[Julio and Farouk] - Plotting
Jul. 9th, 2007 01:36 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJulio meets the Honorable Professor in order to talk about his coursework for the following year. Farouk hints ominously at his plans, and Julio decides on an experiment in psychology.
Julio felt like he was treading into Forbidden Territory. The offices of the teaching staff of Xavier's did have occupants during the summer term, but Julio felt that as long as he was out of school he would not darken a classroom or a teacher's office. Unfortunately the nutty professor wanted to meet with him, so he was in one of the few places he swore he would never venture into. Raising one hand, he knocked on the door.
You MUST be joking... Farouk thought with what, remarkably was far more astonishment than berserker rage. He clamped his teeth on his cigar, his hand gripping the top of the ladder with a bit more force than was strictly necessary, and raised his eyes heavenward in an appreciative nod. Good one.
Still keeping his teeth-grip on the remnant of the cancer death machine which he apparently was destined never to enjoy in peace, he managed to raise his voice without dropping the cigar with the ease of long and diligent practice. "Trotsky!"
Predictably, Esteban's steps - somehow managing to convey his disdain at the unnecessary shriek - were already approaching the door. Farouk mused, not for the first time, that having a man-servant was as much bother as it was help.
It would be days, at least, before Esteban stopped pouting that Amahl forbade him from taking over the unpacking and sorting of books that has just arrived (with the immediate effect of throwing Farouk's schedule into complete standstill as he wasted days trying to shelve and order them, in between reading breaks).
He shifted the cigar from one corner of his mouth to the next and glanced measuringly at the floor. Or rather in the direction of where he dimly remembered his floor being at some point. Logic argued that it was still there, somewhere, under the boxes, old newspapers and book piles.
He sniffed. Due to a slight tactical miscalculation, he was now separated from the nearest pile by an aforementioned detritus. And the ladder's height. He wiggled his bare toes as he considered the problem.
He really didn't want to climb back down. His dexterity made that task a highly dodgy proposition within a risk-vs-reward matrix. Or, to put it another way, he didn't really feel like getting a concussion today.
And Esteban certainly wouldn't help him, enjoying his magnificent snit as he was.
Conundrum.
A youthful voice carried from the hall and Farouk raised his glasses into his hairline, thoughtfully.
Who could... Ah!
He brightened.
Students. Children. Flowers of the future. Potential incarnate.
Free, imminently exploitable labor!
Julio blinked when a man who most certainly not the honorable professor opened the door. There was a distinct lack of mustache for one.
No, the honorable professor, he saw - as the man who met him at the door escorted him into the living room - was perched on a ladder, surrounded by piles of books.
Julio tilted his head at the mess surrounding them. He raised his eyes to the barefoot man tottering precariously next to his shelf. "Uh, is this a bad time?" Julio pointed behind him. "Because I can come back?" When school starts.
"Oh, no." Farouk smiled toothily around his cigar, "by all means. Do come in. Julio, correct? Coffee? Tea? Esteban see to it, please." He waved his hand imperiously in the vague direction of both youths. "Could you grab that box for me, Mr. Richter? The red one?"
The key is to keep them on the run. That's the ticket. Shock and awe.
The boy looked over at the box. He knew he had two options, pick up the box and bring it over to the crazy-looking man, and quite possibly end up drafted into an afternoon of heavy labor. Or dive out the nearest window. The two thoughts warred with each other before Julio shrugged and picked up the box. It wouldn't kill him, and it would give him time to devise a better escape route if necessary.
"Where do you want this?" He said, shifting the weight of the books so he wouldn't drop the box.
Farouk caught the brief furtive glance the boy threw toward the window and snorted in his mind, as the kid sighed and picked up the box, apprehensive resignation flickering in his eyes.
Think of it as the first lesson, my boy. Always go with your instincts. Especially when they point you in the direction of less manual labor.
"Right here, by the ladder would be fine. Thank you." He squinted. "I think we shall start with Gibbon - that's the leather-bound volumes right there. See? Yes, the brown ones."
Farouk puffed on his cigar contentedly. He absentmindedly caressed the book's spine before shelving it and cocked his eyebrow at the student below him, his glasses rising above his eyes, accentuating the gesture.
"So, we might as well get started, I suppose, yes? What peaked your interest in Middle Eastern history course, exactly, Mr. Richter?"
"Uh--" Julio fished for the books Farouk had pointed to, before handing them up. "I am from Mexico, yes? But we have very little Latin American language or history courses. This saddens me. We have a great deal of courses in Arabic and now Middle Eastern history. I feel I should know about it to see what the big deal is. You cannot denounce something unless you know it properly." Julio handed Farouk another leather-bound volume. Kyle was going to be so whiny when he came back smelling like cigar smoke. So perhaps the afternoon wouldn't be a complete wash.
"Hm." Amahl turned the book over in his hands, tapping it thoughtfully. "I see you put much thought into your education. Commendable. But let us try to narrow down the filed slightly, yes? Is there something specific you are interesting in denouncing? Or is it more of a broad-based hobby?"
Julio very nearly said "All of it" but refrained. This man would be in charge of his grade at some point. "Hmmm. Perhaps when Islam started conquering the infidels? The Moors did invade Spain. That way, I can get religion and history both in one denouncement."
"Quite efficient, I'm sure" Farouk chewed on his cigar, looking at Julio speculatively. 17 year old self-righteous prig, unique just like all his friends, with a chip on his shoulder the size of Canada and the unshakeable surety that he has seen it all, knows it all and the rest of the world is full of poor benighted morons whose only hope for salvation is Himself, if only they'd recognize that obvious fact. Viva la Revolution and the girls it gets him! Ah, yes.
He fought down a smile. Some things, it seemed, transcended ethnicity and citizenship. The world be such a boring place without budding college freshmen.
"The Conquest, yes. Quite a popular topic. I would have no objection to structuring a course around it. Are you taking any concurrent history or theology courses? Comparative religion class would be quite helpful - this era saw a considerable variety of faiths coexisting in Western Mediterranean; including a number of sects and splinter movements within Christianity, Islam and Judaism."
Farouk paused suddenly, bringing short his semi-developing ideas on scheduling and texts to assign. Smoothing out his mustache, he squinted at the student. "Ahem. I assume you have some basic grounding in European history, yes? Ancient world? Fall of Roman Empire?"
He thought back at his experience speaking to Munroe. He was still having trouble believing they allowed that hack to teach history to children. The damage might never be undone!
A sharp, familiar smell made him turn around and Amahl nodded in satisfaction "Ah! Here's Esteban with your coffee and..."
We have cookies? Since when do we have cookies?! He silently swore swift, merciless, terrible and awesome retribution for the fact that this data was concealed from him, and motioned for Julio to help himself as Esteban disappeared again. Truly, Trotsky was beginning to exact his revenge in petty ways.
"I am taking Western Civ, yes." Julio said, he accepted his drink from the man's butler, and did a double-take when the man winked at him before disappearing. He briefly looked confused before shrugging it off. "And World Religions, but that is through correspondence."
Julio briefly wondered if this man realized that he was going to be teaching on a high school level. Then Julio wondered if he himself realized just what he was getting into. However, then he realized that telling his father that he was taking a college-level course would get the old man to shut up about the C he sent home in Algebra 2. Never had he been so glad that there was a warrant out for the old man's arrest in the United States than during that phonecall of Fun.
He's taking Western Civ… Allah the Merciful, the Lovingkind, the Most Beneficent look upon me with generous eyes.
Farouk sat down on the top step of the ladder, his feet dangling. He pulled down the glasses and gave Julio a long, considering look drawing the moment out.
"Mr. Richter, what we are talking about is a semester long course of independent study on a subject with which you have only the barest of familiarity. This is an individualized program which means you will have no other students with whom you can confer when -not if - you encounter a difficulty. This is a college prep course, which means it will be as much about teaching you to undertake independent research and composing papers, as it will be about the subject itself. And yes…"
Farouk waved dismissively, the cigar trailing pungent smoke, "I realize that you have been covering these topics in you English and Literature courses. Believe me Mr. Richter - you are starting from scratch. There will be a text assigned every week and you will have to submit a brief paper on them. In addition there will be two midterms and a final exam consisting of a 20-page paper."
Amahl stuck the cigar back between his teeth and grinned at Julio. The smile went up all the way to his kindly brown eyes and then quietly shriveled up and died.
"In effect, Mr. Richter," Farouk's smile widened, turning his face into something that really should have had tentacles, "what taking my course means is that you are signing you soul over to me and bid gentle adieu to any thoughts of having social life during the wonderful debauch known as your senior year."
He reached for the stub and put it out, viciously grounding it into the ladder's step, never taking his eyes off Julio's face, and fondly envisioning Esteban's reaction when he saw the mark.
He let the pause stretch, before shrugging slightly. "As a slight recompense you will have a slight inkling of what the freshman year of college is really like and…" He drawled out the word, enjoying the hint of sickly, greenish paleness that was creeping into the kid's tan countenance. "If, I say if, you really impress me, I might write you a recommendation letter."
He waggled the now dead cigar, nodding modestly. "I am not without friends in the academic community, you might say."
The key to bargaining, he always felt, was to prepare the ground so any proposition was win-win.
Either the kid would voluntarily make a terrible mistake and let his pride lead him into the insatiate maw of hell Amahl always enjoyed putting his students through.
Or he would bolt and leave Farouk that much more time to concentrate on his real reason for coming to the US.
Which reminded him - he really should get to scheduling a meeting with this Grey woman.
"Well?" He smoothed out his moustache slowly, with his thumb and forefinger. "It's your future, Mr. Richter. And the decision is yours, as well. Welcome to the adulthood."
The first thing Julio was struck by was the man's arrogance. A part of him wanted to drop the volume on the floor, spin on his heel and walk out. He'd had enough experience with men who thought that they were better than others for whatever strange reasons, be it their DNA or their facial hair, to last him a lifetime. But Julio also realized he had a unique opportunity here. He would probably kick himself for it during the school year, but he was curious. This was the closest he'd probably get to melaglomania for a while. Call it an exercise in psychology.
He turned the text over in his hands, before holding it up.
"Where do you want this?"
Julio felt like he was treading into Forbidden Territory. The offices of the teaching staff of Xavier's did have occupants during the summer term, but Julio felt that as long as he was out of school he would not darken a classroom or a teacher's office. Unfortunately the nutty professor wanted to meet with him, so he was in one of the few places he swore he would never venture into. Raising one hand, he knocked on the door.
You MUST be joking... Farouk thought with what, remarkably was far more astonishment than berserker rage. He clamped his teeth on his cigar, his hand gripping the top of the ladder with a bit more force than was strictly necessary, and raised his eyes heavenward in an appreciative nod. Good one.
Still keeping his teeth-grip on the remnant of the cancer death machine which he apparently was destined never to enjoy in peace, he managed to raise his voice without dropping the cigar with the ease of long and diligent practice. "Trotsky!"
Predictably, Esteban's steps - somehow managing to convey his disdain at the unnecessary shriek - were already approaching the door. Farouk mused, not for the first time, that having a man-servant was as much bother as it was help.
It would be days, at least, before Esteban stopped pouting that Amahl forbade him from taking over the unpacking and sorting of books that has just arrived (with the immediate effect of throwing Farouk's schedule into complete standstill as he wasted days trying to shelve and order them, in between reading breaks).
He shifted the cigar from one corner of his mouth to the next and glanced measuringly at the floor. Or rather in the direction of where he dimly remembered his floor being at some point. Logic argued that it was still there, somewhere, under the boxes, old newspapers and book piles.
He sniffed. Due to a slight tactical miscalculation, he was now separated from the nearest pile by an aforementioned detritus. And the ladder's height. He wiggled his bare toes as he considered the problem.
He really didn't want to climb back down. His dexterity made that task a highly dodgy proposition within a risk-vs-reward matrix. Or, to put it another way, he didn't really feel like getting a concussion today.
And Esteban certainly wouldn't help him, enjoying his magnificent snit as he was.
Conundrum.
A youthful voice carried from the hall and Farouk raised his glasses into his hairline, thoughtfully.
Who could... Ah!
He brightened.
Students. Children. Flowers of the future. Potential incarnate.
Free, imminently exploitable labor!
Julio blinked when a man who most certainly not the honorable professor opened the door. There was a distinct lack of mustache for one.
No, the honorable professor, he saw - as the man who met him at the door escorted him into the living room - was perched on a ladder, surrounded by piles of books.
Julio tilted his head at the mess surrounding them. He raised his eyes to the barefoot man tottering precariously next to his shelf. "Uh, is this a bad time?" Julio pointed behind him. "Because I can come back?" When school starts.
"Oh, no." Farouk smiled toothily around his cigar, "by all means. Do come in. Julio, correct? Coffee? Tea? Esteban see to it, please." He waved his hand imperiously in the vague direction of both youths. "Could you grab that box for me, Mr. Richter? The red one?"
The key is to keep them on the run. That's the ticket. Shock and awe.
The boy looked over at the box. He knew he had two options, pick up the box and bring it over to the crazy-looking man, and quite possibly end up drafted into an afternoon of heavy labor. Or dive out the nearest window. The two thoughts warred with each other before Julio shrugged and picked up the box. It wouldn't kill him, and it would give him time to devise a better escape route if necessary.
"Where do you want this?" He said, shifting the weight of the books so he wouldn't drop the box.
Farouk caught the brief furtive glance the boy threw toward the window and snorted in his mind, as the kid sighed and picked up the box, apprehensive resignation flickering in his eyes.
Think of it as the first lesson, my boy. Always go with your instincts. Especially when they point you in the direction of less manual labor.
"Right here, by the ladder would be fine. Thank you." He squinted. "I think we shall start with Gibbon - that's the leather-bound volumes right there. See? Yes, the brown ones."
Farouk puffed on his cigar contentedly. He absentmindedly caressed the book's spine before shelving it and cocked his eyebrow at the student below him, his glasses rising above his eyes, accentuating the gesture.
"So, we might as well get started, I suppose, yes? What peaked your interest in Middle Eastern history course, exactly, Mr. Richter?"
"Uh--" Julio fished for the books Farouk had pointed to, before handing them up. "I am from Mexico, yes? But we have very little Latin American language or history courses. This saddens me. We have a great deal of courses in Arabic and now Middle Eastern history. I feel I should know about it to see what the big deal is. You cannot denounce something unless you know it properly." Julio handed Farouk another leather-bound volume. Kyle was going to be so whiny when he came back smelling like cigar smoke. So perhaps the afternoon wouldn't be a complete wash.
"Hm." Amahl turned the book over in his hands, tapping it thoughtfully. "I see you put much thought into your education. Commendable. But let us try to narrow down the filed slightly, yes? Is there something specific you are interesting in denouncing? Or is it more of a broad-based hobby?"
Julio very nearly said "All of it" but refrained. This man would be in charge of his grade at some point. "Hmmm. Perhaps when Islam started conquering the infidels? The Moors did invade Spain. That way, I can get religion and history both in one denouncement."
"Quite efficient, I'm sure" Farouk chewed on his cigar, looking at Julio speculatively. 17 year old self-righteous prig, unique just like all his friends, with a chip on his shoulder the size of Canada and the unshakeable surety that he has seen it all, knows it all and the rest of the world is full of poor benighted morons whose only hope for salvation is Himself, if only they'd recognize that obvious fact. Viva la Revolution and the girls it gets him! Ah, yes.
He fought down a smile. Some things, it seemed, transcended ethnicity and citizenship. The world be such a boring place without budding college freshmen.
"The Conquest, yes. Quite a popular topic. I would have no objection to structuring a course around it. Are you taking any concurrent history or theology courses? Comparative religion class would be quite helpful - this era saw a considerable variety of faiths coexisting in Western Mediterranean; including a number of sects and splinter movements within Christianity, Islam and Judaism."
Farouk paused suddenly, bringing short his semi-developing ideas on scheduling and texts to assign. Smoothing out his mustache, he squinted at the student. "Ahem. I assume you have some basic grounding in European history, yes? Ancient world? Fall of Roman Empire?"
He thought back at his experience speaking to Munroe. He was still having trouble believing they allowed that hack to teach history to children. The damage might never be undone!
A sharp, familiar smell made him turn around and Amahl nodded in satisfaction "Ah! Here's Esteban with your coffee and..."
We have cookies? Since when do we have cookies?! He silently swore swift, merciless, terrible and awesome retribution for the fact that this data was concealed from him, and motioned for Julio to help himself as Esteban disappeared again. Truly, Trotsky was beginning to exact his revenge in petty ways.
"I am taking Western Civ, yes." Julio said, he accepted his drink from the man's butler, and did a double-take when the man winked at him before disappearing. He briefly looked confused before shrugging it off. "And World Religions, but that is through correspondence."
Julio briefly wondered if this man realized that he was going to be teaching on a high school level. Then Julio wondered if he himself realized just what he was getting into. However, then he realized that telling his father that he was taking a college-level course would get the old man to shut up about the C he sent home in Algebra 2. Never had he been so glad that there was a warrant out for the old man's arrest in the United States than during that phonecall of Fun.
He's taking Western Civ… Allah the Merciful, the Lovingkind, the Most Beneficent look upon me with generous eyes.
Farouk sat down on the top step of the ladder, his feet dangling. He pulled down the glasses and gave Julio a long, considering look drawing the moment out.
"Mr. Richter, what we are talking about is a semester long course of independent study on a subject with which you have only the barest of familiarity. This is an individualized program which means you will have no other students with whom you can confer when -not if - you encounter a difficulty. This is a college prep course, which means it will be as much about teaching you to undertake independent research and composing papers, as it will be about the subject itself. And yes…"
Farouk waved dismissively, the cigar trailing pungent smoke, "I realize that you have been covering these topics in you English and Literature courses. Believe me Mr. Richter - you are starting from scratch. There will be a text assigned every week and you will have to submit a brief paper on them. In addition there will be two midterms and a final exam consisting of a 20-page paper."
Amahl stuck the cigar back between his teeth and grinned at Julio. The smile went up all the way to his kindly brown eyes and then quietly shriveled up and died.
"In effect, Mr. Richter," Farouk's smile widened, turning his face into something that really should have had tentacles, "what taking my course means is that you are signing you soul over to me and bid gentle adieu to any thoughts of having social life during the wonderful debauch known as your senior year."
He reached for the stub and put it out, viciously grounding it into the ladder's step, never taking his eyes off Julio's face, and fondly envisioning Esteban's reaction when he saw the mark.
He let the pause stretch, before shrugging slightly. "As a slight recompense you will have a slight inkling of what the freshman year of college is really like and…" He drawled out the word, enjoying the hint of sickly, greenish paleness that was creeping into the kid's tan countenance. "If, I say if, you really impress me, I might write you a recommendation letter."
He waggled the now dead cigar, nodding modestly. "I am not without friends in the academic community, you might say."
The key to bargaining, he always felt, was to prepare the ground so any proposition was win-win.
Either the kid would voluntarily make a terrible mistake and let his pride lead him into the insatiate maw of hell Amahl always enjoyed putting his students through.
Or he would bolt and leave Farouk that much more time to concentrate on his real reason for coming to the US.
Which reminded him - he really should get to scheduling a meeting with this Grey woman.
"Well?" He smoothed out his moustache slowly, with his thumb and forefinger. "It's your future, Mr. Richter. And the decision is yours, as well. Welcome to the adulthood."
The first thing Julio was struck by was the man's arrogance. A part of him wanted to drop the volume on the floor, spin on his heel and walk out. He'd had enough experience with men who thought that they were better than others for whatever strange reasons, be it their DNA or their facial hair, to last him a lifetime. But Julio also realized he had a unique opportunity here. He would probably kick himself for it during the school year, but he was curious. This was the closest he'd probably get to melaglomania for a while. Call it an exercise in psychology.
He turned the text over in his hands, before holding it up.
"Where do you want this?"
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-09 08:53 pm (UTC)Speaking of hacks.... ;)
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Date: 2007-07-09 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-09 09:01 pm (UTC)