undergrounds | [Open] I'm Not the Same Kid From Your Memory

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[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.

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Norrell himself is bundled up heavily against the cold, hurrying along through it with a small stack of folders clutched to his chest. He has plenty to do what with this blow to his cause, and little enough time to do it in.

When he spots Elizabeth he pauses, frowns slightly before changing direction to intercept her.

"Miss DeWitt!" he calls out, hurrying faster to try and catch up with her. "Miss DeWitt! One moment!"

You could keep running. Just keep running. Straight into the river or the ocean, whichever comes first.

Elizabeth slows down, partially because she's used to deferring to Norrell, partially because it's just bizarre that she was thinking about him and now he's right here.

"Good morning, Mr. Norrell," Elizabeth tries to appear bright and cheerful as he closes the distance between them. "You need help with all of that?"

What else was she going to comment on, after all?

Help? He blinks looks down at his folders then shakes his head and tightens his grip.

"No, no! I am quite at home with carrying my own files! I wished only to express my sympathy! It is not at all right that Abigail has stolen your title from you! Oh, they might say that she fulfilled the signs but we both know she is not at all right for the role! I would not be surprised if it was some ploy by her Circle! I begun looking into it directly that I heard, and you can be sure that if anything can be done before the official passing of the title in March it will be!"

He smiles at her, seemingly thinking this is reassuring. To him, it would be! He would never stand for being overlooked in such a way.

Sympathy? How about he express some sympathy for being pawed by that lecherous witch? No of course not, that wouldn't get him anywhere.

"If there's anything that can be done, Mr. Norrell, I'm sure you'll do it," she says with a smile. "I'm honestly curious as to how you're going to go about it, though, the signs seemed very clear."

That would be crude, Elizabeth! His smile stays fixed, pleased with her assurance.

"Oh, they did, very clear indeed -- perhaps too clear. I have wondered if perhaps there was some arrangement made beforehand, if the matter was handled dishonestly!"

A very strong and alarming suggestion, of course, but equally one he has not voiced too loudly just yet for that very reason. He lofts his eyebrows at her.

"It seems to me it was very suspicious that Miss Widdowson managed to make her way aboard the vessel when she was not even invited, for one thing. Very suspicious! She may well have had inside assistance to make her fit to the sign!"

Elizabeth can't stop the look of flat skepticism before it makes it to her face.

"So you're saying the previous Maiden and Circle Midnight somehow conspired to put Abigail in the position?" That seems incredibly likely-- not. "And get her into the party?" That's perhaps a little more reasonable. As is this apparent revelation that Abigail was intentionally kept away from the event. She can't even be shocked at this point at the hypocrisy of it-- crying foul when he and Sylvia Redbright had played their own game trying to twist things into their favor. But this has no doubt always been going on, and Elizabeth just refused to look at it because it would mean she'd have to look at it.

"And I suppose she could have lied about having been born on Samhain, right?" It isn't like there aren't dozens of records, probably, of her being born then. If anything, they'd reached to claim Elizabeth had some strong connection to some important day.

"The world of politics can be a confusing place, Miss DeWitt, often people are not as honest as they seem! I myself have been surprised on many occasions by the behaviour of those I thought honest or respectable!"

It is not hypocrisy to Norrell, of course, because he so firmly believes himself in the right. He is doing what is best for magic, for Great Britain! It is one of those 'greater good' situations, Elizabeth! He will of course understand if her young mind and delicate female temperament finds this all objectionable and confusing.

If Elizabeth could hear prose, she would have thrown up a little in her mouth. Having been at the center of a great deal of 'Politics' and 'Dishonesty' and 'Disreputable Behavior', she's fairly certain that she would know it when she saw it. But then again, Norrell apparently pulled the wool over her eyes for quite a while, probably because she wanted so desperately to believe that somebody, anybody cared about her.

"You don't say."

"Oh, absolutely! It is a sad thing. I must confess, I labour under a disadvantage myself. I am a scholar, Miss DeWitt, not a politician. I cannot abide to sit and talk, debate, as some do. To make smalltalk with strangers and connections. Yet this lot has fallen to me, and so it is that I have done my best to try and learn -- although I heartily wish it had fallen to someone else!"

He offers Elizabeth a sad smile, as if she might at this point pity him for the terrible hardships he endures so nobly.

Such hardships he endures from the comfortable chair he sits in while preventing people from returning to their homes. There's so much wrong with the depiction of Norrell's suffering, Elizabeth can hardly stand it. But as honest as Elizabeth tries to be, she just can't. Not right now. She sighs quietly and puts a hand on her mentor's shoulder.

"You seem to handle it so well, though! If I'd known you were struggling, I would have offered to help more."

"Oh! You are so kind," he says, and covers her hand with one of his own -- offers her a smile despite his great suffering. "But the burden must be mine, and mine alone! I have begun this great journey, and now I must see it through! We have made so much progress, corrected laws and sent the fae into hiding. We are closing to reclaiming London, and I have no doubt now that it can be done! We will see London safe, Miss DeWitt, and magic will be a great power once more. I can promise you that."

"And that's all I hope for, of course." Not, you know, her safety or her education or anything like that. Taking all of London for Daybreak. Because obviously that's the only answer to everything.

"Well, all the same, obviously if you need my help with something all you have to do is ask."

"I will be sure to!" he says to her, perhaps making her instantly regret her words. "You are learning well, Miss DeWitt! I must admit, I used to be unsure of how headstrong you were -- but I can see you have begun to understand the way of things! It brings me great pleasure to see a pupil of mine doing so well, great pleasure! We will see this wrong fixed, I assure you."

No, as stomach-turning as this conversation is, Elizabeth can't feel regret over it. She disagrees with his treatment of a group of people in their magical community and she objects to being treated like a pawn-- but she can't just blow up the bridge between them, flip him the double bird and walk away. She needs Daybreak, she needs to stay protected, she needs to be in control. She might need his trust later on.

So she smiles, warm and feminine, and doesn't disagree out loud.

"Oh my father said the same thing before I came here-- that's just how I am! Full of youthful enthusiasm and inexperience, right? But we all learn someday." People had youth and enthusiasm stamped out of them if they didn't cling to it. At the very least, she wasn't going to start hating her life so soon.

"Ah, yes. I suppose it is the way of things! I was young myself once, after all! Oh, I remember things well enough."

He thins his lips and nods at that, and something about his demeanour says it is not a happy memory he recalls. Still, he seems to shake it off and smiles at her again -- pats her hand again gently.

"Turn your enthusiasm to learning and you will find everything you need, I am sure of it! I have written up some more notes for you -- have you had a chance to look through my annotations on Sutton-Grove yet? It is soon to be a quite topical subject, with the new laws, you should be sure you know it!"

Shockingly, the look Norrell gets on his face when he mentions being young gives Elizabeth pause-- not because it's hard for her to believe Norrell was once young and maybe just a little less of an arrogant prick (some things just were learned with age...), but because he looks... sad. Genuinely sad.

That all comes crashing down at the word 'annotations'.

"No, not yet. I'm still... recovering from the excitement surrounding the Maiden selection. I can't stand going to the Circle and seeing everyone looking so disappointed..."

Can't stand them staring at her, more like it.

Norrell's brow furrows in sympathy and he nods at that, because of course. It must be such a disappoint, for everyone and for her! Not only to be passed over, but for a Midnight witch too! A Widdowson! Oh, it is the worst sort of tragedy!

"I understand," he says, quite earnestly too. "It must be difficult. Perhaps you would be more comfortable if you were to come to see me in Mayfair, or perhaps at the Night Council offices? Ah, I could show you my library! Perhaps that would take your mind off things?"

Library.

Shoot, Norrell really did know how to get her legitimate attention. She loves libraries-- magical libraries especially. They always had the strangest, most unique things in them. And while Norrell's might be a little less exciting, it would still be a library.

"That... probably would, yes," she says with a hesitant little smile. "Only if it's not an inconvenience, though."

"Not at all!" he counters cheerfully, "I should like it very much!"

After all, so dull as Norrell is as a man himself his library is a wonder to behold. The largest collection of magical texts in the United Kingdom, magical and on the topic of magic both, for Gilbert Norrell is a hoarder when it comes to books. He collects them in a miserly fashion and is very careful about who he lets read them. After all, Norrell does not only collect books he agrees with -- his knowledge must include absolutely everything, even that which he dislikes!

"Oh..." It's hard for Elizabeth to not be blindsided by Norrell's enthusiasm over sharing his library. For the most part, she'd thought he was a man who just enjoyed going on and on about his own opinions and beliefs and struggles. But... apparently he'd like her to visit his library?

It actually makes her feel a little bad about all of the snide comments she's been making in her head.

"Well, if it's not inconvenient, I'd very much like it too!"

What Elizabeth does not consider, of course, is that by taking her to his library he might tell her all about books which he disagrees with and books which share his opinions. The question of how freely he will let her read his books is also another thing entirely, for it is a struggle for him to share much of anything -- books especially.

"Then it shall be done!" he exclaims, "I will have some tea and chocolate arranged, and perhaps some biscuits. Oh, but I do understand the need for a little quiet! I myself often long for York! The houses in London are so small, Miss DeWitt! I have had to leave so many books behind! In York everything is much less noisy and expensive, and you might easily pass a week of study with not another soul to disturb you! You can imagine how surprised I was when I bought a house here!"

...A week away from London with only Mr. Norrell and his library as company.

She really hopes he's not planning on taking her all the way to York, and is just suggesting she visit his 'small' house in London. "Can't be smaller than my dorm room, ha ha..."

Her dorm room is like a closet. If there was an earthquake, her shelf wouldn't fall onto her bed, it would hit the wall opposite first.

"Why did you move here if you like York better? Is the magical community bigger here?" That seems to be the easiest explanation, but Elizabeth has never seen York so how should she know?

"Oh, very much so! And of course London is the heart of the Night Council! It is where laws for all of England are made, where the most difference can be made!"

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.

Ah. Well. That would make sense for Norrell. Get in where the political-getting is good, where he can scrape together as much power as possible and bend the ear of the most influential people. However...

"Do you still have your house in York? Maybe you could, I don't know, take vacations there or something."

"I do! I could not possibly sell Hurtfew Abbey! I still have so many books there, so much furniture! No, no, I could not sell. Yet I do wish I had more time for holidays, as you say! It would be nice to return there! Oh, the amount of study I could get done!"

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.

[Open] I'm Not the Same Kid From Your Memory

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