(no subject)

[ladyfirestarter]

The permanent door from Milliways opens onto a hallway that looks like it could be a teacher's area in a primary school. Drawings and photographs are tacked up on the walls; the doors leading off the hallway are painted a calm pale-rose color, and each has a nameplate on it. (The closest one reads IRENE TASSENBAUM. It's locked; Irene's out today.)

Charlie steps aside to let her guest through. "Welcome to Taos."

Comments

[thisfatefulhour]

Charles steps through, head up, looking around with badly restrained curiosity.

He pauses just inside the door, head a little cocked as if listening.

[ladyfirestarter]

There's a constant background hum of sound here, low enough to be just barely within the threshold of conscious hearing. Many people don't notice it at all, and others only by its absence once they've left.

And for some, it's echoed by an internal hum that has nothing to do with sound waves at all.

[thisfatefulhour]

It's not something he could, or would, necessarily, put a name to

(the Old Music)

but feeling it makes his smile widen.

"I like it here already," he murmurs.

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie glances at him, pleased and mildly surprised.

"You feel it?"

[thisfatefulhour]

He nods. "I can feel something, anyway."

[ladyfirestarter]

"That's what they call the good-mind. The sort of ... background hum of a lot of psychics in one place. It gets louder if any number of them are actively communicating, or working on something together."

She leads the way down the hall.

[thisfatefulhour]

His eyes light up as he follows her.

"If this is what it's like normally, it must be pretty amazing when it's stronger."

[ladyfirestarter]

"It can be," she agrees, with a smile.

They pass a large window overlooking the grounds, and Charlie pauses to let him take in the view from the second floor of the low building next to Main.

[thisfatefulhour]

He pauses as well and peers out at the campus. "This is beautiful country."

[ladyfirestarter]

"I like it." She's looking out into the winter blue sky, a little dreamily. "It's nothing at all like where I grew up, but ... it feels like home anyway, somehow."

[thisfatefulhour]

He grins, and doesn't say home is where the heart is, but might be thinking it.

He does say, "Me neither. It's definitely not New England," as he turns back towards her.

[ladyfirestarter]

She gestures down the hallway.

"It's a little cold out -- I was thinking we'd take the tunnels."

[thisfatefulhour]

His eyebrows go up. "All right. Where are we headed?"

[ladyfirestarter]

"The library. This time of day, it's the likeliest place."

Charlie opens a door at the end of the hallway, and steps through into the stairwell.

(Her eyes are carefully fixed on the far wall as she takes the first step down.)

[thisfatefulhour]

He doesn't comment -- but he does stay in her peripheral vision.

"Do the kids have free run of these?"

[ladyfirestarter]

"Not the offices, not unsupervised -- but most of the rest of the campus, yes."

(Not looking down.)

"We try to balance their need for a degree of independence against their safety. It's a constant compromise, and we shift it as we see the need."

[thisfatefulhour]

"Same as any organization, I suppose. Although I'd imagine a higher level of adaptability here than, say, the schools I went to."

[ladyfirestarter]

"There has to be. The place where these kids were before -- it was highly regimented. Constantly. Any avoidable similarity to what they escaped ... well, if we can stay away from it, we do."

[thisfatefulhour]

"Understood."

He falls silent for a moment, then says quietly, "The more I hear about this place, the place they came from . . . well, the gladder I am I spoke with River."

[ladyfirestarter]

They've reached the bottom of the switchback stairs by now. Charlie turns right, opens a door, and leads the way down a corridor. It's more brightly lit than might be implied by the term "tunnels," and in better upkeep; the only real difference between it and the upstairs hallways is a lack of windows.

"I'm glad too. No one belongs in a place like that."

[thisfatefulhour]

"No," he agrees.

He's still looking around curiously, though there's not much to see down here.

[ladyfirestarter]

"The trouble is, not all the similarities are avoidable. By nature, we're an institution, not a family home."

They pass a few doors on either side (closed), an open doorway with the universal restroom sign over it, a drinking fountain; the faint buzzing hum of its cooling system blends for a moment with the background hum, then fades as they keep walking.

"The kids are improving, though, so ... it seems to be enough."

At the far end of the corridor is another stairway, leading up.

[thisfatefulhour]

"Is there another function to this place? Or is it dedicated to helping the kids?"

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie holds the door for him.

"Primarily the kids, these days. Our original function isn't the crucial matter it once was." She pauses, reconsidering that. "No, that's not quite right. It isn't the urgent matter it once was. Still very crucial, but less pressing."

[thisfatefulhour]

He gives her a curious look as he heads through the door and waits for her.

"Mind if I ask?"