Logs:Lean Staffing
| Lean Staffing | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-10-10 Ryan's going to be so proud so so proud no time at all and look at my career growth. |
| Location
<XAV> Teachers' Lounge - Xs Basement | |
Running a school for mutant teenagers just taking control of their powers is not an easy job, and the teachers at Xavier's deserve a place to come and relax. This lounge is their place to come and de-stress, and it does not skimp for relaxation. The room is elegant and luxurious, plush couches making up the seating in the lounge and a glossy glassy bar wrapping around one wall, well-stocked with alcohol (and perpetually fresh-brewed coffee, for those so inclined.) A large-screen high-def television hangs on one wall, stocked with about as many movies and games as the childrens' rec room upstairs. High bookshelves hold a wealth of books. The fridge here is always well stocked, and the cook is always willing to make deliveries down to this level. Far in the back, a hot tub is submerged into the floor, for still more unwinding. More days than not, there's some variety of snacks to be found on perched on an end of the bar -- quite often in the form of fresh-baked desserts. The lounge has been quiet more often than not, lately. It's not that there aren't teachers around to use it, but something of the camaraderie among staff has been strained and missing, as time wears on. Halim never had much camaraderie to begin with, so his presence down here this evening isn't exactly encouraging any conviviality; he's had the lounge to himself for a while and seems content enough that way. He's been sipping slowly at some herbal tea and frowning at nothing in particular, really, eyes blankly fixed in front of him. The television is on, volume too low to actually be particularly audible. It's flicking rapidly through a number of Netflix offerings, switching over to Max, flicking through that catalog too before moving on to Hulu. The door opens, slow and steady with the push of the automatic door opening button. Halim's peace is disturbed by a rustle, a flap of wings, entirely Too Much bird for this indoor space before Horus alights on the back of the couch just by Halim's head. His wings shift, quiet and fidgety, and his talons dig into the Nice Upholstery. He's turning his head one way and then another, fixing one eye on the rapidly shifting television screen. His beak clacks, talons clenching with a faint crrrrktear of fabric. The TV freezes in place, stopped on Abbot Elementary. Halim also freezes in place, stopped exactly where he is. His head turns up slowly, and he's giving a long contemplation to the strong clack of Horus's beak. The TV flips again, this time back to Max before pulling up Los Espookys. Horus stops his clacking, giving a sudden pleased warble at this new choice of show. His feathers ruffle up large, head bobbing several times. His beak stabs this time in the general direction of the remote, somewhat imperiously. He settles lower where he's sitting, legs mostly disappearing beneath a fluffed up layer of feathers. He is flipping his tablet downward; not long afterwards there is a text coming through to wherever on earth Halim receives his texts.
The show starts playing. Not from the beginning, but several episodes in where Horus's own tablet last left off. A text comes in reply almost the same moment that Horus's is received.
Aloud, a moment later: "You don't also do drawing, do you? Or painting." Horus is still bobbing, smaller but noticeable in place. He gives a sharp squawk at the voiced question, a rapid clackclackclack of beak. His wings spread wide, and give an indicative flap before pulling back in. "Mngh." Halim's tight curls have not been at all ruffled by the flapping but he lifts a hand to pat down at them anyway. "Right. Pity." There's a very brief pause. "Chemistry? Chin... mnn. I guess not that either." Another quick clacking, this one actually accompanied by a small burbling trill that maybe parses a little more legibly like laughter to human ears. Horus's bobbing stops, and he cranes his neck down over Halim's shoulder before pulling back with a deeply disappointed slow outward puffing of feathers around his head.
Halim glances up to Horus, briefly. His eyes pull forward again, and he sips at his tea. Horus's tablet is sprouting a new window, pulling up an internal faculty database for the school. Then pulling up several classes with no current assigned teachers. "We've had trouble keeping substitutes." This is Halim's voice, still, though now it comes from Horus's tablet speakers as Halim drinks his tea. "It's already impacting many students' credits for the term. Might have another riot if any more of them have to retake classes." Maybe this is why his brows are pinching in serious thought before he speaks (with his own mouth, a little disgruntled): "The students also have Google Translate." Even so the database is pulling up Chemistry like the tablet is very much considering going for it. Horus squawks loud and indignant when his tablet begins to speak in not his voice. He eyes it one direction, tilts his head far to the side to eye it another direction. Shuffles slightly to the side as if this couple-inches difference in space now would stop the technopath from hijacking his voice again. He's still a little fidgety-cautious when he lowers his head to pull his AAC up, now, his voice... no more indignant than it ever is, slow and rich. That's my voice my my my voice don't go stealing people's voices. His feathers are still ruffling. Whatever bit of miffed he's feeling isn't enough to prevent his eager willingness to bite of Way More than he can chew, though, pouncing excitedly on this new potential opportunity. I can read I can learn I can do so much so much chemistrying. Ryan's going to be so proud so so proud no time at all and look at my career growth. Can I have a raise. "Proud." Halim echoes this and shakes his head. "Mmm. I don't handle raises." It's not exactly a no. He is assigning Horus to the chemistry class -- marking him as a contacted substitute rather than simply adding the class to his actual regular faculty workload, which does, fully incidentally of course, add an extra bump to his pay that would not likely have been there if Halim had added the class more regularly. Do you handle staffing, comes Horus's next question, deep and sonorous as he flicks uncertainty at the database entry. Oh terrible time terrible terrible time that's a good good good sunning hour, though after this Horus is ducking his head and reconsidering this objection. No okay no I will teach all the chemicals very very very responsibly at the bad bad hour. "I just handled a staffing." The database closes. Halim holds his teacup a little bit tighter. "Jean is gone. Storm is gone. Scott is gone. Kind of an all hands situation." Horus flaps his wings again. Pointedly. Halim just looks over at Horus, very steady and very blank. Horus's wings mantle out further, his head tipping down so that he can eye Halim right back. "All limbs," Halim relents. "And that's not even getting into the Joshua issue. At least the contractors are already here to renovate the old dorms, patching up yesterday's classroom disaster won't be too much extra time." Horus folds his wings back in, his ruffling deflating gradually. He's returned to watching the television for a few minutes, silent except for the occasional fidgeting shift where he stands, talons prickling at the upholstery again. Too too long, eventually breaks the silence. I had so so many jokes so many jokes I was practicing them for when Shane asked why I'm here. The rustle of his feathers is small, this time. Then: It was only one classroom just one gone we aren't doing so bad. Halim presses his lips tight together. He sinks back in the seat, his head giving just one small shake as the volume on the TV turns itself up a little higher. | |
