History is Awry

The Fae

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Jul 11, 2015
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Melivere sat at one of the longer tables in the staff's lounge, old tomes and scrolls spread out across the table, a quill in her hand. She was circling one name in particular - it kept showing up. At first this had just been research to learn about the old school healers, and the mages who had been here before she had; but now it was turning into more of a connect-the-dot sort of thing.

She furrowed her brow as she marked yet another name and a tally-mark. She was simply counting to see how many times she saw each name, and when that name stopped showing up she marked the date it stopped. That would usually be when the person had started working here.

She was so lost in her work, she did not even notice when someone entered. It was no matter if someone saw her; this could be her hobby for all anyone knew. She tossed down one piece of parchment to retrieve another and mark a name on there - she had about ten pages worth of names and tally-marks.

Some of the ink from her quill was smeared against her forehead, where she had lifted her hand to wipe her hair from her view. She was quite a mess, but despite it all she still managed to look regal in the victorian era clothing she chose to don.

She glanced toward a book, flipping a page and taking some more notes, muttering to herself, "So that name stops right there.."

@"Jacques"
 

Jacques

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RE: History if Awry

A long sigh of relief left Ruggiero’s lips as he opened the door to the staff lounge. As much as he loved his job, there were only so many questions a man could handle at once, and his last class was full of them. While some of his students’ questions were genuinely interesting, most of them were from the lazy, or the inattentive and either bored him greatly or made him want to go medieval on the person asking it. So, while he had an off period to spare, the well-dressed professor decided a coffee run was in order.

As he entered the room, his initial thoughts of a coffee break were pushed to the back of his mind as something else caught his attention. Sitting at one of the longer tables in the room, one of his colleagues was busy poring over an assortment of old, dusty books and scrolls. Based on her clothing, the teacher was probably form magical arts, probably in the lounge doing research, but when he noticed the amount of notes the lady was taking, Ruggiero instantly became intrigued.

“Researching for some big lecture, are we?” the history teacher inquired as he casually strolled over to the table, taking a seat opposite of his coworker. As tempted as he was to look at what she was reading, he refrained, thinking it wiser to wait for a reply before prying into the stack of books in front of him.
 

The Fae

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The woman hardly glanced up, "If you knew what was best of you, you'd go back to your class, sir." She continued to flip through the book, circling one of the many names that showed up; though this one ended soon after she circled it for the seventh time. She furrowed her brow and mused, "Interesting."

As she became aware the man was sitting right across from her, she slammed the book shut with her notes in it. "But it seems as though you are more interested in the hobbies of others, no?" She was quite rude, but in almost an elegant manner. Her gaze settled onto the man across from her, hands steepled beneath her chin.

"So, what are you? I mean, you're obviously not just a normal human, to be working here." She arched a brow, before standing to give a simple curtsy. "Healing arts. Melivere."
 

Jacques

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Ruggiero raised an eyebrow at the lady's rather rude reception of him. While he was certainly accustomed to the more relaxed standards of conduct in this century, the tone of her voice sounded of pure snobbery. Probably some rich man's daughter... he thought as he formulated an answer.

"I usually contemn company who receives me in such a haughty manner," he said sternly, "But, to give you an answer, I'm a history teacher. Nothing more, nothing less." He stood at that moment and walked over to the coffee machine, before turning around to face his colleague again, "Do you drink coffee, Ms. Melivere?"
 

The Fae

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Melivere snorted lightly. "Please, Melivere is not a last name, do not use it as such." She shook her head, "Nay. Some tea, lavender, if you've got it." Her answers were short, her young face pleasant to look at if not for the scowl she constantly wore.

"Oh! So you're a history professor here? Can you help me, then?" If he was a history teacher he might know about some of these names that kept reoccurring. "I might apologize for being so brash, if you help me," she offered, with a slight smirk.
 

Jacques

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Ruggiero shrugged off Melivere's retort about the usage of her name. Politeness seemed to be a dying art, it seemed. Looking down at the counter, the history professor examined his brewing options.

"I don't teach magic history, unfortunately, so any names you might wish for me to look at would be unknown to me" he said as he idly rifled through the packets with his finger, "I teach European history. One could say I'm so knowledgeable about it that I very well have might lived through it." He chuckled at his own statement, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was very true...
 

The Fae

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"European history never had weddings like James IV and Margaret Tudor, though. It was a lovely, lovely wedding.. so much extravagance in one place. But, ah.. his death was a sad one, very much so, and the boy, the boy was so young..." She mused, absently as she flipped through a scroll.

She pursed her lips when she realized what she had said, before deciding to change the topic onto something else - the man. "So, what is your name, sir?" She tilted her head slightly, "I have not been here too long, a week or two now."

She hoped he would not comment on her earlier statement.
 

Jacques

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Ruggiero raised an eyebrow at Melivere's statement about King James IV as he turned around. Although he had never met them, he had lived in Britain to know that James IV was certainly not a boy when he died.

"I'm sure you mean James V, who died at age thirty? And, I can assure you that there were probably much more extravagant wedding ceremonies than that of Margaret Tudor and James IV of Scotland," he said, merely taking her comment as a expression of an admiration of history. "But, for the matter of my name, you may call me Mr. Episcopo. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
 

The Fae

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"No, no. Not the King, James V was so young when the King died," she stated, hardly glancing up, "See, he had so, so many nurses, so many maids - but it always came back to me.." She pursed her lips slightly, narrowing her gaze onto the man.

"Mr. Episcopo. And you are to call me nothing other than m'lady," she practically sneered - she was starting to dislike this man; but perhaps it was simply the fact she had no last name for him to call her by, and to be told she was going to call him by such irritated her.

"So, why do you prefer the European history?"
 
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