subtleserenity (
subtleserenity) wrote in
thechanged2013-09-02 05:44 pm
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Entry tags:
Gun Show in the Library with the Rifle | Day 4 - Morning/Day | Open
[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.
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.
no subject
"Right. There is not too much to do here other than exploring, combing through these bookcases, and speaking to one another." She's tried all three, with more success in some areas than others. "To answer your question, my results here have been limited today. I've been searching all morning for a book I can read, but there is nothing so far...just endless pages of mysterious tongues. Yesterday was much better, though." Her eyes shine with excitement, and she speaks in a hushed tone: "I remembered more."
no subject
The mention of the memory does capture her attention. "And that sounds a like fine thing to find yesterday. What did you remember?"
no subject
"I remembered a poisonous forest filled with giant insects. Breathing in its miasma kills anything except those insects, but the forest is not evil. It is purifying the earth. I do not know why, or how an ecosystem with a purpose could exist, but that is the truth of it. In the center of the forest, after the process of purification, there is the pure land I remembered when all of this started." She looks down at the book in her hands. "The pure land is why I have been exploring so much. I thought I could find it here, perhaps in the gardens, but with this memory...it cannot be in this house, as large as it is."
no subject
"Sounds like a land I could live in," she says in reply to the description of Angel's memory. The world she remembers is much less pleasant, though it's the one she feels bound to return to. "But it's strange. That don't sound like my world. Not a part I remember." She shakes her head. "How did it happen? You rememberin', I mean? It just come up on you?"
no subject
"No, not quite...Strangely enough, I found myself in another wing of the library – an eighth wing. There, I met a spider named Frederick, and the keeper of the wing, a much larger, partly-human spider named Nancy. I made a deal with her: if I would write out my story and let her finish it, she would help me remember more about the pure land. She was a very kind host." Though it was only yesterday, she looks back on the two of them with great fondness. She doesn't think she's ever, in her four days, met spiders as nice.
"What do you mean, though?" she asks, confusion etched in her face. "What do you remember about the world?"
no subject
"And we ain't all from the same worlds. Don't seem like it, anyway. First time we woke, I ran into Lights. He's the boy that glows all over. He's got horn and said that was normal, but that weren't anything that sounded like a person where I'm from. There was a battle from what I can remember. Someone shootin' down on us holed up in a valley with more dead bodies than livin' ones scattered around."
no subject
She starts in surprise at Brimstone's assertion. "Different worlds?" she asks. How could that be? Though, to be fair, it's not like there are any other explanations for what Brimstone said. "I suppose I don't remember any people with horns, either. Still, where does that mean we are right now? An entirely different world than where our homes are?"
"About what you remember, I'm sorry..." she says, looking down. "That must not be a pleasant memory to hold. I hope you are able to find a happier one soon, through some method or another."
no subject
"Not sure where all that leaves us, though." Her arms cross over her chest as she thinks about it. "Might could still be somewhere near one of the places we're from, but there's no tellin' without gettin' outside. And that ain't somethin' we'll be able to do easy. You were patrollin' outside the house, weren't you? Remember seein' anything on the horizon that stuck out? A landmark, maybe?"
no subject
"I remember the house," she says, trying to recall what she saw during her patrols. "It was an enormous tower, partially encircled by a large crescent lake. There was a clearing, too, I believe, surrounded by dark trees. Nothing else comes to mind, but perhaps one of the others who patrolled the outside would remember more."
Shall we wrap it up?
"We can look into it after the bedroom," she says. "Might find somethin' to help with that. If you find anyone along the way you want to bring, you're more'n welcome to."
sure thing!
Turning back to Brimstone, she says, "Forgive me for keeping you for so long; I'm sure you have many things to do. I'll cut my morning walk short to meet you all in the bedroom as soon as I can. Thank you for inviting me to this, and I hope we are met with success."
no subject