Octavian had decided to attempt a better understanding of Judeo-Christian theology, idiocy though he knew it to be. His conversation with Michael had convinced him he ought to know his enemy
( Read more... )
Octavian's angst got Vladimir thinking about the same thing, a topic he'd been trying to avoid too much except in the most objective of terms. He'd been trying to not have any specific feelings about his relocation, as, it would be unproductive to sulk about it when there wasn't anything he could do about it. So, he'd been leaning on a split time stream theory which was based around him still being at home, presumably assuming everything was normal, while this instance of him had somehow started to occur at Hogwarts. Some sort of bizarre bend in space and time both had to have occurred to bring him here, and as it was an anomaly, the statistical probability of returning to his standard stream of consciousness was unlikely, so for sanity's sake, he felt it best to presume his current theory.
"I like to think that I am still there performing my job, while this is merely some unlikely anomaly that has caused me to experience some adjacent existence of scant probability. It's a little easier to handle the concept of exile that way." He smirked slightly, but didn't really have the heart to be sardonic at the moment, so he grew more somber. "I've been finding it best, as, there is not such a strong feeling of neglected duty. It's been allowing at least some level of enjoyment of this enforced retirement."
He finished off his wine, thinking a change of subject was in order. "This is why teaching seems like it would prove an excellent distraction. I need to find the 'Muggle Studies' wing to confirm that it's a good choice. And to watch some form of presentation called 'The Maury Povich Show'. Although I am inclined to not trust suggestions made by a hat, the hat did mention it in conjunction with some matters I wouldn't have expected it to know about."
Much less conversant with notions of time travel, alternate universes, and the like, Octavian found the Baron's chosen explanation at once ingenious and disheartening. If he, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus, were not to return to Rome, what purpose would he have in the world? What reason for living?
It could not be contemplated, not now; best to lay it aside for a more opportune moment, a space of solitude. Octavian let pass the notion unremarked, and gave his attention readily to the introduction of a new topic.
"Muggle Studies? But I know where that classroom and office are located," he said at once. "Shall I take you there?"
Vladimir's ability to use his theory in order to better tolerate his exile, as it did make it impersonal, was probably due to his age. He was already approaching the point where he realized he didn't have forever, and being a dedicated hedonist, he did wish to enjoy his remaining years to the best of his ability. And so, if he was actually stuck here, there was at least the consolation that he'd be able to do so without nearly as high a likelihood of assassins or poison or other common causes of Imperial death. It still wasn't a cheering topic. There were a great deal of things he was starting to seriously miss, especially the bedroom slaves.
Octavian's offer to take him to the Muggle studies department was an excellent distraction, and he smiled thankfully. Octavian was far better company than any house elf he could order to take him there. "You know where it is? I'd appreciate that very much, Octavian- I confess I'm growing impatient to learn more about it." He wondered briefly if he wasn't quite polite enough in his response- after all, this was Augustus Caesar offering to escort him around a school! "Only if it wouldn't interrupt any of your plans, of course." He hoped this would cover any possible breach of etiquette.
"Quite the contrary, I've had my fill of this stuff for the day," Octavian said as he rose and gathered his books. The books, of course, were this stuff.
In his own mind, Octavian was still the young protege of Julius Caesar, not the eminent (indeed, august) personage recorded in the annals of history. He was not yet Augustus Caesar in his own mind -- indeed, he knew of the Augustus name only from his readings in Hogwarts' library; himself, he had been considering the name Romulus, not Augustus at all. He was used to being the junior member of any important gathering, the underestimated whelp of the Julii; and as such, he saw nothing odd about serving as guide to one of his elders.
It might also be noted that Octavian thought of the Baron, by this time, as a sort of foreign potentate.
He gathered up his blanket and whatnot, and tucked them away in the basket the elves had provided for him; the books he carried in a bookbag. Laden with his various accoutrements, he might have looked like a servant himself -- except that as soon as he and the Baron re-entered the castle, Octavian snapped his fingers to summon a house elf at once, and loaded the elf down with the lot of it, imparting curt instructions as to the disposition thereof. This left him unencumbered for the short walk to the Muggle Studies room.
As they walked, he told the Baron what he remembered of the Muggle Studies room. It did not help that the objects in the room were nearly as unfamiliar to Octavian as to a purebred wizard. He remembered televisions from his visit to Muggle Scotland, when Maia had explained all sorts of things to him. Atari systems, not so much. He did know the room contained a model kitchen, though he readily confessed he had not the faintest notion how Muggles worked the appliances -- "they ought to have slaves for that," said the young patrician.
Also, there was a stereo. He had the vaguest notion about those. "They are played by 'deejays'," Octavian related. Thus had his nightclub visit taught him. And because he had to explain that, too, he described the nightclub he had visited: "utterly ghastly, and frequented by the worst sort of people." By the time he had finished denouncing the lowlifes of Glasgow, they had reached the Muggle Studies room.
"I like to think that I am still there performing my job, while this is merely some unlikely anomaly that has caused me to experience some adjacent existence of scant probability. It's a little easier to handle the concept of exile that way." He smirked slightly, but didn't really have the heart to be sardonic at the moment, so he grew more somber. "I've been finding it best, as, there is not such a strong feeling of neglected duty. It's been allowing at least some level of enjoyment of this enforced retirement."
He finished off his wine, thinking a change of subject was in order. "This is why teaching seems like it would prove an excellent distraction. I need to find the 'Muggle Studies' wing to confirm that it's a good choice. And to watch some form of presentation called 'The Maury Povich Show'. Although I am inclined to not trust suggestions made by a hat, the hat did mention it in conjunction with some matters I wouldn't have expected it to know about."
Reply
It could not be contemplated, not now; best to lay it aside for a more opportune moment, a space of solitude. Octavian let pass the notion unremarked, and gave his attention readily to the introduction of a new topic.
"Muggle Studies? But I know where that classroom and office are located," he said at once. "Shall I take you there?"
Reply
Octavian's offer to take him to the Muggle studies department was an excellent distraction, and he smiled thankfully. Octavian was far better company than any house elf he could order to take him there. "You know where it is? I'd appreciate that very much, Octavian- I confess I'm growing impatient to learn more about it." He wondered briefly if he wasn't quite polite enough in his response- after all, this was Augustus Caesar offering to escort him around a school! "Only if it wouldn't interrupt any of your plans, of course." He hoped this would cover any possible breach of etiquette.
Reply
In his own mind, Octavian was still the young protege of Julius Caesar, not the eminent (indeed, august) personage recorded in the annals of history. He was not yet Augustus Caesar in his own mind -- indeed, he knew of the Augustus name only from his readings in Hogwarts' library; himself, he had been considering the name Romulus, not Augustus at all. He was used to being the junior member of any important gathering, the underestimated whelp of the Julii; and as such, he saw nothing odd about serving as guide to one of his elders.
It might also be noted that Octavian thought of the Baron, by this time, as a sort of foreign potentate.
He gathered up his blanket and whatnot, and tucked them away in the basket the elves had provided for him; the books he carried in a bookbag. Laden with his various accoutrements, he might have looked like a servant himself -- except that as soon as he and the Baron re-entered the castle, Octavian snapped his fingers to summon a house elf at once, and loaded the elf down with the lot of it, imparting curt instructions as to the disposition thereof. This left him unencumbered for the short walk to the Muggle Studies room.
As they walked, he told the Baron what he remembered of the Muggle Studies room. It did not help that the objects in the room were nearly as unfamiliar to Octavian as to a purebred wizard. He remembered televisions from his visit to Muggle Scotland, when Maia had explained all sorts of things to him. Atari systems, not so much. He did know the room contained a model kitchen, though he readily confessed he had not the faintest notion how Muggles worked the appliances -- "they ought to have slaves for that," said the young patrician.
Also, there was a stereo. He had the vaguest notion about those. "They are played by 'deejays'," Octavian related. Thus had his nightclub visit taught him. And because he had to explain that, too, he described the nightclub he had visited: "utterly ghastly, and frequented by the worst sort of people." By the time he had finished denouncing the lowlifes of Glasgow, they had reached the Muggle Studies room.
"This is the place."
Reply
Leave a comment