Alexandre’s Inquiry

3 Primary Dawn II

Class started, and the professor, Dr. Straker, introduced the topic in possibly the least interesting way possible. Finch whispered, informing his cousin that Reighleigh Straker was one of those professors that only cared about the research aspect of being a professor, and autopiloted through the teaching part.

He wrote the course code on the board, and then said, “I wrote the course code in calcium carbonate. That’s a chemistry joke. Don’t expect any more.” It would be the only joke or anecdote he would give for the entire year.

Alexandre sighed. She would have to get used to it. “Could I skip class and just read the textbook do you think?”

Before Finch could tell her how terrible an idea that was, someone came in late. She was tall, very light skinned, and wore her blonde hair extremely long. Finch had never seen her before, so he figured she was another first year. He noticed that she also wore a metal headband, something like a white-gold tiara. He wondered what it meant. She was also dressed entirely in black, complete with a high-necked top and leather pants. Her belt was studded. She looked like a metalhead, Finch thought.

“Feel free to sit down,” said the professor.

She looked around the class, locked eyes with Finch, and then sat near him on the other side of Alexandre.  Their classroom was large, too large, and as a result, it was only half full. And despite this, she sat down right across Alexandre. They sat, listening to the drone carry on about nothing. Finch whispered that his first classes were notoriously pointless. The tiara-wearing newcomer whispered back to him.

[The writer got up to use the washroom and put on a playlist. Specifically this one:]

“If that’s the case, why haven’t you left yet?”

Her expression was smug, and Finch didn’t know how to reply. Alexandre did instead.

“Politeness, I guess.”

“Hmph.” The woman turned to the front.

They were all near the centre of the room closer to the door. The class passed by very slowly after that. Finch didn’t bother to take notes.

4 Primary Dawn III

Finch woke up to a hand on his shoulder.

“You have to tell me where this one is or I’ll get lost again.”

He opened his eyes and looked around. It was Jutt. He rubbed them and looked at her sheet again.

“Ah…  Right, this one is in the same building as mine. I can show you.”

They went to the Criticism and Law building. Finch didn’t notice that the woman from before followed them, but Alexandre did. She was trained for things like this. The building was in noticeable disrepair. When they went in, it was clear by the rags and buckets that the building probably had a leak. The walls probably used to be white, now they were smoke-beige.

Finch led Alexandre, and subsequently also tiara-woman, to the second floor. The building was rather open-concept, and the second floor’s halls doubled as parallel balconies to the first floor. The ceiling was peaked like a cathedral.

“Make sure you go on the left side. Look, these…balconies don’t connect except at either end, so if you go down the wrong one, you have to come all the way back or go to the other end.”

“This building is quite gothic.”


“Look, there are even rose windows on either end.”

“Please Jutt.”


“What is gothic?”

“Oh, it’s a style of architecture that’s cathedral-like, irregular, and cavernous. That’s about all I know, other than it’s also a fashion style characterized by an excess of black.”

“Gothic architecture attempts to use masonry and glass to simulate the light that passes through the trees, the feelings of intimacy with nature. They don’t necessarily succeed, but it’s an admirable effort.”

The two stopped and turned to who was speaking. It was the girl from before.

“Were you following us?” Finch said.

“She was. I could hear her.” Alexandre said.

The stalker frowned.

“What is your name, Lussa?” Alexandre asked.

“I’m Lunesca.”

“That’s an awful name.”

“I know! Call me Lune.”

“That’s also pretty bad,” prodded Alexandre, “my name is Alexandre Dirge.”

“Yeah, you’re the criminal gang lord, right?”

Alexandre said nothing.

“I thought so. Alexandre? What? That’s, like, three syllables. You’re… you’re Lex.”

“Am I?”

“You are now.”

Finch wanted to say that she already had a nickname, but he was quite intimidated by the women, so he said nothing.

Four people exited the nearby classroom. Finch showed Alexandre the door (it happened to be the same door that was recently evacuated) and then he headed to his own class.

The course in question was quite unique. It was called, “Science, is it useful?” and it covered the opinions of influential natural studies philosophers and other thinkers, and ended on the concept of science and the flaws of the proposed “scientific method” and why it was ultimately rejected in favour of the ancient natural studies. Finch, of course, was more interested in the scientific method than the natural method, or the dialectic method.

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