Are We Cool Yet? [Complete!]

The Wanderers Library

OKAY OKAY OKAY DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S FANTASTIC?? THIS FIC HAS ALMOST FOUR TIMES THE AMOUNT OF VOTES AS CHAPTERS I AM SO SO HAPPY THANK YOU!

Anyway.

I dunno what POV to do this from. I might to Mask again 'cause I like the way he reacts to stuff, but also idk, I haven't done Shy in awhile but that's because he's recovering and I don't want to mess up such a delicate POV, Peanut is a little too direct for this I think.

Well I guess that leaves Doc?

My personal canon for him is the Pestilence is him sensing that someone wants to hurt him/someone close to him, but he doesn't quite understand it. I dunno, nevermind.

Okay a note: I am NOT trying to copy The Actor and the Musician. I already had this idea. Sorry if it's annoying!

The letter Doc reads is quoted word-for-word from the Wanderer's Library page.

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Not four days after we escaped the Foundation, and our world's being turned upside down by yet another group of anomaly-hunters. Well, not hunters, exactly. They're not trying to contain us, but they want us to come with them. And... there was nowhere else to go. It was only a matter of time before NTF found us. Apprehended us. Maybe killed us. So, the new group.

They call themselves the Serpent's Hand.

There was a gate, or entrance, or something-- it's all a bit fuzzy. They called it a 'Way'. And we found ourselves in a library. At least, I think that's what it is. It's huge and full of people and full of... full of things like us. Just walking around. Freely.

"What is this place?" I ask.

Breena, the girl who found us turns to look at me. At all of us, caked in mud and leaves and dust and sweat. "This is the Wanderer's Library. The once place the jailors can't reach."

Mask quirks an eyebrow in skepticism.

"Jailors?" Peanut asks.

"Your Foundation. Some of us here fight them and others, or believe in different things. You can stay or leave, help us or not. But the Library is a Haven for the anomalous. The ethereal. You are free to find a nook to stay in and read what you may. But you must respect everyone who stays here."

It's quite possibly too good to be true.

Brenna hands me a slip of paper, and I jerk my hand back in case she touches it and falls into a sleep.

"Are you okay?" Mask asks, as she wanders off. "Is it the Pestilence?"

"Actually, I... I don't sense it here. Nothing. Nothing at all."

We walk forward, almost in a daze, all of us staying close together. Peanut keeps freezing and zipping forward, then freezing again when he's seen. There are no odd looks, just a few mildly curious ones. There are men and women here, but the four of us don't stick out either. It's the strangest thing.

I wish Larry could have seen it.

Towering, glossy wooden shelves reach almost out of sight, some with ladders propped against them, many filled with books, and others with people. 

And it keeps going. Going on and on, until we reach a far wall. There are a few empty shelves here, and the full ones are mostly books. It's quieter here, a little darker.

"So we... just pick one, I guess?" Mask says.

"I think yes."

We're all tired. We all need a place to rest. Peanut zips somewhere above us, looking for a place where he'll be shielded from view and free to move.