Avalon Movie Theatre

Posted on Tue Jul 16th, 2024 @ 10:27 by Alastair Temple & Claire Cavendish

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Auditorium, Avalon Institute
Timeline: 23:30, Friday, 22nd of January, 1993
2318 words - 4.6 OF Standard Post Measure

It always seemed that the auditorium was in use for one thing or another. Claire could barely remember the last time she sat here and watched a film. The big projector screen and the audio installation really added an extra dimension that she couldn't get from her shoddy CRT. A way to fully immerse oneself in the film, to forget the world around her. Right now she could do with some proper forgetting. So she stepped inside the auditorium, VHS in one hand, popcorn in the other and a bottle of soda squeezed between her elbow and ribs. She didn't expect anyone to be there at this hour, so the surprise when she was met with soft tones of an amplified guitar was enough to stop her in the doorway.

The sweet, melancholy melody of Dire Straights' Private Investigations echoed through the auditorium. Al liked to come here when it was quiet and abandoned and just play. It helped him think. The amp and speakers were matched beautifully to the natural acoustics of the space. He was used to attracting an audience of one or two students, maybe a fellow faculty, from time to time - wanderers in the night like him, who needed some time to think, or just unwind. Alastair Temple was all too happy to provide.

He glanced up as he spotted movement, noticing Claire in the doorway. A simple nod and half a smile, before he returned to his silent thinking, to the tune of that classic ballad.

Slowly Claire walked further into the room, wondering if she was imposing, if she should just go back to her personal quarters and watch on the small screen, or if she could wait out Al before her popcorn grew stale. She took a seat in one of the comfortable seats facing the podium, putting the popcorn on the side table. She sat back and decided to just enjoy the ballad being played, even though she wasn't a huge Dire Straits fan.

Al stopped playing as he saw what Claire was doing, and what she had planned. A VHS tape was an unmistakable clue to what she had in mind. He unplugged his guitar - his own personal signature one - and carried it with him to sit down next to Claire. "Hey Boss lady," his rich baritone rumbled. "Whatcha wanting to watch?" he asked, indicating the tape.

Claire looked at the cover for the VHS she'd taken along, "Alien 3". She had wished that she could've watched it with the woman that had watched the first two with her on this couch as well, but she had chosen a different path when Avalon was forced into the limelight. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"You know, I've been meaning to watch that," Al began, pausing a moment as if contemplating his next words. "Though I wouldn't presume to invite myself to a watchalong. Besides, I'd probably distract you from experiencing the movie with things I'd wanted to poke your brain about regarding this new legislation they've pushed through."

"Watching movies in a venue like this is an inherently social endeavour." Claire moved over into the corner of the seat to allow room for Alastair to take up residence on the other side of it. "I dressed as Ripley for Halloween." It wasn't necessarily an indication of how much of a fan she was of the franchise, but perhaps enough of one to let him know that this wouldn't be the first time she'd be viewing this latest entry. "So, poke away I guess."

He set his guitar against the outside of the seat before taking up said residence, considering his words for a moment before speaking. "Part of me agrees with part of the new laws. Like - in other parts of Europe you can have a gun, as a civilian, provided you register said gun and keep it in a gun safe. I think that makes sense, and is readily translatable to mutants with powers. That way the government knows what mutants have what powers, which makes it easier to investigate, if something goes wrong."

"But there's another part of me that disagrees with the same laws. It's a clear breach of privacy. Plus, a gun owner can go out and do things while leaving his gun at home. We can't go out without our abilities. Some of which are completely harmless, but just because we have them, we're lumped in to one big pile," Alastair shrugged a bit. "So, honestly? I'm not too sure what to think regarding that part of the new legislation."

Claire had to stop herself from immediately jumping on the opportunity to tell him exactly every single way that the new legislation was discriminatory, a slippery slope, and in some ways a declaration of war in the eyes of people like the Sherwoord Rangers, and how in this instance she couldn't even blame them. Registration today, walled off camps tomorrow. "People have always had difficulties handling change, and the leap evolution has made in recent years, at least in the public eye, has them scared. They are trying to control what is fundamentally uncontrollable."

Claire's reply seemed to amuse Alastair, though perhaps not in the way she might think. "Such a political answer. Say some truthism that nobody denies, while disregarding the actual things I said," he said, though his tone showed he wasn't upset. "I know people can respond in weird ways to things that seem scary. I made a name performing deathmetal, remember? Been called a Satanist more than a few times - and while I find the texts of Anton LaVey inspirational, his belief in things like the power of ritual go a bit far for my taste. Plus, he promotes belief in 'magick'," Alastair snickered. "'Magic doesn't exist' said the man who turns into a large raven to the woman who teleports to shadows."

"Would you rather I'd tell you what to think about the new legislation?" Claire quipped back. She shook her head, indicating that was the last thing she'd be doing. "Gun control is about people voluntarily picking up a device specifically designed to harm other people. And quite frankly this country could do with a little more control over it." She took a few moments to carefully consider how she wanted to phrase the next part of her thought, "Mutant Registration is about controlling individuals who happen to be different from the ruling majority. Mutants with destructive powers isn't a registration issue, it's a guidance issue. You can't do mutant registration and not offer additional mental health support for those it forces into the spotlight."

"See, that's the kind of answer I was hoping for," Alastair smiled, though a tired smile, one with a troubling weight behind it. "You're right, of course. I just needed to hear it I guess," he explained, with a shrug. "And there's the slippery slope aspect of course as well. Now this, what next?" A slight pause, though he continued before she could reply. "Plus, in the sad, violent history of mankind, there has never been a time where the people in power systematically identifying and categorizing a minority have ever turned out to be the good guys." Beat. "This'll give me a lot of fuel to write about though. If I'm not careful I might turn into a political musician. Behold, the next Rage against the Machine."

Claire wasn't familiar with the band he named, but the name in and of itself already gave away much of the intent of the band's songs. She wanted to say it wasn't her intention to convince anyone of her world views, but she had sunken a significant chunk her capital, and that of her anonymous benefactor, into setting up an institute with the express purpose to do just that. In this instance though, it was such a knife's edge she needed to walk. She didn't want to disenfranchise anyone, even if her personal believes were screaming inside about how wrong it all was. "There's very few reasons why you'd have to document individuals in a minority, none of them good. And I must admit being in Avalon it's sometimes difficult to remember we're still very much in a minority. It makes places like Genosha so appealing."

"Genosha is just as bad. Mutant first? We're all humans. We're all worth the same," Al scoffed, shaking his head. "I've had discussions about things like this with my kids, in class. In the guise of music, of course. Some of them seemed to believe that because I love metal that must mean I think other genres of music are beneath me. They're not. There's a place for each and every one of them, and while I don't like some of them, that doesn't mean I think they should be excluded or limited. Just - if I go to a metal concert I don't expect house, and if I go to a rave, I don't expect metal."

Claire couldn't really disagree with the sentiment, she hadn't been enticed for some very similar reasons to what he was saying. "There's people that find comfort in knowing that if they go to a place they won't be confronted with.. metal.. ever again." She knew how she felt when walking the streets in a place like New Cresthill. London was better in that people tended to ignore each other more, which felt like a small consolation. She wasn't tolerated, just ignored. Something that was less and less likely to happen now that the government was telling them it was okay to call out mutants and brand them. "I can see the appeal, not for myself, but I realise there's a couple of our students, and even a member of staff that didn't come back from the winter holiday because they plan on moving there."

"A lot of people find comfort in a lot of things that a lot of other people find discomfort in. That's the issue. Where does it end? Everyone should be free, to - ... spread their - .... proverbial - " Al trailed off, furrowing his brows. He reached into a pocket and produced a notepad and a pen, starting to write, quietly murmuring the words as he did. "Longing to fly, to dance free, - .... on raven wings, through the sky - ... and the trees, across the mountains, - ... but my wings are clipped - ... and I ... ask why~" He read the words back to himself, quietly, before putting the notepad away. "Sorry 'bout that. The creative process at work."

There was a simple shake of the head to indicate that it wasn't an intrusion. Claire had always had admiration for those in the creative fields. She wasn't someone that could easily conjure up evocative lyrics or storylines. "It's a slippery slope, for sure, both ways. The question is how far does that freedom go? When does freedom, like regulation, start infringing upon other people's rights?" She felt there was a lot more leeway to that side of the argument, but she knew also to consider the motivations of people trying to restrict things. One had to know the arguments of the opposition to properly debate them. "I will say that I do not envy the government's job in this. That said, I believe they are doing a terrible job of it."

"Well, I've always liked the saying 'your freedom ends where mine begins, and my freedom ends where yours begins'. Sure it doesn't work for every situation, but generally speaking as long as you act in good faith, its a truism that seems to hold up," the man shrugged, inclining his head a bit. "One thing is for sure, this whole thing is a very fertile ground for writing music and lyrics."

"And movies filled with allegories in a year or two." Claire agreed. It seemed that the more you suppressed a people the more loudly the cultural protests became. That was of course the reason for all the book burning and cultural censorship in authoritarian governments. She offered the bowl of popcorn in his direction as the sound of the studio title cards caught their attention from the large screen. "Let's hope they'll have a happy ending."

"Yeah ... " Alastair obviously had some thoughts, thoughts that seemed to trouble him a bit. After a moment's hesitation he spoke up again. "Look Claire, I know I'm pretty naive in some ways, since I never had a proper education. I know I don't understand the first thing about politics, for instance," Another brief pause.

"One thing I do know is this, that the human heart is indomitable. Unfortunately this means that of our enemies. But it also means our friends. The ones who stand besides us. I also know that, in the end, nothing matters more than the kids. And I think I know you're fixing to cause some trouble. Kick some cans, rattle some chains," He reached a sizable, warm hand over to rest on hers for a moment as his expression lifted, forming into a smile. "Some cans deserve kicking. Some chains need rattling. And as metalhead, I'm never averse to making some noise, causing a bit of trouble."

"What I'm trying to say is, whatever you decide to do, I'm one hundred percent with you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Alastair." Claire was looking at the screen, contemplating exactly what that meant. He wasn't going to be the only one that would want to follow her lead, but there was a very high likelihood that her lead would only pave the way to a quick incarceration. It was something that she had to do, to get some demons of her past out of the shadows and into the cleansing sunlight. "Let's make sure we can protect the students, whatever we decide to do."