Hi, Sansa. I'd love to. Did you read any of them yet?
[ feel free to... make up some additional ones he picked out, as well -- and Reid is just old-fashioned enough that he greets people even when a text conversation starts ]
I started with The Importance of Being Earnest. I really like it. I have never been much of a reader but there isn't much to read in Westeros like this.
Good choice. Oscar Wilde is a fascinating figure. He believed art should be beautiful for its own sake, not because it needs to have any deeper meaning.
It took a long time for publication to be cheap enough that writing could be treated as an art for non-religious purposes.
Most of our books are either produced by the Faith of the Seven or are texts needed by the Citadel for what maesters do. Stories and tales are just told from one person to the other. Writing them down seems smarter. You could remember them easier that way.
Oral tradition was the predominant transmission method for most cultures before printing became cheap. It's true, though. We still have acting troupes if you ever want to see the play performed. It might have to be a recording instead of live, though.
A maester is someone who trains at the Citadel to read and write, to learn old magic and to learn how to treat illness and injury. I've heard people call them doctors here but I don't know that a doctor is the same as a maester.
Lydia starts to pack up some of Spencer's loose ends while he's closing out the class she assists him with, because she likes to give Spencer time after class to talk to any of the students that might approach him with questions, but for them still to be able to leave right when the last student heads out. She always leaves her things for last, and doesn't touch some of his key belongings that he keeps closest to him, but whatever little things she can do to help so that they're not stuck in the lecture hall longer than necessary while the next class files in after, she likes to keep on top of those things.
Today, as she shoulders her bag and watches the last gaggle of girls probably at least a year or two older than her wander out of the room chatting amongst themselves, Lydia looks back at Spencer with a little grin. "So. Spence," she starts, waiting for him to pack up the last of his things so that they can head out, "what are you doing for the Winemaker's Festival?"
Yes, of course she's leading up to something, because if he hasn't already decided upon it himself, Lydia's heard about the Match Making thing and she's absolutely going to suggest it to him. Spencer should get himself out there. He might not know this about himself, but as far as she's concerned, he's kind of a catch and it's a tragedy that he hasn't shared the love with the ladies of Cadelle yet.
Students have quickly learned that once freed from the confines of a lesson plan, Spencer can be asked almost any question and go off on an enthusiastic, informative ramble about the topic, which means it usually takes him an extra full ten minutes to get out of class. Good thing Lydia does all the cleaning up for him. He hadn't been too sure about his success as a professor, despite how blasé he'd been about it before, but with her help, it's gone a lot smoother than he'd expected.
Once he detangles himself from the students, he comes over to gather up his affects and his ever-present messenger bag, pausing briefly at her question.
"Uh... the local approximation of St. Valentine's Day? Nothing." Why would he be doing anything for it? He's both clueless and unsuspecting.
[ He'd been using her first name at her direction, but somehow his being used still makes Reid a tiny bit flustered. He should really start expecting it, in Cadelle. ]
Green? [ Oh right, he's coming over. (Reid, you have an eidetic memory.) ] When do you want me there?
Somehow, in spite of the fact that he has so much potential and he's definitely a catch as far as she's concerned, Spencer still manages to elude the better part of Cadelle, which is that it's a safe space in which people can connect romantically or sexually with one another free of judgement and, from what she can tell, obligation.
Lydia gives a playfully long-suffering sigh and shakes her head. "Spence. You can't do nothing for it," she counters, starting to move toward the door slowly so that he'll follow her. "There's a match-making service. I'm going to do it. You should do it, too," she tells him.
Hell, she's got half a mind to sign him up, anyway, because she thinks he'd really enjoy himself if he let himself loosen up and get to know people. Nobody says that the match maker has to be a romantic date, anyway; he could use it to meet a new person that an algorithm thinks would be a good match for him. He might meet his new best friend, for all he knows, if he gives it a shot. "You can't blow off your first official Cadelle holiday. That's just an affront to the culture of our new temporary home," she points out, but she keeps her tone and expression light so that he knows that she's half-joking.
He eludes them on purpose. He's happy and comfortable in his little academic bubble. If there was something approaching his team here, he'd emerge to go to work, but there isn't, so as far as he's concerned, he's found his niche and if it takes him longer than most to fulfill a wish, oh well. That he'd made friends here at all already has him feeling pretty good.
He has a distinct feeling of déjà vu when she prompts him to take part in a matchmaking service. Reid swears between them, his teammates have encouraged him to loosen up and go out a dozen times a year. His expression crinkles at this old refrain, but he answers with a tone of long-suffering complaint rather than true offense. "It's not my fault I showed up in January. You want me to go on a date? I don't know how to do that!"
[ Oh, that's... effusive. Spencer is just not used to people that aren't long-time, old friends of his being actually excited about seeing him. Suddenly he feels like he should make sure he doesn't look like he rolled out of bed when he shows up, which is a weird feeling.
Good thing FBI nerd chic is appropriate for all occasions, because that's pretty much his whole wardrobe these days. ]
Got it. I can do that. Should I bring anything? I don't visit people very often.
Lydia gives an intentionally exaggerated roll of her eyes and shakes her head. "Nobody said you have to go on a date. It's just supposed to match you for a meet up. If you want it to just be hanging out, then let it be hanging out," she points out. "Come on, don't make me do this all by myself, Spence," she pouts, changing tack.
They're friends and growing closer, but she's not sure that tactic will actually work on him. It's worth trying, though, isn't it? If it'll get him to go out and meet people? "You're so much fun to be around and I feel really bad hogging you," she adds, although that is entirely honest and sincere, even if it does happen to be another weapon in this particular arsenal.
Together they head down a hall and toward the door that will lead outside. "It'll be fun, I promise. If you don't have fun, I'll never push you do to anything else like this ever again, how's that for a guarantee?" Lydia asks, lifting her eyebrows as she looks up at him.
Reid shows up quite promptly, with his hair slightly less of a tousled mess than normal, the only sign of effort visible. When the door opens, he lifts his hand to wave in his characteristic greeting. ]
( Sansa, ever the gracious hostess, is more than happy to have him and has laid out tea and little lemon flavored scones. She doesn't know if tea is a common thing where he's from but she wants to do her best. )
I brewed the green for you, Spencer, but if it's not to your liking I can find something else. I'm just glad you came over.
[ Reid's had more tea here than he has in a month back home, but that has more to do with his coffee addiction, and his lack of visiting people, than anything else. He strides over to his seat, notably without his cane and moving easily this time, as if he'd never been injured. ]
No, no, I'm sure it's fine. I'm not that picky. Honestly, I don't usually have time to do all this socializing. It's kind of nice.
[ He looks vaguely surprised, the interested, looking over at them again and reaching out for one. ]
Doing things for yourself can be satisfying. It must be pretty different to live alone? [ Reid can recall historical depictions of medieval life for nobility, and it wasn't anything like a one bedroom apartment. ]
This is all a lot to take at once. Reid is a bit of a skittish animal about making friends, let alone having a love life, and he stops short in the hall and raises his hands palm-out in the universal defensive gesture.
"Whoa, okay. You're not hogging me, I'm perfectly happy the way things are." He sounds openly skeptical and even a little disgruntled to be pressured out of his comfort zone. It's true; Spencer hadn't thought he'd make such a good friend, definitely this fast, the way he has with Lydia to start with. He thinks things are moving plenty quickly. "Why are you so invested in this? Don't try to tell me you need the support. You have more than adequate interpersonal confidence."
What does it matter to her if he's a shut-in or out dating people? It's not like he doesn't socialize. He just talked to his students for seventeen minutes!
Two perfectly manicured eyebrows lift with incredulity as the redhead looks back at Spencer when he says that she's not hogging him. "I am one hundred percent hogging you and I should be sharing my friend a little more, because he's kind of awesome," she replies, her expression softening into a smile.
He's right, though; Lydia hardly needs the moral support, because she's confident enough to feel like she's going to nail it no matter who she gets paired up with, but she still thinks it'd be more fun if they were both doing it.
"I have plenty of confidence, you're right. But I still think it would be more fun to do this if I knew that one of my best friends in this place was doing it, too. We can compare notes after. Come on, seriously, I promise it'll be fun, Spencer..." she pouts playfully, giving him her best set of big, round puppy eyes.
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text | UN: ladyofwinterfell
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[ feel free to... make up some additional ones he picked out, as well -- and Reid is just old-fashioned enough that he greets people even when a text conversation starts ]
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I really like it. I have never been much of a reader but there isn't much to read in Westeros like this.
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It took a long time for publication to be cheap enough that writing could be treated as an art for non-religious purposes.
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You could remember them easier that way.
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Oral tradition was the predominant transmission method for most cultures before printing became cheap. It's true, though. We still have acting troupes if you ever want to see the play performed. It might have to be a recording instead of live, though.
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in-person
Today, as she shoulders her bag and watches the last gaggle of girls probably at least a year or two older than her wander out of the room chatting amongst themselves, Lydia looks back at Spencer with a little grin. "So. Spence," she starts, waiting for him to pack up the last of his things so that they can head out, "what are you doing for the Winemaker's Festival?"
Yes, of course she's leading up to something, because if he hasn't already decided upon it himself, Lydia's heard about the Match Making thing and she's absolutely going to suggest it to him. Spencer should get himself out there. He might not know this about himself, but as far as she's concerned, he's kind of a catch and it's a tragedy that he hasn't shared the love with the ladies of Cadelle yet.
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Once he detangles himself from the students, he comes over to gather up his affects and his ever-present messenger bag, pausing briefly at her question.
"Uh... the local approximation of St. Valentine's Day? Nothing." Why would he be doing anything for it? He's both clueless and unsuspecting.
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I didn't think there was.
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Green? [ Oh right, he's coming over. (Reid, you have an eidetic memory.) ] When do you want me there?
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Lydia gives a playfully long-suffering sigh and shakes her head. "Spence. You can't do nothing for it," she counters, starting to move toward the door slowly so that he'll follow her. "There's a match-making service. I'm going to do it. You should do it, too," she tells him.
Hell, she's got half a mind to sign him up, anyway, because she thinks he'd really enjoy himself if he let himself loosen up and get to know people. Nobody says that the match maker has to be a romantic date, anyway; he could use it to meet a new person that an algorithm thinks would be a good match for him. He might meet his new best friend, for all he knows, if he gives it a shot. "You can't blow off your first official Cadelle holiday. That's just an affront to the culture of our new temporary home," she points out, but she keeps her tone and expression light so that he knows that she's half-joking.
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He has a distinct feeling of déjà vu when she prompts him to take part in a matchmaking service. Reid swears between them, his teammates have encouraged him to loosen up and go out a dozen times a year. His expression crinkles at this old refrain, but he answers with a tone of long-suffering complaint rather than true offense. "It's not my fault I showed up in January. You want me to go on a date? I don't know how to do that!"
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Good thing FBI nerd chic is appropriate for all occasions, because that's pretty much his whole wardrobe these days. ]
Got it. I can do that. Should I bring anything? I don't visit people very often.
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They're friends and growing closer, but she's not sure that tactic will actually work on him. It's worth trying, though, isn't it? If it'll get him to go out and meet people? "You're so much fun to be around and I feel really bad hogging you," she adds, although that is entirely honest and sincere, even if it does happen to be another weapon in this particular arsenal.
Together they head down a hall and toward the door that will lead outside. "It'll be fun, I promise. If you don't have fun, I'll never push you do to anything else like this ever again, how's that for a guarantee?" Lydia asks, lifting her eyebrows as she looks up at him.
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[ Yeah, he's totally smooth. Right.
Reid shows up quite promptly, with his hair slightly less of a tousled mess than normal, the only sign of effort visible. When the door opens, he lifts his hand to wave in his characteristic greeting. ]
Hi. Thanks for having me.
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I brewed the green for you, Spencer, but if it's not to your liking I can find something else. I'm just glad you came over.
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No, no, I'm sure it's fine. I'm not that picky. Honestly, I don't usually have time to do all this socializing. It's kind of nice.
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Well, you are always welcome to come to tea with me. The scones are lemon, if you want to try one. I’ve been learning to bake.
( Sansa laughs a bit at the idea of it - she’d never done that at home. )
My lady mother would be appalled to learn I was without servants but I sort of like the freedom.
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[ He looks vaguely surprised, the interested, looking over at them again and reaching out for one. ]
Doing things for yourself can be satisfying. It must be pretty different to live alone? [ Reid can recall historical depictions of medieval life for nobility, and it wasn't anything like a one bedroom apartment. ]
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( Sansa pours them both tea but pauses before putting anything additional into Reid's. )
Do you take it plain or with sugar?
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"Whoa, okay. You're not hogging me, I'm perfectly happy the way things are." He sounds openly skeptical and even a little disgruntled to be pressured out of his comfort zone. It's true; Spencer hadn't thought he'd make such a good friend, definitely this fast, the way he has with Lydia to start with. He thinks things are moving plenty quickly. "Why are you so invested in this? Don't try to tell me you need the support. You have more than adequate interpersonal confidence."
What does it matter to her if he's a shut-in or out dating people? It's not like he doesn't socialize. He just talked to his students for seventeen minutes!
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He's right, though; Lydia hardly needs the moral support, because she's confident enough to feel like she's going to nail it no matter who she gets paired up with, but she still thinks it'd be more fun if they were both doing it.
"I have plenty of confidence, you're right. But I still think it would be more fun to do this if I knew that one of my best friends in this place was doing it, too. We can compare notes after. Come on, seriously, I promise it'll be fun, Spencer..." she pouts playfully, giving him her best set of big, round puppy eyes.