Mystery Spot (open)

[Thomas Legrand II]

Thomas had heard of mystery meat in schools. But he hadn’t ever heard of mystery spots.

The janitor leaned against the vacuum and stared ruefully down at a spot of sticky purple stuff. He’d already sprayed it with one of his strongest cleaners—he wasn’t ahuge fan of using them as they were bad for the environment andfor his health—with no success. He’d tried a lot of water. Nothing. He’d tried scraping it up. Still nothing. It was worse thanthe gum that always got stuck, somehow, to the undersides of desks. And that was one of the few things Thomas outright hated.

He nudged it lightly with his foot and pulled his boot up, eyeing the tendrils of the thing that dangled from his boot. After years of doing this, his gag and disgust reflexes had been completely numbed. He’d seen everything and then some, and it was very hard to bother him. For that reason, it was easy to view this with a detached perspective. Perhaps it was an alien. Or a new byproduct of a power. That was entirely possible, but Thomas just wished someone had warned him about this. He sighed, fetched a penny from his pocket—they were very handy when it came to gum—scraped it off his shoe and then threw it into the garbage can on his cart.

Now if only there were a larger penny.

Thomas glancedup as he heard footsteps. The students should have all been asleep, but occasionally some snuck out past curfew. Thomas usuallydidn’t say anything about it to them, but if he thought they were up to no good, he brought it up to the security staff and letthem handle it later.

“If you have some cleaning ability,” he said, “I could use some help. If not, I’d recommend avoiding this area.” He sighed. “Chemist might do, however.”

[Faye LaBeau]

Faye trudged through the snow back to the school cursing herself for leaving the exams on her desk. Her mind was somewhere else, she had stupidly decided out of no where to hold a holiday dinner on christmas which was great since her apartment STILL wasn't totally together, and she couldn't cook. Faye had the cooking talent of a drunk hamster on the fourth of July. She could burn water and freeze ice cream, she had her strengths, this was not one of them. So brilliant. 

Once she finally got into the school, which was an entire other endeavor taking far too long considering the locks didn't seem to want to unfreeze! Damn Vermont was cold in the winter, she often forgot considering her ability, it didn't effect her, but it effected everything else! 

The hallways were dark, and Hammel she decided was one of the creepiest places on earth. Her classroom of course, locked but she could see through the window the pile of final papers on her desk. Uhg, brilliant. With any luck there'd be a janitor around to help her out. 

She walked down the hallway towards the light coming from the auditorium. This was either going to be extremely lucky, or terrifying and disappointing. The large doors opened with a squeak and she peaked in, "Uhm. Hi!" She said seeing the janitor. She wasn't sure if she knew him. 

Crap, the realization that she looked like hell just hit her. "Don't look at me. I'm hideous." She was usually dolled up, and here she was in sweatpants and no makeup, her hair up in a bun. "It's Faye... erm... Miss LaBeau and I left my kids finals in my classroom... i'm an idiot." 

[Thomas Legrand II]

Thomas also couldn’t cook anything other than bachelor food, which largely meant throwing everything that still looked edible into a pot and cooking it until he could chew it. He wasn’t intending to go home for the holidays either, but that didn’t worry him. He liked being on his own. He much preferred it to being with his family, who would probably be having some elaborate dinner party elsewhere. Thomas was good at putting on a show, but not much good at actually enjoying those things. He thought he’d prefer a night at home with his books to that. It was close to the holidays to be working, but he didn’t mind that either. Not even the sticky mess on the floor.

Although it was kind of getting on his nerves. Just a little.

Thomas leaned against the vacuum and smiled, bemusedly, at the woman who had just entered. She was a bit disheveled, yes. Definitely a teacher of some nature. But also quite beautiful. Also way too young for him, sure, but Thomas could be amused by the fact that there was a lovely woman who seemed to be looking for some assistance. There was that knight errant complex of his.

“Not at all.” A pause. That had come out of his mouth. Oh well. He offered a smile instead. “You look fine. Besides, it’s late. Locks giving you trouble? I’ll come and give you a hand.” He spritzed some cleaning materials onto the spot, frowned at it severely—as if they would help—and then stepped forward and offered a smile. “I’m Thomas Legrand. Friends call me Tom. Which way to your classroom, Miss LaBeau?” She probably didn’t speak French, and that was for the better. His was very rusty.