Trollslum Act 1: Welcome to Alternia

[Geminex]

You go back to being Scalis.

> Scalis: Be your creator

Creator? What on earth is that supposed to me-

You are now GEMINEX.
It is a wonderful feeling.
You are sitting in UNDERGROUND LAIR WHICH IS REALLY AN OFFICE BUT SCREW YOU PAL, considering your recent absence from this RP, brought upon by driving school, reports for college and your online time being eaten up by organizational matters and attempts to stop sucking at visual art. You do not have many successes to record. Also, you are still working on the WORLD DOMINATION thing, but you do not have many successes to record there either. That saddens you.
It is beginning to feel sort of pointless to break the fourth wall simply in order to state this, but you reason that someobody would have broken it eventually anway, so it might as well be you.
You briefly consider how very, very sexy you are as you wait for a new command.

> Decide to go meta

You decide to go meta by giving yourself the command to go meta. Which is in itself pretty meta. Well done!
> Now cut the crap, you haven't posted in ages.

'kay...

> Really be Scalis this time

You are now really being Scalis this time. You are just fishing up the "FAUNA TRANSMUTIONISTS" story you have been engrossed in, when you become aware that you are being trolled. More than usual, in any case. You'd love to return the favor. Now if you could just... retrieve your gruptop...
After some careful searching and double-checking, you manage to retrieve several grapes, an (honestly inexplicable) goat, before,finally, fishing out your grubtop. You really need to get your ARCHIVE MODUS organized, but it has always been thus. Sometimes you speculate whether you subconciously like the disorder. Then you wonder whether you should stop being an idiot. Your conclusions are generally no and yes.

Your train of self-loathing is interrupted as you see that there is a memo underway. You join it, and proceed to participate in this EXTREMELY UNPRODUCTIVE CONVERSATION.
There. That was... mildly enlightening. Though whatever you gained was counter-acted by the fact that you had to be courteous to... him...
You shudder at the thought of what he did. But soon you will be... even...
If you didn't know better, you'd say there was a barely audile humming in the background, almost like approving, yet sinister, laughter. But the only thing around you is the books, so you shake the feeling off and turn back to your gruptop. Another troll! It almost seems as if they are lining up to be condescended by you! Coming to you like they originate from a country suffering a severe shortage of... something extremely popular and vital, and they have heard that you have such a large supply of said thing that it practically amounts to a free good, so it is imperative that you immediately commence in an activit related specifically to the distribution of... said... thing...
You're not very good at metaphor. Or simile. Or allegory.
Good at synonyms, though.
...
Anyway, you reply, and then proceed to have THIS CONVERSATION.

But enough of social interaction. You are on duty, here. You return the FAUNA TRANSMUTATIONISTS novel to its proper place on the shelves (though you are certain that it will not remain in its proper place for any length of time) and continue down the many ailes, letting your intuition guide you. Some might say that going with the flow is probably the worst thing you could do when in a place of knowlege and strange power, a place where reality has few limits and even fewer points of reference, where there is no real difference between a word on a page and a moment of existence! They would speak of losing touch with reality, of become less troll and more character with each step, of becoming part of a story, a tool of the books, the many, many fragments of author's minds, carried on by their written words, assembled, connected with all others to make an unspeakably powerful, unpredictable, omniscient superconciousness. But you would accuse them of exaggerating, and point out that, even should the library harbor you ill will, it isn't going to keep itself cleaned, sorted and safe. Who'd make sure silence was maintainted at all times in the reading rooms, hmm? Besides those individuals didn't go through the arduous experience of trying to make a map for this place. After wasted almost half a sweep, you gave it up and decided on going with the flow. It's served you well so far, you doubt today will be the day you regret letting your hive influence you. What're the odds!

As you stride purposefully (though your slippers turn it into more of a purposefull shuffle, honestly), you are constantly vigilant! For out-of-place books, for anomalies, for anything the librarchivary could throw at you. CONSTANT VIGILANCE is the key to survival. And when it comes to a vigilance-off, you are uqite simply the best there is.

Or you would be. If not for the fact that you are imagining what it would be like to be a FAUNA TRANSMUTATIONIST. Yes! You would HAVE the power of transmutation, and along with your gang of friends at your side (or, rather of "friend", as your relationships have been suffering lately), you would... Do some research! It would be vital to find out which FAUNA would be most effective at fighting the SLUGLIKE MIND-CONTROL ALIEN invasion. This would take a while, but the conflict would undoubtedly cease quickly once you discovered the perfect TRANSMUTATION. No series of increasingly desperate, dramatic, exciting adventures for you. Nope. Several hours of research, and one utterly risk-free mission. Much better that way. Knowlege triumphs again! You stop, vaguely aware that you've entered some sort of larger space, but you're concentrating on something else right now..

Something is niggling at you, something about... writing, and stories, and why knowlege never triumphs, ever, (at least not in these situations) but... you are dimly aware of the source of this niggling bit of info. And that alone is enough to banish it from your mind. You do not want to remember that, him. No thank you, no need to file those memories, straight into the shredder with them, the incinerator, the center of the alternian sun, thank you very much. But that is not how it works. You find it very, very hard you forget. Facts, things, people. Especially people. Excrutiatingly hard. And when you do forget, or at least manage to push something away, out of sight, out of mind, you tend to be... reminded at times. Vividly. As you look around and realise exactly where it is your feet and your intuition decided to take you, you become extremely certain that this is one of those times. There's pages on the floor, ash, soot, broken glass. The air smells of ozone and electricity and knowlege gone wrong, and you crouch down, sit back against one of the few intact shelves in this once-great reading hall. You have now been reminded, very vividly. So, like it or not, you now get to... remember.
Enjoy the ride.