In this community, I spam words.

[nottheproblem]

Who: Ziio, Open
When: 06/13 - Evening
Where: The Academy Library - Or in that area of.
What: By way of a fated book, Ziio arrives in Smash Academy. The lesson that we should all stop reading.
Warning: N/A



What is this.

The pointed question and the most direct one. Also the one that didn't provide an immediate answer. Naturally, the obvious answer was a sanctuary of books - a library. Not that it explained the situation any better. To go from a village in one moment to a library in another. Some would have held a vision responsible, but the imagery too vivid.

And the moment Ziio ran a forefinger over the spine of a book, it was too obviously real. So this was reality. Some sort of reality. An unexplained kind.

The lack of clarification was irritating at best. But if opening a book had been what brought her there, then it seemed logical that opening another - the right one - would take her back to Kanatahséton. Which eventually led to an ever growing pile of books that Ziio had opened and found disappointment in.

In other words, someone was going to have a lot to clean up later.

Comments

[obfuskate]

Shadow was beyond through.

He was tired, aching. Refusing hospital care and sneaking out to do his work was catching up to him. He wasn't in horrible, dangerous shape, to be sure, given his extensive healing abilities, but he was exhausted. He'd been trailing about, yawning and griping, sure to receive side-long stares from his yelling cohort.

He needed to rest immediately. That fact only hit him in his usual trip to the library. It was too much. He hadn't slept in days, not for a wink. He needed to pass out.

It was then that he spotted a nice pile of books.

It wasn't a comfy bedding, but hell, it would do well enough. He was more than willing to take it. In the matter of a minute, Shadow had scaled the mountain of literature and plopped himself on the tippy-top, curling up and not even bothering to greet the woman fuddling around.

...

Wait.

Woman?

His ears prickled. He didn't recognize her. Was she... Indian? She certainly looked to be from olden times. His mind went back to Connor, the one he'd met during the prom, and the dots were immediately connected. They must be related.

He tried his best to stifle a yawn before speaking. "A relative of Connor, I take it?"

He then yawned. Darn it.

[nottheproblem]

Stiffening had been an instinctive reaction. A hand moved to the knife cleverly hidden in her garb, but rather than to immediately withdraw it, her head turned just enough that she might be able to eye who her potential assailant was. An...

Well, she couldn't say he looked like any animal she had ever personally seen. Whatever he was, wasn't in likeness with her either. She moved no further and instead, only wore her suspicion, which she didn't bother to hide.

"Excuse me?" Ziio asked in a way that made it seem less a question and more a demand for clarification on his part. "I'm not what you seem to think I am." For she knew no Connors. Animal or not, he didn't seem to strike her as the sort to place her into immediate danger, and even if he had, she could have held her own. She did earnestly believe that.

Her attentive remained on him, even as she reached for another book and slowly leafed through it. Only, of course, to find it another disappointment.

[obfuskate]

"... Humph," he sounded, making a note to swipe his tongue briefly over a healing scab. "Mmph- you may know him by a different name. Otherwise, I may be mistaken..." He eyed her, dropping his fist from his lips. "... but you do look very similar to him. You bear his features and nationality."

Shadow hated being wrong. He was just going to believe that something wasn't adding up for now. Even so, was it really such a stretch to make an assumption like this? Both were olden day Indians, the only ones he'd seen in this academy at all so far. It was a fine guess to make that they were family.

Maybe being wrong wouldn't have been too bad, in this case. Whatever.

"Who are you?" Might as well break the ice by demanding her purpose here. That was always a good way to start, right? Right.

[nottheproblem]

Ziio tried to think of the number of men she would have known by a 'different' name that resembled her. And she couldn't. It wasn't possible. He must have had her mistaken, or it was merely coincidence. Although if she knew of anything, coincidence didn't seem to be applicable. A greater force at work? Quite possibly. But she'd known nothing like that and had heard very little concerning such.

Not confirming his words - or denying them, for that matter - Ziio seemed more content on not saying anything. Not until she had a point to, which was where her name came into play. A brief moment of thought and considering she doubted she would be lingering for too long, she found no harm in giving him something to call her by.

"Kaniehtí:io," was her very simple reply.

[obfuskate]

That wasn't exactly easy to pronounce, but it wasn't difficult. Chaos knew he'd have trouble spelling it out, though. Thankfully, that was unnecessary now.

"Shadow," he spoke, his own response very curt. "Shadow the Hedgehog." Now she'd know what he was. If Connor was left puzzled, this one would likely not know what he was until now either. That was perfectly fine. After all, he was used to it.

"Do you plan on cleaning this up?" He questioned, eyes drifting to the mass he laid upon. Wait a minute- "Later, of course."

There. That's better.

[jonny_talbain]

"Sodding hell. Librarian is going to adore you."

Here was Jon. He had two books in his arms. From volcanic crater to kelp forest; a visitors guide to Hoenn. and Vaporeon, a vision in blue. As opposed to the many, many piled up books on the floor.

"You're an avid reader, then? Or are you attempting to build some sort of indoor mountain?"

Either way, he had pity on the tiny white haired child who served as Librarian.

[nottheproblem]

A single look over Jon and Ziio was a little stuck on his unkempt hair. Outlandish. But when she compared garb, it was about as obvious as Shadow's address that this was no time of colonists and British separation. With book in hand, she simply stared at him, thought about saying nothing at all, and finally she set her book down.

"No," was her firm response, but as to whether it was meant for only one of his questions remained to be seen.

Her other hand lifted and she motioned curtly, subtly. "Where is this?" Because she had a feeling that Jon was not a spirit animal.

[jonny_talbain]

Well, Jon WAS British. Just many decades removed from her experience with them. And an animal, though, not a spirit yet.

"This is the Library, in a school called Smash Academy, in a City called Final Destination." Jon replied, taking a seat on the ground across from her and crossing his legs. She reminded him of that one lad... what was his name? Conner? That he'd given some small amount of teasing for catching rabbits in the wood out back.

"If you're unsure on details like that, am I to guess you're a new arrival, then?"

[nottheproblem]

None of it was information she particularly wanted to hear. Most of it just conjured up additional questions, and unsure of where to begin, Ziio found it wiser to sit on the thoughts for a little before bringing them up. She could find her own way, anyway. Especially if the library was at all helpful with a non-disappointing book without a similar 'portal.'

"So it would seem." Calmer than how perhaps most might have taken that predicament. She turned from him, her attention back onto books as she reached for another while she continued, "You're used to this." An observation on his part, as he seemed slightly practised with greeting 'new arrivals,' whatever that meant.

Outside

[mohawk_tomahawk]

Nothing.

That was what was going on with Connor.

Well, it was something. But nothing was coming along as he wanted. In an effort to not cause too much trouble in town, Connor found himself in the rooftops avoiding those patrolling soldiers. Martial law, a recipe for disaster. He hated this. All of it. He knew enough about that to see where it was all headed.

This was not the way. Just some man telling lies to everyone saying it was and then getting his way. Control. Suppressing and oppression of the people.

Ah yes. That "C" word.

The circulation of pops had near stopped, which could mean a potential black market. Or a scheme could happen when the people's defenses were down.

So many problems. In a world in which resources were plentiful, Connor still felt like he had none right now.

Purpose. He felt more and more that there was a reason for him being here. Which, oddly enough, had halted his search to return home.

Unless if the people he wanted to protect were safe, his job was never done. No one here he felt were really safe. Yet, also, at his time he felt no one was safe. Not even his own people.

Hrm. Such...weirdness.

He found his way onto campus when he caught Ziio in the corner of his eye. He shot a sharp turn toward her direction, wherever she was/headed.

[nottheproblem]

Jon had not been wrong. There was a lot to take in just leaving the library. A lot of things she didn't understand. A lot of things that a mere look wasn't very helpful in helping her determine what she ought to be doing. Yet she had to keep in mind what she was looking for.

A transit centre. The more helpful of the the two headmasters. And the man who was thought to be of her 'time.' Connor. Just what kind of man was he?

Furrowed eyebrows and when she saw what she was faced with - the buildings, the... monitoring, as it seemed to be, and a mess of unfamiliarity - she had to physically pause and make a new plan. Make priorities. Find out what was most important.

This looks welcoming. A sarcastic thought among many as she took in the sights.

But standing still would not help with anything, so even before she had a plan, she was moving again. She'd find her way around somehow, even if she didn't look like she fit in. Which she didn't.

[mohawk_tomahawk]

Connor was sure it was a trick. It had to have been.

And yet.

Connor just found himself standing there, forgetting not to gawk. He was gawking.

Impossible. This cannot...she...

This wasn't a trick, was it? Was it really not? A thought crawled in his headspace, "If your father? Why not your mother?"

Because, it was his mother. When he thought the place played something so cruel...Why was he so bent on this place being cruel and not the opposite?

Except this also felt cruel. It had been over twenty years. He was but a boy. A small boy. Ripped from her forcefully. Anger for Washington came up. Many fears and sadness...and anger.

He felt like "Ratonhnhaké:ton" again. "Life that was scratched". Wounds appeared on his heart, wounds he never thought he'd feel. That was her figure in the distance. And not a year older than from what he remembered of her. But with his wounds came a statue that was his features. Standing tall and strong, it was what he did.

None of this felt real. Should have been. Even though Haytham was here...it was just...more believable of him than his own dear mother.

How sad was all of this. He couldn't quite come up with it.

For now, he just...stared.

[nottheproblem]

Her attention had not been so much on the roofs of buildings, fortunately for him. At least not yet. All the same, she did turn to get a better look at library that she left behind. Taking a moment to eye the book responsible for her current position, she lifted it to open it once more.

To no avail.

Jon was right again. Whatever help she needed in order to return to Kanatahséton was not going to come out of a book. Was there even a way? Perhaps all of this had been a test that she was meant to overcome. For certainly there was a reason that she was there. Some kind of reason that she just didn't know of yet.

A robot passed her with no rhyme or reason, but obvious intent on wherever it had planned on going. And she simply had no idea what to think of it. Ziio almost addressed it, and thinking it too haste, she refrained. No. Nothing of that sort seemed like it'd be very helpful.

I could see better from somewhere higher up.

So she scouted for a tree to climb, which wasn't difficult to find.

[tacohat]

Through first-hand experience, Haytham knew that death and time did not prevent someone from appearing here. Yet, somehow, the possibility of Ziio of all people appearing here was not one that had occurred to him. The acceptance of never seeing her again was a very old promise, so that he only knew her as a nostalgic memory that he tried not to bring up too often.

He tried to remind himself that this could be Connor's trick again, but the bitter hurt in his heart told him otherwise, even though all he saw was her back. From where he stood he could see differences, the authenticity of her clothing and braids, that small but strong body and set of her shoulders. How could it not be her?

He stood frozen by the old promise, knowing she did not want to see him ever again, would hate him more if he disturbed her. His presence would make it worse, but he was already there, and he had to know if this ghost was alive and how affected she was by her horrific death.

He moved closer with tense steps, into a reasonable range to speak without having to raise his voice.

"Ziio."

He braced himself for her hate.

[nottheproblem]

Connor's words had not alone prepared her for what was likely inevitable. In fact, no amount of preparation could have been enough to appropriately put herself against a man she had wanted to forget. But reality didn't work that way. When she had turned him back, had forbade him from any further contact with her, she had assumed he would honour those words. And he had, mostly. For four years at least. Four years of watching their son grow and thrive. Four years of Ziio wondering just how much of Haytham Connor would inherit.

Four years.

When she heard him, she grew tense. How could she describe her insides? Hot and cold all at once. Like irrational flames that were almost instantaneously extinguished by an icy tide. She wasn't ready. She wouldn't ever be. Yet she didn't have a choice. She had already been warned. It wouldn't have made any difference if she'd tried to go out of her way to avoid him. Eventually they would have crossed paths.

What she held onto was composure. Somehow. In some way. And with it, pain she didn't want to experience again. Did she hate him? ...No. She could have said that she did. Likely would have. But it wouldn't have been that accurate. Not wholly accurate. She felt betrayed by him still. That hurt more. To be deceived. By the man she did hold so dear to her heart.

Her head turned just enough to show that she acknowledged how he addressed her. "It'd seem his words weren't inaccurate." Connor's. Because somewhere inside of her, she'd hope that it was just some type of cruel trickery. Instead, it was a genuinely cruel reality.

[tacohat]

So it was her, then. He didn't know what she meant, but that hardly mattered above that here was a woman that was not even supposed to be alive.

"Wait, Ziio," he plead, holding up a hand, assuming she would want to leave before giving him a chance to speak. "I... I apologize for asking, but please grant me a moment..."

A moment to what? He wasn't even sure. The questions and regret--not so much about what he had done, but that things had ended the way they did--knotted in his throat at the unreal sight of her, more detailed than the memory of her that had degraded by the passing of decades, and lacking the traumatic burns he had imagined would cover her skin.

He had tried to move on from her, and had done so quite well, even when the presence of their son had rekindled musings about a different life they might have shared. It was as simple as having no hope of ever seeing her again. Now that he could see her before him, the long-buried yearning sharpened with frightening acuity.

[nottheproblem]

She didn't want to. Wait, that was. The temptation to scoff and simply take off was grand and she almost did it. She'd proven once already that she could outrun him. He still couldn't match up to her, as far as she was concerned. Still, it was a temptation that she - in her own Ziio fashion - entertained, but didn't execute.

Plenty of time for running later.

But in the back of her mind, she wondered if that was cowardice. Deliberate avoidance of this man who had once held many things of hers. Trust. Love. Joy. Anguish. If any man had seen the different sides to Ziio, it was certainly Haytham - where Connor wasn't concerned. As the present stood, her son likely knew her better in some ways that Haytham didn't.

"What is it that you-" she'd begun as she turned fully. There was a sharp pause when her dark eyes caught onto his face and for many moments, she could only stare. He'd not sounded any different, but by the greying hair, the lines in his face, and even eyes that had seen much, she'd not expected to see... him...

You are not the Haytham I knew.

"-want," Ziio finally managed to get out, minutely annoyed that while her expression seemed as unfeeling as she'd wanted it to be, she wasn't immune to being caught off guard.

[vianca]

"Could you please stop what you are doing."

A tiny voice from a tiny girl that had appeared near Ziio's shelves.

[nottheproblem]

Ziio almost hadn't heard her. Well, she could have said that if she wasn't more observant. When Vianca addressed her, she abruptly paused in the middle of drawing a book from the shelf before her. Instead, she lifted her hands to show she was unarmed, or otherwise, not a threat, because she imagined she didn't look too terribly innocent.

"Yes?" she asked.

[vianca]

Vianca continued to stare at the mysterious woman in that subtly judging way despite the efforts Ziio was making to show she meant no harm. That was just the way she looked at everyone. Someday you might understand, strange woman messing up her shelves.

That was the real problem, actually. Vianca directed the striking red of her eyes to the pile of books that had been discarded without much thought, then flicked them back up to Ziio.

"If you are not going to read them, kindly put the books back on the shelves. Not on the floor."

[nottheproblem]

There was something unappreciative about what appeared to be a child saying any such thing to her. Assumptions were made - likely on both ends - but there seemed to be little point in arguing the matter. She did, however, give Vianca a bit of a lot, the same kind she had often given to Connor when he did something she didn't quite approve of.

Suspicious eyes, in one form or another.

"I'll see that they are replaced," Ziio commented. "It'd appear what I was searching for isn't something that can be found here."

But she wasn't going to apologise. That just wasn't really something she seemed particularly keen on doing, like most conversations that involved some kind of emotional input. Emotion in modesty, if it could be helped.

Hope you don't mind a late guest!

[wassa_matta_you]

Ever since visiting the school's prom and running into the most abnormal sights he ever did see, Desmond felt this life after death was definitely worth further investigation. It was something straight-up out of a Disney movie with talking animals (Only with some adult dialogue, yeesh) and beautiful women, time-traveling men and what he soon realized would be time-traveling women as well...

A library in this place must've held endless realms worth of knowledge, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for or what he expected to discover. Perhaps he could find more information in this next world about the First Civilization and what to expect, but mostly he caught himself wishing for once that Shaun was here to do all this for him. He'd at least be far more enthusiastic. Desmond was just feeling the eye strain already.

He stuck his head through the doors only to quickly dip back upon the sight of movements on the rails overhead. Once it was gone, he snuck in and took to hiding amidst the sea of anchored shelves harboring hundreds of books. Many of the book titles left him bewildered. Snorlax's Dietary Bible (A pretty hefty book), A Test Subject's Guide to Testing (An incredibly thin book)... What kind of school library was this?

In any case, what drew him away from narrowing his eyes at Reincarnation: A Study in Green was the sound of books stomping into the floor, one thud after another. Desmond tailed the sound until he reached its source, creeping around the corner to have his heart uppercutted into his throat.

Is that...?

I NEVER MIND. ♥

[nottheproblem]

Had she noticed Desmond? No. Perhaps not. Not to say she hadn't been paying attention, but rather than anyone else didn't take an immediate priority. First and foremost in Ziio's mind was an attempt to 'undo' whatever it was that had her in a library in the first place. But that had been a series of fruitless attempts on her end. Instead, she formed a fairly small mound of books that grew with each one that joined them.

This isn't working.

What was the next plan of action? She didn't have one. For being a woman who usually had at least two alternate paths to choose from, the circumstances didn't pan out to offer that. Not yet, anyway. She knew briefly what she had caught through the books, which was hardly useful. She didn't know what a 'Pokémon' was, or if it was a place. She was entirely unaware of what difference electromagnetism made in the world.

What piled up behind her was nothing short of a foreign language.

A deep breath to collect herself and she lifted her left hand and leaned onto it against the now empty shelf in front of her. Just until she could come up with a different plan.

[wassa_matta_you]

Desmond was completely mesmerized by the woman in front of him. The last time he saw Ziio... Well, he felt it. Maybe not on the same level as Connor had, but it had been more than enough.

It was in absolute disbelief did he feel the need to step around and come closer, just to be sure he was seeing someone real, but the sudden waterfall of literature hitting the ground before him had other plans.

"Shi- " He came to a sudden pause as the spine of a book smacked into his toe. He winced at the pain, which melded into the same reaction from making noise and giving himself away. If she were an illusion, no big deal, but after seeing Haytham and Connor here? He doubted it.

He looked up at her again. Welp.

[nottheproblem]

She was quick to turn, the motions crisp and sharp, and for many moments she simply stared at Desmond. From a first look she hadn't noticed anything. Not blatantly, anyway. Aside from him evidently sneaking up on her and paying the consequence for just such a thought process. Or perhaps he'd just been an unfortunate victim.

She eyed the books and then looked back to him, "Do you need something?"

Because chances were if he was looking for a specific book, she could probably tell him if she'd seen it or not. Most likely, anyway.