darkSpyro

((OOC: Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know: My allergies have been kicking my butt lately, to the point where it's hard for me to concentrate enough to make my usual lengthy roleplay responses. I don't want to make half-hearted posts while I'm not feeling well, but I don't want to hold up the roleplay for an unknown amount of time, either.

((So I'm going to ask that you guys to continue roleplaying in scenarios where I'm not involved (like with Syndral, Morph, and Ardunayne in English class). I don't think I'm going to be absent for an overly extended period of time, but I hate feeling guilty for putting this roleplay at a standstill every time I leave for whatever reason.

((Like I said, I really shouldn't be gone long, but I don't want to keep you guys waiting while I'm not feeling well. :3))

Syndral sighed. Great, I will be disliked for being pretentious here, too. "I am not trying to seem more important, and I rather people not assume so. Although they are likely to think that and possibly worse, if I do not remove the formalities from my speech. How am I supposed to converse with these individuals and form any lasting relationships if none will be willing to talk to me due to how different I am? You witnessed the awkwardness with Rachel. She is likely the only one that will still talk to me after such a poor display of social skills."

At this point, the Zvarranik had noticed that Morph was distracted by something else, or rather, someone else. Not only was he distracted, but he appeared to be upset with them. Syndral blinked, wondering what the reason could be. Did he know them? Did they give him a nasty look or something? Curious, she decided to follow his gaze to find this student and hopefully answer some questions. She spotted a tall, female student, and blinked again. This female wasn't giving them any nasty looks, although she was clearly watching them, perhaps even eavesdropping. Although that wasn't what caught Syndral's attention about her. This female student had an air of familiarity about her. Seeing the student's reaction to Morph's change in mood, Syndral blinked yet again. Smiling and waving was an odd reaction for any human to give to someone who was apparently annoyed with them. Now the Zvarranik was really considering the possibility of this student being a fellow agent.


ooc: That's okay, I understand, Wylrin. I wouldn't want you making half-hearted posts. Your lengthy ones are worth the wait. You just focus on feeling better, and hopefully it won't take too long for you to feel well enough to post again. :3

((OOC: I had a sneaking suspicion about the allergies keeping you away after listening to you trudge through our phone conversation. I'm fine with waiting for you to feel better, especially given the interaction I am most excited about involving you *coughelimandardunaynecough* hasn't come to fruition yet))

At the student's response, Mort smirked. He only knew of one person who was so unrelenting in their affability, even towards him, and it had to be her. Once he was confident in his discovery, he flicked his gaze between her and Diane in an attempt to communicate affiliation. They wouldn't be able to really brief each other until after class ended or the teacher allowed them to talk, and even then they would still have to mask certain topics with school-related terminology and subjects. Morph stared to mentally plan what he would say to her when he had the chance.

It wouldn't be too difficult to talk with Ardunayne, though, as a good chunk of their communication wasn't verbal in the first place. Originally, Morph had starting playing a kind of game with the fellow agent some time after their first meeting. His initial impression of her was not one of fondness. However, after seeing her person in-depth, he warmed up to her exuberant nature. Of course, he didn't want her to know that, so he'd hide under a façade of coldness and annoyance. Needless to say, it crumbled down very quickly. After fully opening up, he would pretend to be bored and irritated by her existence, and see how long he could keep up the act. This game, in a way, helped him understand and recognize more or her body language.

"It's an adjustment, but you'll get it in time. It's only the second day." Mort had heard pieces of Diane's earlier concern, but only responded just now. He still kept eye contact with the "student", waiting for another possible gesture from her.


OOC: Aw, I'm sorry you're feeling yucky, Wylrin. Just rest and don't stress your brain with polished posts.
Yeah, even though Morph and Ardy met some time after his big change, he's still made some adjustments. Plus, he just acts differently around the other agents he's currently working with. For varying reasons.

Ardunayne waited, patiently, to see if there would be another further reaction. He hadn't been put off by her response, which certainly was curious, and gave her a strong notion that this very likely could be Morph. It seemed unlikely that an every day human would be so casual with her wave, passive in their acknowledgement in it when annoyance had been the previously displayed emotion. If not him, then very likely a fellow agent. She simply had to approach him after class, speak with him. Regardless of who he was, this was a given.

As soon as he attempted to subtly cue her in another direction, she took note of it. Response. Even better to prove she was currently in communication with one of her fellow agents. She noted his attempts to indicate her towards a specific area, or rather a specific someone. It was the female he had previously been conversing with, who he tossed a response to in a quick attempt to continue what he temporarily been broken.

At this point, Ardunayne locked her attention to the female instead. Yet another agent? In the same room. It was a viable chance. This school wasn't that obnoxiously large from what she had seen, which gave a possibility that multiple agents had been placed together. If that was the case, this was exciting. She held her gaze strongly on the female now, pondering quietly within her head who this might be, or if it were someone she had never met before. Both were possible. If anything, it was clear she was close with him, though it was realistically possible this could be a new relationship, not an old one reborn. Ardunayne certainly had noticed the momentary curious glance in her direction. Her smile grew, and she nodded her head ever so slightly to indicate to the female she had her attention.

Syndral folded her arms and firmly held her gaze on Morph for a moment. The time it took for him to reply, as well as his short response and lack of eye contact, were clear signs that he wasn't focused on their conversation at the moment. She turned in her seat, facing the front of the room again. If he was too distracted to talk right now, then there was hardly any point in trying to continue the conversation. While she understood the reason for this, and recognized it as a viable reason, she still didn't like being almost completely ignored.

Despite a Zvarranik's natural aversion to social interactions, they do have certain quirks involving them, with one of them being that they tended to want their partner's undivided attention. Since it is rare for them to actually want to interact with someone, when they do finally start a conversation and make an effort to be open and friendly, they find it rather insulting when the recipient is unresponsive. Since the Zvarranik set aside time in their busy schedule to actually talk to you, they likely had something to discuss, or are simply comfortable with investing their time and effort into establishing a long-lasting relationship. Not showing them an equal level of interest makes them think that you don't care, and then they feel like they've wasted their time.

While Syndral knew better than this, and knew there was a good reason for it, she still wasn't all that happy about it. She had started a conversation for a reason, and now pretty much nothing had been accomplished in that exchange, all because he was distracted by the possibility of another agent being in the room. Although, to be fair, she knew that the introduction of another agent would be equally important as her topic of conversation, if not more so. Though perhaps this other agent could be beneficial in helping her blend in with these humans.

Turning her head to view the student once more, she met the other female's gaze. Syndral's expression remained unchanged as she studied her. She had an idea of who it might be, although she wasn't entirely certain. It had been a long time since she had last seen her, and at least some things had changed since then. The Zvarranik wasn't exactly the same person as she was then, and she wondered if she would even be recognizable now, if this agent was indeed who she thought it was.

Syndral wanted to send her a signal, much like Morph had, to confirm her suspicions, but she wasn't sure of what to do. She hadn't exactly been very responsive to this agent in the past. Most of their interactions mainly involved her listening to her fellow agent's unnecessary commentary. Syndral didn't really think she had a cue to give her, so in response to the student's smile and nod, she simply gave a nod in return.

Mort watched Diane have her short interaction with the newly discovered agent, but was unaware of her inward dilemma. While the agents were having their silent conversation, Mr. Normandy had gotten up finally and was addressing the class.

"I'm guessing you children had a good night's sleep last night?" he inquired tiredly. The kids either groggily mumbled or blankly stared off into space. Mort simply scoffed.

"Good. We'll go over the course outline today since we didn't get to that yesterday, so make sure you get those out." The day before Mr. Normandy had trailed off into some childhood story for-- what Mort assumed to be-- an attempt at identifying with the students. Ironically, almost no one remembered what we was even talking about. "And you might as well get out your E.T. copies, because we'll be starting those today."

Mort refrained from making any verbal complaints, but he didn't bar himself from the occasional eye-roll. The premise of the novel sounded ridiculous, from how the teacher had described it. Even maybe a tad suspicious. The idea presented in the book didn't sound too unlike the Brotherhood's agenda. He briefly considered the correlation, but didn't count on anything. It was only a thought.

Regardless, he took out his supplies for the class. At least this guy was laid back and didn't seem to care if the students goofed off a bit. Maybe he could get a word in with Ardunayne.

Ardunayne noted the nod in her direction. Whether she was a fellow agent or not, there was no denying the two had acknowledged one another, and she just as much as the other, was worth a approaching later. She had been mere moments from tossing another nonverbal signal to her when the teacher began speaking, and as little as Ardunayne cared to really listen to the incessantly dull class, she knew it was required of her, knew that as long as she held this human masquerade, she would be expected to listen.

Didn't mean she would enjoy it.

E.T. Ardunayne had never heard of it. She considered what the abbreviation could stand for in her head for a fleeting moment, though most of the ideas she conjured up were less than appropriate. Would reading a book written by humans by anything like reading a book of her own, or even another alien species? It took her an elongated time of inwardly mocking the book before she actually focused, and then realized given her missing the first day, she didn't actually posses a copy of this book, whatever it may be.

Her raising of the hand was less of a respected classroom gesture and more of a method of drawing attention to herself, as she hardly waited for the teacher to notice her before speaking. "Do pardon me," she hummed almost as if having to bring this to the teacher's attention were a game on its own. "That book? Yeah, I don't have one. Unfortunately, I wasn't here first day."

((OOC: I'm just working with the logic of books that were handed out on the day the assignment began, mostly so Ardunayne can get even a short chance to verbally communicate with someone))

Syndral turned her attention to the teacher when he addressed the class. She blinked when he inquired about their quality of sleep the previous night, wondering what that had to do with anything. He was a teacher, his job was to simply teach them, not make casual conversation. At least he moved on to more important matters quickly enough.

As he mentioned what they would be doing, Syndral pulled the outline out of her binder, and grabbed her copy of the novel. She sighed as she looked over her supplies for class; binders, paper, books, all primitive materials. Why couldn't humans just make things simple and use a computer for everything? It was much more convenient to carry around one machine that could handle everything, than a bunch of tedious primitive things. They clearly had the technological capabilities to handle such an improvement in their educational system, and why they hadn't made that change yet was beyond her.

Still, the similarities between the novel and the mission the Brotherhood had did not go unnoticed by the Zvarranik. It seemed like a mere coincidence that they had any correlation, but it was still something to keep in mind. Mr. Normandy himself didn't really seem like he could be an agent, at least not as of yet, but the possibility was still there in her mind. Syndral knew that Brotherhood agents likely had to be here somewhere, even if he wasn't one of them.

Her attention was brought back to the other student as she spoke up, due to not possessing the required novel for class. It was true that this female student hadn't been here the previous day. If she were really an agent, it seemed like she should have been here already. Syndral wondered why she was essentially late. Maybe she simply wasn't all that punctual. Perhaps she had been given misinformation. Maybe she had a prior engagement, or other responsibility that had to be tended to before starting the mission.

However, perhaps she really wasn't late for the mission itself. Maybe she had simply been taking care of other matters, other plans that involved being outside of school. Maybe she was just still getting settled in. Syndral supposed that it didn't matter at the moment. Now wasn't really the time to be focused on that anyway. Still, she rather converse with this female than focus on class at the moment.

At the student's inquiry, Mort gave an airy sigh, one that almost sounded like a hiss, and shook his head. That voice, that tone of voice, that... insistence on being acknowledged and attended to... Now he was certain. He knew that, according to protocol, he should always err on the side of caution when interacting with a possible ally, no matter how much they looked like one. However, he knew her too well for that. Despite his body language, he was clearly more amused than annoyed judging by the smile on his face.

Mr. Normandy didn't notice Anahita's raised hand until she spoke. Despite talking without being properly addressed, he was clearly unfazed. "Oh, yes," he said as he moved to the shelf closest to his desk. "We knew we'd have some students come in later this week, so we have plenty of spares." He took another copy of the novel in question and brought it to her, before returning to the front of the class. "Oh, is there anyone else who doesn't have a book yet? No? Alright, then, let's begin..."

Mort had already read the outline for all of his classes, all of which were straight-forward and to the point. Especially this English teacher's, who was as simple as they come, so there was really no need to go over it. Despite this, he was thankful. Doing classwork wasn't really fun in the first place, and this was basically just a stall from having to do so. He just hoped that Mr. Normandy would be as uninterested and placid as he was the day before and let them chat later in the class. He'd probably give them time to read or something.

Ardunayne tossed one last glance in the general direction of the female and her companion before turning her focus elsewhere. This class, this book. With the book directly in front of her, she was able to get a better look at it, glancing over the cover with only a small interest in her eyes. Her mind wasn't really focused on the book. It looked rather dull, at least from a short glance. She was far more interested in the other people, whether they were fellow agents or just humans with a speck of personality to them. The teacher certainly lacked an outgoing one. In fact, she found him boring. He could be alien, but it seemed unlikely. He seemed too settled in with the mundane human existence. Ardunayne didn't think she'd ever fully adjust; didn't want to either.

She turned the book over, stared at the back cover for a while. Where was the summary of this wretched thing? She hazarded a second guess and checked the inner cover, finding what she was looking for. Ardunayne read the summary, though as she continued to piece through each and every word, with each passing second, she wished she had just left it a mystery. Suddenly the vulgar concepts in her head sounded like a better book idea.

Where to start with this book? For one, it was a little insulting. That thing on the cover, that little shriveled thing. Was it supposed to be an alien? Was this what humans thought aliens looked like? She smirked inwardly at the thought, considering hypothetical encounters. If her identity was ever revealed to the humans, and this is what they thought an alien looked like, then she wondered what they would think she was. She could picture the terror in their eyes, the fear of the unknown, the desperate attempts to identify the creature in front of them. It might never happen, but it was a fun concept to consider nonetheless. The other problem with the book was the subject matter itself. It sounded almost too sappy, too sweet. Ardunayne might have been into heartwarming moments in stories, but this was a different world with different creatures writing the books. This was a species attempting to describe something they didn't even seem clear on the existence of. The Brotherhood couldn't have already gotten to the humans. If they had, someone in the Order would've known by now. She couldn't deny it sounded like them, though.

Telai has just arrived from another country and is a blind exchange student. He is navigating through the halls toward his first class, when he is tripped and falls to the ground. He hears laughter but is unable to tell where or who is laughing. The worst sound he hears is his black and white cane is snapped in half and thrown on the ground, with footsteps receding as the one who leave him like this, walk off, laughing. After some difficulty and gathering the fragments of his broken cane, Telai makes it to the first classroom that he is visiting, Mr. White, or Elim's. He has no schedule like the other students as he is just visiting for a time. Instead he listens and writes down a report on how each class works here and what they do in them. He is here as a guest of the school, but he still participates in the learning, doing the same assignments as the other students, but in Braille. The teacher should be receiving the Braille copies soon. Still if he had Braille copies of the assignments he would love to help the others with their work anytime, that is just who he is.

Meanwhile, I happily watch my current class, play badminton, working together as a team to keep the other team from scoring and getting their own scores as well. This is what I love, watching and even playing with the younger generation. Sadly there was no more of my younger generation left after The Great Purge, b the Galactic Order. Our cities were still standing but only shadows of their former glory, the inhabitants of our home planets, died fighting or were massacred by invading armies of The Galactic Order, women and children were not spared this fate. No graves could be built for all that perished as the invaders burned their bodies to ash, which was are gathered and buried in a great mound, by The Brotherhood of Worlds, after they saw for themselves the atrocity made by The Galactic Order. Still spending time with the other alien races younger generations as well as these human younger generations helped me to fill that void that was lost to me for my race forever.

OOC: Wyrstel, I'm sorry, but that kind of drama is really unnecessary right now. He should be in class right now (speaking of which, you need to post a schedule for him), and the bullying is far too extreme. We've already had someone basically get physically assaulted before this day, and we're trying to get through at least one day without a major ruckus (yes, there's going to be weird stuff anyway because there's aliens, but that's besides the point).
Also, this kind of event demands that everyone stop what they're doing to attend to the issue. It's distracting all other characters to pay attention to yours, and that's not very fair. There needs to be equal attention given to everyone. Your characters will get a time to be in the spotlight, as will everyone else's, but it'll have to occur naturally. You can draw attention to your character without making a big scene, or in a way that doesn't involve a lot of drama.
I hate that I keep getting on your case about things, but there needs to be a good balance.

Syndral sighed as she glanced over the course outline and the cover of the novel. School was going to be so boring, not because she didn't like school, but because of how simple and primitive everything was. There was no challenge to be had here. There was nothing to catch her interest. Of course she knew she wasn't here to attend school, but she still wished there was something more to be gained from it. The curriculum was just so very disappointing.

Already wanting a more stimulating distraction, the Zvarranik pulled out her phone to find something more interesting to focus on. Since her phone was one she had designed and built herself, it's capabilities far surpassed that of any human technology. With it's ability to search the internet of various worlds, Syndral could easily find something to do that was at the very least more challenging than what a human could provide. She just needed something to keep her highly intelligent and active brain occupied. She soon found a list of puzzle games and began browsing through them. There were all different types, and she wondered what kind would be the most challenging.

OOC: I'm just going to pretend that the teacher handed out a class outline to Anahita as well as the book to save the trouble of addressing that later.


Mr. Normandy was mostly looking down at the copy of the outline in his hand as he sat behind the desk, more so than he was watching the students. He wasn't one to just allow the students to do whatever they liked, but he failed to notice that Diane was fiddling on her phone.

Mort yawned boredly and propped his hands under his head as the teacher went off on another tangent about his personal life, something about a fishing trip, or whatever. At this point he was tuning out the whole one-ended conversation to focus on Diane and what she was doing. He tilted his head to see around her, noting that she was on her phone. She was figuring out puzzles, apparently. Once that was settled, he glanced over at Ardunayne. He was figuring out how he could get her name. Probably have Diane ask, since she probably didn't know who the person behind the mask was. Or, that is, skin suit.

At least, he assumed that's what she was using as a disguise. Morph himself had actually had portions on a skin suit the whole time, but failed to assemble them the previous day. Although, his avoidance of the equipment was entirely purposeful and simply out of disgust. He hated how tight and constricting skin suits were, and how they stuck to every little crease on the body. And the horrific feeling of peeling it off was enough to make him shudder. He wasn't looking forward to that when evening came.

Despite his distaste, yesterday's mistakes and close calls gave him the push needed to actually complete that part of his duty. He was a little bit ashamed that he hadn't done so, but he knew not to dwell on it. The last thing he needed was to develop a sour mood that affects everyone else, like he had last night.

Ardunayne sighed, inwardly and outwardly, as Mr. Normandy launched into another spiel. This one was even more casual than the first, a story that was about as interesting as counting the number of tiles on the floor. There was little to do otherwise, given she was in no position to be speaking with anyone. In some fashion, that was eating her up inside, the silence she was being forced into my school. Naturally, she had known what she was getting herself into with this mission, but it was still challenging for her to ignore the boredom. Over time she'd adapt, but the first time of doing something impossible to enjoy was the worst.

She pushed the book aside, wasn't particularly interested in reading it. She would if she had to, but something told her she could just skim over important paragraphs and the general point would come across. These humans had internet, so she imagined she could just look it up on their internet, find a full summary posted by a person who had the patience to read it. Certainly not her.

She noted quietly she was being watched at this point, smile widening a little and her head shifting ever so slightly in his direction. Ardunayne wanted nothing more than to check if that was Morph, to approach him and see if she could find a subtle way to figure it out.

With no better choices at this moment for entertainment, she pushed a sheet of paper in front of herself and scribbled a little on it. She was simply sketching, nothing else coming to mind that wouldn't draw too much unwanted attention from the teacher. As much as she wished to garner attention to herself, she knew it wouldn't be appropriate during class, that she would definitely get in trouble. She really wasn't in the mood to be lectured by a human, finding it safe to assume a good portion of the staff here was that species. She had to wonder if any of her teachers would be alien. It would be challenging if they were. She knew students and teachers didn't usually hold close-knitted relations, but how could she resist approaching a fellow Order member if they were here? Some of them might not like it, though. A lot of the Order was difficult to get along with. She minded little. Ardunayne hummed quietly as she traced simple shapes on the paper, mostly hearts decorated that she decorated with unnecessary amounts of detail.

As Rachel watched the exchange between Jax and Mr. White, she was trying all the while not to cringe, but the strangest thing was - she wasn't even sure just who she was trying not to cringe at. It was obvious that she had been frightened by the math teacher's dialogue when it had been directed at her, and that she found the man's general demeanor to be rather intimidating. It was also obvious, given her own recent behavior, that the girl was rendered unsettled when the teacher's disapproval was not even aimed at her. Yet here Rachel sat, uncertain as to who was making her more uncomfortable right now.

Jax was... an interesting character, to say the least. Although they weren't quite friends, he and Rachel had definitely grown accustomed to each other over the years, establishing a relationship that, while not quite friendship, was more than a simple acknowledgement of each other's existence. That being said, there were definitely some things about the boy that drove the girl crazy. Like his complete disregard for school etiquette, for instance. Rachel herself wouldn't be caught dead so much as going to sharpen her pencil without permission, and here was Jax, laid back in his seat with his head on her desk like he owned the place. It was this difference in their personalities that probably kept their relationship from ever advancing into a friendship. Rachel couldn't stand how he could be so uncaring about his behavior - and not to mention his grades - at school, whereas Jax, in turn, probably couldn't stand how she could be so prissy and prim about her own comportment at school. Their acquaintanceship was riddled with times where one could simply not stand the other's behavior.

And now was one of those times.

As much as she was intimidated by Mr. White, she was also annoyed at Jax who, by twelfth grade, should know how to behave himself. There had been a time when Rachel had tried to talk some sense into him, to try and get him to have as much a sense of pride and motivation in his work as the girl herself did, but she had eventually backed down. It wasn't her place to try to decide how Jax should live his life, to try and change him. So she had grudgingly come to accept these things about the boy, but she still had her limits. At least try and pretend you're not asleep! she thought crossly at him. When they had first met each other, Rachel would no doubt have been trying to get him to sit up straight and do his work diligently like a good little student, but over time she's come to realize that simply wasn't a reasonable expectation to make of him. So she had abandoned that particular mission, but that didn't mean she wasn't still poking and prodding to get him to make some form of improvement.

She was about to get the boy's head off of her desk - or at least pester him until he got his head onto his own desk - when Mr. White did it for her. While she appreciated having the shaggy head off of her desk, she was a bit appalled by the man's tactics. That must've hurt his neck, the girl surmised to herself. She hadn't seen anything yet, though, for the math teacher's words were far more vicious than his physical demonstration. For a moment Rachel simply sat there in shocked silence. Part of her was mortified at what he was saying, while another was overwhelmed by indignation. How could he say such terrible things about all of them? Even Jax who, while he certainly didn't make the best first impression, didn't deserve to be verbally abused. He didn't even know any of them! He's only been here one day! How could he say such...?

Oh, Jax. Rachel brought a hand to her forehead, covering her eyes in an effective facepalm. What had provoked this reaction was the boy's apparent obliviousness to the situation, for he was asking irrelevant questions and making just as irrelevant comments. At this point, the girl wasn't sure who she was more upset with - Mr. White, for making herself and the rest of the class feel like crap, or Jax, whose inappropriate behavior was sure to get them all in trouble.

She called it! In typical teacher fashion, Mr. White announced that they would all suffer on the behalf of Jax's misbehavior. As the math teacher went about passing out yet another pretest amongst them, Rachel brought her other hand to her head, thus completing the double facepalm. While the girl got a sense of satisfaction out of completing her schoolwork, she didn't want more work than what was required or originally intended. That, and with every assignment came another scenario where she felt the need to push herself to do her best. Even though it was only a pretest that wouldn't be graded, her work ethic - and perhaps a significant amount of OCD - demanded that she put 110% into this assignment. That sort of demand that she made of herself only stressed and wore her out more quickly, and considering that this was only the first class out of a long day of school, Rachel was not at all happy about this second pretest.

Jax, can't you just behave for two whole minutes? she thought bitterly towards her classmate.

Corbin nodded thoughtfully in response to the psychologist's confirmation of his earlier inquiry. As an alien doctor with more advanced technology, part of him was just itching to more effectively treat the man's hyperopia. Human glasses worked nicely, he supposed, but wearing them constantly must be so inconvenient. Even more so, the doctor in him desired - needed - to use his available knowledge and skills to truly cure this man's eyes, instead of merely offering an object that could nullify the symptoms of his condition. This would be a difficult part of the mission indeed, Plagarius knew, for there were countless diseases and conditions that humans simply had no cure for, and if they did, it was more of a temporary solution, like Ferdinand's glasses. There were so many medical problems Earth had that he had the solution to, but he simply could not offer it. For the sake of keeping his alien identity a secret, and for the sake of preventing humans from prematurely making contact with others from beyond their planet when they're not truly ready, he simply could not. It was extremely difficult for him - perhaps even more so than it was for the Corvonian to keep from interacting with people as he normally would - to accept that he could do nothing while certain humans suffered, even if their suffering was minimal, like Ferdinand's. Still, it was far from easy, even now.

The Brotherhood agent was grateful for the distraction from his current thoughts when the other man mentioned his habit of misplacing things. At this, Corbin chuckled softly, and offered simply, "I understand, my good man." And this wasn't a lie. Plagarius's more doctorly side demanded that he keep track of every tiny medical tool that he possessed and insist that he remember every aspect of medical practice, while his more social side could easily pick out a snippet of a voice or a face out of a crowd. So he couldn't exactly relate to Ferdinand's troubles, being an individual who remembered and kept track of things very well, but he did understand it. Deciding it was alright to elaborate, he continued, "I had a friend once who had a habit of misplacing things. He would always say that he could very well lose his head if it wasn't attached." And this was most definitely true.

Before he could begin reminiscing about his old friend, Ferdinand spoke up again, only this time, the nurse didn't chuckle with him in response. Instead, he looked at the psychologist with a look that was mixed with confusion and worry. "You were teased for wearing glasses?" he asked, as if the concept was foreign to him - which it was, but Ferdinand need not know to what extent it was foreign to him. The subject the psychologist had brought up was a bit worrisome to the Corvonian - though it didn't take much for a Corvonian to become worried - and Plagarius hoped that Ferdinand's explanation would put him at ease some. He didn't like the thought of the man across from him being belittled in any way, and his concern shone clearly through Corbin's eyes.


((OOC: Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't exchange students participate in schoolwork just like a regular student?))

Syndral glanced up at the teacher briefly, just to make sure she wasn't missing anything important. Apparently, all she was missing was another pointless story about his personal life. Good, it was nothing she needed to hear, so she went back to looking at her phone. She had found an intriguing puzzle to solve. While it wasn't quite up to par with her intelligence level, it was still better than nothing. It was certainly more interesting than whatever the teacher was rambling about. The puzzle required the use of logic and a knowledge of physics to be able to solve it, which the Zvarranik found to be quite simple, but hopefully the difficulty would increase as she went through the levels.



Dax simply left his head laying on his desk, as if still planning on taking a nap during this class. Although he clearly couldn't take the pretest or do any other assignments, as he hadn't shown up with anything more than the clothes on his back. That was nothing new, though, as he hardly ever carried any school supplies, instead borrowing from those around him. He'd borrow anything he needed, and often forget to return it, only to ask for more supplies the next day. Also, since he had a habit of falling asleep and not paying attention, he'd ask for what homework assignments there were, and even ask to copy off of someone's paper if he thought he could get away with it. He quickly learned not to ask Rachel to go that far in helping him, but some students didn't care and would let him copy.

While he and Rachel had their differences in school etiquette, he did like her and enjoy her company, so long as she wasn't being too strict about schoolwork. Although Dax wasn't anywhere near as annoyed with her attitude than she was with his behavior. Maybe it was because the girl wasn't really an annoying person, or because he wasn't easy to annoy, or perhaps both. In truth, though, he really wasn't as bothered as he might have seemed at times. Mostly, he would pretend to be a little annoyed, or tease her about her prissy and prim attitude. In reality, he mainly just tried to get her to relax and not worry so much about school. Dax wanted her to loosen up and have some fun, enjoy life in her youth before she was really expected to be an adult. He honestly never intended to get on her nerves, as stressing her out was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do.

Unlike Rachel, he hadn't completely given up on his particular mission. Dax was never as determined or strict as she might have been with him, but that just wasn't how he was in general. Being so would likely go against his goal of trying to get her to relax, although he obviously hadn't fully realized that he could have the exact opposite effect. If he did, he never showed it. Instead, he'd just change the subject and try to cheer her up with jokes. He wasn't exactly trying to change her lifestyle, just help her be able to relax. Dax just figured that relaxing and not worrying about anything overall led to a more peaceful life than stressing over every little thing.

The little head tilt did not elude Mort's attention. Before he decided to roll his eyes again, he glanced down at whatever she was doodling on her paper. Hearts. What a surprise. Then he decided to roll his eyes, looking back in the general direction of the teacher, who was still rambling, only this time about a subject vaguely related to the previous one. Despite his outward attitude, Morph's opinions regarding Ardunayne were closer to that of endearment rather than distaste. Her antics were entertaining to him, and he relished in the missions they were assigned together in. It wasn't often he got to work with a more playful agent.

After what was around twenty minutes, but felt like it had to be forty, Mr. Normandy finally got around to discussing the outline. Once he finished, he tasked the class with reading, and busied himself with paperwork and emails. The students, of course, didn't necessarily do just that. The volume in the room increased from just the teacher's voice and bored yawns and sighs to actual, quiet conversations. Like yesterday, he didn't demand complete adherence to the task, and didn't bother telling the class to be quiet and stop playing with their phones.

Without skipping a beat, Mort attempted to get Diane's attention by whispering her name, and turned back to Ardunayne.

((OOC: I'm just going to find it safe to assume that Mr. White is already aware of Cryktin's need for braille writing and that a separate version was created for him, so I don't have to address an issue there would be no immediate solution to. Besides, it's safe to assume that this disability was mentioned to the school ahead of time - by Cryktin himself obviously - and that the higher-ups addressed this issue prematurely))

There was no reaction towards Cryktin's panic, and that brought forth much relief in him. It was unclear to him whether Mr. White simply failed to notice his reaction or if he chose not to comment on it, but regardless of the exact explanation, the lack of a reaction on Mr White's behalf was relaxing, a safeguard for his mind to immediately find internal comfort in. He didn't want to be afraid, wanted to be calm and collected for that moment when someone approached him, tried to speak with him. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone tried to make conversation with him, and it would be rude to avoid it at that point, though he had been making - and still was making - and blatant effort to avoid it until that moment occurred.

A rustle emanated quietly nearby, indicating he had just been given a pretest. For a moment, he didn't react to it. After his mind settled in, though, he moved his hand forward, tracing the edges of the test with his hand, getting a feel for how large the sheet of paper was. With an internal sigh, he then traced for small bumps, indications of the first sentence. Hopefully human subjects didn't differ too greatly from foreign ones, though school itself was a mostly foreign concept to him in the first place.



It became quickly clear to Ardunayne after receiving the assignment that the teacher wasn't going to put too much effort into actually enforcing it. Some of the other students almost immediately turned in their seats, chatting quietly among their fellow students. She was internally thankful not only for the lax enforcement of the reading assignment, but also for the knowledge that he was finally done with his story. Naturally, she hadn't been listening, pushing the irrelevant story into it's own isolated corner as soon as it became clear that this tale, whatever it has been about, held no relation to the class assignment. She wondered if all human teachers were so laid back; hoped they were. It would make her day easier, allow her to put up with being around these humans a little more. It would also give her a chance to better isolate her fellow Order members. She reminded herself to keep tabs on future teachers, though. They could very well be agents too.

Not Mr. Normandy, though. There was no way he was a disguised agent, and given that enthralling story - what little she had heard of it - it seemed incredibly unlikely he was the opposing faction either. Even for them, that story was painful. If there were Brotherhood agents nearby, she doubted even they were entertained by that tale.

She pushed the sheet of paper aside with a small sigh. If the students were getting away with chatting others up, then there was a chance she could do so as well. She hoped it. Slowly, but surely, the idea of a possible past ally being not more than ten feet away from her had been gnawing at her bones, constantly crying for her attention. Well, if that was where her attention was needed, she'd be willing to put it there for the time being. There was certainly nothing better to concern herself over. Immediately, she turned in her seat, checking to see if she was being watched. She opted out of watching the female, this time turning her attention to her ally. She wanted to know soon, very soon, if this was Morph, and if there was any chance to find out, now might very well be it. She waited for him to fully turn her way before waving once again, holding back a purr, as it would be abnormal to the humans.



Ferdinand had smiled when Corbin had reached the comment about his friend's ability to lose things, and the small quip about him losing his head. This hadn't been the first time he had heard that joke - it certainly would not be the last - but it was still charming, and he hadn't fully expected it from someone such as this fellow. Every time the nurse spoke, Ferdinand hushed himself, quietly waited and checked to make certain nothing else needed to be said before continuing his train of thought. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt anyone, but the nurse made it very well clear when he was finished speaking. Part of him wondered if Corbin was any level of concerned with the same concept, if he too was seeking not to interrupt. He certainly seemed more than polite enough to consider that thought.

Corbin's concern shown through as soon as the situation about teasing was addressed. Ferdinand could see a glow in his eyes that hinted he was worried; it was the same glow that Ferdinand would often give the children as the more willing ones told their tales. Admittedly, many kids didn't want to talk, felt nervous to tell their worries, their problems. He understood that. Somehow, though, Ferdinand had unintentionally ended up on the other end of the table, not that he was worried. It was interesting that Corbin seemed surprised by this concept, teasing for wearing glasses. It was common, had been for years among children. "That was many, many years ago, and I'm not worried anymore. Children are curious, after all, the way some will taunt others for things they cannot control. Children sometimes seek attention, or they wish to improve their own lives by tarnishing others. I don't like the idea that some children do this, but it happens. Adults tend to be more mature, so I would worry little about it now. If a child tried to taunt me now, I would think little of it." His smile widened. "Thank you for your concern."

((OOC: Welcome back, Wylrin! We missed you. You didn't miss too much, though. Just some casual conversations. I'm glad to have Elim and Plagarius back. Oh, and you too, Rachel.))

With another pretest of fifty-four questions sitting in front of her, Rachel's world seemed to shrink down to merely her piece of paper and her other math supplies, blocking out the rest of the classroom and its occupants. This is what always happened when the girl was given an assignment. She became completely zoned in on her project and either became oblivious to or blocked out what was going on in her surroundings. So by now, she had almost entirely forgotten about Vester's existence, and had completely missed seeing the other blind boy enter the classroom. Her annoyance towards Jax and her feeling of trepidation regarding Mr. White was obviously not so easy to dismiss, but she no longer focused on it, for her frustration was now fueling her initiative to lose herself in her work instead.

As much as her work could so easily overwhelm her, it was also almost a safe haven of sorts for her as well, in some strange way. She could pour the entirety of her focus - her entire being - into her schoolwork, and block out the rest of the world in doing so. Her work, in a way, was her world, which made it so easy to ignore other things, but also made it so devastating to her should she fail in any given academic assignment. And by "fail", that basically meant receiving any grade below an A. While this task in particular wasn't even a graded assignment, Rachel didn't allow herself any sort of excuse to not do her absolute best. So the girl was quickly lost in her work, her high expectations of herself allowing nothing less.

Mr. White was also quite immersed in his work, but unlike Rachel, his attention was not fixed on a simple piece of paper, but the entire classroom. He, unlike the preoccupied girl, had noticed the most recent student slip in, and sighed disdainfully when he did. Just how lenient were the human teachers here, he wondered, for any student to dare be even a second late for class? It had been tolerable when Ms. Emerson, Mr. Palmer, and Mr. Davis had been late, but only because that had been his own doing. He had set his classroom's clock five minutes ahead, and he asserted that the aforementioned students were tardy even when, in reality, they had entered the class well within good time. It was all part of a psychological test of his. All students knew without a doubt that the bell signaled the beginning and end of each and every class. It was simply a fact; an unwritten school rule that everybody knew. Well, what would happen should their math teacher - someone of authority, someone they perhaps even feared to an extent - subtly challenge that? What would happen if he asserted his own expectations, his own rules? Would they obediently conform to his authority, rejecting what they had always known in favor of appeasing him? Or would they insist upon the usual rules, question his authority? It was a test to see just how effectively fear could control these students. Could he make them submit to his rules? Or couldn't he? That remained to be seen.

So his hostility towards the three students in regards to their "tardiness" had all been an elaborate act on his part, to place blame on them to put them in their place - a place where they would be more susceptible to his methods of control. This most recently arrived student, however, had actually been late, having arrived after the bell rang, which was obviously unacceptable. Anyone else might have taken pity on the boy, for obvious reasons, but Elim was completely aware that Telai was blind, and he simply did not care. Disability or not, the Targibbon would not treat him - or Mr. Davis, for that matter - any differently than he did the other students.

So as he finally passed the boy his test, he told Telai in a hushed (for the students were actually working now, and he didn't want any distraction to give them any sort of excuse to keep from doing so) yet fierce tone, "Do not expect any sort of leniency from me. You may be blind, but you are still a student of mine, and I will not tolerate any sort of tardiness from you. I expect you to arrive here on time from now on." With that, he continued on past the boy's desk, seeing no reason he give the student any sort of window to defend himself. With that being done, he continued to stalk up and down the rows of desks the way a lion might do so. Any other teacher probably would have settled back down at their desk, but Mr. White wasn't going to let his presence be so easily dismissed. He was the one in control here, and he was going to make sure everybody in this classroom knew that.


"I see," was Corbin's only immediate reply, which was strange, for normally the man said so much more when he spoke. He was the sort to say his thoughts aloud, but being an alien on a mission such as this, such a thing wasn't at all wise to do. So instead he thought in silence. He really wasn't pondering Ferdinand's words - for the nurse's earlier statement had been true; he did see, did understand. What he was thinking of was how the psychologist's problem of being teased for wearing glasses as a child wasn't as foreign to the alien doctor as he had initially thought. The subject of human glasses in general was a foreign one to him, of course, but children being children was something Plagarius was not at all unfamiliar with. It gave him some degree of perspective, in a way. Humans and aliens weren't really different at all in this way - and in many other ways, too. True, no one the Corvonian had ever known had ever been teased for wearing glasses, but only because glasses weren't a part of their culture. He could think of plenty of other things children were teased for - what he himself had once been teased for - on his own planet. This similarity between the human and the Corvonian didn't surprise the doctor, but it sparked a reaction within him, all the same. It fueled his desire to learn just what other things they had in common. It strengthened his sense of purpose here on Earth.

Knowing that he had been uncharacteristically quiet for some time, and that his earlier response had been just as uncharacteristically vague, Corbin elaborated, "Yes, I understand. I confess, I myself have never known anyone to be teased for such a thing as wearing glasses. Of course, I've never actually known anyone who wore glasses before, so I suppose I wouldn't know." He smiled, seemingly amused by his own ignorance, then continued, "I am grateful to hear that your troubles did not pursue you into adulthood, however. There are times when children take their habit of ridiculing others with them into adulthood. It is good to hear that you do not seem to have the same problem with adults in that regard."

((OOC: Elim, you cruel, sneaky frogman. D:
Also, glad to be back. X3))

Syndral had been solving puzzles all throughout Mr. Normandy's story, and by the time he actually got to talking about the course outline, she was too distracted to catch any of it. She was invested in finishing the puzzles now, finally having something to do that was at least trying to challenge her intellect. Every level completed only led to a harder one, which presented the Zvarranik with a seemingly neverending task to complete. Beating a level brought a brief sense of satisfaction, but the game wasted no time to present a new challenge. This was something Zvarraniks liked, feeling accomplished for successfully completeing something, while also still wanting more work to do. Syndral was actually enjoying these puzzle games.

She was so focused on the game that she didn't even realize the teacher tasked them with reading and had gone back to his desk. The classroom went ignored as she solved puzzles one after another, with the same drive Syndral often had when working on a task. She could get so lost in her work that the rest of the world seemed to fade away and become forgotten. While these puzzles obviously weren't anything important, they did require intellegence and focus, with a difficulty raise every time a level was completed. This appealed to the Zvarranik and kept her attention, with a drive to beat the game completely. Once a Zvarranik is focused on completeing a task, it is difficult to get their attention. Syndral didn't even react to Morph saying the name of her alias. Since it was not her real name, it was not enough to break her concentration.



Dax sighed as he stared down at his pretest. The day had only just started and he was already given a boring assignment. It was only the second day of school, couldn't they just be allowed to sleep instead? This pretest wasn't even graded, what was the point even? It was just some dumb idea to keep the students quiet and busy. The boy checked all his pockets on the off chance he somehow happened to have a pencil on him. All he found were the broken ruler pieces he picked up, his schedule, his lunch money, and a pack of gum. Oh well, no pencil here. So Dax put everything away, except for the gum, which he immediately opened and put in his mouth. He was glad he found it, since he completely forgot he even had gum.

As he chewed on his gum, he looked around the room to see if he could borrow supplies from anyone. Dax turned in his seat, looking behind him to see Rachel for the first time. He blinked, as he didn't even realize before now that they had first period together. He smiled, until the thought occurred to him that the girl had a front row seat to witness his behavior earlier. At this, Dax sighed. She was probably ticked off at him now. Well, not right this second, 'cause she was clearly focused on her work, but he knew he'd get a lecture or something afterwards. Dax wasn't looking forward to that.

Still, he needed a pencil at the very least in order to do the pretest. Normally, he would have borrowed one from Rachel, but she had already started working. Dax knew she blocked out the world and focused on working when she had an assignment. Distracting her would not be easy, or even smart. She was surely already angry with him for his antics, so bothering her now would only add to that. Plus, Dax would distract her only to ask for supplies, which would surely only annoy her further. It wasn't a good situation, and it was clearly a bad time to try to talk to her.

So with that settled, Dax faced forward and put his head down on his desk. If he couldn't work, then he'd sleep. That was usually his course of action anyway. He hadn't really noticed that another student had come in late, not that he would have cared all that much. The boy closed his eyes before realizing that Mr. Locklear was patrolling the room, not that it would have made a difference to him. He still felt tired and in need of a nap, and he wasn't bothered by the math teacher like the others were. He was just another teacher, after all, right? Nothing at all to worry about. What was the worst he could even do, call his parents? Like that would accomplish anything, the boy scoffed to himself.

Telai says nothing, just nodding, in response. He'd show this teacher, he'd show him just how wrong he was about him. Telai may be blind but his IQ was not something to laugh about. As soon as he receives the test, he sets to work. Completing the questions rapidly and well, he is likely going to complete the test very soon. He had studied for this test long and hard, no lack of sight was going to stop him. He was a top student and he was going to show Mr. White, he was no pushover.

Mort was just about to say something to Ardunayne when he made eye contact, until he realized that Diane hadn't responded. He turned back to her, seeing that she didn't seem to even register that she had been addressed. She must have been focused on her puzzle games or something. He didn't think anything more of her unresponsiveness and opted to get her attention again.

"Psst, Diane! Hey!" he tapped her shoulder. "Over here!"

Cryktin tried to focus entirely on the test, to not worry about his surroundings. Every movement caught his attention, subtle sounds easily overlooked catching his attention. If another student scooted their chair a little, it was obvious, giving him an good concept of where another student was sitting. The scratching of pencils on the paper were far louder to his ears than others, but at least it gave a clear idea that everyone was working hard on these tests - or at least putting forth a decent enough effort. All of these noises were things he tuned from his mind, as they were trivial and only served to distract him more greatly. He would have plenty of time to map the classroom, but now was a less than appropriate time to start learning. Something told him that if he didn't finish this test in a very orderly fashion, he would receive a personal talking-to from Mr. White, and that was definitely undesirable for him.

However, Cryktin couldn't ignore the footsteps. Someone was moving around the room, slowly, but purposefully. It didn't take his mind long to settle on Mr. White. If a student had risen from their seat, the strict nature of the teacher would've likely put a quick stop to it, and something told Cryktin he would not be shy about announcing it clearly. The first concern he had was if Mr. White was approaching him, coming his way. For some reason, he fretted a little over the idea. His mind was eased as the footsteps changed direction, moved away, then stopped. He was either wandering idly, or aiming for someone else. Both were far more pleasant.

With a sigh, he focused back on his test.



Ardunayne usually would have stepped in for an encounter as such, didn't like the idea of one person showing an unresponsive reply to someone else attempting to catch their eye. Given how social she often was, she responded to just about anyone who attempted to catch her eye, only ignoring a person if it would be downright inappropriate to speak with them. That usually only applied for missions which required extreme subtlety. This one was asking less; don't get caught. Easy. Yet, she didn't like the idea of stepping in right now, as it might tarnish her chances of getting to speak with either of them on a friendly note. That wouldn't be good at all.



Ferdinand had noted the silence, the change in energy once more. It was similar to when they had first started speaking, when Corbin had shifted from a little shy and quiet to far more boisterous. Only difference was the transition. It was reversed almost. It seemed almost as though he had retreated back into that corner for a short time, silence haunting the room as Ferdinand finished his train of thought and nothing occurred of it. No immediate response, very minor emotional reaction. It was almost as though his dialogue has triggered an internal conflict inside the nurse, but that was a little nonsensical to consider.

"How curious, having never met an individual wearing glasses," Ferdinand said thoughtfully. For a moment, it made him sound suspicious, but as he continued, he showed himself to be nothing of the sort. If anything, he was interested to know more, where and how exactly this man had grown up. It was clear he had an interesting childhood, though good, given what a positive man he was as an adult. "I have met adults who still hold fondly on to their childhood habits, but those are few and far between men and women. I have far greater concerns in my adulthood than something like mild bullying." He had avoided asking about Corbin's childhood. It seemed too intrusive.

As Mr. White stalked down the rows of desks, his eyes scanned over each and every one of the students critically. Most of them seemed to be hard at work, or were at the very least pretending to be. He would see soon enough when he graded their papers just which ones were actually committed to their assignment and which ones were merely pretending in order to avoid his scorn. The latter was hardly acceptable, but it was tolerable for the time being. Right now he had to establish his control before forcing any further improvement out of these teenagers. While sitting and pretending to do their work wasn't accomplishing anything, it wasn't challenging his authority, and it showed some degree of obedience - or at the very least, a certain level of fear they had of their new math teacher. For now, it was good progress that these students were all so affected by his tactics.

All except, of course, for one.

To say he was surprised by Jax's head lying on his desk would have been a lie, but he wasn't at all pleased with the boy's current behavior, either. Mr. White supposed it was an improvement that he wasn't reclined in his seat with his head on Ms. Emerson's desk like he owned the place, but he was still far from complient, and that simply could not go unaddressed.

With a small, quiet sigh, Mr. White walked over to his own desk, retrieving a thick, hardcover book before stalking over to hover over Jax. Once he was there, he paused for a moment, before abruptly pushing the desk forward and out from under the boy, leaving the student nothing to rest his head on. Elim wasn't about to go on a tirade and disrupt the class from their work, but he wasn't about to let Jax win so easily, either.


"Yes, I'm sure it must seem strange," Corbin said with a small laugh. "About as strange as a male school nurse, no doubt." The last part was added partly out of humor, though also partly to see how the psychologist would react. Plagarius really didn't like saying things just to observe the reaction of the listener, to "experiment" on people. He didn't like the feeling that he was dehumanizing Ferdinand, studying him like a sample in a laboratory instead of treating him like an individual, but he forced these thoughts out of his mind. He wasn't doing anything cruel, he rationalized with himself. He was simply curious about what sort of reply the man would offer.

The reason behind his curiosity was that the Corvonian - despite his limited understanding of human culture - perceived that it was considered an abnormality for men to be nurses on Earth. As a doctor, he had taken a particular interest in the humans' medical field, and whilst doing his research prior to this mission, he had discovered that it seemed that women were generally expected to be the ones to provide care. There were medical specialists - like surgeons and psychologists, for example - who were men, but it seemed that when it came to more interactive care with a patient, or when said patient was a child, it was expected for the care provider to be a woman. Gender roles like this didn't really exist on his planet; both males and females were just as equally sociable, which is what Corvonians are generally known for. Plagarius was curious to see just what Ferdinand thought of a male nurse sitting in front of him. Would he view it as strange, as many humans seemed to? Or would he consider it to be nothing worth even mentioning?

As curious as the bird-like alien was to hear the other man's reply, he was still quite the courteous little fellow, and still responded to the psychologist's last statements, with just as much interest. "That is true. There are so many things to consider in adulthood. Such trifles should not be among them." He seemed to ponder something for a moment, before adding, "There are other things of much more importance."

Syndral had just completed another level of her game, when she felt something on her shoulder. Her focus on the puzzles had now been broken, but it better had been for a good reason. She didn't like being pulled away from an activity she was working on. At that moment, Syndral realized someone had not only broken her concentration, but had made physical contact. She turned her head to look over her shoulder with a glare, and was about to add a hiss, when she noticed it was Morph. Oh, right, he was the one sitting behind her.

Blinking, her expression returned to its neutral state. Syndral turned in her seat to better face him, and only glanced back at her phone long enough to close out of her game and put it back in her pocket. "What is it?" She asked, no hint of annoyance in her tone. Since it was Morph who got her attention, she wasn't irritated anymore. He likely had a good reason for doing so.



Dax didn't seem to notice that his desk was moving, yet he was leaning forward more in an attempt to follow it and keep his head laying on it. However, the desk eventually got to a point where it was simply out of his reach. This left him nearly falling forward out of his chair, until he caught himself, outstretching his arms to hold onto the desk for support. Dax sat there like that for a moment, staring at the desk in front of him. Huh, strange. Since when do desks move on their own like that? He bent down further, eyeing the legs of the desk. Nope, no wheels here. So that wasn't the problem. The boy looked over other parts of the desk. There seemed to be nothing odd about it. There was no magic aura around it, there was no highly intelligent brain controlling it, there seemed to be no gremlins around. They didn't like bright lights anyway, he reminded himself. The desk seemed normal. Weird. What caused it to move then?

Dax finally leaned back in his seat in confusion, folding his arms as he stared at the desk, and only then did he notice someone standing over him out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, seeing Mr. Locklear. Oh, of course. Figures Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud would be behind this. Maybe he was a gremlin in disguise. No, he was too serious to be one of those fun, mischievous little guys. So what's his deal? Dax was sure he wasn't disturbing anyone this time. Unless he was snoring. Maybe he was snoring. What, was there a crime against snoring? "What, dude?" He asked, quietly, a hint of annoyance in his tone. This was easily the rudest teacher he had ever met.

Morph noticed the glare Diane had for a split second, and his stomach almost flipped. The apparent irritation was gone in an instant when she seemed to realize that it was he who had tapped her shoulder-- oh dang it, why did he touch her shoulder? Why did he touch her at all? How could he forget how much the Zvarranik disliked physical contact, even a simple tap? He was so concentrated on talking to Ardunayne that he forgot that-- how long had he been frozen in place like that?

"Oh-- Oh, uh," Mort gestured to the student he meant to have them both address. While he was having his inward panic, he clenched his hands together and held them closer to him, and further away from her. Heat seemed to crawl up and down his skin, and it only felt worse at this point.

Ardunayne observed the interaction between the two. There was poor reception to the touch. She made little of that, though. There were several people of both male and female genders she knew who downright hated being touched, for a number of reasons. It didn't give her any indications on who, if anyone she knew, the female could be. The response from the male was uncertain, nerved even. Ardunayne waited to see if anything would occur further, might even try to catch the female's attention if the male failed to add anything.



Cryktin paused for a fleeting moment. There had been a louder noise across the room, too loud to be a mere chair shifting in place. Had someone moved an entire desk? He considered for a moment the direction of the noise. It was close to where the voice from the student had been, the one who had opted to annoy the teacher. Was he bothering the teacher again? Silently, if that was the case. While his head rose a little, it did not bother to turn. There would be no reason to do such a thing, given he wouldn't be able to get a visual perception of the encounter. He was internally hoping that one student, whoever he was, was not the reason for the noise.

Maybe Mr. White was just moving something around, or another student. There was no guarantee it had any relation to the student in question. Cryktin tried to push negative thoughts over any person, teacher or student. He was here to be a positive force in the lives of humans, to see them as allies and companions. Thinking poorly of them would do him little favours.

This student could have been actually very clever, but not a heavily motivated person, or this could be a bad portrayal of him. Maybe he just slept poorly last night and is suffering from it. As for Mr. White, maybe life just wasn't fun for him. Perhaps when his home was actually less fun than school, work was the lesser of two evils for him, or he was just not that into kids. Not all people were. There could always be a way to explain offsetting behavior.



As soon as Corbin suggested that a male nurse was strange, Ferdinand laughed. It was by no means a mocking laughter, mockery being a personality trait that the psychologist was likely incapable of portraying correctly. It was pure amusement in it's purest form. This comment only made Ferdinand even more curious about the nurse's life growing up, even about what he had been a part of before this school. Something told him it would be a fascinating story - long maybe, but likely worth sitting through. As long as the students were in no need of his services, he had plenty of time to listen. He was mostly concerned he was holding Corbin back. Unlikely. He seemed too concerned about others to stick around if someone needed help. Ferdinand imaged he would race to assist an injured student.

"You find a male nurse strange?" Ferdinand asked, a short chuckle and a small smile revealing to what degree it amused him. "Of all the things to find strange, given what I've heard from you..." He shook his head as he trailed off, but continued to hold expressions that were in good humour. "You're a fascinating man, Mr. Beake. I've never met someone with such interesting views, and expression of those views." Something told him they would get a long wonderfully.

"I like that, though. Don't get me wrong. The world is often looked at in such a cut-and-dry manner, with such dull shades of grey, that it's exciting to meet a person who can catch me by surprise with a couple of simple sentences." He folded his hands in front of him. "And here I thought you were easy to read." It might have been easy on the outer layer, but deep inside was a far more challenging situation.

Mr. White made no move to interrupt Jax's investigation of the desk. He simply stood there until his presence was finally registered. At the boy's annoyed inquiry, the math teacher said nothing. Instead, he merely seated himself on top of the student's desk - eliminating any possibility of him laying his head down again. For a moment he simply sat there facing him, perched like an eagle watching its prey with sharp eyes, until he picked up Jax's untouched pretest. Without a word, he handed the boy the paper on top of the hardcover book - for he had stolen the student's desk, and thus a hard surface to write on, but he wouldn't allow that to excuse him from doing his work - as well as a simple pencil. Having done that, Mr. White made no move to budge an inch, simply sitting atop the desk and staring down at Jax with an indecipherable look.


The nurse simply smiled amusedly at Ferdinand's reaction. Laughter was not what he had been expecting, but it was refreshing, all the same. If Plagarius was interpretting the man's reactions correctly, then he assumed that the psychologist found his eariler statement to be hilariously strange in itself. While it was nice to hear him laugh, the Corvonian also wondered if, perhaps, his information had been incorrect. He had gathered from his research that there were certain expectations from both men and women here on Earth, but Ferdinand was reacting to the notion as if it was silly. Maybe he had been incorrect after all, or perhaps this human simply had a different opinion from that of what was generally regarded as fact in society. Both cases were just as plausible, given his general ignorance of human culture, as well as not knowing much about Ferdinand himself yet.

"I suppose there are stranger things about me," he agreed with a soft chuckle. While the concept greatly amused him, it also worried him slightly. Did he really come off as such a strange character? The whole point of this mission was to blend in, something the Corvonian knew he would struggle with, but he'd only just met this gentleman, and already he was perceived as strange. Plagarius didn't mind this in the slightest, but he worried about it for the sake of the mission. Just how badly did Corbin stand out among humans? Suspiciously so? He hoped not.

As Ferdinand went on, the doctor's worries began to dissolve. The psychologist seemed to find his peculiarities to be endearing, rather than alarming. The thought made Corbin's smile widen, both out of relief and out of joy. Not only was Ferdinand unperturbed by his strangeness, but he also seemed to rather enjoy it. It made the bird-like alien feel all warm and fuzzy inside seeing just how well the two of them were getting along. They were steadily forming a bond, the sort of which the Corvonian had always so desperately hoped for upon coming to Earth. He felt nostalgic in a way, almost as if he were a kid again, making his first friend. The intensity of the emotions he was feeling right now was certainly comparable to that of the event in his childhood - such strong feelings of happiness. And hope.

Unable to banish the smile from his face, Corbin told the psychologist, "I'm inclined to say the same of you, my good man. You are quite unlike anyone I have ever known." In more ways than Ferdinand need know. "You have quite an interesting perspective," he continued. "It is certainly... refreshing."

He paused for a moment, and in that moment his smile seemed to turn more playful; mischievous, even. "I must admit, I rather look forward to suprising you more in the future." It was almost like a friendly challenge had been issued, a new game was being introduced. Plagarius was rather intrigued and excited by the idea of being a mystery, when normally he was, like Ferdinand said, such an open book, so easy to read. He felt a child-like excitement at the thought of surprising the man whose profession was to so easily peer into other people's minds. It would be an interesting exchange between the two of them, for they were both searching for information in the other person, and so eagerly analyzing whatever little clue they could find.

It would be a fascinating game to play.

Syndral simply continued to quietly stare at Morph while she waited for a response. She didn't react to his pause or apparent discomfort. She didn't really think too much of it. She figured he was behaving that way due to the way she had glared at him. Syndral considered apologizing for a moment, but ultimately decided against it. She didn't want to waste too much time by dwelling on the event. She simply wanted to move on to why he had gotten her attention in the first place.

As he made the gesture, the Zvarranik turned her gaze to the student. Ah, of course, the potential agent. A valid reason for getting her attention. Now what to do about the situation. It seemed apparent that Morph wanted to interact with this possible agent in some way, perhaps to officially confirm that it was indeed an ally of theirs. While she wanted to do the same, Syndral wasn't sure about how to go about doing that.

She glanced at the teacher. Sure, he had left them to read to themselves, but would he care or even notice if they tried to have a conversation? Was this even the best time or place to even try to interact? They would have to talk in code, if they were even allowed to talk at all, which would be difficult to do unless they moved closer together. Unless they were expected to communicate in silence, which was possible, but arguably more difficult.

Syndral thought about what kind of signal she could send to this other student, but she wasn't sure of what sign she could give that would have her possibly stand out to an agent she might know. This agent might not even know her at all. Then again, she was the only Zvarranik in the Order. Perhaps the others knew of her existence at the very least. Although the question remained, how to identify herself without revealing herself.

Syndral had no stand out traits that could be used as a good signal, unless she started engineering in the middle of class. A thought occurred to her. Her interest in robotics could be considered common knowledge, even among humans, as she mentioned that in her introductions yesterday. She reached into the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out Izvi, her robotic fly. Syndral always carried at least one bugbot with her at all times, and at the moment, Izvi was the only one on her person.

As a fly, Izvi could easily go unnoticed by the humans and not be seen as anything strange. Get a close look at it, however, and one could easily tell the difference between its metallic body and that of a real fly. Syndral hoped that this potential agent might recognize one of her signature bugbots, or at the very least, a human wouldn't think much of it. Time to test her reaction. She opened up her hand and Izvi flew off. It flew straight to the other student, landing on her desk. It sat still, facing her, secretly scanning her to see if it could identify her. Syndral watched with a focused gaze, waiting to see how the student would react.



Dax simply continued to sit there with his arms folded, watching the teacher with a bored expression. He blinked as Mr. Locklear sat down on his desk. Oh, great, was he about to get another long, boring lecture? Wouldn't that disrupt the other students? He was soon proven wrong, as the math teacher said nothing. Mr. Locklear just sat there, staring at him. Dax just yawned. He was in no mood to have a staring contest with the guy. He considered trying to nap again even with nothing to lay on, until his pretest was handed to him. He was about to make a comment on how he didn't have a pencil, when he received one. Instead of immediately making the mistake of leaving, Mr. Locklear didn't budge. Wow. This guy was good, in the most annoying and rude way possible. Still, Dax had to give him props. He played the toughest game of any teacher yet.

The boy almost wanted to make another move, to challenge him further, as if this were all just a game to him. He considered it for a moment, and perhaps would have simply leaned back and put his head back on the desk behind him, if not for one simple fact. Rachel was there. While Dax wasn't afraid of her by any means, he didn't want to upset her. She was busy working away, being a good little student like she always was, and he didn't want to interfere with that. This was his battle, and he didn't want to get her involved.

However, Dax wasn't sure of what other move to make, unless he simply did nothing. While it didn't sound bad in theory, what he really wanted to do right now was sleep, which he clearly couldn't do with Mr. Hawkeyes over here watching his every move. Geez, was this guy ever a kid? Did he ever have fun? Did he even know what fun was? It didn't seem possible. Apparently, he was born as a total fun-sucker. A thought occurred to Dax. Maybe this guy would just leave him alone to sleep if he actually completed the assignment first. Other teachers often allowed it, so why not? It was worth a try. Anything to get even a moment of rest.

So with that settled, Dax actually began the pretest at a rapid pace. He flew through it, barely even reading the darn thing, and simply answering at complete random. It didn't matter to him, as it wasn't graded anyway. All that mattered was finally getting some rest. He didn't even care if Mr. White was given a supposed win. He just wanted to sleep, but apparently sleeping in here was a crime.

Despite his odd behavior, Diane simply carried on as if the uncomfortable event had never happened, catching the meaning of his gesture and pondering how she would get the other agent's attention. He watched as she pulled out the bugbot from the night before and released it. Good, that would be a clear message if she inspected it closely.

Since things went back to normal, Morph could relax and try to forget about the awkward happening. Rubbing the hand that had tapped her, he glanced around at the other students, seeing if anybody was watching them. The other students were focused on their own activities, whether it was talking quietly or actually reading. No one seemed to be watching them. Satisfied, he waited for the reaction of the other agent.

Silence took claim of the room. Whatever had been moving around before was over, done with. It had become irrelevant and Cryktin found he was able to settle peacefully into the rest of his work, finding far less trouble in it once his mind was at ease. The actions of others could always be explained, and eventually things would settle into a peaceful nature.



Ardunayne hadn't been looking in the female's direction when she released the little robot, and as such its origins were not immediately known to her. As it moved closer, she noted it's presence, though. Her eyes locked on to it as it made quickly to her, landing on the surface of the desk and nestling in. Her first thought was to swat it away, disgusting little creatures they were. She had raised her hand to do so, but then halted. Closer inspection revealed the creature was not quite was it seemed. It was not made of flesh and muscle, but metal, which made it a curious fact. She had spent enough time getting a basic idea of Earth to know such technology was fleeting. There was a semblance of robotic technology in the making, but it was nowhere near as complex as she had often come to know. She placed her hand quietly on the desk now as the little robot kept focused at her.

It had been motionless for a while, focus directed strongly in her direction. There was a very good chance it was performing some sort of subtle scan on her. If that was the case, that almost sealed the notion that she was very much in the presence of a fellow agent. She smiled outwardly at the very thought. It was comforting to think someone was around, though she was no less clear on the thought if she knew the person or not. It wasn't as though robotic technology was rare among alien races.

Ardunayne nudged her finger underneath the robotic insect, bringing it on to the tip of the finger. She lifted her finger ever so slightly.

Which one did it belong to? She turned in her seat to look in the direction of both the male and the female. She had been considering them both as aliens, after all. Her gaze flicked back and forth as she waited to see which one would react.



Ferdinand was watching the emotional changes as he spoke, the subtle shifts between cheer, slight concern, and joy. There could be many reasons for each reaction, and he pondered slightly about the momentary shift into a concerned appearance. For a moment, he fretted a little if he had offended the nurse. After all, every person was very different and some people were quicker to take offense to commentary than others. There were some people would could downright insult and they would show little concern, and others who could take offense to a casual comment, either because they seek the drama or they misinterpreted your comment. The concern didn't last, though.

He inwardly hoped Corbin saw him as a a friend or at least a friendly acquaintance. Everyone moved at different speeds when forming relationships, so it would be little strange for either to be the case. Given the references to the hypothetical future, it seemed case to say this was the case. Ferdinand found excitement in the future involving this nurse, getting to know him in a number of ways, the possible things they could achieve. Part of him wished he could see within the minds of others at times, to fully understand what goes on inside, how and why they react to a certain situation the way they do, what they truly think of him, his methods. That would be intrusive, but he couldn't deny the curiosity of it. If such a power ever existed, it would be challenging to resist using it. Not for evil, but for science and human nature.

"I am glad I appeal. Every person had different tastes on who they see in a positive light, and a friend of one is not guaranteed to be the friend of the other," Ferdinand said gently, wondering if he was over-explaining anything. Sometimes he got a bit too excited about speaking about people and how they behave, he would explain things in depth and sometimes forgot that there were plenty of other people who already understood what he was saying, maybe even thought like him. "It does not make one person any worse than the other. Compatibility in a relationship is fleeting, after all."

Ferdinand paused for a moment before adding more dialogue. "If anything I say ever concerns or offends you, please speak up. I never seek to be harsh to people and I would prefer my errors be realized before they become a problem." Was that too abrupt? Hopefully not.

Mr. White neither moved an inch nor uttered a word as Jax finally put pencil to paper and started working on his pretest. His expression didn't change in the slightest as the boy hastily scribbled down answers, seemingly without any thought given towards the problems. He simply sat there silently, never averting his stare from Jax to even so much as glance at the other students.


As Ferdinand spoke, Corbin hummed thoughtfully at the psychologist's words. Plagarius could certainly relate. The Corvonian could very easily make friends with just about everyone, but that didn't mean everyone else was just as prone to do the same. He was the sort to regard nearly everyone he interacted with as a friend, but that didn't mean that certain people would view him as a friend in turn. Just like Ferdinand had said, it didn't make those certain individuals any less of good people, it merely meant that they did not connect with him the same way he did with them. It was something he had been forced to accept ages ago. When he was younger, he would try relentlessly to get other people to like him - which, looking back on it now, probably only pushed them farther away. He had always thought back then that if someone didn't like him from the start, then he must have been doing something wrong. So he would try and try to befriend people, thinking that if they didn't want to be his friend, then they must not like him for some reason, and Plagarius simply must find out why so he could fix it. As he grew older and more experienced in interacting with people of other species, he slowly learned to see that this simply wasn't the case. People could still be on good terms without being best of friends, and he wasn't doing anything wrong if someone just didn't want to be that close with him.

It almost gave him a sense of deja vu, hearing the psychologist voice the very concept that had taken the doctor so long to figure out. It made him smile too, for as he was anxious and nervous as to whether a friendship to form between the two of them, Ferdinand seem to share that very same concern, as well. It was amusing, in a way. Plagarius was worried about how the psychologist might regard him, while it seemed Ferdinand possessed a similar tinge of worry about how the nurse would feel about him. Why else would he bring up the fact that the friend of one was not the guaranteed friend of the other? It put him at ease that the man seemed just as eager to form a friendship as he was, and in a way, it almost made him feel silly for having worried at all. But it was no matter now. The both of them were more than willing to form a friendship, and that's all that mattered to him.

Corbin was about to say something, but paused when Ferdinand spoke up again. He listened, and as he did, his expression became concerned once again. Unlike the last time, where he had pondered quietly to himself before responding, Plagarius worked out his thoughts verbally this time, saying, "Oh. Did I say something to indicate...? Did I somehow convey that you offended me in some way?" He paused, averting his eyes to the floor. They stared intently at the flat surface, though they weren't focused on the floor itself, but instead whatever was going through his mind. This did not last long, however, for those eyes flicked back up to meet Ferdinand's, and, with a sorrowful gaze, the nurse said softly, "I apologize, good sir. If I ever reacted in a way that you perceived as offended, it was not my intention to convey as such. I never meant to insinuate that anything you've said thus far has been harsh. Forgive me for ever implying as such."

This was an area Plagarius still struggled with - self-accusation. While he no longer blamed himself for not being able to be practically everyone's friend, he still had the tendency to blame himself for every little thing. Corvonians in general tended to be this way, as they strived to be accommodating to others, and so if something goes wrong, they're more than willing to take the blame. Perhaps too willing. Plagarius was even worse than the average Corvonian, unfortunately. If someone so much as sneezed, he'd probably apologize for it. Part of it was due to his friendly, caring nature, while another part of it probably had to do with his mindset as a doctor. As both a friend and a physician, he often felt that it was his responsibility to resolve any problem he encountered, even if it was beyond his control. So it wasn't unusual at all that he would blame himself in this situation when in reality, Ferdinand was merely telling him to be open with him.


((OOC: Sorry I was gone for a couple of days. I've been practicing for my driving test. :3 Part of me wanted to write more for Elim, but I think it's more intimidating when you don't know what's going on inside his head. Also, I have a feeling that Jax is going to wage a devastating prank war on Mr. White for being so "rude". X3))

Syndral narrowed her gaze slightly when the student raised a hand towards her bugbot. While Izvi wouldn't be so easily broken and could easily dodge a simple swat, she never liked seeing her creations threatened. They were designed to be able to take care of themselves when faced with danger, and could always be repaired and rebuilt, but she still had a tendency to get upset over them getting damaged. The robots were more than just machines to the Zvarranik. They were often her only company.

However, the possibility of Izvi even being swated at was quickly reduced as the student halted. She seemed to notice that something was different about this fly. Syndral watched to see if the student would think anything of this discovery, or simply dismiss it as a simple science project or something. She caught notice of the smile. Either this discovery meant something to her, or she was simply a human student who liked robots. Syndral figured either was possible. There was a robotics class here after all.

Izvi completed the scan on the student, seeing that she was indeed not human but rather a member of the Order. While being able to identify agents wasn't exactly information that was accessible to the public, the fly was able to identify certain agents due to a shared history with Syndral. If she knew about them and had worked with them before, her robots could identify them. They were programmed to know every piece of information that she did, and also be able to tell the difference between allies and enemies.

Since the student was confirmed to be an ally, Izvi had to send the message to Syndral. It would normally just send the information directly to her phone, but there was a risk that a human could sneak a peek and learn something they shouldn't. Syndral didn't want to take any chances, so Izvi was ordered to be more subtle instead. So the fly simply flew a circle around the student and landed back on her finger. Since Izvi hadn't returned to her, Syndral knew this student had to be a friend. At this realization, she gave a small smile.



Dax never looked up once as he sped through the pretest. He just kept his eyes locked on the paper while he rapidly jotted down whatever answer came to mind. Pretty much the first number that popped into his head upon reaching a question was what he put down, regardless of whether or not it even made sense. Of course, there was no work to be found, and he didn't even seem to be taking the time to read anything. He scribbled so hastily that his handwriting almost didn't even appear to be readable on some questions.

It wasn't too long before he had flown through all the questions, as he clearly didn't waste a second on any of them. It would likely take some sort of miracle for him to get even a single question right, not that he cared, as it wasn't graded. Dax breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, that mess was over with. Now he could hopefully get some rest. He set the book and pretest on the floor by his chair, with the pencil on top. With a yawn, he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes and tried to get as comfortable as he could.

Morph had been watching the small, subtle events unfolding without distraction. He was already sure that this student was actually an agent, and was not surprised when she interacted with the robotic fly in the manner that she did. All that was left now was for her and Syndral to have mutual knowledge. When the bugbot circled Ardunayne once and Diane smiled, he knew that they had.

He sighed, relaxed that they'd finally cleared it up. As much as he wanted to initiate a conversation, he figured that he'd best wait. There was still a slight chance that they'd misread each other, and he didn't want to risk saying something that would turn out to be a red flag for any Brotherhood members who happened to listen in.

Ardunayne looked forward to getting a chance to speak with what was certain to be a couple of fellow agents. She had been waiting to encounter one and she hadn't been forced to wait long. She was still uncertain about hosting the conversation now, thought it might be a poor moment to do so. Instead, she kept attention on the little robot, pleased to see it here. She didn't stare at it too aggressively, worried someone might be a few levels of concerned about why she was so fascinated in an insect - if there were any wandering eyes, that is. There would be a chance soon.



As Cryktin finished off the last of the questions, he slowed his mind, tried to ease up within. Part of him had been fretting over the test, and a small fraction of that feeling still lurked around. He wasn't bad at math as a whole, but rather certain areas of math went right over his head and it was worrisome to consider any of those he encountered and how he answered them. It was merely a preset - supposedly the second one, not that he had been available for the first - and as such it would be little more than a means to gauge one's knowledge.

He was uncertain what he was intended to do with the test upon finishing it. He hadn't heard great movement in the room. Nobody had rose from their seats and the last bit of movement had been towards the students, almost certainly the teacher. It was unlikely they were meant to turn them in anywhere, not now anyways. He was too shy and intimidated by the teacher to ask. As such, he pushed the test near the edge of the desk, careful to make certain it didn't fall off the edge.

He heaved a sigh before nestling his head into his arms and sitting with his head down.



Ferdinand might have slightly misread Corbin's emotions, but it was always safe to mention such a topic anyways. Cover your bases while they are still open to be covered. It would be awful, after all, to mess up such progress with a small offense. Every person bonded at a different speed, but it seemed like this was a quick moving relation. It was very likely this was just the nurse's nature, that he was just a social butterfly, quick to relate to others. That wasn't a bad thing at all and it was certainly a refreshment from all the negativity the modern era held.

"I was just being cautious," Ferdinand finally replied after several moments of quietly looking at Corbin and reading his stance, checking for non-verbal signals of any kind. "I would hate to mistakenly say something offensive and never know of my error. It would be impossible to correct if I was never informed of it." His prior thoughts were returning to him, about the broad spectrum of the people in the world. A lot of times he was forced to act that way, to look at the world as a broad. There were so many people he could and would encounter and while a broad spectrum didn't explain everyone, it certainly helped with having popular opinion. He sighed externally, a mistake, but an unchangeable one.

"Do forgive me," He began, speaking his thoughts out loud now. "In my field, I am often forced to guess how the average person would act, to view the world in a wide scale. People today can be..." He trailed for a moment. Should he go there? "Negative. There are so many people, youths and mature, whom look at the world as an evil, hostile place, and they form a defensive wall. I often assume people to be easily offended as many are."

He placed his hands on the table, exhaling loudly to try and banish any signs of a negative mood. His voice rose clearly in pitch. "I forget there are people out there like you and I who aren't like that. I forget that the broad doesn't necessarily portray each and every person within it. Being part of a group does not make you like them. You don't appear an easily offended sort, but I've can never be too careful nowadays. He shook his head, a smile growing wide on his face. "Ha. Look at me, I'm explaining this vapid subject as if you're a student of mine seeking to learn my trade."

His smile widened as he chuckled a little more. Something about Corbin just eased his muscles, made his life that much more fun to be a part of. "I hope you keep living up to the image you've set for me. Because you've painted me an artistic beauty which I would recommend others hang on their wall."

Telai finishes his test and having taped up his broken black and white cane, uses it to navigate over to Mr. White's desk. Placing the finished test on the desk, he returns quietly to his seat. He is sure that he aced that test, after all he studied well and hard for it. Still he does not flaunt or brag about his genius, but rather keeps it to himself. He is a kind and compassionate soul that just wants to make friends and help others.

A tear falls down my cheek as I continue to play with the students. It is sure to be noticed by one of them, but I really don't care either way. I am enjoying every minute of this, despite the cold reality, that I will never be able to do this with my own kind. Still I wouldn't trade any of this time and opportunity for anything.

As Jax sped through his pretest, Mr. White allowed his gaze to sweep over the classroom, just to make sure the other students were still behaving themselves and not quietly goofing off behind his back. When he was satisfied that this was not the case, he returned his gaze to the boy in front of him. Jax had apparently just now finished his pretest, which he placed on the floor beside him. For a moment the math teacher didn't move an inch, instead simply opting to stare at the boy who seemed intent on getting back to sleep. At some point, however, Mr. White quietly slid off of the desk, crouching down to pick up the boy's pretest, as well as the book and pencil. He then stood and, instead of returning back to his own desk, the teacher simply sat back on top of Jax's desk. Retrieving a pen from the pocket of his suit jacket, he went about grading the boy's pretest right where he sat.

In the moments of silence before Ferdinand spoke, the nurse sat quietly. As he did, he watched the other man. Corbin's gaze, while not intense or unnerving, was definitely trained on him. It wasn't the sort of piercing stare that gave one the feeling that they were being critically analyzed, but it was obvious that he was watching every gesture and shift in facial expression. It was very similar to how the psychologist looked at him - or possibly everyone, for that matter - taking in every bit of information that could be garnered. It could be argued that the Corvonian always paid such close attention to who he was conversing with, but at this very moment he was being even more attentive than usual. This tended to happen when Plagarius was afraid of what a person's reaction might be. He would search the other's face and try to find some sort of clue as to what they were feeling. But all he could see in Ferdinand was almost a reflection of his own human face. The psychologist was studying him just as intently - if not more so - and this made it hard to gauge just what was going on in the man's head.

After a few moments, Ferdinand began to speak, and so Corbin listened, never averting his gaze from the other man. The psychologist would grow silent every now and then, seemingly pondering his next words, but Plagarius never interrupted. Instead, he simply sat quietly until he was finished. A moment of silence passed in the office, but the Corvonian soon began his lengthy reply, addressing each and every one of Ferdinand's points in the order in which they had been presented.

"You wanted to confirm that I wasn't misinterpretting your words, your intentions. I see that now. I confess, you rather caught me off guard, my good man. Normally I am the one who worries so much about such things, so having someone other than myself show that level of concern is foreign to me. Not to say that others I've interacted with have never shown care and consideration, mind you. I simply am unaccustomed to someone who is just as... forthright, in such circumstances. Many people tend to assume what their relationship is with another person simply from their interactions with said person. This is certainly not a fault, as much can be determined simply by how a person acts, but I find that it is rare for individuals to directly ask questions regarding a relationship.

"I feel most individuals tend to assume certain things depending on positive or negative reactions alone. Asking for verification in regard to one's relationship with someone seems rarer, though it is something I myself do on a regular basis. When you wanted to make sure that nothing you have said thus far has been offensive to me, that is something I likely would have done myself. I tend to be a bit... blunt in my inquiries at times, I suppose. I would rather verbally acknowledge something than simply assume, or hint at. I wasn't exactly subtle in conveying my interest in working with you." He smiled at that, then continued, "You seem to be the same way - to a degree, at least. You want to ensure that you are not hindering our blossoming friendship in any way." He laughed softly, saying, "You even speak on our relationship the same way I do. You are willing to discuss it, cultivate it, instead of simply letting it grow on its own. There is certainly nothing wrong with the latter, of course, but having someone else who will readily speak on such topics as this is... new to me. I cannot say I've ever discussed the intricacies of friendship with someone before." This was a half-truth. He's certainly discussed this sort of thing with other Corvonians - who will literally talk about anything and in great detail - but he's never had such a conversation with someone of another species before.

"Please, do not apologize," he went on, easily switching to the next point Ferdinand had made in his earlier speech. "Like I said, you were acting to ensure a mutual understanding between the two of us. You worried that I might be easily offended, so you resolved to ensure that this was not the case. I would have done the same." Tilting his head slightly, he pondered aloud, "I am uncertain if I would use the term "negative". I would say that it's merely a difference in perception. Not to dismiss your words, of course. Like you said, you've not managed to offend me in the slightest, but someone else could just as easily be offended by your very same words. It could be negativity or perspective, or perhaps they are the same thing. Look at the two of us - we seem to possess slightly different perspectives on perspective itself." He grinned at that for a moment, though eventually his human face returned to its usual, soft smile. "I do understand what you are getting at, though. Not everyone sees the world in the same light.

"We do seem to think rather alike, however. How curious." His smile widening slightly in reassurance, Corbin told the psychologist, "I would hardly call your profession a "vapid" subject. I believe it is my turn to tell you to "speak up": Do not feel afraid to discuss whatever is on your mind with me. True, I may not be a student of yours, but I take your words into just as much consideration as if I were one."

For the first real time, Plagarius seemed to pause in his dialogue, before finally addressing Ferdinand's last statement. "I must say, this is rather intimidating. How could I ever maintain such an image?" His tone, as well as the uncontrollable grin that split across his face, made it clear that he was joking. When that grin finally returned to its more calm, composed smile, he spoke up again, only this time his voice was softer, his words heartfelt. "In all seriousness, I could easily say the same of you. I did not know what to expect of you when I first knocked on your door, but I think it is safe to say that you have far surpassed any expectation I could have possibly made. You are a very pleasant surprise."


((OOC: I apologize for my absence lately. I passed my driving test, which, instead of feeling relief, made me lapse into a phase where I just wasn't getting enjoyment out of anything I did. My reactions to things are weird.
Also: Plagarius. You talk. So much. Honestly. You're making poor Elim up there look bad. ))

Ferdinand took in each word, committing as many as he could manage to memory, tracing the words in his mind. He was reading into each and every word, and not just the words themselves, but how they were used, what tone they were spoken in. Context was not the only relevant subject here. There was frequency of usage, moment of usage, and many other factors he could pointlessly delve into. To explain all of this even in his mind was a challenging endeavor, an internal conversation that could and likely would last for hours upon hours. Corbin was very consistent in his mannerisms, be they direct or indirect, but that didn't make him simple. In fact, he was complex at every turn, but simply complex in a manner which bordered on pattern-like. There was a balance between curiosity and knowledge. For everything that made him theoretically tilted his head in uncertainty, he equally has an intelligent comment to apply as well. He was confident in his information and believes, but also willing to listen to others and their opinions. Those, alongside his friendly nature, were all qualities Ferdinand quite liked in a person.

Even as Ferdinand hosted a conversation with Corbin, there was a secondary one happening within. For every word he spoke aloud, there was an equal internal equivalent, a question, comment, or observation which went unspoken, for Ferdinand was a man who preferred to choose his words carefully. Some things, for better or worse, were best left inside his mind.

"You'll find apologizing is quite in my nature, a constant I will hand to a person," Ferdinand finally spoke, shifting his hands and sighing very softly. "Many people out there will tell others to practice what they preach, and I certainly make use of that when it comes to verbal communications and social relations. I try my best to be a pacifist in any given situation, and I take these stances best as I can be allowed to. I would prefer to avoid conflict of any nature or size. Apologizing can be a conflict avoidance method, and while it is certainly poor to let others step upon you, seeking a conflict is a terrible idea. Naturally, some people would walk the ends of the Earth to find someone to fight or argue with, but I am perfectly fine to settle in and avoid these encounters. I will always apologize, especially if it makes a difference."

As the conversation continued, and as Corbin continued to add more subjects for consideration, Ferdinand held strongly onto his silence until it was appropriate to speak again, until another interesting subject popped up relevant for commentary. There was a small laugh before the next comment was add. "You are one of the few who would claim my work not to be of a vapid nature. Most listen to me rattle on and on over my psychological thoughts, methods, and theories and they likely aren't taking in most of what I'm saying. Not to be rude, but simple because such a concept is not relevant to their interests. I understand, of course. I can see why psychology might not entertain others. Human nature is dull to many."

"Of course, I enjoy your interest," Ferdinand quickly added. "It's lovely to think there are people who, given the time, would love to hear me out. I am required to hand out this warning right now, though. You could very well grow tired of listening to me speak. I will talk until my voice croaks out if you encourage me." He couldn't help but chuckle now, chuckle at himself for verbally announcing his own flaws to someone he had just met.

That just went to show how comfortable he had already grown with Corbin.

The final sentences immediately failed to slip past Ferdinand's radars. Before Corbin even grinned, it was immediately clear of the joking nature of the last comment. The slight slip up in the delivery, the sudden nature of it's addition. The grin confirmed it, but it hardly needed such a confirmation. "I haven't scared you off with my elongated chatter yet, so that already gives me a comforting place to settle into. You opinions of me are clearly positive, interest is clear. I just hope I can hold it. It would be wonderful to keep such thoughts in my mind throughout the day. I often tell people to find a reason to smile, no matter what that might be." He couldn't help but grin now, a wide smile growing upon his face at both his general mood and the realization of just how corny the line he had delivered truly was.

((OOC: You're fine. I've been incredibly busy anyways. Haha!))

Since now was likely a bad time to try communicating with the other agent, Syndral got her phone back out and started playing puzzle games again. She continued where she left off and the world around her proceeded to be ignored for the time being. Her thoughts didn't wander back to her fellow agents as she focused on solving problems. Being an introvert, Syndral was more indifferent to socializing with a new agent. She didn't feel too strongly one way or another, especially considering it wasn't yet confirmed who it was. While she had an idea, only Izvi knew for sure at the moment, and she unfortunately couldn't risk getting that information.

Since Izvi hadn't been ordered to return to its creator, and seeing how she was clearly busy with something else, it stayed with Ardunayne. With no assignment to complete, the robotic fly was free to make its own choices on what to do. Its programming simply told it to behave like a fly, so it did. Izvi flew around Ardunayne, briefly landing in various places before buzzing off to a new location. It stayed fairly close to her, but wasn't staying still like it was before.



Wanting something to rest his head on, Dax slid down in his seat until he could just about rest his head on the back of his chair. It was not a very comfortable position at all, but it was all he had to work with at the moment. Shifting and turning in his seat, he tried to get as comfortable as he could. He wiggled around so much that he nearly slid out of his seat. He just barely managed to catch himself. With a sigh, Dax slid back up, and decided on giving up trying to use the back of his chair as a pillow. He stole a glance at his desk, which the enemy of naps was still sitting on. What was the teacher planning to do, work from a student desk? Was he going to just stay there, staring at a single student all year long? He did realize that he had to teach the whole class, right?

Dax still didn't know what this guy's problem was. Maybe he just didn't know the true rest and comfort of a nice bed, and therefore swore to ruin sleep for all the fortunate people who had beds out of his own jealousy and fatigue. Maybe Mr. Sandman never paid him a visit, so he never had good dreams, and therefore must rob others of dreams. Maybe some weird monster who eats dreams and robs others of sleep kept bothering him every night, and now he's one of these monsters too. It was probably the last one, Dax figured. He did seem like a monster. A very rude, serious, cranky monster who's never had fun or a good night's sleep.


ooc: Sorry for replying so late, I was busy with life. I usually don't have much of one, but sometimes it sneaks up on me.

Morph observed and made note of what was going on. Diane went back to her puzzles, Ardunayne was watching the bugbot, and the bugbot begun a pattern matching normal fly behavior, only it seemed to be keeping within distance of the other agent. It now occurred to him that the name of her alias was still unknown. He wished that Mr. Normandy had asked her name when he brought her the book, although it made sense given how scatterbrained he appeared to be. He must have called out her last name during role call, but he wasn't even aware of her presence then.

Mort set his folded arms on the desk and huffed, watching the clock tick away impatiently. He didn't care to read the book at the moment, since he was thinking about what he'd say to her when they could talk. Class was to end sometime soon, but making note of every second that ticked away wouldn't make time go any faster. He frowned and looked away, giving a quiet growl as he began putting away his supplies.


OOC: I think we've all been busy at the same time. Ha, what are the odds?

Ardunayne has returned to her drawings eventually, noting the poor timing of a possible increased interaction. She kept an eye on the robotic insect as it buzzed near her, aware, but not to a point where it appeared she was only interested in what was intended to be a mere creature fluttering around the room. She had moved on from small sketches of shapes and swirly lines to an actual artistic piece. Though it had started as a mere circle, details began to grow on to it, forming it into not just a shape, but an actual creature. She scratched her pencil across the paper, detailing the thick fur of what appeared to be a cat - the head of one, at least. It had folded over ears and almond-shape eyes. At this point, the scratching of the fur was a way to pass the remaining time, a way to keep her mind in a fairly normal-looking place.

Her eyes darted to the clock every once in a while to keep tabs on the passing time and how much of it was left. She would check the clock, note the robotic insect was still flying near her, then return to her sketch. It became a pattern etched into her mind, something she would maintain until she could move on.

((OOC: I've been SO busy - like you can't believe... And stressed. That too))

How awfully fitting it was, for Jax to liken Mr. White to a monster. To the boy's human eyes, the math teacher's true form - as well as his intentions - would undoubtedly fall under that category. Funny how such an idle thought was so dangerously close to the truth, and he didn't even realize it.

As it was, Jax was oblivious to the truth behind his musings, and Elim was oblivious to the boy's image of his true nature. They were still both relatively safe, for now.

Neither of them would have the opportunity to further assess the other for today, however, for the bell chose that moment to ring, signaling the beginning of the next class. Mr. White himself didn't react much at all, even as the students around him took this as their cue to get out of the classroom as fast as they could. There would come a time when none of them would dare budge an inch until he verbally dismissed them - bell or no bell - but for now, he would allow them to scurry off without his direct instruction. Molding these students into a shape he saw fit would take time; not everything could be accomplished in a single day. So he simply sat there as the room began to empty, still marking off answer after answer on Jax's pretest as incorrect.


When the bell rang, Rachel was struck with mixed feelings. The first and foremost being a sort of panicked frustration. Between Mr. White's verbal lashings and Jax's behavior, she'd been quite fearful and agitated, respectively. Such distress naturally made it significantly more difficult for her to concentrate, to the point where it interfered with her ability to work optimally. So when that bell rang, she found herself with an uncompleted pretest that she needed to turn in. A strange mix of fear, guilt, and anger gnawed at her. Sure, it was just a pretest, but Rachel was the sort who didn't allow for anything under perfection when it came to any given assignment, graded or no. Even though she knew rationally that it wasn't a big deal, she still felt afraid of the repercussions, ashamed of her dismal failure at completing her assignment, and rage directed at herself for not doing better.

Rubbing her forehead, knowing that surely there was going to be a headache coming on, she gathered up her things before rising from her seat and dropping off her not quite finished pretest on the teacher's desk. With that, she trudged out of the room, where only now did she fully recognize the twinge of something else she had felt when the bell had rung - relief. Yes, it was a relief to be out of Mr. White's classroom, after all that had transpired in such a short amount of time. Still, any relief she felt was ultimately drowned under the plethora of frustration and anxiety she felt due to her incomplete pretest. Huffing slightly, she made her way towards her next class, hoping English would be better than Math had turned out to be.


Within the confines of the school psychologist's office, Corbin was listening attentively to his new friend's speech. As he listened, he could not help but note how very much alike the two of them were. It was surprising, to say the least, as the Brotherhood member had been expecting something more... well, alien from this human. As it was, Ferdinand could have easily been another Corvonian sitting across from him. It was very intriguing - and also very exciting! Plagarius could not help but wonder whether other humans would seem just as familiar as Mr. Valentine was turning out to be.

He was just about to respond to Ferdinand - to comment on their shared need to apologize, as well as point out that he himself could ramble on and on as well if the psychologist let him - when the bell took that moment to let out its shrill call. Even with the closed door - muffling much of the sound - had Plagarius been out of disguise, his feathers no doubt would have poofed up in his surprise. As it was, his human disguise concealed this particular reaction, though it did nothing to hide his slight jump in response to the sound. Smoothing back his hair - an instinctual reaction which normally served to smooth down his feathers - Corbin began, in a somewhat shocked tone, "Oh my! Has it really been that long? I do apologize for keeping you, my good man." He stood from his seat, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he continued. "It seems I have been distracting us from our respective duties. Oh, do tell me I haven't kept you from some important business!" he implored. "That would be most unseemly of me!"


((OOC: Well... I'm back. After what, five years? In all seriousness though, I apologize for my absence (how many times have you guys heard that?) and I'd like to say that I'm glad to be back!
So we're finally getting to switching classes! Yay! 'Bout time! X3
@Cynder09: I just thought of something. Since Plagarius and Vuxta are supposed to be married, are they wearing rings? Or is that an Earth custom that they're not familiar with? If they are familiar with it, I doubt Plagarius would actually wear his (because he's always wearing medical gloves and a ring just doesn't seem like something a doctor/nurse should wear). I just wanted your opinion on this, since it's a little detail that hasn't been addressed yet. :3))

Ardunayne was pleased to finally hear the crisp ringing of the bell, to think that this painstaking period of silence was ending. She knew it meant that another would come soon, but at the very least, it was a golden opportunity to speak with a couple of very specific classmates, confirm if they were who she was thinking they might have been. That had been the only through crossing her mind the entire encounter, hardly a moment to focus on class. Her eyes fell to the small male immediately, as he was the one she was most immediately interested in. She quickly gathered up what few things she had brought with her, shoving the paper she had been drawing on into a book. She would likely discard the paper later, for it was all just casual drawings - nothing sensitive to be found there.

She swiftly approached the male before he could even rise from his seat, eager to have a word with him. She placed a hand strongly against his table, tossing a cheeky smile his way in hopes that he would note it.

~~~

Cryktin was less startled by the bell ringing that simply not expecting of the noise at this moment. To his mind, it hadn't felt like that much time had passed, but he hardly understood passage of time anyways. While other students could look upon a clock, he simply had to wait. It wasn't much of a bother, and if anything, the bell was a relieving sound to hear. He lifted his head, twitching it slightly to the side for little reason. This simply meant that he could be off to a different class, and hopefully at that a more pleasant one.

He kept still for a moment as he listened to the screeching of chairs upon the floor, students making haste to flee the classroom while others seemed to linger for a few moments. He simply didn't like the idea of getting up while so many people were moving about, afraid he might bump into a student he was unfortunately unaware of. He didn't mind waiting long as it kept him from embarrassing himself. So instead, he waited until the screeching of chairs was mostly over before climbing to his feet.

~~~

Ferdinand had a less obvious reaction to the ringing of the school bell. He was used to the sound, having heard it many, many times in his life. When the bell rang - thankfully at least having given him a chance to finish speaking rather than cutting him off as it was so fond of doing - he merely lifted his head, glancing towards the doorway for a moment. It felt nice to know that he had managed to hold a conversation with Corbin for that long, that he had enjoyed his time with the nurse so greatly that the conversation had quintessentially spanned an entire class worth of length. He felt satisfied within, glad to have had the time to speak for so long with such a polite and friendly individual.

With a shake of the head, Ferdinand hummed, "Don't fret at all. If you had been holding me back, I would have politely asked you to leave. As it is, I had plenty of free time at the moment anyways. My job isn't on a strict schedule. I arrive when I'm needed and I enjoy my free time when I'm not." He smiled a little. "I was more worried about having kept you, so it seems we both have similar concerns. Time can pass so quickly when you're in the presence of a good friend, or even simply a friendly person."

If anything, Ferdinand was more shocked that he had gone so long without being needed. He was used to the idea of students often being sent his way, no matter what school he might have worked at. Perhaps this was a more peaceful place, or maybe the students were just too tired to do anything quirky yet. Regardless, his services had not yet been called upon.

((OOC: Ooh! Welcome back! I was about to check on you to make sure you hadn't been captured by aliens. We understand fully that you had to be gone for a while and patiently waited for your return. It's nice to think we'll have the ball rolling once again! I was so looking forward to this.))

When the bell rung, Dax sprung to life. He jumped up from his seat and raced for the door as if it were the last day of school. He was out of room so quickly that he completely forgot about the broken ruler pieces he had picked up earlier. It didn't matter to him now, though. For the time being, he was free from math class and that dreaded teacher.

As Dax strolled down the hallway, it occurred to him that he didn't know what his next class even was. He began rifling through his jacket to find his schedule. "Hey, wait, what the hell? Where's my--oh, wait, my pants!" He checked his back pocket and found a folded up piece of paper. He chuckled as he pulled it out and began unfolding it. "Now, let's see, I have--it's upside down." He flipped it over and checked his next class. "Oh, Boremandy!" He grinned. "Great, now I can finally sleep." He yawned as he folded it back up and put it away.

The boy seemed to have forgotten that Rachel was just in his class as he lazily dragged his feet through the hallway. While Dax seemed awake enough before, he was quickly back to a zombie-like state as he made his way through the crowd. He showed no reaction or concern for occasionally bumping into people, he would just continue on as if nothing happened.



With no hesitation, Syndral closed out of her game and put her phone away. She gathered up her things and was about to get out of her seat, when the supposed female agent approached. Granted, she had more so approached Morph, but it still caused Syndral to pause. She raised an eyebrow as she stared at this female. She certainly seemed to be the bold type, didn't she? She had no issues with making the first move, and would likely have no issues with socialization. Syndral sighed quietly. Great, another agent better suited for this job than she was.

Syndral was about to rise from her seat, when Izvi flew over to her. The fly circled her until she held out her hand, and then it landed. She gave a small smile. Her bugbot had done its job well, but now was time for it to rest. Izvi gave a quiet buzz and then flew to the pocket of her hoodie and crawled inside.

~~~

ooc: Great to have you back! It's fine, you gotta do what you gotta do. And now we can continue after years of being in the same class. xD
Hmm. I could see Vuxta at least knowing about that, or she looked it up for the sake of their disguises. She'd want their marriage to seem legit. Yeah, I doubt Plagarius would actually wear his, but Vuxta probably would. A ring wouldn't conflict with her job, and she probably knows more about human marriages anyway.

While he was waiting for class to be over, Mort sneaked glances at the drawing Ardunayne was preoccupying herself with. He recognized the subject instantly once the details became clear enough. Cats were creatures he'd deeply familiarized himself with while he was researching before the school year began. They were an important part of human culture, so it seemed, and his group were liable to encounter them very frequently. He had taken it upon himself to learn as much as he could about them. More than he was willing to admit.

The bell tore him from his thoughts. "Finally," Mort groaned, taking hold of his book bag and swinging his legs to the side of his chair. A hand grasping hard on the desktop distracted him from standing up. He stared directly into her eyes for a few meaningful moments, glancing once at the particular smile she was giving him, before heaving a weighted sigh and leaning his side against the seat.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," he began bluntly, sporting a very bored expression.


OOC: Only three times. Not too many. But hey, at least it's been longer than 24 hours in the RP now.

Ardunayne almost purred in amusement at the greeting she had been given, for it was so familiar it almost stung. It was those very words, the tone they were spoken in and the dull expression that accompanied them, that practically gave him away. She knew that greeting anywhere, the very straightforward greeting - there was almost sarcasm in the comment too.

"Well, darling, it's a pleasure to see you too," she hummed in response, internally pleased to note a familiar face - in a manner of speaking, anyways. It was unlikely anyone would question her immediate familiarity with another student if they were listening. After all, to her knowledge children could choose to go to multiple schools within a lifetime based on where they lived, and given he was just as much of a new face as she was, it wouldn't be difficult to surmise that they must've known one another in a different school. It was a comfortable, valid excuse that she was certainly glad to have. "I was hoping I'd bump into anyone I knew personally, and it seems my wish was granted earlier than expected. How have you been doing?" There was an amused purr nearly echoing in her tone, a notion she could never quite dismiss.

Mr. White did lift his eyes when Jax made his hasty retreat out of the classroom, but he made no move to correct his behavior. Instead, he simply filed away the new pieces of information in his head. How convenient it was for the boy to seemingly come alive when nothing was expected of him, yet assume a death-like state when presented with actual work to do. If he had been smart, Jax would have at least kept up his barely conscious façade until he was out of the teacher's line of sight. Instead, he tossed away any semblance of fatigue the moment he wasn't in danger of anything else being assigned to him. Elim wasn't sure if this was just bad acting on the boy's part, or if Jax was actually subtly taunting him, essentially telling him, You can't do anything to me now, I'm beyond your reach once your class is over. Perhaps he was giving him too much credit. Jax probably didn't even realize that he'd broken his tired front, sending a clear message to Elim that this was just his method of classwork evasion. Not that it really needed clarification. It was painfully obvious that this particular student would do anything to avoid actually doing his work. This would be a battle of will between the two of them.

He would have time to ponder it later. For now, he had another class to prepare for. So once the room was finally empty, Mr. White finally slid off the desk he had sat perched on and scooted it back in its proper place before returning to his own desk at the front of the room.


Normally when Rachel strode through the hallways, it was with an air of passive optimism; not terribly blatant, but instead a calm sense of contentedness. Now, however, she trudged down the hallways almost the way Jax did, the burden of frustration and discomfort brought on by the events during math class weighing down her movements so that they were sluggish and seemingly almost tired. Her facial expression was also quite far from her small, barely noticeable smile. In its place was not quite a scowl, but if one bothered to take a second glance at her, they'd definitely be able to tell she wasn't in the best mood.

Had she been in any other mood, she might have sought out Shane or Diane to see how they were doing, but she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to do so. It was probably for the best. The way she was feeling, she was more liable to grumble or even snap at someone than offer any pleasant conversation. That wouldn't be fair to them, and Rachel didn't particularly like taking out her frustrations on other people, especially people she rather liked. So instead of looking for a familiar face, she merely busied herself rummaging through her locker, hoping that she'd at least have some time to calm her nerves before someone happened to bump into her.


At Ferdinand's words, Corbin sighed in relief. "I am glad to hear that I wasn't holding you up," he said. Humming contemplatively, he added, "It would seem that we share the same situation. My role as the school nurse almost entirely depends on the children themselves rather than any sort of timetable. I've no doubt that once the school year progresses, I will start taking part in certain science classes regarding health. But for the time being, I am simply here to aid anyone unfortunate enough to need medical assistance." Tilting his head in a very bird-like way, as if to regard the psychologist at a different angle, he continued, "Until then, it would seem that the two of us have a considerable amount of time on our hands."

He stayed silent for a few moments - obviously thinking, for there are very few reasons why the Corvonian would opt to stay quiet instead of speak up - before saying, "I have a proposal, if you would care to hear it?"