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[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Evening, 16 Loshis 2719
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

Madeleine hasn’t lied. Lying was wrong, and besides Madeleine was a terrible liar. She only had to think about lying and she would start to feel heat in her cheeks and also the back of her neck and creeping down over her chest beneath her uniform; she didn’t feel it in her ears but she was aware, miserably, that they often turned red too when she blushed, and if her hair wasn’t down that was just as visible as all the rest.

But she hadn't lied, because it was true that she wanted to do some experiments. It was just that they weren’t for physics class. If someone had asked - but no one had asked. She had gone to the department materials counter and she had asked for the weights and the scale and she had said she wanted to do some experiments. She had waited, practically holding her breath somewhere, because - wouldn’t they ask?

But the student who was managing the supplies closet had just shoved the ledger at her and gone back to his book, and Madeleine had signed the supplies out with a shaking hand and clutched them tightly to her chest as she rushed away. She had nearly run - but of course she hadn’t, because one wasn’t meant to run through the halls of Brunnhold. Even first formers knew that.

Madeleine had thought she would do the experiments in her room, but she had gotten all set up and then Cassandra had started talking loudly outside and Madeleine had utterly lost her focus and couldn’t even begin to try the spell she had copied, carefully, into her notebook. She had just sat there, tongue-tied and trembling, and stared at the little scale.

And then, hastily, Madeleine had packed up the scale and the weights - wrapped the scale up in her scarf so it wouldn’t make any sounds - and put them carefully in her bag and the notebook too, and she had fled past Cassandra and her friends, who had all been laughing loudly, and made her way out of the dormitories.

The classrooms were locked. Of course they were locked. Madeleine had stood in the dark empty halls with her hand on the door, and she had tried again, conscious of a sharp sense of disappointment, bitter on her tongue. It wasn’t meant to be, she told herself. She had tried.

She thought of Ekain Da Huane then; she thought of how he had assumed that proved the principles of her gravity spells already. She was only a sixth former, she wasn’t - and she thought of having the chance to talk to him again, and of having to say that she had meant to try but she couldn’t find a room, and so she had -

Madeleine had hurried down the dark hall then, and kept trying doors. She found a room, finally - it looked like it wasn’t used as a classroom anymore, because there weren’t very many desks, and the ones that were there were arranged in a strange semi-circle, not at all the proper shape for desks. Very strange.

Madeleine had gone to one of them and sat down at it, and she had unwrapped the little scale and set it on top of the desk. She had stacked the weight, carefully, one little one on each side.

Then, slowly, Madeleine had taken her notebook out. She had a candle too, and she propped it on the desk and lit it with matches, and so that she could see the monite she had written in the trembling little flame.

And with a deep breath, Madeleine had begun to cast. She had meant to just say the words aloud first as a practice, but when she began them she wanted it too badly to wait, and she found herself bringing her intent to the magic almost without meaning to.

For a moment, when it had finished, she thought it hadn’t worked. The principle was so simple - modify the gravitational constant that governed the relationship between the little weight and the world below - and she was sure the spell wasn’t wrong, so why -

Then the scale shifted, slowly, and eased down on the right side, lowering just a moment. Madeleine gasped aloud and it promptly raised back up. She stared at it for a long time, and then grinned, her whole face lighting up.

“Oh,” Madeleine whispered, and sighed happily. She bent over the notebook, and tried it again, and again she watched wide-eyed as the scale lowered, for just a moment, and held.

“Oh!” Madeleine leapt up out of her seat and spun in a circle - spun as many times as she could until she was giggling too hard to continue and stumbled to a stop. Her hair had wisped out of its once-neat little braid, hovering in a messy cloud around her head, and she was smiling so widely she could feel it glowing in her chest, echoing all through her.

It had worked!

Rolls

Spell attempt 1: 2
Spell attempt 2: 2

[Fionn]

Loshis 16, 2719 | Late Evening
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

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He wasn't meant to be here. He wasn't meant to be here at all in fact and that was what made it wonderful.

His feet whispered along Brunnhold's corridors, moving away from the common thoroughfares, the frequently used areas that even now could still hold the odd student or professor, engaged in guided study sessions or experimentation, whether magical or mundane. With the university's classes out for the day and the movements within its academic halls scarce, Fionn knew that he could easily be spotted and that questions would be asked and so he didn't have a desire to bump into anyone. This wasn't the first time that he'd done this but it was still exhilarating, still deliciously forbidden.

The middle Madden had left Keyes for the day, had taken a turn making the evening meal for the passives and once he'd had his share, he'd slipped away. Everything had its patterns and while the Anaxi university never quite slept, there were often lulls and pockets of inactivity if you knew where to look and Fionn had done quite a bit of watching and waiting and learning. There was certainly pleasure in learning the rhythms of life within the place that allowed him freedom within the confines of his prison, a secret joy in being able to outsmart galdori and passive collaborators alike but there was more to it then that. In these quiet moments, the teenager revelled in worshipful peace.

The boy had been raised to revere the Circle Gods as all galdori were but in the Anaxi heart, Alioe held a special place and that was no different for the passive. He had been known to stay up to watch Benea ascend the skies when it was in its full glory, to watch its progress over the months as it waxed and waned, a pleasant order to the rhythms of the celestial bodies, the progress of each day and night measurable by the rise and falls in the heavens. Alioe's timely order could be found everywhere if you knew what you were looking for and it felt as if he had learned to navigate the streams of life around him, weaving between them in a pretty harmony that felt like a blessing rather than a privilege. He'd learned the patterns that were visible for all those who wanted to find them but other people were too preoccupied with their everyday routines and worries to pay attention. Every time he used his knowledge, the blond felt as if he was involved in his own private form of worship.

This evening was a particularly auspicious one for clandestine activities. Benea was a waning crescent, winking as Fionn had always seen it. It was like being under the goddess's eye as she watched from beneath a hooded lid, keeping appraised on what went on below but ready to turn a blind eye. The blond had no idea what had put that notion into his head but it had always seemed right to him. On a night like this, he felt that anything covert that he did was seen and accepted by the Lady.

Not that he was being intentionally covert, of course. The passive had learned long ago that the best way to be noticed was to try to be inconspicuous. Sneaking and creeping made you stand out, veritably screaming that you were dong something that you knew or felt you ought not to be doing. A furtive passive was particularly worrisome to any galdori that caught sight of them, signalling that they should pay attention to the people they'd much rather let fade into the background.

His steps were light but that was habit rather than a result of intentional sneaking, the young man moving with apparent purpose. If anyone stopped him then he had excuses poised on the tip of his tongue, plausible and acceptable but he didn't expect to be caught, especially when he got into the corridors with classrooms and stores that were hardly used, if at all. He understood that some subjects waned in popularity at the university and thus, rooms that had once been dedicated to them had fallen into disuse. Such places were interesting to explore if he found them open, not knowing what he might find within, what dusty and forgotten object he could pilfer. He had a candle and some matches in his pocket for when he wanted to peer around him but for now, he was content to move down ill-lit stretches where dim light filtered in through the windows.

Who knew how long any treasures might linger in the dark, free for his questing fingers to collect before such rooms were repurposed. It was why he was here now, eager to see what he might find.

Admittedly, he was surprised to see the faint orange glow of a flame glinting within one of the disused classrooms. It was a dim light source that much was clear, barely puncturing the blue-black of the hallway, barely colouring the dull glass in the door. It made his steps slow, the young man considering the little window while his teeth worried at his lip. It was definitely light but it wasn't strong, probably not a lamp and it was so weak that it suggested that someone was more at home in shadow. It didn't seem to be moving, no change in intensity or in the way the shadows were thrown so whoever was in there didn't seem to be moving the light source.

He crept closer to the portal, pausing beside it with his ear near the crack between the door and the jamb for any sound within but it was quiet. The person within was probably right by the candle so they wouldn't be able to see anything outside of their sphere of light, which meant that if he peeped in the glass.

Placing hands on the door frame, he stepped close and peered in, squinting while his eyes adjusted to the candle inside. The scene was presented to him slowly as the light and shade coalesced into recognisable shapes. A small figure seated at a desk, a flickering candle and something in front of them. A scale? Yes, that's what it looked like. He'd used them in the kitchen before. He puzzled over what he was seeing, trying to make sense of it and that was when he felt the gentle stirring of monic particles at the edge of his senses. Fionn couldn't feel her field but he could feel the effects of a cast as the mona shifted in response to her command although he could not here it. The lazy swirls and eddies shifted, a small surge of purpose and the particles around the summoned few drifted away, pushed away by the movements.

There was no sense to it and yet the figure rose (Fionn barely stopped himself from jolting back), spinning around in a giddy display that sent skirts whirling around her. For that's what who it was, a girl and one whose features might have some familiarity although he wasn't sure, not through the slightly dusty glass. Whoever it was, she was casting magic, presumably in secret or she wouldn't be hiding in this little disused room with her single guttering candle. Whoever she was, she wasn't meant to be here and so telling on him wouldn't do her any favours.

He took a chance and opened the door, a careful turn of the handle which gave a short little squeak as the metal moved. Well, he wasn't planning to sneak around anyway. Fionn stepped in and shut the door quietly behind him, slipping his hands into his pockets as approached.

"Little golly conversing with the mona alone and in the dark. How clandestine!" the last word dropped from his tongue with relish, the young man unable to resist a smile and it was clear to hear in his voice. His vocabulary had been advanced when he entered Brunnhold courtesy of all the reading he'd done but he was back at it now and Niamh had even allowed him to have a dictionary. It was a word that he'd found that he liked, not that he had the opportunity to use it. Most of the passives had been left with childish knowledge, the gollies happy to leave their brains frozen in amber, children forever even when they had left immature inexperience behind - in some regards at least. His brain had never been one to remain still and unchanged.

As he walked into the classroom properly, he was able to feel her field and get a better look at her features, caught in the awkward stage between child and adult as the baby fat sloughed away. Both the face and the field had familiarity for him though. Fionn didn't think he was glad to recognise her, his last encounter leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He felt less clever now as well.

"Oh it's you. Good evening, Miss Gosselin. What are you doing in the dark that you shouldn't be doing?" he asked, drawing his hands from his pockets and clasping them behind his back instead, aiming for a neutral tone but unable to keep a note of wry amusement from his words.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Evening, 16 Loshis 2719
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

It worked, it worked, it worked! Logically, Madeleine knew it was only the first tiny step of so many, and there was no reason it shouldn’t have worked, not really, but all the same if it hadn’t she would have had to start over entirely. So even if there had been every chance for it to work, it was still wonderful that it had!

Madeleine spun again, her arms extending slowly. This was the first step, she thought. She would learn to do it more precisely; she would learn to sustain it. She would learn to cast it on a part and not a whole, and she - Madeleine glanced down her arm, and she shivered. And she would learn to cast it on herself, she thought firmly. She would -

The voice that broke into her thoughts was unwelcome, but mostly just unexpected. Madeleine shrieked, her head jerking up, and stumbled back, hands coming up to cover her mouth. If anyone had heard her...!

She squinted but she couldn’t see anything in the dark but a shape, only movement. Madeleine whimpered, afraid, and stepped back further, arms wrapping across her front. No field, Madeleine thought, shaking. He shouldn’t be here - whoever he was, he shouldn’t - even if he was a passive, Madeleine was quite sure she wasn’t supposed to be alone with him in a classroom! She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it had been made very clear to her that being alone with men was forbidden.

There was a dark shift of movement in front of her, and a pale face emerged into the candlelight. Madeleine knew him immediately - Fionn, Professor Keyes’ passive, Niamh’s brother, not very bright but - Madeleine stared wide-eyed at him, her shoulders hunching up, curling in on herself. Well - surely he didn’t count as a man, did he? Not like that! Madeleine didn’t think so.

“N-nothing!” Madeleine blurted. Her face immediately felt hot, a blush creeping over her cheeks. She bit her lip, all that easy joy fled and replaced with - with - fear.

“You-“ Madeleine’s voice trembled on the word. He was only a passive! She wasn’t supposed to talk to him at all, but he had started it, and Madeleine wasn’t sure what to do now. She had to talk to him; he hadn’t left her any choice. It was his fault, not hers, and he had - the way he had said things, before he had even known who she was! Before he had said her name anyway, Madeleine wasn’t sure -

Why did it sound different now? He had called her Ms. Gosselin in Professor Keynes’s office too. But it sounded different somehow when he said it now, the two of them alone in the empty little classroom with its half circle of desks, Madeleine’s candle casting a flicker of light over the desk, the scale - the notebook!

Madeleine lunged forward, slapped the notebook shut, and grabbed it, hugging it tightly against her chest, her cheeks flaming even more red than before. She stared at Fionn, and straightened her back, and tried her best not to sound afraid.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, Fionn,” She stared at the passive, shaking a little, and then - and then - it didn’t sound very strong, did it? Not like when Angelique yelled at her, or when she got in trouble. She needed to - she needed to - Madeleine thought of Angelique yelling at her to leave her lip colors alone; she thought of Angelique snapping at her to leave the library at home. She thought of her parents telling her to go to her room, but she didn’t think that was quite right. No; she fixed her mind on Angelique.

“Or -“ Madeleine’s imagination failed her, utterly, and she couldn't seem to stop trembling. Angelique always seemed to have so many threats that she could make and Madeleine had never thought before that it might be hard to come up with them. “or else!”

[Fionn]

Loshis 16, 2719 | Late Evening
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

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Sweet Lady! Madeleine was awful at this sneaking around thing, wasn't she? Admittedly, having him appear out of the dark - from her perspective - would probably have been frightening for anyone who wasn't expecting it but everything about her screamed guilt. Mind you, his eardrums would have preferred if the girl had figuratively screamed it rather than literally. No doubt, she could be louder and a lot higher but Fionn hoped that he never had reason to hear her scream for real; he'd no desire to go deaf.

He held his hand palm down, flicking his fingers down as he made a soft shushing moment. Circle save him, could she not draw attention to them both? The last thing he needed was for someone to come running and find him alone in a room with a young female galdor. People could jump to all sorts of conclusions but he'd end up in a world of trouble regardless of what they thought. Bloody privileged bitch, she had little enough to be afraid of, didn't she? She was in no danger here and for her, trouble probably meant a telling off and maybe, someone might be... disappointed in her!

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, the youth also inclined to laugh at just how obvious she was being. Well, he was inclined but it wasn't going to happen. His amusement was overshadowed by what he could sense in her field, the teenager bleeding her feelings everywhere and it was... uncomfortable. Fionn wasn't a huge fan of being subject to galdori fields at the best of times, or their emotions when they charged the particles around them but Maddie was really scared. If he hadn't encountered her and her emotions before, the passive might have thought that she was freaked out about being caught doing something forbidden or scared of consequences. But he had been with her before and her reactions to him in Keyes' office hadn't exactly been favourable.

She was scared of him.

The blond could have tried to soothe her, to reassure her that she was in no danger but he wasn't sure that it would help, not to mention of course that he didn't feel like being kind towards her. She'd been a stuck-up little bitch to him when she'd modelled for Gus and what was more, he had a suspicion that she thought he was stupid. It wasn't an unusual view and passives were often condescended to, even if it was sometimes meant kindly, because they were seen as simple-minded. Bless them, it wasn't their fault that they were simple, little children. However, the young man was more inclined to be rankled by it these days, especially when his opinion was valued, his points of view. Harper certainly hadn't treated him as if he was thick. No, he was intelligent and that intelligence had been appreciated more over the last few months. He didn't want to go back to being thought of as an idiot, even if it did have its advantages sometimes.

Stuttering, she snatched up a notebook that he hadn't realised she'd been using and hugged it protectively to her chest. Well, it made sense. She'd probably been reading her spell from it, she was still young enough that there were probably many spells that she didn't have learned off. It obviously wasn't a proper grimoire that she held but she obviously had Monite jotted down in it. The forbidden Monite. Niamh wouldn't even the entertain the notion of teaching the magical tongue to him. It was the first step to learning magic, enough to count as an attempt even if he didn't recite the words aloud. Teaching him even a little was terribly illegal, she told him. He'd upset her often enough by asking he knew but really, if a passive couldn't do anything with magic then what were they all so bloody afraid of, hm?

All the same, he would have liked to peer at the ink scratches that Maddie had made, even if he couldn't read them. It was quite clear that she wasn't going to allow him to do that though.

Her blurted command made him snort, the wobbly child voice making it sound more like a whiny plea. Please don't tell on me, please! Clock the Circle, what did she think would happen to her? If the spell was something that she'd learned in class then she probably wasn't meant to practice it; galdori had all sorts of rules about when you couldn't and couldn't use magic although they definitely treated their offspring's usage more seriously, which was understandable. However, she seemed really worried, worried enough that she was trying to be intimidating.

"Oh yes because I'd have so much information to give," he commented dryly, shaking his head. He actually rolled his eyes this time as he watched her try to puff herself up or something. Gods, she looked ridiculous. She couldn't be that many years younger than he was and yet, she was so bloody young. But she was clearly scared so what had she been doing? Something more forbidden? Untested magic? She was red in the face and clearly struggling. He wasn't sure but she looked like she might start crying at the merest provocation. He almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

"Or else, what? You'll cry at me? It's not like you're going to cast at me, you look too flustered for that," he retorted, laughing as he moved to one of the desks, perching on it with his hands gripping its edges lightly. Fionn eyed the scales beside her candle, scrutinising them for any sign of anything unusual but they seemed normal enough.

"Not sure that you're in the position to make threats though - not that I'd call that a threat. I can't imagine you hurting anything and I only believe threats from people I know are capable of being nasty," he explained, brown eyes fixed on her face now. He hadn't expected Niamh to be capable of nastiness either because she was such an empathetic creature but he had known she had a temper so it shouldn't have been so much of a surprise when she blew up at him and Oísin. Maybe looks were deceiving here as well, especially as he hadn't grown up with Madeleine.

"I'm not one to tell tales either, it's not like I'd have reason to go crying to the galdori but what could I tell them? That you were doing secret magic in the dark? That you were doing something... experimental? Too young to be playing with that sort of thing, hm?"

It was a guess but he thought it might pay off. Harper had experimental spells and he was very hush-hush about them. He wasn't allowed talk about those and he guessed that this was something similar. The student seemed to have gone out of her way not to be found.

"Oh! I could tell them that you very nearly left Monite sitting around where a passive might have seen it. Tut tut tut. Not that you'd be letting a passive read now or worse, trying to teach one magic. It's quite illegal."

He couldn't keep a sly smile from his lips now as he remembered how she'd treated him, acted as if simple kindness from him was an affront to her. He could remember her disgust as if passivity was contagious and he might give it to her if she paid him too much attention. Those recollections didn't leave him predisposed to be kind and it was all too tempting to try to push her buttons. Maybe Fionn was even curious to see if he could make her angry.

"You know, I think I'm warming to the idea of reporting on you. It'd be so worth it. Someone could pat me on the head and tell me what a good boy I am," Fionn remarked, lips twisting in a sneer. No way could he say that with a straight face. Really! As if he'd get more than that. It wouldn't be worth telling on her, even if there was something substantial to tell. Didn't she realise that?

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Evening, 16 Loshis 2719
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

Maybe it was only that it was hard to tell, but Madeleine didn’t think Fionn looked afraid. In fact, it looked – it looked – it looked almost like he had rolled his eyes. But he couldn’t have, could he? Rolling your eyes was something people definitely didn’t do when they were afraid, and she had threatened him so he was supposed to be afraid. Madeleine had always been afraid when Angelique threatened her. She stared wide-eyed at the passive, trembling, and clutched her notebook a little tighter to her chest. Fear was sour-yellow in the air around her, and she could feel the heat still on her cheeks.

Madeleine dropped her gaze when Fionn asked or else what, and then jerked it back up when he asked if she meant to cry at him. Her whole face felt tight, suddenly; there was a blazing sort of heat behind her eyes, and her lower lip trembled. She hunched up her shoulders a little more. Fionn moved closer, sitting on the desks like other students did, sometimes, casual and easy; Madeleine didn’t understand why people liked to sit on the desks and not the chairs. Madeleine took another worried step back, staring at the passive, and shook her head.

He was staring at her, just staring, and Madeleine sniffled. She was not going to cry, she told herself. She was not going to cry. She could – she could cast at Fionn if she wanted to! It hadn’t even occurred to her that she could threaten him with magic, and she didn’t want to, but she could have if she had wanted to; he was only a passive and he didn’t know the first thing about it. Madeleine was a perfectly good caster; she knew – just – lots of spells. Lots of them. She could cast as many as she wanted on the passive, if – if she had wanted to. Which she didn’t. But if she had!

“No!” Madeleine blurted out when Fionn accused her of doing something experimental, of being too young for it. “I’m not too – I wasn’t – and even if I was, I’m not too young! I’m fifteen!” Madeleine announced her age with all the fury of a child being referred to as a slightly-younger-child, and even she could hear how her voice practically squeaked up at the end, and she knew she was blushing even more. There were more tears in her eyes now, and Madeleine let out something that sounded halfway between a huff and a sob, lifting one sleeve to rub at her face. No – she wasn’t going to cry! She wasn’t.

Fionn was smiling, and Madeleine didn’t understand why, but she felt small and even more afraid. Why was he smiling? It wasn’t anything to smile about! She let out a little sob when he said he would report her, shaking all the more violently now, and she rubbed at her eyes again, but it didn’t seem to be helping; a few tears leaked out and slid steadily down her cheeks, and Madeleine stifled another sob into her sleeve, and rubbed it over her eyes again, still clinging to her book.

“You can’t,” Madeleine said, shaking. “You’re not – you’re not supposed to be here. You’re not,” the injustice of it rankled; how could he tell on her when he was doing something bad too? Madeleine couldn’t believe that she had – that she had felt sorry for him before, that she had – that she had thought he understood. That she had thought he was nice. He wasn’t nice, not at all. “That means, if you tell, then they’ll know you were doing something wrong,” Madeleine said, logically, trying to get him to understand. Maybe he just didn’t realize, she thought, desperately. “You can’t!”

There were even more tears leaking out of her eyes now, and Madeleine couldn’t bring herself to look at Fionn anymore. He was going to tell – she was going to get in so much trouble, because she would have to explain – she would have to explain – and she wasn’t any good at lying, she wasn’t, but they would want to know what spells she had been casting – they would look in her notebook and see all her plans, and –

Madeleine had taken another step back, and then another, and she bumped into the back wall with a squeak; she turned to look at it, as if surprised that it had snuck up on her, then looked back at Fionn, her lips trembling, and gave up on any last claims that she wasn’t ging to cry. “You can't. Please – please don’t tell,” Madeleine said, and began to cry properly.

It wasn’t fair, Madeleine thought, miserably. For once – for once! – things had been going well. Her spell had worked, and then – Fionn had ruined it all, and he had smiled about it.

She would never do it, Madeleine realized. She would – she didn’t – she wasn’t brave enough, and she would never be brave enough, and the mona probably hated her too, just like everyone else. They wouldn’t want to dance with her either. She pressed her back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor, and tucked her notebook into her lap – buried her face in her hands, and cried like her heart would break, cried for the dream that she had thought for a few moments she could call her own.

[Fionn]

Loshis 16, 2719 | Late Evening
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

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The passive wasn't blind, he could tell that she was getting wound up but he pushed anyway. It was rather petty of him but he'd been harbouring something of a grudge since the sitting. He'd been dazzled by her at the showcase, had been proud and pleased with himself for picking her out and he had so looked forward to seeing her again, to observing that graceful innocence he'd witnessed on stage but she'd been so different and she'd been so- He had regretted ever choosing her and he resented her more than a little bit for what was actually typical galdori behaviour and thinking; Madeleine was just a representation of everything he hated in her kind. However, she was still a child and it wasn't fair to place his resentment of an entire race on her shoulders.

That being said, just because it wasn't fair...

He shouldn't have dug the knife in after she indignantly declared that she was fifteen and wasn't too young.

"Sweet Lady, when are you sixteen?" he muttered to himself, hoping that she'd only recently turned fifteen because if she was closer to sixteen... Clock the Circle, there seemed to be far more years between them or it felt as if there ought to be at any rate but it was only four, maybe less depending on when her birthday was. She was already sniffling at this point and her eyes were overly bright and so he should have stopped but he didn't. Why? Because he was an ersehole, that's why.

"Oh well, sometimes people get into places that they shouldn't, break curfew and that so it's not unreasonable to have someone keep an eye out and why not a lowly passive? Perfect reason to be out," he pointed out, harpooning her desperate, grasping logic. It was true though, he wasn't actually meant to be here but she didn't have to know that. Nobody had to know that, it was kind of the point. But she believed him, genuinely believed him. In spite of the sarcasm, in spite of the venom, she really thought that he was going to tell on her.

And he'd be lying if he said that he didn't relish her pleading desperation, the sense of power it gave him as the tables turned in his favour. Not a useless waste of space now, was he? Not a poor, snivelling little scrap no use to anyone. She'd be less inclined to stick her nose up in the air now, wouldn't she?

Except that she wouldn't be doing much of anything because it was at that point that she burst into tears and slid into a miserable, sobbing heap on the floor with her back against the wall. Bawled like a little child, the air charged with a staggering amount of emotion as it was allowed to bleed through her field unfettered. The young man grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt his face warm from shame.

He'd wanted to scare her a bit, upset her maybe. Actually if anything, he'd hoped that she'd get a little angry. He hadn't wanted to make her cry. Again. The last time, she hadn't been this bad though but he had made her cry before. Apparently, he was good at this, he could make Niamh cry too. He really was an ersehole. Admittedly, his sister had managed to make this girl cry in the Infirmary so she might just be a sensitive creature but... he was definitely still an ersehole.

He groaned, reaching into his pocket to see if- Yes, he had a handkerchief. He tugged it out, a crumpled ball and shook it out, peering at it in the candlelight. It looked clean and he couldn't remember using it for anything so...

The blond moved forward with a grimace, the emotional devastation an almost physical mass that he felt he had to wade through; it was far from pleasant but this was his fault. It was always all his own fault.

"Hey now, it's all right. I didn't mean it, okay? I was just being an ersehole and I thought you’d realise that. I- Look, I’m sorry, I’m not going to tell anyone anything, okay? Here.”

He’d reached her side but was hesitant about touching her. He’d drawn close to her before and she’d tried to sink through Keyes’s chair so he shuddered to think how she’d respond if he tipped her. The last thing either of them needed was for her to scream bloody murder and he had a funny feeling that that was exactly what she’d do. Thus, the passive approached her as if she was an extremely dangerous and terrified animal that had been backed into the corner, voice low and soothing as well as full of apology. He waved the handkerchief gently beside her face, a white flag of truce.

”Sorry, I thought I was sufficiently facetious but I suppose my sense of humour is a bit uh… unique at this point,” he remarked with nervous chuckle. ”I’m not going to snitch. It won’t do me any favours and there’s no point reporting on you simply because I can. I may be an ersehole but I’m not that bad. Honest,” Fionn assured her, injecting a little light humour but delivering his little speech with the utmost sincerity.

The young man hovered awkwardly, not wanting to sit beside her and freak her out but all too aware that he was looming over her and that probably wouldn’t do good things for her nerves. He settled for sitting cross-legged on the floor a few feet in front of her.

”So do you want to talk about what you were doing? With the scales? I felt it but I didn’t see and well… I’m not good at telling the types. I know it can’t have been Living or Perceptive. Um… I know that you can use uh… what’s it called? The one with calculations and such. Quanti- Quantit- Quanti-something! I know my brother does something to do with uh… Clock the Circle, sorry, I don’t pay much attention to what Oísin does. Physical, I think but I haven’t looked into it. I’d probably have done Living myself. If I… If I could have…”

He hung his head, tracing patterns in dust motes on the floor, shoulders hunched as he sighed. He was rambling he knew and he’s probably just freak her out more but he didn’t know how to fix this.

”Do you um… do you want a hug? Not that I- I get if you don’t want me to but… you look like you could use one and I don’t want to give you one and have you start screaming or something. Passivity isn’t contagious and like… nothing bad will happen just because I’m a boy but… still…”

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Evening, 16 Loshis 2719
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

Madeleine cried. She didn’t like it, and she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She was aware that it was leaking out of her, all that sadness, hanging in a blue cloud in the air around her. The worst part was that the crying didn’t make her feel any better; if anything, she felt worse because she hadn’t wanted to cry, she hadn’t wanted to at all. She had been – she had been so happy, and now she was crying, again, and it was awful.

Madeleine didn’t realize that Fionn was there until he spoke again. She jerked, looking wide-eyed up at him, and whimpered, expecting him to make fun of her again; it took a few moments before she could realize that he wasn’t – that, instead, he was apologizing, and – promising not to tell? He waved a handkerchief at her.

Madeleine hiccupped and sniffled, her nose running, and slowly reached out and took the handkerchief. She blew her nose into it, and then curled back up, burying her face in her knees again. She wasn’t crying anymore, not really, but she wasn’t not-crying either, and she didn’t know what to say to Fionn.

He promised not to – snitch, which was a word Madeleine had never actually heard anyone say aloud before, but of course she knew it from books. He kept saying ersehole too, which Madeleine knew was a bad word, but she supposed it wasn’t that bad. If he didn’t tell, she thought she could forgive his terrible language, even though she rather thought he needed to have his mouth washed out with soap.

Madeleine peeked up again, and Fionn was sitting in front of her, cross-legged, frowning at her and then down at the floor. He was just – just talking. Madeleine didn’t exactly know what to make of it, because – normally people didn’t like to talk to her, really, and… and he was talking like – like they were friends? Like she heard people talking sometimes to their friends, just – he wasn’t her friend, of course, he was a passive but it was – it was nice, and Madeleine didn’t know what to make of it. She felt ashamed of thinking it was nice, ashamed and confused.

She couldn’t talk to him about what she had been doing, of course. It was forbidden, she was pretty sure. At least – well – if she didn’t – but passives weren’t supposed to know about magic. Nobody had ever explained to Madeleine why, of course; it was just one of those things that everyone knew, even her. But Madeleine understood; she knew why. It was because it would be mean to tell them about it when they couldn’t ever do it – terribly mean. Even if the mona didn’t like her, at least she could communicate with them! At least she could try. Poor Fionn would never be able to.

He offered her a hug, and Madeleine stared wide-eyed at him, still sitting and holding her own legs, doubled over herself. She frowned at him, a few last tears still trickling down her cheeks, and blew her nose in his handkerchief again.

Madeleine could count on one hand the number of hugs she’d had since she’d come to Brunnhold. One; the number was one, and it had been a hug from Niamh Madden, Fionn’s sister, and it had been really lovely up until the part where Niamh had gone moony and said horrible, awful, awful things that Madeleine certainly never ever thought about. She stared suspiciously at Fionn, wondering if she was even allowed to accept a hug from him. He insisted that nothing bad would happen even though he was a boy, but Madeleine wasn’t so sure. He was a passive, so of course he didn’t really count, but – but still –

Except, if he promised not to tell anyone, then… was a hug still forbidden if no one knew about it? Madeleine wasn’t entirely clear on the rules. She thought so, but it didn’t quite make sense. But, then – cheating was bad even if you didn’t get caught, so maybe hugging was as well? If it was bad to hug a passive, or to hug a passive who was also a boy, or –

It was all very confusing, and Madeleine meant to say no, but then she nodded instead, staring at Fionn, because all she could think about was how nice it had been when Niamh had hugged her – before she had gone all moony. After, of course, Madeleine had felt terrible and sick that Niamh had even touched her, even though she hadn’t known then because she hadn’t ruined everything yet.

“Do I need to – to do anything?” Madeleine asked, looking at Fionn. She rubbed her eyes on his handkerchief again, and – tentatively – lowered her knees a little, sitting up against the wall. “I – I don’t – you’re sure nothing bad will happen? N-not – I know it isn’t contagious. But you are a boy, and I – I’m not sure…” Madeleine went quiet, and hugged her knees, hunching back up a little more, certain she had ruined it again, like she always did. Her eyes felt hot, and she rubbed at them, trying not to cry anymore.

[Fionn]

Loshis 16, 2719 | Late Evening
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

.

She took the handkerchief and she didn't scream, which was very good. Admittedly, she reached for the square of cloth as if she expected he might devour her or something if she moved too quickly but at least there was no screaming. No screaming was always a good sign and she also didn't seem to be crying anymore. Well, she was no longer bawling her eyes out as if everything in her life was too terrible to bear but the blue-shift of her field didn't seem to have diminished at all. Fionn could understand that. More often than not, he actually felt worse after he cried. The misery that had caused the outburst wouldn't have gone away and then he'd be left shamed and angry with himself because did he not know better at this stage? Hadn't he learned at this point that crying didn't solve anything? Maybe Madeleine's crying hadn't done her any favours either.

He had found that hugs helped though or at least, hugging Niamh helped. He didn't tend to hug other people so he didn't know if it was something that worked in general or if his sister just had some sort of special power. When he wasn't trying to shrug her off because sweet Lady, he wasn't a child, he found that her embrace was pleasantly warm and comforting. Apparently people hugged each other sometimes so there must be some general benefit to it but he wasn't sure that he was good at hugs. The teenager had no idea what in the Ten's names he was meant to do with his hands. Clock that, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with his arms

The youth might have offered to hug the galdori student but he never imagined that she'd agree and hoping that she wouldn't. His mere presence seemed to be a source of horror to her and a simple display of kindness - yes, it wouldn't have been necessary to give her a handkerchief if he hadn't made her cry in the first place but still - seemed to invoke terror. The notion of touching him should probably have sent her shuddering and cringing back against the wall. Her response certainly wasn't that dramatic but she did gawk at him so it was definitely shocking to her that he'd suggested it.

Honestly, Fionn was rather surprised that he'd suggested it himself because he really didn't fancy having to attempt to comfort her. He was more likely to cause her to break into fresh waves of tears rather than making her feel better.

Except that she was nodding and unless a nod had come to mean something completely different in the last few minutes and someone had failed to tell him...

"You... you want me to hug you? You don't... you don't mind me..." he squawked incredulously before he trailed off, eyeing her warily, uncertainly. It felt like a trap but he couldn't imagine why she'd agree if she didn't mean it. Furthermore, what could she do against him if he tried to hug her? Was she planning on hurling a spell at him? She could that easily enough as it was. Unless he wanted him to get close so she could physically harm him. The notion was laughable. She wasn't that much smaller than him but the idea of it conjured up images of a child battering ineffectually at an adult.

That being said, he'd seen her dance and her legs were strong...

"Do anything? Well, I... I guess you could stand up?" he suggested carefully. Hugging people when they were sitting seemed to be possible but he wasn't qualified for that kind of thing. Hell, he wasn't qualified to do any of this but he could try. It might just be awkward and uncomfortable instead of helpful though.

"Nothing bad will happen, I promise. Sweet Lady, what do you think will happen?" he asked, mystified as he unfolded himself so he could get to his feet once more, dusting off his trousers. Was it because he was a guy or a passive? Fionn was inclined to think it was his sex rather than his passivity and her stuttered words confirmed as much. He guessed that she hadn't had contact with men before, not even in something as innocent as a hug and he had to wonder what ideas might have taken root in her head.

He'd grown up with certain ideas about propriety, certainly. Passives were segregated along sex lines for a reason and he knew full how innocent things could be misconstrued in a negative light when there was such a fear that passives might actually breed within the confines of Brunnhold. Circle forbid that they should make more of themselves after all! But Niamh had given him some ideas of how galdori regarded relations between the sexes in general and there was a definite prudishness as far as he could gather although ironically, Brunnhold was a little looser on these things.

Even so, there was no one here and thus, it couldn't be a matter of appearances. What in Alioe's name did she think could go wrong by being in contact with a boy? Surely she knew that an embrace wasn't going to cause her to- Although embrace sounded like a good euphemism and he'd become very good at spotting any sort of sexual euphemisms, courtesy of Niamh. It was possible that this girl - sweet and innocent thing that she was in spite of the gap of a few years between them - was utterly ignorant of what sex was and how children were conceived. Maybe in her mind, a touch was enough to land a girl in trouble, who knew?

No way in hell was he bringing that up.

"Nothing bad will happen, I promise. I'm not... a... uh... Just because I'm a boy doesn't mean that it's bad to touch me. Honestly. Passivity aside, I'm not disgusting or... or obscene," he assured her quietly, trying to smile but finding that the expression came out a little sad. He stood there, uncertain if he should open his arms now and stand there waiting for her to step into them or if he should simply wait.

"You have hugged before, right?" he said, voicing his own thoughts aloud. That was actually meant to have been a question for himself. He should know how this worked, it really wasn't that complicated. Gods, why did it feel complicated? And weird? Clock the Circle, this was really weird. He felt like he was going to give Maddie her first hug or something, which brought other firsts to mind and-

Stop thinking. Just stop, Fionn told himself, well aware that he'd gone red in the face and that he was fighting the urge to shift his weight from one foot to the other. He needed to pretend to be competent, that was all. He had to seem like he knew what he was doing, even though he didn't feel that way. The blond inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly before raising his hands slightly from his sides, forcing himself to relax.

Just pretend that it's Niamh. You're hugging your sister, that's all.

If Maddie stepped forward then he'd raise his arms higher and open them more so that she could step into them, even closing the distance - carefully, mind - if she seemed hesitant to come too close. The galdor willing, he'd place arms around her gently, ensuring that they didn't slip too low before encircling her protectively. The blond had to remind himself that he wasn't meant to pat her back or awkwardly drum his fingers there. Instead, he remembered that he had to simply let his hands rest calmly and somehow project that aura of calm that Niamh managed. And it wasn't a field thing, he had no idea how she did it. The passive would do his best to relax instead, hoping that an absence of tension was soothing enough, head tilting a bit to one side so that she had room to put her head wherever she wanted.

If he managed to get her that far then he'd apply a little more pressure, hold her a bit more securely and ideally not crush her face into his shoulder.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Evening, 16 Loshis 2719
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

Oh. Madeleine understood, abruptly; he hadn’t meant it. He hadn’t wanted her to say yes. She couldn’t have said how she knew; it was something in the way he was staring at her. It was like when someone asked if you wanted to be in their group for studying, but they didn’t really mean it. It was the way they looked at you then, as if you should have known before. Madeleine hadn’t always known what that look meant, and sometimes she had gone to study with them anyway. It wasn’t fun, sitting at the table with a group and feeling even more alone than usual, everyone talking and laughing with each other and no one wanting to talk to you. It had happened a few times, and now Madeleine knew that look, and she knew that it was the look Fionn was giving her now – the look that said she should have known, that she was stupid for not knowing.

Madeleine hunched up a little more, and she thought about whether she should take it back. He had asked again to confirm, and there was a sour, aching feeling in the pit of her stomach, like somebody had grabbed it and squeezed it very tight, and Madeleine nearly, nearly said no, she didn’t want – she didn’t want him to – but she’d already nodded. Was it worse to take it back now?

And Fionn didn’t say he wouldn’t do it, he just – he just suggested that she stand up. Madeleine trembled against the wall for a long moment, and watched Fionn tentatively as he rose, dusting off his pants.

“I don’t know,” Madeleine admitted, when Fionn asked what sort of bad things she thought would happen. “No one… no one has ever explained that part.” Madeleine hugged her legs a little closer. She was still sitting on the floor, but – she shifted, slowly, and she stood, her skirt creased and stained with dust, sticking awkwardly to her legs where she had sat on it, leaving her notebook behind on the floor. She hadn’t felt weird with Fionn sitting near her, but it was strange to be standing so close to him, and Madeleine didn’t really know why.

Fionn promised nothing bad would happen. Madeleine blushed faintly at the word obscene, which seemed to her – well – obscene, especially when one said it aloud, but she nodded. He did something with his face that kind of looked like a smile, but it wasn’t. Not quite.

“Um,” Madeleine said, when Fionn asked if she had hugged before. She hesitated. “… well, I – I used to hug my grandmother, but she – she died when I was nine,” Madeleine said, slowly. “And since then I… I guess – well – Niamh – hugged me. Once. It didn’t – it didn’t go very well. I ruined it,” And then she went moony. Madeleine didn't say that part, but her shoulders hunched up a little more, and she glanced down at her skirt. Futilely, she tugged at it, as if she could get the creases out, and she wiped at it with her hand, pushing at the dust.

Fionn had gone very red, and Madeleine didn’t know why either. He was staring at her like he was waiting for something, and – Madeleine realized it was her, she supposed. She was supposed to – he’d raised his arms, so – Madeleine glanced at the space between them, and wiped at her eyes a little again, managing to smear the dust from her skirt across her cheek in a little smudge.

Madeleine inched forward, slowly. Nothing bad happened, so she inched forward again, and then she held there, trembling, not entirely sure what to do. Fionn finished the hug, though, and Madeleine tensed as his arms wrapped around her, wondering if there would be – like backlash, a sudden sense of things snapping, of things being wrong. It didn’t come, though; there was only his arms around her, and she could feel – it wasn’t like a field, but he was warm, Madeleine realized. She hadn’t known that she was cold, but he – he was warm, and she could feel it against herself, like a blanket – not at the beginning of the night, when you first climbed into bed shivering, but later, like when you woke up in the middle of the night in winter, and it was terribly cold outside, but warm beneath the blanket, and so you tried to stay as much beneath it as possible.

Madeleine did not know what to do with her hands. She wasn’t sure if she put them around Fionn, if that was breaking the rules? He hadn’t asked for a hug, he had only offered one, and so Madeleine thought it would be wrong to hug him without having asked. Except – it was strange, standing there tucked against his chest, with his hands on her back.

“Can I hug you too?” Madeleine asked. If Fionn said yes, then, tentatively, she would settle her arms around his torso, and tuck herself a little more against him, her cheek settling against his shoulder.

Madeleine didn’t know why she started to cry again, but she did. She pressed her face into his oddly boney shoulder, as if it was a pillow, and she cried. Her whole body was shaking, and more blue bled slowly into her field, sadness washing out and filling the air around them both. She gulped, and tried to – she couldn’t bring herself to suppress it, and the faintest beginnings of an attempt only made her cry harder, her chest aching heavily. She shuddered, and sniffled, and sobbed, and –

Slowly, the blueshift drained from her field; the heavy feeling of sadness in the air around her seemed to melt away. Madeleine sniffled, and she lifted her hand behind him and wiped her nose on her sleeve, and she closed her eyes, and she – she felt better. It was strange, and awkward, and a little too warm now, and Fionn wasn’t as comfortable to hug as Niamh had been, but she hoped he wouldn’t go crazy now, and she – she felt better.

Madeleine sniffled, and took a deep breath, and felt suddenly self-conscious about how close together they were. She pulled away, a little hastily, and rubbed her face on her sleeve, her eyes red and swollen and her nose a little gross. She knelt and fetched Fionn’s handkerchief and blew her nose again, and she sat tentatively at the desk where she’d been doing her experiments, looking up at the passive.

“I was – I was trying to – ” Madeleine looked down at the scale, and then back at Fionn, and she hesitated. Hugging was definitely forbidden, but she’d done it, and nothing had gone wrong. So – maybe – it wasn’t like it was illegal to do magic in front of passives. It was illegal to teach them about it, but showing wasn’t teaching, was it? It wasn’t like he could cast the spell.

“I could show you,” Madeleine offered, tentatively, looking wide-eyed at the blond. “It’s for – for dancing. Not yet, but it’s – maybe – someday,” she lowered her red-rimmed gaze, still feeling more than a little sensitive on the subject, more than a little anxious about it all – more than a little scared.

[Fionn]

Loshis 16, 2719 | Late Evening
An Unused Classroom, Brunnhold

.

The whole thing was incredibly awkward and he honestly didn't know how to deal with some things where Maddie was concerned. Ordinarily, he might have enjoyed making some sort of crass comment about what men could do but the girl was so innocent that he didn't think that he'd get any enjoyment out of it. Any joke he made would likely offend and upset, the student unlikely to share in the fun at all. To tell her why she might have to be wary of men would be a terrible thing, he felt, taking a beautiful ignorance away from her. At the same time, he wondered how terrifying things must be if you didn't understand something like that. Did she constantly worry about what might be wrong? Good Lady, she was panicking over a hug because she didn't know if that crossed a line that no one had bothered to define for her. Evidently, ignorance wasn't bliss for her but that didn't mean that the passive wanted to enlighten her. As such, he kept purposely silent on the truth, trying to be as reassuring and non-threatening as possible.

Fionn knew that he could be intimidating, his above average height and his habitual sulkiness seeming to work well in that regard, but there were plenty of people far scarier than he was. Yet the young galdor acted as if he was a hatcher in a man's skin, something too horrible to approach despite the fact that she had agreed to embrace him. Funnily enough, for such a small thing, he found her quite disconcerting and a little frightening. Putting his arms around a girl a few years his junior really shouldn't be so nerve-wracking but somehow it was. It didn't help when she explained the hugs she'd received in the past, so few and far between, a heavy responsibility seeming to descend to his shoulders as a result; it would be awful if he messed this up. He knew what it was like to be starved of love and contact after all and he didn't want her further deterred simply because he was too stilted himself to know what to do.

The teenager was extremely glad that he didn't have a field to bleed emotions into because as Maddie inched towards him, panic rose within him. There was a certain intensity about her, the way she was regarding him as she crept forward and there was an uncanny sense that she was going to pounce on him. In spite of that, he managed to embrace her, telling himself that he was simply being ridiculous - she obviously wasn't going to do anything bad. Honestly, she didn't seem prepared to do much of anything. The girl didn't take the last steps to meet him and when he did envelop her in his arms, she was stiff and just sort of leaned against him.

The passive thought that that would be it - an awkward lean - but he was wrong.

"Hug me? Well, I thought that you would because it's uh... meant to be a two-way thing, I think so... sure, yeah," the young man murmured, trying not to sound as awkward and uncertain as he felt. With permission granted, she allowed her arms to encircle him, tense and contained. He wondered if this was how he'd been when he encountered Niamh again after the intervening years, as receptive as a block of wood as she clung to him.

His posture went rigid as she started to cry anew but he forced himself to relax as he held her a little more tightly, making soft soothing sounds and whispering that it was okay and she should let it all out. Maddie couldn't see the way that his gaze moved around as he looked in each shadowy nook and cranny for some sort of escape. The boy wanted to comfort her but he also wanted the contact to end because it was hardly enjoyable or comfortable for him. The passive made no attempt to pull away, even when he began to feel moist warmth seeping through his shirt. The sadness around them seemed to deepen, her field getting heavier and heavier with it and it was incredibly intense, overwhelming and damn near overpowering.

As he basically drowned in the midst of her emotions, he felt his own gaze prick with tears and the desire to slump and give into his own inner sadness, which was buried deep but creeping towards the surface now. Fionn persevered, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths.

It was worth it though.

The blue-shift that had been so apparent around her and which had almost smothered the young man began to dissipate. The student sobbed her heart out but this time, it actually seemed to help. The negative emotion bled away and the oppressiveness of her field waned. At last, she pulled away and while she went to retrieve the handkerchief that he’d given her, the teenager tugged the wet fabric away from his skin, her tears beginning to chill now that her warmth had gone away, and did his best to subtly flap it so it had a chance to better air and dry. The youth slipped his hands into his pockets as she turned her attention back to him, nonchalant as if he’d never been doing anything else.

Maddie’s mood was markedly better and she was distinctly less cagey than she had been. Previously, she hadn’t even reacted to his question about what magic she’d been doing, acting as if he’d never mentioned it at all because it wasn’t for the likes of him. The blond could see her reluctance, could see that she had purposely ignored his query before but his hug had apparently fostered some trust. Perhaps he wasn’t bad at this hugging business after all. It made the scrap a little happier, a timid warmth beginning to glow in his chest that sent the sadness receding back towards the dark depths from which it had slunk.

The offer of a demonstration was unexpected but the galdor couldn’t fail to see how it was received. The impassivity on his face melted away under the intense interest that came to the fore, an eager curiosity and hunger burning in his gaze.

”Yes! Please, I’d love to see!” he gasped out, taking a step closer to the scale, his zeal unmistakable. He cleared his throat, cheeks flaming a little as he tried to dial back his excitement. Fionn could be academic about this. Practical intelligence, that’s what he needed, not the palpable excitement of a child receiving a mountain of presents during the Feast of St. Grumble.

”For dancing?” he questioned, peering at the scale as he tried to make sense of that one. He recalled the balance of the confisalto, the need for a counterweight that was achieved by having each dancer balance out the other.

”Is it to do with how you balance your weight? That’s one of the reasons why you dance in pairs, right? It was a lot trickier for you when you came to model for Gus but I don’t think that he noticed,” the middle Madden confided. He frowned as he thought on it further, remembering things that Niamh had told him.

”Wait… if you want it to use it for dancing, wouldn’t that mean casting on yourself? That can be tricky, can’t it? And wouldn’t the mona… well, you aren’t meant to ask it to do anything uh…”

He paused, trying to think of the right word, trying to choose one that would be relatively inoffensive.

”You have to have good reason, don’t you? So is it for the glorification of the gods or some sort of um… aid to others?

The last sounded suspect, even to his own ears, especially in this context. He shrugged. What did he know? He was only a passive after all, right? Not that they were expected to know this sort of thing.