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Post by Box Whitlock on Jan 16, 2008 0:15:52 GMT -5
The door to Rupert Giles' office was the most intimidating door Box had faced in a while. It had the air of a principal's or headmaster's door, or his dad's office door when he was in trouble. That inexplicable door-of-authority feeling. Was there some kind of special polish that did that to a door? Box rocked on the balls of his feet, eyeing the authority-door. Oh yeah, I know how to deal with doors like you. He started to just reach for the doorknob, but an abiding sense of politeness made him knock first. Shave and a haircut, two bits, he knocked. While he waited for the door to be opened, Box ran a hand through his hair and did a quick inspection of his clothes. Check. Tousled and rumpled. Well, what else could be expected? He was pretty much fresh off the plane (what a fun eight hours that had been) not to mention all the airport security and customs. Anyone who thought he could look better after all of that was clearly a few fries short of a Happy Meal.
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Post by Giles on Jan 16, 2008 9:23:14 GMT -5
Rupert was still putting things away from moving in. He had been busy organizing his books according to demonic classification, his own special way. He turned to get a drink of tea when he heard a rapping at his door. Not wanting to not drink tea, Rupert simply continued to walk. "Come in, please." he said, picking up the saucer and cup. Cup of tea. Cup of Tea. Shag. Cup of Tea
Rupert took a sip of the warm, brown liquid and walked behind his desk. He set the saucer on the top of the desk and sat himself in the chair, waiting for whoever was outside his door to come in.
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Post by Box Whitlock on Jan 16, 2008 13:52:58 GMT -5
Box poked his head in at the invitation. "Ah, hullo?" After a moment the rest of his body followed, toting a small but clearly full backpack and canvas messenger bag. Both of which looked like they'd been purchased secondhand. "This is where I was supposed to come, right?" His accent hadn't been immediately apparent; at first he might sound like a very well-spoken American, and then a moment later seem British. (It was a mixture of Received Pronunciation and Standard Spoken American English, with just an occasional hint of Estuary English, for any linguistic nerds present.)
He shifted his backpack slightly, standing a little straighter. It was a little odd being here. Something about this guy, and this office, was sort of like returning to a place from his childhood that he didn't quite remember. Obviously he'd never been here specifically before, but it just had that feel. Box wasn't sure if it was homey, or just creepy.
"I'm uh... I was looking for the Watchers."
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Post by Giles on Jan 16, 2008 14:48:25 GMT -5
Giles turned when the door open. "Yes, hello.' he greeted with a polite smile. 'Well, sir, you are in the right place. Please, come in.' Giles said. He stood slightly and motioned to the chairs infront of his desk. 'Have a seat. Would you like some tea?' he questioned the young man.
From the appearance of the guy he wasn't what Giles was hoping for, actually, none of the students had been as of yet but that was alright. The school was starting to get a good team assembled and Rupert was exicted. 'Oh, I almost forgot. I'm Rupert Giles, headmaster. You can call me Giles."
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Post by Box Whitlock on Jan 16, 2008 15:05:42 GMT -5
"Um, no thanks." He sat down in the proffered chair, dropping his two bags as he did. From the sound they made, one was probably just clothes and other necessities, while the messenger bag made a dull thud as it hit the floor. He fidgeted a bit, but Giles seemed nice enough, so he was beginning to relax a bit. Besides, he seemed more English than a whole cricket team having tea and biscuits and actually that kind of made him want some tea himself, but he'd already refused so he just grinned a bit. "I'm Box. Um. Basil, actually, but people call me Box."
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Post by Giles on Jan 16, 2008 15:29:15 GMT -5
"Alright,' Giles said, sitting back down. 'Box, eh. Well, you'll fit in perfect here. Everyone seems have unique names. We've got a Zildjain, Buffy, and Megara so that's good.' Giles smiled at the guy. 'So, Basil, tell me somethings about yourself. Just so I can put assign you with the proper people and such."
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Post by Box Whitlock on Jan 16, 2008 16:15:45 GMT -5
An eyebrow twitched upward from the listing of names. "Wow."
The request for more information about himself sped his heartbeat up several beats per minute. Being assigned somewhere already, jeez. These people didn't waste any time. "I don't really know a lot. Not about demons and stuff, anyway." He fumbled a couple of books out of the messenger bag on the floor--they were old volumes, with faded lettering. The Writings of Dramius, Volume 3, and another book called Fenestra Periculi. "I've read a few things but... well, they sort of expect you to have already taken Demons 101 before reading this stuff, I guess. Plus the untranslated stuff is a pain. My Latin sucks."
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Post by Giles on Jan 17, 2008 17:28:57 GMT -5
Giles took the book and looked at it. "Yes, well, this is very advanced stuff.' he said, flipping through pages. 'Well, we will be starting from the beginning with everyone. Everyone will be in the same classes for the first year or so and the we will begin special training about the second year.' Rupert handed the book back to the guy and smiled. 'I'm impressed that you have taken the initiative to be prepared."
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Post by Box Whitlock on Jan 17, 2008 18:02:47 GMT -5
"Oh, cool." Well, at least he wouldn't look like a complete moron if everyone had to start off from scratch. He took the book and returned it to the messenger bag. "I don't think 'prepared' is exactly the word I'd use, but thanks." A pause. "So are there a lot of other Watchers-in-training?" He wasn't sure if this was the part of the interview, or whatever this was, where he was supposed to leave and anyway he was curious, so why not with a few more questions? Especially if he was going to be here for over a year. (Boy was his dad going to kill him.)
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