Don't Mind Me [open]

[Ms. Noelle Aspara]

Studying furiously--that was the student body's job around here, however, with only a few more days before her first class, Ms. Aspara was cramming to make sure her lesson plans were finished and coherent; she did not want to be thrown off by disorganized notes or a misplaced bullet list. Although she'd been preparing for the last three months, Noelle was certain she was forgetting something; she had three large binders in front of her, two notebooks, and five neat stacks of books in front of her. Tucked under the bottom of the far right stack was the newest issue of 'Modern Health' magazine: Noelle's reward for herself once she finished checking over her work.

Keeping her posture tall and straight, Noelle would swiftly reach across the table, pick up a book, flip through the marked pages in it, look at her notes, check something off, and set the book down in a new stack. She was halfway through her second stack of history books when she softly exclaimed "Aha!" In one of her notebooks there was a lengthy passage she had planned on quoting that she had completely forgotten to put in her bibliography, or mark as someone else's work at all. She shook her head and smirked at her own mistake. 'Guess I'd just looked at it so many times it hadn't even registered!' she thought, glad that she had caught her mistake before she presented the lesson. What if she had decided to use part of the passage in a test question? How would her students have studied if she had forgotten to tell them which book she'd found it in? 'Yeah, because all of your students are going to be so eager to prepare for your tests, huh?' she rolled her eyes. Okay, so the chances of it actually being a problem were fairly slim, but she was very particular about knowing herself that everything the students might need would be available to them should they ask for it.

She took a deep breath, satisfied now that she had found the problem. . .and then her OCD kicked in. 'But what if you made the same mistake somewhere else? What if there's another reference you've forgotten to give the information to?' Noelle groaned. Why couldn't that stupid, picky, snipey voice in her head just shut up! She took another deep breath, this one heavy and weary as she reached for the next book and began matching up the tags in the book with all her notes and charts and lists. All clear; did she really need to check every reference? She sighed; yes, yes she did. Her brain would be agitated and unsatisfied until she knew for certain that absolutely everything would be ready for her first class. With one more deep breath and a big over-the-head stretch, Noelle got back to work. Book-flip-flip-flip, notebook-check-check-check, book-flip-flip-flip, binder-check-mark-check, and so on. . .

'Don't mind me,' she thought grudgingly, 'Just sitting here going stir crazy, but no; don't worry. It's cool. I hear those white coats at the asylum are really quite comfy. Snug.' She internally giggled at the pathetic pun, but externally remained completely focused on the task at hand. Book, notebook, check, binder, mark, set aside, new book. . . 'But just think, Nell, of how glad your class will be that you aren't fumbling with your notes and wasting their time getting organized. You can just get right into the lesson, right to the point, and send them on their way!' Again Noelle rolled her eyes at her own thoughts, 'Yeah, they're going to be so impressed with my preparation, and I'm going to win the lottery and take a tour of Timbuktu with a gigantic lime green penguin for my guide.'

[Logan Fairfax]

Wearing this, jacket on and black eye patch

Click, click, click, tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. Silence. Beep!

Logan looked up from the computer, a smile of triumph on her face. Updates were complete; the computer could now connect to the digital card catalogue Logan had set up. Praise should be ensuing… Unfortunately, the person she had expected to be standing across the desk from her was not there. “Flick?” Logan turned her head, searching for the librarian. As usual, she was no where to be found. Logan sighed, muttering a curse at the airhead under her breath.

“Thank you Logan, this will help the students and me save time and energy.” Logan continued muttering under her breath as she shut the computer down. She slid her laptop back into its bad and stood up from the desk. She scrawled a quick note to Flick and carefully taped it to the edge of the monitor. “I’ll probably be back here tomorrow so I can teach her how to use the damn thing…”

Logan decided to make a quick run through the library before heading out. Maybe she would find Flick under a pile of books…After a couple minutes and scaring three students who had been playing hide and seek, Logan gave up her search. She headed for the exit, scanning the room out of habit. She paused, watching a woman she didn’t recognize have a panic or productive attack. It was rather impressive watching the teacher, Logan assumed she was a teacher anyways, fly through her collected books, binders, and magazines. Logan leaned against the nearest bookshelf; something was nagging at the back of her mind.

Logan vaguely remembered the headmaster mentioning a couple new staff members had been hired. She also somewhat remembered being given a list of their names so she could make their user id’s, get them set up on the school network, then meet with the teachers to see if they had any specific needs or questions. Which she had done, right? Being the good network administrator that she was, Logan had of course done her job first rather than play video games or something juvenile like that. Right? For the life of her, Logan could not remember. “Shit…” Ah well, no time like the present to get started.

Logan unconsciously straightened her jacket. She pushed off from the bookshelf and spoke, “Please tell me you’re studying for a test or something and not working on your lesson plans.” Logan approached the table. “You’ll make some of the less organized teachers, like me, look bad.” She paused a couple steps away and offered the teacher a hand to shake if she so chose. “Logan Fairfax, network administrator slash computer teacher. I don’t think we’ve met…”

[Ms. Noelle Aspara]

Noelle was efficiently getting through her workload, an even rhythm and pattern flowing from the books through her body and right back out again fluidly. 'Way to go, Nell, you'll be prepared for your first day of class yet! And maybe you'll even getting all these obsessive voices out of your head long enough to teach coherently!' Noelle's mind kept her amused as she worked, which was good since so far she was having a bit of trouble making connections with her fellow faculty. 'Oh, well. It gives you more time to prepare and perfect!' the poor, calmly-frantic History teacher groaned at the words she had heard a million and a half times from her parents: Prepare and perfect, prepare and perfect--or paraphrased: Always be ready to be flawless. 'Can't you just shut up and let me work!' she mentally screamed at her own thoughts, which immediately all began laughing at her for arguing with herself so furiously. 'If I weren't more aware of my own insanity I'd think I was going crazy. . .', she thought, bitterly amused.

It was strangely, somehow appropriate though. Ever since the crash that claimed her husband and father, Noelle had become ever more increasingly aware of her own ticks and neurotic nuances: the way everything on her desk at every school and in every faculty housing room had to be arranged exactly the same way, the fact that she had to keep a travel pack of quick-dry no-streak cleaning wipes in every room she frequented and in the glove compartment of her car, the simply stated chaotic way her mind drove her to be such an intense perfectionist when all she'd wanted to do since she was eight was rebel. But it wasn't hard to find an article in any somewhat-reputable medical journal about her condition; trauma induced obsessive compulsive order. Not the most fascinating read, not really worth reading, in fact, but once Noelle had figured out why everything in her life suddenly felt so irrevocably out of place, she had quickly adjusted to her condition, merely accepting it and moving forward. She didn't particularly mind that doing so meant she would spend all afternoon double--and possibly triple--checking her notes, and journals, and pamphlets, and hand outs, and presentation material. It was simply a part of who she was now.

'Halfway through the last stack!' she thought with glee as she picked up the fourth book in the last pile of articles on the desk, but almost as soon as she picked it up she dropped it again out of surprise. With as engulfed in her own thoughts and processes as she had been, Noelle had almost forgotten where she was, and that she wasn't going to be getting her lesson plan ready for the rest of her life, much less so that there were other people in the world who actually went out of their way to socialize with others. The voice that was so clearly directed towards her quickly brought all of these facts to mind very quickly though, which brought a smile of relief to Miss Aspara's face. "Oh! Uh. . ." she faltered and let a subtle nervous chuckle escape her person. "Well, I would, but I'd be lying. Sorry; over achiever since second grade, apparently even unto my own teaching career," she shrugged semi-apologetically.

It took Noelle a couple of moments to fully process what her present companion looked like, because somehow, it didn't seem possible that anyone in real life could look so completely. . .ensembled was the only word Noelle could think of that fit it, but she wasn't even sure if "ensembled" was a real word or not. Hey, she was the History teacher, English was not her forte nor was it necessary to be. The black dressy pant suit, the equipment bag and. . .the eye patch? An unusual, unique item, but one that only further added to the impressive blond figure which stood before her. She looked like what would be the love interest straight out of a James Bond movie! "No, I don't think we have met. . ." she replied. "I'm Noelle Aspara, new to the History professeuse," she shook the outstretched hand of the technologically immaculate woman and said, "It's very nice to meet you, Logan," which, truly, it was. Noelle was really quite impressed; Logan had style efficiency nearly to rival her own; this was sure to be an acquainting to remember.

[Logan Fairfax]

“Over achieving…” Logan returned the handshake and flashed a sarcastic smile. “I think I remember how to do that. Its been a while though.” she released Noelle’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you Noelle.” Now that she was in a closer proximity, Logan quickly examined the new teacher. Noelle certainly wore the “business woman” air a little better than Logan did: hair cut short drew attention to the eyes, dressy attire without over doing it, polite and obviously dedicated demeanor; Logan liked the woman instantly.

“Nice to see I’m not the only female teacher here who appreciates pants suits. The rest tend towards dresses or…” Logan thought about how best to sum up Flick and Caterina’s tendency towards odd and obscure clothing. “…unique mixtures.” Not that Logan had a problem with that mind you. And given the very nature of the school, odd and obscure were the normal. Logan cast about, looking for a chair. Now that she had the teacher’s name, she could at least make sure Noelle was in the system. “Mind if I join you for a moment? If you don’t mind the interruption from your lesson plans,” Logan gestured to the stacks of books and binders, “I need to ask you one or two quick computer related questions.” She pulled a chair over and sat facing Noelle.

Logan pulled her laptop out of its bag and set it on her lap. The G71Gx Gaming Notebook was the second current love in Logan’s life; first, of course, being her custom built desktop with a 32 inch screen, 128 gigs of RAM, two terabyte hard drives and…er wait. The first love of her life was Iris, her daughter. The desktop tied for second though. Logan powered her laptop on, returning her gaze to Noelle. “Please excuse me for just one moment.” she said, typing her abhorrently long password in the process. Logan returned her gaze to the laptop screen, opening a remote connection to one of the Somnium servers. “Have you had a chance to log into the computer in your classroom? Or did anyone give you the handbook which details all the fun electronic related stuff you need to know to survive in Somnium’s digital world for that matter?”

Logan’s screen changed and she logged in again. Without using the mouse, Logan opened the shortcut to Active Directory and flipped through the user trees until she found the staff users. Her eye skimmed the right side of the window, searching for Noelle’s name, which was right where it was supposed to be: N_Aspara. Logan breathed a mental sigh of relief that she had at least created the new users. She opened the properties of the account and flipped through the various tabs, double checking the security and network settings. Check complete, Logan closed the window and opened another one with the email properties. She began double checking the settings as before. This time, though, a frown crossed her face; she had either been interrupted half way though creating Noelle’s account or the changes had gotten garbled in network lag. Either way, Logan needed to make some changes quickly. She began typing away, fingers flying across the keyboard. She raised her eye shifting her focus back to look at Noelle; Logan could enter these settings in her sleep and felt no need to be rude to the teacher while she did so.

[Ms. Noelle Aspara]

Chuckling amusedly, Noelle replied; "Yes, I've seen some of the more, um. . .'popular' styles on some of the other staff," she made a non-commital face that leaned itself towards glossing over some of her more choice comments on the matter. Noelle was not necessarily a feminist, per se, however, having been raised as strictly and orderly as she had been--plus her inability to really appreciate modern women's apparel--Noelle was a firm believer in function-over-fashion. Slacks were easy to move in, easy to clean, easy to wear; blouses were affordable and comfortable; blazers asserted an air of dominance and control in a room full of hyper-active, sleep-deprived teenagers, all of which were rather important to the ersatz-intimidating History teacher. It had taken her quite some time to find a balance between approachability, professionalism, and not wanting anyone to pity her old injuries--it was a lot to expect from a suit, but so far her wardrobe had performed marvelously for her.

Upon Logan's request to join her, Noelle nearly beamed, "I don't mind at all, please do in fact. I'm quite glad for the distraction from. . ." she flicked her wrist, gesturing gruffly at the fortress of literature, a grim expression on her face. "I swear, I have more homework myself than I could ever intend to assign or grade for any of my classes," she said, using her raised hand to rub her eyes, which were quite tired from all the reading she'd been doing. 'Ah, business related question-answer!' she thought with a smile as Logan produced her laptop and proceeded to query her knowledge of the school's electronic database. "Modern technology and I have a love-hate relationship. I love it, it hates me. I can barely Google without getting a computer virus or a page of websites that have nothing to do with the topic I search for."

The little voice in the back of Noelle's head was trying to push it's way forward to point out that she was not yet finished with--and thus, not yet prepared to deliver--her first lesson plan, but her high-society upbringing managed to quiet it: 'It's rude to ignore a new colleague, especially one who's trying to complete an objective with you. Once I'm absolutely, positively certain she doesn't need anything else from me, I can finish the lesson plan. But at the same time, I can't be rude and just chase her off. Best just to set aside the work; there are only four books left to go through, and how long could that take? I can finish that right before class if I need to. Nothing to worry about.' The pesky little voice tutted at her in frustration, but finally gave in and became silent about her lesson plan. 'Thank heaven. . .' she thought, pleased that she actually managed to pause her obsessiveness long enough to hold a conversation with someone other than her mother.

Now that she was free of her compulsive perfectionist mindset (for a while anyway), Noelle was much more relaxed--well, within the confines of 'proper behaviour for a professional woman' in any case. It was rather fascinating to watch Logan's hands move so flawlessly, fluidly across her keyboard, like second nature. 'No wonder she's the network administrator,' Noelle mused internally. Logan didn't even seem to be paying attention to her computer as she continued talking, like a patterned, practiced routine that was now so precise it didn't require a second thought, 'Amazing.' "Pretty much I got the 'Welcome to Somnium' slash 'When you go to sleep you might turn into a flying electric eel in a dream universe' letter, and moved here immediately. I guess I may have skipped over the technical support information a little," Noelle laughed softly, and a slightly nervously. It was just a little strange to talk about alternate realities with an electronic mastermind like Logan.

[Logan Fairfax]

First name: Noelle; Last name: Aspara; Contact name: Noelle Aspara; Title: History Teacher. Switch to email tab. Domain: somnium; Exchange Server: Check; Exchange Server Host: quiesco; Password required: Check.

Logan smiled at Noelle’s love-hate relationship with technology. “Trust me, you’re not the only staff member here with that view toward modern technology. At least you have a grasp slash love for technology. There was a math teacher here when I first started who refused to even touch her computer…God, she was a nightmare to deal with.” Logan had actually thrown a celebration at the Weeping Goat the night she heard the teacher was retiring. “Should you ever need help with anything computer related, please feel free to give me a shout. I’m on call twenty-four seven…” Logan gave a sly smile and a shrug which seemed to convey ‘Well, I’m supposed to be anyways….’

Password: synchronize with login password; Password never expires: Check; Switch to next tab. Check, check, skip, check, check. Apply. Logan gave Noelle an apologetic smile, “Excuse me for one moment.” She returned her focus back to the laptop screen. The next task was to set up the login scripts. This way, when Noelle logged into any computer on campus, she would have access to her files, network drives, email, and what not. She minimized the window and brought up another one which displayed all of the school login scripts. Logan’s eye ran up and down the window, finally resting on the correct script. She copied the name and returned to the active directory window. She was turning to the appropriate tab when Noelle mentioned the Dream World.

Logan froze, fingers coming to a halt just above her keyboard. She blinked and coughed, attempting to cover up the pause. She finished putting the script name in the correct location and closed the window. Logan returned her attention to Noelle, giving the woman a quick chuckle. “Now I’m wondering if any of us actually becomes a flying electric eel in the other world. God knows it’d be one of the more mundane dream forms out there.” Talking about the Dream World made Logan a little nervous. Arachne 2.0 wasn’t exactly something Logan liked to talk about with people she didn’t know. Or with anyone for that matter. After all, if your dream form was a giant half woman, half black widow spider that fed on anything with a pulse (and preferably still beating heart at the time) what did that say about you as a person. Granted, Logan could always play up the information network she had created in the dream world instead. Spiders in the dream world, much like in the real world, were everywhere. Arachne had become the go to person for information on any subject, provided you didn’t mind the risks associated with asking for her help.

“Have you entered the Dream World yet? Its always fascinating to hear first impressions.” Logan laughed, remembering her first real dream. “I thought the headmaster was just playing pranks when I read the warning. Little did I know…” Arachne had been in full control so all she could do was sit back and watch the carnage ensue. Three deaths, fifteen injuries, and one unruly mob later, Logan had woken up covered in sweat, veins pumping with adrenaline. It had taken her almost a month to gain control of Arachne. “Five years later and I’m still finding new places to explore in the other world. It’s a wonderful, albeit different, escape from…” Logan waved a hand around, indicating Noelle’s work, the library, the students, and life in general, “this.”

[Ms. Noelle Aspara]

Noelle caught Miss Fairfax's side look that seemed to convey 'On-call-when-I'm-not-doing-more-interesting-things', which Noelle couldn't help but grin at. A job that required you to be on duty all the time to a bunch of irrational teenagers with your contact numbers, Noelle could imagine turning off her pager every now and again if she were in Logan's shoes. "Well, I don't doubt you'll get at least a couple calls from me about files disappearing or icons opening up wrong programs or not knowing where my mouse pointer has gone. . .I really do have terrible luck with technology," she could actually remember the day at her last school when all three things happened in one day. She was trying to teach a class on the rise of Napoleon, and she was trying to show some slides she had found on his campaign in Italy, but when she went to her desktop the shortcut had vanished. Luckily she had saved it in another menu, but when she accessed that and opened up the file, it pulled up the next semesters notes on Greek and Roman gods. Finally she had to give up and teach the class the boring old way, but when she went back to the technology station later, the little arrow on the screen was gone! She had since suspected foul play from one of the mischief makers in her class, but having already been propositioned by Somnium, it had not been worth the effort to pursue retribution upon the child.

Waiting patiently for Logan to finish her the next series of code inputs, or leet entries or. . .whatever technological wizardry it was, Noelle's mind drifted back to her lesson plan for a moment. Quickly shutting down those thoughts, however, Noelle determined she would have one conversation without her mini-me workaholic popping into her head! It was difficult arguing with herself like this, one part of her desperately wanting order and calm and organization, lists and charts and compartmentalization, the other part of her wanting freedom and recklessness and chaos!! Her organized half always won. Even when she let loose, or abandoned her work for a moment, like now, there was no chance of her running out to the nearest bar, jumping up on a table and dancing to techno music (which is what her reckless side was screaming for); No, Noelle still remained calm and orderly, prim and proper, just like she was supposed to be.

When Logan spoke next, her comment somehow surprised Noelle. "Really? Mundane?" when she had thought of it, it had sounded beyond ridiculous: a flying eel! Surely that was crazy! Then again, she was at a boarding school that had a close connection to an alternate reality, surely "crazy" had left the building about a month ago.

Noelle listened, intrigued, to Logan's quick little blurb about the Dream World. Noelle smiled, "It sounds amazing," and it did! Noelle was beyond thrilled at the idea. "No. . .I mean, I guess it's pretty clear that I haven't been yet. Is it true there are other people. . .er, things. . .is things right? Beings! That's the word: Beings; are there really beings that actually live there all the time?" Noelle was excited about the Dream World, but also kind of nervous. She had gotten the information packet about it, but it was kind of vague, probably in case the information had gotten to the wrong person. In any case, Noelle didn't want to be caught completely unawares when she finally entered the Dream World. Not knowing what she was going to turn into when she got there was scary enough! What if she turned into a giant malibu barbie, or a sea monkey, or a wheelchair? It was just a little nerve-racking to the overly self disciplined and organized professor. If it reflected her, she might turn into a giant pain pill for all she knew, or a walking History text book, or. . . any number of other uncomfortable and possibly painful shapes. But none the less, this was one of those once-in-a-lifetime sort of experiences that sent thrills through every inch of Noelle's brain, and the excitement was the most apparent emotion displayed on Noelle's subdued features.

[Logan Fairfax]

“Amazing is one way of putting it.” Logan laughed. “And yes, there are things, beings which live there all the time. The implications are fascinating, aren’t they?” Seclusion aside, Logan had chosen to call The Mists home because they offered the quickest access to other worlds. “What makes things even more fun is that some of the student’s dream forms believe they live there full time too. Be careful when trying to determine which is which, though. Some Dream Beings get snarky when you question their reality.” Logan could think of one right off the top of her head who would kill you for questioning her.

“My advice, first time you get to the Dream World, stick to The Village of Demens, the Fourth Square, or The Castle of Demens, Fifth Square. Those squares are a little friendlier to the uninitiated.” Logan paused, thinking how best to phrase her next statements. “Its not all fun and games, though. Keep in mind that, much like our world, the Dream World can be a dangerous place. We can die there, and I’ve heard its rather unpleasant. There are also dream forms and Beings who go out of their way to hunt people from our world down. In particular, don’t let the siren, Lexi, find out you’re not a dream being, should you ever meet. And if you meet any foxes, or beings with fox tails, wake yourself up quick.”

Logan tapped her chin absently, wondering if she had anymore overwhelming advice to add to the pile. “Also, stay away from the Mists if you can avoid it. Or at least bring someone with you the first time. The Mists can be…confusing to say the least.” Logan glanced back down at her laptop. A confirmation message had appeared, stating that Noelle’s user ID was ready for usage. Logan logged off, turning the laptop so it was facing the other teacher. She eyed the desk, decided it would be unwise to attempt to balance her precious laptop on the stack of items, and scooted her chair closer to Noelle’s instead. Logan tapped the login window lightly with a fingernail.

“Sorry to digress, but could you please log in for me? Your user name is your first initial, an underscore, then your full last name. Your password is ‘xyz123’ in lowercase letters. That’s the maintenance password by the way, so you might want to remember it.” Networking duties out of the way again for the moment, Logan’s thoughts returned to the Dream World. She thought about all the different dream forms and Beings she had encountered or knew about secondhand. She had been working on compiling a who’s who of the Dream World just in case. It was important for Logan to be able to tell the difference between dream forms and Beings; dream forms could always come back to life after being killed so they were better prey.

“Going back to the Dream World,” Logan was always great at transitioning conversations, “Keep an eye out for griffons. There are at least two out there, a large black one and a smaller grayish brown one; they are both teachers. The black one is Kyle, the school nurse. He can usually be found hanging around the ocean. If you ask nicely, and your dream form isn’t too big, I’m sure he’d be happy to give you a fly by tour of the world. ”

[Benjamin Giovanni]

Benjamin had been wondering around most of the day trying to get to know the lay of the land so to speak. He had looked at his watch and noticed that it was 8:15 PM. It was time for him to begin his nightly reading, he always began to read at 8:15. Benjamin was a creature of habit and figured that the structure was the only thing that began to keep him in the sane part of the world. At times he even questioned that about himself. Though He had begun to see a doctor, he was sure that it was nothing serious his mother tends to over react to any situation that happens to appear.

He was slowly and with a deeper tone speaking the worlds to a play, he tried to hide his Italian accent, but yet it still came through at parts:

"If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more;
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical."

He had realized that he wasn't the only one in the library just before he was about to trip as he turned and did a dramatic exit stage left. He held his hand over his face and slowly it melted down his face as his face changed back to the regular expressions. He stayed there silently with his head down and his shoulders slumped.

He looked over at Logan and then over to Noelle. He moved up to them both and smiled a pearly white smile. His looked first at Logan as she was the closest. His soft Italian accent was seeping through "Please forgive me, I apologize for the interruption. I had thought that the school would have been at the carnival." he nodded and let out a nervous chuckle.

He moved over towards the Ms. Aspara. "Please forgive my intrusion. It was rude of me to interrupt; I hadn't seen either of you there." he said his Italian accent and smiled at her as well. He nodded and bowed his head to Ms. Fairfax, "Please forgive me Ms. Fairfax. " He turned towards Ms. Aspara. "Also, please accept my apologies Ms. Aspara. " he had a sort of charm about him, a sort of confidence that most students didn't; actually he acted more like a teacher than some of the teachers.

He began to slowly move towards the way he came; he wished to exit. He didn't wish to be a burden upon either of them his first day here. He was looking forward to perhaps meeting them, but now just didn't seem like the correct time. He was also very rude the way he entered. His shirt was slightly UN-tucked and a few buttons undone at the top as he had been walking around for quite sometime. It appears as though he was going through a play for sometime. He was sure that this was going to make him the talk of the school, but it's nothing he hadn't already been through.

He looked up at each of them again, a smile of his pearly whites and continued back wards.


(I hope you don't mind me doing a slow intro such as this)