[PM to Join] Lost and Found

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning | Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Adoration was a strong way to feel about one's name. Honestly, she couldn't say that she had ever thought much about whether or not she liked her own. Her name was her name, regardless of her opinion on the subject. She had given much thought to her family name, and all the weight and expectation and disappointment that was tangled up in it—but her name? It hardly crossed her mind.

Still, she supposed being happy with one's name was better than the alternative. They left the chatter of the classroom behind, and there was nothing to hear once again beyond Yazad's footsteps and her quiet shuffle. Aurelie thought briefly what she knew of her Great-Aunt Marguerite; nothing, really, beyond her name. Aurelie shrugged and smiled. "I'm not sure, really. She might have been—I think Father just liked the name."

Ana might know. She could ask, when next she saw her sister. That was certainly an easier discussion topic than anything else. She couldn't say she dreaded seeing her sister again, but some part of her wasn't looking forward to it. The betrayal settled heavily in the bottom of her ribcage, a constant weight she was growing to live with.

Aurelie could have found a similarly benign subject to carry on with as they kept on. She was starting to feel like she had the thread of it now, with the initial strangeness worn off. She felt a little silly, worrying so much about it in the first place. Could have, and then Yazad spoke again to ask her a question that threw her off so thoroughly Aurelie stopped for a heartbeat, right there in the middle of the hall.

"Oh, ah—pardon me." She resumed walking again, not quite sure what to make of the question. There was no trace of mockery in that beautiful face when Aurelie looked over; he had asked it as if it were nothing. As if it were a natural question to ask her, or any of them.

Was she happy? She found she didn't know how to answer that. She could have said yes without lying; certainly, she was happy in moments. But that wouldn't be true either. Once, she might have said she was content, and that would have been just as true. There was her work, after all, and she loved her work for the most part. She had something like a friend or two now, even; if she wasn't close to her roommates, she had no real enemies either. Yes, she could have said she was content with all of that, not too long ago. Aurelie looked at Yazad, puzzled.

"It doesn't matter if I am or not," she said at last, with another smile and a shrug. The smile didn't touch any other part of her face. It didn't matter; there was only what there was in front of her, just like her name. If she were unhappy, did it matter? Could she change anything about herself, her life, her situation? Could any of their kind—her kind? "But, there are ups and downs—the same as anyone."

[Yazad]

Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning

T he answer did not come readily, and Yazad did not expect it to. The small pause was not lost to him, but his smiling expression remained unchanged. "Think nothing of it." The polite reply was spoken just as easily as the question itself. It amused him greatly how the subject of happiness was elusive to most people he had spoken to, but that number does not amount to much, if he is to be precise.

Silently, patiently, Yazad allowed the girl a moment to think freely, keeping his eyes ahead as if looking directly at Aurelie might interrupt her thoughts. Meanwhile, the man busied himself with making sure that his pace is even in length and rhythm. It was just how he functioned; he always wanted to have orderly structure in everything.

When Aurelie finally gave him the answer; spoken in defeated ambiguity, Yazad’s response was a light, thoughtful hum. No words were said to her. Not yet. His eyes sought the young woman’s face, looking there for what words might not have conveyed. The expression her freckled face wore intrigued him. Was she...uncertain? The vagueness of her reply had been, in itself, telling enough.

"I am fairly new to Brunnhold, you see. The good master and I, that is. My lack of knowledge causes me to wonder what kind of life people like me are living here. Therefore, I find it better to ask than to speculate." Yazad admitted to his ignorance without actual guilt, his tone of voice losing none of its civility, but a touch of its levity. "Things were a tad different back in Bastia. Not ideal, mind you--but familiar to me at the very least. Here, in Brunnhold, I know not what to expect."

And really, he did not like not knowing.

"May the ups far outnumber the lows," he referenced her last sentence, slightly lowering his head in respect for the divine ones he sent the prayer to. How high are the ups and how deep are the lows, he did not know. But to hope for no hardships at all in one’s life would be utter folly.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning | Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Different, he said, back in Bastia. That puzzled her, too. Bastia, she knew, was not like Mugroba. It was more like Anaxas than anywhere else, as far as she knew. She had been told once, in breathless tones, that they had a special task force for finding passives who had escaped from Anastou. Aurelie had never been sure if that were true, or how often it even happened—it was rare enough in Brunnhold, she thought.

"Oh," was all she said for a moment, unsure of how to continue. He said all of that like it pained him to admit ignorance. She could understand that, at least. She admitted it freely enough, but she never liked having to do so. More and more, she disliked the reminder of how small the world was for her. That it stopped, really, where the University grounds did.

But she couldn't tell him what to expect. The young man following her down the hall with his measured, even steps was like her, but not like her. He would never wear blue, there was no Patron watching his comings and goings. Aurelie gathered, from the way he said it, that he worked for one man, one household. Not thousands of children, of which you had expected to be one. The difference, she thought sourly, between being a desk in a lecture hall and one in a private study.

Had he come from Anastou? It was possible; Aurelie had assumed not, but perhaps she was wrong. She frowned to herself, red eyebrows drawn together. Perhaps that was something that happened there, to go from Anastou to individual service. Fionn, after all, was assigned to Professor Keyes, although he certainly seemed to work elsewhere as well. Aurelie thought on it a little more. It seemed to her that it was unlikely, however, that if Keyes were to leave—the reverse, for instance, and take a position at Anastou—that he would... take Fionn with him, as well. One did not generally get to keep employer-issued property at the end of employment.

The silence had stretched on too long; somewhere in her thoughtfulness, Yazad had said something she had acknowledged but not retained. She felt as if she ought to address the point, but couldn't quite figure out how. What could she, really, tell him of expectations?

"I don't know if, ah, I am a good measure." Her voice was slow, and her tone gentle. One hand went to her pinafore pocket, winding a thread around the end of her finger and pulling it tight. Aurelie wasn't looking at him now, not quite. In his direction, but not at him. She frowned a little more, trying to pick her words carefully. "I'm afraid I don't know much about Bastia... Anastou...? But, er, hmm."

She couldn't find how to say it. Was it kindness or cruelty, to remind him of something he likely already knew? He could no more live a life here than she could, not the full range of one, and yet... She wondered, and she didn't know; it seemed to her a strange twilight to occupy. Not a scrap of blue—but a scrap, all the same.

[Yazad]

Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning

T he stretching hallways of the Brunngold campus felt endless and needlessly convoluted, but that is simply Yazad’s general impression of any path that is not a straight line. That classroom from before could serve as a marker if he is to traverse this path alone someday, and the man kept his eyes peeled for any other distinguishable placements of doors or lights.

"Hm?" The man directed his gaze at Aurelie, looking slightly puzzled for a fraction of a second before understanding hit him. "Ah, no. The good lady misunderstands. I am not asking for myself." Yazad’s smile promptly returned to his previously confused face, a slight shake of his head emphasizing his words. Belatedly, he realized that this was a natural assumption to make as she knew nothing of his...situation. "I have never stepped foot into Anastou except once." Yazad began to explain, and he expected another passive to form a conclusion as to what that one time was--the one visit that determined what he will be for the rest of his life. But after more than thirteen years, the initial aching had all but faded away.


"Be it in Brunnhold or Florne, my life is not likely to change much. I will always exist within the house to be its keeper, handling every possible chore and errand to make sure that the good master is taken care of. This is my life, and I live it happily. What had changed between Bastia and Anaxas is not my life conditions, but rather the fact that I can now meet people like me--people like you." The books in Yazad’s arms were shuffled slightly as he arranged them into a steadier hold. Pale green eyes sought the more vibrant ones and locked sight with them. "The life of exclusive service that I have led for many years is my norm. What your ‘norm’ is, I cannot tell. Should I expect others of our kind to be as content as I? Should I expect that they are not? I have no idea." His words were spoken matter-of-factly; for clarification, more elaboration of his earlier statement than a request for divulgence.

Aurelie’s earlier answer, vague as it was, offered him a glimpse of what to expect, however. She thought it the same if she was or was not happy, and in a way, she was right. Duty came before anything else, even personal fulfillment. It just so happens that he, ironically enough, found fulfillment in serving his purpose. Was she the odd one? Was he?

Did it even matter?

They were all, in the end, different individuals. Racial similarities dictated very little of how one sees and reacts to the world around them when there are several other factors of effect to consider. Is this not the reason he found people fascinating, to begin with?

"Life in Anaxas is not all that different from how it was in Bastia, although I must admit that the former wins in terms of...liveliness." And that was the most polite way he could possibly describe The Stacks with. Yazad’s tone lightened up once again as he steered the conversation in a different direction. "Sadly, I have not yet managed to find my way to a florist, so the house remains woefully dull for the time being." There was a missable touch of genuine dejection to be found in his expression, but it was nowhere to be seen a second later.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning | Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

He wasn't asking for himself, he clarified, and Aurelie felt only more confused than she had before. Furthermore, he'd never set foot in Anastou beyond... Well, she thought she knew what the "once" had been. So not that, then. He continued on, and the puzzled look on her face only deepened.

What was the value, she almost asked, in meeting people like her? In meeting her, specifically; Aurelie could at least allow that someone else might prove a more interesting and lively conversation partner. What the conditions of his life were, such as described, she could follow well enough. She didn't know how it made her feel to hear him say so. Aurelie supposed she was happy that he was happy. He said it easily, with no hesitation. She might have done so, once. Wasn't that fine?

Aurelie couldn't have said why it made her just a little sad.

"Hmm, I'm still not sure I'm the best measure," Aurelie said then, setting whatever else she might feel aside. She looked up, a funny twist of a smile there. "Ah, I just mean— W-well, I'm sure you'll meet... other people, if you... Would like."

They kept on down the hallway. It opened now to one broader and brighter than the one before it. Great glass windows lined one wall, and doors the other. The windows overlooked more pathways, twisting through a charmingly landscaped part of the grounds. There were a few students dotting it here and there, green uniforms blending in with the green of the grass. Watered, Aurelie knew, to keep it so, at great expense to the University. Some were studying, some were talking—more than a few, too, were just laying out in the Yaris heat, idle. One of them, a boy from lower form, seemed to be getting scolded by an upper-form girl for the state of his uniform.

"Ah—is that so?" The topic had been steered away from happiness, from expectations, with a deftness Aurelie could only envy. She was looking out the window until Yazad spoke again of florists, dragging her eyes back. "I might be able to... ah. Where, if I may ask, is the house...?"

She did know of a few florists inside the walls, at least. Not well, but errands had taken her to them or past them from time to time. Outside of them, however... Aurelie's bright green eyes flicked up for a moment, then back to the region of Yazad's ear.

"Oh, ah—I only ask because, well. I'm not... terribly familiar with the Stacks, you see..." Did he know that much, Aurelie wondered? It was very strange, knowing that they shared an affliction and yet... She couldn't tell, not in the slightest, what was Known and what wasn't. It was oddly disorienting.

[Yazad]

Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning

T here was a little nod to Aurelie’s words and nothing else. He was already meeting more people than he had ever done before, with various levels of conversational qualities. Aurelie herself did not seem to see herself as an example for him to measure others by, and he could only trust that the young woman knew herself and her surroundings best to make that statement.

It was Yazad’s turn to pause his pace for a few seconds, his gaze looking through the grand glass windows to the verdant grass beyond. It was a beautiful sight to behold for him, and clearly to those who were choosing to spend their time outside in spite of the heat. It was not the view of greenery well-tended to was not all that he found amusing. The glimpses of school life, of young galdori spending their time on learning and leisurely relaxation, demanded more of his attention. It would have been the kind of life he lived if not for his unfortunate ‘condition’, but the Passive could not feel a shred of envy in his heart for what they have and he does not. Perhaps whoever had written his fate knew beforehand that he would enjoy cooking more than dueling.

And now they were talking about florists; another favorite of his.

"Where…?" Yazad echoed the questioning word, cleared his throat, and braced himself to expose his own awfulness at giving directions as well as following them. "Ahem. I am not certain, frankly. It is in one of the less, should we say, boisterous parts of The Stacks. I did happen upon a rather quaint bakery the other day on my way to the grocer’s." It was his hope that this could be a landmark for Aurelie to go by. "A charming place. Alas, I am rather too fond of baking to buy our pastries elsewhere." A chuckle followed. It was no chance that the smell of bread was the first thing he had noticed when walking into the kitchen.

"You and me both. I suppose that is something we have in common, at the very least." Whether the other’s implication had eluded him or he deliberately chose to ignore it, it would not be clear. "Trouble yourself with this no further if it is outside of your knowledge. With some luck and persistence, I might be able to convince the good master to accompany me in the search. Hurte knows that he could use a bit of motion in that sedentary life of his." The slow shake of Yazad’s head was not unlike that of a disapproving mother speaking about a rather difficult child. And if his attempt ends up with failure, then him eventually getting lost on the way to the florist would be his own problem, not Aurelie’s.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning | Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Ah, so it was in the Stacks after all. She couldn't be of much help then, at least not near to the house. Aurelie contemplated explaining why she wouldn't know; she couldn't tell if it mattered. In the end, she decided not to say anything. There was no value in it; he either already knew, and was being polite, or he didn't. And why should he? Such things didn't apply to him, and they certainly didn't impact this conversation they were having. To use the term rather loosely, anyway.

That, she thought firmly, was part of her problem. Wanting to put topics where they didn't belong. Just to satisfy her own curiosity, to prod the strange gap here between their lives. Which was absolutely unnecessary, and perhaps a bit rude besides. No, there were better topics at hand than where she, personally, could and could not go on her own.

Aurelie smiled at the way Yazad shook his head. She had no idea what this master of his was like—she imagined one of any number of the sedentary, middle-aged academics one could find littering the campus at any given moment. Taller in her imagination than Yazad, as she imagined him making this same expression at the man in question. "An academic, then...?" There was a trace of a laugh in her voice. Whatever frown she'd held, she'd set it aside.

There had been something in what he'd said earlier that Aurelie had almost missed. And she would have been sorry to do so, too—it would serve her right, for being to preoccupied with other things. She wasn't sure she was meant to ask about it, but she did anyway after only a small amount of debate.

"Y-you, ah, you bake then...?" She looked over, interest bright and clear despite her best efforts to hide it. Not that she needed to hide it, or... well. She had asked about it, anyway. She certainly could talk about baking, if that were the case.

"Oh, ah, I only ask because—well. I wouldn't say it's a hobby, not really, but I do enjoy it rather and... Ah. Hmm." She fell silent, looking back in front of her.

[Yazad]

Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning

T he man nodded his ebony-crowned head to Aurelie’s question, noting that the young woman was now smiling again. Good, he thought to himself. "Right you are. It seems that you are no stranger to the type." His placid smile walked a line that is between amusement and affection. Considering where she is working, for Hurte knows how long, Aurelie must have met her fair share of people from every possible sort. Or had she?

Though it can be assumed that it is due to Aurelie being polite, Yazad was still unsure about why she seemed to be somewhat hesitant. It is not just her tone, but rather her choice of words, as well. Should he take that as a sign of discomfort from her part, or was this simply a personal trait? Certainly, he hoped that it was not the former. She was still conversing with him, smiling at him, so there is at least that.

"Oh, do I ever." Yazad started, the visible interest that Aurelie showed reflecting on his own face. They had hit a topic of mutual interests, and hopefully, that would be something that the young woman can feel comfortable discussing. "It is something that I enjoy thoroughly, as well. I myself favor bread and fruity pastries, while the master leans more towards the nutty side of things." Expertly, Yazad suppressed the urge to giggle at the very fitting double meaning of his last statement.

This might be the very first time that he is getting the chance to converse with a fellow baking enthusiast, Yazad thought. Honestly, if it were not for the constraints of time, he might have mentioned the topic of baking back in the kitchen, when he made the comment about Aurelie’s bread. What could be more enjoyable than exchanging recipes with another experienced baker? "And yourself? Have you any preferences?" The man asked his companion, canting his head slightly. Though he might not talk to this woman again, the Bastian wanted to learn more about her. When one cannot change his past, and cannot influence his own future, all he can do is utilize his present.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning | Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Aurelie almost breathed an audible sigh of relief when the thread of conversation was picked up at baking. That was something she could discuss with anyone, happily and easily. And eagerly, too; she had precious little chance to do so. She was hardly the only one to find the work enjoyable of all the women who worked in the kitchens of Brunnhold, but Aurelie had always had strange trouble bringing it up.

”I’m rather partial to sweets,” Aurelie admitted with a shy smile. ”I’m actually planning… Well, at the end of Yaris, usually, we get damsons in. I’m not sure if you’re familiar…?” Aurelie left room for confirmation or denial. She wasn’t sure how widely the small, bitter plums were cultivated. They were native to Anaxas, she knew; but part of the little she knew of Bastia was that they grew quite a lot there. The climates were not so dissimilar that Aurelie thought it was impossible, should one want to.

They did it every year, the jam-making. Or every year that harvest allowed; there had been one year where there simply hadn't been enough, when she was younger. It would have been her second year being allowed to help, at about fourteen years old. She had been rather devastated at the time. Thinking on it now, with time and distance in between, Aurelie couldn't help but smile at the girl she had been. Heartbroken over plums.

”We—that is, a few of the other girls and myself—were going to make jam. Once we got them in. I’m hoping to use it to make thumbprint cookies.” The smile that warmed her face was soft and fond. Both for the making of the jam, a process she did well and truly love and looked forward to every year, and for the cookies themselves. Just a few batches, she thought. A nice change of pace from the rather dry tea cookies served in the faculty lounge, perhaps, or for the students if enough of the others were interested. The recipe was so very near and dear to her heart; she did hope Matron would agree.

Aurelie caught herself before she went too deeply down that path; she did, after all, need to leave Yazad room to speak as well. That was rather how conversation worked. A two-way exchange, not just Aurelie Steerpike rambling on and on about damsons and thumbprints. ”Have you ever made them before?” She lifted her eyes back from the hallway in front of them, hopeful.

[Yazad]

Hallways, Brunnhold Campus

Yaris 12, 2720 - Late Morning

A nod was given in response to Aurelie’s inquiry, signalling affirmation of his knowledge. Yazad did not dare say anything in fear of interrupting the young woman’s peeking enthusiasm. It was perhaps more accurate to say that she is less reserved rather than gushing with excitement, but one or the other were good enough. Granted, the fruit was not something that is at the top of his or Sophronios’ list of favorites, which in turn meant that he did not use or buy it often, but he would enjoy a plum if given the chance.

The thought brought about memories of a fruit bowl eternally sitting on the parlor table inside his family home in Florne. No matter how many apricots the child had snacked on, soon after, as if by magic, there were more to take their place. Now, nearly a decade later, Yazad knows that it must have been the work of some forgotten servant, tasked with keeping the bowl appealingly full. It was something that the passive had carried -intentionally or not- to the household he himself served in. Wherever Sophronios and Yazad lived, there will always be a bowl of fruits and a vase of flowers--a fair amount of apricots in the first, and a fresh arrangement of blooms in the second.

"Jam, you say? That sounds rather delightful, as does thumbprint cookies." Yazad chimed in his equable tone, his eyes now following Aurelie’s growing smile; the path ahead given only a minimal amount of his attention. With a walk this long, there was very little hope of him remembering the way correctly. He will simply have to make sure that he is not separated from Sophronios the next time he is made to come to the campus. "A shame that I cannot be a part of this rather enjoyable jam-making plan. Regardless, you have my wishes for plums aplenty." The raven-haired man chuckled airily, his smile spreading all the way up to his eyes. Aurelie’s passion for baking was now clearly apparent, and it was a pity that he would only get to hear about it for as long as the hallways stretched.

"Thumbprint cookies? I have, indeed. Not with damsons, though. I tend to use apricot jam mostly, or berries whenever the seasons allow it. Rose jam is rather lovely for that if one wanted a less sugary option, as well. Not to mention that it gives you a chance to decorate with rose petals." This was the perfect blend of two things he dearly loved: baking and flowers. Aside from the obvious matter of taste, Yazad valued presentation in all of its forms. It was not enough for something to just taste good--it has to also look good, and smell good. That belief extended to his person too, for he always makes sure to look presentable and smell his best; courtesy of the jasmine body oil that he is rather fond of using.