Time to meet the staff -Open-

[Elege Eternum]

Elege stepped in to the staff room, having seen no signs that said he couldn’t smoke… Or perhaps not caring about the rules as much as he did about his addiction. Having his slim cigar in hand, exhaling a big whiff the moment he stepped in. “Hey!” He said without looking around to see if anyone was truly there. He did not see anyone, perhaps everyone was busy working at the moment. He looked around one more time and kicked up his feet on to the desk, flicking his slim cigar dropping the ash on the floor. A smile appeared on his lips as he looked around, enjoying the smooth comfort of the staff room.

“I wonder what the other teachers are like” He figured they were probably nothing like him though, seeing as he was a bit of a lazy bum, even though he would refer to himself as a philosophical mind whom believed that at certain times the mind had to be reserved for more important matters.. Like kicking back and relaxing. He flicked his ash again and put the slim cigar out under his flip flops, the stench of smoking still remaining in his vicinity.

Fantasizing about the future he could see himself as a PE teacher. Elege was one that looked for the easy life and he figured that as a P.E. teacher that would be easy, though it might prove interesting to encounter teens such as Frankie. Well it should prove to be interesting anyway. He stretched heavily and closed his eyes for a minute, taking a pencil from the desk and chewing on the back of it… Bad habbits like that came to be after he started smoking. Which had proven to be interesting, he was never long without something in his mouth. (In a non perverted manner)

His eyes gazed over the ceiling, scanning every little detail before once again lingering on the door, obviously wondering when someone would hop in. Though seeing as there was a computer on the desk, rather crappy but functional he figured he’d check around on the internet.

Internet games, a perfect source of amusement to spend those obviously boring days, or at least moments. “Come on Teachers.. Show me some presence.

[Kyle Ehrlich]

Kyle was bored out of his mind. He had slept the night before, so that option was out for at least another 36 hours. There had been no injuries or illnesses in the past day so the infirmary was empty. He had updated his dream world map, watered his garden, and even returned his books to the library.

After having a laugh about how boring he was, Kyle decided to head to the staff room. He wasn’t really looking to have a conversation but perhaps the other teachers would be there and he could hover. And if no one was there, well…there was always someone down at the pub.

Kyle pushed open the door and paused. He was slightly puzzled by the smell of cigar smoke. It didn’t really bother him, it was just unexpected. To his disappointment, the room appeared to be empty. Then his gaze fell on the computer. A teacher Kyle didn’t recognize sat there, playing games. Kyle heard rumors of some new staff being hired but had yet to meet any of them.

Kyle entered the room, eyes drawn to the game rather than the person playing. He loved games: card games, video games, board games, drinking games, you name it. Kyle put on a curious half-smile and approached the teacher, “What are you playing?”

[Elege Eternum]

His gaze didn't look away from the computer screen as someone else entered, it seemed to be a pretty amusing game judging from the smirk on Elege his face. The question that the other staff member asked piqued his interest. "It's a game where you have to develop a virus to destroy every living being on the planet, it's very amusing." He paused the game and finally looked up to Kyle.

"I'm Elege, the new Phys-Ed teacher in this place." He said before taking a deep whiff of his slim cigar. filtering the smoke through his lungs and blowing it up in the air. Elege was in a pretty relaxed position, having his feet up and the keyboard on his lap, playing the game like he was in his own living room.

"All the other teachers are busy i'm sure." He didn't really think about the position that Kyle might be filling, figuring from his coat that he might perhaps be a science teacher or something of the sort.

He looked back to the screen and unpaused it, shortly after revealing a big -GAME OVER- screen on the monitor, following by a loud thud of frustration from Elege. "Bloody nonsense, couldn't infect hawaii because they closed everything up. And never open it up again, my virus died."

[Kyle Ehrlich]

“Huh, sounds interesting.” Kyle watched Elege play the game. When it abruptly ended, Kyle chuckled. ”You need to start at the weird, isolated, out of the way places like Hawaii or Australia. From there, move on to a heavily populated area or city, Shanghai, New York, London etc.” Kyle waved a hand in the air indicating the computer screen. ”The virus will spread through those and the surrounding countries like wildfire. You win.”

Curiosity piqued, Kyle now wanted to try playing the game. He glanced at the web site, memorizing the address for later. “I’m Kyle by the way. School nurse.” Kyle cast his gaze around the staff room. “Actually, its somewhat odd that more staff aren’t here. Wonder where they are…”

And now Kyle was out of conversation ideas, wonderful. This was exactly why he wanted to hover and not actually talk to anyone. “So you’re the P.E. teacher? I suppose I should thank you for keeping me busy then.” Kyle gave Elege a sarcastic smile. “Its either kids faking illnesses to get out of your class or kids showing up with scrapes, bruises, and complaints about exhaustion,”

[Elege Eternum]

He got a little frustrated with the game and tried again… To Elege his dismay, Kyle had been completely correct, starting in Australia he quickly spread throughout the world and the game was won without too much effort. That… Ass was right His thoughts were only hostile because of his own inability to see that. “Umm thanks for that…” He said half heartedly, showing his displeasure with the fact that he was not right.

“School nurse huh? I had figured you for the school surgeon, good thing you don’t wear mini skirts” He said rather blatantly, with a slight chuckle, though his intonation did not betray any hostility with that comment. “Well it’s good to meet you too, but I am going to set up a fun program. P.E. should be fun, all that unnecessary running circles and forced acrobatics is such a dull thing. But with my program I guess you are right… Might be quite a few cuts and bruises, wanna be my assistant so you don’t have to let them walk all the way to your office?” He said with a sly smile.

He sat back and forcefully shut down the computer using the power button. He obviously had little qualms about being brash with people and equipment alike. Elege seemed to be quite relaxed in his position thought. “So, when does the rest get here, I’ll probably need to get a little idea of the place before I go to work, not that I mind waiting and not working… But I might as well work, seeing as I’m here.

[Lawrence Grimmel]

Lawrence had never been good with mornings. They always left him bleary eyed and sleep deprived and he surely wasn’t as productive in the morning as he was at night. With a white porcelain cup in one hand, he plodded sleepily down the hallways and corridors, the soft leather loafers on his feet making a flapping sound against the floor. He had sprung for a more formal choice in clothing today, due to the fact that he had heard mentions of new staff members being introduced into the staff. Black dress slacks hung loose on the man’s slender hips and a thick blue t-shirt stuck to his body, but mostly because he also had a charcoal gray vest with tiny black pinstripes on. He despised wearing so much clothing only because he knew when he got back to the art classroom, he’d have to change everything to avoid getting paint on it. Most of his formal clothing had already been ruined by spurts of inspiration and a lack of impulse control.

As he approached the staff room, he put his back to it, opening it backwards in order to not dirty his coffee cup. With his other arm, he rubbed at the sleep still stuck in his eyes. Approaching the coffee pot, only to find that it was empty, he flicked the switch on to hear the familiar sound of water draining through the electronic parts. It was only after he turned that he realized there were other teachers already in the room. A bit sheepishly he raised his coffee cup toward the two men whose conversation he had most likely interrupted. “Good morning,” he stated, his voice a little more subdued than usual.

[Paris Musuko]

Two more minutes and that would be his usual arrival to the staff's lair. As usual, his hair was ruddy and out of place, standing up in every which way as he ran his hand over it to flatten it. The bags under his eyes were spared by his delicate features, but still noticeable. As usual, he had a fitful, and short, sleep. Paris despised coffee, but he hated mornings, too. If he had been proactive, he would have made a petition to have classes start at noon instead of ... whatever time they started at. Later than now, he supposed. His full lips pursed at the door and he sneezed, the smell of smoke tickling and irritating his nose.

"... Who.. who is smoking in... side?" He muttered, but the words were too light to be heard by anyone but himself in his grumbling irritation. He opened the door and stepped through, his baby face often mistaken for a student's on first impression. His loose blazer and tie matched his uneven button line and his half-tucked shirt, his jeans an interesting addition to the full ensemble. His bright blue eyes lit on the guy with the cigar in his mouth.

".... Welcome... to... Somnium." He said the words with a bit of hesitation, as if he wasn't sure if he should be saying them rather than 'What the hell is wrong with you?' or 'What are you doing in here?'

[Metella Pope]

Metella walked into the staffroom, looking for some fresh air to clear her mind, and walked into a room full of smoke. "Oh Meus Deus a incendia?" She shook her head, she was still in latin mode. She ran throught the words in Italian then finally switched to English. "Is there a fire in here?" She moved a strand of hair from her face one that was covering a man... smoking. "Who smokes inside?" she wondered, but she walked past the men, she was the only woman in the room as usual. Her cup was shoved under the coffee maker and pushed the button. She smiled at the smell that covered the smoke.

She was in a daze all of a sudden, she was wondering why you would smoke inside. Where they trying to start a fire? SHe suddenly felt a burning sensation on her hand. "vomica! DAng it!" The coffee was running over her hand, she wanted to scream, but she couldn't for shame. She took her cup away and shook her hand. The drops of still hot coffee landed on the nearest teacher, and she gasped. "Sorry!"

(Next to post as there charrie burned by hot coffee!)

[Paris Musuko]

Splash. The cup, pulled up quickly, spilled some of its contents into the rug beneath the Latin teacher's feet as she quickly struggled to change hands with the burning container. Paris could have seen ten different ways that the situation could have worked out better for both of them even as the excess sprayed from her quick movements and fell on his shirt, slipping beneath the buttons and scorching the skin red.

He took a deep breath and hissed out a soft exclamation of pain, "... Ow." Looking at Matella, he sighed and shook his head. He had just been thinking how the combination of smells in here were bound to make him sick, and now he'd be working smelling like one of his least favorite scents in the world...

He reached a hand into his pocket and pulled from it a kerchief, holding it out to the Latin teacher. Just like all the staff here that he'd worked with for the past year or so, he wasn't very familiar with her and had to search for her name in the back of his mind, "Ms.... Pope. Use this." He sighed and began to grab a bunch of napkins with his other hand, dabbing himself dry... but there was nothing to be done about that stain on his white shirt.

[Lawrence Grimmel]

The small room was filling up continually as more teachers came in before starting morning classes. It was an alternating day, so Lawrence had already begun thinking about his lesson plan for his art class. Today, he wouldn’t select a word to put on the board, but a medium for all of his students to experiment in. The art teacher had already decided that the entire class would get a bucket of plaster of paris this morning and by the end of the day would be covered in the drying results of white slop. They would then be able to leave their creations in their original ivory or had the choice to paint them as they saw fit. He was smiling happily, settled into the cushions of a buttery leather chair when the unintentional confrontation between Pope and Musuko happened, people with familiar faces but, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember their first names. The knowledge of that fact made him feel a bit ashamed and taking a big swig of his own heavily creamed, but bitter, coffee, he began to dig around in the pockets of his vest.

Lawrence stood, grasping a thin marker in his hand. The outer wrapping was a bright, jaunty red and blue plastic creation and it had a remarkably red cap. He extended it, a bit too dramatically toward Paris, like a knight brandishing a sword. “Tide-to-Go.” The man said the words purposefully, with a stately air. Sometimes he wondered if the little creations he had shipped over from America were so important to him because of his slight aficionado tendencies toward American commercial things and if that mild obsession was unhealthy. Surely he would have been able to find Tide-to-Go pens in supermarkets in England, but somehow, knowing it had come from Florida made him a little happy on the inside. It seemed that everyone in the room had a bit more tension in them than usual, perhaps it was the introduction of new staff making everyone on edge. Or, Lawrence pondered, was it that the other professors simply didn’t like mornings as much as he didn’t like the early hours.

“Ms. Pope,” Lawrence said warmly, knowing that the Latin teacher could have been a little on edge after spilling coffee on the solemn Mr. Musuko, “Did you burn yourself badly?” He had always had a tender spot for women, especially lovely women, and it tended to show in circumstances like these. It wasn’t as if he was trying to hit on her, no, Lawrence would never be so bold as to do something like that, and respected women a little bit too much to think of them in that way immediately. It seemed that even though he had been here for two years, he hadn’t made a friendship-like relationship with any of the teachers here, but maintained instead a professional, arm-length distance relationship with everyone. The art teacher bit his lip, trying to figure out what to do with his hands awkwardly before shoving them into his pockets.

[Metella Pope]

Metella was majorly embaressed, and she accpeted the kerchief with great thanks. "I'm very sorry Mr. Musuko, very, very sorry." Her hands released the cup to the counter, and they then flittered around her waist. "I'm fine Mr. Grimmel, and once again Mr. Musuko, I'm very sorry."

Once again she picked up the coffee, wincing as she egged herself not to drop it. She took a sip, and then frowned. after all the hub bub, the coffee had lost it's taste to her.

[Caterina Aurora]

I

[/color][/font]t was a very timid morning. The sky was a mustard blue and the bright flora and fauna seemed to blossom as the minutes passed away. Her eyes looked heavy down upon the sidewalk cement and made way toward the large building. She stopped only a moment to look at a patch of rare flowers that she had only seen several times before and continued easily on her way.

After a few doors opened, a few students passed and a couple of morning greetings, Caterina finally achieved her destination for the beginning to her day -- the staff room. The woman held an empty black thermos in her hand and a briefcase in the other. Smoothing out her white collared button down shirt and making sure it was tucked nicely into her tight knee-length skirt before she entered, Caterina grasped the golden handle and turned it swiftly.

Slightly struggling to open the door, the woman stepped foot inside with a clack of her black high-heeled shoes and was abruptly startled by the amount of people that had been already inside. She smiled lightly in the direction of the many and set her things down onto the nearest table. Her light eyes scanned over several of them - not recognizing a couple and shamelessly continued over to the coffee pot with her empty mug in the grasp of her hands. The rich liquid poured easily into the cup as the steam bellowed out into the colder air.

Satisfied, she turned and leaned against the counter. Caterina took a sip, sighed pleasantly and looked to her nearest coworker. "Good Morning."
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[Lawrence Grimmel]

“Good morning Ms. Aurora,” Lawrence replied pleasantly, glad that someone in the room wasn’t angry about coffee getting spilled on them. It seemed as if most of the teachers at Somnium Academy simply weren’t morning people with the exception of Caterina. Somehow, while everyone else was flailing around and being grumpy, the Fine Arts teacher breezed through the door looking put-together and calm. Lawrence had to admit that he was a bit envious and a bit amazed at the same time. Then again, most beautiful women had that sweet confidence and impeccable preparation for anything unless we were speaking about Ms. Pope. Beautiful… But a bit clumsy.

“I was thinking that possibly this year we could each do a cameo in each others’ classes – perhaps your children would like to see the creation of the masterpieces they study and mine would like to know exactly where they’re going in the future?” Lawrence knew that Caterina taught Fine Arts and had seen her host quite a few masterful classes. He appreciated the way she spoke about the history of art and very sincerely would like his students, especially Ms. Visatta, to see where their art could take them. In addition to that, Lawrence, unlike many artists, tended to like to show off his talent and creation process. Somehow, it felt as if the moment added to the overall feeling of the piece.

[Paris Musuko]

"Don't worry about it, Ms. Pope. Accidents.. they happen," He forced a smile, though it looked unnatural. Paris took the pen gratefully and started to apply it to his shirt. The coffee slowly lifted, though the man obviously was a bit unsteady with the darn pen and read the directions three or four times to make sure he was doing it right. When Miss Aurora moved into the room and toward the coffee machine, Paris took the opportunity to put some distance between him and it before another accident might happen.

His blue eyes scanned the room a second time and he managed to find a seat over near the left corner, a bit far away from everyone. He was pleased to be able to assess the rest of the room without being too close to them--after all, bumps and knock-downs and those things aside, there wasn't much he had to look forward to in a crowd of people, but he had thought this an opportunity to make.. someone feel welcome, though the man seemed to be feeling like a computer game at this point.

[Caterina Aurora]

H

[/color][/font]er eyes scanned over Lawrence for a minute, taking in the brief morning hello. Paris seemed to give her a small but notable glance and offed his way into the corner. Her eyes only removed themselves from Lawrence once as she half paid attention to herself pouring the dark ebony liquid. It was impolite to not look at a person while they were speaking to you - that's how her father had raised her.

Basic etiquette - it was actually something a lot of people she knew lacked.

The woman nodded a few times, adjusting the yellow colored clip that bobbed loosely in her hair. She liked the way Lawrence thought sometimes - but that was only to be expected. Two art teachers of different curriculums never really strayed from the basic idea of having an open mind and heart. It didn't come as a surprise to her that the two of them got along so fashionably; after all, it was almost expected. Completing her hairpiece into the properly fit way, she grabbed hold of her cup and nodded once again. "I would love to. Of course, if you don't mind." She took a long sip of her coffee and glanced out the window. "I'm sure the students would think it something different as well. I believe that they'd appreciate it."
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[Ms. Noelle Aspara]

Oh the staff room, that far and distant mystery; at least, that's what it had seemed like when Noelle had gone to school. Always the one door in the building that seemed to have a force field surrounding it. As a student she had run errands for her professors, walked back and forth from classrooms to staff lounges, but something had always seemed sacrilegious about looking inside. Now, however, it was common practice for her to frequent the always small, slightly dingy rooms that were classic to the idea of staff rooms. None the less, it always felt somewhat magical to her when she walked into a new teachers lounge for the first time.

Adjusting her mat gray suit jacket with practiced precision as she walked, Noelle readied herself for meeting the faculty. She paused at the door, smoothed her hair and skirt, then walked in. A slim smile appeared on her face as she entered; there seemed to be three fellow professors crowding the coffee maker, two hovering over the sole computer in the room, and one sitting in a corner working on getting a stain out of his shirt with one of those bleach pens. The room smelled pungently of cigar smoke and coffee. That wasn't particularly unusual for a teacher's lounge. . .except for how strong the coffee smell was. She looked around, then saw a pile of used, now-brown napkins on a counter. "Looks like I missed all the excitement," she said, lackadaisically retrieving the napkins and throwing them in a trash bin.

Noelle looked calculatingly around the room from where she stood, taking a better look at all the occupants within it. None of them were familiar to her at all. That might have have bothered her more, except that this was the third school she'd been transferred to since receiving her teaching certificate two years ago. Although she was almost desperate to make a good impression on her fellow teachers, she was now a pro at pretending she fit in by acting like she didn't care about her job and that she'd rather be anywhere but here.

She huffed aloofly, walked over to the less occupied side of the room where the sink stood and washed off the dripping coffee residue on her hands. A look of confusion crossed her face as she realized there were no paper towels beside the sink, but she quickly realized there must be hand towels in a drawer under the sink. It took only a moment for Noelle to find them; sure enough, the second drawer held a variety of striped hand towels, one of which she immediately put to use, drying her own hands, and wiping off any spare droplets of water or coffee that had landed on the sink counter. She breathed a content sigh, then turned and leaned against the counter, glad to know that there was now no chance of her suit getting anything on it.

[Lawrence Grimmel]

Lawrence glanced up toward the clock on the wall and realized that they still had some time before classes would begin. He wondered exactly why he had woken up early, but remembered the reason as an unfamiliar face entered the room. The early wake up time was solely for the newer staff members that hadn’t been introduced to the older staff. It was an awkward transition time for everyone but Lawrence was quite pleased to notice that so many lovely women now fluttered around the staff room – it had been filled with too much testosterone earlier that morning. His eyes were focused on the lady in front of him who seemed to have a particular way of keeping his eyes focused on hers, though truthfully, it made him a little nervous that he might mess up with what he was saying or start to laugh awkwardly with no reason for doing so. “I’m sure they’ll all enjoy it. Would you like to double up sometime next week?”

The art teacher once again caught a glance of a professionally dressed woman across the room that had seemingly singled herself out. He couldn’t recall ever seeing her face and felt that with all the hubbub in the room, he should certainly introduce himself so that she wouldn’t continue to be singled out. Lawrence sincerely believed in group unity, though he wasn’t sure if many of the other teachers did. He found his coffee cup empty when he turned back to it and hatched a small plan. “Excuse me for a moment Ms. Aurora, I’m going to go rinse this out.”

The lanky teacher strode across the room in a few steps and stopped in front of the sink and in front of the unfamiliar woman as well. “I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Lawrence Grimmel.” The man set his cup on the counter and extended one of his soft, artist’s hands toward the new teacher. “I teach art.” His slight Italian accent tinted his words as he spoke and waited for the new face in the stark suit to speak. For some reason, in his vest and slacks he felt underdressed when compared to her.

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[Ms. Noelle Aspara]

Unsure of how this whole 'meeting the staff' thing was supposed to be going, Noelle began folding and unfolding and refolding the hand towel to pass the time. 'Ah, stage work,' the theatrical phrase popped into her head. How many times had she been placed at the back of a scene, waiting for her cue, and folded laundry to make the audience think she had a purpose being there. The old idiom was true: Life is a stage. These simplistic analogies made her smile as she continued slowly toying with the cloth in her hands, at least until she noticed another teacher walking over, then she quickly finished folding up the towel and set it behind herself on the counter.

It took Noelle a moment to process what the lithe, composed man had said as he introduced himself, for it seemed far too ironic to be true--but lo and behold, the dashing art teacher did in fact have an Italian accent to complete his breezy and unfussed demeanor. Did all upper schooling art teachers have accents, or just the ones she encountered. 'If a paintbrush falls in a classroom and no ones around does it make a sound?' Noelle mentally slapped herself, 'No more fortune cookies before the first day of class anymore!'

"I'm Noelle Aspara," she replied as she shook his hand. "I've just taken over the History class," for some reason phrasing it that way made her feel like an ancient Roman warrior; 'I have taken over!' She pictured a huge Colosseum with lions pacing the pit, and a hundred graduate students in tweed suits and Greek battle armor, with briefcases in one hand and spears in the other, but she tried not to allow her daydreams of battling hundreds of other History teachers to get the position teaching here to become evident in her voice as she introduced herself. "How long have you been teaching here?" she asked, hoping to keep the conversation moving along so there weren't any awkward silent moments. She had dealt with enough of those to last a lifetime and was hoping that by now her small-talk skills had improved.