The day was hot, but not unpleasant as Willow walked down the dirt road. Resisting the urge to burn Pewter and just running, the Brit puffed as she looked up at the cloudless blue sky. Even without burning Tin the ambient sounds of cicadas was almost maddening, and she wondered how the Japanese could stand the constant shrilling; all while being thankful that the only cicada that lived in the UK was endangered, and its only habitat was a good hundred and fifty klicks West of where she grew up. Apparently all cicadas just lived in Japan. Grumbling, she trekked onward down the road, following the remarkably vague directions Mr. Flynn had provided her with.
"This is it," she spoke aloud to the cicadas, her tone one of jocular lament. "I ask to change advisors, and he sends me walking off into the countryside never to be seen again. Eheu!"
Following a dramatic pose that all the cicadas cheered for, an unimpressive feat as cicadas seem to cheer for anything, Willow looked around and paused mid step as she took in her surroundings. She must have been distracted while goofing around because she seemed to be exactly where she had been intending to go. The dirt road at some point had changed into a driveway, and a couple hundred feet up the drive sat a cozy looking farmhouse that looked quintessentially American. The hamster wheel squeaked loudly inside of Willow's head as she thought through the last few minutes or so. A low, ponderous hmmm emanated from Willow's throat as gave up on understanding and simply accepted.
"Well, here goes," Willow stated as she began to walk the rest of the way up the drive towards the house to find Miss Jane Smith.
[The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
A screen door creaked open on the porch, then bounced shut. Out of the door had come American Gunslinger, Jane Smith. In her left was an unlit cigarette, and in her right was a fresh glass of scotch. It had been a good day, and she had opted to celebrate the quiet satisfaction of her menial successes with a drink.
These plans were dashed as soon as she saw the small figure down her drive, just coming alongside the barn. She frowned and set her things down quickly, then descended the porch steps to greet her student.
"Yer awful lost, Miss Fairburn, dorms er that way." She pointed back down the drive with an entirely serious expression.
The professor Smith standing before Willow just then was very different from the one she might have expected. The duster was absent, which wasn't terribly strange. The typical orderliness of her attire, however, was also absent. A plain powder blue button-up had two buttons undone, and a sweat stain formed an ugly, inverted triangle down the front. Her jeans were dirtied from thigh to ankle with lively green highlights at the thighs and knees. A small tear had erupted on her right knee. Her boots looked different, though it was hard to say exactly how with the fresh sheen of dirt and smears of greenery.
Yet, there was something more, and it took Willow a full ten seconds to figure it out. Professor Smith's straight blond hair was down, and nary a ponytail band in sight. Sweat-matted locks draped across her shoulders and stuck to her face, and the ends were curling in rebellion of their current condition.
These plans were dashed as soon as she saw the small figure down her drive, just coming alongside the barn. She frowned and set her things down quickly, then descended the porch steps to greet her student.
"Yer awful lost, Miss Fairburn, dorms er that way." She pointed back down the drive with an entirely serious expression.
The professor Smith standing before Willow just then was very different from the one she might have expected. The duster was absent, which wasn't terribly strange. The typical orderliness of her attire, however, was also absent. A plain powder blue button-up had two buttons undone, and a sweat stain formed an ugly, inverted triangle down the front. Her jeans were dirtied from thigh to ankle with lively green highlights at the thighs and knees. A small tear had erupted on her right knee. Her boots looked different, though it was hard to say exactly how with the fresh sheen of dirt and smears of greenery.
Yet, there was something more, and it took Willow a full ten seconds to figure it out. Professor Smith's straight blond hair was down, and nary a ponytail band in sight. Sweat-matted locks draped across her shoulders and stuck to her face, and the ends were curling in rebellion of their current condition.
Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
Suddenly shy and self-conscious, Willow began to blush lightly and resisted the urge to clutch at a lock of her own blonde hair that rested on her shoulder. Feeling much like she had when she was standing in front of Mr. Caxton’s door, the young Brit fortified her will so as to not appear meek while in the sights of Miss Smith. She ran through what she had planned on saying one more time in her head as she continued her walk up the drive. When she had not been carousing with the cicadas she had been preparing herself for being face to face with Miss Smith. She could do this.
“M’apologies, Ma’am, for interrupting you on your… uh… day off,” Willow called up the drive as Miss Smith drew closer. Dressed simply in an off-white Queen t-shirt that had the left side tucked into her light washed slim fit jeans. Shifting the strap of the messenger bag she wore on her right, she tapped the brim of her white newsie cap.
“That said, with respect, I’m not lost. I was wondering if I could take a bit of your time so’s I can speak with you," keeping her breathing measured, she held a level yet respectable gaze upward towards the American woman as she waited for a response.
“M’apologies, Ma’am, for interrupting you on your… uh… day off,” Willow called up the drive as Miss Smith drew closer. Dressed simply in an off-white Queen t-shirt that had the left side tucked into her light washed slim fit jeans. Shifting the strap of the messenger bag she wore on her right, she tapped the brim of her white newsie cap.
“That said, with respect, I’m not lost. I was wondering if I could take a bit of your time so’s I can speak with you," keeping her breathing measured, she held a level yet respectable gaze upward towards the American woman as she waited for a response.
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
There was one thing about Miss Smith that never seemed to change: her steely blue eyes. They were fixed now on Willow, as if stabbing and dissecting each word that spilled to see if they were really worth her time and effort. Her arms folded as she considered.
"Ye coulda caught me durin office hours." Judging by her tone, it was a criticism, and judging by her body language, it was mild irritation.
She sighed and spoke again before Willow could try to explain herself. "Must be important. Better be, or ye'll be joinin my new class, Gardenin for Gadflies." Gravel ground under her boots as she heel-turned and headed for the porch. "C'mon." She took the three porch steps one at a time, and hooked a left toward a pair of cushioned rocking chairs separated by a round metal table. Her drink and cigarette were still there where she'd left them beside an ashtray and lighter.
Jane settled into the nearest chair, but made no offer. She wanted to test the girl, see what her boundaries where, because "visiting teachers at their homes that were intentionally great distances from the school," clearly wasn't the line. If Willow wanted her time, she would have to wait her turn. Jane took a swig, then stuck the cigarette between her lips and lit it. She stared across her property toward the barn contemplatively and took that first, long draw.
Finally, she looked at the young Brit beside her. "So, what dragged ye all the way out here?"
"Ye coulda caught me durin office hours." Judging by her tone, it was a criticism, and judging by her body language, it was mild irritation.
She sighed and spoke again before Willow could try to explain herself. "Must be important. Better be, or ye'll be joinin my new class, Gardenin for Gadflies." Gravel ground under her boots as she heel-turned and headed for the porch. "C'mon." She took the three porch steps one at a time, and hooked a left toward a pair of cushioned rocking chairs separated by a round metal table. Her drink and cigarette were still there where she'd left them beside an ashtray and lighter.
Jane settled into the nearest chair, but made no offer. She wanted to test the girl, see what her boundaries where, because "visiting teachers at their homes that were intentionally great distances from the school," clearly wasn't the line. If Willow wanted her time, she would have to wait her turn. Jane took a swig, then stuck the cigarette between her lips and lit it. She stared across her property toward the barn contemplatively and took that first, long draw.
Finally, she looked at the young Brit beside her. "So, what dragged ye all the way out here?"
Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
Willow wondered if burning Pewter would help keep her from withering under Jane’s gaze, but just as with the heat and the long walk Willow was determined to do this under her own power. Taking a moment to feel somewhat guilty before following Jane, the teen fell in line behind her; but only up to the steps of the porch. The British didn’t really do porches, and every ounce of her English upbringing told her that she would be entering someone’s home uninvited if she went up those steps. She couldn’t just go waltzing up like it was some corner storefront or Ruarc’s cottage, but she had to wonder where the home started. Could she go up the steps but not onto the landing? Was it the last step? Heavens above, what if it was the first step and she bungled any chance she might have because of an unknown American faux pas? No that couldn’t be it, she figured, it must be the last step.
Following Jane up-so-far-as the final step of the porch, Willow waited patiently for an invitation inside to be given. None arrived as Miss Smith took her seat and settled in with her drink; even from where she stood she could tell it was scotch without needing Tin. While her father typically stuck with American rye, he had more than one bottle of scotch stored in his cabinet back home. Once Jane was seated, Willow was confident she was correct in assuming the second to last step was the proper spot to stand, as it put Willow closer to eye level with Jane. She assumed Americans weren’t keen on visitors kneeling before the head of house, the practice likely becoming gauche after the Revolution; but standing down a step kept the guest from looking down on the host as they sat much the same way a Lord would raise his throne to a higher elevation in his court. Standing confidently upon her step, Willow felt far less self conscious after having discerned American etiquette without any help.
”And people say I can’t be clever,” Willow kept herself from humming.
“Well, Ma’am, I wanted to make a request of you,” she began, the confidence balancing out her nervousness to keep her voice level. “And, I suppose, I wanted the request to carry more weight than a student imposing upon a staff member. Today I am here simply as Willow Fairburn, Miss Smith. May I come?”
Following Jane up-so-far-as the final step of the porch, Willow waited patiently for an invitation inside to be given. None arrived as Miss Smith took her seat and settled in with her drink; even from where she stood she could tell it was scotch without needing Tin. While her father typically stuck with American rye, he had more than one bottle of scotch stored in his cabinet back home. Once Jane was seated, Willow was confident she was correct in assuming the second to last step was the proper spot to stand, as it put Willow closer to eye level with Jane. She assumed Americans weren’t keen on visitors kneeling before the head of house, the practice likely becoming gauche after the Revolution; but standing down a step kept the guest from looking down on the host as they sat much the same way a Lord would raise his throne to a higher elevation in his court. Standing confidently upon her step, Willow felt far less self conscious after having discerned American etiquette without any help.
”And people say I can’t be clever,” Willow kept herself from humming.
“Well, Ma’am, I wanted to make a request of you,” she began, the confidence balancing out her nervousness to keep her voice level. “And, I suppose, I wanted the request to carry more weight than a student imposing upon a staff member. Today I am here simply as Willow Fairburn, Miss Smith. May I come?”
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
Jane smiled and motioned to the empty chair with her free hand. "Sit."
She took another drag. "Now stop bein coy n say what ye came t say. If yer not a rancher, the world will make ye cattle. Blaze yer trail, or ye'll find yerself in the ruts of someone who did." She crossed one leg over the other and began to rock herself gently.
More smoke in, a pause, and more smoke out. Through that drifting haze, her piercing stare felt more like a passive glance; a mild curiosity instead of a harsh study.
She took another drag. "Now stop bein coy n say what ye came t say. If yer not a rancher, the world will make ye cattle. Blaze yer trail, or ye'll find yerself in the ruts of someone who did." She crossed one leg over the other and began to rock herself gently.
More smoke in, a pause, and more smoke out. Through that drifting haze, her piercing stare felt more like a passive glance; a mild curiosity instead of a harsh study.
Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
Willow pursed her lips tightly in an attempt to stymy a smile, but her cheeks turned rosy and her rarely seen dimples betrayed the tightening muscles. Ascending the final step, she bowed her head politely as she entered the space before moving to sit in the rustic chair. What's more, she almost giggled like a school girl at Miss Smith's advice, but managed to keep that restrained. Given that it was both good advice, and thematic to Miss Smith's character, Willow felt spurred into speaking her mind.
"Miss Smith," Willow started, leaning forward and placing her hands on her knees. "I want to ask you to take me on as an apprentice."
"Miss Smith," Willow started, leaning forward and placing her hands on her knees. "I want to ask you to take me on as an apprentice."
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
The gunslinger watched as Willow crossed the porch before her, wondering what was so humorous to the girl. She let it pass, however. No harm in a child finding humor where they could. Her cigarette froze halfway to her lips when Willow finally asked the question. That was unexpected. Smith hadn't devised any notions on the exact nature of the girl's visit, but tutoring certainly hadn't struck her as likely.
The cigarette finally finished its trip and gave Jane time to ponder her approach.
"And what, pray tell, d'ye think that means? Apprenticin under me? I cain't teach ye magic. Anythin ye learn from me'll be as mundane as that there barn." She pointed two fingers like a gun with a smoking barrel toward the barn she had raised with the aid of a few neighbors. "I don ken a wit bout ferromancy, er the first thing bout runes."
That wasn't entirely true. Jane was nearly as good a study as she was a shooter, but she wasn't able to channel any of that knowledge into proper magehood. The greatest works of her existence would always happen around her, but never because she willed it. But that was neither here nor there.
The cigarette finally finished its trip and gave Jane time to ponder her approach.
"And what, pray tell, d'ye think that means? Apprenticin under me? I cain't teach ye magic. Anythin ye learn from me'll be as mundane as that there barn." She pointed two fingers like a gun with a smoking barrel toward the barn she had raised with the aid of a few neighbors. "I don ken a wit bout ferromancy, er the first thing bout runes."
That wasn't entirely true. Jane was nearly as good a study as she was a shooter, but she wasn't able to channel any of that knowledge into proper magehood. The greatest works of her existence would always happen around her, but never because she willed it. But that was neither here nor there.
Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
"I think that's the nice thing about my ability," Willow's tone was slow as she went into the thoughts and concepts she'd been thinking about. "Runes are next to useless for me, and as for my ferromancy I don't think knowing about it is what's needed. Mr. Flynn and Miss Carrie have taught me everything that they know about the matter. I can move metal, I can enhance my body, I can alter what people feel, and I can find stuff and keep from being found. In theory there are a few more metals I could discover, but I imagine they would follow the same pattern. I think the most important thing for me is technique and application. Being able to make intuitive decisions in the heat of the moment."
"I've been pretty proud, up to this point, about applying my mundane talents to my magic, from the stories Mr. Flynn tells about you, and the classes I've taken from you; I just, I just get a feeling that if I learned from you I could go from just being a brawler to being a truly skilled practitioner."
Willow wasn't entirely sure what apprenticing under Jane would even be like, or how she would go about learning; but Jane was able to stand shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Flynn and his other friends with only her guns and a horse. Maybe it would be a Karate Kid situation where helping with farm chores would make her better, or if just being in close proximity to Jane would transfer some of that grit to her. All Willow knew was that she needed to ask, even if the attempt ended in failure.
"I've been pretty proud, up to this point, about applying my mundane talents to my magic, from the stories Mr. Flynn tells about you, and the classes I've taken from you; I just, I just get a feeling that if I learned from you I could go from just being a brawler to being a truly skilled practitioner."
Willow wasn't entirely sure what apprenticing under Jane would even be like, or how she would go about learning; but Jane was able to stand shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Flynn and his other friends with only her guns and a horse. Maybe it would be a Karate Kid situation where helping with farm chores would make her better, or if just being in close proximity to Jane would transfer some of that grit to her. All Willow knew was that she needed to ask, even if the attempt ended in failure.
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [The Farm] Under Advisement, Part 2
Jane could appreciate the sentiment— and she appreciated the girl coming to ask. But she wasn’t entirely convinced. Not yet.
“That’s why I teach Intuitive Scholastics,” she reminded Willow. “And as I recall, yer one o m top students. What’re ye gunnin fer that ain’t in class?”
Jane had some ideas on this, but wasn’t going to give the student free ammo. She needed to know this was more than just a passing fancy or a lost student grasping at straws. If she was going to properly apprentice, it was going to talk a lot more than long walks through the countryside and fireside chats.
“That’s why I teach Intuitive Scholastics,” she reminded Willow. “And as I recall, yer one o m top students. What’re ye gunnin fer that ain’t in class?”
Jane had some ideas on this, but wasn’t going to give the student free ammo. She needed to know this was more than just a passing fancy or a lost student grasping at straws. If she was going to properly apprentice, it was going to talk a lot more than long walks through the countryside and fireside chats.