==== October 4, 2013
==== Yulena, Nora
====Just when you thought the Library was safe from the weirdness, Yulena finds something scrawled in a book.

Who Yulena, Nora
What The Library is no sanctuary from the weird happenings…
When One Turn and 21 days until the 12th Pass
Where Archive Library

Yulena3.bmp Nora3.jpg


Archive Library
There's a skybroom tree in here. It's surprising. There is also a stage, and this room has been cleaned and tidied; it's an interesting space to be sure.

It's been some time now since the assistant headwoman gathered up candidates to discover a wall of bones in the stores. That wasn't how it was supposed to go - they were just supposed to make room to keep the old books that have been weathering away here in the library. It was supposed to be a relatively simple and straightforward step in an otherwise long and more complex endeavor. But all of that has been somewhat delayed and complicated now. And so it's almost wistfully that, on this hot summer afternoon, with humid air pouring in through the hole in the ceiling and overcast skies creating dull, flat light, that Nora occupied a rickety chair, chin propped on her hand and elbow on the table, musing over the space before her. There's work in front of her too, and the table is rather neatly stacked with dozens of old decrepit books, but none of those things seem to have much of her attention.

You know the really easy way to stop finding bones in places? To stop poking around in strange places. Yulena is relatively sure the Library has no bones to pick with her, so she's making her way in through the door and making her way over to Nora. "Candidate Yulena, coming to help," since writing menus lends one to tidy script. A quick look at the pile of books before the Assistant Headwoman, and she asks, "Can I take some of those for you?" So very helpful. Look, she even brought her own writing instruments, evident as Yules waves them around in an imitation of writing, "Like this?" Just in case there's another way to copy down old decrepit books.

That's far too simple a solution! And nevermind that it's Nora's nature to poke without fear. But whatever she's pondering now, it isn't difficult for Yulena to rouse the headwoman from her reverie. Nora draws in a breath that straightens her from her propped leaning, spreads a wide smile on her delicate face and has her hands flatting over the open page before her. "Yulena," she greets, the delayed exhale to come a beat later. "Certainly, any you like. Take them all!" she jokes, rising from her chair to deal with the record-keeping and organization of having the old books copied into new — she does have a stack beside her of empty tomes, ready to be filled with whatever can be deciphered on those ratty old pages. "Some of them have been half-started," she mentions. "Before people discovered what tedious work it is." Her mouth presses into a frown and a thoughtful glance skims over Yulena, just in case such a murmuring is enough to scare off her latest helper.

Since taking them all might lead to breaking of backs, Yulena eyes the stack of old books cautiously and picks up a fair number of them, piling an empty tome on top. Tedious is for those who don't know the word 'tedium'… or something like that: Yulena just snorts, "I'm sure they're also the ones who try to get out of dish-duty too." Of course, you exchange food bits for dust, grossed-out expressions for sneezing, and the noise of the kitchen for the quiet of a Library with this job, but Yulena's already taking her stack one desk over, settling down and cracking - well, not quite - the first old book open, along with her fresh book. It's one of those half-done books, that was sitting atop its fresh version, so Yules starts there. First page. Scribble. Second page. Scribble, enunciating of a few terms under her breath. Scribble. And so on.

Nora, herself, is not at the task of transcribing, and though she does have a moment or two when a start of her breath might signify some urge to strike up small talk, with the former cook so diligent and productive, she thinks better of interrupting her and instead continues about her own work — with the flipping of pages and the reorganization of lists and the satisfied crossing off of this and that with the flourished strike of her pen. She manages not to take too much time to stare speculatively at that reaching skybroom, though now and then, as she puzzles through some issue, her eyes do take a spare tour of the space, and just as often, a blank check on Yulena as she tries to sort out words that have been worn away by time, and potentially misspelled in the first place. "Someday, we'll have tea and klah in here," Nora says out of nowhere, with a determined nod of her chin. Probably because she could use a mug right now.

Whatever Nora's up to is not distracting to Yulena so much, being deeply entrenched in the transcribing of old documents. She's rolling right along, seeing the end of this book coming up, and there's a sigh of relief. Nora does use the magic word though, and Yules looks up, "You mean, like a little drink bar or something?" Because klah? Always appropriate, "That'd be a great idea." So great, the ex-cook is kicking herself for not thinking of it. Oh well. A flip of the page, and Yulena starts tracing one finger lightly over the words, getting the idea of this page… and then her finger slows. And stops. "Miss Nora? Um, would you come… er, confirm this?" Nope, that's not strangled panic and worry in her tone at all. In the least.

"A little cart or something," Nora confirms, face turned just aside, to where she might envision such a cart could stand, but eyes cut back to Yulena and a smile slowly curving on her mouth to watch the magic word do its work. "Muffins and biscuits and perhaps… whatever the kitchen might like to experiment with." She tips her head, as though the idea is hardly expected to be interesting, but there's another quick peek at the former cook, ready for a reaction. That doesn't come. Must be one interesting book! So she presses on with more: "Once we have everything cleaned up, that is. It can be a kind of… open-air readin-" Her mouth purses as Yulena interrupts, sorry to ramble on when someone here is doing actual work. Plus, there's that odd edge in the candidate's voice. And so up she gets to swing around the table and lean in to see what it is that's so concerning. "This part in the margin?" she wonders with a crease between her brows.

Yulena starts to slowly recite the quote, just in case she's imagining things: "It's happening again. Thread is falling and everyone is returning different than normal. It's like something's happening out there, something's affecting their mind. Just the other day, two blueriders got into it … so much rage. I feel myself… I feel so much hatred… and all I can think about is… blood… my mind. I don't know what's happening… some people lie down and die, never moving, never breathing. Some people fly into a rage… but it always starts with every Fall we fly… like something's in the air. The red star… is slowly killing us…" What the sharding shells? A wide-eyed look up to Nora, part surprise and part excitement, "I mean, who writes things like that into margins?" And doesn't cite his references, thank you very much!

Yulena's recitation, with the uncertainty in her voice, is its own unnerving addition to the words Nora reads on the page. Leaned as she is with a hand on the table to hover over the candidate's shoulder, now her finger rub rather anxious at the weathered wood. "That is…" Slowly she straightens up, drawing back into her own space, eyes on the book anyway. "Do you think it's… real? Maybe it's just someone's idea of a joke." She's not convinced of that guess, even as it leaves her mouth. "And what does that mean? Returning different than normal?" Does she look around now as if there might be someone immediate to turn to with this information? Yes, yes she does.

Who writes such terrible things? Nora's suggestion gets a slow shake of Yulena's head, "It's a pretty awful joke," she says seriously. It didn't even start with 'knock knock'. "The Thread made them different? Or something around Thread?" The Candidate-cook seriously ponders this, reading the passage again, "Hatred… I've heard of mental sicknesses that can cause rages like that… but not affecting a whole population." Thoughtful-face is on, "But a drug? Mass poisoning?" Yulena flips through the next few pages, but nothing else jumps out at her. Or appears to be written in the book. "What about the other books? And wouldn't the old Weyrwoman write something about this? Or, or, the old Headwoman?" Yulena's clearly unhelpful for causing a panic.

"I mean, I'd understand fighting can change a person but that's not quite… how it sounds." So Nora chews at the inside of her mouth while the words roll around and around. "But this could… it could be from before left." If 'left' is the word. "Like, right before," as opposed to obviously not being from after they left. "And just laying down and not breathing?" That doesn't quite sound like mental illness, either. "He says 'their' mind. But was this person a rider too?" She can't tell and it deepens that furrow on her brow. "We should take this to the Weyrleaders. And the healers." And maybe now when she tears her eyes from the book to look around the ruined space of the archives, it's not the lovely open-air reading space of the future that she's seeing. Held at her stomach, her hands flex in a slow, uneven rhythm, wound together. And then she takes a deep breath again to try to shake off that eerie feeling. "This place…" She forces out a weak laugh and a smile to match.

Oh, the possibilities just keep rolling around, and Yulena nods emphatically, "Definitely the Weyrleader, and…" pause, "The Weyrwoman too, right?" Because sooner or later, Lendai will have to be involved. And then, like a jigsaw puzzle piece clicking into place, Yulena ponders "I wonder if this has anything to do with the glove that I found on the Sands." That was a fun discovery. On top of all the other body parts found. "This place is just what we make of it," Yulena says suddenly, as if reciting from rote, "At least the klah hasn't spoiled." Well, if klah spoiled, that is. "Whatever happened was long, long ago." No Zombie Nightmare today, thanks!

"Yes," Nora confirms. "Weyrleaderss." She hits the plural a little harder this time. Though maybe to refer to them that way is more of an oldtimer thing. Meanwhile, she lifts herself in a stretch of her spine, easing the residual tension out of her back, letting her weight sway over her heeled shows with a swing of her skirt about her legs: everything is still just as it should be. She's just stepping around the table to reclaim her chair when she pauses again. "You found a glove?" But it's not wariness in her voice, just curiosity, eager to collect the pieces. "I… wait, that was you? You found the…" A brow cocks, waiting for Yulena to fill in the gaps of rumor with actual fact.

Oh! Uh, yes. Ahem. "Yeah, them. Sorry." Yulena's brain was too busy catching up on dead-body detail. The end of Yulena's stylus taps her chin in thought, only to get pulled out of it by Nora's question. And possibly the last person in the Weyr who didn't know, now knows: "Uh, yeah. Found it while I was cleaning the Sands after Talicanitath's clutch." And then Yulena's warming to her subject, "And the body in the kitchen flue, too." Huh, wonder if anyone's warned the new cook about this… "There was a note there too, but Hannah took it with her." Teh sads. Or at least, disappointed from the moue-face Yulena pulls.

Nora was a little late in joining the party, and later still in getting herself caught up on all the gossip. Plus, there's that whole thing where it's all just stories until a wall of bones is rolling toward your pretty shoes and then the game has a tendency to feel a good deal more serious. "Not like a recent body, right? You mean a skeleton? Though… I'm not sure there's ever a good excuse for stuffing a human being inside a flue." She just blinks hard and shakes her head, returning to her chair not to sit but to set her knee to it while she gathers up her papers. "Is it always you who finds these things?" she has to ask, a laugh under her words and a smirk slide across the table to Yulena. "You didn't get to see the note?"

Yulena was here ALL party long; she probably set up the beverages. "Ya know, I can't tell. If it wasn't fresh, it was really preserved." Like, pickled. But ew. "I still don't know why it was there," though answers would be REALLLY GREAT AROUND NOW. Yulena puts down her stylus and faces Nora full on, with a story to tell, "And it took forever to finish cleaning the flue out." And really, that's what's important here. The idea that disaster follows her? Hardly, "No, I wasn't there for the room with the bodies in it…" A little look of muscle strain as Yulena tries to remember, "I… No, I think I saw a bit of the note… Said something about 'mind sickness'." And then Yulena shrugs, "I dunno about you, but I haven't felt sick, or outraged since I found there was too much butter in the dinner rolls." Faranth forfend!

'Preserved.' Nora makes a face, the corners of her mouth pulled back and down, while her hands deftly go about the sorting and condensing of her spread-about work. "Do flues…" She stops herself before actually asking if there's something about flues that keeps a dead body fresh. And really, maybe she doesn't want to know. "So fresh. And unidentified. And… yes, I'd imagine even after it was clean, you'd want to go over it again. And maybe again. And then yourself, in good measure." She settles her things to her hip, held in the crook of one arm, and then let's Yulena's comment give her another moment's pause, head tipped aside just so. "I haven't felt sick either. Or angry. Though now I'm hesitant to say that I'm not sure the extra butter has gone over too poorly. But then, I haven't taken the inventory yet, so we'll see." There's a sly promise in her smile that she leaves unexplained, a teasing arch of one eyebrow. As her weight shifts, she adds, "Don't misplace that book, hm?" And then she eyes the rest, the stacks waiting to be picked through. Whatever thoughts she has about them, she keeps to herself.

If the question is 'do flues preserve bodies', the answer is Yulena shaking her head, "Dunno." Certainly not the preserves method she'd use - jars are much more sanitary. "I went over that thing with steel wool. Though… Um, D'gert did the actual inside cleaning. While I watched," from outside like a nervous wreck. The comment about the rolls gets a little huff from the ex-cook-who-knows-way-better. People just don't know what's good for them; just you wait until their arteries start clogging! "Um," Yulena looks down at the little note again, "Should I write it in just as it is?" Saaaay, any chance she can get a klah break for mental hardship here? "And, um, I could go get some klah after… Make the work hours pass more quickly?"

"He was your assistant," Nora recalls uncertainly. "The one you were so sad to lose?" Perhaps she can see why, under the circumstances. People who handle dead bodies for you must deserve a flood of gratitude. As for the copying. "I'm… not sure." The twist of her mouth pairs with a moment of consideration. Her gaze draws to the book again. "I could take it to the leaders, if you'd rather not. But, no, I wouldn't continue copying that one. Someone needs to see it; that seems like it should be the priority." Her steps drift closer, in case Yulena does want to hand it off. "You could work on another instead. After a break, of course." She might be rather persistent herself, and known to reward hardwork, but the assistant headwoman has yet to get a reputation for being a relentless taskmaster. "Finish one off and I'll see you get a free day?" she tacks on with a smile.

Yulena sighs a little, "Yeah… D'gert was wonderful. A great assistant." Lost in thought for a moment, Yulena just hears the comment about the Weyrleaders: "Um… if you don't mind, I'd rather not." Q'fex, she can handle. Lendai has a bad habit of appropriating large amounts of this candidate's time, "I'm sure the Weyrwoman would respond much better to you," bringing her bad news, of course. HAHAH. "Um. A break would be lovely." Slowly rising from her chair, Yulena mentions, "I'll bring back enough klah for a while," Since those tomes don't seem to care about 'time' or 'schedule', and the promise of a free day gets a tug of lips into a full grin, "That would be… greatly appreciated." Wherein Yulena will subvert ALL attempts to butter the dinner rolls beyond satiation but for right now, there's klah on the way as Yulena skirts around her desk (in pants) and heads out on a quest. A very important quest. Herrings need not apply.

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