xavier_institute_ooc | (no subject)

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*test drive meme

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THE TEST DRIVE MEME

Hello, True Believers!

This is for anyone wanting to test out their characters in the setting before the applications open, see what clicks. Multiples will be allowed for this post, and you can generally assume any threads are a self-contained continuity unless you feel like getting creative.

Just post a thread with your CHARACTER NAME and CANON NAME in the title with a prompt and others will reply. Prompts and threads can be action spam or prose or whatever. These threads can be used on the sample section of your application, as well. Go out and have fun!

Be sure to read up on all game information and the "!event" tag to make sure you have all your ducks in a row.

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1. Office hours:
[Simon's office is small, but as it's in the corner of the building, it has two windows which let in a lot of light. Most of the available wall space is covered with music posters or framed images, like the old Smiths poster from when he was a teenager. There's also a framed copy of Yeats' "The Circus Animals' Desertion." Even for those who don't know, it's really not hard to guess that Simon is Irish, but his cramped bookshelves feature poets and novelists and philosophers from all over the globe. Students are welcome to borrow his books; he has some rarer titles that aren't featured in the library.

Students are welcome to see him about anything they're concerned with. Simon is known as a harsh grader, but he's not heartless. He's also an advisor for the poetry club and debate club.

His appearance is perhaps intimidating—with his deathly, pallid skin and odd white eyes—but he's not the oddest looking person around here, and his open door welcomes all visitors, students or faculty.]

2. Network:
Good afternoon. I'd like to welcome any new students, say hello to those who have been here for some time, and also to introduce myself to anyone unfamiliar with me, as I do periodically. It's a good idea for us to keep in touch and know each other's faces. I'm Simon Monroe. I teach creative writing and performing arts, as well as speech classes here at the school.

For the aspiring writers among you, I'd like to remind you about our literary magazine. Submissions are currently open for our next issue. We're accepting all forms of the written word, as well as illustrations. And if you have a film or multimedia project, you're free to submit that as well. We do host works of all kinds on our website.

[Anyone who's listening and may be susceptible to such things may suddenly find themselves with the urge to go and submit to the literary magazine, but it's easily ignorable, except for the highly suggestible. He doesn't mean to do it. These things just happen sometimes.]

If you have any questions, you can reply here or visit me during my office hours, which do vary but are posted online.

3. Public lounge:
[Simon had ducked into one of the lounges to watch the president's address between classes. He listens attentively throughout the brief speech, and then once it's done, he snorts loudly, all but rolling his eyes before shaking his head. He's clearly not impressed.]

Aqua finished setting up her office, and still no students had arrived. She pushed herself away from the desk. It wasn't like her to stay in a quiet room, alone, unless she was meditating or studying. Even then, though, there was usually the sound of Terra and Ven doing the same. She missed them, a constant ache in her heart. She needed to move, she needed to either have something productive to do, or at least some exercise. Anything but this true silence.

That decided, she headed down the hall, and stopped when she noticed the open door in the corner of the hall. Light spilled out in a way that implied either windows or egress. Either way, it was something to try. She turned on her heel, soft soled winged boots announcing her steps softly as she made her way to the door.

She did not poke her head around the corner, she made no attempt to be stealthy. She stood in the door frame to look in. She spotted the windows first, then the book cases; then her conscious mind caught up to her instincts and she focused on the man. Probably another master. No, teacher, she reminded herself.

"Hello," Aqua said in her slightly haunting, yet still friendly voice.

"Good afternoon." He raised his head from his desk to regard the woman who'd just appeared in his doorway. Not a student, he was guessing, based on her appearance, not that appearance could always be relied on. New people weren't an odd sight around here, regardless, and he wasn't surprised. He hadn't been here that long himself, but long enough for all his newness to wear off and his library to grow to a semi-respectable size.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" His tone was on the dry side, but not unfriendly. If she was new, maybe she had questions about something? "Come in. Feel free."

She nodded once, in humble gratitude for the invitation and stepped inside the room. "My name is Ma... Aqua. Aqua Wayfinder, as I would be called here. I was sent by my M... my teacher, to come aid at this school, to teach and train under Professor Charles Xavier, to help his children, as I once helped at home. I saw your door open and came to meet the others who will also be serving." she offered him a small, almost sad smile.

"Simon Monroe," he replied, introducing himself in kind, with a nod.

"I'm afraid I must disappoint you in part, as I don't see myself as a servant. We're all colleagues. Partners. Equals in this fight. But it's a pleasure to meet a colleague, nonetheless, Ms. Wayfinder." Simon spoke matter-of-factly. He wasn't interested in starting a disagreement, just stating his opinion. "And we're agreed in our aims, as I'm also concerned with the welfare of the students here." He quirked his lips, briefly, returning her smile.

"When I said serve, that was not quite in the way that I intended. I apologize, English is not my first language. And please, call me Aqua," she requested. She smiled softly, then looked at the books. "Quite the collection," she said impressed.

"No need to apologize. I'm not offended." Simon simply liked to take his opportunities to opine. As you're still learning, it wouldn't be fair of me to chastise you for any miscommunications that arise. He added, "Though there are those who might take offense to the term." It was better that she realized that. Words did have power, and using the wrong ones had consequences, as he knew very well.

"Aqua it is. You may call me Simon." He followed her gaze. "Thank you. I admit, I do spend too much of my money on books. If you ever want to borrow one, be my guest."

"I thank you for that kind offer, I might avail myself of it." she nodded slightly in gratitude. "If the word serve is the incorrect term, what would be the correct one? As I understand it, to serve is to do work for and with a person or cause that you feel strongly about. I served my master as a student, and I will serve the teachers here as a teacher, as well as serving the students as the same. I will share my expertise and abilities as I can, as they are needed."

"Please do. Especially if you're practicing English, they might be of some help."

He considered her question. "I think it's the context. Here, you're teaching and mentoring the students and collaborating with the faculty and staff. Working with them. Service implies working for, often in a subordinate position. Though maybe it's just me. I tend to be more sensitive to words than most people." Literally.

"I personally don't consider myself a servant of Professor Xavier. But you're welcome to do so, if you like." He knows he doesn't agree with a lot of the people here, and he doesn't expect them to agree with him.

"That's a noble goal."

"I will take that into consideration," she said with a nod, turning over his comments about context in her mind. "I will admit that of all the languages my Master bade me to learn, English is perhaps the most complex to speak. Japanese may well be the most complex to read, though a background in ancient Chinese helps.. somewhat." She smiled a bit at that, remembering fondly the days spent studying and practicing with Terra and Ven. Her heart warmed at the thought of them, and she wondered what they would think of this place.

"The difference between the meaning of service and servant is interesting. Is there a tome you could recommend that might clarify examples like that?"

What kind of performing arts?

I'm a musician myself, but I have some experience with acting and performance poetry, so I pick up the odd theatre class as well.

Not much of a dancer, I'm afraid.

Really? Same here, although Tohma told me that my dance should only be used if I want to set things on fire or melt fans. Although I always got to wonder about the fan thing, wouldn't melting hurt?

Yes, really. I'm pleased to meet a colleague in the arts.

I think I agree with this Tohma. Let's avoid any melting. It certainly sounds as if it would hurt quite a lot, unless Tohma was speaking metaphorically.

It's nice to meet someone else that plays, although are you in the classics or the modern stuff?

I really wonder sometimes because one day he was talking about this new manager for a band on our label being called 'Rage' and I thought it was a nickname and instead it is her name.

I tend to prefer modern, but I'm not averse to classical.

I'm going to guess that Tohma likes to give you a hard time. People in the music industry are more likely to have unusual names than your average person. Are you in a band yourself, or do you work for the label in some other capacity?

Are you from England? [ While his English is good, Ryuuich has a definite Japanese accent and kind of talks like a hyper active kid then an adult. ]

He's kind of the president of the company and my best friend. We're in a band together when we decide to shake up the kids. [ Because when rock gods descended to play music, the youngsters freak out and try to match them. ] I sing, act, write stuff, all sorts of things really. OH! And own a third of the company with Tohma.

No, I'm Irish. [He gets that question often, and it's not one his favorites. Still, it's a common mistake. No harm in it.]

I see. A man of many talents. You're fortunate to get along so well with the president of the company. I'm sure many musicians wish they were so lucky. I teach music, but I don't currently play professionally, outside of that.

And what brings you here?

Really? Cool! I thought Irish sounded a bit more than that.

We grew up together, but yeah, it would be a problem if I didn't get along with him. I guess some people might be jealous, but I can't help how popular we got, not really. I'd still like to hear what you can do.

A little of this and a little of that. Professor X figured I had some talents I can teach people though I'm not sure what outside of choir.

My people were conquered and murdered and starved to death by the English. Then they made us speak their language and forbid us from using our own tongue, so it's rare to find native speakers these days.

[Simon's such a cheerful guy.]

I do speak some Irish, but there are few here who understand it.

I don't envy you, but I'm sure many would. I'd be willing to play for you. I do play on campus from time to time.

The arts are important. I'm sure you can bring a lot to the students, give them an added appreciation for music.

And people said that Japan went way overboard with denying anyone from coming into the country during the early contact days with Europeans. [ As in he was sure that his country would had suffered the same kind of fate if it wasn't so far away and tended to destroy ships on sight that were not on their list of friendlies. ]

I'd love to hear. I love all sorts of languages even if I don't know what it means.

That would be nice of you. Music's one of those things that I'm always willing to hear.

They are. They really are and I hope they understand the approach I come from is more from the gut then from schooling.

Imperialism is an ugly thing.

[But now is not the time to discuss politics and the crimes of various nations, though that is something that Simon is willing to engage in, without much provocation. Instead, he nods.]

If you like.

[Simon recites a short verse, from one of his favorite Irish language poets:]

Anocht agus mé ag meabhrú go mór fá mo chroí
Gan de sholas ag lasadh an tí ach fannsholas gríosaí
Smaointím airsean a dtug mé gean dó fadó agus gnaoi.

[Though muted by the fact that he's being recorded, there's a trace of sadness rising in the words, unrelated to anyone's understanding of them: a flicker of Simon's power. But that's why he doesn't recite for too long.]

There's a lot to be said for passion. I'd prefer teaching from the heart to teaching solely from a book.

It is. [ He's got Ryukyu blood in him that gave him those strange blue eyes and lighter brown hair and the history between the islands and Japan was not a pretty one. ]

That's so pretty... [ And he just copies the sound of the words, turning it into a musical phrase, drawing it out in a manner that shows off his own mutation before he cuts himself off. ] Sorry. I get carried away.

Anyone can learn from a book, but they feel it better if it comes from the heart.

[Simon nods.]

It sounds like we have a few things in common.

Don't apologize. Thank you. It was beautiful. Never apologize for your gift.

[He doesn't use his own much, but that's because it should be used sparingly.]

That's right. Emotion teaches you things that reading never can. Like experience.

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Simon Monroe | In the Flesh

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