deleons | The Stuck in an Elevator Meme

[Not Richard Gansey slipping between the doors right as they close, arms occupied with a hefty stack of books. Are students even supposed to be using this elevator? His friendly smile does not betray a lack of confidence, nor the impression that he is not where he’s supposed to be.]

Ah. Good morning, Mr. Whelk.

[It’s barely 7am. Classes haven’t even started yet. Rowing practice, you see.

[The elevator jostles, makes a loud mechanical sound, then stops. The emergency lighting comes on, and Gansey furrows his brow up at the ceiling.]

Strange. Does this elevator typically have problems?

I’d expect Aglionby’s maintenance to be up to date with all the donations that go toward it.

[He sounds vaguely disapproving. Listen to this kid talking like he owns the place.]

[There he is, the exact person Whelk is always hoping not to see.

He makes some halfhearted noise that barely counts as communication and keeps his gaze firmly on the line of numbered buttons in front of him. Despite his arms full of books, Richard Campbell Gansey III brings the crisp smell of morning dew and fresh-mown grass sweeping into the elevator with him - right, rowing practice. If he's been to the library since, he's miraculously managed to dodge its musty, dusty aroma. Hell, Whelk presumes that if he happens to look over, he'll still see hints of daybreak's light glinting off the lighter strands in Gansey's tousled hair.

And this is the boy king that wants to usurp his claim on the ley line. Sickening. Give him all the world's gifts and he still needs more.]

Oh, for god's sake. [This? This little nightmare that's trying to take over Whelk's day before he's a full cup of coffee into the morning? This isn't happening.] You can complain to daddy later. For now, just make yourself useful by getting out of my way.

[There are ways to alert security about a broken elevator. Any broken elevator. Usually an alert button, or an intercom that connects directly with their office - yes, there are both of them side by side, with EMERGENCY in big red print. Whelk hammers the button with a closed fist and grumbles into the intercom:]

Stuck in the east wing, between second and third floors. Anyone on this? [No response. Not even the usual hum indicating an active connection.] Hello? Broken elevator in the - hello??

[Well, Jiminy Christmas. Note to self not to talk to Whelk before he’s had his coffee. Gansey raises his eyebrows a bit at the “daddy” comment, considers for a moment how to respond. Before he can, Whelk is bent over trying - and failing - to use the intercom system. Gansey purses his lips a little and crouches down to set his books on the floor, then takes out his phone - the newest iPhone model, but of course.]

No worries. I should have signal—- ah, three bars should do. [He dials the office’s main number and puts the phone to his ear, then shortly begins engaging in a conversation that Whelk will only hear one side of.]

Ah. Good morning Ms. Fitzpatrick. Yes, Richard Gansey. Oh! Wonderful to hear from you as well.

Yes, well, there seems to be a bit of a problem with the elevator in the East wing. It’s stuck. Me and Mr. Whelk, yes. [He glances at his professor, eyebrows raised again.] Yes, he teaches Latin.

The intercom isn’t working I’m afraid—- Ah, yes. Well, I trust you will see to this promptly. We are both very busy men after all. [A perfectly polished, albeit loaded laugh echoes around the elevator.] Yes, of course. Do contact me if there’s any trouble— Yes, this number’s fine. Wonderful. Goodbye.

[Now to Whelk, smile retracted from outwardly amicable to something perfectly civil and polite, though not much more.]

She’ll be on the phone with maintenance now. Might have to call a specialist. Nothing to worry about. I’m sure they’ll find someone to cover your first class should it take more than twenty minutes.

[Did this child

just

flex on him?

Whelk's expression flattens completely, eyes coolly empty and mouth set in a thin line. He sees sketches and scrawled lines from Gansey's notebooks against the backs of his eyelids every time he blinks, each split-second vision bordered by thin, faintly pulsing red lines. Just when he begins to wonder when they'll arrive, a single sinuous whisper coils its way into his mind, followed by another and another.

If he wasn't certain that the most important journal in Gansey's collection is still outside of his grasp, he'd put this boy's head through the elevator wall and use the hole to make his escape.]

Well done, Mr. Gansey. I'm sure at least ten different people will now spend the rest of the week fearing for the future of their employment. [His voice is laced with venom, as if he didn't pull similar stunts daily when he was still able.]

[Gansey's head shifts just ever so slightly to the side, and his smile parts his lips a bit, holding something back even as he brightly says:] Nonsense. Simple maintenance issue. It happens.

Job security, if anything. Certainly you'd have no reason to be worried.

[His aggression - Whelk's - Gansey feels is unwarranted. It's not as if he ordered the elevator to stop working. But he can't so much as say so.

[Yet.]

There's just to wait it out now. How's your morning been otherwise?

[Oh, of course Gansey didn't lean on how important and busy the two of them are to insinuate anything. Of course there was no intent to apply pressure. The tone of his phone call was perfectly innocent and pleasant, just like it sounded, with no extra layers of meaning.

Whelk isn't sure if Gansey thinks he's an idiot or a lifelong plebian. Either way, his impression of the little jackass worsens yet again.]

I need a cigarette. [Muttered under his breath as he pushes his dark hair out of his eyes; then, louder:] Your phone is working. I'm sure you can find better ways to stay entertained.

Are you going to smoke in the elevator?

[He has a hard time veiling his disapproval behind anything this time, smile replaced by two highly raised eyebrows instead. Whelk really isn't terribly concerned with being professional right now, is he?

[Gansey tilts his head again, and that loaded smile returns to his face - but his expression overall doesn't withhold much displeasure at this point.]

Excuse me, professor, but I hope I haven't done anything to offend you. I was simply making my way to my advisor's office.

[God give him strength.]

No, I'm not, and no, you haven't. But neither of us are here to socialize, so let's not pretend otherwise.

[He needs to pull himself together. Hopefully that works as a nice, neutral answer, enough that Gansey will leave him the hell alone and he can clamp down on the chaos in his skull.

After all, this could be an opportunity of sorts, couldn't it? If Whelk plays the role of a normal person having a normal conversation... he might be able to pick Gansey's brain about any ley line details that haven't made it into his notes. It's galling, but Whelk can't exactly let his pride lead the way on this.

With a heavy sigh, he squares his shoulders and schools his features into what he hopes is an apologetic look.]

Pardon my tone, I - suffice it to say this hasn't been a morning worth discussing. [Nor have any of his mornings in the past seven years been worth discussing.]

[Just as if he were a mirror, Richard Gansey squares his shoulders and schools his features, although his look is obliging, not apologetic. He has nothing to apologize for. He politely inclines his head.]

Nothing to pardon. Not much pleasant about being trapped in an elevator is there? [His smile becomes a little more relaxed, but his mind is sharp like a bear trap. There's something strange about the atmosphere in this elevator.

[Maybe he's just feeling a bit claustrophobic. Maybe they both are.]

If your phone isn't working, you're free to any of my books-- Ah, well. Aglionby's books. They're from the library.

At least one in there about Latin's influence on the Welsh language. There are more loan words than I would have expected - though, surely you must know that. [He laughs a bit, and it's not unfriendly. He should try to relax if Whelk is going to.

[~~He kind of wishes he hadn't brought up Latin, considering he wasn't in class on Friday.~~]

[This kid can really babble with the best of them. Whelk's already on the verge of tuning him out by the time he finally hears a hook into the conversation he wants to be having, but he catches it just in time.

Welsh.]

Welsh? [His sidelong look is impressively casual, considering how his heart rate has picked up.] That's an obscure choice.

Ah. Not for my studies. [Now, there's a smile with some authenticity to it. Gansey isn't a stupid kid, but he has no reason to think that one of his teachers would have any problem with what he's studying. Some might write him off as crazy, naïve, perhaps just as some silly kid with a silly hobby. But there's no danger in sharing his Glendower obsession. It isn't a secret. It never has been.] Do you know anything of Welsh history, Mr. Whelk?

The Romans did have some influence in Southern Wales before the empire fell. Perhaps you've come across Caerwent in your studies?

[The only notable Roman civilization in Wales hasn't much to do with Glendower, but he's trying to find a common thread with Whelk's interests. Surely a lover of Latin would have some interest in Roman history, right?]

Mm. History is just a necessity of studying dead languages, not a particular point of interest for me.

[Despite how completely he's just brushed off all of Gansey's excitement, Whelk isn't going out of his way to be rude this time. Speaking frankly about his own personal interest in academics is, in fact, downright intimate for him.

He meets Gansey's newly bright gaze with a stare that's much too incisive for the neutral energy he's trying to project.]

Why Wales?

[Gansey, perhaps foolishly, takes Whelk's interest in his quest at face value.]

I'm looking for something from Wales.

I chose Henrietta, you know - well, you know I wasn't in your class until this year, at least. [Another laugh, but he's not faking cordiality this time. His expression reflects Whelk's - looking into the dark mirror, or so the expression goes. There's a fire in his eyes now.]

Owain Glendower. Do you know the name?

[Here it is. Now Whelk has Gansey moving in the right direction. And he's got no earthly idea how all this connects to the ley line so opening up this conversation was the right move.

Yes. Yes.

Whelk's mind has fallen eerily silent. He could laugh out loud over this unexpected stroke of luck but doesn't even want to waste that much time with maintenance undoubtedly on their way.]

Yes, but only the name. [The "go on" is clearly implied in every line of his expression, his posture - for the moment, Gansey has Whelk's undivided and rapt attention.]

[Is it really luck when you could have just asked all along, Whelk?

[Gansey's smile is wry and knowing, almost as if there's a joke between them that only he knows the punchline to. But it isn't a joke. It's his passion, his life's work, and something that he's never been known to hold back about when asked. However casual he may sound, his voice is still weighted with excitement when he says:]

He was a King. The last true Prince of Wales. He led a rebellion against the English in the early 15th century. Unsuccessful, of course, but...

That's who I'm looking for. Here, in Henrietta. [He says it as if waiting for the inevitable reaction. Whether it will be interest or disbelief - perhaps a mix of both - he feels prepared. This is a conversation that he's had many, many times before.]

[Aha. The words themselves sound like madness, but so does everything involved with the ley line. To Whelk, Gansey's little speech sounds like the key he was lacking when he first tried to jimmy the ley line's lock open.

Does Glendower possess the power himself and use it in aid of others? Does he simply guard it, or pass pieces of it on? It doesn't matter. He's linked to the power of the ley line, that much is obvious, and Gansey has decided he's the center of everything.

Looking into his handsome face now, the unnatural confidence in his crooked smile, the glowing health of his complexion which can only be gifted by an extremely fortunate life, Whelk believes that Gansey would be the first one to uncover this information. But life's heart-hollowing unfairness can be hacked, and this time Whelk will make sure he does everything right - Richard Campbell Gansey III will not be the first to unearth Glendower himself.]

Is that so. Any leads yet?

Henrietta itself.

There’s a ley line that crosses through here - that is, a path of supernatural energy. They’re all over the world, but given the legends of where Glendower was taken after he died, it’s Henrietta’s that I’m concerned with. The town itself is more charged than half the places I’ve traveled.

If he’s here - and I suspect he is - it has to be on that line.

[His smile then should show clearly the difference in motivation. It’s exceedingly genuine, no longer wry, but filled with a desperate passion.]

This is my life’s work.

The Stuck in an Elevator Meme

I’m here to cause grief for Barrington Whelk

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