📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦 Grow, learn, educate then do it all over again. Creators are @fernfoxes14 and @consoomerism ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ Ask The Librarian of your favorite universe, they've read your stories over and over again Are you ready to finally read their story? We hope you love our story the same way you've loved others 📚
We are both here to share the story of just how important, unique, chaotic and diverse human creativity can be.
I (fern) have always longed to share how much I love art and artists of all kinds; their creations have motivated and inspired me everyday. I would love to become that same spark for someone else, especially if it's from being in my most favorite fandom ever! (UTAU's AAAA!!!)
Hiya!! Am I allowed to give you a hug? I think you deserve one hehe
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Quill tilts their head slightly, the flicker of lamplight catching the edges of their glasses. Their fingers hover over the edge of a book as they offer a small, almost shy smile.
“Ah… thank you,” they say softly, their voice barely rising above the rustle of the pages around them. “I… I’m not really one for physical contact, but your thought is very kind. If it’s alright, perhaps we could do an air hug instead?”
They extend their arms gently in a wide, inviting arc, the faintest shimmer of a smile tugging at their lips.
HELLOO QUILL!! So uh, we'll ask the basics here- what's your favorite novel??
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Quill stands before a towering shelf in an Aisle, sleeves rolled slightly past their wrists, carefully sliding a thick volume into a narrow space between two others. The books here vary wildly in size and shape. some thin as pamphlets, others heavy enough to bow the wood beneath them. At the question, they pause mid-motion, one finger resting along the spine of a book that hums faintly with compressed timelines.
“My favorite book?” they repeat softly. They tilt their head in thought, then shake it once.
“I’m afraid I don’t have one.” They slide the book into place with a gentle push and immediately pull another halfway free, reading the title along its spine with quiet fondness.
“There are simply too many remarkable volumes for a single favorite to be practical. For example The Bloom of Six Thousand Springs, a rather delicate book about a civilization that measures time in the opening of flowers. And over here… ah, yes—A Boy Who Taught Lightning, which is technically the third entry in the First Lessons series, though it stands perfectly well on its own. And this one—Seven Minutes Before the Ocean—that one is quite popular in many universes I believe!”
They shift a few books down the shelf, adjusting their order with practiced precision.
“Then there are the shorter works. Tea at the End of Winter, for instance. The Bridge for Footsteps… a very slow-burn story. Oh—and A Catalog of Unsent Apologies—that one is surprisingly dense for its length.”
Their expression brightens slightly as they pull out a thicker, well-worn book and brush a thin layer of dust from its spine.
“Ah! This one, actually.” They cradle it carefully, turning it so the light catches the title stamped faintly in silver.
“The Cartographer.”
Quill opens the book halfway, glancing down at the pages with unmistakable fondness. “It follows a traveler who maps the world. Every act of compassion redraws the map slightly. The ending is wonderfully unresolved.”
They seem to remember themselves then, sliding the book back into place with a small, content nod.
“But then again, there is also A Thousand Small Suns in a Jar, The Last Conversation Between Mountains, Three Lives of the Same Raindrop, The City That Only Existed on Thursdays, Instructions for Building a Soul, The Seventh Draft of Tomorrow, A Lighthouse for Lost Comets, and the entire Glass Orchard trilogy…”
Quill continues to talk as they organize and reorganize the same shelves.
Denoumentverse has finally been opened for the Voices. (you)
Quill takes the form of a Sans. They are The Librarian of this vast and progressing multiverse and more. They've read it all, seen it all, heard it all. Each story is kept inside a book, but...
"Before there was a Library, there was nothing. Not darkness. Not void."
"Not even absence in the way beings perceived absence."
"And then one day—as improbable as the collisions of atoms in the cosmos—a thought."
"It was not conscious. It did not know itself. It was simply... aware."
"First, a notion that there could be. Then, an idea that there might be. What is this?"
"Questions demand answers. Answers, once sought, demand form."
"The wisp became mind. Mind required structure. Structure required body. And body demanded purpose. Purpose required space. Space required containment. Containment required endurance."
"So, the body of the Librarian grew around the mind. Not for appearance but for efficiency of comprehension."