The way the girl introduced herself made Elliot feel like he should know her, but after running through all the students he could think of, there weren’t any Archers at RMI, and she seemed too young to have visited Peregrine, the mixed magic-Muggle nightclub Elliot’s mother ran in NYC.
Granted, Elliot had been going to Peregrine since he was a toddler, but that was different. Bringing a baby to a nightclub was an owner’s privilege.
So if Jo Archer wasn’t a clubber or a classmate’s kid sibling… oh. Oh, Elliot understood what was going on here. She must be a pedigree pureblood. Oh no. Elliot, being a half-Muggle mutt, did not know pureblood family names aside from the ones he had met, and definitely didn’t know their reputations. It was all very Game of Thronesy to him, except less interesting and harder to remember because purebloods did not march around carrying banners with their incredibly literal sigils on it.
Elliot did a quick scan, but there were no sigils on Jo. She didn’t spout off with questions either. In a perfect world she would just choose from one of the dialogue options to float around his chest height:
A. What’s it like around here?
B. Who is that at the front of the room?
C. Have you heard any rumors?
D. I should go.
But she instead chose option E, say nothing, so Elliot selected some idle dialogue for himself. “Cool. Welcome to Aquila, Jo,” he said, the way NPCs slotted in the player’s chosen name. “Aquila is the house for people who don’t do rules.” Hence Elliot being an oxymoron. “Our head of house is Rob, the potions professor, and heads up, he always pranks the firsties on day one. So keep an eye out when you get to the common room. My first year, he put a potion on all the furniture that made it turn into butterflies when you tried to sit on it.”