Burning The Books (but not really) (SG)

[Victor Von Doomstein]

A tingling dampness permeated the room. A broken man felt the tugs of reality pulling at him, and attempted to crawl feebly back to a state of mind he missed so deeply. Yet, something nudged him backwards. It wouldn't be long after a few more of these promoting tugs in the right direction that Wallace did an absolute 180 degree turn. Just like that, the fact dawned upon him that he would probably never really face the light again. He wasn't sure what to think of that.

In reality, what Wallace really was doing was walking headfirst into a wall, promoted forward by the ever-helpful Hellion. Upon realization that he was just guiding his friend straight toward a dead-end, the little figure teetered about, floating from corner to corner, groping about until it could find a discernible source of light. While it was doing this, two more figures frolicked about in the darkness. Vual was continuing his warm, affectionate gaze towards Wallace, looming right behind his back.

Beelzebub was in a league of his own. While it may have appeared that he was simply orbiting the man, Wallace saw something similar, but to a much more nightmarish capacity. Two, three, no, four other U shaped Unowns seemed to be bouncing around him. They giggled and taunted, sneered and chortled, generating a reverberating chorus of laughter. "Stop.. No, the laughing, no, stop the floating!" Wallace swatted helplessly at these figures, but seemed to make no impact at all.

Whimpering, Wallace suddenly found himself getting pushed once more. A dim light revealed a large doorway into a much more spectacular area. As he stumbled and stumbled, he left - or, rather, was forced to leave, by the Hellion, who apparently kept barking orders at him. Maybe. "MOVE, YOU FLIMSY LITTLE SHIT!" Commands from a voice akin to that of a drill sergeant riddled his ears.

Spinning in circles, the man was backing towards a rather precarious looking railing which, if someone had fallen over it, would probably end up facing a very unpleasant, bone-shattering demise. However, something stopped him from taking the plunge. A very vaguely V-shaped creature acted as a sort of barrier, blocking him from falling over the guard rail clumsily and plummeting several stories down. One would expect to reward such a savior with any sort of gratuity, correct? No, Wallace just babbled incoherently at Vual and hunched over, wandering down the hall.

We haven't quite made the environment that clear, have we? Imagine now that Wallace is somewhere on the top floor. He exited from a mysteriously dark, otherwise featureless room, and almost fell to his death. Now, imagine a filthy, sobbing creature hobbling down a dauntingly long hallway leading to a cluster of books containing the wisdom of the ancients. Imagine this filthy, sobbing creature as someone who doesn't tend to enjoy literature.

Wallace continued to explore, or, in his case, meander down this strange new place. As he got further and further, he noticed that there were more and more shelves containing strange, solid oblongs and rectangular cubes. Knocking one over clumsily, he looked down at one of these strange objects. It unfolded, as very thin, leaf-like implements swished and flapped, until the object opened up to reveal strange writings on either of these 'leaves.'

What was on the leaves may frighten you. Well, they wouldn't frighten you, so much as it would Wallace. A text describing the mystical implications of the universe or something profound like that unraveled before him, as the former scholar flew into a rage. "A.. B.. E.. D.. C.. F.. G.. REPEL! ohgodohgodhgohdgohdgod SEVER THE DESIGN!" Clumsily throwing his arm forward, he knocked into several more of these infernal objects, as they all dropped to the floor, some of them severely damaged due to the fact that they were already quite aged.

"More of them.. more of them come for me they hide in places and they won't get me because they already have me but I don't like it," Wallace rambled on to himself. Vual, Beelzebub, and the Hellion cheered him on as he continued to express his hostilities toward the written word. They even joined in on the fun - Beelzebub used a Hidden Power on one of the books, inadvertently soaking it in a damp, hauntingly corrosive, acidic liquid. The book had soon been degraded beyond repair, and could hardly even be identified as such.

Wallace continued to sputter, stammer, and shout as he pushed books off of shelves, rattled bookcases, and peruse to lose. WILL ANYONE STOP THIS TYRANT OF LITERATURE?! Probably not. After all, there couldn't possibly anyone LIVING in this place, could there? No, no way! And it's not likely people decided to explore the place for the mysterious secrets it holds. That'd be ridiculous. Nobody does that. Come on. Geez.

[Admiral Striker General]

In fact, many people were living here in this library... or at least 'people' like Avie. She more or less waltzed down a hallway, quite enjoying this lovely d-what was that sound? As she stopped to listen, head snapping in the direction from which the noise had come, several more distinctive thumps broke through the air. As long as she'd lived here, the Albino Ralts was intimately familiar with the sound of a falling book. So many of said sound rather concerned her.

Teleporting in small blinks, she tried to pinpoint the source of the ruckus. In the meantime, she reached out with her mind in search of the actual human person who lived here. She found him before the noise-maker, but unfortunately he was completely engrossed in something and didn't notice her mental nudge. Exerting herself a bit harder, she screamed, <Van!> Though it was rare for him to use it, she'd found he answered best to that name. <Dammit Van we have a situation here!>

She was getting closer. She could feel it!

... Literally. The powers inherent to her race allowed her to physically feel that there was a sentient being with whom she was unfamiliar nearby... though the specifics of what she felt greatly unnerved her. She couldn't place just what it was or why it felt so wrong, and that only made it worse. <VAN!>

Deeper in the library, a scrappy, middle-aged man jumped suddenly, startled. 'What huh???' It took him just a moment to place the voice and the urgency within it, but after that oblivious moment he was suddenly completely on-edge and dead serious. 'Avie what's wrong?'

<..I don't know,> she admitted before making another blink. Not on this aisle either. <There's someone here and they're making a ruckus. That's all I know.> At his request, she shot him a mental image of what part of the library she was in.

Sighing, Vincent Van Huginn carefully marked his place within an aged tome and placed it gently on the ground next to him. With a small heave, he rose to his full towering height, stretching for just a second as he realized he had to start getting more exercise, then hurried off toward the nearest staircase.

In the meantime, Avie was getting closer... closer.... clo--OH HEY. Something caught her eye just as she teleported, and as soon as she materialized she jumped straight back. There. There was a person and... were those Unown? She wondered if they were his or if they were natives here in the library, but even if talking to Unown didn't mildly creep her out, something else had caught her attention much too fully to bother with that trivial matter at the moment.

<WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?> she screamed telepathically and in PokeSpeak, despite knowing full well that he wasn't likely to hear either. Aloud she yelled, "Ralts, RALTS!" All those lovely books!! D'8