<h4>Out of Character</h4> Who: http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=12Stormwing</a> and http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=122Kjetta Pujcmatt</a>. What: A private session for learning Ramathian language skills. Where: An academy classroom. When: Evening, Tessera, Day 46, Year 81378 (4). Rated: PG-13, just because. <h4>In Character</h4> The female leaned forward in the desk, drumming porcelain digits in a bored fashion upon the desktop. She was quite accustomed to waiting, but it seemed like she'd done a whole lot more than usual in the past few days, and her patience was thinning. Not to mention, this seating arrangement wasn't exactly what one would call "comfortable." Nevertheless, despite a thousand mental gripes, she remained still and fastened to her chair, eyes scanning blearily along the other desks and towards the front of the classroom. She was alone in a dimly-lit classroom, just an average sort of educational space. There was not much to remark about, or look at, for that matter, and Stormwing finally gave up and buried her head in her arms. "So... bored." Silence consumed her after the two words had echoed and died away into the quiet, and frosted ears flickered as the youth listened to distant sounds. She heard the padding of footsteps far down the corridor, then the creaking and ultimate snap of a door opening and closing. A few moments of impregnable noiselessness ensued, which was then abruptly interrupted by a piercing shout. "Wait, up!" Grumbling at this random outburst, Storm' shifted once more in her seat, turning her head in such a way so that she could peek at the door. Despite all the commotion going on out in the hall, her instructor had not yet arrived, nor was there any suggestion of his approach being any time soon. But, really, what else could she expect? Unlike yesterday's professor, she knew this one, and personally. They were collective members of her old, withering gang, and it had been apparent from the beginning of their acquaintanceship that the male wanted to be more than just friends. In turn, she had treated him like fodder ever since, though her teasing and callousness had eventually begun to fade as she turned away from the black light of her life. Nowadays, she was much more willing to befriend him and be pleasant, and he'd learn it as soon as he got here. Perhaps they would gain some semblance of friendship. The fact that he was her ticket to learning Ramathian and moving up in the U.S.R. ranks was also factored into her newfound desire to make nice with him, though it was not an excuse of which she was ashamed. Sure, this could be construed as her "using him," but they would both gain in the process. He would get her approval, and whatever meager monetary rewards Janardan offered, and she'd get her certification in the language. It seemed like a perfectly fair deal to her. Now if only he would show up already!
Still sitting in the staffroom sipping his warm mug of hot chocolate was Kjetta. He was curled up on one of the armchairs, a pile of marked books on the small table in front of him and a pile of unmarked ones next to it. His hand was busy with a red pen ticking and crossing in a basic Ramthian student's book. He'd been working like this for several hours, and had completely forgotten about Stormwing's request for private lessons. It wasn't until one of the other teacher's asked him if he had the time, did he actually remember. He nearly dropped the mug of hot drink all over the books and himself as he started. He qucikly put the books into their place in his marking tray before finding the textbook and a blank exercise book. On the way, he grumbled to himself about forgetting yet another task. He was forgetting lots of things lately. I must write stuff down in future he said softly to himself as he strided down the Acadamy halls, passing students and professors alike. His current attire was that of his casual wear: flared dark jeans which were ripped in several places, and a t-shirt with an odd looking symbol on it for the logo of his favourite band 'Rlyyp Rush.' But the students were so used to him by now, especially as he lived in one of the dorms for professors. It made things much easier. He was a little worried about this sudden request from Stormwing. Especially after their meetings in the past. He'd heard some things from the other professors about her, changing all her trades and some would say her character as well. But he was still worried. Who could blame him? He was a sucker for females. He couldn't help it, he found them so interesting. How they are so different to the male gender. But that's another story. He did still find her attractive. And what guy in their right mind wouldn't? He finally reached the corridor of his Ramathian room and stepped into the classroom. Seeing Stormwing waiting for him made him feel very guilty. He shut the door quietly and grabbed a seat to pull up to her desk on the other side so that they were face to face. I'm really sorry about that Stormwing. You know what my legendary memory is like He said softly in his husky voice, his dark brown orbs soft and warm as he sat down and placed the two books on the desk. He wasn't even sure how to begin conversation... You're a wimp you are, Kjetta.
Her deliberations about motive quietly faded in her mind, and Storm' sat up once more, tightening and flexing her back muscles as she did so. She lifted toned arms above her head, and stretched them, as well, and then the young femme flopped backwards against the unyielding wood of the desk. Feet, bare save for a pair of rainbow socks, crossed at the ankles as she straightened her legs stiffly out before her, and she stilled in this pose, hunched low in the chair. She crossed her newly limbered arms over her modest chest, and she continued to point her gaze towards the doorway. Through her various motions, she had heard no indication of movement outside the door, or up the hallway beyond. Yet, now, she could hear the soft thudding of footsteps. Sighing, and rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, she straightened up. Not two seconds after she adapted a more formal poise, the strapping male launched into the room, with a hurried sense about him. Apologies were uttered as he grabbed a chair and scooted it near hers, reposing quickly into it and looking at her. His familiar eyes pierced her own gaze, and she returned it with unwavering intensity. "It's okay. Just make it up to me by giving me an extraordinary lesson, okay? I want to get through this with graet marks, as fast as fuckin' possible," Stormwing purred to the male, once she had a second to speak a reply. Only realizing afterwards that she had sworn, being so accustomed to using bad language in everyday conversation, she flicked an ear and apologized. "My bad... I may be giving my life a bit of a face lift, but the potty mouth is going to remain, always," she added with a demure smile. For a few seconds, she let the silence wrap around them both, and then the banded female leaned over, reaching beneath her seat to retrieve a tote bag. She dragged it up into her lap, then began to fish through it. She pawed through an array of books, papers, and other school supplies, before withdrawing a glossy textbook and a matching workbook. They bore the emblems of the Janardan branch that published basic Ramathian books, and she stared at the twin logos for a few moments. Her hybrid eyes then flickered upwards, to catch his eyes once again. They bored right into him, as if analyzing and scrutinizing... as if she was about to test how good his teaching skills were. "Shall we begin?" She cued, cutting right to the chase.
