Corrie Pye is good at leaving (corriespondence) wrote in alleyrpg, @ 2010-07-10 16:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, 2030: 07, character: corrie pye, character: lorcan scamander, place: other |
RP - Corrie and Lorcan
Date: 9 July 2030, afternoon
Characters: Lorcan Scamander and Corrie Pye
Location: Headquarters for Comet Trading Company in Penzance, Cornwall
Private/Public: Private
Rating: PG
Summary: Corrie interviews for a job. Lorcan ends up interviewing her.
It was stupid for a Quidditch player to settle in the same area he (or she) played in, Corrie thought. Stupid and a little cliche. No one in her family had ever lived on the Isle of Skye, not since time beyond remembering, anyway, and no one seemed likely to. And why? Because it was bloody boring on the Isle of Skye, that's why. The Prides didn't even have a training pitch there, and even if they had, they could've just apparated over whenever they liked. So why make yourself live somewhere that dull (and cold) just for tradition or the look of things when you could live anywhere you liked, really?
The answer, of course, was tradition and the look of things. They could be pretty powerful, actually, in a symbolic sort of way. But it was still disappointing to think that the Comet Trading Company, founded one hundred and one years ago by a pair of former Falcons, had headquarters in Cornwall, of all places. Honestly.
Well, it didn't matter so long as they'd pay her for helping test their brooms, she thought as she opened the door into the reception area. If they gave her a portkey, she'd travel to Sri Lanka. It was a decent bit of extra income, and not a lot of time, for flying brooms - something she was pretty damn good at anyway, and usually enjoyed.
If they selected her. She couldn't have been the only one who saw the advert in the Prophet, or even the only one who was responding to it. There were probably plenty of broom enthusiasts who would jump on the chance. Or reserve players needing a few more galleons. It was the offseason now, making it the perfect time to pick up an extra job. After all, wasn't that what Corrie herself was doing?
"Corrie Pye, here for an interview?" she said to the witch behind the reception desk, and at her instruction seated herself in one of the chairs to the side. At the moment she was the only person waiting. Probably she'd just come after a big rush or something. She glanced around at various posters and displays - many of the Falmouth Falcons - and picked up an old issue of Quidditch Monthly from the coffee table's stack. She hadn't read that one in awhile.
Lorcan was only working on the seven league broom project temporarily. "You'll like this--" his boss had said (optimistically) before introducing him to the woman who'd done most of the development work on the project, a grey-haired woman with a long face and a clipped voice who had the reputation of a genius, and who was currently also developing two other projects and didn't have time to supervise the testing of the seven league broom. Their first meeting, after a bit of testing to make sure Lorcan wasn't a complete idiot (at least, that's how he'd interpreted the spate of questions she'd thrown at him) they'd talked about water spells, which had nothing to do with anything but had left Lorcan with a great respect for anything Amalthea put together.
Their second meeting had been mediated by Lorcan's boss, who seemed to want them to talk about the seven league broom and what exactly was going to be tested to the exclusion of all other subjects. It was thanks to him that Lorcan had any idea how the broom was supposed to work at all, because Amalthea had wanted to discuss vision.
Their third meeting had been canceled due to deadlines on another project, but things outside had continued progressing with ads for test flyers and interviews scheduled, and that was why Lorcan was here today despite all deadlines on other projects, watching a number of people use the broom company's state of the art wind tunnel to go through a series of maneuvers partially designed by Amalthea to showcase the kinds of skills a test flyer would need for this particular project. The tests had attracted quite an audience by this point -- apparently this wasn't exactly how the wind tunnel was usually used -- but Lorcan ignored them, noting down everything that seemed relevant. He was starting to get a feel for who was good and who wasn't.
"Want some tea?" the broom company representative asked Lorcan. She was making her own notes, which didn't seem to correspond to the things Lorcan was watching at all. "I'll make it if you'll fetch the next candidate from the reception area and ask her all the basic questions." That was the boring part, but Lorcan smiled and agreed--
Only to be shocked to find Corrie Pye reading a magazine in the waiting room.. She hadn't seen him; Lorcan backed out of sight, his heart beating a little bit faster. It was clearly Corrie, a little older, longer hair, but Corrie. He was surprised by how easily he'd recognized her, and not surprised at all.
It had to happen sometime.
That being the case--not letting himself think about it, Lorcan reentered the reception area, completely ignoring Corrie to go talk to the receptionist for a moment. When he was sure Corrie had had time to notice him, he turned--and caught his breath. Still Corrie. "Are you here to interview for the broom testing position?" he asked her carefully. Let's keep this professional, his body language said.
She had glanced up when he re-entered the room, and her casual gaze froze, her body tensing up at the sight of him. What was he doing here?
Stupid question. He couldn't be interviewing himself, he wasn't good enough on a broom (unless things had changed even more than Corrie thought likely). He had to be working. Developing ways of research and researching things to develop. Merlin. She should have guessed - anything new that came out, he'd probably have something to do with it. There was basically no escaping Lorcan unless she wanted to hide under her bed or an iron bunker, and even then she'd probably find him installing charms to make the air last longer.
Bloody Ravenclaws.
At least he was giving her time to prepare, intentionally or unintentionally. She had her suspicions about that - he had a hint of the old care about him again, the sense that he was holding back slightly out of consideration and possibly to avoid being mauled. Her face had flushed - she couldn't help it, but she kept her actual expression as blank as she could, and when she spoke (really spoke to him, for the first time in years), she managed to keep her voice from shaking.
"Yes," Corrie said. And that was the best she could do, as sudden as this all was. She hated to think how she'd be acting if she hadn't seen him at the Quidditch pitch those weeks ago.
Lorcan smiled a professional smile, a little of his tension dissolving with that brief monosyllable. He wasn't sure what he'd expected from her, but he could handle monosyllables. "It's an interesting project," he said, turning to lead her away from the reception room and the curious receptionist, through the hallways to the interview room. "And we need someone who's very quick on a broom, and good at precision and control and reacting to the unexpected" He paused, then added apologetically, "I just got moved onto this project." But he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. Existing? Something about the way Corrie was looking at him made him feel like he was intruding on her turf.
"It's good to see you," he continued, maybe a bit too sincerely. Trying too hard.
"I think you'll be a good candidate for this," he added. That still sounded odd, and oddly impersonal as well.
He felt a surge of irritation: why was this so hard? He wasn't making it so hard. He didn't think he was making it hard. Corrie was. He was just living his life, without making assumptions about anything, but somehow when Corrie entered the picture, everything turned into questions. Did she want something? Why did people think she did? Why did people think he did? How had everything become so complicated? What was she going to do next? What did she want?
He reached the interview room and held the door open for her with his professional smile. "There are some forms on the table you'll need to fill out before you can use the wind tunnel, that's the important part. I'll be over here--" He nodded toward a desk completely covered with papers and books -- mostly handwritten notes but also some printouts in very small print and books with shiny covers. "When you're done, or if you need anything."
Corrie didn't have much to say, or at least much that she could think of to say, so she had followed Lorcan down the hall in silence, just thinking and listening to him speak. And it sounded to her like... well, it sounded like he was flustered, as hard as that was to believe. He was the one with the upper hand here - he was in charge of the situation, she was the one begging for a job so she could fix her faucet and make a few other improvements to her life. And she'd answered him in relative calm, so he couldn't think she was going to attack him or something.
Then it occurred to her that this was the first time he'd seen her since he left Britain. She'd had the benefit of meeting him on the pitch, but with her costume on, he'd of course had no clue that it was her. He couldn't have even proved definitively that the person inside Rumbleroar was male or female. The costume designers knew what they were about, that was for sure. They'd spoken online, and he may have seen her picture in the papers. But seeing a picture was different, and talking through a medium where you could take your time and hide your emotions couldn't compare to being right in front of a living, breathing human being. And this living, breathing human being was babbling. She had him nervous.
Well, that leveled the playing field a lot. Corrie felt her confidence returning just as they reached the room, and was ready to meet Lorcan's odd, professional smile with one of her own, with an added, unconscious touch of amusement in her eyes and a bit of smirk to her mouth. Her face was still pink, which spoiled the effect somewhat. But this being a job interview, that was probably for the best.
"What kind of forms?" she asked, walking past him and into the interview room and pausing before sitting at the table. She couldn't resist a joke, though she toned the delivery down. She was an adult, and too mature to be bothered by seeing her ex-boyfriend unexpectedly. Be the rock. Be the island. Maybe she should have taken yoga or something. She looked back at him over her shoulder, then back down at the table, idly fingering a piece of paper. "Am I selling my soul away? Does it involve my next of kin?" She actually hadn't expected a wind tunnel, not yet. It was supposed to be just an interview - she wasn't really dressed for flying. These were her nice trousers.
The questions weren't entirely unexpected, and with anyone else Lorcan would have just asked them to read the forms and let him know if they had any questions (it had been a long day), but since this was Corrie--
He shrugged. "You're promising not to sue if you're not as good as you think you are and get hurt in the wind tunnel. You can still sue if the wind tunnel malfunctions, but actually you'll get compensation anyway, so you probably won't need to. And we start with the easy stuff and work up, so really, it's just something the legal department here put together for fun. No one's had any problems at all, all day."
While giving this completely neutral explanation, Lorcan watched Corrie. She looked good. She looked confident, and she looked like she knew what she was doing here -- which reminded him that he knew what he was doing here too (more or less). Just because it was Corrie didn't mean he was Lorcan from five years ago, and the obvious truth of that thought allowed him to gather a bit more of his self-possession.
A bit wryly, he added, "And if you can play Quidditch, you shouldn't have any issues." Quidditch being, of course, an absurdly dangerous game.
He glanced at the pile of paperwork. That actually covered the majority of it, but there were a couple more things. "The rest is just the application, job history, that sort of thing."
He hesitated, then added in exactly the same just-explaining-the-facts tone, "Oh, and I guess if you're really interested in selling your soul, that's a different department. We will allow you to deposit it with us for safekeeping while you do the tests, but you do that at your own risk." A flicker of a challenging smile -- I'll take your joke and raise you a level of absurdity -- and then he retreated toward his desk, calling back before the door to the interview room swung shut, "And there's a whole extra pile of paperwork for that, so I really don't recommend it."
The door shut, and Corrie shut her open mouth, too. She had been about to say something - she had no idea what, probably something idiotic that she would've been horribly embarrassed over. Good thing he hadn't given her time, even if it was a really cheap move to say something like that and just walk off. You were supposed to give a person a chance to hit you back, even if it was just a verbal sparring match. It was just fair play.
She sank into the chair, her back gratefully to the door. She didn't want him to be able to see her face right now, not least because she was blushing hotly again. Merlin. She'd forgotten he had a sense of humour. Or maybe she thought she had played it up, like she had everything about him, making him into some perfect, ideal thing. Or maybe she had played it up and that was him changed, older. Grown up.
But probably not. It had been a joke that originally attracted her to him, after all, though she was damned if she could remember what it was.
It didn't matter, Corrie thought, rubbing her eyes and pursing her lips at the forms in front of her. She had more important things to think about, like what the hell she was to put on the job history. She'd only had one job in the wizarding world that she could talk about, and that was Quidditch, three years ago. They weren't likely to give her a glowing testimonial after how she left midseason, either... well, maybe they would, it depended on who the Comet people talked to. They probably wouldn't talk to her mum, unfortunately.
Her other jobs had been working at Winston's in Saskatoon, Sainsbury's right now, and obviously the mascot gig. Mascoting was secret, she wasn't including that. She'd get in so much trouble she'd never hear the end of it - and then Lorcan would know it had been her at the pitch, anyway. The pub and the supermarket were Muggle jobs, and had nothing to do with testing brooms, and the supermarket especially was pathetic. She didn't want him to know she was stocking shelves and cleaning floors while he was off working on a broom developing project like a real adult.
Maybe she should've just let her family pull strings all along, Corrie thought gloomily. Then she might not have such a wretched CV.
Well, she'd just have to deal with it, she was taking up too much time with all this waffling. She filled out the job history (except for Rumbleroar), giving all necessary particulars - including a note to ask after "Laurie Fry" at Sainsbury's and Winston's, though she hated to give up that pseudonym. It made it look like she was trying to hide something, and she wasn't really. She filled out the application. She signed and dated the legal document after making a great show of reading through the whole stupid thing, just because the sight of it made her want to avoid even skimming. Then she stood up, picked up the forms, and walked through the door to the desk Lorcan was sitting at.
Taking a breath, she said, "I just want to make sure, as a careful person with reasons to be careful, that none of this is going to get out. If it's not - well, I'm done with these." And she held out the forms to him, ready to take them back if he couldn't agree.
Lorcan had been trying to read through some of the handwritten notes, and not making much progress. The handwriting was difficult to decipher, and he was distracted. He had, however, scrupulously avoiding watching Corrie through the window in the door to the interview room, so he didn't notice when Corrie finally finished until she was looming over his desk. He looked up, half expecting some sort of comment about souls; what she actually said was entirely unexpected.
"Get out?" he asked, puzzled. "You mean--" It suddenly occurred to him that Corrie had just written down parts of her history and was about to give it to him, and he really had no right to take it from her. Though he couldn't imagine what she'd been doing that she didn't want to get out -- and that was the point. It was one thing when it was a stranger, but he wasn't even the one making hiring decisions, he was just the consultant. "I won't look at it," he said quickly. "But someone will. You'll have to ask Susan exactly what they do with it?"
And where was Susan? "She was going to make tea, but I guess she got distracted." It was easy to do. "Do you want to wait for her, or I could show you the wind tunnel?"
Corrie hesitated, and looked away to think about it with eyes narrowed slightly in thought. It helped a little to know he wasn't going to see it. Winston's wasn't shameful, and neither was Sainsbury's really - not morally, anyway. Just embarrassing to her personally. But Lorcan seeing where she'd been and what she'd done wasn't the whole point. She didn't want word to get out about "Laurie," she didn't want anyone from the tabloids harassing her friends in Saskatoon, and she sure as hell didn't want to give Albus Potter an excuse to say she didn't keep her information close enough and was surely going to end up dead in a gutter. And much as she didn't want to make Lorcan think she'd gone off and been a topless dancer or a surrogate mother and had to keep it hushed up, this was more important.
"I'll wait, if that's okay," she said finally, glancing at him - what he must be thinking right now - and away again. "Can't be too careful." Her lip twitched, and she added, "As a spy, you know. Whole civilizations could depend on keeping it secret."
Lorcan nodded, too busy trying not to look like he was trying to figure out what the big secret was to really respond to the spy quip. "I guess that's pretty important," he said. "I hope I didn't mess up your cover identity by recognizing you?"
He glanced around, and then abruptly grinned in relief. "Here's Susan now," he said. Susan was a few years older than Lorcan and Corrie, and had short black hair and a brisk manner. She handed Lorcan a cup of tea along with quick apology for running into a coworker she had to talk to, before turning to Corrie, offering her hand for a firm handshake.
"Corrie wants to know what you're going to do with her application information," Lorcan said by way of getting her up to speed quickly.
"Why don't we go back into the interview room, where I'll be happy to answer any questions you have," Susan said, gesturing Corrie toward the interview room. When Lorcan sat down at his desk instead of coming along, she raised an eyebrow and mouthed something that Lorcan shrugged about. "I'll just be a moment," she said to Corrie, but after talking to Lorcan for a couple of moments she nodded and joined Corrie. "We do keep all your personal information secure, and only accessible to authorized employees," she said after she sat down.
Corrie couldn't help glancing through the window at Lorcan before sitting and turning her attention to the other woman. "That's the main thing I was worried about, really," she said. "It's sort of - I mean, it's a bit..." She took a moment to look up at the ceiling and collect her thoughts, then she continued, "My family's big in Quidditch, and I've played too. I've worked some Muggle jobs, that's all - under a different name, it's all in here-” she handed Susan the form to see, "-and it's all legitimate, that's not the issue. I just don't want people tracking my employers down and harassing them. Or me, while I'm at my current job." Or after hours, while she was leaving. Or a variety of other creepy or just tiresome possibilities.
"I wasn't sure if I should even put them on there in the first place, to be honest," she went on. "They're not related to brooms or flying at all, obviously. I just didn't want it to look like I had one job and then did nothing for three years. If it won't be available to loads of people, though, that's fine, I'm ready to interview. I just wanted to make sure first." Was that all right? She didn't want to look like she distrusted them all, but neither did she want her private information made available to all the wizarding world.
"We may contact your former employers to verify your employment history," Susan said austerely. "We do work through the proper ministry department regarding muggle employment, and you may rest assured that it will go no further. Since the broom you'll be working with is still in development, this is a position of trust; we will need to verify your history." She smiled, abruptly human, "Don't worry, we deal with Quidditch players all the time, and the check is quite painless. You won't hear anything about it."
She straightened Corrie's paperwork and then folded her hands on top of it, austere again, and briskly to the point. "But before we begin, I have another somewhat unusual question to ask you. I understand that you and Mr. Scamander have personal history of some sort? He seems to think it would be unfair for him to judge your performance, but quite frankly I'm afraid that his reluctance will be even more unfair to you. He's been observing all the other candidates, and while he doesn't have hiring authority, he does have influence, and a blank from him could be...unfortunate. Are you uncomfortable with him observing your performance?"
After a second, she added, surprisingly gently, "You don't have to tell me your reasons. Yes or no will suffice."
The question blew all other concerns momentarily out of Corrie's mind, and she sat there staring at Susan while she processed it. Lorcan thought it wasn't fair to watch her fly? What did that even mean? He'd said she shouldn't have any problems, he'd said she was a good candidate. What was he thinking telling them this now? Was he trying to hurt her chances of getting the job? Would he be that petty?
Then, suddenly, Corrie was angry, and her anger swept away the shock and hurt she'd been feeling a moment before. He had no right to do that, even if it wasn't on purpose. She needed this job, for the extra money, and what was more important, she wanted it. She was as good a flyer as anyone they could've had interviewing, and a damn sight better than most, she was sure. She was a Pride, even if they didn't know it, and she had her pride. And she was going to blow them all out of the Merlindamned water, so far out that Lorcan couldn't possibly pan her performance.
She was smart enough to keep most of the anger off her face, but she couldn't keep it entirely out of her eyes, and she flushed - as usual - as she raised her head and said, evenly, "I'm not uncomfortable with it at all." And if he was uncomfortable with it, that was just too bad for him, as far as she was concerned. He could just do his job as he was supposed to and deal with it.
Susan looked at Corrie searchingly, then nodded, her approval obvious. "Very well," she said. "Then unless you have any further questions, we might as well get started. Are you ready to fly?"
Assuming the answer would be yes, she got up and led the way out, pausing to collect Lorcan, who had actually managed to get lost in the notes he was reading this time and looked completely surprised to be interrupted. He gave Susan an apologetic smile as he collected his notebook, then looked at Corrie questioningly.
"Have you ever flown in a wind tunnel before?" Susan asked, preempting anything Lorcan might have been about to say.
"No," Corrie said, trying not to look back at Lorcan - this was still an interview, she hadn't passed yet and she wasn't about to risk anything by being openly rude to their consultant, even if right this second she thought he was being unfair and stupid. It was easier to avoid eye contact with him as they were all walking, thankfully, and she was quite grateful to Susan for taking her attention away. "I've flown in plenty of storms and strong winds, though. But the tunnel would be stronger, right? Stronger and more focused?" She wasn't exactly ignoring Lorcan outright, because that probably wouldn't look good either. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him make her look bad right now, not in any way.
"Not exactly," Susan said. "We've don't have anything on the worst nature can throw out. Usually the wind tunnel mimics normal flight, and occasionally we set it up with gradual variations in conditions, but today's test is a bit different. We've set it up for continually changing conditions, with the changes happening quickly, almost instantaneously. The important thing for you to know is that for your safety you need to stay within the inner third of the tunnel. Someone will be monitoring and will shut down the cross currents if you get too far toward any of the sides and there are cushioning charms, but your goal is to keep flying and to stay in the same position no matter what the wind does."
Lorcan, meanwhile, was listening politely to Susan but seemed to be waiting for something, continually glancing around as he followed along. His gaze fell on Corrie often, and immediately moved on. When his gaze fell on Susan, his lips tightened, but when Susan had finished speaking, he seemed to take that as a cue, and said to Corrie, "The broom you'll be using is as close as we can get to performing like the real test broom, so it has some quirks and won't handle exactly like any broom you're used to." A bit wryly, "At least, that's what everyone tells me. I tried it, but I couldn't tell any difference, so I guess it's somewhat subtle."
They rounded a corner and the wind tunnel came into view. It was a large enclosed area with a faint glow from the charms that generated the wind. There were markings on the floor and the walls to help with orientation, and a somewhat crude landscape painted on the front wall, also apparently for orientation. The broom hovered in the middle of the open space, and anti-wind charms protected two opposite corners, which were carefully marked with thick painted lines.
Quirks and quick changes... Corrie was starting to get really curious as to what kind of broom this was, exactly. How much of a difference could there really be, though? It was still a broom, made for flying, through the air. There were variations on speed, control, how high they could fly, comfort, loads of things, but the concept of the broom was still the same.
Maybe she should ask. Probably she should ask, if the changes were so strong and sudden as all that. But there was just a chance that this was part of the test too, just as much as actually flying. And even if it wasn't officially, well, she didn't want to give the impression - not to Susan or Lorcan or anybody - that she was afraid. It was just a broom, how bad could it be? She'd just take it easy for the first minute or so while she was getting used to the handling of the thing, and then she'd be off and away. Virtually.
"All right," she said, looking at the tunnel for a moment. It hadn't really been what she expected, somehow. "Do I start now, then?"
"If you don't have any questions," Susan said, waiting to see if there were any before moving toward the corner where the wind was blocked. The opposite corner had a few gawkers, watching and talking amongst themselves.
Lorcan gave Corrie a grin that was probably supposed to be encouraging, though there was a bit of grimace to it that probably wasn't intentional -- he'd noticed that she'd been sort of ignoring him earlier, and he didn't feel right about judging her and was feeling more than a bit awkward about the whole situation, but he said "Good luck!" and then, sincerely, "You'll have fun," before following Susan.
His encouragement did very little to improve Corrie's mood - in fact, it only made her more determined to get this right without help, without explanations or warnings about what to expect. She mounted the broom - so far so good, it worked like any other broom in that respect, at least - and threw a look at Lorcan and Susan that held a bit more defiance than was strictly professional, then leaned forward, as close to the handle as she could get, to get a feel for its weight and vibration. That would also give her more control over how it flew, but every broom felt different, though with mass-produced ones, of course, it was usually very subtle.
Lorcan and Susan sat down in a pair of chairs behind the anti-wind barrier. Lorcan started spreading out his notes on the table in front of him, but Susan kept her eyes on Corrie as Corrie tried out the broom in place.
"Did you ask her about recording, to let Amalthea watch instead?" Lorcan asked Susan quietly, with a glance toward Corrie. To his eyes, she looked a lot like all the other candidates.
"No, of course not, that wouldn't be equitable," Susan said.
"This isn't equitable," Lorcan said, frustrated but intensely quiet. He didn't want the conversation to carry to Corrie, and since the wind hadn't started yet, that was a very real possibility.
"Then make it so," Susan said, impatiently, and called to Corrie, "Let us know when you're ready."
When Corrie was ready, the wind would start and the wind tunnel would come to life, the various markings and paintings turning into seamless illusions of moving over a grassy landscape. The wind would blow straight ahead at first, then cross currents would be added at random, slowly changing at first but working up to changing very rapidly, faster and harder with the only limit being how long the flyer could stay safely in the center. The broom itself was quite responsive except just after a change to the wind. Mimicking the seven league broom, which used a lot of energy for a jump, it invariably felt sluggish just when correction was needed the most.
It was impossible not to wonder what they were talking about, although Corrie assumed it was still about her. She was the obvious topic of interest at the moment. But she couldn't hear them, and she needed to focus on the broom anyway - something about the frequency did feel slightly different when she concentrated on it, and she thought if she concentrated hard enough she might be able to figure it out before the test really started. Or at least get a good lead on it.
"Ready!" she called back. She had a feeling she should have worn sturdier clothing for this, but oh well. Her trousers would survive.
Then the wind tunnel came on, and she didn't have time to think about clothes anymore. It was fast - a good, strong wind, though not quite up to some of what she'd flown in since Quidditch didn't generally get cancelled for less than a hurricane. So far so good - the broom was responding well, and she wasn't having trouble hanging on. The illusions made it look like she was actually outside, which helped her relax. Flying inside was a weird, unnatural sensation - it seemed wrong, and like someone, possibly a professor, was going to tell her off any minute. But outside was as it should be.
The cross currents were starting, so Corrie adjusted her hands to get a better grip on the handle of the broom and wove left and right, up and down gently, with little effort, her hair streaming behind her. The broom responded beautifully, and she wondered what these quirks were exactly that Lorcan had referred to. But the wind wasn't too bad yet. She wasn't even having any trouble staying within the inner third of the tunnel, so this couldn't be the hardest part of the test, not by a longshot. She was sure to find out what was, soon and firsthand.
As soon as she thought it, the wind blasted at her from the right. Corrie leaned into it, putting on a burst of speed to keep from being blown away, and then suddenly it was gone, and she had to somersault to keep from flying out of the safe zone. As she pulled up, the wind came at her again - from above, luckily, so she grinned and finished her flip in the hope that the wind would disappear or change again once she was done. It worked, but her heart was still beating as she hugged the broom. That was closer than she liked, and she hadn't even been flying for very long. She was going to have to be even more careful than she'd expected. But it was hard - the broom had seemed to be resisting her for a moment there, which didn't make sense.
Sense or not, it was exactly the case, as she realized before long. The wind came at her from the left now, stopped abruptly, then again from the right, then above, below, right, below, then stopped for what felt like a long time but was really only about thirty seconds. She hung in midair, gripping the broom with fierce determination. What was she supposed to do here, read the bloody wind's mind? And the whole time, the broom would stutter and putter and stubbornly refuse to put on speed, so that she kept overcorrecting and narrowly avoided being blown out of the inner third more than once.
Bludgers, she thought. Think of them as bludgers or something, maybe that'll help. The problem was that you could see bludgers coming if you looked, whereas the wind was invisible. Well, to hell with it, she was going with the metaphor anyway. Maybe it would at least make this feel more normal. This was just a Quidditch match with Aiden, or maybe Mum. Perfectly normal and natural. Though Corrie kept a tight hold on the broom handle, she felt herself relaxing and her mind reaching outward, for whatever good that might do her.
She rode the wind with a bit more ease now, giving firm direction to the broom and focusing on the middle of the tunnel so she'd be less likely to get carried away. It seemed to be working, but it could only last so long - and finally, while attempting a tight corkcrew into the heart of the wind (hair whipping around her as she thought bludgerbludgerbludger all the while), the broom just wouldn't respond - she felt her spiral unravelling - and she went flying against her will out of the safe zone, spinning tail over tip to the left side of the tunnel.
From the outside, the wind was actually visible, currents glowing as phosphorescent in the air, which made it easier for the observers to see what the flyer was responding to. As Corrie flew, Lorcan found himself leaning forward in his chair, watching her, yes, but with more tension than he'd felt for any of the previous flyers. Ironically, he realized that he'd been comparing all of the previous flyers to Corrie playing Quidditch six years ago at school; he'd watched her with far more attention than anyone before or since, he'd even gone to some of her practices and he'd come to know her style, so now when he saw a flyer on a broom, all flight was judged against hers.
Corrie today had some of the same quirks as his remembered Corrie, but she'd also changed. It was the same thing that made talking to her -- seeing her -- so fascinating and so distracting. He didn't know her, but sometimes he did. Like that flip, he could see its twin in his mind's eye, in a game against Slytherin, and how did he remember that?
He wasn't making this equitable. How could he? Lorcan quickly jotted down a few notes, stole a sidelong glance at Susan, who was watching Corrie and not him, thankfully. She wouldn't approve of his distraction.
She did take her eyes off Corrie when Corrie spun out of the safe zone and the winds let up as Corrie was pinned by cushioning spells, and caught Lorcan wincing. "She did well," Susan said. Lorcan nodded guardedly, and abruptly Susan laughed at his expression. "I'm not judging you," she said.
Lorcan grinned self-consciously. Susan didn't give him a chance to respond any more than that; she waved to Corrie and called, "Come over and talk to us."
When Corrie arrived, she asked, "What can you tell us about the broom and its performance? Was there anything special you noticed?" Lorcan tried to look attentive while he surreptitiously filled in a few areas on his notes that he hadn't got to while Corrie was flying.
Her clothes were dishevelled, her hair was a mess, and one of her shoes had gone flying and had needed to be recovered before she came over, looking like she'd been through... well, a wind storm, and not at all like you were traditionally supposed to look at a job interview. She was more frustrated than angry, and looked and felt more disappointed than anything else, because without the benefit of having seen other people try out, she had no idea what was good or bad, only the feeling that she personally could (and should!) have done better. She'd wanted to dismount in triumph, giving Lorcan a take-that look, and instead she was trying to adjust her shirt and smooth out her hair as she walked up.
She didn't feel up to looking at Lorcan right now. Susan was a welcome distraction. "It was sneaky," she said with a frown. "I mean - it started out smooth as butter, almost eager - but not to the point it was trigger-happy or anything, more like..." she sighed. "It was working perfect at first, though the vibrations were a bit off, it was almost too easy, and then all of a sudden - well, I don't know how you managed to get it to sync up with the wind like that, but it was like trying to steer a broom through molasses, I swear. And it didn't like turns at all. What use is that, though?" she said, her voice growing puzzled. "It doesn't make sense for a broom, you need maneuverability. You can't be flying in straight lines all the time."
Corrie hesitated. It made her feel young and childish to think it, but it had felt for a few scattered moments like the broom was fighting her. But that was stupid - you might have a broom with a personality, and loads of people named them, but that didn't mean they could think. A broom didn't have a will of its own, it didn't think. It just responded to authority and guidance.
No, she wasn't going to mention that. She was sure it was just in her imagination anyway, so there was no point. "That's all," she said, still reluctant to look at Lorcan. She hadn't been nearly as impressive as she'd wanted, and it grated more than a little.
"It's useful for testing test flyers," Susan said, sounding amused. "And you're right, the timing -- the sync with the wind, as you said -- that's one of the problems that we're trying to fix on the real broom. I'm afraid we gave you the worst flyable version we have, but this is a test. You did well."
Lorcan, looking at Corrie all bedraggled and disappointed, felt an impulse to blurt out the information that no one made it to the end of the test without falling out of the center -- just to get her to look at him -- but that wouldn't be equitable and there was still more testing to go. Right now, someone was adjusting the broom and resetting the tunnel for wind -- removing and resetting the cushioning charms and fiddling with the landscape illusion. So Lorcan scribbled a few more notes, until he thought of something he could tell her. "There are a few spare goggles and some other stuff in the closet over there," he said, pointing, abrupt and eager to help.
Susan had the grace to blush at that -- she usually told the flyers about that, but she'd been so busy watching and judging that it had slipped her mind.
"I'm sorry, I should have mentioned that," she said smoothly. "But we'll take it into account." She scribbled something on her own notes, then added, "And we would like to see you fly again, now that you have some idea of what to expect."
She'd done well? "Goggles?" Corrie asked, looking from Lorcan to Susan and back in surprise. Just to keep the wind out of her eyes? Well, it wouldn't hurt, that was for sure, and she definitely needed to put her hair back to keep from distracting her. But she wasn't entirely keen to get back on that broom, it had been a little unnerving to have the broom not work as she was used to brooms doing. Quirks and quick changes, indeed.
But if she'd really done well... "All right," she said, a bit confused still, but taking a step toward the closet anyway. Maybe this wasn't entirely lost yet after all, she thought, and the thought made her smile as she turned and headed for the closet. "Just a minute, then."
As Corrie stepped away, Susan muttered defensively to Lorcan, "Nothing is completely equitable."
"And as you said, she did well anyway," Lorcan said. He was grinning; he wasn't sure why. But he felt a lot more easy about the whole situation now that Susan had made a mistake, however minor, and wasn't quite sitting over him like a paragon of everything that was perfect and fair about interviewing. "And maybe she'll do even better the second time, and then we won't have to worry about equitable at all, because it'll be obvious," he added cheerfully.
"I saw her play once," Susan admitted -- and it was an admission of something, though Lorcan wasn't sure of what. He shrugged, Susan shrugged, and then Corrie was returning, and they turned their attention to her. "Are you ready for another try?" Susan asked. Lorcan grinned at Corrie; he thought she'd fly brilliantly this time, and somehow that would solve everything.
Corrie returned with a freshly confident bounce to her step, her hair tied back and wearing clothes from the closet she'd been directed to. Having expected just a few pairs of goggles and maybe some arm or leg guards (despite having firsthand knowledge that the cushioning charms were quite enough, this was flying, and she equated flying with Quidditch), she had been pleasantly surprised to find several sets of loose, nondescript but sturdy clothing in various sizes. She'd changed clothes, after doing a quick check over it with her wand, because they might look clean, but there was no telling who else had worn them or even just touched them. The goggles, which she had decided on wearing, were for reasons of vanity still on top of her head – she'd worn goggles enough that she knew they were really unflattering, and she was still set on looking her best in front of Lorcan. And Susan. Of course.
Anyway, she needed all the help she could get to look good right now. These clothes might get the job done, but she looked like she was wearing a burlap sacks. Not that that mattered in a test like this. The point was to make it easier to fly, and the change in wardrobe should help with that.
She was momentarily taken aback to see Lorcan grinning at her so broadly, but after one breathless second recovered and gave him a small smile full of pride, raising her chin at the world. She was going to do it right this time, none of the wind tunnel's tricks were going to fool her. That'd wipe his smile right off his face. “Ready,” she said. “Unless there's anything else I need to know this time?”
"We'll want to know about any differences between this time and last time," Susan said. Lorcan glanced at his notes, then shrugged. "Good luck?" he offered. He suspected that would make her raise her chin even higher, but it was sincere.
It should have made her raise her chin more - it nearly did. But as she was about to lift her head to haughty heights yet unknown to mankind (even if they were flying a Moontrimmer), it occurred to Corrie that Lorcan had helped her. He'd told her about the clothes in the closet, even though Susan forgot. He hadn't had to do that. And he hadn't sounded reluctant to do it, either.
Corrie hesitated, just long enough for a blush to once again burst across her face, and then she said, “Thanks,” in a voice just uncertain enough to be noticeable. Before he could respond, she whipped around and stalked back to the broom, which was again hovering in midair in the centre of the safe zone. Focus, she thought, pulling her goggles down to cover her eyes. Focus, she thought, pulling at the gloves she'd also found in the closet to make sure they were tight enough - but not too tight. Focus, she thought, reaching up to smooth down her hair one last time before she reached the broom and the start of the test.
She ran her hand slowly down the test broom when she reached it, as if she were trying to soothe an animal. The frequency was still odd somehow, but more familiar this time, like she was just on the verge of being able to understand what it meant. She climbed back onto the broom, took a slow, relaxing breath and let it out again for good measure, and leaned into the handle. “Ready, GO!” she shouted, and the winds began again.
Already Corrie felt more like herself - razor-sharp attentive and one with the broom, as she was used to, and it showed. It was much easier to think when she didn't have her nice clothes and hair blowing about. She didn't waste her time with fancy flying at the beginning now, steering straight and true to the waving grass at the very center of the tunnel. When the cross currents began, she leaned into and across them, still aiming the broom forward and inward. It seemed like this was just as much a test of how well she could figure out the broom as it was a test of her actual flying ability... well, time to see what she could figure out, then.
As the wind came whirling at her from the left, she gathered herself together and dropped, falling back a few feet but staying true and centered. You couldn't really dodge wind when you were on a broom, you were too much at its mercy to avoid it completely, but you could lessen its effects on you, and letting go didn't take up extra energy. As soon as she had power to spare, she jerked up again sharply, testing the wind, waiting to see what it would dish out next.
Her focus grew steadily more natural, and her flying not so stiff as before, more joyful and with a distinctly aerobatic flavour. There were broom tricks she did as Rumbleroar that she hadn't when she was actually playing, things that were for show or fun but still helped her explore the wind now. She had been working on her broom routine, and now felt like as good a time as any to use them. Up, left, twist, burst, roll, flip, turn, spin, right, dive, sudden stop - and as Corrie flew, she forgot her audience. The wind filled her mind, the illusion of the landscape filled her eyes. When the test ended this time, after she overestimated how long the wind would last and rushed past the boundary before she could correct herself, she didn't feel disappointed. She hardly remembered there was anything for her to be disappointed over, the ride left her so exhilarated.
Some of the watchers in the other corner spontaneously applauded as Corrie came to rest. Lorcan and Susan exchanged glances; Susan was trying not to smile, but Lorcan wasn't trying at all.. He'd written a few notes at the beginning, but after that he'd got caught up in watching; Corrie had looked different this time -- not quite so recognizable, but what was clear was that she'd grown.
"One of the best runs so far," Susan murmured to Lorcan, before waving Corrie over.
Lorcan nodded thoughtfully, watching Corrie. As she approached, he flashed her a grin and opened his mouth to say something, but then refrained. Equitable. And on second thought, telling her that her flying was gorgeous might be taken the wrong way anyway. And...
Susan said smoothly, not noticing Lorcan's momentary confusion, "That was well done, Ms. Pye. What can you tell us about your flight?"
Once she remembered her audience, Corrie couldn't help playing to them a bit, laughing as she stood and bowing theatrically. She couldn't stop smiling. That had been fun, and though she'd still fallen out of the safe zone, she felt like she'd done much better this time, and would have felt that even if she hadn't been treated to applause.
But the applause was nice too, of course. She was a performer, and a little (or a lot of!) recognition was always welcome.
She was too excited to return to her attempt at professional calm, and her words came out in an enthusiastic rush. “It was absolutely brilliant, and - okay, it felt smoother mostly, but there were times when it was a little jerky, kind of stop and go? And the tail was definitely dragging more this time, kind of low and to the right. Before it was mostly centered, more than I've ever seen a broom be, actually. But it felt more tame, it didn't try to take over this time!”
Lorcan checked through his notes, and then nodded to Susan. That was a reasonable description of how the broom ought to have been behaving after the adjustment. Susan nodded back, then asked Lorcan, "Do you have any questions you want to ask?"
Lorcan looked startled to be deferred to, but he did have a question. "Do you think someone who wasn't very good with brooms could ride this broom? Maybe not in high winds, but in general?"
The question surprised Corrie. “I... don't know,” she said honestly. She'd always been good with brooms, so it was hard to say what someone who wasn't would be capable of. And almost the whole test had been in high winds, so how was she supposed to compare it to someone normal flying in normal weather. “Maybe,” she said after she'd had a moment to think about it. “It was a lot smoother at the beginning, and when the wind wasn't going completely mad. But it was really hard to handle sometimes, so maybe not. I mean, maybe not unless you'd tweaked it a lot first.” She shook her head - she'd basically just contradicted herself, hadn't she? “The conditions you're asking for are completely different from what I went through, so I don't know how to even think about it. The frequency was tricky, but normal people probably wouldn't notice it, they might struggle with it dragging, but honestly you can't account for wind, you don't know when the weather's going to shift or for how long, so it'd need a lot of work before someone inexperienced could ride it, I think.”
Lorcan nodded at Corrie's conclusion. "That's basically what we thought," he said. He glanced at Susan, deferring back to her.
She straightened her notes and moved on to the closing portion of the interview. "Thanks for coming out today," she told Corrie. "We've enjoyed having you here, and I hope you've enjoyed the process. We'll be finishing up our interviews today, and running some final checks in the next few days, so it might take up to a week for you to hear from us if we do decide to go with you. If we do, we'd prefer to have you to start right away. Do you expect to be available to start then?"
“Yes!” Corrie said eagerly, and then seemed embarrassed at being so eager. She coughed, and tried to tone her reply to something more adult and mature, but there was still a glint of fire in her eyes. “As long as it doesn't conflict with my other job, but since that's pretty flexible, I should be able to make that work.” She brushed the hair out of her face with the hand that wasn't holding her goggles, and admitted with a grin, “It was fun.” Maybe it wasn't adult and mature to say that, but oh well.
"That's what we like to hear," Susan said, smiling back. She unobtrusively checked her watch, and added, "I'm afraid this has gone longer than I expected, I need to check to see if the next candidate has made it in. If you have any further questions, I'm sure Mr. Scamander will be happy to answer them for you, and I'll let him show you out." Lorcan glanced at Susan in surprise, then at Corrie with a shrug and a not-my-fault expression. He wasn't sure if she was still trying to ignore him or what, but however she felt, he wasn't sorry to have a few more moment to be bemused by Corrie's presence. Especially since the interview was over and he could quit thinking about equitable every moment.
“Oh!” Corrie looked at Susan in surprise too, and back at Lorcan. No, it wasn't his fault - and it wasn't a terrible thing, really, now that she'd proven herself to (or maybe at) him. “Okay. Just let me change back,” she said, and walked quickly back to the closet to get her things and return to normal. Her hair was less of a mess this time, but she still had to fix it into a more secure ponytail, and smooth out her trousers and do all the other normal little things you do when you want to look presentable for no particular reason. And she wanted a moment to herself to think up possible questions, too. That would show she was serious, and she didn't want there to be any doubt about that. Squinting at herself as best she could in the little mirror she'd brought - there wasn't anything better in the closet - she brushed a bit of dust off her face and thought, Professional. Serious. And walked back out of the closet with her bag on her shoulder and a confident smile on her face. “Okay, ready,” she said.
While Corrie changed, Lorcan pretended he was looking over his notes and tried not to think too much. Then he watched the people resetting the wind tunnel and tried to decide what working with Corrie would be like. Uncomfortable, if today was any indication, but today was the first time they'd seen each other in person; that was bound to be awkward.
Ever since they broke up, Lorcan had wistfully wished that they could be friends; that was why he kept sending Corrie Christmas cards. It had taken him coming back to Britain and actually talking to Corrie on the journals to make him question that idea. He'd started to doubt that he and Corrie had enough in common to be friends. It was a strange realization, because he'd never really thought that they hadn't been friends when they were going out, but thinking back, he wondered.
But working together would be something entirely different than friends or lovers. They'd have a project to work on, and Lorcan had worked with much stranger people over the years. But would a five year old broken relationship get in the way? Put that way, it seemed silly, but--
"Okay, ready," Corrie said from right in front of him, and Lorcan looked up with a start.
"Sorry, I was thinking," he said, and stuffed his notes -- which he'd been doodling all over -- into a folder like he was hiding something. He took a breath, then asked, "Did you have any questions?" He nodded toward Susan's abandoned seat, inviting her to sit down if she did have any.
Corrie's mouth felt suddenly dry, and her mind much emptier than it had a moment before. Thinking Professional and Serious at yourself was all well and good, but now that the situation was less... scripted, less clear-cut in what everyone was supposed to do and say, it was rather more difficult. But she tried - and twitched the corners of her mouth up in what she hoped still looked like an amused smile. “Well, what was that you hid, for starters,” she said, sitting in the vacant seat as comfortably as she could. She watched Lorcan's expression, trying not to look like she was watching him too closely. Trying to look perfectly at ease.
Stupid. She had done well in the test, even Susan had said so - and she had a feeling Susan didn't say things like that for no reason. She'd gotten applause, and it couldn't be everyone that managed that. But she wasn't sure it was possible to feel perfectly at ease in Lorcan's presence anymore. Too much had happened between them. But if they were going to work together...
Lorcan stared at Corrie blankly for a moment, not sure what she was talking about. "My notes?" he asked, and glanced down but they were indeed safely tucked away. Not that there was anything wrong with them, except as evidence for how distracted he'd been ever since Corrie showed up. He shook his head, a variety of responses running through his mind.
"Do you have any questions about the job or the interview process?" If they were going to work together, they'd have to work together. That question was work, and any other response would have been...something else. "You don't have to have questions," he added.
It was a joke. That's what Corrie wanted to say - it was a joke, didn't he know a joke when he saw it? But she didn't. If he wanted to be joyless when he was working, she supposed that was his business. And it hadn't gone over well when she'd pointed out her joking before. Her eyebrows flicked up, the corner of her mouth quirked as if she was saying, Well, if you want to be that way... and she said with a barely voiced sigh in her voice, “How long is it expected to last? Where are you going to be testing it, in the tunnel all the time? Why would you even want everyone to be able to use it? I thought it was a racing broom from the advert. And you know, from the fact that the interview was at Comet.” She had plenty of other questions in her mind, but somehow she thought they wouldn't be work-related enough for Lorcan. For a moment, earlier, he'd seemed himself again, or at least similar to how he had been. More familiar. It was hard for her to think of him as the boy she'd loved when he was so dead-set on sticking to business and business alone. But maybe that was the point, when it came to it.
And maybe she did have one more question. “And why did you have so many currents going at it? It makes sense to give it a good testing in the tunnel before you use it for real, if that's what you're doing, but it doesn't make any sense to sync it up to the wind if you're thinking of it as a test of the broom and not just the rider - you can't sync a broom up to a real wind outside. And it sounded like that broom-” she raised her finger and pointed sharply at the broom in the center of the tunnel, “-was supposed to be close to how the real broom was, and wasn't just set up to give me a good bucking.” With that, she sat back and folded her arms, looking at him with her head tilted and with an air of watching him from a distance. There, is that good enough for you? she thought.
Lorcan's mouth twitched; she certainly did have questions. Even if she seemed to be annoyed with him for no reason he could fathom. Did she go around asking everyone about things they were hiding? "It'll last until we get it to work well enough that anyone could ride it," he said. "Probably a couple of months at the least, if everything goes absolutely perfectly, but more likely six months to a year. Testing of the real broom won't be done in the tunnel, and it's not exactly a racing broom. I can't tell you what it is unless you're hired, but..." He grinned. "It's really pretty amazing. Almost as good as..." But that would be sort of obvious too. "Better than a racing broom?" he suggested.
Six months to a year. That was a long time - she hadn't expected quite that long. She might not be able to manage three jobs at once for that long, although you never knew, maybe she could - matches tended to be in the evening, after all, so that people with normal jobs could still go to and watch them.
It would also be a long time to be around Lorcan, even at far less than forty hours a week on a semi-flexible schedule. Corrie sucked in her lower lip and pressed it for a moment. Maybe everything would go absolutely perfectly. But probably not - it never seemed to, especially when that was all you wanted.
Not the time to think about that. She smiled, tilting her head at him in a much less standoffish way than before. “That's quite a claim,” she said. “There's not a lot better than a racing broom, unless it's a racing broom that will cook me dinner and trim its own twigs.”
"It'll probably be pretty irregular, depending on how long it takes to fix the problems that come up in the tests," Lorcan said apologetically, seeing that Corrie looked a bit daunted by the timeframe. "Actually, at one point the plan was to have a test flyer and a backup, but I don't know if the budget is still there for that. It probably depends on how all this goes."
He cocked his head to the side, considering dinner. "I don't think I'd trust a broom with dinner," he said. "And you'd probably call if sacrilege if I suggested a racing broom that could clean the kitchen? Even if it cleaned extremely fast?"
Corrie winced, and only half in jest. “Oh God, that would be awful,” she said, but she was laughing a little. “No, no cleaning for the racing brooms. I think the whole League would basically kill you for that one - and you'd pretty much deserve it.”
Lorcan shrugged. “Okay, I guess I'll cross that idea off of the list,” he said with mock regret.
She raised an eyebrow - was it okay for him to make jokes, then? And for her to make them as long as they fit with his? “Good plan. No one can hunt you down and make you pay like a Quidditch player.” Did that sound like a threat? Not wanting him to dwell on that, and not wanting to dwell on it herself, she gave a shrug as well, one-shouldered, and said, “But that's all I wanted to know about.” She would deal with the schedule, irregular or not, and any backup fliers that may or may not appear to complicate things if it came up. She hadn't been hired yet. She might never be.
She wasn't sure which she wanted, at this point.
"Sacrilege," Lorcan agreed, though he seemed a bit bemused. "If you have any other questions, especially about the timeframe, you probably ought to contact Susan," he said, and slipped a card out of his pocket to give to Corrie. It was Susan's card, not his. He waited a second to see if Corrie would respond to that and then stood up to show her out.
She took the card and slipped it into her bag without looking at it, or giving herself time to think about it, or to think about the fact that she wasn't thinking about it. It had been a long interview, and as Corrie followed Lorcan down the hall, it felt to her like it had been even longer. But she gathered her nearly-dry reserve of composure up and held it close to her. This wasn't over yet, though it was nearly - there was another minute or two to go, and you never knew what could still happen. She might need every speck of it yet.
As they walked down the hallway, Lorcan considered asking Corrie if she really wanted this job -- there were moments when he had doubted it, and not just because of how she responded to him -- but that wasn't something that an interviewer should ask, he was fairly sure. She wanted it enough to interview, and if she didn't want it enough to take it, it would still be better to offer if she was the best candidate. He was just trying to make things easier for himself. Or to presume on an idea of friendship that didn't exist.
Thinking about that, almost saying something a couple of times, Lorcan didn't say anything else as he led Corrie toward the exit, until he noticed the silence and said, to be saying something (and because it was true), "I think you have a good chance at this job." It might be a round-about way of asking the other question, he realized after he said it, but it was said, and Susan wasn't here to judge his equitableness. He wondered if Corrie was judging his equitableness.