He'd done more than enough cancelling of classes lately. First the other week, with the Kevin incident, and then with Keye being hurt and his taking off work for a couple days to make sure that Keye was all right... His students must be wondering what was wrong with him, since, after all, none of them knew about Keye.

He was in his office now, catching up on all the things that he had been neglecting the past couple days. Like all those quizzes that he had yet to grade, and that he'd given over a week ago.

The illusions on his magic books were up, of course, since he wasn't expecting anyone in particular, and any random Unnish student could conceivably come with a question for him. (Or come to ask where he'd been the last couple days, for that matter.) A copy of something by Nietzche was lying on his armchair, a bookmark poking out of a place somewhere near the end.

Scritch, scritch went his red pen. Rustle, rustle went the paper he was grading.

This was... remarkably normal. Normal, he had decided, was perhaps a good thing; excitement was going to give him more grey hairs than he already had...

And here, like magic, is a student to bother him.

April by name.

Hallway. Again.

Door. Knocking.

Hiya. Hi. Howdy. Dude. Yo.

...each greeting said something different about her mood or attitude. Which should she use?

Some people put way too much thought into the minutiae of life. April is one of them.

She finished the book a week ago, sortof. Technically she finished it long before that, but counting multiple rereads, experimentation and general mayhem, she finished it a week ago.

He'd taken the day off, which had made returning it awkward. She'd been hanging around between classes, hoping to catch him in his office.

Knock.

If he doesn't answer, she'll try the handle. She's like that. Nosey.

Sigh. He doesn't really have time for this...

"Come in."

He puts his pen down and sets the quizzes aside--how funny; he's actually grading Miss Terence's quiz right now. She did well--and folded his hands on his desk.

Goal? Get the student in, answer his or her questions as quickly as possible and get the student out so that he can get back to the things that he's been neglecting. Shameful, really, how much attention he's been paying to Keye.

... not that he really would have it otherwise. But that's beside the point.

"Dr. Barclay." Grin. Unspoken 'long time, no see'.

"Are you busy?" Obviously not the real question.

Why come to the point if you don't have to?

Anyway, this might take a while and she doesn't want to interrupt anything important.

"Miss Terence." A slight inclination of his head and one of those wide smiles.

"Of course not."

Not for her, because, you know, she's one of those students that he has been cultivating and is planning to use... Sigh. Only not a real one, that she could actually see. Totally mental.

"Please, have a seat."

The armchair's the one open this time, and it's a very comfortable chair indeed.

Oh, good lord Dr. Barclay was cool had comfy chairs.

"Thanks." Smile, not grin, which was quite out of character for her. (As we've mentioned before, April is completely off her rocker a bit absentminded around Dr. Barclay for some reason.)

"I enjoyed the book." Past tense. Previously when mentioning it, she'd have said 'am enjoying'. Now we get to the point.

She'd been holding it, and now set it down on the convinient table provided for her pleasure.

Mmm, pleasure.

Bah, not everything is an innuendo, girlie.

Mmmmmm.

"I'm glad. It's an interesting read--did you try any of the spells in there?" None of them are particularly dangerous, so he's not too worried about what she might get into with a book like that.

And she's powerful enough that he's not worried that she'll drain herself. And she seems to take care of herself, unlike Keye.

Keye... Not now, Alex.

She flipped her ponytail (April was a ponytail kind of girl), buying time to think of a good reply.

She'd noticed that Dr. Barclay wasn't the most easy teacher, you see.

"Indeed." Mock-serious. Is April ever serious?

...the answer is no.

Pause.

Mischievious grin. "It was fun."

He's scolded her about considering everything fun before, if she remembers rightly. But life is fun, and she wants him to notice that.

Funfunfun.

Life is not fun. Life is one disaster after another, with little stresses tossed in there and occasional moments of rest. Alexander would never have used the term 'fun' to describe his life...

... except maybe thirty years ago.

Well, that's why. She's too young to know.

He rolled his eyes, somehow making the gesture seem indulgent rather than annoyed. The man should get an Oscar.

"Please tell me you didn't cause any large disasters."

"Disaster is the spice of life." She's probably quoting something, but who knows what? Not April. She's just mixing metaphors.

And that isn't an answer. It's just something to say.

The answer comes a moment later. "Did manage to turn my room an astonishing shade of green, but I don't think green will get me kicked out of the dormitory."

It was a side effect, incidentally, which was why she hadn't been able to reverse it.

Anyway, she liked green.

(She'd been experimenting on Snapper again, and, well, you know how that turned out the first time. She was lucky the room just turned green, rather than becoming a pond or something.)

It'd been an experiment with guided visualization. Don't ask.

It could have been worse. Breathe deeply, Alexander, and remember, it could have been worse.

"How did you explain that to your roommate?"

He's really rather insanely curious--he never could come up with convincing explanations when he did outrageous things in university. Luckily, his roommate was also Innish, so he didn't have quite so much trouble as he could have had.

Shrug. "I didn't bother. She swore a bit and threatened to 'paint it back the way it was'."

People will rationalize anything. Excuses just make them think there's something to hide. April learned that from her grandma, before the old lady died.

He lifted one of those thick black eyebrows.

"Did it only turn the walls green, or everything in the room?"

((*dies at the shortness*))

"I was trying to change my turtle. Only really affected the things that Snapper could see. Both dressers, both desks, beds. Walls." Thankfully, none of her clothes.

And yes, there were a few perma-illusions covering the more obviously impossible things.

But as we've mentioned, April likes green.

And by change, she meant change back. To a turtle. Because Snapper was a cat. As mentioned.

All right, even Alexander has to admit that this is an amusing scenario. Even he has to chuckle a little at the mental images of one of the very plain, very drab dorm rooms at Keaton turned brilliant green.

So he does. Briefly, and quietly, but he does chuckle. I suppose I should mention that he has a nice sort of chuckle; none of the coldness or cruelty or fakeness that you might expect from a man planning to, well, murder this girl...

Congratulations, April, he doesn't grudge this interaction so much any longer. Not quite so much.

"Change your turtle how?"

Shrug. She doesn't want to explain the turtle fiasco. It was embarrassing.

Change of subject. "Why do you keep warning us about practicing on our own?"

April, remember, is a bit naive about the darker side of magic. It's rather like her view on rapists and murderers- people say they exist, but they're far away and long ago and why would they want to bother her of all people anyway?

"It's dangerous." Duh.

But he'll go into a little more detail, to clarify.

"You know magic is energy. Well, that energy has to come from somewhere. You. If you use too much energy at once, you could seriously hurt yourself, or even kill yourself."

He cocked his head.

"Ever had a headache after trying a new spell or keeping one going? Felt sick?"

Frankly, April doesn't actually use her magic all that often. Illusions, mainly, and sometimes party tricks. She doesn't take it seriously at all.

She has to think for a while about the question. "Yeeeeeeesss... I think. Not the new spell one, but holding stuff for hours.. yeah...." She'd never thought about it that way before. She'd thought those headaches were from stress or tiredness or something.

"It can seriously get me killed?" Scary.

Best person to ask about it, huh?

Best person in the world. He doesn't want her to get herself killed before he can use her, after all...

"If you use too much at once, yes, definitely. That's why I also tell you to eat right and keep yourselves healthy--you have more energy to draw from, that way. You're less likely to send yourself into shock."

And if no one finds you quickly enough, you have the same problems as any other toxic shock victim. Shock is very dangerous, magic-induced shock certainly no less so, and perhaps more.

"...oh." Sobering.

Silence.

But not for long! Because this is April we're talking about, and she has no real grasp of harsh realities. "So why don't I see mages collapsing all over the place, then? Most of the ones I've met are pretty obsessive about it."

...smooth, April, smooth.

"It does take a good deal of energy to send yourself into shock," he conceded, frowning. "More than an average spell would take. That's why most mages aren't falling down all over the place. But."

He held up a warning finger.

"Most mages are also well aware of the danger involved in using more energy than one has available to oneself."

That's why, of course, he and the rest are planning to use Alexander's students' energy for their big god-capture. They can take a whole lot more energy from the students than they can spare from themselves.

"So... you only have so much energy? Preditermined, like hair color?" Didn't make much sense to her that way.

She'd never really run out, you see. Ever.

"Less like hair colour, and more like, hm... More like your muscles. There are ways you can build them or you can leave them to wither away. And there are ways to enhance your own strength, such as using a lever instead of trying to push a boulder yourself. Your genes determine how strong you are to begin, and how you treat yourself through your life determines how well they work throughout."

Okay, the analogy has its flaws, but it's the right basic idea.

...Alex shouldn't have made April think about muscles. Mmmmm, muscles....

Anyway.

...mmm, muscles....

Shut up.

Anyway.

"So, what tells you when you're supposed to stop? Right before the headache, right after, an hour after..?"

Yes, she's held things for hours while having a fun lil' reaction headache. She'd wanted to make a good impression.

"I usually attempt to avoid the headache altogether. If one is unavoidable" Like when he did that little exorcism-thing without any preparation or warning "Then I don't do anything until it's abated."

But he's old and cautious. Of course the restrictions he places on himself don't apply to a young mage with loads of youthful energy and power at her disposal...

Oh yes they do.

"You have to allow yourself to recover the energy you've used, or else you're liable to make it much worse."

She pulled a mock-serious mien. "Horrors."

Now, April has a slightly flightly attention span. She is now looking with interest at the books that were so interesting but looked so mundane at the moment. "Did you reorginize your office?" April isn't very good at sensing spells. Making, yes. Sensing, no.

"I did not."

So she can't sense spells as well as she can make them? If he were actually planning to teach her and make her into a better mage, he would file that away for something to focus on in their private sessions.

... he probably actually will work on that with her for a while, until things are in readiness for Azrael, but it won't be as in depth as it could have been.

He mouthed a few words, and the illusion dropped.

She blinked. Grinned.

"Pretty."

"What language was that?"

April is full of questions today.

At some point she'll realize that she did what she came here to do and should leave, but she's enjoying the conversation. And the learning. And stuff.

"Latin."

Rather traditional, isn't it.

He figures, while he has the illusion down, he may as well put the book back where it belongs, so he rises from his place at the desk and crosses the room, picking up the book from the little end table and slipping it back into its spot.

Slightly despite himself, Alexander is (almost) enjoying the break.

He would enjoy it more if this student weren't marked for death. Rubbing it in, anyone?

April looked wistful as she watched the book go.

"I should get going." It's a peculiarity of hers to never use someone's name. Nicknames, yes, names, never. Names were important. First, last, it didn't matter.

Then she remembered, and mentioned. "I signed up for latin next semester. I thought it'd be useful."

That is, if she was still alive by then, but she's blissfully ignorant of that little fact, isn't she?

He looked down at her with a smile.

"Very useful, yes." And not only for magic, really. There are a lot of things that latin could conceivably help with...

A thoughtful (and fake) expression crossed his face.

"What's your major, Miss Terence?"

It should probably be noted that he's standing rather close to her. It should also be noted that he hasn't really noticed, because he doesn't think like that. He was just putting the book away.

Quite close to her. It was very distracting. And he smiled at her.

"I, um, haven't decided yet. I'm interested in all sorts of things...." Too bad magic wasn't a major.

He took a half step back and leaned on his desk, arms crossed, still smiling. Though it was slightly smaller, slightly less indulgent. Also slightly more joking.

"May I recommend English?"

You knew he was going to say that, didn't you. He really does love language--any language, actually--and all that sort of thing...

Okay, less distracting from there. And she really did have to go, there was that term paper to finish....

"Sounds like a plan." Again, this is one of her answer-non-answers, because it did sound like a plan, but whether or not it was a plan she would follow remained to be seen.

She rose. "Will class be going on as scheduled this time?" Subtle dig for information, but she wasn't going to stick around for the answer if it was longer than 'yes, goodbye'.

"Yes."

That's actually shorter...

"See you then, Miss Terence."

Okay, maybe not.

He certainly doesn't plan on having any more visits from ex-boyfriends and Keye won't be trying to kill himself again, and... Well. It should go on as scheduled. If life interfered, he would try very hard not to cancel it again...

But no guarantees.

She left, busy fantasizing. All in all, a good meeting.

And she did remember to say a farewell, if you wondered.