Even and Odd [tag: Cael]

[Devon Patrick Andrews]

Devon looked around his new classroom. It was larger than his last one, but that one had had a much better view. All he could see through the windows was the large parking lot. With a sigh, he turned his attention to get ready for his first class. After all, he had promised himself that he would keep his bitching and moaning about the abrupt upheaval of his life to his own time rather than when he should be focusing on work.

He went through the rows of desks, neatening them into better lines. There was an even number of them when he was done. “Damn it!” He cursed softly. Devon was naturally a giant potty mouth. He tried his best to curb the instinct while on school grounds but wasn't always successful at it, hence his habit of being quite when he cursed a blue streak.

He needed another desk, one that he put next to his at the front of the class. It was part humiliation—therefor a punishment—and part helping him give more focused attention on the students that needed it. A few of his former colleagues had said it wasn't really helping his students since it was too much hand holding and wouldn't prepare them for the real world. Devon thought not making sure his students actually learned anything wouldn't prepare them for the real world. And he always eventually chucked them back into the greater sea of students when he felt like they were caught up-slash-could behave themselves.

So, he needed another desk. Sure, he could have just taken one from his neat rows, but the perfectionist in him wouldn't hear of it. The solution came to him quickly. He needed to meet some of his fellow teachers anyway.

He went right for the room across from his. He knocked politely on the door before he even looked inside. “Hello?”

[Cael Gwynfor Guthrie]

Cael had begun his drinking early. He leaned back in the chair as he waited for the first class to begin, but holy hell it would be a small bit. He had a long day yesterday what with his band and then that strange boy. So he figured a movie would suit for his little kiddies today. He was dressed in a disheveled white button up, the sleeves cut off for his own confort, a white scarf that simply looked like it was just ripped, and black tight jeans, of course with his platform combat boots. He was a giant of a man, very tall.

That was when he heard the knock. Now he could do the rude thing and just ignore it, but wasnt he always there to help his fellow man? Oh hell not. But he would try for today. He straightened the black tie that he had thrown on and righted his scarf, but he still looked a mess, he tried to mess with his hair, make it look better, but it just wasnt working. He shrugged and cursed under his breath. He moved to the door as he opened it, a smile on his face.

"Eh? What The Fuc- Oh... Hello, anything I can help ya with?" He said as he held the bottle behind his back, looking at the man. He looked the man up and down before he straightened his posture and realized him as a teacher, probably new, but he would shut up for the time being. "Ah, my apologies sir. He said as he smiled, with all the force of a teenager's sarcasm and attitude, packaged with age.

[Devon Patrick Andrews]

Devon took in the very tall student—for that was the only option his mind would consider with the way he was dressed—for a moment before the smell of alcohol hit him. He really didn't hear anything said to him, he was too busy doing his patented deep-breath-and-glasses-push-up teacher gesture of severe disapproval. “What do you think you are doing?” Devon demanded.

In his day there were much better—well, smarter—places to get drunk on campus. Like under the bleachers for instances. He didn't know if students still used that place. He sure as hell wasn't going to check it out. There was no way he was ever going under those fucking bleachers ever again.

“Hand it over, right this second.” His steely strict teacher tone didn't waver despite the rush of surrealism that rushed over him. It wasn't that it was odd that he was busting a kid of drinking at school, it wasn't a new occurrence. It was the fact that he was doing it—being an authority figure—in the place where he had gone to school. It was so weird, but he was sure he'd get used to it. He was stuck here again, but this time had to be better. After all, he could hand out detentions this time.

[Cael Gwynfor Guthrie]

Cael widened his eyes as he clutched the bottle to his chest. It was one thing to do the damned teacher act on him, it was a whole hellish other thing to be demanding his alcohal. This was war in the man's mind. He straightened his stance as he glared at the man, his threatening demenor back as he smirked. "..Now look here.. I have a class soon, and the only way I feel like dealing with the damned populace is if i am roaring drunk with a side of desperate for a quick lay. Now you sir, may greatily piss off before I get thrown out of here for a fight with a very short man.

He spoke as he smiled, turning his back on the man and walking into the room, he tilted his head back as he downed a good bit of the bottle. He winked at the man and simply blew him a kiss. Afterall, he did so hate to be told what to do and what not to do. It was a pain in his arse and he was no longer going to stand for it, even if he did tower over it. He sat on the desk and moped like any man his age should not do.