[SE] Don't be shelf-ish

The journey had indeed only taken a couple of days in the fair weather of Longheat. The Peregrine was small for a skyboat but swift for her size, and Tal was deft at reading the winds and currents of the higher air. Testing the compass proved the trade's worth, too, and Messenger brightened considerably at seeing it in action. Though he made an attempt to teach Maea there simply wasn't time to pass on several years of experience in such a short time, and the courier was never good with words, especially to explain something that was as much felt as seen. The best that he could do was agree to continue the lessons the next time she rode with him, in the hopes that, like him, she'd pick the knack up eventually.

It was lunchtime when they arrived at the skyport and docked. Tal moved briskly into town, Boreal circling overhead and watching out for void-tainted fauna that might attempt to waylay her human again. She had a particular vendetta against tangleweeds...

But today the journey was uneventful, and they made their way to the Atheneum without incident. It was the courier's first visit to the imposing edifice, and he slipped inside with a complicated expression on his face, stopping suddenly in the doorway to take in the towering rotunda and whistle in reluctant astonishment. "Well... hail. That's... wow. A lotta fuckin' books."

Perhaps his legend title should have been 'Captain Obvious' instead.

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

A transformation occurred with the Ancient female as the journey came upon its last leg. While Maea still proved an attentive and enthusiastic student of skyship sailing, some of the sunny disposition began to fade. The closer thry came to the Hollowed Grounds the quieter she became, and when the Spire began to appear like a dark pinprick on the horizon it was as if she drew in on herself.

Evidence of the flood was scarce in the northern parts of the Outer Brambles. Much of any excess water had already receded and vaporized in the crushing temperature of Longheat and was soon gone altogether. The Inner Quarter looked much as it always had; gray, dusty and emanating an air of bullheaded stubbornness, a refusal to cave to the bite of time. Here and there a black ruin poked up, evidencing the meteor debris that had followed upon the Starfall - but any catastrophy was entirely on a personal level. Hardly anything to get your tail in a twist about.

Maea could have slipped away as soon as the Peregrin docked. She was home now, back to where her journey had started, and that should be that. Instead she quietly trailed along with Tal, reluctant to part ways even now, unable to just drop the easy camaraderie they had developed over the past few days.

Watching him leave would be lonesome.

Smiling faintly at the Messenger's astonishment, there was a touch of pride in her expression as Maea looked around the Atheneum. "It's impressive, isnt it. It's my favorite place in the whole region." Strolling deeper into the building, she followed the new canals with her gaze, still not accustomed to their presence. "The offices of the caretakers is in the basement. This way." She began to lead the way; Tal would likely want to complete his delivery first and foremost.

Maea

"Huh." Still too gobsmacked to dredge up anything clever to say, Tal trailed after Maea with his head on a swivel as he looked up and around at the ancient books and towering shelves around them. He was so busy craning his head up to try and see if anything was painted on the rotunda that he missed one of the wonders lower down.

On the ground, to be precise.

As he followed the flicker of Maea's horns from the corner of his eyes he didn't watch his footing, and one boot came down on the edge of a canal. He stumbled and started to pitch into the water with a muffled yelp, only managing to save himself from a full dunking with a twist of his body that would have been impressively graceful if he hadn't been flailing his arms at the time. Somehow he landed on the edge of the canal, pulling his leg up quickly out of the waters as he glared down at them with a fierce scowl.

They glared back with his own rippling reflection as he scrambled back to his feet and hurried to catch up with Maea, bristling like a cat that had just slipped into a bathtub as he hunched his shoulders and jammed his hands in his pockets, doing his best to pretend he hadn't just slipped.

"Stupid libraries," he grumbled under his breath as he followed her into the basement. "What's so special 'bout all these books, anyways?"

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

"Watch your step." Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at his contortions, Maea pretended she hadn't seen his stumble. She trailed light fingertips over the spine of the old volumes as they passed, affectionate the way one might stroke a cat or a favorite blanket.

"Books are more than just words," she replied in response to Talyson's grumblings. "While they certainly contain important information on everything you might want to know about this world, they also allow a glimpse into the minds of the person who wrote it. Each volume carry fragments of thought left behind by the authors, spanning across the years from before the first war and all across the centuries of isolation." She smiled at Tal, a bit melancholy. "For a long time, this library was everything the people of this region had to explain the world. As far as I'm concerned, it's the single most valuable thing in the whole of the Hollowed Grounds."

Leading the way into a hallway and down a spiraling flight of stairs, Maea threw a long look at the Loreseekers old quarters but passed them by, making for the knowledge keepers office. Scholars and librarians, they were few in number but entirely devoted to the care of the books, regardless of the comings and goings of guilds and leaders. More permanent than even the Spire itself, Maea remembered being frightened and fascinated by the robed figures as a child. It had been an early aspiration of hers to join their ranks, until she learned of her failing eyesight and better understood what it meant to give her life to a task.

Knocking on an unassuming looking office door, there was no answer. Daring to crack the door open peek inside showed the room to be empty,. Humming to herself, quiet footsteps echoing in the stone-walled hallways had her look over her shoulder, at a quite keeper burdened with a stack of ancient Scrolls.

"Excuse me - do you know where we might find Ms Thrushwick?" Maea asked.
The robed figure, a young man with sandy hair, nodded and pointed to where he had come from.
"In the archives. But she's a bit busy, there's been an accident."
"An accident? What happened?" Maea shot a quick look at Tal, growing worried.
"A shelf collapsed, and we discovered some paper wasp nest. Old, but they have done some damage to the collection. Ms Thrushwick is understandably distraught."
"I see. Thank you for your time." The young man nodded and moved on.

Maea turned to Tal. "What do you want to do? We could come back later, or check to see if she will receive your delivery anyway..."

Maea

There was no way she hadn't noticed his little accident, but at least she didn't mention it or, worse, offer to help him. Tal tugged his tunic to straighten it, giving Maea's back a look of grudging gratitude and actually listening as she gave her lecture on the importance of dead trees filled with scribbles."Y'sound like my old teacher," he admitted in a voice that was gruff but not mocking. "Guess it's alright, though. My sister Mal'd prob'ly love this place." A much more scholarly Seawright, was Mallory, second-eldest of the four siblings and a fiend for numbers and books.

Down the stairway they went, and Tal's shoulders hunched higher with every step until they practically touched his ears. The fading scowl returned as he looked around jerkily before choosing to keep his eyes glued to the back of Maea's pale head. He stopped when she did, and had just taken a breath and started to force himself straight when the silence from inside the door became obvious, and the crack it was opened revealed no one inside. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of soft footsteps, and his hopes were dashed before they could even rise. This was obviously no 'Ms. Thrushwick' approaching, but before he could open his mouth Maea had stepped forward to take the lead.

Dark brows beetled together at the mention of an accident and Tal shared a look with Maea as the story came to light. As the young man moved away the courier shrugged, tense but stubborn. "Let's go see. I'll feel better t'get it dropped off right away. An' I know a thing or two about shelves," he added ruefully, thinking of all the shelving he'd built in recent years as he'd fixed up his delivery stations around Caido, including in the Grounds.

Falling in behind Maea again, he followed her towards the archives, though one thought did make his steps pause briefly. "So, uh... what's a 'paper wasp'?"

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

Accepting his decision without complaint, Maea led the way down the hallway to a set of double doors that entranced the archives. Home to the oldest and most fragile texts, the air within was dry and cool, perfect for preservation of biological matter. Not entirely removed from a tomb, actually.

"Probably close to what you are picturing," she explained as they walked, keeping her voice down to fight the echo. "Wasps made from paper, they eat ink and make nests from parchment and can be really nasty to deal with. They love this place, I've lost track of how many times I've helped smoke them out." It was a good thing the nest was old; hopefully that meant all the pests would have fried and crumbled away.

Winding their way in between ancient looking shelves, they came upon the scene of a veritable landslide of books, scrolls and scattered pieces of paper. A group of about five caretakers were busy gathering up the precious books, overseen by a plump woman with curly salt-and-pepper hair forced into a braid wound about the head and her hands dancing about her in a mute display of despair. 'Distraught' was a good description, and Maea was quite happy to wave Tal ahead to do the talking.

She shrank back to hide behind his back when Ms Thrushwick spotted them andbwhipped around with a sharp "Well! Can't you see we're busy? What's this about then?" The woman had always made her uneasy; like she'd reverted back to a child caught eating sticky sweets around the books.

Maea

Tomb was right, and Tal shivered as he shuffled in Maea's wake, hands jammed back into his pockets as he trailed behind her, though it had been his idea to help out. "Wasps're bad enough on their own. Hope they haven't gone all void-y like everythin' else," the courier muttered, nose wrinkling at the possibility of void wasps. Made of paper or otherwise.

Tal was pulled from his glum contemplation of the terrors that might await them by the shelves they passed. His steps slowed as he looked them over, momentarily distracted from his other anxieties, checking out their construction with professional interest. He was so busy examining the joints of one that he almost ran into Maea's back when she stopped, and only some fancy footwork saved them both from that indignity. Somehow in the shuffle she ended up behind him and he was facing the distraught librarian.

Well, he'd faced plenty worse. Some of his regulars in Halo were a lot worse, and Tal drew himself up, his 'customer service' face falling into place as he cleared his throat and reached into his bag to pull out the package. "Uh, delivery from Mr. Keelan in th'Undercroft," he informed her, sneaking glances at the chaos. "An' we can help fix up these shelves, if y'want," he added dutifully. "If y'have some spare lumber'n tools we can use."

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

The woman huffed and hawed for a moment, but the offer to repair the shelf seemed to placate her somewhat and she calmed even further, and offered Tal a scrutinizing once over when he handed over the parcel.
"Is that so? Kind offer, I do say... well, if you don't mind! There should be materials left from the last renovation in the storage room. Take what you need, and we will clean up here in the meantime."

Impressed with the way he managed to calm the woman down, Maea tugged lightly on the back of his shirt and pointed towards a side door tucked into one wall, nearly built over with shelves. "It's over there," she murmured, trying her best to stay out of MsThrushwick's line of sight. "Tell me what to do, and I'll help too."

Maea

"Yes, ma'am." Tal surreptitiously straightened beneath the librarian's stern regard, tugging at the edge of his tunic to smooth out any wrinkles after she claimed her package. As she turned away he visibly deflated back down, shoulders hunching a little as he looked around at the walls and ceiling above them with a frown that desperately wanted to twitch towards a scowl, but he managed to keep it at bay until they were well away from his recipient.

"She reminds me of one o' my school teachers," he whispered to Maea with a shiver. "Th'one that used t'smack my knuckles if I fell asleep in class!" Not the most studious child, was young Tal. Not unless the lesson had to do with dogs or the geography of Halo outside the Citadel's walls.

He followed the Ancient to the storage room and some of his discomfort faded as he looked over the supplies inside, brightening a little. "Hey, this isn't too bad. We c'n get a couple o' shelves up pretty quick with this." The lumber was already treated and sanded so delicate covers wouldn't catch on splinters, and the nails and screws were methodically sorted by length into clearly labeled boxes. Tal stepped into the room and grabbed two rolled up measuring tapes, tossing one to Maea. "Can y'take measurements of one o' th'standin' shelves? Get those numbers back t'me an' I'll start cuttin' th'supports t'size."

The shelves were fairly simple constructs, thankfully, and it wouldn't be hard to make ones that looked close to the originals.

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

Nodding in fervent understanding of the air Ms Thrushwick gave off, Maea was very happy to be given something to do. Idle hands were like a magnet for the woman, and she had a way of coaxing people into tasks that... well, made them agree.

Armored with a solid plan and armed with the measuring tape Maea set out to measure shelves. Scribbling down numbers on a piece of parchment she found in a pocket, she made sure to take down all the measures she could think of, and a few that seemed useless to her but which Tal had requested.

When finished, she scurried back to the courier, to get more instructions. "I've built shelves before, but only really simple ones," she admitted as the handed over the note. "Maybe if you measure out what you want, I can saw out the pieces?" She did know how to saw. And hammer, or glue, or both. Just not how to make sense of the angles and joints of the old but well constructed pieces in the room beyond.

Maea

Tal had busied himself with choosing the sturdy timbers for the side and rear supports and the flatter boards for the shelving. He was scribbling some notes on the style of the other shelves when Maea returned, looking far more alert and focused with a task to distract him. He snatched the scrap from her hands with an eager abruptness, muttering under his breath as he added the numbers onto his sketch and adjusting some of his previous lines with the new information.

"Okay... hang on, lemme just..." He chewed fiercely on the end of his pencil before taking his tape to one of the flat boards and marking out the length and width they needed before passing it off to the Ancient. "Here. Get that cut an' then y'can use it as a template for th'rest. We'll be needin' eight," he explained. Leaving her to the task, he went back to his sketch and then began marking out measurements on the larger boards. Four side boards cut to a slant and two back boards that were just simple rectangles. He marked a few more smaller boards for Maea to cut when she was done with the crossboards, and then he got to work with his own saw.

It took quite a bit of time to cut out all the pieces they would need, but when they were done Tal sat back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Right. Let's carry 'em all out t'where we'll be buildin' 'em. It'll be a lot easier t'just build 'em in place than tryin' t'move 'em afterwards." They were going to be sturdy as hail when he was done with them, which meant heavy, not to mention extremely unwieldy when it came to trying to maneuver them through doors!

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

"Got it."

A storm of sound like a hundred tired loggers whipped up in the storage room. With conversation made impossible Maea focused on simply getting the job done swiftly yet accurately. It went smoother with every piece she cut out, and when she was done with the sides she helped Tal with the shelves, then the supports.

She dusted off both herself and the shelves as best she could before leaning down to take her side of a stack of components. Not for the first time she reflected on how well they worked together, and as they emptied the room one trip at a time, Maea found it regrettable that the journey was coming to an end.

"How will you fit them together?" she asked, once everything had been gathered in the right spot. The caretakers had worked quickly to clear away the scrolls and broken shelving; all they needed now was to put the shelf together.

Maea

Tal came over to check on Maea's progress a couple of times, but he quickly came to the realization that she was no slouch with a saw, and after he found nothing to correct on his second visit either he went back to his own work. He was quick and neat, his woodworking skills well-practiced and honed over a decade and a half of building sleds and sleighs in Halo, and more recently building courier stations and homes. By the time Maea finished her work his own was done as well, and they were ready to shift the separate pieces out to their new forever home.

Luckily they were both strong enough to get things shifted in a few short trips, quiet for the most part as Tal scowled fiercely in thought, planning their next steps. Once they had all the pieces in place and they'd retrieved the wood glue, nails, and hammers he gave a decisive nod.

"Right. So we gotta build th'supports first, like this, see?" He pointed with the hammer and then realized that was probably insufficient. He stuck it through his belt instead and started to move the boards into position. "Run a bead of glue on th'thin edge o' this one, then if y'can hold 'em steady, I'll hammer th'nails in from t'other side. Nails'll keep it t'gether tight while th'glue dries, an' then th'glue'll keep th'nails from workin' out in th'future."

He waited to make sure Maea was on board and then off they went, getting the shelves built in a flurry of hammering and banging away as they continued to disturb the peace of the library for a little while longer.

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

She watched carefully as Tal explained how to proceed. It seemed fairly straight forward, especially since all she really needed to do was glue and hold. The only part that confused her was which piece that glued to another, and that was solved easily enough by just asking. And asking. And asking again, in the innocent kind of goldfish memory way that drove some people up the wall. But Maea figured it was better to ask one time too many over making the kind of mistake that forced them back to the measure-and-saw stage. She wasn't that fond of building shelves, even for the Atheneum.

All in all, it didn't take as long as she had thought it might to get the shelves put together. When the last piece was in place, Maea helped push it into place and stood back to admire the finished result.
"Now that's a job well done," she nodded with a satisfied grin, tail coiling lazily about her knees. "We are done, right? I'm getting hungry..." Thinking longingly of her favorite eatery down at the Last Whisper, her interest in carpentry was dwindling by the minute.

Maea