TheRoseShadow21: Ah, hello! Good to see another UK fan on here. Yes, I will admit that I may have set it out like a SYOC and confused people, sorry! It was originally going to be one, but for numerous reasons it wasn't. I feel better somehow, if this doesn't work out, that all the characters in this are my own, and therefore I do not have to worry about letting anyone down if I get their characters wrong. Also, I came up with some specific ideas and I figured it would be easier for me to take full control of all of it. Thank you for your kind words, I hope this is equally as interesting.
ThePLOTHand: Thank you for both! Yes, the idea of having teachers was to make what happens to the group feel more personal. It's bad enough when, supposed, strangers are killed. But if it's your own colleagues and friends? More despair for all.
Well, here we are! I hope that this is satisfactory, and I apologize if it is all a bit much at present. There is quite a significant amount to go through. I have, for the purposes of not overwhelming you, split the character introductions up into two. This covers the first nine, ten if you include Pat as we're getting more of an insight into them. Though I am making sure to leave some details of Pat's life for later, so as to maintain a sense of tension. The plan thus far is for the Prologue to have three parts to it not counting the 'program' as I have decided to call it.
There is one thing I should note here, regarding the colour of some characters hair. Now, obviously in a real British school, most of the teachers probably wouldn't have some of the hair I am giving them. I am going to use the Dangan Ronpa defence, however, in which it states that having to work out different synonyms for the colours black, red, brown and blonde gets very boring very fast. So...you've got some anime style hair in this story as well.
Hope this peaks your interest!
Hello, my name is Pat Elton, it's lovely to be-
Hmmm, too formal.
Hello, you…you can call me Pat, it's great to-
Too informal.
Pat Elton looked glumly at their hands, which appeared to be the only part of their body that had received the desired effects of the five cups of coffee they had downed before getting on the boat.
They did not like boats. They did not like the sea. They did not like being on a boat AT sea. So why they had chosen to go to, of all places, an Island where both were pretty much necessities, was still something they were trying to wrap their head around. The man piloting the small, rather cheap looking boat had been polite enough before lapsing into a moody, quiet silence, but even that hadn't distracted Pat from the feeling in their stomach.
Shivering, they drew the slightly oversized coat around themselves. In retrospect, this was not what they should have brought, they thought to themselves grimly. It did not make a 'good' impression. But it had been rather a rush to get down here. The letter had come with a rather abrupt phone-call, in which the receptionist practically begged them to get a move on straight away, for some sort of incident (Her own words) had happened, and they were in need of Pat's services.
Their talent was one that tended to get mocked a fair bit. Ultimate Backup. Never the first one to be thought of, always the second banana. Which was fine, honestly. Before they had gotten into the current job, they had imagined that their talent would be the Ultimate Understudy, or something like that. They'd manage to get a decent job acting, getting some money some nights just for turning up. And their sister had needed her in a few of her more expensive and lavish shows as...well, crowd fodder. Which was fine. Even if she did bring it up a lot.
And then...well, one thing had lead to another and suddenly being her second didn't seem quite so good. Determined to better themselves, they had put forward an application to act as a supply teacher, and three years on, they had managed to transition to this job quite well. Taking over from those who were ill, or had left in suspicious circumstances and the like. It was a good job, for the most part. Clearly it had gotten the attention of someone important. Prosperity had decided that a backup was needed in case anything went a little weird with one of their staff, which was to be expected.
My, my hands are sweaty. God, should I have kept this or not? Why haven't I put it away yet? Ugh, get it together.
The letter had also come with a free...well, brochure was probably the correct word for it, but the size of it made Pat think of a novella, which they were holding as the boat glided on. Page upon page of information regarding Prosperity, which in one respect was useful, and in another, was putting more pressure on them than they needed. The purple colour-scheme, the crispness of the paper, even the somewhat bizarre pictures of a somewhat more kiddy friendly mascot on the back, gave off a privileged sort of feel. After all, Pat could think, off the top of their head, of maybe two or three schools in the UK that used mascots, and weren't laughed at by the community as a whole.
Prosperity was the nerve centre of a mechanically constructed Island. It had been one of the first major developments in technology back in the sixties, a Second Industrial Revolution thanks to the rapid popularity of Ultimates, when first it had been constructed. There were, or so Pat had heard, at least twenty to thirty miles from the Island to the nearest port.
And thus, there tended to be a number of teachers who cracked under the pressure of being isolated to an extent for long periods of time.
Why Pat had accepted this job, they hadn't quite worked out yet. As had been clear, they were in dire need of better clothes. Pat Elton had been described, in appearance at least, as awkward. Maybe that was something to do with the fact that regardless of the heat they had always managed to find themselves wrapped up in the light brown anorak, one that was two sizes bigger than it really needed to be, that they were currently wearing. Nervousness came through a lot in their brown eyes and shy smiles, when they did smile, that is.
But apart from that, no one could fault them for professionalism. Standard grey sweater, a few extra pencils in the breast pocket of the anorak, a pair of sensible trousers, it was all in order. Their black hair was usually done up in a sort of ponytail, but they had decided to go for free this time around, just to see how things progressed.
"Land ho!" called the pilot, as if he was in some sort of old movie. Pat shot up to their feet, and regretted it instantly, sitting back down with a thump. The Island was a large and rather unseemly blotch upon the ocean, with rock that appeared almost rusty red and grass that was far greener than it had any right to be. As they drew near to a large, rather expensive looking dock, Pat was surprised to see how well-maintained it all looked. The boards looked impressively in good shape, considering that it was, well, a dock.
"Need a hand, miss?"
No point in correcting him. "J-Just, please help me get my stuff up?"
He did as they asked, quickly dumping each bag up with ease. He tipped his cap, and as they climbed aboard, he turned and began to sail back without so much as a word.
So with nothing else to do. Pat turned towards the Island itself.
For a moment, it was as though the world had gone slightly wobbly. Like they had been falling asleep, and then jerking awake. They took a deep breath, staggered upright and-
"GOOD DAY!"
Pat nearly shrieked and leapt out of their skin, and coat. They gripped the railing, soaking wet to stop themselves from falling, swallowed and looked up at the speaker. "A-Ah! Hello! Lovely, it is, to be here, Pat my name is-" They swallowed. "Ah. Sorry, um…are you-?"
If the woman detected anything strange about Pat, and who couldn't to be frank, she did not show it. She smiled a smile that was far whiter than anyone could have imagined, and bowed. "Greetings, Pat Elton, Ultimate Supply Teacher! My apologies for keeping you waiting, but I needed to gather most of the staff together! There are still some who are taking their time, but I have at least nine or ten ready!" Her entire voice seemed to be pep personified.
So too did her clothes. It was quite startling just how…pink the tunic was. It wasn't as if it was frilly, if anything it more resembled a Star Trek uniform, but it was so stand out that it took Pat a moment to adjust to the colour of it. Her shoes appeared to be trainers, which Pat could respect, if not entirely understand.
The smile rested upon a rather round face, with a beauty mark just underneath her left eye. Both eyes were a rather beautiful shade of green, while her hair, red hair that was one or two shades away from being pink itself, was cut in a little bob.
"You're, uh, quite stealthy."
She laughed at that. It was a little odd. "Yes! You have to be here! May I show you to the main building?! We should get the introductions started!"
"Oh, uh, right. ….My b-bags?"
"Will be taken care of!" That was almost sing-song like, bloody hell. "Please, if we can keep on moving, we have a lot to get done with!"
Pat hesitated. Should they just put the luggage they had down, or...? And then they saw a small trolley, like a shopping cart of sorts, make it's way along the edge. After staring at it for a moment, they put the luggage on and watched as it scuttled away.
"Huh. Welcome to the future." They murmured.
Well, there was little point in arguing. As they got up, Pat prepared their biggest smile possible. Confidence, they thought, was the key to getting along with everyone. They just needed to project a lot of good, strong emotions and all would be well.
"Um-" Pat started. "Who are you?"
The woman paused, as if thinking over the many meanings of those words. Then her smile dimmed, and then returned with a good deal more light. "I never introduced myself, did I?! Apologies! I am HALLIE! I'm also the Deputy Head!"
"H...Hallie? Hallie wha-"
And that was when Pat realized that there were no footprints on the ground where HALLIE was currently standing. None at all.
Ah. A hologram. Right. Of course. Sure. That makes sense. That makes all the sense. Of course. I see.
That had been what they had considered saying, to try and sound relatively laid-back. Instead, they stumbled out a:
"OH GOD! I am…okay! Sorry, I-uh, I don't...meet a lot of holograms!"
"It is fine! For most newcomers, that is acceptable, and most don't even apologize!" HALLIE's smile widened. It was...somewhat larger than an average human's smile. Pat themselves offered a shaky grin, more an attempt to appease than anything else.
There had always been rumours that many hadn't believed, that the Deputy Head was such a stressful position that no human being could ever fulfil it properly, so the Academy had funnelled enough money into creating the most realistic A.I there was and give it a sort of physical form. But that always seemed to be just a little too far-fetched to be true for Pat.
A lifetime of being with schoolkids had meant that they were quick to adapt to things that were...outside the norm, but still, to see a hologram who was so lifelike was quite something.
"Does it stand for something, your name?"
HALLIE tilted her head and thought. "Hmm….No idea!" She laughed. "You can ask my handler, when we see her! Now, we should probably hurry just a teenie tiny bit!"
"Oh, uh, yes! Of course. Sorry…ma'am."
And so they continued, in silence, up a long, winding path. There were too, actually, the one that they were on appeared to be a well maintained, garden-like path with smooth sandy paving stones, and with little to not litter. Not too far away, separated by a railing fence, was the more unsightly and rougher gravel path, probably walked by most of the students.
The school was massive, though oddly enough not really in size, more in just the feel of it. A real mismatch of building styles was present when it came to the buildings themselves There were some areas where the main architecture was clearly red brick, and others where there was a mixture of wooden panels and glass, a few areas where it appeared that caravans had been parked there and had their wheels removed. The building they were walking towards looked as though it had come straight out of a city, a large concrete block of about three floors.
As they stepped through the revolving door, a woman wearing a red dress, with what appeared to be an expression of true panic on her face, marched over. "HALLIE, you should have t-t-t-told me about-" She gestured at Pat, apparently lost for words, before bringing out a tablet and tapping on it. "Are you responding correctly?"
"Quite correctly, Ms Waterson! The headmaster informed me that I was to meet the new arrival personally, and that he had business to attend to!"
"A-Am I interrupting something?" Pat asked, feeling not for the first time that day as though they were out of her depth. The woman flushed, turned around and began to gesture wildly.
"N-No, I'm so-sorry it's just that the h-h-headmaster was supposed to meet you in person, and it's all a bit chaotic here and...and all the rest. Um, I'm HALLIE's creator, and the head of IT. I-It's very nice to meet you." There was a pause, and then as if remembering that she had missed a part out, blurted out. "Maria Waterson!"
Maria Waterson: Ultimate Coder: IT
"Oh, hello. Uh, Pat Elton?" That had not meant to come out as a question, but somehow it had. Well at least one person is just as nervous about this as me.
Maria's curled hair was practically platinum blonde, shining in what little light was there. She was small, maybe a little taller than the average student's height, same for her age as well. No more than twenty three at least. She bit her lip and grasped the sleeve of her dress. "Nice to m-m-meet you, um, did I say that already? Uh, I'm going to go and...get the others ready, the first lot are through there. HALLIE, p-please show her."
"Yes Ms Waterson!"
Maria tried to offer a smile, but it looked more than a little freaked out. She hurried off, the clacking of her heels filling the empty and noiseless room. HALLIE offered another one of those off-putting smiles, and floated on ahead, leaving Pat to take a quick look at the room. they were standing in.
The waiting room was reasonably even in temperature, the warmth was slowly returning to Pat's body after the boat ride over. If it was the middle of the day, they were sure that they would find the style to be quite refined. At present, however, with the sun setting in the background, it couldn't help but bring to mind several pieces of old art that the two siblings had once had to throw out of their parent's house. The kind that looked like a great deal of effort into making it look cozy and comfortable, and yet there was something off about it.
Maybe there was something about being in a school at night, especially when it was so quiet.
"We would light the building up!" declared HALLIE as she let Pat stop and catch breath. "But at present we want to keep as much of the electrics saved for the important stuff."
"Commendable, I-I'm sure."
The two of them approached a pair of white doors, clinical, like a hospital of sorts. Someone cautiously pushed the door forward, gave a quick glance to Pat and nodded to HALLIE. "Most of us are here, we sent Maria off to get the rest ready."
"Thank you! Well Pat Elton, here we go!"
That did not inspire much confidence in Pat, to be honest. But they opened the door, and took the plunge, so to speak.
The cantina was a decent one. The lighting at least helped avoid that sense of unease that the reception area had given, and the white floors and walls provided even more light to illuminate much of the surrounding room. For tables and chairs, the general theme seemed to be black and red. Plastic chairs that bore the scratchings and markings of many a teenager's boredom, tables that had clearly seen better days and were slightly more wobbly than necessary, even the laminated menus. This was something Pat was more used to. They could see, just to the left of this, a second pair of doors which they assumed lead to the kitchen.
but Pat's focus immediately went to the people gathered together, watching them. Carefully, as if trying to work out what their deal was.
All of Pat's thoughts about how to make a good impression bubbled together into one, rock solid introduction. Yes. This was the one.
"Hi."
Then again, perhaps not. A slow blush began to rise, cut off only by the nearest teacher moving forward.
"Hello! You're…Pat, right?"
"Y-yeah. Yeah! That is my name!" Pat laughed, it wasn't funny, they didn't know why they did it. The man smiled, sleepily, but with a hint of sympathy.
"Yeah, it is…ah, not really a thing that we do, these group meetings. No trouble getting here?"
"Just a bit of turbulence. And...a lot of damp."
"To be expected. Probably got Jim to drag you over? We mostly use the more comfortable boats for the kids, we mere teachers have to suffer the rickety one. Lords knows how you're so put together."
Pat couldn't help but feel a little rush of relief. This man, at the very least, seemed to be trying to put them at ease. The others had gone back to whatever they had been doing before hand, though glances were thrown her way.
"I've already told them all your name! So you can skip that boring part of the introductions! You might as well get the introductions over with!" And without even giving them a chance to say anything, off floated HALLIE to chat to some of the others. Two of them, in particular, who were gazing at the male teacher with...amusement? Something like that.
"You get used to her." The man assured Pat. "Still gives me the creeps whenever she forgets to use a door. Uh, forgetting meself. Good whatever-time-it-is. I'm…" He paused, and began to slide forward, impressively managing to stay upright for five seconds before his eyes forced themselves back open. "Ah, sorry, not sleeping very well.. Alphonse Bowman, Chemistry."
Alphonse Bowman: Ultimate Chemist: Chemistry
The second the name was mentioned, Pat remembered a few things they had managed to dreg up in their research of the teachers. Alphonse had been something of a recluse for many years since he had graduated from Prosperity, and had remained a recluse by returning back to the academy. He was quite brilliant, there were several potential new elements that owed something to his discoveries. Or so they had been told.
Alphonse was a somewhat small man, though his lanky nature made it an interesting contrast with what might have been expected. His eyes, hidden behind a pair of standard lab goggles, were green, and he was completely bald save for a few scraggly bits that stuck out at odd angles. Even putting aside from the goggles, he appeared to have come straight from the lab. A white coat, which was clearly in need of refurbishment, covered up a green sweater and black trousers, which were streaked with a fair blotches and patches of stuff.
His eyes, half-lidded with sleep, glanced at them. "So, know what you're getting into?"
"Probably not, Mr Bowman."
Another smile graced his face. "Fair nuff. Don't let the rest of them give you shit, we're all just as bad as each other really." He glanced over toward the two others, one man and one woman who were giving him side-eye. "Some more so than others, true, but hey, ah, what can you do? And please, Al. Mr Bowman is my brother. The selfish, ah, git, who is glaring at me. You want to introduce yourselves, siblings mine?"
"Nope." said the male, childishly. "Not now you've insulted me. Us." He grabbed his sister. "Isn't that right, Nadia?"
"Yeah, sorry, looks like the little cosy introductions are going to have to wait until this one calms down." 'Nadia' dragged the brother towards the nearest window. "Chat to you later, this one needs some fresh air, and a major attitude adjustment."
"Oh...o-okay then."
Al glanced to Pat as his siblings disappeared. "They mean well." He remarked. "But he's a bit...highly strung, and she...well, do you have a sister?"
"Yes."
"Yeah. Exactly. You get it." He offered a dry little smirk. Pat laughed, more to release part of the knot forming in their chest than anything really. Al glanced behind him. "Hey. Roy. Shouldn't you, ah, be asleep by now?"
A thin reedy voice piped up. "No, Mr Bowman….er…Al." A far younger man stepped forward, looking like wanted to be anywhere else but here. Pat could sympathize. "I've been told that I h-have to stick around and listen to the meeting." He looked to them, shyly. "Um, hello, I guess. I'm the Student Council rep, Roy Watson!"
Pat nodded, smiled encouragingly but couldn't help but tilt their head as they tried to place his face. Said face dropped, and he forced the last part out with some effort.
"I'm….the mascot."
Roy Watson: Ultimate Mascot: Student Council
Yes, that was where they recognized him from! The advertisements for the Academy tended to focus around the academic pursuits, the future job offers that would be received….and then there was the moments where a cross between a purple teddy bear and a Tellytubby wandered into frame to present documents in a faux-graduation ceremony.
Pat wouldn't have put Roy to be one of those. He was tall, taller than Alphonse, but about the normal height for an student. His face, pale and spotty, occasionally twitched with a nervous spasm, and his hands went to his straw coloured hair as if trying to pull it out. His outfit was impeccable, however, a white shirt neatly ironed with a purple waistcoat over it, and standard issue Prosperity trousers and shoes, grey and bland.
"Oh…Oh, right!" Pat tried to change the subject, sensing perhaps a feeling of embarrassment. "It's nice to m-meet you."
"y-Yeah, same, Mr…Miss, um…" He looked horrified, and Pat was quick to reassure him.
"If you have to call me anything, just call me Mx Elton."
"Right…right! Er, apologies, should be used to it by now. I hope you enjoy working here, Mx Elton."
"Much obliged. It's already-" Pat wasn't sure what the end of that sentence was. Quite interesting? Well it was that. Quite confusing? Again, certainly something that was a thing they felt. But luckily they didn't need to finish it, as an interruption suddenly presented itself.
Roy was barged aside, and before they could finish the sentence, a pair of hands shot within grabbing distance of their ribs. "Come on, come!" said the barger. "Hands up!"
Pat looked to Al and Roy, worried that they were either about to be thrown across the room or tickled. The two of them looked at each other, then at them and shrugged helplessly. Doing as the whirlwind insisted, Pat raised their arms up to the sky, and was subject to an incredibly rough, though mercifully quick, patting down and rifling of their pockets.
"So it appears you're lacking in contraband! Security's paramount here!" The woman looked Pat up and down, and as if recalling that this was not perhaps the most natural introduction between colleagues, stuck out a hand sharply "…Judy Huston."
Judy Huston: Ultimate Bouncer: Security
Well, I'd better shake her hand. She might take mine off if I don't.
One quick shake later, Judy practically jumped back, and Pat got a better look at her. She was a decently sized woman in terms of height She was not the tallest, that honour went to the rather ramrod straight man currently glaring at a whiteboard, but she was close enough. Her blonde hair, cut off rather sharply into a makeshift pixie cut, didn't hide the slight detached expression on her face, or in her grey eyes.
About thirty, she looked to be one of the fittest members of the congregation, muscles across her arms and legs a-plenty, hidden underneath a white shirt and navy-blue joggers. It occurred to Pat that there appeared to be a little mud on her trainers, but Judy cared not one jot, given her look.
From what little they could recall about Judy, she had been with the school for a good ten years, after having been commended for her work as a prison guard. There had been those who had tried to smuggle things in and out of the school, and those people were now probably in hospital and/or jail thanks to her.
So as Judy looked at her, they felt inclined to say something, anything, just to break the awkward silence. "So…is it a hard job?"
"A hard job." Judy smirked, and then didn't. "Three hundred plus students. All of these teachers, with all their little quirks and habits and styles. Potential spies and troublemakers and journalists-" She spat this last word "-trying to find out how this all works. Yes. It is a hard job."
Pat tried not to let the feeling of the ground swallowing them up get to them. It didn't quite work.
"Judy!" A rather gentle voice, though with the hint of the scold in it, cut through. Judy gave Pat a look and then stormed back over towards the older woman, who looked at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.
Pat's attention was suddenly taken by another woman, who offered a huge grin. "My dear, hello! Chelsea Irving, history, but you can probably guess that from the period costume! Hee!"
Chelsea Irving: Ultimate Historian: History
"Oh, uh, hello!" Pat swallowed, and tried to push that feeling of awkwardness away. Chelsea's hair, cut into a bob style, was chocolate brown, a rather bright and almost unrealistic colour. She wore a pair of wire-spectacles that blocked a pair of blue eyes which appeared to blink quite a bit.
Her outfit seemed…anachronistic, to suit her talent Pat supposed. A bottle green dress, the kind that you might see in a Victorian period drama or one of those old fashioned ballroom scenes, that got fluffier and fluffier as it went down. As she moved about, Pat caught a glimpse of trainers underneath the dress. She muttered a curse in what appeared to Welsh as she shook Pat's hand.
"Don't mind Judy." She murmured softly. "She's just, ah, how do you put it…easily stressed? She's really dedicated to her job."
"Y-Yeah, I can tell." Pat smiled awkwardly. "It's okay, it was a stupid question. It's Prosperity after all. I-It'd be stranger if it weren't protected."
"No excuse to be rude, which she most definitely was!"
"I can hear you know!" shouted Judy.
"Why do you think I'm saying these things?!" Chelsea stuck her tongue out and on reflex, Pat snorted.
Chelsea was famous for her writing career, several of her more in-depth books were the recommended texts for other schools across the country, and indeed, on a global scale. As for teaching, she was most famous for how much she threw herself into every new subject, often times taking the students outside of Prosperity in an attempt to show them the truth of what it was they were studying.
Chelsea's smile widened and turned back. "Anyway, just relax, it's all fine." She gestured down in a fluster. "Really wish the headmaster'd let me change into something more practical. This was supposed to be demonstrating a point to my class, but now it's getting a bit hot in here. If HALLIE will let me, I do believe I should check whether the air conditioning is working! If you do not mind, of course!" She looked a little embarrassed. "I talk a lot, but if there's anything I can help you with, well, feel free to talk when it's quieter?"
"Oh, uh, sure! Sure. That sounds great."
Chelsea smiled, and patted Pat on the shoulder, before moving off to talk to the two who had been glowering at Al a few moments ago.
That, then, put paid to the group of people that had been closest to them Now, time to go forth and greet the day with open arms!
First though, a snack. Their stomach was rumbling something fierce.
Moving forward, Pat tried to ignore the glances thrown their way, and made their way towards a large vending machine. They had their hands in pocket, ready to get some money out for it, when they realized to their embarrassment that their wallet was clearly amongst the variety of stuff packed into one of their bags.
Pat thought about asking, but then stopped themselves. Was that too much of a request for a first time? Was that not 'how it was done' in Prosperity?
"No need to fret!" A hearty laugh made them jump and spin around. "You haven't eaten? Here you are!" The figure handed her a large cream bun, and with a nod, tipped his chef-like hat "Home Economics, Martin Starr, at your service!"
Martin Starr: Ultimate Baker: Home Economics
"Thank you!" Gratitude rushed through Pat's head, memories of the incredibly awkward mistakes that had occurred when they had 'overstepped' their mark rushing through their head. The nervousness had dissipated a little with their interactions with Chelsea, and with this act of kindness, the ice broke a little more. She knew of Martin (Who didn't?) more from his family's bakery than anything else. The Starr's were known for their mixture of quantity and quality, with Martin bucking the trend by being the first baker to not take over the running of said shop, instead returning to Prosperity after his school-life was complete.
Martin was probably the third tallest, behind the man with the ramrod back and Judy, with almost currant like eyes that looked on in intrigue at her, and a crop of thick red hair that seemed to battle the seams of the hat. His arms, legs and entire body were quite rotund, too, though not unhealthily so. He was dressed, somewhat haphazardly, in a yellow striped shirt and brown trousers, hidden underneath a thick, red apron.
"Hmm…you've not been eating much recently?" Martin held his chin thoughtfully.
"Uh, no?" Pat frowned. How did...and then they smiled. "I guess it's part and parcel of being a baker? Knowing how other people eat?"
"You pick up a few things about people's habits!" He clapped a large hand on their shoulder. "Still, I imagine that we can get you fattened up! You'll need your strength to be dealing with these Ultimates, let me tell you that! And that's just the students you have to worry about!"
"God, you missed your calling. Should have been a cannibal, the way you talk about them like that."
"Ah, Jamie!" With a twinkle in his eyes, Martin raised a hand to his chest. "You cut me to the quick with your harsh words!"
"Whatever." In a bored, slightly monotone voice, the girl waved a hand rather disingenuously. "Jamie Pritchard, Dance. Great to see you, I guess, go us. Whoooo."
Jamie Pritchard: Ultimate Breakdancer: Dance
"Being unfriendly again, Jamie." Martin gave her a slightly annoyed look, which still came across as 90% more cheerful than most people's annoyed looks. "We're all tired-"
"Yeah? Have you got a whole troupe of dancers coming in tomorrow? It's going to be fine for the first ten minutes, and then it's all going to get very, very cutthroat indeed. Two hours with them and you'll be crying for the army. At least they'll give you a decent pension when you're done with it" Jamie sighed, and grasped a large mug of coffee as if it were a lifeline. "Was waiting until the middle of the day really that hard for our headmaster?"
"I'm sorry-" Pat began, but Jamie waved it off.
"Never mind, it's not on you, is it?"
Jamie was fairly lanky, though with her legs toned clearly from a great deal of work. She was dressed so casually that one might have mistaken her for a hitchhiker who had somehow stumbled into the school by accident. She wore a grey hoodie with the Prosperity Logo hastily etched on, and navy blue jeans, coupled with a pair of blue and white trainers. Her blue hair verged on the grey, as did her eyes, and the slightly dull way her lips rested on her face.
It was odd, thought Pat, how different people were off-stage, as it was. They had once gone to a concert where Jamie had been one of a troupe of dangers. The others had been good, sure, but there had been something about Jamie that had really captivated the crowd.
"Give her a few mouthfuls of caffeine." Martin stage whispered to Pat "And she'll be….marginally more energetic."
"Nuh uh, don't go putting words in my mouth."
"…I wasn't." Martin gave Pat a mock-weary look. "Ride over must have been tough. The waves aren't exactly welcoming-" He paused, glanced over her shoulder and let out a soft sound that might have been a groan. "Sorry."
"What?"
"You've, er, got an English teacher bearing down on you. Might want to DUCK!" Pat turned backwards, and heard the distinct sound of Martin and Jamie stumbling backwards in order to get away.
Huh, well what's wrong with-Oh no.
A hand grasped Pat's and shook it, vigorously, as a wild, tremulous voice uttered "As a scribe of the truth, I, William Collins, shall inscribe your name upon the papyrus of history!"
William Collins: Ultimate Scholar: English
Several thoughts went through Pat's head at that moment. Mostly variations on a general theme: What? What even?
William Collins looked as though he had been pulled out a long forgotten cupboard. Though he could no older than thirty five, his hair appeared to be reaching dangerously long lengths, wispy brown hair that seemed very close to grey. His clothes looked just as worn out. Over his dark green suit, with pink tie and white shirt, he wore brown robes that held more than a few areas where it had been patched up. His hand felt like paper, very dry.
His eyes were the most striking part, though. Bright blue, and almost painfully sharp.
"A-Ah. Hello, Mr Collins…y-you'd be-"
"The English teacher?" The old woman stood up and took hold, gently but firmly, of William's shoulder. "Yes, he is. Forgive him, he's a bit…stressed right now."
"Bah!" William's face broke into a slightly strained, yet strangely genuine smile. "Indeed? …Am I being a bit…. much as you humans put it?"
"Just a lil." The slight southern drawl was not what Pat had expected, nor the glint of something in the old woman's eye "Pleasure, I'm sure, darling. Lauren Havisham, Drama."
Laura Havisham: Ultimate Thespian: Drama
"Y-Yes, lovely to meet you!" Pat swallowed. Laura Havisham was incredibly well known in the theatre circles, there'd been several times where she'd been interviewed and had run rings around the reporters sent to try and get a rise out of her. She was, however, far more well known for a one year appearance on a soap opera known as CommonFolk that had still held records for length of time on air, and her appearance in particular had become part of popular culture.
Looking at her now, they were well aware of how quickly the old woman was taking her in. Pat therefore decided against the repetition of any catchphrases that Laura had had on that show, for fear that they might be dealing with another Judy.
Laura was in her late fifties to early sixties, a face lined with wrinkles yet still with the glimmer of beauty about it. Her eyes, hidden behind a dark pair of sunglasses, gave away only the slightest hint of brown as her head moved up and down. Her hair, though grey now, clearly must have once been a bright shade of blonde, if the faint hints of it still remaining could be believed.
"Willie here-" She slung her arm over his shoulder in a friendly manner "-has a tendency to let the words get the better of the rest of him, to the expense of all other things, such as basic politeness. He's used to giving lectures by this point, set in his ways as he is, and restraint is something that works perfectly fine in THAT theatre, and less so in this theatre that we call normal everyday life." She winked at him. "Wouldn't have him any other way though?"
"Bah! I confess, I confess, tis true, as the source of truth in a lying world, I cannot prevent myself from speaking out of turn no matter whom it may offend, though…I apologize if it, indeed, offended you." This last part he said in a far grumpier manner, almost like it had been rehearsed.
"O-Oh, no problem." Pat laughed, more out of desperation than anything. Was that normal, they wondered, to be constantly on the verge of breaking down into either mad laughter or soul crushing terror? Absentmindedly they thought of the small medicine bottle in their bag. If only Hallie could let them have it.
"And sadly." Laura whispered, and Pat snapped back to the present. "We should probably get your introduction to Peter over and done with. He's Maths, and he's…well, many things. Difficult is one of them."
"Oh really?" came the icy cold response. "Ye do like to stir the pot when it comes ta me." Turning around, Pat stifled an gulp, as the man with the ramrod back moved forward. He looked Pat up and down with a cold, logical eye, in great depth. She got a good eyeful of him. Navy suit, gold trimming, with a pair of grey gloves marked with chalk on his hands. Grey eyes and jet black hair, and a face permanently set to scowl.
Finally, he spoke, somewhat frostily. "Supply teacher? Not that I'll be seeing much of ye, but it's Peter Hammond, Maths."
Peter Hammond: Ultimate Theoretician: Maths
"Oh, it's lovely to-"
"Yes, sure it is, ye'll be satisfied with that for now? I've got papers ta mark and unlike some people, we dinnae get a break."
"Rude."
It slipped out before they could stop themselves, and as Al let out an low whistle of amusement, Pat wondered if anyone else could feel the ground licking it's lips in anticipation of it's next meal. The cantina suddenly felt very, very warm indeed, and it was a rather hard battle to keep their legs still standing.
Peter stared straight through them, then with a brusque "We're done here" stormed forward and out of the door. There was a ruckus outside as he left, but Pat was a little too distracted by the distinctive cackle of William and the smirk of Laura.
"Not bad, not bad." She said, approvingly. "Not many people who can flummox that guy on their first day."
Chelsea glanced at the three of them. "So, erm….what did I miss?"
"The annual Peter Hammond Humiliation, nothing important."
"Oh, that is a pity! Is Mr Hammond all right?" It was hard to miss the decrease in legitimate concern when Chelsea talked about him. Not helped of course, by the way she was clearly trying to hide a little grin.
"He will be!"
HALLIE's voice suddenly chimed out. "According to the headmaster, the rest of the staff are gathered in the staff room. If you would be as kind as to follow me, we can continue the introductions there!"
"Thank goodness!" Chelsea sighed, tension leaving from her shoulders. "Perhaps we'll be able to get a proper brew going, not whatever that muck is in there!" She glanced around. "The cafeteria staff have gone home, yes?"
"Don't worry." Al rolled his eyes good humouredly, and checked his phone. "Even if they were hear, I doubt they would, ah, disagree with your choice of words." He patted Roy on the back. "Come on Watson, sooner we're done, sooner you can go off to sleep."
"R-Right."
Everyone made their way out, though Pat stayed behind for a moment. They weren't sure why, but their chest felt a little tight. They took a few breathes, grabbed hold of the table for a moment to steady themselves, and then glanced around once more.
"So, weary traveller, what make you of this, our cast of bizarre masters of crafts?" William asked, eyebrow raised.
Bloody hell, maybe put a bell on him?
"They are...uh, very interesting! And nice, most of them."
William suddenly looked self-conscious. "You do not find them odd? I do, and that says a lot coming from such a personage as I." He paused, licked his lips and then muttered something like "Something feels off."
"What was that?"
William snapped back. "Bah, twas nothing!"
Pat hesitated, and then decided to speak. "W-Well, if I am honest, it's...it's all weird. I don't quite know what to make of most of them, but that's how it usually is when you...you start somewhere new, right?"
"I would not know. I have...been here for what feels like forever." Perhaps sensing a question at this comment, William deflected it. "Of course, as the scholar Mr Dodgeson once said, we are all a little mad here, are we not?"
"...Y-Yeah. And the others, are they...just as crazy?"
"Oh no!"
Pat smiled.
"They might be slightly worse."
"Oh." Pat squeaked. "Right."
William offered a weary, though not cruel smile. "Come then. After yourself!"
Pat nodded gratefully, though with a clear amount of trepidation clear in the gesture itself, it might have been hard to notice. Al had waited for them, and with a slow wave, directed them through a maze of corridors, each one looking clean as a whistle, before stopping in front of another pair of double doors, these ones made of oak. He patted Pat on the back.
Ah well. Once more unto the breach.
And Pat entered the staff room.
And that's about it for the first half of the cast list. Next time, we meet the rest, including a proper introduction to Al's siblings! Hope this was okay, I am open to feedback (If my writing style is a bit different, it's only because this is the first time I am trying a relatively straight story and some of my big influences are Pratchett and Adams) and constructive criticism, hope you enjoyed and see you next time!
