#and also two small notebooks. Like journal sized if that makes sense.... that are messy also.
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I NEEEED to start keeping track of the stuff I'm in the process of making or wanna start making/drafting cuz I just opened one of my sketchbooks and flipped through and was like FUCKKK I really like this idea why haven't I finished it yet........ It's cuz you also have 8645312 other ideas you really like and haven't finished yet just get a grip man
#diary#I use 3 dif. sketchbooks most of the time and I just started scribbling on a 4th cuz I missed it#(I get my sketchbooks from the supermarket so I always try to have more than 1 of the ones I rly like)#and also two small notebooks. Like journal sized if that makes sense.... that are messy also.#also I don't take any sketchbooks to school cuz I have 2 classes a day at MOST + taking out an ENTIRE sketchbook is distracting I think#so I do whatever on just regular notebook pages and then rip them out; fold them in half and shove them between the front page and front co#***cover#and it's all floating around. like oh I wanna learn how to structure comics I wanna revamp this character I wanna design this other OC#I need to give these guys names I need to start drawing them more consistently. ETC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111#it's just frustrating TBH#but I'm sooo messy that I can't ever keep up an organized system#I'm like Whatever I'll remember it<3#<- LIAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Crossing Paths: Part Four
Summary: Something happened to Ayda—she just doesn’t know it yet. With her internship at the Cross Points Public Library, absent mind but ever-present father, nothing feels out of place. That is, until she finds a journal in the library she can’t read and soon after a wild assortment of kids come in, asking for her help.
Together they work together to figure out their dreams, the journals, and whether they can figure their way back home from our world.
Read on AO3!
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Ayda laid awake, wondering why she had avoided letting Garthy know the truth. She hadn’t lied to him. She never lied. She did, however, not tell them the whole truth. Just that loud teenagers had come to the library right as it was closing. They had laughed and joked that she should steer clear of them. “They’re probably a bunch of bad kids,” Garthy laughed, hopping off the table. “I’m joking, love, I’m sure they perfectly fine. Don’t be afraid to talk to them if you want to.”
“They seem… normal. And I can’t always be sure that what I say or do is normal.”
“Oh, love,” they said, flipping their dreads over their shoulder. “There no way to really know if what you say or do is normal, but it’s not just you. Everyone is worried about if what they’re doing is normal. You just have to be yourself and if you’re worried about it, take cues from someone you like.”
They left after that, leaving Ayda to cook dinner for her Arthur. After an hour of waiting, she made him a plate in the microwave and went to her room. She had planned to sleep early so she could have enough energy for tomorrow, whatever it might bring. Instead, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
It wasn’t that she was nervous about meeting the other kids. In fact, she was excited. It would be nice to talk to other people her age. In school most people avoided her, saying she was “weird and hard to talk to”. She did her best not to talk as much after that. No, it actually wasn’t the kids. She was nervous about the journal. Not only did it incapacitate her, she learned nothing from the experience other than it was painful to try to read. And for them to come back to it, determined to figure out… she couldn’t imagine why they were after it.
The next morning, she walked to the library doors with heavy bags under her eyes, ready to call Rawlins to let her in. Before she could get to her phone, she saw a note on the door.
Ayda
Sorry for the short notice, but the library has been closed for the day. I will be back tomorrow afternoon. Enjoy your day off!
- Rawlins
She stared at the note, irritated and squinting. It didn’t make any sense to have the library suddenly be closed. As far as anyone knew, Rawlins didn’t do much outside of running the library. Unless it was library-related and he just forgot to tell her.
Behind her, a van rounded the corner into the parking lot, parking as close to the door as possible. All six of the kids she’d seen spilled out of the van, with two new additions (another tall man and a short girl with messy hair) surprised to see Ayda standing at the door.
Adaine shaded her eyes from the sun and said, “Are we too early?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. The library is closed.”
“Really?” Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. “We came all the back for nothing. Do you know when it’ll be open?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“Really?” Riz perked up, turning back to the van and grabbing his backpack. “Ayda, how do you feel about breaking and entering?”
“Ooh yes,” The punk girl clapped her hands, grinning. “I love it when we do illegal stuff.”
“Oh, hell yeah.” The new tall one grinned. “Do you need me to stand watch?”
“I don’t feel comfortable with illegal activity.” Then she paused, thinking about Garthy and how whatever it was they did, was probably very illegal. “Let me rephrase I am not comfortable with most illegal activity. Why are you all so interested in the journal?”
They were all quiet for a moment, exchanging looks then the tallest one piped up saying, “We’re not gonna get inside if we don’t tell her.”
“Yeah,” the redhead said. “There were letters that we found under Fabian’s house. We were just goofing around and there was a box hidden underneath a bunch of crap. Anyway, all these letters were addressed to us. There was a lot of weirdly specific stuff in them. Like how me and Tracker—”
“Babe, not that,” Tracker cut in. “It was weird, so we asked his parents about it and they both said the pages were blank. No one but us could see them.”
“And if we tried to read each other’s letters they wouldn’t make any sense. It would be a jumble of words that made no sense. And the only correlation any of them had was the Cross Points Library. So, we’re here to see if we can figure this out.”
“I see.” Ayda crossed her arms, quietly processing what they said. Much like the journal, what they said shouldn’t have been possible. And yet they were here, at a library in the middle of summer when they all (well, most) looked like they wouldn’t go near a library if they had a choice.
“Do you not believe us?”
“I do. I’ll overlook this transgression if you all introduce yourselves to me.”
They all stared for a moment before one by one looking a little embarrassed. Adaine smiled a little before pointing to each of her friends, “Tracker, Kristen, Riz, Gorgug, Fabian, Fig, and Ragh.”
“I’m Ayda. There are cameras pointed at this door. Follow me to the back.”
“So, Ayda,” Adaine said, doubling her pace to keep up with Ayda. “How long have you been working here?”
“A little under a month. I work an internship so I technically employed here.”
“Tell me you’re at least getting paid.”
“I am. I won’t work for free even if it’s work I enjoy. Equal exchange is important.”
“Hmm. Then our names were equal exchange for letting us break in?”
“Yes, I don’t know very many people my age and I’m also curious about the journal.” They stopped at the back of the building, less grand that the front and no cameras to catch what they were about to do. Ayda squatted down, feeling along the stone for a familiar carving. Almost toward the bottom, she pressed in on the one she’d carved an ‘A’ on and it came out of its place, leaving a perfectly size hole for her to pull the trick door open.
Riz looked far too excited as he picked up the stone and started to examine it. “How did you know about this?”
“Last year I spent almost all of my free time here.” She held her hand out and he gently gave her the brick. “A great deal of that time was spent wandering.”
They all shuffled in, watching their head on the low entrance and into the sublevel of the library. The door let out in the boiler room which was near inaccessible to people who didn’t know that the bookshelves on the far right didn’t touch the walls. Ayda wasn’t normally allowed in here for obvious reasons, but Rawlins had shown her just in case.
The room was as messy as the first time she had seen it. Boxes were haphazardly stacked against the far wall and an old workbench was shoved off to the right.
“Hey,” Fabian said, moving toward the pile of boxes. “This is the exact same box we found our letters in. The exact same.” He shifted the boxes on top and pulled out a small wooden chest with the same set of wings on the journal burned onto the top. Next to it, carved roughly, was a bass guitar.
“It’s locked,” Riz said, swinging his backpack off. “I’ll open it.”
“I’ll go get the books. Both of them are down here with us.” Ayda moved away from their group to the door. There was just enough space between the bookshelf and the wall that the door wouldn’t hit it. She grabbed Daya’s journal easily, always remember where it was. The second book was a little harder to find. Not that she didn’t know where it was, but every time she looked in that direction, she found herself looking elsewhere.
“Ayda!” Adaine popped out from behind the bookshelf, looking a little surprised. “I wanted to see where they were. The books.”
“Alright.”
“So… do you always spend your time here?”
“No. When I’m not here, I’m at home or helping my father with his research.”
“That sounds fun. Listen, I don’t have many… bookish people in my life.”
“Why? Are you hard to be around?”
“Uh, no, I— No? Are you hard to be around?”
“Yes. I’ve been told that many times.”
“Oh. Do you want a friend?”
They stopped in front of the shelf and Ayda turned to face Adaine. She looked sincere, fiddling with her crystal necklace. “Desperately.”
“I’ll be your friend. Would you like to hold my frog?” From her bag, she produced a small, plush frog. It was as spherical as one could make a frog without it being unrecognizable. It was cuter than it had any reason to be.
“I don’t take presents. I have nothing to give in exchange.”
“It’s not a present. I need Boggy.” She held him out and slowly Ayda took the plush. He was soft and Ayda felt calmer holding him.
“Magnificent.” Ayda gave him back and turned to the shelf, one her eyes had been scampering away from. In the very back of the autobiography section was the second book, but this one was three composition notebooks glued together. Messily written on the front was the name Iggy Fathe.
“Why is that so hard to look at?”
“I do not know.” Ayda frowned, trying to keep her gaze pinned to the name. It looked… wrong. Like it was missing something and she couldn’t place what.
“Adaine! Ayda!” Kristen’s voice called out from the other side. “We got the box open!”
“Maybe someone else will be able to look at it.”
Back in the boiler room, they were all crowding around the box, looking at a bundle of papers along with a few pictures. The pictures were blurry, but not in a way that would indicate whoever was taking them had been bad at it. No, the pictures were just blurry to her eyes and it made her not want to interact with them.
“Here’s your letter. No one but you can read it. And maybe Adaine depending.”
“Adaine?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I’m the only one who can sort of read everyone else’s letters. I can’t make out much, but I did make out enough to get us here.”
“Impressive.” Ayda unfolded the bunded of papers and felt… odd. Like something in her shifted out of place and back. Not like the journal, but almost a feeling of nostalgia.
She picked one of the boxes and settled down to read her letter.
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Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four
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