Headlines

Posted on Sun Jan 25th, 2026 @ 17:22 by Claire Cavendish & Rebecca McMillen

Chapter: Gobsmacked
Location: Avalon Institute, Art Room
Timeline: Friday, 12th of March, 1993
1417 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

A soft rap on the doorpost to the art room was enough, this Claire knew from experience. The Head Mistress waited for the mousey art teacher to acknowledge her presence before stepping into the room. "It's good to see we're all getting back to our old routines." She inclined her head at the canvast in front of the woman, "what are you working on?"

Rebecca almost heard the steps before the knock, but she found that telling people to come in before they asked was a little unnerving to some. She called out for Claire to enter after the knock. "The old routines are safe." the mousey blonde offered with the soft beginning of a smile, moving slightly so Claire could get a better view. "Something that just came to me. It's probably going to wind up in my personal collection." the piece was far from finished, but enough of it was there to get an idea from the pencil sketch she was painting. Two stuffed animals: A bear and a mouse. Traditional browns for the bear, but it looked like Rebecca was having trouble deciding on a color for the mouse. Some of the water colors had been allowed to run a bit, like the subjects were in the rain. Warm colors were starting to be used near the top right corner, as though the sun or a warm light were coming through.

"A personal piece. Something that just.... came to me."

Claire nodded a bit as she looked it over. For all her aristocratic upbringing she never could really appreciate art properly, or so her mother repeatedly told her. "I'm sure it'll turn out amazing." There was an itch in the back of her mind as she looked at the stuffed animals portrayed. She definitely remembered seeing the mouse somewhere. "How are you holding up? Considering... you know."

Rebecca was quiet for a moment, as though considering her words. "I'm.... I'm here." she paused, "My home was attacked, and I didn't run. People were depending on me, and I didn't let them down." she said, listing her achievements as though to support her current status. She paused. "I..... I met up with my sister. She's... she's not in a good place, but..." Rebecca dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the least paint covered part of a rag.

"You stood tall." Claire closed the distance between them and put a hand on the young woman's shoulder, "if there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to let me know." She felt the newspaper in her hand, wondering if this was the best moment to bring it up. "How have the students been?"

Rebecca didn't flinch for the first time in a long time. With the danger behind them, she was either too tired or too confident to reflexively give in to a moment's fear. "Thank you. I might take you up on that." she offered, before letting go of the breath she was holding. "The students are.... they're going to be alright I think. Some of them are scared, still. Some don't know how to process that fear, so I'm thinking of grabbing some scrap paper and seeing if some mild therapy might help. Have the students sketch or color something that represents their fear of the whole ordeal. The threat of the registration, the terror of the siege.... just have them put to paper some avatar of that. Nothing masterpiece level, just a physical representative, then we'll take everyone's fears and apprehensions and start a small fire, and make a physical show of letting them go. Facing our fears and overcoming them."

"So, if the offer to help is sincere, I might need permission to have a small bonfire on grounds." she turned to Claire and gave a smile. Soft, small, muted. That probably wasn't what she was going to use this cash in help for...

Claire immediately nodded, "I'll even light the fire for you. Check with William what a good place might be to set up." The school grounds were large enough, and with the continued rain and fog everything around them was wet enough not to immediately be cause for concern. "I might even have something to put on the fire myself." She then took the newspaper she had been carrying and showed a headline she had folded over.

Family of three left hospitalised after home invasion

That in and of itself wouldn't raise any big concerns, if it wasn't for the fact that some of the details in the further story seemed to indicate that Rebecca might know the particular home that got invaded. The article itself even alleged Mutant involvement, pure speculation based off of the family's history with one of their estranged daughters years back.

Rebecca read the headline, and knew the rest of the story. "She came to me." Rebecca said. Perhaps she had hinted before, but the time for subtlety was past. "She needed something, an icon. The GOU had her.... she forms bonds with things, it's how she works. It's her...."

Of all the words Rebecca hated as a euphemism for Mutant Powers, all of them were horrible now.

"It's what she does. She needed a new one, so I loaned her Mister Squeaks." the painting she was working on might have made more sense now. "No amount of 'It wasn't me' would make up for what she had done." Rebecca paused, and looked harshly at the paper. "They're monsters. This... this won't change their mind. It'll only make them hate more, but pain and hurt make people do things. For some, they lash out. For others, they run away across England." she admitted.

"I know she's not welcome here. Not yet."

Claire frowned at that, "I think some people might have their reservations, but make no mistake, when I say Avalon is a safe haven I mean it." In her experience exclusion had never really resolved anything, just like violence only begot more violence. That wasn't to say there'd be no consequences or anything for her actions. "I'm sorry that this is happening to your family. Regardless of your past together, I can imagine it's tough to have to deal with this." A soft smile, "I, for one, am glad you took the road less travelled."

"She hurt people. She..." Rebecca didn't finish. The excuse of 'she wasn't in control of her own actions' could only stretch so far before it snapped. At Claire's last statement, though, she managed a smile. "You know, they call it the road less travelled, but there are a LOT of people on that path."

"And, thank you." she motioned to the paper for a moment. "Things are.... rough. Things at home were always rough."

If ever there was a relatable sentiment it was that one. Obviously Claire had it rough in a very different way, and under very different circumstances, but rough kind of covered it. "And somehow a lot of those paths converge here in the Highlands." She smiled, "let me know when you need someone to vent to about rough times. Or..." she gestured at the painting, "colour schemes."

Rebecca was silent for a moment, considering. "It's eerie how many roads lead to the Highlands." she agreed. "For such an out of the way place, it's right in the way of so much. I... I just can't stand the thought of moving again. Leaving again. Running again." she turned to fully face Claire, "I'm not the same woman I was when I snuck into the wine cellar. I ... I want to do more to help. If there's ever anything you need of me, I want you to know you can always ask. I don't know if I'll be the right person, but I'll be the person you asked." she gave a nod. "We're all in this together."

"I'll keep it in mind." Claire wanted to include more people in the Knights, especially after this whole affair she realised that more people in the faculty should be in the loop, that she should look back at the school motto she had translated into Gaelic by a local scholar and had carved in the gate over the bridge, Tha barrachd annad. She shook that thought when Rebecca added the last phrase, "Reminds me of the three musketeers, all for one, and one for all. It's a wonderful sentiment." She gave a simply nod in return, "I'll leave you to your art, Miss McMillen."