#societyarchivist

[tinfoiltemplar]

"I want you to keep using the crutches for a few days, until you can put weight on it, alright? That's what the book said- your muscles have atrophied." Kneeling, Lucy carefully unwound the many lengths of cotton gauze that had served as splint around his leg. Based upon her observations of his progress, she believed the bone to have mended. "How's your pain? Still good? If it hurts at all you have to tell me." {societyarchivist}

“Right, crutches.” Or... sort of crutches. Crutches sometimes. One crutch. He’d already been trying to put some weight on the splinted leg, especially for some new activities, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. It would only cause problems and change nothing for either of them. His leg was cold now without the many lavers of bandage and he wished he could put on layers of tall socks to compensate for it. “It aches, but most of me aches still. And my body aches anyways.”

She really was a good nurse. Would she have liked to have been a nurse? If she’d been allowed to be anything in the world? Back when she still had the world in front of her?

“You’re very good at this, you know. Gentle, kind, bright, attentive to details.”

[metalzerotruck]

@societyarchivist (from here):

@metalzerotruck

    ♥— “Where am I?”

Lucy’s voice sounded weak even to her- her throat dry. She felt awful- as though a wrecking ball had struck her in the chest, making her feel short of breath.

The man beside her seemed familiar, and there was a dull ache in her arm. Opening her eyes revealed sterile, white walls and the gleaming glass IV bottle hung above her.

  “You.. I know you… from St. Mary’s library…”

For a while, Truck simply watched the young woman sleep, contemplating how frail she looked in the hospital bed. He had always known she was small, of course, but he would not have called her frail until now. Maybe not even now, if she had merely had a spell like anyone might, but from what he could read on the faces of those attending her--who would tell him little more than nothing--there was something wrong with her that neither smelling salts nor a stiff drink could fix.

It unsettled him to think about, and after a while he turned his attention to the irregular rhythm of the rain as it beat against the window panes. Time passed, and as his clothes dried and warmth returned, Truck began almost to doze off, though real sleep eluded him.

When she spoke, though, he roused himself with an intake of breath and sat back up from where he had slumped in the inhospitably small and hard visitors’ chair. “Well, it isn’t the Savoy, sorry to say,” he answered wryly. Concern kept Truck’s smile away from his eyes; she hardly seemed less fragile awake than she had asleep.

“Right you are. Truck Ross. And you are Miss West, which is about all I could tell the doctors. Wasn’t even sure how to track down your family; that’s why I stayed. I wanted to make sure you were alright, but... pardon my saying, but I don’t think you are.”

[professor-of-predators]

@societyarchivist From: [X] 

It really was her! Jane blinked at her former superior for a moment. She looked . . . Jane wasn’t sure there was a word for how Lucy looked. She certainly dind’t look like herself. 

“You, changed your hair.” Jane finally said, her voice lame and quiet, a poor cover for the concern, confusion, and curiosity she was feeling. “What, have you been up to?” 

[secondhandmckie]

@societyarchivist

It was a relief to wander outside the Society’s walls; after all, the last she’d done so there had been a war. Her step was measured and tentative, but continued to strengthen the more she moved, determined to make it to her destination. And, rather than knock on the cottage door, she simply slipped inside, closing it behind her, loudly enough to alert to her presence.

“Lucy?”She called, a gnawing fear working her mechanical heart. The office hadn’t been ransacked, but it was so unlike her petite Lucy that it brought forward the very worst scenarios in her mind. If she’d been hurt..

“Lu?”

[eilidhink]

"I want to get a tattoo. I don't know what I want. Do you perhaps have a book of suggestions?" {societyarchivist}

Eilidh perked up, eyes brightening at the question. I don’t know what I want was one of her favorite things to hear from a potential client, an admission full of possibilities and promise.

“I’ve got a whole library,” she promised; between the books and portfolios at the shop and her own collection at home, she wasn’t far off. “And I’ve got loads of ideas, but let’s start with you. What makes you want one?”

[morpheoussilvercreature]

Muses as Arthurian Characters

Lucy West as Elaine of Corbenic

Elaine of Corbenic may be the most important Arthurian woman that you’ve never heard of. The daughter of the King of Pelles, Elaine is a fairytale princess in every way. Beautiful, pure, part of a prophesy, and on the wrong side of a witch. She has been entrusted with the keeping and protection of the Holy Grail (hence her being known as the Grail Maiden) as in tradition in arthurian lore holds with women being entrusted with the keeping of any objects of great power or value. While this is Elaine’s greatest office, she is also known very well as the wife (?) of Lancelot and the mother of Galahad, the greatest of knights, who will be the only one capable of procuring the Grail. This happens through Elaine and her maid tricking a drunk Lancelot into thinking he is spending the night with Guinevere, however Elaine the next morning manages to turn Lancelot’s rage into softness, and later to convince him to leave Camelot for a time to aid in the raising of his son.

Elaine is a complex character even with the little that we know of her. She pure and virtuous enough to be trusted with the guarding of the Holy Grail, but also desperate enough to allow her unrequited love for Lancelot to cloud her judgement and cause her to trick him into sleeping with her. More than once. She is kind enough to raise the best knight of all and to defend Lancelot to Guinevere even against her own happiness, but also selfish enough to do things that she knows will make the man she loves unhappy for her own joy. In the end Elaine turns her loneliness into wisdom and in some accounts it leads to an early death.

Lucy West is a complicated young woman. On the outside she is innocent and soft, all tender heart and unrequited love. A daydreamer with an unfortunate every approaching mortality, you can’t help but love her. She is bright and trustworthy- she doesn’t have to keep the Holy Grail, but as keeper of the Dee Archives there are plenty of secrets that she has been entrusted with that most people are not ready to hear. However while sometimes her being alone can make her frustrated or her coming death can cause her to act out in the end she is the kind of person who will sacrifice her own happiness for that of the people she cares about. 

Because in the end, Lucy is supposed to be a hero, just like Elaine.

[reprcbates-retired]

@societyarchivist

  “Oh, like that time you attacked me and drank    my blood and infected me with Llamia-whatsit?”

    “But I made sure you survived afterwards.      Also, I love you...so there’s that.”

[metalzerotruck]

Hampered in her travels by the rain, Lucy felt exhaustion begin to take its toll. She only had to make it to the end of the street- there she might find a taxi to take her home. Her wool skirt was wet and heavy, clinging coldly to her legs. Lucy's steps faltered as her heart skipped and stuttered. Her umbrella fell to the sidewalk from numb fingers, and for a moment she simply looked surprised. Then she crumpled; the sound muted by the rain. {societyarchivist}

He’d been several weeks in the city now, not by choice but by necessity, and it had him on edge. This place was not conducive to his temperament, and the rain that would be refreshing in the countryside here seemed oppressive, as if the streets could fill and drown the city with ease. Still, he brightened when he noticed the kind librarian walking ahead of him; she would be good company on a day like this, and he had been meaning to talk to her about–

Truck was already picking up his pace to catch up to her when he realized something was wrong. At first he thought it was merely the wind making mischief with her umbrella, but then she vanished out of sight. Truck broke into a run, ending on his knees at her side, his umbrella held over her all but uselessly.

“Miss West?” No response. He felt quickly for a pulse in her small wrist, but he couldn’t be certain that what he felt was a heartbeat at all. People continued to walk around the pair of them, casting sour looks that Truck couldn’t be bothered to notice. After a moment’s thought, he shook his head. “Pardon the familiarity,” he said quietly, the ghost of a polite smile crossing his lips as he lifted her in his arms.

It wasn’t until Lucy was safely ensconced at the hospital that Truck noticed how thoroughly soaked he was. He briefly considered returning to his rooms to change, but he would hate for her to wake up alone. The doctors keeping their own counsel about her condition only made him more inclined to stay, and he finally settled for draping his coat and jacket over a radiator so that they could dry somewhat. His hat, dripping slightly, sat between them, and Truck himself moved a chair close to her bedside, to be at hand if she needed him.