rogueinladysclothing | Scholarly meeting [Tagging Viatorus]

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Scholarly meeting [Tagging Viatorus]

On the border of the Parklands and the Commercial District of the Nexus stands a grand library. Its tall, arched entry way and high vaulted ceilings remind one of a church rather than a library. Inside, though, the walls of each of the three floors are stacked high with books, their ranks broken only by the large, stained glass windows. Rows upon rows of bookshelves across the floors offer even more volumes to those who set foot inside the library. A true scholar's delight.

For Amelia, though, the rows of books mean little. Without direction of where to start, it would mean little for her to delve into the complexities of new technologies or the rich histories of the many worlds from which the books come. She'll start in on them, someday, when she knows the best place to begin.

In a small alcove off the main entryway, there stands half a dozen polished wooden tables with matching high backed chairs with plush cushions. It is one of several, all of which have varying decor and furniture, but this one inspires the feel of the European Renaissance. Rich tapestries hang on the walls and a suit of armor holding a tall battle axe stands in the corner. The room makes Amelia feel more at ease, especially when she finds Viatorus Durant sitting at one of the tables with several large volumes spread out in front of him.

Although her entrance would cause no great alarm to him, she stops in the doorway and shuffles her feet noisily. No visible weapons hang from her belt, though the discerning eye would notice the two daggers still laced into her boots. She smiles in Viatorus' direction as she leans against the doorway. "Hard at work?"

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"Anything interesting?" After finishing what she can of the plum, she sets the core aside and focuses on her tea. It's much easier to focus on drinking and eating than it is on figuring him out. He doesn't seem terribly complicated, but there's definitely a few things about him that she can't figure out. His hesitation to tell her anything, for one.

It's a habit that when the plum core is set aside Viatorus eyes it like it might be a demon in disguise. What he's actually making sure is that it doesn't go near any notes or books and make a mess. Paper is sacrosanct. Once sure it isn't going to do any harm, he takes a sip of his tea and looks back to his work.

He scratches his head and rereads the page in front of him quickly. "I've come across a few new approaches to casting certain spells. They might help me with the portals, but I need to read further and do a few more tests."

She wouldn't dare put the plum core anywhere near his papers. She may not be a scholar, but she knows the importance of keeping books and papers clean. It's hard to work on the family's books and ledgers if they're covered in a sticky residue from the remains of a piece of fruit.

"So, still nowhere." Her voice is positively deject as she says that. "Every time I think I might be closer to getting home, I find out I'm not." She sighs puts her feet on the chair she was sitting on, propping up her knees, and then leaning her elbows on her knees. "It's not your fault, but I..." She falters for the words, her head slowly falling until she's looking at the chair below her. Not having the option of going home is hurting her more than she realized.

Viatorus blinks at her repeatedly, fairly bemused by her reaction. The fact that she's longing to get home is rather forgotten in place of the fact that they are doing research and experimental magic.

Slowly, he asks, "You... You haven't done anything like this before, have you? Set a scholar or craftsman a puzzle and waited for them to solve it, I mean."

"I... what?" She looks up slowly, confused by his amusement with her question and her subsequent wallowing. It takes a lot of effort to not lash out at him for it, since her instincts tell her he's not trying to make fun of her.

"Problems like this don't exist in my world. Everything is straight forward. Why would I ever give someone a puzzle like this?" True, there was one puzzle she was working on, but it was on a much larger scale and could easily be solved by interrogating the correct person.

In his defence, Viatorus is more confused than amused. The curt edge to her response ensures he isn't light hearted, however.

"Things like this take time. Progress is progress, and progress is always good. You have to be patient and remember not to get disheartened." Perhaps it's more genuinely said because he's speaking from experience, but he tries to sound encouraging. They're the kind of words that have circulated through his family time and time again so they come easily to him.

"I think I need more distractions if I'm to be patient," she says with a sigh. It's easy to forget about her worries when she's busy with something else. "The reading material will help, but it's only going to get me so far. And it can only take up so much time between jobs."

She grabs herself another piece of bread and a slice of cheese to go with it, motioning for Viatorus to do the same. Her tea is still steeping, possibly forgotten with the conversation going on. "How do normal people stay patient? How do people as detached from a normal life as me possibly keep from going crazy while waiting?" There's a thoughtful look on her face as she eats her way through the bread and cheese.

This would be so much easier if she could simply make friends like normal people.

Reluctantly, he takes a very small piece of bread and practically swallows it whole he's so eager to have his pen to hand again without risking crumbs on his books. He will, however, take more time to drink some tea.

"My normal isn't the standard normal in my world, so I'm not a good person to ask about that," he admits and amends a note. "But maybe it would help if you looked at this a different way. For every closed door there's an open one. Maybe if you looked at this as an opportunity it would help. What would you do if you'd been told, while you were home, that there was a place where anything was possible and worlds met? Where would you go? What would you seek out?"

Edited 2015-09-21 20:34 (UTC)

"Had I known this place existed and how I would end up here, I would have stayed home instead." While she lets that petulant though set in, she removes the strainer from her tea and then downs most of it in one breath.

"My life is my family. I can't protect them from here. I can't do anything from here that affects them. How am I supposed to make sure they're all right when I can't get back to them?" If he were to guess that she's never thought about what she would do for herself, he wouldn't be wrong. When you set a goal as broad and expansive as the one she has, it's impossible to ever fully accomplish it. It's easy to always have a fall back and to never leave options open for yourself.

"No. No, I mean..." He sits back and sighs, taking care to try and phrase things carefully. "If you were at home, right now, safe and sound. If you could go back any time, and you knew your family was safe. If you could just hop in here and hop back out with no time passing at all... What would you do here? Is there something you were looking for? A herb or weapon? Forgotten knowledge? A particular craftsman? What would you make of the opportunity?"

"I wasn't looking for anything," she snaps. "What part of 'my life is my family' don't you understand? My job is simple - get up, run the family business, come home, and then do what I have to at night to keep things exactly the way I like them before I sleep. There's no time for other things. I barely sleep as it is and I would much rather take what little time I have available in the day to spend with them. I don't give a damn about finding new things - what I had in my world was more than enough."

It's really not his fault that she's like this, or that her answer comes across as harshly as it does. She's simply used the vague goal of hers for so long that she can't see past it anymore.

Part of him recognises that it's not fair of her to snap at him like that, but he doesn't want to argue either. Viatorus is not the confrontational type. So he frowns and returns his attention to his books. Safe, safe books. They keep him calm.

She lets out a frustrated sigh when he pulls away, but she doesn't try to stop him. Her mind keeps telling her that it's okay to treat him the same way she treats her brothers or her shop hands at home, even when she knows it's not. Viatorus is not some headstrong kid who needs to be pushed around in order to get him to do what she wants. He's someone who needs space and time to come to terms with things on his own.

He's also too damn curious for his own good. But, perhaps, that's something the people in his world encourage. Unless you're a scholar in her world, there isn't much reason to push beyond the limits of what you already know or what you can learn from the masters of your field.

Slowly, she shifts herself back into her chair and pulls the book she was reading back out. She'll let him have his time cool off - and hope it's enough time for herself as well.

Incantations, rituals, symbols he's not sure he can replicate... All wonderful things to focus on even when he does have other thoughts circling around the back of his head. Irritating him. Eventually, he breaks the silence.

"It's inefficient," he says quietly, letting some of his frustration slip into his words. "The way you're running your life. It's inefficient."

That's... not a word she's heard used to describe her life before.

She looks over at him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "What makes you say that? What about my life is so inefficient?"

He turns his head to give her a strange look. "What isn't?"

Viatorus pauses. He's being sulky and rude. So he takes a second to calm himself and focus. "My... My family has a history of being attacked, murdered, caught in dangerous situations... It's happened plenty of times and over the generations a system was developed. Firstly, everyone knows the dangers of being in my family. We get told who wants to hurt us and why so that we can keep ourselves safe. Secondly, for every child that becomes a scholar, there will be another that becomes their protector. For life. Thirdly, anyone who marries into the family becomes like blood. They become a protector too. Fourthly, the bloodline first, in all things. Knowledge second, but family first."

He frowns at her. "Everyone can rely on everyone. If I go missing it's not just my sister who goes searching for me. It's every extended member of the family. We're not alone. We're never alone. Because if we're alone, we're vulnerable, we're weak, we're poor. If my sister can't protect me anymore, someone else in the family will. It works. It's efficient."

How different his world must be in order for something like that to work. How different it must be to live in a family of scholars and protectors, a family where everyone's role is known shortly after they're born. How different it must be knowing exactly what's expected of you. She envies that feeling, though she would never dare admit it.

"You have the luxury of knowing exactly who you are and what is expected of you, of having known that since birth. As firstborn, I was fairly certain I would inherit the family's business - it's traditional for that to happen. However, my first brother was hot on my heels to have it because he is competitive and with only one business and a total of four children, there is no guarantee of anything becoming yours until it is already yours. I had to prove myself the best while simultaneously helping my father figure out a path for his other children to get what tradition dictates should be mine. I had to help him make their lives better in the light while also working for it in the dark."

There's a shift in her demeanor, away from frustrated and upset to something more stoic. "When I was young, I saw how my family was treated by others. Both those above and below looked on my family with scorn, because we were successful and 'reaching upward' with the advancement of our business. It didn't matter that it wasn't true - rumors begin and they can't be stopped. Then, when my second brother wanted to become a scholar, and my little sister's health often depended on the abilities of the healers we could afford, I made a choice. I would make my family noble, stop the scorn from above, allow my brother to study with the best, get my sister the best care possible. But this was my choice, and so I did it alone. Now, they have that. I gave it to them. They are afforded luxuries they never dreamed possible before, which is exactly what I wanted. But getting them this... it dirtied my hands. I can't be noble with them. And so, above all else, my place in life is to protect them. There are safety nets in place and they have more money than they could ever possibly need because of what I did, but I can't know that they're safe unless I'm there, watching them. I can't ask someone else to do this for me. This is my burden and no one else's."

He's not going to argue with her about how he was raised. The childhood he lived had its own difficulties, but that's not something he much desires to think about. Besides which, it's not a competition and he doesn't want to turn it into one.

"I understand that you think this is the right thing to do. I know that you want to do the noble thing," he tells her earnestly. Trying to do good, to be good, he'd want to do that too. "But I've heard my sister and uncle talk. I've seen the lengths my protectors have gone to. They need each other. This is your burden because you've decided it to be. You should treat them with the respect they deserve and let them make their own choices. Maybe they could only help you by offering you some small supplies, or giving you emotional support. But it would be as much or as little as they wanted. Their choice, their free will."

"They're allowed to choose whatever they want. I only ever helped my father push my brothers in directions they told me they wanted to go. And now they're settled with wonderful, full lives ahead of them. I can't be faulted for finding a way to make their dreams possible." She knows that's not exactly what he meant, but she still feels the need to explain that much.

The rest is much harder to explain. "I'm not trying to protect them just from something they've seen before or understand. Those demons I spoke of? Those people who used them? They're not from my city, not from the world my family knows. I do have help protecting them from those things, from the friends I spoke of before. But I've built this world they live in, made things so much better, easier for them. They shouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. Why is it so wrong of me to want to keep it that way for them?"

Her hands clench into fists as they rest on her knees. This subject... it's not one she likes talking about and her discomfort is obvious. Family is all this woman has in life. It's all she's ever allowed herself to have. Being told she'd made the wrong choice stings much deeper than Viatorus is likely to realize.

Viatorus frowns, his brow twisted in concern, not anything accusatory. "That might seem like protecting them now, and it might work, for now. But sometimes the obvious answer isn't the best one. Knowledge is power and the more they know, the more their choices in life can build on what you've already given them. Isn't the best thing to help them help themselves?"

The idea of keeping important information from people is not one that sits comfortably with him. Still, he knows she means well. He can see that she means well. Her world isn't his, her problems aren't his... He has no right to dictate to her what is 'best', and yet he wants to help.

He sighs and looks away, shaking his head. "Nevermind. I'm... It... I'm overstepping my bounds, I'm sorry. It's your world, your family. You know best."

She's silent for a few minutes, staring down at the clenched fists in her lap. He means well, and she knows it. Perhaps, if things were different, she might have walked a different path, chosen a different one for herself and her family. But as it stands... there's no turning back.

"I get it," she says softly, still not looking up. "But the choice has been made. I can't go back and change it now even if I wanted. I can't get home. I can't tell them anything. I can't 'help them help themselves.' I can't make anymore choices for them or regarding them or anything. I can't... I can't protect them anymore."

Her eyes stay focused on her lap, but... The thoughts, the pain - it's all too much. Tears blur her vision and begin slowly rolling down her cheeks. She wishes she had more control, that she could get herself to stop, that she wasn't so weak. In the end, she covers her face with her hands and leans over her lap more, wishing yet again that all of this was just some terrible nightmare.

"Oh." She's crying. Oh, he feels awkward now. He knows she probably does to, because he would if he were her. He has to help... but he has no idea how to. "Uh..."

He reaches out a hand to pat her arm. It's nervous, uneasy. A trembling hand and light touch. He doesn't do contact well. It's not something he's used to.

"It's alright," he offers in a soft pleading. "It's alright. This is only a temporary set back. We'll get you back soon. They won't even notice you've gone. Trust that it will be alright, that it will all work out, and the universe will make it so. I promise."

She jumps at the contact. It's unexpected, but... it's nice. He might think she's ignoring it when she speaks, but she really is grateful for it.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." It's a saying everyone in her world knows, one she suspects everyone in every world knows. Her hands move away from her face just enough to keep her words from getting blocked by them. "Your research may fail. My world may not want me back. Something terrible could happen and I could be killed before there's any possibility of another try to open a portal. There is no guarantee that it will work even if we do get the portal open. It may go too far back or too far forward. The possibilities for failure are endless." And she has already spent hours going through them all in her head.

"I know you mean well, that you're trying, but I..." She lowers her hands and looks over at him. "I don't have any hope."

"Close your eyes, take a breath and then look around." He offers her a small smile. "Could have ever imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that a place like this existed? A place that defies everything we both know. A place filled with books of people defying the impossible and coming out of the unknown with newfound knowledge and experience."

He lets that sink in for a second before adding, "You don't know the future either. You may trip into your house tomorrow. You may find your family in the middle of the street. Or return to find your family has fended for themselves and thrived, pulling together in your absence."

She'll do as asked, but only because it means she can pretend for a moment that he's not looking at her with concern. It falls right under 'pity' in her list of things she hates other people to feel for her. She's strong enough on her own - no one should have to be strong for her. Her eyes close, she takes a slow, deep breath, lets it out slowly, then opens her eyes. Nothing has changed, but she feels somehow... different about it. Not a lot, but enough.

"I suppose you're right," she concedes. "I've spent so much time dwelling on how things could go wrong that I forgot to wonder what would happen if everything I planned for them went right." A handkerchief is produced from one of her many pouches and used to wipe off her cheeks. There are still tears in her eyes, so she doesn't dare dab at them yet, lest they might start falling, too. "It's hard to remember things like that when you're completely alone, though."

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