This is the Stuff

[Charity Croft]

Charity let out another sigh of frustration and looked toward the ceiling, as if there was some adorable kitten in there that would pop out and tell her to just keep trying. They were nearing the end of the semester and she'd only just come back from having the stupid camping trip with the students that definitely could have gone a lot better. At least she didn't think that quite everyone on the trip hated her, though she definitely didn't want to poll them.

Then it had been come back and find out that she needed to pull together her files for review before the summer months. Which in turn meant that she had file upon file to sort through, which she'd been doing as admirably as she could manage. However, she managed to come upon a set of files that she didn't immediately recognize. Charity spent a few seconds looking at it, frowning, thumbing through things, and eventually figuring out that this was a batch assigned to another trainer, one that she thought had just returned or something. She didn't recognize the name, at any rate.

Sighing, Charity gathered her things up into an armful and headed across the cubicle, eventually locating the right name.

"Excuse me, are you..." she said, moving around the files in her hand to look at the name, "Terrance Layton ?"

Because she really, really hoped so.

[Terrance Layton]

Ugh, mornings. Terry yawned, leaning over the desk and scratching his messy hair tiredly. Yet another bad night. The usual night. At least he'd had some peace and quiet since most of the brats had gone to that silly camping trip (yeah, pass) but today was going to be different. Everyone was back, yay. He grunted, trying to keep his eyes open as he took another sip of his coffee.

"You like your job. You like your job..." He whispered to himself as he stretched out and cracked his back. Oof, he was getting old. Too old to deal with teenagers too, apparently. Okay, he had to get himself started. If he got busy enough, maybe he'd forget about how tired he was and how little sleep he had. Ha! Like that ever helped.

So Terry moved around his desk, frowning as he didn't see any files. Weird. What was he supposed to do today then? Maybe- a smirk started to form- Maybe he didn't have any for the day! Maybe he had a day off... right after the students arrived. Yeah, not likely. He wasn't going to fight the universe though. Oh, no. He took another sip of coffee. He could just sit here and relax and maybe sneak a nap and-

"Hmm- um." He quickly swallowed his sip of coffee as someone called him, raising a finger to motion the person to wait. The woman, from her voice. He turned on his chair and looked up tiredly at the girl. "Yeah?" He asked in an annoyed voice. He hadn't meant to, but it was usually how he spoke. Oh no. Those folders. "Shit." He couldn't help but say it out loud. "Those are mine, aren't they?" He let go of a deep breath. Fuck you, universe.

[Charity Croft]

Well, he looked scruffy. Then again, in Charity's experience, pretty well all of the male staff and about half of the female staff at Bellefonte looked on the scruffy side. She just put it out of her mind, instead raising the folders.

Only to stop as he raised a finger. Charity tilted her head slightly to the side, trying to figure out what he was doing and saying. A word of annoyance soon came out, which had Charity's eyes narrowing behind her glasses. She definitely put up with enough crap from students without having to deal with it from her fellow trainers. She was sorely tempted to try and pull rank or something, but he did seem to be genuinely apologetic soon after.

"Yes they are," she said, holding them out for him. "Though I wouldn't worry about it: they mess up files fairly often around here. Seems like barely a week's gone by when I haven't gotten someone else's file. Doesn't help that they still hand me stuff with my dad's last name on it," Charity added a shrug, trying to look like that recent death didn't bother her. She held the folders out a little more toward him. "You'll probably want these those."

[Terrance Layton]

And she already hated him, right? He saw her narrow her eyes and he almost smirked at himself. That had to be a new record. He glared at the folders as if it was a pain to do even raise an arm to grab them and nodded at her words. They mess files fairly often. "Yeah, I've noticed." He said in a low voice, still feeling grumpy and moved to take another sip of coffee. Wait. She'd said her father?

"Your father works here?" He asked, wondering who she was. He was still fairly new around the staff in Bellefonte to even know the teachers apart, much less learn their names. He'd probably seen her about though, not that he paid much attention. But she held the folders out a bit more and he grabbed them with a roll of his eyes. Fine, universe! He'll do the work. He half placed the folders on his lap, using one hand to open them as he held his coffee with the other.

"Wouldn't say 'want'." He muttered, quickly scanning his subjects for the day. Such a pain.

[Charity Croft]

Charity heard the grump, but she also saw the coffee. Ah, he was probably one of those who hated being on this side of noon and just generally groused at everyone who came within range. Charity could understand that. Not everyone could be as chipper as she was, after all. She just had to pull through, power through, be all positivity and joy and everything.

"Uh, worked," she had to correct, letting out a sad smile, "which is why they're still sending me his paperwork instead of him handling it." She waited another moment, then realized that he probably didn't know her last name, or at least hadn't put the name with the face. "I'm Charity Legrange," she explained, then added a bit of a head bob, "daughter of the famous slash infamous Guy Legrange, the dwarf trainer loved by hundreds."

Which had been something of an understatement. Felt like nearly everyone Charity met thought that her dad was better than her. She was at least learning to pull away from it, which had to count for something, right?

Oh, right, folders. Charity extended them for the guy to take, watching as he pulled them together. As he did, however, she heard a familiar little jingle sounding from the pile. Charity stood there for a few seconds before pointing. "That's... that's coming from the folders, isn't it?"

Please say she hadn't lost her phone in the paperwork...

[Terrance Layton]

Worked. Past tense. There was a story there, and Terry stared at her as she spoke. An usual technique to get the other person talking. Plus that small smile didn't seem all that happy. "Why would he still have paperwork if he's not working here anymore?" He questioned, staring at her. But the next thing she said explained it all. Terry straightened his back as he heard her name. Ah. Legrange.

"Infamous indeed." He said, still looking at her. He scratched his beard with a free hand and wondered what he could say. He cleared his throat, considering how bad he was at sounding even the slightest bit sympathetic. He still tried anyway. "I heard what happened. I was-" He shook his head. That wasn't important now. Not when someone's dad had just died. He'd never been close to his own father, but he'd treated enough people in Bellefonte with daddy issues to know about the subject. "I'm sorry." What else could he say? "Are you alright?" stupid question. What a psychologist he turned out to be.

He looked down at the folders as they started to... ring? "What the-" The next thing that happened just seemed to be the cherry of his disappointing morning. He stood, of course, and a cellphone fell from the files and onto the floor. And while that happened, he managed to tilt his coffee mug enough to drop the hot coffee on his leg and some folders.

"Fuck me!" He exclaimed loudly as he felt his leg burn, pulling at his pants. He then turned around the office, holding a hand up at the rest of whoever was around. "Sorry! Sorry." He apologised to any who would turn to look. Terry stared down at the files and the phone and smirked, shaking his head as well as pulling his wet pants from his leg. What a morning.

[Charity Croft]

Charity didn't really want to answer the paperwork question. She barely wanted to acknowledge the existence of paperwork at all, let alone in specific. He probably figured it out when he heard the name: he certainly acted like he'd heard of it before. That had her nodding. What had her nearly flinching was as he continued.

"It's alright, really," she said, trying to cut him off. The last thing she needed or wanted was more forced sympathy from people who only sort of knew Guy or who felt like they owed her some kind of apologies or something. She got it, she really did: she just also got rather tired of hearing it. "I'm doing okay," by okay she meant I still need to just get super drunk and talk about my dad for a while, but she didn't see any reason to tell that to someone she just met.

Thankfully, she was saved by the bell, or, well, the phone in this case. The phone slid, and then the mug shifted. Charity let out an "oh" and an apology soon followed as she darted forward. She bent down to try and help, pulling at his pants. "We need to get your pants off!" Charity practically yelled, not quite immediately realizing that there were people around to hear them. "That's going to be super hot! Quick, get the pants off! I'll try to find something to clean it up..." she started looking. Surely he had napkins or wet wipes or something, right? Charity knew she had some in her office...

[Terrance Layton]

Doing okay. He snorted, quite loudly too. It might've been rude to respond to someone's pain that way, but he really wasn't buying it. "You know how half the kids I treat start our conversations?" He asked with a smirk and half a glare. "I'm okay." He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. "But fine. Talk about it whenever you want to talk about it. I'm not the kind of person who'd push someone to talk about stuff." Actually he was. He was a fucking psychologist! But here he was, pretending not to care. He looked at her sideways and smiled. "I met your father when I was a student." He said, "Everyone did. He never trained me though." So he didn't know much about him. "I heard stories. Good ones. But I'm sure they're not true. All exaggerations. That usually happens when someone dies." So much tact. But he was trying to push buttons. He wasn't sure if it'd work though.

The bell saved her though. Or rather, the ring. If it'd been anyone else, he'd be laughing at his misfortune. What the hell was wrong with this girl? And of course her first reaction after him yelling out 'Fuck me' was to yell out 'we need to get your pants off'. There went his reputation in school, right down the toilet. Thanks for playing!

"Okay, first of- Hands off!" He said, completely confused as to why this girl was pulling at his pants. Boundaries! He was so not used to have someone pull at his pants. Wow, wasn't that just sad? No time to think of that. "Second-" He turned to the small crowd "This is so NOT what it looks like and- No, get off." He slapped her hand, looking at her as if she was crazy. She had to be! Who does that?! At least she said 'clean up' though her wording was so not helping his situation.

"I- uh..." He sighed, covering his red face. He just got here. He JUST got the job. He was going to make it big here, be respected, be someone, and now this girl had gone and ruined everything. "There- there's tissues in the last drawer." He said, motioning at his desk, totally forgetting that was where he hid his brandy. Well, fuck.

[Charity Croft]

The kids he treated? Wasn't he a trainer? Charity was tempted to ask and try to get to the bottom of that very dodgy comment that definitely seemed to indicate that it needed gotten to the bottom to. There was the mention of her father too and talk about tragedy and pushing buttons and if it hadn't been for some spilled coffee, Charity might actually have started spilling her guts then and there.

Instead, the phone rang, the coffee spilled, and apparently Charity had acted like an idiot again. She glared at the guy as he told her to get off. "I'm trying to help you!" she insisted. "It's not my fault that you spilled it on your lap!" Well, it sort of was, as her phone had rung and all, but he could've totally put his coffee somewhere where this sort of thing wouldn't happen. Charity still took a step back.

An glared. Even as he sighed and covered his red face. Though she quickly realized something, her eyes widening as she turned. "It's not like that!" she insisted, waving hands. "He just spilled hot coffee over his crotch and I'm trying to help!"

That sounded reasonable, right? Charity nodded and turned back, ducking down to dig around where the tissues were. She pulled the drawer open and... "And apparently the special medicine?" she asked, pursing her lips together as she worked around the tissues. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be too judgy: I do have some wicked strong mint tea in my desk."

[Terrance Layton]

"You're not helping!" He yelled right back at her, "You're just making things worse!" And now he 'spilled it on his lap'. Wow, this girl was on FIRE. "What's your power?! Speaking completely in innuendo?!" He yelled at her, completely losing his cool demeanour. Good job, Terry. Yell at the girl who just lost her father. "And it's completely your fault! Or is that NOT your phone?!" He was making friends already! Ugh. This had to be the worst day ever, including his dad's funeral, though that day hadn't been that bad. The catering had been decent. Wait- coffee, pants, quirky girl. Right.

She tried explaining and he shook his head. NOW she helps. "Yeah, good time to butt in." He glared at her, still blushing furiously, and moved back just to get her away from him. This was NOT happening. It couldn't. There had to be cameras somewhere, right? He was being pranked by some idiotic students. There was no way in hell Legrange's daughter could be so- so- "No need to mention my crotch." He added in a low voice, forcing a smile and glaring at her.

"I-" Special Medicine? His eyes widened. He moved quickly, kicking the drawer shut after she pulled the tissues out. He glared at her as she joked about it. "Are you sure that's mint?" He wondered, thinking she was high. She HAD to be. "I'd double check I were you. Those leaves can be tricky when dehydrated." He glared at her again, still trying his best to keep his smile, and stretched his hand out.

"Tissues." He ordered, "If you don't mind."

[Charity Croft]

"I am so helping!" Charity yelled right back, knowing full well that she sounded about as mature as a kindergartner sent away from home for the first time. "And ha! My power has nothing to do with speaking, so there!" Because clearly the first response just wasn't enough: Charity had to actively keep talking. That was the smart move to make right now.

Back to helping, moving and gathering stuff. "I've been helping!" She practically snapped again, "and you're lucky that I know this is all because of your hot crotch!" because apparently her special power was speaking in nothing but innuendo. Charity went back to rummaging, pulled the bottle aside. It seemed that her attempt to dissolve the tension via a joke did not go well, which had her eyes narrowing.

"There you go," she said primly, handing off the tissues, "your tissues that you kindly asked for," and Charity moved to put the bottle on the desk, figuring they'd put it away when they were done. However, as she pulled her hand back, she found it wobbling, and she ended up making a dive, hoping that it didn't fall (or that her antics didn't end up knocking it further over). Of course, this also meant that she was sort of diving toward his lap...

[Terrance Layton]

"Really? That's your comeback?!" She was so exasperating! Worse than students even. Terry glared down at her, shaking his head in anger, his face still fully red. She was such a child! And here he was, taking the high road. "You're so dumb!" Maybe not the high road exactly, but still a road. This was such a mess.

His hot crotch. He placed his hands on his hips, glaring down at her as she went down once more. He threw his head back and let out a long groan, letting out a breath a long and shaking his head. "You are SO bad at this." He complained, still looking up. "How could you possibly make things any worse? You- hold on. You're smearing it all over! Stop- stop doing that. You have to pull- gah." It was then that he looked to his left and saw a random teacher staring at him, seemingly very interested in what was happening. Terry glared at her for a moment before realising what this must look like from her perspective, what with the desk covering Chastity just enough to make it seem she was- and he'd been throwing his head back. He blushed again and leaned down to protect himself. "Get up. Just get up!"

He snatched the tissues out of her hand and did the cleaning himself... though that random woman was still- "Can I help you!?" He snapped, before they turned. He was still blushing furiously, sending glared at this other trainer. "Hey, no- Let go of that!" His bottle! And off she went to his lap again and he barely caught her by the head, holding her in place before she could get any closer to... places. Although now it looked like... His face turned red again. Nope. He couldn't do this.

"Out." He said suddenly with all the authority of a trainer, although she was a trainer too. "Get up. Come on. Up." He pulled at her arm, inwardly wishing her powers didn't have some super strength mixed in or he wouldn't be able to move her one inch. "NOW, young lady. NOW!"

[Charity Croft]

"Nuh uh!" was the super adult response that Charity was able to fling back at this guy. You'd think that he'd be a lot more focused on the coffee he'd so recently spilled on his crotch instead of tearing Charity down at every opportunity. She was half tempted to point that out to him, as though maybe some indication that he should be experiencing the worst pain ever would be enough.

Well, they squabbled about it, smearing and then apparently someone else had shown up. At least they hadn't spilled the alcohol, which had definitely been a legitimate concern of Charity's, what with nudging that bottle a few moments ago and all. Charity yelped out some protests of her own, turning and smiling at their audience: "He just spilled some coffee," she tried to explain, pointing at his crotch.

Then there was some pushing and Charity somehow ended up getting upright. Charity wasn't even sure how precisely that happened, since she seemed to recall falling down. However there she was, most definitely standing up and looking down at the guy who looked red and--- "Young lady?" she said, stomping her foot. "I'm probably older than you are! And I'm a fully qualified trainer," another pause, and Charity nodded, gesturing toward him, "plus, you still have my phone."

[Terrance Layton]

That was it. He had no more patient left, although he'd be the first to admit he had little to begin with. She'd already probably ruined his reputation among staff, she'd... launched at his crotch, and yelled all that stuff and ruined his pants and wow, was his leg hurting now. He actually hoped her cellphone had broken. That'd teach her! Her... the girl who just lost her father. Dammit, it was hard to hate her when doing so made him feel like such a dick. Not that he was about to admit it.

Terry scratched his beard, glaring at her as she yelled and explained and whatever it was she said. "Are you done?" He asked coldly after she finished talking, rolling his eyes as he pulled at his pants. And now it looked like he'd peed himself. Okay, could he say it? He hated Mr. Legrange's girl. As awesome as he'd been, this girl was a mess. A complete and disappointing mess.

He gave her the stupid phone, not checking if it was even broken or anything and glared at her, shaking his head. "Daddy must've been proud." He muttered sarcastically under his breath, still sending her a glare. Okay, maybe that'd been cruel, but at this point he felt so humiliated he just didn't care. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, trying to work out the headache she'd produced. He needed coffee. More coffee. Soon.

"Not that this wasn't a pleasure," He said, turning to glare at her again, his voice cold, "Which wasn't, thank you for that. I think now I need to go to the infirmary and check this burn." It hurt like hell, but he wasn't about to admit weakness to this girl. Was she doing all of this on purpose as some sort of competition between trainers? Nobody could be THAT daft, right?

[Charity Croft]

Was she done? Charity's eyes narrowed and she brought a hand up, ready to tell him off again. instead she grabbed the phone as it was offered. Though barely had Charity grabbed it then she was pointing it at Terrence as though it were a taser that she'd already set to stun. "See, that wasn't hard, was it?" she practically snapped. She hadn't quite heard his slight (which was for the best really).

What she did notice was his pinching his head, then the talk about getting to the infirmary. Charity had to wince at that. Her eyes went down to the afflicted area, before realizing that meant looking at his crotch. That realization made her eyes bounce right back up to look Terrence much closer to his face.

"Do you need some help?" she asked. She rolled her eyes. "I know you don't really want me to tag along or anything, but if walking's going to be hard or you don't know where the infirmary is or you're worried, I am pretty much here," she finished, then shifted awkwardly, her eyes again drifting down. She pointed at it. "And I am sorry. About that," a nod, "I didn't mean for you to be hurt. Like I said: I was trying to help."

Charity managed to stop herself there, pulling her mouth shut and just nodding. Once.