I wanted to draw that ‘I’m a barista at Starbucks and I can never spell your name right, how about you write it down for me and also maybe give me your number?’ au (x) for a long time but in Nyx’s POV. And I finally did it! YAY!
I tried to used the Sexy Librarian Nyx (x) (x) coz I’m pretty sure he needs his caffeine and the cute barista who keeps messing up his name…on purpose.
Adds student publications to the catalog- like zines, club minutes, even notes for classes that haven’t much changed in years (Professor Binns, we’re all looking at you.)
Adds MUGGLE PUBLICATIONS to the collection
It all started with this one kid and a comic book. They may be Luna’s favorite student, ever.
Recording commentary for quidditch matches so that kids who miss them- due to detentions, studying, or just plain anxiety- can hear how it all happened
Recording oral accounts of the battle of Hogwarts.
And then on and back as far as she can get anything for. The war, times before that. Even mundane things.
She finally gets the stories of each of the ghosts hanging out. It eases a lot of muggleborns’ minds to know a little bit about these people who are past but not gone.
Making a book that works something like google- all text of everything in the library is recorded, and by speaking a few key words to the book, it will tell you what book(s) you need, what page, where to find them, etc. It will also say “Listen just ask Professor Longbottom about this, I don’t have anything for you” or “our library doesn’t have anything about why you want to kiss girls, Jane, but Miss Lovegood has actual experience with this, why don’t you ask her?”
This book, of course, will tell you that the book you want is in the restricted section. It will still tell you exactly what page you need, though, so there’s none of that “welllllllll, it must be in the restricted section, but I don’t know where……” nonsense. It puts a lot of teachers at ease and helps them sort out students who want to Learn and students who want to get in trouble
Changes the charms on books from beating students for doodling in them, to calmly explaining why it’s better that you Not doodle in the 500 year old book that is not Yours, Dear
Provides doodling supplies so students have an outlet that isn’t 500 years old
Spends holidays painting murals on every wall and the ends of the big shelves. She enlists different teachers for sections that apply to their subjects and hobbies for ideas on what to paint. The history section is legendary for depictions of the giant wars and various scenes from Merlin’s life.
(She also enlists students who don’t have anywhere to go over the winter break. The parties in the library are a secret well kept, but only because these kids who have so little deserve something special)
The herbology section is actually draped in various vines that, if you ask nicely, will reshelve books for you. Though everyone agrees that if you want the books back where they really belong, it’s best to water the vines.
The library becomes a place to escape, not just study and/or fear for your life
McGonagall has pretty much never been more proud of anyone she’s ever hired
Luna and Neville and McGonagall have tea every Thursday
And other days in between, but Thursday is a set date
So my friend and I got talking about the good old days and it hit me that I’ve probably got some mildly entertaining tales from my teenage years ( which only ended four years ago I can’t believe I made it to 23 )
So here’s a few of the shenanigans Hot Mess High School Me got into ~
( I went to a weird school that threw grades 7 -12 together in the same buildings so this is at the same school the whole time just not divided into middle school and high school )
- Made the art teacher gasp because I knew a surprising amount about Medieval art styles ( I’m obsessed with history and the Medieval era is just such a hot mess of a time)
- Got scolded in Math class for reading , learned to read more stealthily
- Memorized the coded language from ’ Vladimir Todd ’ , a popular teen book series about a sarcastic teenage vampire who just wants to be normal, and used it to write notes in class
Eventually this resulted in my getting sent to the counselor because the teacher suspected me of being a cult leader
I ran with that assumption and to this day the school still thinks I founded the cult of Vladimirism , a cult devoted to the protection and support of rebellious teen outcasts , queer kids , and unfairly treated main characters ( we’re a small cult but we are very nice and membership is free , we spread love and rebellion , our mascot is a baby bat )
- Started a week long debate on sexism in history class with my teacher , which resulted in him actually awarding the most fervent arguers a free soda
Turned out it was just a scam of his to see how many of us were actually morally upstanding , and which ones were rooted deep in the patriarchal bullshit .
I got a soda AND a candy bar because I kicked off the debate by asking
“ We talk a lot about oppressed groups but we haven’t talked about women yet, do you think women aren’t oppressed?”
Which got a sexist boy in back to go “ Women don’t count ”
And I snapped back “ Women can count higher than YOU”
- Caused an ethical , moral, and spiritual debate in my Seminary class over abortion that ended with three girls declaring themselves Athiests
- Accused my Seminary Teacher of racism and sexism for his assumption that God is white and male
- Got kicked out of Seminary for arguing with the teacher about God hating gay people , and instead of going back in after ten minutes I just left and went to my friend’s house
- Called out my chemistry teacher for overlooking the accomplishments of women in the scientific fields
- Accidentally became a student librarian because I spent so much time there and I memorized the book keeping system
- Was officially the most well-read student and got an award for checking out over thirty books in a month
- Got suspended because a teacher heard me singing P!nk’s “ Fun House ” and thought the lyric ’ burn this sucker down’ was a threat of arson so I got to meet the Sheriff ( who incidentally was the father of one of my classmates and who still invited me to his daughter’s birthday party the next week ) and even though Sheriff Brooks was intimidating I cry REALLY easily so I got off with a warning despite me never remotely intending to burn my school down
I got suspended for a week but it was actually fine , and the Sheriff was super chill to me after that
- Was extra enough to get voted Most Dramatic in the yearbook
Was it because I frequently flopped down on the floor to nap if I was tired?
Or was it my complete overreaction to anything unexpected?
Maybe it was my scathing remarks to everything
’ Do you want to be study buddies’
’ Brittany, why would I want to study with someone with can’t spell their name right ’
Or my dramatic reactions to anything even slightly inconvient
’ THE HEAVENS ARE DISPLEASED WITH YOU MERE MORTALS, THEY WEEP AT YOUR FAILURES “
’ It’s just raining calm down ’
’ dude I’m more concerned about the fact she referred to US as mortals but not her? ’
’ Aw man , the cafeteria is out of pudding cups ’
” THE FIRST PLAGUE BEGINS , WE WERE WARNED OF THIS IN THE PROPHECY “
” What? What prophecy? “
- Got caught writing fan fiction in class but didn’t get in trouble because my teacher was a hardcore Harry Potter fan and he just wanted to read the story
( it was a Weasley Twins Deathly Hallows AU and I’ll post it on ao3 if you wantttt)
- Skipped school like six times to watch Inuyasha with my friend Melanie ( I faked being sick and just went to her house instead of going home)
- Became the school’s top badass because I stealthily orchestrated the expulsion of every kid who bullied me or my siblings and never got caught
( hey Ashley Bassett if you’re reading this I snitched on you , and I don’t regret it )
- Planned a prank that scared my U.S.Marine drama coach so much he almost called in reinforcements
I got my whole Drama class to fake a murder scene in the auditorium because Tony ( our coach) said we didn’t act dead convincingly .
So we faked a Sweeney Todd worthy slaughter fest , making it appear as though thirty teens were brutally murdered .
It was GLORIOUS. My friend Indi runs out into the hall , knowing Tony is just entering the building , and he first thing Tony sees is an apparently mortally wounded kid running toward him, gasping out last words.
’ They…got …us …They got all of us….run….SAVE YOURSELF ”
And then Indi collapses right there , looking for all the world like he’s dead , and poor Tony just panics and burst into the auditorium , flips the lights on, and screams
We listen to him freak out for a minute, but as he pulls out his phone to call the cops , Indi sneaks up behind him and taps his shoulder and goes “ Was that convincing enough, Tony? ”
Tony about fainted
- Snuck the name Sasuke Uchiha into every assignment
- Turned Naruto Running into a thing at my school
- Caused an existential crisis for my English teacher by suggesting that everything we experience could be fictional and we could be fictional characters unaware we don’t exist , and that death is simply someone finishing our book , but there’s no way to probe or disprove this theory because this reality (?) is all we know
- secretly wrote cryptic riddles in my school books for the next student to find
- The words ’ Bankai’, ’ Hollow’ and ’ soul reaper’ got banned in class because teachers thought it was a cult thing and none of us discouraged that thought
It occurred to me recently that your average hospital is filled with so
many great people, that it’s often hard to tell them apart. So here’s a
handy guide to some of the people you’ll meet in hospital.
Today’s team is…more assorted cool people that you might meet on the ward, and awesome behind-the-scenes helpers. Remember, hospitals are a lot bigger than just the teams of doctors and nurses!
of course like to write much more about what these amazing people do,
and how great they are, but my comic is wordy enough as it is. Needless
to say, hospital wouldn’t be the same without them. I’m still working on more people to include, so it’s not an exhuastive list…
one is entirely sure when it snuck into the Elsewhere University Library, but
one thing has become entirely certain: it is never, ever leaving.
why should it leave, with a veritable unlimited floor plan filled to the bell
tower with delicious, fragrant tomes to claim and hoard and sample.
ink-black serpentine wyrm that originally was not much bigger than a rabbit, it
used to scamper here and there in the library looking for open tomes to slurp
the words out of (it is a terribly messy eater, much to the librarians’
chagrin). The words it eats etch themselves somewhere onto its dark hide,
though it has consumed so many letters in so many languages that it is
difficult now to see where new bits of prose are added.
have been warned repeatedly over the years not to feed the bookwyrm. But there
are always those who do not heed the warnings of the librarians. It used to be
a funny pastime for students that had become stuck in one section or another of
the library’s labyrinthine stacks to feed scraps of paper with vulgar words to
the then tiny bookwyrm and then try to find where the offending epithets
manifested. The bookwyrm was not terribly picky about the words it ate back
then, because it was always hungry. Whether they were in good taste or bad, it
didn’t matter; its appetite was insatiable.
this kind of recklessness is why it grew so large in such a, relatively, short
amount of time. It sprang up to the size of a cat one semester, then a large
dog a year later, and then eventually… well, to the point where it’s a very
good thing that the library has a mostly Other architecture, because it surely
would have burst the building by now. And the bigger it grew, the more
territorial it became. The more it hoarded tomes in certain sections (it really
seemed to savor Anne McCaffrey’s works, but would never be found anywhere near
Hemingway, for example). The more aggressive it became to students and librarians
alike who needed the books also.
to avoid another calamity like the last wyrm that took up residence on the
campus, the librarians decided to make good use of their new pet. With a
copious amount of parchment and ink, they lured the bookwyrm down down down deep
into the seldom used catacombs of The Library and set it to work. They knew
that once it was presented with its new collection that it would never stray
far from it again. And there it stays.
was a constant conundrum that the librarians faced in the early days, when the
Fair Folk and students were beginning to… mingle. A place filled with a vast
amount of knowledge like The Library is always bound to have certain… archives
that are better perused by no one. Ancient texts. Tomes of ages, dated further
back than it is currently recorded that written word existed. The language of
the birds, poetry of the stars, and truths that would shatter the mind. Words
that needed to be preserved but not necessarily studied. Not by the Good Neighbors,
and certainly not by incoming freshmen. Absolutely not by school
bit of such knowledge is dangerous. A little more is a disaster. Lots of that knowledge,
though, would present a crisis of cataclysmic proportions. These are the books,
bound in iron and chains, locked with enchantment and dusted with bottled
oblivion, that the wyrm keeps. Guards. Claims. Hoards.
all words fade with time. Some grow sharp teeth and attack from the dark
if you are lost in the library and find yourself in a place that is blacker than
spilled ink, smells of iron and sulfur, and sounds like an ancient bellows, turn around
and leave out the way you came.
if possible (which, in The Library, of course, it always, always is).
“There’s something in the book return bin.” Acrylic nails drum against the circulation desk countertop; Junk winces, trying to block out the aggressive unpleasantness of the sound. Her cat, sleeping on the countertop, stirs irritably. The patron mistakes Junk’s discomfort for belligerence, and repeats themself more loudly: “There’s something in the book return bin.”
Junk looks up, puts on her best attempt at a customer-service smile. “Is it books?” She asks, without an awful lot of hope.
It is not books. Or, more accurately, it is not just books. Maybe a homeless man, the patron at the desk had told her, or maybe a fox, or a raccoon, or one of those things, the, uh, what are the furry things with the naked tails and the opposable thumbs and the small, sharp teeth? Possums, right, they’d said. Maybe it’s a possum.
Whatever it is, it’s Junk’s responsibility as student assistant librarian to deal with it. Which is not particularly cool or fun, but then, no one ever said that being the student assistant librarian would be either.
There’s a procedure for things like these. There’s an old paperback on the front shelf to be checked out and checked in and checked out again, for use as a tester whenever there’s a kink in the barcode scanner or something in the book return bin. That’s the first tool. Junk takes the paperback and checks it out. There’s a small notebook on top of the stock shelf, full of helpful troubleshooting tips Junk’s collected herself over the course of her employment here. That’s the second tool. Junk puts it in one of the many spacious pockets in her cargo pants. There’s a big cardboard shoebox under the circulation desk, and a smaller cardboard shoebox inside of it, and a smaller iron lockbox inside of that. That’s where they keep the thousand and one. The third tool. Junk leaves it in its boxes, for now. She’ll come back for it if she needs it. Hopefully she won’t. It’s never a good day when she needs to take the thousand and one out of its boxes.
Information is power. But like all power, there are those who want to keep it for themselves. The world’s entire scientific and cultural heritage, published over centuries in books and journals, is increasingly being digitized and locked up by a handful of private corporations. Want to read the papers featuring the most famous results of the sciences? You’ll need to send enormous amounts to publishers like Reed Elsevier.
There are those struggling to change this. The Open Access Movement has fought valiantly to ensure that scientists do not sign their copyrights away but instead ensure their work is published on the Internet, under terms that allow anyone to access it. But even under the best scenarios, their work will only apply to things published in the future. Everything up until now will have been lost.
That is too high a price to pay. Forcing academics to pay money to read the work of their colleagues? Scanning entire libraries but only allowing the folks at Google to read them? Providing scientific articles to those at elite universities in the First World, but not to children in the Global South? It’s outrageous and unacceptable.
“I agree,” many say, “but what can we do? The companies hold the copyrights, they make enormous amounts of money by charging for access, and it’s perfectly legal — there’s nothing we can do to stop them.” But there is something we can, something that’s already being done: we can fight back.
Those with access to these resources — students, librarians, scientists — you have been given a privilege. You get to feed at this banquet of knowledge while the rest of the world is locked out. But you need not — indeed, morally, you cannot — keep this privilege for yourselves. You have a duty to share it with the world. And you have: trading passwords with colleagues, filling download requests for friends.
Meanwhile, those who have been locked out are not standing idly by. You have been sneaking through holes and climbing over fences, liberating the information locked up by the publishers and sharing them with your friends.
But all of this action goes on in the dark, hidden underground. It’s called stealing or piracy, as if sharing a wealth of knowledge were the moral equivalent of plundering a ship and murdering its crew. But sharing isn’t immoral — it’s a moral imperative. Only those blinded by greed would refuse to let a friend make a copy.
Large corporations, of course, are blinded by greed. The laws under which they operate require it — their shareholders would revolt at anything less. And the politicians they have bought off back them, passing laws giving them the exclusive power to decide who can make copies.
There is no justice in following unjust laws. It’s time to come into the light and, in the grand tradition of civil disobedience, declare our opposition to this private theft of public culture.
We need to take information, wherever it is stored, make our copies and share them with the world. We need to take stuff that’s out of copyright and add it to the archive. We need to buy secret databases and put them on the Web. We need to download scientific journals and upload them to file sharing networks. We need to fight for Guerilla Open Access.
With enough of us, around the world, we’ll not just send a strong message opposing the privatization of knowledge — we’ll make it a thing of the past. Will you join us?
- ‘Y'know, roommates doesn’t actually mean we have to share the room inside one person’s head’ AU - ‘Look, I’m trying to fix this mess but my telepathy does not like you, alright? Now, let’s get to class, I’m not failing even though you won’t stop singing ‘Read My Mind’ by the Killers on repeat’ AU
- “You just broke my heart. If you think you’re the only evil one in this relationship then honey, you’re just plain naïve” AU - “You cut up my supersuit?!’ AU
- ‘I have major exams tomorrow so could you knock off the supervillain schtick for one goddamn night?’ AU - ‘Look, we all have different ways of dealing with exam stress: you revise, Carolyn bakes, I terrorise major metropoli. Each to their own’ AU
- ’…I didn’t know supervillains wore crocs and facemasks’ AU - ‘Fuck. Off.’ AU
- ‘You’re a super cute student librarian and I check out random books left on a shelf by the door just to talk to you’ AU - ‘I know my nemesis is a bookworm and the books my crush is checking out are making me really suspicious that it’s them. I mean, Bomb Making 101? Costumes For Dummies? Please tell me that’s not as suspicious as I think it is’ AU
- ‘I just went to a student recital and the solo violin piece is the same tune my nemesis has been humming for months. I see you, villain’ AU - ‘I’ve been letting my roommate practice their recital piece in the room for months and I’ve had it stuck in my head for ages. I must have been humming it because now my heroic pain-in-the-ass enemy is stalking my roommate 24/7. Whoops’ AU
- ‘I’m the physics professor, you’re the biology teacher and biology is a soft science. How on earth are you going to use such a pathetic discipline to stop me conquering the city?’ AU - ‘It won’t be ‘soft’ when I use it to breed mutant fruit flies to kick your ass!’ AU
- ‘Y’know when I told you to hand out these fliers even if you had to shove them down someone’s throat, I didn’t mean it literally’ AU - ‘Look, the local supervillain needs to learn about recycling and I am very passionate about this cause. Now he wants to kill me but at least now he puts his cans and crushed aeroplanes in the right recycling box ’ AU
- ‘You keep reserving the 3D printer in the library and I fucking need that for my next evil mach- I mean, physics project. So hand it over. Now.’ AU - ‘Well I need it for my- wait a minute, are you…? Oh my god. Oh my god. …well, now I know you’re my nemesis I’m never, ever letting you have access to this. Bring on The War For The 3D Printer 2k17’ AU
- ‘I stalked my nemesis to a party because I need a significantly dramatic place to confront them but now they look horrified, oh god did they spot me’ AU - ‘My ex is coming over to talk to me, I don’t know what to do- shit, I just grabbed a handsome stranger and made out with them, I hope they don’t slap me’ AU BONUS: ‘MY NEMESIS JUST KISSED ME?! WHAT THE F-’ AU
student info: Junk, the student assistant librarian
The library is an odd place, and the librarians are an odd bunch. There’s the research librarian who hunts monsters; there’s the one who smells like fig newtons and seems to live and breathe books and only books, as if bound somehow to the library itself; there’s the… some guy, you think, who helps with reshelving (and “some guy” is not at all an accurate description of… whoever or whatever he is, but you don’t dare risk any other description) and, of course, the head librarian. The head librarian is called Irons, and her name suits her. Mrs. Irons is rarely seen, but when she does show up, everything- everything- falls silent. They say Mrs. Irons once shushed the Wild Hunt. You almost believe it. They say she learned the true name of one of the Gentry, and put him to work in the library as an unpaid intern. You don’t know about that, but you don’t look up when you hear some guy shuffling a book cart around the shelves.
And then there’s the student assistant librarian.
The student assistant librarian is exhausted and stressed all the time. Usually she says her name is Junk, but sometimes she gets confused and introduces herself as something else instead- not ever her true name, no, just whatever she happens to blurt out. She’s used to false names. She wears boots with iron hobnails and sweaters inside out and cargo pants with a hundred things in their pockets; her hair is usually uncombed but always smells of witch hazel. She’s tall, but she has the sort of permanent stoop you get from keeping your eyes on the ground all your life. She’s personable, but she doesn’t do well when conversations go off script. She never makes eye contact, and her dark eyes move oddly when she looks around- as though there are things in the room she wants to avoid seeing. She lies as often as she tells the truth, seemingly without reason. Her lies are always either entirely inconsequential or unconvincing to the point of absurdity, but she always delivers them with the same impossibly straight face.
The job is minimum-wage work study; you’re not sure how many hours they’re even allowed to give a student each week, but it seems like Junk is always in the library. There’s a dingy old microwave behind the circulation desk and a pile of clothes from the lost and found that could conceivably be a bed, if you’re an exhausted college student who doesn’t want to risk the trek back across campus at three in the morning. (Any time but three in the morning, freshmen quickly learn- you can be a night owl all you like, but three in the morning is not our time.)
The student assistant librarian, whose name is usually Junk, is on the brink of flunking all her classes and always behind on reshelving. This is understandable. She is a student and an assistant librarian, but the real task of the student assistant librarian has little to do with either of those things. The library is an odd place and it is full of odd things, things odder even than the librarians. It is the task of the student assistant librarian to provide protection between the library and the students. She wanders the shelves with silver studs in her ears, washers on a chain around her neck, salt in her boots, a hand-crank flashlight in her pocket, and a crumpled guide to the Dewey Decimal system in her hand. She recites a poem as she walks, not because it keeps her safe but just because it’s her favorite stim: feeling the rhymes and rhythms on her own tongue, finding the patterns, finding the sense. It helps keep her calm- and she needs to be calm when she walks the shelves.
She finds the students who have wandered into danger; she finds the danger that has wandered into the library. She sorts things out. She chews her lips bloody inside every time she goes into the deep shelves, but she sorts things out. She knows exactly how to deal with the Gentry, and exactly how to avoid dealing with them. She is not all-powerful, nor does she think of herself as particularly heroic, but she is smart and she is stubborn and when you are in her library you will be safe.
There’s a rumor that Junk was born with the Sight. You’re not sure if that’s true- you’re not sure if that’s possible- but when you look at her, this strange gangling girl who strides into the deep shelves every night for minimum wage and strides back out again with lost students at her side, this girl who knows every rule for every interaction with the Gentry, this girl that lies as easily as breathing and once accidentally introduced herself as Captain Kirk, this girl that you once saw crying into a cup of E-Z Mac behind the circulation desk… when you look at her, you think that if anyone was ever born with the Sight, it was probably Junk.
You do not envy her that.
She has a cat, officially registered with the school as a support animal for her autism. It is grey, a bit chubby, incredibly loving, dumb as a box of rocks and about as energetic, and all in all one of the most aggressively mundane animals you’ve ever seen. Perhaps that’s why the Gentry have never messed with it- or maybe that’s because Junk has always ensured that the cat is as protected as it is possible for any animal to be: an iron-buckled collar of brass bells, fur washed with witch hazel water she’s left in the moonlight, salt packets sewn into its support animal vest, no name given, and always at her side. It does not chase mice in the library. It does not chase anything at all, nor has it ever attempted to drink or eat from the offerings that students leave out. Maybe, upon reflection, it isn’t actually that dumb.
On the occasions she actually manages to make it to class, she usually falls asleep on her tiny desk within ten minutes. Even in small classes, most of her classmates don’t want to wake her. Student assistant librarian is not an easy job, and it is only decency to allow her rest where she can find it. Her grades suffer, but she will return to the library for her shift, and when you are in her library, you will be safe.
Junk doesn’t have a major. Even after two years, she’s still muddling through her gen eds. She doesn’t often talk about her family- at least, she doesn’t often tell the truth about them- but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love them. Sometimes, at Elsewhere, it’s best to keep the things you love secret. Her family, whoever they are, wherever they are, are proud that their daughter made it to university. They do not know about her job, or the duty that comes along with it. They especially do not know about her grades.
Finals week is hard on everyone, but it also means that the number of students in the library increases tenfold- and so does the number of other things. Finals week is the most dangerous time of year, more dangerous even than the ravages of Spring Break, and it is the duty of the student assistant librarian to provide protection between the library and the students. She stays up all night herding the desperate studiers out of the unsafe places; she takes her exams as quickly as she can (too quickly) and then races back to the library to fetch those who have gone missing in her absence. It is not uncommon to see Junk full-on sprinting down the campus sidewalks during finals week, lanky limbs akimbo, hair wild, cat peeking out of her backpack. As hard as she runs, though, she never cuts a corner from the safe pathways.
Not a single student has been Taken* from the library since she started work- an unprecedented record. She’s proud of that, even and especially on days when she’s too exhausted to put three sentences together, let alone write a timed essay. It seems unfair to give a job like this to a full-time student, and it is- but there is something about it that’s vital that the student assistant librarian must be both student and librarian. They must be a go-between. They must walk both worlds. They must provide protection.
(*She found a philosophy student halfway to the Barony once, miles past the marble palace in the reference section. He was lost and glamour-dazed, but not yet Taken, not all the way. She gave him half the sandwich she had in her pocket (the other half went back into the pocket, just in case) and led him back to the circulation desk in time for the end of night shift- the journey had been several days, she was certain, but time passed differently in the library. Two weeks later, the same philosophy student went missing from a party, and never reappeared. Junk couldn’t do anything about that; he wasn’t in her library. But no one gets taken from her library.)
Junk never asks for anything in return from the students she rescues from the deep shelves- it is her duty, after all, and duty means a bargain bigger, more binding, and more sacred than any trade between students. Still, it might be a good idea to help her with her classwork. After all, if she flunks out, the school is unlikely to get another student assistant librarian like this one.
((Hope this is alright! Wasn’t sure how to submit this but… Junk and Mrs. Irons are original characters of mine, sliding into Elsewhere University AU-wise. Anyone who wants to can find out more about them and their other lives (and talk to Junk!) at my blog @deweydeadcimal.))
The animation is simple, the story is bare bones, and the CG is anything but photo-realistic. Yet I’ll be damned if I didn’t get totally sucked into The Boxcar Children.
The Boxcar Children made me think back to when i was a little kid. I grew up in a pretty shitty home, and I used to be OBSESSED with the idea of runaways and running away. This film’s portrayal of a family of 1920s orphans who create their own small world in an abandoned train car in the woods would’ve been like cartoon crack to me! I can only imagine how enchanted I would have been watching the Alden kids figuring out how to live on the outskirts of society. It would’ve easily made it onto my ‘favorite films’ list at the time.
There’s something quite special about the way that directors Daniel Chuba, Mark A.Z. Dippé and Kyungho Jo bring Gertrude Chandler Warner’s classic children’s books to life. The film’s lo-fi aesthetic matches that of the orphans’ make-shift boxcar home. And like the boxcar, the film’s antiquated appearance actually serves to enhance its hominess and warmth. Animation students and low budget cartoonists would do well to study the film’s engaging characterization and pitch-perfect pacing. These, accompanied by the filmmakers’ deft use of their limited animation budget, will surely serve as inspiration and encouragement for anyone struggling to create their own cartoons.
What The Boxcar Children lacked in funding, it more than makes up for in heart. It truly is a charming film!
We started doing everyday cosplay on Monday and usually stick to a theme to bind us all together. This picture shows off our theme of D.C. Superheroes! From L to R we have Sarah (reference and instruction librarian) as Batman, Kassie (reference and instruction librarian) as The Flash, Jess (circulation clerk and LIS grad student) as Aquaman, and Laura (senior circulation clerk) as Wonder Woman. We all work at SUNY Genesee Community College in Batavia, NY.