[Closed] Best of Intentions (Aura)

[Niamh Madden]

Hamis 10, Midday
En route to Laboratory Beta, Brunnhold

.

The change that came over Aurelie was conspicuous enough if you were looking for it. Niamh wondered if she looked like that sometimes, the professional manner taking over or some passion unseating her nervousness so that she appeared more confident than was typical for her. Something she’d said had added steel to the servant’s spine and made her straighten her shoulders; the galdor suspected that she’d touched a nerve and that this was something angry or prideful in response. As soon as the girl opened her mouth, the Living Conversationalist knew that she’d been correct, each syllable clearly voiced and sharply delivered but the formality of it was the truest proof that the young woman had been pissed off.

Niamh didn’t know what line she’d managed to cross but she didn’t like the other’s attitude, not at all. It felt as if Aurelie was hammering home the fact that she’d had work to do and there was something almost... accusatory? What was that for? Was she saying that she’d had other things to do rather than discuss research? Was it also a dig at the fact that the student had pulled her away from the kitchens? Or was she trying to highlight that herself and Fionn couldn’t have gotten up to anything in so brief a time?

I don’t think anyone — particularly Fionn — needs much time to do anything, she thought, resisting the urge to shudder. The last thing she needed was to think about her brother doing… anything and gods damn him, he didn’t even leave things to the imagination; the redhead was usually good at suppressing her imagination when Harper wasn’t involved.

However, after her initial excessively formal response, the servant paused, chewing on her lip and she could make a guess at what nerve she’d struck; Aurelie didn’t want to reveal what herself and Fionn had actually discussed. That was sufficient reason for the redhead to worry, not that she hadn’t already been doing plenty of that. She remained silent, wondering if her companion would provide Niamh with enough rope to hang her.

They were in the Sciences Building now, Niamh leading the way to the Parford Wing even though she wasn’t sure that they actually needed to go there; Aurelie might not be getting involved in the research at all.
The servant wouldn’t look in her direction and didn’t answer immediately but when she turned her focus back to the eldest Madden, there was definitely something sharper there and the stench of impropriety seemed to linger around her words.

Personal. They’d talked about matters that were personal. The final year girl didn’t manage to keep in a groan. They weren’t friends, he’d said. They wanted to be friends — Aurelie had said it in front of her when she came with her gift, another thing that Fionn had shrugged off — and so… if they were mere acquaintances who didn’t know each other, what personal things could they have had to discuss? Unfortunately, she suspected that if it had been personal, it hadn’t been unexciting at all.

But damn, she didn’t like that attitude, the way that the servant seemed to dare her to voice her thoughts. A straight question. Did she want Niamh to accuse her outright so that she could deny it or did she want to be accused outright so that she could admit to it proudly? If it had been her brother, she knew which one it was likely to be although she knew that the latter would have a far larger ‘fuck you’ attached to it. Only in the former would the research assistant be in the wrong though. If she levelled unjustified accusations at anyone then she was merely being slanderous and it said more about her mind than anything else.

However, she didn’t think that she was wrong, not with the way her brother had been carrying on, including how flippant he’d been when she’d tried to ask about what had gone on. It was the taller girl’s turn to straighten, hazel eyes flashing almost green as she turned her gaze to Aurelie, field pulsing with irritation.

“If I ask a straight question then I’ll receive a straight answer, are you quite sure of that, Miss Steerpike?” the elder Madden asked, the formality having bite to it. “Very well then. I’ll begin by telling you something that Fionn said about you, provide you with some insight into a personal discussion that I had with my brother. After I trusted you both to behave in a mature and responsible fashion alone in Keyes’ office — something I should never trust my brother to do — I asked him what the two of you had done in my absence. He was quick to assure me that he hadn’t impregnated you!”

Her voice had raised somewhat, ringing with something indignant, fuelled by remembrance and how distasteful she’d found her brother’s words.

“Given how ready he was to throw the notion of impropriety in my face, well… I know my brother and trust me, he is anything but discreet when it comes to discussing his liaisons so I know you didn’t- The two of you didn’t- Nothing would have gone that far without him singing it to anyone who could hear so you want a straight question? How about what did you actually get up to with my brother? And don’t tell me that you simply talked, because I don’t believe that. I do believe that it was personal all right! Fionn doesn’t look that pleased with himself simply because he had a conversation!”
There. She’d said it now. She might be sorry for it later. Well, in truth, she might already be sorry for it. Her voice lowered, her tone calmer.

“By rights, I should report you but I won’t. He’s my brother and I care about him deeply; he’s been through enough. You, I can see him leading down the garden path and it would hardly be good for me either, knowing that I allowed-”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes fluttering shut; the Incumbent’s daughter looked weary all of a sudden.

“I just don’t appreciate being lied to and I… I have a responsibility. To the research, to passives, to my brother. It isn’t fair to anyone if I’ve been misled here. I don’t want this work to suffer because my brother can’t control his urges around wom- anyone actually.”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Aurelie had not properly considered her outburst before she said it. Though she had mostly been upset with herself for letting Niamh's words unsettle her, her tone had been overly sharp when she spoke. Aurelie was aware that she had stepped out of line. Perhaps if Niamh had just been angry with her for that, she would have been able to apologize and walk herself back. She hadn’t spent half her lifetime in Brunnhold picking fights with every golly who raised her hackles, after all.

But Niamh had not been simply angry with Aurelie for the edge on her tongue. No, the student had chosen to try another tack. Aurelie felt heat rise in her face when Niamh decided to share that particular insight; she had heard worse, true, but rarely from a young lady of Niamh's status. Had Niamh been trying to shock or upset her? By saying these things about her own brother?

This was what truly fixed her face into a scowl, much as she tried to stop herself. Aurelie touched her arm to feel the edges of a scar through the fabric of her shirt; a reminder to control her temper. But, clock it! That had been different. That had been about her own pride, or what passed for pride with her. This time she wasn't angry about Niamh's insulting insistence that Aurelie was being led astray (a sentiment that seemed to be genetic), but rather at how unkind she was being to Fionn. Was this really necessary? Aurelie bunched her sleeve in her fist, coming to a halt soon after they entered the Sciences building.

When Niamh mentioned reporting them, Aurelie cast a sharp glance up at the taller woman, though habit forced it back down immediately. The idea made her fearful, but her anger overrode it. Aurelie wanted to dare Niamh to do it. Wanted to dare her to decide just what she thought was going on and give wretched voice to it. Only a sense that this would be unfair stopped her, reason long left to the wayside. Goading Niamh into getting them into real trouble wouldn't only hurt her, after all.

"Miss Madden, if you want the-the lurid details so badly, I suppose I can tell you. Did you get a good look at my needlework, or shall I describe it for you? I believe we discussed it at multiple points. I'm afraid I'm not very good, as I am unable to read any books on the subject and must teach myself from observation." The words came tumbling out of her faster than she could stop them. Aurelie rarely lost her temper, and was accordingly ill practiced in the art of managing it when she did. "We also discussed you, and I made a fool of myself several more times--you were there, surely your imagination can fill in the gaps."

This was all so… so… Infuriating! As if they needed to be babysat by a woman undoubtedly not much older than herself, if at all. Perhaps this was the relationship she felt she had to Fionn, but Aurelie distinctly did not remember becoming the responsibility of Niamh Madden.

"If you afraid for my virtue, please rest assured that it remains as intact as you had already assumed. Fionn was--he controlled himself perfectly fine around me." Better than I controlled myself. "Perhaps I just don't count. After all--" Aurelie swallowed, trying to keep the poison from seeping out of her. She failed. "After all, you cannot be so certain he is both incapable of discretion and self control."

And then Aurelie, too, lost steam. Niamh looked, and sounded, tired. Aurelie was furious still, but she had exhausted all the fire of it and it was cold and heavy in her stomach instead. Maybe the ability to get so firmly under her skin was genetic as well. The thought was almost amusing, but she couldn’t smile. She was too aware of everything she said. Poor track record of keeping her mouth shut, indeed.

”If there’s nothing I can do to help with the research, well I… I am interested, but surely you don’t expect me to--” Aurelie sighed again, shoulders slumping back to their more usual posture. ”I suppose I’m sorry to have wasted your time, miss. If you--there truly isn't anything worth reporting and... I'm not sure it wouldn't be worse for him than me.” She mumbled the last of it, hoping to appeal to Niamh's professed familial fondness. If Niamh was angry enough to tell someone whatever it is she thought was going on... Aurelie wasn't confident that anyone else would reach a different conclusion than Niamh seemed to: that it was Fionn's fault, not hers. It seemed a ready conclusion, and it made her heart hurt to think that her running her mouth would be the cause of it.

Good job, Aurelie. You really messed up that one.

[Niamh Madden]

Hamis 10, Midday
En route to Laboratory Beta, Brunnhold

.

She’d thought Aurelie angry before but apparently she’d sorely underestimated her. What she’d seen before was only the tip of the spear, some part of the young woman still having sufficient control not to properly jab at the galdor. That control now seemed to be gone and the passive seemed ready to go in for the kill. If it was someone else that she was trying to murder with her sharp tongue then Niamh might have cheered her on but not when it was her.

Gods no, she didn’t want to be listening to-

She hadn’t been trying to-

It was both infuriating and terrifying just how much the other woman managed to sound like Fionn though. There she was throwing facts of passive existence in Niamh’s face. They were not only sharp but barbed as well so that they made more of a mess when you tried to pull them out and process them properly. So like Fionn. He loved to hit her with that sort of thing and what was worse was that he sometimes managed to make her cry by documenting injustices like that; she always ended up feeling worse for crying because only her guilt caused it — Niamh didn’t have to suffer these sorts of things.

Part of her thought of Aurelie as just as much of an irritable little snot as the middle Madden but for the most part, her insides were squirming with guilt. It seeped out into her field, making the mona writhe as she tried to grapple with the words. She stopped when the other redhead did, holding her hands up although she wasn’t sure if she was attempting to ward her off or silently pleading with her to calm down.

Just let her get a chance to breathe to sort through everything. Give her a chance to breathe so that she could voice some sort of protest with enough force to make the onslaught stop. And yet she didn’t get that space and the words went in through her ears all the same. Venomous and mocking. That sarcastic use of ‘lurid’ was something that Fionn would have come out with, uncannily Fionn in fact. The fact that she knew the word…

Passives often picked up vocabulary from their peers and the galdori that they served but many of them still ended up constructing sentences in a manner more reminiscent of children — smart children perhaps but still childish. She was on her brother’s level but the galdor hadn’t realised it until the little mouse act disappeared. Fionn had said that he didn’t know her well, had only met her twice before that time in Keyes’ office and while she had been suspicious…

No, she could understand how they could have clicked so fast. She could understand why her brother seemed so enamoured and maybe they hadn’t actually done anything. Maybe this — what she was seeing now — had been enough to sink him. Enough to make him ridiculously protective of that handkerchief so that she hadn’t had a chance to look at it properly, or become uncharacteristically tight-lipped when Niamh had tried to ask even the most innocent of questions about her. Reticent, that’s what he’d been. What she had gotten out of him had been as difficult to acquire as blood from a stone.

Did the student lean away from her a little? By gosh she did, her field growing smaller and tighter around her although emotion still roiled dizzyingly within it — guilt, panic, upset, anger, frustration.

At last, the tirade ended, the girl’s voice becoming small and unobtrusive, sounding as tired and resigned as Niamh herself now felt. The galdor sighed.

“I’m not going to- If I was ever going to report on my brother, I assure you that he’s given me more than enough reason. He’s the sort of passive that would terrify many of my peers with the way he thinks, the things he says- He can be irritating but… he’s my brother, I think it’s part of the job description,” she joked weakly, dredging up a smile but forgetting to put humour into it.

“I’ve never reported on a passive and I wouldn’t. You have enough to- And Fionn is meant to be rehabilitated or on that path and some people would love any excuse to- And he really does seem to like you. But he gets ideas into his head and I can’t clocking well keep him on a leash, even if it would be safer for him. If he wants something he finds a way and honestly, i-i-it frightens me how bloodyminded he can be.”

There was a catch in her voice, the threat of tears a real one that had her field blue-shift and bloated, weighed down with her many cares. She glanced around to make sure that there was no one else in sight, no witnesses or eavesdroppers and then indicated that Aurelie should start walking again. As she bent her steps towards the lab once more, the final year girl kept her voice low, allowing little space between herself and the servant.

“You haven’t wasted my time, I can just explain but- I feel like I’d be more likely to put you off than garner your interest. Professor Moore has passion and Fionn has plenty of it as well but he’s also generally persuasive so I thought it he’d told you- It doesn’t matter, I’ll try and maybe… maybe I can get someone else to talk to you too, maybe when Harper...” she lapsed into silence, chewing her lip as she walked quickly, brows furrowed in thought.

There was plenty of things that she didn’t want to say out in the open and she also didn’t want to start another argument either. She couldn’t let silence reign though.

“I could get you books on embroidery, you know. I understand that some people learn better by doing it but- Embroidery books are easier and far less troublesome than some of the things that I’m asked for. You’d have to keep them in the lab though, assuming that you… come to work with us,” the tall girl explained tentatively, feeling as if she’d extended a flag of truce. “I- You either read a lot as a child or you still read anyway. The way you talk- Passives don’t usually- Fionn used to spend houses in the library at home, he knew words that I didn’t until well… pretty recently if I’m honest. It’s a waste. You’ve both got the aptitude and- It’s such a bloody waste!”

Again, she huffed out a sigh, lapsing into silence once more, troubled. Aurelie has plenty of opportunity to ask questions provided that she wasn’t too stunned — and had a notion where to start! Provided that there were no more stoppages, it wouldn’t be long before Niamh’s rapid set of pace brought them to the door of Laboratory Beta. She tried the handle, found it locked as she had left it and nodding to herself, she fished in her skirt pocket for the key.

“Will you have some tea?” she asked preemptively as she fitted the key in the lock. Tea was such a calming thing, the making of it a soothing ritual for the galdor at this point as it didn’t require any thought on her part.

The lock clicked open and she pulled the key free, turning the handle as she did so to swing the portal inwards.

“After you, Miss Steerpike.”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

A small part of Aurelie felt guilty when Niamh leaned away from her in the middle of her tirade. She hadn’t meant to--well, no, that wasn’t true. She had meant to inspire this reaction. While Aurelie herself was not aware of it, she was doing a very impressive impersonation of her own sister and mother when they were in a mood. She had absolutely meant to strike out at the other woman, but she didn’t like that she had. The ashes of her anger cooled and she had the good sense to feel sorry. When Niamh made her joke, Aurelie tried to smile back. She wasn’t sure it worked.

Even as upset as she was, her foolish heart perked up at Niamh’s casual mention that Fionn liked her. He had said so, of course, but it was different to hear it from the mouth of another person, who had no real reason to want her to think so. Aurelie bit down on the urge to shake Niamh and ask her for details. A light little smile fluttered across her face. She tried to suppress it--it really did seem almost ghoulish when Niamh sounded so close to tears--but it escaped.

It was something of a relief then when Niamh once again began walking towards the lab and gestured for Aurelie to follow. So she hadn’t ruined things entirely. At least, it didn’t seem that way. That was very good--not only because she truly was at least a little bit genuinely interested in the research itself, but also because she hadn’t managed to think of a better plan to find some way to see Fionn again. The thought made her feel a little guilty. She was absolutely lying to Niamh, but, well. It was either that or rely on coincidence, and she was unwilling to do the latter. It wasn’t a full lie, just--surely it was alright if she was actually helpful. Somehow.

”Oh! That’s… That would be--Would you truly...?” The student’s peace offering took her aback. She hadn’t meant to--it was only a barb, meant to be a hurtful reminder of where they stood. Still, the idea of being able to further her skill… The embroidery had been something she’d started on a whim a few years ago, just something to occupy her hands and soothe her mind when she wasn’t at work, but she’d come to truly enjoy it. Even just the acknowledgement of her desire touched her more than she would have expected. Truthfully, she was not a particularly strong reader--if there was anything unusual about the way she spoke, it came from listening to others around her and a family history of eloquent speakers. There was no way she would admit this now, however. And embroidery books tended to have illustrations.

”I--” The passive hesitated at the doorway, her brow furrowed and her expression troubled. Niamh was being so kind, she didn’t know what to do with it. ”That would be--er, lovely. I--I am sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Aurelie waved her hands vaguely, looking away now that her shame had time to catch up to her. After a moment’s hesitation more, she stepped timidly inside as she was bid.

[Niamh Madden]

Hamis 10, Midday
En route to Laboratory Beta, Brunnhold

.

A smile had flitted across Aura’s face, a light sort of delight and while the student didn’t know why — not for certain anyway — she could make a guess at what had done it. She’d mentioned Fionn in the midst of her little spiel, hadn’t she? Yes, it had been an off-hand sort of thing but she’d commented that her brother liked the kitchen maid. She didn’t say anything but she filed away that information, the dreamy way she smiled and felt a pang of… something. It was both familiar and troublesome for her. She managed to feel empathy and worry at the same time; it wasn’t an enjoyable experience. She knew that head over heels look but what was more, she knew that a similar smile had crossed her own lips when she’d told Fionn that she’d kissed Harper and he’d reciprocated her interest. The golly had just confirmed it for Aura but… she’d smiled like that earlier as well, the mere mention of him-

She still worried that he’d done something. Had he kissed her? She knew that her brother was a fan of kissing first and asking questions later. It was a natural way to express interest although he might just have used words instead. She didn’t know. She was almost afraid to ask directly, not just because she was afraid of starting another argument but out of fear of the answer she’d receive.

The subject of reading was safer — not in some people’s minds admittedly — and a happier one, so much so that the student was able to dredge up a more genuine smile. Of course, she’d get her books. It wouldn’t be difficult and she didn’t see the harm in allowing her to have such things. As far as Niamh was concerned, she had as much right to learn as anybody else and if she was actually interested in learning, actually had a hobby outside the drudgery that was typical of passives then that was wonderful and the Living Conversationalist was only too glad to do anything that would make her life even a little better.

When they got to the lab itself, Aurelie didn’t even seem curious to see inside, more concerned with offering apologies than getting a glimpse of the place that had sparked so many rumours — the Chamber of Horrors.

“You don’t have to apologise — you shouldn’t have to — not when I was the one who was prying. Yes, I meant well or I meant- I don’t want anyone hurt, not you, not my brother, and so I just wanted to know if he’d- I didn’t-” the young woman broke off, taking a deep breath while she collected her thoughts, doing her best not to just blurt whatever passed through her mind.

“I know he can be selfish but I also shouldn’t have suspected him of getting you to agree to the work just so he could see you and — I don’t know — kiss you in the lab or something. But… it’s Fionn. I can’t rule anything out with him. It was personal though, and not my business but passives of differing sexes aren’t meant to have relationships and- It’s not a matter of good self-control. Things can just…”

The young woman made a flapping gesture, scarlet in the face. She cleared her throat, ushering her companion into the room so that she didn’t have to embarrass herself any more. Aurelie would find herself in a room like an office with bookshelves against its walls and comfortable chairs to sit in. A phosphor lamp was kept here at all times and there were the remnants of burned down candles that showed that these were typically used to light the space as well. There were two doors leading off from this office space, one shut and the other ajar, affording a glimpse into a room with a bed, odd contraptions and a work table with papers scattered across its surface.

“Anyway this uh… where the horrors happen. Terrifying as you can see although… yeah, the stuff in the lab probably does seem a bit strange, don’t mind that,” the eldest Madden explained, waving vaguely in the direction of the open doorway as she went to sort out the tea things. “So I’ll make some tea and we’ll discuss things, I suppose. Not uh… what we talked about before, although you really don’t have to worry, I’m used to abuse. I don’t know if you’ve had many dealings with Fionn’s tongue- Uh… what I mean is um- He can be very scathing, yes. Sharp,” the young woman explained awkwardly, the redness in her face persisting.

This was going swell.

She set water to boil and measured out tea leaves as she waited. “My brother’s sharp and he’s got quite the temper, I have as well so you can imagine, but uh… yeah, I don’t think I’m as good at hurting. He’s very good at it. He has a talent, I think it’s because he’s too smart for his own good and I’m hardly helping there. Any subject he wants information on, I get him information on it — not magic, mind, that’s illegal — but anything else that appeals to his curiosity so I can get you embroidery books, yes. Other subjects as well. Whatever you want — within reason of course.”

Niamh wasn’t entirely certain where to put herself, unsure how she should address their relationship in this situation, terribly self-conscious and aware that she couldn’t expect Aurelie to just decide to seat herself — she couldn’t go towering over her either.

“Please, make yourself comfortable! I know it must be strange, you aren’t accustomed to being treated as if you’re on a level with galdori. I suppose most of what comes out of my mouth must seem… quite inappropriate. The offer of tea must be a shock, which means that you really might get a surprise in a minute when I start talking about things that sound impossible.”

She made an attempt to fold her hands neatly in front of her, hoping to appear calm but also trying to appear friendly — she didn’t want anything to sound like it might have an accusation attached.

“I know you didn’t really talk about the research but I don’t suppose that my brother talked about… passives having fields, did he? Well, like fields. Actually no, they aren’t that similar- Did he mention something called a nexus to you? Nexi?” she questioned, twisting her hands before her.

She was going about this all wrong. She wasn’t the right person for this discussion at all.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Aurelie stepped quickly inside the room at Niamh’s ushering, turning her face away so that she couldn’t see her expression. If Niamh was trying to lure Aurelie into saying or doing something stupid, she had picked the exact right image to make her do so. Aurelie looked around the room instead, hoping to look interested and not like she was avoiding having Niamh see her face. Why, why, on all of Vita, did Niamh bring up kissing. The bookshelves and furniture in the small office were fascinating and required her full attention, she thought. No room at all left to think about that, no. Who would? Not her, certainly. Her imagination conjured up no images whatsoever.

Although, the more she looked, the more interested she really was. This was a far cry from the den of horrors described to her in breathless whispers by others. While she hadn’t expected that, she had expected something more… laboratorial. Less like a comfortably appointed office, filled with candles and lamps and furniture. Aurelie followed where Niamh indicated with her eyes, following through the open doorway into what she supposed was likely the laboratory proper. There certainly seemed to be a bit more of what she was expecting in the other room. Aurelie wanted to ask questions about it, but was feeling hesitant to open her mouth after her display in the hallway.

The word “abuse” made her cringe; she really had been… harsh. Oh, her and her big mouth--she supposed she was lucky Niamh was used to more from her brother. And that she was startlingly, genuinely, trying to be kind.

”Ah--yes, I’ve encountered his-- er, that is, yes. I, er. When we met--that is to say… yes.” What she had meant as just an acknowledgement that yes, she had been somewhat on the receiving end of his temper at least once. Though not undeservedly. How she came to find herself in this current position was very strange indeed. Strange, too, to think about it now, just a month later. She remembered being quite irritated at the time, and exhausted, and assured she’d never see him again. The stain had never quite come out of her uniform, as she was no deft hand with laundry. Yes, it hadn’t been a precisely pleasant encounter--and now she smiled a little to herself, thinking about it. Chimes, she’d lost her mind.

Niamh continuing to speak brought her back to the present moment, and she tried to arrange her thoughts into something approaching a sensible order. Niamh was--was asking her to make herself comfortable, which was so strange it had the opposite effect. Aurelie’s posture stiffened. She wanted to say that she’d prefer to remain standing, but immediately realized this would make the other, even stranger offer of tea rather awkward. She mechanically moved to a chair, coming to rest on the very front edge, as if prepared to leap out of it at any moment. She didn’t feel the need to confirm the strangeness of this entire arrangement--it was patently absurd from nose to tail. This conversation was certainly less tense than any other subject (Fionn) they could be discussing (Fionn, again) or had been already (yes, Fionn). Feeling stupid was something she was used to.

”N-no, he hadn’t mentioned it…” Aurelie wrinkled her brow, curiosity caught. What did that mean, like a field, but not? They didn’t have fields of any sort--that’s what the whole arrangement was. The mona would not listen to them, except, she supposed, when they chose to act through them. There were a great many things she didn’t understand, but that was something basic, something she’d learned in childhood before she ever even arrived. Surely if there was something approaching a field, it could be--felt. She would have noticed. Wouldn’t she have?

”Is that--is that what the research is about? How is that even possible--wouldn’t someone have noticed before now, surely? There are--scraps are rare, but we’re not--” Aurelie bit her lip to stem the tide of her disbelief. She didn't want to overwhelm, or say something foolish. She'd done plenty of that already.

[Niamh Madden]

Hamis 10, Midday
Laboratory Beta, Brunnhold

.

The young woman almost choked about the topic of… Fionn’s tongue. Oh dear. Niamh hadn’t meant to say it like that, especially as once it was out, it sounded almost accusatory or as if she was fishing for information. Again. As it was, it seemed as if she’d accidentally gotten information anyway.

Fuck... she thought, the expletive one that only occasionally flitted into her mind and even more rarely escaped her lips. She might have bitten her brother’s head off for using such a word, considering it vulgar, but it seemed apt right now. Maybe she’d read too much into that stutter but with the way the servant had flushed and almost swallowed her own tongue in the process-

“I uh… I’m sure that you erm encountered- Yes,” the sorceress managed to squeeze out awkwardly, eking out the embarrassment for them both. Couldn’t run out of the reason to be flushed after all!

Fuck!

There was no way that Niamh was broaching the subject with her again about what herself and Fionn might or might not have done. She was rather more inclined to ask her brother directly now though. He certainly wouldn’t turn into a scarlet, stuttering mess at the inquiry although his sister probably would!

But she’d encountered Fionn’s temper, that was all the eldest Madden girl had been getting at and it was all—for now—what Niamh knew for certain. Then Aurelie would be able to show that her exhibition of fury had been undoubtedly upsetting but hardly a new experience for her; the student had had to weather far, far worse and by someone who knew precisely where her soft spots were.

She tried to ignore the little smirk — and its implications — because it was so out of place given the subject matter. She tried to tell herself that it was a misunderstanding, like a trick of the light and did her best to wallow in her own desperate delusions.

In the Lady’s Name, what have you done, Fionn?

At least the initial tea preparations gave the galdor good reason not to look at the other’s face, even though she had to admit that the glow of infatuation was a pretty sight on the girl’s features. Women weren’t her thing but it didn’t make her blind or incapable of passing judgement. Aurelie might not be beautiful, not the sort to be the muse of lovelorn artists made ill with want at the mere sight of her, but she was more than passingly fair. Pretty — something innocent in the soft plumpness of her face’s curves — and quite expressive. Niamh didn’t have the same artistic eye that Fionn did but she could see the animation there, the sweet variants of her features as her moods shifted. And prettier perhaps because she seemed unconscious of it—she probably didn’t think of herself as pretty at all! And her brother seemed to make her all the prettier as she practically glowed at the mere mention of him. She could only imagine what sort of effect that would have on Fionn, especially when it wasn’t something self-consciously contained, features not allowed to bloom to display the full depths of her delight.

Unfortunately, Niamh couldn’t keep her attention away from her companion’s face forever, and worse still, she couldn’t avoid the subject of her younger sibling either—he had come up with some very excellent descriptors for nexi, ones that would probably be very helpful to someone who hadn’t recognised it yet. Actually he said a lot of things that might prove to be helpful. She didn’t have to give him credit for his words — mean as that would be — but his name was likely to slip from her lips accidentally, not in the habit of having to avoid it when she was discussing something that he was so intertwined with. The research might be in galdori hands but so much of the rhetoric that she’d been listening to concerning it over the past few months had come from the blond’s mouth rather than Harper’s.

It was likely to come out and while she was sorry in advance, there was little that the Living Conversationalist could do about it in truth. If it allowed her to explain properly and didn’t put the servant off then it was a necessary evil.

“I can understand your confusion — your disbelief — because you’ve always been told that passives are the very antithesis—opposite—of what galdori are, even what wicks are. Your completely removed from magic and so of course you can’t have a field. It’s a universal truth, everybody knows it. Which means that people don’t question it,” she explained, an edge of disgust in her voice.

She had thought it too, they’d all thought it but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t a terrible thing, unimaginably stupid and not to mention arrogant. As if they could know so much that they could class something as an absolute truth.

Her hands knotted before her as she continued, fingers squirming over each other uncomfortably as she gazed down at them with a frown.

“It’s self-fulfilling, you see. If you so strongly believe that something can’t exist then it doesn’t matter if the evidence is there, you can just delude yourself utterly. There are people who have worked with passives for years, been close to them and if they’ve felt something then well… that was just silly, wasn’t it because there’s nothing there. That’s not true. Not at all.”

Hazel eyes rose to the girl’s face, trying to catch her gaze as a sad smile curved her lips.

“It makes perfect sense to anyone who considers it for half a second. We say that passives are like humans because you aren’t blessed with magic, like humans but from magical stock. The parallel is hardly perfect though because you aren’t entirely removed from magic; you have diableries. You don’t have control of the mona in those instances, it’s true, but humans don’t even have that. The fact that you can produce magic, even wild and uncontrolled, points to the presence of ley lines or some other channels for the mona to use — I don’t know if you have something unique or not. But where the mona goes, it leaves a trace.”

A warmer smile flickered across her features, a little wry and she released a soft laugh as the water bubbled away rapidly, coming to the boil. She turned away to watch it, ready to pour it over the dried leaves that waited to infuse with it.

“Galdori fields are loud and showy — that’s how Fionn describes it and he’s not wrong. We’re very obvious, quite in your face. Wicks aren’t quite as noisy—for want of a better word—but their glamours are still difficult to miss. So galdori shout, wicks talk and passives whisper. Except it’s that kind of whisper that’s almost under your breath, something that you imagine you hear but you think your mind is playing tricks on you. That’s what it’s like initially anyway. Once you ‘hear’ it so to speak, it’s suddenly rather more noticeable. In fact, it’s hard to believe that you could ever have missed it.”

She poured the boiling water into the teapot, careful not to splash any of the scalding droplets out — her hands were shaking.

“When you feel a galdor, you don’t have to even think for a moment about it. You aren’t tuning in, it’s just shoved onto your senses whether you want it or not — apologies for that by the way,” the redhead murmured, tugging her own aura a little more closely around her, self-conscious. It was no longer as excitable and chaotic but had grown quiet and calm.

“What you have, a nexus or nexi for the plural, sits almost at the edge of your senses. It’s the thing that’s almost out of earshot, that thing that you see in the corner of your eye if you hold your head a certain way, the feel of being watched so that the hair on your skin prickles. All flowery descriptions, I know but… it’s difficult to describe. Basically, what you feel a field, if you sense off to one side, focusing on the background then you find what you have. And you don’t have to take my word for it, you’ll be able to find it out for yourself — not right now when I’m overwhelming you but later. I understand that it’s best done when you’re alone. Once you grow more sensitive, it won’t matter. Once that happens, you’ll feel every nexus that you come across.”

This time, she laughed a little more warmly, turning to her companion as she let the tea stew. There was a fondness on her features at the remembrance.

“Fionn tells me that the others think he’s a bit creepy because he always seems to know when they’re around and they don’t understand how he could know. That’s the reason, he’s become very sensitive to nexi, probably more sensitive than we are because he’s with other passives so much. But he can’t tell anyone that. It amuses him, everyone thinking that he’s something paranormal.”

She turned her attention back to the brewing beverage, giving the teapot’s contents a little swirl before she poured.

“So Miss- Can I call you Aurelie? Is that too familiar too soon? You wouldn’t be used to- Well, anyway… how do you take your tea?”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

What Niamh was telling her was--strange. Aurelie's face creased in a small frown as she tried to follow the logic. It wasn't that the shape of the words were confusing, but she was uncertain she followed the thread that connected them. Not nothing then, but--but a something. Different than what should have been there, but not... not nothing at all. Something. She wasn't sure if the idea that they did not simply lack ley lines was of any comfort to her. It seemed to her, then, that this lent weight to the theory that they were cursed, after all. Why else would magic only come to them to do harm?

Aurelie said nothing, but her attention was now riveted on Niamh's face. A whisper--yes, that seemed right. If such a thing was there, and she had no reason to doubt what she was being told, then that it should be so quiet as to go unnoticed was fitting. How did the saying go--that they were not to be seen or heard, but to work softly and swiftly? Something to that effect. Even the mona agreed, it seemed.

"Oh!" She couldn't help but let out a little sound of sudden understanding. She hadn't had time to wonder, the other week, how Fionn had known Matron was coming. She was far too busy acting frightened enough to get them both in trouble. But she realized now--the rumors, that was how he did it. By just--knowing something they didn't. It was so simple she almost laughed out loud, some of the tension draining out of her posture.

"He would like that," she murmured, more to herself than meant for Niamh. They didn't know each other well, but that seemed to fit the picture she was forming. She smiled, as much at Niamh's obvious fondness as anything. That was pleasant, she decided. Better than being uncomfortable, or shrinking away. Aurelie was still inclined to be cautious, but she could be circumspect and friendly at the same time. Probably.

"Aurelie is--yes that's... that's fine." Aurelie blinked. It was still unsettling to have someone be polite to her. She had been so lost in thought that tea had been forgotten entirely, though she'd been watching Niamh as she made it. Her fingers itched to stop her--to-- oh this was all just very strange. "Plain is--that's fine. I should--hmm. Thank you..." Her hands stretched out to attempt to help in some way, then settled back again. It felt very odd, to not be on the other side of this arrangement. She wasn't sure she liked it. She felt useless. Idle.

For a moment she contemplated the beverage Niamh poured, thinking. She simply hadn't any other education to interfere with her acceptance of what Niamh said as true. Surely she would know better than Aurelie after all, and if it was a lie--what a very strange one it would be. But she wasn't sure it made sense to her. Not yet. She turned the idea over in her mind, prodding this way and that.

"Do you mind if..." Aurelie spoke slowly, searching for what she was trying to ask. Something was still... strange. She bit the inside of her mouth, eyebrows knit together as she thought. "Do you mind if I ask a question...? I'm sorry if it's, er, well, foolish. Children--children have no field, any more than I do. Nobody does, until they cast for the first time." Each word dragged out of her, unsure. This was all--she hadn't thought about this in so long. Not since she was a child herself, dreaming of an adulthood that would never come. "But if we... If there is, er, a-a something... A not-nothing, not-field... Where does it come from?" Her cheeks colored. That was undoubtedly a stupid question. If Niamh didn't think Aurelie a fool before, she would now. Still, she wanted to know. She might as well reveal herself for an idiot now and get it out of the way.

[Niamh Madden]

Hamis 10, Midday
Laboratory Beta, Brunnhold

.

Niamh had no idea if she was explaining this effectively at all and given that Aura was staring at her with a little frown, she wasn’t feeling particularly reassured. Someone else should be explaining this because they’d be better at this than she was. Anyone could explain it better than she could. Clocking hell, a dog could probably do a better job. A dead dog.

Aurelie’s silence wasn’t something that she took as a sign of stupidity — she didn’t doubt the girl’s intelligence — but rather as a failing on her own part. The subject that she was discussing was a complex one and one that sounded somewhat deranged because it flew in the face of a basic and foundational truth in their society. It was a truth that had gone unquestioned because the evidence seemed to speak for itself — passives were empty, vacant, unblessed. The idea of the nexus would seem crazy and difficult to believe even when it was offered up by the most persuasive of tongues.

Niamh did not have a particularly persuasive tongue.

The eldest Madden might be the daughter of a politician and a woman who was considered a ‘delight’ at political parties — plenty of men at those parties and Eliza was always delightful to men — but she hadn’t inherited their gifts. Oísin had inherited it — it was how he got away with being a serious prick but always had a circle — and so had Fionn, perhaps to a greater degree than his younger brother because his talent had emerged without the nurturing that Oísin’s had had. Alas, it had skipped over her and so here she was—struggling.

Embarrassingly, the first real response she got out of the passive had to do with Fionn and his little magic trick—ironically magic free in spite of what the rumours of him seemed to suggest. At least it was a sign that her companion hadn’t zoned out completely and had actually been listening. It was a shame that her ‘oh’ of realisation hadn’t been for something a bit more… pertinent. Admittedly, if she understood that Fionn could actually sense other passives then she’d certainly grasped things, at least in theory but she probably still thought that the galdor was talking out her erse. Skepticism was to be expected, provided that Aurelie had in fact reached that stage.

“He does like it although… I think it makes him feel sad as well. Lonely. Even though he’s around others like him, he’s still alone because others don’t know,” the young woman commented with a sigh, her smile dipping into a worried little frown. The fact that a select few galdori didn’t make him feel any better; Niamh thought that it actually made the whole situation worse for him. They didn’t understand. He frequently told his sister that she wasn’t a passive so she couldn’t grasp things from his perspective, no matter how much she might try to empathise. She didn’t have a nexus, she couldn’t possibly appreciate what it was like.

From what she’d been told by her brother, Lars wasn’t hugely concerned about the mystery of the nexi. Apparently, when they’d both had it explained to them — there was some story there about how that opportunity had come about although no one would tell her — the Hessean hadn’t had the same fire lit within him that Fionn had. The student wasn’t certain that the professors attempted to explain the nexi to every passive from what she gathered. There might not be anyone else with both understanding and fascination or perhaps it was less about fascination and more a matter of curiosity; a lot of passives lost their sense of curiosity or interest in much beyond the toil of their daily lives.

Thus, when Aurelie hazarded a question, Niamh felt a flutter of excitement within her that had nothing to do with whatever the girl had to say. Curiosity was a wonderful sign and what was more, her question was actually a bloody good one — not one that the sorceress had considered asking herself. Had the professors? Probably, they thought of these sorts of things so undoubtedly they had. If her brother had thought of it though, he hadn’t mentioned it to her and Fionn did love to run his thoughts and theories past her.

With the plain black tea deposited in a teacup, she balanced it carefully on its saucer and approached her guest with it, a warm smile accompanying the beverage.

“Don’t apologise, Aurelie, it’s far from foolish. It’s not one I’ve considered myself—stupid of me, I know—but the professors probably have thoughts on the matter. At the present time, they’re more concerned with mapping what it is and doing their best to discern as much of its nature as they can so perhaps its origins are a less pressing matter right now. It’d be a logical follow-up though to consider how and why it appears and why it presents differently.”

She held the saucer out to the other woman, half of the little plate clear of her touch while her fingers kept the cup in place, light on the porcelain vessel with the handle turned so that it was more accessible to Aurelie than her.

“Here, we’re more likely to work with older passives, those who’ve been gated for a number of years so there’s no easy way to tell if they have it when they arrive or not. I don’t think you have to have had a diablerie to have it appear — diablerie are rare after all — whereas nexi are common and I don’t think we’ve encountered any without them. I don’t know if experiencing a diablerie makes them stronger, I don’t know if they’re so quiet and unobtrusive because the mona doesn’t flow through them or if they’re just different in nature entirely. Possibly we shouldn’t think of them the way that we think of fields. That’s what Fionn thinks but- No, nevermind, that’s not important,” she sighed, nibbling at her lip as she considered her next words carefully.

Once the tea had been successfully passed over, fingers would coax hair back behind her ear, twisting the tamed lock in an obviously nervous gesture before she went to sort her own tea.

“To hazard an answer to your question — bearing in mind that we don’t have any information about it as far as I know — it’s possible that it appears when a child tries to cast,” she admitted, letting out a surprised bark of laughter and than laughing in a more delighted fashion—it seemed so obvious now!

“For the initiation test, you attempt to cast and your performance is scored accordingly but that test is designed to pick up fields or rather a very particular response from the mona, which causes them to form an aura around a galdor. If a nexus is a different sort of response rather than an absence then… there’s no reason why the test would pick it up. It’s not made to pick up anything outside of what we’ve always known so it’s possible—nay, probable—that it comes from the same place that a galdor’s field does initially: the casting during the initiation.”

Finishing with the preparation of her own tea, the galdor carried it with her to one of the armchairs and seated herself neatly, crossing her feet at the ankles.

“You don’t have a field but you’re probably still not the same as small children. I haven’t been around any little ones since I found out about this sort of thing, which is relatively recently. You’re definitely different than humans. But you do have something, I can assure you of that. I’ve been able to feel yours since well… the first moment I met you—or rather just before it, when I felt it through Keyes’ door after you knocked.”

The redhead set her tea down on a little side table and fussed with her skirt, a self-conscious flush to her cheeks. The Madden daughter felt that she still wasn’t talking about this in quite the right terms.

“You’re one of only a few galdori-born children who possess this and it’s possible that it’s… an improvement on what ordinary galdori have, just unharnessed. If we can untangle it, it might turn out that you’re the cream of the crop.”

She sipped her tea. Had she sounded trite? Niamh certainly hoped not.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Niamh's frown was mirrored briefly on Aurelie's face. Yes, she could imagine that being lonely. To be different, even in small ways, could be isolating. They were all of them, she often thought, lonely. Together all the time, and unable to leave, and yet lonely all the same.

For a moment Aurelie's thoughts drifted to the other week in Professor Keyes' office, not to dwell on embarassment or events but instead to reflect on the image of the young man she'd seen there. She hadn't envied Fionn his place with the professor when they first met, either--Aurelie thought now that she may have been right. To be special and to be understood were not the same. Aurelie tried not to let this show on her face, instead taking the tea offered to her from Niamh with a slight smile and a polite murmur of thanks.

Not a foolish question after all! Aurelie was pleased to hear it, though she couldn't have said why. Did the professors know? She wasn't much concerned with the nature of passivity, at least not in the way it seemed that Fionn and perhaps the professors were. Hers was a more mechanically-oriented curiosity; not a why, but a how. That Niamh didn't know--well, Niamh was still a student herself, Aurelie reminded herself, and couldn't possibly have the answer to every question. Yet she was surprised.

"Diablerie... No, it couldn't be that... I haven't... No. What does F--nevermind." The mention of diablerie was sobering. Aurelie focused her eyes on Niamh's face, trying to keep her own thoughts clear. Still, the word struck at some cold lump of fear in her heart. Aurelie had never experienced hers, didn't know the shape of it or what she was capable of. It was a fear she carried with her always, ever since she had known just what she was, and it had only grown with the events of last winter. Maybe she would be lucky, and hers would hurt no one save perhaps herself. Or maybe she wouldn't. She hoped never to know.

With a slight mental shake, Aurelie refocused her attention on Niamh and her theory. She sipped quietly at her tea, unsure of what to make of it. That certainly seemed possible--though Niamh could have said anything, and Aurelie would likely have just nodded in acceptance. Her ignorance showing through again, she supposed. She wanted very much to share in Niamh's delight at her own theory, but found she just didn't know enough.

Still, she smiled in what she hoped was a passably encouraging way as Niamh took a seat, and even managed to stop herself from snorting out loud at her declaration that they were "probably" not the same as small children. A little ember of her anger almost ignited itself, but she snuffed it out easily enough. Niamh... likely meant well, which was more than she could say for many. More than she could say for most, in fact. She let Niamh finish her speech and took a contemplative sip of tea before speaking again, unconcerned with any discomfort the long silence might cause.

"That would be... something," she said at last. A useless statement. She didn't know how to express to this young woman who was trying so hard to be kind that she sincerely doubted there was anything so special about her--that in her wildest dreams, the most she had ever let herself wish for was a quiet life in a place she could call home. Aurelie wondered if that would make sense to Niamh. No, she realized sadly--it likely wouldn't.

Aurelie chewed at her lip, clutching her hands firmly around her cup and saucer to keep them from shifting around. She wasn't sure if--it probably wasn't wise to mention this again but... Oh, chimes, she just needed to know for certain.

"Miss Ma--Niamh," she corrected herself, her own sort of olive branch, "I hope--I just want you to know--I know you have, er, concerns but... I'm afraid I don't understand terribly well, but I would... I would like to. H-help, er. And... understand. You don't have to be--I like Fionn a great deal b-but, oh. Hmm. I woudn't want to cause any... trouble." She had probably said too much. Almost definitely had said too much. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "That is--I would like to know how I could be, ah, useful. In a, er, practical sense. If I could." So stupid!