SW: Cultural Differences

[Vincent Meian]

Despite only returning a month ago, Vincent and Nik had been planning for Spirit Week for a while. Each of them had outfits planned from the moment the staff had decided on the themes for the week, and they were easily going to go as a matched set.

The first day was 90's Day. Students and teachers alike were dressed in baggy jeans, sweaters, crumpled socks, headbands, and sneakers, and a variety of other things besides. If the two parents of the family had ever seen episodes of Full House or Boy Meets World, they would have easily recognized the garb (and perhaps thought they were walking onto a set). Since their jobs were fundamentally different in their capacities, they had to split up during the day.

However, whether or not they would have stood out more together or separately was... somewhat up in the air.

Vincent loved his costume. Not only was it fitting for the theme of the day, it was something fairly uniquely Japanese. He'd gotten the idea from the visual kei style in Japan during that time, featured by prominent bands like X Japan, L'Arc En Ciel, and of course Malice Mizer. It was the last band that gave rise to the long tan coat and pseudo-French antique garb the tall man now wore, along with the temporary coloring that made his pitch black hair seem more mahogany brown in parts, and the heavily buckled gothic boots that made him jingle slightly when stalking the halls.

It was very much not something he would wear on a regular basis. But, given the fact that he'd practically fled into the staff lounge for a moment's reprieve, it didn't look entirely bad on him.

Since he was here, the Japanese man poured himself a cup of coffee and sat on the couch, the heavy fabric of his coat resting in crushed velvet waves. It looked opulent, regal, dignified... and slightly ridiculous. Then again, so did everyone else, and it was fun.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The primary problem for everyone outside of Josh and Sean was that their relationship involved an attorney and a psychiatrist, two professions that required precision of language and, at times, splitting hairs. The secondary problems for all bystanders was that they were each excellent at daring the other into all manner of flights of fancy, as long as it didn’t interfere with their jobs or risk their health or legal standing.

Rather, Sean never suggested anything that would interfere with their jobs, or risk their health or their legal standing, and, as easy as it was for him to indulge his partner, he did have the ability to draw his boundaries around those three areas.

Thus, when the telepath had mentioned Spirit Week casually over supper the week before and given his partner a copy of the flyer, they came to the most remarkable realization.

The flyer said “90s Day.” Despite the clear implication, it didn’t outright state 1990s Day.

It had taken them an hour of searching through the costume trunks in the attic, but they had managed to put something together for Monday.

Thus, Monday morning he had woken all the earlier to dress appropriately. After showering, he took special care with his hair, before he donned the white French-cuff shirt, the black vest, the black bowtie, and the black suit trousers and jacket. He did one pass with his hair again, before attaching the pocket watch and donning the costume jewelry. He forwent the cigarettes, as they had no real ones in the house, and hadn’t had them in almost three years (the telepath remained so proud of Josh for that), and there was no need to potentially trigger his partner with an unnecessary prop.

Leaving for his car earned a curious look from his neighbor, but he responded with a smile and a wave.

His morning sessions had earned one question from a student about what had possessed him to choose the costume and one question from a different student that amounted to “why aren’t you participating in Spirit Week?”

Sean had made a mental note to talk to the English teachers later about what they were teaching them.

With a break before his next session, the psychiatrist retreated to the staff lounge for a cup of coffee and a bite of whatever Mallory had brought it. Yet, upon entering the room, he found a shockingly dressed tall man who could only be Vincent Meian (and whose thoughts confirmed his identity). Offering him a smile of greeting, Sean crossed to the coffee pot. “I see the rest of us shouldn’t bother competing since we already know who has the most spirit today.”

[Vincent Meian]

Fortunately for his outfit, Vincent had drained enough of his coffee before the resident psychiatrist had entered the room to keep from spilling it on himself at the comment. Mostly because he flashed a fast smirk and laughed briefly, which was often more than enough for mugs to spill their dark contents over... well, everything.

He'd gotten enough of his own shocked stares from students that day, and he still had four classes to go - among which were Jesse, Joelle and Clement. He still wasn't sure what the reaction would be quite yet, but was somewhat painfully aware that his attire was so out of the norm as to be... incredibly distracting. At least it allowed him to impart some decent Japanese music onto a younger generation.

"I believe that is yet to be known," he replied, standing up to greet Sean and look over the older man's outfit. "After all, I went with a more contemporary variation, despite being from a different country. It appears you had the opposite idea."

The humor in his tone was very evident, and traces of mischief flickered around his somewhat suppressed smile. Not being the only person (or pair of people) in the school to go out of the norm made this all the more entertaining. Even if it meant exasperating training sessions for the rest of the day. "Have you seen Nakia yet?"

A quick image of the woman in her Spirit Day clothes flashed through his mind, readily tinted with the touch of affection and laughter that often accompanied thoughts of her. Blue and white always did look lovely on her.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean didn’t mind the laughter, since it came from an affectionate place, and, moreover, obviously Vincent had recognized the costume. That put him ahead of the students that the psychiatrist had encountered, although, admittedly, the day remained young.

He poured himself a mug of coffee and then stirred in the necessary cream and sugar to turn the bitter brew into something he could tolerate. Then, after sipping and finding it satisfactory, he turned and offered the trainer a half-smile. “I couldn’t resist.” Not to mention that a Victorian-era costume was easier for him to put together than an outfit reminiscent of a high school student during the 1990s, given that he had been thirty-three in 1990.

“But it works out; I think this looks better than any attempt to make myself up like the lead singer of R.E.M.”

Sean liked R.E.M.; they were his contemporaries, and their music had been all the rage when he had been in medical school and his early years of practicing medicine. He even knew some of their music videos, enough to pick out an outfit that could evoke their music, but he far preferred the outfit he had chosen.

With that, he crossed the lounge to settle in one of the chairs.

At Vincent’s question, the telepath shook his head in the negative a single time. “Not yet.” He’d had no reason to go by the infirmary this morning; fortunately, given some of the disasters that plagued certain students and in which he had to involve himself both as a mental health professional and as a member of the administration.

An image popped into his mind of Nakia dressed in an outfit similar to Vincent’s, although with a different color scheme, and he smiled into his cup. “I’ll have to find a reason to check in on her before the day is out.”

[Mallory Reynolds]

Mallory had had way too much fun with the idea of Spirit Week. For almost every day of the week she'd made something up if she didn't own anything appropriate for the theme.

Case and point, today's little number. After some careful memory searching, as well as using Google, she'd found some ideas and designed something fun for the day. It was sort of a short prom-style dress, jazzed up with some of her favorite earrings and heels. Coupled with her crimped-to-death red hair all piled up in a thick ponytail with a puffy black scrunchie, she felt like she'd done a reasonable job in bringing back the 90's.

Clicking down the hall to the lounge, she was in dire need of coffee. Her first classes had been all but bouncing off of the walls, everyone seemingly excited about the events to come for Spirit Week. Which was fine, except when she needed their attention for lessons.

She was pleased to see she wasn't alone, and that the bright neon frosted cupcakes she'd left first thing in the morning were slowly disappearing. "Good morning Sean!" Sean she was used to bumping into at least a few times a week, but the other man... oh! "Vincent! Welcome back!" His absence had largely crossed with her own, but regardless she was glad to see him back.

... Especially with that costume. She all but beamed as she tried to subtly peek at it. It looked so intricate and gosh she wanted to play at more designing! "You both look fabulous."

[Vincent Meian]

A shrug fell over broad shoulders, and the younger man sipped his coffee. He was unfamiliar with most American bands unless they were ridiculously popular internationally. The Beatles, for example, or Metallica - both of which were very popular in the country of his birth, even currently. R.E.M. did not fall into his contemporary music knowledge, but he bore no ill will for it. Undoubtedly, he would hear (or had heard) something from them over the loudspeaker at some point today.

At the psychiatrist's comment, Vincent almost smirked again in kind. "I am sure there shall be photographs, should you miss the opportunity."

Sean may have seated himself, but the trainer had not yet managed it before another familiar face spirited into the room, looking as bouncy as could be in her very American dress. Immediately, he bowed in response to her greeting, though in a more European fashion than his more common Japanese way. "Reynolds-sensei," he replied in kind. "I thank you for your compliment. You seem to be in the spirit of the event as well."

While normally he would have had one already due to his raging sweet tooth, the need for something bitter had trumped the need for sugar at first. Now, however... they were sounding very delicious. "Are those colorful treats a part of your contribution?"

Undoubtedly - the people who brought in the most treats to this room on a regular basis were (almost) all in this room. If the curly-haired head chef were in here, it would be a full house.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean heard the other man’s thoughts, not entirely surprised that the trainer failed to recognize the band name quickly. Vincent was over a decade younger than the psychiatrist was and many younger people associated R.E.M. with commercials and parodies. “They sang Everybody Hurts and It’s the End of the World as We Know It and Losing My Religion.” Those were three of their most famous songs, even if the outfit to which he alluded came from the music video for a song that he hadn’t listed.

He acknowledged Vincent’s remark with a single nod. “So I would expect.” The telepath wasn’t camera shy, and while he understood that plenty of people were, he knew that the trainer and his wife weren’t among those numbers. Still, he was sure that he could find a reason to poke his head into the infirmary before the end of the day; the psychiatrist’s office was close enough to it that it wouldn’t constitute an onerous detour.

When Mallory entered the room, Sean turned towards her and smiled. “Hello, Mallory. How are you today?” She curtained looked in good spirits, and she wore the blinding colors of 1990s styles well; then again, those were the colors and styles of her childhood. “I was just about to try one of your cupcakes.”

As though he could ever turn up his nose at a cupcake sitting in front of him.

[Mallory Reynolds]

It was so nice to have Vincent back. Mallory was sure his students had missed him,and hoped that they had found their ways back him, if they hadn't graduated. Some of her own students had graduated, but the ones that hadn't, she'd been happy to have back.

Grinning at Vincent's comment, she reached up to wrap her fingers around her crimped ponytail. "Spirit Week's a blast." It had given her a chance to mess around with her sewing machine at home, and it had been a lot of fun. "And yes, I brought them. I'm glad no one's being scared off by the neon frosting." Which had been challenging to make in the right tones, but it had been a fun experiment.

Looking up at Sean, she beamed. "I'm great. And I'm happy to see everyone's in the spirit of things." The students seemed to be responding well to it, and she'd seen a lot of the staff participating as well. Though no one seemed to be quite on par with either Sean or Vincent. Whose jacket she still wanted to play with.

"Was this the work of the Student Activities Council, Sean?"

[Vincent Meian]

The songs listed did spark some vague familiarity, though no tunes really came to mind. He would know them if he heard them, but for now the trainer merely shook his head, apologetic for the lack of immediate knowledge. But that was all right; he couldn't be expected to know everything about a culture that was his own, let alone another country's.

Mallory's comment made him smile; a stifled little smirk that showed he wanted to laugh but thought it may be rude. Perhaps that would explain the bright smiles today, he thought, and though he considered it almost unkind to say so, the mental statement was loaded with wry, teasing humor. Amber eyes glanced to Sean as he sipped his coffee and chose to remain silent on the subject.

As the other two spoke their pleasantries, however, he did steal away briefly to obtain a bright orange one for himself. Cupcakes were delicious, and should be enjoyed before they dried out.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Personally, Sean saw no reason that neon frosting would frighten anyone off. The problem with the brownies from several months ago aside – and he remained miffed about that for good reason – baked goods in the staff lounge were safe, and frosting should be colorful. As for the rest of it, he nodded, and agreed, “I think the break from routine is a good change of pace.” He supported community bonding.

“Everything is the work of the Student Activities Council,” the psychiatrist replied with a chuckle. “Our fingerprints are over everything.” Which was only a slight exaggeration. The dual purposes of the Student Activities Council were to do fundraisers and events for the school as a whole and to work with the other clubs to make sure that they had proper funding and manpower for whatever events they wanted to put on. Spirit Week had been their idea. “Yvette had final approval of what each theme day became.”

Which had been her right and pleasure as the Headmistress. They had lost a couple of the more creative suggestions as a result, but Sean couldn’t complain. Overall, he was pleased with the end result.

Overhearing the younger man’s particularly bad pun, the telepath quirked his eyebrow ever so slightly, to indicate that he’d heard the thought. Then he took a sip of his coffee and reached for one of the cupcakes, unwrapping the skirt delicately before taking a bite.

He closed his eyes in pleasure while he chewed, and he didn’t speak until after swallowing. “This is delicious, Mallory. You’re in top form.”