Wendy Student Palis Comparison

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Wendell Honeycutt
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Tue Jul 17, 2018 3:33 am

On the forth day of Intas in the year two thousand seven hundred thirteen...
If there were benefits to surpassing his professors' expectations through dedicated hard work, sleepless nights, and an endless mountain of papers to write, books to read, and lecture notes to review, Wendell Honeycutt had no idea what they were supposed to be. If anything, his life was more difficult than it had been during the scrabbling, struggling, clawing rise up through his first year; back then, there had been only the expectation he would fail - amount to nothing. Now? Now, he was held to as high a standard as Filomena - if not more so, however he managed that - and had more upon his plate than he should, by any right, be able to finish.

But he continued shoveling it all into his mouth regardless.

The new year had brought with it new duties. Though duels and sports matches continued to drain the very small pool of his continually dwindling "free"-time, yet another duty had been thrust upon him under the guise of smiling, benevolent opportunity. He'd spent enough time among the faculty to know full well it was purely a matter of "Wendell will do what I ask when I ask because that's just who he is". And they weren't wrong. Some squabbles with his longest running friend and enemy aside, he rarely refused a favor asked. When it was a professor doing the asking, there was no question. He was a student - he was expected to do as he was told, do it with a smile, and do it to standard, which was, in his particular case, as close to perfection as was possible.

He'd tutored many of his peers in the past - both above and below him. They'd varied in their capabilities. Some had been lacking motivation and drive with plenty of natural talent and intelligence to apply during their shared sessions, making him, essentially, a glorified moral support. Some simply weren't skilled at certain subjects. He preferred people like that when it came to assisting them, as he understood overcoming one's personal struggles better than trying to find the drive to improve one's self. As he moved through the hallway, pace slow and thoughtful, eyes carefully perusing the contents of the papers in his hands, he found his lips turning a worried arc.

Palis Ainu.

The boy's record was abysmal, and not in the sense of total failure. Most who flunked classes did so for a small handful of specific reasons - upsets in their personal lives, pathetic rebellions against the status quo, a complete and utter disregard for their own self-betterment. From his marks alone, it was clear there was a concerted effort on Palis' part, and it made everything all the more pitiable. His attendance suggested he at least hadn't yet given up, but there was very little variance to the unfortunate thirties and fifties reported. As the several quickly scrawled notes added by various professors who'd had him their classes all seemed to agree upon, Palis was a pathetic excuse for a student - and some even went as far as a golly in general.

"Unfortunate." He muttered under his breath, closing the slim leather case and latching the small string about the clasp.

He'd been asked to arrive at exactly four quarters past the twenty-second hour, and, as with most all things in his life, he'd meticulously planned out his departure, transit, and arrival times so that, as he stepped into the dormitory's lounge, the clock's minute hand fell into its proper place as if on cue. Though he'd read up on what he needed to know about his soon to be pupil, there had only been a vague list of notable features quickly jotted down as if it had been an afterthought of an afterthought: blonde hair, blue-"ish" eyes, and a flair for floral prints. The three traits encompassed at least a solid quarter of the young men at Brunnhold, if not more.

The common room was a comfortable size - all the more so for the lack of people. Dinner was still in progress, and those who tended to be a bit more on the rowdy side often lingered where ever there was food. Meaning? The dormitories were peaceful, if only for the time being. Exquisite couches and lounges lined the walls. Delicate side tables, exotic ottomans, lamps and hanging chandeliers, heavy stain drapes, and a dark, luscious wooden floor all worked together in a heady harmony to paint a very clear, very bold picture of wealth and comfort with just enough of an eclectic flair to remind those within that this was not their final destination, only a point of transit towards better, brighter things - if they applied themselves.

There were four options available to him - assuming Palis wasn't late to his own tutoring appointment, something that was quite definitely a possibility, as he should have only been informed a day or two prior at the earliest -, and he had no issue address them all at the same time. His first year as student had been one of fury and sweat and a complete lack of comprehension of the world around him. As the years had passed, he'd grown into his own, and though there were dark circles beneath his eyes, his voice rang out clear, polite, and subtly commanding.

"Is Palis Ainu present?" His wavy blonde hair was swept to the side, piercing blue eyes searching the faces that turned, some with interest, some with dismissive annoyance. He was dressed in the proper verdant uniform, cleanly pressed, and stood tall - taller than most, but a height he owned none-the-less. Pulling the leather bound file from beneath his arm where he'd been keeping it firmly tucked between his elbow and side, he tapped the side of it against the tips of the fingers of his free hand, brows arched expectantly. "My name is Wendell Honeycutt-"

The name alone sparked recognition in two of the four faces, both of whom immediately reconsidered their various expressions and instead exchanged them for polite, respectful shakes of their heads.

"-and I have been asked to assist you with your... academia." Embarrassment was, usually, a fairly reliable teacher.
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Palis Ainu
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Wed Jul 18, 2018 12:14 am

Intas 4, 2713
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From the momenthis Brunnhold entrance exam branded him as a feeble two, Palis Ainu was determined to exceed it within his 10 years of study, if even by a single point. It was no lie or stretch to say the young boy tried and tried his absolute hardest with an absolutely unkillable persistence and determination to succeed. He studied strictly and laboriously and asked the deluge of questions that swarmed to his malleable mind with every lesson. He took detailed notes with helpful doodles and diagrams clearly labeled in the margin and practiced his conversations with the Mona in every free second he had- the bath, the hallways, and the few seconds before he pushed away his covers in the morning. And, oh, the improvements the boy truly made! They were vast improvements, Herculean, monumental, and they brought a pure and well-deserved pride into Palis’ heart, walk, and beaming smile. The boy, once barely able to ignite a spark, could now light any small object on fire with a few sparks, blow out the fire, and lower the temperature of the object to be able to hold it safely within seconds after ignition. His skill level was still several years behind, but, he was a millennia ahead of his starting point. Every flame he ignited illuminated his bright face with passion and curiosity.

As it often happens, however, our most gargantuan and ground-shaking achievements and passions are insipid and trivial in the eyes of those whose approval we seek more than anything. Despite improvements equivalent to moving mountains, he was still his teachers’ worst student and the fifth form’s most hopeless galdor. Palis faced his worst enemy standing before he mirror each day, wondering why his best effort never measured up to anyone’s lowest expectations. The joy and excitement of self-improvement frequently evaporated. Celebration was for the galdor who thrived, not he who barely survived.

Whether powered by naivety or determination, Palis still did not give up, and, when he was summoned to the office of a teacher who still pitied him and told the details of the tutoring the woman had arranged, Palis was more hopeful than ever.

Palis has been asked to meet a certain Wendell Honeycutt, sixth form, in the common room, and he obliged excitedly. He knew little of the Honeycutt boy— the name was familiar in his ear but not on his tongue. He could imagine his father telling him about the Honeycutt family in his obsession with family names and heritages, and could vaguely recall professors congregating in the hallway to gossip about smart Wendell Honeycutt. He surely had seen Mr. Honeycutt sometime without knowing him, Palis thought as he sat in the common room as requested, though far earlier than necessary. That was the strange thing about meeting people: you could know a person for ages without ever having met them or learned their name, the way Palis more the pretty fifth form girl with dark auburn curls and blue eyes, knew her home room’s place across from his, but had never asked her name.

Palis attempted to guess what the girl’s name might be as he sat in a lounge chair by a amiable lamp. He had skipped dinner to ensure he was early, not trusting his own timing to get him to the meeting on time. At his feet lay a messenger’s bag bursting with every text book and notepad he owned, and he held four wooden pencils, each sharpened to the same length and sharpness, in his rosy palm. He had settled upon the girl’s name being Penelope when a voice broke through the din of his thoughts and the quiet of the serene common room. Nearly consumed by the lounge chair, Palis leaned forward to gawk at the tall, uniformed boy who had entered the common room, a boy who had said Palis’ name. Much like Palis, the boy was a well-dressed, pale boy with clear skin, blonde hair, and a sparkle of blue in his eyes. This boy, however, was much taller than him.

Palis enjoyed the polite tone of the boy’s voice, especially as it provided the rare occasion of Palis’ own name being recited politely. The boy introduced himself as Wendell to the small audience, and, recognizing the name, Palis scooted out of his deep chair to greet the boy. He strode across the room with quick, light steps on his short legs as Wendell continued to explain himself to the group. Though the elder boy’s statement of helping one with their academia may’ve embarrassed anyone even slightly more attentive, Palis’ obliviousness shielded him from chagrin, and he beamed brightly as he approached the taller boy. It was one of the positives of being an idiot, indeed: small embarrassment rarely even registered in his eyes. He stuck out a small hand for the other to shake, craning his neck to meet Wendell’s eyes as Palis introduced himself.

“Hello, Wendell. I am Palis Ainu, the boy you’re tutoring,” he said as if Wendell himself wouldn’t be able to put the details of Palis’ identity and his importance to Wendell together. Palis was certainly a friendly little devil, unafraid of conversation, embarrassment, or social anxiety. Where he lacked everywhere else, he perhaps made up for it with a zealous friendliness.

“I’ve brought my books and notes from my classes,” he began excitedly, waving for Wendell to follow as he returned back to his discarded bag. He struggled to lift it, holding it awkwardly before his chest.

“I wasn’t sure which subjects to bring. I’m no good at any of them, so I figured all of them was a good place to start,” he concluded matter-of-factly, stepping to a small table and letting the bag of books drop onto its surface with a percussive clunk. He turned back to Wendell, his hands on his hips.

“So, where would you like to start?”

tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 2699
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Wendell Honeycutt
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Wed Jul 18, 2018 11:52 pm

On the forth day of Intas in the year two thousand seven hundred thirteen...
As the young man made his way over to him, Wendell carefully studied not only his appearance but field and movement and disposition all at once, a courteous curl to his lips as he nodded, finishing his own introduction. For one, Palis seemed well-kept. There was a certain pride that should be invested in one's appearance, and the younger blonde seemed to have done so - a bit surprising given his grades and reported capabilities. He would have been handsome, had he not had so pale of hair - even Wendell's was darker, and he had still been the butt of many a joke his first and second years at the school. His smile was affable - far too much for what it should have been -, and Wendell's polite smile faded to a more neutral line.

Either Palis was intelligent enough to ignore deprecation, or he was too foolish to recognize it. History suggested the latter.

His field was weak, though more powerful than that of most wicks, at the least. From what Wendell could tell - his own sizable field a careful network of roots that wound their way up through his legs to branch out into delicate, arching boughs above him - as the roots carefully and subtly investigated the other's far more diminutive collection of mona, Palis was competent. Competent, but in no way excelling in anything. The capability of his spells were simplistic at best, and there was nothing that suggested he'd even attempted anything more advanced than the very basics of curriculum that should have been mastered years ago. While their fields touched, he took care to mute the cool frost of his disdain - it was clear there was effort, no need to crush what he was meant to build up if possible.

Whatever his faults, the boy was affable. His redundancy was to be expected, Wendell supposed, and instead of bringing attention to it, he simply nodded. It was his responsibility thrust upon him to tutor Palis in academia and conversation - not to teach him how to be a higher functioning member of society. He was alone, in that regard. Neither did Palis seem to lack enthusiasm. Quietly following behind, he nodded silently to the three onlookers - a gesture that they return to whatever it was they had been doing before his interruption with an undercurrent of danger should they not.

With a small wave of his hand, he bid Palis sit, though only waited a short moment before he took a chair himself. He settled down calmly, back straight, eyes bright and clear, as he set his own leather bound file down next to the over-stuffed bag. "You have brought everything, you said?" Though there'd been no formal affirmation he was allowed to rummage through the other man's bag, there had been an unspoken agreement that Palis was now under his tutelage, which by extension gave him access to essentially anything the younger boy had to offer.

Reaching into the bag, he began withdrawing the various notebooks, journals, and textbooks. He didn't say much as he thumbed through them, allowing the air of his contemplative examination to drift through the airy branches of his field, mutely impressing upon the other that it was a comfortable silence and less so a judgmental one. "Mmm." Slowly, he let the soft leather Palis' notebook close and leveled his gaze. "Your notes are clean, organized." Aside from the pictures in the margins, but he had little issue with visual aids. "Nothing in your course load is exceptionally difficult for a fifth form, yet you have maintained a constant median of forty percent, give or take a rise and fall here and there."

If they had been questions, they didn't sound as such.

"You clearly do not lack industry." A compliment? Perhaps. Wendell's brow rose in a quizzical arc, a sharp breath in through his nose. "I admit I am confused." The breath exhaled through pursed lips. "Is it... possible for you to explain - to me - why you remain as you are? Without clear improvement?" Nothing in his voice suggested anything other than a polite interest. Where others might have allowed a condescending judgement or sneering surprise into their tones, Wendell was far too perplexed with the man before him. By all rights, the boy was essentially the same as he, yet...

Before allowing Palis his reply, Wendell laced his fingers together and folded his hands over the notebook he'd just set down. "Reasons, mind you, not excuses." His voice, again, remained almost businesslike. He was evaluating his pupil, not judging him. The ground rule set, his clear eyes stared sharp and curious.
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Palis Ainu
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Thu Jul 19, 2018 5:16 pm

Intas 4, 2713
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As Paliswatched Wendell dig through his own bag, he tried his very hardest to read the boy's field. Palis was, of course, very sensitive to the fields of those around him as any galdor should be. He, however, tended to read them quite wrong. He often relied too much on the auraology readings in magazines rather than his actual studies and what little intelligence he had to offer. Now, he found Wendell's field significantly larger than his own, as he expected, but with a glance at the others in the room, it was clear that Wendell's power exceeded most of their peers', not just Palis'. Palis found, too, that Wendell's field was reserved; it barely brushed his own, instead shaping itself around like a horseshoe to avoid too much contact. If this was anyone less threatening and more smiling, Palis would've thrusted his field into Wendell's to see how he'd react. Wendell, however, looked very serious, and Palis thought better of it. He had nearly shrivelled as he watched the boy's smile disappear in the face of Palis' own smile moments before. If there was anything the fool was intimidated by, serious people would be at the top of the list.

"That's everything, sir," he reported, involuntarily taking on a more formal tone despite the boy being only a year older than him. He had frantically emptied his locker into the bag before coming to the common room, so whatever was in the bag was truly everything. Palis stretched to watch Wendell's observations, suddenly nervous as the boy scrutinized his notes. Would Wendell give up on him right now if his notes were disappointing? He truly tried his hardest to take good notes and pay attention, despite how much he'd rather gaze out the windows in every class. He leaned his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. His eyes flicked rapidly between the notes and Wendell's face, waiting for a reaction. As Wendell mentioned that the notes were satisfactory, Palis exhaled a breath of slight relief. He hadn't completely failed yet, which was, at the very least, a good start.

Palis felt a little pride in having obviously perplexed the boy, but the question that the perplexed Wendell stumped Palis as well.

"Why I remain as I am?" Palis echoed, his eyebrows growing closer together in confusion. He was testing if putting the words on his own tongue would make their answer any more clear. He had tried to find the answer to such a question many times, a reason to why he was always a step or two behind his peers. He was sure he had been asked the question before, by his father, by his teachers, by his peers. As Wendell had mentioned, his notes were fine. He did his best to pay attention, and he certainly studied the notes he took more than many of the highest scoring of his peers. Yet, when it came time to apply, the information, skills, and conversations fell through as if he had never studied, never took a single note, and never even arrived to class. It was absolutely frustrating for both he and his teachers as his teachers thought it was disrespect, disregard for their expertise and class, but, truly, Palis was trying hard as unbelievable as it was!

"I don't enjoy resorting to such barbaric terms, but, frankly, Wendell, I think I'm just purely stupid. My notes show you that I pay attention, don't they?" He pulled the notebook to himself, flipping through the notes for the both of them to observe once again. "They're thorough, clear, and correct. I study daily, too, and I practice my conversations every moment I have. My professors can tell you that I ask every question I have for each lesson. My best efforts are merely worth that mean forty percent you mentioned. I'm just as perplexed as you are," Palis attempted to explain. "I don't enjoy being stupid. It's not for attention, not for pity, I can promise you that. I'd give nearly anything to be as smart as you are. I'm rubbish at conversations, too, as they probably informed you, though I truly don't have a reason for that." He hoped Wendell would believe him. Palis understood that it was hard for some to understand that one could put their efforts in and still be terrible, and he could only assume it would be harder for someone like Wendell. He assumed Wendell barely worked for his outstanding scores.

Palis shrugged, "I'm just not smart. That's the best reason I've got for you. It's silly, I know, but it's not an excuse. Anyone in this room would be able to tell you that I'm stupid." He finished, his tone raising slightly in a frustrated anger. He pushed it away after a moment, however, shaking his head. There was no reason for him to be angry, no, it was his own fault, after all.

He raised an eyebrow at Wendell, awaiting a reaction. "If that's an excuse in your mind, then your guess is as good as mine."
tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 2699
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Wendell Honeycutt
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Thu Jul 19, 2018 9:10 pm

On the forth day of Intas in the year two thousand seven hundred thirteen...
Reiteration, it seemed, was a fast friend of young blonde man. As far as mnemonic devices went, it was a very useful - if not somewhat annoying - way of both aiding in memorization as well as double checking to make certain one had heard the other clearly. In terms of social etiquette, however, it was mostly a nuisance. Again, Wendell restrained himself. Again, he reminded himself he had been asked to be Palis' tutor, not his friend nor his life coach. Instead, his clear gaze flickered for a brief moment with something that could just as easily have been intrigue as much as irritation as Palis considered the question.

His answer was disappointing on so many levels. The most he allowed himself was a soft sight out through his nose, but he allowed the man his time to speak. After all, at the least, it wasn't an excuse.

There was no reaction given to the questions proffered, more so out of assumption such things were rhetorical in nature than a lack of investment, but Wendell made little effort to display that such was the case. He watched quietly, solemnly as Palis' words danced about his original claim, offering little new information but shining a mix of different lights upon the same thing. His comment about Wendell's own intelligence stuck a chord of pride, and the older galdor's eyes reflexively flashed in a brief moment of unadulterated umbrage - more so directed at the presumption he was naturally intelligent and therefore had put no work into himself, as so many seemed so keen on assuming - but only for a moment. His field remained calm, emotionally muted as was expected of a proper galdor with no need for intimidation or impression.

Wendell didn't respond right away. It was clear by his contemplative expression, lips turned just slightly downward, brow furrowed enough for a single line to crease his forehead, fingers tapping against the wood where the notebook had been previously before Palis had reclaimed it. From what he could tell of what had been offered, Palis didn't lack for apparent effort. There was the anger, too, a flame to fan if he so desired but... that was just it. As much as there was the intention of improvement, what Palis clearly lacked wasn't capability. It was defeatism. Superstition. Passivity. Whichever one or several of the the plethora of words to describe the condition of allowing others to dictate one's own self-image, Palis lacked for himself the one thing that set them apart from one another.

He chose a truth dictated to him over his own.

Stupidity was not an attribute one ascribed to one's self. It was a collar affixed by the condescending, by the pitying, by those who believed themselves better and, in that superiority, deigned it their right and duty to determine the capabilities of others - especially those deemed lacking. Whatever Palis' faults, whatever his shortcomings as a student and galdor, the label of stupidity was one that existed outside of who he was - a stamp pressed upon the skin that could no more sink into the truth of who he was than a drop of rain from the sky or a blotch of ink from a quill. It was that Palis believed himself stupid, allowed himself the easy acceptance that he simply wasn't cut out for intelligence, that was his true reason for failure. It wasn't an invalid one. Once one claimed something as truth to one's self, it was as much a part of who one was as any other naturally born nature.

Wendell, however, rejected such foolishness.

There was no pity in his eyes, no gentle glimmer of understanding or empathy. He'd been in the same position as Palis his first year. His closely guarded secret of his magical potential had labeled him as stupid, as much a failure, as Palis seemed to believe himself to be. He'd rejected it, and he continued to reject it. He had forged his own truth, fought until his hands were bloodied and bones broken, but succeeded by sheer force of will and absolute abhorrence of what the world would seem him become. Palis was his shadow, and that realization was enough to spark inside of him something stronger than the responsibility and duty of an assigned tutor. He didn't owe Palis anything - not really - but it didn't change the fact he wanted to help, if for no other reason than to prove to himself, to everyone else, the concept of stupidity in and of itself was little more than a snide fantasy.

Of course, Wendell, intelligent as he was, had never been very good at empathy, though he was an acceptable pretender. It was difficult - impossible? - for him to imagine anyone who truly lacked the capabilities to achieve what he had. He imagined it would be difficult, but he had no idea just how difficult it would actually be.

The one thing Wendell did accept was the comment regarding conversations. As hard as he'd tried, the mona only seemed to allow him any form of control over living magic - everything else was as much a struggle as it had been his first year, though memorization of the spells and recitation were practiced to the point where it was purely the will of the mona he be forced into living magic alone. Academics, then, would be their focus, but magic would have its place as well.

”Stupidity. I see." The way the words were said suggested there might should have been a sarcastic humor to them, but his tone was so neutral, it created an almost unnerving juxtaposition. ”Then our first order of business, Palis Ainu, is for you to tell me, in earnest, you are not stupid." If the other boy had expected there to be writing and reading and discussion over his problem subjects, he would certainly find himself disappointed. ”I care little for what anyone else in this room - at this school, in the world - has to say about you. The only voice that matters is your own." Again, it seemed as though there should have been a warmth, a gentle reassurance in the words he spoke, but they too were as neutral as the first.

With a wave of his hand, Wendell lead back just slightly in his own chair, back still straight and clear eyes expectant. ”Whenever you are ready, please begin."
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Palis Ainu
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Sat Jul 21, 2018 12:32 am

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Intas 4, 2713....
P
alis found his usually bright spirit and demeanor dimming before the eyes of the boy before him. He had hoped, hoped he'd make a new friend, that he'd be encouraged to achieve, that he'd be given warm support, but Wendell offered nothing but a the flat line of emotion recorded perhaps permanently on his lips. Palis thrived off of reactions in conversation, whether negative or positive. He now found himself nearly wishing that the boy would at least react to him cruelly. An agitated reaction from Wendell would at least give Palis a valid reason to dislike the boy; now, however, Palis felt a budding frustration with and disapproval of the boy boiling within him without reason more than the fact that he wouldn't smile, wouldn't pity, and wouldn't play Palis' games like everyone else. He was discouraged, intimidating, and, oh, how he still wished Wendell would approve of him, somehow! Yet, he realised it wouldn't be by his personality or the intelligence Wendell was there to somehow find in him. His own smile faltered with finality, not threatening to reilluminate his face as it always had. He was not nearly as excited for what was to come, and he truly wished he hadn't skipped dinner to arrive early to his own funeral.

The words Wendell offered him would nearly be reassuring, comforting, and encouraging in any other voice than the curveless river of monotone emotion that greeted Palis' ears; yet the voice remained neutral and, in Palis' approval-needing and empathy-requiring mind, cold. Palis mocked Wendell's neutrality and offered no smile, no physical sign to show a change of confidence or belief in his intelligence. He shook his head at Wendell as the boy awaited his scripted response, and amusement ignited in his multicolored eyes.

"Before we'd start, I'd like to say something," Palis began, leaning back in the chair with eyes narrowed at Wendell. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you think I have a chance, Wendell. You think that this is another phoenix story in which I will rise out of the ashes of societal ideals of intelligence to become a phoenix at the pinnacle of my educated abilities, but, if my voice is really the only one that matters, let me tell you what I think your first order of business should be," Palis paused, not entirely sure what words he needed to use to get his point across. He had always been a little too heavy on obscure similes and metaphors perhaps only he saw, but, what the clocking hell, it was worth a shot. If there was one thing Palis was completely sure of, it was that he was not meant to be intelligent. Better, maybe, but not intelligent, and it simply was that he was not cut out for it, the same way some people find their hands are too clumsy to work in the kitchen, the same way some find that their feet are too heavy to dance on a stage!

"Don't get your hopes up. Recalculate every pedestal goal you are envisioning me reaching because I won't reach it. This is not pessimism, this is not a lie I've been told and was gullible enough to believe. This is realism, this is a realization of what is fact and fiction, what is possible and impossible. I thank you for attempting to believe in me, as much as I seem to hear your voice betraying you, but this is the truth, and you will see it. Whether you accept it now or let it bludgeon you later is up to you," he finished. He didn't wait for Wendell's reaction. He assumed that whatever reaction he found fitting would be as trivial and short-lived as a blink of his blue eyes. Whatever emotion fueled him, he couldn't name. It wasn't quite spiteful enough to be anger, and not nearly enough self-absorbed to be arrogance. Yet, he felt it, all of it. He felt a need to explain, a need to take whatever hopes Wendell had and put them in their place. Perhaps it was simply to keep the two of them each safe from the disappointment of unreasonable goals. Palis exhaled a quick, barely perceptible huff, his lips pursed slightly to the right. He released his arms from where they lay tangled over his chest, scooting to perch on the edge of his seat with a straight back and hands folded on the surface of the table with a feigned air of professionalism.

Despite his rant, however, despite his knowledge of the lack of natural intelligence inside of him, the weight of the figurative dunce cap permanently strapped onto his head was alleviated momentarily. He felt silly to say such a force-fed statement back to Wendell, but, looking the older boy in the eye with a seriousness illuminating every curve of his own face, Palis spoke.

"I am not stupid," he announced firmly, the words unfamiliar and confused on his tongue as if the organ didn't believe it to be true. For once in his life, however, Palis felt a slight tug at the word he had allowed for so long to be the very trunk of the tree of Palis' being. He averted his eyes from Wendell to look down at himself as if a newfound power had been suddenly coursing through his veins. The ghost of pride haunted his young face.
tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 2699
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Wendell Honeycutt
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Sat Jul 21, 2018 6:49 am

On the forth day of Intas in the year two thousand seven hundred thirteen...
Resistance was to be expected. Wendell didn't know a single man or woman who enjoyed being told they were wrong for any reason - even such instances where one's faults and peccadillos alike were were eventually greeted with relief often only surfaced after initial denial an issue existed at all. Thus, when Palis began his own lengthy brand of repudiation, Wendell patiently allowed him his time. Rarely, if ever, did anyone ever manage to sway him from the conclusions drawn from observation, and Palis was no exception.

As with all things told to him with intent to enlighten, he listened, but his expression remained as calm as before, the only indication he was not simply sitting mute in hope that Palis would be finished soon to be found in the clear nature of his gaze - unwavering and interested, in the way one might expect from another who had yet to wander off from a conversation.

It was clear the younger boy didn't approve of Wendell's request - and clearer still he imagined Wendell an idealist, a dreamer, a buffoon, at worst. None of it particularly bothered him. Others thought better, some worse, but none knew him in the way he knew himself. Palis wasn't completely off-base in his assumptions, only where the pure-blonde had allowed the subjective "think", Wendell had already come to the conclusion of "know". The boy's confidence, however, was hardly lacking - though Wendell couldn't tell - nor did he particularly care - if it were his nature or a front to hide his weaker self. In any case, the tone he managed was hardly fitting and underclassman, but Palis' aplomb - something he would be needing in the weeks to come - was a suitable enough display that Wendell allowed him his insubordination just once.

His head nodded in a tacit dip of his chin and raise of a brow - an invitation for Palis to continue.

What followed was as predictable as it was pitiable, though Wendell merely watched the boy continue to spew his "truths" with the same thin line of his lips and clarity of gaze. He might have even smiled had Palis' voice not held within it so firm a tone to suggest he believed every single last thing that passed through his lips. It wasn't a matter of Wendell believing in him, setting lofty goals and loftier expectations. It was, purely, a matter of Palis understanding that stupidity was an ascribed notion, as much as intelligence. So, as the boy concluded his caveat, his ignorance born bare and pale and sniveling in the weakness it had been soaked within for so long, Wendell only offered another slight nod.

He had heard what Palis had wanted to say.

Finally, the boy indulged him - or, better put: did what he'd been told to do. At the very least, it seemed he was able to follow directions, strange or otherwise, which boded well for their future interactions. The preparation was odd, but Wendell made allowance for it, as Palis himself hardly seemed to be the most typical of students to be found at Brunnhold. He calmly held the gaze Palis' lifted to him. There was the briefest of moments during which Wendell wondered if the boy were going to make a joke of it, but when the words finally came, the corner of his mouth twitched an approving curve.

Palis, of course, missed the passing plaudit, eyes upon his own hands as they were and would be met by the same neutral expression he'd last seen should he raise his gaze. ”Again." It was not a suggestion. It was a clear command.

The younger boy had made it clear he thought any meaningful improvements were a waste of time. Wendell didn't have the patience for someone who went through all the motions without the expectation of success behind them, thus they were start on the core of Palis' issue and work their way up and out from there. In his mind, adjusting the boy's mindset wasn't an altruistic attempt at helping him forge a new and better and more meaningful life: it was an ends to the mean - Palis was his pupil and he his tutor. That it was an opportunity to reiterate that success knew no limits such as stupidity or intelligence was an entirely different matter altogether. He was, however, never opposed to consolidation.

”Louder this time."
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Palis Ainu
Posts: 71
Joined: Mon Jun 18, 2018 11:48 am
Topics: 10
Race: Galdor
Occupation: Young politician. Temporarily out of service.
Location: Vienda
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
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Sat Jul 21, 2018 11:40 pm

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Intas 4, 2713....
P
alis recoiled as Wendell’s voice met his ears again. Again? And louder? Palis’ brows fell over his eyes in disdain for the recitation. His gaze first flitted to the other students in the room like a restless bird, and- no, no, Wendell wanted his words, his belief, and looking at their reactions would sway him. The nearly imperceptible shake of the head and the realignment of his eyes to behold Wendell were the only visual sign of his change of interest, his subconscious capitulation to the wisdom of the other boy. He began to pry open the vault of his protesting jaw again to voice how much he truly didn’t want to repeat the statement, but Wendell’s hypothetical reaction- or lack of one- stopped him. Wendell, of course, knew that Palis didn’t want to vocalize the belief again, and he’d sit with a practiced and polite interest upon the canvas of his face until Palis yielded. Palis felt rather stuck. His moment of insubordination seemed to not provide any reaction, his sentence of subordination did not cause any congratulations, and his bubbling personality had erased the only smile Wendell’s face seemed to have seen in weeks. And so, Palis came to the only decision his stumped little mind could reach.

“I am not stupid,” he began, only a hair louder than the last. This time the firm seriousness so alien to him began falling away to reveal, like a sword momentarily caught in sunlight, a glimmer of absolute belief in the statement. Once more for good measure, yes, that would do. Louder, even, loud enough to draw the attention of the other students, to break their concentrations so as to see exactly what that absolute idiot Palis Ainu was doing.

“I am not stupid!” he proclaimed as if he were an over-eager town-crier finally revealing good news after a century of a sweeping plague. A grin crept across his face, yet shrunk sheepishly as the other students glared annoyedly at the source of the strange outburst. He placed a hand to the side of his face that was closest to them to conceal both the chagrin and the smile mixing in the basin of his face like a red drink. His eyes again awaited Wendell’s own.

“Was that satisfactory?” he asked, his childish demeanor showing itself more than ever as he glanced expectantly up at the boy like a puppy learning basic training. “I would like to think it was. I- well, I feel that it was pretty earnest, that last one. I hope you don’t mind the excess phrase; I wanted to be sure I really felt it.” He didn’t expect Wendell to show the approval he would like to see, so, mentally, he imagined himself patting himself on the back. It would satisfy the need temporarily. He could always stand beside one of the statues with the outstretched hands in the courtyard later and rock up and down on his feet. He found the stony pats of whatever long dead galdor nearly as reassuring as any. He kicked his feet absentmindedly in his chair, his hands clutching the edge of the seat, as he awaited Wendell’s response with a clear question of what’s next? in his eyes.

tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 2699
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Wendell Honeycutt
Posts: 11
Joined: Thu Jul 05, 2018 2:05 am
Topics: 4
Race: Galdor
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Mon Jul 23, 2018 9:51 am

On the forth day of Intas in the year two thousand seven hundred thirteen...
Whatever his objections harbored, Palis seemed to finally grasp the situation he was in. Wendell was his tutor. He was not his friend, not his enemy, not his teacher, and certainly not his father. He was there to provide Palis the chance to improve himself, but such improvement would only be bought through obedience. Anything else, as the blonde had already discovered, was as pointless as whistling into the wind. So, when Palis did as he was bade, swallowing whatever protest he might have had, Wendell watched him with a vague glint of expectation in his clear blue eyes.

The second time was hardly an improvement.

He drew a quiet breath to speak again, but to his mild surprise, Palis seemed to take initiative. His volume rose, voice swelling in confidence that needed no further prodding - at least not for now. The others, who had made some effort to appear as though they weren't trying to peck their noses into the exchange between the two blonde headed boys, reacted in various levels of amusement and contempt. It was too much to ask that Palis ignore their stares, for now.

Instead, as Palis' inevitable waggling of his tongue began anew, seeking confirmation he'd performed adequately, Wendell leaned forward, his hand extending, all in a single fluid motion. His hand was warm and soft - perhaps a surprise where one might have expected his touch cold and reserved - as he gently wrapped his fingers around Palis' wrist, softly but firmly pulling the concealing hand away from the other's face. The almost tender touch seemed poorly matched to his neutral tone, though his words were marginally softer than before - though it seemed more a direct effect of the adjusted volume of his voice after having closed some distance between them.

”It was satisfactory." He released Palis' wrist before settling back into his chair, back straight and expression nearly blank. Had anyone happened to walk into the room at the moment, Palis would have been hard pressed to convince the newcomer Wendell had ever leaned across the table, let alone made any sort of physical contact. ”Next time, none of this nonsense." Wendell briefly imitated Palis' earlier attempt at a partial obscurement. ”There is no shame in confidence. Hiding such a thing only serves to weaken one's resolve. I am not here to passively observe weakness, Palis, nor do I entertain fools and dullards. You are not stupid, and I inform you now, should I hear you say otherwise for any reason, our session will be cut short. I assume you want my help, in whatever capacity I am able to provide it."

The final sentence seemed as though it might have been a question, but the fall of his voice suggested otherwise. Still, there was no hint of disappointment in his tone, and while there was nothing that explicitly suggested the opposite beyond the singular confirmation he'd already given, he didn't ask Palis to repeat himself. Little steps, but steps nonetheless.

Picking up one of Palis' texts, he handed it to the other boy, not bothering to look at its cover. He'd already reviewed the list of his classes and had found all of the subjects well within his realm of expertise - at least as far as Palis would be concerned. ”Now that we have established what you are not, I suppose it is time to focus on what you will become." He didn't offer much else on the matter of Palis' future. After all, it was entirely up to Palis how much he would improve during their time together. Wendell was only able to play catalyst. The reaction itself would require the other's effort and energy. ”First, the chapter your professor is currently lecturing on. Second, a summary of what you are expected to know. Finally, a summary of what you understand."

Clear blue eyes watched expectantly as Wendell politely folded his hands upon his lap and waited. If Palis continued to follow directions - albeit, however prone to clear displays of a desire to do otherwise - their time together wouldn't be nearly as unbearable as some of his past pupils had chosen to make it. That, at the very least, was a relief.
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Palis Ainu
Posts: 71
Joined: Mon Jun 18, 2018 11:48 am
Topics: 10
Race: Galdor
Occupation: Young politician. Temporarily out of service.
Location: Vienda
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
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Contact:

Tue Jul 24, 2018 10:24 pm

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Intas 4, 2713....
Palis himself could barely believe that the physical touch he had shared momentarily with Wendell had really, truly happened, but the lingering thermal memory of touch and the older boy's warm hand let him know it was indeed real. Palis retracted his hands to lay beneath the table, clasped into his lap. A slight smile spread across his face as Wendell fulfilled Palis request of his own quality of work, but the grin quickly faded as Wendell continued to speak on confidence and stupidity. He did his best to listen intently and fought the urge to melt back into his chair as he attempted to match Wendell's posture. His sides quickly ached for a more relaxed position, but he didn't grant it.

He took the offered textbook from Wendell, quickly recognizing the maroon cover and worn corners of the thick book of Vita and Anaxi politics. Excitement lit into his eyes; politics were his passion and the only subject the boy had ever excelled in. His excitement was enough to cause him to simply whisper the title of the book under his breath. He quickly opened it, knowing through muscle memory the exact chapter the professor had been lecturing on and the exact paragraph she had ended on in their last session. He laid the book open on the table, angling it so as to allow Wendell easy access if he was so interested in perusing the pages. Palis prodded the page with his finger, a certain, unseen before confidence and interest in his eyes as he held a firm eye contact with Wendell.

"We've moved on to the politics of the other kingdoms, as well as the history and evolution of politics in Vita as a whole. This week the professor's lectures are over Mugroba, it's familial monarchy and the political issues pressing the government there most," Palis relayed quickly. "I'm expected to know the very ins and outs of Anaxi politics and law, the system of government governing all of the six united kingdoms, as well as the general systems of governments for each of the six kingdoms. We haven't gotten to the four estranged kingdoms yet, though I do know them well." The boy returned his attention to his the notes he had pushed away, and he grabbed them, flipping through them in search of a very specific section. Finding it, he laid the book open before Wendell to reveal a thick section of the book filled with strenuous and detailed notes of politics: full speech transcripts with parts requiring attention underlined, handwritten profiles on several of the up and coming candidates as well as those currently holding power, and records of nearly every decision made by the King and Queen in their last five years, as well as justified hypotheses on what choices the pair would make in the near future. He stood to lean over the table, pointing to various paragraphs and flipping through the plethora of filled and neat pages before Wendell.

"I've extended my political studies independently, you see, by reading the papers, political texts, speech transcripts, and even some firsthand experiences at rallies, speeches, elections, and sessions of Congress. I know Anaxi politicians, political parties, laws, and current issues as well as I know my own home. I can tell you all about the six unified kingdoms, too, and the forces that unite them. The estranged kingdoms, too, are within my understanding." A slight shrug grasped his shoulders. "I know politics fairly well, but I'm sure you could help me get better."

Palis offered a small smile to Wendell. Government was the only subject that the boy could grasp easily, the only subject that interested him enough to stray to the library, to study and learn about in the summer in excess to what he needed to know. Yet, convinced that Wendell may know more about politics than he, Palis was completely invested in learning what the other boy knew and adding it to his insatiable inventory of political knowledge and understanding. This time, it was his turn to wait expectantly for the other boy's response, nearly his posture of polite and patient hands folded in his lap and blue eyes awaiting any sign of movement to latch onto.

tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 2699
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