Office #2 at the school, Thursday mid-morning.

[biotic_psychotic]

[CW/TW: Jono's thread goes some dark places. Torture/etc.]

Jack had decided on office hours so once she hit the coffee shop for the largest to-go cup they had she went and camped out in her spartan school office. After about twenty minutes she became bored and out of coffee. Examining the lock on her door, she pulled a multi-tool from her pocket and began disassembling it. Once it was off the door she took pictures of the whole rig and reassembled it. It was tossed carelessly into the bottom desk drawer.

The door was propped open with the wastecan. From another pocket came a tennis ball. Leaning back in her desk chair, she began doing a slow bounce with it from floor to wall and back to her hand.

The teacher is in.

[Open office hours!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

It was the slow bounce of the ball that had gotten Jonothon's attention, the hollow piff of the tennis ball as it hit the floor, then the wall, and then repeated the process.

Again.

And again.

He'd been in his own office, making use of the quiet here to make a mess across his own desk, pamphlets for various tourist attractions (and/or traps) spread out before him. But there wasn't focus to be had. Not with piff-piff, piff-piff going on just down the hall. And so he'd made the trek down the hall and around the corner from number seven, mostly just to see who had set up camp there and whether they'd be amenable to shutting the door before they drove him utterly barmy.

He blinked as he peered into the room.

//Ah, Jack, right?//

Well, it wasn't somebody he hated! That was a good sign.

[biotic_psychotic]

The ball was caught in her palm. "Hey Jon. How's it goin'? Didn't know anyone else was up here. Doesn't seem much like anyone ever fuckin' is."

[furnaceface]

//Half the reason I occasionally actually use that office,// Jono admitted, a little wryly. //Most people don't tend to spend time around here if they don't have to, generally they'll hang around for that weekend when parents are about, but that's in... September? Offices just gather dust otherwise.//

Perfect for an antisocial guy who just wanted to work in the quiet for a while.

[biotic_psychotic]

"Not sure I've ever been somewhere that wastes so much fucking space," Jack admitted, "I got a classroom already, the fuck I even need an office for?"

A hand waved lazily at all the empty nothing, "I put shit in here I only have to pack it all back out again at the end of the term so what's the point? Ah, fuck it. How's your travel class going?"

[furnaceface]

//Tell me about it,// Jono replied. //I've had three different offices since I began teaching here. Actually met Hannibal by walking into his one semester, forgetting it wasn't mine anymore.//

He shrugged. It was Fandom. These things happened.

//Class seems to be going well, at least. I leave Hannibal to book the portals, we end up in some take on Earth that doesn't seem to notice that half of us are on fire or blue or whatever the hell else. From there it's just a matter of playing tourist for an hour or so.//

[biotic_psychotic]

"They better plan to just keep me in this one," Jack laughed with a nod at her door, "Or they better figure out their own way to get my name un-thermalbonded from the damn door."

The tennis ball rolled back and forth between her hands on the desk. "Sounds like a fun class," she offered, "Gotta be a nice break from some of the other heavy shit."

[furnaceface]

//Knowing Fosse, they'd probably just replace the door,// Jono joked. //Or keep hiring people named Jack.//

It wasn't exactly an uncommon name.

//And...// He paused a moment. //Yeah. Can't complain about an hour of peace here and there. Home's got more than its fair share of heavy and life around the island doesn't generally lean much lighter.//

[biotic_psychotic]

"Who?" Jack asked blankly. Shrugged. "I got Jack Two in my class. Maybe he wants to teach somethin' next. If I don't just camp out here and keep teaching the same sort of shit for awhile."

Until Balak and whoever his puppetmasters were had found themselves a nice damp grave to rot in.

"Island seems pretty damn quiet right now," she offered. Leaned back in her desk chair and kicked her feet up on it. "So what do you do for fun around here when it's this boring?"

[furnaceface]

//Fosse,// Jono repeated. //Janitor, maintenance, actual, literal Troll, I think.// And a shrug. //And me? All my favourite vices aren't exactly an option these days, but I keep busy. Write music, play music. Run. Train. Run more...//

He shrugged.

//I split enough time between here and New York, boredom isn't usually a concern.//

[biotic_psychotic]

"Huh. Troll. New one on me," Jack mused. "Does the moose have an actual name or is he just 'The Moose' capital everyfuckingthing?"

Pulled a face at him. "You guys and your damn running. That ain't a hobby. That's some sort of masochism bein' expressed or some shit. My vices run out I just go down the list and find new ones. About the only one I haven't tried yet is smoking but that's because I don't need any more cancer risk than I already got."

Jack paused and then squinted at his flames. "Can you make smoke with those or is it just color and heat?" She didn't mean cigarettes, no.

[furnaceface]

//... You know, never asked the moose if he has a name.// Jono sounded faintly sheepish. //Ought to do that at some point.//

There was another pause, and then he added, //And I can make smoke, but smoke requires something to burn. The flames aren't actual physical fire, technically, but they've eaten away at me before.//

There had been a time, once, when he'd been certain they would gradually just burn the whole of him away.

[sharp_man]

That sound was difficult to miss, and eventually Hannibal decided to come by and see who it was.

"Hello; you're one of the new teachers, aren't you?" He came in and held out his hand. "Doctor Hannibal Lecter."

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack stopped the bouncing and stood up to reach across the desk and shake his hand. Look at her go with the prompt politeness social cue thing! Gold star effort. "Jack," she greeted him, "and yeah I'm new this term. You teach the class with Jon right? The travel class?"

[sharp_man]

"Yes," Hannibal answered. "And you would be the one teaching civics, then. Or something like it." Which he highly approved of.

[biotic_psychotic]

"Something like it," Jack agreed. "How's your class going?"

She sucked at small talk. This seemed the thing to ask.

[sharp_man]

"The students seem to enjoy it, and I've gotten Jono to dive with me, so I'm counting it a 'win'," Hannibal said, smiling. "And yours?"

[biotic_psychotic]

"Gave 'em a rundown on how the Constitution's evolved and why it sucks there has to be amendments and briefly touched on what you do when you get a bigot in front of you," Jack answered, "Next week's a field trip to the underground railroad museum and we start diving deep into what to do in the face of unjust laws."

A beat.

"Two weeks until I start teaching them to be adorable baby anarchists." Not really anarchists. That wasn't the right word. "Maybe they'll learn something they can use."

[sharp_man]

Hannibal chuckled. "From what I hear on the radio, some of them may have a head start. What do you do when you have a bigot in front of you, out of curiosity?"

[biotic_psychotic]

"Depends on the bigot, what they're saying and who they're saying it to," Jack answered after a moment of thought. "If they're standing on a street corner ranting their shit to the air and the almighty? I'll go over and shout 'em down until they run away home crying for their mommy. They're bein' specific to a stranger? I'll get in their face until they back up and off and shut the fuck right up and leave. They wanna step? I'll step right up and beat them all the fucking way down."

She looked at him so he could see the absence of anything but a deep and abiding seriousness. "They say it to one of mine? To one of my students?"

Jack smiled. It was sharp and it was cold and it was cruel and it lacked anything speaking to the ability to have remorse. "I will kick open the gates of hell. I will usher them right the fuck on through. And I will do it all with a smile on my face."

[sharp_man]

Hannibal smiled back. It was mostly pleasant, but there was enough of an edge to keep it from being bland. He had, after all, recently done the same.

"Around here, that protectiveness will stand you in good stead."

[biotic_psychotic]

"I'm a teacher," Jack shrugged a shoulder, "They're my students. Didn't really figure they hired me for my professionalism and wardrobe."

[spectre_alenko]

Jack had been complaining about her office for a week. Kaidan knew where it was and nobody seemed to be stopping him while he was heading there.

He grinned a little when he heard the fidget of the ball hitting floor and wall. He knew that sound of old.

Carrying the bag with the lock she'd wanted, as well as a present for her, he found the office and leaned against the doorjam. "This is the new digs, huh?"

[biotic_psychotic]

"You brought my fucking lock?" Jack greeted him cheerfully.

[spectre_alenko]

"Brought you the lock," Kaidan agreed. He took out a bag of small plastic poker chips with words printed on them.

Swearwords.

"And a present. Thought you could use these for your swear jar instead of actual credit chits. Less likely to get stolen."

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack blinked and reached for the bag to look at the chips. "Did you make these?"

She read the swearwords. There were some in Krogan and Asari and all the other languages from home and she just busted out laughing. "Thanks, Kaidan. These are great."