"Oh, here we go," the old woman mumbled to herself. "My spectacles were so smudged I thought, 'Well, old girl, you've finally gone blind'!"

It had taken Nanette Bonnet approximately five whole minutes just to read the tiny script of the golden plaque on the door. She had been checking to make sure it was the right room. Those silly little plaques were so small! A professor had sent in a cleaning request a day prior -- apparently, classroom twelve in the science sector was in desperate need of a good clean. The job had been assigned to Nan, a little old passive who'd been working at Brunnhold for fifty-two years.

The maid pushed some wisps of paper-white hair behind her sagging ear with her free hand. She liked cleaning well enough, she supposed. What she really enjoyed, though, was organizing. Now there was something Nanette Bonnet was good at!

Nanette banged loudly on the door with her bony wrist. Like usual, she didn't bother to wait for a response from inside. Setting down a bucket of foamy soap-water and a mop twice as tall as she was, Nan put her weight into opening the heavy wooden doors. With a laborious creak the expensive door opened to reveal the depressingly empty state of the classroom.

Nan frowned. "Chimes!" she sighed disappointedly.

She'd felt sure that coming to clean in the middle of the day (during the bustling heart of scheduled classes) would let her listen in on the lectures. Apparently there was no class in room twelve during this time today, after all. Nan liked to listen in on lectures. She would make a point of doing her job during scheduled classes -- mostly so that she could feel like she was actually included in something. The old woman would sooner eat a thousand beetcakes than admit she was lonely.

The rain rattled noisily on sill of the picture window. Nanette hauled her mop and bucket into the room. It was certainly a messy classroom. A swipe of her ossified finger over a top shelf came away with a thick wad of dust. Her neat little black lace-up boots left prints in something gooey on the floor. A lump of a greenish substance clung, quivering, to the underside of one of the desks like some enormous sleeping slug.

"This room is filthy!" Nanette exclaimed. "What the clock were the little gollies doing in here?"

The old woman whipped around and stalked rapidly over to the mop. Bending over to snatch up the bucket, Nan's patient body reminded her of its age. A sudden spike of pain tore through her left hipbone as she bent down to retrieve the cleaning supply.

Nanette's howl could be heard across the hall. "Oooh, my hip!"

Angus had not had a role in the dirtying of classroom 12 but it would have been a lie to say he'd never caused havoc in one before. He'd happened to be passing by, gleefully skipping out of a boring lab early, when Nanette shouted. Now, Angus was not a responsible boy. Alioe, no! He liked his whiskey straight, thank you.

Still, he was not the sort of man to leave someone to their own devices when they were in need.

He turned on his heel, running with quick, easy strides back towards Nanette. He didn't see her immediately, he looked at classroom 11 first. It was across the hall, so when he turned around he found the woman he was looking for.

"Um, uh, ma'am!" Angus said, straining for an appropriate title. "Are you alright? Can I help you?"

Angus was aware of the distinction between the help and his own class. It had been taught to him from birth, there was little hope of changing it now. He knew to be respectful to passives, though his respect was paternalistic, yet he was also aware of the great prestige that was given to the elderly. It was hard to combine the two images, when they were fulfilled in a single person. He wondered why she hadn't retired, although he had no idea if or when passives did and where they went afterwards.

The old passive leaned on the edge of a convenient desk. Her callused old hand clung like a limpet to her own hip, as though physical touch could alleviate the throbbing pain of a jostled hip.

She looked up just in time to see a figure stride into the room, posture indicating concern. Nan squinted and tried to make out who it was. He wore green -- a student, then. Why couldn't she see him? Automatically, her bent old body dipped into a laborious bow of greeting. The formality and politesse of the passive's gesture was ruined, however, by the woman's next words:

"C-Clocking hell!" Nanette rumbled venomously, heedless of the fact that such language in front of a student was bad form. It had just occurred to her why she couldn't see the student. Her spectacles had fallen off! They must have slid off of her nose when she bent down to retrieve the mop, setting in motion the unfortunate events of the present. She smoothed her ancient blue dress self-consciously.

"Ah, young sir, if you'd be so kind! My spectacles, my spectacles..." Nanette gesticulated vaguely at the floor where the item was likely to be. In actuality, the spectacles had landed right in the middle of the bucket of soapy water. The old woman had the observational skills of a bat in daylight, though, and indubitably had drawn the conclusion that the floor was the most likely locale for the beloved lenses.

Angus hadn't seen Nanette's glasses fall into the bucket. He had noticed her swearing, mainly because he hadn't heard many passives swear in front of him before. He swore all the time when the professors were out of hearing, so he supposed it was fair, even if it seemed jarring to him. Angus ran the entire length of the room, looking under tables and cabinets, completely unable to find her glasses anywhere.

"I'm sorry, madame but they don't seem to be anywhere..." He said, feeling a bit sheepish for not even being able to help an old passive find her spectacles. "Look, are you alright? Can I do something about your hip?"

Angus wasn't the greatest on living magic but he could definitely cast a simple anesthetic spell, perhaps get the old woman to the infirmary.

(( Hey Nanette, she'd also be able to tell he was a galdor from his field She'd probably feel it before seeing him. ))

Nanette wrung her bony hands together.

"Don't trouble yourself, young sir," she said suddenly, an idea striking her. "They must've fallen into the bucket."

Hiking up her bell sleeves, the old woman sunk her thin arm into the bucket and fished around for a bit, her tongue sticking out in concentration. After a moment of fruitless fishing, Nan pulled out the spectacles in question.

"Ah-ha! And now they're nice and clean," she joked, chortling good-naturedly at Angus. "Many thanks for your concern, young sir!"

And then she executed the proper bow a passive was supposed to show a galdor. The creak of her spine was audible. When she straightened up, she carefully set her spectacles on her nose and peered through them at him.

(( Please, call me Jingles. ))

Angus winced as Nanette's spine creaked. He now had no idea what to do with himself. He wasn't entirely used to servants bowing at him, since he tended to avoid them unless they were serving lunch or something. He was now alone in a room with one, having no further reason to stay.

"Well, you are welcome. You may want to see the infirmary about your hip though." He offered, trying not to rub his neck with his hand. It was a nervous gesture he was fond of. "Good day, madame."

Angus almost bowed. Then he remembered he wasn't supposed to. He didn't know how Harper managed to interact with them all so well. He inclined his head slightly and turned around, heading for the door.

The old woman smiled good-naturedly at Angus.

He was a really nice boy. Not many galdor students would care to stop in and check on an old woman, let alone stay to inquire as to her well being once her status as a passive was discovered. Snapping blue eyes followed Angus' retreating form. Feeling a sudden surge of warmth in her bosom, Nanette hobbled after him.

"Young sir, on your way down the hall, watch out for the throw-rug in front of room six!" The old passive's gratitude manifested itself in an admission of the location of a particularly unfortunate booby trap she'd set up the night before. Nanette didn't want Angus to end up with a pile of honey-and-grits on his uniform!

(( Sorry for the late reply. Do you want to end this particular introduction RP here? I'm sure Nan and Angus will run into each other again. xD ))

(( Ugh, sorry for my late reply too! I meant to send you a pm. This is a cool place to leave things ))

"Thanks!" Angus yelled loudly behind, before remembering where he was.

It occured to Angus that it was rather nice of the old lady to warn him. He hated getting such horrible substances on his shoes. Given his favourite passtime on a week's end was to imbibe vast quantities of a material that helped you produce horrible substances... He knew well this hatred.

He walked swiftly down the hall and was soon gone from sight.