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Post by Grell Sutcliff on Nov 10, 2009 12:46:06 GMT -5
"Okie Dokie! Almost ready!" Announced the joyfully excited Grell Sutcliff. He was to teach on Fashion and sewing. A joy that would be now, wouldn't it? He smiled and cleaned a few of the old desks off. Just like he used to do as a butler. That was always fun. To be so clumsy and still look good. And to work along side Sebastian....Oh what a hottie.
Shaking his head and breaking free from his fantasies, Grell finished off a few of the desks and moved to setting a sewing machine on the last desk. "Aha!" He chuckled and placed his black gloved hands to his hips.
"Now we are ready!" With steadfast speed and the clacking of his heels, he rushed to open the door to his students. His red hair drifting before his face.
"Alright! Class is starting! Get to your seats, my sweets!" He shouted with joy and cheer in his voice. With that, he turned and left the door open. He sat his small tush on his desk and waited to see how long it would take for his students to get inside.
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Xion
Second Years 
Puppet
Roxas, that's a stick.
Posts: 3
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Post by Xion on Nov 10, 2009 15:50:07 GMT -5
First class of the day and Xion was, of course, late.
Luck just hadn't been on her side since she set foot on campus, and being that she was still getting settled and her living quarters were up in the air at the moment, just having the ability to wake up had turned into a Herculean effort. It also didn't help that, aside from the daily missions, the Organization's schedule had been fairly lax compared to this one.
So she was darting through students where she had once avoided legions of Heartless and ducking around lockers where she used to leap off ledges and catch hold of outcrops. Fortunately for her, she was good at it, even if she wasn't accustomed to the girl's uniform or having to worry about the skirt that flared up when she moved exactly the wrong way--which was often for a girl more likely to be in a cloak. A whistle behind her got met with a glare that wished death, and then Xion ducked into the classroom. "Good morning, ssss..." She hesitated.
Blinked.
Sir or ma'am here?
"Professor," she compensated, hoping that would suffice for the moment as she wound her way through the forest of desks to take one about the third row back--not too close, but not so far away as to risk inattention. Great. Fashion. Yes, she thought somewhat irritably as she smoothed the skirt down and sat on it, careful to cross her legs under the desk. The feeling of her bare thighs brushing together was just strange. Maybe I can learn how to turn this stupid thing into some SHORTS.
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