strangetrip | [GP / EP] Welcome to the Madonna Inn Expanded Public Library

Freedom from her bonds had given Illyana more than freedom of movement. It had returned to her the use of her magik and her ability to teleport. These abilities had, in turn, allowed her to finish making ready the library for public use. It was less about collecting books and media from around the premises (and some from Limbo, or donated collections harvested from the Otherworlds) and arranging shelving and seating, most of which had been relatively easily done. It was more a matter of laying the appropriate wards, and negotiating the finer points of the old-fashioned catalog and check-out system, which included odd donated items such as sporting equipment and electronic devices available for rental. Xavin's espresso machine counter necessitated a mini-bar refrigerator, glass-domed cake stands for assorted pastries brought in from the kitchen, and various cafe sundries.

Repurposed from what had been the 'Garden Room,' the library space with its high wooden ceilings, chandeliers, and landscape murals over busy floral carpet still looked somewhat like a touristy banquet hall, yet the area was now also highly saturated with layered magic. The hodgepodge collection of random books and so on were fiercely protected by these magics. When needed and as possible, worn volumes had been restored. The books could not be damaged nor marred from here on out, at least not by coffee spills nor page-tearing or inconsiderate attempts at margin notation. Nor would they leave the boundaries of the library area without proper dispensation, simply stopping mid-air and dropping should the attempt be made at the threshold. Ask at the Desk for Assistance With These Items, prompted the signs on several glass display cases featuring certain perhaps unsettling curiosities within - books in arcane languages, skulls from indeterminate creatures, and artifacts such as a green glowing cube suspended on a chain. At said desk, a gleaming service bell sat waiting, should the staff be needed and not clearly present.

Illyana finished affixing the large engraved plaque to the wall beside the double-doors, and then returned to attend the newly opened library with little fanfare:

Madonna Inn Expanded Public Library

Established ~01.25.2018 Earthly Gregorian Calendar

Open All Hours

Volunteer Staff on Duty as Schedules Allow

Classes & Tutoring for Most Subjects Available Upon Request

Donations Encouraged

Disruptive Patrons Will Be Zealously Evicted

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sam nodded. "That was why I started studying magic with Henry when he was here." He frowned at the realization that Illyana and Henry hadn't overlapped. "My grandfather. But we didn't get much past some initial enchantments and blood sigils."

Sam had told her in brief about his occupation as a hunter of the supernatural on his Earth, up to and including demonkind. He'd hardly encountered a wide spectrum of demons, but he'd said enough that she believed he had faced such creatures.

"Was your grandfather a hunter as well?" She turned back to look at him with some interest. Magic hadn't been a weapon Sam had often taken to hand in his occupation, as she'd understood it. Common charms and circles, perhaps, but not magic in earnest.

"Not the one who was here." Somehow that seemed more ironic than it should. "He was something else. A scholar of the supernatural." He could recite the words that Henry had used, but somehow Illyana didn't seem like the sort of person who'd find them interesting. She'd probably think they were pretentious, and Sam wouldn't have disagreed, even if they were also true.

"A more passive manner of study, then." While the comment wasn't exactly scathing, it was hardly supportive either. Once upon a time, she might have thought better of those that chose to study what skulked in the black uncertainties of the unknown from a distance, saving themselves from direct confrontation with their subjects. It was more likely to afford one a longer life, and of better quality. But what purpose did that knowledge serve unless put to use?

"Did you ever consider following in his footsteps?"

"I didn't know his footsteps existed until I met him here." Hands still in his pockets, Sam shrugged his heavy shoulders. "Long story shorter, my dad thought he ran out on him and his mom, but he actually time-traveled and then died without coming back. My dad never talked about him and he didn't know anything about what he was. It's actually my mom's dad who was a hunter, but I didn't know that either."

Sam scowled, tongue rolling behind his teeth. "Not that short, I guess. My mom died when I was six months old. My dad never knew about the hunting until that happened. But when it did, he raised both me and Dean to be hunters to get revenge on the thing that killed Mom. Henry was the one who told me that Mom came from a family of hunters.

"But I guess...I've never really wanted to kill anyone just because they're supernatural. So Henry's footsteps are kind of appealing."

Illyana took the fact that he was quite civilly interacting with a demon-mage as proof enough of that.

"Scholarly study is well and good. But if all you're doing when bodies accumulate for reasons you could personally prevent is updating the tallies, you're worse than useless. I for one would rather know how to kill the preternatural creature lunging for my throat than hide behind a desk and hope that it goes away."

"Yeah." That much seemed self-evident. Sam might be a scholar at heart, but if anyone thought he'd stand by and watch innocent people get hurt, they hadn't paid attention when he said hello.

"I'm glad I know how to kill the things that go bump in the night. I just don't like hunters' tendency to bump them off before they do any harm. I guess I'm somewhere between Henry and my Dad. More of an enforcer than a hunter."

"And what rule would you be enforcing?" She glanced at him sideways, a tug of amusement at the corner of her lips. "'Play nice, all of you, or the large man will spank you?'"

Sam smirked at that suggestion, less awkward than he might have been, if it had been a more deliberate innuendo. "Don't kill and you won't be killed. It has the advantage of working whether I'm talking to humans or non-humans."

She thought that it ended up being more or less the same, supposing that Sam intended to enforce that rule. It was an unfortunately reactionary approach, but even she understood well enough that if the residents began trying to kill one another in earnest, their tiny community might easily slide into chaos.

"Mn. Let's try it."

He rolled one shoulder in a shrug of negation. "You're too smart to hurt anyone here even if you were inclined to do it." And whatever she was or wasn't, he'd known Kitty a year. She wouldn't have unshackled Illyana if she'd run willy-nilly murdering people.

She let a moment of silence pass.

"I wouldn't hurt anyone without justification," she agreed as if letting him in on a secret.

"Neither would I." Sam smiled his acknowledgment that they were the same in important ways. "And since I've been here a year without any provocation, we're probably not going to have to worry about it soon."

She didn't quite smile, but her expression did thaw somewhat. It almost made her look human.

"I've been waiting for something to happen," she admitted. "An attack, an obvious threat or manipulation of some kind. A more serious conflict between captives, if nothing else." In a strange way, she thought the relative silence had made her more tense, more touchy, rather than less.

"I felt like that for the first six months at least," Sam offered empathetically, but without any of the sympathy or expression of 'you'll get past that' superiority that he was positive Illyana would react badly to.

"I still treat every new thing like it's a possible precursor to an attack, but day to day, I've started to pay more attention to internal threats, like people losing their shit over being confined." That she was a possible threat was both obvious and went without saying.

"Someone that would allow themselves to become an internal threat sounds to me like a short-sighted and weak-willed person," she offered dryly, reading his silent implications. "There's some pithy advice they give prisoners, perhaps you've heard it. 'You have to do the time, or the time does you.'"

It was an acknowledgment, of a sort. That she should know better than to let paranoia set in.

Sam nodded and didn't ask who'd given her the advice and when. One of the things he liked best about the Inn was that people from the fringes could get a second chance, and people who'd been hurt in their own worlds for what they were could get a chance to heal. Kitty had been here a long time and she clearly loved Illyana. She could tell her story in her own time.

"Maybe we should have it printed on the hand towels."

[GP / EP] Welcome to the Madonna Inn Expanded Public Library

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Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

Re: Illyana Rasputin - OTA

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