the most high

"I think you misunderstand, I'm not referring to the city's finances, it's the financial constraints that something like college tuition puts on families. Unfortunately, that's more of a personal problem for a lot of them, and each case is different," While the school could certainly use more money too, the matter Elinor was arguing was more of a social issue with helping young people believe in their own city.

Honestly, Elinor didn't think they would even get this far They're surprised Zander hasn't cut them off yet. This is good though, it's exactly what they prepared for.

"So, if the economic issues of our student's families can't be helped in the short term, I can imagine a few options helping the students we have in our senior classes going forward. For one thing, a scholarship fund is something that's hasn't been a possibility in decades and would certainly provide some financial relief. But if that's too big of an ask, I would love to think of options for reinstating hard skill classes, like home repairs or garage work. We don't even have the career skills curriculum, or frankly, the time to teach things like resume building and interview skills."

Despite his request that they be frank with him, in his eyes, it almost seems that they are still reluctant to speak in his presence. That they believe that simply because he holds all of the power and authority that he does, he will dismiss them out of hand — and they are not entirely wrong to be reticent because he might have, had they not made a compelling enough case as to why he should continue to listen to what they have to say.

A scholarship fund. Now that can be easily arranged by a man of his means, but what did they have in mind, exactly?

A more generous sum for the few in the form of a merit grant for only those select students who prove themselves gifted enough to earn the town’s support? A lesser sum for the many, in the form of a stipend for each and every student who graduates from the local high schools, so long as they commit themselves to the continued pursuit of their education or professionalization, in whatever form that takes for them? Something else entirely?

“I would like to hear more about your scholarship idea. Reiterating, once more, that this is under the assumption that money is no object of concern as to this plan of yours, how would you see that implemented? What safeguards would you put in place to ensure that the most students become successful and these funds are not misappropriated or misused?”

@spendfcrever

Despite it all, Harriet smiles. Goddamn him.

"Because I love ruining dates so much, of course," Harriet raises her own coffee to her lips, mirroring him.

It does hurt, truly, to know his eldest was conceived ( or perhaps born? She's fuzzy on the details ) somewhere in the same timeframe a young Harriet was excitedly dating her first real boyfriend, having her first real relationship. It was an ancient history now, however time hadn't so much "healed" the wound as it had smoothed it over, like a rock that has been beaten over by waves and slowly eroded into a new shape. Technically speaking, perhaps there was no physical cheating at all depending on the exact times and places conversations, commitments, kisses, and other actions took place. But who could even remember the exact dates those took place on years after the fact?

And even if they could, Zander wouldn't be the one to own up to it all. That ambiguity brings up a more nebulous side of infidelity then, of omissions and emotions. Things that can't be tracked on an exact schedule like birth dates and first times. Moreso than knowing precisely when his first child was conceived, Harriet finds herself curious about the omission aspect of it all, the hiding and secrecy, and how much of it Zander knew it would hurt her. Well, would've hurt her, back when it mattered.

In little ways, it does matter now too, though. If he wants to have a pleasant brunch, that is. They'll have to play the honesty game a little longer.

"Fine," Her cup clicks back onto the table, "I don't know the exact answer though." And wouldn't he give her anything her heart desired?

“Naturally,” he agrees, his voice almost playful as he gently lowers his cup back onto the table, amused by her choice to try and bring a semblance of levity back to the conversation after having initially spoiled the easy atmosphere of their encounter, only for that same levity to be quickly dispelled once more as she insists upon questioning him further about his past.

Why? What does she aim to gain from this, really? What does she expect of him? Knowledge can be a curse as much as it can be a blessing and, try as he may, he cannot think of what good could ever possibly come from her unearthing the truth of what his involvement with his wife may or may not have been more than two decades ago, before the birth of his son. All knowing about it would do would be to hurt her — to break her heart, mortify her pride and risk shattering the idealized view of what their past had been together he knows she holds, so why not simply let the sand at the bottom of the river lie rather than stirring it up and live in the blissful ignorance he had afforded her by keeping his affairs to himself?

“I know you don’t. I never intended for you to.” This admission, now, is one that comes easily to him. There is no need, he feels, to play coy around that. If he had meant for her to know any more than what she does, he would have told her so himself.

Still, he has to give her something. Zander can’t not give her something.

Crossing one leg over the other, he pretends at struggling to recall the exact timeline before continuing.

“My eldest was born in the spring of the year you and I graduated and moved away to pursue our education.”

What he leaves unsaid, of course, is that for his first son to have been born then, whatever had happened between himself and his mother had to have taken place in the year preceding that, their final year of high-school — but he trusts in her intellect enough to know she would surmise that much for herself.

It’s a concession, small as it may be so as to not further incriminate himself. Only just enough to give her a semblance of this timeline she seems so intent on determining — for the better or for the worse.

@theafterglcw

Which is why when Zander had shot her a text saying that there was something they needed to discuss, leaving her to decide the time and place, she was all too ready to leap in and see what he had to offer her. Because this man never met up like this for personal affairs. No, this was all business. She'd decided on one of her bars with less foot-traffic. In the early afternoon, before opening hours, in the middle of the week. Both to be kind to his schedule which ran near complete opposite to her night-life focused one, and to be kind to their need for privacy. No prying eyes or ears afoot.

They'd known one another long enough to fall into a sort of rhythm every time they met. Despite setting a time and place, he would arrive a little bit early, and she would meet him out front at his car. And they would waste time chitchatting on the street about silly trivial matters, until it came time to actually do business, during which they would walk inside, still chitchatting about trivial matters.

She shoulders her way in through the door, a laugh on her lips as she speaks, a joke where she's not actually joking, "Zander, you don't behave like a divorcee. You behave like a temporarily embarrassed married man."

Most of those trivial matters, of course, being Antonia prying into his love life at any given opportunity. And attempting to embarrass him terribly.

"Now what's this you need to talk to me about, hm?"

Their routine was smooth by now, almost second nature after more than a decade working alongside each other. Practiced. No sooner had his driver opened the door for him to step out of the car than she was standing by his door, ready to welcome him inside her domain.

They speak first of pleasantries, how-do-you-dos and empty small talk, as politeness demands, but there is an ease to it. A comfortable atmosphere which is soured, at once, the second he hears her say what she does as she pushes the door open for them, his light expression darkening into a stormy and angry one.

A temporarily embarrassed married man? How dare she?

Zander Olympios is not a man to be easily embarrassed or flustered, but he is a man who is easily angered — and she of all people should know better than to test that legendary temper of his with the one topic she is well aware that he does not wish to openly discuss.

At first, he laughs as he closes the door behind them — but as any two people as well versed with one another’s company as they are should, he knows that she will detect that he is laughing only from how displeased he is.

“I had come here today to generously share with you the opportunity to invest in a new business venture and save face after that disaster at Nauticus, and this is how you repay my kindness? I have half a mind to leave you out of it entirely, now.”

@thegoddessoflovegc

It was obvious to most that this was a natural course of events ever since Hades had made more allowances for his good buddy Hook. Zander wouldn't be having any of that, and Leticia was simply an extension of the power to keep the town strong in the face of strain.

Oh, this was going to be fun!

"Heeeeey, bossman," Leticia tried to keep her pep under wraps, cool as a cucumber when under immense pressure, "What do we think about getting a few contingency plans for the school lunch supplies, take a helping hand from the next city over?"

Leticia Moirai had been someone whose career had first started under his long tenure as the mayor — and someone whom he had been more than happy to keep by his side as she proved herself loyal, forward-thinking and capable in a crisis time and time again. Someone whom he had bolstered into the position she now holds due in no small part to that, as her achievements piled higher and higher. A deserving and just reward for a deserving and just young woman.

As always, when she comes to him, he expects that she will bring a matter worthy of his notice to his door — and he is not disappointed in the slightest, when she says her piece.

“And I take it you have thoughts as to what these contingency plans are, do you not? Enlighten me. What do you have in mind?”

@allxtted

She hummed. Usually, people were out working so the park was pretty quiet ‘cept for the few stragglers which… included her boss? Well, the head of the council.

Blinking, she slowed down some. Is that an eagle?? Holy shit? And suddenly anything else she had going on was put on the back burner. Not that there was much to begin with.

“Heyyyy, boss, cool eagle. Didn’t know you were into falconry.”

The peak of the small game hunting season was coming to an end and, as such, he wished to indulge himself and his companion for as long as he can afford to. They had been here since early in the afternoon and, already, the bag that holds their prizes was heavy with the weight of cottontail rabbits and the rare, occasional hare.

An unexpected approaches them just as Zander recalls his hunting partner from a nearby tree, raising his fist and bracing himself for the impact as the large bird of prey swoops down towards him, perching upon his gloved arm and swallowing the shred of meat he had held between his fingers as a positive reinforcement for good behavior.

“Mercury,” he greets with an incline of his head, an acknowledgement of her presence. The golden eagle at his fist screeches at the sound of his voice, shifting his weight back and forth on his master’s glove as he fixes the stranger with his unflinching hazel stare.

“I am. I have been a falconer since before you were born, I imagine. This is Caesar. Caesar, Mercury.”

@favouritemessenger

When she'd learned of his divorce years later, she was still happily married all the way in California. It was a little sad to hear about, but she honestly hadn't kept up with him and his relationships for a long time ( aside from the rampant rumors of kids popping up left and right with his surname ). They spent more and more time talking then, late nights on the phone, reconnecting, helping each other through the loneliness... And when Harriet's life fell apart, it was only natural that she come right back to his side, his city.

They were not "dating". The redhead did not have time for that. Six years ago, she'd had a baby on her hip and tabloids to avoid that wanted to paint her in all sorts of nasty lights. The last thing she needed was for anyone to find out she had an ex boyfriend waiting for her in Godscobh while her ex-husband married his mistress.

The years passed and things died down. Zander asked her for coffee, then dinner, then outings, weekends together, spending the night... She'd always politely maintained she had to get home to her daughters in response to that last one, but the offer was appreciated. They could not return to the young lovers they once were, but a Valentine's brunch did seem quite obvious and natural after all this time. Zander did bring her flowers, of course, and he didn't even have to ask which kinds she liked at this point. There was an ease to it, even if they did bicker about what restaurant to go to.

Having given him more of her time in recent years ( the girls were old enough to be at home with a babysitter for a few hours ), Harriet allowed these casual outings, the setting of a romantic mood. She'd even met a few of his kids, since he's met hers. Except his were nearly adults, now weren't they? He had a lot of them. No judgements, of course, on the exact number, but Harriet wasn't stupid. A woman in her position was allowed to ask questions.

In the delicate daylight of the adorable little brunch spot a few blocks down from her house, it strikes Harriet that this isn't the time and place for the topic that's been eating at her. But Harriet isn't a woman who minces words. She has to know now.

"Did you ever cheat on me when we were together?"

@kingoftheskiesgc

Zander knows better than to ask what is bothering her now, as he returns to his seat in the aftermath of stepping away momentarily to answer a sudden and urgent phone call. Whatever Harriet means to say to him, she will always say it — all he needs to do about it is to lean back upon his chair, an eyebrow absently raised in expectation, and wait.

When she finally does ask him what had been so visibly eating away at her in his absence, he almost smiles. Almost.

To him, the memory of their youth and of the relationship they had once had, if he can even call what they had a relationship at all, is colored by the perception he has of that time in his life — a time where he had been held back and constrained by his father’s authority, his wings clipped and the thought of his freedom still a distant ambition. It had always been their families’ intentions to set them up with one another as an advantageous match and, regardless of how they may have felt about one another in their hearts, it was one thing to choose to be together, and another thing entirely to have that choice foisted upon them.

In all honesty, when she had informed him of her decision to put an end to their relationship shortly after they had moved in pursuit of higher education, it had come to him as a relief, which is why he had accepted the break-up so readily. Why wouldn’t he? Their lives clearly appeared to be heading in opposing directions, and they were no longer beholden to the wishes and plans of their parents. By the time he heard, years later, that she had married someone else in sunny California, he was not surprised in the least to find how little the news bothered him, being already married himself at that point, with two young children of his own — the eldest of which had been conceived during the early years of his involvement with Harriet, with the woman who would go on to become his wife of more than a decade.

But had it been a relationship, really, or an obligation?

Slowly, he crosses one leg over the other as he thinks and reaches for his cup, bringing it to his lips and taking a long, deliberate sip.

Even if his wife had already moved back to New York City with their children by the time Harriet returned to his town, there was no doubt in his mind that she had heard much about them. They had been the ruling family of Godscobh for so many years, after all — The mayor, his first lady, and their four children. Surely she has done the math, by now, on their ages. Her question is, then, nothing more than an attempt to get him to admit it.

...Did she really think it was going to be that easy?

"Why ask me a question you already know the answer to?"

@theafterglcw

Getting a meeting with the city was... actually pretty surprising. As usual, their first couple letters went unanswered, but then Ms. Moirai was putting them in touch and suddenly a calendar event was created just for them to get clearance to meet with the big man himself. Well, not the big man anymore, so they say. Mr. Olympios had stepped down in recent years, but he was certainly the highest position that had ever given Elinor the time of day.

"So you see, it's becoming harder for a lot of students to believe that even something like a trade school is within possibility, primarily due to the financial constraints and the accessibility of training. We don't have the money for shop classes like welding or plumbing here, and we don't have the busses to take student out of the city to other schools. It's really becoming a problem on the emotional level for students, who don't believe they have options in life after graduation if they don't have money, lodging, or transportation."

@kingoftheskiesgc

Lo and behold, he had been correct in his assumption.

Their earnest concern was, if nothing else, understandable. This was a long-standing issue, one he is well aware of, and fortunately for them, one that is near to his heart as a man with school-aged children, himself. Their once great schools had fallen into much disrepair over the years, and slipped into a precariousness far beneath what a town like his deserves. Perhaps the time had come for him to correct that.

“Financial constraints, is it?” Zander muses once they finish their line of thinking, lacing his fingers together as he leans forward in his seat. It is immediately apparent to him that this is an issue that can be easily resolved with nary an opening of his checkbook and a flick of his pen — but he stays his hand, for now.

“If you would indulge me for a moment, teacher, then be frank with me: What would you, as an educator and an idealist, as someone who is closest to the heart of the matter and can see the disenfranchisement of our youth first-hand, do to solve this problem? What concrete steps would you have me take? What measures would you wish to see put in place for the benefit of your students, if money were no object?”

@spendfcrever