Sunday, January 24, 2010

Thusly

The times have been rough. All that seems to be on anyone's lips are I need to speak with... blank. Or there is no one in the library when .... blah. Really now, there are not so many librarians in the city, we cannot be there all the time, we are only volunteers to this city... we do not get paid, in fact were threatened daily. Goodness, it is high risk being a citizen, it seems as though it is even worse being a librarian. We have a price for information, just as any one else would charge for a service... we cannot be expected to just give out information willy nilly... or just as easily as one seems to have the ability to find a drink in the bar...

But really... one would threaten the library or a librarian when there is little left to threat? The building has stood for years before and will stand after. Anyone harmed can be mended in some way, save for the few that seem to truely die and disappear, it was simply their time. The whole threat angle steadily becomes less and less of a concern... one cannot gather information from a dead person as is someone is less willing to give out information when something is amiss.

Why do the citizens not just come politely, get what we ask for in return of information and leave? It is really a simple policy that many seem able to abide by
and has worked in the past, why are there still a few that continue to fight? I must admit it is much like bashing one's head against a post as they seem to turn
a deaf ear.

*Reads back a bit*

Goodness, perhaps Toxia has changed my outlook on things. I suppose however, one can only expect personalities to rub off upon another, Denenthorn would be no exception towards me... he has shown me an amount of bravery in words, even if there is a bit of hiding involved with it; I am no fool.

A most strange occurance though, Dio has shown me something of great value, a very strange book intended for memories. It is a wonderment that he has established it this far however, he owes me two books still in return for the one he has changed. I will have to remember to go to him and collect that which is rightfully mine.

It is also most strange that when the library is open nearly 24/7 how when we close it for twenty minutes that is the time everyone wishes to enter it.

I have so much more to write, but the time is for rest now.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Learning

Though I spent years, nearly a century and a half learning from books in limbo, it does not compare to practical establishment and implementation of knowledge.

I might be noted to have knowledge of everything or anything under the sun however my experience with people is lacking. I have manipulation at my finger tips however, I can be just as easily manipulated. I prefer the former to the latter personally, however there have been occasions where the latter has proven to be profitable.

I have not ignored you so much as I have gotten busy with the city. It seems to flourish a new each day, we have new librarians come in, we have a few leave, but none leave as detrimentally as one. He was working in our stead, it should have been standard book retrieval however the identity of the one in question was mistaken.

The Reckoning seem to be out for blood over this mistake, yet it is they who offended us. They stole from my precious library, no permission was given, I do not even know how they were able to find the books they aquired as the file system is scrambled for that very reason.

Regardless it happened, what more are we expected to than hire someone to retrieve that which we cannot? However they captured him and tortured ihm for information, about who had sent him. Just like any good mercenary he took his information to the grave.

But he is needed. Thusly it was taken by Denenthorn and myself to resurrect him. He is with us once more but in a badly weakened state. His voice has not returned, better still I am in claim of his memories. I will turn them over to Pontifex once more since he has greater dealings with such things.

To trace back my steps a bit, Pontifex has shown me his drink. He had shown me his wine, made that of lust, innocence, and loss once before but this drink was his own. I took my sip ever=so=gently and I will never be the same for it. I dare not write what I saw, for if this would get into the wrong hands, only I should be the one to suffer. However, I can say that I feel more him more deeply than I had before. He and I share more in common with each other than I could ever have realized without it.

That night I gave him a small portion of my story, that which only my brother knows of and even then I think he would deny it.

((Following are logs taken from the South East Bar))

[23:33] Felice Nightfire nods, "Quite yes, at the moment I do." she tilts her head, "Go ahead?" she looks a bit shocked, "You wish to hear it?"

[23:34] Pontifex Jenvieve nods, "If you're welling to tell..."

[23:38] Felice Nightfire sips the last of her wine setting the glass on the table as she nods once, "It is a story but only as far as I understand it... but not far enough in many parts." she tents her fingers over her lap, her eyes brightening with the renewed taste of the wine, fading slowly as she speaks, "I was born... long enough ago. I grew up near here... closer to the North, but none the less lived fairly normal. My father worked as an archeologist, my mother as a sunday school teacher, my brother had his school and his friends but I had my artist pad and charcoal."
[23:40] Pontifex Jenvieve listens, closing his eyes as he attempts to picture her words in grimy black and white.

[23:43] Felice Nightfire "I did not have much need for school then, I was about seven, my brother would watch me out of the corner of his eye since father was off on a dig somewhere out by what might be known now as India..." she thinks, tapping the table cloth, "Father came home and given me my pocket watch.... his pocket watch.... something had happened on the dig, he said that they found something unusual, unexplainable caverns, he hardly slept ont he journey." she shakes her head, "His eyes were dead when I looked at him to welcome him home, but he handed me the watch and his eyes livened." she says slowly, her wings tucking more tightly against her.

[23:46] Felice Nightfire "I was very little then.... very weak." she nods and looks to him for a long while, her eyes seeing to study him, "But I could see more than anyone else, I know what is out there, and it does not care about us." she states and breathes a little harder, her eyebrows creasing deeply as she looks away, holding her head and inhaling deeply. "Long..... very long story short.... my father and mother put me into the hospital." she gesutres behind her towards the beach a bit, "And I lived there until my love could remove me and take me somewhere descent."

[23:46] Pontifex Jenvieve opens his eyes briefly, to see if she had the pocket watch out as she told the story, then closed his eyes once more picturing the India dig.

[23:52] Felice Nightfire "He moves me into a nice flat, it was small but it was what could be afforded by him and he went to work at the factory." she says her lips pursing a bit tightly a moment. "I was able to draw more freely there... but I got so much worse." she sighs heavily, "I could not help my work, I was not conscious of the world.... my love.... got frustrated." she says and looks into her palms, rubbing at the ink there shaking her head again, "He got very angry and... decided .... must have decided to be merciful... to end my life..." she says sounding a bit forced on it.

[23:54] Pontifex Jenvieve opens his eyes to look at her as she speaks of her death. He takes another breath and lets his eyes fall to the table cloth.

[23:56] Felice Nightfire sighs deeply and sits back, "He decided to take a lead pipe to my head three times... and three was enough." she says with a bit of a shrug. She doesn't seem to notice a thin line of deep red, near black liquid drip down the front of her forhead very slowly, like chilled molassas. "Limbo was not so bad.... coming back and learning what I had missed was difficult... as well as emotional capacities."