Post by Levedara on Sept 25, 2010 14:35:07 GMT -5
// sadly previous posts were lost to that forum hiccup!
As she has for some time, a small woman consistently dressed in frosty green and grey spends her day moving through the library of the Academy. Under her quiet attention the pile of damaged and worn books has dwindled, old tomes finding their way back to the shelves where they belong.
Seemingly at the request of Darkharp, for this is what she states if questioned, she carefully reorders a few sections making them more intuitive for searching through, and she spends a great deal of time simply moving through the shelves to find any misplaced texts. Now and then she plucks a book or two after inspection and adds them to the back table that contains books in need of attention. Now and then she timidly asks students that, should they find a damaged book, or an accident occur, that they put the books on the side table rather than returning them, or bring them to her to be seen to.
The quiet woman rarely offers her name, unless directly asked, and in conversation she is short, often pausing with um's and uh's as she stumbles through her words, clearly preferring to interact with pages over people. She offers awkward nods to students she slowly comes to recognize, but seems to be happy to keep to herself.
Much of her time is spent in the workshop behind the dressing room, where she sits at Darkharp's own workbench to patiently treat and restore tomes for hours at a time. Now and then she takes books back and copies from them onto her own blank books and pamphlets. She doesn't try to hide her work, though she certainly doesn't share it. Any that pass by her workstation could peek over her shoulder to see what it entails.
Almost always wearing gloves of a sort, soft white cotton when working with restoring books, simple green cloths otherwise, her hands when revealed are terribly scarred and it is plain to see that her work on the texts greatly pains them, given the oft times she leans back to regard them with a grimace, taking off her gloves to inspect the fresh cracks in the deep scars, that seem unable to heal properly given their heavy use.
As she has for some time, a small woman consistently dressed in frosty green and grey spends her day moving through the library of the Academy. Under her quiet attention the pile of damaged and worn books has dwindled, old tomes finding their way back to the shelves where they belong.
Seemingly at the request of Darkharp, for this is what she states if questioned, she carefully reorders a few sections making them more intuitive for searching through, and she spends a great deal of time simply moving through the shelves to find any misplaced texts. Now and then she plucks a book or two after inspection and adds them to the back table that contains books in need of attention. Now and then she timidly asks students that, should they find a damaged book, or an accident occur, that they put the books on the side table rather than returning them, or bring them to her to be seen to.
The quiet woman rarely offers her name, unless directly asked, and in conversation she is short, often pausing with um's and uh's as she stumbles through her words, clearly preferring to interact with pages over people. She offers awkward nods to students she slowly comes to recognize, but seems to be happy to keep to herself.
Much of her time is spent in the workshop behind the dressing room, where she sits at Darkharp's own workbench to patiently treat and restore tomes for hours at a time. Now and then she takes books back and copies from them onto her own blank books and pamphlets. She doesn't try to hide her work, though she certainly doesn't share it. Any that pass by her workstation could peek over her shoulder to see what it entails.
Almost always wearing gloves of a sort, soft white cotton when working with restoring books, simple green cloths otherwise, her hands when revealed are terribly scarred and it is plain to see that her work on the texts greatly pains them, given the oft times she leans back to regard them with a grimace, taking off her gloves to inspect the fresh cracks in the deep scars, that seem unable to heal properly given their heavy use.