logsinthenight | A place to call home OPEN

Entry tags:

A place to call home OPEN

characters: Angel and you!
location: The Library
date/time: Jan 7th-11th
content: How to stay occupied in bad weather
warnings: none

[ It isn't as though Angel is unused to confined spaces, but now that she's had a taste of freedom the restlessness she feels at being contained to the four large walls of the library itches like thistles stuck under her skin.

Once she had acclimatized somewhat, Angel had made a small space for herself up in the library's rafters. If you're visiting to avoid the storm yourself, you may find yourself startled when you spot her. That, or you'll catch her browsing through the aisles, piling books into an arm that looks far to thin to hold the weight.

Either way she'll be happy for some company and a distraction as she waits out the bad weather. ]

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[See, the sad thing is? He was aiming for the Invincible. But it's storming so badly, and he's so cold, and the wind just lances through his jacket, and long story short, he ends up stumbling into the library. Does he realize it immediately? He does not, too busy shaking snow off his coat and hair. But sooner or later the Librarian's huffy grunts catch his attention, and he jerks.]

Oh. Uh, sorry.

[Well, shit. And maybe he should turn around and go, but the thought of going back out into that cold darkness is just a little too much to bear. Better to warm up here at first, right?

So he kicks off his boots (because they're soaked and he doesn't want to earn the Librarian's further ire), leaves them by the door, and carefully walks his way behind the first shelf he can. It's not that he doesn't want to stand near the Librarian, but also, god, they creep him out.

Maybe he's not the only one they creep out, because hey there's Angel, and, hey, god, this is not really how he'd planned on seeing her again.]

. . . hey. [And then, a little lamely:] You, uh, you need help with those?

[ For her part, Angel accustomed to the creatures that ran the library rather quickly. No uglier than a hungry skag, and far more friendly.

Humans, on the other hand...those she was still not used to being in such close proximity to, and her history has far worse associations for them.

So...don't take it too personally, Rhys, when she jumps a little as she runs into you-- well, almost into. She stops short before that happens, books shifting precariously in her arms as she attempts to regain balance. ]

Wha--

[ And one falls. Darn. ]

Well, I was doing fine.

Sorry.

[Kind of. But he bends down to grab the book-- and then, encouraged, takes two more off the top, so they're more evenly balanced. That's polite, right? And maybe it'll stop her from looking so skittish]

Reading anything good?

[ She bites the inside of her cheek at that, she was handling the weight just fine! Totally! But... the relief of having even a pound and a half lifted off her is a relief, she has to admit. ]

Thank you, I appreciate the help.

[ She flicks her head to the side, an attempt to move her bangs away and see where she's going as she heads for one of the reading tables, talking as she goes. ]

I don't know if I would call it good per se. I'm attempting to catch up on the history of this place, but doing so analog is...taking much longer than I'm used to.

Don't get me started on the lack of technology here.

[Is he still ass-blasted over this? He super is!]

You know what happens when I pull up my database? Nothing. Nothing happens. There's literally no network around here for me to connect to beyond their weird chat system.

[ Once she reaches the table she sets her books down, adjusting them so that they're stacked in a neat pile and turning back to him. ]

Your data-

[ She hasn't really gotten a good look at the guy, despite their earlier meeting. Eye contact was avoided, and she kept a wide distance between the two of them. Plus, the whole infinite darkness thing did not help. But it's been a couple of weeks now, and while she's not settled, there is a little more confidence to her.

She looks now, from his face to his arm, and back to hi eye. ]

Oh! You're more machine than I initially realized.

[ She seems pretty delighted by this, old comforts a subject that she's thoroughly educated in. She tilts her head, holding up the small glass orb and it's little flame that sits around her neck for a better look. ]

I don't recognize the branding though.

That's because it's Atlas tech.

[He's terribly proud of that. Even offers his arm, rolling up his sleeve and widening his eyes so she can get a better look.]

Designed it myself. Way better than my old Hyperion brand one-- that was nice, but it's also nice not to have a million ads telling me to buy Hyperion crap. Plus? Comes in different colors.

[ Of course it was Atlas tech... ]

But for it to be this refined...

[ Mumbling to herself. She wonders how many years it's been since her final moments compared to Rhys's. That he had built up Atlas enough to be producing this level of quality meant at least a number of years.

She nods as she keeps looking. No outright touching but she does lean in a little. ]

Yes, I remember the Hyperion line of enhancements, as well as the non-negotiable adspace that came with them. Way worse, if you were on any sort of payment plan.

I remember having to convince Jack that creating code to set the small bombs in them off any time a person clicked away from a pop-up without looking at it for at least twenty seconds would result in a bigger net loss than any sort of gain.

[ She winces, the name spoken without much though but suddenly having so much more weight to it, leaning back a little from her observations. ]

Your design is certainly sleeker in its build!

[ Though paisley???? Yikes. ]

[PAISLEY IS COOL, LET HIM LIVE.]

Yeah, good call, that . . . sounds horrifying. But on-brand.

[Ha ha, oh, Jack, with your sociopathic ways . . . fun times. Rhys makes an odd little face, a rueful sort of hey yeah he was the worst, let's maybe not linger on it, and then they're moving on.]

Right?

[He sounds so giddy . . . he really is proud of it.]

Lighter, too, so there's less strain over time on the body. Means it's a little more expensive, which isn't ideal, but still: quality over quantity. To a point, anyway.

[He's nice, but he's not naive to how business works.]

Pretty cool.

[ Angel replies to that with a strained smile, if she never had to hear a sales pitch for technology again it would be too soon. She turns back to her pile of books, despite her continued interest in Rhys's prosthetics. To investigate further would be invasive...and dangerous.

Instead she idly walks the conversation back a little. ]

You know, even if connecting to the echonet is out of the question, there's likely a way to synch up your arm and eye with the network present here.

[He frowns faintly.]

Yeah. I mean, I've got that part down, kind of, though I wouldn't mind a second pair of eyes-- it's just so basic, you know? They don't even have a search engine.

[. . .]

What is it?

[ She hesitates, for a moment. Weighs risk against her curiosity, then again against her helpful nature.

It's been so long since she's spoken to any kind of truly complex code. There's much to be desired when it came to the technology in this place, and ever since arriving she had felt her connection to her one comfort, her one constant, wavering.

Once she's considered her options thoroughly she puts out her hand towards him. ]

Here, hand me your tablet.

Erm, please.

. . . okay.

[He's wary-- of course he is-- but how much damage can she possibly do? Frankly, even if she's a top-tier hacker, it's not as if he's got Atlas secrets on here. It's not like it matters anymore.

So he offers her his tablet, and watches her carefully.]

[The Soldier isn't really here for the books. They're mid-patrol, and only ducking in here to take a break from the cold, shake some snow off their coat and boots, check on Sora maybe, and have a snack. The cold doesn't bother them as much as it does most people, but only if they keep fully fed at pretty much all times while out in it. As soon as the metabolism starts working too hard, so does the core body temperature.

So once free of snow, and after singing a brief greeting in spirit-speech to the librarian spirit, they find a shelf-end to lean on and start chomping through a bag of nuts, pretzels, and raisins from a bag in one of their many (many) pockets.

Because being an assassin requires impeccable situational awareness, they are one of a few people who think to look up inside a building. And pause mid-chew. And stare a little. There's a woman in the rafters. What the fuck.]

[ With no end to the storm in sight, Angel has been filling some of her time with an old activity: sketching. A hobby she took up back home, intended to channel her emotions, and intended as a means of escape. She needs that now, something to take her mind off of being cooped up. But one slip of the hand and the graphite she's using to draw with rolls off the paper and down to the floor.

Luckily someone is below to pick it up, or perhaps catch it? Maybe with their head.

Either way they'll hear her sigh loudly before peering over the boards balanced between the rafters that she's been sitting on and catching sight of them. ]

Oh! Um...hi.

[They stick the metal hand out, and catch the pencil. Or stick of plain graphite, if it's not actually a real pencil. Getting it back up there is going to be fun. They can do it, sure, but climbing the shelves or forcing the rafters to handle the weight of the arm when they jump it.

Easier to get the woman to come back down. And also, they're curious, looking between the pencil and her. They don't make eye contact, not quite, but they don't look unfriendly, just kind of baffled.]

What are you doing up there.

[ A small lopsided smile ]

Avoiding the storm, the same as you I'm presuming.

[ On closer inspection, the man will be able to see that a couple wide planks of wood have actually been laid across the rafter beams, the small light of Angel's lantern illuminating a makeshift livingspace up there complete with bedroll and books stacked to create a small table. ]

Sorry to inconvenience you, but could you pass that piece of graphite to me?

Is there a ladder or do you need me to climb a bookshelf.

[It comes out a little dry. Because the Soldier is tall, but not that tall.]

Why aren't you at the Invincible? Or in one of the cabins. Got to be warmer there. Someone would be willing to share a room.

[Surely someone would. Especially if they knew she was living in the rafters of the library, Jesus.]

[Crowley, for one, does not care for libraries. He does, however, prefer the indoors to the freezing outdoors. And maybe he can find a book or two here to bring Aziraphale. He shoots the angel a message to tell him he's stuck somewhere for the moment, and then grumbles his way into the stacks, looking annoyed up at the books.]

And this is where we all freeze to death, is it? Surrounded by books.

[He sounds utterly disgusted.]

[ Angel sits at one of the large reading tables, illuminated by her small lantern with three books simultaneously opened in front of her. She speaks without looking up from the text. ]

There are much worse ways to go, in my experience.

Are you not a fan of literature?

[ Sora is awake in his cot in the (teen?) fiction section. Yeah, it's been a week by now. More than that, actually. He's probably going to have to start really thinking about making sure the Librarian knows that he doesn't plan on being a bother for as long as he's here. He really hopes that other housing that the Network guy was talking about opens up.

He's staring up at the rafters, staring at the little motes of dust that swirl down. That's. A lot of dust actually. Too much? He sits up and squints, grabbing his lantern and hoisting it higher to see if some spirit is up there.

Two things happen at the same time.

1. He squints really hard, activating his still-useless night vision as sort of a security blanket, and spots a sudden shift of movement up there in the dim, dim halflight, accompanied by the thin light of... something? Up there? This surprises him! He yells.

2. A little dust gets up his nose. He sneezes, violently.

Both things combined thrust him back and into the bookcase behind him, knocking books from the top and causing a rain of literature to come crashing down on him. It's not great! ]

AUGH! [ The dust... settles. ] Ow...

[ Angel doesn't have much, that's to be sure, but what she does have she likes to keep neat and orderly. Even if it's just a pile of old books and some loose paper. Ergo: she's taken to brushing away dust and debris off of the little platform that she made her home a couple of weeks ago. She hadn't considered someone might be camping below her.

At the loud commotion of noise, Angel jumps, likely prompting more dust to fall, before looking over the edge of the platform ]

Oh! Oh no. I am- so. So sorry. One moment.

[ And though she disappears from sight, the distinct creaking of a ladder can be heard from the other side of the shelves. ]

[ He hears the voice, but to be honest, she could be a ghost for all he knows! He digs his way out of his little blanket of books, sneezing, and then sneezing again (well, he knows where to dust next, at least), and then just. Sits there, surveying the damage. Man, that's a lot of books. He's going to have to put them all in the reshelving area. Aw, nuts.

He looks upward again, where he sees shadows moving against the ceiling. Along the wall. Wait, what's that creaking noise? He shifts in his cot, pushing some books to the floor, and cranes his neck to peer at the other end of the aisle, listening intently to the noises coming closer. He... doesn't know what's coming.

He summons his keyblade and puts his hand on the hilt, but keeps it down on the cot, on top of the pile of books. Hey, you can never be too careful. ]

Is someone there? [ He's a little shaken, so it's not the most confident tone, but it's definitely loud enough to carry. Maybe a little too loud. He slaps a hand over his mouth, then removes it. Library voice, right. ] Is someone there?

[ A few moments later Angel is making her way around the shelves only to be met with....whatever is happening here.

A teenage boy holding up what looks to be an oversized key. It reminds her a little of those big foam hands people would wear to the slaughter dome...just comically big.

Regardless, she puts up her hands to placate, because the boy looks like he could be ready for a fight, and strange an item as it is that big key looks heavy. ]

I am so sorry, I had no idea anyone was down here.

[ -- Oh, it's just a person. A very... penitent sounding person? Sora will take one look at her, studying her with the light of his lantern, then dismiss his keyblade, letting it melt away into light. ]

It's. It's okay! You just surprised me, is all. [ He grins apologetically, although it's a wonder why if he's the one covered in books. ] Sorry, I just had no idea anyone else was here too. Do you live up there? [ He points up to where he saw that light on the wall. It had never even occurred to him to look up there for new faces. ] I've only been here a week or so. Can't believe I didn't catch you in all this time.

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A place to call home OPEN

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