Serj Castlereagh
Trainee
[M:0]
His sanguine spirit turns every firefly into a star
Posts: 98
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Post by Serj Castlereagh on Jun 26, 2008 14:33:07 GMT -8
OOC: If you weren't invited, pleeeease don't post!
A black Lincoln would roll into the Teacher’s parking lot, very out of place considering the school’s history. The windows were heavily tinted, exuding an aura of mystery around the car. It wasn’t the strangeness of the expensive car in a parking lot in PHS; it was the people within.
Serj stepped out of the driver’s side, his slicked black hair shining the same way as the car. His baleful eyes flicked over the school grounds, absorbing everything in a short space of time. The eerily complacent smile on his face stretched a little, his pale skin was a violent contrast to his hair. Though he paid the sun no mind as he shut the door and moved to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for his companion. “This is the place” he would say cheerfully, extending a hand to help her out of the car. He was already starting to appear less gaunt. He picked up the sleeves of his coat and started to walk towards the school entrance. |
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Post by Mademoiselle Dieudonnee on Jun 26, 2008 14:34:06 GMT -8
As the door of the dark car opened, the sun washed over the inside of the expensive vehicle. The bright light bathed the dark African woman’s skin as her face turned to examine the parking lot, it was hard to tell the look in her eyes, but the curve of her mouth appeared to be disdainful. However, her expression changed like lightning when Serj offered his hand to her. Cheerfully accepting it, the woman pulled herself out of the car, using her free hand to dust off her skirt and shut the door behind her. The platinum blonde hair glowed white in the rays of light as her head turned to examine the other vehicles in the parking lot, a thick silence hanging from her until she scoffed. “Where the hell are we? The ghetto?” the woman turned away, mentally erasing the image of the cheaper cars and followed Serj towards the building.
Keeping a brisk pace, her even brisker chest bounced with each step. As the pair approached the entrance she would look around and sigh dismally. “Uhh… where’s the help around here? Do they keep them locked up until lunch?” she thought aloud before pushing the doors to step inside. Holding the door open for Serj, she took a moment to examine the school. After another moment of awkward silence, her jaw dropped “We’re working in the biggest shithole in California!?”.
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Post by Arim Urem'der on Jun 26, 2008 14:56:39 GMT -8
What a day it's been, Arim felt like she was going to pass out. "So much studying..." the girl mumbled under her breath, her eyes flicked around her textbook to memorize terms for tomorrow's quiz. You'd think less of her time went to her studies, but that was never the case. Arim woke up with the feeling of this being one of those tired out, bummer of a day... and it seemed like this was coming true.
Unbeknownst to the blonde girl, this was only the beginning....
Unfortunately, being so enamored in her studies drew attention away from where she was walking. Taking a few too many steps in the wrong direction, she met face-first into another person, knocking her off balance to send her toppling to the floor, her gargantuan tote-bag landing on the small of her back. "OW!" she yelped when it contacted, her hands placed on the ground to peel her body off the floor. Her eyes flicked to her textbook that had fallen into a puddle of fermenting, spilled chocolate milk on the floor. "Aaaw....." she girl moaned, picking up the book. She made a feeble attempt to dry off the liquid with little success, deciding to simply shut it instead, revealing the cover. Advanced Calculus, she hoped this would give her math grade a big boost .
Stepping up onto her feet, her eyes flicked to the tall, pale man she had walked into. Something about his expression and the way he carried himself made shivers crawl up her spine, someone who reminded her of something... "Hannibal Lector?" the girl thought to herself before shaking her head. NO! NOT NICE, ARIM! NOT NICE! You sound like Delilah.
Shaking her head furiously, she held her hand up and made a small bow. "I apologize! Really, I do! I wasn't looking where I was going, it was quite clumsy of me Please accept my sincerest apologies...".. |
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Tyr Odinson
QC 
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Post by Tyr Odinson on Jun 26, 2008 15:02:32 GMT -8
“We’re working in the biggest shithole in California!?”.
Andrew's eyes came up from the locker he had been standing at, the total lack of students showing that class had begun. Andrew had only just arrived, his first period being open and his only time of real relaxation, if you could call it that. He had been watching the news for any sign of the car dealers death, or any clues they might have to his disappearance, but nothing was shown, and for that he was glad. That fat bastard he worked for had kept his word. Now, standing at his locker and sorting through threats he had recieved from various students for rumors of him fighting the School captain, he stared at the two people who had just entered the building not far from him.
He shut the locker door, turning around and leaning his back up against the locker, a toothpick in his mouth. He had grown quite fond of having them there as of late, not because he thought them "cool" or "badass" but because it gave him something to chew on, something to do when in a situation such as this. His black shades showed nothing of the eyes underneath, which scanned over the two people, man and woman, making an estimate of theyre reason to be here. Teachers, by what she had just stated, and unhappy ones at that. They had obvious disdain for the lack of luxurious decor the school provided.
He realized, then, that being the only student in the hall he might be approached, but it didnt much matter to him. His black, long sleeved button up shirt had the arms rolled up to just above the elbow, his white jeans showing direct contrast to both that shirt and the black shoes he wore. He had left his guns in his car, since they werent allowed in school, and his leather jacket as his place since it was such a hot day.
He continued to look on at the two who entered, his face showing no sign of emotion, though his mind wondered about the soon-to-be introduction. He mentally smiled though, when the girl he had met the other day suddenly waltzed right into the pale man, rigorously apologizing.
'This should be interesting' he thought to himself.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 26, 2008 15:35:13 GMT -8
Bastille was on the roof. How she got there was another mystery. She however was there leaning over and staring brow raised a the new comers. The silver haired girl with bright blond bangs hunched over to get a better look then glared.
“so the scum of the higher society have come to 259…..I hate the rich.”
This of course was a highly hypocritical statement Bastille had just made as she was also quite wealthy in her upbringings and had also been raised to be more like the two new people. She however had hated being so creepy and intimidating and most of all hated nice cars unless it was a sports car that could be driven very very very fast. She let her teeth snap the toothpick and she let the remains drop to the ground just before she did.
She walked over to their car and raised a brow at it. Nice…but she didn’t like Lincolns…they weren’t as fast as they came. She turned heal walking in the gate behind them and having to stop as they did. She watched the other girl bump into them and rolled her eye easing past them with not a hint of acknowledgement. However she didn’t get too far till she found her own locker and opened it taking out her rapier and closing the locker again however only turned and leaned on it and also watching these new people.
She came up with a the silent resolution that, if they didn’t come near her, she wouldn’t kill them for simply being what they where. These of course where all assumptions. She didn’t even know if she was right yet.
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Post by Mademoiselle Dieudonnee on Jun 26, 2008 16:31:31 GMT -8
As soon as the blonde bumped into the pale man before her, a low hiss escaped her black lips and a roar of anger followed. "Watch where the fuck you're going! If I see you even glance at Serj the wrong way, I'll blow your head off your shoulders!" Obviously taking the accident the wrong way, Dieudonnee stepped closer to the girl, growling like the hell-hound she was.
However, this anger immediately redirect to anyone nearby, this being the girl with the unusual hair and the boy in sunglasses. "AND YOU, don't think I can't see you staring just because you're in
sunglasses. Think you're so cool because you have a toothpick in your mouth? It's a disgusting habit, just what I'd expect from students in this school". Seething, the dark woman turned her head towards the girl leaning on the lockers, she was obviously trying to be cool and nonchalant in her actions.
She disliked her already.
"And look at you, you think you're just HOT SHIT with that sword, don't you? Swordplay, huh? PLAYING IS FOR CHILDREN!", finishing her burst of fury at the two, her head turned back towards the blonde as she growled again before folding her arms over her (very ample) chest, glowering at the small girl through her platinum hair. |
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Serj Castlereagh
Trainee
[M:0]
His sanguine spirit turns every firefly into a star
Posts: 98
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Post by Serj Castlereagh on Jun 26, 2008 16:32:36 GMT -8
Serj sighed in a teasingly exasperated way at Dieudonnee's proclamation. "That's not very nice, Dieudonnee," He chided while smiling eerily, his tapered, over-white teeth flashing in the florescent light. "You're the last one to complain about working conditions. Why, you grew up in a Third Worl-"
The pale man was interrupted by a brief shove to his chest. The girl who bumped into him, Serj, who was far taller and weighed more than the girl, forced him to take a stumbling step back. He didn't have time to stoop to help up the girl, or stop his companion from exploding at her...or from using her excess rage on the other students. As she shouted, Serj had bent over a little and began coughing violently into his sleeve, his breath rattling in his chest as he tried to breathe in. Once Dieudonne finished her tirade, Serj straightened his back, 'ahem'ing softly as the passive smile returned to his overly pale face. His lips were a much brighter hue of red now.
He put a restrictive hand on Dieudonne's shoulder and smiled reassuringly at the blonde girl. "That's quite alright. I wasn't watching where I was going, you have nothing to worry about," he said, his smile changing to paternal in a blink of an eye. His eyes flickered around the hallway again. In addition to the girl who had bumped into him, there was a boy wearing sunglasses and a silver haired girl with a rapier. He smiled in an apologetic way. "I apologize for my friend here. She just worries about me, and with good reason. Honestly, I know I have hemophilia, but I can take care of myself, you know." He chortled, patting Dieudonnee fondly on the head.
The gaunt man looked back at the students and inclined his head. "Assuming you are students of the school, I'm pleased to make your acquaintances. I am Mr. Castlereagh, an addition to the supervision team here at 259...but you can call me Serj. This charming lady here," he gestured to the African American woman by his side. "Is Mademoiselle Dieudonnee Aiguelle, a new teacher here at the school." He turned and gave Bastille a friendly wink. "And I think the use of the sword is an under appreciated treasure. It reminds me of the Medieval Age and knights." [/center] |
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jun 26, 2008 16:59:14 GMT -8
Delilah herself would have been walking down the hallway at a relaxed pace, one that was better for her injuries. She was still having a hard time breathing, but she disregarded it for now. She needed to get to class before Rem noticed that she was out of bed and dragged her back home. She smiled awkwardly at the thought. The boy was so protective over her, though he didn't practice what he preached. As she made a brief stop at her locker, she heard a familiar voice apologizing.
"I apologize! Really, I do! I wasn't looking where I was going, it was quite clumsy of me Please accept my sincerest apologies..."
Delilah turned her head to look and groaned. Yep. There she was, clumsy as ever. She was apologizing to a man who had doubled over coughing "Arim..." she sighed, turning to walk towards her.
And it was then that the proverbial shit hit the fan.
Delilah paused in surprise as the busty black woman screamed in rage, her seething anger throwing the black haired mechanic off guard. Delilah started to hobble forwards as the psycho turned on the slickly dressed boy in front of her and the girl with the sword behind her. To pained an unwilling to move any further forwards, Delilah leaned against the closest wall and whistled through burnt fingers. "Arim, what are you doing?" she called, beckoning her over and away from Mr and Mrs Sprat. "You and your run ins with crazies..." She muttered under her breath as the girl approached.
She listened half-heartedly to most of what the man had to say, but she had to admit, his explanation definitely reflected why the crazy black boobs exploded. Hemophilia, huh? She sucked her teeth. That was pretty bad. Even so, her eyes narrowed as the pale man introduced himself and the walking cleavage. "Nice to meet you," she said as politely as she could, without sounding suspicious or sarcastic anyway.
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Tyr Odinson
QC
Posts: 43
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Post by Tyr Odinson on Jun 26, 2008 17:20:45 GMT -8
Andrew raised an eyebrow.
"Funny. Here you are speaking about how cool and badass we think we are, and you go off on a rant, speaking down to three different people just because you feel yourself better than us." He turned, leaning against the locker with his shoulder now instead, making note to move the toothpick around in his mouth with unnecessary obviousness so as to mock her.
"You don't know any of us, yet your jumping to conclusions from what you guess. Heres an idea, think before you speak and you might actually make yourself seem smarter than you are." Here, he supposed she could state that he himself was jumping to conclusions, which in his opinion, he wasn't, but he didn't care. He had probably insulted her to the point of her attacking him, or mocking him more, but he didn't care about that either. He simply stared and waited,the man next to her finally finishing his fit of coughing, making it possible that he didn't hear a word Andrew had said.
He listened while the pale man spoke, then nodded, still no expression apparent on his face, though his mind ran over the information he was given greedily. A new addition to the school supervision? What did that mean? Was the current supervision inadequate for some reason? If not, then why add to it? He ran through these questions in his mind, carefull not to take his eyes away from the hot headed woman the white fellow was with. He thought he could grow to respect the male, but unless the female grew some sense and stopped insulting everyone she laid eyes on, he didn't think his feelings toward her would grow much fonder.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 26, 2008 17:35:49 GMT -8
Bastille chuckled darkly at the woman. Oh she was so predictable. She had nothing to say to the woman, that would be degrading to talk to her. Bastille was also determined to skip every day of class that she had that teacher. She hated rich people. However this other man who made Bastille raise a brow was quite different from his partner. Bastille pushed herself from the lockers and decided to retort back.
“sure, im a student, straight from More House Private School for girls, London England…came to America to escape whiney people…its nice here, if you can handle the rash of fights that break out every once in a while…” she mused lightly more to offend the lady then actually greeting the man. She walked up to the man wearing a pair of tight tan riding pants and a white polo shirt and black fencing boots. She took off a black glove from her hand and held it out to the man.
“Im Bastille Cunningham, daughter to Alan and Rhodri of the Cunningham family.” She said turning to smile politely at the man. “forgive me if I seem base, I tend to be distasteful to my origins, and of others who chide me on my habits, im glad you see fencing as an honorable sport…however I assure you its not play, the only reason my blade is dull is because its against school rules to have a sharp one. In any case I wish you both good luck, your going to need it.” Bastille was frank, to the point, and very nonchalant saying the entire bit. She seemed to direct a good amount of hatred towards the woman, and wasn’t against showing it, however as her upbringing guided her, she was polite and curt with her partner. However she disliked the pair all around. she had more then enough reason to hate all rich people or people who acted as though they where. This couple was no exception and she was not below finding every possible means to make their life difficult here in what the lady called “a shithole” and Bastille was not going to argue. It wasn’t the nicest place either…however it was just the way she liked it and she wasn’t going to let this girl get the better of her. Though she congratulated them silently. They where the first people to instantly strike a nerve with Bastille.
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Post by Mademoiselle Dieudonnee on Jun 26, 2008 18:17:58 GMT -8
Dieudonnee turned to Serj and a grin spread across the black woman's face as he patted her head, "You know how frail you are, I'm simply doing my best for you~" she chimed in the most pleasant sesame-street tone ever.
Bipolar, much?
A small grin remained on her face for a moment before Andrew suddenly piped into the conversation, a small smirk crossing her lips. It was hard to tell her expression, or the look in her eyes, the sweeping light hair concealed any trace of her upper-face. Part of her wanted to pummel the cocky smirks off their faces, and she knew she could. She could take on all of them in the room without raising pinky.
Literally.
Listening to Bastille simply bored her, from the sound of Bastille, she was filthy rich. How hypocritical, she seemed to have disdain towards the two, yet she was rich herself. However she was sorely wrong, Bastille obviously lived a life of comfort, and no worries in the world. Dieudonnee on the other hand... live in a third world country... during a Genocide. She'd seen more dead bodies in 2 years of her life than any of these children would see in their whole lives. Television, or real life. What did Bastille know? Nothing, of course, Dieudonnee didn't care. Just a self-righteous, snotty little girl, just like the rest of them.
Presumptuous little twit, at least Dieudonnee had some rational behind her statement. If they weren't as cool as they thought they were, they wouldn't have been so spiteful towards Dieudonnee. She could see it in their eyes.
Her eyes turned towards Arim again and she smiled lightly, "Good thing we have some students that look like you, seems like all the other girls are butch". She turned her head to look meaningfully at Bastille and Delilah before turning to Serj. "I'll go notify the people at the front desk that we are here" she told him before taking a few steps forward, her thumb flicking a quarter towards Andrew. "Here, kiddo. Go buy yourself a personality". With that, she left the children to Serj. |
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Serj Castlereagh
Trainee
[M:0]
His sanguine spirit turns every firefly into a star
Posts: 98
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Post by Serj Castlereagh on Jun 26, 2008 18:46:30 GMT -8
Serj sighed as she walked into the front office and again, smiled with sincere apologies to those present. "Maybe charming wasn't quite the right word," he murmured lightly to himself with a bit of exasperation. He gladly took Bastille's hand, shaking it warmly. At the touch, he almost seemed to brighten. "Delighted to meet you, Bastille," he smiled. "An interesting name, I might add...a French fortress. It represents the beginning of many things...and," He leaned a little closer as he released her hand. "You seem to retain much of the ferocity of the age. Very promising."
He straightened and looked over at the boy who hid his eyes with sunglasses, laughing. He had to admit, he was impressed. "My, my, the students here are quite feisty, hmm?" He commented mostly to himself. "You seem as though you know quite a bit about this school. How long have you been here?" This last part addressed all those present. His hooded, smiling eyes moved over each of the ones present, resting on the black haired girl leaning casually on the wall. Even though he continued to smile, he showed genuine concern. "Are you quite alright miss...? You look as though you've been through a hurricane." He began to step towards her, but suddenly doubled over again in a coughing fit. "I...apologize," He said between coughs. "I've rec-cently been afflicted...with pneumonia." He finished hacking and straightened, wheezing. He looked up at Delilah with the same amount of concern. "You're sure you're okay?"
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Post by Arim Urem'der on Jun 26, 2008 19:06:29 GMT -8
Arim eyes grew large and scared when Dieudonnee howled at her, like a victimized animal staring in the face of a predator. After she had finally backed off, she blew a piece of hair out of her eyes and stood up straight, waving her hand a bit. Hemophiliac? By the Gods, no wonder she had a conniption, Arim might have too (albeit not that... scary) if someone close to her was bumped and that fragile. If anything, it made Arim feel a lot more guilty. "I..." she began, before Serj assured her that it was alright, with a somewhat comfortable smile. A small, forced smile crossed her lips until others seemed to enter in the conversation.
Arim looked over her shoulder at the dark-haired male, it was the guy from before. Never got his name... ah well, despite that, she gave him a friendly smile and a wave. The other was a girl with strange coloured hair and a sword, perhaps weaponry wasn't an unwise decision in PHS #259. When Dieudonnee finally left, a sigh escaped her, as if she started breathing again... that woman really frightened her, or at least caught her off guard. "Bastille was a prison in France... held only a handful of prisoners that the public believed to be thousands... they spoke out against King Louis XVI, and were arrested for it. It was a factor that began the French Revolution... if I remember correctly" she added on meekly, it was certainly an interesting name. Not like Arim had a common name, either. She was in no place to make judgements.
She took a step back to let Bastille have some room to introduce herself, but turned to look at Delilah. "Lala!" she cried, turning away from Serj and darting over to the injured mechanic. Arim threw her arms around Delilah and squeezed gently, "Rem's going to be AWFULLY UPSET if he sees you at school, Lala--" she stopped for a moment, hearing Delilah mutter under her breath. "...I attract crazies?" she whispered with a dumbfounded tone, who were the other crazies? Her head turned to look back at Serj as he approached for a moment before violently coughing again, making guilt practically suffocate the blonde girl. She didn't feel like she was helping his situation at all. |
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Tyr Odinson
QC
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Post by Tyr Odinson on Jun 26, 2008 19:22:07 GMT -8
All the womans words were lost on Andrew, the coin hitting his arm and flopping to the ground without him so much as looking her way. She was childish, and came up with corny, un-original lines aimed to demean and agitate. He ignored her, not letting so much as a twitch escape his face as she left. No, she was un-important. This man, the one she left, was obviously top dog, and for that reason alone he had Andrews attention. He pushed off the wall after the female left, walking over with his hands in at his sides, he stared at the man, getting a judge of character.
Then, he shrugged.
"Ive been here a week, maybe two, so i don't know much about the place, though i plan on finding out as much as possible." He held out a hand. "Names Micheal." He didn't give up his real name, he almost never gave that up, except for once, just recently when speaking to the school captain. His face was still calm, the deep black glasses not showing his eyes underneath. The man was frail, he could tell, and very ill. He wondered, if these people were so rich, why he didn't get himself healed.
After the handshake was taken or rejected, Andrew would nod at him as he asked "So, why you here? There something wrong with the current school supervisor?" He asked, his voice calm and respectful. This guy had earn a small ounce of respect from Andrew, though not a drop of trust. Nobody had that yet, not a soul.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 26, 2008 19:54:40 GMT -8
Bastille smirked as the thoughts in this new woman’s mind played across her eyes and muscle movements. Bastille could take her on, and despite what the woman thought Bastille was never an easy match. She nodded and backed up to give him some room to talk to the other students who like her where out of class for some reason. Well there where always those teachers kids had that they hated. This woman would just be one of them.
However hypocrite was the right word choice, as Bastille had noticed it probably pass through the woman’s mind. But Bastille probably guessed there was more behind that odd little smile of hers that she was letting on and that made Bastille curious. However Bastille was not a hypocrite. She had a choice to live the way the woman thought she did, but in truth that family, she had left behind several years ago moving to America with their rival family who also was quite rich. However, Bastille had even thrown that away in hopes to live the life she wanted despite the fact it called for living by the skin of ones own teeth. Bastille had a job and paid for everything on her own, in spite of her adoptive family. Of course this was completely opposite of what she sensed from this woman, born in wealth and by choice moving down to poverty….it was a choice most called crazy. But Bastille had her reasons, and she would keep them to herself. Because of that final choice Bastille also decided she didn’t mind being called a hypocrite, because inside she knew she wasn’t and the lady was quite wrong.
She had also been listening as her name was traced back to its origins.
“my blasted parents thought it would ‘regal’ to name be after a French prison…I hate them” she mumbled to herself as the other spoke and she listened though barely interested. She was thinking and trying to decipher the woman once again.
Bastille was broken from her thoughts to see the man coughing. She watched him quietly and walked over to him handing him a white handkerchief. Plain, and small the thing wasn’t much but she wasn’t going to get to close to him. God forbid the new teacher come back and slap her away like she did the other girl.
Bastille then turned to look at the other students particularly smirking in all their directions. She didn’t know why but she was starting to like the woman in her mind…this pair was a good challenge for her. She wanted the girl to come back out and face her…then again. new teacher huh? She was getting a better idea of how to take on the woman.
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