â sugar and spice? | open()
'Currently, I am ⊠in my office! Come say hello!'
So sayeth the whiteboard hanging on Sybilâs door, at least. Said door is open just barely, and the sound of rapid typing floats out into the adjourning hallway, supported by the faint strains of an unfamiliar piece of music.
(Itâs probably some sort of retro music, from some old long out of fashion alternative band that nobody knows the name of. But at the same time, it does sound oddly familiar to anyone who hears it.)
Sybil herself sits at her desk, her back ramrod straight and her posture the complete image of ergonomic perfection as she types away.
Her office is very homely, with soft cushioned chairs positioned around a dainty table. A small dish of individually wrapped chocolate candies sits atop the table, and although the type of sweet differs from day to day, Sybilâs âtake as many as youâd likeâ policy has lead to many a bulging pocket for many a student. The office itself smells sort of like lavender, and is lit by several lamps positioned around the interior, rather than by the harsh fluorescent light affixed to the ceiling. The resulting ambiance leads one to think that Sybilâs office is essentially an extension of her own home, a theory supported by the tea set daintily stowed away atop one of the numerous file cabinets lining the room.
The walls of her office are covered in photos and newspaper clippings; several of them seem to be taken from articles commemorating Sybilâs own achievements prior to her arrival at the academy, but an alarming number depict the academyâs very own Red, clearly in her later years. Amidst the photos and clippings are a few Tancho Academy brochures and posters, and several inspirational quotes; at least thereâs some standard school counselor wall decoration fare to be found on Sybilâs office walls.
Sybil herself occasionally glances towards her slightly ajar door, watching for any signs of movement in the adjourning hallway. Itâs not rare for a student seeking guidance or counseling to drop by her office at this time of day, so the guidance counselor is remaining vigilant.
What sort of (hapless) student â or staff, for that matter â will (stumble into) come and visit her (well-oiled trap) office today?
Perhaps it was the right thing to do. Walter contemplated his choice even now, standing before the door. He needed to talk to someone. Would a guidance counselor even really be able to help with his feelings?
The door was slightly ajar...Should he knock? He grasped the handle first and then knocked with his free hand before he swung the door open.
He tried to grin confidently but only managed a weak smile as he shuffled into the room.Â
He didn't expect to see Red everywhere. Or a giant sunhat either.Â
A giant sunhat. Indoors? What? Don't stare damn you!Â
"H-Hey.." He tried to sound casual. This was the worst idea ever. Walter honestly wanted to bolt at this point.Â