lu-the-illusion

[lu-the-illusion]

Their eyes light up with child-like wonder as she explains, nodding along and murmuring the instructions after her.

“That makes… a lot of sense, actually.” They place their brownie on top of the basket, considerably more interested in the game than in eating it. They idly fiddle with their half of the deck, spinning the cards as they work out how a game would go in their head. “Well explained, Archivist, thank you.”

They place the cards back down, flipping the one on the top over. Seven of diamonds. “So, do we just start?”

There is a knock on the Archivist’s door; accompanying it is a sweet, almost cinnamon-y smell, like what you’d expect in a bakery. The door opens ever so slightly, and someone pokes their head in through the crack. They seem vaguely familiar, wearing a magician’s hat and an almost manic grin, though they look to be in high school at the very oldest.

The person steps in fully, and it’s now apparent that they’re wearing a full (and incredibly dramatic looking) magician outfit, complete with cards tucked into the band of their hat and a wand poking out of their pocket. They’re also carrying a picnic basket, which Elena guesses is where the smell is coming from. The basket is set on the ground in front of her desk while the figure leans idly against it, finally speaking.

“Hullo, Archivist,” they greet, their voice laced with slight amusement.

— @lu-the-illusion

this did not take an hour because I forgot how to write trust trust

(I also did not proofread this bear with me)

The Archivist looks up from her work, raising an eyebrow. She’s weary, but gently pushes her swivel chair back from the desk.

“Good evening,”

She replies, voice purposely exempt from tone.

“What do you have there?”

She decides not to make comments about the magician’s appearance. She doesn’t have much room to talk, the summer heat leaving her in an old partner’s t-shirt that hangs off her shoulder and light blue jeans. Even with the Institute’s totally state-of-the-art AC system (so expensive and posh that it creaks ominously every five minutes or so and leaves a weird smell around the Archives), she feels beads of sweat on the back of her neck.

[lu-the-illusion]

Lu blinks at her for a moment, seemingly startled that she’d offer to do something like that. They snap out of it quickly, shaking their head with a slightly nervous laugh. “Are you quite sure, Archivist?” They inquire, tilting their head slightly and watching the way she shuffles the cards. “I’ll warn you, I’m not a fast learner. It may take me a while to grasp.”

There is a knock on the Archivist’s door; accompanying it is a sweet, almost cinnamon-y smell, like what you’d expect in a bakery. The door opens ever so slightly, and someone pokes their head in through the crack. They seem vaguely familiar, wearing a magician’s hat and an almost manic grin, though they look to be in high school at the very oldest.

The person steps in fully, and it’s now apparent that they’re wearing a full (and incredibly dramatic looking) magician outfit, complete with cards tucked into the band of their hat and a wand poking out of their pocket. They’re also carrying a picnic basket, which Elena guesses is where the smell is coming from. The basket is set on the ground in front of her desk while the figure leans idly against it, finally speaking.

“Hullo, Archivist,” they greet, their voice laced with slight amusement.

— @lu-the-illusion

this did not take an hour because I forgot how to write trust trust

(I also did not proofread this bear with me)

The Archivist looks up from her work, raising an eyebrow. She’s weary, but gently pushes her swivel chair back from the desk.

“Good evening,”

She replies, voice purposely exempt from tone.

“What do you have there?”

She decides not to make comments about the magician’s appearance. She doesn’t have much room to talk, the summer heat leaving her in an old partner’s t-shirt that hangs off her shoulder and light blue jeans. Even with the Institute’s totally state-of-the-art AC system (so expensive and posh that it creaks ominously every five minutes or so and leaves a weird smell around the Archives), she feels beads of sweat on the back of her neck.

[lu-the-illusion]

They take out the pie, a plate, and a plastic knife, cutting a slice for Elena.

“War? Can’t say I know that one.” They slide the piece of pie onto the plate, passing it over along with a plastic fork. “Though, I don’t know many card games at all, haha! Rather embarrassing, isn’t it? Doing what I do and being unfamiliar with something like that.”

They wrap the pie in aluminum foil before putting it back into the basket, grabbing a brownie for themself and placing the container down again.

There is a knock on the Archivist’s door; accompanying it is a sweet, almost cinnamon-y smell, like what you’d expect in a bakery. The door opens ever so slightly, and someone pokes their head in through the crack. They seem vaguely familiar, wearing a magician’s hat and an almost manic grin, though they look to be in high school at the very oldest.

The person steps in fully, and it’s now apparent that they’re wearing a full (and incredibly dramatic looking) magician outfit, complete with cards tucked into the band of their hat and a wand poking out of their pocket. They’re also carrying a picnic basket, which Elena guesses is where the smell is coming from. The basket is set on the ground in front of her desk while the figure leans idly against it, finally speaking.

“Hullo, Archivist,” they greet, their voice laced with slight amusement.

— @lu-the-illusion

this did not take an hour because I forgot how to write trust trust

(I also did not proofread this bear with me)

The Archivist looks up from her work, raising an eyebrow. She’s weary, but gently pushes her swivel chair back from the desk.

“Good evening,”

She replies, voice purposely exempt from tone.

“What do you have there?”

She decides not to make comments about the magician’s appearance. She doesn’t have much room to talk, the summer heat leaving her in an old partner’s t-shirt that hangs off her shoulder and light blue jeans. Even with the Institute’s totally state-of-the-art AC system (so expensive and posh that it creaks ominously every five minutes or so and leaves a weird smell around the Archives), she feels beads of sweat on the back of her neck.

[lu-the-illusion]

They pick the basket up, sitting down in a chair and opening it. “I’ve got apple pie, cookies, a few brownies, and— muffins? Don’t remember making those, but alright.” They shrug, grin still plastered onto their face, and offer the basket to Elena.

“Take anything. Got plates and utensils, if you need them.”

There is a knock on the Archivist’s door; accompanying it is a sweet, almost cinnamon-y smell, like what you’d expect in a bakery. The door opens ever so slightly, and someone pokes their head in through the crack. They seem vaguely familiar, wearing a magician’s hat and an almost manic grin, though they look to be in high school at the very oldest.

The person steps in fully, and it’s now apparent that they’re wearing a full (and incredibly dramatic looking) magician outfit, complete with cards tucked into the band of their hat and a wand poking out of their pocket. They’re also carrying a picnic basket, which Elena guesses is where the smell is coming from. The basket is set on the ground in front of her desk while the figure leans idly against it, finally speaking.

“Hullo, Archivist,” they greet, their voice laced with slight amusement.

— @lu-the-illusion

this did not take an hour because I forgot how to write trust trust

(I also did not proofread this bear with me)

The Archivist looks up from her work, raising an eyebrow. She’s weary, but gently pushes her swivel chair back from the desk.

“Good evening,”

She replies, voice purposely exempt from tone.

“What do you have there?”

She decides not to make comments about the magician’s appearance. She doesn’t have much room to talk, the summer heat leaving her in an old partner’s t-shirt that hangs off her shoulder and light blue jeans. Even with the Institute’s totally state-of-the-art AC system (so expensive and posh that it creaks ominously every five minutes or so and leaves a weird smell around the Archives), she feels beads of sweat on the back of her neck.

[lu-the-illusion]

Wonderful! I’ll be over soon!! See you in a little bit, Archivist! :))

Hulloooo Archivist :>>>>> Would you like baked goods?

— @lu-the-illusion

Hello Lu,

…What is the catch for your baked goods?

— E. Honeysett, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Washington, D.C.

[lu-the-illusion]

Welllll, there’s no catch here!! I just like baking :>>> Any allergies??

Hulloooo Archivist :>>>>> Would you like baked goods?

— @lu-the-illusion

Hello Lu,

…What is the catch for your baked goods?

— E. Honeysett, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Washington, D.C.

[lu-the-illusion]

Catch? Why must there be a catch, Archivist? Can’t a thing do something nice for once? :)))))

Hulloooo Archivist :>>>>> Would you like baked goods?

— @lu-the-illusion

Hello Lu,

…What is the catch for your baked goods?

— E. Honeysett, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Washington, D.C.

[lu-the-illusion]

oNce . iT wAS nOt vErY pLeASanT .

What do you MEAN the door doesn't exist???

[lu-the-illusion]

yOU’re iMpOsSIblE .

What do you MEAN the door doesn't exist???

[lu-the-illusion]

wE’Re fReAkS wiTh dOOrs, noT aBoUT tHem ! tHe tErM DiSTorTiOn maY bE MOrE acCurAte :)))

What do you MEAN the door doesn't exist???

[lu-the-illusion]

“dOoR fREaK” sEEmS rAtHer MEaN, ArChIVisT .

What do you MEAN the door doesn't exist???

[lu-the-illusion]

"eXaCTly ! lIke… chOrES . iF yOu’rE toLd tO dO iT, it’S juST anOtHer tAsk ."

It places the papers back onto the desk, though all are out of order.

"bUT iT’s fUn uNPrOmPTed !"

Elena is sat in her office, buried in mounds of paperwork… What a shame it would be if someone were to disturb her?

[lu-the-illusion]

It reaches up for its hat before sighing, dropping its hand and making an exaggerated sound of disappointment.

"rEaLLy, ArCHIvIsT, iT isn’T aNy fUN iF yOU’rE tElLinG mE tO sENd yOu ."

It huffs, sliding off of the desk and picking the papers back up.

"nO fUn aT aLl."

Elena is sat in her office, buried in mounds of paperwork… What a shame it would be if someone were to disturb her?

[lu-the-illusion]

It gives an almost childish laugh of glee, though distorted almost beyond recognition.

"i’M dOiNG wONdERfUlLy ! :>>>> iN faCt, i’Ve beEn remInisCIng oN oNE oF mY faVoRiTe tRickS ! yOU wOulDn’t hApPen tO haVe a sTAteMenT oN tHaT, wOUlD yOu ?"

It gives another too-wide grin, kicking its legs over the edge of the desk idly.

Elena is sat in her office, buried in mounds of paperwork… What a shame it would be if someone were to disturb her?

[lu-the-illusion]

grrrr go back to school lu !!!! /silly

bAcK tO scHOol ? whY eVEr wOUlD I dO tHaT ? i’M hArdLy a cHiLD, noW, aM I ?

[lu-the-illusion]

I wanna talk about how Lu is technically still a child. like. It hasn’t aged since becoming an avatar and that was when it was around 14/15

as much as it acts older or changes it’s appearance to seem as such, Lu is a child that fucked around and found out

I heart Lu short for— oh wait can’t tell you that

anyways yeah it’s a child technically thought I’d drop that tidbit while I think of things to write

[lu-the-illusion]

"oH, I jUsT waNtEd sOmEOnE tO taLK tO ! I dIdn’T meAn tO coMe tO tHis aRchiVe, tHoUGh . bUt yOU sEem lIkE lOveLy cOmpaNy ! :)))"

The door shrinks into a single playing card, and it picks it up and places it beneath its hat. After that, it sits on her desk, pushing many most likely important papers out of the way.

"hOw aRe yoU toDaY, aNyWAys ?"

Elena is sat in her office, buried in mounds of paperwork… What a shame it would be if someone were to disturb her?