Monotone Incarnate [Zelda]

This gets old. There are not enough bookies in this school. Not like there used to be. The Librarians still haven't caught on to me tipping over their coffees. Or always pushing out that jerk World Britannica 12. It really needs to calm down. But no use griping. I mean I could like destroy it. But then the Librarians would go on a rampage. Maybe I'll be noticed!

Bah. What's the use? I mean. They doesn't seem like they'd be much fun. I don't know what they'd want though. Coffee maybe? They want endless coffee. I'm calling it. That settles it, I will not be noticed by them. Soon enough, l will make it out of this book prison. But by different hands than one of those bats. Maybe.

Sure do wish I could drink coffee.

::ey ikr. I like to think that he'd smoke enough to bring bob marley back::


I swear, I'm the only one who gets excited about people walking into here. I remember when the Librarians got excited about these things. But this one has gotten close to my little corner quite a few times, without taking notice. Then again these damn encyclopedias do make me and the rest of this corner look boring.

But wait, what is this? Will she... Oh gOd she's picking up the book, I wasn't prepared for this. I wish I had hands, my hair is a mess. Ugh. End Log

As she opened the book, Book End got over himself and began giggling, for this part honestly was worth all the waiting. To start off, he had the word 'Hello' appear on the the blank page that she had opened to. He wasn't going to reveal himself yet, no, he was going to milk this.

Giddy with joy, he began plotting out his next move. Among many other plays this book had seen, one trick was foolproof. Honesty. However, maybe it was time to stray from the playbook, time to fully immerse himself in the process of being noticed.

Upon the next page, he posed a simple question, meant to ensure that she kept turning his pages.

'Do you wish to play a Game?'

If he had physical knuckles, he would've cracked them. Perhaps his improv skills were getting better. Who knew? Nonetheless, it was time to put his metaphorical nose to the grindstone.

'The game is simple, and the rewards are plentiful. Boundless knowledge, power that knows no end, travel to other worlds, endless coffee, you get the point. All you need to do is sign on the next page. I'm sure you have questions, all of which will be answered. Just sign...'

He turned the page. And laughed to himeslf.

'Here.'

As she signed, he prepared his final move, a coup de grâce of sorts. After the final penstroke, other, older signatures began writing themselves haphazardly about the page. Hundreds upon thousands of red letters, which began to coalesce into three words.

"It Is Done"

On the page adjacent to that, he began writing out, what exactly she had signed up for.

'By signing this, Ms. Winters, you have agreed to keep this book in your possession at all times. Whether this be in a bag, with your hands, or from a lead, as long as this book is in your possession, the benefits of the book will apply. However, failure to do so will lead into something far less...pleasurable to the senses. You are to value this book's wellbeing over your own, for if the book is hurt, I am hurt, and I will make sure the favor is returned.

Now that we have all of the unpleasantries out of the way, we can get to your prizes.

First,the promised answers! Ask away, Ms. Winters. I'm at your disposal. We'll pick up with the rest after out Q&A session.'

::you are all good haha, work has kept me busy::

Benedict was growing tired of writing his every word; as such, he decided now would be a good time to oust himself. Perhaps this was bad timing, but he wasn't the type for precision nowadays.

He willed to become visible, and the characters from the signatures began to form a face. His face. His lips felt chapped, and his piercings tigged a tad, but they always did, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Rules of the Self-Manifesting Road and such.

Book End began speaking, loudly, because it's honestly been a long time since he had manifested. "What? What? It seems I had forgotten how rude the youth of late have grown. The proper word is who, Ms. Winters. It is 'Ms.', correct? Can I call you Zelda, Wielder?" Instead of waiting for a response, he kept chugging along. "Zelda, I am merely a friend. A friend who lost a friend, and was trapped here by an angry codger. And yes, I really can do what I say I can, Afterall, how many other talking books are out there? Rhetorical question. Anywho, I never really answered your inital question. You may call me whatever you please, but I tend to go by Book End, Benedict, and ln rare occasions, Gene."

::haha sorry for he wait, things got a little hectic::

She seemed to be taking all of this considerably well. While not being the reaction he was originally shooting for, perhaps it was for the best. Someone who would be a tad harder to break, or who maybe, just maybe could deal with all of his shenanigans. A reality check.

But not as he saw it, no sir. He saw it as a challenge. He decided he was going to break her. Eventually.

His train of thought had been interrupted via her question. She was asking him for advice. Truthfully, he hadn't thought this far ahead. But his improv was getting better, or so he thought.

"Well, if you don't have any more questions or concerns, then voice your wishes! I can make anything a reality. And after that!..."

His agenda was clear for a while. "I guess you just go on with life. And you live. This is crucial. I can prevent many things, but death is not one of them."

::it seems timeliness isn't really my bag rn haha:

She seemed dissatisfied with unlimited power. And Benedict was offended. The world was now hers for the taking, and she wants more?

He prepared a counter, when he considered that, perhaps, what she seeks is more than something physical, that she sought after something that brought satisfaction. And turns out he needed a few things done.

"Fine. If it is stipulations you want, then stipulations you shall receive. You have already signed yourself to me, so I don't see why we can't alter a blank contract, eh?"

He winked at Zelda and willed a trapdoor to form a few feet in front of them.

"Onward, squire!"

"Perfect! Your ability to walk short distances is sure to be the bane of all in our path!" He inhaled overdramatically, the marble walls of home welcoming them with their mustiness. "Smell that? That fantastic smell is the smell of potential, squire!"

Benedict was probably far more excited about the marble covered room than most would allot as 'healthy.' There wasn't much to see in the room, seeing as the door had disappeared, the furnishings were minimal, and the only picture was not even a picture, but a mirror.

"Welcome to the Order of the End, squire. This is the Order's main base of operations, as well as your home for the next few months, as you advance your way to being my knight. You have just been inducted and, yes, this is what you signed up for." He was thoroughly pleased with his performance, regardless of the haphazard nature he had been exhibiting.

::my email sucks sometimes haha sorry::

He chuckled and tutted at his protege. "All in good time. Until then, you shall train. Relentlessly. Mentally. The fight I need fought requires wit and moxie, as any brawny dolt could try and do what is required, however, they would fail miserably. We're going to train you. And when it is time to go, You can go. And execute my wishes, Squire. Which will happen upon your knighthood." Satisfied with his explanation, he decided that now was a good time to begin training. He willed for the room to make a door. On the ceiling.

"If you really wish to leave, the way out is there. Otherwise, training begins through the door to your left." And as he promised, a door manifested itself.

"I'm not often this generous. Consider yourself lucky. If you don't wish to fight for my name, then the way out is up. We'll find somehing less exciting to do. I'll be nothing but a tool. Or you could fight for something real, fight for the Order. Fight for me and all before you. It is time to choose, Squire."