#ask-the-librarian

[askquillsans]

·-{Prologue -⎚-⎚- Part Two}-·

"And the mind demanded a home. room, UNIVERSE, tower. Something infinite."

"1) No story may be removed

2) No story may be altered

3) Access is a permission

—Never a right

4) Curiosity without guidance is lethal"

"The thought of a visitor; Curious, Reckless, Hungry. Shaped the rules."

"And so The Librarian waited."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[ Previous 🪶 ]

[askquillsans]

HELLOO QUILL!! So uh, we'll ask the basics here- what's your favorite novel??

[ 📖 ] ───────────

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.

[ 📖 ] ───────────

✧ ˚₊‧꒰ა𓂋·☆ ʜᴀʟᴏ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ ☆ 𓂋໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ✧

ǫᴜɪʟʟ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢʀᴀᴠɪᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʟᴀʏᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴅ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇʏ… sᴇᴛᴛʟᴇ. ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴜsᴜᴀʟ sᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴍᴇᴛᴀ ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛs, ᴏʀ ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴏғ sᴇʟғ-ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇɴᴇss ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴛʜᴇʏ’ᴅ ʙᴇ ᴅʀᴀᴡɴ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴘᴇʀsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏғ “ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ” ɪᴛsᴇʟғ. ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ʏᴏᴜ sᴛᴇᴘ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴏғ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ɪᴛ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ’ᴅ ʙᴇ sᴜʀᴘʀɪsɪɴɢʟʏ sᴏғᴛ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ ǫᴜɪᴇᴛ, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs. ᴏɴᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴏᴄᴜs ᴏɴ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇs, ᴜɴsᴘᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ sʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ sɪᴛ ǫᴜɪᴇᴛʟʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ. ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀsᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢs, ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢs, ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢғᴜʟ ᴡᴀʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇsᴛ.

House of Leaves, If on a winter's night a traveler, The Night Circus, The Book Thief, A Monster Calls, etc.

✧ ˚₊‧꒰ა𓂋·☆ ʜᴀʟᴏ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ ☆ 𓂋໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ✧

[askquillsans]

Oh hello! This looks very very interesting!

How do you do librarian?

(And to your creators! Lovely job you've done, this is beautiful art and writing and it looks to be very very exciting!!)

-🌓

[Next 📜]

· · ─ ·𖥸fe★(he knows it's independent... right?? ALSO TYSM YOU'RE TOO NICE!!!★rn𖥸· ─ · ·

✧ ˚₊‧꒰ა𓂋·☆ yᴇᴀʜ… ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ ɪs ʟᴀᴢɪᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀɴʏ sᴀɴs… ☆ 𓂋໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ✧

[askquillsans]

·-{Prologue -⎚-⎚- Part One}-·

"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."

✎ᝰ⊹₊• ` ━━━━⊱·⋆·⊰—-·

[Next 📜]

[askquillsans]

[Categorizing... Fixing...]

* In a multiverse of chaos, someone has to have order. —^⎚-⎚^

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✎ᝰ.📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦

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· · ─ ·𖥸fe★(𝐇𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲... "𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫" 𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐖)★rn𖥸· ─ · ·

✧ ˚₊‧꒰ა𓂋·☆ (ʟᴇᴛ’s ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ... ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴄᴇ) ☆·𓂋໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ✧

—Quill / The Librarian is now open for asks. 📜🪶