[ open ] We don't need no teachers?

[Pixie Rose Weir]

After finally managing to convince the old teacher at the door that she was actually a member of the faculty, Pixie made herself a large mug of tea and practically collapsed onto a sofa. Obviously an expert at such chilled actions as she didn't spill a drip of the scalding liquid.
It had been a long flight and even longer to move into her apartment. Yet, because she didn't think to check the time differences, she started work now. Or at least, that was when she was supposed to be in the building.

Dressed in jeans, a plain white tank and a rather jazzy black suit jacket; she didn't exactly look like the typical 'teacher'. Her age was another point against the truth. Legs hanging over the arm of the sofa as her free arm was draped over her tired eyes, lifting the cup to her lips for an awkward sip as she lay on the cushios and tried desperately to stop yawning and finally be professional. She had work at Honda tomorrow and knew fine well it'd take at least a fortnight for her to regain her usual 'bounce'.

Part of her wanted to be a child, a proper teen and just sleep for a good few days until she had to 'live'. But, she was an adult now and had to be serious and responsible. Chicago was lonely to her really, she hadn't tracked down anyone she knew and had yet to meet anyone really. "Here's hoping there isn't some list of students I have to meet today...I can barely stand the arses of teacher's I've met already." she grumbled to herself.

Pixie couldn't help but feel out of place in more ways than she had fingers and toes to count. But with gains came losses...

{apologies, i hate first posts}

[Viktor Criss Smirnov]

The sounds of footsteps up and down the halls were heard outside the door. One set moved quickly and deliberately towards the room. A place that was quickly become a sanctuary from the whines and annoyance of the kids out side that hollowed room. The door opened with a squeak as a tall dark hair figure walked in. Lingering at the door a moment he nodded, and spoke in his deep voice, his words were far from English. A female voice followed in the same tongue as his own, then with that his little sister walked away. The door finally closed behind him as he moved towards the coffee maker. Hardly noticing just yet the other here in the room. Over one shoulder hung a black messanger bag already he was in a sour mood. Sleep hadn't been kind to him. Even downing half a bottle of Jack, much against his sister's approval, didn't help all he had to show for it now was a killer headache. Half a bottle and he was out? He was getting old. That's all there was to it. At twenty-three he was now old. How pathetic was he?

His attire wasn't the norm either. Baggy jeans and a black muscle shirt. He was only just decent by a professonal standard by the black hooded leather jacket he wore over his arms. Grumbling something in his native tongue. Pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot coffee, blowing at it gently he growled that it was hot yet would have growled if it were cold. He had left the apartment to late to get his morning Starbucks fix so he was stuck with this half made counterfit crud. Even if his coffee was always black he pefered the taste of Starbucks. His sister on the other hand had her favorites. Pumpkin Spice and some Caramel one with a name he couldn't begin to pronounce. Blowing once more at his coffee he finally took a sip. Half hissing at the sharp warmth of it yet glad to have the caffeine about to enter his system. Taking another sip, longer than he should with it so hot. Swallowing it down quickly then only did he sigh feeling himself relax just a little bit.

It was only then that he noticed another there. He was getting rude now too. But to all defence caffeine was a must on mornings like this. Taking another quick sip he smiled lightly at her comment. "I am beginning to feel the same of both myself." He told her his Russian accent thick in his voice. "I don't think I've seen you around before.. the name's Criss." He said politely after taking another drink of his coffee.

....
Word Count : 482
Muse Currently MIA
Tag : ----
Random : If you don't mind me..
An yes openings are the curse of us all.
But yours was just fine. ^^

[/size]