Office Hours, Tuesday

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell wasn't sulking, or hiding. Nothing so pedestrian as that.

He was being avoidant. Avoidant of people, avoidant of his memories, avoidant of the fact he was riding a high buzz on the blood currently still flowing through his system. He knew the come down was going to be horrifically bad this time, but not for another day or two.

Right now he was the safest he could be, even though everyone was back to smelling like food and--

What he really needed was a distraction.

So Mitchell was back in his office. Poking through TV channels.

[[ open. there shall be no biting today ]]

Comments

[chosehumanity]

Luckily, the guy on the inside was a vampire, and his head perked up. "Come on in," he called.

[[ brought to you by Len's inability to let an opening ping go unanswered. niiight ]]

[thatsamilkshake]

But she'd so much rather stand awkwardly in the doorway!

"Um. Hi, Professor Mitchell."

Dude. You brought it on yourself.

[chosehumanity]

The edges of his mouth curled up. "Hi, Francine," Mitchell replied. At least he could try and insert some comfortable cheer into his voice? "Come on! Take a seat."

[thatsamilkshake]

"I wasn't..." Going to stay, she was going to blab something about not having intended that message for him and then flee back to the safety of bunnyland.

So. Seat. "Okay. But I just wanted to, you know. Apologize for you getting that message. It was supposed to go to Castiel."

[chosehumanity]

"It's fine, Francine. It was sort of a relief in between obscene misdirected phone calls."

Pause. He smiled at her.

"But if you're concerned about that kind of thing, you know you can talk to us, right? It doesn't have to be me. Anyone in the faculty."

Why, look, that smiling and sounding nice thing wasn't lost to him after all.

[thatsamilkshake]

"I'm not!" Mmm, reflexive defense, the Other White Lie. "I mean... it's not like I was trying to call Castiel to ask about that. He left me a weird message about--" Yeah, she was not repeating that to a teacher. "How the angels don't care if humans like furry handcuffs or something."

Yes, because that was so much better.

[chosehumanity]

"So you decided to call him back and tell him you were worried about how God feels about homosexuality instead?"

Dubious was too harsh a term, but there was a certain amount of no, really involved.

"...But this isn't an interrogation," he said, holding his hands up, "I thought I'd just extend the invite."

[thatsamilkshake]

Flail, dissemble. Flail, dissemble. Difficult decisions tend to make badgers of very little brain fall back on option C, the blurt. "Well, the Bible doesn't say anything about furry handcuffs, but it does say stuff about that."

[chosehumanity]

He leaned back in his seat. Of course, she'd come down in this week of all weeks, the one in which he'd rather go home to George's and get drunk on his couch for the next decade, after which George would be a neurotic 30-something and he'd still be, perpetually, 25.

... But those were his own issues. Get yourself together, Mitchell.

He might have made a better argument, though, if it had been Another Week. "That depends on who you listen to." ... well, it helped he was used to badgers of significant brains but significant neuroses.

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine shrugged one shoulder. "Our pastor back home? My mom?"

[chosehumanity]

"And what do they say?" Mitchell asked, raising his eyebrows. "Women who lie with women will suffer, that kind of thing? Because I'm not Castiel, but I'm sure I never saw that in a bible."

Back when he could still touch them. Ah, memories. (Of course, childhood memories and ideas were a little different from the way he thought about it now)

[thatsamilkshake]

"Um." There might only be one letter between blurt and blunt, but it was DIFFERENT when other people did it. "Not exactly that specific, but that was the general idea."

[chosehumanity]

"I was trying not to specify too much," Mitchell said, shrugging a bit. It'd been the 19th century when he'd learned about all this, after all. "You know there's gay churches, right?" he asked, "Do you think they think they're an abomination to God?"

[thatsamilkshake]

"...There's gay churches?" So that would be a no.

Also a Francine momentarily picturing Our Lady Of Fandom trying to make out with another church, which was just disturbing and not what he meant.

[chosehumanity]

"I think there's even a website. Gaychurch dot something or other." Mitchell shrugged.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Huh." Yes, she'd be looking that up. Not that it really solved the question of whether they were right or whether that even mattered when your family had other opinions, but it was... something. "But.... I mean, Castiel's an angel. I guess just I figured if anybody knew what God really wants, he ought to."

Which totally explained why she'd followed up the wrong number by actually talking to him about it. Oh, wait. Also, shut up.

[chosehumanity]

"Probably," Mitchell allowed. He'd only spoken to Castiel the once, and quite frankly, he didn't want to repeat the experience and burst into flame or something. "But take it from an old man. I really doubt God cares. It's a miracle enough when people manage to find out who they are before they run out of time. I don't see why anyone should be denied the opportunity to embrace it. It gets lonely when you're lost on the fringes by yourself."

[thatsamilkshake]

That -- run out of time -- sent a string of bubbles (they weren't really, just wisps of images and sounds, but she had to make sense of them somehow) through the space in Francine's head, sharp enough to make her close her eyes. Some of them, she'd seen before. The ones she hadn't, she could have lived without seeing ever.

"I'm not by myself," she said when she opened her eyes again. Thank God. Which was an odd thought considering the conversation, or maybe it wasn't at all. "And...you're not old! How are you old?"

[chosehumanity]

"I'm older than you," Mitchell pointed out, smiling a little. "Us teachers have to get our credentials somehow." It was a miracle how secrets like 'I'm a hundred years old' wound up sustained on this island. Maybe his was some kind of record.

"But that's good," he said. "You should never let anyone's outdated ideas about religion get in the way of that." He was assuming the worry about lesbian... things probably came from something concrete.

...Although he hoped she didn't mean she had a boyfriend. That would make this slightly awkward. (Not that he was going to be George about it)

"The scope of it, of faith is a lot broader than most seem convinced it is."

[thatsamilkshake]

She had a kind of really really gay ex-boyfriend. Did that count? "This place makes me think everything is, sometimes." Which was... mostly a good thing, though that meant it made life more confusing too.

[chosehumanity]

Not really, no. "It is," Mitchell agreed, "And that means there are some scary things. But also a lot of good."