Flashback [The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

(Philomena). Fallon begins her time studying literature in Zeltiva.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

[The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

Postby Fallon on March 19th, 2013, 12:53 pm

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4th Summer 511AV
Morning, 10th Bell

It was warm in Zeltiva, the summer having now taken a strong hold upon it. The clouds for the most part were absent in the sky above, and the city had sunk itself into a state of calm as it dealt with the people that came and went from its docks. The university however was no different. Students came and went, entering classes and seminars with their lecturers, to be taught the more traditional and academic subjects. This was exactly the same reason why Fallon Skylar was present within the West Wing of the University.

She had barely managed to make the enrolment, and it was perhaps down to luck and hasty that she had managed to get in. The ordeal however still left her mostly flustered and lost in the daunting shadow of the university. Still, she had an entire season to learn and catch up on her chosen area, Literature and the understanding of it. A rather more relaxing and refreshing area of study, in comparison to the previous ordeals and events that she had previously decided to look upon. And if anything, it gave her opportunity to simply forget the past for just a little while. Fallon took quick steps down the corridor, her eyes glancing to the outside world beyond the windows as she did. It still felt like a dream to her, as if what she saw was far from real. But it was real, and so her eyes lapped up whatever they laid upon, sealing it tight in her memory as a world that she thought she would never lay eyes on again. Her fist tightened around her spine of her note book for a moment, before relaxing.
It’s over now, you’re free. Leave it as only a distant memory.

On occasion she received the strange glance from another, no doubt wondering on how she could walk about within the summer still wearing a coat and gloves, leaving the majority of her flesh covered par the nape of her neck and head. Or more particularly why their hung a Kukri at her belt. She looked far from the sort that would be found looking in the depths of books after all, but that may have also been due to a slightly more scruffy nature. Sunberth after all was merciless upon her, and left her no doubt worse for wear than she normally would have been. Still the girl made herself look as presentable as she could, and hurried on her way to meet the professor she had been told that she was studying under. She had never met the woman before, and the only real knowledge she had was the name and the office that she ‘lurked in’, along with other rumours of her being supposedly socially awkward and a spinster- if she was to listen to the words of the student body that was. Fallon was sceptical to say the least.

For a while she hovered outside the office door, a moment of hesitation holding her back from knocking. She still remembered what happened the last time she knocked on the door and the torture she was put through. But this was Zeltiva; it was a new start, a new opportunity, with this simple action being the first hurdle. The girl inhaled, before raising a hand to knock upon the door.
“Uh, Professor Lefting? Can I come in, I’m a student?” She spoke through the door with the ring of uncertainty in her voice, “Here to study Literature?”
The rumours can’t be true right? I mean seriously, kind of mean calling a woman ugly. And talks like a sailor? She’s a professor!? Can’t be right. Can't be.
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

Postby Philomena on March 19th, 2013, 1:18 pm

The weather was so stifling that Minnie had finally relented and opened her window. It had been a hard choice, but she'd finally comforted herself that, perhaps, the heat was worse for the books than the humid sea-breeze. Tureens filled with dry sand sat on the front of every shelf in her room to suck in the soggy air, and her desk, covered in tidy stacks of papers and wax tablets, ink-pots, quills, and a series of little pebbles carefully arranged, had a scrap of canvas stretched like a hood around it to keep the breeze from disarranging her piles.

Minnie herself sat huddled under the screen. . her two braids were at a peculiarly abrupt unevenness today, one of them almost at her ear, and the other starting just above her nape. The hair was oily, and carried a strong smell of mineral spirit. She wore a deep green tartan jumper along with a hideous scrap of salmon that perhaps, once had been a scarf or shawl, bundled around her neck - rather unseasonably, since her skin sweat like a pig: Minnie was no lady, she did not glow. She oozed.

She heard the knock, it is true. It is unlikely she listened, because she stayed tense, a thin muscle in her neck pulsing in the back of her scrawny, unmuscular physique. But some part of her almost must have understood, for her voice piped up, dry and nasal.

"Who's 'at? I dunny lock it a' this time, walk in 'en," then in a lower mutter, "Petch me, petch me, Qalaya's dem dirty fingers, Lefting, wake up, there's a student 'ere."

Seh coughed, and closed her eyes, turning in her chair, leaving the eyes shut. Her voice reormed in her throat, as she came out of her research-trance, and she spoke with a nasal, almost wheedling softness, with a fair imitation of a high Zeltivan accent, "I'm sorry... yes... come in?"
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[The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

Postby Fallon on March 19th, 2013, 2:04 pm

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Fallon’s ears pricked to the sound of noise from beyond the door, before she heard the clear, beckoning call to enter. She wasted no time in doing so, and her gloved hand reached for the door knob without hesitation.
Here goes nothing.
The office of the professor was as she imagined, with the crisp sea air creeping in through the window. It was refreshing, but the hold of the stuffy room still grasped onto Fallon. She eyed the pots on shelf for a moment, her eye brow raised as she tried to work out why and what would be gained. Not that she pondered upon the thought for too long. Her eyes turned to the Professor who sat in her chair, reclined and relaxed, perhaps a bit too relaxed in the mind of Fallon. Yet then the eyes of Fallon became attentive to the Professor, her back straightening as she looked upon the sweltering form of the woman. Her head titled slightly to one side as it filtered through the rumours and words she had heard from others, a small frown briefly forming on her features.
Well… I suppose she is short… Fallon mused. Yet just as quickly as the thought came, did it vanish once more as there was a bigger priority to deal with currently.

“Professor Lefting? Sorry for intruding but,” she shifted on the spot for a moment, keeping her voice neutral. Unlike the professor however, there was not much of a defining accent to be spoken of. It was an assortment of several that merged into a crisp and cool undertone “I was sent here to study under you. I registered under the name Skylar. Fallon Skylar to be exact.”
She inhaled, taking in the musky air of books and salt. A scent that she would no doubt grow accustomed to as time went on, along with the presence of the woman. She gave an awkward smile, and gestured to the door before speaking once more “I can come back later professor if you are… previously engaged in something of greater importance.”
Like sleeping.
FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

Postby Philomena on March 19th, 2013, 2:57 pm

The professor pushes up a pair of spectacles, and opens her eyes, slowly at the words, peering through them at the girl. She blinks, thrice, slowly too, and says nothing - the whole queer affair takes perhaps, 15 beats, just a bit too long for comfort, not quite long enough to mean 'go away' to anyone who isn't too skittish.

Then she speaks.

"Class. Yes. Class. I have a class, don't I?"

Her tiny legs swing back and forth under the seat, not reaching the floor, and she cocks her head in thought, frowning. The cock of the head stretches her neck, showing just the corner of a rather fat and ragged red scar beneath the salmon scarf. She chews her lip - when most people do this, it is more a tic, casual, more a nibble than anythign else. Minnie bites down quite hard, clearly trying to focus her attention hard enough to redirect it to the business at hand. When she releases the gesture, a pin-prick of darker flesh marks where her teeth where in the pink lips.

"Ms... Schiller? WAs that it? Come in, sit. You are taking a class on Zeltivan literature? Was it a requirement, or are you here of your own accord?"
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Postby Fallon on March 19th, 2013, 3:42 pm

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“Yes, you do have a class,” Fallon rubbed her brow, and watched the professor adjust herself.
She became a silent observer, watching the mannerisms from a distance- even if it was the short space from the doorway to the desk. It was interesting to say the least in the mind of the girl, to watch a woman of a higher understanding ponder upon the words of one who was younger. Her eyes spied the scar for a moment, before sliding away to the desk and the ink that rested upon it. The history of the Professor was her own to keep, and Fallon would not pry upon. Just as she would prefer people not to pry upon her own.

“Skylar,” Fallon corrected with a smile before quietly taking up a chair at the request of the woman. She perched herself quietly down, the bag that was resting on her shoulder being placed on the floor, with her note book now resting on her lap, and her gloved hands covering it “And yes I am indeed, though it is more of a personal requirement instead an employment driven one. Literature after all is a rather interesting subject, if not on the level of enjoying the reading then the process a writer had to go through to get there. It might take moments to read something, but it takes an age to understand what is meant by it.”
Her eyes turned up to face the professor, the attentive nature returning once more. Enough had been said for the moment, and should the professor demand more Fallon would answer. Though not completely should the wrong questions be asked. Her hand opened her note book and turned a blank page, whilst the other fished about in her bag for her quill and ink. A sign that she was ready to take notes and to learn “So, Professor, where are we beginning?”
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

Postby Philomena on March 19th, 2013, 7:49 pm

The professor nods, and smiles. Like most of Minnie's features, her smiles are not attractive - her lips are too thin, and a bit chapped, the wrinkles of her eyes crinkle, her teeth are yellowing and unhealthy. But, it humanizes her face, it appears... at least perhaps like a clumsy sort of attempt at being pleasant.

"You... write, do you? Or read a good bit?"

She bows her head softly, and murmurs a sub-vocal prayer to Qalaya, then sits back up.

"I have a great admiration for writers. Perhaps we... can... "

She blushes. Pauses a moment. Nods her head.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... reading. Yes. Well. You say you want to take Literature to learn about writing? Or about reading? The two disciplines are sisters in the same bed, but still quite different."
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Postby Fallon on March 19th, 2013, 8:36 pm

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It was perhaps the light laugh that came from the lips of Fallon at that point. She watched the Professor blush, and her words become fumbled as she remembered the company she was in. But the laughter was not one that meant to be rude, it was more at the moment of distraction that came across the Professor, as if she was thinking upon something deeper other than just simple education.
“Please, relax,” she scratched the back of her head as she spoke “I do write, on occasion. Though… none of it’s that good. Let’s just say… I haven’t had a lot of time to settle down and write properly lately. Perhaps when I am more accustomed to writing once more I’ll brave showing some.”
Well… it is partially true. Noticed you left out Sunberth and Sahova though. She doesn’t need to know about that.

Fallon prepared herself to take notes, her eyes turning once more to her writing equipment and the blank page before her. For a while she simply stared at it, looking at the creases and folds that existed there, her gloved finger feeling the page beneath. She frowned for a moment, listening and remembering the words of the professor.
“Both, for although they are as you say very different, they are also important to learn. Though… they say knowledge is found through reading. Along with history and other important things,” she shrugged as she picked up her ink vial at that point, studying the contents “But, you are the professor so I will follow your wisdom on what you deem to be the better choice at present. After all, I am just a novice in this field.”

Her hand at that point lowered the vial, and allowed herself to get comfortable in her chair. She pulled off her gloves and revealing those slender, pale hands to the air, her fingers stretching before she prepared herself to write once more “If you don’t mind me asking… which do you prefer Professor? Writing or reading? Or are you like myself and prefer both?”
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[The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

Postby Philomena on March 20th, 2013, 3:50 pm

Minnie blushes, slightly - the girl is really quite humanizing, in her way, which makes Minnie a bit uncomfortable. She prefers, generally, to separate self from work. Self is dangerous, it causes trouble. Work is safe an quiet and bland in its interhuman parts.

"Well... I write my research. I... have played with other things, but that's all. I do not... I dont think I am a writer. Simply a recorder. Some people are called to do great things, and some of us simply write down what the great do, hmm? I write on poetry, and then a great deal about Kenabelle Wright and the Circumnavigation. You have... read it?"

She scans the girl again, and frowns, looking at the blade hanging at her side. She opens her mouth to speak, almost does. Then shuts it again, silent a moment. She opens it again.

"Your... sword. It makes you... feel safe, perhaps?"
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Postby Fallon on March 20th, 2013, 4:38 pm

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Fallon paused, trying to recall the title in her mind before she simply shook her head. Although perhaps some distant memory would indeed say she had heard of the title, she was certain she had never read it.
“I haven’t. Though I have heard one or two things about this… Wright. I think… I think she got caught up in Avanthal,” her face turned into a deep frown at that point as if she was truly searching her mind for the answer “Something to do with the snow I believe.”
It was understandable in her mind at least. Having walked in the cold air of Avanthal herself she felt it was possible for a boat to be caught within the ice and snow of the north.

For a moment she looked a bit hesitant, her right hand reaching for her brow and rubbing it. Pale hands and an unusual golden mark resting upon the tendons. To the unknowing it would have seemed as little more than a strange tattoo, and most probably to the professor also. But then a question was asked, and Fallon’s eyes turned from to meet hers.
“It is far from a sword. It is a Kukri,” she said, her eyes peering out from beneath her hand. It came as no surprise that the professor would eventually question its presence on her person. Her eyes turned away, and down to the blank page of her book “It is more of a memory. A reminder. And I suppose, to a degree, it does make me feel safe. Though… not for the obvious reasons as it may seem,” Her hand lowered at that point, her eyes turning distant as she remembered times that were long buried. She exhaled, and spoke once more in a crisp and direct tone, “If you wish it gone from your sight, then I shall make it so.”
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[The West Wing] Write something worth reading.

Postby Philomena on March 20th, 2013, 4:55 pm

Minnie frowns, and stares at the sword. Or whatever. The sharp object. Her mind does not make great distinctions in the area, unless it is important to understanding a poem. She is silent a moment, but then she shakes her head, "No. No, it is alright. I dunny think s'much of blades," her voice slips unconsciously into the edges of a brogue, "They dun mean 'friend' when you're growing in Zeltiva, you know. But I dunny think much o' me if I were to 'ave you hide it if it is something o' what you are."

She shook her head, though, and wiped a net of invisible cobwebes from before her eyes, "But yes!" her voice refinds its level, and in fact, as she speaks, slowly accelerates, "Yes, partly the snow, you're right, Captain Wright was caught in the ice, and locked into harbor there. It would've been costly enough, just that, of course, though they were prepared for delay if they had to have one, the cold alone of course must be brutal there, I have no doubt. But it was the fever that nearly ended the expedition, the White Fever of the North! My friend, Professor Watchtower, who was one of the University contingent on the voyage told me about it, it was a horrible, horrible thing, I... sickness, plagues..."

Her voice caught a minute on the word, and she paused, opening and closing her eyes, slowly.

"Yes... well. Sorry. Yes. The fever, it killed a great number of the crew, they were almost undered by it. I'd give my hands to go there one day, to learn about it. Zeltiva does not sail so far now, it was ne'er a safe passage that far, you know, and noone has managed it since Kenabelle did - or at least noone has made it so far and back. Several 've tried. But we know nothing about it, but for a handful of eyewitness accounts, and none by proper physiologists! Think on that!"

The speech was more at the girl than TO the girl.

"And then, just ... to see it. To see her harbor. IT would be an honor, it would, to see the beaches where so many of them lie, and great ones, too, some. It would be an honor. I would not go, because I would send a poet in my place."
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