TAFFC: Que Sera Sera

IC: Jolek rolled his eyes. "You can't just go running around trying to beat up teachers just because you don't like them." he said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Which it kind of was, but he digressed. He knew better than to point that out by now with Dor.

"In any case, here's your stuff." he said, holding out the prettyboy's belongings.

IC: Jolek blinked. Holding up a slip of paper, he very candidly said "Just grab a pass from the nurse, dude."

Rolling his shoulders, he turned to the door himself. "I'm off to Pre-Calc. See you in Alchemy. And I swear to god, if you let Desde take my seat again, I will throw you at her." he said half-jokingly, exiting the room and strolling down the hall even as the warning bell chimed.

IC: He gazed down at the pretty, if "emo" young lady in his seat. In a completely "too used to this" tone of voice, he said one thing in response.

"The shit I put up with, Desde."

IC: Most people have no fucking idea how difficult it is to be Shiarra sometimes. Although her quiet, reserved behavior in public warrants that she should be neglected away from unwanted attention by people she doesn't like, there are two major reasons why this does not happen, each of which has had an internet site dedicated purely to stalking it - yes, separately, because, rumor among the male portion of the school had it, it would've been a direct risk to the part of the brain dealing with excessive amounts of arousal to stalk Shiarra as a whole and not just a certain part of her, er, personality. Certain aspects of her personality, to be exact, that had a physical form and it was very, very round.

There was also a person into whose face she would've gladly rubbed said aspects of her personality. Shiarra was quite aware of the level of libido that she and Maglod had pent up for each other, yet the two repeatedly kept friendzoning each other as if both were afraid that them starting a relationship together would end with them being simply incapable of doing anything other than repeatedly shagging each other. It didn't seem likely they'd start such a relationship any time soon.

So naturally, the universe had to do its best to poke her in the face with all that desire she had for such a relationship. Physical exercise class, with her and Maglod. The half-elf was doing a somersault, and coincidentally a supposed "friend" of Shiarra's thought it funny to push her at that exact moment, to be exact, in the trajectory of Maglod's somersault.

The two collided, falling to the ground, Shiarra's husky perfume invading Maglod's senses as he suddenly found his face buried between the breasts of the girl - no, not girl. Woman.

He only realized that he should scream in supposed alarm a few minutes later as he gently, but also harshly at the same time pushed the elven girl off him, although about ninety nine percent of his mind at the time wanted to do an entirely different thing.

Plot, Maglod thought. Plot everywhere.

IC: Blaze sighed and ruffled the back of her blonde hair as she walked through the hall, unintentionally messing it up for the fifteenth time. First day in a new school. Transferred, after the entire promise thing had gone wrong.

Note to self. Promises are not made lightly.

In retrospect, saying that she'd burn down the gym if one more person tried to break into her locker was a mistake.

IC: Jol shrugged. "Doubt it. I've hit him harder. With pads and stuff, granted, but he's a tough kid."

"Now would you please get out of my desk?" he asked, the slightest edge of irritation creeping into his voice. Six feet of disgruntled Jolek was not something most people would like to be loomed over by, but, one must remember, this is Desdemona.

IC: Grabbing the now-vacant seat behind him, the least pretty of the Junior year's power trio fairly plopped down into it, books and all.

"Seriously still getting shit?" he asked, with a mild tone of disbelief, taking out two sheets of paper and sliding one over.

"You'd think people'd have grown up a bit." he said, perhaps a bit indiscreetly.

IC: And psionics was the other way.

Blaze dropped into a run, getting to class about two minutes after the bell rang.

Way to make a first impression.

IC: The figure standing before the Psionics class stunned. Around it students lay in various states of discombobulation, shaking heads, dropping jaws, and even pinching themselves as they tried to wrap their heads around the teacher's existence--for it was a teacher, as confirmed by both the schedule and a nametag complete with a lazy scrawl of a signature. In spite of this evidence, however, the majority of the class was wont to argue against its status as a teacher based on three simple facts:

1. The figure was a teenager;

2. The figure was wearing short shorts in defiance of the dress code;

and 3. The figure was a hot-as-hell female.

The figure smirked at the startled faces and muttered denials before beginning to speak, watching as students reluctantly fell silent.

"Welcome to Psionics class," She said. "My name is Naara Jones, and as you may be able to tell, I'm your age."

A timid wolf whistle briefly rang out across the field, then was abruptly silenced. Its issuer's mouth snapped shut and its eyes were forced from its gaze at Jones' cleavage to her eyes. She did not stop speaking or look in the direction of the offending miscreant.

"This is because I've done more with my life in just a sixteen year span than all of you can do in an eighty year span."

All others disturbing the speech fell silent.

"I'm a major in whoopass, with minors in slutshaming and education."

The class simultaneously corrected its numerous slouches and stands to create a collective sitting with backs ramrod straight.

Naara smirked again. "Any questions?"

IC: Naara gave Dorian the once-over and shrugged. "Can't go wrong with proverbial wisdom."

Much eyebrow-raising was had.

"Practice makes perfect."

IC: (Blaze)

"Sorry for interrupting, but... Could I get a little explanation of what this is? 90% sure my old school didn't have a psionics class."

IC:

"And God, is he perfect..." someone mumbled dreamily. One copper eyebrow raised at that but didn't look for the source of the mutter; his gaze was still trained on the teacher, testing her.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know why anyone who spent four years of this place would, well...come back. Especially to try and teach her own age group when she should realize how futile and contradictory such a task is."

IC:

"It's alright, Jolek. I'm plenty used to it. Like you said, the shit we put up with. Got a calculator handy?"

IC: "Yeah," he said, placing the Ti-84 Plus ~Silver Edition~ between them. "Miss anything?" he asked, pulling out his trusty formula sheet.

IC: Blaze

"Ummmm."

Finally, someone looked over at the new arrival and whistled lowly. "Seriously. Could one of you two help me?"

IC: As the notes continued to be taken, there was, of course, a slight bit of deviation as certain concepts needed to be gone over. As such, the martial artist found himself idly sketching out a Swiss Longsword, and beside it the "skeleton" of a cybernetic hand.

IC: "What? Nah..." he said with a low chuckle. "The sword's just there because sword. The hand is more something I'm kind of interested in. Dunno if I'll make a career out of it, but..."

He laughs awkwardly, finishing off a finger joint. "Kinda hard to not have some interest after dad... y'know, lost the arm."

A pause. "And okay, I'll admit. Seeing the cybernetics move with lifelike fluidity and stuff in Metal Gear Rising also contributed to it a little."