[ OPEN + CLOSED PROMPTS ] I COULD LIFT YOU UP.

[sunderings]

Who: Solange "Sol" Aster (Sion Astal) & You!
When: 05/19 - 05/21
Where: The dormitories, city park, and a music room!
What: Weekend activities to include: using cupcakes to solicit community involvement, losing track of assignments in need of grading on a blustery day, and being overly affable in public.

❶ And there, atop the stainless steel of a countertop used many a time to house impromptu study-sessions and dinner parties, lies...!
❷ The decision is yours, good samaritan: will you aid him?

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CLOSED | Arturia Llywelyn (Alice Liddell)

[sunderings]

Ar~tie.

[ —Solange's call is silvered and sing-song, playful as his knuckles rap against Arturia's door because today (or rather, tonight) is Study-Buddy Sunday, and he is here in all his glory ('glory', defined as the most comfortable pajamas one might have the great pleasure of luxuriating the weekend away in!), bearing not only his expert knowledge of French (it is his mother tongue, after all!), but gifts: one plotted plant (hydrangea, in the softest shade of blue), and...!

A mysterious other something which will make its debut later on in the evening, perhaps after Arturia has seen fit to scold him not once, not twice, but most assuredly three times over his carefree demeanor, and he—the dormitory RA who only seeks to help those other students placed under his care—has quite nearly outstayed his welcome.

But ah, they haven't made it so far—not yet, at least, for the door has yet to open!

But when it does, Solange will be standing there, flowers in hand and a messenger bag (boasting textbooks, loose leaf, and other such supplies) at his hip, a smile bright as the noonday sun parting his lips: ]

I brought you something, for your room.

[digophelia]

[ Arturia had been preoccupied with painting aside from her studies in French. It had been taught to her as a girl, but it had been so long that she had seen her French-speaking nanny that she had nearly forgotten most of it. It might be the most casual he would see her, Arturia doing nothing to clean up the mess around her room, paper tossed carelessly all over, photographs pinned to her wall, and Arturia's belonging strung about.

Unbeknownst to her, her medication carelessly tossed on her chair. It's Sunday, which means Arturia wasn't able to sleep well. Arturia had half the mind to banish Solange altogether to sleep. If only she hadn't had a big exam for her French class. Arturia's hair in her face, she greets him with a squint and her tea.

Unlike Sion, she's fully dressed, with the exception of her shoes. ]

Don't call me that.

[ The plant is lovely and in her favorite color, no less. With the mess that is her room, she defuses, taking it from Solange's hands with a bit of reluctance. She's quick to shuffle off, burying her face further behind her dark locks. ]

Ah, thank you... for this?

[ It feels weird to compliment him, let alone thank him. And it's even stranger how her hair feels like it's brushing against her cheeks, even when it's not. How would she know how flush looks. As Arturia turns to him, she has her hands on her hips and goes back to business. ]

Well, don't just stand there, find a seat.

[ As she gestures to the seat that holds her medication. ]

I would like to get this done before I start studying for my other exam.

[sunderings]

[ It's childish, in a way, the comforting state of disarray that is Arturia's room—the photographs are things which she loves, her belongings strewn about in a way which cannot be called tidy, but so too is reflective of her mood (a mood which is presently flustered, if her blush is at all telling), and one of the many papers which Sol spies (a French study guide?) is easily plucked from its resting place, his golden eyes scanning the text as he seats himself in the chair he'd been ushered toward.

While he is certainly dressed down, Solange's posture is immaculate, alert as he sits upon the edge of the seat (missing the small bottle which is tucked neatly into the cushion crease), shoulders squared and back straight despite himself. ]

I'm happy that you like the flowers. When I passed them by in a store-front window, I could not help but think of you.

[ —he murmurs, glancing up after he's finished reading through the study guide. Altogether, he'll consider it a success that Arturia hadn't refused the gift, as she once might have when they first met. How it seems so very long ago, when he'd been the odd student out, a transfer from France at the very beginning of higher cycle. But then, perhaps due to his displacement, he and Arturia had gravitated toward one another, each on the fringe of the student body, for a time.

But then, Solange had been swept up and away into teaching, then resident assistantship, his days growing longer; his attention pulled toward the needs of the campus, though...

He always found his way to Arturia's dorm room, in the end. Once, as he fondly recalls, he even camped out in the hall beside her doorway until she relented, letting him in.

(Privately, he smiles to himself.) ]

It looks like the exam will be equal parts written and oral. [ As is typical, for spoken language courses. What isn't typical is the fact that examinations have come far quicker than normal this semester, almost as though they were meant to be a distraction from the mystery application which seems always to manifest as a shadow of a thought at the back of the mind. ]

Which section are you having trouble with?

[digophelia]

[ She always found herself hating being around other students, if not for the anxiety, just for the fact it forced her out to be social. Exposure therapy, her many therapists had told her. By the time she enrolled here, she kept most of her psychotic episodes and hallucinations to a minimum. It was hard to connect to others, to fully admit that Arturia had spent most of her life hold up in a behavioral hospital back in London. She couldn't find a soul here to admit to how much she struggled with those issues. She hid it so well.

The morbid, often aloof Arturia was hard to befriend and she preferred it that way. She wouldn't admit she appreciated Solange's company or that it was one of the few assurances she had. But back to French and away from her silly feelings how she could experience both high and low feelings with Solange and proceed to not look at him but grabbing one of her many notes.

After furiously through many pages and settling on her bed alongside books, drawings, and a few stuffed animals. ]

Past tense conjugation with verbs.

[ Which, for whatever reason, is very embarrassing to admit to a French native. Even more than her confusion with verbs and Sion's assistance weeks prior. ]

[sunderings]

Verbs. They are sticky things, aren't they? More so in French than in English, or so I have come to notice.

[ —Sol's voice is light, and where he might have otherwise sought to catch Arturia's eyes with his own, in the here and now, he refrains from doing so. More than anything, he wants for her to feel comfortable in her own space, her own room, and he is not here to fluster her (beyond the offering of flowers!), only to help as she settles amid the stuffed animals, artwork, and textbooks atop her bed. ]

For example... [ Fishing through the messenger bag at his hip, Sion produces a notebook and a pen which seems like it might be better suited for calligraphy than simple note-taking. ] ...English allows for the omission of the verb 'have'.

You could say, in English, 'I lost my pen', and not 'I have lost my pen'. [ Cue: a twirl of the pen betwixt his fingers! ] In French, you must always use the helping verb J'ai perdu mon stylo, or it will sound very strange to the ears.

My apologies, if I did not explain this very well before. [ Altogether, it is something which he's had to grow used to, teaching the language most familiar to him. More than any other subject which he tutors, it requires Solange to step out of his own proverbial shoes and examine the questions from another point of view. From Arturia's view, and she has always been reluctant in asking for help in any manner, whether it be studying or reaching out to him for advice. ]

This is called the passé composé, and it is the most commonly used past tense. [ A pause, a considering hum. ] Did you notice anything about the sentence structure?

[digophelia]

[ Only briefly, Arturia catches his eyes and then proceeds to shuffle back to her papers, ignoring Sion who may catch another glance at her. She furrows, remembering her caregiver lecturing her for not paying attention during these lessons. ]

Ah.

[ She had brought up her struggle with past tense verbs confident that she could stand on her own two legs to talk and study about French. In front of a native speaker. Solange never once teased her, but it did not erase the fear of once he left the room... what would he think of her then? She looks to his pen, not his face, and listen to his voice. ]

It was formed by the auxiliary verb- [ I guess is better than saying that she didn't know, right? ] "lose" sounds different than "lost", or rather- ...perdre?