Never Late, Always Clever

[Percival Quinn]

With the school year back in full swing, Percival had quickly fallen back into the inevitability of his life and work. A few weeks away overseas scoping out the Cathedral La Seu in Palma left him with an exalted sense of profound comfort. Two weeks away, but really, it must have been months. Months in the lives of other people; tourists to visionaries. Two weeks - or months as time worked its way through retrocognition and stacked like no time at all had passed - of rejuvenation and a reminder as to why he seemed to exist in this universe in the first place, and it was time to get back in the swing of things.

And so, it was easy to notice a proverbial black spot on the radar of training routines and classes. A few missed through proper rescheduling and clever clashes, and he hadn't seen the British one since everything started again.

So he called a meeting over a training class. Meetings were strict. Necessary. They likely called to her desire to retain order and a clean record, because missing something as formal as a meeting wouldn't be something she'd properly allow to happen. Because it wasn't proper.

A turn in his chair and he glanced at the clock, then to the watch on his wrist to ensure the minutes coincided. She had three left to make it to their nine-on-the-dot meeting, and he doubted she'd be a second behind.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Following the schedule of a university student was never easy. It had made for a complicated routine in the past, but now? Matters could only grow worse when a student lived off the campus she was supposed to train at. When she didn't drive. Working around classes, public transport, and someone else's schedule? Practically impossible.

Was that Penny's fault? Of course not. She had little control over outside matters that limited her time at Hammel. By any and all technicalities, she wasn't skipping her training sessions. There was no mark against her for being unable to attend due to scheduling conflicts.

A meeting, however, could not be rescheduled. It forced the Penelope to find an opening in her suddenly busy schedule to make her way back to her old high school. Missing this was considered unacceptable on paper; she had no choice, really.

That hadn't prevented the young psychometrist from showing up as late as she could stand to be. And by late, she wasn't late at all, but for someone who showed up to her classes as early as possible, it felt late.

Exactly two minutes before the scheduled time for the meeting, there was a small knock at the door before it was pushed open. Penelope took a half step inside, dark eyes landing on an older set. Immediately, she glanced to the first visible clock in sight before looking back to him again. "Mr. Quinn." She greeted, tone flattening with false civility.

[Percival Quinn]

Eyes had settled themselves perfectly on the clock on the wall, watching seconds tick by. Because she only had to be a few seconds late and Percival could mark her for it. Or at the very least, he could say he was going to mark her for it. He could almost smile over the expression she'd likely be pulling if that were the case.

But he whirled himself around as a knock came to the door, not two minutes before time would have dwindled to nothing completely. When it was pushed open, his eyes were quick to find hers as she made her way into the room. Though he lost her gaze, he still kept his attention where it was supposed to be, his expression practically neutral. Because every encounter with the British one who never liked to use her gift could be a strain if he let it. But this year would be different.

Y'know, if we discounted the classes she'd already reschedules.

"Ms Blaise," He greeted her surprisingly warmly as a hand directed her to the chair opposite the desk he sat at. "You must excuse how grateful I am for the fact that you could make time to be here today."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As Penelope stepped into the office, she closed the door behind her quietly. Mr. Quinn's tone was surprisingly light, but the psychometrist refuse to let it grab her interest. Instead, she simply moved to the chair offered to her, hands tucking in her skirt as she sat, only to rest on crossed legs moments later.

"There was a fortunate break in my schedule." Penelope replied with a small tilt of her head, as if it really were fortunate to be sitting in a room with this man. It was necessary to be polite on some level, but her tone still remained flattened. Distaste hid in the undertones of her voice as she straightened her back against the back of the chair. "My apologies for what has seemed to be a hectic start of the year." And what was surely to continue throughout the year.

Although she was facing towards the trainer, her gaze fell past him. She paid no attention to aged features or the intense way he always seemed to look. Her focus could have been just as easily on the wall behind him.

[Percival Quinn]

Percival had to be grateful. He had to be happily surprised that she had made it all the way here today. After all, so much time had passed and still not a single in person word from her mouth. Everything was always through emails; even through electronics, she did so easily come across so very British.

"Of course, of course." He replied, waving the excuses she handed off without a second thought. By now, he had had enough time to figure her out as best he could. He had learnt all he needed to. At least, it seemed as such. "After all, a schedule is why we are here today, isn't it?"

Hands were quick to pull a drawer open and retrieve something most pertinent. A blank slate print of the month of September, completely clear as he slid it across the immaculate surface towards her.

Seconds later, a pen followed, set neatly beside it at the greatest parallel angle.

"Pop your scheduled class times down here." He requested. A tone light. A smile catching his mouth to the fact.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

What was to come out of this meeting, Penelope wasn't entirely sure. She was almost positive that it would involve some sort of confrontation over her busy schedule, but she had prepared for that. After all, it wasn't her fault in the least. On any technicality, she hadn't lied about being unable to make the days offered to her for training.

So when a blank schedule was pushed in front of her, her eyebrows twitched upwards in mild alarm. It was the most she'd offer to the trainer, but this very much was threatening. A pen was quick to follow within the next moment and Penelope's eyes flicked up to catch his colder ones. A lightened tone and a smile put forced her own lips to press into a hardened line before she gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

Rather than reaching for the schedule offered to her, Penelope first reached into the small side bag she carried with her. There, she secured three different colored pens - including the same color that was offered to her in the first place. Only then did she go for the paper start to write down her schedule.

"These are my classes." Neat handwriting in black ink wrote down several days and times before she capped her pen, but she reached for a blue one next. "And here's the bus schedule." She started before pressing her pen to the schedule again.

[Percival Quinn]

Percival studied the mild expression given to her; the telltale signs of some form of either frustration of confusion. Though she offered so little, she offered that minuscule amount often enough. A small nod of acknowledgement forced his smile to carry warmth instead. After all, that little hit was some kind of detail within itself. It was enough for Percival to know he had bested a moment.

But to shift power - or prove a point - she went for her own pen, or a set there of. He left it as it was.

He tilted his head slightly as he listened and watched the neat writing hit the paper he was bound to keep for the entire month. Surely, it would prove to be the most precious thing he could keep to prove a point of his own. A point of reference was necessary.

"And the third?" He asked, his eyes shifting to the last of her co-ordinated pens.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope didn't look up as she wrote out her schedule to the man who was trying to impossibly work around it. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of eye contact in a moment he felt he had won. Instead, dark eyes remained cast down on the calendar as she filled it up. Blue ink covered each day with a detailed schedule of the bus route between Hammel and her new home, failing to mention that on certain occasions, a ride could have been provided by her counterpart if she was desperate. However, she was hardly eager to turn up to any session with the powers trainer.

"Prior engagements." Penelope replied shortly, tilting her head to the side as she finally glanced upward, although not at Mr. Quinn, but rather to the third pen as she capped the blue one and reached out to switch them. Red.

Again, she returned to the calendar, marking off the days she knew she'd find herself busy. The days when she knew it'd be impossible to leave her home - her bed. The only prior engagement Penny ever had: Lucy Serrano. Once she was finished, she returned her pens to her bag, leaving the paper untouched as her hands fell in her lap.