He takes orders well. [Angela.], Sat., Sep 10, just after breakfast.

[Stephan Rice]

Angela Gladstone had said he was going to meet her at the gates and he had lost an amount of sleep arguing to himself whether he would actually take her up on it.

The problem was that Stephan was, in a word, terrified of Angela Gladstone. She was everything he wasn't and everything he would, most likely, never be in his life. For one, she was confident, an area in which Stephan had become viciously aware that he was lacking over the last few 2-in-the-mornings. (There was something about the unnerving cyclical thought processes in the middle of the night that made recognition of his own faults hyper-real. And sickening.) And, of course, she was able to talk to people without tripping and choking over her own words ... but he supposed that was related, in the end.

And in the end it didn't matter because it all made her so unbelievably intimidating, moreso than any professor could be because she wasn't an adult, she wasn't supposed to be so unsettling. He had wondered if that had contributed to how much his throat constricted when he tried to talk to her. He had wondered a lot of things.

She had told him that he would meet her at the gates after Saturday's breakfast and she had said it so finally like she was daring him to be a coward. He had wanted to stay in his room all morning, to skip breakfast and use the morning to ... to study, he guessed, because he wasn't sure what people really did on Saturdays. He had so wanted not to show, tell her he wasn't so indecisive and inept and tell her he didn't need to be led by the hand. Because, because he didn't. He was fine. He was awkward and nervous, maybe, and had difficulty with school, but he was fine and he knew all that and he wasn't unhappy, really.

He had gone to the gates before breakfast and shuffled on his feet as he waited, waited for Angela to show up and once again make him nervous.

He wasn't certain why.

After so many minutes he realized that it was foolish to just stand there waiting and he did what he would on any other occasion: he sat against the gate, pulled a textbook out of his bag, and abided by his studying regime.

[Angela Gladstone]

Angela was slightly late. Not overly so and she doubted Stephan would mind or even notice anyway, but she had been unable to escape her gaggle of friends. Of course, they left her alone as soon as she mentioned that she needed to get some things as part of a "project" because "project" was code word for "boring".

Angela didn't mind that her friends didn't share all of her likes and dislikes, though, because it allowed her to do things that she was doing. Things like becoming an animagus or making over Clippesbys. So there she was, strolling down the pathway to the gates dressed rather casually in a pair of jeans (slim fit, naturally) and a rather nice top. It was all very low key today because she wanted Stephan to be as pliable as possible, and if he were nervous because of how utterly magnificent she looked he would freeze up and refuse to do anything.

Angela rolled her eyes as she saw Stephan sat down reading a book. That was not what they had come here to do. Of course Stephan didn't know what they had come here to do. That would, however, soon change.

They were going shopping.

"Good morning. I see you made it," said Angela, stopping near Stephan and looking down at him. "Now get up. We have lots to do today!"

She sounded pleasant enough and friendly, but there was still a vaguely predatory gleam in her eyes. It was a lovely day and she was prepared impart some form of confidence to Stephan that day even if it wouldn't directly help his magic.

[Stephan Rice]

There was a shadow over him, which was of course Angela, and Stephan pulled his book a little closer and looked up at her over it. A weird little flutter of hope that had dared to brighten over the last few minutes suddenly deflated; Angela seemed much more imposing after a while of hoping that she wouldn't show. As he started to close his book, marking his place gently, he told himself quite firmly that it would be completely bad form to let on that he had been rather pleased at the prospect of her having forgotten him entirely because that would let him sink pleasantly back into the bland facade of the school.

"Oh," he said, looking up at her tentatively. "You came."

Which, he realized, sounded entirely like he felt and he was not meant to be so disappointed.

Angela was looking at him like a cat looks at a mouse, which was much worse than the normal feeling of being quarry to some Wentworth animal -- this was giving him a very definite impression that he was going to be toyed with before he was slaughtered. But Stephan repressed his urge to take off running and, pulling his bag up one arm and drawing his book close, stood, keeping his eyes just past Angela's face.

He licked his lips because they felt suddenly dry. And he found himself actually saying, daring to say, "What are we going to ..."

And then he realized he was talking and overstepping his boundaries and his voice died.

[Angela Gladstone]

Angela rolled her eyes at Stephan. Honestly, there were so many things that could be done instead of studying constantly! She was surprised he hadn't burnt out completely, although perhaps that was his problem! It was an interesting thought but she pushed it to the back of her head because it was not directly relevant to what she needed to do that day. No, today was for a shopping expedition and Stephan would be guided into choosing clothes for himself, guided into standing up for himself and, Angela hoped, he would gain some self-confidence, something that was incredibly important when working with magic.

"If you have something to say you should just say it, Stephan," said Angela, picking up on the fact that his sentence sort of just died. "In any case, we're going shopping today. I fancy buying myself a new dress, and I daresay you could use a new outfit." She paused. "It's on me, of course. We'll call it a gift."

It wasn't even really a gift: it was an investment. Always thinking about the future, Angela was envisioning a day when a grateful Stephan Rice would be able to provide her with something, even something as small as a favour, and even aside from that she genuinely enjoyed helping people. It was enriching.

"Would you like to visit a muggle shop or a magical shop first? There's a nice little shop in the wizarding district, but that could wait until we return to school."

[Stephan Rice]

They were ... they were going shopping. As in, they, as in Angela and Stephan, and she was taking him with and she was paying? And this felt like the wrong end of a blind date where he was the modest little girl and she was the bold prince to sweep him away and also pay for dinner. Stephan felt, needless to say, entirely lost -- lost like a blind thing taking its first step into sunlight and its skin was too thin and white and the grass was fresh and sliced at his feet. He blinked accordingly.

There was a firm part of him that very much expected Angela to turn around and laugh, to say ha ha, I was just pulling your leg and then walk away so she could tell all her infinite friends about how foolish he was. Another part of him rather hoped she would do this so he wouldn't have to bear the weird foreign feeling of something that was nearly friendship, but mostly involvement. Another part of him entirely, a very very small part, sort of wanted to go.

Then it made a squealing sound and withered.

He nearly missed what she said -- he was always doing that these days -- but then he registered that she was asking him (asking him) where they were to go first, and quite appropriately he blinked at her, rather confused, because despite hearing what she said he hadn't quite understood it. She would like to know your opinion, said a voice in his head, which had a tone worryingly like Angela's or Professor Darling's or Angela's when he had done something particularly disappointing. Tell her your opinion.

Oh, said Stephan in return to it (very certain, this time, that he hadn't been speaking aloud). I haven't really got one of those.

Outwardly he blinked and said, "Uh, well, I." He shrugged, but she had already rolled her eyes at him once and scolded him for this sort of thing so he quickly added on, "I-I don't mind either way."

[Angela Gladstone]

Angela looked at him for a moment and then shrugged daintily. If Stephan had no real drive to select a shop then she, as head of Project: STEPHAN, could definitely make such a decision. She looked down to check her nails -- which were flawless, naturally -- and then made a snap decision.

"Muggles first," she said, smiling, "We can get you a dashing pair of trousers and perhaps a nice shirt." She looked critically at him again and then flashed him a smile.

"Well, we'd best be off," she said jauntily, practically sashaying out of the gates. She looked back over her shoulder at Stephan and gave him a pointed look.

[Stephan Rice]

There was this blessed moment of quiet and then, then Angela was off again, walking like the world should just bend to her will and really it did, giving him this look like wasn't he going to come? And there was, instead of the expected internal battle of dear God that is Angela Gladstone, Destroyer of Clippesbys versus she wants to help me, I should follow versus father may I please give up magic entirely and go home, he was walking too, just following her with his head a little down and his eyes somewhere between her ankles and the ground.

What, he asked his feet, are you doing? And of course they were feet, and even in the magical world those didn't talk. So instead he was left following her off school grounds, out of something that was possibly safe and into a world where there were a thousand times more people who would try to insist on his participation in his own life.

"W-wait," he found himself saying, which was odd. "Can we really just -- leave like this, are we allowed off grounds, aren't we going to get in trouble I mean this is, um, what if a teacher looks for us, or we get hurt, we could be in detention for weeks or or suspended if -- does Stonewall suspend people -- is this allowed?"

It was about then, five years after he had started attending a school full of people who made him deeply uncomfortable, that Stephan discovered he only spoke when he was trying to not do something.

And it was pretty pathetic, too, that he had spent five years in a school of people who made him deeply uncomfortable and never tried to leave the grounds during the school year, so he had no idea at all what rules governed the students' transportation to the town proper of Stonewall. He wondered if this made him very foolish. He made a point of not looking up at all and keeping his eyes on Angela's heels so he didn't catch whatever scathing look she decided to give him. He found he didn't know what to do with his hands, it wasn't easy wringing them around the strap of his bag when he was walking, and tugged instead at the bottom of his shirt.

[Angela Gladstone]

Sometimes Angela just didn't know if Stephan was an actual person or if he was some sort of magical automaton sent from the future to baffle everyone with his terrible magic and horrid lack of confidence. It was interesting to see him say something, though, especially when it contradicted an order she had given: either he was learning quickly or there was more spine in him than she had thought. Either way it was an interesting development, so instead of walking along and assuming he would catch up, she stopped and turned towards him.

"You've been here five years, Stephan, and not once have you read the school rules? Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with you. Fifth years are allowed out of the school grounds on the weekend. That's the whole reason we're meeting on a Saturday! Sixth years can leave at any time, of course," she said. It was a well-known fact about life at Stonewall that you could, you know, actually leave the school grounds. The magical district wasn't exactly danger-central, and keeping the students cooped up like pigeons only did more harm than good.

When she took time to actually look at Stephan she realised he wasn't even looking at her face. He was staring at her shoes (which were fab, definitely, but not exactly worthy of staring). She had a sudden thought.

"I think you shall choose an outfit and then I shall choose an outfit, and we shall compare them."

It was a brilliant learning exercise.

[Stephan Rice]

Stephan made as if to tell Angela that, well, no, he'd never read the school rules -- he'd been so busy every year, every day reading textbooks in a half-hope that he would understand them that he hadn't the time to read up on the school's rules concerning social things. All he knew were things that ... occasionally came up in classes. But when he glanced up, just for a second, and there was Angela being Angela, he changed his mind and bit his tongue, which was all for the better since it appeared Angela had more to say anyway.

And even though the idea she had proposed nearly terrified him because that meant being in public and asking opinions and -- he found that his mouth was entirely dry and that he had nothing to say in response. He supposed maybe he had used up all his words for the day.

Stephan decided instead that he would just look back down to Angela's feet and let her ... drag him around, or whatever terrible idea she had. The thought of it made the skin on the back of his neck spike and tense. He nodded, determinedly avoiding Angela's gaze.


((whoo shoddy post))

[Angela Gladstone]

Angela waited -- almost expectantly -- for a response from Stephan before she realised that there wasn't going to be one, which was unfortunate. His earlier speech was probably just due to fear of punishment rather than any sort of spine.

Angela allowed her disappointment to show in her face, and then sighed and turned around to continue walking out of the school's grounds.

"Come on, Stephan. We have a lot to do today."

[[SHORT POST but see Muggle Stonewall for a new thread. REPLY THERE]]