January 27 ; Mid-Morning
The Blackwood School


Located just on the edge of the territory known within the city as the ghetto, just before the end of the prior year, a large abandoned building had been purchased -- the buyer unknown, and their reasons equally mysterious for many weeks. As November rolled into December and the New Year finally came to pass, the building became a veritable anthill of activity, swarming with workers as they repaired and restored the exterior, and remodeled the interior. By mid-January, what was once a ramshackle warehouse on the verge of falling down actually looked respectable, and rumors had been purposely leaked, about both the structure's purpose and its new owners.

Finally, just a few days prior, flyers had been found posted up throughout the city, putting proof to those rumors and likely inciting curiosity within the denizens of the infamous merchant capital. The flyers stated that the building had been purchased by an Edward and Annabel Blackwood of Boston, and that they were opening it at the start of February as a school for the underprivileged children of Venice. All who might be interested -- whether it be simply to meet the owners, see the school itself, or wanting to be involved in some manner -- were invited to attend the open house being held on the twenty-seventh day of the month.

The fated day had arrived, and as the sun shone down upon Venice, the doors were unlocked. Freshly-washed windows sparkled in the morning light, the pulled-back curtains giving glimpses of the building's interior -- sturdy furniture, bookcases bursting with tomes, clean blackboards just waiting for lessons to be written upon them, even a music room. Annabel tried to restrain her anxiety as she stood within the foyer alongside her brother, wringing her hands as she paced back and forth within the large front room. Polished wood gleamed, the heels of her sensible boots clicking rapidly upon the floor half-masked by the soft swishing of blue skirts against her legs with each stride. Her blonde hair was twisted up and out of the way, fully revealing the nervous expression upon her face, brown eyes consistently glancing toward the door from behind the lenses of her spectacles.

No doubt Edward would tell her not to be so worried, but she couldn't help herself. She'd taught at schools before, of course -- she was an accomplished instructor, both as a private tutor and as the teacher of many, but owning and running her own institution (admittedly alongside her elder sibling), while also teaching... It was daunting. She paused mid-stride and whirled around to look at Edward, fidgeting openly.

"This is utterly nerve-wracking."


<a href='index.php?showuser=57' rel='nofollow' alt='profile link' class='user-tagged mgroup-3'>@Edward Blackwood</a>

The Ghetto didn't concern the Family Barbaro, and very rarely did it come up in any of their minds. But the news of a school being opened there presented Ilaria with something of an opportunity. Her ancestors had always proven themselves canny investors, and Ilaria wanted to do them proud. Creating a legacy for herself, despite her gender and despite her family's expectations... what greater revenge was there than excelling and surpassing her brothers? It was with that mentality that Ria attended the open house. It was a mask sort of day, and so Ria arrived wearing a beautiful effigy on her face and a somewhat peculiar outfit otherwise. With a large collar, a tight bodice, and a lacy train, she looked the part of a noblewoman while still giving her the necessary ostentation to be apart of the Barbaros.

Gliding through the restored building, Ilaria took particular note of the architectural conceits--or their lack. This was a school built in a poor part of town. She hadn't expected it to adhere to the beautiful Gothic design choices that dominated the palazzi in San Marco or Dorsodura, of course, but still... the place felt foreign. She wasn't particularly well traveled, to her shame--travel had been strictly forbidden, due to her parents' concerns about Ria's tendencies--so Ilaria couldn't place where in the world the architectural underpinnings came from, but they didn't feel Venetian.

The process of opening and creating the school in the ghetto had been long and involved. Paperwork, contractors, financing, supervision, all of it had taken an enormous amount of time, energy, and dedication. Edward felt slightly guilty that he'd not been more help. He was immensely proud of his little sister and what she'd accomplished here, all the more so because he'd been too consumed by depression most days to assist. Still, the change of scenery and the new purpose he realized he'd have in this school was helping to draw him out of his shell.

"This is utterly nerve-wracking."

Looking up from his book Edward looks perplexed. "Is it?" He was clean shaven, bathed, and dressed in a proper suit all without her insistence. Given the amount of work Anna had put into this school, he'd decided that he'd be on best behavior today at least. Of course, best behavior for Edward still meant the absent-minded scholar had found a book on the bookshelf and cracked it open almost immediately.

Looking about he could see that people were still filtering in and the open house was yet to reach full swing? "So far as I can see nothing of note has happened yet. Why are you nervous?" Leave it to Edward to be utterly unaware of his sister's insecurities. Then again this was the man who often needed to be reminded to eat when he was lost in study. People skills were not in his repertoire, which is why he was a poor professor a knowledgeable one to be sure, but easily distracted and often over-eager. He had a habit of overwhelming students with advanced concepts before they'd fully grasped the basics.

"Is it?" [...] "So far as I can see nothing of note has happened yet. Why are you nervous?"

Annabel made sure not to pace when people were within view of the foyer, instead putting forth the image of confidence that would best benefit the school. However, when no one was present to see her acting like the nervous wreck she was inside, the swift back-and-forth resume. At least, until Edward spoke up. The slender blonde froze, as though processing the words spoken by Edward, and she remained still for several long moments. Then she slowly spun about to look at her brother with an openly incredulous expression. Honestly, she didn't know why she was surprised -- he'd always been oblivious, even more so since the death of his wife and son, but that didn't mean it rankled any less in that moment.

She clenched her hands into tight fists, resisting the urge to hit something -- whether it be a wall, the desk against the back wall near the staircase, or her brother's empty head. A few deep breaths slowly inhaled and exhaled through her nose eased her irritation and some of her nervousness, though she was half-tempted to ask Edward why he was even there. But she didn't need to take out her frustrations on her brother. And besides.. in a society where women were seen as second-class citizens (as infuriating as that fact was), she needed him there to provide some legitimacy to the institute prior to its actual opening. That would be more likely to reel in the patrons, which was what they needed. Once she was sure she could speak without verbally snapping his head off, she uncurled her fists and spoke in a measured tone.

"Because, dear brother, this is a momentous accomplishment for me, and I want it to go well, and I'm fighting against the desire to tear my hair out for concern that it won't."

Not for the first time, Annabel despaired at Edward's oblivious nature. She needed someone to reassure her that everything would turn out fine, and make her believe it.. and Edward Blackwood was definitely not that man. Heaving a sigh, she turned her back on her distracted sibling and found her gaze instead ensnared by an opulently dressed woman who had just wandered out of the first-floor music room. Taking a chance, Annabel approached the unknown female with a ready smile and spoke in fluent Italian, although her accent made it clear that she wasn't a native of the country.

"Good morning, miss. Thank you so much for coming today. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Annabel Blackwood, and I'll be serving as headmistress of the school, as well as an instructor."

Suddenly, the American! "Ah! Signora, my compliments. This is such a... school." She realized, as she spoke, that Ria didn't really know how to say nice things about empty buildings. "It definitely seems like it will hold many students. I'm curious, though, as to how I can help. The information I received indicated that you were looking for assistance, yes? But it also said you've purchased this building already." Ilaria wasn't an idiot, she understood there would be upkeep costs and tuition that vagrants wouldn't be able to provide. Financial support would be necessary. And the Barbaros could provide that.

Ilaria considered the investments around Venice itself, and around Terrafirma in general. She wasn't privy to everything--she didn't have a cock, after all, so Papa would only reveal so much--but Ria still understood how much coin on average shifted around the coffers. How much could a school cost? And she wouldn't be solely responsible for the patronage, either. "Oh! Ilaria Barbaro." She bowed her head to the headmistress. Her face, hidden behind the mask, blushed a little. Ms. Blackwood had a really delightful face. "Do they often have women headmasters across the ocean? All of my tutors were men."

"Because, dear brother, this is a momentous accomplishment for me, and I want it to go well, and I'm fighting against the desire to tear my hair out for concern that it won't."

Edward blinks in perplexed surprise at his sister's outburst. "Anna you are the most singularly intelligent woman I have personally met, you are a diligent hard worker, and I've personally observed the love and care you've placed into this project. There is no doubt in my mind that nothing short of an act of God could prevent this from going well and I doubt the existence of such a being so I think things will go swimmingly." He smiles at his nerve-wracked sister, the faith he had in her apparent in his eyes.

However, Anna is apparently not paying attention to him he watches her gaze drift to a woman in a dress, Edward didn't register much beyond that. Since his sister had evidently decided to go talk to her as evidenced by her retreating back, Edward returns to his book.

Although she did, of course, hear Edward's words, she elected not to respond. Mostly because it was slightly more important for her to address a potential patron and make a good impression. Not to mention his words hadn't been terribly reassuring -- while most of what he said was true, it was as though Edward either refused to acknowledge or simply failed to understand that women weren't seen as being capable of doing the same things their male counterparts did. The chances of the school completely going under because a bunch of misogynistic bastards worked against her were extremely high, especially in Europe, where the 'old boy' mentality was deeply entrenched.

Of course, not a word of this left her mouth as she instead engaged in conversation with the lady before her. Ilaria Barbaro, hm? She was vaguely familiar in passing with knowledge of the Barbaro family, that mostly being that they were an old family and wealthy. Ah, she had lucked out, then, in approaching this woman.. although she found it most surprising that anyone of that family, let alone a female, would be at all interested in turning even an iota of their patronage upon the school. It was time for Annabel to actually try and be charming.. something she wasn't particularly good at, in truth, but this was important! And so efforts had to be made and comfort zones abandoned, as she inclined her head in a deep nod of respect once the girl introduced herself.

"It definitely seems like it will hold many students. I'm curious, though, as to how I can help. The information I received indicated that you were looking for assistance, yes? But it also said you've purchased this building already."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Signorina Barbaro. As for how you could help -- an institution such as this would greatly benefit from the patronage of a family as well-known and established as yours, not only in the aspects of financial aid, but simply the prestige of having your name attached to our efforts. While I'm afraid the financial returns to the Barbaro family would be, well, veritably nonexistent, I'm sure you're aware of how such kind acts can reflect upon people within society. Especially should any of our students go on to become notable individuals one day, as is our hope.. great artists and thinkers, and perhaps even politicians."

There was a sparkle about her as she spoke of her hopes for the school and its future students, one that left no doubt as to her passion for this project.

"Do they often have women headmasters across the ocean? All of my tutors were men."

That question was not at all unexpected, and indeed, it made Annabel chuckle slightly.

"Women have been mostly entrusted with the general aspects of teaching in America, but don't usually have the privilege of presiding over an entire school, no. However, I'm not in the habit of conforming to the mold of inferiority that men have been forcing our gender into throughout human history. We are just as capable as men, and in some aspects, are even more so. I mean to use this school as a way to show that fact to the world, and hopefully make strides in the improved treatment of women in the future."

"I'm not here for the sake of financial rewards," Ilaria replied from behind her mask, tilting her head to the side for a moment. "But you're absolutely correct, Signora Blackwood. Having our names attached to your endeavor would suit us quite well. I would like to hear more about the method you have in mind, if you intend to make great artists, thinkers, and politicians. There are so many philosophies I have heard, and I only ever heard them from the foot of the stair while my brothers were being taught in earnest." Not strictly true. Having forced her way into an education, Ilaria had spent many days (once she'd been forbidden from playing with the help's children) reading.

Learning about the Ancients (Aristotle, Socrates, Epictetus, men of that style) had been interesting, if a little over her head at times. Would that sort of education be on Ms. Blackwood's agenda? Or would she be teaching them strictly in accordance to religious doctrine? Honestly, Ilaria had no idea what sort of an education that would entail. And given that Annabel was American...

"I think congratulations are in order, then, with your arrival and imminent success. Supporting you in your efforts to set right the record about women would be, without a doubt, a pleasure. It is a responsibility, being in a position of financial security, to act as patron to a great many endeavors. I suspect this endeavor will be every bit as worthy as the sculptor carving me out of marble." Ilaria gestured towards a doorway and started to walk, hoping Annabel would follow her. "You're clearly passionate about what it is you would like to do, and I cannot imagine you will not succeed. Anyone who comes into Venice with as good a grasp of Italian as you do, especially given your place of origin, is remarkable in its own right. If you'll indulge my curiosity, what is it that drew you to Venice? And why is it you taught yourself Italian? Other than, of course, your love for the language and its reputation of being the most beautiful, precise, and eminently agreeable collection of sounds in the whole of God's green earth?"

That last part was said with so much audible smirking that it was impossible, even with her face obscured, to not realize she was being comedic.

"I would like to hear more about the method you have in mind, if you intend to make great artists, thinkers, and politicians. There are so many philosophies I have heard, and I only ever heard them from the foot of the stair while my brothers were being taught in earnest."

Ahh, it was an excellent thing to hear, especially on the heels of hearing that Ilaria wasn't here seeking to fill her family's pockets somehow. Unsurprising, given the wealth of the Barbaro line, but still reassuring. Looking quite pleased, and with the avid sparkle of the lover of intellect blatant in her gaze -- even behind the mildly distracting presence of the lenses of her spectacles -- Annabel hastened to explain her philosophy to her potential patron.

"I'd be happy to share my thoughts on the matter with you. It's my belief that since every child is unique, they should have their individual talents fostered on a more personal level. Most of my efforts as headmistress, aside from organization and management, will be to personally assess every child that comes to learn here, and discover what their strengths and weaknesses are. Once this has been discerned, I'll create each child's schedule to reflect both aspects -- what most needs improving, and what would best suit their skills and desires. In this manner, I hope to foster not only an appreciation for learning, but a confidence and necessary collection of knowledge to help them achieve their utmost as they proceed through life."

It was an ambitious plan, and not exactly a traditional one. Most schools were very generic, everyone taking the same classes, with no personalizing of schedules or interest in what a child may be lacking, or what they might excel in. The idea had come to her during her last stint teaching, when she'd noticed a marked improvement in the scores of her pupils after taking the time to sit down and work with each one personally.

"Anyone who comes into Venice with as good a grasp of Italian as you do, especially given your place of origin, is remarkable in its own right. If you'll indulge my curiosity, what is it that drew you to Venice? And why is it you taught yourself Italian?"

Eagerly accompanying Ilaria as the girl gestured for her accompaniment, Annabel followed her into the nearby area -- which was a looming two-story area that took up half the building, the school's library. Most of the shelves were stuffed with tomes and carefully separated into their respective subjects, though some of the bookcases were half-empty or completely so, with many of the books still being acquired, or on their way from their point of origin. The question of her desire to come to Venice drew a smile to her lips, and the blonde woman chuckled softly.

"In truth, it was learned out of necessity. I also speak French and Spanish, and somewhat less fluently, German. I was quite young when my father died, and with my mother passed on shortly after my birth, that left my brother Edward to care for me."

Her explanation paused only briefly, allowing her to gesture back toward where Edward was sitting with his nose buried in a book. She also allowed herself a fond smile, before she focused her attention on Ilaria again and resumed her recitation of events.

"He had been touring Europe at the time, and returned home to retrieve me, whereupon his tour resumed -- and I was part of it. We spent practically all of my childhood and adolescence roaming, learning anything and everything. I fell in love with Venice while we were here, and had hoped to return someday. I remained in contact with a friend here, and she alerted me to the dire educational needs of the children here in the poorer part of the city. When Edward's wife and son passed away... Well, he needed a change of scenery, and it just seemed like the best choice."

The mention of the loss of her sister-in-law and nephew dimmed her exuberance somewhat, a small frown on her lips. She missed them dearly, sometimes -- more than that, she hated seeing the shell of a man her brother had become in the wake of their deaths. It was truly tragic, and she hated that she could do nothing to help him find his love for life again.

Edward face buried in a book shows no sign that he is even aware he is being spoken about. Of course, that was no guarantee he wasn't listening he was the one who taught Anna most of her languages after all. Still, at present he seemed perfectly content to peruse his book which was a dissertation on euclidean geometry. He hums absently to himself, he was bad at parties and had no desire to get wrapped up in what was going on at the moment. For now he'd read and mind his own business unless directly addressed.