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Post by shades on Sept 14, 2016 10:47:42 GMT -5
just a place where me and kurai are rping. feel free to come chat and fun stuff.
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Post by shades on Sept 14, 2016 11:21:05 GMT -5
i get in a good couple of paragraphs myself mostly; starters tend to be longer. especially if i'm trying to feel my way through a character and just going 'okay this is how i want to write them' way. (which i'm trying to decide on my new character or if i wanna go a safe route through an old one, but i really really like my new lil nugget).
also you can decide on what your teacher teaches and such. and unless you have a specific geographical location in mind, i can just do 'yeah this school in this random city in this random state of the united states' when i type up something.
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Bisexual
Kurai
I can't answer why... I'm a blackstar...★
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Post by Kurai on Sept 14, 2016 12:22:40 GMT -5
Sorry had to go get dinner sorted. Back now though. I don't have a specific location in mind, anywhere works fine for my girl. Thinking she might be an English teacher, bit of a book worm
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Post by shades on Sept 14, 2016 12:35:50 GMT -5
oki doki. i'm balancing homework and stuff. But I'll get a starter up before my 3 oclock
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Post by shades on Sept 14, 2016 12:48:03 GMT -5
oh and what is the name of the young lady? and a brief description?
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Post by shades on Sept 14, 2016 16:14:19 GMT -5
i'm so out of practice with roleplaying. i'm sorry. i'll get back into the groove of it.
Wednesday, Saturday 14th. Room 131.
Today is a Wednesday. It wasn’t like he had any particular sort of disdain for Wednesday, in fact it was one of his proudest moments learning how to spell it when he was seven years old; from there it was only a matter of continuing his education and pushing it forward towards the younger generation. He graduated on a Wednesday, a hot summer in June while proudly displaying his diploma that would carry him forward in life. His family members standing around him with smiles on their faces, knowing that their son/brother/nephew was going to be successful. However, everything particularly tended to go wrong on Wednesday. Perhaps it was because his least favorite group of students came in more rowdy than usual on this day, or maybe it was because the day was jinxed for him that made it a horrible mess of forgetting things, tripping, and other inexplicable oddities.
Let’s begin with the teaching position at Brookvale High School in a small town of the same name that just so happened to be twenty minutes from Fairfax, Virginia where he attended George Mason University for Psychology for six years. For one, Thaddeus Michalski had no intention of being a Psychology teacher at a high school, let alone a basic Algebra and Statistics teacher. Two, he definitely did not think he would be distracted in his ‘one year’ teaching stint at a local high school by a girl. And three, he never realized how much public school teenagers were the worst.
However, he is now thankful for that quiet personality when growing up. He is not thankful that it has pressed forward through life to the point where teaching suddenly became a whole new social experiment that tested his patience, attitude, and whether or not it was true that teachers had more tendencies to be alcoholics than other careers.
It was a Wednesday though, and as the third week of school began to roll through and the weather remained nice; there was a certain anxiety for the class to be over before it already begun and for the students to be able to go outside and eat lunch while the weather wasn’t nasty and Mrs. Fritz the lunch monitor was out for medical reasons. Yet they were stuck inside with a thin interest in the social science of Psychology as Mr. Michalski (to them) began his continuing lecture on consciousness.
Students tended to listen to him, maybe it was the thin wave of authority he presented between the once-in-a-while stutter and hand motions. Or it was possibly the female population aptly hooking onto every word, as he read about in some articles about teaching that prevailed to the attractiveness of a teacher and the attention of the class. There was no official study for the suggested correlation, but as every Psychologist knows “correlation does not equal causation.”
He was an attractive man, with a baby face that almost made even himself doubt his actual age and dark eyes that reflected the bad LEDs of the rooms and the sun. Dark curly tresses would often be left a mess as constant fingers ran through them in times of extreme stress, questioning, and just plain boredom, he would lecture and occasionally do problems to effectively make sure his students were learning the material.
This Wednesday was the worst of Wednesdays. As they finished up the lecture on the main material, Thaddeus had decided to allow some trivia time and showing off some simple ‘experiments’ that proved basic aspects of human nature. Of course most of the questions were the basic “attempting to snoop into your teacher’s personal life while you have a moment.” But Thaddeus did not relent, instead moving onto a basic experiment that involved the entire class standing up and him walking around with a paperclip and Hershey’s Kiss in his hand offering them each the paperclip and candy in turn (sometimes changing it up to offer the candy and then the paper clip).
Halfway through the bell rang and the students began to rush to their desks to retrieve their things to go to lunch; leaving a small crowd as Thaddeus attempted to shout at them. “Remember to have your brains labeled by Friday, we’ll be going over them in class and from there doing a small review activity before our brain test on Monday!” He was picking up some scattered papers that fell from his desk to the floor, flustered and in a hurry to make it to the breakroom to grab his lunch; Thaddeus did not realize he was blindly walking into the empty hallway without recognition of his surroundings, running into a figure that would cause him to mutter a curse under his breath and once again lose the papers in his hands.
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Bisexual
Kurai
I can't answer why... I'm a blackstar...★
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Post by Kurai on Sept 14, 2016 17:13:04 GMT -5
It was unusual this late in the year for the weather to be quite so wonderful, the day had a warmth to it that had the pleasantness of the approaching fall and lacked the summer's oppressive heat. Tricked by the warmth the tree beyond her window was in its second bloom of the year, bright in shades of pale pinks through to crimson. She had thrown the window closest to her desk wide open and the fragrant scent of the blossom was accompanied by the busy hum of worker bees, hurrying to collect as much nectar as possible from this surprising late year treat.
School had been in session for only three weeks and already the vibrant enthusiasm most students returned from summer with had begun to wear off. Each lesson seemed to drag on and they were already dreaming of their next break. She hoped her classes were a small light in the monotony of their days, they at least made a good display of enjoying themselves but much like any other class as soon as the bell rang they still rushed to grab their things and hurry to continue with their days.
A Wednesday was one of her favourite days. She got to teach her favourite class, an astute young group with a surprising capacity for literature. Not only that but the food in the cafeteria was actually bearable, she bought a packed lunch most of the time but a Wednesday was the only day she wouldn't mind if she forgot to bring it. This Wednesday was turning out like most others, peaceful. Her students had their eyes on their work, she allowed them to talk quietly amongst themselves when doing these small assignments but they rarely chose to, opting instead to focus on the literature and choose their words carefully. They had learned already in the three weeks that she had taught them just hos stringent she was when it came to reviewing and marking their work, often bordering on harsh.
It was all for their own good of course, but it did mean they gave even her most basic assignments their full attention. She perched lightly on ledge by the window, the soft breeze tugged at her copper red hair, chin turned up slightly to enjoy the sunlight that dappled through the sweet scented blossom. The bell rang, the noise disturbing the otherwise perfect silence. It was then that the chatter started, papers stuffed in to bags and their finished assignments placed on her desk.
"Remember your reading homework, I expect at least another four chapters by next class." She rose from her perch, straightening the hastily placed papers into a neat stack. Her desk was always impeccably neat, no space in her life for disorder. Already students were filing outside, the sound of laughter filtering in through the window. Gathering her things she stepped in to the corridor, shutting the room behind her. Not that she didn't trust people more out of habit. No sooner had she turned to continue towards her destination than her armful of books were knocked from her grasp. She squeaked in surprise, stumbling a little but managing to keep her balance.
She expected to see a group of students, they were always running carefree through the halls, not caring who they knocked in to. So it was a surprise when her eyes landed upon another teacher. "Are you ok?" She said, collecting her books quickly, checking subtly that they weren't damaged.
(Yeah I'm really out of practice too.)
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Post by shades on Sept 14, 2016 22:17:38 GMT -5
Thaddeus Michalski
Dark brown eyes looked up at gentle emeralds, causing Thaddeus to straighten out to his full height of six feet. He clutched his papers in his arms, staring at the other teacher. “Um, yeah. Sorry. Just a lot of papers to grade.” He had more to do than just grading papers; everything on the world seemed to be crashing onto him by all the schoolwork. Thaddeus Michalski did not want to just be a teacher. In fact, being a teacher in high school was not his plan. It was forced upon him by a job offer to be a teacher at Brookvale High School and the combining pressure of his family to take the job to make money. Honestly, Thaddeus wished he had taken the library position instead.
“I’m uh, new here. Mr. Michalski—I mean Thaddeus.” Shifting some papers, he offered his hand while observing the young lady before him. His eyes watched her shifting posture ever so slightly, and the way she held herself with confidence. Obviously, despite their closeness in age, she had been teaching far longer than him. Then again, she probably didn’t do to school for six years to get a doctorate. “I’m new here.” Wait, he said that already.
“And to teaching, really. I’m just a teacher with the ability to teach math and psychology with online credentials because Brookvale paid for all my clearances in order for me to teach as a temporary job while Jeffrey Morrow is on sabbatical. However, I’ve already modified his age-old outline for Statistics and introduced a more modern methodology for computing stats, plus his algebra outline was a bit eh. I mostly felt like bringing the finance chapter forward more, because from what I heard he hardly got to finances—” His mouth snapped shut, thin pink lips quirking into a shy smile.
“Sorry, I’m rambling.” He apologized.
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Bisexual
Kurai
I can't answer why... I'm a blackstar...★
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Post by Kurai on Sept 15, 2016 15:14:54 GMT -5
Her eyes flicked quickly over him, once she had finished making sure her books were unharmed by the unexpected encounter of course. She hadn't seen him about before, which his rambling commentary quickly explained. From his posture she quickly gauged his inexperience, she had been teaching for a few years already although it hadn't been her first career choice.
He talked a lot. She couldn't help but smile in response, taking the proffered hand in to her own gentle grip. She listened to his rapid rambling, her lips quirked in a half smile that made her eyes sparkle brightly. She wondered what someone who was obviously so well educated had done to end up teaching here. Brookvale High School was not the worst school you could end up teaching in, no there were many worse places, where even the youngest students had criminal records or substance addictions. No this was a reasonably good school in comparison, although not the place she expected to find someone with his education.
Waiting until she had finished she gave a light chuckle, her plump lips quirking upwards. "No need to apologize. Brinnshana Drossel, But please call me Brinn." She hated her full name, but his own name was a bit of a mouthful too. She wondered briefly what possessed a parent to give their children such inconvenient names. She doubted with his no nonsense statistical approach he would think much of her role. Teacher of whimsy, not many carried her appreciation of poetry and literature. Teaching students to read between the lines of what was written, to interpret in their own individual ways.
For once she was actually reluctant to admit her job, something she was never reluctant to do. "Professor Morrow, is very set in his ways. A new look on the subject is perhaps a good idea. You must be a very promising teacher for the school to have paid to have you here, I am sure the students are grateful in their own ways." She released his hand, neatening the stack of books she held somewhat awkwardly with one arm, student papers her personal, heavily annotated copy of Shakespeare's greatest works around which her prospectus for this term revolved. " I teach English, nothing quite so exciting as Psychology."
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