Miniwrimo Tag dreizehn
Goal: 100
Words: 667
Probably more, actually because there was some editing here and there and a few phrases and things, but I'm not really counting those. Writing this bit I just now realized that Sray could do a lot of interesting things with her ability. She can heat things up and I imagine in her normal life she probably did it a lot without thinking, but in this situation I think it's trying to balance all of the things going on in her head. I am still parsing out how much concentration she needs to do something simple like warming her roll versus her altercation with Ashtim. Obviously with Ashtim there was a loss of temper in there as well so holding form was secondary to punishing the little jerk.
Kirren was talking as Sray took her seat. “I’m so glad that was the last one for today. One more written test and my fingers are going to fall off!” Kem made sympathetic noises as she bit into her sandwich.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Taysa remarked. “My dad is a secretary for the town council in [town] and I’ve helped transcribe his shorthand notes from meetings because my handwriting is a lot better than his. Talk about fingers cramping up!”
The roll was cold, probably made in the same batch from the morning. Sray wondered if anyone would notice if she heated it up while they were busy comparing how sore their hands were.
“I hope you enjoyed your lunch, now I am going to show you the rest of the building and some of the grounds.”
“So what’s your name?” Kirren asked.
“Jina Phyllat,” she replied.
“Are you related to the crafts teacher?” Kirren asked.
Jina sighed in response, and then said “Yes, he’s my dad, now can you keep your questions to what I’m going to be showing you please?”
Kirren nodded.
The boys had their own guide who took them out the opposite door from the dining hall. They traveled down the wide halls, Jina Phyllat mentioned the classes taught in each block of rooms as they passed them. “And this is the library.” The massive doors were propped wide open, revealing the expansive interior. The library consumed over a third of the building and extended two stories up, with stairs, ladders, and balconies wrapping around shelves upon shelves of books. Sray had never seen anything quite like it.
“They are organized by subject and you are free to research any of your subjects within the library. You can check them out as well through the desk to take back to your dormitories. The alcoves hold older books and some of the subjects are restricted and need special permission to access.”
She gave them a brief walk around the ground floor of the library, weaving through tables and chairs, some occupied, as well as various bookshelves. The boys group passed them, crossing back to where the girls had come from as they exited the far side and headed back towards the dining hall. Jina took them out a side door and showed them the stables, foundry, and insert other useful building for teaching a craft.
There was a sharp rapping on the doorframe that brought Danrick Mishor's eyes up to focus on an obviously agitated Kith Serrith.
"What is it Skwair Serrith?"
"Mind if I close the door, Sir?" He questioned, a hand already on the edge of the door.
"Go ahead." Mishor waved him inside.
Serrith glanced down the hall before pulling the door shut behind him. "I must speak with you sir, it is about one of the students."
"Come and sit then," Mishor invited, removing his glasses and moving his papers to the side.
"No disrespect, but I don't think I can sit, sir. I just- what have you done Hafitch Mishor?” He asked, quickly closing the distance between the door and Mishor’s desk. “Bringing her here, a Clamon amidst the Mime.”
“She is our chance to mend the years of war between Clamon and man. To go about things the right way.” He responded calmly.
“Do you know what the other schools might do?” Serrith started to pace, “Might think?!”
Mishor folded his hands atop the desk. “The Gordieen agrees with me, they can’t stand against that.”
“That is all well and good,” Serrith continued, gesticulating as he spoke, “but mention of the Gordieen is not enough to cause everyone to immediately fall in line. You know that.”
“Yes, but it will at least soften and temper the reaction. The other Hafitches will have time to make their opinions known once the Gordieen sees fit to inform them.”
“He hasn’t told the others yet?” Serrith stopped and stared.
“I’m sure I would have received letters and several visitors by now if he had. No, he’s waiting to see if she makes the first term.”
“Nearly all students make the first term.”
“Yes, but there are those who don’t and we need to be sure she is suitable before it is announced.”
Serrith grimaced and scratched his head before pacing again. "What am I supposed to do? I look at her and I see Clamon. I think of all the things we did wrong and I feel like I should be apologizing half the time and then I remember what the Clamon did and how it affected MY family and I'm angry again, but then I realize if the Mime hadn't done their part none of THAT would have happened." He heaved a heavy sign and finally collapsed in the offered chair.
"You teach her like the rest." Mishor responded.
“You make it sound so simple. And how long do you expect to keep this quiet? Most of her class are probably ignorant, but the second year students and more …” Serrith shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time before one of them has a good look at her face and locks eyes and at that point who knows what will happen? It may be quiet now, and we may try to teach both sides of it here, explaining how the wars started, but that doesn’t stop generations of family history the students get at home. I would not want to be in her shoes when word gets out.”
“Which is why we need to be quietly supportive. My hope is that it will hold until after her induction.”
Serrith eyed his leader skeptically. “You put a lot of hope in people not being observant.”
“She has managed to live among Humans for twelve years in the same town without difficulty, Skwair Serrith. I think she might be able to manage six weeks here.”
“I’ll do my part to try and keep it that way.” Serrith replied, then scratched his head again and shook his head once more. “She is either completely ignorant or very brave coming here.”
“I think we will find that it is the latter, Skwair Serrith.”
With a heavy blow of air Serrith pushed himself out of the chair. “We will find out. Thank you for hearing me, Hafitch Mishor.” The young man bowed slightly to excuse himself.
“Any time, Skwair Serrith.” Mishor nodded. “Please leave the door open as you go, this office has become rather popular it would appear.”
Words: 667
Probably more, actually because there was some editing here and there and a few phrases and things, but I'm not really counting those. Writing this bit I just now realized that Sray could do a lot of interesting things with her ability. She can heat things up and I imagine in her normal life she probably did it a lot without thinking, but in this situation I think it's trying to balance all of the things going on in her head. I am still parsing out how much concentration she needs to do something simple like warming her roll versus her altercation with Ashtim. Obviously with Ashtim there was a loss of temper in there as well so holding form was secondary to punishing the little jerk.
Kirren was talking as Sray took her seat. “I’m so glad that was the last one for today. One more written test and my fingers are going to fall off!” Kem made sympathetic noises as she bit into her sandwich.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Taysa remarked. “My dad is a secretary for the town council in [town] and I’ve helped transcribe his shorthand notes from meetings because my handwriting is a lot better than his. Talk about fingers cramping up!”
The roll was cold, probably made in the same batch from the morning. Sray wondered if anyone would notice if she heated it up while they were busy comparing how sore their hands were.
“I hope you enjoyed your lunch, now I am going to show you the rest of the building and some of the grounds.”
“So what’s your name?” Kirren asked.
“Jina Phyllat,” she replied.
“Are you related to the crafts teacher?” Kirren asked.
Jina sighed in response, and then said “Yes, he’s my dad, now can you keep your questions to what I’m going to be showing you please?”
Kirren nodded.
The boys had their own guide who took them out the opposite door from the dining hall. They traveled down the wide halls, Jina Phyllat mentioned the classes taught in each block of rooms as they passed them. “And this is the library.” The massive doors were propped wide open, revealing the expansive interior. The library consumed over a third of the building and extended two stories up, with stairs, ladders, and balconies wrapping around shelves upon shelves of books. Sray had never seen anything quite like it.
“They are organized by subject and you are free to research any of your subjects within the library. You can check them out as well through the desk to take back to your dormitories. The alcoves hold older books and some of the subjects are restricted and need special permission to access.”
She gave them a brief walk around the ground floor of the library, weaving through tables and chairs, some occupied, as well as various bookshelves. The boys group passed them, crossing back to where the girls had come from as they exited the far side and headed back towards the dining hall. Jina took them out a side door and showed them the stables, foundry, and insert other useful building for teaching a craft.
There was a sharp rapping on the doorframe that brought Danrick Mishor's eyes up to focus on an obviously agitated Kith Serrith.
"What is it Skwair Serrith?"
"Mind if I close the door, Sir?" He questioned, a hand already on the edge of the door.
"Go ahead." Mishor waved him inside.
Serrith glanced down the hall before pulling the door shut behind him. "I must speak with you sir, it is about one of the students."
"Come and sit then," Mishor invited, removing his glasses and moving his papers to the side.
"No disrespect, but I don't think I can sit, sir. I just- what have you done Hafitch Mishor?” He asked, quickly closing the distance between the door and Mishor’s desk. “Bringing her here, a Clamon amidst the Mime.”
“She is our chance to mend the years of war between Clamon and man. To go about things the right way.” He responded calmly.
“Do you know what the other schools might do?” Serrith started to pace, “Might think?!”
Mishor folded his hands atop the desk. “The Gordieen agrees with me, they can’t stand against that.”
“That is all well and good,” Serrith continued, gesticulating as he spoke, “but mention of the Gordieen is not enough to cause everyone to immediately fall in line. You know that.”
“Yes, but it will at least soften and temper the reaction. The other Hafitches will have time to make their opinions known once the Gordieen sees fit to inform them.”
“He hasn’t told the others yet?” Serrith stopped and stared.
“I’m sure I would have received letters and several visitors by now if he had. No, he’s waiting to see if she makes the first term.”
“Nearly all students make the first term.”
“Yes, but there are those who don’t and we need to be sure she is suitable before it is announced.”
Serrith grimaced and scratched his head before pacing again. "What am I supposed to do? I look at her and I see Clamon. I think of all the things we did wrong and I feel like I should be apologizing half the time and then I remember what the Clamon did and how it affected MY family and I'm angry again, but then I realize if the Mime hadn't done their part none of THAT would have happened." He heaved a heavy sign and finally collapsed in the offered chair.
"You teach her like the rest." Mishor responded.
“You make it sound so simple. And how long do you expect to keep this quiet? Most of her class are probably ignorant, but the second year students and more …” Serrith shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time before one of them has a good look at her face and locks eyes and at that point who knows what will happen? It may be quiet now, and we may try to teach both sides of it here, explaining how the wars started, but that doesn’t stop generations of family history the students get at home. I would not want to be in her shoes when word gets out.”
“Which is why we need to be quietly supportive. My hope is that it will hold until after her induction.”
Serrith eyed his leader skeptically. “You put a lot of hope in people not being observant.”
“She has managed to live among Humans for twelve years in the same town without difficulty, Skwair Serrith. I think she might be able to manage six weeks here.”
“I’ll do my part to try and keep it that way.” Serrith replied, then scratched his head again and shook his head once more. “She is either completely ignorant or very brave coming here.”
“I think we will find that it is the latter, Skwair Serrith.”
With a heavy blow of air Serrith pushed himself out of the chair. “We will find out. Thank you for hearing me, Hafitch Mishor.” The young man bowed slightly to excuse himself.
“Any time, Skwair Serrith.” Mishor nodded. “Please leave the door open as you go, this office has become rather popular it would appear.”