[Closed] Away, Away
Posted: Thu Mar 05, 2020 1:24 pm
Late Afternoon, 34 Dentis, 2719
Lecture Room, Richards Wing, Clairvoyant Building
Lecture Room, Richards Wing, Clairvoyant Building
Nkemi had cleaned up after the demonstration she had given of her mingled clairvoyant-static spell to the interested students of Brunnhold. She had taken the ink from the map and drawn it back into the container of like substances, clearing it from the desk. She had taken the small stones from the corners of the map and tucked them one by one into her pocket, and she had rolled up the heavy parchment, and set it to the side of the low table, where the map had been when she entered the room; she did not know where it was to go, not properly, or else she would have taken it there.
“No need to clean the floor,” Andressa said, smiling.
Nkemi looked up, wide-eyed.
“The passives will straighten up the room,” Andressa said. The last of the students were still filing out of the lecture hall; they were all bright noise and warm green wool, chattering laughter and bright enthusiasm.
Nkemi hesitated, standing behind the small table. She glanced down at the plot she had sketched around the table, the neat lines of chalk still unsmudged. She looked back up at Andressa, and then smiled, politely. “I see,” Nkemi said. She did see; she had not been in Anaxas long, but she had been here long enough to see quite well. She had been here long enough, too, to feel it was no use to argue.
“Professor Jacquemond?” There was a quiet voice from the door. A short, red-headed boy stood there, shifting from foot to foot. He came inside and bowed, politely, taking out a folded piece of parchment; when he made it close enough to extend his hand, Nkemi could feel he had no field. “A note, professor.”
Andressa took the note, unfolding it; her brows raised. “The dean calls,” she said, reluctant, looking up at Nkemi. “I’m sorry, Nkemi. I had hoped to give you a tour tonight, but I’ve been waiting on this meeting for two weeks. I’ll meet you for lunc tomorrow though, as promised.”
“It is quite all right,” Nkemi bowed. “I am very grateful for all your hospitality,” she said, smiling at Andressa. “You have been a gracious host; I could not ask for even one grain of sand more from the turning glass of your time.”
Andressa grinned. “No one knows compliments quite like the Mugrobi,” she said, smiling at Nkemi. “It is a true pleasure, my dear, and I look forward to talking more tomorrow. I’m not so easy to get rid of.” She folded up the note and glanced back at the boy. “Tell Dean Papillionard I’ll be there soon.” She said, crisply.
The boy bowed again and was gone, as quickly and silently as he had come. Even he, Nkemi noticed, had not trod on the edge of the plot, even though he had needed to lean forward a little to reach Andressa without doing so.
Andressa glanced around. All students had gone, by now – all but one, the boy she had called Vickes, who was standing not too far from them. Nkemi smiled at him; she was not sure whether he was waiting for her or his professor. He had a very solemn face, she thought, but then so did most of the Hoxians she had met. She had never seen tattoos like this before, not on any of the Hoxians she had known in Thul Ka; Nkemi knew that she would have remembered.
“Mr. Vks,” Andressa said with a grin. “Would you be so good as to offer our visitor a brief tour of campus? Subprefect Nkemi will have to return to her duties in Vienda too soon; I should not like her to waste her night.” She smiled at him, waiting; there was impatience in the set of her shoulders, in a brief, aborted shift of movement, in the way her gaze was drawn half towards the door, and settled back on the student.
The moment she had his agreement, Andressa bowed to them both and was gone.
“Thank you,” Nkemi said, cheerfully, smiling at the student. “A tour isn’t necessary, but I would be very grateful.” She went to the small closet where she had seen a broom earlier, and a dustpan, and brought them out. “I am Nkemi, please! What is your name?” Nkemi asked. She set the dustpan down, and began sweeping, smooth, long strokes that gathered the chalk up in neat piles, working her way slowly and deliberately around the plot.
“No need to clean the floor,” Andressa said, smiling.
Nkemi looked up, wide-eyed.
“The passives will straighten up the room,” Andressa said. The last of the students were still filing out of the lecture hall; they were all bright noise and warm green wool, chattering laughter and bright enthusiasm.
Nkemi hesitated, standing behind the small table. She glanced down at the plot she had sketched around the table, the neat lines of chalk still unsmudged. She looked back up at Andressa, and then smiled, politely. “I see,” Nkemi said. She did see; she had not been in Anaxas long, but she had been here long enough to see quite well. She had been here long enough, too, to feel it was no use to argue.
“Professor Jacquemond?” There was a quiet voice from the door. A short, red-headed boy stood there, shifting from foot to foot. He came inside and bowed, politely, taking out a folded piece of parchment; when he made it close enough to extend his hand, Nkemi could feel he had no field. “A note, professor.”
Andressa took the note, unfolding it; her brows raised. “The dean calls,” she said, reluctant, looking up at Nkemi. “I’m sorry, Nkemi. I had hoped to give you a tour tonight, but I’ve been waiting on this meeting for two weeks. I’ll meet you for lunc tomorrow though, as promised.”
“It is quite all right,” Nkemi bowed. “I am very grateful for all your hospitality,” she said, smiling at Andressa. “You have been a gracious host; I could not ask for even one grain of sand more from the turning glass of your time.”
Andressa grinned. “No one knows compliments quite like the Mugrobi,” she said, smiling at Nkemi. “It is a true pleasure, my dear, and I look forward to talking more tomorrow. I’m not so easy to get rid of.” She folded up the note and glanced back at the boy. “Tell Dean Papillionard I’ll be there soon.” She said, crisply.
The boy bowed again and was gone, as quickly and silently as he had come. Even he, Nkemi noticed, had not trod on the edge of the plot, even though he had needed to lean forward a little to reach Andressa without doing so.
Andressa glanced around. All students had gone, by now – all but one, the boy she had called Vickes, who was standing not too far from them. Nkemi smiled at him; she was not sure whether he was waiting for her or his professor. He had a very solemn face, she thought, but then so did most of the Hoxians she had met. She had never seen tattoos like this before, not on any of the Hoxians she had known in Thul Ka; Nkemi knew that she would have remembered.
“Mr. Vks,” Andressa said with a grin. “Would you be so good as to offer our visitor a brief tour of campus? Subprefect Nkemi will have to return to her duties in Vienda too soon; I should not like her to waste her night.” She smiled at him, waiting; there was impatience in the set of her shoulders, in a brief, aborted shift of movement, in the way her gaze was drawn half towards the door, and settled back on the student.
The moment she had his agreement, Andressa bowed to them both and was gone.
“Thank you,” Nkemi said, cheerfully, smiling at the student. “A tour isn’t necessary, but I would be very grateful.” She went to the small closet where she had seen a broom earlier, and a dustpan, and brought them out. “I am Nkemi, please! What is your name?” Nkemi asked. She set the dustpan down, and began sweeping, smooth, long strokes that gathered the chalk up in neat piles, working her way slowly and deliberately around the plot.