darkSpyro

OOC: Telai is ready, awaiting acception, into the roleplay.

OOC: Hey, I've been talking with Lunarz, and he's requested that he drop out of the RP until further notice. In order to keep it going without his characters, we decided to have Rexar be sent somewhere else to attend to different matters, and have Zurgon be more quiet, possibly interacting with other students outside of our characters' circle. He said he'd like to join back in, but he's unsure of when that might happen.

Maybe we could have a short time skip to next morning? And does anyone still want to RP through detention? It seemed like a fun idea back then, but all our characters will be doing is sitting around. What do you guys think, should we just skip past it like they're just getting out of it, or something? Whatever you guys want.

OOC: That sounds fine to me, I just want to continue this awesome rp.

((OOC: Hey guys! I'm sorry I disappeared for a while; I've been doing stuff in real life. But I'm back now!
@Waaksian: A time skip to the following morning sounds good! Whether or not we do the detention is up to you guys. If any of you have any interesting ideas for how the detention could play out, I'd love to hear them! If it's just going to be our characters sitting in a room in complete and awkward silence, however, maybe it would be best if we skipped past that part. Whatever sounds good to you guys! :3
@Wyrstel: Telai is accepted! ))

ooc: A time skip sounds fine to me. I could probably come up with something for detention, but most of the realistic ideas could easily be trumped by the fact that Elim would be there to stop any fun stuff from happening. Detention is meant to be a punishment, not play time. Even if something exciting happened, it might just lead to the group getting more detention. Maybe it would be best if they all just served their time in silence so we could move on to other things.

((OOC: I'm thinking it would probably be best if we skipped to right after the detention. That way we can assume that the detention served was actually a detention and not a party in the classroom (Elim has an image to maintain - he's got to keep those kids under control, and that's no fun ). Besides, it's no doubt a certainty that we can find other ways for interesting things to happen without actually roleplaying the detention. X3))

ooc: Yeah, that sounds good. A party? Under Elim's supervision? Never! xD Besides, two of said students are Order agents, and they don't want to look bad in front of Elim. x3 Yeah, there's plenty of other stuff to do besides roleplaying through the detention. And I guess Rachel could be hanging around outside the room, waiting for them, if you want. At least by the time it ends. Since her friends are in there, I could see her waiting to meet up with them.

OOC: To be honest, my preferable option would be to wait for Lunarz entirely. I'm confident in the RP's survival, and after a year of silence it's still come back to life. But, on the other hand, other people still want to play now. And so do I. I guess that we can stall to prevent any major changes in the RP from happening before he comes back, so he won't be lost.
Yes, I think a time skip would be in order. RPing a proper detention would be... uh, yeah.

((OOC: I'd really like to wait for Lunarz too, but we don't know when he'll be back, and if he's anything like me, then he'd probably feel bad about pausing the roleplay because of his absence (because we like feeling guilty about everything, I guess ). So I'm thinking we do a timeskip to after the detention, and carry on with the second day of school. Considering the first half day of school took fifteen pages, and these most recent four pages have taken months for us to do (because of me disappearing all the time), I don't think the roleplay will move at a pace where Lunarz will really miss anything. I'd be surprised if we even got halfway through the second day. Does this sound okay with everyone? :3))

OOC: Yeah, you're right, we do feel bad about everything. Huh. But you make a good point. If timing stays around the same, he won't be missing too much. Yeah, let's do it.

ooc: Yeah, if the pacing stays about the same it has been, then we shouldn't get too far ahead before he comes back. Besides, we have new characters to focus on, and we need to get them settled in. Just giving them a chance to interact with everyone should take up some time.

-----Timeskip-----

The first full 24 hours on Earth have passed for both Brotherhood and Order agents alike. While the Order agents experienced a bit more trouble than the former group, everything eventually worked out smoothly. The humans, both student and teacher alike, remain blissfully unaware of what is transpiring within their ordinariy school. Today is a new day, one that started a bit awkwardly, what with the detention many of the students - both human and alien - were obligated to attend. But the aforementioned punishment has passed uneventfully, and now everyone is in the process of getting to their first class as usual. Perhaps things will go a bit more smoothly today.... Or perhaps the new faces coming into the story will stir up different sorts of trouble....


Elim - ahem, Mr. White - watched from behind his glasses as students shuffled quickly out of his classroom. Most of them were in a hurry to leave, as for the past hour or so they had been subjected to a detention under his surveillance, and, as with many things, when it came to punishment, the Targibbon did not do things by halves. The school forbade him from physically harming any of his students, but the alien didn't need to do so in order to assert his authority anyways. While it may have seemed like students were simply sitting idly in a classroom during that particular detention, in reality, the air had been thick with tension, practically resonating with something Elim liked to refer to as, "psychological warfare". Physical violence had never appealed to this particular order agent. Psychological domination was his preferred method of succeeding in battles, winning wars. Even if this "war" had naught but not-quite-adult human children as his opponents, it was a war he refused to lose, all the same. If he was going to make a point of studying these humans, they were going to be under his control, at the very least.

Adjusting his glasses, the pseudo-teacher flicked his eyes to two of the students presently leaving the room, giving a moment's notice towards them before setting his gaze to some papers he was idly shifting through. Mort and Diane were two of the students Mr. White tasked himself with demoralizing, technically, though it was mutually understood that Elim meant no ill will against Morph and Syndral. The three of them operated as a team, a team whose main priority was to maintain their status as mere humans amongst the crowd. Their human variants might not always act nicely towards one another, but their alien counterparts knew that it was all a guise to mislead the surrounding humans. The Targibbon understood this, at the very least, and didn't allow the line between Mr. White and Elim to blur in the slightest.

Which is why Mr. White would act as cruelly to Mort and Diane as he would to everyone else.


Much unlike the order agent, Plagarius - or, Dr. Finch, rather - wasn't making a point of demoralizing anything. Instead, he was happily going about organizing his office to his liking. Sure, he had already had time before school had started to do this, but this was his first day actually attending to the students here, so he was taking extra care to make sure everything was perfect. The man was practically buzzing with excitement, so much so that, should he have been out of his human disguise, his feathers probably would have been fluffed out a bit more than usual as he practically frolicked around his office. His movements weren't the only things that weren't restrained, but his mouth was running, as well.

"Hello, stethoscope," he said to the correlating object as he checked to make sure it was in the right place. "Hello flashlight!" He darted to and fro, naming similar items as he passed by them, until he stopped suddenly, pondering aloud, "Now, what am I doing?" At times, the Corvonian's mind worked more quickly than his body, so much so that he was thinking of things five steps ahead of what he was actually doing. This tended to happen when he got overly excited, which, needless to say, he was very much excited right now. Stopped in the center of his office, he ceased all movement for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his human face and a single hand raised a bit as if he was trying to pluck a thought from the air. When he finally thought of what he was doing, his face lit up again, his raised hand pointing towards the ceiling as if a lightbulb had appeared there, and he nearly skipped over to the counter. There sat a simple tag with the name of his human alias on it, which he took and pinned to his shirt, saying whilst doing so, "Hello nametag."


Unlike the two alien teachers, Rachel - just Rachel - stood tentatively outside of Mr. White's classroom. There she was waiting for Diane to come out. The human girl wasn't all that certain why Diane - among others - had gotten detention in the first place. In her mind, the ones who had started the fight should be the sole students serving detention, but she supposed that the school system simply didn't agree with her logic. Not being one to argue with people of authority, Rachel simply accepted the situation for what it was - a bit stupid - and decided that it would be nice to simply wait for Diane so that they could walk to their respective classes together. Well, Rachel's first class was literally right where she was standing, but she wanted to see how her new, strange friend was doing, so instead of stringently following what she considered to be a rule, as she was prone to, she decided to bend the rules just a bit, in the interests of seeing Diane. She should have plenty of time to at least say hi, she reasoned with herself, so there she stood, resolved to offer her a wave at the very least.

During detention, Syndral had thought that the peaceful silence would be a perfect time to do some reading. With no distractions, and no one to disturb her, it seemed like it would be a relaxing time. However, with a restless mind, it was actually hard to focus on the book itself. She had it open on her desk, but her eyes kept wandering around to the rest of the room. She was distracted by the "psychological warfare" going on around her, not so much because of the "war" itself, or whether or not Elim would lose, but rather the Targibbon himself.

It sort of amazed her in a way, how effortlessly he seemed to fit into his role as Mr. Locklear, the math teacher. Not because the role wasn't fitting for him, but because of how he seemed to have no trouble becoming his alias. Granted, to someone else, there may not be much of a difference, but it was noticeable enough to the Zvarranik. It was mostly how he treated his fellow agents. She knew it was staged, of course, and that he meant no ill will towards her personally. Still, it amazed her how well he could see her as only Mari, and not Syndral, a fellow agent. It left a question lingering in her mind.

How? How did he do it? Did he simply have more experience? Had he done this type of mission numerous times before? Being in disguise like this and lying about her identity was a first for Syndral. She had done different types of stealthy jobs before, but none of them really required her to lie about who she was. At least not for any length of time in any sort of social situation. At most, she may infiltrate a base and pretend to be one of the workers there, or just another citizen in a public area. This was nothing more than a guise to not attract attention while she focuses on the mission at hand. The general theme of her missions were simple. Get in, do the job, and get out quickly without drawing attention. She hardly ever had to actually talk to anyone. However, this mission was different, and it left her more than a little out of her comfort zone.

Syndral just didn't know how Elim managed to adjust so well, or how she could do the same. She wasn't even sure if she could. The first day had been a disaster, she felt, and not just because of the incident in the gym. Analyzing her overall performance the previous day showed her how poorly she was doing at fitting in. She certainly didn't feel like she fit in. It seemed that nearly everything about her clashed horribly with this environment. At the very least, it wasn't snowing, but she still felt she was doing a terrible job of pretending to be human. Maybe she could ask Elim for advice, but unfortunately, that would have to wait.

Unlike everyone else, Syndral wasn't really in a hurry to leave, although she wasn't exactly taking her time either. While detention wasn't as horrible as she first thought it might be, perhaps an hour alone with her thoughts was a little too much. At least in her lab she could keep busy with projects to distract herself, whereas a simple book just wasn't enough. Plus, the lab was void of other people, so there were no possible distractions. Although with detention being over now, she could focus on the next day of school.

As she exited the room, she merely prepared to head off to her first period class. However, she paused upon spotting a certain human girl. It didn't really occur to Syndral at the time that Rachel might be waiting for her. Maybe she just coincidentally had a class close by. Still, it certainly wasn't a bad choice for a distraction after a thoughtful detention. The Zvarranik headed over to her, her demeanor remaining unchanged. "Greetings, Rachel." A part of her wondered if that was too formal, or if she should say something more. Her uncertainty only made her more critically aware of her lack of social skills.

New parties were approaching, both mysterious and normal in nature, ready to take on a environment that was not expecting their presence. Relations had been formed on the initial day that the new parties would not be a part of, but this did not mean that they were fully strangers. They were simply friends who arrived late to a party.

The first to prance down the hallway - with a joy which almost seemed to mock it's own existence, was a tall female, whose figure towered over most around here. She had a slight skip to her step, a glisten in her eye. The female had deep black hair, with a minor purple shine to it, a simple way to hide an unnatural purple. As always, her hair was tied up in a bun. The female was decorated with accessories of all colours, bracelets running down her arms, a necklace tied around her neck, and decorative feathers pinned into her hair. Her name was Ardunayne, though under her human guide she instead opted for an alias of Anahita. She kept her eyes peeled for any one whom would look her way, any person that would give her a chance to smile and wave. She had been looking forward to this sort of a mission - somehow information had been relayed poorly to her, as she was a day late, though that wasn't stopping her. She didn't feel bothered by being late. She liked it. She liked the chance to stand out, to be the new stranger in the crowd. Part of her hoped, begged almost, that was a new variable she would be exciting, enthralling, a subject people wanted to look at. She took a quick glance at a sheet of paper, her schedule, before continuing in the direction of her first class.

Meanwhile, a less outgoing personality wandered the halls, trying to learn his new environment, a slight fear crawling up his spine. His name was Cryktin, codenamed Vester, a small, shy fellow with little detail to warrant and a small form that was easily overlooked. He wasn't particularly excited to be in this place, this foreign - dare he use the ironic word of alien - location. He was unable to make use of his normal form, forced to take on a human guise that meant nothing to his useless eyes. Given time, he could learn a place, weave through the halls on mere memory alone. For now, this place was a mystery, a maze with invisible paths he could never see. He felt afraid within, isolated. He felt like prey among the other people of this place. He was already struggling a little to find his first class, to try and use directions that complimented his inability to see. Then, there were the people in general. He was here to study them, to seek them as allies, but they were a little frightening in ways. He wasn't entirely certain how they would treat him, if they would see him as a friend or a target. He reached out with a hand, found a wall, began to follow it.

Finally, a staff member was preparing to set up his personal space. Ferdinand, a psychologist, sauntered across his room, humming a pleasant tune, prepared for a great year, despite his late start. He was finishing up placing personal belongings on his desk, smiling at a photograph of his. His children. He loved them dearly, and he would treat the children at this school, older as they were, just like his kin. He pushed his glasses higher up on his nose, adjusting his ascot, and took a seat with a pleased sigh.

((OOC: I hope I did alright. I'm super nervous about joining in.))

As she saw Diane exit Mr. White's classroom, Rachel perked up a bit, her slightly slouched posture becoming straighter and more lively as she went from simply waiting around to actually spotting her new acquaintance. At Diane's greeting, the human girl nearly laughed at her excessive formality, but she stifled it down quickly. Rachel didn't claim to know where the other girl came from and what it was like there, but she did know that it must be very different from here, if Diane's regular behavior and her mindset was indicative of anything. While the polite - if a bit automated - greeting Diane gave seemed pretty amusing to her, she figured it could very well be the norm wherever her new friend came from, and the last thing Rachel wanted to do was to offend someone because of a possible cultural misunderstanding. Maybe she was thinking too deeply into it, but it struck her as rude to laugh in that moment, so she didn't.

But she was human, so while she managed to stop herself from actually laughing, she couldn't stop the big smile that overcame her, which looked very strained as if she was trying to keep herself from bursting into laughter.

Trying to stifle down the urge to giggle - for once you get the urge to laugh, it's very hard to do anything but - Rachel instead tried to make it seem as if her strange smile was simply one of joy in seeing her new companion. "There you are! I was hoping I'd get to see you!" As she thought of just why she had wanted to see Diane, she seemed to finally banish the amusement from her face, for it was instead replaced by a solemn, perhaps even a bit concerned expression. Rubbing her arm as if a bit reluctant to speak, she eventually asked in a more serious tone, "So how was detention? I mean, detention itself isn't really all that bad, but Mr. White seems..." Scary. Frightening. Threatening. All those words seemed to apply nicely enough, but Rachel didn't really like exaggerating something, nor did she feel particularly comfortable with speaking ill of her teachers. So for a moment she paused in thought, searching for a word that was perhaps more "politically correct", in a sense. Finally, she settled for the word, "...intimidating."


Satisfied with the position of his nametag on his shirt, the school nurse settled down in his desk, without anyone else's company but his own.

That lasted for about five seconds.

Rising from his chair, Dr. Finch uttered a, "That won't do," to himself. The Corvonian was a social creature, to be sure, so being alone in his office was certainly far from enjoyable to him. The doctor in him didn't particularly like being idle, either, sitting and doing nothing when it was his duty to do otherwise. Alas, there simply wasn't much for him to do. There were no ill or injured students to attend to, which, to be honest, Plagarius preferred when no one was suffering some sort of ailment, even if it meant he could not put his skills to use. There was nothing else really scheduled for him, as sometimes a school nurse would take over a classroom to educate students on some aspect of physical health, but it was only the second day of school, so both students and teachers alike were very well still settling into their routines. Normally, the Corvonian could withstand longer periods of time by himself with nothing to do, but he was still quite excited about his new environment and new responsibilities, so he was even more restless than usual. It just seemed as if there was nothing he could... or was there?

Struck with an idea, the disguised Brotherhood agent strode excitedly out of his office, for he had thought of something productive for him to do! He was aware of a man also working within the school building who went by the name of Ferdinand Valentine. As a Corvonian, Plagarius was just as eager and excited to meet all the staff members he would be working with, but he was even more anxious to meet this particular human, for he was the school's pscyhologist. Being a doctor, he was very keen to meet the psychologist, for in his mind, a doctor and a psychologist went hand in hand. He himself aided the physically injured, while it was Ferdinand's duty to aid the mentally or emotionally wounded. They both were dedicated to helping people, and that, in Plagarius's mind, meant they would be working together very closely. If they were, indeed, going to be working in the same field of others' health, then they simply had to get to know each other! It was a matter of professionalism - for if they worked together nicely, they could complement each other's skills - and also, of course, a means of interacting with a member of the human species, which the Corvonian would enjoy immensely, and as a Brotherhood agent, it would also help in his research.

When he finally arrived at the door to the psychologist's office, he very nearly just walked right in, as Corvonians on his homeworld tended to. He managed to stop himself just in time, reminding himself that this was Earth, and Earth's customs were far different from his own. With that in mind, he raised his hand - which had just been inches from the doorknob - and instead knocked politely on the door.

((OOC: Welcome to the party, Miss Cipher! You'll do great! ))

The big, strained smile did not go unnoticed by the Zvarranik. Syndral wasn't sure of it's true meaning, but she did get the feeling that something wasn't quite right about that smile. Was it forced? Oh no, it was, wasn't it? It was a fake smile. That greeting was in fact too formal. Darn her lack of social skills. She knew she didn't fit in here. She knew she shouldn't have come on this mission. She was just all wrong for this job, and now she's ruined social interactions with the one human she might actually be able to talk to. She knew this would be an absolute dis--Oh, she spoke.

When Rachel spoke up, Syndral let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. She was able to control her breathing enough so that hopefully it didn't seem too obvious as a sigh of relief. Perhaps she was wrong after all. Maybe she was just over analyzing the situation again, and everything was actually fine. Rachel didn't really seem upset with her by any means.

As the human girl's expression changed and she began rubbing her arm, Syndral started getting nervous again over the possibility that something was wrong. She felt as though she had failed at socializing again, until Rachel continued. She blinked. So this was about detention? No, more so, it was about the teacher in charge of it. "Mr. Locklear?" She asked, her tone almost giving a hint of surprise. "He is--" She bit her tongue to stop the following word from slipping out. Ouch. Biting a skinny, forked tongue with sharp fangs was not a pleasant feeling. Still, it prevented her from possibly saying the wrong thing.

While Syndral didn't have any issues with Elim, her opinion didn't appear to be a popular one, at least among students and who they believed to be Mr. Locklear. She wasn't really surprised by it, rather understanding why, but it didn't mean that she liked it or shared their viewpoint. A part of her wanted to defend him, wanted to show that he's more than just what they see on the surface. However, she knew it wouldn't be well received. She knew people wouldn't see him any differently. Why should they? They wouldn't see her any differently either.

Syndral sighed, averting her gaze. "I guess he sort of can be..." She muttered. The words felt forced, as if they didn't really want to come out, probably because it felt wrong saying them. She didn't like lying, and she didn't like pretending that she didn't like Elim--Mr. Locklear. Perhaps that was the problem. She didn't see him as Mr. Locklear, she saw him as Elim, a fellow agent.

He was a comrade, but more importantly, he was also like a mentor to her. Granted, anyone else would likely see a mentor and teacher as the same thing, but he was more important than that. His similarities to the Zvarraniks didn't deter her like it seemed to with nearly anyone else, but rather made her more comfortable around him. He provided a sense of familiarity that usually had a way of calming her nerves. She appreciated having him around. It bothered her that others saw these traits as negative, and that she had to pretend to not like him as well in order to blend in, and blending in was hard enough as it was. How could she possibly separate Elim from Mr. Locklear, when she couldn't even separate Mari from herself?

Mort had followed silently behind Diane, but in no way intentional was he meaning to be silent. He naturally had a propensity to take light, quiet steps, which wasn't just a trait of his concealed biology (and the concealment he wore ruled out biology as a factor in the first place). In the kinds of work he'd done in the past, stealth was a necessity. And the years of doing said work had trained him to be light-footed, as a simple habit.

Why his quirks in locomotion would be of any importance regarded the possibility that the Rachel human might not even aware of his presence. He decided to test the girl's awareness. Mort had already registered that his colleague initiated a conversation, and was then leaning his back against the wall behind them, arms crossed and gaze following the last of the students with open contempt. The final ones to leave were a few of the jocks from yesterday's... incident, and he had not shied away from expressing his strong distaste for... well, basically their existence, at this point.

He wasn't sure if they had gotten the message yet, what with Mr. White's stifling intimidation tactics that Morph liked to call "deafening silence", a lovely little oxymoron. He also had yet to discover his status with them; where they unfazed by his battle tactics (unlikely), or have they become wary? He vastly hoped-- and quite honestly, expected-- for the latter. Dominance, although intangible, was arguably more powerful than any physical weapon. Whatever, braking their spirits, and all that. He didn't like getting all poetic and crap.

His full attention was brought to the two when he noticed Diane struggling with a response. "Yeah, no kidding. That guy doesn't--" he paused abruptly, "screw around." He would have used a more colorful verb, but Rachel seemed to be the more polite type. He didn't want to scare away a potential subject for study.

Perhaps unbeknownst to Syndral, Rachel didn't always do terribly good with social interactions, either. While she enjoyed talking with people, she didn't always interpret their words or facial expressions the right way, or she simply didn't recognize them to begin with in regard to the latter. Subtle changes in someone else's face or tone didn't always register to her, and while she wasn't nearly as bad as Syndral or Elim in that department, she had her complications in the subject, all the same. So it was for this reason that the human girl didn't seem to recognize Diane's inner conflict in response to her earlier facial expression, nor did she seem to see or hear her sigh of relief.

Instead, Rachel's attention seemed to be completely zoned in on what Diane's response would be. Contrary to her earlier oblviousness, she noticed the slight pause in the other's speech, though she figured it was because Diane was just as careful about choosing her words as she was. When she finally did finish her statement, Rachel seemed to possess a strange mixture of confusion and relief. "So he wasn't...?" She trailed off, unsure of where she was going with that question. 'Mean' would probably have been the obvious conclusion to that question, and that's probably where she had been going, but the human girl didn't like the sound of that question. It sounded a bit like an accusation to her. Besides, Mr. White really hasn't done anything terrible, she reasoned with herself. Sure, he put those jerks in the gym in their place, but they had deserved that.

Maybe she was just a bit intimidated by how scary Mr. White could be. She had been there to hear his demoralizing lecture, and though she hadn't been the one receiving the discipline, his words still managed to get to her, like the aftershock of a huge impact. She supposed that, maybe, she was just scared of ever being the target of one of Mr. White's scoldings. Thinking more deeply - and perhaps more rationally - on the matter, Rachel realized that, so long as she behaved herself, she'd never have to endure such a thing. She felt rather silly as she thought about it now, but the human girl was sensitive at heart and very easily spooked. But she was also rational when she had the time to think, which, as she tended to be driven more by her heart than her mind, wasn't as often as one might think.

Having been thinking all of this through, Rachel realized that she's probably been silent for a long while now. Embarrassed, she looked at the floor, then over Diane's shoulder, then at the ceiling - pretty much anywhere that wasn't her friend's eyes. Waving her hand as a way of dismissing her earlier fragment of a sentence, she said, "Yeah. I guess... I guess I just think that you guys shouldn't have gotten detention. But whatever." 'You guys', of course, was referring to everyone except the offending bullies in the gym.

When Mort spoke up, Rachel startled a bit, saying, "Oh! I didn't see you were there." Great, I stood there in complete silence like an idiot in front of two people, she thought to herself. Forcing herself out of her self-deprecating thoughts, she offered a small, "Yeah," in agreement with Mort.

((OOC: I have two alien characters and one human character. The human character's personality is the hardest one. This makes no sense. ))

While Syndral hadn't given a conscious thought to Morph's presence, she had sensed a heat signature trail behind her. She was too distracted to think much of it at the time, but she still wasn't surprised when Morph spoke up. Instead, perhaps sub-consciously, she merely confirmed that he was there. Meanwhile, her thoughts were more focused on his words and mannerisms. Great, he is superior at social interactions as well. He seems to have no difficulty differentiating between Elim and Mr. Locklear. Why can I not do that?

Her focus was brought back to Rachel at her unfinished sentence. The Zvarranik blinked. Had she figured out that Syndral wasn't bothered by Mr. Locklear? She supposed it was obvious that her words were forced. Perhaps there was no lying to this human, at least not without proper acting skills. Syndral sighed. That was something she just didn't have. She was becoming even more convinced that she was the wrong choice for this mission.

She was preparing herself to explain, or clarify her meaning, or maybe try to salvage that poor excuse for a lie. Syndral really wasn't sure what she wanted to aim for yet, let alone on where to begin in actually choosing her words. She sighed again. Social interactions were exhausting. The day had barely even begun, and she already was getting the feeling that she needed a break. However, the break in conversation didn't last as Rachel continued.

"Receiving detention is not an issue." The Zvarranik replied before taking long to consider her words. "My behavior was unacceptable, so it is understandable that I would receive punishment." Finally something that made sense in her mind and didn't feel wrong to say. It was a simple fact. Facts were good. Facts weren't stressful. She breathed out another sigh of relief. Maybe now the topic would start moving on to less stressful subjects.

ooc: Rachel, why are you so difficult? xD

Ardunayne noted with a sigh the current lack of activity in her current hallway. She took a moment to read her schedule again, wondering if it were wrong, but it couldn't have just changed itself. No, she just had to accept that her first class was going to be lonely, desolate - unless the others were late, which somehow crossed her mind as unlikely. That mattered little. She could accept being alone for a while, maybe just get cozy with the first teacher. If the teacher was dull or unresponsive, she would just jot down some idle notes, random thoughts. It didn't matter too much who she spoke with, and she knew she would cross paths eventually with other children.



Cryktin was about to attempt to raise his ears before forgetting this human disguise's ear was strongly different from his own. Nonetheless, he lifted his head, listening to the surrounding area. For the most part, there was little to hear, mostly silence. He couldn't have gone the wrong way. He had confirmed - twice - the directions he was to follow, and he had been feeling out the walls the way here, slowly forming the beginning of a map in his head. He must have just had to go a little further, walk faster. Don't run. The humans won't like it if you run in the halls. He heard footsteps a moderate ways away, but was uncertain if he was being approached, or if someone that would never notice him was just walking through the general area.



A knocking sound caught Ferdinand's ears, startled him ever so slightly. His reaction was minimal, though, a small jump and nothing more. Not even the slightest bit of audio escaped his mouth, never let off he had a reaction in the first place. To be honest, the psychologist was more surprised that he had a visitor. He hadn't been around all that long, strongly doubted someone needed his assistance already. It's not that he minded the visit. He much preferred the company anyways, someone to have conversation with. He simply did not expect it. He did not yet know enough about the staff and students to gauge who might be visiting him, though he noted the visitor had the courtesy to knock first. Polite, whoever they were. He felt a sort of curiosity, a wonder gnawing at him, questioning who wanted his attention. The first day at a new building was always a gamble, and there was never a guarantee anyone would visit him at all. Inhaling first, he called out "You may come in. The door's always open."

For a split second, Mort seemed to sport a pleased expression, which quickly replaced by his typical demeanor. She had made it clear that she didn't notice him being there, so that answered his previous inquiry.

"Yeah, this was warranted. Can't excuse sending someone to the hospital like that." Despite his words, his tone was tempered to emulate pride, as if his offense on that jock was an accomplishment. And to a small degree, it was, since he expected to be feared at this point. However, he still wished he hadn't have done it. There were many other methods of obtaining social power that he could have used, so his outburst was unnecessary, and did more harm than good to the mission. But they didn't need to know that. That is, the humans.

"The only person who I don't think deserved it was Shane, since he was the one they attacked. That kid was just defending himself." He shrugged. "But it doesn't matter, it's over now. Employers don't look at how many detentions you had in school, anyway, and Shane's a good kid." He turned his head to Rachel to look her in the eye. "If anyone says that to you, they're lying."


OOC: An intriguing irony.
Speaking of personality, after what's been months of me going back to tweak the reference sheet, I think I've finally managed to nail down and summarize Morph's personality. I was never happy with any of the previous descriptions, but now I think I got it. Also, I booted up his height. Again. I swear this is the last time, he was just TOO SHORT. TOO MUCH. And he's in Psychology now, so Rachel wont be alone. But Jax will, oh.
Anyways, I'm looking forward to your involvement, Cipher!

Rachel, amidst her awkward pauses in conversation, noticed that Diane seemed to be sighing a lot. This made her almost want to sigh herself, and maybe curl up in a ball in the corner of the hallway until she disappeared. She had no way of knowing that the other girl's sighs were because of Syndral's own thoughts, so the human girl had little other choice but to assume that it was because of her. Was it something she said? Or maybe something she didn't say? Maybe it was how she said it? The last conclusion seemed like the most probable to Rachel, for her statements have been far from organized or even complete, let alone as neat and sophisticated as Diane's were. Maybe that was the problem. While the human girl could sit and ponder many complicated thoughts, actually articulating what she wanted to say was a challenge for her at times, to the point where her sentences would be fractured and delayed in their deliverment, as they have been lately in this conversation.

How did Diane do it? How could she speak so eloquently all the time, as if choosing the right term or phrase within a moment's notice wasn't difficult at all? How did her words seem to flow so easily from her mouth and so easily convey what she was trying to convey as if it was perfectly natural to her? Rachel wished she had that clarity in her speech. Instead, it seemed like all she could offer Diane was half-formed ideas and fractured sentences. No wonder the other girl was sighing so much.

When Diane did finally speak up again - in such a perfect manner that it seemed as if a computer were speaking to her instead of a human being - Rachel was at first a bit flabbergasted (not for the first time) at how the other girl managed to speak so fluently and formerly in a split second like that. Then - when Diane's actual words registered in her mind after she had marveled at how well delivered they were - she was a bit surprised at how easily the other girl accepted her misconduct. Most students probably would have felt that they had not earned their punishment, but Diane not only accepted her guilt, but was also able to confess to it. The latter was something Rachel wasn't sure she had the courage to do. Finally, after this revelation, Rachel finally seemed to realize that Diane was right - she did deserve her detention for retaliating so brutally, though that wasn't a thought that sat particularly well with her, for whatever reason.

At Mort's concurrence with Diane's words, Rachel supposed that the detention hadn't been as uncalled for as she previously had thought, though she still didn't like the thought of people she considered her friends - or at the very least, acquaintances - getting punished for something. She supposed that, as their acquaintance/friend, it was her first inclination to defend them, even when they logically deserved some sort of disciplining.

After looking from Diane to Mort and back again, Rachel said quietly, "I guess so," in somewhat reluctant agreement. Turning to address Mort, she added, "Yeah, I hope Shane's alright, poor guy." She then thought about his last statement for a time, then, with an almost nervous nod, she said, "Yeah, that's true. Detention still doesn't feel all that great, though."


For a moment, there was no response to Dr. Finch's knocking. The man was pondering if he should knock a bit more loudly - for the room's occupant could be very immersed in some sort of work - when a voice from the other side of the door beckoned him inside. Opening the door and peeking his head inside for a moment like a curious bird, he then entered the room fully, returning the door to the way he found it by closing it gently. Turning to the room's occupant again, Plagarius realized he hadn't the slightest idea what he should say. Speaking was never really an issue with him, or any Corvonian, really, but Plagarius was painfully aware of the fact that he tended to be too... overwhelming. When conversing with members of other species in the rest of the galaxy, Plagarius could almost be... aggressively friendly, in a sense. It was unusual to most, and perhaps a bit uncomfortable as well, but most people knew that it was simply in Corvonians' nature, and so they expected no less.

Here on Earth, however, the man sitting across from him now knew nothing of Corvonians, or even the concept of conversing with a member of a different species. This was uncharted territory, not only to Plagarius but also to Mr. Valentine, who, while he may have met some overly friendly people in his lifetime, has probably never been subjected to a personality as extreme as the Brotherhood member's. The alien simply couldn't behave the way he normally did on this mission, for the sake of appearing as normal as any other human. He had known this before having accepted this mission, but that didn't mean it would prove any less difficult to him.

So while normally the Corvonian would have spoken in such an excited and jovial manner as if the two of them had known each other for years, he instead adopted a calmer demeanor, though when he spoke his obvious friendliness was still very apparent. "You must be Dr. Valentine, yes? I am Dr. Finch, the new school nurse. I was hoping to get to meet you!" Normally, the bird-like alien would have strode forward to put a much smaller distance between himself and the fellow he was speaking to, and he very nearly did. He managed to stop himself from getting inappropriately close, however, and had instead placed himself at a distance where the two of them could comfortably shake hands. With all of the gestures and greetings that involved touch among Corvonians, hand-shaking was actually foreign to them, so Plagarius was actually a bit uncertain - almost cautious, even - as he extended his gloved hand for a handshake.

((OOC: I think my unrealistic guilt about practically everything bled into Rachel's personality. Oops. I think Rachel's personality is the hardest for me because hers is actually a more balanced personality. I mean, Elim and Plagarius are both pretty extreme in their personalities, the former being almost completely unemotional and the latter being super social all the time. That, and Rachel has a lot of contradicting personality traits, so it's hard to determine which part of her personality should become dominant in any given situation and actually determine her actions.
I'll go take a peek at Morph's new and improved character sheet! ))

Syndral blinked at Morph's words. Things really were different here. Employers might not care about your behavior in school on Earth, but they certainly care on Surqorax. They use everything in school, your behavior, grades, work ethic, etc. to determine how you would handle being in the workforce. They used it as an example, and if you weren't good enough, you didn't get the job. School wasn't just for learning and studying on Surqorax, it was also a practice grounds, a prelude to how work would be. If you were struggling in school, then you would struggle in the workforce, and it is highly likely that no one would hire you. You have to go through more years of school and improve before an employer will even give you a second glance.

The Zvarranik had no idea that Rachel was having her own issues with social interactions. The thought didn't really occur to her, and it didn't seem obvious to her in the girl's mannerisms. Syndral hadn't really even given any thought to the possibility. Rachel was human, so she should have natural social skills that the Zvarranik lacked, right? The idea made sense in her mind. Sure, Rachel's speech wasn't all that eloquent, and she had some unfinished thoughts and sentences, but Syndral hadn't thought too much of it. The human's speech still felt more natural than her own. She figured that was just how people were meant to converse, and that her own formality simply didn't fit in. It was just a personal reminder that she didn't belong here, and it made her wonder if she should cut the formalities from her speech.

Syndral gave a slight nod at the mention of Shane. While she personally wasn't fond of him, she did notice how Rachel and Morph seemed to get along with him, and she didn't want to speak ill of him in their presence. Besides, at most, she was mainly annoyed with his antics thus far, but that was mostly true with majority of the humans. He didn't seem like a bad human, she supposed, it was simply that their personalities clashed. Although, despite her opinion, she wouldn't have wished such a harsh beating upon his person. That just seemed excessive and undeserved. No one should be bullied like that.

"Detention was fine. I figured the silence would be peaceful." She stated simply. "It gave me plenty of time to think." Perhaps a little too much time.

ooc: Oh, Rachel, if only you knew what went on in Syndral's head. Maybe someday. x3
Although that unrealistic guilt makes her a more realistic character. xD Yeah, I could see that. The aliens are the two extremes, whereas Rachel is somewhere in the middle. Yeah, contradictions would make it difficult as well. But it makes her interesting. x3
Morph, I swear you're almost like a different person every time I see you. xD
Also when was Morph ever in Band? I don't remember that. Jax has Band for an elective, and I thought he was the only one.

"Heh, if I knew only one thing about that kid, he always finds a reason to be in a good mood," Mort affirmed with a small half-smile, looking down the other side of the hallway. "Besides, sitting down in a desk for an hour or two isn't much of a punishment. Just wastes your time."

He noticed that the girls' exchanges seemed to be... a little awkward. For their own respective reasons. He wasn't surprised, since Rachel seemed to be an odd duck, and with Diane-- Syndral-- he had already suspected how much her formal diction would clash with the simple, often slang-riddled speech patterns of the high school students. He figured that the two would figure it out eventually, though.

Seeing that students were starting to fill in the classrooms, he pushed himself off the wall and turned his attention up to Diane. "We should probably get going. Normandy's class is a bit far from here."


OOC: Oh, trust me, we all do to some extent. This maybe too fitting to say, but it's safe to say that Rachel seems the most human of all the characters. Funny how that works.
Oh, his elective had been "pending" for ever since I've first created him. Jax is the only one with Band, correct. But I plan to introduce a new Brotherhood character sometime in the future, and I'll give him Band so Jax won't be lonely.

Ferdinand smiled as the door opened, as he was greeted by a fellow staff member. The nurse, as he had introduced himself. He had guessed that a staff member would likely be the visitor, and it was a pleasant surprise to see other members of the staff were making an attempt to greet him. It made sense that a nurse, of all the professions available in a school environment, would be interested in meeting him. Though one worked by the physical and the other the mental, the end goal was very much the same, making people happy and healthy. As his visitor spoke and moved through the room, Ferdinand read him, his gestures, his reactions, every subtle movement. It was always interesting to observe the minor details of those around you, to see how they reacted to certain situations, to learn in your mind how a person lived and thought. Ferdinand made little movement as the newcomer moved into the room.

There was clear hesitation in the nurse's movements. There was a delay in movement, a consideration flickering into his eyes that seemed to vanish and race off to a different realm. Although it was unclear exactly why, the nurse seemed to be conflicted over something. There was some action, be it a physical movement or a verbal act, that he had thought about the possibility of. Was it dismissed fully, or had it been partly acted out, left unfinished.

The psychologist's smiled widened further as he accepted his visitor's hand, shaking it gently. "You don't need to be nervous around me." Ferdinand was abrupt in revealing to the nurse that he had read him and his actions. "I saw the hesitation in your eyes as you entered my room. I am uncertain what caused this, but I advise you not to feel like you have to hesitate around me. Please, just see me as a friend, as someone equal to you." Finally, he drew back his hand, placing one palm flat on the desk while the other shifted a pencil to the side, a pointless action. "You may call my Ferdinand. I feel I should appeal to others as their friend, and friends tend to prefer being on a first name basis." He lifted a hand, guiding the eye to a nearby seat. "You may sit if you wish. That is, if you have the time to stick around."

((OOC: I'll reference Ardunayne and Cryktin again once they're in a place where they'll actually cross paths with someone))

"Well that's... good," Rachel replied in response to Diane's words. While she herself probably wouldn't have been able to ever feel anything but miserable during a detention, even if it was virtually uneventful, she was glad that her new friend at least seemed to handle it well. She supposed that if Diane hadn't been bothered by it, then she shouldn't be, either. Having finally established that, the human girl turned to Mort and, for the first time during this conversation, smiled easily and without making any effort to restrain it. "Yeah, Shane always seemed really optimistic." So it was decided then, in Rachel's mind, that she needn't worry herself any further over how the others had fared during detention. If they were alright, she was alright.

So, putting any thoughts of detention or her earlier difficulties in basic communication aside, the girl was about to speak up when the boy mentioned that they should really be getting to their respective classes. Rachel nodded in agreement, if a tad bit reluctantly, and said to both Diane and Mort, "Yeah, you're right. I'll see you guys later, then?"


Plagarius hadn't been entirely certain what to expect of his first real interaction with a human, but what he most certainly didn't expect were the words that Ferdinand first spoke. For a moment he was silent, but naturally, this did not last long at all, and so the silence was quickly broken by gentle laughter, of which nearly sounded like the twittering of many birds. "Oh! Am I truly so easy to read?" he asked merrily in response. "Well, I suppose it is your profession to do so with ease," he added in a somewhat amused tone. Some people might have found it disturbing to be read like an open book, to have their movements and behaviors analyzed by a perceptive eye and a keen mind, but the bird-like alien was far from perturbed. In fact, he was actually quite comfortable with it. Corvonians were very open creatures, so they didn't have the same sense of their minds being "probed" as some more reserved species did. They were also very perceptive creatures themselves, and often make a point of making themselves aware of other people's feelings. So Plagarius didn't mind Ferdinand's observations at all, but instead, found his behavior to be rather akin to a concerned Corvonian's.

As the psychologist continued, the Brotherhood agent only felt more and more elated. This man was not only looking forward to a professional relationship, but one of friendship as well?! He could barely contain his excitement! Spurred on by this feeling of astounding joy, Dr. Beake's initially strictly professional, almost a bit timid handshake changed dramatically. His free hand came into the handshake as he rested it gently the other man's hand, all the while shaking the psychologist's hand more enthusiastically. When the man drew his hand away, Plagarius did the same, if a bit reluctantly. Still, he listened intently as the human spoke, and when he finally finished, the Corvonian was happy to give his nearly ecstatic, lengthy reply.

"I do have the time to stay, if you will have me," he replied. He did not sit, however, for he was too energized by his excitement to actually sit down, and his enthusiasm was made perfectly clear by the emphatic movements of his hands as he continued to speak. "You've no idea how delighted I am to hear that you would be willing to view me as your friend. With such a relationship between us - you, a healer of the mind, and I, one of the body - imagine what we could accomplish together! The good we could do for those who attend this school! You must understand, my good man, I had been forced to prepare myself for the worst, that you would not think so kindly of me, and that this could hinder the way we worked together, if we worked together at all! This hospitality you have shown me thus far makes me marvel at the possibilities between the two of us! You've no idea how much I look forward to working with you, and getting to know you! I imagine we've much to talk about!"

The Corvonian paused for a moment to take a breath, and in that moment he realized that in everything he had said, he had still managed to forget one very important thing. Bowing his head ever so slightly, he told Ferdinand in still a very happy tone, "Ah, forgive me, kind sir. In my excitement I nearly forgot to tell you my given name." Placing a hand on his chest - for Corvonians used gestures just as much, if not more than, they did speech - Dr. Beake told him solemnly, "My name is Corbin, and I am more than happy to make your acquaintance!"


((OOC: Well, it's good that Rachel's human in her personality. That makes the aliens seem all the more alien. X3
I don't think Ferdinand truly comprehends what he has done. He's unleashed the clingy, overly attached bird on himself. X3 Oh, and I finally gave Plagarius a human first name. Elim will probably never have one because he'll insist on people calling him by his human surname. X3))

Syndral didn't comment anything on Shane, as she didn't really have anything to add. Still, she was relieved to see that her human companion was more at ease now. While she figured it was due to the topic of conversation more than anything else, seeing Rachel relax helped her to relax a little. However, she was still certain that her social skills needed work, and was worried that she may have already ruined things with Rachel.

She gave a nod to Morph as well, as he was right, they needed to get going. She had already gotten in trouble for yesterday's events, she didn't want to add a tardy on top of that. Although she wasn't as concerned with maintaining a perfect record here, as things were more lenient, besides she already ruined that anyway. Instead, Syndral was more concerned with her job, and at the moment, the aspect of blending in as a human. She was sure she had failed miserably so far, and the latest interaction with Rachel started making her wonder if she could maintain any sort of relationship here.

When Rachel spoke up again, Syndral gave a small smile of her own. So the human girl wanted to talk to her again? That was a promising sign in her perspective. She apparently hadn't failed as miserably as she thought, if Rachel was willing to talk to her again. Unless she was just being nice, or pretending to like her. She knew no Zvarranik would ever bother with things like that. They only talked to the people they actually wanted to talk to, unless they had to for business reasons. She sort of hoped that Rachel didn't feel obligated to talk with her, although either way, being able to maintain a relationship with her was good for research purposes.

"Yes, we can always talk more later." She nodded to the human girl. She paused for a moment, wondering if she should add anything. Although everything she thought of sounded too formal, so she decided against it. Maybe leaving things on that note would be better. After all, she would have another chance to talk to her later. So with that, Syndral glanced at Morph before turning to leave.

As she began to head down the hallway, she glanced back over her shoulder at Rachel. A part of her still wanted some form of confirmation, perhaps an even clearer sign, that she wasn't completely failing at interacting with her. Syndral didn't want to chase Rachel off out of fear that she may not find someone else she can manage to hold a conversation with. In her mind, she didn't have a lot of viable options. She couldn't lose her. She could actually tolerate this human, and the human girl apparently wasn't bothered by her either. Syndral didn't want to ruin that.

ooc: Yeah, it works out nicely. x3
Oh dear, here we go. Let's see how long that friendship lasts before Ferdinand gets tired of him. xD Oh good, I was wondering about that. I meant to ask about his first name at some point, mostly for Vuxta's sake, but I forgot. xD Good, so Vuxta can call him something other than Dr. Beake, which I thought would be weird since they're supposed to be married. x3
Yeah, I remembered Morph not really having an elective yet, so I was confused. I thought you had meant that you took him out of band, since you had mentioned Jax would be alone instead. But at least he'll eventually have a buddy in band with him.

A wave of joy flowed through Ferdinand, a bountiful river which prosperously flowed, peaceful, but alive. Ah soon as he had introduced himself as a friend, the tension the nurse had initially entered the room with lifted. It was almost instantaneous too, as if a heavy burden had suddenly been lifted off the man's shoulders. Part of Ferdinand was almost amused when the changed occurred, as he listened to the elated way the nurse raced through his words, oxygen barely supplying enough breath to get them all out in a timely fashion. He certainly hadn't been expecting this large scale of a change, but there was certainly no harm in it. If anything, it was good, as it meant the nurse already felt more than comfortable in the psychologist's presence. He simply patiently waited through the dialogue, hardly moving from his position, holding firm eye contact with the nurse as each individual word escaped his mouth. He wanted to work together? Interesting. While the idea had been no more than a fleeting one, he couldn't deny it had crossed his mind, and it certainly held merit. He could see it in the nurse; it was like gears were grinding in his head, piecing through the many possibilities the future held. He seemed excited, eager.

Ferdinand simply had to establish a single thought in his mind, a firm reminder that this fellow was not one of the students. He had always been a little quick to view everyone as a potential patient, evaluate them upon sight and begin to isolate problems of any sort. That wasn't a case that needed to be driven home with a staff member - not that Ferdinand wouldn't offer his help to one, should they request it of him - as they had their own methods, ideas, they were fully developed minds.

"I had no idea this much excitement was being contained," Ferdinand spoke up with a laugh, finally finding a moment he could slip in without interrupting. "That's good, though, expected in a way. One can only keep a force contained for so long before it breaks free, and I'm glad I could bring you ease." Ferdinand lifted a hand, placed it on his neck for a sheer moment as he cleared his throat. "You seem to look far to the future, and that's good. The future is what's important, where we'll all be one day. No point crawling in a place where achievement can no longer be found." The psychologists words came out much more slowly than the nurse's, passive, calm in many ways. At this moment, though, he minded not the energy. He partly felt a childlike energy, though he also interpreted motivation driving the nurse along. "My job is not to judge people. I am here to create a place where all people are equal, and cared for. I want others to step into my room, and feel the hostilities of the world crumble away at their feet. I would never instantly dislike you. A person would have to give me a pretty solid reason to feel such a way, and you have certainly not made that impression." Not yet, anyways.

He bowed his head, as a warm glow lit up his face. "I look forward to working with you, Corbin."

((OOC: Ferdinand has unknowingly unleashed the birdie upon himself, a mistake he isn't even aware he made. He's a pretty patient man, but only time will tell if he can survive that one.))

"Yeah, there'll be plenty of time later today," Mort added, detecting mild disappointment in Rachel's tone. "Like lunch, and gym-- wait, no, today's art." He gave a nod to Diane's glance and followed closely behind. "Dang it, I suck at art. It better be graded on participation."

He was actually somewhat grateful for the different subject, since the negative memories from yesterday still bothered him. A day away from that place was good, despite preferring physical activity far over sitting around at a desk. The fact that he would have to stay idle for almost the whole day miffed him. However, it didn't do so as much as it normally would have, as he was anticipating making up for his mistakes. Today, he wasn't going to let his guard down. No surprises were going to make him act out of line this time, so he determined.

Besides, he'd get to spend the day with an old comrade. But, unaware to him, Syndral wasn't going to be the only agent he'd be catching up with.


OOC: He'll be begging for the bird to just peck off his ears already.
Morph has little to no artistic ability or musical talent. He'd suck in band, ha ha.

At Diane's little smile, Rachel's own smile widened a bit with happiness. She didn't know what it was about it, but seeing the other normally so formal and reserved girl show any sort of emotion on her otherwise serious face was so thrilling to see. Her tiny smiles were the best, the human girl decided, and so she was resolved to get that smile to show itself more often. She didn't have the slightest idea how she was going to go about doing this, as she wasn't so sure the other girl appreciated humor, which, for most people, trying to be funny was probably the most obvious way to get them to smile. Diane was different from most people, however, so the task of getting her to smile more often was far more a challenge than a simple endeavor. Rachel seemed determined to take on this quest, however, and so she would!

...When she actually got to see Diane again, that is.

For now, the very person who made up the entirety of her little mission was heading off to her next class, as she should. This didn't seem to deter Rachel at all, however, for as Mort said, there would be plenty of times they'd get to interact. What did seem to worry the human girl slightly was the other girl's lack of a farewell. Was she just trying to get away from her? The thought was irrational, for really, Diane probably wouldn't have stopped to greet Rachel at all if it was her intention to get away from her, but the fretful girl didn't always come to these conclusions right away, so for a few moments she was left to worriedly watch her new friend's retreating back.

This anxiety was immediately eliminated and replaced by her earilier happiness and also a feeling of hope when Diane glanced back at her almost questioningly. Giving the other girl a small wave of departure in return, Rachel told her, "Alright, I'll see you later then!" She then laughed at Mort's assessment of his artistic abilitiy, and called after him encouragingly, "You'll be fine!"

Realizing she'd best get to her own class, Rachel closed the distance between herself and the open doorway to math class, a happy grin still on her face as she stepped into the room.

"Ms. Emerson."

The girl froze and paled when she heard that voice, with that tone. Looking up meekly to Mr. White, she didn't have the chance to get to say anything before he asked, whilst looking down at her severely from behind his glasses, "Are you aware of what time it is, Ms. Emerson?"

"The...?" She trailed off in a mix of confusion, then realization, then horror. She looked towards the clock to confirm her worries, and also to look anywhere but at the mathematics teacher.

Said teacher regarded her mutely for a moment, perhaps waiting for a reply, perhaps simply letting his silence do the talking. He eventually spoke up again, however, saying slowly, "You are approximately two minutes late. This may be a minor misdemeanor, but one that is unacceptable, and one I will not tolerate, all the same."

She couldn't look at him. She couldn't look at any of them - the teacher who was lecturing her, her fellow classmates who were no doubt staring at her. Their eyes were drilling into her, she could feel it, and she couldn't stand it, so her eyes remained trained on the floor where she didn't have to look at any of them.

Adjusting his glasses - a gesture Rachel could not see - Mr. White went on, "This warrants disciplinary action of some sort. However, you should be competent enough not to repeat this mistake." Staring at the girl the way a bird of prey might regard a tiny, quivering mouse, the math teacher asked, in a way that seemed more like a command, "This won't happen again, will it, Ms. Emerson?"

"...No," the girl, who seemed so small now in her hunched, defensive, fearful posture, managed to squeak just barely audibly.

He must have heard it - or merely knew it was the only viable answer she could give - for he answered simply, "Good. Now sit. If you are capable of following that simple direction."

Rachel did so, slinking down into her chair and staring at her desk, afraid to meet anyone's eyes.


The nurse laughed along easily with the psychologist, now that the human man had asserted that he would rather Plagarius didn't refrain from being himself. "Nor did I! Truly, I knew I was anticipating my first day here, and was quite anxious to meet you, but even I wasn't quite aware of just how excited I was!" He laughed again - more quietly this time, and more out of amusement than sheer joy - as he thought of just how much Ferdinand's words applied to him. "It was bound to happen, I should think," he said with a humorous tone. "I simply cannot contain my enthusiasm." Or anything else, really. That really, really wasn't a good thing, especially on a mission such as this and when his personality was so extreme it could make even the most social people a bit weary of him. But the psychologist had insisted that he not keep his normal demeanor in check, and this acceptance was so... beautiful to him, that he simply could not contain himself anymore.

Vuxta wasn't going to be happy with him. Or this human who encouraged his erratic behavior.

"Then you understand! How I was hoping you would!" the Corvonian told him excitedly. "I do try, my good man, to work towards a better future. There are so many things we can do now, in order to protect what has yet to come. It is comforting to have someone around with that same mindset." And indeed, it was. To the Brotherhood agent, he felt that he was doing the best he could in the interests of not only Earth's future, but the future of the entirety of the galaxy. It certainly wasn't always easy trying to protect the futures of those the Order would sooner see stripped of a future at all, but it was moments like these that gave Plagarius hope and reminded him just WHY he was doing what he was doing. He needed to protect Earth's future, this man's future. This human, who seemed to be far more compassionate than the Order would ever admit any human to be. This is what he protected, and what he would always protect.

At the psychologist's last statements, Dr. Finch's child-like excitement seemed to dissipate just a bit, enough for more solemn and heartfelt words to be delivered. "You have an incredible profession. And you seem like one who has a beautiful sense of empathy. I cannot convey how happy I am to be able to work with one such as yourself." This time the Corvonian either didn't have the mind to stop himself or simply could not, for he stepped forward and gave the man a gentle pat on the shoulder. By Corvonian standards, this was hardly even anything worth mentioning. Human standards were different, however, so it was impossible to tell how the psychologist might react.


((OOC: Sorry Rachel, I couldn't help but have Elim be a scary, cruel frogman. D:
Plagarius is already touching people. Someone get Vuxta so she can smack some sense into him. In the bird's defense, though, he could have done something a lot more invasive than just a pat on the shoulder. That stuff will probably come later. ))

OOC: Huh, I didn't think the conversation was that long. And Rachel was right next to her class, so I don't see how she could be late. But maybe I'm being nitpicky. What do you guys think?

In response to Rachel's wave and following words, Syndral nodded and offered up another smile. Maybe there was actually nothing to worry about with Rachel. There didn't seem to be any sign of chasing her off, at least not yet. The Zvarranik turned her attention to Morph at his comment on his artistic skills. "You are not the only one lacking in artistic ability. I can only draw a blueprint, and I use a computer for that."



As Rachel was taking her seat in class, Dax was still making his way there. He stumbled down the hallway, with a hunched posture, and half-closed sleepy eyes. He nearly tripped over his own feet a few times, and his untied shoelaces didn't help matters any. He groaned almost like a zombie, likely walking similarly to one right now. Finally, he reached Mr. White's classroom. He fumbled into the room, almost falling, but he managed to catch himself. He seemed to pay no attention to the math teacher or his fellow students as he searched the room for an empty desk. He bumped into a few occupied ones, and very nearly sat on someone before realizing that desk was taken. Finally, he found an empty one in front of Rachel, and promptly plopped down into it. He had barely managed to turn and face the proper direction, before his head hit the surface of a desk. Only it wasn't his desk he was now snoozing on, but Rachel's. He was clearly too far gone already to even realize the blonde girl was there.

ooc: Aww, poor Rachel. Dax probably won't even notice, though. xD Also it probably wasn't the conversation itself that was long, but the thoughtful pauses the girls had before replying. It's probably going to be a recurring theme with them that like half of their conversation is just thinking, making their conversations take longer than they should. x3 So Rachel was probably late because she was too busy thinking of other things before actually going to class.
Also, somewhere in the school, a Sagabi is sighing because she just knows her comrade is bothering someone. xD Vuxta should get over there quickly before things get out of hand. Oh, wait, she has a class. Oh well. She's not coming to the rescue anytime soon. xD

"Yeah, whatever," Mort said dryly in response to Rachel's encouragement. He turned his attention back to Diane. "Well, at least you can do something practical. All I can do is slap a bunch of random colors on a canvas and call it 'art'. And crappy, incoherent sketch drawings. But whatever, it's no big deal."

He noticed that there was almost no one in the hallways, save for a few kids, one of which who was stumbling through as if he were drunk. Although, as he could now see, the stumbling was due to his untied shoelaces. "Geez, man, it's only the second day," Mort said after he passed in front of him and out of earshot. "Wait, did the bell ring already? We need to go, come on--" he quickened his pace to a light jog. "I mean, heck if I care if I'm late, but I've had enough discipline for one day."


---


OOC: Well, at least Jax's misdemeanor will greatly overshadow Rachel's.
Now that you say that, I can see what you mean. Those pauses could have been really long. For some reason I was thinking that if Rachel was late just walking back to class, everyone else would be really late. But maybe I'm not thinking of all the possibilities, because her just lingering and thinking, if she did that, could have made her late. I don't know, I liked seeing her and Elim interact like that, and a post that long takes forever to type, so I don't want to make her change it.
That man might just need a shock collar. A mild, quick shock for every boundary overstepped. Oh, but that's more of a Order kind of thing.

Ardunayne heaved a sigh as she entered the classroom. Things were pretty silent, eerily so. Part of her was unnerved by the silence, wished to trot from the room and seek activity, but she knew in this guise, it would be inappropriate. Thus, she took a seat. Time would change.



Ferdinand listened closely, aware of the excitement racing through the nurse's every pore as he spoke. There was speed and haste to his words, driven by a thrill for the future, for what could be. He was willing to listen for as long as the nurse wished to speak, taking in each and every word and considering what should be verbally acknowledge when he was given a chance to speak up. He minded not. Some people were talkative by nature, others were not. Ferdinand had worked around both and had learned to adapt to both those who would speak for elongated periods of time, and those you had to coax words out of. The excessive talking actually warmed him up inside, gave him a small and fond reminder of one of his children. The nurse's excitement was fading just a tad, but it was still there, trying to hide itself, but never truly gone.

He hardly reacted to the pat on the shoulder. If anything, it amused him, to see the nurse was so quickly settling into a social relation with him. It would take far more than a mere pat on the shoulder to warrant a disgruntled reaction from him. He didn't shudder, twitch, or shy away. It was a minor action of no fault. He could not be harmed by such an action, nor was it invasive in his mind.

"I have worked with children of wavering personalities. I encourage them to look for the good in the world, to see all the beauty this world and the people in it have to offer. I want - need - to see others happy," Ferdinand began, leaning forward a little in his seat. "I took this job for that very reason, and I specifically chose children because they are our future, they are what the world will become. Your profession is no less important than mine, though. You mustn't count yourself out. Without you, my work would mean little. People like you and myself, we support each other."



Cryktin could feel it, the nerves racing through his every muscle. He wasn't even confident of his abilities to navigate without pinpoint audio surrounding him, but now he would face the humans. They could be scary. He didn't want to think of them as bad, never wanted to think that. However, he couldn't deny they were a trifle intimidating. Was he late? When he had slipped in the doorway, he hadn't been certain. He tried to remain unnoticed, moving quietly and stealthily. Though this human guise damaged his hearing abilities a little, he could still hear noise. Voices were around him, movement as people shuffled to seats and pulled out chairs. He weaved around the area where the noise culminated, tried to avoid being a part of it.

He wanted to find a seat which would not be too close to another, possibly in the back of the room. He had continued to listen, isolating the activity epicenter, moved away. He started placing his hand on nearby objects. First he found the wall, moved away a little and found a large table. This was the corner of the room. He took a moment to think. The activity was off to his right, and he had mostly hugged the wall through the room. The room was slowly forming in his mind, a raw, poorly detailed map that gave him a general idea of his surroundings. He took a guess, turned 180 degrees. He reached out a hand and it rested on a chair.

There we go. An isolated desk. Just what Cryktin was looking for.

((OOC: Yeah, Syndral and Rachel really didn't say all that much, but their long pauses of thinking and deciding what they're going to say are what took up the most time. They spend most of the time during their "conversations" in awkward - or sometimes pleasant - silence instead of actually talking. X3 That, and I did want to write that bit with Elim and Rachel interacting with each other. Aside from Rachel fetching Mr. White so he could bring order to the gym (where I really didn't even show them interacting at all) I haven't written a scene where Rachel and Elim really even acknowledge each other's presence, much less demonstrate how they interact. We've had Rachel sort of think to herself how scary Mr. White can be, but that's about it. Elim, on the other hand, hasn't really even given Rachel a single thought or glance this entire roleplay (if I'm remembering correctly). So yeah, I wanted to establish some sort of relationship between the two characters, and just confirm that yes, Elim is a scary frogman.

((Oh, and something I wanted to ask the Cynder09: Is this Jax's first day of school? Or was he present the first day, but just wasn't mentioned because he wasn't "created" yet? I ask because it affects how Elim will treat him. If it's his first day of school, then Elim might be more lenient with him and might not murder him. If it's his second day of school like everybody else's, Elim will be much more harsh. I personally have made today Plagarius's first day of work at the school, since I want to roleplay those moments where he and our grumpy Order members will meet for the first time. X3 But whatever you are more comfortable with in regards to Jax is fine with me. :3))

ooc: Yeah, exactly. Their conversations are more silent thinking than actual talking. xD Maybe they'll get past that awkwardness at some point. x3 But it is nice to see how Elim and Rachel interact, even though the interaction itself wasn't all that nice. I still like the scene though. x3 And I find it interesting how she finds Mr. White scary but has yet to actually see Diane be scary. x3

(Oh, I feel like I should have mentioned that now. I had imagined that, yes, this would be his first day. He skipped the actual first day for reasons. x3 But even if that wasn't the case, he'd still be late today, and would have been late yesterday. I almost want it to be his second day just so Elim can destroy him. xD or at least try to. Jax is probably too tired to notice right now. xD But I guess Elim can always yell at him tomorrow for showing up late again, or yell at him today for sleeping through class. xD Point is, Elim will probably kill him sooner or later. Jax is a slacker, so I imagine their relationship isn't going to be a good one. xD I'd ask Rachel to keep him alive, but I get the feeling she wouldn't make a good bodyguard. xD)



"I never said I had actual skill in drawing the blueprint. All I do is come up with a basic sketch of the idea I had, and the computer does the rest for me. It's not art, it's making a plan so that I have a reference when I start to actually build the robot." Syndral explained.

At Morph's comment on the kid in the hallway, she turned to get a look at him herself before he stumbled into his classroom. Was he drunk? Were human adolescents allowed to even get drunk? Why was he in such poor shape on only the second day? Was he ill? Before she could theorize further on the matter, Morph spoke up again. She blinked. They were officially tardy.

Syndral quickened her pace as well, and very nearly broke out into a full on dash, if not for her companion's words and overall attitude about the situation. It was a reminder that, at most, they would likely only get a lecture and another detention. "At least the discipline is not as severe as it is where I am from." No one would scoff at a tardy on Surqorax, or take the consequences of one lightly. It was a relief to not have to stress over a perfect record, but a part of her still wanted to hurry to class and do her best just in case. Even though the mission was far more important than how she did in this Earth school.

Still, she couldn't help but feel a little foolish for not being able to prevent something as simple as a tardy. If only she hadn't been so distracted by Rachel, and making sure that the social interaction went smoothly. Had Syndral not have been as focused on that, perhaps she could have kept in mind what time it was, and when she would have to leave in order to make it to class on time.

"I don't doubt that. We'll probably only get scolded and have a tardy on our records, at worst. They're super lenient here. They're not even allowed to use corporal punishment here. Surprising, since--" Realizing how odd his assessment of the school probably sounded to the passing students, he added, "I mean, at my old school they didn't, either. But I've heard of some in other states that allow it, and for a while I thought that this one was one of them. Anyway, we've got nothing to worry about."

Pretty soon, they arrived to their class, Mr. Normandy. He halted and peered inside the classroom. The teacher in question was reading through some papers boredly and the students were talking with one another. A few were reading ahead on the book for that class.
"Funny, I don't think I heard the bell ring, but the hallways cleared out really fast. Maybe we weren't paying attention. They don't look like they've begun yet. He probably won't notice us coming in, let's hurry." Mort walked inside at a quick place, but not too fast to draw attention. He looked behind him to see if Diane was following before sitting in his seat.


OOC: I'm glad I didn't have him as a teacher in high school, haha... he'd probably want to dissect my brains.
Quote: Cynder09

Morph, I swear you're almost like a different person every time I see you. xD

I don't know how I didn't see this before, but I just noticed today and I had a good laugh. It's really true, he changed drastically and I still couldn't figure out what his personality is! Well, now I think I've finally got it down. Also, the way he's acting now is the most normal. This is his usual behavior. Now you know, because all you guys have seen so far is him being angry and/or awkward.

Rachel was still staring at her desk, afraid to look anywhere else and lost in her self-deprecating thoughts. While Mr. White had really done nothing but scold her, the human girl was still shaken up about it. Other teenagers in her situation might not have cared in the slightest about what their teacher thought of them or how well they performed in school, but this was Rachel's entire world. Her academics, as well as how she conducted herself within the school setting, were two things that she cared dearly about. Similar to Diane, the human girl took her responsibilities very seriously. Her grades had to be nearly perfect, her behavior had to always be acceptable. This is what she demanded of herself, and any tiny thing that compromised one of those two departments always treatened to shatter her. The thought of one of her teachers being so obviously disappointed in her - much more the fact that she had done something to deserve that scorn - was something that was tearing her apart as she sat mutely at her desk, her eyes stinging ever so slightly.

The sound of someone stumbling into the room broke Rachel out of her little bubble of misery and got her to look up at who it was. For a split second, the girl was almost relieved that she wasn't the only one who had been late, but she viciously crushed that thought the moment it formed in her mind. How could she be so selfish, to be relieved at the prospect of someone sharing her fate, just so she wasn't alone in that regard? She tried to force that unpleasant thought from her mind, though it was difficult, for once she got upset, it was so very easy for her to get upset about everything. Instead, she focused on just who it was entering the room. Jax? That most certainly made sense. But why was he so disheveled? Well, she supposed it was because he was Jax. But why had he missed the first day of school? She supposed the answer to that could just as easily be, 'Because he was Jax', but she was still curious about the details.

Her curiosity lasted for but a moment, because her nerves were immediately acting up again as the boy plopped in his seat in front of her and his head dropped onto her desk. The girl's eyes flicked up for a moment to Mr. White, but she didn't really get a good look at him because really, she didn't want to get a good look at him, so she immediately returned her worried gaze to Jax. Poking at his tangled mess of hair urgently, she hissed desperately, "Wake up! You need to wake up!"

"Mr. Palmer. Mr. Davis."

Rachel flinched and shrunk back a bit when Mr. White spoke Jax's name. Jax was sitting right in front of her, snoozing on her desk, and that put the girl within the teacher's direct line of sight, with his eyes no doubt narrowed in her - and Jax's - direction. That wasn't something the girl wanted to have to endure again, even if the man wasn't even addressing her at all. When her initial spike of fear died down, the teacher's words finally registered in her mind. Mr. Davis? Who was Mr. Davis? Gathering the nerve to glance about, Rachel spotted the boy just as he was finding his seat. As she looked more closely, she noticed the way his hands searched for the chair, and how his eyes stared blankly ahead, never once looking here and there. Is he blind? Rachel asked herself.

"You must be aware," continued the math teacher, "that you are late for class. This is both unacceptable and negligent on your part. Under normal circumstances I would discipline the two of you far more severely." Sighing, he went on, "However, given that this is your first day here - given that both of you neglected to arrive here yesterday - I will be more lenient, but only this once," he warned them. "You will find that I am normally not so forgiving."

With that, Mr. White was seemingly content to leave it at that, and was in the process of retrieving a stack of papers from his desk when the bell rang. Wait... what? Rachel thought to herself, looking to the clock, which read a few minutes past 8:15. Did the bell go off late? the girl asked herself, confusedly.


When the doctor recieved no negative reaction from Ferdinand in response to that pat on the shoulder, Plagarius's happiness skyrocketed. He wasn't sure if humans would be so recipient in regards to physical contact, but it seemed that, at the very least, this particular human didn't seem to mind it at all. This made the Corvonian so much more comfortable, for he had been forced to accept the possibility that he would have to work constantly towards keeping his demeanor and use of physical contact in check, something that would have proved immensely difficult for him. While he could hardly act exactly the way he always did - what with him having to hide the fact that he was an alien and such - he wasn't having to put up a constant struggle, either. The psychologist was very accepting of him, something that would make this mission a lot easier for the Corvonian. Oh, he could just hug this caring little human! But he couldn't, he knew, for it would hardly be appropriate to actually hug the man, by human standards, at least.

So instead, Dr. Finch simply focused on the psychologist's words, for while he was notorious for constantly breaking barriers of physical contact, Plagarius was always a good listener, regardless of differences in cultures. At Ferdinand's proclamation that he needed others to be happy, the bird-like alien nodded, in both understanding and agreement. The Corvonian also felt a desire - a need - to see people happy and healthy, to the point where he often tended to sacrifice his own well-being in the interests of others, both as a doctor and as a friend. So he definitely understood where the other man was coming from, and felt more and more that the two of them had a lot in common.

As Ferdinand continued - now noting that his role as a doctor was just as critical as his own role as a psychologist - Dr. Finch's human face smiled humbly, almost a bit bashfully. Plagarius knew his role as a doctor was very helpful to others, but the Corvonian wasn't the type to think too highly of himself. He was far from the sort who degrades oneself; he was simply a modest individual who didn't like to boast, and always felt touched when someone offered him praise.

Finally taking a seat - perhaps because he was now calm enough to, or perhaps because he wanted to find a subtle way of stopping himself from invading the psychologist's personal space any further - the doctor said serenely, "It is my hope that we can assist each other marvelously, then, so that the children - and all who come here - might benefit from us as much as they possibly can."

Syndral nodded in agreement at what Morph guessed their punishment to be. It did seem most likely, at least here on Earth. If all they did was give out detention for fighting, than surely a tardy was hardly worth mentioning. Although, similarly, she had believed the punishments here to be far worse than they ended up being. She didn't mind being wrong about that, though.

The Zvarranik stopped behind him when they arrived at class. At the mention of the bell, she realized that she didn't remember hearing it either. Strange, it seemed like it would have gone off by now. Was there a malfunction? Was someone slacking on their job? She couldn't be sure, but she supposed it worked in their favor. Syndral didn't understand how the teacher wouldn't notice, but clearly the teachers here were incompetent. She quickly slipped inside behind Morph, and made her way to a desk. She didn't hesitate to sit down, wanting to give off the appearance of being there the whole time.



Dax simply snoozed away, completely dead to the world, unresponsive to anything. That is, until someone started poking his hair and hissing at him. With a groan, he raised a hand to swat at the person poking him. "Five more minutes..." He mumbled, before swating at his own face. He simply left his hand sitting there as he seemed to drift off back into dreamland.

At the mention of his name, he raised his hand again with a quiet "Yo," as he usually did when his name was called for roll. Afterwards, his hand plummeted back down, dangling there like a lifeless limb. Then he heard some familiar words, as he often heard similar speeches for being late. "It's all cool, dude, just gimme like twenty minutes and we'll call it even." He muttered. He was too out of it to consider his words, or think of how flawed his idea was that he was apparently owed for arriving late.

Although that was just how Dax was, especially when fatigued. While he was normally a rather calm slacker, unfazed by a lot of things, that relaxed attitude was only magnified by being sleep deprived, which seemed to be often. The human boy was nearly completely useless when he hadn't received enough sleep, and lacked any concerns that didn't involve getting more sleep.

When Diane finally sat down, the teacher not giving so much as an upward glance, Mort gave a quiet sigh of relief. Despite his previous concerns, the bell rang very soon after they arrived.

"Alright, just give me one more minute here, kids," Mr. Normandy said tiredly as he continued to file through papers.

"Huh, I guess we're fine, then," Mort said quietly. When the two were talking with Rachel earlier, he wasn't keeping track of the exact time. All of those awkward, long pauses made the conversation draw out, perhaps giving the illusion of more time passing. Regardless of what had gone through his mind then, they were at class on time. Before he got comfortable, however, he noticed that Diane was sitting two desks in front of him, in the arrangement they were before. He decided to close the gap between them.

Giving one more brief peak at Mr. Normandy, who was now fiddling on his computer to take attendance, Mort stood up from his seat. He hesitated, his fingers tightening on the back of the chair. Would any of the students be watching? Would they think anything of it? The action might look weird to them, especially yesterday when Shane assumed that...
Who cared about them, anyway? What about Syndral? She was reserved, and he knew for a fact that she liked having her space. She might not want that to be intruded...
But then again, she'd been struggling with adapting properly to the school culture. Mort, however, was having little to no issue doing so. The Zvarranik would need assistance with social interactions, and he was her best bet in this class. She'd probably be appreciative of his willingness to help.

At this point, Mort decided that he was overthinking the action he wanted to execute. He fought back the nervous throbbing in his stomach and let go of the chair, swinging into the seat directly behind his comrade. He exhaled to release the pressure inside and reached under the other desk to drag his backpack to him. When he got settled, he waited to see Diane's reaction, if she'd even react at all.

Mr. Normandy had already called Diane's last name while Mort was having his dilemma, and he simply responded "here" when his was.

Ardunayne's eyes lit up at the sign of activity around her. She has been early? What a surprise. Promptness wasn't something she often excelled in, given her habit of existing on her own private time schedule, so the sudden realization that she had been not only prompt, but early, was a shock. Regrettably, she had been so focused on her own thoughts, that she hadn't even noticed the other students filing it, almost immediately.

Damn! She had been hoping to chat some of them up. Instead, she observed. Mr. Normandy's attention had been diverting back and forth between different areas of the room - distracted, or merely in thought, she knew not. Whenever his attention was elsewhere, Ardunayne shifted in her seat, observing the other students, the mixture which surrounded her. She could almost feel the auras radiating from their bodies, everything from nervous to confident drifting through the room. She let her eyes fall on several other people, uninterested by most of them. She hadn't been around humans for long, but she had certainly seen them before. Boring, annoying, and so uninteresting. Yet, she knew there were others like her around, though she had yet to learn exactly where each person was at, which schedules her comrades were following.

Her eyes had locked on one of the smaller students when her name had called. She twirled in her seat, alert, and energetically responded that she was present. She would approach the more interesting people when class ended.



Cryktin had heard the downfall of activity, thought for a moment. Then a bell loudly rang nearby. For a fleeting moment, he jumped, a sharp shiver running down his back at the sound of the loud noise. Quickly, he collected himself. It was the school bell, to inform students of when they were considered late. Not a threat. He sighed. So he hadn't been late. That was good. He hadn't wanted to accept the consequences of such an action, especially not on his very first day. It already occurred to him that this was the second day of school, that he had failed to attend day one. He didn't want to add anything else to his list of error, certainly not being late. It was a relief, once he had gotten over the loud ringing sound, that is.

From listening to the teacher's voice, he didn't sound like he'd be fun to interact with should lateness occur. Cryktin could hear it in the teacher's voice, the dullness, the lack of positive emotion - or much emotion at all, really. He sounded like the sort who took his job very seriously, a sort that the little Quaerere would be terrified to deal with. Luck had made him on time, and he hoped luck would continue to be with him.



The nurse had taken a seat now. Ferdinand figured eventually the nurse would tire of standing, legs seeking respite in a chair, and certainly enough, he had taken that chance. The entire time, Ferdinand had been considering standing up, finding the longer he sat while hie visitor stood it made him feel wrong. In his mind, he felt like he was insulting the nurse, enjoying the comfort of a seat while he continued standing. He simply had to remind himself that sitting was a personal choice, and were someone not inclined to do so, they had every right to. It wasn't as though he hadn't offered a seat, so that was a start.

Energy was vanishing now. It was clear as soon as the nurse sat down that he was calming a little, though for a fleeting moment it had appeared as though the polar opposite was occurring. There was still joy lurking in the room, but it was a far more controlled emotion. Ferdinand had hardly shifted emotions, trying to remain calm and collected, polite and understanding, friendly and opening. He did not want to put up any awkward barriers, anything that for a moment seemed as though he didn't enjoy the company. Quite the opposite, he loved it. Almost sought it.

The nurse finally spoke up, a single thought crawling out of his mind and escaping from his mouth. "If there is ever any way my knowledge can assist you, you have only to ask. I want to be seen as almost a second pair of hands for you," Ferdinand replied upon sensing the pause that indicated the ending of a thought. "Do not fear to ask me. Be there anything you need, should it be in my power to assist you, I will help. I will help especially if others can be helped at the same time."

Ferdinand now adjusted his glasses once again. Darned things falling down his nose again. He made a mental reminder to give them a quick glance over, make certain they were still fitted together correctly.

At Jax's unbothered, dismissive words, Rachel flinched out of fear of what the math teacher's response would be, all the while giving her fellow student an, 'Are you crazy?!' look. This certainly wasn't new in terms of the boy's usual behavior, something the human girl didn't exactly approve of, but had learned to tolerate and accept grudgingly over time. What WAS new was that they now had a teacher who seemed hell-bent on maintaining absolute order in his classroom, something that was highly unlikely in a high school classroom setting, which made the situation even scarier.

Teenagers at school were... teenagers at school. While the majority were decently well-behaved, there were plenty of students who simply would not conform to the school's rules under any circumstances. They were the ones who would no doubt fight back against Mr. White's strict management, perhaps even more so out of spite, or as a counterattack against the man's uncompromising regulations. It was a battle where one party would eventually wear out the other, and to Rachel, the new math teacher didn't seem like the sort who would so easily back down. Just how long would this little "war" last? And what would the "casualties" be? If Mr. White stood unyielding against any sort of foolishness, and if certain students rebelled - and continued to rebel - simply because they did not take kindly to being so completely controlled by one of their teachers, who could say for certain just how frightening the math teacher's reign could be? Both sides - order and chaos - would clash more and more viciously to crush the opposition; Mr. White would become even scarier than before, and certain students would become even more disruptive than usual.

To Rachel, being late for class today seemed much less like a frightening encounter and more like a mere fraction of what was to come.

The girl's near frantic theorizing was interrupted by the math teacher himself who, unbeknownst to Rachel (for she was so lost in her panicked thoughts), had been standing in silence for a few moments, allowed his narrowed eyes to convey what words need not. The intimidation tactic was more directed at the other students than Jax himself, who was probably too asleep to even notice that the man was even looking at him. In this case, it was mostly Elim's way of shutting the other students up before they could utter a sound. His gaze was like that of a snake prepared to strike its target, surely any sane individual would not want that gaze turned on themselves by drawing any attention to themselves?

It seemed to work, for the room was eerily silent, aside from the awkward cough from some kid in the back. Closing the distance between himself and the sleepy student with a few unhurried, purposeful steps, Mr. White regarded the poor excuse of a lifeform critically, his form seemingly casting a dreadful shadow over the blissfully unaware Jax.

"I am neither required nor inclined to give you anything, Mr. Palmer," he stated simply. His tone and choice of words became more dangerous, however, as he went on, "Don't think yourself as being of enough consequence to decide how things work here. You are my student - one of many who have been placed under my authority. I am your teacher. As such, it is my obligation to educate you in the field of mathematics - and no more. I am not required to be nice about it, and I am most certainly not required to be fair about it. You, as my student, are not warranted any sort equity from me. It is your place to submit to my regulations and the regulations of this school, and you will do so, with or without your consent." Tilting his head a fraction of an inch, he asked icily, "Are we clear?"


"The same goes for me," the doctor replied easily, without any sort of hesitation or doubt. "If I might somehow be of some assistance to you, then I am at your service. You have only but to ask." Plagarius had a feeling that theirs would be a good, mutual relationship, in both a professional and personal sense. Their fields of expertise complemented one another, and their strong desire to help people was something that would no doubt strengthen the bond they were slowly beginning to form. The Corvonian hardly needed any sort of similarity between himself and another in order to comfortably interact with and grow closer to them, but he knew that it often wasn't the same way with others. Most people needed some sort of shared experience or interest, as well as a certain degree of time, to really open themselves up to someone. The bird-like alien needed neither of these things, for he was friendly and open with everyone regardless of how well he knew them, but he knew that Ferdinand most likely did. So it was a relief that they both held altruistic beliefs and intentions, for this would no doubt help them form a friendship - a relationship that could very well have remained one-sided, as Plagarius had been forced to accept the possibility of.

So the fact that they shared certain similarities was a huge step forward for him. Now only time would tell if they would develop a close friendship, and while the Corvonian was eager for this to happen, he has also learned the value of patience. He didn't want to make the psychologist wary of him by acting too intimately toward him, something the Corvonian has done countless times in the past with new acquaintances, and something that he has slowly come to realize he cannot allow himself to do. So while he normally would have said something more, or perhaps made some other gesture similar to the pat on the shoulder, Plagarius - or, Corbin, rather - refrained from doing so. He did, however, allow himself to chuckle softly at the way Ferdinand's glasses seemed intent on moving out of position.

"Do they do that often?" he asked, a touch of amusement in his voice.

Syndral breathed a slight sigh of relief when the teacher said nothing about their absence, and didn't even seem to notice them sneak in. Regardless of whether or not they were actually late, at least they weren't in trouble. She tried to convince herself that she didn't care about being a model student here, but it was just a force of habit to always try to do her best work. It was in her nature.

At her name being called for roll, she responded with a simple "present" in her usual monotone. She immediately closed her eyes at the realization that her own formality had escaped again. Everyone else seemed to be saying "here" she noticed, and so it must seem weird that one student was being more formal. Maybe Syndral was just overthinking things, but she was worried that her formality was a red flag that there was something different about her. It just kept coming up, and it was obvious, at least to her, that she didn't belong here. Although she didn't how to fix that. She didn't know how to blend in.

The Zvarranik was distracted by her thoughts when she sensed someone had moved closer to her. She sighed, before deciding to check, hoping it wasn't anyone annoying. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that it was her comrade. Oh, good, it's only Morph. With that settled, she simply looked forward again.

A thought occurred to her. Morph didn't appear to have any trouble blending in here. He seemed to handle himself just fine. Surely he could be of some assistance. She needed to learn how to adapt if she wanted to do her job properly. So with that, Syndral turned in her seat to better face Morph. "Was I too formal earlier?" She asked quietly. Maybe he could, at the very least, give a critique of her interaction with Rachel earlier.



Dax was too busy sleeping to notice any change in atmosphere, or that the math teacher had walked towards him. Although if he had noticed, he likely would have found the silence peaceful, since it would be easier to sleep now. Had he noticed Mr. Locklear, he likely would have thanked him for creating a shade from the bright school lights. As the teacher droned on about obligations, or rules, or something of that nature, Dax simply sat there with his head on the desk, completely unresponsive. At some point, he started snoring, and muttered something incoherent in his sleep, although one could catch the word "pizza" if they were paying close enough attention.

By the end of Mr. Locklear's lecture, Dax yawned and opened his eyes slightly. "Huh-wha?" He muttered, completely unaware as to what was going on. Noticing the teacher standing there, he figured he was being scolded again, but was too sleepy to really care or notice the teacher's demeanor. "Uh, sure, dude." He yawned. Honestly, he hadn't heard a single word of that speech, but had heard enough of them to get an idea as to what he probably said. "Just get on with the teaching thing, I'm all ears." With that, he lifted up his feet and set them down on top of his own desk, leaning back further, with his head still resting on Rachel's desk. He promptly started snoring again.

Mort tensed the slightest bit when Diane turned around, but relaxed again when she turned back. She only wanted to see who it was, no big deal. However, she then almost completely spun in her seat to face him, and with a sinking heart he was sure that she'd--
"Wh-- Oh, uh..." he made a "so-so" hand gesture, "A little bit, but not by too much." Inwardly, he was collapsing with relief.

Crykin could imagine his ears lowering, had he been in a body where that was possible. This human body failed to allow him such a physical reaction, although that might have been for the best. Had he been able to show such a physical action, the response might have been poor. As he listened to a conversation between Mr. White and a nearby student, he felt only more wary, further fear creeping up his spine. Would they all be like that? Would everyone he encountered be so hateful, monotone? A rigid feeling has started creeping up his spine, especially as he noted the student in question and how little he seemed to care. From the sound of it, Mr. White didn't appear the sort that should be crossed with such a casual, careless demeanor. He seemed like the sort who might do something about it. Something undesirable.

Almost as though he somehow expected the other student's actions to attach to him - although obviously that wasn't going to happen - Cryktin lowered his head a little closer to his desk. He was reminded of home for a moment, hiding, uncertain of one's surroundings, listening for sounds of motion and fearing they would come closer. He hoped his next class would have a friendlier sounding teacher.



Ardunayne hazarded an attempt to search the room once again as the teacher's attention shifted away from her. Once again she gazed at the same person, the little one. Someone was turned in his direction, female, whispering to him. Immediately, she was interested in what was being discussed. While gossip wasn't a topic she got too deeply into, she was always looking out for conversation starters, as well as interesting people to use them with. She only caught a short sentence. If more had been said, she regrettably hadn't been focused enough to notice it. A simple question; nothing of interest.

She wondered if anyone she knew was around. It seemed unlikely. She knew there would be other members of the Order in this school, but the Order was a large faction, filled with many people, and there were no guarantees she would meet anyone she was familiar with. Ardunayne sighed inwardly, wishing her papers had been better organized. Regrettably, the list of names had gotten mixed up for her, misplaced perhaps, so exactly who was here and where were unknown factors to her. It was bothersome, but she worried little about getting a new list. Besides, if there was anyone she knew here, she'd pick them out quickly.

He didn't seem familiar, though, the one she was watching. The personality didn't match anything she was used to. A small smile lit up on her face nonetheless, as she watched subtly, hoping the two would say something more interesting.



Mutual agreement. Trust. Common interests. These were important factors to obtaining a positive relation of any level with a person. With the nurse, all of these seemed to be settling in. The signs that a long relation could exist in the future were clear, and it was a comforting feeling to Ferdinand. He liked the idea of having a friend with whom he could relate, someone he could host a conversation with that would be less of a patient and more of a friend. Inwardly, it sounded funny, almost enough to warrant a laugh. Here he was, a psychologist, fretting over friendship. For a moment, his mind appealed more as one of the children than an adult, rambling on about friends, obtained and keeping them. Yet, how much did he differ from the students? He had once been in their shoes, and they wouldn't be children forever. They might not give therapeutic assistance to others, but they had jobs and futures ahead of them nonetheless. Thinking like a kid was good. Keep the mind young, child-like, carefree.

At Corbin's query, however, Ferdinand was caught a little off-guard. He didn't show it physically, but his mind tripped up. For a moment, the gears inside his head stopped rotating, distracted and unaware of what he was speaking on. After mere moments, it occurred to him. His glasses. The nurse had taken notice of his glasses sliding down his nose. Observant. Few took notice of such simple details. It was likely he had been distracted by it simply because he hadn't expected anyone to take notice of it, and certainly not to follow it up with a direct comment.

Ferdinand chuckled, a sound that held more meaning to one who had seen the prior thoughts whizzing through his mind. "It happens from time to time," admitted Ferdinand idly. "They're no more than reading glasses anyways. It might be soon to schedule a trip to the optician, get them refitted."

At Jax's less than appropriate response, Rachel covered her face with her hands, almost as if she didn't want to see what would happen next. Part of her wanted to saying something to Jax, to smack some sense into his sleepy head, to apologize for his behavior - something. She couldn't muster the courage to speak up, however, for as much as she didn't want Jax to get in any more trouble than he already was, she also didn't want to have those critical eyes of the math teacher staring at her again, which would no doubt happen if she even made the slightest bit of sound.

Mr. White, on the other hand, didn't seem to react at all. If he was at all annoyed by the boy's muddled words, he didn't show it. Inside his head, however, Elim's mind was assessing the situation and taking mental notes. It seemed that this human test subject in particular wasn't the sort who was intimidated by words alone. Not yet, at the very least. Having established that, he raised his forearm and produced a ruler that he had made a point of keeping up his sleeve. Holding the long object by one end as one might hold a weapon, he used it to unceremoniously nudge Jax's legs off the desk, almost as if he was using the ruler so he wouldn't have to actually "contaminate" himself by touching the human. He then promptly set a foot on the rung of the boy's chair, shifting enough of his weight on that foot to bring the chair back properly on all fours, which, considering the ways the human body can't bend, abruptly snapped Jax - no doubt uncomfortably, perhaps even a bit painfully - into more of a regular sitting position.

With the boy's head off of Rachel's desk, and with his attention hopefully grabbed by now, Mr. White told him disparagingly, "I need not your permission to continue with my class, nor do I need your cooperation. If I were any other inadequate teacher, I would simply let you lie drooling on your desk all year, and then simply pass you at the end of the year in order to be rid of your presence; no doubt the very reason you could have possibly gotten this far." Inspecting his ruler casually as if he was considering the best way he could possibly beat a student with it, he returned his eyes to Jax, and continued, "I, however, am not so incompetent. I will see to it that I perform my duties here, even if that means I have to break" - here he snapped the ruler in half - "each and every one of you and put you back together piece by piece until you are finally formed into something at the very least... mediocre."

Dropping the two splintered fragments of the ruler and letting them fall to the floor with a loud clatter in the otherwise quiet room, Mr. White walked back to his desk, eying a stack of papers that was sitting atop its surface as he said to all of them, "I had been planning on simply using today to review the results of the pretest you took yesterday. However, due to your classmate's insolent behavior, it has become clear to me that such leniency is not deserved. I will be assigning you another pretest of fifty-four questions to be completed today."

The students, as they had yesterday, groaned in protest, only this time it was much more shock- and anger-fueled, and unlike yesterday, the math teacher did nothing to silence their commotion. Let them vent their anger, for such emotions might be directed at him for the moment, but they would soon come to blame their classmate for their woes, and pin their frustration and rage on him. Using fear to control people was... a delicate situation. That fear could so easily turn into anger, and that anger could fuel rebellious thoughts and actions. Elim could not afford for any of the students to overcome their fear of him, and so he directed their inevitable rage elsewhere - an expendable target. This would make for a very interesting experiment, the Targibbon decided.


At Ferdinand's answer, Plagarius tilted his head inquisitively at the glasses, saying, "I may have some experience dealing with the eye, but I'm afraid I am certainly not an optometrist. If anything, I'd be referring someone to one." And what he said was true, in both Corbin's and Plagarius's cases. As a school nurse, he really wasn't supposed to be so heavily specialized in just one certain area, and as an alien doctor, while he knew how to identify troubles in vision and such, he had very little actual knowledge of human glasses, much less how to fix them so they'd fit the psychologist's head more appropriately.

Flicking his curious gaze from the glasses to Ferdinand himself, Corbin surmised, "Hyperopia, I would assume?"

The Corvonian was genuinely curious as to why the man needed glasses. He had referred to them as reading glasses, so the doctor assumed that they were meant to be used when studying something up close and detailed, but he couldn't be one hundred percent certain until he inquired, or did an actual examination, of course. While Plagarius was a doctor, he wasn't a human doctor, so he was still learning their unique terminology of medical conditions, as well as cures or treatments for such conditions. It was something he had studied intently, for a school nurse should know such things, but it was safe to say that he was more learned as an alien doctor than as a human one, even though he's absorbed the material quite well.

Now if only he could do the same with household appliances.


((OOC: Elim, tone down your psychological warfare a bit! D: And Plagarius! Learn what a microwave is! ))

At Morph's reply, Syndral averted her gaze and crossed her arms as she groaned irritably. "That is hardly passable. I knew I was doing poorly. I will have to improve somehow." As she pondered how she would do that, she moved a hand to her chin. She figured she could always observe and analyze human behavior, and attempt to mimic it. However, that seemed easier said than done.

The Zvarranik couldn't begin to understand every aspect of human culture in just a short amount of time, and even if she did, properly blending in would still be difficult. Her acting skills were poor, and she would be uncomfortable pretending to be something she's not. It just all sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Syndral sighed, closed her eyes, and relaxed her arms. "How do I do this without failing horribly?"



Dax didn't seem to react at all when his legs were pushed off the desk. Instead, he simply let them drop to the floor as he continued snoozing. However, when his chair was brought back down and he was snapped forward, he appeared to finally be awake. "Ow, geez! I'm up, I'm up already!" He exclaimed in surprise, one of the rare times he actually raised his voice at all. He shook his head afterwards to get a clearer idea of what was going on around him. Being scolded and punished he was pretty much used to, but no teacher had ever been so rude before.

Once he got his bearings, his eyes set on the math teacher, getting a good look at him for the first time. Dax blinked. "Hey, you're new." Well, that explained the sudden rudeness before. Mr. Serious here was a new teacher. The boy began scratching his head. "When did we get a new teacher?" Dax was known for having certain traits, but a good memory was not one of them. Although it was anyone's guess whether or not he truly was forgetful, or if he just never paid attention in the first place. Considering how oblivious he seemed to be at times, he probably just didn't pay attention.

While finally realizing that Mr. Locklear was a new teacher, the boy didn't seem to catch any of his speech. Instead, he appeared to be looking past Mr. Locklear with a dazed look, as if trying to figure out where this teacher came from and when he actually started working there. Dax continued to stare off into space, until the ruler was snapped in half. The boy blinked and focused his attention back on the teacher. He noticed the broken ruler in his hands before the teacher's words ever found his ears. "Well, that seems like a waste." He muttered. "Don't those come out of your own paycheck?" He questioned quietly, pointing to the broken ruler.

Dax watched as the splintered fragments fall to the floor. Okay, I'm pretty sure that's littering. Someone should pick those up. He waited until Mr. Locklear was back at his desk, before reaching over to pick up the fragments. He stuffed the pieces in his jacket pocket for the time being, with the intention of throwing them away when he had the chance. Once that was done, Dax yawned as he placed his arms on his desk. He leaned forward and laid his head down. At the mention of a pretest, he rolled his eyes with a sigh. Of course, what else would be the assignment? While he didn't like it, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

Seeing his comrade so disgruntled, Mort let out an exasperated sigh. He should have known that the perfectionist of an agent would have been disheartened by even the vaguest of critique. Although she had asked for correction, he knew her to take it too much to heart. There wasn't much else he could of done; he was telling the truth.

"I'm not sugarcoating anything, Diane, it's really not that bad. I've heard a few people say 'present' and barely anyone ever gives it a second thought. The worst that could happen is them thinking you're just pretentious or something."

After he finished his elaboration, the gaze of another student caught his attention. He struggled to collect details from just the corner of his eye, but it would have been futile. The human was already watching him, so he might as well meet her gaze. And that he did. After properly observing this tall, female student, a few things stood out to him. The angular face, her small, curious smile, the hair in a bun... it was eerily familiar. Where had he seen those particular features before? He racked his brain for a list of past agents he had worked with... bold... observant... endearingly agitating... could it be? At this point, he was almost certain. After all, he had been correct in recognizing Syndral. But he needed a signal from this person that showed that she remembered, too. Otherwise, she could have been just somebody who happened to have similar characteristics to someone he knew before.

Morph decided to make the first move, but thought about the body language he had shared with this possible friend. After a few moments of thought, he folded his arms and sported a bored, mildly perturbed expression. At best, his assessment of her would be correct and she'd recognize him. At worst, she'd be just a regular human and think he was annoyed at her. Although, the worst option didn't really bother him, to be honest.


OOC: Elim needs to realize that he's talking to a brick wall. And blast it down with dynamite.
It's called a microwave oven, you fiend! Trying to confuse the poor birdie!

Cryktin reacted this time. The snap of the ruler struck fear into his heart and he failed to fully hide this reaction. A small yelp, difficult to hear, but not completely silent, escaped his mouth and he jumped slightly. His mind raced, fear chasing him in circles within the very confines of his mind. Initially, his mind thought to seek solace, hide from a threat. There was no threat, hopefully. Weren't humans supposed to be friendly? He had heard time and time again that humans were a good species, someone that he could seek as an ally, someone that might one day serve him well. This one didn't seem it. His initial thought was to hide from Mr. White. He was afraid Mr. White had heard his small yelp, the short moment of terror struck inside him as a loud noise graced his ear. He had snapped something wooden in half, but what he had snapped or for what reason was unknown. He didn't wish to find out, hoped it was something innocent.

He lowered himself once again, shrouding his existence, embarrassed of his previous reaction. He was safe here. He tried to think of something else. Tests? Yeah, tests. Just what he needed. Admittedly, he hadn't been present for the first day of school, so a review would have been completely pointless for him, given he had no performance to review, but he certainly hadn't wanted to take a large test on his first class of his first day. It wasn't that the test would be overly challenging for him, - he was an intelligent enough man on his own and he figured math couldn't be all that different between humans and aliens - but that it was tense. He hadn't expected to have to use his brain this much on the first day, and he inwardly wished the student had kept his mouth shut.



Ardunayne was being watched back now. She figured it was only a matter of time before her wandering eyes caught someone's attention, and she figured it would likely be one of the two she had been staring towards. He stared directly at her, a gaze she held strongly. He was reading her, observing her. In some way, she was interesting, caught his eye. She waited patiently to see if he would make any action, relished the chance to observe what he may do given the fact that he noted his observer. Several seconds passed with no real change, then he shifted.

It was an incredibly subtle change, and not the kind of reaction she had expected any sort of human to give her, especially not to being stared at. He simply crossed his arms and showed a small expression change. This caught her eye. From a person she previously thought held no merit to her, a new light started flickering in her head. Could he be a fellow agent? It seemed incredibly likely now. Given when she knew of humans, she strongly doubted anyone would have delivered such a reaction unless it was meant to be read, interpreted, and responded to.

There was a strong chance it was him, though if it was, he had changed in more than a few ways since their last meeting. If that was the case, she cherished speaking with him again, seeing how exactly he had changed. Make no assumptions yet, she thought inwardly. Ardunayne delivered an appropriate response to indicate her personality. If it was him, he would notice this. Upon his huffy reaction, her smile widened, her gaze stayed locked firmly, and she delivered him a small wave.

Is it you, Morph?



Ferdinand worried little. "I've been going to the same place for years, so you needn't worry about having a good reference on hand." He should have expected an observant response, though, should have expected to hear the medical term for his condition. He had gotten so used to referring to his vision troubles under every day terms - for the people who would turn their heads at the medical ones - that sometimes he forgot there were people who did know and use these words. "But, yes, that is what I have. I choose to wear the glasses throughout most of the day. You never know when you'll need to read something closely, and I'm effective at misplacing these sort of things."

Most people wouldn't admit that sort of thing, that they were disorganized and prone to misplacing objects. Ferdinand figured there were far greater concerns in the world than losing a pair of glasses, and the nurse didn't seem like the sort of person who would spend too much time noting it. In fact, Ferdinand wasn't expecting much of a reaction at all, didn't think him the sort who would go into grand detail to call out someone's flaws. He certainly hadn't called any out yet. He had noted the vision, but not before vision had become a relevant subject. Until then, Corbin had entirely centered his conversation around positive traits, and this wasn't a negative conversation either. It was a casual observant on a person's physical traits.

"I've been wearing glasses for as long as I can remember. Twenty seven years now, to be specific." At this point he shook his head and chuckled. "I went through all the particulars of being teased for it, so it gives me another way to relate to some of the children."

((OOC: Poor little Cryktin. Elim gave him quite a fright. He isn't even the wiser to the fact that Elim isn't human.
And yes, I was acknowledging the personality changes Morph has gone through.))

Telai, carrying a black and white cane, slowly navigates himself, along the wall, using his cane to locate and avoid any obstacles.