Moving Up in the World
10th of Winter
19th Bell
10th of Winter
19th Bell
It was like a bomb had gone off on the top floor of the Infinity manor. But a bomb with silk shrapnel, in a crater of velvet and a rubble of jewels. Madeira stood in the middle of the chaos in her underwear, fingers massaging away at her temples and the seed of a headache that was tucked away inside. Emma Chamelle sat on the bed, blissfully oblivious to her masters frustration as she tried to summon her projection to pick up a rope of diamonds.
"Too revealing..." Madeira muttered, turning away from the dark blue dress with the pencil-thin plunging neckline laid out on the floor. "Too formal", she said of the tall black velvet and its embroidered stars. The poofy yellow dress was too loud, the green linen too casual, and she couldn't fit into her trousers and blouses anymore. Damnit, now what?
The house was watching this strange dance. It was always watching. But now it chanced to speak.
Why? It asked of the ghost and human alike, the word rising from the walls with a kind of formless, bewildered curiosity.
"Maddy is dressing for class. Isn't that right, Maddy?" Emma piped up, trying and failing to hang the diamonds around her insubstantial throat.
Madeira nodded, not looking up from the floor where her meager options were spread out.
"But this is a special class, and I must look my best", she explained further, snatching the yellow silk off the floor and holding it experimentally to her shoulders in the face of the tall mirror on the wall.
"Ooo, choose that one. You look pretty in that one!"
Madeira laughed as the house also voiced its approval of the outlandish dress. She dropped it to the floor regardless and surveyed her other options.
"It's not about being pretty, you two. Let me explain..." she pulled the green linen off the arm of the low couch and held it to the front of her body, pirouetting so her audience could see. "Imagine you met me on the street wearing this. What would you assume about me?"
"... That you're pretty?" the ghost ventured tentatively. Thankfully the house had a better grasping of the impromptu lesson.
Common, it spoke. Modest, unassuming.
"That's exactly right", she praised the walls and painted ceiling. "There is a tick before a word is ever spoken between two people, where they will take what they see before them and assume things about their character. This is the most important tick of the interaction, for it will decide the tone of everything that follows. Do you understand?"
It took a chime as the two internalized her words. Determined to hear praise as well, Emma was again the first to speak.
"So you want people to think good things about you before you talk to them?"
"Very good, kitten. Yes. I need them to think specific things about me, and its hard to choose what will convey what I want best." She bundled up the linen dress and threw it towards the open and gutted closet. Being labeled as 'common' would be disastrous. "Like I said, this is a special class. I've been teaching novices, fresh new students, most of them teenagers or my age. But I'll be responsible the Tower's most advanced Spiritism class now. They're still weak spiritits by the Craven standard, but they're more powerful people. These will be students who've been studying in the tower for years, and have consumed all Dusk has to offer in their other classes. They will be older than me, have other, more advanced disciplines, and will have been born and raised and been integrated into Lhavit and its magical community while I'm still half a stranger."
WC: 636
"Too revealing..." Madeira muttered, turning away from the dark blue dress with the pencil-thin plunging neckline laid out on the floor. "Too formal", she said of the tall black velvet and its embroidered stars. The poofy yellow dress was too loud, the green linen too casual, and she couldn't fit into her trousers and blouses anymore. Damnit, now what?
The house was watching this strange dance. It was always watching. But now it chanced to speak.
Why? It asked of the ghost and human alike, the word rising from the walls with a kind of formless, bewildered curiosity.
"Maddy is dressing for class. Isn't that right, Maddy?" Emma piped up, trying and failing to hang the diamonds around her insubstantial throat.
Madeira nodded, not looking up from the floor where her meager options were spread out.
"But this is a special class, and I must look my best", she explained further, snatching the yellow silk off the floor and holding it experimentally to her shoulders in the face of the tall mirror on the wall.
"Ooo, choose that one. You look pretty in that one!"
Madeira laughed as the house also voiced its approval of the outlandish dress. She dropped it to the floor regardless and surveyed her other options.
"It's not about being pretty, you two. Let me explain..." she pulled the green linen off the arm of the low couch and held it to the front of her body, pirouetting so her audience could see. "Imagine you met me on the street wearing this. What would you assume about me?"
"... That you're pretty?" the ghost ventured tentatively. Thankfully the house had a better grasping of the impromptu lesson.
Common, it spoke. Modest, unassuming.
"That's exactly right", she praised the walls and painted ceiling. "There is a tick before a word is ever spoken between two people, where they will take what they see before them and assume things about their character. This is the most important tick of the interaction, for it will decide the tone of everything that follows. Do you understand?"
It took a chime as the two internalized her words. Determined to hear praise as well, Emma was again the first to speak.
"So you want people to think good things about you before you talk to them?"
"Very good, kitten. Yes. I need them to think specific things about me, and its hard to choose what will convey what I want best." She bundled up the linen dress and threw it towards the open and gutted closet. Being labeled as 'common' would be disastrous. "Like I said, this is a special class. I've been teaching novices, fresh new students, most of them teenagers or my age. But I'll be responsible the Tower's most advanced Spiritism class now. They're still weak spiritits by the Craven standard, but they're more powerful people. These will be students who've been studying in the tower for years, and have consumed all Dusk has to offer in their other classes. They will be older than me, have other, more advanced disciplines, and will have been born and raised and been integrated into Lhavit and its magical community while I'm still half a stranger."
WC: 636
