Wild Roses fic prompt 088 "School"
Title: what mean streak?
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Madeleine Maeve Sabaey
Prompt: 088 "School"
Word Count: 192
Rating: G (unless you have a fantastic textural imagination, in which case PG)
Notes: Well before the wars (including Rosenthal)-she’s less than a hundred in this.
ETA: the school system she's in is not that of the wider culture she is part of as an adult, I should add. >.>
"May I present a counterpoint to that last comment?" the young redheaded student under consideration asked, tone mild and face calm.
Which should have been a warning, considering that the last comment had been a challenge that she did not have a firm grasp of the fundamentals of logos. Her committee did not consider this, and allowed her counterpoint.
She spoke eight crisply inflected accented words, eyes fixed firmly on the aging professor who'd challenged her. Everyone blinked at her, one professora murmuring "karabos?" half under her breath, then the professor chuckled, and began to say something.
The two professors on either side of him flinched away as his words took flight.
The beetles were. . . colourful, carapaces as metallic as the scones holding the magelights around the room, and when one alighted on the professora's desk, the folded carapace revealed a word written black across its golden back.
She looked over her reading glasses at her fellows, most especially at the horrified professor who was engaged in spitting legs into his handkerchief, having not finished his sentence, then murmured that this was certainly an adequate grasp of the fundamentals of word-magic.
logos: greek for word or words, according to some old notes from a science-and-religion class. Please correct me if this is inaccurate.
karabos: greek for beetle, according to google. Please correct me if this is inaccurate.
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Madeleine Maeve Sabaey
Prompt: 088 "School"
Word Count: 192
Rating: G (unless you have a fantastic textural imagination, in which case PG)
Notes: Well before the wars (including Rosenthal)-she’s less than a hundred in this.
ETA: the school system she's in is not that of the wider culture she is part of as an adult, I should add. >.>
"May I present a counterpoint to that last comment?" the young redheaded student under consideration asked, tone mild and face calm.
Which should have been a warning, considering that the last comment had been a challenge that she did not have a firm grasp of the fundamentals of logos. Her committee did not consider this, and allowed her counterpoint.
She spoke eight crisply inflected accented words, eyes fixed firmly on the aging professor who'd challenged her. Everyone blinked at her, one professora murmuring "karabos?" half under her breath, then the professor chuckled, and began to say something.
The two professors on either side of him flinched away as his words took flight.
The beetles were. . . colourful, carapaces as metallic as the scones holding the magelights around the room, and when one alighted on the professora's desk, the folded carapace revealed a word written black across its golden back.
She looked over her reading glasses at her fellows, most especially at the horrified professor who was engaged in spitting legs into his handkerchief, having not finished his sentence, then murmured that this was certainly an adequate grasp of the fundamentals of word-magic.
logos: greek for word or words, according to some old notes from a science-and-religion class. Please correct me if this is inaccurate.
karabos: greek for beetle, according to google. Please correct me if this is inaccurate.