Mar 22 13:21:56 108 PA - Learning to Read, Initiation
From Chronicles
Mar 22 13:21:56 108 PA.
TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP
Late March of 108 PA, and the Spring Equinox was hit only a day or two before. Despite what the local weathermen say, Gabriel seems to insist that it's warming up, meteorology be damned. He's wearing his warm weather gear, the same kind that he was wearing when he arrived with back in September. Two in the afternoon is a comfortable time to be in the coffee shop; good, quiet music from around the world - probably picked from pre-Apocalyptic discs - and of course the scents of various types of caffeinated drinks and teas. It's also nice because this is a relatively slow hour, not too many people inside, which makes it very peaceful as well. The older man is off near one of the huge pane-glass windows at a small, two-person table with independent chairs. Ironically - or not - there are four mugs of hot beverage before him, three pastries of some kind, and one mug in his hands across which he is currently blowing. He looks to be in a complex emotional bucked of good mood, deep in thought, and very conflicted at the same time.
A black leathery nose appears on the pane of glass that's nearest to Gabriel, a white bear face and head extending further beyond that nose. The glass fogs when the bear whuffs a breath against it, and he settles to his rump to make himself comfortable there. Waiting, perhaps? Monique, meanwhile, appears the door of the coffee shop, pushing it open and stepping inside. She's dressed for warmer weather as well, no sign of the parka she reserves for winter use. She takes a moment to look around and see how busy it is, and when she spies Gabriel, she lifts a hand to wave to him and starts to head towards his table.
As there are very few people around, Gabriel has no problem with raising his voice to call out, "Miss Monique, c'mon over!" Of course, he also stands, as is proper when any woman is about. Monique is actually probably below that necessary age, but as she is apparently an important person in her culture, the honor is extended. "Hello, Tornaq," he says more quietly, just waiting for Monique to arrive at his table.
A smile lights her features, and she gives a small nod to him even as she heads over. A blush touches her cheeks as he stands, and there's a sparkle showing in her dark eyes. "Good afternoon, Gabriel," she greets him, her tone holding a certain warmth to it. Once to the table, she looks over the array of extra drinks and pastries, then tilts her head slightly to one side. "Is okay if sit with you? Not take seat of another?" Monique asks, her tone polite. From beyond the other side of the glass, Tornaq rumbles and remains settled there, ever watchful of the little shaman that he is duty bound to protect -- a duty which works both ways between them.
Gabriel gives Tornaq a pleasant nod, then waves Monique to the opposite chair, sitting as she sits. "Of course you can sit. And please, help yourself. The girl behind the counter is very sweet, but not too bright." He taps his temple. "She gets my order wrong... all the time. So free coffee, if you'd like. Um.. let's see -" he points to the four on the table "- mocha, caramel and cream, cinnamon, and vanilla with a quintuple espresso shot. Might want to avoid that one, unless you're okay with not sleeping tonight." He smiles then, and asks, "How've you been? Last time I saw you was at Happy Burger, with Miss Bella."
After giving a small nod to Gabriel, Monique pulls the chair out before settling into it, tucking one of her feet beneath her to make herself comfortable. She looks from one to the other of the coffees, considering them, then reaching to the one with caramel and cream. She draws it close, then lifts it to take a small sip of it. "Thank you," she says, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Though aware of the presence of the great white bear outside the window, she doesn't give him any special attention. "Have been good. Have had better hunt in past few days. And how you be?" she asks, one of her eyebrows quirking slightly as she looks at him. She lifts the mug again, taking a sip of the coffee and seeming to like it.
The older man frowns a little. "Well, on one hand, I've been good. On the other hand, I'm very bad, because my heart and head are telling me two different things, and the problem is that they're both right." Gabriel picks up his own mug and begins to blow across it, commenting, "This is a nice place, but the coffee's always a little too hot for me. I'm glad that your hunting has been better. Little easier without the snow and the mud?"
Monique tilts her head to one side as she watches him, apparently confused by the conflict he faces between heart and head. "How both right when both say different things?" she asks, curiosity lightly touching her voice. "Is good coffee... have never had bad, here," she says, giving a small nod. "Yes, hunting easier without mud. Like better with snow, though. Am used to snow most of year," she muses, her tone holding a thoughtful cast. She leaves the coffee to sit on the table in front of her, then lowers her left hand to claim a small pouch from her waist. The pouch is made of a piece of hide, hand sewn and with a design of beads upon it, and she offers it to him, a little smile touching her lips. The pouch bulges with something, though exactly what is hard to say.
Gabriel chuckles quietly, "Yes, I'm sure that you are used to more snow most of the year. But just like me - you are no longer where you're from, not physically anyway. So we both need to get used to this new place. Or time, or both." He smiles, then attempts to explain himself. "I made a promise to someone, a promise of confidence. Later, I found that confidence that I'm keeping is of... not a very good thing. If I act to... fix this thing, then I will be doing the world a service, but by doing so, I break my promise of confidence. If you break your own promises, what does that make you? Is there an acceptable time to break an oath?" He shrugs. "That's the problem that I'm looking at, and why it's so difficult for me."
The pouch that she had made is held extended to him for a lingering moment more, but then she places it to the table and pushes it closer to him. To her, at least, it gives a greater indication that it is for him. Her hand retreats from it, leaving it there, and she lifts her mug of coffee to take a sip of it, holding it then cupped between her hands. "Is hard choice to make. Hard to break promise when given," she says, her tone holding a thoughtful cast to it. She lowers her gaze, looking to the coffee, then lifts her gaze back to him. "If keep promise when is something bad to be keeping, then many ones could be hurt. Depend on what not very good thing is. Depend, too, on if give word before did know would be keeping something of bad or something of good," she muses, her brow furrowing a little bit.
The older man grips his mug in his left hand and reaches toward the pouch with his free hand. "For me?" comes the obvious question, but in a unique Kentucky drawl. "I promised silence before I knew that it was something bad. But a promise is still a promise. But keeping people safe is also important. It's not a lesser of two evils situation, it's a problem of honor and self-respect. Not that I'm one to march around spouting words of honor - I've done many dishonorable things. But those dishonorable things were done in the interests of peace. Ironically enough." Gabriel shrugs. "I only discovered my error last night. Maybe I just need to look into it more. Not that I think it will help much. But there's no reason to leap into action without decent thought, either." He smiles and reaches further toward the pouch. Again, "For me?" Then a possibly odd question, "Is this for learning your letters?"
Monique gives a small nod to the first question, a smile touching at the corners of her lips. "Yes. For you," she says softly, her dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. Lifting the mug of coffee, she takes another little sip before settling it to the table's surface again. Inside the leather pouch is a hand-carved wooden figure of a tree's trunk with a y-branch extending from it, and upon the y-branch is perched an eagle. "Is in part for that, and in part for being friend," she says, giving a small nod. "Can be difficult decision, to break word or not. I not envy need make choice," she says, a thoughtful cast to her words.
Gabriel smiles as he takes the carving very delicately out of the pouch. "Oh. It's beautiful, Miss Monique. I'm going to find a great place for this back home. Maybe with Natasha." He smiles and adds on, "You know, the eagle - the Bald Eagle specifically - is the symbol of my country." After setting the carving on the table, his free hand rises up to his left shoulder, unlatching a small piece of fabric that to most everyone would have gone unnoticed. Concealed inside it is a stylized eagle, wings outstretched, head and beak to one side. Then the words, Col. G. Blaze - that she won't be able to read, of course - and a small American flag... with forty-nine stars. "See? An eagle. It's even my rank insignia. Thank you, Miss Monique." It seems that for now, he is allowing the subject of oaths and 'the right thing' slide out of the conversation. The small piece of cloth is once again concealed. "You still want to learn, then? Because I've been doing everything that I can to remember back teaching my girls to read and write."
The small Inuit smiles at him, and then she gives a small nod to him, watching him. "Am glad you like it, was hoping you would," she says, her dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. She's clearly put time into the carving of it, as detailed as it is. She watches as the fabric is unlatched and brought out, her curiosity piqued by it, and she tilts her head slightly to one side as she looks to what is shown upon it. Lifting her left hand out, she traces a single fingertip over the figure of the eagle, and she gives a small nod. "Eagle is strong bird," she says softly, looking to him. "Am glad chose eagle for make for you," she adds, a smile touching her lips. She lets the question of her learning stand for a moment, and then she gives an eager nod, her eyes showing a sparkle. "Yes, want learn. Want learn very much, have wanted learn for long time," she admits, blushing a little bit at that.
Gabriel's eyes light up as Monique confirms that she wants to learn. Perhaps that's a little bit of getting his life back. He scoots his chair around slowly to the young girl's side and pulls out his ever-present pad of paper and a common wooden pencil. "Watch this. This is just a really basic place to start. We can distribute these mugs around as free presents, then head to the Library. But watch." He puts the pad on the table, and where Monique can easily see it, draws a picture of her. Of course, it barely looks like a human, let alone her specifically. Maybe the parka fuzzy around her face helps. Beneath it, in all capital letters, he writes: MONIQUE." After tapping it with his pencil, he delicately tears the page off and hands it to her. "That's the best I can do at drawing you. I'm a very poor artist. But this, is supposed to be you. And that -" pokes the letters "-is your name. It says 'Monique.' Keep that with you, we're going to work with it." Then, rather briskly, he manages to chug his entire mug of thankfully lukewarm coffee, and stands. Holding a hand out to her - and carefully pocketing the carving - he asks, "So, to the Library?"
Her curiosity, which never quite seems sated, is drawn to the paper that he draws on, and one of her eyebrows quirks up a bit as she watches. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and even though his drawing of her isn't the greatest, she does get the idea of what he's meaning. She looks to the letters, eyeing them some before looking to him. "This my name? You teach how make name? And how make name from my People?" she asks, looking to him a bit wide-eyed. Eager, she is. Lifting her mug of coffee, she drinks most of what remains, thankful that it's not to hot, and then she sets the mug back to the table before giving a nod to him. "Yes. To library," she says, a smile lighting her features. Lifting a hand, she accepts the one he offers her, getting to her feet. The drawing is claimed and held like a precious gift, tucked carefully into a pouch at her waist.
Hand in hand, at least until outside where Tornaq will likely take over, Gabriel escorts Monique to the Library. Where better in the town to learn to read? On the way through the streets, he asks, "What is your name, from your People? I can show you how to write it using our letters." Gabriel doesn't confuse the issue by pointing out the the English language uses... Latin characters.
KINGSDALE CITY MUSEUM (LIBRARY)
Once outside, the pair are met with the great white bear who lowers his nose to lightly touch Monique on the front of one of her shoulders. He rumbles softly, then looks to Gabriel in a considering manner. The small Inuit woman lifts a hand to lightly pat his fur, a smile touching her lips, and she subconsciously steps closer to the bear. It's a normal thing, really, for her to essentially be walking in the bear's shadow. Monique looks to Gabriel, and she raises an eyebrow slightly. "Name from my People is Nasamiituuq," she says, a smile touching her lips and a blush creeping to her cheeks. The people she's told that name to, here, are very few indeed. She follows to where he leads, having never ventured into the library before.
Gabriel can see in Monique's eyes that she's never been here before. Of course, first you have to get into the Museum, then make your way to the Library. After they're up the steps, he turns to address - Tornaq. "Tornaq, my friend, honorable protector, I don't think that they'll let you in. But this place, this building? It is *the* safest place in the entire city. The walls are thick, there's security, and dozens of charms and magical things that I don't understand, other than they prevent bad things from happening in here. I promise you that Miss Monique will be safe in here." He glances at his watch. Though he doesn't know if Tornaq has quite a sense of time as Gabriel himself does, he puts his wrist down and says, "I don't think we'll be more than an hour today, but if it starts to get late, I'll - or we - will come let you know, okay?" He then sounds out Monique's true name. "It's beautiful."
Once to the library, the small Inuit woman takes a long moment to look over the outside of the place. It's large. Very large. She blinks a little, then lightly pats Tornaq on the leg. Turning to him, she speaks quietly in her native language, then gives a small nod. The great white bear rumbles softly, lowering his head to touch her cheek, then her shoulder, and then he bobs what seems a nod before settling on his rump outside. To wait, and trustingly so. Though Gabriel gets a look as though he'd better protect the shaman in his stead before the great white bear turns his attention elsewhere to keep an eye to the area. "Thank you... I not tell many. It easier for people say Monique," she says softly, a smile touching her lips.
"I wouldn't say easier. I'd just say that it's more normal that people are accustomed to hearing," Gabriel says with a smile, then will lead Monique into the museum, pointing out interesting things until they make it into the Library proper itself. With a sweep of his arm, "Look at these, Miss Monique. Thousands of books, and books contain hundreds of pages. There are millions of words in here, and when you can read - you can learn anything that they have to say." He quickly adds the caveat, "Well, at least if the book is written in English. I used to speak other languages, but when I was transported here, things were knocked out of my head. But my language is an old language. It's very close to when everyone else speaks - what you are trying to speak, which is called American. My language is... perhaps it could be called, 'more pure.'" Then, after another brief pause, he asks, "Do you want to look at the books for a while? I can tell you what they are, if some of them interest you. But if not, we should sit." He gestures to one of the low tables that dot the area. This happens to be a round affair, surrounded by a single connected plush cushion-couch with an even, plush back.
Monique quirks a small smile, and then she gives a nod. "Yes. More normal to hear," she affirms, her dark eyes showing a shine to them. She follows him into the museum, looking to whatever he points out and listening, and she raises an eyebrow slightly. "Can learn anything from book? Seem almost like magic," she says, looking over the great number of books with a sense of awe to her. "Much knowledge, here. Most knowledge of my People passed by speak, by say. Some by scrimshaw. I not able read books yet... when able read, then choose books for read. Need learn letters first, learn words," she says, giving a small nod. She steps over to the table that he had indicated, and she settles on the cushion-couch it has. She nudges her boots off, then smoothly draws one of her legs up to tuck it beneath her, settling more comfortably.
Before seating himself and his charge, Gabriel does take out a moment with a bit of wonder to run his hand down one very large book. "I don't know how this is still around. It's a Gütenberg Bible. The religion of me, and my family. I'm not trying to convert you, but you might be interested - when you can read." He smiles and seats himself on the couch, patting a space next to him for Monique to sit, and retrieving his pad and pencil. "Please, put your picture out on the table. You already know - I think - what these words mean, but I'll show you what they look like. Even if you can't read them yet." Pat-pat gently on the table.
Scooting across the couch to be next to where Gabriel sits, she keeps a foot tucked beneath her. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and she lowers a hand to the pouch she had put the drawing, taking it out and placing it on the table. One of her hands lowers to her lap, and the other remains on the table. She gives him a curious look, tilting her head a little to one side. Her brow furrows a little as she looks to the drawing, then to him. "Will learn how read them," she says softly, giving a small nod. She wants to learn, but more than that, she's started to realize that she needs to learn.
"Yes, you'll learn to read them. But not this way. Right now, I'm just showing you whole words. The way to learn to read is to understand each letter. For instance -" Gabriel writes 'MONIQUE' in an upper corner, separated by very clear spaces, though recognizing the equal and similar symbols between the two written names should be obvious. "These are called letters. Words are made of letters, letters are pieces of words." He gestures, pokes, and pulls gently at the girl's clothing - nothing even vaguely untoward, of course. "Like how different animals, and different pieces of the same animal, all come together to make your shirt, or your parka. Does that make sense?"
Monique raises an eyebrow slightly, and then she gives a small nod to him before her attention turns to the page. She watches what he writes, her brow furrowing a little bit. She gives a little nod at his explanation about words and letters, chewing a little at the inside of her lower lip. She blinks a little, looking to her clothes that he pokes and tugs at, and a bit of a blush creeps to her cheeks before she gives a small nod. "Make sense. Letters are parts of words. Like ice blocks part of igloo," she says, a hint of a smile touching her lips.
Gabriel grins. "Exactly. Even better analogy than mine. Now here, this word is your name - your name here, Monique." He circles the 'M' lightly. "This letter makes a sound like 'mmm'." The next letter is circled and sounded, "This makes an 'oh.'" All down the name, including the letters of the last syllable, which make a single sound together. He still separates them. "Now you say each sound, slowly, put your finger on each letter when you make the sound." Assuming that she remembers everything correctly - which she well may not, considering this is probably the first word in English she's ever been shown like this - her name won't actually sound like 'Monique.' "Go ahead, say it like I showed you. Or do the best that you can."
Giving a small nod, the petite woman shifts her weight slightly and looks to the letters on the paper. She watches the 'm' be circled, then the 'o', and so on through the rest of the letters of her name. She blinks a little, peering at the letters for a moment, and then she gives a small nod. She then does as he'd asked, sounding out her name with each letter getting its own sound to it. It makes her name sound funny and not quite right, and she wrinkles her nose a little, unsure. Shifting her weight, she sits up a bit and then tries it again, almost as though tasting the letters as she speaks them.
"Now you see how letters will make other letters sound different when you put them together. Like when these letters -" Gabriel circles 'que' "- come together to make the 'qeek' sound. But don't worry, that's advanced stuff. I just wanted to show you. For now, I have an easy assignment for you. These are words that you already know, but you don't know what they look like when written down." A very light line is drawn from the eyes on the picture and off to the side, where he writes, 'eyes.' "These are your eyes, and this is the word that reads, 'eyes.' I know that you don't know what the letters sound like individually, or how they go together, but this is a just a brief way to look at things you know, so you can associate some very basic information with things that are familiar to you." He continues drawing various lines to different parts of 'her' face, writing the words in capital block letters for ease of reading. After hitting all of the major features, he makes one more drawing, one that vaguely looks like a polar bear, and writes beneath it, 'TORNAQ.' The eraser-end of his pencil taps the poorly-drawn image. "Your protector, Tornaq. This is what his name looks like, in English. It's pretty straightforward, no strange sounds making different sounds, like in 'Monique.'"
Monique raises an eyebrow slightly as she looks to him, and then she gives a small nod. Her attention turns to the picture again, and to where he's written 'eyes', her expression thoughtful as she listens to him. Each bit he writes, she looks to, studying it for a moment. And when he draws Tornaq, she picks up on that before he's written then name, a smile brightening her features and a sparkle showing in her eyes. That he's using things she's familiar with keeps her more interested in the learning, which is always a good thing. For the moment, she's quiet, trying to absorb the knowledge.
Gabriel goes through other words, facial descriptives. Nose, lips, teeth, then smaller details, like eyelashes. Each word is written in block capital letters. "Remember, I don't want you to just memorize what these words look like all by themselves, I'm just showing you, so you know what to expect in the future. You need the blocks of ice before you can understand why the igloo stays up and keeps you warm." He'll pass the pencil over to her, and then pull a second pad of paper from within one of his larger pockets. On the front cover, in big letters is written, 'MONIQUE.' "This is tricky, so don't fell bad if you don't get it, Miss Monique - but do you see anything special about this pad of paper?"
As he uses her analogy again, she smiles at him and then gives a nod. "Yes. Need ice blocks first," she agrees, her eyes showing a sparkle. As he passes her the pencil, she accepts it but since she isn't really sure how to hold it, she ends up doing it wrong by holding it more like someone would a knife if they were about to stab something with it. As the second pad is brought out, she tilts her head to one side and looks to it, blinking a little at the writing on the cover of it. She sounds it out, under her breath, the first time not really getting it but the second time picking up on what it says. "It have my name on it!"
"Yes! Good job, Miss Monique. This pad is for you -" Gabriel pokes the Eskimo girl in the shoulder. "You get to keep it. You're not really holding the pencil right, which by the way, you get to keep, too, but for now that's okay. Open up your notebook, and draw something that you like on the first page. Whatever you want."
At the poke to her shoulder, Monique gives a little giggle, her dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. "Thank you," she says sincerely, giving a small nod to him. She opens the pad to the first page, staring at the blankness of it for what seems the longest moment. "How supposed to hold pencil for write, for make picture?" she asks, curious since he mentioned it.
"Here," Gabriel says, taking another pencil mysteriously out of his pocket like a not-so-impressive magic trick. It's sharpened to a fine point. "Watch. People hold it differently depending on what they're comfortable with, but this is the 'correct' way to do it. It gives you the most control. So this is a good place to start." He demonstrates the pencil - obviously point-first - gripped between index and middle fingers, and thumb. "Some people used this place between their thumb and their finger as a rest, and you can write like that, and it can look very pretty. But this is the right way." He smiles at her and gives her a wink. "Don't worry, it's not very obvious. You need to develop the muscle memory before you can use it without having to think about it. And your handwriting is going to look very bad for a long time. Just expect that, and practice." He pauses shortly, then clarifies, "Muscle memory means that your muscles remember the shape of your body, or how it does something, so that your brain doesn't have to remember it. Just like you don't have to keep thinking, 'inhale, exhale.'"
Monique tilts her head slightly to one side as she watches him, studying the way he holds the pencil before giving a small nod. She releases the pencil to lay it on the table, then picks it back up, attempting to position it similarly to how he does. It feels weird, but she doesn't complain about it. Her attention turns to the paper in front of her, and she starts to draw. A little uneasily at first, but when she realizes that it's kind of like her native scrimshaw, she seems more at ease with it. And she draws... a walrus. Or her best approximation of one, which is good enough it can be identified at least. She's done scrimshaw carving before, so animals aren't too bad for her to make. "Muscles learn how hold it so it not feel strange," she suggests, raising an eyebrow slightly.
Gabriel bobs his head, and taps the.. walrus.. with the eraser-end of his pencil. "Okay, good, good." Then, "Yes, exactly. Your muscles will learn how to hold it, so that it doesn't feel strange when you use it. Just like you can pick up your knife, and you just know how to use it." He gives Monique a congratulatory poke of the shoulder again. "Okay, now take the parts of your walrus, and draw lines from the parts of it that know the names for. As many as you like. Don't worry if your lines are wiggly, mine are straight because I've been writing for..." the older man considers, "about thirty-seven years of practice."
Monique raises an eyebrow slightly as she looks to him, and then she gives a small nod. Yet her attention falls to the drawing again, studying it, her brow furrowing a bit. She makes a line away from the tusks, the line wobbly and uneven. Then another from the flippers. Another from the tail. From the whiskers and from the nose, from the belly, from the head, and lastly from the eyes. None of the lines are great masterpieces, each of them wobbly. Once she's put in the lines, she goes back to holding the pencil more like it was a knife -- default position, apparently.
"Here. Try to remember," Gabriel says, gently fixing the position of the pencil. "It's not the most important thing right now, but if you can try to remember it, that's good. Train those muscles!" The last little bit is said with an attempt at an entertaining flourish. Then he will put his hand - as he's ambidextrous, whichever one fits over Monique's dominant hand - over hers, cupping it. "Okay, now that the pencil's set, we'll write some words. Again, I know that the symbols - the ice blocks - don't mean anything to you, but the word will be the whole igloo. When you go home, you and Tornaq can look at them, and remember what they look like. Maybe you can even take the letters from your name - if you remember them, and if you don't that's okay, this is very early - and try to sound out some of the letters. But this is what it feels like to write. At least, a little bit." The father guides her hand, spelling out the words that go with the lines and body parts, saying the words along with it, writing very slowly, but as neat as he can given his own handwriting on top of hers. He will end with a large label of capital letters, 'WALRUS.'
Monique blushes a little at the reminder, and she changes the way that she's holding the pencil back to the way that he'd taught her. She gives a small nod, and makes a conscious effort to keep it held that way. "Muscles try resist learning, but I stubborn," she says, her dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. She blinks a little when he overlaps her hand with his, then at his explanation, she gives a small nod. She lets him guide her hand through putting words to all the labels, unfamiliar with writing any of the letters herself. She tries to compare what the parts are to their labels, but it's early in her learning for it to make much in the way of sense. Lifting her other hand, she points to where he wrote 'walrus'. "This mean what? Mean what picture is, like did when draw Tornaq?" she asks, looking to him.
Gabriel takes his own pencil and underlines 'WALRUS.' "Just like I did with your picture to say, 'Monique,' and with Tornaq's picture to say, 'Tornaq,' this word says 'Walrus.'" He then sits back a little and thumps his lips with the eraser of his writing implement. "Walrus is the English name for that animal. You probably have a different name for it, and I can show you how to write it using English letters - but you need to learn the word 'walrus.' Both how to write it, how to spell it, how to say it, and *why* to say it. If you use your name for it - I assume you have one - people won't understand what you're trying to say." He then does the slow circle-and-sound as he did with 'Monique.'
Rasputin has wandered in, sporting his smart suit and carrying his usual cane. He sits down a large table, puts down his cane and his stack of note pads. He lays out several quills, pens and ink wells. He then goes about collecting several books. And by several books, it is more than three or four dozen. Then he goes back and gets another stack equally as large. Then, after this twenty or thirty minutes of him collecting things, he sits down, flips open several books and begins to take notes.
Monique watches as he underlines 'walrus', and then she gives a small nod. "Yes. People here not know word of my People for this animal," she says, pointing to the drawing of the walrus. "Did have to explain once, before know name is walrus," she adds, giving a small nod again. Her attention is distracted from the task at hand when Rasputin goes book hunting, and she blinks a little bit at the sheer volume of books that he's brought back to his table. "He... read all those?" she asks quietly of Gabriel. It's a lot of books. A lot, a lot of books.
The older man looks up to his Russian friend, but keeps his voice low. "Perhaps. I don't know how fast he reads. If I had to guess, he probably only reads the parts that are important to him. But I don't know for sure. You could ask him if you wanted to. He's very nice." Gabriel's face lights up and his eyes twinkle. "Here, Miss Monique. We'll end tonight's lesson trying to confuse you. If you want to talk to the nice man, walk up to him and say -" he is very slow and careful in pronunciation "- 'privet Rasputin, vam prochitat vse knigi.'" Oh, sure, it may be an evil way to end, and possibly destroy everything that was taught. Gabriel explains, "That's Russian, what my wife spoke, and what I could speak to her. It's *not* English, and doesn't even use the same letters. So take your notebook home with you, and remember to watch the pictures, and say the words. Remember what they look like, and sound out the letters of the names, if you can. But don't feel bad if you can't - children take years to learn to do this. I suppose this is the modern 'crash-course' version."
Rasputin has zoned into his own little world, flipping pages around on the various books. He starts to take notes down. He seems to have some process by which he copies notes into a large note book. Then every few minutes he stops, copies them into a smaller note book. Finally if watched, his process is watched long enough he then copies notes into a third note book. He he doesn't take long to start discarding books into another pile of books, and opens up a few additional books and begins a new.
Monique brings her attention back to Gabriel, listening to him, and she blushes a little bit at the suggestion. She blinks a little bit, confused and puzzled by the words he tells her to tell the man at the other table. A glance is given to Rasputin, and then she looks to Gabriel. She closes the notebook that he'd given her, then tucks the pencil into the coiled spine of it before giving a nod. "Will keep book, will bring when teach again. Will try make letters, say words. I not mind if take time to learn. Many things take time for learn, but these things worth learning. Thank you for teaching, Gabriel. I thankful," she says, giving a small nod. She doesn't head towards the Russian just yet, but she keeps the words she was given in mind, for when she does head towards him.
Gabriel grins, feeling good at once again imparting knowledge to, well... a child, at least by age. "Good, good. There isn't much for you to work with right now, but until we meet again to study, try sitting with Tornaq and studying the pictures. Try to learn the words, even if you don't know the letters. I'll explain the letters next time. But *do* take 'Monique,' 'Tornaq,' and 'walrus,' and write the letters, and say the sounds. Don't worry if the letters are messy and not like mine. You're learning. Okay?" He claps his hands together light - after all, it's a library. "Any questions for me? If you need more pencils or anything, just let me know. You can sharpen it with your knife." The last may be unnecessary, but it's spoken anyway.
Rasputin's work continues. His pursuit through the books, large and small. Most of the bindings on these books are wide and well used. Many are in a swirly script which is definately not American. He stops a moment, and tugs on his beard a few moments. Then nods to himself, chewing on the quill he is using to write with. Apparently the thought completed, he writes down a few additional notes and continues reading the books.
Monique nods to Gabriel, a smile lighting her features. "Will try, promise. Will study words, and letters. Tornaq help," she says, giving another little nod. "Will write letters, say sounds, and speak words. Promise. Expect messy letters, and will try hold pencil right," she adds, giving a shy little giggle. She'll try not to default to holding it like a knife about to be used for stabbing. "Have no questions for tonight. Maybe have questions next time," she says after a moment of thought to consider if she does or not.
"If you have any questions in between our next official session.. let's say, maybe in two weeks? If you have any questions in between, just come and ask." Gabriel will then give Monique a playful and gentle swat on the nearest shoulder. "You better go outside, for my sake. I promised Tornaq that I'd have you back in -" he glances at his military and analog chronometer "- about two minutes. Wouldn't want to get on his bad side." Wink.
Rasputin seems to have found a few books which are completely focusing his attention. He is writing large groups of notes in the first note book, flipping several pages over and over. Then, after several minutes of this flurry, he starts to write a few additional notes into the second book. Then goes back to the first notebook. He continues to work on his first note book, flipping three pages at a time from all three books. His hands just fly along, working quickly.
The small Inuit woman gives a little nod to Gabriel, and a smile. "Promise will ask, or will have Sebastien write them down if can't find you," she says. She quirks a grin at the swat her shoulder earns, then gathers up the book and pencil from the table. "Will go so Tornaq not worry. Maybe next time be somewhere he able watch and see what learn," she muses in a thoughtful tone. She gets to her feet, and after looking to Rasputin's flurry of work with the books, she looks to Gabriel for a moment. "Thank you for lesson, tonight," she says, giving a small nod. Presuming the lesson to be concluded, she starts to head towards the exit to keep the great white polar bear from storming inside.
Gabriel remains behind. "You're welcome, Miss Monique! Tell Tornaq thanks for being patient." With that, the lesson is truly concluded, and though the man will wait to make sure that the Eskimo girl makes it out of the Library alright (hey, someone could trip), he'll return to the stacks of books himself. Perhaps to that miraculously surviving Gütenberg Bible that he spotted on the way in.
