Black and Blue

Posted on Tue Oct 31st, 2023 @ 16:15 by Jonathan Monroe & Alastair Temple

Chapter: All Hallow's Eve
Location: Faculty Lounge
Timeline: November 4th
1119 words - 2.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Preparing for classes had almost been an afterthought, following the incident with the Sherwood Rangers. In some ways, a return to normality should have been a welcome relief, yet for many of the faculty and the students, there remained a strange atmosphere around the place; some wanting revenge, others afraid of more reprisals. For Jon, a distraction was helpful.

There were new faces to welcome, too. Claire had evidently not stopped the recruitment efforts - or perhaps had increased them, in hope of bolstering their numbers perhaps - so every so often there was a new person to welcome. One that immediately caught his eye in the faculty lounge was the new fellow with the extravagant facial hair. Pouring himself a coffee, Jon gave a courteous nod of his head.

"The good stuff is at the back of the shelf, behind the cracked mug. Oh, and don't touch the green mug; that's Rebecca's. She's the one who turns into a mouse, so...taking your chances with that one." He smiled warmly.

"And I turn into a raven. We hunt mice," Alastair grinned. "Though, I've met Rebecca. She's far too sweet to hurt," he made sure to add as he kicked out the chair opposite him, as an invitation to join him. "Alastair Temple, new music teacher." His chosen outfit today was not his regular victorian gothic inspired getup; instead he sported combat boots, distressed black jeans and a band-shirt with a Queen logo on it. Nice, simple and comfortable.

"Birds and rodents..." Jonathan mused, stirring his coffee with a spoon. As someone with the ability to warm his own beverage without a kettle, he still took the time to properly blend it. One of those rituals he'd never lost. "A little more complicated than 'I set things on fire'," he added. "But a bird - sorry, a raven - is a new one."

"Long as you don't start calling me birdbrain we'll get along just fine," Al chuckled at his own joke. He also had a coffee, but also a sandwich - today was a hungry day - though he had to use the heat that the coffeemaker put in to it. That was all he ever was going to have. "You make fire?" Al had overheard conversations about a firestarter that had gotten a bit out of control during the attack, but he didn't know any details.

As was his traditional introduction to all the new faculty, it seemed, Jonathan snapped his fingers and let out a lick of blue flame. "Just as long as you don't be calling me 'hothead'," he said. "Though I suspect I might be sprinkling a few Edgar Allan Poe references in. English teacher, and all."

"'Nevermore', right? I've never read it to be honest," Alastair offered, taking another sip of his coffee, observing the other man. Short hair, trimmed beard - more a 5 o'clock shadow, really - such a contrast to himself. This seemed to amuse him, slightly. Though he sobered up again when he remembered why he'd never read The raven. Or any Poe, really. He'd barely had an education, having been kicked out of christian school when his powers manifested. Maybe here he could complete at least his basic education. "Been wanting to, though," he added.

"There's a library somewhere in the castle, if you can find it." Jon replied. "Exploring is half the adventure. Though I hear Mr Rochester has a lady stashed somewhere in the tower." He chuckled to himself at yet another slightly lame literary reference. "Not a reader, then?"

This question, innocent and perfectly cromulent as it was, caused Al pause. What would he answer? Simply say 'no'? Or explain a little bit about why not? That would have to go in to more detail than he really wanted to, so instead of simply shrugged with an apologetic halfsmile and said "Never really took the time to read," which was a half truth, for the most part. Never took the time to read literature. "Just, you know, music theory. Knowledge could bring with me on stage."

"Well, I can't promise you'll get the time here. But you might consider working with the resident English teacher on reading assignments for the students," Jonathan grinned. "Always happy to collaborate on educational initiatives."

"Yeah, I might check in some time. When I'm not teaching, myself," Al smiled, taking another sip of his coffee. "Speaking of, I've never taught before. Should be interesting. Need to set up a curriculum, get materials - already got a few instruments sitting in my car to set up, but I'm gonna need a lot more than that."

"Claire can set you up with a stipend, if you need materials. Some things she might already have, or have a way of procuring," Jonathan replied thoughtfully. "My advice, though? No need to rush. Especially with what the students have had to deal with lately. I feel like they need a calmer space."

"A wise man once said, Art is how we decorate space, music is how we decorate time," Al offered. "Personally, I'd add stories and poems to that list, too. A calm space is good, but what people need is an outlet. And they need to see that life goes on, despite everything. The world doesn't stop turning," The man hoped that what he was saying had wisdom. He truly believed his words though. And God knew he knew a thing or two about needing to recover from bad and traumatic incidents. It was the whole reason and motivation behind him being here, after all.

Jonathan considered himself the recent conversations he had had with various students - and faculty - and found himself nodding in agreement. "Life goes on indeed," he ceded. Hell, most of Shakespeare worked on that theme. "Just promise me you'll keep the noise down, eh?"

"Can't promise that. Drum kits are loud," Al replied, honestly, though he seemed to seriously consider Jonathan's request. "Acoustic guitars and the piano aren't that loud, though. And the electrics you can turn the volume down or use with headphones. I'll schedule drum lessons when the surrounding classrooms are not in use, and I'll get with Claire, see if she'll let me add some soundproofing to my classroom. I can do that," he offered.

"Appreciate the thought," Jon nodded, saluting him with his mug. "And maybe when the end of term hits, you and I can collaborate on the Christmas pantomime?"

"Bob was always the composer. But, yeah, I'm sure I can come up with something. Sounds like fun," Al smiled. "Be nice to play for an audience again."