Post by Flanwaw on Feb 1, 2016 18:39:39 GMT
Chula seemed always to be in a flurry of activity, but a practiced eye and plenty of time spent with her would reveal a great deal of her pratterings and nervous movements to be spent in indecision or attentions shifting with such lightning speed and undefined purpose as to make a great deal of any time she spent on a task largely pointless. Yet, somehow, the Paper Warehouse just worked - moving along day after day as scrolls and books and paper and ink moved in and out of it with the sort of reliable permanency that's usually only seen in the outer spheres.
Perhaps the Paper Warehouse's continued existence could be attributed to those few souls who cared to come in and offer their services and coin to keep the place running? Most likely, at least as it seemed to most. As far as most the Docks were concerned Chula's great skill was guiding coin and able hands with incredible swiftness and guile into working towards the betterment of her little warehouse.
But for those that worked with her for long enough, much like Naralia had, there was something more to the gnome woman. A bizarre, almost crackling energy that drove things towards completion. It was with that same energy that Chula approached Naralia as she was poring over a thick tome (of whatever sort you believe Naralia would be reading) that was due to be shipped off to its permanent owner the next day. Chulip often goaded and shunted Naralia into work for her in exchange for access to the Paper Warehouse - even though it was an ostensibly charitable enterprise with free access for all it was a rare soul that managed to get through a day in the strange little library without giving something in service to Chula and her Paper Warehouse.
"Naralia." Chula would rap a frantic finger on the table upon which the tome rested, "Naralia my dear I require your services!" Her tone traveled across pitches like fingers trying to find the right chord, "Finish up that page now and come with me!" She cupped her hands together in front of her stomach, looking too and fro through the long hallways of shelves and boxes, stacked and filled with the written word.
The inside of the Paper Warehouse the day after Foundation day is a unique thing. Nearly completely devoid of any life and completely overflowing with stock - few bother picking up a new book before a day of debauchery, but plenty of crews are looking to unload their shipments of texts so they have coin in their pockets for the revelry. The place was lit with bright morning light coming in through massive windows that traced the entire circumference of the building, and was plenty of airy - usually far more spacious too. Despite the conditions, an abundance of small enchantments placed throughout the buildings kept the texts in top-condition, despite the abundance of air and sunlight that many libraries simply didn't risk.
(feel free to ask for more, or specific, information about the Paper Warehouse or Chula, as you know both the place and the person decently well I'd imagine. So you'd pretty much just know most things - so just ask.)
Perhaps the Paper Warehouse's continued existence could be attributed to those few souls who cared to come in and offer their services and coin to keep the place running? Most likely, at least as it seemed to most. As far as most the Docks were concerned Chula's great skill was guiding coin and able hands with incredible swiftness and guile into working towards the betterment of her little warehouse.
But for those that worked with her for long enough, much like Naralia had, there was something more to the gnome woman. A bizarre, almost crackling energy that drove things towards completion. It was with that same energy that Chula approached Naralia as she was poring over a thick tome (of whatever sort you believe Naralia would be reading) that was due to be shipped off to its permanent owner the next day. Chulip often goaded and shunted Naralia into work for her in exchange for access to the Paper Warehouse - even though it was an ostensibly charitable enterprise with free access for all it was a rare soul that managed to get through a day in the strange little library without giving something in service to Chula and her Paper Warehouse.
"Naralia." Chula would rap a frantic finger on the table upon which the tome rested, "Naralia my dear I require your services!" Her tone traveled across pitches like fingers trying to find the right chord, "Finish up that page now and come with me!" She cupped her hands together in front of her stomach, looking too and fro through the long hallways of shelves and boxes, stacked and filled with the written word.
The inside of the Paper Warehouse the day after Foundation day is a unique thing. Nearly completely devoid of any life and completely overflowing with stock - few bother picking up a new book before a day of debauchery, but plenty of crews are looking to unload their shipments of texts so they have coin in their pockets for the revelry. The place was lit with bright morning light coming in through massive windows that traced the entire circumference of the building, and was plenty of airy - usually far more spacious too. Despite the conditions, an abundance of small enchantments placed throughout the buildings kept the texts in top-condition, despite the abundance of air and sunlight that many libraries simply didn't risk.
(feel free to ask for more, or specific, information about the Paper Warehouse or Chula, as you know both the place and the person decently well I'd imagine. So you'd pretty much just know most things - so just ask.)