Papercuts Are Inevitable | The Library | Days 8-10 [OPEN]

[wingedapostle]

[ooc: this search is going to take place over three in-game days (days 8, 9, and 10), so please state in the post subject which day you want to go for!]

Answers have come, but not enough. She's remembered two more things since she awoke: the poisonous forest surrounding the pure land, and herself preaching peace to a crowd of people. Neither memory gives answers regarding the other, which leads her to the library's fourth wing. If in her memories she cannot find answers to her questions – Who is she? Who were those people? Why is the forest purifying the world? Why that urgent plea for peace? – then perhaps she'll find them in books.

That is, if she can find any that she can read. She's been here before, more than once, but she has never found a book in a language that she could understand. The languages in the many books she's looked over have all been beautiful-looking, but that doesn't help much when she doesn't know what they say.

She picks a bookshelf at random, and slides a book out of its place. Its cover is colorful and ornate, but a look inside reminds her that she's likely not going to have much luck on this search, at least not anytime soon. She puts it back with a sigh and takes another one out. This is going to take a while.

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Day 9!

[horseish]

The library is the last place the horse-girl looks. It seemed stuffy, and enclosed, in a way she's sure she doesn't like for whatever reason. There's not nearly enough room to run.

Although the books seem interesting enough. She pulls one off the shelf, and after two tries remembers which direction to open it in.

"What language is this even supposed to be?"

She doesn't realise she spoke aloud right away. But what does it matter, she's the only one in here, right?

[wingedapostle]

The voice of a child reaches Angel's ears. It sounds like it's coming from nearby. She walks to the end of the aisle and pokes her head into the the next one. There is, in fact, a child there, holding a book. She briefly wonders how they got so close without her noticing, but she attributes it to being entrenched in her search.

"I'd be surprised if you could read it," she says, approaching the child. She pulls another book off the shelf, opens it up, and lowers it so the child can see. It's in a language she can't understand. "See? Most of these books are in strange tongues."

Day 8, evening

[creased]

The book girl is wandering her way out of the library, hunger luring her to the dining room, when she hears something in the stacks. Curious, she searches out the source of the noise.

She's surprised to come across a familiar face. Though she'd only even seen Angel inside, as they searched for the Keeper's notes, something about the wings made the book expect her to keep to the gardens. But if she is in here, it won't hurt to be friendly. "Found anything interesting?" she calls out as she approaches.

[wingedapostle]

She turns at the voice, and smiles when she sees who it is. The two of them haven't really spoken before, but she remembers her from the search in the Keeper's room. Since the girl was there, Angel can't imagine that their feelings on their situation are too different. That they're allies in this is a comfort.

"Many, many books," she says, "but none I can read." She's spent hours going through countless shelves, book after book. If she doesn't find something soon, she doesn't know what she'll do. Look through more books, probably. "Have you seen any that you can read?"

[creased]

"I can read myself, but nothing else that I've found." Not that she's been looking as methodically as the other girl. Enough have caught her attention in the time she's spent in the library, but what she's searching for another book that's moving around. Whether she can read it is irrelevant. "Anything specific you're looking for? Maybe I've seen some illustrations that will help."

[wingedapostle]

Angel thinks on the question. She knows what she seeks, but to put it in short words is another thing. "I've been looking for...anything relating to a pure land containing an open field, or a vast forest of fungi that produces a miasma. Have you seen anything like that?"

It's unlikely, but perhaps this girl has found such a book. That would certainly make her search easier. To be honest, she's not even sure if she's searching in the right section. It's hard to tell when you can't read anything.

[creased]

She shakes her head after barely a moment's thought. "I think there was something with plants down that way." She points behind her, a bit to the right. "I remember the book was tiny, that's why I opened it. But nothing like you described."

Angel's search is more interesting than she'd expected. More creative than a search for a map or information on the Keeper or Mason or their situation, and the book regrets being unable to help. "Was that something you remembered?" she asks, unusually soft.

[wingedapostle]

Her eyes light up with excitement for a moment, but then her hopes are shot down. So close, and yet so far away. "That's a shame...Do you think you might be able to show it to me anyway, in case I recognize any of the plants inside it?" Who knows, it might be a good idea.

"It was, though," she says lowly. "The pure land was the first thing I remembered, and the forest something I remembered, with help, a few days ago. Remembering the forest answered many of my questions about the pure land, and about what I need to do here. At the same time, it brought forth even more questions. That is why I search now."

[creased]

She nods at the question. It might take a bit of wandering, but she's certain she can find it again eventually.

"With help?" she asks, before dismissing the thought. "It sounds wonderful. You must want to get back to it, huh? I don't understand how the forest fits in, though." She frowns. "I guess you wouldn't remember either."

[wingedapostle]

Angel puts any books she's taken out back onto their shelves, signaling that she's ready to move whenever the other girl is. She can always come back to this shelf later to continue, but for now there's the possibility of a lead.

"I very much want to return to it...I feel like all of the answers are there, wherever 'there' may be." She smiles as if she knows a secret. "As it so happens, I do remember some. I suspect it's because the pure land is a part of the forest. While the forest is purifying the earth, the pure land is the result of the purification. As soon as I remembered the forest exists, the ties between it and the pure land became clear."

Day 8, evening

[grotesqueobserver]

Either the Library has sprouted a new sculpture (not altogether unheard of, come to think of it), or the feathered girl is not the only one trying to delve into Arcadian literature. He's made a significant dent in one of the shelves near the door, if the large gap and matching pile of books at his feet is any indication. He flips through the book in his hands, carefully adding it to the pile and taking another from the shelf.

He looks up when he hears her approach, offering a smile. "I don't suppose you'd happen to know how this place is organized, by any chance?"

[wingedapostle]

"Ah, I'm afraid not," she says, somewhat surprised to see another being in this part of the library. Considering how large this place is, the odds of such a meeting seem small, but it's not unwelcome. "I have explored seven wings, but I haven't figured out which wings house which kinds of books." She laughs. "It might help if I could read any of them. I'm sure you're familiar with that feeling by now."

[grotesqueobserver]

He lets out a long, low whistle. "Seven wings! Wow, you've been busy." He gave her a little smile. "Though...come to think of it, I don't think I can blame you for spending a lot of time here." He looks up and down at the seemingly endless rows of books, a wistful smile on his face. "There's just something about being around all these books that just feels right to me. Though I'm afraid you're right; I'm in the same boat you are. I can't even tell what language most of these are."

[wingedapostle]

"Well, I haven't looked through any of them very thoroughly," she says with another laugh. "It was more of a passing-through sort of exploration, though it did take a while." She notes his smile, and she certainly notes the large pile of books next to him. He does seem like the type to enjoy the written word. "Are you seeking something in particular, or are you trying to see what you can find?"

[grotesqueobserver]

"With a place this big, I think my argument still stands," he laughs. He follows her gaze down to the pile on the floor. He actually has to think about that for a moment. "A little of both, actually. I'm...mostly just trying to look for anything...familiar, I guess? I was trying to figure out if there was some sort of system to all this, and I figured I could go from there." He waves a hand vaguely. "If there is a system though, I certainly haven't figured it out."

[wingedapostle]

"I understand," she says. "I suppose I, too, am looking for something familiar, though I do have specific topics in mind. I would ask you if you had seen anything relating to them, but considering our lingual predicament, it would likely not be of any use."

She takes a book from the shelf, opens it up, and puts it on the pile when she realizes she can't read it. She begins the motion again, but then stops. "Ah, I forgot to ask: Would you mind if I searched with you? We might find something if we search together."

[grotesqueobserver]

"Well...not necessarily," he points out. "We might come across something that's illustrated. And no, I don't mind at all. I'd enjoy the company, actually." He offered her a shy smile. "And I can't say I'm making terribly good progress on my own. Any suggestions?"

[wingedapostle]

She smiles at his answer. Searching with company is much better than searching alone. At least you can always talk to each other.

"I don't have any searching suggestions, other than not giving up. Taking breaks once every so often can be a good idea too. Unless you meant something other than that, of course." She considers the pile at his feet again, then looks back up at him. "You're right about the illustrations; I hadn't considered them. Have you seen any in these books so far?"

day 8, evening. REALLY, ANY DAY

[ovidscholar]

"I do wish I could assist," says the librarian. He hoists his lantern, a necessity in some of the stacks. "To a greater degree. I'm as lost as you in terms of understanding."

He splays his hand over the spines before him. Titles and prefaces spring to mind, knowledge he cannot recall gaining but he has nonetheless.

[wingedapostle]

She smiles at the familiar face. It's a welcome sight among all of these books. She's spent so much time looking through them that she half-suspects she might become one. "It does seem to be a common problem in here. I haven't met one person who has found a book they can read, but I won't be giving up. Not until I find...what I'm looking for, hopefully."

[ovidscholar]

"They're here," he says, "I'm sure of it. I think it stands to reason that given such a multitude of tongues, you'll find one you recognize."

When, he doesn't know. He cranes his neck and squints at the very top of the shelf before him.

"In fact," he murmurs. "In fact--"

[wingedapostle]

She glances between the top of the shelf and the librarian's face. "Do you see anything promising up there?" she asks.

If he's getting a feeling about that section, there should be something there, right? She can only hope so. Seeing all of the strange and beautiful languages contained within these books is nice and all, but her favorite part of this is getting results.

[ovidscholar]

"Nothing yet, but I've had a thought," he says. "Rest your wings a little while."

He crouches at the bottom of the shelf. There's a drawer here. It's full of cards: playing cards, calling cards, business cards, nothing they'd recognize save tarot. This does not concern the librarian. He looks at the back of the cards; they bear numbers and titles, all in his elegant hand.

He slides the drawer out entirely, and kneeling, he offers it to her.

[wingedapostle]

The drawer is a surprise to her; she didn't even notice it while she was looking through the books. She takes it in her hands and looks over the contents. All of the cards are foreign to her, but she notices now what he was looking at. She picks out one of the cards. Flipping it over, she tilts it toward the lantern's light.

"What do all of these numbers mean?" she asks.

[ovidscholar]

"They're places. Wings, shelves, rows," he says, his voice rising in pitch, "terrific, don't you think? It's not just idle servant's work, it's mine. It is my writing. Suppose I had the idea of my own?"

He smacks a card against his palm.

"And so: short work! We locate a title and then the shelf."