book;

[grindset]

FORM: enchanted book
SENDER: the new guy
RECIPIENT: all
NOTES: late at night (actually stupid late)

[By a skilled hand, in the sort of almost-cursive that implies devolution into cryptic squiggles when the author writes in a hurry:]

a b x y 011235
Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs

[After a pause,

one,

two,

three drops of ink... then a bit of pen spatter.

Pause.

A partial fingerprint appears. Then a fainter one.]

Comments

[muckspout]

[Underlines five liquor jugs and draws an arrow to it. scribbles next to it in a scrawl.]

You sharing?

[grindset]

Not literal — only a pangram.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow?

[grindset]

Quick fox jumps nightly above wizard

[muckspout]

so the liquor is imaginary?

[grindset]

Yes—
who has 5 dz jugs of anything?

[muckspout]

rich people? Are you rich?

[sprent]

(The first of the three drops of ink gains petals, and changes into a lop-sided daisy.

Below this work of art:) Your turn

[grindset]

[Oh.

After a delay, a line crawls down from the flower. A flattened oval at the base. Two sloping vertical lines, a curved horizontal, and one more to finish. Flowerpot.]

[sprent]

(Gela claps in delight.

After a thoughtful pause, she adds: rectangle, a long pair of lines going outward, and a circle at the end of them. The doodle hangs precariously over the flower, at an angle. It is misshapen.

Watering can (????????))

[grindset]

[No clapping here, but this is unexpectedly entertaining; he was expecting his test page to go unnoticed overnight.

The watering can(!) is given a handle. Three narrow triangles, pinching it like fingers. A cylinder base to join them, a long stick, a circle, another stick...]

[sprent]

(Oh, a handle helps! To illustrate the watering can's usage, Gela adds a deluge of raindrop shapes, arcing between first petal and wonky spout. Viktor is seemingly working on a person to hold the watering can, which is far beyond Gela's artistic ability, but she can add grass to the base of the flower! And adding a tiny bee to visit the flower isn't difficult either.

Set dressing. You understand.)

[grindset]

[It remains an arm, floating; he seems to be finished with it.

Just watching tiny things appear now. What a remarkable invention this is. How might it be replicated? Maybe if they treat the surfaces as gates of a sort, lean on the stabilizing components for—

Well. That doesn't matter now.

But maybe he'll figure it out anyway.]

[notathreat]

What's the a b x y 011235 for?

[grindset]

a, b, x, y = common variables

0+1=1
1+1=2
1+2=3
2+3=5
3+5=8
5+8=13
8+13=21
ad inf.

Just testing my pen

[notathreat]

You're going to have people here analyzing it. Just to see if it's a code.

[grindset]

9-20 3-15-21-12-4 2-5 1 3-15-4-5.

[notathreat]

[Underlines the above. Pause, for a few minutes.]

It COULD.

[grindset]

[A brisk check mark appears next to her answer.]

23-5-12-12 4-15-14-5.

These books are astonishing.

[illithidnapped]

[His voice is a smooth downdrift. Drawling, almost. Like the vocal version of a cheek resting heavily across propped-up knuckles.]

Hm. If you're trying to learn how to write, I applaud you on picking the absolute essentials to start with.

[Writing's for nerds, though. Or private notes to those closest to him, thank you very much, so he won't be doing that. Feel free to keep scribbling away, if you want. He'll just be here, watching. Chattering on.]

[grindset]

[Somewhere in the night, a brief cringe. This was meant to be silent so most people would overlook it—but it's good to know the message formats work in combination.

First comes a brief sentence in illegible squiggles, actually Runeterran cursive, and then,]

But somehow, I also know this.

[illithidnapped]

What, gibberish? Pfft. Oh yes, congratulations on joining the likes of every child ever born since the dawn of— [hm] everything, I suppose.

All fun and games aside, though, what are you actually up to? Because unless you're in possession of an oddly specific exhibition fetish, sharing one's grocery list with the entire world seems like something of a strange choice.

[Or accidental.]

Not that I'm judging....much.

[grindset]

It was a test.
As was the "gibberish" — you simply can't read it.

[illithidnapped]

Well aren't you a clever little thing.

[This, for the record? Clearly not a compliment, sour as his tone's instantly managed to run.]

You could've always just asked, you know.

[grindset]

[Sounds like home.]

It was nothing rude — just for the record.
And I prefer empirical trials.