revivalproject | Everything tragic, take it away

WHO: Open to all!
WHERE: The local high school
WHAT: Opening event catch-all, centering on a Very Special Guest coming to talk to the students. Anyone is welcome to assume that role! Senator, scientist, entrepreneur, superhero - whoever!
WHEN: Event start
WARNINGS: None as yet!

On a perfectly ordinary morning, in a perfectly ordinary city, a small, blonde-haired man with a pointed, delicate looking face and sharp blue eyes rose from his perfectly ordinary slumber. He did so before his alarm, which was also perfectly ordinary, as was the coffee he had at breakfast and the drive he took to work. His name was Drake Riley; he was the Principal of the School, and always had been.

“Good morning, Mr Riley.”

“Morning, Hannah.

“Fresh coffee in the lounge.”

“Already had some, thanks.” He sat at his desk in his office, looking through the papers in his in-box.

“We have a very important guest coming today.” Hannah called.

“Yes...coming to talk to the students. Can you have the cafeteria cleared and set up after second period?”

“Yes, Mr Riley.”

Later, as Drake waited for the students to begin transitioning from their classrooms to the cafeteria-turned-auditorium, his fingers absently tapped out patterns on the cafeteria menu of the week. There was pineapple today. Pineapple. 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, tapped his fingers. The Guest would be coming at 12:30. 1230, 1230, 1230, XMMU J1230. He shook his head and got up, “I think I'll have some of that coffee after all.”

“Rough morning?”

“Not as such, just seem to be distracted is all,” he said as he poured himself a cup.

“Probably just a little stress,” Hannah said, stapling together a pamphlet. “It isn't every day such an important person visits, after all.”

“No, I know. Probably all it is. I'll be outside to see the students in, all right?”

“Of course, Mr Riley.”

Mr Riley. He didn’t like that; it sounded strange just as much as it sounded perfectly ordinary.

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"Did I say -- oh, for goodness sakes," she breathed out an exasperated sigh. "I'm so sorry, I must be meeting with a Doctor of something-or-other later and it slipped out. My schedule's been ridiculous lately."

He wasn't the only one with thoughts with will of their own, apparently. She wanted to try and fight what she was saying, for just the briefest moment, and a tiny line appeared in her brow as she spoke, as though she didn't quite believe herself.

She hesitated for a moment, breathing in. Did you just have a moment where you felt like you were having memories that weren't yours, too? She meant to ask it, she really did, but what came out instead was...

"With that in mind, I should leave you to your day, Mr. Riley."

"Yyyyyyes..." he said slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on her face.

"Before you go...what do you mean by odd things about the grounds? Have you noticed anything?"

It may have been nothing, since she'd yet to hear or see anything else out of the ordinary, but ... maybe it was that Archivist and his strange mothcats. That was a distinct possibility.

"The problem in heading a division which deals with superpowers and otherworldly advances, Principal Riley, is that it's hard to be specific when asking people to look out for things. But schools are relatively routine places ... so it'd be easier to spot something that doesn't quite follow that routine, if you get my drift. Someone acting not quite themselves, or maybe more easily distracted than usual. Changes in patterns of behavior."

Drake sucked his lips in and stared off into the middle distance.

"Of course..." he finally said. Then, very slowly, "But...what if 'routine,' or....'themselves,'.....isn't...what it's supposed to be. He looked askance at her with an expression that was halfway hopeful that she followed what he meant and halfway worried that he was insane and everyone could tell.

For the briefest moment, when their eyes met, she felt like they were somewhere else: somewhere bright and busy and bustling, several conversations in different languages floating around them in the background. Then the odd feeling passed, but her heart did a loop-de-loop in her chest.

"What if," she echoed, frowning. "Dr. Riley ... when did this start happening? Just between you and I?"

Instead of immediately answering her question, Drake pointed at Clarice with wide eyes.

"See, there it is again! Dr. Riley, that's the second time you've said that. I have a masters degree in educational administration, but..." He looked suddenly a little panicked, running a hand through his hair and casting his gaze back and forth rapidly. '...but I don't remember earning it! And I'm just as certain that 'Doctor Riley' sounds....I don't know, correct. Some - somehow."

When did this start, she'd asked.

Things had seemed off for as long as he could remember, which would obviously have been his whole life. Right? Or at least as long as he'd lived in the city.

How long was that, again?

Come to think of it, how far back could he remember?

"I...I-I-I don't..." He shook his head helplessly. "I don't know. Awhile? I can't even remember anything past....maybe a month ago."

He was acting spastic, she realized. As though he wasn't entirely stable. Logic told her to call someone else over, to bring him to HQ to get diagnosed, to see if he'd been affected by some sort of power or supernatural effect.

But then there was the fact that everything he was saying was making her think, too. Normally she could keep a level head around anyone affected by what some at SHIELD coloquially called The Weirdness ... this was different, somehow. She tried to answer her own questions, and found similar answers. She tried to remember the ceremony when she'd officially inherited her title and role, but ... instead she saw flashbulbs, smelled carnations, saw a cake with a very different logo.

"Doctor-" somehow the word Lecter almost rolled off her tongue instead. She stopped herself. Why? That had been her mentor's name in SHIELD, the one who'd taught her -- taught her what?

"I'm finding the same. I don't like this." Was it him? Riley? Did he have an ability he wasn't aware of? Her defenses slammed down into place and she took a step backwards, away from him.

For a moment, Drake looked at her with the hope of a man alone in the desert suddenly seeing another person. But when she stepped back, the mirage vanished, and a look of disproportionate heartbreak passed clearly across his face.

A woman that he didn't recognize, but somehow knew he loved, was stepping away from him. There must have been a fight, or cruel words, or a rejection, because he didn't think he could feel such unbearable pain as the vision caused.

Without knowing why, he moved as if to reach out to her but stopped himself.

"'Drea..."

There was far too much sadness packed into those two syllables than they had any right to contain, and Drake still had no idea who 'Drea was or why she evoked such disappointment.

"I- ... I'm sorry. I'm"

I'm not mad.

"...am I mad?"

That sadness broke her heart, even as it confused her, and she immediately felt bad for stepping away.

Do you think if you save Catherine Martin's little girl, maybe they'll stop screaming, Clarice?

"Oh, God." She dragged a hand over her face, tried to stay cool, tried to be a professional. What would her predecessor have done? Shit house mouse, he would have turned around and walked the hell away, and God help her, a part of her wanted to do that too. But she wanted to know why their minds were behaving this way, and that might take time. She couldn't answer either of their questions in that moment. And in that, she saw her out. She saw it, and grasped it, and felt like a coward even though it was the proper thing to do.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Riley. I am. If you're mad so am I, but - I need to talk to some folks at SHIELD. See if they've gotten any similar reports. We can't jump to any conclusions, it would do more harm than good."

She reached into her pocket and took out her business card case, holding one out to him. Hopefully he would see it as a lifeline, not a dismissal. "I do have to go, but ... please. Keep in touch."

He took the card and held it close to himself, not quite knowing how he should see the gesture, but suddenly feeling very exposed and very foolish. He'd scared her away. Bang up job, mate, bloody excellent, gold star. Of course she was off. He would be, too, if some nutter suddenly went barking mad and started foaming at the mouth like that. What was he thinking?

Well, he wasn't, obviously. Thinking.

It was far too late for any sort of recovery, but although his stomach felt like it was filled with sodden tennis netting, Drake put on the only face he knew how to in difficult situations, anyway.

Be calm.

He gave a fortifying cough and a wide, sheepish grin.

Carry on.

"Of course! I am sorry to have kept you." He said, tucking the business card into a back pocket where it'd very likely go through the wash before he'd go searching for it in a blind panic after another 'episode.'

He could feel how against his nature it was to have a brave face securely fastened on, and yet how it was as familiar as putting on a comfortable old pair of shoes.

"I'll call if anything new happens." (The principal sucked in a deep breath) "At any rate," (and blew out as much pain and anxiety as he could, disguised as a sigh through pursed lips) "I'd better be getting back to the salt mine, myself. Cheers!"

And with a friendly wave and a practiced smile, he turned back to the doors to head inside.

Everything tragic, take it away

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oh no now I love these two even more why did you do that

I'M SORRY I can't help it i love tragedy