Closed Breaking the Sound Barrier

[Saul Forrester]

The only reason Saul was physically capable of getting up early enough to meet the Gisborne Gecko's for practice was because the sooner he stopped sleeping, the sooner he stopped dreaming of her, and the sooner he got to work, the sooner he stopped thinking about her. Realistically, he couldn't very well still be in love (surely), because that would just be pathetic, after nearly ten years divorced and a sham of a marriage to begin with (that his mother still had yet to forgive him for), but his way of confronting that little mental glitch was to stoically ignore it, maybe having a few extra drinks down at the local like every good Irishman, and then letting it ruin his life.​

It was half the reason he was so slow in moving up in his career, after years of pissing about as a bartender, a tour guide, a theme park attendant and finally sports reporting in the local rag. These were all perfectly respectable jobs to hold, particularly for a single guy living with roommates, but it was a far cry from his original dream to be a quidditch announcer, and whilst Carlotta's familial influence could have jettisoned him along much faster and much further down that path than he could have done on his own, he was loathe to ride off his ex-wife's coat tails, kindly meant as it was (well, at least from Carlotta it would have been kindly meant). Now Saul was firmly on his way, running the announcements for the local amateur leagues and making a small name for himself, but this job was a game of contacts, so wherever the up and coming stars were, that was where Saul was, right alongside the coaches and donating his time and money to all the leagues he could reach on his own broom.​

Feeling bad tempered after another crummy night's sleep, Saul had to keep pushing back his hair because the gel wouldn't stick, and his shirt and trousers had gone unironed. It wasn't a good look, which turned out not to matter at all, since apparently the entire pitch was undergoing reconstructions, which nobody had seen fit to mention to him. It was definitely his fault for not knowing, but today it was everybody else's fault.​

"Load of feckin' gobshites. Not even a bloody owl!" Saul steamed, ceasing trying to fix his tie and letting it sit askew on his neck as he slowed his jog to a skid and glared in personal disapproval at the goings-on around the pitch. "Bet they're down at the pub." Never mind that it was eight am.​

@Arthur Wilkes

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

Arthur P. Wilkes had recently immigrated to New Zealand under a new contract with his employer and he was grateful for the change of pace. The thirty-one year old was by no means against working hard, but he had been working hard none stop since graduating from Hogwarts Scotland, and the former Hufflepuff wanted a holiday, and a new project. Theatres were his specialty, but he had dabbled in the use of a sonorous charm in an open-top pitch enough to confidently take the assignment and oversee the improvements personally. The acoustic architect had a copy of his drawn schematics printed neatly on his clipboard as a reference whilst he surveyed the area in a fitted suit and workman's boots that looked far too clean. ​

​

"Mister Brown!" the Cardiff-born man called, interrupting the foreman from his date with a jam-filled donut. He tried to make up for the interruption by wearing an earnest smile. "I wanted to ensure that you had everything you needed in order to install the new seating?" Improving a poorly designed structure whilst maintaining the integrity of the old pitch was quite a task, and seeing as the lovely foreman couldn't hear the difference between a sonorous charm reverberating off of ply wood or hardwood, Arthur knew it was entirely up to him to ensure the success of this project. His earnest smile soon became a reassured grin as Mister Brown declared that everything was going according to plan, and whilst Arthur trusted the foreman implicitly, he declined to take up his offer of having a donut and continued to wander the site.​

​

It was on his third inspection that Arthur heard what sounded like a rather angry Irishman on the premises. The area was a closed site, which had been communicated to all employees and regular visitors (or so he thought), but they had had an interruption earlier that morning when an older witch had thought that she could wander through if she were very careful. Arthur had politely escorted her to her flat on the other side of the pitch. The man looked incredibly tired, so Arthur decided that the best course of action was just to say hello and see if he needed to be somewhere else.​

​

"Good morning, Sir," Arthur greeted, extending his hand for Saul to shake. "I'm Arthur Wilkes, the architect of this site. Can I help you?"​

 

[Saul Forrester]

It was too bloody early to be staring at a face that bright. Saul found himself squinting at the other man's smile, unable to bear the nauseating sparkles, and reached out instinctively in return to grasp the Englishman's hand in a confident handshake that didn't match his disgruntled expression.​

​

"Saul, not Sir," the quidditch announcer corrected, not unkindly. "And maybe you can tell me why the bloody hell I wasn't notified that the site was shut." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel a phantom pain on the back of his head that was his mother's hand for all his bad language. "I thought contractors were supposed to get a head's up about this sort of thing. Where are the Gecko's at? Did they get shafted off to Kereone Park?"​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

Arthur opened his mouth to respond to the correction directly, but it seemed that Saul had a more pressing issue to mention to him. Whilst the architect had a list of all part time and full time employees, he did not have lists for casual and contract workers, which explained why he didn't recognise his name. That didn't explain why he had not been informed of the site closure, however, as letters had been sent out a week ago to avoid this very scenario from happening.​

​

"I'm terribly sorry, Saul. You should have been notified by owl a little over a week ago," Arthur empathised, releasing the other man's hand and making a note of the incident on his clipboard. "I'll look into what went wrong so that it won't happen again. As far as I know, the players were considering Kereone Park for now, though they may have found somewhere else to congregate. Did you need anything from the site? The lockers and back rooms are still accessible."​

 

[Saul Forrester]

"Ahhh..." Saul hemmed, letting out a sigh. "Nnnno, not as such. I needed the players." Well, that was flattering. Apparently the architect had no idea who he was at all. At least he'd stopped smiling; Saul was getting a headache. "I'm the announcer, so if the pitch is down then there's really nothing for me here, and probably won't be even at Kereone except for a bit of a catch-up with the team. This is a real co- er, stuff up," Saul continued, cutting himself off slightly sheepishly. Something about Arthur made it more difficult to swear around him. The announcer disliked him already just on principle.​

"Look, this is a big problem, because if I've got a contract to do X amount of work for X amount of months and I can't do it while the site's closed, I don't get paid, so I have to find out if I'm sh*t out of luck or if the league's in breach of contract, especially with the lack of notification." Maybe too much information, but even tired, Saul was chatty. The brunette scratched the back of his head tiredly, then hurriedly wiped away the sticky, un-dried gel from his fingers onto the back of his trousers. "You're the not the site manager, are you? Can you tell me who they are and where I can find them?" He had the strangest feeling that this Arthur would know exactly where they were, even if they were over the other side of the pitch and they hadn't even met for the morning. Come to think, it was a little odd that the architect was hanging around at this time of the morning, apparently greeting stragglers into the construction zone. Didn't he have better things to do?​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

It seemed that it was Arthur's lucky day. The architect had an incredible ear and knew how sound would function in the space, but that didn't mean he would give up the opportunity of hearing the actual announcer speaking on the site. The site wasn't at a stage where it would be impossible to make adjustments, after all, and Arthur preferred to work with the people that would be using his structures, not just the numbers he came up with. His smile was back just when Saul was glad to see it gone, and it was brighter than ever.​

​

"Mister Brown is currently on a break," the architect explained kindly. Mister Brown appeared to enjoy many breaks, but at the end of the day, he kept the site functioning, so Arthur accepted the man's unique work schedule. "However, as the announcer, I would love for you to test the space for me. I'm an architectural acoustics consultant, which means that my job is to make sure that you can be heard clearly by everyone who wants to hear you. Could you spare a moment, before I take you to mister Brown?"​

 

[Saul Forrester]

The architecturally-accustomed-what now? Saul tried to look unimpressed with Arthur's request and not at all inclined to accept, but he only managed to look slightly stupefied at being asked. He'd just said he probably wasn't getting paid for this, so why the hell would he stick around? Annoyingly, the Englishman had piqued his curiosity, and Saul felt an unwilling bubble of interest well in him that he didn't have the strength at that moment to quash. ​

​

Saul reached up to rub his temple and furrowed his brow at Arthur in incredulity. "Okay, hang on, so the site manager's name is Mister Brown and he's on a break ... at eight-" Saul looked at his watch, "-twenty-two in the morning? Wait, never mind that, I thought you said you were an architect." Wait, never mind that. He was too tired for this. He made the mistake of making eye contract with Arthur, though, and his shoulders slumped before he even realised he'd given up; such was the power of an earnest man. "What do you need?" Saul asked, a note in his voice making it clear that he'd already accepted.​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

Mister Brown was a man with a unique idea of when breaks were appropriate, but the work site had opened at 5:30. Whilst Arthur wasn't one to need a break so early in the work day, he couldn't begrudge Mister Brown his donut when he always finished with time to spare and had thus far done an incredible job. "Mister Brown likes a morning donut, and I am an architect," Arthur clarified, seeing as Saul seemed to be asking quite a few questions. When it came to his role in building design, in particular, eyebrows tended to go up in confusion, particularly if he tried to explain that he wasn't just a consultant, he was an architectural acoustic engineer who worked as a consultant.​

​

"I'll explain whilst we walk," Arthur replied, inclining his head to have Saul follow him through the site. "Basically, all I need you to do is test the site. Just pretend that you're at a game and I will see how your voice travels in the structure. It's very simple - all you need to do is be yourself!"​

 

[Saul Forrester]

Quite despite himself, Saul smiled at Arthur's reassurance and angled his head a bit so that it was harder for Arthur to see. He didn't know why he was being such a sook about being cheered up today, especially when he was being diverted and his work situation had yet to be fixed, but he had to admit that the other man's energy was irrepressible. He was forced to follow along in the architect's wake, and found himself trying to fix his tie behind Arthur's back and put his hair back in order, just so that he wouldn't be shown up when standing next to the guy.​

"I'm glad I can help, but what do you need me for?" Saul asked, stepping up finally to walk beside him. "I'm sure that, when it's done, everything will be just fine, and any old bloke can use a Sonorous." Not that he was trying to sell himself short, or anything. He wasn't exactly furniture. He still couldn't quite figure Arthur out, either; this wasn't a stadium, and he was clearly a higher level professional working on this little backwater communal quidditch pitch. What the hell did the Geckos need an architectural acoustics consultant for?​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

As more of the work site was revealed, it became clear that there were some additional structuring going up and there were changes to the seating seating plan, but otherwise, there wasn't much that seemed to require the architect to have to remain in order to supervise. Arthur was used to more stressful work, and whilst he suspected that the foreman just wished he would go and buzz around someone else for a few hours, he just couldn't bring himself to abandon his brain-child whilst it was being built. If anything went wrong, or if anyone needed to have something clarified, he wanted to be there to give an answer.​

Whilst Arthur didn't specifically need Saul, he felt it would be quite rude to actually say that. Saul was opportunistically around at the same time that Arthur felt the need to do a sound check, so it just seemed even more efficient to use the actual announcer rather than anyone else. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Arthur assured him. "But seeing as I have the chance to have the new measurements tested by the person who will be speaking, why not? You'll have a nice glimpse of what it'll be like when the next game is on." It would likely already be a striking difference, as the previous seating and announcer box sounded like someone had designed them whilst wearing earmuffs. Noise ricocheted far too much for the architect's liking and if Saul ever developed tinnitus, Arthur wouldn't be surprised.​

"It'll be much more noticeable when there's more noise," he added, as the hum of work wasn't going to compare to an excited group of people of any size.​

 

[Saul Forrester]

"I'm sure," Saul murmured, raising an eyebrow to himself and shrugging outwardly. No flack to the man, but he honestly didn't see the purpose in him being involved in the project at all when half the time the pitch was just running little league games. There was no point in mentioning it, however, and quite frankly it was just unnecessary. Anyone who kills that man's vibe is a monster, thought Saul. I'll have what he's having.​

​

"Yeah, look, why not. I'm here, aren't I?" Saul said a bit louder so that Arthur could hear, giving him a proper smile. Seemed as though he wasn't so much of a bear, he was just having a bad day. In fact, Saul usually spent half his life smiling for one reason or another, but he'd been so determinedly grumpy for so long that he was starting to get a frown line. "Just tell me where you want me to be." The announcer was starting to think that it might actually be fun to much around with the acoustics, although he wasn't entirely convinced that it would matter, in the end.​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

Arthur couldn't agree more. Saul had already made the effort to get here, so why make it a wasted effort? "Mind the mess," he advised over his shoulder, jogging up the steps until they reached the announcer's box. Realistically, it was also where parents, journalists, coaches and other 'priority' guests to a little leagues game would congregate, but Arthur constructed it based on it's acoustic importance. To him, this was the most important area in the entire pitch. As such, it was better constructed than it had been, with the walls made of large wooden panelling covered by taut fabric to mask the additional insulation to block out external sound. The floor was bare and wooden, and seating was tucked to the sides and front, with space in the back for a beverage station and storage. The largest difference, however, was a slightly elevated, partially exposed platform with a chair, table and arm rest where an announcer would be able to sit and support their arm as the spoke and took notes during the game.​

​

Arthur looked like an embarrassed parent as he fussed over the mess of tools, wood offcuts and leftover fabric, waving his wand and muttering charms to have there be some order. "Just sit in that seat," he instructed, though he was sure that Saul would know what to do. "There's nothing to it. I just want to double check that the acoustics here are as good as I'm hoping. Say anything you like, just try to have it be more than a minute." Even Arthur's ears weren't so good that he could narrow in on small issues in under a minute.​

 

[Saul Forrester]

Saul couldn't help but smile again as he watched the man fuss and begrudgingly conceded his bad mood over to the man's positive energy. Honestly, if they had anything in common, he could be friends with this guy. Arthur seemed genuinely excited to be doing his job, which was how Saul felt on the rare occasions that he was actually able to do it, and he was genuinely curious as to what the other wizard could pick up in the ambience that he couldn't. That, and the announcer's box was actually looking much better than it had, already, even though the project had yet to be completed.​

"Here?" Saul confirmed, pointing to the seat Arthur had vaguely indicated towards whilst he was puttering about, and seated himself on the elevated platform at the front of the box. Looks good, he thought. "Alright, on your go." When prompted, Saul cast a Sonorous charm and fell effortlessly into announcer mode. Quite frankly, it wasn't something that most people could do on command, even though Saul was constantly told by other drunk patrons at the bars he frequented that 'I could do your job, I just don't wanna'. Other than being sharp-eyed and sharp-tongued, Saul could happily rattle off a minute's worth of speech without breaking a sweat, which was harder than it looked.​

"Aaaaattention all employees and sub-contractors, this is an testing announcement from your morning host, Saul Forrester, on behalf of the lovely Mister Wilkes whom you can find at the announcer's top box at the far end of the pitch!​

A big thank you to all of our patrons who are making this upgrade possible, we appreciate your time, effort and donations to improve the pitch for the Geckos and all of our little league teams- the Wasps, the Chargers and the Moas- we love you! Keep on keeping on." Which was hilarious because Saul was the last person to be saying thank you for the situation, but bull**** didn't discriminate. This was only the beginning, and when Saul ran out of people to thank, he played about with accents, timbres and tones of voice, from running through vocal exercises to doing the dodgiest, most stereotypical Irish phrases he could come up with, up to and including 'Diddle dee dee, potatoes!'. Only a man that full of it could've finished without busting out laughing, and Saul was full of it. He was halfway through his not-totally-trash version of Nessun Dorma when he ran out of time (well, in his opinion), and abruptly thanked everyone for their time and turned to give Arthur a big ol' grin. He'd been making faces at him half the time, anyway.​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

The first time Saul looked over at him, Arthur gently (and silently) scolded him to turn back around, as job was going to be made much harder if he kept looking back in the room when Arthur was designing around the expectation that he would be speaking out of it. That wasn't the only thing making his job that little bit harder; the fact that Saul was being hilarious did not help him, as he found himself trying very not to laugh, and he actually failed at one stage when the accents started, and then struggled to stop laughing. By time Saul had finished, there was whistling coming from some of the builders, who had likely appreciated some comedy on what had so far been a boring morning; whilst Arthur was looking slightly sheepish from embarrassment at being mentioned during the speech, but he was valiantly trying to hide the fact behind professionalism.​

​

"Thank you," Arthur said sincerely, looking away from Saul's grin and justifying it by writing on his clip board. The acoustics in the room were good, but the fabric needed another layer towards the back, right-hand corner for it to be up to his standards. "You wouldn't believe how many builders I went through trying to find someone that could do what you did so effortlessly. It was amazing, and very helpful," he complimented, smiling kindly. "Your last name is Forrester, then?"​

 

[Saul Forrester]

"No worries," said the Irishman after he cancelled the Sonorous, using one of his adopted Kiwi phrases that he also heard out of the Aussie workers constantly. It hadn't been a chore to make the Englishman laugh. Score one for me, thought Saul, smiling a bit less goofily and more sincerely when Arthur thanked him. No one had ever thanked him for doing his job with that level of veracity. Apparently it was 'amazing'. Saul could blush.​

​

"Aye, that's the one," Saul confirmed curiously. "What about it?" It seemed to be a bit of non-sequitur after a moment of fun, but he was a lot more accommodating after his morning had improved substantially from how it started. ​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

Saul seemed to be in a much better mood than when Arthur first approached it, so it seemed that his plan to brighten the man's day and not make his morning a waste had worked. It had taken him away from his surveying of the site, but quite frankly, the builders were probably relieved by his absence. He didn't consider himself a distraction, nor a source of intimidation, but he understood the fact that they didn't appreciate the feeling of being watched whilst they worked. It was a bit embarrassing to be included in Saul's humour in front of the entire work site, but he was sure they barely noticed.​

​

His eyes widened slightly as Saul asked a question he couldn't answer. There really wasn't a reason to why he had confirmed that Forrester was Saul's last name, he had just wanted to clarify it because he hadn't been told, earlier. Having already looked sheepish, his cheeks were getting warm and he decided that it was time to get moving. "Nothing, I was just clarifying. You had only introduced yourself as Saul, earlier," he explained, gesturing for Saul to follow him back down the stairs. At least here, he had an excuse to not be face to face with the man. "You wanted to see the site manager?"​

 

[Saul Forrester]

Saul's smile widened as he caught the blush on Arthur's cheeks, feeling the increasing desire to follow the man just to tease him a bit. Okay, that's pretty cute, he thought. Not entirely sure he's for real, though. ​

"Yeah, probably sooner rather than later," the Irishman acknowledged, begrudgingly coming back down to earth to acknowledge that his career was still a bit up in the air right now, and a detour was still a detour no matter what package it came in. He took the time to shake Arthur's hand again before he headed down the stairs and across the work site to see if 'Mister Brown' had come off his break yet, and to his relief, he had. This, however, did not guarantee results, and although Brown was entertained by Saul's sound testing, he couldn't magic up an announcing job for him where there was none. At the same time, the man couldn't just hang a contractor out to dry without getting an attorney knocking at his office door, and so it ended up with Saul transfiguring his work clothes into more appropriate gardening gear and helping out the workmen landscaping the outside completed sections of the pitch.​

"Ah gawd, I need to work out more," he complained later in the day, his shoulders aching from planting. The heaviest loads went to his wand, but most of the little stuff was hand-done, and Saul also felt that a hot bath for his knees was also in order. I am too old for this s***, he lied to himself. Looking across the pitch, he could still see Arthur puttering away with this and that, seemingly making busy work for himself, and Saul's spontaneous thought found him striding across the way and greeting him once more. "Hey," he said artlessly. "Have you had lunch? The pub down the road does a Guinness pie that's pretty fierce."​

 

[Arthur Wilkes]

Arthur wished Saul well and then got back to work, unaware that the announcer had been given a new position until he was approached again. It wasn't that Arthur was swarmed with tasks, as at this stage, he was mostly just making work for himself and discussing how things were going with Mister Brown (constantly), but it was enough to distract him from the goings-on around the pitch, and so he was pleasantly surprised to see Saul around. He looked down at Saul's new wardrobe, slightly confused by the change, but he was swiftly distracted by what sounded like an invitation to eat. ​

​

"I don't eat when working," he answered, pinning his quill to his clipboard and holding it against his chest. "It keeps me sharp. I've just finished, though, so I'll eat anything. Lead the way!" A Guinness pie was sounding nice, but seeing as his stomach was quietly rumbling complaints (fortunately not loud enough to be heard, yet), he wasn't planning on being picky. ​

​

"You look like you've been busy, Saul," Arthur mentioned conversationally on their way through the pitch. "What has Mister Brown told you to do?"​