Post by Wreck on Nov 21, 2010 17:07:29 GMT 1
Paper. Trees chopped down grinded up and reformed into a more user friendly substance. Thin and easy to write on, store information, bind and hide away. Paper was the foundation of many civilizations, and sometimes what could bring them down. Keeping so much information in one place, a simple fire could destroy it all.
Some say the pen is mightier than the sword, but it is the paper one truly needs. They need it for the ink, so it can form words, so it can be transported, preserved. Art, literature, magazines, and comic books. Without paper, they'd still be using stone and chisels.
Emmett laughed at the thought of a grown man in this day sitting down with a stone slab on his desk, a chisel on one hand and a hammer in the other. Seemed like something right out of a movie. That's not what he was here for though; he was trying o find a book. Of course one may think that's painfully obvious what he's trying to do, there aren't many reasons why one would come to a library, but this book was special. This book would keep him from killing himself because of how bored he was; the life of an unseated officer was unpleasant to say the least.
Lacking the seniority to have any say in decisions or be useful, much of his time was spent doing nothing except drawing maps of the Seireitei in his spare time, wondering why it was shaped the way it was, wondering why large sections of the walls were unguarded, while some sections had towers standing right next to them. For one who was so good at Strategy games, trying to find their reasoning for making such areas so exposed was a mystery. Maybe that's what he'd do here, he'd find out why the hell they designed it the way it is.
The walls of paper bound together with various materials were daunting though. The shelves reached up to the ceiling and Emmett had to strain his neck to look up that far. He knew he'd be spending the rest of the day there though, and he had no intention of going back to the squad house for quite some time, because unless they needed him for some ridiculously menial task, they wouldn't even know he's gone; if they even knew he was there in the first place.
Emmett took hold of a ladder once he reached a section of a library that seemed to be devoted to history. The ladder rolled easily on it's greased wheels that sat on the ground, and that were locked into place at the top of the bookshelf. He rolled up the black Shihakusho sleevesand made sure his sword was securily fastened to his back.
He had to stop ever few rungs to straiten his sword again. The black shirasaya sliding easily on the silky cloth. Emmett should have left it at the barracks, infact he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to have his sword around with him anyway unless they were in wartime, which would probably never happen.
As he continued his ascent up to the top of the shelves he wondered when the seireitei was ever last at war. From there, his thoughts branched out into a web of possibilites and questions, strecthing back all the way to when and why the seireitei was created, and even further back to what it was like before that.
His eyes caught a glance of the spine of a book with the word kido on it, and he continued to think , wondering where the kido had come from, and who chose the numbering for them. He blinked a few times when he noticed he had stopped moving and was just thinking instencely on why everything was the way it was. He didn't even realize he was staring right at a history book.
C'mon Emmett, pay attention'
He told himself as he pulled the book from the shelf. It was quite heavy and it looked more like a tome than a regular book, but that's the way history books should be: filled with history. Even the cover felt old. Emmett ran his fingers lightly over the cracked and wrinkled leather front and felt the dust that was gathering on the top edges of the pages. as he turned it open, the spine cracked from spending to long closed. Emmett started to wonder when the book had been put at the top of this shelf, but he stopped himself before his mind could wander off into another realm of possibilities.
Lowering himself back down to safety, if one could truly feel safe underneath tons of paper that could simply tip over and crush them, he shifted his zanpakuto once again before returning to the isle that ran inbetwen the towering shelves. The carpet, intricately woven with images Emmett couldn't fully make out the last times he had been their, were now ignored by him, and only loved by his straw sandals.
He took a seat at a table, far from anyone who was in the library. Few. were in the Library though, as usual. Shinigami not in the 12th division were... well Emmett would say moronic, but he settled for uninterested in books. He didn't doubt their reading abilities, or their inteligence, but it seemed like none of them cared about anything except fighting and killing.
'Muscle brained morons.'
Of course, simply settling on a word incase anyone asked wasn't good enough in his head. As he reopened the book to the first page, he wondered what it would have been like in squad 12. None of them were ever in the library, so he wondered if they had a library of their own. If they did, that would be cool, but he was quite sure he would never use it. This paper sea seemed lonely, and it needed people like him to be around.
His mind was flowing off again. He snapped himself back to his book, and began reading alone in silence.
Some say the pen is mightier than the sword, but it is the paper one truly needs. They need it for the ink, so it can form words, so it can be transported, preserved. Art, literature, magazines, and comic books. Without paper, they'd still be using stone and chisels.
Emmett laughed at the thought of a grown man in this day sitting down with a stone slab on his desk, a chisel on one hand and a hammer in the other. Seemed like something right out of a movie. That's not what he was here for though; he was trying o find a book. Of course one may think that's painfully obvious what he's trying to do, there aren't many reasons why one would come to a library, but this book was special. This book would keep him from killing himself because of how bored he was; the life of an unseated officer was unpleasant to say the least.
Lacking the seniority to have any say in decisions or be useful, much of his time was spent doing nothing except drawing maps of the Seireitei in his spare time, wondering why it was shaped the way it was, wondering why large sections of the walls were unguarded, while some sections had towers standing right next to them. For one who was so good at Strategy games, trying to find their reasoning for making such areas so exposed was a mystery. Maybe that's what he'd do here, he'd find out why the hell they designed it the way it is.
The walls of paper bound together with various materials were daunting though. The shelves reached up to the ceiling and Emmett had to strain his neck to look up that far. He knew he'd be spending the rest of the day there though, and he had no intention of going back to the squad house for quite some time, because unless they needed him for some ridiculously menial task, they wouldn't even know he's gone; if they even knew he was there in the first place.
Emmett took hold of a ladder once he reached a section of a library that seemed to be devoted to history. The ladder rolled easily on it's greased wheels that sat on the ground, and that were locked into place at the top of the bookshelf. He rolled up the black Shihakusho sleevesand made sure his sword was securily fastened to his back.
He had to stop ever few rungs to straiten his sword again. The black shirasaya sliding easily on the silky cloth. Emmett should have left it at the barracks, infact he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to have his sword around with him anyway unless they were in wartime, which would probably never happen.
As he continued his ascent up to the top of the shelves he wondered when the seireitei was ever last at war. From there, his thoughts branched out into a web of possibilites and questions, strecthing back all the way to when and why the seireitei was created, and even further back to what it was like before that.
His eyes caught a glance of the spine of a book with the word kido on it, and he continued to think , wondering where the kido had come from, and who chose the numbering for them. He blinked a few times when he noticed he had stopped moving and was just thinking instencely on why everything was the way it was. He didn't even realize he was staring right at a history book.
C'mon Emmett, pay attention'
He told himself as he pulled the book from the shelf. It was quite heavy and it looked more like a tome than a regular book, but that's the way history books should be: filled with history. Even the cover felt old. Emmett ran his fingers lightly over the cracked and wrinkled leather front and felt the dust that was gathering on the top edges of the pages. as he turned it open, the spine cracked from spending to long closed. Emmett started to wonder when the book had been put at the top of this shelf, but he stopped himself before his mind could wander off into another realm of possibilities.
Lowering himself back down to safety, if one could truly feel safe underneath tons of paper that could simply tip over and crush them, he shifted his zanpakuto once again before returning to the isle that ran inbetwen the towering shelves. The carpet, intricately woven with images Emmett couldn't fully make out the last times he had been their, were now ignored by him, and only loved by his straw sandals.
He took a seat at a table, far from anyone who was in the library. Few. were in the Library though, as usual. Shinigami not in the 12th division were... well Emmett would say moronic, but he settled for uninterested in books. He didn't doubt their reading abilities, or their inteligence, but it seemed like none of them cared about anything except fighting and killing.
'Muscle brained morons.'
Of course, simply settling on a word incase anyone asked wasn't good enough in his head. As he reopened the book to the first page, he wondered what it would have been like in squad 12. None of them were ever in the library, so he wondered if they had a library of their own. If they did, that would be cool, but he was quite sure he would never use it. This paper sea seemed lonely, and it needed people like him to be around.
His mind was flowing off again. He snapped himself back to his book, and began reading alone in silence.
