Jeff Calhoun (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bardish) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2018-08-01 10:10 am
bardish) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-08-01 10:10 am
and i wonder, when i sing along with you [OPEN]
who: Jeff Calhoun & OPEN
what: August Catch-All
when: ALL OF AUGUST
where: Various
warnings: Prompt II has brief references to past drug use and... VAGUELY demons.
i. it's a kind of magic (GRAMARYE)
[ Of everything Jeff could complain about with regards to his life here (Such as the recent kidnapping-by-cult! That's still a big one!), there's one thing he's totally content with: his job. Working at Gramarye, he gets the same joy of teaching as back home, only without the constraints of testing and curriculum drama. Also, the pay's marginally better. That helps.
Here in Riverview, he gets to teach kids who don't have a lot of opportunities at the public school, whether because they can't control their magic (or other abilities), or because the facilities aren't equipped for them, or they just... haven't had the best experiences with non-magical people in their own worlds, and feel safer with people more like them. Whatever the reason, they get their schooling at Gramarye, and Jeff's one of the teachers who works with them on their fundamental education. Not with magic (not a chance in hell he'd try to teach magical lessons, with there being ten thousand different types of magic here in the first place), but mundane subjects.
It's a challenge, coming up with lesson plans that can both cast a wide net and be allow him to customize for each kid's needs, but he loves it. And he gets to focus on all kinds of different things, depending on the students. Critical thinking! Reading comprehension! Self-expression! Occasionally, some degree of math!
For all that he might give off a slacker vibe, it's clear that he at least takes his job seriously. So, Jeff can often be found at Gramarye, whether it's during school hours for the magical youths, or after-hours: grading, lesson planning, or cleaning up after some magical mishap or another. Look, it's a hazard of the job. If he weren't so totally gunshy about doing magic, himself, he'd just... enchant the damn papers so no teenage wizards with a strong affinity for pyromancy could set their tests on fire when they get too stumped by a question...
Kyle.
So that's his current mission, when he's not teaching: asking his coworkers (or frequent visitors of Gramarye) for tips or spells to MAAAAYBE baby-proof his classroom. ]
Look, they're good kids, but sometimes they can get a little, ahh... excitable? It's like... shit happens! Things explode a little! So, if you've got a spell for that, I could really use a hand here...
ii. i'm burning through the sky, yeah (OPEN MIC NIGHT)
[ It's funny where life takes you. The last time Jeff played in front of a crowd, it was... 1995? A packed house, the crowd a mass of sweaty bodies, drunk, high, hopped up on this thing or that. He was shitfaced, too, trying to fry a voice out of his head with a cocktail of substances, but he could still hear it, even through the fog. From what he can remember, the set went from okay, to not-so-great, to a total shitshow. He lost time, blacked out, sometime around the last song in the set, and whatever happened after, he still has no memory of.
He found out after-the-fact that the night ended in yet another fight between him and his bandmates. Only by then, it was one fight too many, and that was the end of that. Bye bye, band.
And that wasn't even when he hit bottom.
This is the first time Jeff's picked up an instrument and played for an audience (instead of just himself) in over twenty years, and it couldn't be more different. Open mic at a coffeehouse, mellow music for a small, mellow crowd. Not normally something he'd do-- god, there's still a part of him that expects everything to go wrong, even as he's strumming a guitar and singing covers of other musicians (never his own stuff, not anymore)-- but, fuck, Athena's a bad influence here! Living with another bard, and not having his daughter around to pour all of his attention into, it's gotten harder for Jeff to keep on pretending he can live a full and satisfying life without music.
So, here we go. He's not flashy like he used to be, and half the people at the coffeehouse aren't even here for the open mic performances-- they're doing their own thing and hardly paying attention-- and that helps ease him through his initial waves of anxiety and settle into a nice groove here. It's just a few songs, by a few artists. When he's finished, it's a rush, that buzzing thrill beneath the skin that he always used to feel when he performed.
When it's over, Jeff sticks around to mingle and chat with people. Come say hi!
(And he enjoys the open mic thing enough that he'll come back a few more times over the month to play a short set. If Athena's with him, you can bet there will be duets.) ]
( And here's some references for songs he might've played: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. )
WILDCARD.
[ More prompts might pop up later. IN THE MEANTIME: if these don't strike your fancy, you can choose your own adventure. ]
what: August Catch-All
when: ALL OF AUGUST
where: Various
warnings: Prompt II has brief references to past drug use and... VAGUELY demons.
i. it's a kind of magic (GRAMARYE)
[ Of everything Jeff could complain about with regards to his life here (Such as the recent kidnapping-by-cult! That's still a big one!), there's one thing he's totally content with: his job. Working at Gramarye, he gets the same joy of teaching as back home, only without the constraints of testing and curriculum drama. Also, the pay's marginally better. That helps.
Here in Riverview, he gets to teach kids who don't have a lot of opportunities at the public school, whether because they can't control their magic (or other abilities), or because the facilities aren't equipped for them, or they just... haven't had the best experiences with non-magical people in their own worlds, and feel safer with people more like them. Whatever the reason, they get their schooling at Gramarye, and Jeff's one of the teachers who works with them on their fundamental education. Not with magic (not a chance in hell he'd try to teach magical lessons, with there being ten thousand different types of magic here in the first place), but mundane subjects.
It's a challenge, coming up with lesson plans that can both cast a wide net and be allow him to customize for each kid's needs, but he loves it. And he gets to focus on all kinds of different things, depending on the students. Critical thinking! Reading comprehension! Self-expression! Occasionally, some degree of math!
For all that he might give off a slacker vibe, it's clear that he at least takes his job seriously. So, Jeff can often be found at Gramarye, whether it's during school hours for the magical youths, or after-hours: grading, lesson planning, or cleaning up after some magical mishap or another. Look, it's a hazard of the job. If he weren't so totally gunshy about doing magic, himself, he'd just... enchant the damn papers so no teenage wizards with a strong affinity for pyromancy could set their tests on fire when they get too stumped by a question...
Kyle.
So that's his current mission, when he's not teaching: asking his coworkers (or frequent visitors of Gramarye) for tips or spells to MAAAAYBE baby-proof his classroom. ]
Look, they're good kids, but sometimes they can get a little, ahh... excitable? It's like... shit happens! Things explode a little! So, if you've got a spell for that, I could really use a hand here...
ii. i'm burning through the sky, yeah (OPEN MIC NIGHT)
[ It's funny where life takes you. The last time Jeff played in front of a crowd, it was... 1995? A packed house, the crowd a mass of sweaty bodies, drunk, high, hopped up on this thing or that. He was shitfaced, too, trying to fry a voice out of his head with a cocktail of substances, but he could still hear it, even through the fog. From what he can remember, the set went from okay, to not-so-great, to a total shitshow. He lost time, blacked out, sometime around the last song in the set, and whatever happened after, he still has no memory of.
He found out after-the-fact that the night ended in yet another fight between him and his bandmates. Only by then, it was one fight too many, and that was the end of that. Bye bye, band.
And that wasn't even when he hit bottom.
This is the first time Jeff's picked up an instrument and played for an audience (instead of just himself) in over twenty years, and it couldn't be more different. Open mic at a coffeehouse, mellow music for a small, mellow crowd. Not normally something he'd do-- god, there's still a part of him that expects everything to go wrong, even as he's strumming a guitar and singing covers of other musicians (never his own stuff, not anymore)-- but, fuck, Athena's a bad influence here! Living with another bard, and not having his daughter around to pour all of his attention into, it's gotten harder for Jeff to keep on pretending he can live a full and satisfying life without music.
So, here we go. He's not flashy like he used to be, and half the people at the coffeehouse aren't even here for the open mic performances-- they're doing their own thing and hardly paying attention-- and that helps ease him through his initial waves of anxiety and settle into a nice groove here. It's just a few songs, by a few artists. When he's finished, it's a rush, that buzzing thrill beneath the skin that he always used to feel when he performed.
When it's over, Jeff sticks around to mingle and chat with people. Come say hi!
(And he enjoys the open mic thing enough that he'll come back a few more times over the month to play a short set. If Athena's with him, you can bet there will be duets.) ]
( And here's some references for songs he might've played: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. )
WILDCARD.
[ More prompts might pop up later. IN THE MEANTIME: if these don't strike your fancy, you can choose your own adventure. ]
A RACE TO THE BOTTOM [Closed to: Cameron Waltz]
...
God, Jeff needs hobbies. Maybe he'll call a friend later. He's been here long enough that he has those now!
So anyway, it's a beautiful day, a beautiful beach, and Jeff's just minding his own business, happily listening to his running mix as he jogs along the beach and tries to plan out his weekend. What could possibly go wrong? ]
no subject
Cam got up bright and early for his morning run. He likes hitting the road before anyone else, so he can run without dodging pedestrians or interruption. Almost before he's woken up, he gets dressed, pulls on his shoes, and goes.
He doesn't have music yet. The portal didn't see fit to pull him through with his iPod, so he'll have to find the Riverview equivalent when he has time, and pray there's something worth listening to. Until then he enjoys the sound of the waves, sea birds, and dull hum of the city as it slowly comes to life.
There's another man on the beach. Tall. Broad. The sun catches in his sandy hair. Cam watches him for a moment, enjoying the view for a moment before passing. Can't let himself get too distracted.
It's only when he comes up on the man's right, glancing over to catch a glimpse of his face (sue him) that Cam recognizes him.
Jeff Calhoun.
Since when does he run? Cam's amazed he's coordinated enough to put one foot in front of the other at any speed.
Speaking of speed, Cam increases his pace by a couple MPH. Just enough to put him ahead, but without looking like he's trying. Steady. Graceful.
Superior.]
no subject
Not that Cam knows him at all, contrary to what he thinks from their handful of unpleasant interactions back home. Just like Jeff doesn't know him, either. Case in point: when he realizes the guy to his right is none other than Cameron Waltz, and the biggest thing that stands out to him is that Waltz isn't wearing a suit. Which, of course, makes sense when one is running! But he's surprised there's no... tailored running suit on the man.
And, look, Jeff's really not into competitive dick swinging. All that I'm such an alpha male bullshit posturing. He may be overly anxious when it comes to a lot of things in life (thanks, youthful trauma), but by nature, he's a pretty chill and laid back guy. (And yeah, his nature being so at odds with his neuroses is A THING. It's a problem. He finds ways to manage it!)
So when a guy tries to show off how much bigger, stronger, faster, manlier he is than Jeff, he tends to shrug it off. Let them do their thing, while he keeps at his. He's pretty content with himself, so he has nothing to prove, and clearly, it means more to them than it does to him, etc etc etc.
When Waltz passes him-- and he's totally speeding up on purpose, Jeff knows it-- Jeff finally gets it. The spirit of competition whispering in his ear: FUCK THAT GUY, HE'S SUCH A DICK, SHOW HIM UP! Okay, so it was less a whisper and more a shout.
So, fine!! Jeff picks up his own pace, pulling his headphones off so he can flash Waltz a smile and a cheerful: ]
Morning! What a nice day, huh?