There's a joke in there somewhere about how all Archivists are nonstandard, but I'd be embarrassing myself. And I don't know how many others are hanging around who'd have a bone to pick with me afterwards.
[Haha, his private little necromancy joke. Fun stuff. But, alright-]
I suppose if I feel the urge to meet a cow, I'll stop by. Where, exactly? And put that over here, by the shelves.
[Multitask, as they've arrived in what Palamedes has claimed as his own office, such that a somewhat narrow, high-ceilinged room with no door can be an office. The room is mostly swept by now; dust seems to gather around the edges no matter what, which he has a personal vendetta against for the contents of this room if not for himself (terminally dusty as he appears to be, all the time). There's a large wooden desk at the far end that faces the open doorway, a chair behind it, and two more slightly rumpled and old armchairs in front of it, plush - if faded.
Most of the room is shelves, and most of the shelves are empty. A closer look shows how worn they are, a few bowed in the middle from clearly having kept quite a few books and sundry years and years ago, but since emptied and left waiting. Some of the shelves have new things on them, books of Palamedes' own, a- a doll, possibly haunted- and one shelf in particular that's been especially cleaned and dusted holds nothing but a fountain pen and an inkwell, which doesn't actually seem to be full. One side of the room also features a loft overhead, looking recently-repaired, and there are even more shelves up there. Possibly also a couch or something? It's not clear from this angle.
Palamedes has reserved the space behind the desk for larger objects he means to preserve in storage later on; currently a painting leans against the wall there, under an offwhite sheet, and a few large and variously cracked vases flank it. This is where he gestures for Oscar to put the bust.]
The actual archival process is, well, a process; my personal project isn't exactly the priority of this place. [Shrug! He's only not manically studying art preservation because people keep coming in bleeding out of places they shouldn't, and he's needed elsewhere. Anyway.]
As for space... yes; it's dark. Besides the stars themselves. Granted, I've never been outside the system I'm from.
no subject
[Haha, his private little necromancy joke. Fun stuff. But, alright-]
I suppose if I feel the urge to meet a cow, I'll stop by. Where, exactly? And put that over here, by the shelves.
[Multitask, as they've arrived in what Palamedes has claimed as his own office, such that a somewhat narrow, high-ceilinged room with no door can be an office. The room is mostly swept by now; dust seems to gather around the edges no matter what, which he has a personal vendetta against for the contents of this room if not for himself (terminally dusty as he appears to be, all the time). There's a large wooden desk at the far end that faces the open doorway, a chair behind it, and two more slightly rumpled and old armchairs in front of it, plush - if faded.
Most of the room is shelves, and most of the shelves are empty. A closer look shows how worn they are, a few bowed in the middle from clearly having kept quite a few books and sundry years and years ago, but since emptied and left waiting. Some of the shelves have new things on them, books of Palamedes' own, a- a doll, possibly haunted- and one shelf in particular that's been especially cleaned and dusted holds nothing but a fountain pen and an inkwell, which doesn't actually seem to be full. One side of the room also features a loft overhead, looking recently-repaired, and there are even more shelves up there. Possibly also a couch or something? It's not clear from this angle.
Palamedes has reserved the space behind the desk for larger objects he means to preserve in storage later on; currently a painting leans against the wall there, under an offwhite sheet, and a few large and variously cracked vases flank it. This is where he gestures for Oscar to put the bust.]
The actual archival process is, well, a process; my personal project isn't exactly the priority of this place. [Shrug! He's only not manically studying art preservation because people keep coming in bleeding out of places they shouldn't, and he's needed elsewhere. Anyway.]
As for space... yes; it's dark. Besides the stars themselves. Granted, I've never been outside the system I'm from.