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 A Push In The Right Direction [Mathieu]

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Francis Bonnefoy

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Join date : 2011-07-21
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PostSubject: A Push In The Right Direction [Mathieu]   Mon Jul 25, 2011 11:14 am

[Setting, go.]

Leaning back against the rock wall, Francis stretched his arms above his head, popping his back and working out the kinks in his shoulders. Finishing the few remaining papers of the previous semester in one hour? Pure exaltation. And a little pride, but that was to be expected.

Shelving the folder onto the filing rack (internally labeled 'it's not over just yet'), the Frenchman (or undine; pure semantics) stood up from his pillowed seat--a large cushion that looked more like a bean-bag--and ambled toward the icebox he kept in his office, intent on pouring himself a glass of wine. (A drink on the job was acceptable when one worked at a school where no student seemed capable of answering questions on the basic properties of water.)

Office... in the loosest sense of the word. Being a undine, he couldn't stand being holed up in a building for more than a few hours at a time. With the headmaster's permission, he'd secured himself a plot of land by the lake-bed (more of a beach, really) and adjacent streams--not far from campus, but enough to gain some peace and quiet. (More than half the time, he held classes within kilometers of the area--partially out of laziness, but it was justified by his teaching subjects.) Consequently, his workspace was little more than a cove... with some adjustments. The minor cliffs overhead allowed a small waterfall to tumble incessantly near the abode (except during dry months), hitting the rocks below with a soothing, rhythmic sound. Natural light bathed the area, although a small extension of rock allowed for a natural shade, in turn. He could adjust if need be, but why disturb the environment around him? The interior was more than enough, with stone flooring and comfortable chairs, plants he'd nurtured with Toris's help, and various decorations and antiques he'd collected over the years.

For others, it was rather impractical. Which is generally why he didn't call any of his students, parents, or other staff to this location, except on special occasions.

Speaking of which... Francis poured a quarter of aged Cabernet Sauvignon into a glass and wondered if Mathieu had received his note. They needed to talk.

[/kind of made up the area as I wrote |DDDD;]
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Matthew Williams
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PostSubject: Re: A Push In The Right Direction [Mathieu]   Thu Jul 28, 2011 7:07 am

Matthew was walking slowly. Very slowly. It wasn't like this was a new experience for him, he'd gotten notes from teachers all the time regarding his education... Mr Bonnefoy rarely sent notes out to students, as far as Matthew knew, and he was, naturally, worried. No one liked being in trouble, and Matthew felt like he was going to be either told off, or told to do better. Not better in swimming, he imagined, as Matthew was already one of the top students in that class- since he started, even. Being primarily made of water made it hard for Matthew not to be good at it. He enjoyed being good at things too, naturally. But he wasn't good at things which weren't musical or art-y or water based, so classes were very difficult for him. Matthew supposed he was going to have to talk about that stupid Environmental Science lesson. He tried his best, he really did, what more did Mr Bonnefoy want?

So, Matthew continued down the hall until he came to a door. This wasn't an office door, though, it was a door which lead to... outdoors. Opening it, he slipped through and took a deep breath of fresh air. Mr Bonnefoy was lucky to have an outside office. If he followed the path, he was lead up to the large waterfall. He'd not been here before, so he wondered what it'd be like. He'd been in a few teachers' offices and they all looked pretty normal in most respects, but they all had different strange features which Matthew supposed was due to their being magical creatures. This, however, was not normal. In the slightest. He wondered where Francis was. Behind the waterfall? Was he expected to go through it? Or was Mr Bonnefoy somewhere else? One way to find out. He called out, "MR BONNEFOY?" but his voice, which was naturally quiet, was lost under the roaring of the water. So Matthew switched to mist and floated up to the top of it, and reformed perched on the side. From there, he stuck out his hand and stopped all the water in its tracks. The waterfall was in mid-fall, not moving, not doing anything.

Matthew smiled- that was much more peaceful. He called out again, "Mr Bonnefoy?" This time, he was much easier to hear.

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Francis Bonnefoy

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PostSubject: Re: A Push In The Right Direction [Mathieu]   Tue Aug 16, 2011 9:44 pm

Francis blinked, halfway through a sip of his wine when he felt a small shift--and the next thing he knew, the waterfall mere meters away from his cove had paused in mid-air. Hmm. Mathieu remembered that workshop last year, apparently, and the Frenchman found himself feeling rather pleased.

Now, if only Mathieu would bother applying the same dedication to his studies... Ah, but that wasn't fair, was it? While sloppy, the young nymph had improved since he'd first ventured into his classroom: wide-eyed and unsure of what he'd signed up for, and bowed by the workload to the point where Francis could almost taste Mathieu's tangible dread of coming to his classes. Which was somewhat disappointing. He did not follow the rulebook to the 'T' (or really, at all), and he made sure to make his lectures as innovative and interesting as he could. To know that own of his favourite (he wasn't even going to deny it) students (in swimming, he outshone a good number of the other creatures of water--an impressive feat on its own) found his lessons unbearable was a tad disheartening, and Francis intended to know what, exactly, was keeping Mathieu so behind.

At least, behind to the point where Francis was wary of whether Mathieu would begin to flourish for the second half of his class, this Autumn. Environmental Science was not a required course (always to his chagrin), so why did the nymph decide to struggle for months as opposed to taking a course more his liking? (As much as Francis hated to admit it, Art and Music were the essence of entertainment; if he hadn't been so hot-blooded (ha, ha) about his subject of choice, he would most certainly go out of his way to involve himself more in his choral and painting labs.)

Might as well get a few answers, now. At best, he'd learn the best manner in which to adjust his teaching style, and gain insight to the young man's psyche. At worst, he'd have to accept that perhaps Mathieu was one of the students he'd have to let go. That was enough of a sacrifice. There was no point in languishing in a subject one abhorred (unfortunately) if there were other prospects, far beyond the scope of biological science.

Calmly, he set down the glass and called out, half-amused and half-pensive, "I am in 'ere, my dear. You can kindly let the lovely falls go back to z'eir business, maintenant."
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