WHEN: 1943 APRIL 3; early afternoon - evening
WHO: Hector and Hon. Horace Grimwald, Dean of Students
WHERE: Khymeia Academy Dean's Office
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((My brain juice went pfffft when it came to log titles sorry))
[14:21] Hector: flap flap flap flap. Lands and clings to the items in his arms. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn't know what to expect, but he was impressed by the campus. It took him stopping and asking for directions on two separate times before he was headed up a flight of stairs. He followed some signs, squinted at some magical signs and then came to stop in front of a door. He looked left, right, and then left again. He opened his mouth but Maria appeared beside him, in her frilly most Sunday best dress. /'This should be it.'/ He wiggled his nose and glanced down. "Thank you. You maybe should not be manifesting? Not anything against you, but this IS a college campus...kind of..." Maria huffed and rolled her eyes before tossing her pigtails and disappearing.
[14:26] A standard letter on Khymeia letterhead was sent to Hector, relaying the date and time and location of the interview with Horace Grimwald, Dean of Students. Directions were included to help the prospective professor find the Dean's office, but the signs were easy enough and students were helpful enough - especially to someone as striking a figure. Hector's hat and wings stood out - he was likely asked questions, even if he didn't approach any of the milling-about Academy attendees himself. Once he got to the proper building it was a quick trip up the stairs to the door with "Hon. Horace Grimwald, Dean of Students" on the placard. The door was open, the sounds of smooth jazz playing quietly from the interior. It did not pause at the sound of voices, however quiet, from just outside.
[14:30] Hector: was a little embarrassed by the questions. Part of him assumed walking around with black wings wouldn't be that big of a deal. After all the one time he'd been above was just for the duel. It ended with a snek and Dorian diving off the edge with wings he thought were far more impressive than his own. Still, Hector was always genteel and surprisingly today...sober. At the Dean's office he closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and said a Prayer to the Mother Goddess before reaching out and knocking upon the door. He stayed outside but called out in a deep melodic voice. "Ahem, excuse me. Hector Graham...I have an interview with the Honorable Horace Grimwald. I...I'm sorry if I'm intruding."
[14:41] The jazz played on but from inside the office came a chipper voice, semi-robotic but emotive. "Welcome, Hector Graham! Do come in!" It was British. Very British. The door swung open as if bidden or prompted by the press of a switch - hard to tell which. Hector, with his Sight, felt no magic in that office but perhaps a Technomancer's touch on the workings of the 'body' Grimwald himself inhabited. The Dean has a human-shaped body, properly proportioned and nondescript otherwise. It seems like it should be anatomically correct but ascertaining if it's a true human body or automaton is impossible. Nothing is visible beneath the collar of his shirt and the mechanism that connects the brain jar to the rest of him, any skin covered in gloves and clothing. The brain itself is vividly colored, lit up with veins of Aether-powered wire that trail from the connection in the back of the jar and up over the brain itself. It's encased in some type of viscous fluid, a soft hum coming from the mantle that holds it above the body's shoulders. "Have a seat. I am Horace Grimwald, Dean of Students of Khymeia Academy. You are here to interview to be a Professor, correct?"
[14:47] Hector: enters swiftly, snapping his wings to his back. He didn't know what to expect beyond those doors, but a brain in a jar atop of what was likely some sort of automoton was NOT it. Strange white and black eyes went slightly wide behind his glasses and he reached up to rub at his eyes and then look at Horace again. He tilted his head one way, and then the other, glancing around the room and looking through the world. People rarely looked 'as is' to Hector and sometimes ghosts would just phase themselves into people and make them look like they had two heads, or a finger sticking out of their nose. Ghosts fucked with Hector on a daily basis. They had all his life. Sometimes he literally had to sit and pick out what was what. However, he has only basic usage of Technomancy and so while he can recognize it...it doesn't mix well with Necromancer. At least not yet. He opened his mouth, closed it, adjusted his glasses and then stepped forward to jut out his hand to shake it. "Yes." He smiled. His wings gave a little shiver and he cleared his throat. "Hector Julian Graham...Necromantic Witch of the Peterson Illuminate Witches."
[14:52] There was, oddly enough, no spirit or soul to speak of lingering around the Dean's body. It seemed simply to be, to move around and exist with whatever was going on inside it hidden behind the clothes. The brain-jar inclined a little bit, something of a nod as Horace seemed to stare at the offered hand. A moment or two, processing, and he took the hand and shook it, his own grip firm, the movements mechanical. "Pleased to meet you, Hector Julian Graham, Nectromantic Witch of the Peterson Illuminate Witches," he stated happily, his voice matching the cadence and pitch and inflection of Hector's own flawlessly. Once his hand was done with two or three up-and-down motions of a handshake he pulled it back. "Do you have a title or designation you prefer to be addressed by, Hector Julian Graham, Nectromantic Witch of the Peterson Illuminate Witches?"
[14:56] Hector: is absolutely fascinated. Horace is both interesting and a little 'frightening.' He cannot recall ever meeting anything that didn't have at least a faint echo of a spirit. He's having this internal battle about whether or not Horace was 'alive' and then wondering to himself if it really mattered? Clearing his throat he offered a bright smile. "Please, just call me Hector. Ah...forgive me. This is probably the absolute worst way to start an interview. But may I ask you a semi-personal question from an academic stand-point? Obviously, you do not have to answer and are well within your rights to tell me to sit down or get out. I have...never met anyone quite like you and seeing as I travel quite a bit, that's saying something."
[15:00] Another moment of silence... or two, but briefer. "Hector. Very well, Hector. You are here for an interview for the position of Professor in the school of Necromancy. Of course, you may ask questions or voice concerns." Horace did not really move too much. He straightened up from where he'd bent to look down at Hector's hand but he didn't make a step, simply folding his arms behind his back and clasping hand in hand.
[15:06] Hector: nods and replies, "Yes that's correct. Forgive me, I merely wondered if you are sentient. Forgive me if that's rude to ask. I have never encountered anyone animated as you seem to be. I have only a rudimentary understanding of Technomancy that I taught myself in order to play music using Aether. Despite being a Master of Necromancy...I have always left Life and Death on the spectrum that it was and not really mixed much." A slight shrug as he started to place documents upon the desk before the Dean. "In light of a recent explosion in the city on a spiritual wavelength...seeing you makes me, pause my initial assessment of what needs to be done with the energy left over." Wings shiver.
[15:11] The Dean seemed stymied by this - or perhaps whatever internal processes that made "him" up were. "Technomancy," he began, lifting a gloved hand and then his index finger. "is the magical art that helps the flesh and spirit surpass the boundaries of human limitation with the ever-growing body of technological genius of this world." It sounded like response to his question and... definition? Perhaps? All at once. "I act in capacity of Dean of Students for the Academy, which involves many very important decisions. I am sentient," he said briskly.
[15:16] Hector: smirks faintly and tilts his head, before offering a bow. "Truly, I did not mean to offend. Perhaps a bit of an explanation? Normally I wouldn't have asked at all, as it is not my business. However, there was an explosion in the spirit world recently that has reduced hundreds, perhaps even thousands of ghosts to...pieces? That is the best way that I can describe it. From my perspective, these 'pieces' are no longer fully thinking, functioning 'people.' More like body parts that are being kept alive." Motions to the Dean. "However, what if I'm wrong?" He made a sad face, glancing down before shaking his head and letting out a sigh. "I would never wish to harm anyone, no matter their situation, if I could ever help it." He shook his head. "However, that leads me to why I applied in the first place. I think it is important for any magic user to have at least a basic understanding of the Veil and why it is important it be protected. The state of the spirit realm of this island is...quite frankly, bad." He placed down his resume' and a few other documents, including a telegram from a 'Nahalenia Peterson' and a sealed box about the size of his palm.
[15:22] The Dean tilted his head toward one shoulder. He twitched a little, more a full-body shudder like an engine sputtering than anything else. "I will happily provide an explanation of the position, Hector! Professors are responsible for producing and implementing training and lesson plans to assist students with the learning and development of their chosen school of magic. Professors of Necromancy must demonstrate not only an ability in the Necromantic arts but the aptitude to convey understanding and skill to the students under their sway, as well as safely dispatch or otherwise assist with the passing-on of wayward spirits that may be drawn in or summoned by class proceedings." He turned a little and looked down, spying the resume that Hector had set down. The other things... he seemed to ignore. "Ah, you have brought your resume!" he chirped and plucked it up, bringing it up to what would be comfortable reading level - or what would have been, had he proper eyes. He was either avoiding the topic(s) willfully or not able to follow the course of Hector's conversation.
[15:29] Hector: isn't sure what to make of the Dean. He wants to believe he truly is sentient, but part of him feels like he's talking to a recording. He lets it fall to the way-side. If anything, maybe once this was over he would feel a bit better about the decision he was having to make. For a moment he thought he was making a terrible mistake and would have literally found a million jars to keep people in, but not only was that not feasible, it was likely not necessary. He smiled and nodded sharply, standing up straight and putting his hands behind his back to stand at attention. "Yes, I brought my resume' and other documents as requested, including a message from the current Matriarch of the Peterson Witches and what I assume..." He motioned to the little box. "Is a magical blood test to prove I am who I say I am. 'Documentation' of a birth such as mine is not often kept unless it's under lock and key, but blood cannot lie." He drew in a breath and nodded a few times. "I understand. Thank you for explaining. I travel with three spirit companions that are bound to me and they enjoy training the living. They certainly did with me when I was younger." Smirks.
[15:47] Horace 'looked' over the resume with some thoughtful hums, his free hand moving up to mime combing through a beard he did not have. "You have substantial experience in Witchcraft, Potion-Making, Healing. Warding... Occult Studies, very good, yes. Do you have much experience dabbling in the Necromantic arts specifically? Perhaps would you be interested in being a Professor for our Witchcraft college instead?" he asked with a tilt of his head. "Oh, ah - flying. We do have a few that could use some... lessons in FLIGHT. Forward and - UPWARD to a brighter future, eh?" The chuckle that issued was, like his voice, robotic and a bit TOO even in beat. He set the resume down and looked over the other items, first the message, then the blood test - though the latter he only really opened up, peered at, closed and set back down again before folding his hands behind his back. Horace's jar turned one way, then the other when told of Hector's companions. The wires in his jar lit briefly as if charging with an additional sort of Aetheric energy. "I see!" he said, still chipper, without specifying exactly it was he was 'seeing.'
[15:53] Hector: shifts a little reaching back to rub at the back of his neck. He purses his lips and then looks back to the Dean. "My expertise in Necromancy sadly not academic. The only way that I can 'prove' it is to, show it, I suppose. I'm a Grim Reaper." Making a clucking noise with his tongue and then offers a shrug and a sheepish sort of smile. Then the Dean said he could 'see' and Hector actually glanced to his sides to look toward his companions. "You do?" He smirked and then motioned to the ghosts at his side. "Well, the dead can certainly attest to my prowess in Necromancy. And I also have this." He held up his hand and the sign of Abe no Seimei lit up brightly. "One of the Monks from the Temple taught me the Exorcism of Abe no Seimei." He puffed out his cheeks and shifted. "I have the ability to help souls cross over, I can speak with the dead, I can control the dead, I can command the dead. I can raise the dead. The dead have been my friends and family since I was born." He motioned beside him. "This is Maria, Agatha and the shadow we merely call 'Hatman.'"
[15:59] At the explanation and the show of the mark, Horace straightened up and seemed to mime fixing his glasses on his face. He fell silent, again taking a moment to 'process'. When responding to the mark proved too complicated, Horace instead turned to the companions that Hector gestured to. "Are there titles or designations you prefer to be addressed by, Maria, Agatha, and shadow that is merely called Hatman?" he asked, polite and British but in exactly the same inflection he'd used when asking Hector.
[16:05] Hector: closed his eyes and silently prayed that the ghosts did NOT do what they normally did when they got some attention...which was be assholes. He opened his eyes and looked at Hatman in a 'don't you dare' sort of way. Agatha just sort of made a gurgling noise. "That means, Agatha is fine, thank you." Maria made a curtsy, /'My name is Maria Gloria Hope Sanchez...but please, call me Maria.'/ Hatman merely shook his hatted head. "Ahem, unfortunately, normally a person such as myself would have been put into schooling with my Witch family but my mother absconded with an undesirable man. That is why my name is 'Graham' and not 'Peterson.' My father was mundane and my mother desired a mundane child. Their union produced me, instead and so for many years my Necromantic studies were 'self-studies.' By the time I entered the Coven, I was beyond the teachers the provided teachers, already."
[16:11] Horace put an arm to his waist and creaked into an odd bow. "Pleasure to meet you all!" he responded before straightening up again. When Hector was finished explaining his lack of formal Necromantic education Horace simply spread his hands in an open gesture. "Experience is experience. Will Maria, Agatha, and ... " there was a pause and a little twitch of his fingers that betrayed he did not do too well with not having a strict confirmation of 'Hatman''s name, " ... Hatman be your teaching assistants for courses? And do you have a required salary and start date? Do you require lodgings? We do have space for faculty residence on campus."
[16:17] Hector: let out a little chuckle and played with one of the piercings in his lower lip thoughtfully. "Well, if simply experience counts, then about 70 years of daily interaction and use of Necromantic Magics. I have seen more souls to their next lives than I can count anymore. I see the world in constant Life and Death. The dead over-lay the living at all times and I can converse with them just as easily as I can with you. Perhaps easier, since they can talk straight to my mind if they really want to." He shrugged. "I don't know everything. I do not believe anyone does. Not even Death Gods themselves. But what I do know, I know well. And you won't find a person that is more dedicated to the dead than I. I do not see Necromancy as a means to other magics, nor do I see ghosts as pawns or mana batteries. They are my friends and I am on this plane of existence to help them be better understood. Not unlike...a Biologist who explains micro-organisms." Then came the questions. "Yes they will. Umm, money is of little issue for me. As long as I can make a living. If I can, I'd like to start as soon as possible. I do not require lodging, I have my own apartment in town, though I appreciate the offer."
[16:22] The Dean processed these questions with another little grindy silence before clapping his gloved hands together with a soft PAP! "Very good, welcome to the staff of Khymeia Academy, Hector!" he proclaimed. Lifting his feet, he made awkwardly stiff steps toward the necromancer, pausing outside Hector's wingspan to extend a gloved hand for a handshake. "I am sure your future pupils will benefit greatly from your attitude and expertise! It is my hope that you can convey the wisdom you have accumulated to the students that come seeking tutelage in the Necromantic Magics. A letter containing your formal offer along with start date, job description, and other such sundries will be sent to you post-haste."
[16:26] Hector: just sort of blinks. "O-oh, ok." He shakes the hand back. Hector, bless him for all the trying to remain optimistic about things, he tends to not really be. He's always waiting for other shoe to drop. Speaking with Alex the night before and finding out they had been the ones that caused the explosion had only cemented things for him that shit was about to go sideways again. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Thank you so much for taking the time to see me." He smiled, feeling his eyes sting. He wasn't going to cry, but right then he felt so relieved to have gotten through something successfully. He felt a little light headed and his first thought was that he needed to stop by the Windgrace Manor. "I look forward to the missive and will be looking for it to arrive."
[16:28] The handshake was that same two or three up-and-downs before Horace let go and retreated behind his desk, positioning himself in a spot of wood that by now must have been a little worn from all the slight movement in just that area. He tucked his arms behind his back and clasped his hands together. "Of course! Thank you for your interest in and commitment to the position!" he chirped. "Please feel free to get acquainted with the campus. If you require a tour, a Placement and Productivity student can be assigned to assist." The door swung open again, as if on springs. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Hector, Maria, Agatha, and .... Hatman." [16:32] Hector: is trying very hard not to start tippy tapping back and forth like a Shiba Inu. His wings wrap around himself to give himself a self squeeze to make sure that he doesn't move or do anything too silly. He nods sharply and then moves to take the things that Horace did not use, including the little sealed box. He slid it into his pocket and then started toward the door. "They are very happy to have you acknowledge them. Thank you again. I am going to have a little...fly around." He chuckled and then started out the door assuming there was nothing else.