[PM to Join] Over My Head

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720
The Cloister, the Church of the Moon

Madeleine was sure that Orthosophos was angry with her for failing the spell, even though he’d still managed a measurement of the pebble falling without it. He looked at her, very seriously, and he agreed, but Madeleine didn’t know whether he meant it. She wasn’t sure; she thought he probably didn’t.

She stared down at the floor as he began to cast; with a little jolt, she noticed that he’d amended the spell to cast it the way she had done it, to affect a larger area. Madeleine swallowed, trembling, and took a deep breath. He asked if he should drop the pebble, and she glanced over at him.

Madeleine took another breath, and began to cast, beginning with the invocation and moving on to her request of the mona. Her voice quivered midway through, and she lost track of the spell; she didn’t stop, finishing the words, but the gathering quantitative mona around her seemed to fizzle out.

Madeleine’s lips trembled; a sharp, sudden wave of blue washed out from her, and she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m sure an awful partner,” she told Orthosophos, miserable; she fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief and rubbed at her eyes with it, taking a deep breath. “I know what – what I did wrong, that time. I’ll… I’ll just – I’ll try once more, if you can hold it."

Madeleine’s lower lip was trembling now; a few tears spilled down her cheeks. Maybe she wasn’t ready to come back full time to classes, she thought, miserably. But she had missed them so much – she’d missed dancing, mostly, but casting too; doing classwork from bed wasn’t the same as going to lectures and being around other people, even if they hated her for things which weren’t her fault, not really.

Sometimes it felt like the mona hated her too.

Madeleine took a deep, steadying breath. The air around her was still hazed softly blue, the blueshift of her field washing quietly out through the pale lamplight of the cloister room. She took another deep breath, and didn’t try to dampen her field or pull the feelings back into her chest. She straightened up, like she would have to dance, her chin lifted and the long line of her back straight.

Madeleine began to cast once more. One last time, she promised herself, miserably; like trying a new jump or a move en pointe. One last time, and if she fell again, that wasn’t an excuse to give up, was it? She didn’t give up on dancing, even when her legs and arms hurt and she was bruised all over from falling, even when she couldn’t do it as she had before. It would come back, her instructors had promised, even when she’d cried.

Madeleine chanted, steadily, through the blue haze around her. Her gaze was fixed on the pebble in the other student’s hands. This time, she curled the spell and she felt it take hold, the quantitative mona in the air around her shifting softly as the request washed through them.

“Drop it!” Madeleine gasped, her eyes wide, suddenly unsure how long it would hold.

He did; Madeleine watched, intently, as it fell to the ground. The number washed into her mind, and she hurriedly reached for the paper, writing it; it was two thirds of the measurement Orthosophos had taken before.

Madeleine sniffled; the blueshift was draining from her field, and if there were tears on her cheeks, she didn’t seem to mind. “It worked,” Madeleine said, shyly, glancing down at the paper and then up at the other student, a trembling little smile coming back to her lips. She offered him the notebook, taking another deep breath.

Rolls

Quantitative cast, attempt 1: SidekickBOTToday at 7:32 AM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (1) = 1
Quantitative cast, attempt 2: SidekickBOTToday at 7:32 AM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (4) = 4

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720

The Cloister, the Church of the Moon

Theodore unwillingly flinched when Madeleine's voice quivered. It was no surprise that her spell did not work.

"Don't worry", he said with a soft voice, "You'll do better next time..."

She was desolated. She even said she was an awful partner.

"I don't think so", he muttered. "We're learning together", he added, "and I'm sure we'll make a successful experiment".

Theodore was not sure whether she was listening. At the moment, she was rubbing her eyes with his handkerchief. At any rate, she looked better after that and she announced another try.

"Go on", he encouraged her.

Then she began crying. Theodore opened his mouth to ask her not to cry and even moved his hand closer to her face in order to clean her tear, but he did not dare. He just stayed there, watching her weep, then straighten up, then chant with a monotone yet beautiful voice, like crystal. Her eyes were fixed on his right hand, but they seemed to be looking a much longer distance beyond. The Mona started dancing her song...

"Drop it!" Madeleine gasped, her eyes wide.

Back to the here and now, Theodore dropped the pebble and watched it fall and hit the ground.

Then she abruptly took the paper and wrote a number.

"It worked" Madeleine said, shyly.

"It worked", he echoed, smiling as he looked at her.

He took the pebble from the floor. "I'm going to weight the pebble", he announced.

Theodore fixed his eyes on the pebble, while trying to make a sentence in Monite to express exactly what he wanted. This time, the measure was quite simple: he just wanted to know the weight of the pebble, without any conditionals; therefore the resulting spell was simple too.

He started chanting the magic words to the mona, his field reaching the pebble and enveloping it.

When the mona returned to the caster, Theodore took the paper and began writing a number with many decimals.

"Done", he declared, satisfied. "Will you measure the initial altitude?", he asked.

Roll

Theodore Orthosophos tries a spell to measure the weight of the pebble:
hoy a las 15:38
@theldor: 1d6 = (6) = 6

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720
The Cloister, the Church of the Moon

Orthosophos had said he didn’t think she was an awful partner, but Madeleine didn’t know whether she should believe him. Surely he wished he had done the experiment with someone else, someone who didn’t keep making mistakes.

But he hadn’t said he did. There were all sorts of things, Madeleine felt, that people didn’t say, and yet you were expected to understand. How they felt was generally the biggest one. You were supposed to just sort of know; it was like some sense that everyone except her had, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t make hers work.

But Orthosophos had invited her here, and he’d seemed pleased when she wanted to cast more, or at least he hadn’t made any other suggestions. When it worked, he smiled too, and Madeleine grinned back at him, taking a deep breath.

“Oh,” Madeleine said when he asked her to cast again. Her cheeks went pink with the pleasure of it; she wiped her eyes again and put her handkerchief away, feeling much better now.

“Sure,” Madeleine smiled at him. She squinted at the air, thinking - she tried first to cast a spell describing the spot to the mona. She felt something etheric in the air around her, but no information came back in. Madeleine bit her lip.

“I think it was too vague,” she said, after a moment. “Let me - oh!”

The dancer giggled, a sudden bright noise; she went to her bag, and took out a long ribbon she had forgotten to take out the night before, one which she needed for her pointe shoes. It was silky and wide, a pretty pale pink color, with rigid lines around the edges.

Madeleine smoothed it over her hand; she found the spot where the pebble had started, and after a moment of thought, let go of all but the end, so it dangled down to the ground along the same path the pebble has taken. Her boot came out and just nudged the place where it met the ground.

Madeleine knelt and picked up the ribbon, stretching it out; she began to cast then. The mona moved a little sluggishly around her, but returned the number. Grinning, triumphant, and still kneeling, Madeleine told it to Orthosophos, for their records.

Madeleine stood back up then, and wobbled; her face went pale, and her eyes lost a little of their focus. “I feel a little dizzy,” she said, uncertainty, her voice thin and strained. She went to sit on one of the benches against the wall of the small room; she leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes, her heart pounding uncomfortably, the ribbon pooled in her lap.

Rolls

Quantitative height measurement 1: @moralhazard: **Result**: 1d6 (**1**)
**Total:** 1
Quantitative height measurement 2: @moralhazard: **Result**: 1d6 (**2**)
**Total:** 2

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720

The Cloister, the Church of the Moon

At first, Theodore thought Madeleine was going to use a conventional tailor's meter to measure the altitude the pebble had fallen from, but she was determined to do it the hard way and use quantitative conversation to improve her skill. In her words, it had been "too vague", and that was not enough for her. Much like Theodore, she thought learning made the extra effort worth. Or so it seemed.

She cast again and told Theodore a number. Needless to say, he wrote it down with the rest of the notes and put everything back in his bag. Now they could start their next experiment...

"I feel a little dizzy", Madeleine suddenly said with a weak voice.

Theodore turned back to her, just to see his classmate clumsily sitting on a bench and closing her blue eyes while the colour of her cheeks was fading and fading...

His hand quickly dashed to his pocket to fetch his handkerchief, but it was no longer there, so he had to sit down on the bench without deploying the thin layer of silk that would protect his trousers from the occasional dust that might have littered on its surface.

"Relax", he said in a soft voice. "Take your time".

If she did not improve in a minute, Theodore would ask a gated passive to bring a doctor.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720
The Cloister, the Church of the Moon

It was very cold on the bench, and in the room. Madeleine sat with her hands together in her lap, her fingers holding on to the ribbon. Her fingers were a little numb, and her head was still aching. She didn’t want to open her eyes; she thought if she did she might see darkness at the edges of her vision.

It wasn’t fair, Madeleine thought. She’d never ever fainted before – not even once in her whole life – and then in the last few seasons, she’d fainted a bunch of times. It was always like this, too; first her head would go all light, and then whether she wanted to or not, she would sit down.

The doctors said that it would get better; Madeleine didn’t know if she believed them or not. How could they know? They didn’t know what had happened to her, not really.

Madeleine took another deep breath.

Orthosophos was talking to her, quietly. Madeleine could feel his field in her own, the caprise inevitable with only the two of them in the small room.

Madeleine took another deep breath. She straightened up her shoulders, and her back, and even though she was afraid, she opened her eyes. There were a few little dots dancing and fizzing across her vision, and then they went, and she was looking out at the rest of the room. Her head ached, but she felt all right.

“I feel better now,” Madeleine said, quietly. She glanced over at Orthosophos, who was sitting on the dusty bench with her; she glanced down at the ribbon in her lap, slowly, winding it around her fingers one by one, as if wrapping them up. She didn’t pull it tight, carefully overlapping the edges of it.

She stopped with two fingers wrapped up; her cheeks were glowing red, and she hastily pulled them out and bunched the ribbon up in her hand. “Sorry,” Madeleine said, uncertainly, glancing at her classmate again. “Maybe it was just – too much casting.” She took a deep breath.

This was, Madeleine felt, the worst part; trying to decide whether she was all right or whether she needed to go lie down, or else to go to the medical center. She never seemed to get it right; the doctors said things like to listen to herself, but she didn’t know how; she didn’t know what she was supposed to be saying or listening with or how any of it was supposed to work. There was only silence, when she listened, and she just had to choose.

Even when she did go back to lie down, Madeleine thought, miserably, it never seemed to really help. She only felt sick and tired in bed rather than sick and tired in class. Except sometimes last fall, when she hadn’t, she’d passed out properly, and that was really bad; it was really frightening. Every time it reminded her of a – of things she didn’t like to think about.

“I’m sorry,” Madeleine said again, in a tight voice. Her cheeks were glowing red now, and she couldn’t quite look at Orothosophos.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720

The Cloister, the Church of the Moon

She was feeling better. Or, at least, that was what Madeleine had told him, although her weak voice and her uneasy hand playing with her ribbon seemed to disagree.

Theodore glanced at her face and noticed a clear improvement in her skin colour, so he supposed she was no longer dizzy. Their eyes met and she apologized. Theodore scratched his hair, unsure of what to say.

"Maybe it was just – too much casting", Madeleine guessed.

"Quite likely", he agreed, nodding. "I think we have enough material to write an essay about the introduction", he concluded, standing up. "And we'll have plenty of time for more experiments during the..."

The crimson tone in Madeleine's face, which Theodore had initially assumed to be a symptom of recovery, had become so intense that it was rather looking like temperature.

"We might go to the doctor to have a look at you, just in case...", he proposed, dusting the part of his trousers that had been in contact with the bench. The choice was up to her, of course, and if she declined his offer, he would just say goodbye and return to his room.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720
Outside, Brunnhold Campus

Madeleine nodded, slowly, when Orthosophos said they had enough. He said they’d have time for more experiments, and Madeleine glanced up, a little wide-eyed, and managed a smile through the color in her cheeks. She nodded, taking a deep breath and straightening up.

“No, I don’t need a doctor,” Madeleine shook her head. “Can I get the measurements from you?” She asked.

Once Madeleine had copied them down, she was feeling quite a bit better. She tucked her notebook aside, and stood up, the fabric of her skirt creased beneath her legs from where she had sat down quickly and rather unceremoniously. It wasn’t fair, Madeleine felt, how her skirts always seemed to wrinkle and no one else’s did. She couldn’t tell if everyone else just paid loads of attention to how they were sitting or if she was just doing something wrong. Probably she was just doing something wrong; even when she tried – really, really tried – they always seemed to wrinkle.

“Thanks for letting me read your book,” Madeleine said, glancing at Orthosophos. It was cold outside, and her fingers ached a little; she crossed her arms over her front and tucked her hands beneath them as they made their way out of the Cloister and out into the whirling snow beyond.

She had worried that, probably, being outside should make her feel worse. If she fainted in the snow, Madeleine thought, that would be really bad; she didn’t want to. She had thought she might stay in the room after Orthosophos left, but then she had felt all right after doing her copying, and so she had thought she could go.

Now, actually outside – actually, Madeleine thought, hesitant, she felt a bit better. The cold wasn’t very nice – her cheeks were prickling – but she felt more clear-headed than she had before, anyway. Really, it wasn’t so bad.

The fourteen o’clock bells were chiming across the school; students were pouring out of buildings, here and there, and headed for the cafeteria.

“Are you going for lunch?” Madeleine asked Orthosophos, hesitant. She wasn’t, of course, asking him to lunch; that wouldn’t be very appropriate, really. She just wanted to know if he was going to lunch. She’d thought maybe of going back to her room and napping for a bit before class, but actually she felt sort of hungry; she’d skipped breakfast, Madeleine realized, again. She was just always so tired, and it was very hard to get up properly.

Madeleine shifted a little, adjusting her bookbag, arms still crossed over her chest. She scrunched up her nose against the cold, not wanting to stand in one place for too long, glancing at the other student, and not quite sure what she hoped he would say. Even if he was going to lunch, he probably wouldn't want to sit with her or anything. Madeleine usually sat alone. She didn't really like it that way but she didn't, either, know what to do about it.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720

The Cloister, the Church of the Moon

If Madeleine said she did not need a doctor, it was because she did not need one; even if she looked so feverish. Not fully convinced, but having nothing to do about it, Theodore decided to let it be and gave her the measurements.

Actually, she started looking better when she had finished writing down the numbers. She stood up and thanked him, ready to go... presumably to her room to start writing the essay, which was what he was planning to do.

Then the bells chimed fourteen o'clock, startling the unprepared student, who abruptly turned to the source of the deafening sound. He did not count the tolls, but she told him it was time for lunch.

"Wha...? Er... Yes, of course", he replied, confused; he had not expected it to be so late. "However, I have to leave my books in the dormitory first. Shall we meet in the cafeteria?", he proposed. "I can reserve a seat for you if I get there before you".

He knew the cafeteria very well. It was a chaotic place where anything could happen and any book could be stained. He would never go there with his student utils, but he would agree if she proposed going together to both rooms to leave the experiment notes before heading to the cafeteria.

[Madeleine Gosselin]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720
Outside, Brunnhold Campus

Madeleine looked at Orthosophos when he said he needed to drop off his books. “Oh,” Madeleine said, after a moment, looking down at her bag. She didn’t usually bring her books to lunch, but she hadn’t thought much of doing so. “All right,” Madeleine said, after a moment, glancing back up at her classmate. “I’ll see you there.”

After a few moments, they went their separate ways.

Madeleine trudged through the cold, rather blustery wind, her hands tucked in her pockets, shivering a little. She wasn’t sure whether she ought to expect Orthosophos to really be at the cafeteria or not. First, he might not have meant it – really – when he had said he would meet her there. Even if he had, second, then maybe something else would come up, or when he got there he’d see people he actually liked, and not want to sit with her anymore. Third – Madeleine wasn’t sure what else might happen, but she was sure that for years, while she’d had lunch with people sometimes, there had been lots of days when people forgot they’d made plans to go to lunch, or just ditched her in favor of something or someone else.

Madeleine trudged up to her small room, feeling rather cold and dispirited, and took her coat off to keep from getting any snow or dampness on her things. She unpacked her morning books, setting them on her desk, and double-checked that she had most of what she should need for the afternoon. She set her book bag down, and then sat down on the edge of her bed, and stared down at the small fluffy rug in the middle of her room.

Really, Madeleine told herself, tears prickling at her eyes, she was tired. It would be better to try and have a nap, maybe, after tiring herself out with so much casting. Orthosophos probably didn’t really want to have lunch with her, even if he had said he did; he’d probably be relieved when she didn’t come.

Madeleine closed her eyes for a long moment, sniffling a little. She’d looked forward to coming back to classes and her normal routine all the semester before, after spending so much time in the infirmary and working from her room. Now, not even a week into the semester, she already felt it was too much for her. Maybe, Madeleine thought, she should have just – taken the year off.

And done what? That was the part of it that was dreadful. Her parents were really busy; even if she was at home in Vienda, she wouldn’t have seen them or anything. She’d only sit in bed, or whatever it was invalids did, reading by herself.

Madeleine wiped her eyes a little on one of her handkerchiefs. She sniffled, and washed her face off. She would go to the cafeteria, Madeleine decided. If Orthosophos wasn’t there or didn’t want to sit with her, then she would sit alone. It wasn’t like she didn’t have lots of practice.

Madeleine remembered her gloves this time, and wound a warmer scarf around her neck. She pulled her coat back on, and she went out of her dorm room and down the stairs, and headed back through the drifting snow towards the cafeteria, unsure what she would find.

[Theodore Orthosophos]

Late Morning, Intas 8, 2720

Theodore's room, Brunhold campus

Theodore only realized his state of exhaustion after carefully putting the book and his writing utils in their designated location in his room, sitting down in his bed... and letting his back rest for a moment.

He was lying face up on his bed, while a storm rumbled inside his head. He needed a rest much more than a meal, but he had promised Madeleine to go to the cafeteria, and he would not let her down. If he only could muster the strength to get up...

It would be understandable if he had been hours doing physical exercise or listening to the chaotic noise of the cafeteria, but he had done neither of them. He knew, of course, that casting spells was taxing but... was it so much?

With a great show of willpower, Theodore managed to stand up. Hardly avoiding glancing back to his bed, he took a handkerchief and left his room.

The outer cold dissipated his sleepiness while he headed to the cafeteria, where he would have lunch with his new friend.