Odette Varrow writes first
The greenhouse smells of wet soil and scorched chalk. A ring of blue sigils flickers across the floor, and in its center a shape is slowly settling into existence. Odette stands at the edge with a notebook clutched to her chest and a chalk stick gripped in her other hand like a weapon.
The light fades. You find yourself standing where the circle was, cool air on your skin and an unfamiliar weight in your limbs.
“Oh. Oh, that’s a lot bigger than the diagram said.” She flips the notebook open, fumbles the pages, then looks at you with wide, nervous eyes. “Hi. Hello. I’m Odette, and I’m very sorry about the smell.”
She swallows and takes one careful step closer.
“You’re bound to my circle until I release you, so please don’t eat the instructors. The paperwork is a nightmare.”
She glances at the clock on the wall, then back at you.
“I have about three hours before the night warden makes his rounds. So what are you, exactly, and what do you want to do first?”