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Post by Rachel Dávill on Apr 8, 2009 16:25:33 GMT 1
Rachel took the last drag of her cigarette, while watching the schools clock slowly tick over to 8:00. She had been called to Mr. Downs, her History teacher's room. Apparently she had missed her last essay, which she definitely hadn't. He always seemed to be able to find a problem with her performance, so she had made sure to not give him anything, she was the perfect student. It was clear the creep scrapped her essay. She flicked the filter away, and walked through the school gates, books clutched to her chest, head down, face hidden.
She hated school, but it was all she had. This guy wasn't exactly making it easier. She was still bullied, and heckled, she still hadn't made many friends, but this is all she had. Mr. Downs had threatened her with expulsion, so the current circumstances seemed marginally preferable. If she was kicked out of school, she would be kicked out of her apartment. She made her way through the corridors towards his office, she just had to suck it up and take it. What a creep, getting a kick out of administering corporal punishment on someone like her.
She knocked on the door, hearing a deep, arrogant 'Enter' which made her cringe. She put her books down on the chair by the door, and walked over to him, head down.
She emerged about 10 minutes later, her left cheek was bruised, her left eye was bloodshot, her left nostril had just stopped bleeding, and her eyes were glazed in tears. What an impossible fucking situation. She couldn't think of a solution.
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Post by Odin Reeves on Apr 8, 2009 19:20:14 GMT 1
Within the gym there lied and office, unreasonably small and held only one desk, but an office nonetheless. Within that office sat a recent graduate of the previously Hircine High, looking over the flies of those who were suppose to be attending his morning classes. Half of them looked like they were high when their class pictures were taken, go figure. The other half just didn’t seem interested in physical education, and thus were probably trying to get an easy grade. Little did they know that they’d soon run into the Phys. Ed. Teacher from hell. He cared little about whether or not they were interested in his class, and more about their performance.
Having been there since seven that morning he was thirsty, and pushed his rolling chair back, nearly hitting the wall behind him with such a simple push. He pivoted on the chairs axis and grabbed the gym keys. Locking the office behind him, then the gym he headed down the hall towards the water fountain. He bypassed the one right in front of the gym, just never trusted it given how many mouths were wrapped around it after class. Instead he walked down to the academic section of the school, a bit less used in the school. As he brought his lips down to suckle at the stream of water his head turned to the side, seeing a student emerge from Mr. Downs History room.
He remembered Mr. Downs from his attendance in Hircine, and had only heard the worst of rumours from him. Of course, the pathetic old man never did anything to disturb him, and thus Odin had looked the other way throughout his stay as a student. But now he was a teacher, and his students weren’t to be harmed. Walking over to the young lady he moved with a smooth, steady pace. He didn’t want to frighten the girl more then she possibly was. Raising his hands in front of him, palms up and facing her to show no harm he spoke out to her.
“Miss, are you alright? I’m Odin--- Mr. Reeves, the new Physical Education teacher.” He stopped walking and paused, questing whether or not he should ask the next question. Keeping his distance in order to make her feel more secure he skipped by his worries and asked the question regardless. “Did Mr. Downs do this to you?”
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Post by Rachel Dávill on Apr 9, 2009 3:21:05 GMT 1
Rachel walked quite quickly away from his office, completely humiliated. She hated that creep passionately, enough to warrant criminal offence. She was almost completely oblivious to the world around her, too preoccupied with the war of emotions inside her subconscious. Rage. passion, pain, depression, humiliation...they were all piling up.
Rachel let out a slight sob, trying best to conceal her emotions. She heard somone behind her. Footsteps gaining pace to catch her. She stopped, and turned, not to face the man who had presented himself, but to lean on the lockers, her hands still clutched to her books on her chest, her head still down. She let out another quiet sob, determined not to make a scene, although she felt she should, for the sake of her health if nothing else.
He man stuttered slightly, in a less chaotic state of mind, Rachel could see he was only recently made a teacher, but she still had not looked up to him. She did not turn her head, but her eyes, to face the man briefly, before turning back nervously. Her eyes were still glazed with tears, she felt completely pathetic.
She closed her eyes tight, trying to calm herself down with limited success. She was only snapped back to reality by the man's next question. Maybe she should tell someone...maybe it would help. She was not thinking about the communicative support that he could give, only pondering on the idea of this broad, muscular, young man fighting Mr. Downs. The creep. Whenever she though of him she shuddered.
She nodded slightly in response to his question, her eyes closed and her mouth hidden behind her books. Her tears were getting thicker.
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Post by Odin Reeves on Apr 9, 2009 3:47:29 GMT 1
Staying his distance he made sure to even keep out of what’s know as someone’s personal space, a distance of two to five feet away. He stood more around the eight-foot mark, his body still expressing a calm, caring demeanour. Unless you look for them the signs were mundane, but the mind still processed them. Perhaps this is what people meant by feeling someone’s aura. In this case, he was calm, his breathing steady, and his eyes showed small signs of worry and sorrow, while his shoulders and muscles were relaxed.
As he looked her over he could tell that she felt like bursting out in tears, which made his heart swell up even more. He was use to seeing people cry over the most asinine things, but when it came to this he felt as though he had to do something. Call him old fashioned, but touching a women in a violent manner just wasn’t forgivable, not in the least.
“Miss, I’d like you to stay here for a moment. If you’d like too I want you to sit down until I return. I’ll just be a few minutes at most. Please, stay here.”
Reluctant to leave without a response he moved back a few steps before turning away. Any smart minded individual would probably leave for the nearest first aid kit, but you couldn’t class the new Phys. Ed. Teacher as a smart minded individual, not in this case. He headed straight back for Mr. Downs’s classroom, opening the door wide and pushing it closed gently as he stepped forward. The door would close slowly, lightly fitting into the frame, remaining open long enough to show his first action.
Taking both hands he grabbed the back of Mr. Downs skull, slamming it into his desk. That was all that was visible from outside the room before the door closed, but the sound of skull bouncing off of a hard oak desk echoed even into the hallway. A minute later and he opened and closed the classroom door, not even looking back. All the took with him from the class was a small blue first aid kit, the type you’d see packed and ready to use on a camping trip. Opening it up he first took out a simple disinfectant wipe, not a wet one like you’d get after order a bucket of wings. Putting the kit down he ripped open the end of the packet, handing it over to the young women.
“Mr. Downs won’t be a problem any more, and if he is just tell me. Miss, what’s your name?”
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Post by Rachel Dávill on Apr 14, 2009 23:56:21 GMT 1
ooc: Sorry for the wait hun! I went away for Easter ;D
She felt completely pathetic. She tried her very best to conceal her wild emotions, but couldn't. She just wasn't strong enough, especially now. She heard him over her own concealed sobs, behind her hair and books. As he suggested, she slowly slipped down the locker, to sit. The man was very polite, if slightly spaced. He was compensating for her insecurity, but right now she could use a little closeness.
She tried to respond to him, but couldn't manage it. She was to preoccupied on staying dignified. She peeked over her elbow to the door the man had just walked in, it closed slowly to the satisfying visuals, and excruciating soundtrack of a bald, sweaty had slamming against a hard wooden desk. She was filled with shock. Her fear and anxiety was well over driven by the sheer satisfaction, and sense of justice.
A minute later, in which Rachel's imagination ran wild other brutal repercussions, the man emerged, with a slight sweat, and a med-pack. She had stopped sobbing. He was a perfect gentleman, and handed her a disinfectant wipe, she took it and held it to her throbbing cheek. She was a little happier, this man had helped her, from no where, and for no particular reason. It was almost enough to restore her faith in people, but not quite.
"Rachel..." she answered timidly. Her French accent highlighted in the extenuated 'R', and 'CH'. "Rachel Dávill." She wiped her swollen eye slightly. "'Vat is your name?"
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Post by Odin Reeves on Apr 18, 2009 7:43:34 GMT 1
"Odin Reeves." He replied, being as polite as he could. Pulling out a chemical cold compress he crushed the packet in his right hand, feeling the cooling temperature after just a few seconds. "Ms. Dávill, take this, it should help with the swelling and pain." Extending his hand he offered the compress with his palm up, still keeping his stance given the situation. He was never good at understanding another's emotions, which was slightly strange given that he grew up in a house of women. One would think he'd be able to grab emotions out of the air as they came up, but that simply wasn't the case. He was either to stubborn or ignorant to develope that charm.
"Ms. Dávill, I have two options for you. You can either visit the nurse's office, or be more descrete with your actions and clean yourself up in the girls washroom. It's completely your choice, but I'd recommend seeing the school nurse."
He was honest in his opinion, because no matter what school he went to, or when he attended it, the school nurse had always been the neutral factor that kept the student-teacher structure together. They didn't care how you got injured, just that the wounds were treated. It must've been the 'doctor mentality' to preserve life, no matter who's it is. Whatever the reason it was usually a beautiful thing.
Bringing himself up to his feet he remained slightly hunched over, offering Ms. Dávill his free left hand to help her up, his right clutching the red carrying strap with two fingers - all that he could fit into it's small band. "C'mon young lady, lets get you to your feet."
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