#ea7ca1
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Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
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Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 12, 2015 6:42:48 GMT
Within the grand library, in a dark corner with books piled high, Azalea is seated and leafing through the pages of the books. It was a simple pass time of hers that she found herself enjoying on lonesome nights. It's quite interesting to see what these people create. However, Azalea is incapable of reading the symbols and writings inside. So why the pile of books? That's quite simple: they are picture books or books filled with pictures such as field journals. And for the past week, Azalea had been mistakenly returning books in improper sections once finished leafing through them. How is possible for Azalea to be doing such things unnoticed? It's simple as well. Azalea for the past week and a half, had been entering the library after hours when no one, not even the librarians could disturb her. How does she do it? That itself can be shared another time, for now she leafs through a field journal showing pictures of creatures that look similar to her yet some looks more human while the others more plant. It was a book on dryads and nymphs. She supposed she could pass off as one of those creatures. If she did, perhaps she could see other things as well. She continued to sit and turn the pages one by one carefully She dared not risk sliming it with her fingers.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 12, 2015 7:12:47 GMT
Darkness was always thick in the library at night, entwining itself in sinuous coils around the dim lit shelves. But tonight... tonight, it almost had an eerie sense of life. From the corners untouched by the magical candelabras, formless monsters of id's device shifted ominously in the corner of any watcher's eye. As the moon passed behind a cloud, plunging the place even deeper into shadow, the air began to move. It slid slowly, innocently into the depths of the frenzied stacks, before releasing in a fetid breath that bore the stench of mildewed parchment. And on this respiration, words just beyond the border of reality seemed to ride.
"You shouldn't be here," they chided, airily as the speech of wind itself. All this was followed by a gripping wave of malaise, born from the sense of a room too quiet and empty. There was no sound. Not even the usual crackas of a settling structure, fush of a flame or fickle of a loose leaf of parchment. It was as if a great demon had stolen reality, only to replace it with a crude imitation devoid of any hearing.
"You shouldn't..." the ghost of an echo called again, somehow not breaking the dampening stillness of the perverted air.
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#ea7ca1
5
0
1
Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 13, 2015 7:41:15 GMT
"You shouldn't be here," the seemingly disembodied and wispy voice had no attention paid to at first. It wasn't until the voice spoke again did Azalea realize it was speaking to her at all. She tilted her head curiously ever so slightly along with her brow. The book no longer lied open in her lap as she had placed it among the rest of the pile of books that topped the table highly.
"And why is that?" An innocent question truly. And simple at that as well. She saw no qualms in what she was doing. And what she was doing was simply reading no really, the books of interest. Mayhaps this was just a joke as some would call it. Then there's the issue of having to reveal herself. She'll make do with what she held onto for the night.
(I apologize for the shortness, i am only half awake typing this.)
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 14, 2015 3:14:01 GMT
The breeze stopped, the room itself holding its breath in anticipation. Moonlight began to fill the room again as the offending clouds drifted past. Everything was normal again, and Azalea's question was swallowed into the darkness. Everything was back to the way it was before. Everything, except... from a nearby bookshelf came a gentle scratching, soft and feeble even in the silent place. Inconsequential, really. Something that would be ignored in an open library in the day. But in a closed library at night, even the smallest noises tended to draw eyes. Anyone who looked would see as a heavy book bound in black leather seemed to push itself to the edge of the shelf, teeter for a moment, then fall open to the floor with a startling crash. The fetid wind rose again, flipping the pages from 322, to 335, to 344, then stopping as soon as a certain place was reached. 436. The page contained an excerpt from notes on an archaic ritual, practiced by some tribal group far to the south.
"Whenever the Sesquapedians lie down for rest, they leave a bag of salt at the foot of their beds. Collected from the nearby sea, this mineral is believed to ward off evil spirits that visit the natives in dreams. When I questioned the chieftain about this unusual practice, he replied, 'from long ago, our people have been powerful dreamers. We see the spirit world in our sleep, and get knowledge from it. Bad things, bad spirits, try to stop us. We learned to use salt from a traveling sage, and ever since we began to harness it decades ago, the spirits have stopped.' I tried to pry further, inquiring about his certainty on the demons leaving them. He laughed, replying, 'they may still be there, but our people have stopped dying in their sleep, so that is good.' Whatever may me afflicting the gentle Sesquapedians, magical or scientific, it appears the presence of common sea salt prevents it. Never in my travels have I found such a powerful and odd use of a cooking commodity."
Sighing tragically, the breeze recessed, dying down to a trickle after its job had been completed.
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#ea7ca1
5
0
1
Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 17, 2015 6:15:16 GMT
Azalea flinched as the book fell and curiously watched the breeze turn the pages. How odd. Apparently the same voice before had read the excerpt aloud. Though they definitely had it memorized by heart to have known the page word for word without even looking. For all Azalea knew, they spoke nonsense. It was nonsensical and strange, just like the mentioned tribes with their sea salt. And just like nothing had happened to start with, Azalea dismissed the incident and returned to the book at hand. She shan't be bothered with such things as the winds to play tricks on her. Even if there was anybody there or rather anything, Azalea will pay no heed. The disturbance was minor and the distraction well met. She entertained them with her question and in return she was read to.
"If that is all you had to say, I shall resume as I was."
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 18, 2015 3:05:01 GMT
An angry vibration disturbed the air, the tactile equivalent of a booming foghorn. This was met with a growing tension, building up to some unknown climax, an omen of unseen proportions to whatever horrors might emerge from a conscious, erratic room of air and dark and power... then abruptly shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps. Around the corner of the shelves, a young girl peeked, a magic torch held to shine its white, sourceless light in Azalea's face.
"What in Idvesta's rage do you think you're doing?" she hissed. The child stepped into full view, pacing up to confront the intruder. "The library is closed! Do you think it is PROPER..."
She thrust the torch in the plant woman's face, emphasizing the word dramatically.
"...in any POSSIBLE..."
Thrust.
"...way at ALL..."
Thrust.
"...to sneak into a building at night, a library at that, and cause such a Den darned RACKET?"
She thrust the cylinder a fourth time, eyes wide and demanding for some sort of answer.
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#ea7ca1
5
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1
Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 18, 2015 5:05:22 GMT
The child hissed and thrusted a strange object upon her face, blinding her several times over. With eyes shut, she placed the book she held on the table once again before facing the young girl, giving her whole attention. A hint of a smile found its way into the curve of her lips. "Must you shine the light so closely? I can see just fine, thank you." Azalea found the girl oddly charming, and openly passionate. Were most humans like this? Such energetic creatures they are.
"Now what brings you here so late little one?" It was then that she opened her eyes to adjust to the new lighting. Forest green orbs staring deeply into younger deep blue ones.
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#ed1717
2
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1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 18, 2015 5:13:32 GMT
The nerve! Here Story was, scolding this little plant creature, and she just smiled at the girl like a dimwit. Not only that, but she asked why Story... apprentice head librarian, daughter of the librarian himself... was doing in the library.
"What brings ME here? My dad runs this place! You're the one who isn't supposed to be here!"
The child gave a groan of exasperation, throwing her hands hopelessly into the air. Obviously, she wasn't getting anywhere with this walking bush.
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#ea7ca1
5
0
1
Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 18, 2015 5:53:08 GMT
"Is that so?" She had replied slowly as if the child needed to be spoken to in such a way for her to understand her. A small joy was felt in teasing the child, something Azalea has not felt in centuries. The tilt of a head and a hand against her cheek gave her the cheeky smile she aimed for. She then carefully chose her next set of words for the feisty youngling. "But what am I to do in the night for fun?" She asked with a light-hearted tone conveying a not so serious dilemma.
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 18, 2015 18:18:30 GMT
"You're supposed to do what all normal people do. Sleep!"
In all honesty, Story was being quite the hypocrite. She herself had been reading, and had hoped to read through the night, when the raucous din had disturbed her. She was irritated for having HER quiet time stolen. Night in the library was when she had the Nook to herself.
"And if you don't want to sleep, then do something somewhere else," she added, to try and relieve a bit of the one-sidedness of it all.
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#ea7ca1
5
0
1
Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 19, 2015 5:59:18 GMT
"Tell me, what is this sleep you speak of?" Naturally she knew what it was and its purpose for the creatures that needed it, yet not once in her lifetime did she rest a peep. It was a joke in all good fun, but it held a hidden truth about her. She smiled and eased into her seat and motioned for her to sit with her. After all, company is a luxury for Azalea as she had limited herself from the humans. "I'd rather this conversation over many things young one, now tell me what it is exactly that you do here in this wonderful treasure trove of your father's?"
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 20, 2015 1:33:48 GMT
As soon as the nature deity asked its question, Story seemed to see what Azalea really was for the first time. The young girl went on guard, taking a quick step back, bearing the cylinder before her defensively. The mental processes were clear on her face. Confusion, wariness, and then renewed determination, as the preteen came to the conclusion non-mortals needed to follow the rules too.
"Look, I don't know who you are or what you are, but you're still trespassing. You want to know what I do? I make and uphold order. My dad is scattered, so I pick up the pieces, and right now, that's nothing more than what you are. A piece."
This being was like nothing Story had seen before, trespassing or not. Maybe something like pictures in books of myths and paranormal creatures, but never in reality. Story was unlike her sister. She didn't seek out the wonders of the world, but was instead complacent to learn about them, in the safety of the library. But when something so unique came across her path, natural curiosity won over sternness, if only for a moment.
"But... before you leave... could you tell me what you are?"
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#ea7ca1
5
0
1
Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 20, 2015 1:56:36 GMT
Azalea watched the young girl's face noting how her expressions changed and could only guess the girl has come to realize she was not like the others. Confused as to what she was most definitely. Wary of the unknown and, to her surprise, a new found determination."A piece? A piece to what exactly?" Was there a grand scheme she was not aware of and had been pulled into by chance? Or was this girl speaking of something entirely different? But no matter, she had her fun with the girl for the night and made a move to leave her seat since the girl appeared so adamant about her departure. How amusing. Just as she walked past her, Story had stopped her before she would leave.
"But... before you leave... could you tell me what you are?"
She half turned to the girl, forest green eyes sparkling against the artificial light Story held. "I am called Azalea."
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 20, 2015 4:43:26 GMT
"Azalea..."
The name was familiar, though Story couldn't place it. If she took the time to sort through her memory, she would find the link eventually, but at the time it was irrelevant. There would be plenty of time later to read on this creature. Now, when she actually stood before the girl, was not that time. Still the question burned unanswered.
"You told me your name. I don't want your name. Tell me what you are. You don't sleep, you sparkle in my light, you're skin is strange..."
The preteen almost said she was a vampyre, but then remembered vampyres generally aren't green and tiny.
"Are you an elemental? A nature spirit of some kind?"
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#ea7ca1
5
0
1
Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Sept 22, 2015 5:42:51 GMT
"Azalea should be enough for you to piece together. You are a sharp young mind, it shouldn't be too hard for you."
A playful smirk was evident on her face fully facing the preteen before she would depart.
"But alas, I am an unwanted guest, tis sad you wish to know more yet you push me away.."
Oh what fun it was to play around with the young librarian. Perhaps she'll visit another time and see if she had figured out what she was. A little game really. She stepped away into the recess of shadows, her eyes seemed to glow from the blanketing darkness. By the rustling of leaves and the creaking of wood under strain, Azalea left leaving the girl to imagine what it is she had done. In reality, she had manipulated her body to grow invertedly beneath the floor boards. Mimicking the reverse growth and simply disappearing through the cracks, the only sign of her ever being there was a lone pink flower that was left in her departure, Azalea left. She supposed returning to the gardens was in her best interest for the rest of the night.
"Until next time little one.."
[FIN]
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