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Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Sept 19, 2012 15:23:27 GMT -5
  scattered across the coast “Do you even go here?”
Thaddea looked up from her plate of salad – plain without dressing, just the way she liked it. A young man, likely a college student, stood waiting for her answer. Annoyance flashed across her face as she stood to face him. Her coat and dress swirled around her, her arms folding reflexively over her chest. She did not enjoy being confronted in such a manner. She stared the man down, clearly meaning business. She spoke in a brisk voice, curt. Her words were oddly formal, “I would prefer to be addressed with some semblance of eloquence.” She hadn’t bothered to actually answer his question. It was rare that someone didn’t know her. “Unless there is something particular you need from me, please go about your business.”She stared at him expectantly, all but tapping her foot as she awaited her answer. But she took the moment to look him frankly up and down. He was young, but perhaps a year or two from graduation. There was a disheveled look about him, one of youth and mischief. He looked much like an overgrown college student, all grins and parties – no future. Her lips pursed.
“So you do go here?”
Scratch that, her assessment had been inaccurate. Such a thing was a rarity, for Thaddea’s lack of emotional display often heightened her observant nature. She had a tendency to read people quite accurately, to be able to judge them almost to a tee. Thus, usually when she made an observation about someone it was entirely accurate – much to the annoyance of the person in question. But for once, Thaddea was retracting her assessment. She had concluded that this young man was, in her own words, an overgrown college student with no future. But upon hearing him speak, watching the pathetic display of utter confusion, she was forced to reassess. While Thaddea had a love of long words and formal speech patterns – she was generally quite easy to understand. At times she spoke in simpler terms for those of lesser intelligence, but even that wasn’t usually necessary. She pursed her lips, looking him up and down again. Yes, she had reached a new and quite definite conclusion. This man was no overgrown college student. Oh no. He was an elementary aged child. And judging by the utter blankness in his eyes, Thaddea was inclined to wonder whether he had a mental disability. It would certainly explain his inability to speak proper English.
Her arms remained folded over her chest, though her eyes were analytical. She knew there was a certain IQ level at which people were declared afflicted by mental retardation. She couldn’t remember the number exactly. She knew she herself was amply above such a level. No, she concluded. This young man was not to the point of mental retardation. But he was certainly flirting with the edge. She relaxed her position, reasoning that he could be no threat to her. A man who couldn’t comprehend simply spoken sentence structure could not be capable of the higher thought taken to pose a threat to Thaddea. She sighed, checking her wrist watch. She really didn’t have time to meddle with the riffraff of modern society. She had a meeting, and she kept strictly to schedule. It started in little less than an hour. Others would have seen this as ample time. But Thaddea had a strict rule. If she wasn’t a half an hour early, she might as well be late. She was punctual to an extreme, and often to the annoyance of those she was meeting. But this did not concern her. She turned back to the boy, running a hand through her hair in subtle exasperation for a moment before attempting to speak again.
She spoke in much simpler language, slower too, attempting to convey her words in basic enough terms that he would understand. She felt as if she was speaking Italian to a Spaniard. They understood bits and pieces, but not enough for a true conversation. Her voice, when she did speak, retained its brisk business-like pace, its cold detached professionalism, “Yes, I’m a professor. Do you need something from me?” He seemed to shake his head, now thouroughly embarrassed and at a loss for words. He backed mutely away, fading into the crowd. Thaddea, for her part, was more than happy to return to her lunch. She had allotted herself fifteen minutes for the consumption of her salad before returning to work, and that idiot had wasted nearly four minutes of her time. Her lips twitched, but made no other movement. She returned to eating, each movement careful and mechanical.
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Post by CATERINA MELODY RAVENHILL on Sept 19, 2012 18:04:19 GMT -5
The complete opposite of Thaddea in every way, professionalism was not Caterina's forte. The moment she was freed from the confines of her classroom she considered herself a free spirit that could do and say whatever she damn well pleased... so long as it didn't make its way back to her boss, of course, but not a lot of people were the whining, tattle-tale sort. The heels she'd worn were hurting her feet and so instead of going home to change her shoes as she probably should have done, Rin pulled them off and carried them loosely in one hand as she walked barefoot down the castle halls. It might not have been the best idea due to the fact that the stone wasn't exactly clean but it was nothing a shower later on couldn't fix. She was lax in her mannerisms and habits, far from a perfectionist, far from obsessive. She was also fucking starving because she'd slept in and skipped breakfast that morning in her rush to get to the Academy. One would think that she'd have gotten a hang of time management after working the same job for two years but there were still times when she slipped up. Whoops.
The aching in her feet was starting to subside now that the straps of her heels weren't trying to dig their way into flesh but she didn't bother putting them back on. She knew that doing so would only reignite the burning pain and she had no desire to be uncomfortable for the sake of fashion. Fashion could go and fuck itself as far as she was concerned. The young drama teacher paused in the hall and frowned as she considered what she was going to do for lunch. She could have gone for a pizza or a sub or something but the ten minute drive into Maple Hollow really wasn't a drive she wanted to make right now. The mess hall was a lot quicker even if the food wasn't of the take-out variety. It irritated her that the long and winding road designed to isolate the Academy from the town situated next to it was now not a necessity due to the fact that they'd finally driven the mortals out of their land. It was nice to be able to blow stuff over for shits and giggles without having to worry about being arrested and detained but seriously. Huffing out an impatient breath, she decided that the mess hall was indeed her best bet and resumed a steady pace toward it. At five foot seven without her heels, Rin didn't feel like she was small and insignificant among the crowds that milled about the hall, though she did wish a lot of them would get the fuck out of her way. She loved crowds at concerts and events, she hated them when she had to navigate.
Her goal of reaching the mess hall was achieved soon enough and after grabbing as much food as she could cram onto a single plate she cast around for a place to settle down. Her icy eyes were attracted to a scene unfolding between a fellow member of faculty and a younger male who was probably a student. Rin started toward them, eager to catch any whiff of drama, but to her dismay it was all over by the time she'd reached them. Mentally shrugging her shoulders, she sat down without being invited and set her shoes on the table beside the heaping plate of food. "Trolling the local population, are you? Kid looked like you killed Christmas or some shit. What did you say to him?" Her blue eyes were bright and her mind was hungry for gossip. Rin was what could be oh-so-eloquently called a shit-stirrer in some aspects. She craved drama and she loved to be a part of the business of others. She didn't give a damn if she offended people in the process, either. She was confident in who she was and she had no plans to change it.
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Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Sept 19, 2012 22:26:54 GMT -5
scattered across the coast She speared each piece of lettuce individually, pairing it with either a carrot, cucumber or bean. It was very plain, yes, almost didn’t require the use of a napkin or utensils. But even the idea of eating her meal without such things would have been enough to make her blanch. Such a thing was disrespectful, impossible to forgive. So Thaddea sat, carefully eating each portion of her small salad. When she returned home that evening, she would each just as simple a meal – likely plain noodles and a glass of water. Perhaps she’d put butter and lemon juice if she was feeling particularly extravagant. But mostly she liked to keep it simple. This often drove her house-mate, Mr. Thomas Roth, to near insanity. He’d assumed, when the agreement had been made to share a house, that he’d be receiving nightly delicious elaborate meals. He’d been sadly disappointed to realize the extent to which Thaddea simplified her life, the utter mechanicalness with which she treated even her daily meals. He’d gone back to ordering take-out, only occasionally partaking in the dinners she made. She’d never really thought to make him something different, more appealing. Why should she? There was no logical reason he couldn’t enjoy the same food she did.
Thaddea was just finished, laying her fork precisely beside her now-empty bowl. She would dab at her lips, and in a moment rise to discard both things before returning to her classroom. It doubled as an office. She’d been offered an office, as most professors had, but had declined. She saw no logical reason why she should have two desks, when she only needed one. She carried very little, only what was necessary. Her desk held no charming photographs of family, no trinkets or doo dads. It was clear of all but that which she absolutely needed. She glanced at her watch. She’d finished her meal with four minutes still allotted to the consumption of her lunch. That meant she could return to her classroom early and resume grading papers before her next class started. She was actually quite pleased with the prospect. Perhaps then, when she returned home, she would in fact have no work left over to do. This meant she could either get ahead on the next day’s work, or perhaps do no work at all. Perhaps, instead, she would contemplate buying a cat – buying a gray tabby cat and naming him Mulligan. Of course this would have to be discussed, as she had a pre-existing set of house rules which included the forbidding of any “obnoxious animals”.
She wondered to herself whether a cat could be counted as obnoxious. To those who unfortunately had allergies, they certainly weren’t pleasant. But they were far preferable to dogs, who tended to slobber and bark and generally demand attention. A cat was a respectable animal, a polite creature. It kept to itself, interacted no more than necessary or otherwise desired. Perhaps Thaddea herself was like a cat, a mechanical, perfect, cat. She was remotely pleased with the thought. She had begun to gather her things when she heard a voice, clearly directed at herself. She lifted her head to see her coworker take the seat across from her, addressing her in a quite informal manner. Thaddea dipped her head, utterly refusing to conform to this informality. “Good afternoon Professor Ravenhill,” She glanced at the woman’s shoes, sitting ostentaciously upon the table, quite near the meal she appeared to intend to eat. “Is there a particular reason your shoes are not upon your feet?” She deliberately ignored the implicated of the other woman’s questions. She had said nothing inappropriate, nor unduly unkind. She waved a hand, having long forgotten the hapless student.
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Post by CATERINA MELODY RAVENHILL on Sept 20, 2012 17:58:37 GMT -5
Caterina wasn't a kind person by any means, so her interest in what Thaddea had done or said to the student had nothing to do with any kind of morality issues. No, instead she was eager to delight in the encounter that had concluded before she'd been given ample time to make her way over to the table. Rin went where the drama did and so she could often be found in bars listening to those with wagging tongues loosened by alcohol. It was amazing what a beer or two could do for someone's desire to babble. Thaddea was not drunk, no, but it still took Rin aback when the older woman chose to completely ignore her question. Avoiding a direct or honest answer was one thing, the drama teacher was used to that, but to all but feign deafness was another matter entirely. Her brows lifted slightly. She wasn't offended, Rin didn't tend to take direct offence to a much, but she was blunt and certainly had a few words to spare for this kind of situation. "All right, just completely ignore my question, that's fine." She waved her hand as if to dismiss any hard feelings but there was an edge to her tone that was not hard to detect. "What, are you afraid I'm going to run my mouth?" She made a noise of amusement in her throat. "Yeah, right. Me reporting you. That's a laugh." She assumed that the other woman was worried about Rin telling their boss that she was scaring off students that tried to talk to her and so she didn't pause to wait for an answer to the initial question.
She realised after a pause that she'd turned slightly hypocritical in ignoring Thaddea's question and her blue eyes found the heels she'd set down on the table. "They're a bitch to wear around all day, I can't sit behind my desk the entire time like some people." The smirk suggested that she was indicating her coworker with these words. "And it's Rin. I'm not a professor, either." Her students called her Ms. Ravenhill not because she liked the sound of her last name but because she couldn't stand the way some of them would sneer her first name if they had a problem with her. It made her want to punch things and decking a student would get her on the fast track to the chopping block. She'd be fired before the day was through, perhaps within a minute or two if they could contact her boss fast enough. As for Caterina, well, she hated her first name. And Cat. Rin was how she introduced herself to anyone that was not a student and she'd even been known to ask her favourites to call her Rin because she didn't like her last name either. It reminded her of her father in the same way that her first reminded her of her dear, dead mother. She narrowed her eyes for a moment in thought, then confessed without shame, "Nope, can't remember your name. What do you teach?" Not that it would help her to refresh her memory, she just wanted to know. She was nosy like that.
Though Caterina was by no means a slob, she didn't see the point of the table manners and etiquette that Thaddea observed. She didn't scarf down the food or chew with her mouth open but she saw no problem with handling some of the food with her fingers. Sure, you could use a fork for tater tots, but why would she bother with being all proper? They tasted all right but after swallowing she complained, "They need to treat this place like a college and line it with restaurants." Fast food wasn't the best example of a restaurant but seeing as she couldn't usually afford a higher form of living, McDonalds was her Northern Lights. "I could do with a slice of pizza but the city's miles away. Ugh. Maybe a burger and fries, even." Maple Hollow wasn't that far, Rin was simply lazy and spoke her mind on just about any subject. She was used to eating nothing but fast food because it was simple and convenient, it didn't require any kind of planning. And it certainly didn't involve cooking, something that Rin could do (she wasn't the best, but she got by) but usually couldn't be bothered doing. It was remarkable that she managed to drag herself out of bed in the morning, at least from the way she saw it. She deserved a medal for her dedication to this shitty job. It was hard to believe that she'd been here longer than a few months and kept her sanity.
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Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Sept 26, 2012 22:42:04 GMT -5
scattered across the coast She had never been the type to engage in frivolous conversation, neither with her peers nor her superiors. She saw no reason, really. She’d never highly identified with them. At first it had been born of a wariness. What if she gave just a little too much away? Friendships always came with questions, the kind that Thaddea would never be able to provide answers to. So she’d avoided her coworkers, anything resembling an intimate relationship had become out of the question. It had been built on fear. And from that fear had developed something she could never have expected, something she’d truly been unable to stop – mostly because she’d been blind to it, and still was. She’d become rigid, overly organized, ruled by her schedule and her rules. It had become an obsession, something she still refused to admit resisted. It was an amusing thing though. Those teacher that had been around for a while – two years or so – they would remember her as she had been when she came. She had been quiet, kept her head down, flinched occasionally. But most of them, well those memories had faded away, replaced by the current image of a woman ruled by order and hierarchy. And Thaddea, well she was fine with that.
She returned her attention to Professor Ravenhill, blinking her confusion at the other woman. She hadn’t honestly thought the woman’s question was meant to receive an answer. It had seemed almost rhetorical. Still, she didn’t apologize. “I had assumed you spoke in jest.” She spoke minimally, as she wasn’t one given to extensive answers. She figured her few words covered the entire matter. She’d had no fear whatsoever of being reported, as in her view she’d done nothing to deserve being reported. And considering the rebellious and usually unpleasant nature of the other woman, well Thaddea would have found it highly ironic for Professor Ravenhill to have done such a thing. She looked back to her dishes, glancing at her watch. The minutes she’d allotted for lunch were slowly ticking by. Quite soon, if she were to stay on schedule (and straying from the schedule was not an option), she would need to untangle herself from her present company. She shifted slightly, returning her eyes to Miss Ravenhill. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the following words. She did not enjoy being corrected, especially not in such a mocking manner. “You should endeavor to wear less foolish shoes then, Miss Ravenhill.” And just for the snide comment, she would utterly refuse to use the name her coworker had so obviously wanted used.
Her tone was becoming more clipped, slightly curter than usual. Though considering how rigid her speech usually was, well it was nearly impossible to tell the difference. “Professor Melantha,” She would not be giving out her first name so freely. Some were permitted to use it – her roommate Thomas for instance, whose company she was growing to find comforting – but this woman, well she deserved no more respect than her students. She was no equal to Thaddea, no avid pursuer of the human perfection. “I teach history.” She watched with undisguised frankness as her companion began to eat. The woman was no slob, true, but she didn’t eat with the same precision as Thaddea did. Then again, no one ate with the precision that Thaddea did. She enjoyed the food at the school, it was predictable and consistent. She knew she could come in every afternoon, prepare her plain salad, and have no surprises. There would never be a day when her salad suddenly wasn’t available. And in her mind, well what more did she need. Her lips pressed together slightly, thinning in a displeased expression. “Such a thing would only promote weight gain.” Now she was being quietly argumentative, but that was what happened when her buttons were pushed.
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Post by CATERINA MELODY RAVENHILL on Sept 29, 2012 4:27:40 GMT -5
Dark red brows arched up as she considered her coworker, trying to figure out if it was Thaddea who 'spoke in jest' as she'd put it. Rin had not, in fact, been joking at all. She might have suggested something that wasn't impossible such as the murder of a popular holiday but the question had been serious enough. She was a little bothered by the lack of information she'd gotten from her inquiry but it was something she figured she could easily brush off. Thaddea wasn't one for gossip, fine. "If I was joking I wouldn't have asked you about it." She shrugged. She was as yet unaware of how her attitude was bothering the other woman. That is, until the comment about her shoes was made. To Rin, that comment spoke a sort of challenge. Was Thaddea trying to insult her? "Well then, aren't you the fashion expert?" A tone that had previously been light and friendly became a lot more snide as her blue eyes narrowed. Regardless of how Thaddea had taken it, the correction on her name hadn't been said in a rude manner, merely casual and blunt. She didn't like being called Miss Ravenhill any more than she'd liked Professor Ravenhill and she offered a cold, critical glare as she tried to figure out whether the woman was trying to incense her on purpose. She did not have the explosive temper of a Fire that would encourage her to start a physical confrontation right then and there in the mess hall but she was certainly making her judgemental decisions about the history professor.
Perhaps someone a little more level-headed and polite would have taken the time to explain the need for the heels. Rin didn't have any other shoes that were considered suitable for her job environment, really, and with most of her money going to rent, her car payments, and food in her stomach, she didn't have too much to spare on a pair that were for work alone. Her typical knee-high boots stood out too much and her combat boots? No way. So the only things she had left were the heels she usually wore when she dressed up to go out with friends. She didn't bother explaining this to Thaddea. She didn't think the woman deserved an explanation. It didn't surprise her when Thaddea refused to give out her first name, though admittedly it exasperated her. What a priss. She didn't like people like Thaddea. They were interested to observe, occasionally to talk to and gossip about, but her friends tended to be in the laid-back and outgoing types. Thomas and Logan were two of her coworkers she was the most at home around, mostly because they'd proved themselves more than capable of dealing with the attitude she tended to display. It wasn't just an act for the sake of infuriating the history professor, it was her overall personality. "Well, Melantha,," she said as she purposely left out 'professor', "it was nice to get your opinion." She refrained from starting an outright argument with anything too biting but her disapproval of the other woman was now nothing less than obvious.
She actually laughed, a sharp, short sound, when the subject of the other woman's teaching came into play. "Oh, what a shock. I never would have guessed." Though her tone didn't sound completely sarcastic, it was easily implied. Boring subject for a boring person, how predictable is that? That's how she saw anyone that acted the way that Thaddea did: boring, uninteresting, and completely a waste of a good conversation. She drew her head back at the comment. "Well excuse me, do I look fat to you?" It was a good thing that Rin had never been incredibly conscious about her weight, else Thaddea's comment might have been taken much more to heart and misconstrued from the fact that it was. She knew she didn't need to lose weight, however, and decided to use this to her advantage in the conversation that was quickly scaling upward to something a little more. "You can sit and eat your rabbit food all you want, doesn't mean the rest of us have to do it." She scoffed. Maybe the bitch had problems with her weight? Hell if she knew. Hell if she cared. All she knew was that a quarter pounder tasted one hell of a lot better than a clusterfuck of lettuce and vegetables. She'd never been a big fan of healthy foods and Rin was therefore lucky that her metabolism was kind to her. Not that she took this into account. She simply assumed that it was because she was amazing, plain and simple.
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Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Oct 1, 2012 14:56:23 GMT -5
scattered across the coast It seemed as if the two women were speaking different languages. While Thaddea often “struggled” in conversation by the standards of modern society, this conversation was an exception. Everything she said appeared to be exactly the opposite of what was acceptable. In Thaddea’s opinion, she answered only what was required. But her fellow faculty member appeared to be increasingly infuriated. The woman had a temper, and Thaddea found herself wondering which element the woman belonged to. Her temper and demeanor suggested Fire in Thaddea’s opinion, but then again she was highly biased. Ms. Ravenhill was in fact a Wind, a fact that would have been both surprising and utterly expected. Thaddea herself was a Wind, and she knew better than anyone that within their element – they ranged drastically. She shifted her empty bowl slightly to the side, folding her hands on the table. It was all quite prim and proper. “I in fact have no fashion experience at all.” She had always found sarcasm an annoying habit, one that irritated her highly. In most instances, she refused to acknowledge it, and in fact answered it as if the statement/question had been meant in all seriousness – as she was now. She found it discouraged the use of the uncouth habit altogether.
She had let the previous comment sit. She had no desire to delve further into this conflict, and hoped it would simply cease to exist if they moved past it. She’d read that somewhere. One of her fellow faculty had suggest a book to her, one about social behavior. It had been meant as a mocking insult of sorts, though Thaddea had taken the suggestion literally. She’d actually found some of it quite reasonable, though nearly impossible to implicate in her every-day interactions with her peers and fellow faculty members. It was a work in progress. She noticed with some irritation that the other woman had refused to use her title, or even a prefix of “Ms.” She found it highly insulting. But perhaps the other woman had misunderstood her – had thought that Melantha was her first name. It was an understandable error, one which Thaddea endeavored to correct. “Actually my last name is Melantha,” She paused, thinking back to the book. Use first names to create an easier atmosphere. She’d never actually done this, highly uncomfortable with the use of first names herself. She attempted to now, though the discomfort flashed on her face and in the shifting of her body. “My first name is Thaddea,” She paused again, adding as an awkward tack-on. “Rin.” I was awkward, but perhaps it would be an instance where it was “the thought that counts”.
The conversation was going from bad to worse. And though Thaddea wasn’t growing particularly fond of the woman – she had no desire for any anonymity between the two of them. Such a thing was highly unprofessional. But if something wasn’t done, she had the feeling an all out brawl would be instigated, and likely not by her. She shook her head at the comment. She hadn’t meant to insult the other woman at all. She’d seen it as simply stating a fact. Fast food had a direct correlation with weight gain. It had nothing to do with Ms. Ravenhill at all. She answered in her same monotone, again awkwardly using the other woman’s name. “That wasn’t my insinuation at all, Rin.” She glanced at the other woman outright. In contrast, Caterina was likely what men saw as “ideal”. She was thin, had a very flattering figure. She glanced at her own empty bowl, deciding not to reply to the veiled insult. Her food likely was precisely what a member of the Lagomorph order would enjoy. But it also happened to be something she greatly enjoyed. It was simple, predictable. It never changed. And it was exactly what Thaddea needed, what she desperately needed. It was consistant, never-changing. But how could she expect a stranger to understand?
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Post by CATERINA MELODY RAVENHILL on Oct 4, 2012 5:59:13 GMT -5
As a very sarcastic person who didn't take anything literally unless she felt like it, Caterina didn't know whether or not Thaddea was mocking her with the calm and honest reply. She could have been doing it to confuse Rin intentionally, though something about the way it had been said suggested otherwise. What the fuck? Not that Rin was slow, she wasn't stupid, but the history professor was of a sort that the drama teacher wasn't used to dealing with. She was used to the way out there eccentric types that she dealt with on a daily basis, not a methodical person like Thaddea who was seemingly devoid of the ability to sass. Maybe she thought it was immature? Ugh, Rin had met a lot of those professor types who looked down their noses at anything that didn't go exactly according to their plans and ideals. It was usually the older ones, stuck in the past as Rin always told herself. There was one who refused to use a computer and that was something the redhead couldn't understand at all. How could anyone be bothered doing everything by hand? She hoped Thaddea wasn't too extreme like that, it was a lot harder dealing with someone who outright baffled her than someone she could understand, no matter how small the understanding. "Then don't try to give me advice on my shoes." Instead of mocking Thaddea further, this simple statement served as her comeback. When she wasn't sure of how to handle a situation she acted like she was completely comfortable with it. It usually worked.
The other woman wasn't taking any of the bait that Rin had tossed into the water, which to her had seemed to deepen by the second. Instead the professor seemed like she was trying to avoid a fight, something that Caterina was not often found doing. She was a bit of an instigator due to her love of drama but it was hard to carry out an argument if the other party wasn't in the mood. Huh. She still didn't quite know what to make of her and her expression displayed this the moment she was corrected on the use of the woman's name. What, does she think I didn't know that? Rin was incredulous. Surely the insult hadn't skipped right over her head, right? Unbeknownst to Rin, Thaddea was actually trying to justify her rudeness. Instead of insisting that she'd known, Rin decided to use this to her advantage. If she wasn't going to get a confrontation out of it she might as well save face, right? Lying was something she was pretty good at. Something she prided herself on, even if it wasn't the best skill to be a natural at. "Oh. It did sound like a bit of a weird first name, yeah." Not that 'Thaddea' sounded particularly mainstream. What the hell language is that from? She decided to ask, feeling satisfied when her first name was used. She hated being called Ravenhill, no matter what polite title was tacked on to the front. "Is that German or something?" She was probably way off but hell, Rin didn't claim to be an expert on culture or anything like that. Her own name wasn't English either but she'd never cared to look up its origin. She hated it no matter where it was from, simply because of who it was attached to.
She was at a loss of what to do with the other woman's responses, how to fire back with her own. People were usually predictable. If you spat venom at them, they spat back, and the confrontation that ensued could be a joy to watch and to partake in. She didn't deal with a whole lot of people who said absolutely nothing in return. Was it out of kindness or was Thaddea one of those types that thought that ignoring a problem could make it go away? That was actually how Rin usually dealt with reactions like hers. If there was no source of entertainment she'd move on to the next one like a bumblebee buzzing from flower to flower. Except today she had a lunch to finish and she was actually quite hungry. She took her fast metabolism for granted. She didn't think she could eat what she had labelled as 'rabbit food' because it didn't taste like anything at all appetising. Unsurprisingly, Rin wasn't a fan of vegetables either. Some fruits, like strawberries, could be all right. It all depended. "Well, whatever, then." She shrugged her shoulders. It was bothersome to her that she couldn't think of anything sharper than that without sounding like the only one with a problem. She wouldn't continuously mock someone that didn't fight back, that made her look like an idiot. She'd come here to learn about what Thaddea had done to her student (if he was indeed her student, it was possible he'd been a random guy) but if that wasn't going to happen she was at least going to enjoy the rest of her food.
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Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Oct 11, 2012 11:33:21 GMT -5
scattered across the coast She was quite sure that, by this point in time, she’d all but massacred whatever conversation her peer had desired to engage in. It figured, really. Since her rather hasty departure from her previous life, she’d changed, altered slowly. It had been so slow, almost imperceptible. In her desire to remain anonymous, in her utter lack of trust for those around her, she’d begun ignoring social norms. She’d ignored them until she no longer understood them. Perhaps it hadn’t been the wisest of choices, but it was something she couldn’t go back on now. She’d become professional to a faul, often lost in common conversation. She held disdain for such things as sarcasm and aggression. But where previously she had ignored them, perhaps replied with seriousness in order to convey her annoyance, now it was as if she didn’t pick up on it. Such a thing was a concerning fact, one that made her lips twitch just a millimeter from there firm pressed position. Their current conversation had been meaningless. Nothing appeared to have been gained but for a bad mood and an annoyed fellow staff member. Thaddea was left perplexed. Why were they even talking about shoes? She was sure she didn’t care.
So why were they bothering to engage in the conversation? The entire process made her head hurt. She looked down at her empty bowl, her carefully folded fingers. She didn’t truly give a damn what shoes Caterina wore. She could wear nothing at all. Yes, it would be improper and rather scandalous. But in the end, if anything it would simply make Thaddea look better by comparison – more perfect, more professional. Yet the shoes did bother her. She wanted to fix it, itched to reach out and do something, though she hadn’t the slightest idea of what it was she would do. It was an impulse of sorts. Unbeknownst to her it was actually the “compulsive” part of her obsessive compulsive disorder. But as Thaddea had refused to acknowledge any such insinuations in the past, this didn’t even occur to her. Instead she nodded her head, slow and understanding, appeasing. She considered speaking. She wasn’t entirely sure a reply was required or desired. Her choice reply would be to agree to this stipulation, yet another part of her still urged the woman to at least put her shoes back on. In the end, she settled for silence.
She was itching to leave, to depart. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable – anxious for a reason that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Perhaps it was the way Rin looked at her, that expression in her eyes. She’d never been comfortable with such intimate conversation, barely with conversation at all. She was always afraid they would ask something, or she would say something by accident. She was afraid that somehow, some way, they would connect her back to Phillipa Rothschild, that someone would snap their fingers and utter those dreaded words “I knew I recognized you”. Because that was when people would come, with their uniforms and flashing lights. It was a recurrent nightmare. She cleared her throat, doing her best to focus simply on Rin’s words, focus on them and obliterate everything else. “It’s Greek, actually.” She was hesitant to even give that much. How many Greek families lived in Canada? Could she be traced by the origin of her name? No. She had to remind herself, had to remain calm. She straightened, even more rigid than usual. She reminded herself that in four minutes, her allotted time for lunch would be over. Yes, it would be done.
She relaxed slightly. And then she would move into the next part of her schedule. It would be her time for correcting papers. And she would move through each part of her schedule. She would return home and clean Thomas’ room (as he had recently allowed her to do). She would label his drawers, and set up the little pencil tin that she had bought him at the office supply store. She would cook whatever dinner was scheduled for that night. And everything would be just as it had been for the past three years. Rin would never make the connection, no one would. Zachary wouldn’t come looking for her. She repeated those things over and over to herself. Because she needed to believe them. Because she needed them to be true. She swallowed, speaking suddenly. It was an impulsive part of speech, unintended and likely careless, but it was done all the same. “The student, who approached me, wasn’t one of my own.” She waved a hand as she had seen others do dismissively, though it looked somewhat robotic done by her. “He was rude and seemingly unintelligent. When he presented no immediate need of me, I sent him away.”
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Post by CATERINA MELODY RAVENHILL on Oct 11, 2012 23:00:39 GMT -5
Luckily for Thaddea, Rin's perceptive and overly curious nature did not border on omniscience in any way. She was oblivious to the thoughts that raced through the mind of her coworker as she confessed where her name had came from. She did not assume that Thaddea was Greek, either. Her family had Irish roots, she'd been born in Canada, and yet her name was Italian. Instead of asking further questions, Rin just nodded in acknowledgement of the answer. Caterina was an incredibly talkative and social woman but she was not blind to the lack of friendliness in the other. Just as she was unaware of Thaddea's heritage she also didn't understand why the professor was so uncomfortable in conversation but that did not stop her from making her silent judgements. She wasn't proving to be as entertaining as Rin had hoped in zoning in on the confrontation with the student and that was disappointing. The Wind elemental lived for the thrill of being in the middle of the action. She was the type that would go out into the street barefoot at four in the morning if there was a commotion across the street from her building. She stuck her nose where it didn't belong. Her father used to tell her that, "curiosity would eventually kill the Cat", a phrase Rin had always hated since she couldn't stand the nickname. Her attraction to drama had not killed her yet and her irrational bravery meant that she would not stop until it did.
The answer to her initial question was delayed and unexpected but the red-haired woman still paid attention to it. She noted the words that were used and scoffed at the words used. "You're so kind to the students." It was sarcasm, a hit to the 'seemingly unintelligent' comment, but she sounded delighted rather than disapproving. Caterina had never been overly fond of the student population. She didn't like her job because it forced her to teach others to follow a dream that had once been hers and this instilled a bitterness within her. That wasn't why she hated them, however. She'd never been good at treating people with respect and the fact that her students didn't seem to respect her a lot of the time made it worse. She wasn't allowed to hurt or threaten students, she wasn't even allowed to swear at or insult them, so she settled for hating their guts. Some of her better students could win her over with their talent but those were diamonds in the rough. A rarity. "What would he have wanted, anyway, if he wasn't one of yours?" When Rin had been in school she'd avoided the teachers and professors both like the plague unless she needed to talk to them for whatever reason. She didn't like authority, never had and likely never would. It was strange to be one of the people she'd once laughed about as she skipped classes with her friends. She'd come a long way and yet it was the exact opposite of where she wanted to be. It irritated her.
The bell did not catch her by surprise but it was certainly quite loud as it clanged up in its tower. She did not bother counting the amount of times it rang, knowing what time it would be based on the fact that meals always ended at the same time. Apart from that, she had a phone that could tell her the time without the suspense. "Well, I have a class to berate, so I'll catch you later." It was with that informal but not entirely unfriendly greeting that she took her leave. She'd eaten a fairly large meal and so she wasn't worried about running out of energy but her sanity was another matter entirely. She didn't know how she'd managed to keep her job for this long. Next year would be her third teaching and she was almost proud of herself for not snapping and trying to strangle a student. One of these days, she thought to herself with dry humour as she slipped her heels back onto her feet and set off toward her classroom, the heels clicking loudly against the stone floor of the castle.
[It can end with either this post or yours, I don't mind either way -- it just seemed a good place to end.]
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