Rumor. Hearsay. It's all down to gossip.

Until recently, Abe ignored all rumors, considering them to have too many steps between the truth and herself to have any veracity to them whatsoever.

How wrong I have been!

The ghosts proved that very clearly, in a way she could never dismiss. And if one rumor had a basis in fact, couldn't others?

The rumors surrounding Professor Moore's research varied wildly, some being quite dark indeed. The galdori rarely mentioned it, but the passive nurses sometimes did. They would sit together during a quiet moment at the infirmary, whispering amongst themselves. Of late, Abe made it a habit to eavesdrop on them while pretending to read. What snippets she picked up did not sound good.

And none of them seemed to match what she knew of the professor. He seemed like such a gentle, harmless man. Why would he violate ethics one minute, and selflessly care for a passive's child the next? It simply did not add up. For the servants' sake, she had to know the truth. And the only way to know it was to see it herself.

This is where Horation came in. He was at the center of her plan. His two-week birthday was today, and he needed a check-up. He, innocent babe, was her excuse for seeing Moore. By establishing a shared interest in the infant, perhaps she could gain the professor's trust. Then, she could broach the subject of his research, and attempt to secure a position as a medical observer for the experiments. She desperately hoped her expertise would not be needed.


The scheme still fluttered in her mind as Abe entered the Parford Wing. Like with any performance, a million things could go wrong. She donned her stethoscope (her badge of office) around her neck, and made her way to the professor's door. She slowed considerably as she got closer, coming to a complete stop over a yard from her goal. Her jittery hand cupped over her mouth.

What if this doesn't work? Or worse, what if he really is-- dear gods! What then?

Triston was franticaly waving her apron up and down as she walked, a large wet spot serving as her motivation. She looked very tired.

Horation had managed to stain every article of clothing Triston had, and each little hiccup or burp was enough to send her running in fear of the baby's arsenal of bodily fluids. The apron had been stuck under a faucet as soon as she got a chance, but it was too late, and a sickly green color now replaced the white it once was.

Triston stopped when she reached Professor Moore's door, spotted Abeline, and almost coughed up a lung in surprise and embarrassment. Pausing for a moment, she contemplated what course of action to take. On one hand, a servant does not speak unless spoken to, on the other, the women was, more then likely, there to see the baby. Better to ask then assume...I think.

" A-are you here to see Horation?" Triston asked nervously, gesturing both to the office and to the healer's stethoscope.

Something white flashed in the corner of Abe's eye. Hand still over her mouth, she turned to be greeted by the sight of a servant girl.. a servant girl heading directly for her. She contemplated the merits of a hasty retreat, eyes roving erratically in their sockets. Just before her panic reached the level she needed to flee, Abe noticed the stains on the girl's clothing.

Green?

She released a shallow breath. With those kinds of stains, the servant had to be a nursemaid for Horation. Yet another thing nobody told her about. How far out of the loop could she possibly get?

Abe nodded to Triston, but the girl didn't seem to be paying attention. She was about to speak when Triston startled at her presence. Taking a small step back, Abe waited for the girl to regain her senses.



Internally, Abe smirked at Triston's gesture. The stethoscope worked. Under the right circumstances, she mused, this thing could get me into the Queen's bedroom. Externally, her expression drifted from surprise to a gentle sort of thoughtfulness.

"Erm. Yes, I am," she said softly. The healer gestured to Triston's apron. "Are you caring for him? If he's spitting up often, he may be getting fed too much at a time. Try smaller amounts." Her tone was not chiding, as it might be from other galdori, but genuinely helpful.

Horation was also Abe's excuse for reading up on the conditions of infants. Her pediatric experience was dismally lacking in the ten-and-younger age group, a fact which irked her. Any gap in her education did.

" Well, yes I'm one of his caretakers." Triston said, still feeling a little guarded when talking about Horation. It just didn't seem safe to speak about it in the open, not with so many rumors going around. Opening the door, Triston waited for Abeline to go inside before she would follow.

The office, although a little neater then usual, was still Moore's, and thus still upheld the notion that something caught fire every other day or so.

"Ah, good. Another one of you. Have you met Master Vespasian? A baby cannot have too many caretakers, I think. Although.. what Horation really needs is a stable household." The healer sighed, defeat painting thin lines on her brow. Scheming aside, she truly felt concerned for Horation's future.

She also felt, perhaps irrationally, responsible for the child's predicament. She did not save his mother. Even if she had been there, though she might have been able to do something without magic, her untimely migraine would have prevented her from being any help. She knew she was probably not at fault, at least as far as logic was concerned, but the feeling of guilt had not abated.

Additionally, as her own mother died in childbirth, Abeline projected onto Horation a certain kinship -- not one of blood, but of similar circumstance. All considered, she cared for the baby more than she thought befitting a professional. Thus, she had not told anyone.


When Triston opened the door, Abe stepped up to the threshold, but did not enter. Though she had taken both of Professor Moore's classes, performed reasonably well in them*, and respected the man immensely, she was still somewhat afraid of authority figures. She couldn't enter his domain without his permission.

"Professor? Are you in?" She tapped at the already-open door with a polite little knock.


*By her estimation, at least. In actually, she was meticulous in Experimental and quite lucid in Advanced Theory. Her paper on living magic theory not only eloquently demonstrated her knowledge, but went so far as to tentatively suggest a connection which, as of 2712, still had yet to be tested. In essence, she asked questions to which no one knew the answers.

"Just a moment," came a spare and highly distracted voice from under the desk, which was piled so high with papers that the two women could only barely see the top of Professor Moore's head poking out. Horation was dozing in his rocker as usual, making tiny, wet baby noises as he snored.

Harper stood and brushed himself off with one hand; in the other he held what looked like a glass urn.

"One usually knocks before entering," he said, before looking up. "Oh, Triston, it's you. I didn't expect you back so quickly. Thought you might be a student...and hello, madam, how can I help you?"

It was unusual for a galdor to address a servant first - very unusual - but Harper seemed to think nothing of it. He smiled politely at Abeline, holding up the urn in some sort of greeting.

" Oh, yes I have. We both happened to offer our assistance to Professor Moore at the same time." She inwardly smirked when remembering the state in which Moore had been, and the slippers.



Triston paused for a moment, not sure how to respond to such a truth. It was quite obvious that Horation needed a family, but none of the families wanted him. Adoption was hardly common, even for infants. She was relieved that Professor Moore spoke before she needed to answer.



Why does he always mistake me for a student? Why cant it be something more interesting, like a...

Well, theres not much he can mistake me for, but Im sure if he put some effort into it.

She didn't actively notice it, but something in the back of Triston's mind told her the order of his speech was wrong, that one part should have been in front of the other.

The feeling promptly ingrained itself into her head's subconscious folder of " Professor Moore's strange habits, odd actions, funny clothing, and ugly furniture"

It was a very crowded folder.

The fortress of papers barricading Professor Moore gave Abe pause. Exams already? He must be very busy, she thought, her courage faltering. Not wanting to inconvenience the man, she considered giving up. But she was not doing this for herself. If the rumors are true, he is not the one being most inconvenienced. The greatest good, and all that..

The woman began fiddling with her stethoscope when the professor stood. The urn in his hand caught her attention, and she spent the next few whiles trying to identify it. Growing frustrated by her own ignorance, she almost didn't notice Moore's faux pas.

... and it's obviously not an alembic -- wait, did he just greet the servant before me? Strange. While not offended, Abe did wonder if the slip meant something. Exactly what it meant remained to be seen. She cleared her throat.

"Actually, I'm here for Horation. Er, his check up, that is. He is twenty days old today." The healer weaved past an errant stack of papers to get to the cradle. "Nobody else at the infirmary seemed to be keeping track, so I thought I'd--" On seeing the slumbering infant, she smiled warmly and whispered, "Ah, he's sleeping."

Abe turned back to the professor, keeping her voice down. "I don't really need to you do anything, though I may have to ask a few questions of your.. uh.." What is her title, anyway? A wave of her hand indicated who she meant, "...your Triston."

While looking at said Triston, the woman seemed to remember something. "Oh, right. I should tell you I am from the infirmary, shouldn't I?" She chuckled nervously, avoiding eye-contact. "I'm Healer Ixbridge."

Triston thought she might collapse from laughter at the way her name was suddenly a title, but exerted enough will to barely smirk. She wasn't usually so reserved when she was around professor Moore, but a healer, one who Triston had never even met, was enough to keep her on the usual edge.



Triston nodded in a " That's kinda obvious." way, avoiding eye contact as eagerly as Abeline did. She glanced at Moore once or twice, but generally kept her sight rested softly on Horation's sleeping form, trying to think of what kind of questions the healer might ask. Nothing besides the spit up seemed abnormal, but Abeline had already explained why it was happening.

" Is there anything specific you need to know right now?"

She hadn't even said a word of greeting to the professor, as caught up in the baby business as she was. Not that it was too important since Triston had only been gone for a few minutes, but normally she was quick with a reply, and the lack of any hardy hello might have betrayed her nervousness.

Professor Moore seemed a little miffed at being excluded from Horation's affairs. Though it was surely a twisted, misguided feeling, he couldn't help but feel attached to the small child, saddled as he had been with the death of a mother and a cumbersome first name before he'd cut his first tooth.

"Triston is not mine, Hr. Ixbridge," he said politely, though it was clear he was indignant at the implication. "She is helping me with some of my work, and if there's anything at all wrong with the child, you must blame me entirely." He shot a nervous glance at the baby rocker, mentally pleading with Horation to not suddenly come down with a case of scurvy. "But there's nothing wrong," he added.

At least he seems to care about Horation. Obviously. If he didn't, the baby wouldn't be here in his office. Which begs the question; where would he be? The thought left Abe feeling rather bleak and powerless. Living in the dorm with barely any money, she could do very little for him.



The healer blinked rapidly, momentarily confused. "I didn't mean to imply..." Realization dawned on her. "I'm sorry. I have more than my fair share of eccentricities, and that's one of the smaller ones. I sometimes call a person someone else's without any form of possession intended. Why, just the other day, I called Miss Theraldon Theo's Theraldon. Silly of me, I know." She flushed, helplessly awkward. Generally, calling oneself silly does not work towards establishing credibility.



His work? As in, his research? Her eyes glimmered with curiosity, but she resisted the temptation to ask. Nono. He doesn't like me yet. What am I thinking? He never will. I'll be lucky if he tolerates me.



Grabbing a tape measure and a notebook from her bag, Abe said, "That remains to be seen, but I'm fairly positive you are correct. You've been taking good care of him so far, sir. And madam." She nodded curtly to Triston, unsure if by referring to the girl as a 'madam' she had broken her code of not being uncomfortably polite to passives. She shook the thought from her head, clearing it to focus on the task at hand.

The healer unfurled some of the tape measure, hovering it lengthwise some distance above the baby. She didn't want to disturb the poor creature. "Hmm. I suppose I do have a question for you. Either of you. How long has he been asleep? I will need to wake him, unfortunately."

"Two point six hours," said Professor Moore with his usual accuracy. He recognized in Abeline a person very nearly as socially awkward as himself, and realized she probably hadn't meant anything by her phrasing. "He will sleep for another fifty minutes before waking and demanding his bottle. It is heating in the lab right now. He's a very punctual child."

He eyed the tape measure.

"I assure you, he isn't any shorter than last week," he said, a little helplessly. What on Vita did it matter how long or fat a baby was? Harper was not well versed in childcare; to be fair, he only knew a very little bit about adults, but he didn't want to give Horation a height complex before he could even walk.

Triston was elated that he would defend her from the assumption that she was property, but couldn't help feeling bad for Hr. Ixbridge when the wording was explained. It wasn't an implication at all, just bad communication skills. I'm sure that's something Professor Moore can relate too.



She felt a little uncomfortable being called madam, but didn't say anything. If she wants to be weird, let her.

Instead of fretting over titles, Triston tried not to object when Abeline mentioned waking the baby. Moore was right, Horation was quite punctual, and the idea of upsetting his sleep schedule didn't sit well with her, mostly because she would be the one stuck with a cranky baby later. Triston stared at the tape measure angrily, as if it were the cause of her impending doom.



Ripping her eyes away, she looked at professor Moore with a somewhat humored expression " I think it might be to tell how much he's grown." Triston said, wondering if Harper had even read up on infants before deciding he could take care of one. Unless there's a disease that can shrink babys.

(( Carto, the proper term would be " What on vita " Right? ))

Abe delicately lowered the tape closer to the baby, getting as close as possible without touching him. She leaned forward and peered at the numbers with one eye closed.



"Precisely." The healer attempted to fight back the urge to jest, and failed. "You see, Professor, growing is something children do. Babies cannot become adult-sized in an instant. Lest they violate the laws of physics, they must occupy the intervening space. It is a slow and complicated chemical process that takes many years." Her tone was that of an informative lecture, but in her eyes danced a playful spark.

"Provided he is fed and cared for, he should grow to be a healthy young gentleman of perfectly reasonable height," she added, trying to reassure the man.

Abe spent a moment trying to picture Horation at age twenty, and got a good deal of nothing. Her brain had insufficient information to predict his appearance, largely because of the uncertainty surrounding his upbringing. Dwelling on the question of his future, but unable to voice it, she had to content herself with a tight-throated sigh.

Professor Moore stared at Hr. Ixbridge as she was explaining the particulars of galdori anatomical development, wondering if she were pulling his leg. After a moment, he blinked hard.

"Oh, yes, of course, silly me," he said, unfortunately repeating her mistake of describing oneself as silly. "I must beg your forgiveness. Examinations must go out before the break at the end of the month. It's taking up quite a large slice of my brain, as you can imagine."

He backpedaled. "Er, that is, not too much. I have priorities. You know, the baby. That one." He pointed at Horation. "He's receiving the undivided attention of the remainder of my brain. Could you perhaps...measure him quietly?"

Flashing Abeline a winning, vaguely apologetic smile, he motioned to Triston to come to his desk. His hand was poised over something that looked like a calendar.




((hehe, thanks Triston, missed that one))

Triston walked over to Harper's desk carefully, doing her best not to topple any of the odd collections of paper and books scattered about. She reached it without incident, and couldn't help feeling proud of herself for that small accomplishment. It wasn't often she was capable of avoiding a tiny avalanche of exams or notes. I must be getting used to this mess. I guess it is starting to grow on me... Just a little.

" Yes? " Triston asked, sounding distracted as she contemplated her victory over the disorderly office.

The bespectacled Abe returned Moore's smile with a small, feeble one of her own. "I shall endeavor to disturb neither you nor him." She bit her lower lip, glancing away. "For as long as I can. I'm afraid I can't test his vision and hearing while he's asleep."

As if to apologize, she resumed her focus on measuring, politely allowing the professor and Triston the privacy to converse. Well, the illusion of privacy. It was a small room, after all; how could she possibly be blamed for overhearing something?

How he treats this young lady may reflect how he treats his volunteers.. although, so far, he seems to be rather sweet.. With a preoccupied "hmmm," she set about the dual tasks of pediatry and eavesdropping.

After squinting her way to a close-to-exact reading of Horation's height, she wrote her findings in the notebook, pinky finger extended. Several similar entries existed, each dated, from the 5th of Bethas to the 24th.

The next measurement, the circumference of his head, would prove a challenge. She truly did want to let the infant sleep, but she could stall no longer. Cautiously, the healer propped his head up with a blanket. Patients often complained that her hands were cold, so she was very careful to avoid touching him directly.

She took up the tape measure again -- luckily, it was a soft cloth one -- and painstakingly gently wrapped it about the baby's head. Biting her lip, Abe braced herself, fully expecting him to begin wailing at any second.

"Triston, I have spoken with Ms. Denisent and the Matron, and they both agreed to allow you time from your work," he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. "The timing will be up to you."

The professor slid the calender across the desk to her, along with a brilliant green quill pen. It was a circular calendar for Bethas, with many appointments and notations scribbled in the blank spaces. "Here is my calendar. Would you mind picking a date out of one of the...somewhat emptier days? I'd like to get started with the tests. We're running out of time for the annual report and I'd like to have some bright news to share with the Board." He grinned. "They've had it up to their ears with reports of delinquent students and ghosts already."

The baby didn't wake. Yet.

The healer quickly and carefully slipped the tape off the baby's head. Scribbling a number into her notebook, she looked upon the previous entries, and murmured, "Good, good."

Now for his breathing and heartbeat...

Her spidery fingers raised the metal disc of the stethoscope to her cheek-- and instantly removed it. A strained, hushed half-yelp, "Tocks, it's practically freezing!"

To warm it, she breathed on the disc, its shiny metal dulling with condensation. As her vest provided its services as a towel, she remembered she was supposed to be listening in.

So she's a volunteer? Well, there's no time like the present..

Still rubbing the stethoscope on her vest, she inquired, "Good news? Is your research going well, Professor? I've been meaning to keep up, but.. well.. I've been more than a bit busy."

Professor Moore looked a little taken aback at her interest. "I wasn't aware you...kept up with my work, Healer," he said, scratching his head. "Er...it could be going better, I imagine. Just waiting for that lucky break. I'm hoping Triston's unique physiology will be the key to unlocking the mystery."

Feeling like he should probably take an interest in other people's problems, he added "What's been keeping you busy, if I may ask?"

The stethoscope ceased moving. "Oh, I'm fascinated by all things biological. And mechanical." Her eyebrows twitched perplexedly. "Well, everything, really. Most of what funds I have go toward subscriptions to various scientific journals."

"As for what I've been up to," she said, adjusting her glasses. "I've just been healing duelists, hunting ghosts, and inventing a camera spectra that can see the insides of organisms." She waved a hand dismissively. "You know. The usual."

" Ok then." She said, smiling before looking down at the calendar, bright green quill poised readily in her hand. Triston didn't actually bother looking at the dates, trying only to decipher which would be most convenient for professor Moore.

She found a fairly empty space, the twenty sixth , was about to mark it, paused, and instead turned to Moore questioningly. " Is there something specific I should write to remind you? Like...Tests? "



Triston still didnt understand how blowing things up at the age of nine made her anymore helpfull to the project. As usual, though, she didnt say anything.

((SFSR ))

At the mention of ghosts, Professor Moore's eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"You're involved in that business?" he said, surprised. "I heard Professor Figg talking about it over tea yesterday. Ghosts showing themselves to multiple people, real, concrete sightings, the first in years! Why, if I weren't so tied up with my work I'd take a stroll down to the Gardens myself and have a look." He adjusted his spectacles, and turned to Triston.

"Please, don't write 'Tests'," he said, chuckling. "I've got far too many of those to administer already. I'd probably forget it on principle. How about just your name? I'll know what it means."

"Then thank Alioe you're so busy." Triston said as she signed the calendar. Her penmanship was shaky and oddly spaced, as if she had trouble discerning were the letters were. "It wouldn't do well to be possessed before any breakthroughs, would it?" Triston smiled as she spoke, unable to decide whether or not professor Moore had a death wish.

Her smirk died away as she contemplated what Abeline had said. "Hunting ghosts" made it sound like they were simply animals, instead of the dangerous beings she had read about. " How would one go about hunting a ghost?" Triston voiced her curiosity, to no one in particular.

"She's quite right, Professor. I have enough foolishly curious people to keep track of." The healer added with a wry tilt of her head, "Myself included."



"I'm not so sure 'hunting' is the right word. The ghosts were people once.. I do not know how much of their sentience or memory remains, but it seems they do retain some. They might fall under my oath; so, I can do no harm to them. I suppose a more accurate description of the activity would be 'helping ghosts to move on,' but it's not as catchy."

"As for how this will happen, I haven't the foggiest. I'll know more tomorrow. I hope." A worried expression flickered over her face. Vespasian and Denore... They're children.. just children... How can I allow their involvement in this? Abe knew why. Curiosity about the world was too easily dammed by galdori society. To keep the river of progress flowing, sometimes drastic measures were required.

She sucked in a breath, the visage of concern disappearing. "Since we're transitioning into flu season, I'm starting to have some free time. The nurses can handle runny noses -- they only need me to sign prescription slips for fennelwort. I'll be able to devote more time to the ghosts... and other pursuits."

A sly gleam came to her eye. "Speaking of which... I need research credits to attain journeyman status. You wouldn't happen to have room for an assistant, would you, sir? I know a good deal about anatomy, ley lines, and so forth, and I can heal if there are any.. accidents." She pushed up her glasses, her hand obscuring a pensive frown.

"In return, I can offer you first look at my ghost findings."

By then, Abeline highly doubted she truly needed to continue with the investigation. However, more time spent with Professor Moore was starting to sound not so bad...