Logs:Long Term Plans
Long Term Plans | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2020-05-06 "Are you sure you don't want to...give it a chai?" |
Location
<XAV> Conservatory - Xs First Floor | |
Tall panes of glass and a many-gabled glass ceiling protect this large indoor garden from the elements, while welcoming in sunlight to keep it warm year-round. Adjoined to the southern face of the venerable mansion and surrounded by more conventional gardens beyond, the conservatory is all Old World elegance from the outside. Within, however, it is lush and green and in certain corners--whether despite its careful tending by the groundskeeper or because of it--seems practically wild. Footpaths and a burbling artificial steam wind through the space, connecting its disparate parts. Benches are scattered throughout, thorough soft grasses or mosses under certain trees also invite rest. The outside wall is lined with tropical and subtropical plants. The ferns and cycads and epiphytes are kept moist by artfully hidden misters that also give the place a sort of magical ambiance, dense foliage wreathed at times with drifting patches of mist. Nearest the building is a desert in miniature, with a few impressively sized cacti as well as palo verde and other trees adapted to arid climes. Between these, and by far the largest section, is dedicated temperate zone plantlife from around the world, the beds growing more carefully manicured and the pads less winding as one approaches the center, where a clearing with a small ring of seats is a popular spot for some teachers to hold court. "-- distant jazz reachin' my veranda on a clear spring evening." In Jax's molasses-thick Georgia drawl (layered on, at the moment, more heavily even than his norm) this somehow sounds even more Southern than it started out. At the moment, as the sun slowly starts to slip in the clouded sky outside and spills a greyish uncomforting light through the tall glass panes of the Conservatory, the art teacher is standing beside one of the low stone benches. Hand to his heart, reading dramatically from his phone before he turns it over to Matt. "Gosh, no, you just read the rest it's very -- Ryan." Unquestionably fond in this inflection. Dressed for work in a grey button-down, bright turquoise and purple highlighting at the underside of its collar and placket and its turned-up cuffs, and slacks, he's as brightly coloured as ever -- rainbow streaks in his black hair, shimmering black makeup with an iridescent oilslick sheen. On the bench he has just vacated there is a Tupperware of cookies and a thermos, both of which he's been ignoring as he dramatically recounts Ryan's screenshotted messages to Matt. "Shane is terrible." Warm amusement, too, in this statement. Sitting on the bench before Jax, Matt has been gleefully feasting on cookies through the dramatic reading, though now he's making grabby-hands at the proffered phone. "Oh my gods, this is a work of art," he gushes as his bright green eyes skim over the screen, his other hand lifting to cover his delighted smile though without quite making contact. He's wearing a pale lilac dress shirt--top button undone and the previously neat windsor knot in the purple paisley tie loosed a touch--slate gray vest, matching trousers, and polished black oxfords. His hair has started to grow back, a fine, soft brown fuzz over his pale scalp. All of him is pale, really, even more so than the naturally light cast of his skin, but he does not look particularly sickly anymore. "Ah, to be a fly on the wall! I don't suppose Shane would deign to snap a photo for our benefit?" He returns the phone to Jax with a sweet smile. Alexander stepped into the conservatory. His outfit was nothing spectacular, just a pair of faded jeans that had begun to fray at the ankle, an olive green polo, and a pair of sneakers that just so happened to match his shirt. Nothing too fancy, he wasn't here to impress anyone. His eyes golden hazel eyes caught sight of Jax and Matt and he had to stop for a moment register who they were. Alex wasn't on campus often enough to ever truly remember people. IT was always a face or a name. Seldom both. But nevertheless he painted on a smile and continued to walk in. "Ah! Good day gentlemen." "It would be almost negligent of me not to ask him." Jax takes the phone back to swipe out a quick message, but stops halfway through it. He half-turns, glancing back at Alexander as the other teacher approaches. One hand lifts towards his head -- a moment ago he was definitely not wearing a hat but now he is, a wide-brimmed black Stetson elaborately trimmed with multicoloured beadwork and a silver tassel. He tips the hat toward Alexander, replaces it neatly on his unruffled hair where it promptly disappears again. "Evenin', Alexander." There's still a heavy colouring of drawl in his voice, though not near so thickly laid on as it was a moment ago. "Cookie? It's mostly chai snickerdoodles left." "You're doing God's work." Matt lays his right hand over his heart and snags another cookie, though he doesn't stuff this one immediately into his mouth. "Hey there!" He flicks Alexander a lazy salute--with the cookie. "They're the most delicious chai snickerdoodles," he amends Jax's description. "How are you this damp and dreary eve?" Ale smiled and took a seat on an empty bench not far from the two. "No thanks, I'm not in the mood for cookies." A small chuckled escaped his throat as he looks at Jax. "Putting the accent on heavy today, aren't you?" Alex himself would have a small slip of a country/southern accent. Being from Kentucky certain words were obviously going to be spoken certain ways. But beyond that he practically didn't have one. Then he looked at Matt, "I'm doing ok. How about you two?" "Oh, I'm Southern each and every day, sugar." There's a wry amusement in Jax's voice, an easy smile on his face. A small and subtle shifting rearrangement from his abilities, sensible only to Matt. He picks up the tupperware, sets it lightly in Matt's lap as he drops himself down onto the bench in its place. "Oh, gosh, enjoyin' my freedom. Trying not to plot ways to lose it again so soon. I'm telling y'all though the world does not make it easy sometimes, one peek at the news and --" He just shakes his head, plucking a cookie for himself though not actually taking the container back from Matt. "Mm, are you sure you don't want to...give it a chai?" Matt waggles his eyebrows slightly at Alexander before taking an exaggerated demonstrative bite of the cookie he'd been waving around. He wraps a possessive arm around the container when Jax places it in his lap. "I'm enjoying the unexpected holiday from chemo-land, but getting ready to forge on in again. Alas for these luscious locks, no?" This with an elegant upturn of his hand to indicate his not-quite-bare scalp--half of a cookie held between thumb and middle finger still. "I'd like to say I have faith in your non-plotting, but..." He bumps his shoulder to Jax's, his smile gentle. "...your track record for staying out of trouble isn't stellar. Could this term be over soon enough?" This last question spoken in Alexander's direction, though it's broad enough. "I'm sure." Alexander chuckled as he watch Matt take a bite. He leaned back slightly and gave a small sigh. He enjoyed the conservatory, it was nice year round. "As for Jax's record of staying out of trouble, if what I hear around campus is anything to go by, I doubt it'll last long." The man looked at the two with a broad smile. "If," Jax echoes lightly. "Take it you don't watch much news, then? Gosh, must be bliss." His head tips down, colourful hair spilling over to briefly shade his eye. "My track record would be much better if the world didn't earn itself so much trouble. Anyway, I've given up on wishin' to fast-forward. Like -- I tried that all last year?" When he looks up again it's with a wider-eyed expression. "An' it only just brought us 2020 so that was a wash. This term can take its time. Unless," he hedges with a slight wrinkle of his brow, "you're really rarin' for more chemo." "Oh? What have people been saying around campus?" Matt leans forward, his eyes focusing with a sudden sharpness on Alexander. "I have sadly been deprived. I can't imagine anyone particularly minded to being saved from the pandemic, but I'm sure the professor was looking even more pinched than usual that --" He breaks off a fraction of a second before his phone starts vibrating wildly in his pocket and emitting an ear-piercing screen. The lights in the conservatory blink on and off, the sprinkler system suddenly going active and filling the air with a fine mist. "Ostie de tabernak de calisse..." He sets the container aside and rises, fumbling his phone out of his pocket in an attempt to shut it off. His gaze darts to Jax. "Where--who is that?" Alex looked at Matt's phone as it went wonky. And at the same time his went began to at weir in his back pocket. He pulled it out just in time for it stop and go quiet. "What in the world was that all about?!" Jax has been in the middle of swiping out another message on his own phone when it begins to fuss. His brows knit, lips compressing as he gets to his feet. "Gosh. An' Shane had just promised me pictures too, now where's my entertainment gonna come from?" He picks up the container of cookies, offers Matt his arm to help stand. "I can't tell who it come from but I suspect this is up your kinda alley. Want to go for a li'l stroll with me, honey-honey? Make sure nothing's on fire?" "Probably a student having a bad evening," Matt tells Alexander, leaning only slightly on Jax. "Goodness, a mission -- never a dull moment here! Do have a good evening, Alex, and I'll see you...probably next meeting." His smile returns quick and bright as he loops his arm through Jax's and heads for the door to the interior of the school, "I'm afraid you're just going to have to settle for my electrifying puns for now, darling." "Have fun you two. Don't get too roughed up." Alex said with a small smile. He followed the two out of the conservatory, not wanting to stay too long by himself in the room so shortly after the mist-system had just gone off. Didn't need his clothes to get too damp and end up smelling. With a small sigh he left the room and went about his own business. |