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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 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.]

[ Bows and crossbows are nothing next to a gun and hold little to no semblance, so that gives John a good idea of where to start. He's paying enough attention to notice that she's not very comfortable as they approach, but doesn't know her well enough to know why. Better not to pry, for now. John gives Bear a command to go play as they walk inside and he goes to do just that, staying outside with his new dog friend.

It's thankfully warm inside the shooting range so John takes off his coat and folds it over the back of a chair in the entryway before moving into the main area. Thankfully there's a table where he can field strip his gun and he does so quickly, laying all the components out for Shadowheart to see. ]

How much would you like me to explain?

[ Better to pose the question than offend, either by going over things she already knows or making her feel like she doesn't know what he's asking. ]

[Scratch dashes off after Bear, barking happily, as Shadowheart follows John into the building. Unlike him, she makes no effort to make herself more comfortable, removing none of her armour and leaving her spear strapped to her back.

The precise workings of the gun are lost on her, but she watches John disassemble it closely. She isn't watching the gun so much as she's watching him: the ease with which he moves, his familiarity with the weapon. Though she wants to understand the gun, she's even more keen to understand John.]

As much as you like. Consider me your eager pupil.

[ He'll take that to mean he has permission to start with the basics. John starts by prying a bullet from the magazine and holding it up for her to see, indicating various points on it as he talks. ]

The purpose of a gun is to make this bullet shoot out really fast. It does so by causing an explosion behind the bullet, which forces it out of the barrel at high speeds. What we refer to as a "bullet" is really a cartridge that has three main components: the bullet, propellant, and primer. The case holds all of these together. To fire the bullet the primer in the back is ignited, which causes the propellant to combust, which causes high enough pressure to force the bullet to separate from the case and fly outward. In this case, since the cartridge is inside the barrel of the gun, the bullet flies wherever the barrel is facing. Does that make sense so far?

[ John is clearly as comfortable and familiar with the subject as he was with his gun. ]

[Shadowheart can tell almost immediately that she won't be remembering the details of this. And that's alright. She wants to understand it well enough that no one will be able to surprise her with one or get a leg up on her by knowing how they work, but the precise mechanics aren't terribly important to her.

Her eyes follow John's fingers as he points at various parts of the bullet. This level of knowledge is beyond the average thug or hired muscle. Shadowheart herself couldn't pull any weapon apart and name its various parts and describe how it works the way John can. This level of knowledge is that of a professional, someone experienced and capable. Someone who takes it very seriously.]

An explosion makes this thing— [She reaches out and taps the bullet.] —shoot towards a target. Easy enough, so far.

[ John does take guns very seriously, both professionally and as a hobby. He has precious few of those, but he does enjoy a good firearm.

He puts the bullet down and gestures to the parts of the gun he's taken apart, picking them for her to see as he explains. ~~And this is where I start skimming the explanation.~~ ]

The gun itself has three purposes: aiming the bullet, igniting the primer, and ejecting the casing. The barrel is what's used to direct the bullet; wherever you point is where it fires. The trigger is what releases the firing pin, which strikes the primer and ignites it. And then this mechanism is what ejects the spent casing so another bullet can be fired.

[Once again, the specific mechanical details go over her head, but once again she's not terribly worried about it. She understands the basics, and she's gaining a better understanding of John.

She reaches for the gun, running her finger across the trigger curiously.]

Pulling this little lever causes the bullet to shoot in the direction the gun is pointed. And the part of the bullet that isn't shot falls out.

[That's the bare-bones gist of it, anyway. Good enough for her purposes.]

And here I thought it would be complicated. You're quite the good teacher, John.

[She puts a finger on the gun's grip and spins it so it's facing John, an invitation for him to pick it up. The gesture is meant to be smooth and charming; in reality, she can't spin the gun that smoothly and the whole thing ends up being just a little awkward.]

When do I get to watch you use it?

[ Clearly that's sufficient for Shadowheart so John forgoes any further explanation. Unless she wanted to get into the details of the firing mechanism, there's not much more to grasp. He might be interested in guns but he's well aware most people don't share his hobby. Regardless of the awkwardness of her gun handling he understands the angle she was going for and gives a smile as he efficiently reassembles his gun. ]

Now, in fact.

[ Gun put back together, he fetches two pairs of hearing protection headphones and holds one out to her. ]

Guns are loud, so we use hearing protection in the shooting range. Not a luxury we can afford in the field, but there's no reason to ruin your hearing in here. Once you have that on we can communicate by hand signal and I'll give you a demonstration. When I'm shooting make sure to give me enough room. You can stand behind me or in a neighboring lane.

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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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i actually don't know much about guns so if any of this is wrong... yolo

me either so if there any errors I definitely won't be noticing them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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