Michael Grosvenor
June 25, 2011 5:08 AM
Outside Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce's Office by Michael Grosvenor
It had taken Michael some time to come the decision to speak to Coach Pierce. In fact, it was the day before their second flying lesson by the time he got the nerve to go and speak to her. He didn't want to be different. He didn't want to need extra help or special measures put in place just for him. Much less did he want to be the one to initiate a conversation about that and be the one to make it happen. He'd been doing such a good job of pretending to be normal – and not just pretending, genuinely coping and being functional without anyone having to know or make allowances for him - and this felt like he was giving a little bit of that up. However, flying was dangerous territory as far as being able to successfully obfuscate his hearing impairment went, and he figured that an excruciating conversation with the coach was the lesser of two evils when compared to his peers finding out.After some accidental exploration of the school, Michael had found what he was looking for. Well, he had been – in his head – looking for Coach Pierce's office. What he had found was Deputy Headmistress Pierce's office. That presented him with a slight dilemma as to how he was supposed to address her. He knocked and opened the door when he thought he heard an invitation to do so.
“Hello... do I call you Coach or Deputy Headmistress Pierce?” he asked, figuring just asking her was the best strategy, rather than trying to fudge his way through calling her both at once. “It's about flying lessons,” he added, in case that made a difference. Maybe she was Coach for flying-related issues and Deputy Headmistress for other things.
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Michael Grosvenor
Outside Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce's Office
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Michael Grosvenor
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Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce
June 26, 2011 9:48 AM
Inside Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce's Office by Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce
She was reviewing what the beginner first years would be doing in flying lessons tomorrow (most years she just kept to the same lesson plans without alteration, but this year's batch seemed to have more kids having trouble with the hover than most years did so she was considering slowing things down a little more) when a knock sounded on her door. She called out an invitation to enter, and then put aside her class plans as the door opened an the boy who had been working with the girl who had fallen in the first class came inside.She tried to remember his name but all she came up with was M-Something-Common (Matthew, or Michael, or Mark, most likely). She was reasonably sure his surname was Grosvenor, though. She was better with last names than first names, and she blamed being raised by the New Hampshire Pierces for this.
Unlike that branch of her family, she did not consider Grosvenor any lesser than Carey, and she gave him an encouraging smile as she indicated with a gesture that he should take a seat in the chair opposite her desk.
"Coach Pierce is fine," she offered when he expressed confusion on which title he ought to use. That was the one she was sure she'd remember to answer to. "What did you need to know about flying lessons, Mr. Grosvenor?"
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Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce
Inside Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce's Office
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Coach-Deputy-Headmistress-Professor Pierce
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Mr. Grosvenor
June 26, 2011 11:01 AM
Remember me when you're the one who's silver screened by Mr. Grosvenor
“Thank you,” Michael said, as he was invited to come in and take a seat. So, she was to be Coach Pierce. And apparently he was Mr. Grosvenor. It made him feel slightly self-conscious that she knew his name. Perhaps she'd been told about him. Of course, he had already attended one of her classes in which she'd taken a register, so it might just be that she had a good memory. He decided to tell himself that it was the latter, even though the former was most likely also true. Even if it was to say he needed no real support, he was fairly sure the school would have been informed about him.What he wanted to know about flying lessons was a slightly difficult question to answer. He'd practised what he was going to say in his head over and over again. And now she'd slightly thrown him because he didn't really want to know anything. He needed to tell her something. He decided to just ignore what she'd said and explain things as he'd planned to before. In all probability, she didn't really care if actually answered her question, it was more an invitation to begin talking anyway.
“I don't know if you were told about me before I got here,” he told the area of her desk that was just in front of him. “But I have a hearing impairment. It's mostly fine and I don't need any extra help in classes,” his eyes briefly flicked up to the coach's face as if to verify that she wasn't going to dispute that point. “But flying's a bit.... different,” he told the desk, twisting his fingers in increasingly intricate knots on his lap, “I wear hearing aids but I found I had to switch them off in your class because if I go at anything above walking speed the wind noise is just too much – it drowns out everything else anyway and it's just unpleasant to listen to. I can lipread to a certain degree if I'm near enough to see you, and the whistle you use if pretty loud so I might hear it because I hear really loud sounds the same as everyone else,” he explained, attempting to dispel the common misconception that everything he heard was quieter. Sounds were damaged within an affected range. Outside of that, they were the same as for everyone else, which was why being shouted out was annoying. It just hurt “but I might not. So, I was wondering if you could use some sparks or something from your wand at the same time as the whistle. I've got good peripheral vision and I'm used to picking up visual signals to make up for things that I don't hear.” This wasn't the first time Michael had had to explain to someone what things were like for him and what he needed them to do, so he could sound reasonably calm and could articulate his thoughts about the matter with clarity but that didn't make it a pleasant conversation for him to have. “And if we're doing some kind of activity, can you not pick on me to go first? Cos I might have understood everything you've said but if I haven't, I'll figure out what we're doing by watching the others and then-” - then they won't know. Then I won't stand out. Then I won't be picked on. He wished he hadn't begun that sentence, “then we'll be good,” he finished a little lamely.
(OOC - I know he's not done a lot of flying in the class yet, but he will be once he works out how to go forward :-p)
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Mr. Grosvenor
Remember me when you're the one who's silver screened
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Mr. Grosvenor
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