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Mr. MacKenzie's Office https://i.postimg.cc/FsGkTn06/macken...ice-banner.jpg In the Bell Tower Courtyard one can find the office of Mr. MacKenzie. The outside of the Flying instructor's private space is nothing out of the ordinary. A gold nameplate, reading the man's name and position at the school, rests on the door, and two identical leather armchairs are positioned on either side of it with accompanying side tables containing an array of Quidditch magazines. A simple knock will be enough to get the man's attention, though one will have to make use of the chairs if he happens to not be on the other side of the door. |
Patrick had annoyingly clunked his way up the tower to Mr. MacKenzie’s office. He felt a bit winded but wouldn’t anyone walking that many steps. He really regretted not trying to fly up the tower to get there but figured that would be some sort of rule. Violation and he for certain did not want to be the person who lost his badge after starting school again. Rolling his eyes and raising his hand he rasped his knuckles on the door three times. He wasn’t sure this was necessary but he figured he should at least return the badge he formerly had or talk to the professor about his booted foot for flying lessons cause his balance was still off. Curse his parents rules. Sure he was used to them but now he regretted them, and his actions during that game. He waited patiently for the door to open. |
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Parchment was strewn about the desk. Some of it mindless paperwork for the Magpies that he had set aside for the time being. At that moment he had taken the liberty to respond to some fan mail. In fact, he was on the verge of slapping on his signature when he heard three knocks on the door. Who in the world was interrupting his precious time responding to fan mail? If it was one of those uppity colleagues, he was not going to be happy about it. After swinging the door open, the man sighed with relief. Thank Merlin it was a student and not someone else. "Hello, Mr. ..." Colin trailed off. He was still learning names, which was a huge task now that all of the students were there and he had yet to get the names of the staff right. "What brings you to my office this fine day? I was just in the middle of responding to some fan mail. ... Do you want to come in and have a seat?" The man had noticed the boot the lad was sporting. |
Patrick saw Professor Mackenzie...? He wasn’t sure why he was talking about fan mail. Was he famous or something? Either way that wasn’t why he was there. Nodding his head and lifting the clunky boot he spoke up, “Thank you a seat would be great. Patrick Dooley by the way.” He figured as he was new and all that he hadn’t learned many of the students names yet. He figured supplying his name would help him out. He allowed himself to sit in the chair opposite the desk and glanced down at all the fan mail. Now he felt really bad that he didn’t know him for what he was apparently famous for. “Thanks. I just wanted to swing by to talk to you about quidditch.” Well duh. But he figured he should at least state his purpose. Rubbing his hands up and down his pant legs he tried to keep himself calm. ”I wanted to talk about possibly getting some help outside of class to work on my balance and stuff after I get this boot off. Unfortunately, my parents won’t let me see a healer so here I am... stuck with this boot for the time being.” He really wanted to ensure that maybe just maybe he could make the team next year for his final year and get a chance at professional. ”I also didn’t know if I needed to return my captain badge or not....” he trailed off not too thrilled that he had to step down because of his foot. |
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Dooley. Patrick Dooley. It certainly sounded familiar, but it clearly wasn't obvious enough. Not when the man had other things to keep tabs on. There were times he couldn't even get the names of the people that worked for the team he owned right. The fan mail remained out in the open. MacKenzie made no effort to hide any of it, just like he made no effort at all to be humble about his past achievements preserved by the items spread about the room. But, as of this moment, he was focused on Dooley. Not to mention he was curious about that boot of his. It was ... not something one saw on a regular basis. "Well, ye've come to the right place," he stated, a couple chuckles escaping his mouth when Patrick announced that he was there to talk Quidditch. But the chuckling came to a quick end when the boot was mentioned in additional to the Captain badge. So that was where the original one had been... "Afraid ye'll be needin' to turn that in, lad," Colin responded with a small nod. "The current captain, Jack Byrne, is eager to have his hands on the actual badge rather than the substitute he has at the moment..." The man trailed off. He didn't need to go into detail about all the fuss Byrne had caused. "As for when ye get yer boot off, yeah, we can definitely set aside some time to work on that. I know how time-consuming and difficult recovery needed to get back to normal post-injury can be. Back in '74 a blow to me arm is what ended my Keeper days..." Again, he trailed off. "So what happened to ye foot?" |
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His eyes trailed over the piles of fan mail, he would absolutely hate to have to deal with that kind of stuff. It seemed tedious and absolutely annoying to have to deal with that kind of tasks just because people recognized you and maybe looked up to you. But then he supposed that it was similar to all the new students coming to talk to him at the new year each term. A large sigh escaped his lips as he handed over the badge, “I guess it was a long shot that I’d get to keep it.” However, a very hearty laugh escaped, he had met Byrne and knew he was a bit of a whiner. “Thanks, I really appreciate you taking the time out of your extremely busy schedule to help me get back to where I woulda been at had this not happened.” Oh no he hated having to tell people why he had a muggle method of healing instead of a wizard method. “I was playing baseball, muggle sport. I’ve played since before I came here and decided that I wanted to keep playing each summer. Well slid into home,” he wasn’t sure if he needed to explain that home was the way you scored. “My parents have always said that if you get hurt in muggle means you have to heal in muggle ways. So no healer to fix this faster.” He thought about sneaking to the healer but his parents would know. He knew it.[/b] |
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He quietly listened as the boy thanked him for agreeing to help him. A quick glance down at his fan mail was made at the mention of his busy schedule. Busy ... riiiiiiight. Colin nodded his head, adjusting how he was sitting in his seat just a bit so that he was comfortable. It was just a shame that Patrick couldn't exactly do the same, not with that clunker over his foot. "Not a problem, not a problem. I mean, who else would be better to help ye out?" As soon as he finished his sentence, the word 'Healer' popped into his mind. However, he quickly shook that thought away. If the boy wanted his help over that batty woman, then there was nothing more to say on the matter. A look of confusion then appeared on the Flying instructor's face. Baseball? Slid into home? Though he was half-blood, these terms didn't make a whole lot of sense to him. If the sport wasn't like Quidditch, he honestly could not relate. The look on his face did lessen a bit when it was mentioned that baseball was a Muggle sport and the conversation shifted over to the method of healing. Letting the baseball talk just pass by, Colin then replied, "That is a," -- cue a pause -- "different approach to matters of healing. I know I meself would prefer the magical way to get it over with. But if the Muggle way is yer parents' wish, then I'spose we'll all have to respect that." |
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He watched as MacKenzie adjusted in his seat. He longed for the days where he could comfortably sit in his seat again. It was becoming a bit of a pain in the rear to not be able to do all the things he used to do. Sadly he was mostly used to it at this point.[b] “That was exactly my thoughts. It’d be great to get myself back on a broom and get my skills back up to where they used to be. Nodding along to the second comment he was glad that he didn’t say his parents were nuts. “Thanks. If it had been a quidditch accident maybe the would have let me see a healer.” Shrugging he figured he would let him get back to his business. Raising up on his boot first then his shoe standing to his full height. “Again, thanks for talking to me and calming me down. I appreciate it, I figure you have things to do so I’ll let you get to it.” |
Józef approached the Flying Professor and absolute LEGEND's office with no less confidence than he approached his dorm. Even though he was still a little jittery inside, he was trying not to let it show: yes, they'd won their last match, but not because of any particular great action on his part. He'd never admit it to anyone, but it was a little disheartening. And that was why he was here, knocking on THE Colin MacKenzie's door. Because if ANYONE could give him some tips it was him, right? |
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