[March 15th, early afternoon]

[poeticprivilege]

Sitting in the British Literature classroom was a man who could have been mistaken for a student. Though he was sitting at the teacher's desk, he had his sneakered feet propped up on it, crossed at the ankles as he boredly sifting through a stack of papers. His dark gray pants were baggy, and covered in zippers and pockets, and he wore a white t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, an assortment of vividly colored paint streaks covering it. Occasionally, he'd reach up to run a hand through the strands of dark brown hair that fell over the side of his face, brushing them behind his ear, or look up from the papers as people passed by in the halls.

Faces are made at anyone who dares to stop and peek in.

Comments

[borntolose]

The big man who came in next didn't bother to peek first. He didn't even bother to pay attention to the other man, just went to the waste basket near the door and started dumping it out into a larger bag he was carrying with him. He didn't look like he belong there, particularly - his long hair was pulled back, which made the mustache and muttonchops stand out more, and tattoos crawled up and down his hairy arms. Not the kind arranged into artful sleeves, but unconnected bits of ink lumped here and there that disappeared up into the sleeves of his Hawkwind t-shirt. He left the door open, too, letting the noise of the boys in the hall filter in.

[poeticprivilege]

It would have been easy enough to ignore the intrusion. Kalvin didn't really care about the noise, and if he wasn't acknowledged, or no trouble was caused, then really, it wasn't any of his business to deal with the other man.

But in his brief glance in the other's direction, his eye caught on the tattoos. His own arms were covered by sleeves - the artful kind, that is, and he was always interested in hearing the stories behind other people's tattoos. And he could tell, the kind like the other guy had, those just weren't for looks.

"Nice ink."

[borntolose]

Eddie put the basket down, then glanced over casually at the teacher. Not hard on the eyes, but he looked like a ponce. Too pretty to be all that rough around the edges, he decided, despite that tats. He reminded the big man of some punks he'd known back home, though maybe this one knew how to tear it up a little. What he didn't look like was a teacher.

"S'all right," he said, his thick Bristolian accent turning it into, S'ohl roigh. He sauntered over to the desk, to grab the wastebasket there, too, and closer up it was clear that from the roughness of the ink, some of those tats were either done at home, or in prison. Some kind of coat of arms, an ace of spades encircled by a rough slogan, a chained demon head.

He took the opportunity to eye this teacher bloke up and down himself, now that he was closer, not even bothering to hide what he was doing.

[poeticprivilege]

An eyebrow arches, his eyes narrow, and the corners of his lips twitch slightly. It wasn't quite a smile, but it carried the faintest hints of amusement. Really? his expression said. Really, this big brute was looking at him like that? With those faint traces of disapproval and condescension in his eyes. Oh, of course there was interest too. There always was. After all, he was so very pretty, there wasn't anyone who didn't look at him with some sort of admiration. He expected it.

It was someone so... dirty that he didn't like looking down on him. Probably thought he wasn't much more than a scrap of meat. So irritating.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he reached up and brushed his hand through his hair, twirling the ends around his fingers. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer."

[deadbirdarising]

Jason was lost.

It was the first day of classes after all, and he hadn't paid a damned bit of attention during that tour that was supposed to be mandatory. He'd went because he'd had to, not because he particularly wanted to. So, he was lost.

Hitching his bag higher up onto his shoulder, the sullen looking teenager glanced up from the little mini-map he'd copied from the website...and what do you know. Brit. Lit. Well, that was something, at least. Shouldering open the door, Jason didn't even bother to look up at the so called 'teacher'. He just moved to an empty seat and slumped down into it, long legs stretched out under the desk, his non-uniform issued combat boots sticking out the other side.

He also didn't have the blazer. Or the sweatervest (Oh, those were still in the fucking plastic and would remain that way the entire time he was in this school if he had his way). Black slacks, white shirt, and combat boots. And, if one were to look closely enough, there was an earbud tucked into one ear, the wire threaded under his shirt and snaking down into his pocket.

[poeticprivilege]

If the teacher wasn't in uniform for the first day of class, then he didn't really care if the students were either. Not that there was a uniform, but the school board did expect him to try and look like a professional.

He did, at least, lower his papers to eye the student.

"You know, you could at least try to look enthused."

[deadbirdarising]

One dark brow arched towards his hairline, but his first answer was a snort. Sitting up a little, he leaned over his desk, the bandages on his face contorting as he smirked.

"I'm a Sophomore who elected to take a junior elective class. I actually showed up. I'm awake and paying attention. What more do you want out of me, because if you're expecting me to grin rainbows and vibrate out of my chair in glee because I'm 'allowed' to be here, you've got another thing coming."

Okay, so maybe the first class of the year was too soon to be quite so confrontational, but Jason didn't care. At all.

He flopped back in his seat, reaching up to absently rub at the half faded bruise around the bandage at his hairline, his other hand in his pocket. The faint music sounds increased, the second earbud muffled from being under his shirt.

[poeticprivilege]

Normally, this would be exactly the sort of behavior he'd encourage. Challenging authority was indicative of independent thought, after all. It was the sort of attitude he'd had back in highschool, too. On top of that, hearing that a sophomore had taken his class early was sort of flattering, if only because obviously he took it because he likes the subject matter, and not to get it out of the way. So, were this any other time, any other scenario, he'd have praised Jason for such sharp retort.

But today, he was a teacher, and this wass his classroom, and the only one who's opinion mattered, was his. Jason simply needed to learn that sometimes, the smart thing to do is keep your head down and shut up.

"Well, that's great to hear," he chirped, shifting so that he could get into his desk and pull out packet of papers. He brushed a hand over them as he stood, slowing sauntering around to the front of his desk, and over to the student. "I'm glad to know that I have such an... ambitious student in my class. Just tickled right down to the cockles of my heart. And I think such obvious ambition should be rewarded. I wasn't really planning on passing out any reading material today, other than the syllabus, of course, but, I'm sure an ambitious individual would love to have the chance to work ahead of the class."

The packet of papers, only six pages thick, slapped onto Jason's desk. "This is the first section of the Epic of Gilgamesh. I was going to save it for next week's homework, since I don't have enough copies of The Canterbury Tales for one class, let alone eight of them, but I think you deserve this little opportunity, don't you? So how about you read it, compile a list of characters, gimme a little summary, then tell me the importance of what's all happened. I think that sounds pretty good, what about you?"

[silverspotlight]

Oh, really! Gai makes a face right back! He does glance around the classroom though, ah, the feeling of a new school! Was that guy really supposed to be here, though? Sneakers... weird pants... t-shirt... totally not the image of a teacher at all! But he was sitting at the desk, so...

"Do you teach here?" This guy thought he was something, didn't he. The youth can't really do much about it either way, but he could at the very least give a hooligan a stern talking-to if need be--or guidance, since most lost souls also needed that! A hero to bring them back to light, as it were, and Gai could totally fancy himself as that sort of person.

[poeticprivilege]

As Gai makes a face, he uses his papers to cover his face, snickering quietly. He like this kid already. Not many people here were loose enough to respond to him in kind.

"Why yes, I do, and this is my classroom. Kalvin Gottfried, of British Literature. What can I do you for, kiddo?"

[easytoread]

It was the first day of classes, and already everything was... a mess. No, maybe it wasn't going so badly, but it seemed like he was unprepared for absolutely everything that was coming at him today. They were minor issues, and nothing to fret over— normally, at least. Or for anyone else, perhaps. But each mistake, each setback seemed to weight him down just a bit more, and now he was practically sulking over... this. After he had wasted enough time tearing his desk apart, he finally gave up and headed towards a nearby classroom. When he saw one where it seemed like he might not be entirely intruding, he knocked on the door before entering. However, the face greeting him caused him to tense up a bit, but he sticks to his original intent.

"Ahh, excuse me!" he called out with a slight bow of his head in apology for disturbing him. "I seem to have misplaced my markers, so I was wondering if you might have one I could borrow..."

[poeticprivilege]

He's just racking up the points today, isn't he? These first few days are the best - he can get away with anything.

"Yeah, sure," he chirped, leaning even farther back in his chair to reach for the whiteboard behind him, blindly groping for and grabbing a marker. He held it up. red. Awesome, a color he didn't care about. He tossed it over to the other teacher, not really aiming, so if he misses completely, well... whoops. "Here, catch."

[easytoread]

"Ahh—!" he exclaimed as he reached for the haphazardly tossed instrument. It fell quite short, actually, and he very nearly tripped while trying to successfully retrieve it. In the end, he had only barely managed.

"Thanks. Um..." he trailed. Well, he didn't know anyone's names yet. "I'll be sure to return it by the end of the day!"

[smallgayjew]

Having already gotten all of his belongings moved in (though not unpacked) to his dorm, David decided to take a quick look around the school just to see where things were so he wouldn't be lost on the first day of class. He stuck his head into the classroom in question, not expecting anyone to be in there.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't know anyone was here," he said, his clearly British (mostly RP, slightly Yorkshire) accent giving away the fact that he really was a long way from home.

[poeticprivilege]

What, no reaction to the face? Well, guess he can't win all of them. He shrugs, flicking his hand through his hair. Wasn't the first Brit he'd had barge in today, but he was a lot better looking.

"It's fine, sweety. Just doing some prep work for class. Anything I can help you with?"

[smallgayjew]

David was operating under the assumption that he'd caught the teacher unawares, and he really didn't want to draw attention to that fact if it were the case.

"Not really. I was only trying to find my way before classes begin. I'm David, by the way," he added, stepping into the room and offering his hand, all politeness.

[perfectshade]

Well, Ross was definitely startled by that face. (Mysterious stranger 1 - Ross 0.) But he was also pretty sure the other guy saw his reaction, and to escape now and pretend it hadn't happened would've just been cowardly. What was worse, he couldn't tell if this person was a teacher (didn't look like it, between the clothes and the tattoos and the hair and posture and everything, really) or a student (also didn't look like it, too old). Better to err on the side of caution, though, right?

So he shuffled in. "Hi. You a teacher?"

[poeticprivilege]

Kalvin 3 - Student body 1. The day was in his favor. And that question certainly was a common one. He was glad he'd chosen to go casual today, if only to avoid hearing it on any other day of the year.

"Sure am, kiddo. Mr. Gottfried of Brit Lit." He paused, wrinkling his nose a little. Going by his surname makes me sound like his dad, but oh well. "I promise, I clean up better than you'd think."

[perfectshade]

"I didn't-- I mean, I always just figured teachers have strict rules for what they're supposed to look like." Ross shrugged with a little self-deprecating laugh.

"I'm Ross, but I'm not in your class so it's not important. Brit Lit's, like, a senior class, right?" It sounded like a senior class, anyway.

[gentle]

did that man just make a face at him?! N stopped mid-stride before taking another step back into the doorframe's view-- yes, the student (because there's no way a teacher would behave so immaturely! talk about improper!) lounging about in that teacher's desk had definitely made a face at him.

N lingered in his spot, staring blatantly, unsure of how to react. was that supposed to be some kind of greeting? or perhaps he was being teased? he wasn't sure, there were still a lot of things about societal norms he was trying to figure out, so he does the one thing he's certain will at least get him an answer.

he makes a face back, nose wrinkled, tongue poking out-- the perfect picture of maturity, or possibly a greeting if that's what this is.

[poeticprivilege]

He watches N go by the classroom, then walk back, making sure to school his face into an expression of cool indifference. Making faces? Him? No, not at all, he's just sitting here, doing his teacher-homework, not doing anything wrong at all.

A small staring contest ensues, Kalvin biting the insides of his cheeks to keep himself from cracking up. It doesn't work when N makes a face right back, so he slaps his papers over his face, taking a moment to compose himself again.

When he lowers the papers again, his eyes are crossed, and his tongue is stuck out, curling up to touch the tip of his nose.

[gentle]

N is a mixture of confused and super confused, and he looks unabashedly surprised, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights as he tries to figure out exactly what in the world is happening. yikes! this guy must be an expert on making crazy faces-- N is in awe of is talent but tries not to show it.

it almost appears as if he's retreating, head snapping forward as he takes a few long and hurried strides forward and disappearing behind the door's wall for a few long moments, but a mop of wavy green hair and a duckface so well-practiced it would put any broho to shame peer back into the room.

[chibisensei]

That face made Naoshi pause, briefly taken aback complete with an obvious little startle, but then he only laughed. The little man was similarly casual, if not to quite so much of an extreme, wearing the primary-rainbow-hemmed track jacket he was so fond of over otherwise ordinary (if a size too loose) t-shirt and jeans. Classes hadn't started yet, so who wanted to cram into an uncomfortable suit just yet?

It helped that he could pick out the (vaguely) more familiar face of the once-substitute teacher under the makeup and piercings. Otherwise he might have gotten a little up in arms about this decidedly out-of-place individual in one of Feldman's classrooms.

So what he retorted with instead, was, "Well if you don't want your welcoming present after all, then fine, I'll move on to the next new teacher!"

[poeticprivilege]

And just like that, Kalvin is out of his chair and across the room, making grabby hands at Naoshi.

"What, welcoming present? No one ever said anything about welcome presents, gimme gimme!"

Greedy? Him? Yes, just a bit. But he's also bouncing like an excited school boy, so that makes it okay, right?

[chibisensei]

Naoshi laughed again at that, more than pleased. An excellent change in demeanor, even better than what he'd been aiming for!

"Nobody mentioned it because they're courtesy of me, not the school," he replied with a grin. "Just a little something to help you settle in, heh!"

If Kalvin imagined something ostentatious, he'd be sadly disappointed. Naoshi had a small number of greeting-card-sized envelopes with him, tucked inside a notebook, and he picked one with Kalvin's name written on it from the rest. The card the other man would find inside was of a sillier variety with a casual handwritten message welcoming Kalvin to Feldman, signed by one 'Naoshi Day'. Tucked inside said card was a giftcard to the local Walmart (meh) and a couple movie vouchers to the small local cinema (perhaps less meh).

"Something for class supplies, and something just for fun!" Naoshi elaborated, looking pleased with himself.