With Highest Distinction
@clockworksoul
She tries to focus on what's being said, but it's difficult. It's not that she's incapable of understanding or applying herself, but perhaps she is fooling herself. She's struggling. She knows this is a once in a lifetime chance, and she is losing grasp of her opportunity. It wasn't as if this was anything new. Growing up was more of the same.
As a child, studies were always the last thing on her mind. She wanted to go on adventures. She wanted to be like the daring individuals in the stories father had told her. Her mind whisked her away to dreams of cities above the clouds, and nightly runs across rooftops, sword battles, sailing...
Sitting here now, as an adult, there were no more excuses. She had faced disappointment, along with every ounce of bitterness life had to offer. Dreams had turned to nightmares. She stares out the window which overlooks the rooftops of Dunwall. It's not the city she remembers years ago, it's making progress, a step in the right direction, finally, but it didn't get there over night. She is only vaguely aware of a voice prompting her- she'd rather be anywhere but here in this moment- but it pesters her like a bloodfly until she realizes that the condescending tone beckoning her return belongs to none other than her professor, who posed to her a question, no doubt caring less about her answer but more to draw attention to the fact that someone out there in a sea of students who would also undoubtedly fail his course, wasn't paying attention to him. That student was Emily Kaldwin.
Her mouth is parted for a moment, and she stares back at the room full of eyes now settled onto her. It's clear she has no idea what's been discussed thus far, and her book is several pages behind, but still she makes an attempt to save face.
"...Sorry, would you mind repeating your question?"
Oh certainly, it wasn't as if many students could answer him outright the first time regardless, their comprehension of the material was pathetic. So he indulges her, it's not as if whatever she says will be the answer he's looking for. She is to be made an example of, nothing more.
"Ms. Kaldwin: in the given design, would you want to use hydraulic or pneumatic pressure?"
Emily takes in his question more carefully then, considering what's been displayed on the board. "...Well, I would use pneumatic pressure." It is the incorrect answer, of course. He tells her so, gladly. Well, perhaps not gladly, she's never seen him delighted in any normal capacity or sense of the word. Gleefully smug, perhaps. After all, he is planes above everyone else in terms of scientific brilliance. The more she considers his response however, the more she convinces herself that she simply can't let it go. She doesn't want to admit that she spent the rest of the period plotting out a debate against her professor, but that is essentially what she's done up until it ends. She gathers her books into her satchel and she marches up to his desk while the other students file out into the hall. "Professor Jindosh, may I have a word? Regarding the question you asked me earlier, I still don't understand why my answer was incorrect. In fact... I would even argue that it wasn't."
