Rina's House, The Stacks
When provided with the appropriate stationery, the young woman jotted down simple and—she hoped—easy to follow instructions to where she was domiciled as well as making note of a number of items from her wardrobe that could be collected. While her vestments, outside of her uniform, were rather chaste and conservative, they were made of high-quality materials and had some pretty elements that might be put to good use; it wouldn’t be a real loss if she sacrificed some of her current clothing for this. Once she’d jotted the information down, she frowned at the tight, immaculate handwriting with its many little loops, wondering about its legibility because being self-critical came all too naturally to her, passing it back to Estella when she was reasonably satisfied, unhappily awaiting the note that she’d have to co-sign—ridiculous of course, but a necessary evil.
“Perhaps you could draw up more than one idea?” the redhead suggested hopefully, almost immediately nibbling on her lip, shoulders drooping as she became apologetic. “If that’s possible, I’m sorry, I suppose that it must be somewhat time consuming, mustn’t it? My brother tends to linger on his drawings for awhile, but he’s very particular.”
The student winced, eyelids flicking shut as she heard her own unfortunate wording.
“Lady forgive me! I’m not trying to suggest that you aren’t particular with your designs, Fionn is just… he gets very caught up in redrawing the same bit over and over and… uh, yes.”
Gods, she never seemed capable of having an ordinary, unproblematic conversation for more than a few seconds at a time and frankly, she had to wonder why she could never prevent her own embarrassment; humiliating herself shouldn’t feel like a foregone conclusion.
“Please, try to imagine that I didn’t say anything at all after that first question for both of our sakes,” the Living Conversationalist added quietly, all too aware that the flush of her face and the shameful remembrance lingering as evidence of her recent social misstep. In truth, it would have been preferable if she could simply have erased the morning and have begun again, repeating events as often as necessary until she proved that she could be anything other than an utter fool. Alas, a person’s stream couldn’t be made to flow backwards from the Deep Spring—more’s the pity.
Of course, the little visit had all the potential to be her undoing, not only in the eyes of her parents but also in those of her peers, even Rina, who did not truly know her well. After all, she had come to seek the means to cause a scandal on St. Grumble’s, and the Mugrobi girl would have been more than correct in thinking of her as some sort of— some sort of no-good hussy!
In the grand scheme of things, a few ill-advised words were hardly cause for concern—not that it would stop her from reviewing every minute error at a later time
Her cocoa was a wonderful thing really. Oh yes, of course it was enjoyable as a beverage, but more than that, it provided her with a perfect excuse to pay attention to something other than Rina. Unhappily, the warm mug didn’t contain a cure for her social anxiety and awkwardness, but at this moment, it was certainly a balm for it. All the same, she was glad to take a sip of it when she retrieved it from the floor, and not simply due to the fact that it bought her time while she tried to compose herself to deal with the other’s sympathy for her situation.
When she finally mustered the will to turn her hazel eyes to the other’s face, she managed an answering smile, perhaps more grim than sad.
“It’s certainly a… regrettable situation, but one I hope won’t be as uh… permanent as intended,” the galdor confided, picking a speck of lint from her skirt, her lip twisting to belie the fact that she wasn’t quite as brave as she was trying to seem. Even so, she did chuckle at her companion’s question, pink glowing anew in her cheeks as she thought of the monic theorist.
“Something of both to be honest. There is someone who I… well, I wouldn’t mind catching his eye,” she explained, lips turning up slyly. “Not that I think that I’m truly transparent to him, but he isn’t exactly- he can be oblivious to some things until they’re emphasised. The same will likely be true with me so… scandalous rather than conservative. It’s at least one of the reasons that I’ve come to you.”
Niamh laughed again, a tad deprecating.
“I can’t quite trust myself to do what is necessary— not alone. Are you willing to help me do so?”