[PM to Join] Over My Head

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720
Outside, Brunnhold Campus

It really was very cold; Madeleine’s hands didn’t hurt this time, at least, having warmed up while she was in her room and being gloved properly now. She wasn’t exactly sure whether it was a problem for her to get excessively cold or not, but she was certain it wasn’t good for her. The snow wasn’t coming down quite as strongly as it had been earlier in the day. A sliver of sun even peeked through the gray Intas sky, reflecting off the snow piled up on the ground and making Madeleine squint as she made her way through the campus’s paths, heading towards the cafeteria.

Inside the entryway, Madeleine carefully stamped the snow off her boots. She shivered, adjusting her scarf.

“Stop blocking the way!” An older girl called.

Madeleine glanced up, wide-eyed, and edged to the side, her lips pressing together. She could have, Madeleine thought, said please. She didn’t like the cafeteria; it was her least favorite part of Brunnhold. It was always noisy and awful; having meals in her room or the infirmary had been really the best part of being sick, even though none of it had been good, exactly.

Madeleine took a very deep breath, and went inside. She stayed towards the edge of the wall, near the door. She wasn’t even really sure whether Orthosophos was there or not; he had said if he were there first, he would save her a seat, but the cafeteria was really large, and she didn’t know if she should wander through all the rows looking for him. She thought she wouldn’t find him otherwise, if he were even there.

She just wasn’t sure what to do. If she went and looked and he wasn’t there, she might be looking for the whole of the lunch period and never even find him, at least not before she finished eating. If she didn’t go look, and he was there, he’d think she had stood him up.

Maybe, Madeleine thought, hopefully, he would look for her? All she could really think to do was stand by the doorway, looking around rather plaintively. Surely, Madeleine thought, if he had gone through and taken a seat, he’d look up and – wave? or something? Waving seemed sensible, Madeleine felt. If he hadn’t arrived yet, then, she thought, he’d see her when he came in.

As she waited, Madeleine glanced down at her skirt. It was, she thought ruefully, terribly creased; it always seemed to be terribly creased. She hadn’t even thought to look at her hair in the mirror before she left. Very gingerly, she reached up and touched her braid with her fingertips. It felt, she thought miserably, as if all the strands had come out. She had been working hard on her Bastian braids since the summer before, but it was awfully hard to do it without a mirror, even though her hands were sort of behind her head; she always seemed to miss lots of little bits when she couldn’t see.

She should, Madeleine thought miserably, probably just go. She waited a little longer instead, lingering just beside the doors, still hopefully looking around the tables, as if she might see Orthosophos waving for her at any moment.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720

From Theodore's room to the cafeteria, Brunhold campus

Clenching his jaw, Theodore hardly endured the cool snowing in his way to the cafeteria. He felt as though the temperature had been falling while he was in his room, although it was probably a subjective perception after the warmth in the dormitories. At any rate, all he could do was brace himself, hiding each hand under the opposite armpit, hunch over and stride as fast as his frozen feet allowed him.

Madeleine was already there. Theodore could see her in the threshold, aiming down, probably lost in deep thoughts. He raised his hand and shook it with ample movements to call her attention, but she started talking to another girl and entered.

Theodore felt a bittersweet mix of feelings when he crossed the threshold; the welcoming warmth came with the chaotic noise of hundreds of people chatting during lunch. And there was also that itchiness in his nose...

"Aaaaat... CHOOM!", he sneezed.

A few laughs could be heard around, and there was someone that even congratulated him. Gross.

Hurriedly, Theodore pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and blew the viscose contents of his nose into the fragile silk.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720
Outside, Brunnhold Campus

It wasn’t, Madeleine thought, Orthosophos’s fault if he’d forgotten, not really. That is, it was, but Madeleine was pretty sure there was something about her that made people forgetful when it came to things like getting lunch together or sitting together in class or going to the ballet or working on a project together. There had been loads of times when her parents had said they would do something and had forgotten – or gotten too busy, Madeleine couldn’t ever tell the difference – and the same thing was true for her siblings, and lots of different classmates.

The one thing they all had in common, Madeleine thought, was her. She looked around the lunch hall once more, then back down at the edge of her skirt, at the creases in it. She wasn’t quite sure what sort of person she’d have to be in order to be less forgettable. Probably her skirt shouldn’t be so creased, and her braid shouldn’t be such a mess. Madeleine swallowed a little. She did try where such things were concerned, she really did, and it didn’t seem to make a difference at all. No matter what she did, there were creases in her skirt by the end of the day, and she never remembered seeing them so badly in anyone else’s. Her hair just wouldn’t stay put, either; she brushed it and braided it and tried to remember not touch it – that was hard – but it just came loose. Did everyone else go and fix their hair between classes? Madeleine didn’t have time for that; she didn’t understand it.

A very loud sneeze came from behind her, towards the door. Madeleine glanced over, and saw Orthosophos there, blowing his red nose into a handkerchief. Her face brightened; all her thoughts forgotten, she took the few steps back towards him, politely looking away as he finished wiping his nose. It was, she felt, terribly gross, but seeing as shed cried twice in front of him she didn’t see how she could be too mean about it, really. Although she hadn’t blown her nose like that, of course.

Once he seemed to be done, Madeleine glanced back over, greeting him with a smile and a polite caprise. “Um, hello,” she said, and then immediately regretted it – she’d only just seen him! She was sure he must have thought her an enormous idiot.

“Should we go get some food?” Madeleine asked. If Orthosophos agreed, Madeleine would head towards the line at the food counter, walking so he could keep pace with her, and they could stand next to one another amidst all the other students, mostly laughing or chatting, some reading with their heads down or standing alone.

“Was it, um, very far to your room?” Madeleine asked, politely, uncertain how to make conversation just now. She shifted a little in the line, glancing over at the front of it, and then back to Orthosophos.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720

Outside, Brunhold campus

Cleaning your nose is a complex task that must be accomplished with the utmost perfection in order to offer the incoming air a smooth way into your lungs. Additionally, a poorly cleaned nose could show an unpleasant look when seen from below, so Theodore busily worked with his handkerchief until his nose could not be described with other word than "pristine".

It was then, and only then, that a familiar voice greeted him with a smile and a caprice. He found himself smiling back and enveloping her with his own caprice, expressing warmth and, for the first time since he knew the cafeteria, comfort. She proposed to get some food and he nodded.

"Sure!", he replied, heading to the counter where the most palatable delicacies were exposed. It was true that the cafeteria was not precisely the grand palace of high cuisine, but it happened that this day his favourite salad was available: salted cod and tangerine slices over a bed of lettuce, onion and carrot strips, with a slight touch of red berries on top.

The red haired student returned from his culinary paradise when Madeleine asked him about the distance from his room to the cafeteria. She had caught him!

"Well, er...", he blushed and scratched his nape, trying to find the words. "I must confess that... after a morning of intense work... I sat down in my bed to take a breath and... perhaps I stood there for a while", he explained shyly, before covering his mouth with his right hand and letting his eyebrows slide down around the outer sides of his eyes. "I'm sorry, you must have been waiting for a long time...", he apologized.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Lunch time, Intas 8, 2720
The Cafeteria

Madeleine glanced over at the countertop. There was a sort of fish and fruit salad, and another pasta one which looked sort of dreadful, oddly gray. Next to it there was a vegetable tart, and then another one with egg and vegetables, and then the usual sort of chicken and other vegetables stuff.

She did not really feel very hungry; her stomach felt sort of strange, but mostly knotted up rather than anything. None of the food looked exactly nice; some of it looked better than others, of course, but that wasn’t quite the same, was it?

Orthosophos seemed to find her question embarrassing. Madeleine had a sinking feeling she had said the wrong thing, as she always seemed to. He went on, and her cheeks pinked a little; she hadn’t meant to make him admit anything like that.

“No! No, not – not very long,” Madeleine said, nervously. She looked at Orthosophos, and then down at the floor; her field withdrew, just a little, from their polite caprise, embarrassment making it harder to sustain politely and without emotion.

“I was a bit tired as well,” Madeleine admitted. She didn’t think she should say anything about beds – that seemed really inappropriate and she was a little embarrassed just having heard about his bed, although she wasn’t entirely sure if she ought to be. It was only a word – bed – but it just wasn’t the sort of thing one usually heard boys say, and – even if he was her friend – Orthosophos was a boy after all.

She did, strangely, feel a little better. She had been terribly, terribly tired in the cloister, and he had seemed as if he could cast for hours longer and do loads more experiments. It was, strangely, sort of a relief to hear that he had been tired too.

They got their food – Orthosophos took the fruit and fish salad, and Madeleine, after a little staring, took the vegetable tart.

There were some seats still – Madeleine always hated finding a seat – but they managed at one end of a table which wasn’t too full, so they weren’t all on top of anyone else, which was always awful. Madeleine smiled, rather tentatively and more than a little nervously, across the table at Orthosophos. Should they talk about class? Or should she try to make other conversation?

Class, Madeleine decided. Definitely class. “Are you specializing in physical conversation?” Madeleine asked. “What sort of – that is – is there a subfield of it you like the most…?” She fiddled with her plate, taking a little sip of water, but not really tackling the vegetable tart yet. It was, at least, somewhat warm, which was half of why she’d chosen it; it was the time of year when even inside where it wasn’t really cold, one still always felt terribly cold.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Vortas 28, 2719 - The Lunch Hour

Cafeteria

Relieved to know that Madeleine had not had to wait for a long time, Theodore took a deep breath and smiled. When he looked at her, though, he noticed she was aiming down to the floor, discretely withdrawing her caprise to a safer distance. He aimed down, too, deflating his lungs through his nose in a silent sigh while he scolded himself in his mind for having provoked such an awkward situation. Paradoxically, sometimes apologizing made things worse. Perhaps, if he had dodged the question and let her forgive his lateness without a word, the conversation would have flown in a smoother way. Life would be easier if everybody always wrote their true feelings with a perfect calligraphy.

Hearing her admit that she was a bit tired helped make the situation less tense. It had nothing to do with her endurance; the real reason was that her try to ease the conversation hinted that she still wanted to have lunch with him. Anyway, Theodore kept his field at a prudent distance, until she willingly released hers back.

He dropped part of his salad on the table - he had his mind anywhere else - and he reached his hand to his pocket to take the handkerchief to cover the chair. Fortunately, he remembered it was no longer usable and rubbed the chair with the back of his hand instead.

An uncomfortable silence invaded the table while they started eating. Well, Theodore could not see if she was eating too, because he had his eyes fixed on the salad, unable to find a conversation topic. His mind was blank and his face was blushed.

He only looked up when Madeleine asked him about his specialization, no longer blushed.

"I'm learning quantitative conversation too", he replied. "I thought it would be useful for science and engineering, but I found out that it was even better: it lets the mona speak to you in a clear and precise language, with no gap for misunderstandings. For me, this makes it better than perceptive or clairvoyant conversations, which are subject to interpretations..."

Come to think of it, Theodore did not know whether Madeleine had chosen those specializations or not.

"Of course, those kinds of conversations are richer and deeper...", he added, "well, I suppose it depends on the caster; I prefer physical and quantitative. What about you?", he asked.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Lunch time, Intas 8, 2720
The Cafeteria

Orthosophos’s face, Madeleine noticed, was sort of red before he looked up. She didn’t really know why – it wasn’t that hot in the cafeteria, although he hadn’t taken off all his layers or anything. Sometimes that did happen, when it was so cold outside; it was easy to forgot to take off one’s coat or something and get overheated in the cafeteria. But she didn’t think she should remind him to do it, and anyway, it seemed sort of inappropriate to mention anything about clothing to a male friend.

Was he a friend? Madeleine shifted, a little unsure. A male classmate, she decided. So she oughtn’t to discuss beds or clothing or – she was sure there must be other things, many other things. Classwork seemed like a good enough idea, and she thought he probably thought so too, seeing as he replied right away.

Madeleine nodded a little when he spoke about quantitative. “Oh, I’ve been taking physical and static conversations,” Madeleine explained. “My focus is really on physical conversation – especially gravity spells, actually, although I’m hoping this term or – or maybe next – to learn a little more about light. I like static also, especially phase spells and fission spells, although it’s really a lot to try to do a concentration in both, and I think I do like physical better, after all.”

Madeleine didn’t mention that she’d gotten a little behind the second half of their last term. Anyway, she’d done the best she could to keep up – she really had tried – and she’d done all the coursework and things. It just wasn’t quite the same if you weren’t going to lecture, and she knew she hadn’t done as much casting as she ought to have. That was probably why she was so tired today; it made her a little ashamed, but, as well, she wasn’t supposed to push herself too hard.

It was so hard, Madeleine thought with a brief flash of miserable self-pity, trying to balance it all.

Madeleine glanced at Orthosophos again, trying to think over what to say. “I’ve only really done quantitative conversation in support of the other two,” she added, after a moment, smiling at Orthosophos. “It is really useful! I liked what you said, I think it’s… it’s nice when things are clear and precise.”

Madeleine picked up her fork, prodding at her tart; she didn’t really feel much like eating it yet, and she set the fork back down and glanced back at Orthosophos. That was, she felt, rather all the conversation she’d had planned; she didn’t understand how it could have been over yet. There was quite a lot of lunch left to go still, and they’d already talked all about their concentrations. Maybe, she thought hopefully, he’d think of something else to say? She thought at least she could hope that he would.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Vortas 28, 2719 - The Lunch Hour

Cafeteria

Versatility is a pragmatic virtue that businesspeople and adventurers can praise. Businesspeople are always happy to hire workers who can do different jobs, because they can assign them tasks of one kind or another, depending on the workload and the available workforce for each job. Adventurers, like Uncle Epiphanos, used to seek versatility to be able to survive in case their specialist partners did not; and Theodore had read many stories about specialists who had died just because they got alone in the wilderness. Fearsome stories, because Theodore knew he was more prone to specialize in a particular skill - or set of skills - than to become a jack-of-all-trades. Regarding Madeleine, she had significantly contributed to the experiment with a conversation she was not actively seeking: quantitative; did it mean that she would keep her interest in the rest of the conversations to have a wider range of available spells in case of need? If Theodore ever chose to follow his uncle's path, he would be happy to have one like Madeleine by his side.

"I'm not searching a specialization within physical conversation yet", he replied, "although I find gravity and acceleration spells quite appealing. In fact, I think those two might work well together... perhaps one day I'll make the experiment to try measuring the efficiency of a pure acceleration spell compared to the efficiency of a mixed acceleration/gravity approach...", he trailed off.

Theodore continued eating for minutes, apparently developing the idea in his mind until he seemed to remember that he was not alone.

"Uh, er... have you learned something about temperature control yet?", he asked. "My father often complains about his machines heating too much while in operation, and a cooling spell would be quite useful to prevent that"

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Lunch time, Intas 8, 2720
The Cafeteria

Madeleine shifted a little when Theodore spoke of the spell he wanted to try. Her mouth opened, just a little, and then closed again, and her gaze dropped down to the vegetable tart on her plate. There was rather a large piece of asparagus, dark green with brown sort of stripes along the edge of it, sitting squarely in the midst of all the rest of pepper and mushroom and the like.

One of the worst parts of being sick last fall was that she hadn’t really had the time or the energy – or the privacy – to work on her own spell projects. Even now she was very afraid that if she ever told anyone about it again, they should think she was suffering from nerves once more, and had gone moony. That was what people had thought last fall; she knew they had. That it had all been real – that Ezre and Lilanee, who really were to blame for all of it, knew it was real – didn’t really matter if everyone thought you were moony. That didn’t seem fair to Madeleine, not in the least.

So she didn’t say anything; she didn’t tell Orthosophos of her own interest in combining gravity and acceleration spells. Not for the same purpose, she could have told him, but for complimentary purposes – delicately applied –

Madeleine prodded at the flaky crust of the tart, and set her fork down, her hand just a little shaky. When she looked over again he had started eating, and so with a little reluctance, Madeleine cut off a bit of the tart and nibbled at it. It wasn’t so bad; it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. She was, Madeleine realized with a bit of surprise, actually quite hungry. She cut off another piece, and was in the middle of chewing when Orthosophos spoke up again.

Madeleine looked at him, wide-eyed; she covered her mouth with her napkin, finishing the rest of her chewing and swallowing behind it – she wasn’t sure how one was meant to eat in front of other people if the very act of chewing was rude, but she supposed life did not always really make sense. This was just another one of the unfair sort of things that everyone else seemed to know how to manage without ever having been told, or else everyone had gotten together and discussed it and nobody had invited her. That, Madeleine thought, morosely, sounded about right.

“Oh, yes, loads” Madeleine nodded. “Of course really phase spells and temperature spells – there’s a lot of overlap. That is, some people do phase spells via temperature, although there are other ways to go about it as well. Temperature spells are pretty much the first thing anyone does in a more advanced static class – boiling water or, um, heating up metals and stuff. It’s really very interesting, because you have to get the spell exactly right or there can be loads of problems.”

“What does your father do?” Madeleine asked, curiously, setting her fork down once more. She was allowed to ask that, wasn’t she? She thought it was an all right sort of question, but it was really so very hard to tell.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Vortas 28, 2719 - The Lunch Hour

Cafeteria

Overlapping was an interesting characteristic of magic that opened a tricky window to learn more spells with less effort... or to reach more conversations while keeping a few specializations. If temperature control could be achieved through phase manipulation, perhaps he could unleash temperature-controlling spells by combining physic and quantitative conversations. An idea about telling the Mona to measure temperature in a mass of air and selectively pushing the hottest air in one direction while pulling the coldest air in the opposite started to shape in his mind. Applied to dissipating the excess of heat in a machine, he could make it work for hours without reaching the overheating limit.

"My father is an engineer", he replied, "He spends entire weeks or even months making calculations and sketching designs. Then he makes a miniature prototype and tests it; if it is perfect, he builds the actual machine, otherwise... well, most of my childhood toys were flawed inventions", he told her, smiling; "I used to sit a toy on top of a steam-powered automatic comb and pretend it was driving it; it was funny to watch it moving on its rolling spikes until hitting a wall..."

The truth was that the toy did not endure the whole trip to the wall. The movement of the comb was all but smooth and the supposed driver often fell of the weird vehicle before having made half of the way; nevertheless, Theodore enjoyed imagining it was still manning the machine until it found a place to... park.

"And my mother is a banker. Some people think her job is boring, but I find it fascinating: every single thing that she does can be accurately expressed with a number in a table".

He looked back at Madeleine, worried. Many people would disconnect when hearing the word number, which he had just uttered. Would she be bored?

"But I'm speaking too much about my family, what do you parents do?", he asked, prodding at a a few remaining lettuce leaves and some carrot strips in his salad.