central_librarylogs | The 9th Hour... (Phase 1: Sept-Oct Event)

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The 9th Hour... (Phase 1: Sept-Oct Event)

The cold presence is seeping in through the dark shadows. The darkness is reaching further, brushing the minds of the patrons and opening doors to dimensions that should not be open. Something wants in. But in the Central Library, there are ways to get through without crossing entirely… through your dreams. Among other things.

Pick one of the options below and make a post for other patrons to join you in the events. You may make up your own, but keep it matching the event at hand as the different phases of the event will progressively get worse.

1. Your dreams are getting dangerous, violent even. When you wake up, there are bruises and injuries that shouldn’t be there. What is going on? Why are your dreams becoming a reality little by little? And why is it getting so hard to wake up?

2. Things are shifting in the Library. The shadows are moving and the temperatures are starting to drop. There are cold spots that sometimes get colder and sometimes it feels like if you turn around, you’ll find someone right behind you.

3. The monsters are looking a bit more frantic and daring to come closer to the center of the Library where they normally will not tread. It seems you aren’t the only ones scared of the dark recesses any longer.

4. The Market is now a lovely little faire of the early Renaissance with all sorts of fresh grain, fruits and vegetables! It is a brilliant sight, but it seems the ominous plague masks they don still gives a foreboding feeling of the miasma that killed over two-thirds of the world’s population… Perhaps you shouldn’t wander very far.

5. New areas are now opened up. A blacksmith and workshop for the tinkers has been created. You might want to look or contribute... You might also want to stop in the new bath area. The large pool has a Grecian feel and all of the walls are made of crystalline glass where the stars are always shining with a different universe in constant succession.

6. Wild Card: Make up your own scenario. Just remember that all of the things above are happening. Things are getting foreboding and growing stronger by the day. Sleep will be a luxury you might not have… You may not see what’s coming, not yet. But you know it’s coming.

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Bucky... not the Asset. Not anymore. He was mentally picking up on what Rogers had called him, Bucky. Bucky was not much of a sleeper anyhow. He'd done too much of that off and on for decades and if he could manage with naps here and there, he would. His naps however were restless and he felt like figures were standing in the shadows of his mind, so he didn't really bother to sleep much. Not right yet.

Instead he patrolled round the edge of the center of the Library, deciding he wanted to take care of some things, clean up monster problems, if they were there to deal with. The normal things.

Only, he hadn't gotten very far when he had to stop, turning to look around behind him. It felt as someone just passed there. A figure or something. Like they were coming out of his dreams and into reality.

His eye twitched as something came to mind. memory perhaps? Figures standing over him. At first he thought it was the cold storage chamber, which he remembered much better now, and he didn't want to. He thought it might have been medical things, doctors, the chair. That dreaded chair.

But this was different. His memory was simple. A look up at the sky, a figure leaning over him. A hand offered down to him. Someone offering him a lift up. Bucky stood still a moment, confused, thinking, trying to grab the memory and keep it. There had to be something there. No... it wasn't a hand offered down to him, but a fight coming down on him. at that moment his hands balled up, ready to fight.

He turned, looking around this section of the library, hearing something snicker as it ran past. Not a shadowy figure this time. His eyes stayed sharp as he tried to recall the memory still. His arm came up, blocking the hits. A blond kid came diving into the fight, scrawny but angry looking. Rogers? ... Steve.

He grunted, turning around in annoyance. He swore something was standing behind him, but there was nothing there. The figure wasn't hovering over him anymore. the boy was scrambling to get to his feet, to take chase. Bucky... he stood swiftly, throwing an arm around the smaller kid and hauling him back. Bucky remembered he yelled something at the retreating kids back, and told... told the scrawny kids off for something. He told him... told him...

Damn. Turning he pulled one of his knives and flung it, hitting a short monster like figure in the chest. A goblin, maybe? He'd ran into a lot of them before, but they were never this close to the center of the library.

"What the hell is going on..." He said as he yanked the knife out of the fictional monster. It would be gone by tomorrow. Where there more of the little ankle biters? He felt like figures were hovering around him.

The fact that it was at least fifteen degrees colder in this spot didn't even hit him. Not yet at least. He noticed it but it didn't really hit him yet.

It wasn't easy to get time alone. Steve made sure to keep an eye on his team and then there was everything with Tony. There was someone always around, something that after feeling isolated after the ice, Steve appreciated but sometimes he needed to go out alone. He usually said he was going out patrolling or to scout new areas of the Library but most of the time it was to try to make himself available if Bucky wanted to talk to him.

Most of the time he wanted to search for his friend, but he knew that while Bucky was still piecing together his memories, pushing wouldn't work. Bucky had to decide how to deal with what had happened and with what parts of the past he remembered.

As he entered the area, he caught familiar movement... and something else. Two small figures. Staring at them, Steve tried to understand what he saw. The taller one looked just like... "Bucky?"

The figures disappeared and he saw Bucky - one the correct age - throw the knife. Pulling his shield from its harness, Steve jogged over to Bucky, scanning the area for more of the monsters. Then the cold hit him, causing him to shudder. "Did you just see... us?"

He heard his name, causing him to turn to the sound, eyes narrowed and waiting to see what else was going to sneak around him. He wasn't liking what was going on, and it didn't quite make sense to him.

But instead he saw the wide shouldered blond jogging over to him as he looked through the area. Bucky slide the knife back into it's place, frowning sternly at the other. See... us?

That was all in his head though, wasn't it? A memory. A full memory, for a change, and not one that jumped around a lot. Him in a fight, because of the smaller blond kid. Him having to stop the kid. Calling him something. Wasn't that all in his head? Something had triggered a memory, was all, was it?

He looked unsure, rubbing his flesh hand over the back of his neck. "Not sure if I saw it, but... I think I got hit with another memory." He's talking. Talking and not clamming up on the man. It's a good start, right?

There didn't seem to be variations of their childhood selves or any other creatures nearby but Steve couldn't really relax. He'd seen something that should have been impossible. But it had been part of their childhood. He recognized the boy who had always defended him while he was growing up and the skinny blond had to be Steve.

"I thought I saw us when we were kids. You holding me back like you always did." He couldn't help grinning at that. Bucky had always had to grab him by the scruff of the neck and drag him away so he didn't get into more trouble. "I told you that you were always protecting me back then."

Pausing, he turned a slow circle, checking for more of the creatures while still thinking of the past. "I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. I was always defending someone's honor or standing up to the bullies in our neighborhood. They probably would've killed me if you hadn't been there to watch my back."

He stood there, staring at Steve like he was unsure. Had he really seen all that? It was in his head, he was sure of that. He saw the MEMORIES in his HEAD, and a figure... and a monster... in reality. Didn't he?

He frowned sharply at this, glaring off around the room. It was cold enough for a moment to see his breath, and that was also weird. He started to step away from the cold spot, and closer to the blond as he spoke about their childhood.

Things that Bucky was starting to see. To remember. Small things that fell into line.

"Was that something I remembered, or was that something we saw and I think I remembered." because if it was just an illusion or something in the hall way here, then maybe it wasn't an actual memory. "Someone was swinging to hit me, then this small blond kid came flying in to tackle the guy." His eyes squinted a bit as he stares at Rogers. His former target.

"Feels like something I was there for..." But if it was an illusion that Rogers could see too, then perhaps it wasn't real.

He couldn't imagine what this was like for Bucky. Memories coming back slowly after decades of torture and death. Then whatever was happening dragging those memories to the surface so he doubted what was real...

But it was real. Steve had seen it too and there was no reason for him to add that context to the figures unless there was something to trigger the memory.

"I think it was both." He tried to ignore the cold but it seemed to creep closer, biting at his face, almost making him shudder. A few years out of the ice and it still bothered him. It had to be worse for Buck. "I think you remembered it and somehow it ended up in here."

When he noticed the look Bucky gave him, Steve grinned. "So skinny that the wind could've knocked him over? Probably wheezing while he tried to take on guys three times his size? That's what I was like before the serum."

He wasn't sure how much of that Bucky knew. His handlers might have told him some of the details but it was probably more the enhancements that the serum gave him than what Steve had been like before. "I grew almost a foot taller when they gave me the serum. I was tiny back then. And I did throw myself into fights to protect you even if you ended up having to save me most of the time."

The cold was something he was used to. He hated it. It didn't help with the memories that it DID bring up, but he was trying not to think on those. Those he had a lot of. Those he had mostly in tact. Or at least enough to know he hated it all.

He moved a bit, noticing the cold too and not really wanting to hang around in it. "How is that possible?" Dumb question. Really dumb question. Everything seemed possible in this place, but remembering a memory and it becoming real was... not normal. Was it?

It was a bit frustrating, to say the least. These things were missing but they should at least stay in his head. He looked annoyed, for the most part, but not AT Rogers, so that was something at least.

Hearing how the guy was before the serum, he just side eyed him a bit. 'I remember you a lot smaller.' he thought, and wondered why he thought that at all. "If that was you, I have the feeling you didn't have to protect me so much." He started to move, walking backwards to keep an eye on Rogers and to say he wasn't done talking to him, but he didn't want to stay there with a dead goblin on the floor and a cold spot that was bothering him. He was sure he saw a dark figure too.

"I remember... some of it. I think."

"How is it possible that we're in a Library that spans worlds that's run by a guy that looks like the Grim Reaper and a talking cat?" It wasn't really that weird. The whole "aliens are trying to take over the world" thing had reset Steve's measure of weird. 'Impossible' was just a word now. "I think in a place like this, anything can happen. Everyone's having strange dreams. Maybe the Library picked up one of yours and found a way to project it."

If that was true, at least it had been a dream about them as kids instead of horrors in Bucky's subconscious.

The comment about not needing to protect Bucky had Steve giving his friend a faux innocent look. "I was like those little dogs that don't know they're little. I thought I was the size of a St. Bernard when I was really a teacup poodle."

Keeping an eye on their surroundings, he wondered how exactly he should guard against something that came out of the mind. Did that mean it could manifest anywhere? "I can tell you if what you remember is right."

He didn't like the idea of projecting dreams. Not at all. That actually made him scowl as he thought about it. Time to not sleep. For DAYS. Because it would not be SAFE for others if he dreamed and it all came to life. It should be clear to Steve that his mind went right there. That if this is projected onto this world, if anything in HIS head could harm others, he'd be really upset.

"I don't like it." He said bluntly, glancing around now like the entire place offended him. "The things inside my head aren't... they can't be brought out." He's a monster. What if that showed?

He stepped further away from where they were at, but still walking enough to keep an eye on Rogers. He can come hunting with him, if he wanted.

"Meanwhile I was that stray mutt that adopted the small dumb dog as his own, huh. That's how that happened, isn't it?" How... did they meet. He's not even sure or positive, but he's curious. "Why... do I know you? Explain that."

"I don't either. You're not the only one here with things in their head that shouldn't be in the Library." He didn't think that Bucky was a monster. What had been done was monstrous but it wasn't who Bucky fault or who he was. "I doubt we want to see what's in Bruce's head. Or Natasha's. Or someone who's lived for centuries." Or his own but his dreams were more ice and water than actual monsters.

As Steve followed, he considered some kind of warning to the other patrons or maybe contacting them to see what kind of things might show up if dreams were coming to life. At least then they'd have an idea of what might come after them.

"Yeah, you were. I was getting beaten up by a gang of kids. You ran them off before things got too bad." The fight hadn't been the worst he'd gotten into back then but the possibility had been there since Steve refused to back down. "I was small and skinny." It wasn't something he'd normally say but it might be a term that Bucky would understand better. "Prey. A lot of the time I got in trouble because I didn't know when to keep my mouth shut or run away. But other times the kids in the neighborhood wanted to hunt down and beat on a kid that they didn't think could fight back."

Eventually they might have killed him if Bucky hadn't been there to watch his back or to teach him how to fight. "You didn't think it was right that they kept hitting me. If I could stand up to them, then you should to. We were inseparable after that. Maybe you remember me because for years the only thing we had was each other."

Natasha wasn't one to sit on heels and wait for long. Something was going on here, and she was determined to figure out what it was. She rounded the corner, senses sharp, catching the knife before it hit her. She stared at the man in front of her.

"Easy there Cowboy. Didn't mommy ever tell you not to throw knives?" She asked. "Are you bringing on the deep freeze or am I?"

And there it was. He almost hit someone else instead of what he thought was there. The figures were starting to get to him. One moment he thought it was something following him the next it was the red headed woman standing there holding his knife.

He knew she was here.

He had seen her around several times now.

He was avoiding her as well as he had tried to avoid Rogers. This one though, there were faint memories of red and her in his mind. He wasn't sure on her at all.

He stepped forward, flesh hand held out, eyes scowling a bit, as if asking for his knife back. "I am not as cold as you might think I am. No, this is not me." He's feeling the freeze again and he doesn't like it.

Natasha held the knife as she watched him. She looked down at his hand, and the back up at his face. "You know you're not there anymore.... that room was destroyed... maybe not in reality but in Natasha's mind. Still not soon enough for her liking.

"How much do you remember?"

Ward wanders.

It's mostly waiting for Kara, but the former head of HYDRA has left their snug little nest. anything to distract him from the throbbing of his wrists and the memories that seem to nip at his heels. He twists, turns - unaware of the shadows following him, lurking, pulling at his heels before they resolve themselves into -

Children.

A pair of them, small children with all black eyes that shift into goblins themselves before they hold hands - and keep walking behind him.

He knows they're following him. He just doesn't know what to do about it or how.

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The 9th Hour... (Phase 1: Sept-Oct Event)

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