I BEG FOR YOUR PITY // PROFESSOR GRACE

[marissa]

The sun was setting as dusk approached the school. With the winter season blowing in hard, the students knew better than to risk being outside for long periods of time. Snow dusted the entrance way floors before it slowly began to melt from the heat of the interior of the building. The tree branches dropped cold flakes from the branches, looking as though they were visibly shaking from the cold of the unforgiving British Columbia weather. The outside of the building was becoming a shadow of itself in the dark of dusk.

Aura quickly approached the building, trying desperately to escape from the cold. She never enjoyed being at a low temperature but she would rather being cold and have the ability to warm up than feel burning hot like some fire elementals. At times, she didn’t see how they were able to stand the temperate in their dormitories. She hugged her bag close to her chest, trying to gain any warmth that she could before she stepped inside the building.

Immediately, her glasses fogged from the temperature difference. She let out a small sigh from her slightly parted lips, taking them off and stuffing them in the front pocket of her black book bag. She let it hang off her shoulder, hefting it heavily down the hall to the teacher’s lounge. She had a lot of grading to do and she realized, surrounded by her books, her tv and her laptop, she would have a pretty hard time concentrating on grading her papers. So, why not come to the academy and sit in silence while she caught up on some grading? Lord knows she needed too. Some of her students were getting restless to know their grades. And she understood their concern. As a former academy student herself, some classes required constant knowledge of what your grade was so you’d know how to do. Of course you should always try your best but when you have an overload of classes, at times you don’t always aim for an A.

Walking through the hallways, her body temperature began to rise slowly but surely. At times like this, she wished she was a fire elemental-or at least had one with her-then she’d be able to warm up quicker. But as a thunder elemental, there was really nothing more she could do but wait. And Aura was not one for patience. Unless it was with a student, it didn’t come naturally. Most things she did, they were done quickly. She drove quickly, ate quickly and even taught quickly. On numerous occasions, her students have asked her to slow down. She’s caught herself a couple of times but it’s a habit that’s hard to break. Maybe that explained why she had three speeding tickets on her record.

In the midst of her thinking, she realized she had passed the teacher's lounge. Rolling her eyes, she turned around and practically jogged to the room; again with the quickness. Opening the door, she was hit with the scent of coffee and paper along with the wave of heat that was trapped in the room. She shivered from the unexpected temperature difference and stepped in the room. Closing the door behind her, she sat down at a round table, setting her bag atop the table and walked over to the coffee pot. Grabbing a filter, she carefully placed it in the top of the coffee maker before pouring two cups of coffee grinds in. Making sure everything was in check, she pressed start before she heard it start. Smiling to herself, she went to the cabinets and opened the wooden door. Of course the cups were on the second shelf. Being five foot five didn’t have its perks. She stood on the tips of her toes and reached as high as she could. The tips of her fingers brushed the cup before it came fumbling down.

Seconds later, she yelped and a smash reverberated throughout the room as the cup shattered into tiny pieces around her feet. She silently thanked whoever resided up above that she was wearing long boots. Looking around, she saw a broom and dustpan in the corner by the refrigerator. Stepping over the ceramic pieces, she reached for it and began to sweep up her mess.

Minutes later, she checked her surroundings to make sure there was no left over glass. She didn’t want anyone getting hurt. After everything was checked, she placed the broom back and dumped the dustpan in the garbage before just grabbing a plastic cup and filling it halfway with black coffee. Striding to the fridge, she opened it up and saw no sign of half and half or creamer. “Are you kidding me?” She mumbled, her voice ringing like bells through the silent room. Slamming it closed, she looked for sugar which was sitting on the counter. Grabbing the pot of sugar, she dumped almost two tablespoons full into the plastic cup before settling down at the table. Hesitantly, she took a sip and almost gagged. It was like drinking wet dirt. Setting it to the side, she grabbed her bag and opened it up, pulling out a manila folder and a red pen. Flipping open the folder, she pulled out the answer key and the first batch of tests before taking a short breath and beginning to grade the long overdue papers.

Wordcount: 896
Tagged: Professor Grace
Notes: Sorry it took me so long! ): I suckkk
Music Muse: These Streets Are Alive by I The Mighty
Clothes: The threads!
Template by: Me but photo credit to GETOFFMYCAROUSEL ! at Caution 2.0

[MICHAELANGELO DONATELLO GRACE]

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tag ! marissa && aura allen ;; word count ! 9 2 7 ;; setting ! Academy faculty lounge ;; outfit ! slacks, button-down shirt, sneakers ;; [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

The scent of coffee was his. The warmth was because he’d gotten a friend who happened to be a fire elemental to heat up the room earlier, and the heat had fortunately remained, as he’d stoutly refused to open the windows or the refrigerator. He was fine with drinking his coffee black. He added only half a teaspoon full of sugar, and then he was finished with the preparation. He drank it for the caffeine, to keep him awake if he’d slept poorly, and he had. His dreams had been scouted by nightmares and enveloped in voices from faceless figures, much as his daily life happened to be. He despised that they had followed and plagued him in his dreams. Normally, sleep was a reprieve. Normally, sleep was an escape. Normally, the voices left him alone. Maybe he was just having what his mother liked to call an “episode”—that is, a brief period in which his symptoms were worse than usual. SO he blamed his jumpiness on that rather than the caffeine. The alertness on his paranoia rather than the sudden waking of the caffeine, regardless of his intentions behind drinking the beverage in the first place. To help with it all, he’d brought along an ashtray and his usual cigarettes, but this time, he had actually lit up, not much caring if smoking was even allowed in the faculty lounge. It wasn’t something he could be fired for. When she entered, his gaze went first to her hands, watching the folder she grasped, before they lifted to her face and searched for recognition. There was hardly any. Chances were, he’d seen her around but not had any particular interaction with her. He guessed the folder was either a planner for the curriculum or related to homework and thereby grading. For a rare time, he was caught up. As the nightmares had periodically interrupted his sleep the night before, he’d been able to get at least some work done, and this morning had been much the same, between breakfast and cigarettes and the coffee. He rubbed at his temple, watching her move, silent in his little corner as he observed her. She looked almost meticulous when it came to the coffee. He didn’t help her reach for the mug, nor was he surprised when it shattered. He watched the ceramic skid across the floor instead, though the majority of pieces remained at her feet. He watched her clean them up. Her gaze seemed to sweep nowhere near him as she searched for and found the broom. He watched her look around, guessed she was probably looking for more ceramic. There was a piece beside his shoe. It looked up at him and seemed to laugh. He looked back up, rubbing at his temple again. The shadows seemed to move around her, curling in and out, like a hand that was about to grab her and pull her into nothingness. It made him want to twitch. It made him nervous. He scratched at his jaw. He was rather amused, however, as she opened the refrigerator and seemed to find something much to her displeasure, and thereafter proceeded to dump enough sugar into her cup for at least four pitchers of kool-aid. But then, he wasn’t one for sweets, necessarily. They were okay every once in a while, but he wasn’t particularly interested. She looked rather horrified when she sat and dared to drink from the cup. He lifted an eyebrow mostly out of habit, and took a silent sip from his own coffee. It nearly burned his tongue, not having cooled much due to the remnant heat in the room. He hadn’t been here that long anyway. The coffee didn’t taste nearly as bad as her face made it seem, which made him smile crookedly to himself. He turned away again, and his gaze fell onto the piece of ceramic on the ground beside his food. It mocked him. It laughed at him. You’re crazy and you can’t change it. Amusement gone and all irritation, he grabbed the small shard, not caring that it might be sharp and cut him, slid out of his chair, and went to drop it into the trash can. He watched it fall into the dark pit. The trash can was empty except for the other shards that the blonde woman had cleaned up. He studied it, thinking for a minute that they were moving, but that couldn’t be. It couldn’t. He closed his eyes and rubbed at them with both hands. Visual hallucinations meant that he was having his episodes. It was usually only the paranoia and the voices, hearing things that weren’t there. The seeing was so rare… His eyes opened suddenly and he spun around, completely expecting her to have sneaked up on him with a weapon of some sort, his heart jumping into his throat and any self-defense he knew running through his mind like a racehorse. He swallowed uncomfortably. Address her. Speak to her. It’ll help calm you down. The one voice he actually liked whispered in his ear, and for a moment he appreciated the hallucinations. Elsa kept him calm. “So what do you teach?” he asked, gazing steadily at her and trying to loosen his muscles, which were quite explicably tense. He still felt like something was going to jump out at him, like someone was listening in on this barely-starting conversation. He hadn’t even asked for a name. They could use names if they got names. Names were better to avoid.

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notes ! sorry it took me so long >< He’s appropriately bothered, and will probably get worse as things go on ;;

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