[COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][i][color=FFFFFF]"Aaah, Miss. Calder. I've been expecting you. Please, have a seat."[/color]

Dr. Lehrer gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk, smiling warmly as he made eye contact with Luce. She stood in front of the door, still clutching the doorknob behind her back after closing it, the corners of the wooden embellishments digging into her shoulder blades as she leant against it. Lehrer's office felt oppressive and uninviting, in stark defiance to the good doctor's warm demeanor; wooden beams spanned the ceiling, and the walls were raw brick with splashes of shelves and cabinets across them, housing transparent clocks, endless folders, anatomical diagrams with attached notation, and framed displays of pinned insects. Butterflies were fastened belly-up, wings splayed out, all laid bare for examination by scholarly eyes. Luce felt a pang of empathy.

She cleared her throat and stepped forwards, releasing her white-knuckle grip and sitting quietly in the plush leather. Her knees were locked fiercely together and she knotted her arms across her chest; it looked like she was shrinking inwards, imploding in an effort to avoid the unavoidable conversation. Jonas simply let the silence hang in the air, his eyes twinkling with a knowing patience. Eventually, the silence grew too loud.

[color=9370D8]"You wanted to see me, Dr. Lehrer?"[/color] Luce managed, her voice croaky and breaking. She avoided talking these days, preferring to observe and analyze, trying to predict a conversation or a situation so she could better fit into it. Leading had never been her strong suit. Her brothers had been better at that.

[color=FFFFFF]"I want to see [b]all[/b] our students, Lucille. I enjoy meeting all P.R.C.U.'s fresh pupils for the first time; it's refreshing to have our first conversations, free from preconceptions."[/color]
Jonas smiled again, and Luce attempted a smile back, thin-lipped and uncertain. 
[color=FFFFFF]"I do like these conversations to be driven by the students, though. I find it benefits both of us more than a traditional interview."[/color]
Luce nodded, still holding that wan, tight-mouthed smile, still keeping her arms coiled across her.
[color=FFFFFF]"So, Lucille. Why do you think I called you in today?"[/color][/i][/INDENT][/INDENT][hr][CENTER][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1070792705547980842/1079900445021057155/Lucille_Banner.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=lightgray][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Community Farm[/I] - [I]P.R.C.U. Campus[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=lightgray][b]The Homecoming Trials #1.07:[/b][/COLOR] [I]In Vivo[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=lightgray][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]None[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]None[/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT]The early-morning sun was warm on Luce's back as she knelt over the soil in P.R.C.U.'s greenhouse. Beyond the glass panes she could hear the low hustle-and-bustle of students and faculty coming and going - things were busying up these days in the run up to the opening of the semester - and also the occasional chirp-squawk from the seabirds that inhabited the isle; but in here they were muffled, and with a little bit of focused attention Luce could tune them out and concentrate solely on the seedbed in front of her. She could shuffle along, inch by inch, sidling her small bag of tools along with her to plant, water, prune, re-root, and in doing so work herself into a comfortable rhythm and achieve a sense of peaceful calm. Around her, all manner of produce sprung fruitfully from the earth: tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, asparagus. Right now she was tending to some aubergines that she'd planted last week, and that had begun to sprout healthily. 

'Exposure Therapy', Dr. Mercia had called it. Gardening was well regarded as therapeutic and a good, centering activity, teaching valuable skills while also allowing allegory to take hold in a patient's mind; but for Lucille, it doubled as a way to become more comfortable in the outdoors and around wildlife again, albeit in a far more controlled, low-scale manner as compared to braving some of the forest trails that populated the acreage surrounding the academy. The idea had been floated, for certain, but Luce had turned full-face at the idea of it; the trees loomed like spectres in the distance anytime she moved between buildings on campus, and the thought of approaching them, willingly offering herself to be devoured by the forest once again, was far more than she was capable of bearing.

Gardening, as it turned out, was a suitable middle-ground. Luce had been forced, like the rest of the student body, to take a community elective to assist in the day-to-day running of the university, and when the topic came up in Luce's weekly sessions, Dr. Mercia had practically forbidden her from taking any of the [i]indoor[/i] electives. They'd compromised, and much to Luce's surprise the greenhouse had quickly become a home-away-from-home - or home-away-from-dorm-room, from her perspective - and she often found herself toiling away at the dirt in her down-time even outside of allotted community placement hours. She had developed a surprising aptitude for it, and Luce would often feel a rush of pride when seeing some of the fruits (and vegetables) of her labour appear in the canteen.

Luce was interrupted from her green-thumbed meditation by the trumpeting call that signaled the day's start, and she stuck her trowel firmly in the dirt next to the tomato plant she had sized up for pruning, marking her place for when she returned. She stood, and quickly discarded the academy jumpsuit she'd been provided; beneath was the day's uniform, pressed and pristine, if now a bit rumpled around the knees where she'd been kneeling. She touched a hand to her 'Blackjack' armband, delivered to her temporary dorm just the night before. It represented so many unknowns, so many uncertainties, but also a fresh start, a chance to learn who she really was. Organized education hadn't suited her in the past, but P.R.C.U. wasn't exactly aligned with how the rest of the world approached a formal academic institution; there was opportunity here to seek a new beginning, and discover where she was supposed to be. 

All she needed first was a deep breath.[/INDENT][/INDENT]
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