#Still Life – The Library | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

okayto · 24 days

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I'm in a reference class right now and I just get so irrationally angry about the requirements.

Like, obviously, the purpose of the class is to make sure all the theoretically-future (or sometimes current) librarians know how to actually look things up AND verify sources AND in a wide variety of subjects and topics. Yes, good, valuable, important.

BUT I hate it so much. I hate questions that sound like they came from an alien whose best human impression comes from old chatbots: "Who is Zora Neale Hurston? What is she known for? Does Sparkle Library have any of her books?" why are you asking the first two questions if you clearly know them enough to ask the third "What's this geologic feature I saw in town? What's its history? Where is it?" can I point you to Google Maps please "What is the meaning of the word fandom?" why am I required to find you four verified resources on a dictionary definition "Can you help me find articles about this topic" yes but our professor hasn't actually given us examples of how they'd 'verify' articles so IDK if this will work even though it's literally exactly how I'd do this in my actual library job where I provide reference services to college students.

#maybe it's that the prof wants things formatted in what feels like an unnatural way to me #like sorry if I cite Best Ref Websites 2003 to someone IRL I think that'd sound Dubious even if the site is still good 21 yrs later y'know?#I don't even know if I think there's a better way to teach this--I just hate the formality of it all #it feels so unnatural even though it's a valuable skill/knowledge #I'm currently signed up for the advanced reference class next and I think I'm gonna get my advisor to change my plan #because I will explode with another semester of this #library school #grad school #I am trying very hard not to assume I know things just because I already provide reference services #(especially since my job usually keeps to a fairly narrow type of reference)#but it's difficult when it feels like the alternative is 'Reference Provided by Exactly Zero Real Life People Ever'

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zeravmeta · 3 months

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i can never bring myself to do nuzlockes not because of the challenge nor even because of like the attachment to your pokemon (though that does apply) but mainly because I specced entirely into the monster catching aspect of pokemon so im a terrible collector who cant *not* catch and fill out my pokedex no matter what

and like as someone who loves romhacks specifically this ends up shooting me in the foot because most romhacks are actually well designed and good compared to the average pokemon game meaning all the pokemon are available so im tossing balls for 1000+ creatures at this point per hack and to try and remedy this I try to play a lot of fakemon hacks (also bc i really love em) and even then a significant majority of the time the devs are considerate and go "hey lets add all the normal pokemon in too give them a little walking around money" so. yeah.

#AND i still havent even finished my games library lol #in another life i would have been a great thief. or packrat

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williamalex75 · 8 months

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#loneliest #books & libraries #long reads #coding #developer #programmer #programmer humor #programming #python #software #click for better quality #quotes #still life #life lessons #half life #life is strange #daily life

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virtuallyinsane · 11 months

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Photo by Anna Zakharova

#books #brown #flowers #reading #still life #nature #table #library #f

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swampthingking · 3 months

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the thought of cracking the spine of a book makes kevin nauseous. he like opens it just enough to see the words and holds the book at such uncomfortable angles to read— anything to keep the book pristine and intact. he does not let people borrow his books because he is a control freak (as a term of endearment) and does not trust them to take care of them the way he does.

and andrew is the complete opposite, cracking the spine as soon as he opens it. he annotates in pen. he dog ears the pages because who the fuck has time to find a bookmark. he throws books out of anger. he throws them at aaron for fun. he lets them get smashed and torn in his bag. he always keeps them, he just prefers them to look like they’ve been read.

#someone asks kevin what he’s reading and he doesn’t say the name he just explains the ENTIRE plot of whatever historical thing it is #then is like oh….it’s [book] by [author]….#someone asks to borrow a book from him and he’s like “i’m sure the library has it”#andrew probably reads horror and sci fi #he probably fucks with stephen king heavy #i refuse to believe andrew “eidetic memory” minyard is “aLLeRgiC tO boOkS”#have you heard him speak… so poetic for what #i fucking know he’s read shakespeare. he hated it but he read it #imagining andrew as a child in foster care escaping in fantasy worlds to get away from his real life is doing something. bad. to me #kevin reads historical fiction and nonfiction #my baby has a special interest and i will do nothing but respect that #“kevin how often do you think about the roman empire”#“…every time i turn on the faucet… why…?”#and when they stare blankly at him he goes on a RANT about roman acqueducts and how they were #“—LITERALLY REVOLUTIONARY WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT??? we would not have running water THINK ABOUT THAT for ONE SECOND”#neil josten doesn’t read. he can’t sit still long enough to #aftg #kevin day #andrew minyard #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc

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binah-beloved · 12 days

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Birbna going through a molt... Maybe she'd let you help her with pin feathers. You ought to be very careful - they hurt when disturbed. But if you open the pins gently, you can free the stuck feathers and soothe the pain. Brushing Birbna's wings with a soft hairbrush, only to find out later that many birds only trust their mates to preen them anywhere but the head.

she tries not to let you see, not to force you to bear witness to this... mess. Binah knows she's hideous now, a warped beast of feathers and eyes and claws. you shouldn't have to deal with this. it's her burden to bear, her punishment

but alas, you're perceptive, as you always were, following the scattered feathers to where she's tucked herself away, hunched over and scratching erratically at her skin. she stiffens when you approach, then slowly slumps and extends one of her wings at your gentle request, trembling when you begin to carefully run your fingers through the feathers

you use the utmost care as you straighten bent feathers and remove loose ones, Binah leaning more and more of her weight on you until she abruptly sweeps her wings around you for a close hug. you're so gentle with her, so sweet and delicate despite how she's a monster now. or, more of a monster than she was. her claws run through her feathers, plucking a particularly glossy one with an iridescent sheen and pressing it into your hands. you'll keep it, won't you? to show that you're hers, and she's yours?

#project moon #lobotomy corp #library of ruina #binah #binah lobcorp #binah library of ruina #birbna is love birbna is life #big distorted bird lady needs love too #it'd be sweet if she eventually partially undistorted #binah with feathers in her hair and a feathered cloak #little feather patches and talon-like hands #but she can still give you her familiar smile #oh what if distorted binah learned to speak #that'd be nice

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greentrickster · 1 month

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Me going into this weekend: Well, it's time for the local anime convention, the one that I've been preparing for since December and worked super hard so I'd have lots of mage plushies in the store I sell them at downtown, all ready for excited anime fans to buy them!

This weekend: Protesters gridlock downtown on Saturday (aka, the Busy Day, aka the Profitable Day) because they can't handle the concept of a drag queen doing story time for kids at the library, someone escalates this to a very effective bomb threat that's fortunately fake but still forces local shops to close and the reading to be cancelled for the sake of safety, it pours rain, and is the coldest weekend we've had all month to boot. All the shops and the downtown farmer's market that brought in extra stock and produce in preparation for what is traditionally a very profitable weekend for local businesses due to exploring convention members are left in the lurch.

Me, now: (lying in my bed trying to console myself with humour) ...this did not go according to keikaku.*

*keikaku means plan

#my life #tw bomb #tw bomb mention #this weekend was supposed to hopefully net me the equivalent of a couple months of profit #instead two mages sold on Friday and I don't think anyone from con really went to the store the other two days #frustrated tears; I worked SO HARD to make sure there was plenty of stock for this weekend specifically #and extra sympathy for the farmers' market vendors who brought in extra food for the lunchtime crowd #which didn't come because cold wet weather + conservative protestors #also this wasn't some little phone-in bomb scare #a package was found at the library. a bomb squad with a dog was called in #the dog reacted to it in a 'we need to treat this as a threat' manner #and there was also a letter going 'yeah... this is ONE of the ones I've placed around downtown'#it was fortunately a fake out but it was still highly effective #and my parents got to learn all this after I was already downtown and there wasn't a good way to immediately retrieve me #it was Not a Good Day

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ehlnofay · 7 months

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Efri thinks she’s found the library.

“Woah,” she says, letting the door swing shut behind her. (Loudly. The doors here are so heavy.) Her voice echoes off the stone walls. She feels like she’s stepped into some story, like an exaggerated version of what a mage’s college would be.

It’s not that she’s never heard of a library before or anything. She understands them, conceptually. But the most books she’s ever seen at once was the small set of shelves in Rorik’s manor, and even that blew her away the first time – all the pretty bindings and close-written words. This is –

The College library is something else. It’s a lot bigger than a set of shelves.

Winding, narrow hallways bend and squiggle around like a set of earthworms trying to squish together to make a solid shape with no gaps, and every single wall is lined with books. Each shelf is like a rainbow of covers and colours. Half the spines are thick as at least two fingers put together and written over with words she can’t read. Efri has to bring Sissel here. She’d lose her mind.

“Woah,” she says again, and steps further in to look at the books on the shelves. All the bindings in blacks and blues and browns. One has the title written down the spine in gold lettering that shines. She brings up a hand to touch it.

“What are you doing?” someone demands. Efri stops. She looks.

It’s a grumpy-looking orc man in a bright yellow tunic, glaring at her much fiercer than seems necessary for the crime of looking at books in a library. He looks like he might be old – his hair’s white enough that his beard’s the same colour as his sharp sticking-out teeth, and he’s wrinkly. Efri wrinkles her nose and tells him, “I’m looking at the books.”

“Wash your hands first,” he barks, turning his much-too-angry glare on Efri’s hovering arms. “You look like the sort of person to have grubby fingers.”

It’s true, but Efri is offended anyway. She wipes her palms hard against her orange wool skirt. (The skirt is grey at the hem from playing in dirty snow. It does not make her any cleaner.)

“Who’re you?” she asks the rude man. “I haven’t met you yet.”

He does not stop scowling. Maybe he’s perpetually angry. Maybe he just has an unfortunate face. But he says, “I’m the Arcaeneum archivist. Urag gro-Shub.”

The Arcaeneum, that’s what the library’s called. Very fancy name. (Sissel will love it. And has Kazari been here yet? They might like it too. She’s pretty sure they can read, though probably not these fiddly little paper books.) “What’s an archivist?”

“I maintain the library.” The archivist Urag gro-Shub might be grumpy and not very nice but at least he didn’t do the thing where he sighed all annoyed at Efri’s question. “I choose when and to whom the books are lent, and I ensure they are not damaged. Hundreds of years have gone into assembling this collection, and it’s going to stay pristine.”

“Is that book hundreds of years old?” Efri asks, pointing to the showy tome with the writing in gold.

Urag barely glances at it, dark eyes flashing in the vague direction of her pointing finger and flashing back again. “No. That’s historical fiction written in 185. That copy was made within these last ten years.”

“You didn’t even look at it,” Efri says.

“Bejewelled Tragedy. Four hundred pages. Horrendously inaccurate. Frankly, it wasn’t worth acquiring in the first place. Feel free to look for yourself.”

Efri will take his word for it.

“This section is for the books that are up for purchase,” he tells her, gesturing. “The worthwhile ones – and the old ones, if those are what you’re looking for – are further in.”

Efri squints down the passages again, their bright lights and cosy winding walls. She can’t tell where this section ends and the next one starts. She feels like if she went any further into the library she’d get lost. She says, “Thanks. I’m Efri, by the way.”

“I know. You’re that kid who showed up.”

“One of,” Efri corrects.

Urag keeps talking, rolling right past like he didn’t hear her. “Don’t know why in the name of all that’s been called holy they let you in. You’d think this would be a step too far, even –” he huffs and snaps his jaw shut, tusks digging into his moustache. He says, “At any rate. You’re here now, and you’re subject to the same rules as everyone else. You treat these books as careful as if they were your own firstborn children, understand? And if there’s something you want to find – or especially take out of the Arcaeneum – you come talk to me.”

Efri nods obediently. What time would it be right now? The lecture Sissel went to was almost two hours, and it’s definitely only been about one. She asks, “Are there any books with pictures?”

She’s not sure if it’s just the shape of his mouth or if he’s sneering. Urag says, “That depends. Are you going to respect the books enough to try to read the words too?”

“That depends,” Efri retorts, nettled. (She gets that he’s protective of the collection, but there’s no need to be rude about it.) “Are your books going to teach me how to read?”

Urag stares.

“You can’t read,” he replies, sounding vaguely offended, as though she, at six years of age, had refused to attend the village school for the express purpose of spiting him four years later.

Efri pulls a book out of the shelf without looking at it, ignoring the way he huffs. There’s nothing embossed on the spine or the cover, but there’s a title scribbled on the first page. “That’s a B,” she says, pointing to the first letter of the first word, and then stops, squinting. Switches her focus to a different word. “That one says off.”

“Of,” Urag corrects over her shoulder.

Efri shrugs. She snaps the book shut and slips it back into its place on the shelf. “I can read a bit,” she says. “I know my letters and that. The books here are just big.”

And given that she’d failed to correctly identify of, even small stories might be a bit beyond her skill level.

Urag is quiet. Efri looks back at him, mostly expecting him to still be looking affronted, as though she’d stolen food out of his mouth and thrown it at a wall – instead he looks oddly, blankly thoughtful.

“We don’t have anything suitable for early readers,” he says, tapping his fingers against his leg. “That might be an oversight.”

Efri really doesn’t think it is. “It’s a big fancy library, right? I think it’s normal to just collect the big fancy books.” All the ones that are hundreds of years old, or about magic or important things, or both.

Urag’s knuckles rap against a buckle on his belt. He says, “No! First misconception. A worthwhile collection archives all the work on its focus possible. The Arcaeneum is a collection of knowledge in every form. Therefore, we have as many books as we can access, on all sorts of topics. Half of them aren’t even good!”

“You sell the bad ones,” Efri says, trying to follow.

“Some of them. If they’re wholly without merit. Mostly I sell duplicates. Or works no-one has ever used. There’s things to be learned from everything – if not now, later. I’ll think on it.”

He looks back at Efri, looking a bit like he might have forgot she was there. “Regardless. Do you need anything, or can I get back to work?”

He’s still all rude and prickly. Efri bristles a bit. “I wasn’t keeping you,” she says, flicking her eyes again over the strange and wandering walls.

Urag sighs again like he’s got any right to be annoyed with her, but then he asks, “Would you like a tour of the Arcaeneum?”

“Do you want to give it?”

“You’ve already distracted me,” he says. Adds less irritably, “And I enjoy a chance to show off the collection. Long as you don’t interrupt me.”

“I’m going to interrupt you,” Efri informs him. She doesn’t like to be told what to do.

She lets him show her the library.

#I need to post more of efri in winterhold... it's sooo much fun #I'm slowly making my way through the story still. figuring out mzulft rn #this piece I wrote a while ago but I like it #urag is going I cannot BELIEVE we don't have any early reader books. this is a grave archival oversight!!#and efri is going ok man.#(he is very earnest about this. he wants the arcaeneum to have Everything in it. the idea that it doesn't is not to be borne)#after this scene ends efri is appropriately impressed by the library contents #and urag makes her a shitty little booklet made of stitched-together scrap paper to help her learn to read #(man cannot interact with children for the life of him but he is very invested in literacy)#oc tag #efri #the elder scrolls #skyrim #tes #tesblr #fay writes #my writing #urag gro shub #college of winterhold #arcaeneum #microfic

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