God Save The Queen (closed)

[John Thornton]

If there was one thing England did better then anywhere else, it was pubs. And maybe theatre... but mostly, it was the pubs. And John Thornton was really missing being able to walk through The Dying Swan, the Bloody Boar, The Elephant and the Wheelbarrow and at least three others, on the way home from the office.

Thornton rarely drank in excess but sometimes, after a hard day, a pint of Guinness was not only pleasant but a god driven necessity. And after... (what was it, two weeks? less?) at Hammel, and more delays in picking up Addie (what if they changed their minds?) and meeting some of the students, John Thornton thought he deserved at least two, maybe even three pints.

So many pints.

There was a bar or two down this end, but mostly clubs. Loud, noisy things full of underdressed oversexed young people drinking things with more sugar in them then most chocolate bars (not candy. chocolate was not ‘candy’). But he’d heard a few of the teachers (his peers, he supposed) mention one that even the ever increasing number of staff that seemed to be migrating from the UK had found bearable. Thornton didn’t know anyone enough to ask them to join him for a drink, but that was alright. The stern looking man was more then used to his own company.

It was cold outside, Thornton knew because he had heard all the students complaining about it. And he could feel the chill on his face, and the warmth when he went inside, but he felt no need to take off his coat. The scarf however, he did remove. Because it looked strange if he left it on. And while he assumed, given the school, that the people here were used to unusual behaviour, he'd spent a lifetime learning to blend in. Old habits died hard.

Ordering, paying, sitting at a table alone out the back with a book (something about a girl with a dragon tattoo... it had seemed like something to read on the plane and he hadn’t finished...).

If it wasn’t for the accents and the name of the place, he may as well have been back in London.

[Miles Clay]

Miles Clay was cold. He was actually rather regretting his decision to go on a walk at the moment. He pulled a blue jacket from the clothing dimension, putting it on as he walked. Being a meta had its advantages. He was humming along to the sounds emanating from his ear buds, ear buds which were quite contentedly attached to an iphone. He smiled a a woman who was passing by; after she had passed, he instinctively rubbed his head, a holdover from more self-conscious days.

Deciding that he would much like a bit of warmth and friendliness, Miles entered the bar he had grown rather accustomed to patronizing. He rarely ordered more than one beer, and generally just socialized with either the barkeep or anyone who seemed amiable. The bartender recognized him, and Miles simply asked for "the usual."
Guinness in hand, Miles looked around the bar, his eyes stopping as he noticed a rather austere looking man wearing a coat. I swear I've seen that man somewhere. Here? No, that's not it...does he work at Hammel? Perhaps I'll ask him.

Approaching the other man, and removing his headphones, Miles asked aloud. "Excuse me, but do you work at Hammel? I can't help thinking that I've seen you around a few times. I'm Miles Clay, by the way."

[John Thornton]

The book had been abandoned, and John was considering if it would be rude to throw it across the room.Who thought it was at all acceptable to write a detailed rape scene in a thriller? The author had been a communist; trust. His usually stern expression had grown steadily darker as he turned the pages, until he’d pushed the thing aside with disgust. The dark furrowed brows and general stern appearance had dissuaded the one or two women who had thought to ask to sit with him, but oblivious, all John had noticed was that his glass was almost empty.

In the middle of contemplating the pros and cons of getting up and buying another when a, well, from his position sitting down, a well dressed mountain of a man lent over the table and spoke to him. The foreboding expression Thornton’s features settled in so naturally cracked a little as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was vaguely familiar, and not the sort of person John could imagine forgetting. The man’s words mad sense of the matter and John offered his hand.

”Just started,” He explained, his voice thick with the northern english accent he hadn’t been able to shake after years in london. Looking around, he shifting down in case his fellow staff member wished to join him. ”I’ve been poking about the campus, trying to make sure I don’t get lost when I start, ah, training.” Was Mr Clay a teacher, or a power trainer, or a recruiter, or something else? There were.. a lot of staff at Hammel. And if the students were anything to go by, the englishman expected most of them to be half mad. ”Thornton. John Thornton.”

There was a slightly awkward pause; it had been rather a long time since John had made small talk, and he was never particularly good at it. ”So, you teach at Hammel as well then?” he offered as some way to start a conversation. This was his first real adult communication since those phone calls about transferring; he was going to try and make the most of it.

[Miles Clay]

(OOC: Sorry for taking so long. I probably won't be on hammel very much for the rest of spring break, but I'll try to get a few more responses in.)

Miles' first impression of the man named John Thorton was one of stiffness. The man seemed unaccustomed to human interaction, and, to Miles' more outgoing mind, seemed reluctant to change this status. Miles hesitated for a second, unsure as to whether Thorton would prefer him staying or leaving, and trying to pick up on some sign from the man's body language. Trying to read the man was like trying to watch C-Span, a worthy cause, but one doomed to failure. Deciding to risk being a nuiscence in hopes of making a friend, Miles adressed the man, "Mind if I sit down?"

Sitting himself down gracefully, Miles sipped at his beer. In response to the inquiry, he smiled. "I don't actually teach at hammel, but I'm a counselor there. I just started recently. You're new here as well then? Us newer people have to stick together. Do you come here often?"