When Will I See You Again

Anaxas' oldest and most prestigious University of Sorcery, the de facto cultural capital of the kingdom and a city in its own right.
User avatar
Fionn
Posts: 59
Joined: Wed Nov 28, 2018 11:17 am
Topics: 14
Race: Passive
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Post Templates: Post Templates
Plot Notes: [url=http:/fullurl/]Plot Notes[/url]
Writer: Maximus
Contact:

Fri Feb 08, 2019 6:02 pm

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
.
Image
The passive often hadn't been considered the brightest when it came to carrying out actions that led to punishment being meted out but by the Circle, he'd definitely given leave of his senses today.

He'd wrangled with Ayden, really wrangled with his patron because he'd been furious. He'd already been ready to go through the brunette for a shortcut the previous evening after Lars, gods...

The bastard had made him choose between two fates for his roommate and he'd chosen a disastrous one, the other blond's blood left everywhere, blood pumping out of the older servant while Ayden dragged Fionn away. He hadn't been able to help his roommate at all and it had broken him. He'd chosen Lars obviously, unable to forgive his patron and long-term lover, and that had started it all really, hadn't it?

When he'd gotten back to the room and found the older boy gone and Jamie had given directions that sounded like they had headed to Laboratory Beta, the young man had been able to bury many of his thoughts, going off the deep end in terms of sanity for a little while but it had come back to him.

Maybe he'd have been better off if he'd managed to stay out of his right senses.

He'd chosen Lars, too little too late as he could hardly tell him at that point, and then he'd remembered exactly who the boy was to him - had been. If he'd just been left with that then perhaps he would have been able to cope, not well but it was possible that he could have done it. Unfortunately, two things happened. Lars didn't make an appearance and neither did word of his well-being and a particular piece of gossip finally reached his ears.

It had been during his shift with some of the seamstresses, struggling with a needle and thread (he'd never been great at sewing and the like) when he'd overheard it and nearly shoved the point through his finger. Fionn had to bite his lip to stop himself from swearing fluently, simply shoving the injured digit into his mouth while he went the stealthy route for a change, cocking an ear in the direction of the conversation while he continued to work away.

The conversation was an interesting one indeed but to the passive, it was mainly horrifying. It was about what had happened at the 6th year's formal dinner, the infamous dinner where Lars was meant to have upset some galdori. Ayden had told him that the blond had fucked up but... apparently he hadn't. Instead, he was the talk of the Passive Wing - Clock the Circle, why hadn't he heard this sooner?! - because the Gioran ambassador had treated Lars like a person and then apparently gotten into a spat with one of the professors. While the blond had committed a minor infraction by spilling something on said professor, the main thing seemed to be that he'd been treated like something on a level with a galdor. When they'd started talking about how the blond was moony and how such a thing could go to his head, Fionn had finally lost his cool, snarling at them that they couldn't talk about Lars like that; they didn't have the right.

He'd stormed off after that, putting as much distance between the gossiping passives and himself as possible. He didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to think that the boy had done something so minor and Ayden had tricked him into-

No, he couldn't bear it.

But the whispers had followed him, the topic an apparent favourite among the servants who talked rapidly, oft beneath their breaths although he caught the odd words, enough, as they spread it from one to the other.

He'd beaten Lars up for nothing. He'd beaten his roommate so severely that he'd been fairly certain since that his wounds had been mortal. And he'd done it to save him from what he deemed to be a worse fate, all because Ayden had lied well enough, twisted the truth just enough that Fionn filled in the gaps himself and had done his bidding. The parse wasn't solely to blame, he wasn't the one who'd jumped to conclusions after all but gods, as soon as his shift was over, he was out of there, ready to confront the bastard, to call him out on his lying and manipulation.

Which hadn't gone well.

Not only had something snapped in the considerably taller parse that had made him slam a punch into his gut and very nearly dislocate Fionn's arm, but he'd also left the young man feeling worse than when he'd gone to confront him. Not only had he shifted the blame onto Fionn for jumping to conclusions, for taking things so far. But he'd also pointed out something that had been on every passive's lips who'd talked about it, that Lars couldn't be allowed to think too highly about himself, to get any moony ideas about his station.

It was something that was left to haunt the blond, plaguing his thoughts when he finally escaped his patron's room, the world sitting heavily on his shoulders.

"The boy needed to be reminded that he's worthless; you did an excellent job of that, Fionn."

He didn't think that he'd ever get that statement out of his head, least of all because it was true, so bloody true. He'd made promises to Lars and from the other's perspective, he'd broken them almost gleefully because what was Lars worth to anybody? He was a scrap and a lowly one at that. He'd beaten him bloody and then left him there on the floor like he was rubbish, utterly worthless.

Except that to Fionn he wasn't and that was what made it so agonising and standing up to Ayden had been so utterly pointless.

If Lars was on the bottom of the scrapheap in everyone's eyes then Fionn was right down there with him and glad to have such company. Provided that Lars was still alive. He'd heard nothing though, the silence either a good sign or an ominous one depending on how you looked at it but the middle Madden had to know. He had to find out where he was, if he was okay, if... he'd ever want to be in the same room as Fionn again. The passive wanted to be able to tell the other that he didn't think that he was worthless, to debase himself at the other's feet and if he made good on his promise to kill Fionn for hurting him then so be it.

The teen passive was his slave to do with as he saw fit honestly. He just wanted a chance to explain first, to apologise, to try to undo any damage he'd done psychologically.

And so, in spite of the fact that it might get him in trouble, the passive made his way to Laboratory Beta, hoping that he could find the answers he sought about Lars' wellbeing from Devlin or Moore, maybe even seeing the young man himself. Maybe it was the idea of seeing Lars that made him so jittery or perhaps it was the idea that he might arrive at the lab and they'd have no notion of what had happened to his roommate because he was in some tunnel somewhere... gone.

When he got to the lab door, he hesitated for a scant moment before knocking briskly, preventing himself from backing out of this. The knock was the sound of his presence and he didn't think that he had to wait to be invited in so he turned the handle, taking a step through the doorway before stopping dead as he found himself met with the sight of a galdor woman instead of either of the expected male professors. Fionn froze and stared, wondering if he should simply bolt.

He couldn't be around a galdor woman, he couldn't guarantee that he'd be able to keep a civil tongue.

Oh boy!
Last edited by Fionn on Sat Feb 16, 2019 10:55 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 1432

User avatar
Maximus
Posts: 8
Joined: Wed Jul 04, 2018 7:09 am
Topics: 3
Location: Ireland
Race: Writer
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Post Templates: [url=http:/fullurl/]Post Templates[/url]
Plot Notes: [url=http:/fullurl/]Plot Notes[/url]
Contact:

Sat Feb 09, 2019 6:00 pm

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
.
Image
Once again, the young woman found herself in Laboratory Beta, cleaning up after Professor Harper Moore. Once again, she was dealing with the fact that he'd decided to turn his place of work into a sleeping space, leaving a trail of things behind him as he moved about in his distracted way.

Niamh had been looking forward to being here all day.

It was an odd thing really, wanting to be here to tidy up the man's mess but it gave her a chance to be near him, to appreciate him in a way that she struggled to do when she was in the man's presence. The things that he left lying around gave an insight into his thought processes, how his mind moved from one thing to another, mind distracted, some thought pulling him away from more practical matters, mundane matters like tidying up after himself. Frankly, she thought that it was sweet.

It was so easy to be fully absorbed by him, the monic theorist successfully managing to fill any room that he was in, at least from the eldest Madden's perspective. She could happily listen to him talk, especially if he got onto the topic of passives. It was heartening to hear someone speak about them as something more than filth, to speak of them as if they were on the same level as galdori. It didn't make him popular with others in Brunnhold, both himself and Castor Devlin seen as crackpots at best and radicals at worse. However, Devlin had a better time of things than his younger counterpart, as a Magister and a well-known face in Brunnhold politics.

Moore should have been better respected but he wasn't, seen as an odd shut-in, spending more time in the lab worrying about scraps rather than spending time with decent, whole galdori. It was something that the redhead had disliked hearing even before she'd met the man, the sneering voices of her peers grating on her as they judged him for something that she deemed noble. She had admired his cause, his purpose, his unwillingness to back down in the face of opposition, even before she'd had a chance to speak and work with him.

But then she was one of those weird sympathisers, wasn't she? Someone who saw passives as people but then why shouldn't she? Her brother was one.

Not that she'd seen Fionn since he'd been dragged off to Brunnhold of course but damn them all, she'd wanted to see him. Her parents had forbidden it after his failed initiation test when she'd asked questions about him, her peers had hissed warnings at her when she seemed to pine over him following her return to school, teachers who'd been disapproving when she'd asked questions about him too. Everyone had told her to leave things well enough alone, better that she only have one brother from then on and forget about the blond who was the black sheep of the family. But how could she forget about the boy who had ripped their family wide open? The boy who had been broken before his test, broken in ways that had nothing to do with his ability to use magic.

Niamh had done what she was told but she'd never stopped thinking about him, left to consider the passive question and Fionn more after her youngest brother, Oísin, was caught up in a passive diablerie. He'd become terrified of the defective galdori while his sister had grown fascinated. It was odd how much they'd diverged in recent years, the siblings often at odds with one another, Niamh scolding him for things she'd seen him do to the passive servants, despising him for his needless cruelty towards them, while he seemed disgusted by her both for interfering in his business and for seeing passives as people. They'd never been overly close but they'd grown further apart over time. It was Fionn that she'd been closer to, the pair similar enough in age and temperament, both suffering in their own ways for existing. The young woman was the wrong sex for her very conservative Incumbent father, her status as eldest unimportant in the face of the fact that she was only good for marrying off and Fionn? Well, he was the blond, the odd-one-out, the one whose looks came from an unknown place - a suspected bastard - so of course Toibín had hated the boy.

Both of them had bonded over their own injustices and while they hadn't seen each other in over eight years, the girl felt closer to him than she should have. She felt that they would still be good friends and if he was what her father thought he was, if one of her mother's affairs had indeed born fruit then Fionn was still her half-brother and... so what?

But she still hadn't encountered him. It was awkward to go looking for him now but since she'd been helping Moore and Devlin with their research, passives brought in to aid them with their data, she'd hoped that he'd show up sooner or later; thus far, he had not. She wasn't in this for him though, not solely. It was all for the passive cause and she was happy to help out where she could. Even if that meant organising some of Harper's scattered notes.

The young woman gathered up the various papers that she found, some of them nonsensical scribbles, the product of some logic that presumably only Harper could follow; it was in his hand. But she gathered it together, filing things away appropriately, tutting over different things, occasionally laughing to herself until a knock came at the door.

She set down the dirty teacup she'd been holding, taking quick steps towards the door with the intent of answering but pausing as it was opened without any invitation, a blond boy taking a step across the threshold before he stopped. The uniform and the rigid demeanour said passive, the boy - well, he was boyish in the face but the eyes were old for a teenager so perhaps it was more accurate to call him a man - wore the appearance of an animal that had found itself suddenly and inescapably cornered.

The penultimate year student had never seen him before but there was something familiar about him, no doubt that hunted, haunted look in those brown eyes that she'd seen in some passives before. She smiled in an attempt to reassure him, clasping her hands together as she let them drop below her waist, pressed lightly against her uniform's skirts.

"Well hello there. Don't worry, I'm not going to harm you. Won't you come in?"

She gestured for him to walk in, turning so that she was standing looking at him sidelong, less threatening in profile - she hoped - than when she was facing him head on.

"Are you looking for Professor Moore? Or Professor Devlin?" she asked, a slight change in colour in her cheeks at mentioning her crush's name.
word count: 1236
User avatar
Fionn
Posts: 59
Joined: Wed Nov 28, 2018 11:17 am
Topics: 14
Race: Passive
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Post Templates: Post Templates
Plot Notes: [url=http:/fullurl/]Plot Notes[/url]
Writer: Maximus
Contact:

Sun Feb 17, 2019 10:21 am

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
.
Image
Fionn didn't deal with women too often. Well, that wasn't strictly true. He dealt with matrons if they were overseeing his work details and he dealt with passive women who were... well, either they were literally passive or they were a bit more willing to talk to him but... there was distance. There always had to be distance. You couldn't have a proper conversation with someone of the opposite sex, not really. It was too dangerous and rebellious as the young man was, he wasn't completely stupid. The relationships that he had with women were extremely superficial, limited and frankly, it was easier for him just to keep out of their way. Especially as they were so incredibly tempting. Frankly things would be a lot easier if he was simply gay because then he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that women were deliciously attractive.

But passive women couldn't hold themselves the way that a galdor one could. The way that this one did. Even though she was being somewhat demure, she still had a surety about her, a confidence that was being toned down, he realised, for his sake. She was trying not to intimidate him, which was... kind of laughable. As if he'd be intimidated by this slip of a woman who couldn't have been much older than him judging by the uniform. She might only be an inch or so smaller than him but if he punched her then he could break her.

Not that he was going to punch her, of course, because there was no reason to do so - he wasn't completely off the wall after all - and she was too pretty to hurt. Sweet Lady, why did she have to be pretty? Kind to him when she didn't even know him and he certainly didn't deserve it. Was there something about Laboratory Beta? Something in the air that made all the gollies go funny around passives? Or did Moore and Devlin only associate with people like them? Not that she could be an associate, not a real one, she was only a student. And yet she thought that he would be frightened of her, as if she could hurt him. On some level, he knew what she was of course but he was so used to dealing with women who didn't have magic and was so often kept away from galdori because he couldn't behave himself that he forgot for a minute.

"You aren't gonna harm me? What the fuck do you think you a- Oh right," he snapped out as he stepped forward, wincing as he encountered her field. Damn, she was strong or maybe it was the shock of encountering it so unexpectedly. His hand rose to the back of his neck, rubbing it in his discomfort, jaw working.

He'd already sworn at her, it made a great first impression, it really did. It probably wasn't the best thing to do, irritating a galdor, especially one who he might want to get information out of but then... maybe she didn't know anything useful.

"Sorry. For swearing, I shouldn't have- I haven't had the best day," he muttered, a hand moving unconsciously to his stomach where Ayden had punched him. It was quite tender, it had been quite a whack but in truth, the blond had suffered worse. It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

"I was... hoping to talk to Moore or Devlin but... it doesn't matter, I shouldn't have come. I just... I wanted to see if they knew about something, someone. He's my fri- well, he probably wouldn't see himself as- wouldn't see me as- It doesn't matter. I just thought he might have ended up here and that they could tell me how he was but... It's okay, I'll come back... some other time," he murmured, talking a step back.

He wasn't going to run away from a galdor. He wasn't going to give any galdor the satisfaction of running off with his tail between his legs. He certainly wasn't going to run away from this pretty little girl with her pleasant blushing face who thought that she could treat him like... well, it wasn't even that she was treating him like a person. She was treating him like some frightened animal that was beneath her. Maybe that was why he couldn't just walk out. His temper just had to rise to the fore.

"You know, just because you're a galdor doesn't mean that I have to be frightened of you. Magic can't always help you," he spat out, his words managing to carry the sting of threat.
word count: 835
User avatar
Maximus
Posts: 8
Joined: Wed Jul 04, 2018 7:09 am
Topics: 3
Location: Ireland
Race: Writer
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Post Templates: [url=http:/fullurl/]Post Templates[/url]
Plot Notes: [url=http:/fullurl/]Plot Notes[/url]
Contact:

Mon Feb 18, 2019 5:59 pm

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
.
Image
Niamh didn't know what she'd expected. It wasn't that she thought of passives as truly well... passive, she just didn't expect them to snap at her. They were made docile, it was a by-product of what was done to them and while it wasn't something she agreed with, the redhead had simply assumed that they were like that. They didn't really talk back, didn't really share opinions, not unless they'd been coaxed into doing so. It tended to take time to undo the habit of years but then... maybe he was young enough that the habits hadn't really set in yet. There was something childish about his features so perhaps he was younger than she'd thought, even in spite of the old eyes.

That face was familiar though, she'd seen it somewhere, although she thought she'd have remembered the attitude that went with it if that was the case. She'd never known a passive to be so godsbedamned sullen, the boy walking in as if the galdor had caused him personal affront by suggesting that she might be a danger to him. Niamh's hazel eyes were suddenly huge, lips moving in soundless confusion. The eldest Madden wasn't the violent type - was very much in favour of helping everyone in fact - but she could still cause a great deal of harm if she needed to do so. She was a Living Conversationalist primarily: she could harm as readily as she could help. Yes, there wasn't much to her physically but she wasn't entirely useless.

It wasn't until he stepped into the scope of her field and stopped dead, realisation clearly dawning on his face. The student was shocked to find that he had somehow missed the fact that she was galdori. She was in uniform, student rather than servant uniform so surely it was obvious, right? Apparently not.

Niamh straightened up, chin rising a little in proud defiance as she considered him. How could he fail to see what she was? Had he thought that she was a passive? Really? How could this boy make such a silly mistake? Did he think that passives could just wander around, hang around in a laboratory by themselves as if they owned the place? How could he just... fail to realise that she was a galdor? Sure, passives could look like her, you couldn't always tell by looking but in this case...

Niamh was mystified, utterly mystified. She could only blink at him, watching his awkwardness but also his obvious anger in the tension of his jaw. Was he angry at her? At himself? But damn if there wasn't something very familiar about him. The face, something about the expression, a sense of having seen it before through younger eyes when the contours had been even softer than they were now. It was something that niggled at the back of her mind, feeling within its reaches, certain that if she just stretched a little further that she'd get it.

However, he was suddenly apologetic, still on edge and unhappy so that she wondered how much of that anger and swearing was a front, a hard facade so that nobody could hurt what was behind it. Clock the Circle, there was something familiar about that behaviour though. There was something familiar about him. It left her distracted, nodding along in silent acknowledgement of his words, missing some of the underlying facets of his speech, the missteps and stutters. Maybe if she was paying attention, she'd have seen something similar in his talk of a friend to how she talked about Harper Moore. Minus the guilt, of course.

"Whoever you're looking for, I might know about them or I can at least ask. You just have to ask, I'm not your enemy, you know. I work with the professors so if you know them then you know that I... share their views," she pointed out, pushing hair back from her face, something extremely thoughtful about her expression, frozen there at his attempt at a parting shot. It cooled by degrees.

"Was that a threat? I don't know who you think you are but you aren't in a position to be threatening me. I'm not here to frighten you. You don't have to think that everyone is against you! Just because you're a passive doesn't mean that you have to think you're alone," she threw back, reminded of another person who had tried to shrug her off, who'd thought he was alone.

Fionn.

It was an uncanny feeling, what went through her when she thought of him in relation to this boy. Recognition, discomfort, guilt.

How many years had it been since she'd seen her brother? There had been plenty of room for change of course but she'd always thought that she'd know him instantly. And yet... she wasn't sure, even as she mentally checked off similarities, reaching back a decade to when she'd known him better before her own entry to Brunnhold. Those memories were dimmer, fuzzier around the edges than she would have thought, the features a blur.

Could it be her Fionn? This sullen, snapping passive who seemed to think that everyone was against him... Gods, he could so easily be her brother.

"Was it your own fault?" she blurted out, the question an odd one but one that her brother would probably understand. It wasn't relevant here, not really but if it was her Fionn then it'd get a reaction wouldn't it? Something more than confusion.

She scanned his face earnestly, stepping forward.

"Your friend... you think he ended up here? We wouldn't do anything bad to him, you know. The things you hear... they're just stories," Niamh added, offering him a hesitant smile.
word count: 1021
Post Reply Previous topicNext topic

Return to “Brunnhold”

  • Information
  • Who is online

    Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest