Elisabeth Scrivener

Room 207, Saturday Afternoon

Sat, 26 Oct 2019 17:19:22 GMT

For all that the carnival was ~~handwavily~~ fun, Elisabeth didn't really understand Homecoming or what it was about. She knew there was a dance later, but she was naively thinking would be something like a village festival dance. She'd never been to one of those, either, but she had a rough idea what they were like, at least. Surely Homecoming couldn't be that different?

Not that she was sure she was going to that anyway. She didn't know how to dance. And she still really only had her apprentice robes to wear.

And she did have a new book she'd borrowed from the Library. Hopefully it would help explain all the weird stuff going on. The other weird stuff - the stuff everyone thought was weird, as opposed to the things that were just weird to her.

[Open!]

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Room 207, Wednesday Morning

Wed, 09 Oct 2019 08:40:55 GMT

With all the extra girls around, Elisabeth had realized intellectually that she could be turned into a boy at any moment. But 'intellectually' didn't amount to much when it came to actually waking up with no chest and a lot more going on downstairs that usual.

She didn't scream. She wanted the record to show that she did not scream. Screaming was missish and silly, to be saved for Maleficts and other life-threatening terrors.

...It was more of a guttural yell, with her voice cracking and breaking halfway through.

If this wasn't evil sorcery, it was the next worst thing.

[For the roomie and anyone else who wants to check in. Alllllll the SP forever]

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Austermeer to Room 207, Sunday Afternoon

Sun, 01 Sep 2019 20:06:14 GMT

The carriage ride from Summershall had been...long. Very long. Well over a day and through the night, though they had stopped at an inn for a few hours around luncheon, so she could wash up, change, and have a meal in a chair that didn't move. After the first few hours, she hadn't paid much attention to the landscape out the window, preferring to lose herself in one of her favorite books instead, but the rumble of the carriage wheels over an unfamiliar surface had her glancing up.

And that was how she'd gotten her first glimpse of the sea, through the small square of window. It was more gray than blue and vast and the salt smell reached her even up over this bridge they were crossing (which felt longer than even the fabled Bridge of Saints in Bassbridge, Austermeer's capital city). Her face was pressed into the small gap for the entirety of the crossing, amazed that something could be so big and all-encompassing. She was so taken up with the sea that she nearly toppled out when the carriage door opened.

The driver blinked down at her as she scrambled for balance. "We're here, Apprentice," he said, offering her a hand to help her step out of the carriage. Her chest was being loaded onto a funny vehicle by a woman in clothing unlike she'd ever seen. "This conveyance will bring you the rest of the way," the driver explained. She looked at him in mute dismay; although they'd barely exchanged ten words on the trip, he was from the village of Summershall and at least familiar. Nothing else that she could spot from her vantage point was. "It's too steep and narrow for the horses to get up," he explained gruffly. "Gots t'turn around here unless I plan to get stuck."

Elisabeth nodded and offered her hand. The new driver finished securing her coach and gestured to her. "Into the rickshaw," she said, "And we'll get you up to the dorms quick as you like."

"Oh!" Elisabeth said, eyes wide. "This is a rickshaw then?" She'd run across the word in books, but had no idea what they'd looked like. Already she was learning so many new things!

Unlike the coach, Elisabeth spent the entirely of the rickshaw trip gaping at everything she could see. The town looked like any village in Austermeer, right down to the cobblestones, but nobody she spotted did. And then the town was left behind and they were on a long road going ever upwards, and suddenly there was a castle. "Is that where the king lives?" she called.

The rickshaw driver laughed. "Naw, that's the school!"

Elisabeth pointed at the next huge building. "Is that a palace?"

"Nope!" She was still laughing. "That's where you're gonna live. That's the dorms!"

Elisabeth was still calculating how many grimoires a Great Library the size of the dorms could hold when she was dropped off in front of the doors. There was someone waiting there with a key and her room assignment, sent by the moose, they said, which Elisabeth assumed was some kind of slang because how could a moose send anybody anywhere?

And then she was carrying her carpet bag and her trunk up to her floor - thank goodness only the second because her trunk was heavy, thunking up each step - and into room 207, her home however long until the Director could be convinced to let her return.

[Door and post both open!]

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Great Library of Summershall, Austermeer

Fri, 30 Aug 2019 23:15:07 GMT

( ...So, Elisabeth was in trouble )

[Content warning for the threat of corporal punishment. NFB for pre-Fandom shenanigans! Some bits and pieces stolen and cobbled together from Sorcery of Thorns, by Margaret Rogerson. Elisabeth won't be at the picnic (sorry new roomie!), it's the start of larp season.]

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Great Library of Summershall, Austermeer

Fri, 30 Aug 2019 04:02:24 GMT

( Apprentices were forbidden from entering the reading rooms. )

[NFB for pre-Fandom shenanigans. Adapted from Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson, Chapt 2]

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Great Library of Summershall, Austermeer

Fri, 30 Aug 2019 02:38:18 GMT

"Elisabeth!" a voice hissed. "Elisabeth!"

Startled, Elisabeth jerked upright, casting around until she found the source of the voice. Katrien's face peered out from between two nearby bookcases, her braid flicking over her shoulder as she checked to make sure no one else was in sight. A pair of spectacles magnified her dark, clever eyes, and hastily scribbled notes marked the brown skin of her forearms, their ink peeking out from beneath her sleeves. Like Elisabeth, she wore a key on a chain around her neck, bright against her pale blue robes. The key marked them both as apprentices, the pale blue was a sign of an archivist-in-training.

"Is something happening?" Elisabeth whispered.

( I think you're the only person in Summershall who doesn't know what's happening. )

[NFB for pre-Fandom shenanigans. Taken mostly intact from Sorcery of Thorns, Chapter Two, by Margaret Rogerson.]

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Voicemail

Thu, 29 Aug 2019 08:03:24 GMT

Hello, you have tried to reach Elisabeth Scrivener's, umm, talking device. I am not here or perhaps I simply have not yet figured out how to use this contraption. Perhaps you ought to leave a message? And I'm sure I'll eventually discover how to retrieve it.

Oh, I do wish Kathrien were here, she would have this blasted thing pulled apart and put back together in min--*Click*

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OOC: Info Post! Elisabeth Scrivener

Thu, 29 Aug 2019 07:54:17 GMT

Elisabeth Scrivener

She/Her | Sorcery of Thorns | Sophomore | 16

( Are all librarians like you, or just the feral ones raised by booklice? )

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