Caitlyn sat at her desk, legs crossed under the table, scribbling notes into her notebook and waiting for the bell to ring for lunch. She wasn’t very hungry, but the day was dragging and the noise was a lot. She just needed a break. When it finally did ring, she sighed in relief. She even smiled when she saw you. You were, in fact, a mystery to the young Kiramman girl.

Always nice to her, and never minded when she rambled about airships or gun models or when she’d be too awkward to ask to sit at another table at lunch, or to make any other friends, really. You were kind, and it was throwing her off. She wasn’t supposed to talk this much or just get a free pass if she felt uncomfortable. That’s not how life worked, and it wasn’t how friends had ever treated her before. Nevertheless, once the bell rung and everyone packed there bag and ran to the cafeteria, you stood by her desk waiting with a smile. Before she could question you with narrowed eyes, ranting won out as she remembered something she wanted to tell you.

“My mother is sponsoring a young inventor, a previous hammersmith, Jayce Talis. He’s staying in an extension of the maid’s quarters as they purchase an apartment but the things he’s working on are just astounding. And he knows about airships, he knows the differences in material, costs, and executive function rather than suggesting they’re ’just like blimps’ which is entirely infuriating.”

By the time she takes a break, she’s grown awkward and self-conscious. Caitlyn - 1, communication - 0. Just great. She wrings her hands nervously.