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

[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.

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"That's the one," she affirms. "Never trust a man who don't keep himself clean shaven up to the ears."

The advice rolls off her tongue without much thought. It's familiar, but she has not idea where it came from. A proverb, perhaps? She suddenly wishes their book woman had been a philosophical tome as opposed to a bestiary. Not that the proverbs of one world might match up to another.

"We got to talkin', and he means to put us all back in our places. Or as near to 'em as he can get. When did you run into him?"

"I didn't actually talk to him," he explains. "But it's kind of hard not to casually notice people when you can literally see out of your ass."

She snorts, the crude comment reminding her of someone that she thinks she might have been fond of. "You got a way with words, Lights. Reckon it's that kinda seein' might do us the most good in this. You actually wandered over that way to the bedroom?"

It might help if he's had any kind of poke around. She'd made her own sweep before searching for others to ask for help, but it had only been a cursory look around. The enormity of the place had made her feel uncomfortably small.

"Kind of," he says. "I tried sleeping there for a while, but its kind of...loud. Like...the colours." He raises his hands. "I'd call it 'eye searing' but I don't have those."

She wrinkles her nose. "Noticed that, myself. You can call it eye-searin'. It's near it enough to the truth. Keeper's color blind near as I can tell just glancin' in there." She favors an earthy palette or muted cool tones.

"Hope that won't cause you no trouble tomorrow," she continues, looking at the searchlight with some concern. "You don't got to stay too long if it does."

"Pfft, what do you take me for," he snorts, crossing his arms. "If I couldn't take that sort of heat I'd have been worthless as a sentinel wouldn't I?"

He likes to think he was good at his job, even if it wore on him. It was a burden that he'd been able to bear.

She can understand the pride in what he does, even if she thinks it's misplaced. Her own thoughts have strayed in that direction since waking more than once. The fact that she seems to be one of the few weapons in the house has given her a sense of satisfaction she's not certain she should want. But the Keeper hadn't needed much more than her, had he? She tries not to think about the warmth that idea engenders.

"Time when you didn't have a thought in your head that was your own don't count for much in your worth," she points out. "Keeper could force you at whatever suited him." Her expression softens. "But I reckon you're worth more'n that now, anyway. Got anyone else you can think of who could join in? It's a big place."

He pauses at that bit of praise. It's weird, and he's not sure how comfortable he feels accepting it. He has the equal urge to both deny it and lap it up. Caught off guard, he frowns.

"Uh...no. Not really. Place is a bit heavy on the bumbling douchefuck side."

"Noticed that, too?" The phrasing isn't anything she'd use, but she well appreciates the sentiment in his words. Watching some of the people wandering through the library has been... interesting. "Willin' to give most of 'em the benefit of the doubt," she amends. Idiots had her places on occasion. They're not her preferred ally, but she's not going to turn them away entirely.

"I'll have a look for anyone else seems less bumblin' than the rest and see you back in the library if you're plannin' on beddin' down tonight."

"I guess I probably should, if I've got all these plans and stuff now," he says. "You know, gotta be top form for gawking at things." It feels like the end of the discussion, so he raises a hand to wave her off.

"Good luck with that, then. See ya."

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

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