The Margins Collective — Prologue club pv finished

Purely informational? Kim nodded, filing this away into his mind. It was an interesting way to go about things. This first meeting appeared to simply be to discuss how future meetings would go. But why would they need to hold a meeting for this, why not simply discuss through owls? But maybe the leader wanted to interact with members in person and have things be a little bit more personal. He did like what Elena said about not being forced to speak to any others. The girl's words about having it be a place of relaxation where members could read in peace was what had drawn him to the club in the first place. The fact Elena had reiterated this in the informational meeting was a good sign, at least for him. This could be a relaxing space for him.

「 O P H E L I A date • 20 sep 2025 402 • word count speech • #427c9a italics • thoughts 」

Ophelia felt herself slip steadily into the background of the club's happenings. Which was to be expected, she supposed, as she didn't know much of the people in attendance. She knew them by face or by name, some of them, but most were strangers. The school was a large one, and even in the midst of her patrols and attendance of school activities, Ophelia was sure that she'd missed seeing quite a few of the students.

Questions were asked and answered, and the Ravenclaw slipped into a state of zone-out, her eyes present yet her mind drifting far away. That was, until a familiar face entered the scene quite late. Maisie was more of an acquaintance than a friend, in Ophelia's mind. They interacted briefly before but the fact that they'd never had much of a true conversation and that she was a year younger made her more unknown. But it seemed she, too, didn't know many here because she made her way to Ophelia and greeted her.

What did I miss was quite an open-ended question. "Er, Elena got into some of the club rules. But this is mostly an informational meeting, apparently, so you didn't miss much." That was a terrible way to sum it up, she was sure. Maisie probably understood nothing from all of that, but she couldn't take back the words now. Worst case, the fellow Ravenclaw would ask Elena for any details that she missed.

One question in particular caught Ophelia's attention. It was rougher than the others, and she looked up to recognise the speaker as Archer. She'd interacted with him a few times, though whether it was first or second year was a little fuzzy in her head. They hadn't gotten along perfectly, however, so she decided not to say anything. Better to stay a silent observer, wasn't it? She assumed he, like her, was comparing this meeting to the first of his own club a year or two prior. But while she enjoyed the concept of what he deemed "useless aesthetics," he seemed to feel the opposite way. Interesting.

When Elena extended the leather bound journal for signatures, Ophelia was eager to sign. This club seemed well organised, and she was interested to see where it would go. She signed her name with her usual flourish and then hung back once more, waiting to see if there was any more to this meeting.

interactions • @Elena Clark @Maisie Gemmell @Archer Duncan

A dozen of people reached for the quill lying next to the leather bounded volume, though the raven made sure to not scrutinize the ones that had chosen to sign, as well as the one that had preferred not to. The very last thing she wanted was to pressure someone into joining her club, and attentively note who grasped the quill and who did not was the best way to ensure this. So, instead, the honey haired girl pretended to sort different books into unknown categories, arranging a few glasses, reaching down to brush the incredibly soft scarf her dear friend of the sun had knitted for her,,,,,.

If the moonchild had payed closer attention to the small crowd gathered in front of her, she would have noticed a brown haired girl rushing towards them, late arrived and already future member — a colourful character, made of vibrant yellows and blooming flowers, mismatched buttons and warm tea leaves.

When her thought did locked back into place, however, was when Alyss — sweet, tender, running-through-sunlit-meadows Alyss — snapped at the strange boy with a bitter tongue. The raven's jaw dropped a few inches before the unexpected tirade, and it took a few seconds for her mind to regain its rightful place and command her to react. "Al- Lyly," she corrected herself, not desiring to sound as though she was reproaching her friend's courageous behavior. Inching closer to the sun-haired girl, she leaned towards her in conspiracy, lips curved into a softened smile, whispering in a hushed tone "Thank you, that was extremely sweet of you. I don't think he's harmful, though, so don't worry."

Aside from this little accrochage the meeting had unfolded itself surprisingly smoothly, in comparison to all of the catastrophe scenarios Elena had prepared, just in case. More and more people signed and left, and soon the willow tree sheltered but a solitary being, bent over the volume. A proud, excited smile sparked on her face as she counted all of the names scribbled down the paper — even though this reunion might have appeared as slightly boring, it still had convinced some souls to join her in this slightly insane project she had crafted through the year. Shutting the book down, the raven rose to her feet in order to pack the last items, when she suddenly noticed she was not alone.

Sunlight had begun to dim over the meadow, though the dipping branch of the weeping willow obscured this changement. A cooler breeze had settled, its scent hinting rain might be expected in the following hours.

Still sat close to the rugged trunk of her beloved tree, Elena was finishing wrapping up the last details of this meeting, piling up books and storing them back into their rightful basket, or packing the leftover delicacies. As the last person waved goodbye, she tightly shut the sign up book closed, delighted at the sight of the signatures lining up on the goldened paper.

Upon folding the last couverture, she suddenly realized one soul had lingered, the starry-eyed boy with which she had had an awkward encounter a few weeks prior, Damien. He was carrying an oddly shaped object, a gigantic square which appeared to be a painting. Intrigued, the blonde rose again, head tilting in curiosity, smiling with gratitude as he complimented the somewhat chaotic reunion that had just occurred.

She quickly realized he appeared to still be feeling terrible in regards to what had happened last time they had met, a tirade which Elena quickly interrupted with a rapid shake of the head. "We already discussed this, you have nothing to apologize for."

Without giving her the chance to further develop, he instead offered the painting he was carrying, which revealed itself to be a painting of her. The level of details was impressive, and though it was odd to receive a painting of oneself — she, for instance, had no idea where to store it, as having her own face hung on a wall was uncanny — she could tell he had poured his heart into it, and the attention was endearing. "Thank you Damien," she beamed, "it truly looks marvelous, you have a real talent."

While the amount of details captured the shifting hues of her golden locks in precise detail, and the attention was endearing, Elena had truly no idea what to do with such an item. While handcrafts such as the two lovely scarves she had been gifted prior this year, or other paintings she had purchased could be proudly hung over a wall, an enormous frame of your own face would be a bit too much for the comfort of her dorm.

Then again, she was quite sure her maternal grandparents would absolutely love it, and destroy her on the spot should they learn she had come into possession of a painting of herself and did not even mention it to them. Perhaps she could store it in her trunk until the upcoming vacations.

"It's okay, do not worry! I'll figure something out."

Poor thing was nervous enough already, she did not wish to add on to his squirming. He appeared an overall rather anxious individual, despite his fierce determination in appearing otherwise.

Seizing the painting in one hand, the rest of the material in another, she turned to him one last time before departing. "Thank you again Damien, see you soon!"