A new symphony in six cylinders

Posted on Sat Oct 14th, 2023 @ 19:28 by Alastair Temple & Claire Cavendish

Chapter: All Hallow's Eve
Location: Avalon castle grounds, main entrance
Timeline: November 3rd
2034 words - 4.1 OF Standard Post Measure

The guttural roar of the two-liter inline six resonated through the countryside. Gleaming, shimmering under the light of the sun, the twenty year old car - one of only 197 produced of this model - ripped across the roads. Speeding a bit - what was life without a little thrill, after all - approaching the stone bridge leading to the castle. His destination. Avalon, school for the gifted.

Upon reaching the bridge, the car stopped. The engine idled for a few moments before shutting down as well, as the door opened and the Skyline 'Kenmeri's driver stepped out to take in the sight. Sunglasses covered keen blue eyes, long black hair waving slightly in the breeze, the tall man gazed at the castle, a soft smile playing on handsome features - almost hidden by a wealth of luxurious facial hair.

"Not bad," his baritone murmured.

After a moment longer he got back into his car, closed the door behind him and started the engine again - juiced up slightly from stock; new and bigger carburetors for better fueling, a high flow air inlet and filter, finally some work done on the headers to bring the power up from a modest 160 Japanese ponies (though potent for its age) to a smooth 190. That was enough for such an old car, he would argue. He was no racing driver. He was an enjoyer.

And so Alastair Temple would approach Avalon castle, heralded by the throaty exhaustnote of his beloved, pearl white not-quite-yet-an-oldtimer.

As the loud car approached the gates across the bridge said gates remained solidly closed. The loud engine had attracted some attention on the other side but none of them had the authority to order the door opened. When the car came to a halt near the entrance a man took a confident slow stroll closer. "Nice ride. What's it doing on our driveway?" The man seemed like your every day grunt guarding a gate until a second pair of eyelids blinked shut in anticipation of an answer.

The engine shut off, with the car's driver emerging once more. He was a tall, slender man, wearing quite a dapper, almost victorian inspired, gentleman's outfit of black and maroon. Brocade added an air of luxury and wealth, though something about this man made it clear that he was far from one of those stuffy rich guys. Maybe the fact that he looked like that while driving a - wonderfully preserved - twenty year old Japanese sportscar instead of a luxury sedan like a Rolls Royce or Bentley. Or indeed that he drove himself, rather than be driven by a chauffeur.

"Name's Alastair Temple," he called out, catching the gate warden's double set of eyelids, but taking it completely in stride. "Word on the street is that this here school is full of - well, my people," he smiled a rogueish smile. "I'm looking for a place to stay, and maybe find work." Though Lord knows he didn't need it, after his career and selling his house. But it felt good to be useful, rather than stew in misery, alone in an empty, dark place.

"You got an appointment then, lad?" The guard leaned forward and looked inside the car. "I'm sure you can appreciate the fact that we're not exactly keen on strangers driving up, cars full of unknown contents." If this man was indeed one of their own he'd have to be aware of the recent goings on in both London and the Scottish Highlands. All eyes were on them, and there were but a few types of people that would willingly drive up to a place like that.

The car was half full with the regular things someone would need when planning to stay somewhere for a long time. A few changes of clothes in various bags, toiletries (helps when you were as vain as Alastair), but most notably, three guitars - two electric and one acoustic - along with an amp and various cables and pedals. Alastair quirked a brow, giving a shrug. "Appointment? No. Not directly," and that rogueish smile returned again. "I suppose I should prove that I am an ally, then~"

And with that he closed his eyes, concentrating for a moment, before his body seemed to implode in a burst of black feathers. Clothes fell to the ground, though out of the pile stepped a large raven - considerably larger than a regular one. The bird regarded the gate guard for a moment, tilting its beaked head and letting out a low croak as if to say 'see?', before reaching for his pants with its beak and changing back, stepping into his pants to regain his - modesty.

"You should've done that on stage." The voice was more softly spoken, and it was clear that it didn't need volume to instil authority. "Your next classes are starting, people." Claire looked over her shoulder at the gate, the kids still staring at this weird guy that just drove up and burst into a ball of feathers. "Mister Temple. I didn't know we could count you as one of our own." She stepped up and reached out a violet hand. "Claire Cavendish. Head Teacher."

"Ms Cavendish," he replied as he took her hand and gave it a polite shake. "You'll understand why I don't show off that trick in front of crowds of thousands, given the current sociopolitical climate we find ourselves in," he added, matter of factly, though his voice soft and understanding. He quickly put on his maroon button-up shirt again, always finding it a bit awkward to revert back to his human shape in front of other people. "I'm looking for a place to stay, maybe make myself useful."

"I hope you understand that by stepping through this gate I won't be able to protect that particular part of your identity." Claire still had the departure of another fresh in her mind as she pointed it out. People that wanted to remain in the shadows, especially about their mutant nature, did well to avoid the bright spotlight currently shining down on Avalon.

"I do," was Al's ready and easy reply. He reached down for his brocade vest, the next item of clothing to reapply, while awkwardly talking through the gate with this purple skinned woman. "I heard about your institute through the news, the recent attack, how you harbor mutants and stand for mutant rights and acceptance," He turned more serious now.

"After a - recent-ish tragedy I fell into a proverbial hole, of sorts. A hole I needed to climb out of. And then I heard about your school. So I decided to sell my house and everything in it, sell my second car and just drive over. Bridges burned, new chapter in the life of Al Temple. No more hiding in the shadows, afraid of how people will see me. And if I can use my skills to do good for myself and my people, help create a safe space, all the better," he offered, putting his wool tailcoat back on, that rogueish smile returning, though now with tired eyes.

The head teacher stepped back away from the gate before motioning for someone out of view to open it for the newcomer. "Staff parking is directly off to the left. Unless you want the kids to take it apart and put it back together you're better off not leaving it behind in the garage." Claire motioned in the direction she was talking about before starting to walk there herself, after two or three steps the air seemed to sizzle and with an audible pop she disappeared from view.

He raised his finger and opened his mouth to ask a question, but found himself without an audience as he did. Well, without the appropriate audience, at the least. So he got back into his car, which growled back to life even before the door thudded closed. He followed the directions, driving to where Claire had indicated staff parking would be. Staff parking - so she was offering him a job. Or, at least, something to keep him busy.

It was unclear, even to herself, why exactly Claire teleported away when she did. It seemed nonchalant, perhaps suave even. Not something she felt like she had to be in front of people, with the exception perhaps of rock icons that just came out as mutants in front of her. She waited for the white car to round the corner and pointed over at an empty parking bay. "That doesn't sound like it's all stock parts." it was a bit of a guess on her part, but given the context she felt it was a safe one.

He parked where bade, though when he got out of the car he focused his attention on Claire again. "You'd be right. I tickled it a bit, makes 30 ponies over stock. Sounds better, too. Good ear," he smiled, though quickly turning more serious. "Ok, two questions. One - staff parking? So you're offering me a job? Two - you said Cavendish? As in, douc - erm, Duke Cavendish?"

Claire couldn't help but suppress a smirk at the barely contained dig at her father. There was ample opportunity for her to jump on and make abundantly clear where she stood in relation to him. But as always it was more complicated than that, not in the least due to her upbringing and her current role as head teacher of this institute. She felt like she was a role model, even when there wasn't anyone but this strange Goth around to see her roll. "You mentioned you were looking to make yourself useful, I assumed it was for longer than the next twenty-four hours. There's things to consider, of course, but staff parking seemed the most logical place to start." She put her hands behind her as she tried to find the proper words to speak on her father. "Anthony Cavendish is my father, although if you were to ask him I'm sure he'd vehemently deny it. Unless he can twist it somehow to suit his agenda."

"Yeah, I can see how there would be some friction in the family," he agreed. "As for work - I was hoping for long term, yeah. I'm thinking I could be a driver, or mechanic. Or something with music, I've got the background for that too. Robert was always the head writer but I know some music theory."

There was a moment where it seemed to dawn on Claire exactly what goth rock icon she was talking to, or at least the mention of his band mate's name in combination with the earlier comments about having gone down a dark hole and having to climb out of it. "I'm sorry for your loss." It seemed odd perhaps in any other circumstance to offer a man driving up to your gates a job teaching kids that were entrusted into your care, but she'd always approached life a bit differently from her peers. It's what had gotten her to where she was today. "Due to recent events we've had some turnover in the performing arts, a music teacher would not go amiss in our preparations for the Winter's Crest Festival."

"Yeah. Thanks for the kind words," and he meant it, though saying it he just looked exhausted. Truth be told, he was. It had been a long drive, and shifting form twice had also taken a lot of energy. "Alright, music teacher it is. I guess that's a good enough fit," he added with a smile. "Thanks. For giving me a chance. I suppose I'll go rest up a bit, then get the lay of the land."

Claire nodded, "Everyone always deserves at least one." She motioned towards the main entrance, "I'll show you where you can lay your head."

"Awesome," he offered, hesitating a moment, trying to decide whether to take a bag from his car but deciding against it for now. Once he knew where his new space was he could go back and get his stuff at his own leisure. So he locked the car behind him, and followed, into a new chapter in his life.