Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Dynamo's Conversations (Featuring Apollo, Silver, Graves, Celeste, Doorman, Drifter, Venator, Victor, Vyper)

The professor paced around the hideout, scratching his non-existent beard as he looked at the Ixian in front of him. "You said you go to Blackmore Academy, right? How do you like it?"

Sitting on the couch with the distinct air of someone who was very much uncomfortable with furniture that did not accommodate tails, Apollo shrugged. "It's a good school, the teachers are competent and the study body well connected."

"Well, that's certainly more positive then what I expected you to say. Say, have you been to prom yet?" If he could, Dynamo would've raised an eyebrow, but the way he got closer to Apollo made it clear he was interested at the relatively positive answer that he received nonetheless.

Apollo groaned. "Prom doesn't further my goals."

"It's not about furthering your goals. It's about making memories you'll remember."

"I have my whole life to make memories, but my prime is right now and I can't waste it."

Apollo strode up to Dynamo and quietly, but firmly cleared his throat to get the man's attention. "I've heard you're a good teacher." 

The good teacher in question turned around, surprised, and gave a little laugh. "I like to think I am."

"Got any advice?"

He chuckled again. "Most students don't bother to ask me that question. They tend to think they uh, have it all figured out."

The Ixian made a face of displeasure. "Most teenagers are morons. I value experience."

Dynamo observed as Silver's tail went *fwump-fwump* behind her, slowly, like a pendulum, as she uncorked a bottle of whiskey and gave it a sniff.  "It must be fascinating, living as a werewolf in this day and age."

With a grunt, the lycan drank a good fourth of the bottle before responding. "It's less fascinating when it's your life."

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be rude."

"And yet you were," she sniffed derisively.

He wasn't expecting to see another Blackmore academy student in the hideout, but he supposed that if the teenagers in the ritual were going to be from anywhere, it was probably there. "Hey there kiddo, I don't suppose this is for extra credit?"

The necromancer lying on the plush sofa throwing darts at the painting frowned. "It's not."

Dynamo walked over and picked the darts out of the painting. "So why not focus on your studies then?"

"This seemed a little more important," Graves scowled, but stopped throwing darts.

A quiet day. Except for the summoning a god part. But that was business as usual for Dynamo, so he was more concerned about the teenager in front of him and her academic prospects than the other part. "You said you study necromancy. Do you uh, plan on branching out? Trying astrology maybe?"

The teenager was very interested. So interested, she wasn't even looking at the man. "I kinda just wanna focus on necromancy right now."

"Maybe Ixian Culture and Language? It's a very well paying field right now. If you take it to college, you could get a bachelor's and be making five figures very soon..."

Graves groaned loudly. Apollo would never let her live it down if he found out she was taking anything related to Ixia. He'd probably turn up his nose, call the teachers imbeciles, then offer to teach her himself because 'I could teach you better than any professor could at this academy.' "Are you a friend of my parents?"

"Nope! Just a concerned teacher who wants the best for you." 

She groaned even louder. "Ugh, for God's sake."

Celeste was juggling, somehow, five different devil sticks with one hand, the other futzing with the frill of her coat when she looked over at Dynamo and smiled. "Judging by the looks of the other people helping out the patron, I'm glad I'm with you."

Even in spite of a face, Dynamo's response was equally warm. "Feeling's mutual. It's hard to find someone around here summoning the patron for more..." he took a breath. "Mundane reasons."

"Us well-adjusted people need to stick together," she grinned.

"I can't believe a carnie is the newfound definition for well-adjusted. But yes."

Polite as ever, the Doorman walked over to the professor and bowed ever so slightly. "Professor, a little birdie told me you have an anniversary coming up."

At the mention of the anniversary, Dynamo beamed. "I do! 31 years with my lovely wife, Marla. I intend on getting my body back for our anniversary gift."

"Thoughtful to the extreme." 

"I wouldn't do anything less for her." 

"Most men would be terrified at what we're about to face, yet you seem remarkably composed," the Doorman noted as he stood, almost ramrod straight, at the entrance of the hideout.

The professor shrugged. "I am terrified. But my hope is greater then my fear."

The other man made an amused expression. "Ahh."

"What, did you expect me to truly be fearless? I'm hopeful, not stupid."

Dynamo craned his head up to look at the man they called the Drifter didn't sit, because sitting was the refuge of scared people. Instead, he clung to the ceiling and looked down, grinning with all his fanged teeth back at Dynamo. "Drifter, say, after all this, I might take you around Columbia for a tour."

Drifter gave a low chuckle. "Mighty kind of you, offering up your students like that. Appreciate it."

He shook his head. "I meant like, around campus. The school year hasn't started yet." 

The vampire frowned. "Significantly less entertaining, but still appreciated."

"See you got yourself a wedding ring, Professor?" The Drifter noted, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he crouched in the shadows of the hideout.

"I do."

"What's her name?" 

"Marla."

"Pretty name," he drawled. "You love her?"

Dynamo's eyes narrowed. "I'd die for her."

Drifter laughed, all wolfish and hungry. "No, Professor. Fail today, and she'll die for you."

"Hey, not to be rude or anything and assume you know all Catholics, but have you uh, ever seen a kind of scraggly looking priest around before? Looks kind of like he's stepped into something he shouldn't have, kind of lanky..." Dynamo went on at length to the grizzled Venator, who was sharpening his stakes with the blade of a ornate knife. 

"Ah, Father Julian," the Venator nodded. 

"Yes! How is he?" 

The Venator gave a wave of the knife offhandedly. "Possessed currently, but you know Julian."

Dynamo looked at the Venator, and a thought came over him. "Say, Father, have you ever considered auditing an "The Dangers of Deals with Devils" course at Columbia? I think you'd be perfectly fit for it."

With a disappointed expression, the Venator sighed. "You need to have a class to explain to people," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "that making a deal with the devil is a bad idea?"

He shrugged. "A lot of students do it, so we implemented it."

The man they called Father Quinn Rourke exhaled deeply through his nose. "Higher education has failed." 

For a dead man, Victor was pretty forward when it came to interacting with others. He had already said hello to everyone in the hideout, including the professor with whom he was talking with. "A word of warning, Professor. I tend to find myself in the thick of things."

The professor pat his metallic frame affectionately. "Don't worry, this bad boy survived an Astral Gate."

"I think we're gonna get along just fine."

"Professor, where do you teach?"

Dynamo turned to look at the cadaver-man. "Columbia! Best university in the area."

"Do they have a medical program?"

"Yeah, we do. It's pretty extensive."

Victor's curiosity got the better of him. "Where do they get their cadavers?"

At this, he paused. "Uh, I'm afraid I don't really know, but I could try and ask..."

Victor looked pitiful and desperate in equal measure. "Where?" 

The two of them looked out at the teleportation circle inscribed in the center of the hideout. "You ready for this, Victor?"

He nodded stoically. "I'm ready to destroy my body in order to win."

"I was expecting something like 'I'm feeling pretty confident', not, y'know," the professor inhaled. "That."

"That's probably wiser."

With a thoughtful hum, Vyper sat up with the energy of a woman with a fantastic new idea. "Hey Professor, can I uh, audit one of your classes?"

Woken from his slumber by the sudden address, Dynamo turned to look at her. "I didn't realize you were the teaching type."

Vyper rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm not. I just wanted to move product to your students."

"No can do, sorry. My students are hard enough to manage as is."

"I get it. I just wanted to be respectful."

"Hey, listen, by the way, I'm not trying to make this weird or anything, but you smell like key lime pie," she crawled over uncomfortably close to Dynamo, flicking her tongue at him. 

"My wife makes key lime pie all the time, and so y'know, end up smelling like the stuff..."

Vyper's eyes widened as she gave a half smile. "Oh my God, that's like the sweetest thing ever. Okay, really quick, another question. She knows you don't have a mouth, so you can't eat the pie, right?"