RP:Veretian Titles

Summary: Brennia stops by the University of Schezerade to help Mister Vinreal clean up when she stops him from throwing out books he should be interested in. Now she’s tasked to translate a few books for the arrogant avian (maybe the boring subject of the books will help her sleep).

University of Schezerade

Vinreal can be found within the main hall of the University humming to himself while stirring a cup of tea and reading through a rather thick book. However, this is not the only thing he's accomplishing at the moment as his true multitasking abilities are clearly shown. All around the room, brooms, mops, dustpans and feather dusters have come to life, seemingly of their own accord. The janitorial instruments are pulled by the call of arcane magic and work to clean the area without so much of a fuss. At the rate this spell caster is going, the University would be spotless in no time. The mage however, is dressed in his half robes bearing his red-runed tattoos for all to see. With a quick lick of his fingers, another page is turned in that giant tome, which he might refer to as light reading.

Brennia finds the school to be left open, like most places of knowledge and she comes bearing gifts with a small group avians mixed with returned bard students. All dressed to do hard work, including Brennia. She has an old dark blue DCBA pullover on which has some dried paint splotched in it and matching sweatpants with her hair thrown up in a haphazard bun. Their footsteps slow when they see… they actually aren’t of much use (at least in the main hall.) Too distracted to see Vinreal lick his finger to turn the page, gross, as solid teal optics glance around at the objects doing the cleaning for him, “hello mister Vinreal,” her gaze finds the man deep in his tome and a warm smile pokes dimples in her cheeks. “I could have used your impressive talent a few weeks ago when I was working on the bard’s college.” A soft raspy giggle is cut short as the team sets down their cleaning supplies and tools, “here we came to help you with the restoration, but I see you’ve got it under control. Was there anything you -do- want help with?” Maybe using his powers like this is draining, don’t we all have our limits? Or he hasn’t gotten to all the rooms and dorms yet?

Vinreal is most definitely a strange man. Stranger still when you compare him to the outgoing Brennia who marches into the hall with her entourage of groupies. For a moment his gaze does not shift from the giant tome - until he finishes his paragraph and marks his page. Deep sea blue eyes shift to look over her attire, taking note of her shirt and then landing on that dimple filled smile. Is she honestly always this happy? Whatever the case may be, his wings are the counter to his emotionless features. Twitching, almost as if in a wag to say hello. Shoot, Vinreal mutters to himself and stands abruptly. His voice calls out his incantation to bind his wings, but that fails. Along with his concentration. The janitorial items previously mentioned stop flitting about and crash lifeless to the floor. “Ah, Mrs. Cadenza.” He's not sure if she's married, last they met she had some Naga fellow following her. “I uh.” He falters for a moment, feeling rather weak with his emotions displayed by unbound wings. With a final huff, he responds. “Yes. Yes I could use the help. I've only just begun here in the common area. Everything else has yet to be cleaned.” His blue eyes shift to the group of people momentarily.

Brennia feels her wings to twitch in reply, but that doesn’t seem unusual to her. He mumbled that incantation again and she becomes distracted by all the falling brooms, her arms sort of flinch at the clattering sound. Her brow knits together in confusion before she looks back to the mage as she kindly corrects, “mrs? No, no,” a soft chuckle and wave of her hand, “just Brennia.” Thedez is in the crowd and mumbles, “or Nia,” which earned an over the shoulder glare from Brennia. When he says he could use the help still, she clasps her hands together and her smile brightens even more as her wings shift with excitement, “perfection! We would love to help.” As if on queue the small group thins out and begins exploring to clean the halls, rooms and canteen. Thedez takes off with them as well and she makes her way over to Vinreal, “what were you reading?” She looks down at the tome and caresses her fingertips over the runes on the leathery cover as if she could get an idea of what the book is about just by touch. “You seemed pretty entranced,” she glanced to his wings a couple times whenever they managed to move, but she doesn’t make a big deal about it.

Vinreal gives a nod in response to her words. “My apologies Brennia.” For thinking you were with a Naga to begin with. Well, that's a load off his mind, but even still he refuses to let his stiff-backed demeanor down. With a wave of his hands those cleaning instruments spring back to life, but when she asks about his giant book, his stoic visage begins to melt. Firstly his wings give an excited flutter, his gaze moves to the Tome and then back to her. “It's a book based on electromagnetism, magnetism in general and even magnetic fields. It tries to explain the science behind such concepts and then even delves into spells and practices. Like an exercise for when a mage like myself wants to get moving. The theoretical, and hypothetical statements contained within offer a rather broad view of a plethora of uses. From bending metal to attracting it.” His gaze shifts to Brennia, is she actually interested in this drivel? Most would have run away. “Magnetism in it's forms has many different uses and it's something I've been studying for years.” For some reason, he is still excited.

Brennia continues to smile, having to tilt her head back in order to look up at him and the way he lights up as he talks. This makes her own wings shift excitedly for him because she loves the passion and spark within a person's soul. She, of course, has no idea what he’s talking about and she won’t even pretend to understand it. Sometimes people look at her all crooked for the way she cares for music and instruments, like pathetically crying over a broken piano, “that sounds intricate. I wish I understood a word of it, but keep up the hard work because this sounds really important.” Withdrawing her touch from the tome, she places both her hands on her wide hips as she says, “let’s get to work, Vinnie.” With a sidestep, she makes her way around him to find something to clean, organize or fix, wings shifting and twitching with positivity, but not realizing she gave him a fitting nickname.

Vinreal had prepared himself, in his heart of hearts, to have a full on theoretical discussion of this rather large tome. It had been ages since anyone had shown interest in his studies, and her miniscule attention to it, was absorbed like a sponge to water. So it's only fair that his shoulders slump, including his wings when she expressed that she doesn't fathom any of it. Shame. He sighs once, trying to gather his wits together for that let down when that God's awful nickname rings in his ears. Vinnie. The childhood memories of bullies that torture him as a child are recalled, but he swallows his pride down. Surely she meant no harm. Once more, he receives his incantation, and this time his wings are bound successfully. There is plenty to be done around here, and -Vinreal- moves to a stack of untranslatable books he had found last night while looking for books on gravity and magnetism. “Yes, I suppose it's time to get back to work. I'm just going to throw these out really quick. They're written in some language that doesn't match any other I've ever seen."

Brennia had been walking passed him, so she didn’t see his disappointment as she mentioned, “feel free to talk more about it as we work, though. I wouldn’t mind learning about it even though I couldn’t use it.” In the distance, some of the bards are humming a harmonious tune as they work and it echoes beautifully in the acoustics of the hall. The man mentions throwing something out and she glances down, easily reading the titles along the spine of these books written in her language. Gently placing a hand on his arm to stop him to ask, “why would you want to throw away books on magnetism away?” Quickly taking the ridiculously large and circular gold rimmed spectacles from the hidden pouch under her wings to rest them on the bridge of her nose. Lifting the top book while citing the title, “Magnificent Magnetics,” out of his pile and her slender nimble fingers flick through the pages, at first speaking fluent Veretian, one would think it was a poem book by how alluring the language sounds. Quickly translating the random page she landed on and reciting in her subtle accent, “both the strength and direction of a magnetic field vary with location. As such, it is described mathematically as a vector field.” A kind smile and chuckle as she looks back up to Vinreal, “whatever that means.” She tucks the book under her arm and points at each book in his arms as she reads the titles, “Electromagnetism Applications, Introduction to Quantum Fields, Louis Levesque: A New Magnetically Charged Theory.” A brow lifts up as she pulls her glasses down the bridge of her nose a little so her teal hues look back to his blue eyes, “how did you get these?”

Vinreal stops dead in his tracks. Her words are music to his ears and not because of the singsong nature of the language she reads. Nay, for instead, the contents contained in that awkward language were exactly what he needed. For a moment, he's in complete shock. Finally he voices his thoughts, “Uh, Brennia… That's.. How do you know this language? There are no records of it in the library.” He's stunned. She knew nothing about magnetism but apparently she was a wiz in translations. His excitement gets the better of him and he plops -all- the books in her arms and begins ‘shoo’ing her. “Do me a favor and translate those. I'll keep the cleaning crew going. Don't worry about us.” He places a hand to her back escorting her along the way. “I really could use your help with those books more than cleaning.” It seems Vinreal wouldn't take no for an answer. Besides, those circles beneath her eyes express just how tired she really is. “Please?”

Brennia glances to the book tucked under her arm, “Vinnie… I told you I’m from and avian nation that is on the other side of the world, Island Vere. You know… those ‘questionable origins’. These are written and published in my native language,” she still looks a little confused and maybe even cross as she has to ask again, “how did you come across these?” Then the books are piled up in her arms and she nearly drops down to the floor with how heavy they are in her weak state, “hey.. wait,” she said trying to protest, but now she’s being shooed out of the university. Of course she was going to help him, he asked so nicely and she sighs heavily, shoving the glasses up the bridge of her nose after balancing the books on her knee in order to do so for just a second. “Okay, Vinnie. I’ll help,” she starts to walk without his continued urgency and sighs as her wings twitch with aggravation since her question went unanswered.