Pull the Cord IC Office Closed

@Henry Knight

The evening was for settling in, he’d said, and then collapsed into his worn desk chair. The office was currently painted in miscellaneous papers, many appearing official enough they’d happily find their home in a glass mount if those weren’t all occupied and hanging crooked in a shrine around his table. Rather than settle, Alois had been wandering between each corner of the small room, observing the mess from various angles as though he expected a new perspective to spring from beneath the disarray, a risen corpse. His right hand fumbled to a heavy drawer, and it complained as he pulled it from the casing, rifling through the documents it contained.

“Not here either,” The professor muttered to himself, jamming the drawer again into its slot with a deep sigh. There was a singular empty frame left propped on the back of one of the other chairs, waiting for its soulmate to shine through the mass of achievements. The rest would meet their end between the pages of a thick textbook, or haphazardly creased at the bottom of a packed chest.

This trance was fractured by a low growl, just registering the melodic sequence of bells that had resonated through the den. A chorus of displeased rattles joined through the sturdy wall, and the man hushed the creatures beneath his breath with widening eyes. Pushing himself from the seat, he rushed to pick up the scattered chronicles of his life that had rinsed the old flooring for the past day. Alois could be heard murmuring as he did so, occasionally examining the certificates and photographs, then tossing them onto the rising desk with a forlorn exhale.

Once the walkway was cleared of his poured archives, Professor Proulx went to open the leaden oak door, wincing when his thumb met the handle. A papercut, of all things. He brought the reddening cut to his lips, and unlocked the door with his other hand. “Come on in,” he invited, stepping to the side. A tan boy with disheveled dark hair stood outside, an orange cat keeping company. Clutched in his hands was a box which gave nothing away, and Alois looked skeptically at it.

“Excuse the state of this place,” He asked, brushing the clutter away to lean against his desk with a gesture toward an unoccupied chair. “Can I help you with something?” His palm massaged the opposite thumb, crimsoned slightly by the movement, but there was no obvious discomfort about his face. The man standing before his student was, in one swift change of demeanor, a stark contrast from the disorderly office that consumed him.

@Henry Knight

There was a moment’s hesitation before the boy entered the catastrophic office, his cat nibbling at his earlobe as he issued a semi-calm greeting. Alois was glancing awkwardly from side to side, comparing the chaos of his office with the overly formal clothing he’d found himself in that morning, yet still his lips remained in a firm horizontal line. There was little indication of his discontent aside from the shifting gaze, unwilling to meet his student’s for more than a flicker at a time. “You’re not a bother,” he reassured indifferently, again massaging his stinging thumb.

The cat perched on the young man’s shoulders did strike a small smile in the professor, one that was quick to evaporate when said student turned on his heel to address him once more. He was seemingly antsy, somewhat bouncing on his feet as he introduced himself, as though worried of first impressions. The thought nearly reintroduced that smile, a suppressed chuckle on the inner side of his teeth. First impressions were a specialty of neither party, given the current state of his office.

“Well, Henry, I’m Professor Proulx. I look forward to instructing you,” He’d have extended a hand at this time had the boy’s not both been occupied by the box, but there was no loss. His voice was exceptionally strict, kindness laced in the technicality of the words but rather absent in terms of his cadence. “Magizoology is a fine aspiration, hopefully we can help you achieve that goal.”

Alois accepted the box as Henry extended it, offering a nod and a nearly imperceptible upward turn of his lips. It opened easily, inside a wide assortment of treats surrounding a holiday card sporting a cute sketch of a niffler. The shallow grin deepened into his face, lasting mere seconds before falling back behind the homely shelter of his professional visage. “Thank you, Henry, this is an excellent welcome gift, and much appreciated,” The man turned to place the sweet gift in one of the scarce remaining spaces on the desk, near its center. “I can tell already you’ll be a fine student, eager for classes to begin,” A sentiment rarely shared by the student’s peers.

@Alois Proulx

A sudden rush of emotions and anxiety swirled within. Thundering overhead like a silent rainstorm and repeating words, actions for him to do. The teen dreaded toward words or ones simlair, ones sayinf that he wasn't bothering or a burden to another. Since to him, when his ears pick them up then his mind believes another thing.

The teen took a breath. Attempting to stay calm. Silently reminding himself that this class is his favorite and it would be beneficial to male a good first expression with the new professor. The teen nodded at the professor's introduction, his eyes met his extended hand and knew what would be the polite thing to do. He drew in a breath to cease the trembles of his hands as he reposition the box in his grip to shake the adult's hand with a soft smile as he replied"it is a pleasure, professor and I look forward toward learning from you and taking your class," withdrawing his hand back to holding the box the lad had to contain hia excitement. Care of magical creatures is one topic thay would usually always leave him smiling.

Henry nodded toward the man's words, he wished to achieve that aspiration but currently felt confused and seemingly worried about the future. He thought he planned it out, seek a path of magizoologist but not he faced conflicts. Is that what he wanted or is that fear speaking? Fear thay others would out cast and shunned him if they knew what he is? Shaking away the thoughts as he handed the box over to tje professor.

Stepping closer towsrd the door, Loki perched on his shoulder watched the professor. Tail flickering. Hard to say if the feline trusted the man's presence or not but the lad choose not to stick around long enough to find out.

Henry nodded toward the man, a soft smile. He merely want to make a good expression, set a image of himself in the man's eyes before class. The teen thought about staying quiet but didn't as he spoke"It could be a thank you gift as well, to thank you for the year ahead and all that I'm hoping to learn from you professor." Henry drew in a breath, slowly releasing it as he started to calm down. With little help from hia feline, the lad found the professor's presence as calming.

Nodding toward his words, the teen could have bounded up and down as if a small child exicted but didn't. He choose to remain still, nodding toward the words with a soft smile as he replied"I certainly am eager to learn and to expand my knowledge in the are of care of magical creatures," another nod as the teen remembered the words from earlier. He felt his mind spiral and thud with dreadful situations, the teen took a breath as he spoke"I shouldn't take up anymore of your day professor, I look forward to your class and hope you have a good rest of the day." A nod then smile as he allowed a moment to lass before turning and leaving the office and a bit more slowly, leaveing the classroom area.

Henry and Loki left the thread

@Henry Knight

There was a very slight air to their interaction, perhaps a flicker of recognition on the professor’s side of the room. A bias toward magizoology was not unknown to him, the rush to care for another creature and understand it as though it was your equal or greater. It was that very aspiration which woke him from his own daze of troublemaking, a saving grace he wished to pay forward during his time as a professor here. The corners of Proulx’s mouth tilted imperceptibly upward before again laying flat.

He wouldn’t risk ruining that chance with the idiocies that lingered in his thoughtful mind. A self-fulfilling prophecy, but one that could be defeated should he avoid leaning into that side of himself, at least not in the presence of impressionable minds. No, they should learn manners, proper behavior and above all else, the intricacies and dangers of various creatures unclouded by the bravery of pure love. The student displayed a genuine interest in the subject, an authentic infatuation, and truly those were hard to kill, but they could be suppressed for long enough to become nothing but a golden-tinted memory.

"It could be a thank you gift as well, to thank you for the year ahead and all that I'm hoping to learn from you professor."

It was quite sweet. An arrangement of treats to snack on as he continued to rifle through his mess of an office for the rest of that day, until it became another layer of things to discard of in the mass of papers. Alois glanced back toward it, allowing Henry’s words to paint a more thorough picture of its intentions. A teacher’s pet, perhaps, but he couldn’t be blamed. It was more flattering than not to be an idol of sorts, but it was also a brand of pressure that Alois was rather unfond of having on his shoulders. A familiar one, but only vaguely, as the last time, he’d fled the source.

“I’ll see that your lessons live up to your expectations,” He assured, and he meant it. Somewhere beneath all this parchment had to be his syllabus, though that wasn’t the target today.

A tension plagued the young boy, a visible stiffness to his posture and calculated, intentional breathing. This was not the professor’s area of expertise, so he allowed the anxieties to ride their waves, hoping time would draw them to the sand where they would disperse and soak. An attempt at a reassuring smile would come off rather awkward, so that was stifled immediately. Alois was exceptionally self-aware for a man with not a single mirror in sight. “It’s a vast subject, but we have many years together and much to look forward to.”

Announcing his departure, he was slow to reach the door. “Goodbye, Mr. Knight, warm regards.” A bizarre thing to say aloud, maybe, as the phrase was immortal through letters, but it had become a default ending to his interactions. As meticulously constructed as the rest of his appearance and impression, and again a direct contrast to the state of his office. When the door firmly closed behind the retreating Slytherin, Alois popped a sweet into his mouth and once again began to shuffle through the chaos, careful to protect his cut.

Interaction Closed