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 Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2012 1:23 pm
The library is simultaneously spacious and cramped. The shelves are a little too close to each other, but there is a wide open space down the center with large tables kept far apart. The cheap carpet, steel furniture, and fluorescent light make the place feel a little like an office. At the back is a small computer lab accessible via a door between two study cubicles, though the internet access is tracked and seems a bit incomplete. Check-out is monitored by sensors in the door which read prisoner collars and chips in the books to keep track of who and what is where.
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Posted: Mon Dec 03, 2012 7:50 am
This dusty old storeroom of books had gone unused for so long that the pages shed tears from their lack of contact with the eyes to read their words. A lone man sat in that dark corner of the room, content with his lone eyes gazing over stories of old that these books spun. So long ago many things were unlike today, all accumulating and evolving into the world that is known by everyone.
Gresh flipped the page to another list of words which told of this worlds past. He didn't notice how this place filled with books was empty; though, he preferred it. His mind ignored the world as it was, letting him enjoy what could easily be his last day to live.
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Posted: Mon Dec 17, 2012 9:22 pm
Blue pushed the library door open and stopped, letting the sensor read his collar. If it didn't get a clear signal, it would beep incessantly until a warden verified who he was and turned it off. It had happened to him a few times - especially when he had someone hooked around his neck.
The machinery whirred, and he moved on as soon as it finished. He wasn't much for reading, but putting a book in front of his face was a good way to get the tiny terror to be quiet and sit still for a few minutes. He whistled softly to himself - he wasn't very good at it, and it was rather thin and wispy, but he had the damn carousel song stuck in his head, and it just wouldn't go away. He turned down an aisle, then again at the end, and saw another man sitting at a table in the corner, reading.
"Pardon, I didn't know there was anyone in here... there never is. Sorry to disturb you," he said, bobbing his head down politely. He turned away and faced the shelf of books popular with other inmates. Maybe he could find something to give Vitto, while he was here. He wasn't sure if she could even read, but on the off chance she could...
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 3:08 am
Gresh looked from his almanac of days long since past, an exert of the works written by Benjamin Franklin, Original. If nothing else, this prison had no lack in any aspect of their resources, sad that no one truly utilized them all. Still, now he was looking at another who found this secluded place as a refuge to the world they now shared. He didn't respond at first, instead popping a small candy in his mouth, bitter to the taste, something he found satisfying.
Shortly, after the person had not left him alone, he looked up again with a cocked brow. "What do you want.." he said with more statement the question, wondering why his sanctuary was broken.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 1:55 pm
Blue answered before he even really thought about it.
"A book for a prostitute who I'm not even sure can read."
It clicked in his mind how absurd that sounded and he turned to the other prisoner halfway through his statement, before his companion could react. To Blue, he looked... not really rude, not really disgusted, not really surprised. Somewhere in there, though, was his expression. He'd undoubtedly have to explain.
"She's very nice, but it's hard to get her to give me quiet. It's even harder to sit down and enjoy a novel while she's using my head as a drum or a chair or whatever else. Do you maybe know where the art books are?" Blue asked politely. He winced a touch at how condescending he sounded about Santi, but it was true. He'd never seen her read anything, and she always asked what signs said. The latter might just be a side effect of her being so very small, but he couldn't be certain. And she really did sit on him and play with his books when he tried to read.
Besides, she'd like Picasso.
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Posted: Thu Apr 25, 2013 3:58 pm
Gresh Folded the book in his hand and placed it back on the shelf, his face taking that of a man greatly irritated by trivial acts of another. He already didn't enjoy his company, short as their meeting may have been, leaving him with only the reaction to stand and turn away. As he made to leave, his finger pointed to the opposite side of the library, the only response he planned on sharing with this bother. Gresh wanted to be alone again, making to leave the library in hopes to find another place to be alone.
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