Office Hours

[amoralsuperego]

[has decided to offer office hours twice a week for any students interested in seeking out extra help with German--or for students struggling with the assignments he's been handing out in his culture-studies class on Gerhard Richter.  settled into the chair at his desk, he thumbs through a book and waits for someone to arrive]

Comments

[amongmycabbages]

[It's after hours, and Veidt is on his way out of the school. As he passes Muller's office, he slows, and stops... What was that noise?

He walks over to the door, and listens for a moment, then puts his hand to the doorknob, turning it as silently as he can. He pushes the door open, enough to catch a glimpse of the whiteboard and Muller's desk in front of it.

His eyes go wide, then narrow to a thin line.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Veidt is through the door, and moving.]

[amoralsuperego]

[looks up in time to see Veidt fling the door open. reflexively takes a step away from Nelly, but aside from that, he does nothing to shrink from Veidt's oncoming motion]

[amongmycabbages]

[Veidt sees Muller step away from Nelly and knows he's lost the element of surprise, but does not halt his onward rush. At the last moment, just as he's about to crash into Muller, he swerves and ducks down, hooking the other man's leg so that he's thrown off balance and into the whiteboard.]

[amoralsuperego]

[crashes back into the whiteboard, but not before snagging the collar of Veidt's shirt and dragging him down into the fall]

[amongmycabbages]

[Veidt ducks down, under Muller's arm, and twists, using the momentum to turn Muller face-first into the whiteboard. At the same time, he seizes the other man's arm and twists it up behind him, in a profoundly uncomfortable position. His grip is like iron, and if Muller moves in the wrong way, his elbow is likely to be dislocated.]

[hissing] Explain this. Now.

[amoralsuperego]

[grunts, poised on the balls of his feet. exhales slowly through his teeth, and the sound turns into a low, grumbling chuckle]

I don't believe the situation needs any explanation.

[amongmycabbages]

[Veidt's eyes narrow, and his voice is deceptively calm.]

Abusing a student? I disagree. I repeat. Explain yourself.

[He jerks Muller's arm up once, just enough to emphasize his point.]

[amoralsuperego]

[hisses, but does not relent]

By all means, break something, Veidt--[a wince]--if cat and mouse games are what you're after. As I said, there's nothing to explain.

[amongmycabbages]

Cat and mouse games? [A low, dark chuckle.] You have no idea, you stupid little man.

[Veidt's accent is starting to slip into German, and he's uncomfortably aware of how much he's lowered himself to Muller's level, so with a quick motion he frees Muller's arm and steps back, out of reach. He's still tense, balanced, ready for further action, and his voice is a low, dangerous, predatory growl, as he switches to German for extra emphasis.]

Since you feel no need to explain, I will explain the situation to you, in terms you can understand. Your future hangs by a thread right now. Not the rest of today, or this week, or even your tenure at this school. I'm speaking of the rest of your benighted existence upon this earth.

[Veidt's voice is velvet, underlaid with steel.] I have resources you cannot even imagine, and I will be watching you. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, anywhere, I will make you wish you had never crawled out from under the rock that birthed you. Am I clear?

[amoralsuperego]

[winces, shaking out his arm and flexing his hand]

[he turns to face Veidt, studying the man for a moment before meeting his eyes with his own flat, direct gaze. Müller doesn't doubt any of what Veidt is saying, and is certainly not arrogant or stupid enough to challenge him on it. and then a recognition of Veidt's particular tonality (cold, arrogant, intelligent, and controlled) hits him]

[leering (and in German):] Astoundingly, Veidt.

[pauses, appraising the other man again before continuing with a much cooler, more pointed tone] I know you--I'm certain of it. And if I am correct, then your hypocrisy is astounding. And I know I am correct.

[he sounds nothing short of icy and calculating as he continues; he speaks, now, to implicate, rather than accuse] After all, you've always had your 'resources'--else you wouldn't be here. [makes no move to approach Veidt, but continues speaking with cold assurance:] I don't know why you disappeared, or what you did to end up at this school, trying to validate your innocence with grand

[amongmycabbages]

[Muller's words penetrate Veidt's cold rage, bringing him up short, although his outside attitude does not change. He's aware of every physical reaction his body is undergoing, and he catalogs them, mentally, to retain his composure-- the hairs along his spine standing on end, prickles of sweat on his palms, breathing speeding up...and, most pronounced, the icy stab of fear in the pit of his stomach.

There's no way that Muller could know about Veidt's past-- in this universe, this narrative, there never was an Ozymandias, nor was there a Dr. Manhattan. Still, there have been disturbing ripples in the timelines recently (Veidt thinks back to his idle chat with Jon Osterman about the many-worlds hypothesis) and it would be dangerous to assume that he is the only one who's noticed. He's been lax, complacent in his "retirement"; he should have known it was too good to last. All insults aside, Veidt knows that Muller is a dangerous man, and a formidable opponent

[amoralsuperego]

[counts the extra beat it takes Veidt to respond and settles into a comfortable certainty that he has hit a nerve--although why might be a separate matter. Müller is quite certain he'd never met Veidt before coming to Custodes, nor anyone like him; an uncomfortable fact, leaving him with the reality that he has vague recollections of interacting with a man very like the one looming in his office]

[studies Veidt, considering the thinly veiled threat. shrugs] As you'll have it, then. [smirks] Keep your moral compass pristine.

[waits until Veidt is at the door before speaking again:] Veidt.

[amongmycabbages]

[Veidt doesn't dignify Müller with a verbal response as he strides quickly and surely towards the door, shoulders still set in anger.

At Müller's last word, though, he pauses, hand on the doorknob, and turns, one eyebrow raised in an expression of utter disdain.]

[amoralsuperego]

[exhales slowly, though not a bit of tension drains from him] The boy. There's nothing wrong with him. [his tone takes on a strange, serious quality--something harsh and tinged with disgust] Help him--but he needs no fixing.

And whatever you think, do not incriminate him. [meets Veidt's gaze with a stony look] You understand me?

[amongmycabbages]

[Though his mind is still sorting through plans and calculations and possibilities, Veidt's thoughts stutter to a halt as Müller speaks, and he blinks, once. He hadn't thought that the man would have the power to inspire even the faintest tinge of respect in him at all...but here Veidt is, surprised yet again. A formidable opponent, indeed.]

[He continues to regard Müller with a raised eyebrow, but now the expression is surprised, rather than merely supercilious, and when he speaks, it's almost gentle.] Of course there's nothing wrong with him. He simply hasn't...learned his own power yet.

[There's more he could say, but Müller has proven himself perceptive, and Veidt meets Müller's eyes, one last time.] That is not something you need to worry about.

[And with that, he departs.]

[nellyjellybelly]

[has obeyed Muller's command to turn around just in time to see Veidt enter the room. The flush drains from his face, and he hastily rearranges himself, mildly terrified. Situation aside, he had no idea that Mr V could move like that]