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Post by Levedara on Jun 6, 2010 21:08:54 GMT -5
A small woman can be seen sorting through the piles of damaged and worn books that had been piled in a back corner of the public library. Her gloved hands carefully turn pages as she assesses the state of the tomes and slowly begins arranging the collection. She makes several piles over the course of a few hours, looking through the books one by one. Eventually she takes two tomes and moves them to the main table.
After laying down the tomes she visits the workrooms behind the theater and returns with blot cloths, several loose papers, extra quills and ink. Laying out the tools of her trade she takes a long survey of the two books in front of her, opening both to their first pages.
She can be witnessed to test several of the quills, wetting them and testing her hand on her blank pages, dabbing them on the blot cloth, before after a time of practice she moves her attention to the pages in front of her. With careful dedication she slowly begins tracing her dark, delicate strokes over top the faded text, reviving pages faded by time.
The dark haired woman ignores everyone that passes through, seeming entirely engrossed in her work, as if the books are all there is to the word, giving new life to the pages, the only thing tying her to her own existence.
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Post by Levedara on Jun 9, 2010 20:35:03 GMT -5
The same small woman barges into the Academy in the early hours looking travel worn and exhausted. She cradles a bundle to her chest, possessively, and rapidly hauls it through the theater and to the back work rooms.
After gathering powders, liquids, basins, tongs and the like she makes a sharp smelling bath. She switches her gloves, briefly revealing scar covered hands, and recovers them with soft white cotton. Unwrapping the cloak she very gingerly removes an ancient looking tomb and lowers it into the water, letting it sit while she dusts off another table nearby. She gathers a sizable ladies fan from the prop room and then using tongs scoops the book from the treated water. She rests the book on the table and leaves it to sit, mindless of the puddle that forms on the floor under the table, waving off any protest from passing school members. After a time she moves the book and begins manually fanning it until after several hours she falls asleep in her chair, the book still closed, slowly drying while she catches up on much needed sleep.
When the woman finally awakens, startled when she nearly tumbles off her seat, she very carefully moves the book to a top cabinet near Darkharp's work area after cleaning it's surface carefully. She borrows a slab of wood and places it atop the book and sets down a few heavy tools on top of that. She gathers a roll of fabric and throws it over the pile to protect the book from light. Then she gathers a loose sheaf of paper, and scrawls on it, then affixes the note to the edge of the cabinet top, leaving a dangling sign.
"Do not touch, extremely fragile!"
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Post by Levedara on Jun 11, 2010 9:24:08 GMT -5
Returning again much more casually she manages small smiles to anyone at the Academy she passes though obviously very shy she avoids any conversation. Cutting through the theater again she heads for the work room. Her shy demeanor fades and she takes on an air of 'no nonsense', giving frowning glances at any that intrude into her 'personal space' and not hesitating to shoo people away should they attempt to interrupt for any reason.
After some cleaning and the gathering of tools, fine powders, soft bristled brushes, and a single edged razor blade, the note is torn down and the cloth removed. She takes the book down carefully and it's placed on the table near the tools, next to a heavy box.
After a time spent surveying the binding and cover she carefully lifts the cover by it's center, the razor brought up to delicately nudge the still damp first pages free as she leans it back to rest against the box, keeping strain off the binding by not opening it flat. A brush dips into the spilled pile of powder and she gently begins brushing the inside cover and first page.
She moves away to gather loose papers and an ink well, and a pair of find quills, blot paper, laying them out as well, now hogging and entire table for her workspace. Then with ginger care she begins writing notes. She dates it and, a small foot note along the left edge.
"Copy for notation and consideration From the tomb of Valindor At the behest of his guardian. ~ L.M."
Over the next several hours she carefully separates the first handful of pages, brushing each down gently with the powdered brush and letting it sit while she copies what lines of text can be read. The care the small woman takes suggests that the book is incredibly fragile and it appears to be quite old. She makes no attempts to hide the nature of the text and any that pass can see that it is written in a beautiful and delicate scripting looking to be an old dialect of elven.
She copies the readable text exactly as she can, at this time making no notes of translation. After six or so hours have passed she dusts the edges of the still closed pages with the powder she's been applying to the book and carefully closes the cover. After cleaning the cabinet top she replaces the book where she had left it before, replaces the weighed down board, and covers it all up with cloth and note again.
She takes her copied pages and stuffs them into her bag before departing the workroom to the library where she dedicates several hours to working on old books there, touching up fading text with her slow well practiced hand. Eventually she begins to fight sleep and puts her tools away and departs, quietly as she came.
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