caveofsapphires | The images they sell are illusion & dream

WHO: Hope Estheim (Garrett Ross); OPEN!
WHAT: Once a researcher, always a researcher, and Hope's first instinct is to gather more information. So that's what he's doing.
WHERE: Library, rec hall, repair shop, temple-- as long as it's open to the public. Take your pick! ... Maybe not the bar because he wont willingly go there.
WHEN: April 18-19

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Scout the area was one of the first things Hope did upon leaving his room-- that, and find some food. But mostly scout the area to get acquainted with his surroundings. He'd scoured the list of names on the phone, but none of them were familiar (then again, it was a shot in the dark), so this was the next best thing.

Honestly, he didn't know what he was expecting by doing that except for wanting all his bases covered before he did anything outside.

Hope felt pretty naked with a weapon on his person, not even his boomerang, and he felt a bit pleased at that. It was good to know that his survival instincts hadn't faded over the years of relatively easy living.

Still. Boomerang. Gone.

Despite his unease at the situation, he forced himself to look around with a critical eye, making mental notes of his surroundings and walk like he wasn't nervous on the inside.

Sometimes though, he couldn't stop himself from actually stopping to touch whatever structure he'd find interesting, like the ceiling or the building itself. It's just all so new and different. You bet his scientist's soul is having a party despite his cool demeanor.

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Aziraphale calmed down slightly when he looked over his shoulder and saw Hope looking closely at the books. This was all right. He was doing his job, and this man didn't seem particularly interested in him personally. Helpful, given that Aziraphale wasn't at all sure of himself at the moment.

Still, he willed himself to relax. "Right this way," he said, less tersely than before, and walked Hope the last few steps to the history section. "Are you looking for any period of history in particular?"

The question shook him out of his train of thought. He honestly didn't know, considering he was so new to the place.

"I'm not quite sure," Hope replied, slowly walking down one aisle and peering at the books in the shelves. "I've just woken up, so I know almost next to nothing about the Cave or the Diamond City. I'm thinking this library has the information I need to get myself acquainted with the world."

Hopefully the man knew what Hope was talking about.

"Do you think there's something with all of the recorded periods here?"

Aziraphale rubbed his chin, gaze sliding from one shelf to the next. "Ah. Well." He cleared his throat. "I don't know how much you'll find about the Cave, but City history . . . there are a few texts." He tapped several spines. "Around here."

Talking about books always livened him up at least a bit, and now he met Hope's eyes. He felt slightly more clear-headed. "As far as a historical survey . . . well, I can find you something. It won't be complete. There are gaps after the Disaster."

As he pulled a few things off the shelves, he added quietly, "I woke up last week." He'd looked up all of these, too, and had written down what had been helpful, which hadn't been much. Still, hopefully they'd be more helpful to this fellow.

"How about before the Disaster? Were there any events recorded?"

The basics of this world reminded him very much of home-- something big happened, a huge, world-changing event, and those left are the ones who have to pick up the pieces. Hundreds of years later, hardly anyone knows the real story and details have been lost through time. His team was only lucky to have found recording devices of the ancient tribes during their excavation.

I woke up last week. He caught the line.

Hope offered him a small smile. If it's not easy after a week, he cant imagine it being easy months down the line. Maybe even a lifetime living in either the Cave or this mysterious City.

"I appreciate your help."

"Yes, there's plenty on life before the Disaster. That's no problem." Sighing, he shook his head. "It seems as though no one really bothered to chronicle what actually happened during, however. At least, there's nothing recorded here."

Suspicious enough, he supposed, though without much feeling. Everything felt so . . . heavy.

He returned Hope's smile. "Well, it's my job," he said. "And if I can make things easier for anyone else . . . " He shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Hope replied, sighing. "People may have been too busy trying to survive to make any sort of log of those events. That, or they've all been asleep."

Like us, goes unsaid. No need to rub it in faces, especially his own. He sighed again and ran a hand over the books

"Another possibility is that the records of the Disaster are in the City, and for some reason, someone neglected to make copies of them to put here." Possibly the Caretaker, but Hope knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions without data. He was a scientist and a researcher, not some policeman or soldier. "I think I can make do with what we have here, though."

He held out a hand. "Ho-- I mean, Garrett. Garrett Ross."

"Yes, I've wondered that," Aziraphale said. "You might wish to speak with Dr. Olsen - he works here as well - has some ideas about, well, all of this." He gestured broadly at the library, the books, them. It occurs to him that it might be dangerous, advising this young man to see Olsen, whose ideas barely skirted the edge of defiance. And yet Olsen had been the most methodical in his research, and Hope appeared to be similarly inclined.

He clasps the other's hand loosely, letting go quickly. "John Gates," he says, slightly more aggressively than the conversation warrants. He does want to reaffirm to himself, however, that he is John Gates. Not that other creature that he'd dreamed. That was too complicated.

Olsen-- the name vaguely registered in Hope's mind as part of the list in the phonebook, but he couldn't be too sure. Still, he filed it away for later, in case he'd find an opportunity to take to this doctor. Well, that was more likely than not, considering that he was apparently working here as well, and Hope needed to visit the library regularly for his studies (wasn't he finished with those yet? why was there a need for his former self to go back to school for a master's degree).

"Thanks, I'll be able to go with these. You've been a big help, Mr. Gates, even if it's your job to do so."

It's the very least he could do for the man without being a busybody, especially one who seemed as strained as him.

At that, Aziraphale gave a genuine smile, probably the first in several days. "It's no trouble at all," he said. "I'll do my best to help if you have more questions in the future, as well. Unfortunately, though, I'm about as behind all of this - " He gestured broadly. " - as you are."

He felt a little better - no less confused, but slightly more stable. Something about courtesy was tremendously grounding, not to mention gratifying. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Garrett. I hope things become clearer for all of us soon."

The images they sell are illusion & dream

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