by Isolde Seibold on June 5th, 2013, 12:06 am
Isolde wandered into the Office. After a quick, timid glance around at the number of people already establishing employment, the Nuit hurriedly grabbed a sheet of paper from the table by the door, and walked a ways away from the others --not wanting to invade their personal space-- to fill out her form. It took her about a chime to fish a piece of sharpened drawing charcoal from her pocket, and then she set to carefully filling out the paper, handwriting a bit slanted and rusty from disuse.
Name: Isolde Seibold.
Race: Nuit. ((The writing here was light and a little messier than the rest, as if she had been unwilling to write the word down.))
Age: Approx. 180 years.
Relevant Skills: Can read and write, perform calculations or other mathematics, have studied and performed minor magics.
Preferred Employment: Librarian/bookkeeper, scribe, clerk, secretary, or other similar assignment.
Expected Stay In Syliras: Indefinite, likely for at least a season or two.
After the Nuit filled out the paper, she made her way to the front desk, glancing up at the woman there and slipping the sheet onto the desk so that she might see it. Then the young-seeming woman simply took a couple steps back and stood a bit to the side, so as not to be in anyone else's way, and waited unobtrusively to be reviewed and addressed, fidgeting a little where she stood, not really knowing if there was a business that she could fit into.
There was the tiny grave holding the tiny body, and another right next to it where hope had been buried.