TAFFC: Que Sera Sera

IC:

"I'll help!"

A hand at the back of the Psionics group shot up frantically, desperately. The student it belonged to was sitting as far away from everyone else as possible, looking everywhere but the teacher, as if looking at her directly would lead to some kind of horrible punishment. And seeing as his luck was the worst it had been in weeks, he rather suspected it might.

"She probably needs a tour or a map or an explanation or a bus ticked out of here or directions to where she can make funeral arrangements because this place is insane." The student rattled on hurriedly, trying to concoct an excuse to get out as soon as possible.

Experience had long since taught him that with his luck, having a female teacher was a really, really bad idea. And he had been saddled with Psionics. He needed to spend as little time in this classroom as possible so that bitch karma couldn't put him through humiliation and pain at the hands of the clearly tsundere teacher.

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed his backpack and bolted for the door. Please don't trip please don't trip please don't trip-

As if by magic, one of the other students, in their rush to turn and try to get out of his path before something horrible happened, knocked their textbook away, right in front of his foot.

Moments later. Abraham Smith had tripped, and was hurtling through the air at unfortunate speeds toward the student standing awkwardly nearby. The same student he had offered to help.

Fuck my life.

IC: Blaze had no idea about Abraham's luck.

The other teen's face slammed into her chest, knocking them both down and the wind out of her, dropping backwards onto the floor.

End result?

Abraham's face was on her chest, the rest of him sprawled on the rest of her.

Of all the days to wear a tank top...

"Look, date me first."

IC:

It took less than a second between impact and comment for Abraham to realize what had occurred. A half second more to react. With speed born of practice no person should have to endure, he pushed off of the ground, rolling to the side with his arms shielding his head from potential retribution. A solid two get away, he stopped, glancing back to check for incoming kicks or other forms of you punishment. Noting none, he slowly took his arms away from his head.

"I'm really sorry, please don't kill me, I like living."

IC: Blaze hopped up, flipping to see who had laughed.

Was that... Sparks on her fingertips?

And saw him.

And they disappeared.

She shut her mouth and looked back at Abraham.

"You tripped. I don't kill for that."

IC:

"I would love to say that you are the first person to take the phrase "Don't kill me" literally," The teenager slowly stood, brushing himself off. "But I would be lying. Threats against my life are the most common reaction to my luck."

"I really am sorry."

OOC:

The Fourteenth Doctor wrote: 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: "Alright, Phoebe," Naara started with another smirk. "I know it may be hard for you to understand, but this class is supposed to be for students of remarkable mental aptitude, unlike y-"

Then a male tripped. And fell. Into Phoebe's chest.

"...Okay, screw that. Abraham, kindly extricate your whiny mouth from its present location by Phoebe's assets and shut it. Phoebe, consider this piece of proverbial wisdom distinctly without relation to my earlier utterance: give a bitch a faceful of cleavage and he'll be happy for a day; give a bitch a faceful of insults and he'll amuse you for the rest of his life. That said, students, let's get back in our seats and behave. Wouldn't want to have to be punished for disrupting class, would we?

"...Yet."

IC: He looked up from his brainstorming of different variations of external plating.

He turned to candidly gaze at Desde, his green eyes saying it all.

"Wot?"

IC: Megan

Another bubble exploded into pink nothingness with a force comparable to a gunshot.

IC: "Can't say I have. Doesn't seem to be someone wanting me yapping down their ear anyway. Strikes me as the "just leave me be pls" type, y'know?" he said with a shrug.

IC: Work of his own finished, he passed the calculator over to Desde along with his notes. Plugging in his earbuds, he began to softly play the unexpectedly beautiful OST of Asura's Wrath, folding his arms and just resting his head a bit.

At least, that's what he intended. Soon enough, the effects of a late night caught up with him, and his back steadily rose and fell as he dozed.

IC:

"..."

"And she says I'm the bitch."

IC:

Megan glanced up, her icy eyes traveling partway around the room before fixing themselves on Desdemona and Maglod, before, violating whatever was said about her being mute, she said, "What?"