You'd think he'd learn by now [Stephen]

[Darryl Bond]

Having been at Hammel, as a teacher, for only a few months Darryl's severally made a mess of things. He's certainly alienated himself amid the staff that was nearer to his own age, turned what few of the staff that he could have been good friends with against him, oh and let's not forget about the baby on the way. Yep. That's right. Darryl Bond was going to be a father because of a drunken romp with Midori Hawkins, the cute little recruiter who he invited over to help him with his garden. Which was something he had more or less goaded her not to tell anyone else about.

Because Darryl's gardening hobby was a secret.

And none of that would have happened if he hadn't gone to the staff lounge that day, many weeks ago. At the time he did it with a mind to meet more of the staff, so he wasn't just that weird drama teacher that hovered around his class room all day. Darryl was a social creature and he needed the attention. He couldn't very well 'hang out' with his students, as much as he was starting to become attached to them, he still wanted to pull their his hair out at the end of the day.

The coffee pot was burbling, but instead of making coffee, it was just making his water hot for his tea. He hadn't had some in a while (since he met Clarisse, he remembered with a shadow of a smile). Once the pot was full of hot water he retrieved a coffee cup for himself and set about making his cup of tea, heavy on the sugar and with a bit of honey. He needed a moment to unwind. He lifted his fedora (black with a red stripe today, to go with his black button up) off his head and sat it on his knee after he took a seat on the couch. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes after another moment. His tea was too hot at the moment so he was letting it cool. After a moment he lifted his other hand and rubbed the insides of his eyes. He really couldn't believe he'd messed up so bad.

[Stephen Gage]

Luck, it would seem, was not on Stephen's side this season. Usually, as a recruiter, he could look forward to spending the winter months in more hospitable climes, going between the Southern states and picking up potential students amid warmer weather. He rather liked that as bearing an affection for cold weather that, on its best days, could be described as nonexistent was not terribly conducive to enjoying winters in Vermont. Snow might as well be a gift from Satan himself, and though the skies had yet to release their salvos, Stephen was not looking forward to the day he'd have to shovel pounds of the white stuff away from his door.

So it can be understood why, on that day in mid-October, Stephen was putting his knowledge of the buildings on campus to incredible use, finding whatever path would allow him to stay in relative warmth the longest. His schedule for the day seemed to be designed to have him travelling from one end of the Institute to the other, and indeed it became something of a contest with himself to discover just how little time outside was required of him to actually move about campus. And for a man whose power was not super speed or teleportation, the total time spent in the growing chill was truly impressive. He'd just made a bee-line directly from building to another, disregarding the confused stares of the students that saw him. Some of them were his own recruits, and understood, and laughed. Others were hardly aware of who this 32-year old man was that was practically jogging across their Institute. His thermos hung empty from one hand, the newspaper he'd had earlier long forgotten on a table somewhere. Stephen's clothes hadn't changed at all, still comprised of the dark blue jeans with black boots, the red plaid button-up shirt, and the black coat that so kindly kept him warm. His necklace, however, had since slipped out from beneath the neck of his shirt and thumped quietly against his chest as he ran.

The door behind him closed, and Stephen let out a sigh of relief as the shutting of the portal took the draft off of his back. The staff lounge was near, and Stephen was out of tea. Unacceptable, to be sure. He heard a distant whistling, and congratulated himself on his excellent timing. Someone else must have already set the kettle on. The day was a good one indeed.

Stephen entered the staff lounge on a mission. No sooner had he opened the door than his eyes rested on the steaming kettle and angels sung from above. From what he remembered of his time here earlier, the tea would still be in the cabinet. English Breakfast, if his recollection was correct, easily the best sort. He strode forward, popping off the top of his thermos, when his tunnel vision widened and he took note of the presence of the other man in the room.

Well, his zeal was perhaps a bit embarrassing, but he'd certainly found himself in worse situations before. This one was hardy unmanageable. The face seemed familiar, but as so often happened with Stephen, the name itself escaped him. As a recruiter, he came and went from campus frequently. He knew some members of the staff, but newer employees remained nameless to him. But then, there's always opportunities to make new acquaintances. He smiled, pointing at the kettle with his thermos. "Sorry, this yours? Do you mind if I steal a bit of water?"

[Darryl Bond]

The door had opened and boots carried quickly across the floor over to where Darryl pinpointed, was the pot. He grinned a little and thought of the coffee maker as some sort of beacon and since it was done, teachers and staff of all sorts would be drawn in to it like a bee to a flower. With that in mind he cracked an eye open and turned look at the first person in to get a some water. Darryl didn't recognize him, which said little, because Darryl had yet to really meet everyone, even if he had been here for a few months. Though with word spreading like wildfire....he might now Darryl.

"'Don't mind at all. Help yourself." Darryl raised his own steaming cup of tea towards the man and took a small sip. It was about to the temperature he could drink easily from, but it still had a few degrees to drop before Darryl took the first large drink of it. He sighed wistfully to himself as he sat his cup back on the coffee table in front of him, and he went back to waiting for it to cool down. He adjusted his fedora on his knee, only to give his hands something to do. Normally, Darryl would be jumping on the chance to meet someone new, but recently that had only been dangerous for Darryl. He was much more timid to initiate the conversation, and because of that, he was mulling over a million and two things he could say to him that Darryl considered 'safe'. He certainly was having a hard time about it.

[Stephen Gage]

The meager seconds between Stephen's question and Darryl's answer were agonizing indeed. The recruiter could quite nearly hear the water still bubbling away inside the pot, and when the permission was finally given, he reached for the kettle with a befitting level of excitement. He had a thermos to fill, goddamn it, and an imagined autumn chill still nipped at his skin, hurrying him along. He cast the stranger a quick nod of gratitude, and turned his back to Darryl. The thermos was set upon the counter with a light, hollow thud, and Stephen's hands found their way to the cupboard doors, pulling them open. He searched around for a bit, rummaging through a few small boxes of tea, looking for a particular one. His patience in this affair was limited, and it wasn't long before he attempted to enlist some help in the matter. "Hey, have you seen where the- ah, nevermind. Found it."

English Breakfast Tea. Naturally the best sort of the stuff, and yet it had somehow been relegated to the back end of the cabinet. Shameful indeed. Stephen popped off the top of his thermos, pouring the boiling water inside. With nearly surgical precision, he draped the tea bag over the edge of the cup, pinning it securely beneath the lid. A few minutes to brew, a sip or two, and Stephen would be right as rain. Now came the worst part, however. Waiting.

At least there was someone to wait with. Stephen gripped the thermos and carried it with him to a chair by the table. Another soft thud sounded as he put the thermos on the table, deeper now, and Stephen himself plopped down across from Darryl. Searching for something "safe" to say was a problem Stephen rarely had unless he was actively looking to spend the night in a bed that wasn't cold. So, with his smile turned on at the prospect of tea and satisfaction with not suffering the mild autumn cold, he had no problem attempting to start some fashion of conversation. "This is the worst part, you know. The waiting. Bit too hot, not quite brewed. Going to be wonderful when it's done, though. How's yours?"

[Darryl Bond]

Now that he had opened his eyes to look at the newcomer, he turned a little on the couch to better look at him. His movements were just as dramatic and as flourishing as Darryl's (if not more so, from his enthusiasm) which made him alright in his book. When the guy started to ask him where...something was, Darryl was ready to answer him, however the guy never got to it, for he already found what he was looking for, which seemed like a certain type of tea. Darryl was normally not one of the stuff. Coffee had the right amount of caffeine in it, and with all the different flavors, he never had a cup that tasted the same. However, in tea's case, Darryl used enough sugar and honey to drown any chance of identifying the different types. Herbal, green, or even English Breakfast tea.

As the guy plopped down across from him, Darryl took another test sip of his, eager to get to drinking it already. He was happy with the temperature, even if it was still on the burn-your-tongue side and he took a bigger sip. Yummy. He could see the guy across from him was dreading the wait and he was about to comment on it, when the guy spoke himself about it. "Mine? Well I take a bit of tea with my sugar and honey. I never quite had the taste for tea itself." Darryl admitted, even if he was from the South, his taste was a bit different than the norm. "Coffee is my preferred drink, but I just felt like something else today, ya know?" Darryl asked him as he leaned forward and carefully slid his coffee cup onto the table, he then stretched out his hand in greeting.

"'M Darryl Bond, drama teacher. And you are...?" He trailed off to let the man fill in the blank.

[Stephen Gage]

Stephen made a congenial scowl at the mention of coffee, a small laugh accompanying the shaking of his head. "Not big on coffee myself. Gives me the jitters," he said, bringing one of his hands to a quick shake. He placed his palm over the top of his mug, heat wafting out of the small hole through which his lovely drink would eventually pour. Ah, still hot. Probably would be for a bit longer, too. Stephen had watched the man take a sip of his drink with a small amount of friendly jealousy. A watched pot never boils, and a cup of tea in Stephen's general vicinity never seems to cool off. He had the testicular fortitude to endure some of the beverage's more imposing temperatures, but not the liquid fire that brewed in his mug. So he'd wait. It'd taste all the better when it cooled.

Stephen had a terrible time with introductions. Not that he found them awkward, or laborious. He simply consistently forgot about them and had a tendency to instead jump straight into conversation. Fortunately, most other people abode by that particular rule of general decency, and Darryl Bond was one of them. Stephen met the outstretched hand with his own, granting the man a firm shake and the awaited name. "Stephen Gage, pleased to meet you. I'm one of the recruiters."

Stephen turned his mind to the list of teachers he knew at the school, surprisingly few for an employee of several years. As a recruiter, he spent most of his time abroad. The teaching staff of Hammel changed somewhat frequently, with people either retiring, leaving to enjoy their remaining lives, and arriving to share their experiences with their abilities with surprising frequency. So, hardly the sort to hide his curiosity, Stephen made it known. "I'm not around here much, I'm afraid. When did you start working here?" He added with a chuckle, "If it was years ago, I'm going to feel like an ass. That's for sure."

[Darryl Bond]

Darryl could understand that coffee wasn't everyone's drink, but Darryl was quite sure he had more coffee in his system than blood. He drank it, a lot. With every meal...sometimes with vodka...whenever he smelled it being made in the Lounge...Just all the time. Tea, while it was good to fix hangovers, colds, and some depressing moods, it just didn't have that little umph that coffee offered. And the taste, by itself, was bitter and he had a hard time downing it, which was why he put in more sugar and honey than reasonable. He made an otherwise healthy drink rather bad. "Ah but it's the jitters that makes it great." Darryl grinned back at the guy. He seemed alright, despite his distaste for the God-juice.

When he stuck his hand out in reciprocation, Darryl shook the guys hand with the acceptable firm and movement. He really hated it when a handshake turned into a pissing contest, or the person whose hand he was shaking traded it for an empty glove. Stephen, as he called himself, had the right sort of handshake. Darryl sipped his tea, finally happy with the temperature. "A pleasure then, Stephen." Darryl grinned but dropped his eyes when the guy revealed himself to be a recruiter. Upon learning his name, the other guy didn't scoff and move away, or glare at him, so Darryl guessed he either wasn't close to his fellow recruiters, or he didn't particularly have a violent opinion about it. Darryl hoped for either, because he could easily see the two of them getting along. Stephen seemed like the type Darryl liked to hang around. He moved a bit when he spoke, he used his hands--fidgeted. Darryl fidgeted. He got along with like-minded people.

Darryl, while he'd done a splendid job of destroying his reputation (before he got one), after working at Hammel for only a few months. He knew it was all his fault--but at the time it hardly seemed like he was doing something wrong. "Ah no need to feel bad, I think I'm just coming up on the six month mark, maybe. I haven't really been keeping track, honestly." Darryl chuckled as he thought back, and tried to count back. Damn, it just might be that long ago. "How d'you like bein' a recruiter? It must be nice, all the traveling, 'n doin' good in the world." By doing good, he meant bringing in kids who were freshly meta and probably scared out of their minds.

[Stephen Gage]

"Oh, six months? Well, that's not too bad of me, then." Stephen waved away whatever insult he might have delivered unto Darryl. Once he'd finished that, he lifted the cup to his lips. Might as well give it a go. Stephen tilted it, taking a tentative sip from the cup. Yep, still hot. He swished it around his mouth, trying to keep the liquid from staying in one spot and burning away at his innards before he mustered the strength to swallow. Stephen put the cup down, laughing, his eyes watering slightly. "Yep, still hot."

His hands were clasped between his legs when Darryl asked a question, shaking a bit as his left leg bounced with anticipation. The man loved his tea, and loved meeting new people. The day was building up to be a good one, to be sure. One of his eyebrows cocked as the inquiry reached his brain. Ah, one of the standard ones. He was asked it often, and he'd long since had something prepared for these sort of occasions. "Oh, love it. Traveling can be a bit much at times, some points all I want to do is just come home and sleep, but it's all well worth it."

Stephen's hands released each other, one rested on his knee while the other waved about slightly as he spoke. "Don't know about how much good I do, you know, but I like to think I help. I get them here, anyway. After that, it's all you guys." His eyes had strayed somewhere past Darryl as he spoke, something just beyond the window catching his attention briefly. Nothing, just a leaf. Stephen's eyes returned themselves to Darryl, crinkling in a grin. This teacher seemed to be a rather kindred soul. Animated, friendly, a good conversationalist so far. Not exactly difficult to look at. Hammel had really been stepping up its hiring practices. Stephen wondered if any of the other recruiters knew about Darryl. They were gone less than he, given his love for places far away from (and fittingly warmer than) Vermont. If they didn't, he certainly had a few good things to say about him. "So how about you? Drama teacher? I just acclimated a girl to the Institute. Pale young thing. Had an interest in theatre, if I remember right." He laughed again, shaking his head in mock embarrassment. "Don't know enough about it myself, to be honest."

[Darryl Bond]

"Not at all," Darryl agreed with Stephen that it wasn't such a bad thing that the two of them haven't met. The guy was a recruiter after all, so it wasn't like he was in the Staff Lounge the same time every day that Darryl was (though he'd taken up to eating in his classroom or in the corner of the cafeteria since...yeah). Darryl had to hold back a chuckle as Stephen took a test-sip from his drink. Darryl could see his eyes water from here, and he felt bad. He'd been there not moments ago. Darryl's drink had only cooled faster because he had a smaller amount in a coffee cup, while that guy had a thermos, which insulated the drink. It'd take a tad bit longer for the drink to cool.

"There is always that," Darryl agreed. People wanted to travel, traveling people just wanted to stay in one place. You always want what you don't have. Except for Darryl. He hadn't wanted what he didn't have, and now he has it, and still doesn't really want it. "Though I bet it's still good to trade this bad weather for a few sunny ones, eh?" Darryl had acclimated to Vermont weather while he was here as a student, but years in California where the weather was only sunny and warm. He didn't like being out much in this crazy cold weather, however, he had to walk to and from work everyday so he had to get used to it again, and fast. Or invest in a car.

Darryl took a ginger sip of his tea, the sweetness slid down his throat as he adjusted his hat on his knee again. Then again, He rested his hand across his stomach as he reclined back and balanced his cup on his leg. The warmth almost burned a hole in his leg, but it was pleasant all the same. "Taking fresh metas out of the harsh environments and into this safe atmosphere? If that's not doing good..." Darryl trailed off, just to hold of from saying something so cliche. Even as he closed his mouth, he heard 'then I don't know what is' fill the air as if he had said it. Darryl didn't have a direct line with power training, but he liked to think that his Drama class was empowering people to be more vocal and socially adept.

Darryl would warn Stephen never to bring up Darryl's name in conversation with other recruiters. For everyone's sake.

"Oh, I couldn't ask for a better job. The stage is where I'm most comfortable. I love acting and the environment that comes hand in hand with it." Darryl stopped himself short of simply gushing about how much he loved his job, because there really wasn't an end to it. He stroked at his chin hair at what Stephen said about a pale girl with an interest in theatre. "Well, maybe I'll see her in class, then. There is always room for more, and all." When he admitted to not knowing much about it, Darryl didn't get all huffy and butt hurt about it. He knew not many people were fans of the theater, and things associated with it, and he could accept that. "Oh it's just a blast. I'm only marginally upset that there isn't a theater troupe in Pilot Ridge, it'd be great to take the kids to visit them. It really is quite fun, I'm sure almost everyone would enjoy being on stage."

[Stephen Gage]

Stephen's eyes opened wide as Darryl mentioned the warmer climates afforded by travel, his head nodding in strong agreement. Despite having spent much of his life in rather cold areas, Scotland and then Vermont, Stephen had never felt any sort of affection for chilly temperatures. While he still lived with his parents, he'd constantly badgered his mother to turn the heat up from September until early March, and his tenure in Vermont was spent avoiding as much time outdoors as possible during the winter months. While he was on campus, Stephen could occasionally be seen literally sprinting from building to building, likely setting records or breaking old ones as he did so. "You can say that again. Every time I get sent to Texas, you should see the smile on my face."

Stephen watched Darryl drink his tea with a small amount of harmless jealousy. Understanding that he still had some time before his own would cool down to an acceptable temperature, he reclined just as Darryl had, resting his right ankle across his left knee. He smiled a shade bashfully as Darryl lauded his efforts as a recruiter, choosing to brush it off with a small wave rather than bask in it. In truth, he'd always been just a mite jealous of power trainers: those who had conquered their own abilities enough to teach others how to do the same. He had not quite reached that level. Nor was he sure if he ever would.

But this was neither the time nor place for such thoughts, and they vanished as quickly as they'd come, replaced by the certainly more cheerful notion tha the was making a new friend. As enjoyable now as it was when he'd been in diapers. And if he could get this new friend to take care of one of his "kids," well, that would be all the better. "Name's Stella Pinyin. Shy, but seems nice. White hair, white skin, can't miss her."

Darryl's enjoyment of his job and of theatre at large was well evident in his words, and his expressions. As was his disappointment at the state of theatre in Pilot Ridge. Stephen's brow furrowed in thought briefly, then he spoke again. "Well, I'm sure you could probably fund something in town with the Institute's help. It might mean good publicity for the school, having some sort of community outreach program or something like that."

[Darryl Bond]

"Hmm," Darryl hummed in agreement. "I do miss the year round sun quite a bit." Most people didn't believe Darryl when he often bragged spoke about the California weather. The humidity was always in the decimal percentile, overcast was rare, and it was warm year-round. Snow only happened far north, and if you asked anyone in California, the north and south were two different states, even if they weren't exactly divided by a line. It was there.

When the conversation came up about power-trainers, Darryl felt a small bit of career-complex. Students at Hammel needed power trainers--core curriculum classes as well--but Darryl's class was just an elective. It wasn't as important as other classes, and while many people would easily sign up for his class for that 'easy A,' Darryl wished he had something better or more important to offer to the generation of students he was teaching, and would teach in the future.

"I will keep an eye out for her, then." Darryl smiled to his new friend (because making friends was that easy and simple for Darryl) about this Pinyin girl. If the girl surfaced in his class, or in the hallways when he was meandering about, he'd see if she would be interested in joining his class. Lord knew he needed more people that were actually interested in Theatre to be in his class.

"I'd thought of something similar, but with my particular class this semester, I think it'd be in everyone's better interest to continue as we were." Darryl loved his class, he really did, but there was just something between two of his students that made it impossible for them to...work together. They butted heads at everything. Zac had to be better than Sam, and no matter how good Sam actually did, Zac always had something to say about it. Harsh words would ensue, and if Darryl didn't step in with a scary voice (or just really loud) then they would start a brawl. Darryl was not about to inflict that upon a non-meta environment, especially with Sam's tendency to set things on fire. "It's truly a good theory, and would probably be a good thing to start to put together, but a few students of mine just aren't...ready to represent Hammel to the public." Not at all..