Post by Beau Halloran on Nov 24, 2010 20:30:44 GMT -5
Several days before the actual class was to take place, flyers had appeared around the school. The papers were simple, with the date and time the class was happening listed, along with the location, which was different than usual, considering the Tower -- the usual spot for Astronomy -- was more or less destroyed. All years are welcome, stated the flyer. There will be coffee.
Beau Halloran was on the dueling field by eleven that night, and had the class set up by eleven-thirty. Chairs had been moved to the field, and arranged in a horseshoe shape, with him standing at the gap. Behind him stood a table on which a full coffeepot sat, along with coffee mugs. Creamers and sugar made a small pile to the end of the table, for those who did not prefer their coffee black.
The professor himself drank only water; as the night sky was his life, he'd long since adjusted his sleep schedule so that staying up all night was never a problem. His hair was straight and tangle-free, albeit somewhat shaggy, and the robes he wore were neat, but simple, all black and ironed as smooth as his stubble-free jaw. The man did not see much of other people, due to his occupation, but when he did he believed in professional dress and grooming.
Slate blue eyes canvassed his makeshift classroom, making sure everything was in order. Class was scheduled to begin at midnight, and as it was his first official lesson, he might go lenient on late-comers, but it was his hope students would begin arriving soon.
It came to him quite suddenly that although the flyers he'd posted had listed the location, it was in truth quite dark out and his class could become lost among the dusk of the night. A wave of his wand, and foot-tall, glimmering stars shot out, lighting a path from his set-up all the way to the actual school. One final one hovered over the ring of chairs, bobbing softly in place like some mini Star of Bethlehem, and Beau nodded, satisfied.
As soon as students showed up, he would begin the lesson.
Beau Halloran was on the dueling field by eleven that night, and had the class set up by eleven-thirty. Chairs had been moved to the field, and arranged in a horseshoe shape, with him standing at the gap. Behind him stood a table on which a full coffeepot sat, along with coffee mugs. Creamers and sugar made a small pile to the end of the table, for those who did not prefer their coffee black.
The professor himself drank only water; as the night sky was his life, he'd long since adjusted his sleep schedule so that staying up all night was never a problem. His hair was straight and tangle-free, albeit somewhat shaggy, and the robes he wore were neat, but simple, all black and ironed as smooth as his stubble-free jaw. The man did not see much of other people, due to his occupation, but when he did he believed in professional dress and grooming.
Slate blue eyes canvassed his makeshift classroom, making sure everything was in order. Class was scheduled to begin at midnight, and as it was his first official lesson, he might go lenient on late-comers, but it was his hope students would begin arriving soon.
It came to him quite suddenly that although the flyers he'd posted had listed the location, it was in truth quite dark out and his class could become lost among the dusk of the night. A wave of his wand, and foot-tall, glimmering stars shot out, lighting a path from his set-up all the way to the actual school. One final one hovered over the ring of chairs, bobbing softly in place like some mini Star of Bethlehem, and Beau nodded, satisfied.
As soon as students showed up, he would begin the lesson.