Elizabeth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tearmeanewone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2016-02-22 10:44 pm
tearmeanewone) wrote in undergrounds2016-02-22 10:44 pm
Entry tags:
[Open] I'm Not the Same Kid From Your Memory
Date: Catch-all for February
What: A crisis of conscience. But what can someone as separated from politics like her do?
How humiliating.
Elizabeth had known from the start that she wasn't fit to be Maiden, and yet she'd let Norrell and Sylvia talk her into being paraded around as a possibility, not thinking about what would happen when she-- surprise surprise!-- wasn't. Landing in the water after being harassed hadn't been so great either, and Norrell's reaction (or really, lack thereof) spoke volumes. He probably would have preferred that she'd drowned quietly, wouldn't he?
She's been staying away from the circle, embarrassed and feeling betrayal she probably had no business feeling. And used, that was the worst feeling of all. They'd used her. Just like in Virginia.
But what was she supposed to do? These were the people who were supposed to protect her, and instead they're parading her around like a show pony with a big 'KILL ME' sign around her neck. Leaving would be suicide, and who else would teach her how to use her power? Not Circle Midnight, obviously. So she had to, somehow, make her own situation tenable.
[A - Early February]
But how? She didn't know anyone, she intentionally stayed out of things if she could help it, unless it involved keeping people alive. February is still freezing by her standards, but the only way to get her mind quiet is to run. So she starts jogging at the park near her dorm-- she's pretty fast on her own, even when she's dressed for the cold weather. As she runs, she goes back and forth in her head. How fast, realistically, would she be crushed if she actually stood up to Norrell?
[B - Mid February, for Illya]
As much as she thought about it, she could really only speculate about the outcomes. She needs someone who will be painfully blunt with her, and fortunately she actually knows someone like that. Who she just happens to have a certain potion for-- at least something good came from assisting Norrell at Croydon again. Elizabeth sends Illya a text and waits at the deli they'd last met at, mostly staring out the window and waiting instead of drinking her coffee.
[C - Late February]
It's really the only option available to her, she thinks as she downs another shot. Elizabeth is young and inexperienced, but she isn't dumb. Norrell assured her assistance at first because she thought the same kind of loyalty would be extended to her, and the second time he'd bought her fair and square. But the incident on the boat is decidedly unforgivable. He's a jackass is what he is. What kind of leader just watched his student struggle to not drown?
Not again. She'd be damned if she let herself be moved around a board like a chess piece by Gilbert Norrell again.
...Not that she is one-hundred percent sure of what she's going to do or how she's going to go about it, but that's something for a night that's not the one she's decided to quietly rebel against her mentor. Right now, she's enjoying some drinking and dancing away from her roommate. Just remembering what it's like to live free for a night.
What: A crisis of conscience. But what can someone as separated from politics like her do?
How humiliating.
Elizabeth had known from the start that she wasn't fit to be Maiden, and yet she'd let Norrell and Sylvia talk her into being paraded around as a possibility, not thinking about what would happen when she-- surprise surprise!-- wasn't. Landing in the water after being harassed hadn't been so great either, and Norrell's reaction (or really, lack thereof) spoke volumes. He probably would have preferred that she'd drowned quietly, wouldn't he?
She's been staying away from the circle, embarrassed and feeling betrayal she probably had no business feeling. And used, that was the worst feeling of all. They'd used her. Just like in Virginia.
But what was she supposed to do? These were the people who were supposed to protect her, and instead they're parading her around like a show pony with a big 'KILL ME' sign around her neck. Leaving would be suicide, and who else would teach her how to use her power? Not Circle Midnight, obviously. So she had to, somehow, make her own situation tenable.
[A - Early February]
But how? She didn't know anyone, she intentionally stayed out of things if she could help it, unless it involved keeping people alive. February is still freezing by her standards, but the only way to get her mind quiet is to run. So she starts jogging at the park near her dorm-- she's pretty fast on her own, even when she's dressed for the cold weather. As she runs, she goes back and forth in her head. How fast, realistically, would she be crushed if she actually stood up to Norrell?
[B - Mid February, for Illya]
As much as she thought about it, she could really only speculate about the outcomes. She needs someone who will be painfully blunt with her, and fortunately she actually knows someone like that. Who she just happens to have a certain potion for-- at least something good came from assisting Norrell at Croydon again. Elizabeth sends Illya a text and waits at the deli they'd last met at, mostly staring out the window and waiting instead of drinking her coffee.
[C - Late February]
It's really the only option available to her, she thinks as she downs another shot. Elizabeth is young and inexperienced, but she isn't dumb. Norrell assured her assistance at first because she thought the same kind of loyalty would be extended to her, and the second time he'd bought her fair and square. But the incident on the boat is decidedly unforgivable. He's a jackass is what he is. What kind of leader just watched his student struggle to not drown?
Not again. She'd be damned if she let herself be moved around a board like a chess piece by Gilbert Norrell again.
...Not that she is one-hundred percent sure of what she's going to do or how she's going to go about it, but that's something for a night that's not the one she's decided to quietly rebel against her mentor. Right now, she's enjoying some drinking and dancing away from her roommate. Just remembering what it's like to live free for a night.
no subject
After all, Gilbert Norrell would very much like to make a difference! To make magic respectable! Elizabeth has probably heard him professing the importance of respectable magic before, clean practical magic! Magic which, of course, does not venture anywhere too adventurous nor too dark -- and certainly not at all anywhere near anything fae.
no subject
"Do you still have your house in York? Maybe you could, I don't know, take vacations there or something."
no subject
He looks wistful at the thought. The seclusion is something he misses greatly, in truth, and the pleasure in simply being able to do his own thing! Not too many visitors, not too distraction and bother.
no subject
Vacation. Vacation. She's American and it's a vacation, as everybody in America says.
"I've read some articles online that say if you don't take time to rejuvenate, take time off from work and do things you like to do, your stress levels can decrease your productivity."
no subject
He must, after all, defend his seat. The fact that he won it before via somewhat underhand methods also means he has never had to formally stand for election before. It is sure to be unpleasant as an experience for him, since he detests parties and mingling so much.
no subject
Night Council elections.
...fun.
"Maybe afterwards?" So she wouldn't have to endure reminder after reminder that he'd triumphed and was about to 'make a difference' in the magical community and what a great burden he had taken on for the good of all, et cetera, et cetera...
no subject
One which Norrell would be happy to use, of course.