tailor_made | The Principal's Office

[ Orpheus enters the principal's office for the first time on Sunday, unsure of whether this is something he's supposed to be doing but feeling the deep conviction that he should. He looks a little guilty as he does, all the same - for the feeling of trespassing on someone else's valuable time as well as the fact that, well. When the fire started on the stage, and Maya and Peregrine and the others went to try to go to Hester's aid, he fled. But that last one is also why he's here, now. ]

Excuse me? Miss Hester? Are you there?

Yeah...the shock... [Hester touches her leg gingerly, free of blood and glass, perfectly fine. Not even a run in her stocking. It's not a surprise, she's seen him do magic from the day they'd met on the train. Truth be told even now, months later, she still gets a little dazzled when he does it.] It's-it's better. Thank you.

[She sits there quietly for a long minute, just looking at the spot where the wound had been, before slowly raising her eyes to look at Will.]

Mr. Weidman, why me? What made me special enough for you to choose me?

[This is fine. This is better than asking him why she was included in Salieri's photo. Asking what's wrong with her, why her sleep comes in fits, why she keeps remembering the wrong things about her own life.]

[After his breakdown in the garden, and the new bodies are buried, an empty and defeated Benjamin Barker

BENJAMIN! BARKER!

comes into Hester's office and takes a seat, putting his head in his hands.]

...You knew. You knew all along, didn't you?

[There's no malice in his voice - there's no malice in him. Not anymore. Everything inside of him is burnt out, leaving only a jar full of ashes.]

[In her chair, still dressed in her little black and green dress from the trial with a distant look on her face, Hester just watches him for a long minute before nodding slowly.]

...You're not what I expected, Mr. Barker. ["The Demon Barber of Fleet Street", befriending historical composers and being kind to ex-cheerleaders.]

Edited 2021-07-05 04:28 (UTC)

[He flinches at the name, but doesn't offer an alternative. Just keeps his head low.]

He made me into a monster. Fifteen years ago- [His voice cracks, and his hands tighten in his hair.] Five weeks ago, I was...

I thought I was a good man.

[Good men are not ones that never make mistakes, they're ones that don't ignore them.

He takes his left hand from his hair and clenches it tight into a fist. The bandage wrapped around it is seeping blood.]

Why couldn't you just let me die?

Edited 2021-07-05 04:30 (UTC)

Why, what's in the dark? [Hester stares at her, her expression blank for a few seconds before the penny drops.] ...Oh, you meant- Sorry. [She runs her hands down her face and lets the towel covering her hair fall onto the floor.]

I'm not...I'm not quite all here today. [An understatement, Hester, you dissociated in the rain for an unknown amount of time.] For a second I thought maybe that Mothman thing had shown back up again.

It's open, Maya. It always is.

[Hester is, per usual, in her chair just lightly turning back and forth on the swivel. She looks tired but she always looks tired nowadays. What's really unusual is that she's still wearing her dress from the trial. It's rumpled and wrinkled in several places on the skirt but undoubtedly the same one.]

...Hi.

Even if it is open, it's... still polite to knock, right?

[Maya closes the door behind her, and then takes off the belt holding up her sword. She leaves it at the doorway -- no unnecessary threats.]

You... do not look so well. Can I see your leg?

[Since Orpheus hasn't been in here before, he is probably going to notice several things right off the bat. Firstly, a vase of several kinds of colorful flowers that look like kinds found on the roof garden. Secondly, an empty plate covered in pale crumbs next to a little yellow ceramic tea pot with two matching tea cups. And third an impressive poster of whoever this guy is on the back wall.

Hester's desk is front and center in the room, cutting the room nearly in half but her chair is empty. Behind the desk there's a dark green leather couch covered with a bright yellow fuzzy blanket and, after a few seconds, the blanket moves and Hester lifts her head from under it. She blinks slowly, trying to process exactly who's come in in her half-asleep state.]

Oh- Orpheus? Is that you?

I...I guess it is, yeah. [Hester watches her take off her sword, tilting her head a little in half-curiosity but mostly she seems out of it, distracted but slightly more put together than she was the week before.]

If, um, if you want to. There's not much to worry over right now.

[Hester doesn't respond right away. Instead she wordlessly pulls open the top drawer of her desk and pulls out a small first aid kit. She sets it on the corner of her desk before holding out her own hand to him.]

Can I see your hand? [She swallows a little, looking at him intently like she's trying very hard to maintain focus and not let the threat of her mind wandering more than it already is take hold.] ...Please? Then we can talk.

[Too late. Maya's already kneeling down beside her. This is, unfortunately, not how Maya might have fantasized about something like this happening but. Whatever. It's fine. She lays a hand against Hester's calf and tries to coax her into extending her leg.

How's it looking?]

[Hester extends her leg without protest, a small blush creeping into her cheeks.

It's grounding, having someone touch her when she's felt so out place in her own skin lately. A hand in her hair, hands on her shoulders, being hugged so tight she could barely breathe- they'd all been an anchor to keep her drifting thoughts rooted. And Maya's hands feel...nice on her skin. Yup, just nice. Nothing else to it, nope. Just two girls hanging out while one feels up the other's leg. Not wondering about anything else.

But as for her injured leg it's perfectly healed. Not even a run in her stocking.]

He, um, the Wizard fixed it right after the trial. [She reaches down to run her fingers over her shin, remembering burns and glass and blood that don't exist anymore.] He was so quick it...it didn't even hurt.

Oh, um. Sorry, for waking you up. [ he says. ] I can come back later? But, I brought you some breakfast, if you want it.

[ It's just a glass of orange juice, scrambled eggs, and toast, but he didn't want to make anything too complicated in case she'd already eaten, or didn't... need to eat? Or something. He'll set it down on her desk. ]

Are you doing all right, though?

That's good, then.

[Despite her distrust, despite Nana's distrust, it's good that Hester is taken care of. The alternative of her still being injured after all of this time, is an extremely unpleasant one.

She stands up, instead reaching her hands out for Hester's.]

And... how are you feeling otherwise?

Uhhh, no. No mothman. [She shakes her head. It stretches the shadows of candlelight into odd angles on her face.] It's just us in here. Never thought I'd be so happy about that.

[She watches Hester, and... Yeah, she concurs. This woman is not all here.] Are you sure you're alright? You seem to be... struggling.

[He kind of expects an answer to be a long time coming. But when she doesn't answer his question at all, he looks up at her, finally.

His blue eyes are bloodshot and wet from tears, and the expression he gives her is...shocked. That anyone could know what he's done, and still be gentle to him, still look at him, even.

Wordlessly, meekly, he stands from the chair and goes to her desk, and puts his left hand in hers.

Up close, the bandage that Farrah applied in the trial is twisted, crusted together with dried blood, and the cloth and the undamaged parts of his hand are dirty from his rotten work in the garden, earth beneath his fingernails and green grass stains on the bandage.

The cut beneath peeks out, raw and hot and open. Technically, it probably needs stitches.]

...Why are you helping me?

[ On Monday, when she's regained a marginal amount of life to her, Peregrine goes to visit Hester. She is, in some way, relieved that the door isn't locked. ]

Hester? You in here?

[Assured that the damage is fixed, Will gets up off the ground and sits heavily next to her on the couch. His hands are shaking, he notices absently. He hadn't realized he was that upset...

But Hester asks a question, and he just folds them together to keep the tremor from being visible. He's got a lot of practice at that sort of thing - no worse way to ruin a loop than by letting someone see how off-script he'd gotten.]

I - [That's a hard question to answer. Will thinks for a moment, then looks away with a pained smile.] - I guess I can...see a lot of my younger self in you.

[How many times has he said that? How many times has he said that? She's like Rachel and Finn all at once, and even -

- he takes a breath. Don't let them see you go off-script.]

I'm... [She laughs weakly and pushes back a section of her wet hair.] Maybe a little. I'm guessing word's been getting around the school about my struggle bus-ing.

No, no, it was just a little catnap- [She throws off the blanket and rolls off her couch, clambering to her feet and trying to look put-together and not like she fell asleep in her clothes- the same rumpled dress she wore at the trial.

She looks at the breakfast he's made, the clear effort he's put in even though it's such a simple meal, and a warm smile breaks out on her tired face.]

I'm...I'm doing okay. Better than I was, I think. [At that moment her stomach grows loudly.] And, um, thank you for the breakfast. With everything happening I forgot to eat again.

[Hester takes her hands without thinking. It's almost become instinct now, holding hands with people. She's pretty sure she's done this more in the past few weeks than she ever had in her life before.]

More solid, if that makes any sense. I actually managed to sleep for more than an hour, that'll make Peregrine happy. [She gives Maya's hands a small squeeze, peering up at her with furrowed brows.] What about you?

[Hester flinches when she sees the wound, a memory of blood and glass still fresh in her mind, but she powers through it. She unwraps the bandage, a frown creeping across her mouth as she looks the wound over, before she opens the kit and pulls out some cotton pads and a small bottle of antiseptic. It's not ideal but she's sure she still has a needle and some embroidery thread from her previous craft project.]

...Because it's why I'm here. To help. To keep you all comfortable. [She douses the pad of cotton in the antiseptic.] And to keep you from having to deal with an infected cut- this is probably going to hurt, just a warning. [She dabs at the area around the cut to clean away the blood and dirt.]

[Hester watches him, tries to take in his every facial tick. Something inside her is telling her there's more to it, that he's keeping more secrets- but more than that she doesn't want to believe he is. He cares about her. He wouldn't lie to her, even if he does have a few secrets.

She reaches over and lays her hands over his. Her mind is still racing from the adrenaline, questions just flying from her mouth without much thought as to why she needs to ask them now, just that she needs to talk or she might explode or lose time again or worse.]

What is it you see though? You didn't know me before we met on the train- did you?

I'm in, Peregrine. [There she is, the assistant director herself, poised at her desk with tea and cookies. She looks...more put together than she has the past two weeks, less pale and about to collapse in exhaustion at a moment's notice. She taps a final key on her keyboard and turns her head to look at Peregrine with a small, worried smile.]

Hi.

The Principal's Office

no subject

no subject

Week 6, Sunday afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

WEEK 6, MONDAY

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject