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Since she didn't have the advantage of being silent, Calintha decided that she would have the advantage of being smart. At the initial flurry of jingling noises as the students all ran, the girl tucked herself away into a corner and stood still. She tucked the arm with the bell up, making sure that no sudden movements would jar it into life.

It was certianly interesting though, watching from a removed standpoint. All of the Polo's were running around, being chased by the three Marco's (man, Dr. Wes better make sure he's carefully where he puts his hands as he blindly grabs for students!) who were flailing about with their blindfolds. It was an interesting take on the assignment, though it made Calintha wonder why someone wouldn't just pull a 'fish out of water' and take off their bell.

Or, you know, stand still, like she was. Either way, Cali was content to just stand and watch, aware of her surroundings in case someone decided to get too close.

Perry was currently engaged in an attempt to stalk and bring down the elusive wild Gabbie, which was sort of an amusing thing to watch: he had his hands tenatively extended in front of him at what was more or less an average shoulder height for a student, and was creeping carefully forward with each swing of the crutches, and pausing momentarily to listen whenever Gabbie stopped.

This was interrupted, however, by Vanessa calling to him -- his head swung around, and above the blindfold one could make out a pitched eyebrow. "Hold that thought, Rae," he answered, "or better yet, keep thinking about it while you try not to get eaten."

Then he went back to stalking poor Gabbie.

Dr. Wes's answer was less than satisfactory, and Vanessa opened her mouth to tell him so, but was stopped short when Tate's blindfolded face came flying out of nowhere like a bat out of hell. Only probably not that intimidating. She shrieked in surprise and darted out of the way, avoiding the other girl's fingertips by little more than an inch.

The bell flopped uselessly against the fabric of her t-shirt, but Vanessa had forgotten about it. She loved games, no matter how childish, and was excited about this. If classes kept up like this, biology would quickly become her favourite subject.

"POLO!" She yelled at Tate, sniggering under her breath, and danced out of reach.

Tate caught herself, a little awkwardly. Her first impulse was to yell <******** she was in class. That sort of thing got you written up, and besides that she was going to get freaking Vanessa Rae if it was the last thing she did.

Urgh.

The idiot was still talking. Didn't she know that the whole point was not to get caught. But then--Tate picked herself up. "Maaaarco!"

If everything went according to plan, Vanessa would answer again.

"Aw yessssss!" Carter clenched his fist before throwing it up and into the air in a victorious pump. THIS was how class should be like! For him, at least. It was really too bad that math classes these days didn't let you run around after various students with numbers taped to their backs to solve problems ala Number Muncher, or even let you out of your seat in the first place for that matter. Nevertheless, today would be a day that highlighted the entire week for Carter.

The boy turned vaguely in Dr. Wes' direction as he told them the rules. So... he just had to blindly run after the sound of the bells? That should be easy! When the bells started chiming, Carter began running forward in response.

TCHUNMP!

...Right into the bleachers.

"Aagh! Ow, ow, ow!" He hopped backward and shook his leg out, peering down through his blindfold. Right, he did have his little window, didn't he? "That didn't count!" He announced, waving his hand as if to dismiss the incident. "That totally didn't count!"

Nursing his stinging pride and dignity, the boy first hobbled, paused, shook his leg again, then began stalking the elusive jingling bells. A lucky lunge managed to land him his first victim, while a repeated attempt allowed him to perform an impressive belly-flop onto the ground. "Owww. Okay, that didn't count either! Aaaugh."

Dr. Westerman had paused again in tune with Gabbie's short moment of silence, his head tilted quizzically in the the direction he had last heard the sound in. For anyone who cared to look, his expression was a bit comically serious, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he kept an ear out for all the noise happening in the field -- to be fair, as their supervisor he had an obligation to pay more attention to everyone, but still -- Carter clanging against the bleachers was something that cut into the teacher's focus altogether, and for a second his hand wavered over his blindfold just in case anything had gone amiss.

The kid sounded like he was alright, though, if not a little pridewounded. "Careful, kiddo," he called out anyway, "I don't wanna end up giving you a piggyback ride to the nurse's office if I can help it."

It had been a good few minutes by this point and about half of the class had ended up on the bleachers, taking advantage of Perry's temporary case of blindness to check and send off text messages. There was also a small stack of question worksheets on the end of the front row for ousted students to fill out or look over while they waited, which were taken and scanned with varying degrees of interest or listlessness.

Gabbie was jingling away for those couple of seconds at those loose strands of hair, and their teacher was back on the prowl, having reached out and tagged another ringer or two while closing the distance (for a man who seemed so slow and relaxed all the time, he had the reflexes of a cobra). Depending on how fast Gabbie could react, Calintha's warning might have been a second too late -- Perry's hand was just a handful of inches away from tapping the girl on the wrist.