Paper books. Seeing them isn't the shock it had been when Scout first joined at fourteen, fresh from a galaxy where hardly anyone does paper books anymore and any hard copies of writing are on things less prone to disintegration in water. She's been to several paper libraries since then, and in fact her clearest Portland memories not involving other carnival workers are of spending time in the libraries in that world.
This is still an awful lot of them, and there's that smell she got to know in Portland, that dusty sour note that comes with old books. All this paper absorbs sound and makes quarters seem close, even when there's plenty of space around her. Coupled with the organization system or lack therof, it's enough that while Scout is not daunted by research or being surrounded by writing, she can't help wishing they'd just get what they're after and leave.
"If this is a recipe," she says out loud, slowly, flicking rapidly through something, "then why are there this many pages about someone's relationship with their husband?"
mace it up
A hot wind scented with ozone and metal blows through and Scout raises her head sharply, glances at whoever's nearby. "Hey, we need to get... oh."
Right after the wind came a sweeping cut, the shelves and books smoothly sliding away to be replaced by a tawny plain surrounded by rolling dun hills, under a cloudy gray sky. White-armored men and top-heavy gray humanoid robots are blasting away at each other on two sides, close enough to make out individuals.
Nothing looks quite real. Edges are too crisp and defined, proportions aren't right, the ground is a flat texture, smoke is red and curls in stylized patterns, and of course there are unlimited battle droids which are so fragile that a shove is enough to destroy one. They explode or go to pieces dramatically, but a stricken trooper just falls. In the distance, a tall bald black man with a purple lightsaber is performing battlefield acrobatics.
"Come on," Scout says, edgy, her eyes flicking from droid to trooper to Jedi and then to the horizon and a small red shape on it, then back to the droids and troopers. "I think this is Dantooine, we don't want to be part of this battle."
Scout | OTA
Paper books. Seeing them isn't the shock it had been when Scout first joined at fourteen, fresh from a galaxy where hardly anyone does paper books anymore and any hard copies of writing are on things less prone to disintegration in water. She's been to several paper libraries since then, and in fact her clearest Portland memories not involving other carnival workers are of spending time in the libraries in that world.
This is still an awful lot of them, and there's that smell she got to know in Portland, that dusty sour note that comes with old books. All this paper absorbs sound and makes quarters seem close, even when there's plenty of space around her. Coupled with the organization system or lack therof, it's enough that while Scout is not daunted by research or being surrounded by writing, she can't help wishing they'd just get what they're after and leave.
"If this is a recipe," she says out loud, slowly, flicking rapidly through something, "then why are there this many pages about someone's relationship with their husband?"
mace it up
A hot wind scented with ozone and metal blows through and Scout raises her head sharply, glances at whoever's nearby. "Hey, we need to get... oh."
Right after the wind came a sweeping cut, the shelves and books smoothly sliding away to be replaced by a tawny plain surrounded by rolling dun hills, under a cloudy gray sky. White-armored men and top-heavy gray humanoid robots are blasting away at each other on two sides, close enough to make out individuals.
Nothing looks quite real. Edges are too crisp and defined, proportions aren't right, the ground is a flat texture, smoke is red and curls in stylized patterns, and of course there are unlimited battle droids which are so fragile that a shove is enough to destroy one. They explode or go to pieces dramatically, but a stricken trooper just falls. In the distance, a tall bald black man with a purple lightsaber is performing battlefield acrobatics.
"Come on," Scout says, edgy, her eyes flicking from droid to trooper to Jedi and then to the horizon and a small red shape on it, then back to the droids and troopers. "I think this is Dantooine, we don't want to be part of this battle."