Lit Up (Tag: Guy & Any Teachers Wanting to Join)

[Slade Konrad]

Up to this point Slade Konrad had been known as a bit of a loner among the staff at the Academy.  A muscle-bound enigma rarely seen outside the gym or his dorm room.  Even when he dared ventured beyond his domain he always moved with a purpose, like he had somewhere to be.  It wasn't the most approachable way to move about the campus.  Lately, though, coinciding with the Headmaster's announcement, the brutish phys ed teacher had been seen outside his realm more and more.  He grew significantly more interested in the Academy's inner workings and even attended a staff meeting or two.

On the decreasingly rare occasion one of his co-workers had engaged him in conversation, Slade was amicable and well-spoken enough but he rarely felt he had much in common with his fellow teachers. He knew he was hated among his peers but was also well aware he wasn't winning any popularity contests. Which is precisely why he was surprised, albeit pleasantly so, when Guy extended an offer for the big guy to join the teachers at Matt's Hole in the Wall for their weekly round of drinks.

Slade was an early arrival to the bar.  He was always early.  It was a habit borne from his 'hurry up and wait' days in the military.  Pushing open the door he stepped into the dim light of the bar.  He'd frequented the place enough to be known, but he was hardly a regular.  He didn't know the names of any of the staff, nor did they him.  Tonight he crossed the bar slowly, taking care to look for the small man who'd extended the invite on the occasion Guy had shown up before him.  Not finding the Head Trainer in any of the small crowd that had already gathered within the place, Slade made his way to the bar where he took up a stool near the end.  He signaled to the bartender as he settled his massive frame onto a stool.  "Can I get an Arrogant Bastard?"  He asked the bartender when he'd made it to Slade's end of the bar.

[Guy LeGrange]

Guy was usually late anytime he was heading out drinking. It wasn't as if he were purposefully trying to be rude or anything along those lines; he simply didn't feel that you should rush or, God forbid, arrive early to be drinking. Drinking was an activity best done when the sun had tucked itself away for a period, and preferably in the company of others. It would be best yet if said company involved members of the fairer sex, but Guy certainly had no qualms about a "guy's night out." After all, the descriptor used his name.

And of course he elected to head to Matt's. The grimy, gringy bar suited Guy's tastes, especially since the food practically slid down your throat when you ate it, and, in truth, that was most of the reason why Guy went to places like this. Oh, sure, he drank; enjoyed it, hence the earlier paragraph, but Guy vastly preferred eating the pub food. Something about it just sat well with him; probably helped that the stuff just tasted really damn good as well.

He saw the hulking man he'd invited, recognizing Slade Konrad. It wasn't as if there were many men of his stature around Kalispell after all. Guy nodded to a few other locals as he made his way to the bar, pausing a short distance from Slade. "Good God," he said, looking up at the man, "you're absolutely massive. I could climb atop you and ride you into battle. Wouldn't that be a sight to see? Of course, I don't think that would really help you any, though it might confuse our enemies long enough for you to get a few swings in. I would also make an excellent helmet, and I might even be able to distract them with banter," Guy gestured for the bartender, recognizing the regular, who would no doubt prepare Guy's regular. The dwarf slapped several bills on the counter, jerking his head toward Slade as well. If it was one thing that Guy had learned, it was that paying for someone's drinks could excuse most of what came out of his mouth.

Besides, it was just good manners to cover the bill if you were the one doing the inviting.

[Slade Konrad]

"What can I say?" Slade countered as Guy made his presence known with a quip about his size. "I ate my Wheaties." The big man gave a chuckle as he shifted some to face the dwarf. "You're going to ride me, Master Blaster style?" The image of Guy and Slade recreating the Mad Max character brought out a grin. Slade has always liked Guy, at least from a distance. Many of the students spoke highly of the Head Trainer and what little Slade knew of him, he took his role within the Academy seriously and understood the true weight of their professions.

Slade nodded and gestured a thanks with his beer as he lifted it to his lips. "Thanks for inviting me out." He said, wanting to get the pleasantries out of the way as soon as possible. He was thankful, to be sure, but there didn't need to be a big deal made of it. They were men, after all.

[Guy LeGrange]

"And I ate nothing but junk food and candy, so clearly our mothers were right all along," agreed Guy. He knew that more junk food would be on its way soon enough, though that didn't stop him from moving about and trying to get a good view. He'd learned that looking impatient could light a fire under people. Normally he preferred to just wait and make them nervous with caustic remarks, but he knew the current server would react better to this.

And yes, Guy did think it perhaps a little sad how well he knew the servers at the local dive bar. "That was my plan exactly. Though I'm fairly certain that I'd need a firearm to really pull it off. We'll have to arrange it," of course Guy clearly had no intentions of ever doing that. He'd never get anywhere near a battle if he could help it. He'd seen the movies: his people did not fare well in combat, not unless they wore a fair amount of armor and had ridiculous beards.

At least Guy's drink arrived, which gave him something to wet his whistle. He wasn't about to drink too much without having something nice and greasy to soak it up. Guy knew full well that his height left him with only so much space to fill, though he could put down enough for a man his size. He had conversation to keep him distracted though: "Well, I actually invited Sorcha first," he replied glibly, "but then I realized that she'd probably be too intimidating. And I wouldn't want to give Dr. Riggs the wrong idea, and Dr. Campbell is working tonight,' of course Guy had simply invited a few people; Slade had been the first to respond so Slade was the one that Guy had made plans with. That was how it worked. Not that he'd let anyone actually know that, least of all his drinking partner for the evening.

[Slade Konrad]

Slade could put alcohol down with the best of them. It wasn't just his size that lent itself well to such a task, but many years of being a 'Joe' had prepared his body and liver to drink the way he'd prepared his muscles to hit things really hard. He took a monster pull from the pint glass, taking care of at least half the thick beer contained within in one shot. "I'll keep that in mind should we get into a scrap." He chuckled again at the thought of the two of them in a fight together. He didn't doubt the little man was cunning and could probably hold his own.

"Oh, so I'm, what, your third choice?" Slade chuckled though as he spoke with mock offense to Guy's admission. "Eh, whatever, I'll take being the low man on the totem pole." His pre-SPECTRE interaction with his fellow staff members usually ranged from utter apathy to tense confrontations. He was satisfied with merely being considered. "Yeah, I know I've sorta been the dick of the staff since I started." He admitted himself, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the bar, lightly rolling the bottom of his glass on the bartop. "Guess the 'do the job and go home' line of thinking doesn't lend itself well to getting along with teachers."

[Guy LeGrange]

"Something like that," replied Guy, smiling at the large man. Again, he certainly could've admitted to Slade that he'd selected the man based on the rapidity of his response, not to mention the fact that Guy genuinely wanted to get to know the people he worked with. Good coworker relations were important in most workplaces; throw in a bunch of super-powers and a government agency sending out trained deathsquads and suddenly corporate retreats became a bit of a higher priority.

"You're not the biggest asshole in Kalispell though. Not even the biggest ex-military asshole," replied Guy, nodding. "I'm sure you've heard of Officer Johnson: was the big, mohawked idiot flirting with everything that breathed at that silly speed dating event. So maybe I just wanted to make sure you weren't marching to the same drum," Guy tapped the bar, raising his brows. There was something of a question hanging there: was he? Guy already knew that Slade ranked several slots above his fellow veteran; one encountered with Johnson was enough to let anyone know that much.

"But yes, you're thinking of it wrong. Think of us more as being part of your unit," Guy pursed his lips, "only with hormonal idiots running around, so it's not the perfect metaphor. But the enemy is out there, or, well, out here," said Guy, pointing toward the door, "and not all of them have hostile intentions. Hey, look at that, the metaphor actually worked. I'm impressed with myself," and Guy rewarded himself with a quick drink, feeling that a little booze for the mental gymnastics was well warranted.

[Slade Konrad]

"I haven't had the pleasure of being formally introduced." Slade said, referring to JJ. "But I saw him at the speed dating thing." His brow furrowed some as he took another large pull from his beer, nearly emptying the glass already. "You don't come off as the kind of guy to do the speed dating thing." Slade commented idly, glancing to Guy. Naturally, Slade was well aware the he didn't seem the type for such games either, but hey, conversation, right?

The broad teacher's shoulders shrugged faintly though, as Guy likened the Academy staff to a military element. "It's a little different, the guys in the barracks and the other teachers. But you're not wrong." He admitted. There was simultaneously more and less professionalism between himself and the guys he shared his horror stories with. Evenings in the barracks could get crazy. Booze, pranks, racists and sexist jokes, the sorts of things that would make the average civilian question the effectiveness of military training. However, the other side of the coin brought a bond and sense of brotherhood and discipline forged in a fire few could ever comprehend. When a well-trained infantry platoon was given an objective there was little that would stand in their way.

Guy did have one thing nailed down, to which Slade nodded heavily. "Yeah, you're right. I've got a bad feeling about this whole Initiative." Slade had taken to refraining from using the dreaded "S" word when discussing current events. "It just feels like there's a war coming." The big man lowered his tone for that part. Last thing they needed was someone overhearing and taking his words out of context. "And if that's the case..." He sighed softly and polished off the last of his beer, waving to the bartender for another. "Well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you how ugly that could be." Slade didn't know if Guy truly knew war in the same was as a soldier, but he was certain the head trainer was more than experienced in the ways of the world and wouldn't need an explanation.

[Guy LeGrange]

"Don't know if I'd call it a pleasure," Guy drolly responded, smirking a little at the thought. Strange how that man didn't have any friends but didn't seem to fully realize that fact either. Some people did seem fully capable of living in their own little fantasy world. Though that certainly didn't apply to the two grim faced men sitting at the bar nursing their drinks now. Well, drinks and soon a big, sloppy plate of greased cheesy fries and matching pub cooked chicken planks that a waiter plopped down in front of Guy. The plopping was so sloppy that Guy had to pick up a few fries that had fallen free from the plate, moving them to his mouth.

Somewhat different, though similar enough. Guy had figured that would be more or less right. He'd only heard of war second hand, but what he'd heard had given him a fairly good idea of what it would be like, especially the boring bits between all the stuff from which action movies were made. That the conversation then turned to SPECTRE, or, as Slade more circumspectly called it, "The Initiative," didn't surprise him either. The idea of a coming war had him nodding his head, even caused him to pause, staring at the food instead of nibbling away at it.

"I'd rather not experience it firsthand," he said, feeling that he was repeating himself there, "not least of all because I suspect that we'll be putting students in the ground before this is all over with. Our," he paused, looking around, "unique traits already make us more susceptible to early demises. Shame that they want to accelerate the process," Guy took a bite of a chicken plank, chewing away, enjoying the grease that stung his tongue. "I've got a student who would literally die without her power. She'll probably already die young. Those bastards are robbing her of her youth, robbing most of them,' Guy took another bite, then chuckled, "though I guess it means things will be ever so interesting for us in the coming days."

[Slade Konrad]

Slade offered a light chuckle not just to Guy's response about potentially meeting the other prominent military vet in the area but also to the heaping pile of deep fried grease that had been set in front of the small man. He had to give it to Guy, he knew how to eat. With a pause in their conversation Slade put in an order for the same dish as Guy. Not to emulate, but it looked good and it saved Slade from having to go through the menu and guess what may come out of the bar's fryer in an edible state. Efficiency was the name of the game.

The lighter mood brought on by the exchange in regards to the 'esteemed' local law enforcement official didn't fade even as the conversation turned much darker. At least not from Slade's point of view. War, and discussions about war, became commonplace. He wasn't immune to the effects, not by a long shot, and he was probably more paranoid about SPECTRE than most. Slade was just very adept at hiding it. "When a soldier is killed the entire Army mourns but we don't pity." Slade said after a thoughtful moment after Guy had finished speaking. "A soldier volunteered, signed their life on the dotted line." It was cliched, yes, but true. "Every last one of us knew what it could mean." He gave a polite nod and a smile to the bartender as a fresh beer was placed in front of him. "These kids..." He had to pause a moment before continuing but he filled the space with a pull from the glass. "These kids didn't sign up for anything. Yet, here we are." Slade agreed with Guy's estimate of the situation. He was beginning to like the Head Trainer the more he spoke with him. At least someone had a clear view of what was going on around them.

[Guy LeGrange]

When a soldier dies, the army mourns but doesn't pity. That sounded more philosophical to Guy than he'd expected to hear out of the hulking Slade. Not that Guy didn't believe that well-built men were capable of philosophy; he was on friendly terms with several, but it didn't make it any less of a pleasant surprise when they confirmed a thinking mind behind all the meat. Every last one of them knew what it would mean, but the kids...

"None of them know," agreed Guy, nodding. "They're innocent children, for the most part. There's even a Squad of them pulled together. A black girl from New York, a Southern boy from Louisiana, a Romanian, a troubled windcaster... they sound more like the cast of a John Hughes film than someone who should be volunteering for it. I've trained at least two of them," Guy sighed, taking another bite. "I don't fancy putting more into the ground." He paused to munch on more of the food, thoroughly enjoying the taste of it.

"You know," he said, his tone switching to a slightly more philosophical bend, "I signed up for this because my old trainer said I had a knack for it. Said that I had the personality and the will to push people into being the best they could be. I certainly didn't sign up to train people to attack others or defend themselves, but here I am, feeling like the most useless of drill sergeants."

[Sorcha Adams]

Better late than never. Not that a cat was ever late for anything. Cats arrived exactly when they meant to and everyone else was simply early. Though 'everyone else' turned out to be only two other people so far. But they did paint a pretty amusing picture, the giant and the half pint secluding themselves at the end of the bar and chatting each other up between drinks and what appeared to be a basket of food sitting under a thin film of grease.

"Well don't you two paint a miserable picture," she said as as a way of announcing herself as she approached, mindful that Slade would be able to see her coming if his attention shifted away from the Trainer. Sorcha didn't need a repeat of the last time she'd approached him. She'd like to get at least a beer or two into her stomach before she wound up in a bar fight, thank you.

She settled herself into a seat next to Guy and stole a fry off of his plate with a grin, manners be damned. "Don't people go to bars to drink and have some fun with their buddies? The two of you look like you just came from a funeral or something." She popped the fry into her mouth, pretending that the oil trapped in the air bubbles under its surface weren't hot enough to scald her tongue. He hadn't been kidding about the greasy food.

[Slade Konrad]

Slade went to reply to the little man's thoughtful response on recent events but was cut off by the sound of Sorcha's voice behind them. Shifting his broad shoulders he glanced back to the slender woman approaching and offered a faint smile. "Evening." He said politely, even going so far as to slid off the barstool to stand when it was apparent she would be joining them.

"We were just discussing current events over a basket of what I think is deep fried mayonnaise." Slade chuckled lightly as he took his seat once Sorcha had gone for her own. He was relieved she'd shown up. While he always felt it good to vent the stress of the day, he never looked forward to such talk. Maybe with her obvious intent to discuss anything other than the doubt, insecurity, and paranoia that had permeated even the staff the topic of conversation would turn, and stay, toward much lighter fare.

[Guy LeGrange]

The lighter voice caused Guy to turn, his brows and his lips going up at the sight of Sorcha Adams. He nodded to the woman, raising his glass before turning to the bartender, ordering another drink for the woman. Sorcha got in her opening words as well as a fry, with Guy giving her a look filled with feigned indignation.

"We were just bemoaning the fact of fair ladies to share our drink with," said Guy, gesturing about them. "It's just not the same for two virile men like ourselves. True, we were discussing the possibility of my riding upon Slade, but he's more of a pitcher," he took another drink and ate some of his own food, only to nearly cough at Slade's comment, shooting the other man a dark look. "How dare you cast insults over this fine... thing that has been lovingly deep fried and smothered in the kind of cheese that requires a pump to dispense," Guy took an extremely large bite of the food, obviously hoping to spite.

At least Sorcha's drink appeared in record time. Amazing what happened when a pretty, dangerous woman appeared.

[Sorcha Adams]

Sorcha stuck her tongue out at Guy's indignant expression while she settled in at the bar, a glob of chewed potato on display along with it before it disappeared back into her mouth and she turned to accept the drink that had been ordered for her with a polite smile for the bartender. The cold beer was very much appreciated for her slightly burnt tongue, an injury which she mentally chalked up to karma for stealing the fry in the first place.

"You know I bet there's some people that would pay a lot of money to see that," she commented with a grin over the edge of her glass while doing her damnedest not the let the mental image of the two trainers slip into her head and only mostly succeeding. Not that she minded the thought of a pair of 'virile men' in various states of undress, but that particular image was just a little much without getting several more drinks in her system first. At least the general mood of the conversation seemed to have improved with her appearance which was a good thing. Depressing talk was bad enough without adding alcohol to the mix and she could easily fret over the state of things back at the school instead of wasting a good bar night on it.

"A fat lot of good all that deep fried love will do you if you choke trying to shove it all down your throat at once," she said, mildly impressed by just how much food had managed to fit into Guy's mouth. Though considering just how much grease was covering the stuff it probably wasn't all that hard to just sort of slide it in there without much trouble. Managing to chew it once it was in without making a huge mess was another matter. "But then again if the two of you are playing together I guess it doesn't hurt to practice shoving something that big in there." She turned in her seat to rest her back against the edge of the bar counter and sipped at her beer, fighting to keep an innocent expression on her face.

[Slade Konrad]

Slade couldn't help but crack a smile at the brief exchange between the two other staff members, even though it involved implications of him partaking in acts that... just... no. "Not sure if Guy is my type, really." Was all he really could offer to the conversation. The thought did give him more amusement than anything. With such a size difference how would that even work? Just the fact the thought had ran through his head made the big man chuckle and simply turn back to the beer in front of him.

It's true, Slade hadn't been the social butterfly that may have been expected of him since his arrival at Bellefonte, and he was starting to realize why. Even with two co-workers he'd shown a penchant for getting along with nearby, Slade still found himself drifting into his own mind. The shoving big things in mouths comment saw to it that wouldn't happen at the moment. With a quirked brow Slade glanced to Sorcha. "Who needs practice?" He said with a chuckle. "I've got a pretty damn big mouth."