[ota]

[only_a_doll]

Esme was sitting on the roof of the library, legs dangling over the side so her presence was very obvious, reading. She'd been there for almost twenty-four hours now, and if not for the fact that she reached out occasionally to turn a page she would have looked like some strange literary gargoyle.

Her mind was in a different place. The problem

Comments

[knownoguilt]

Simon had been having his own little love affair with the Library, since he'd arrived. It was...admittedly, something of an an emotionally abusive love affair, as he was perhaps a little less accepting of books that refused to relinquish their endings to him, but none the less, the library had been the one bastion standing between his short attention span and some really truly terrible ideas that had crossed his mind over the past few weeks

[only_a_doll]

"'Morning." At home, Esme had found that the only person left who called her 'madam' was the doorman in her apartment building, and she suspected that was because she'd never supplied him with a surname. Still, judging by his clothes this was a cultural thing and not just flat-out sarcasm. She shuffled off the edge of the roof and dropped, landing on her feet next to him.

"It's alright. Not an award winner, but it's above burning for fuel."

[knownoguilt]

Simon took a half a step back, as she dropped down to his side, still regarding her with fascination. He gave a slightly giddy laugh, as she spoke to him again, his interest in the book almost entirely forgotten, "I must say, you certainly have some presence of mind with regard to heights."

He observed this, before quickly extending his hand to her, "Simon Alexander. The thirteenth, for those with any interest in counting. And you, madam?"

[only_a_doll]

Esme had a deeply ingrained dislike of anyone with any interest in counting but she took his hand and shook it anyway. Her hands felt like hands - the illusion of skin over muscle and bone - but it was cold. Room temperature, really, and it wasn't a warm day.

"Esme." The first and only. "You've been here since everyone else arrived?" More of a confirmation than a question; she'd seen him around.

[knownoguilt]

Simon's expression dropped into one of more open curiosity as he felt the weight of her hand against his own. The coolness of her skin, the feeling of human flesh clasped in his that stood in such opposition to the appearance of the woman in front of him. "Esme." He repeated before nodding, "I was, or, at least whatever beings precede me here are beyond my comprehension."

He paused, glancing down to her hand, "May I ask you, Esme, if you are one of us? Or one of those who preceded us here?"

[only_a_doll]

"This isn't home for me. I arrived at the same time as most of the others here." Wordy, but she wasn't going to use the term 'one of us', there were implications there that she flinched from instinctively. "From New York. The year was 2010."

[knownoguilt]

Simon was nodding along with the conversation amicably up to a point, and then... then Esme got to the date, and his face dropped. "2010? You mean--" He was speechless for a moment, just... processing that. She existed, one hundred and twenty two years into the future. Simon let out another half laugh, everything about this place was truly remarkable, "Well, I can only hope that you don't find me too archaic by contrast. I'm afraid I come from an earlier century. Tell me, in the year 2010, are there many others who... are formed as you are?"

[only_a_doll]

"No. There's only ever been me." It hadn't escaped her notice that he'd been heading into the library when she'd dropped a book on him; she drifted towards the doors, hoping he'd get the hint. "And you can trust me when I say there's no need whatsoever to worry about me thinking you're too archaic. I was created in 1512."

Either his oddly self-satisifying curiosity would be fuelled further by that, or it would scare him off. She didn't much mind either way.

[knownoguilt]

"Created?" Simon's eyebrows rose abruptly, this woman grew more fascinating with every revelation made. He walked with her, less interested in entering the library now, and more interested in not losing pace with her, "You must forgive me, I found the touch of your hand... most organic in feeling. Cold blooded, perhaps, but I would not have thought that you were created by design rather than nature."

It did make sense though, the lack of nipples, as she'd bear no cub to feed, no visible sign of sex organs, nor belly button... although that was erroneous, she may have been hatched for all he knew. Indeed the coolness of her skin could easily draw him towards thinking her not mammalian in nature. Still, the thought that she should be a creature... some strange force crafted in affront to god, coaxed a smile onto his face, "Esme, I must know, what are you? By what strange method were you formed?"

[only_a_doll]

So. Now he was being - at least borderline creepy. But then again, she'd known enough men from his historical neck of the woods who had been creepier. But the fact that he wasn't flinching from the idea that she'd been made, the fact that he just wanted to know how...there was something itching, tense and uncomfortable at the back of her mind.

"I'm a golem. My body was built out of clay and animated with magic." She knew a lot more than that, very nearly enough to recreate the process, but she wasn't particularly free with that sort of detail. As far as she was concerned, sharing anything more than the absolute basics was sharing a weakness.

[knownoguilt]

"A golem?" Simon repeated, before giving a slight 'Ahh' sound. Yes, that did make sense, he was vaguely aware of the concept of the jewish monsters, but had always committed the stories to the realm of myth. Not that such things seemed to trouble much the Wood, but Simon had spent his life laboring under the belief that while deals could be struck, and power borrowed or drawn from strange sources which most left untapped... the ability to animate an object with so close an approximation of life should have been impossible.

He hesitated then, pausing upon that thought, "So... is your mind your own? I was told that golems were created for simple specific functions which they were compelled to obey, while you bear at the very least an excellent impression of autonomy."

[only_a_doll]

"I'm as autonomous as anybody else," Esme said, perhaps a little tersely.

She didn't add that that had come about by accident. Once, over three-quarters of her body had been covered in binding words: powerful commands that had dictated her personality, her actions, her knowledge, her capabilities - and her unshakeable loyalty to the man who had been as much her father as her husband. She remembered being without them for the first time, and for months afterwards even the smallest things had seemed like terrifying mysteries, huge open vistas of choice that had never before troubled her -

"I'm not a golem in the legendary sense. It's just the most adequate word."

[knownoguilt]

Simon let out a sigh of happiness, and grinned, any enthusiasm that he might have been hiding up to this point was now completely out in the open, and he was staring at Esme like she'd just revealed the meaning of happiness to him, "Then you're perfect! To think, that man could form a whole and sentient mind, to craft and a life that lived five hundred years in eclipse of his own!"

He let out another breath, still staring in wonder at her, "Five hundred years... to think, that your life both precedes and will outlast my own. There is nothing that I have ever done that will abide as you abide." He folded his arms, suddenly pulling a face, as though he'd tasted something foul, "And yet the knowledge of how to produce so wondrous a being has existed for centuries, and yet eluded me. I suddenly feel so inadequate."

Because yeah, it's all about him.

[only_a_doll]

Esme, on her part, had gone very, very still, her hand freezing on the spine of a book she'd been semi-interested in.

"Mr. Alexander, exactly what line of work are you in that would put creating golems within your field of interest?"

[knownoguilt]

Simon frowned slightly, pondering the question, "Well, I am a Magician, although whether that could be considered a line of work is dubious at best. I've never particularly made a physical profit from it. Probably fairer to say that I am a scholar and a man of my own leisure, and that I believe the creation of golems should be within everyone's field of interest. It happens to be a very interesting matter."

[only_a_doll]

"So....since the providence of some unknown entity has thrown me into your path, maybe you would consider a creature such as myself to be a worthy subject for your scholarship?"

Unfortunately, only the people who'd known Esme for a while knew that when her accent started getting a little more cut-glass and she started referring to herself as a 'creature', it was a good time to back off.