etrayalogs | December Library Catch-All [ OPEN ]

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December Library Catch-All [ OPEN ]

WHO: John, Harold, and anyone who might find themselves at the Library
WHEN: December
WHERE: The Library!
WHAT: The Library is here and open to all! Come borrow books, find a comfy chair to relax in, or snoop around.
NOTES\WARNINGS: Will be added as they come up

The Library is a five-story neoclassical building of terra cotta, brick, and stone. And the inside is, in fact, a library! And rather clean and organized too. There's no dust, no muddy footprints (apart from your own), and all the shelves are organized by Dewey Decimal, subject, and author. All literature is something you might find in a 2010 New York City library: various forms of fiction, children's and teens' sections, history, science, cooking, gardening, the list goes on. There's even small sections of audiobooks on compact disks and of DVDs ranging from old classics to history shows. The first floor has a reading/study room, a comfortable space with deep armchairs and tables with chairs; the fifth floor has some smaller tables clustered under a skylight. Part of the second floor is abruptly closed off by a door with a biometric scanner that denies entry to anyone who isn't John Reese or Harold Finch; the walls surrounding this section are soundproofed, so even a keen listener won't hear anything from inside. Otherwise, it's a perfectly normal library!

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[Shadowheart is wearing the armour she almost always wears, padded gambeson beneath a chainmail shirt and leather breastplate, ornate spear strapped to her back. The gambeson, rather uncomfortable in warm weather, is helping keep her cosy now that it's winter, but the chainmail is excellent at soaking up the cold. She might need to go in search of a cloak before too long.

Alongside her trots Scratch, the big white dog enthusiastically nosing at the snow and barking at the drifts he kicks up. When he catches sight of another dog – and one with a ball, no less – he immediately takes off running, trying to get in on the game of fetch.]

I hope you don't mind. I think he misses having other animals to play with.

[ Ah, John recognizes her. He was right before, she's recognizable even without her masquerade attire on. He doesn't exactly give her a smile, but his face is less severe than usual. ]

Not at all. Bear likes other dogs.

[ John throws the ball for them, then watches them race off after it. ]

It's good to see you again.

[It's not until he speaks that's she certain he's the man she danced with at the masquerade. And once she's certain, her smile turns a little less perfunctory, a little more genuine.]

And it's good to see you without the mask. A face as handsome as I imagined.

[She isn't exactly flirting. She's appraising. And she likes what she sees.

Scratch barks loudly as he instigates a playful tussle with the other dog over the ball.]

[ That gets a brief smile from John. It's not entirely disingenuous. He's well aware that people like him for his looks, it's certainly a card he's played for work before. But he's also not entirely immune to being complimented by a beautiful woman who he's at least somewhat sociable with. ]

Is that your usual attire? I like it. Especially the spear.

[ A genuine compliment. He can admire someone who walks around armed and protected. Clearly a woman of action. He approves.

The dogs get a sideways glance but they seem to be having a grand time so he leaves them be. It's good for Bear to have a friend. ]

A girl can hardly walk around without protection, can she?

[She shrugs lightly. Really, she's surprised at how few people here wear armour. Speaking of which...]

I'd expect a soldier to be armed and armoured as well. [Yet here he is, without a scrap of armour on him or a weapon in sight.]

[ Well, John can let her in on a little secret of his. He unbuttons his suit jacket and pulls it aside, revealing his gun in a holster beneath. Then he buttons it back up again and anyone passing by would be none the wiser. ]

I am armed, just not armored.

[Shadowheart tilts her head curiously. She's been told that guns exist, and that they fire small projectiles, a little bit like a crossbow. But she's never actually seen one.]

Not a weapon I'm familiar with, I'm afraid. What is it?

[ Maybe if spears are a common weapon where she's from then it stands to reason she doesn't know what a gun is. ]

It's a gun. There's a shooting range here, if we leave the dogs outside I can show you what it does. Or another time.

Dancing, cooking, and using a gun? What can't you teach me?

[She's perfectly happy to leave the dogs to their own devices; Scratch is more than capable of taking care of himself for a few hours. And she is curious. Less so about the weapon – when one can rain down divine fire and bind otherwordly beings to one's service, a little bit of metal doesn't seem terribly impressive – but moreso about John's skills. If they're to be allies, she'll need to get a better sense of what he's capable of.]

I haven't got any pressing plans, and I'd rather spend the afternoon indoors with you than out here waiting for my toes to freeze off.

[ Well, John doesn't know how to use a spear, so she has one on him there. Or magic, not that he has any hopes of learning that. But he can show her how a gun works, that seems pretty harmless. ]

Sure, it's this way.

[ As he turns towards the direction of the shooting range John gives a whistle and Bear immediately ceases playing and runs over to his side, keeping pace as they walk; he is a very well trained dog. ]

How long have you been using a spear?

[ He's trying to get a feeling for how good she is with it. If she's carrying it around, probably pretty good? ]

[She turns to follow John, not bothering to whistle for Scratch. He's smart for a dog, and independent; he'll come if he pleases or meet them later. And, as it turns out, he does please, running after his newfound canine friend to catch up with them. But, unlike Bear, he doesn't walk alongside them, instead running ahead before bounding back with a stick in his mouth, which Shadowheart dutifully throws, sending him running off again.]

I'm not sure. [She shrugs lightly. She doesn't remember the first time someone put a spear in her hands, just that she was very young. And given that she's a half-elf who ages much more slowly than humans, that could have been fifteen years ago or fifty. Her memory is so corroded that she doesn't even know how old she is.] I've trained to use most basic weapons most of my life.

[ John isn't sure if that's an evasive answer or not. She sounds forthcoming but it's not a very precise answer; without knowing her age, which is impossible for him to judge, that could be any length of time. But "most of my life" implies it's been at least a while. ]

What counts as a "basic weapon" where you're from?

[ A "basic weapon" for him would be fists or a common model of handgun, but since she uses a spear does that mean a sword is a "basic weapon"? ]

Spears, quarterstaves, maces, daggers, crossbows. That sort of thing. I'm much more proficient with magic, though.

[Healing magic, in particular, has always seemed to come naturally to her, despite the goddess she served for so long being the embodiment of loss and grief. She half-wonders, sometimes, if that's to do with--

But she cuts that thought off, not wanting to ruin what's shaping up to be a pleasant day by thinking of the vagaries of the gods.]

[ "That sort of thing" is apparently anything John would consider medieval. Does that mean Shadowheart comes from a world where there's no electricity? No hot showers? That doesn't feel like a polite thing to ask, so he'll put the thought aside. ]

Can you tell me more about magic? There's none where I'm from.

I can. But it's a complicated subject.

[And if only Gale were here, he would regale John with exactly how complicated it is, in every single detail.

Shadowheart, on the other hand, is not so detail-oriented, and not interested in delivering an hours-long lecture on the minute differences between arcane and divine magic, and the different ways in which they may be learned.]

What do you want to know, exactly?

[ If John knew, he would be very thankful that he's asking Shadowheart and not Gale. As it stands, he's not entirely sure where to start since he knows absolutely nothing about it. ]

What can you do with it?

[ That seems like a fine jumping off point. ]

As I told you, I can heal most any wound. I can cure diseases, and poison, and lift certain charms and curses. I can even bring the dead back to life, within limits. There's other spells I can cast too, of course. Illusions, protection, divine fire, all sorts of things, really.

[The list is long, and going over every single spell she could cast would take a lot longer than the walk to where they're going.]

I can even conjure a plague of locusts, though I don't see why I'd want to.

[ That's quite the breadth of skills as far as John can tell. He's not sure if everyone who can use magic can do as much as Shadowheart, but he's impressed. ]

What limits do you have on bringing the dead back to life?

[ The locusts are interesting but in a humorous sort of way; the bringing the dead back is far more important. ]

They need to have died recently, within the last minute or so. And everything vital needs to be relatively intact. I can't regrow missing organs. Or missing heads, [she adds dryly.]

That sounds handy. Have you had to use it much?

[ He wonders if there's a certain level of skill that comes with practice, and if so whether she's had much. Probably she's been in dangerous situations if she's spent so much time training with weapons, but danger doesn't always mean death. And danger doesn't always mean companions to use such spells on. ]

You're asking if my companions are such poor fighters that they're in need of frequent resurrections? They'd be quite offended if they heard.

[Her attempt at feigning disapproval is undercut by the faint smile that steals across her face.]

I've been traveling with the likes of the Blade of Frontiers and the Fury of Avernus. They're quite capable of holding their own, I assure you.

[And then her expression falls ever so slightly. All she and the others have battled through, everything they've overcome, everything that, against all odds, they've survived, and now she's here, separated from them. Perhaps forever. They were a disparate group, thrown together by no choice of their own, but she's come to care for them. Even Lae'zel.]

[ "The Blade of Frontiers" and "the Fury of Avernus" sound like such grand titles. Are they friends? Her smile seems to indicate they might be, especially if they were companions. Went on adventures, the stuff out of tales. Maybe she wants to talk about them, remember them. ]

What are they like?

[ He's been alone for so long, or— he has Harold. Harold who is constantly in his ear, Harold who gave him a loft, Harold who orders a constant stream of suits for him. So no, he's not alone any longer, even if struggles to put a proper word to what Harold is to him. ]

Looking for thrilling tales of our heroics? [Her smile turns wry.] There's not much to say, really. [There is, of course. And if they succeed in saving the Sword Coast, and if they survive, she's sure Wyll will pen a flowery memoir detailing the Blade's adventures, but there isn't much she wants to say. Not to someone who's still a relative stranger. Not about her friends.]

They were my traveling companions by circumstance, rather than choice, but some of us did grow... close, in our time together. Some of them are good people, the best I've ever known. Some of them are quite the opposite. But each of them is exactly the sort of person I'd want on my side in a fight.

[ John choses to take that as her not wanting to talk about them. That's fine, he wouldn't want to talk about Harold. They can drop the topic, especially since the shooting range is in sight. ]

Having people you can trust in a fight is important. [ Especially if she does a lot of it, which it sounds like she might. ] That's the shooting range up ahead. Before we get set up with protective gear I can show you the different parts of a gun. Once I start shooting we'll need to wear hearing protection, so I'll explain things before that.

I'm not entirely a stranger to ballistic weaponry. I've handled bows and crossbows before, after all.

[There's a flutter of annoyance — even worse, of trepidation — at the reminder that there are an awful lot of things in this world that she doesn't understand, and there are so many people who have an advantage over her because of it. And one of those things is guns. So she attempts — with minimal success, as she's never been particularly good at hiding her emotions — to project an air of confidence she doesn't feel as they enter the shooting range.]

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I'm so sorry for how late this is, the holidays have been nuts

Please don't worry, I will tag things forever!

🖤

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