Elide
Elide is found within the confines of the library, an ancient-looking building which holds many books within its tall walls. They cover nearly anything anyone might want to read about; be it fact or fiction. At least, that is within the realm of possibility for this world. It is Elide's second favorite place to study and work.
Sometimes, when her own small home becomes too suffocating, she finds her feet guiding her here, to the library. It's been that way since she was a small child. The librarian has learned to live with her comings and goings, especially now that she is a reclusive Ascended, coming out only under the shroud of night. He sleeps near the front door now, an elderly man with white hair and a droopy face. His glasses have fallen down to the end of his nose as his body slumps in his chair. An open book lay across his desk in front of him and a fireplace crackles behind him, alive with flame. If anyone enters, he will likely not wake. Elide knows him well enough to know that he could sleep through anything. His distant snores fill the silence.
Distant because the reaches of this building are vast and spacious, and she has made her own place deep among the scrolls. She sits at a table pressed along the length of an empty bookcase, cobwebs swaying from the energy that a lit torch emits. Hers is the only one aside from the torches that light the entrance, indication that the library is still open. Elide's torch creates a soft glow from deep within the otherwise dark bookcases, the flames beckoning back and forth. Not many people visit the library at this hour, so she is not expecting the sound of approaching footsteps.
Elide, currently, is rummaging through her own bag as if searching for something she cannot find. Her bangs fall across the bridge of her nose. Papers are cast across the table in her search, fwipping through the air towards a pile of large books that lay stacked upon it.
Sometimes, when her own small home becomes too suffocating, she finds her feet guiding her here, to the library. It's been that way since she was a small child. The librarian has learned to live with her comings and goings, especially now that she is a reclusive Ascended, coming out only under the shroud of night. He sleeps near the front door now, an elderly man with white hair and a droopy face. His glasses have fallen down to the end of his nose as his body slumps in his chair. An open book lay across his desk in front of him and a fireplace crackles behind him, alive with flame. If anyone enters, he will likely not wake. Elide knows him well enough to know that he could sleep through anything. His distant snores fill the silence.
Distant because the reaches of this building are vast and spacious, and she has made her own place deep among the scrolls. She sits at a table pressed along the length of an empty bookcase, cobwebs swaying from the energy that a lit torch emits. Hers is the only one aside from the torches that light the entrance, indication that the library is still open. Elide's torch creates a soft glow from deep within the otherwise dark bookcases, the flames beckoning back and forth. Not many people visit the library at this hour, so she is not expecting the sound of approaching footsteps.
Elide, currently, is rummaging through her own bag as if searching for something she cannot find. Her bangs fall across the bridge of her nose. Papers are cast across the table in her search, fwipping through the air towards a pile of large books that lay stacked upon it.
sword for a tongue, night in the heart, room in the body
only for the mysterious — the impossible, unfathomable things
only for the mysterious — the impossible, unfathomable things
