again. "Can you read yourself, then?" she asks. It would be logical, but logic, she's coming to find, doesn't have a great deal of hold here.

[creased]

"Of course," she responds immediately. Why even ask? But then she thinks the question over, idly tracing the words on her arm, and realizes with a start that she hasn't been bothering to read the text any more than she's paid attention to the illustrations. "Or I think I can. I definitely know what I say, but I don't have to read the words to know it. I'd have to find another book in this language to really test it out."

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"What are you about?" she asks, realizing only after the words are out how odd that phrasing sounds. It's also fairly invasive after she's just been perusing the book's contents without permission. The other woman doesn't have to answer, of course. Still, it pays to be a little tactful. "If you don't mind me askin'. Some strange lookin' things in there."

[creased]

"I'm a bestiary," she answers. Now that she's certain the woman isn't trouble, it's nice to have someone take an interest. "Anything you need to know about any of the animals you've seen, I've got it in me. Coloring, behaviors, habitats, anything. I have it listed."

"Though I don't know how accurate I am," she adds with a slightly forced laugh.

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She considers this. "Got anything about tigers?" she asks. The meeting with Stripe is still in her mind and it can't hurt to know more about them if the book is offering up her contents. "Ain't so sure most of the beasts here is accurate, so you might be on the mark, even if you ain't back where you're from."

she's apparently written by wikipedia

[creased]

"Guess we can check now, if you've seen a tiger around," she replies as she turns to her tiger entry. Her eyes lose focus as she begins to recite. "The tiger is the largest cat species, reaching a total body length of up to 3.3 m and weighing up to 306 kg. Its most recognizable feature is a pattern of dark vertical stripes on reddish-orange fur with a lighter underside. It has exceptionally stout teeth, and the canines are the longest among living felids with a crown height of as much as 74.5 mm or even 90 mm. In zoos, tigers have lived for 20 to 26 years, which also seems to be their longevity in the wild. They are territorial and generally solitary but social animals, often requiring large contiguous areas of habitat that support their prey requirements."

She blinks and turns her attention back to her companion. "And then I go on for a few more pages, if there's anything particular you're wondering."

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She listens intently to the description, a little entranced by the cadence of the book woman's words. Perhaps she could have the book recite out to Lights to help him get to sleep when he's restless. It's soothing. There is one thing she didn't here in that reading that she is wondering about.

"They weak to anything particular? Imagine a bullet'd put 'em down, but that ain't always needed if you just need to slow 'em down." The possibility of the tiger man hunting her down properly has crossed her mind.

[creased]

"Got a tiger enemy, huh?" No trance-state is needed this time, although the book does have to think for a moment to determine what might count as a weakness. "Well, their stamina's not great, so you could tire them out. I don't know if the rest of it'll work, assuming the one you're talking about is only as much tiger as I am book." And that seems a reasonable assumption, given the animals she's met so far. "But they usually only attack if they can ambush someone alone. And if you can trick them into getting something sticky on their paws, they're likely to blind themselves by getting stuff stuck to their face when they try to lick it off."

She shrugs. "If all that fails, shooting them'll definitely work."

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Her gaze shifts to one side as she considers. "Not sure he's an enemy just yet," she replies. "But he ain't an ally." This woman might be, though. She's helpful, at least in so far as anyone who's a book can be, and she doesn't seem to hold much of a grudge. That or she has a fantastic poker face. Either way, that's something to respect.

"I'll keep that in mind, anyway. Ran into him lookin' for folk to help with somethin'. You been in the Keeper's bedroom yet?"

fun with pronouns...

[creased]

Reading apparently finished, the book closes herself and tucks the volume under her arm. Just because she's ok with this woman for the moment doesn't mean she'll give her the chance to grab her. "For a minute. Didn't seem like there was anything interesting in there if you weren't looking to sleep, so I didn't stick around." She considers the woman for a moment. She seems like the type who knows what's she's doing, asking for information and all. And even if she doesn't, the book is curious now. "What're you looking to do?"

We need to get Reiko a nickname stat.

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"Find out where he might've gone," the gun says, cutting to the chase. The book hasn't walked away yet. Might as well speak plainly. "Got a notion he might keep some sorta notebook or journal somewhere he can find it easy. Bedroom's as good a place as any to start searchin'. We're meetin' tomorrow morning outside his room if you want in."

[creased]

It's hard for the book to believe there's anything of importance hidden in the bedroom. But then, she'd hardly looked around and wouldn't piles of frippery be a wonderful place to hide important documents? If they turn up nothing at least she'll know about.

And there's nothing else interesting going on. She nods. "Count me in."

Shall we wrap it up?

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She offers a brief nod. "Good to have you. I'll make sure everyone knows not to touch you if you're left out again," she adds by way of further apology. "You're a mighty interestin' lookin' book. Hard for folk that don't know you're awake to keep their hands to themselves."

yep!

[creased]

The offer and (even more so) the flattery smooths away the last of the book's wariness. "Good," she responds with a pleasant smile. Then, belatedly, "Thank you."

She starts back the way she came, book tucked securely under her arm. About to turn out of the gun's sight, she spins around and shouts, "See you then!" and then she's off.