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 Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 4:19 pm
It seemed that his friend was rather distressed, which warranted a glare towards the Kelpie from the dragon. He didn't know the whole story but he didn't like the fact that this guy was antagonizing Riley.
<<I don't know what's going on. But after class if you have time, do you want to go for a ride around town? Might help you get your mind off of things,>> he offered her quietly. Rubbing his head, he soon leaned back in his chair while looking towards the teacher, wondering how aware she was of all this conflict going on in her class. Hopefully she was completely oblivious.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 4:32 pm
He wasn't going to do a thing. He just wanted this class to be over with and to go back to his dry, boring room and sit. He could yell and shout all he wanted in there and no one would get upset. Maybe that's what he should start doing before he went to class. Huff a bit before waltzing into here. He still didn't feel he did anything wrong, but it seemed everyone else thought he did. Was he missing out on some strange rule about being OKAY with the people marking other people? He wasn't okay with it but it seemed fine with everyone else. Why was he the bad guy? Sure, he was loud, but he was making a point.
……then he thought about maybe getting in trouble, and he swallowed hard. Toeing the line there. You better shut up. He leaned back down, about to plop his head back down on the table again before a piece of paper was slid over to him. Stopping from laying his head down, he looked at the paper, and then up across from where it had been sent. It was the boil again. The Igor, as Riley had said.
Raising a brow, he leaned back and picked up the paper. It wasn't a note, but his report. He read slowly. His brow only creased more as he got more confused, and by the end of the short report, his face was set in a deep, troubled frown. Reaching into his pocket, e reached around for some paper and wrote on it, before sending it all back to Christof.Calder's Note This is the saddest thing I have ever read. You choose your own purpose. You don't need a master or a mistress to find that out. You should dump them. Then you can walk out whenever you wanted. C :
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 4:39 pm
It seemed that her ploy to look unavailable didn't work, but she couldn't blame her friend. He cared about her, and it showed. She barely lifted her head, her eyes meeting his, and then she nodded. This was all the response he would get, but it was enough. A ride on Jericho sounded like exactly the kind of distraction she needed to get her mind off of how terrible this day had been so far.
Then she put her head back down on the desk with a thump, and continued to act as though she was dead to the world.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 4:40 pm
The hunchback took the note back eagerly, curious what the mad horse-thing was thinking, and was not surprised by the reaction, although he was somewhat disappointed. He was PROUD of what he was! He came from a very fine heritage of servants, who also took pride in their work! On the back of the note, he quickly scribbled a response, face creased with concentration. Christofs Response You choose your Master. Their success is your success. Have you never felt the good feeling of helping others? Selfish. It seemed simple enough of a concept to HIM anyway. Aiming carefully, he folded up the paper and flicked it back across the table to the Water Horse.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 4:53 pm
He watched the Igor open up his note and read it, before he started to write back. Curious, he wondered what he would say. Would he get upset too? Would he report him to the teacher? Would he be happy to know he could do what he wanted without people like Riley to tell him when he could and couldn’t do something? He never talked to someone who was owned before, and he wondered why anyone would want it. From what his brief history had said, he was made for it, but that didn't mean he had to.
The note returned, and he looked at it before frowning. That – That wasn't what he meant at all! Taking his pen out, he started to find a free spot and wrote back. Messy Note Why can't you have your own success? Of course I help people. It's called being a friend. I don’t have to be owed by anyone to do that. Why should you? I'm not selfish!
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 5:02 pm
Christof managed to catch the note, glancing to make sure those around him weren't disturbed (or watching, with any luck). At least it seemed both upset students had quieted down to a reasonable volume. Igors like him were meant to be Seen, not Heard. He reread the note again, once more trying to understand what the boil meant. Finally, he started his reply on a blank spot, slowly as he tried to comprehend how to explain. He never had had to explain before! Usually people just... understood. Friendship in general was a hazy concept to the hunchback. A reply that bends around other replies in order to fit along the margin Rule 3. And "it is only through our help that our Master can achieve great things for Halloween Kind." Purpose. What is your purpose? A plow does not complain about plowing. Plowing is what it lives for.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 5:26 pm
"Good," Barth said. "Excellent."
He wasn't exactly sure what happened if you broke a Contract, but he was sure it wasn't good. Colette was also wearing perfume today. She reminded him of Lilith, a little, in that she was a competent Reaper and good with getting things done.
Of course, Lilith had a certain strong, sparkly, gooey je ne sais quoi, that Barth couldn't quite explain but definitely made him weak-kneed.
Turned in and everything. Very good.
"I'll come by as soon as possible. ...If the carrots don't stay gone, I'll find a way to contain them." He mostly planned on having Christof dig the carrots up. He'd play the rest by ear.
He stayed out of the conversation about masters, although he, like Christof, didn't distinguish between friends and servants very much.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 5:29 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 5:29 pm
Okay, why was it when he made a plough analogy, everyone got upset and yet Christof could do it. He got it! It made perfect sense. Christof was a work horse. Livestock. A domesticated animal that was used for doing work. Why did Riley get all huffy at him when he hit the nail right on the head? This was really confusing, and he was starting to get a headache too. This time around, however, there was no one willing to explain it to him, and why should he? He could just talk to the source and find out himself.
He wrote back on the note, brow furrowing as he TRIED to think of what the swamp-muck this was all about. Hasty scribbles that crawl and wave around other sentences and move around the angry owner scribbles What stupid rule is that?! Why does your master get to do the great things? Why can't he do it himself and you do your own great things? Then you both can do great things for the town. Isn't that better? And who said you were a plough? Ploughs are things. Like this piece of paper. You are a Igor. A creature that has feelings, can talk, love, hate, and feel. You do FEEL don't you? You move around and you're talking to me? Ploughs don't do that. Ploughs are tools and mean, nasty tools too.
Grab my paper from the pile. The name is Calder. It's in green.
Taking it, he folded it again and sent it over.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 5:53 pm
Christof caught and unfolded the note, only to look even more flustered by the response written within. How... how dare he! He started to write immediately, but stopped himself to glance around for any sign of the teacher before reaching for Calder's paper for a quick read.... although there was enough squeezed onto the paper to turn any quick read into a long read. Crammed into what space can be found in scribbly, enraged lettering We are different creatures. Being born, I suppose, is different than being created. We are told what we are here for. We get Things Done. If everyone was 'wild and free' then we would all turn into creatures like Master Barth and then Nothing would get Done. You must be a very fine kelpie, who's definition of self restraint I find very lacking, to be drowning what you call 'friends' at any given opportunity. If this is freedom, I fear it. A Master and an Igor share a deep trust. If not for Mistress Riley, I would have made a scene. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from a good Master. You are crazy and your thoughts cannot be trusted. Nostrils flaring, he wished he had worn his own scarf to class, but instead, tugged up his collar and cravat if only to get the message across before flicking the tiny paper football back to the kelpie.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 6:01 pm
Truly, Shehk was glad that someone had reeled the Kelpie in. Certainly the boy (yes, she'd at least figured out that much by then) was passionate about stuff, but none the less she propped her chin into one of her palms and made a slight face down the table. Not to say that to some extent she didn't understand what it was the Kelpie was protesting against.
She herself often, and quite loudly, threw up a huge fit about this idea that her kind (RE: UNDEAD) were just carrion or whatever it was that the damned Raum had called Sammy. None the less, she soon had to pass it off, sitting up straight in her seat and smoothing out the tops of her leggings to keep herself from slouching onto her one arm.
It was.... better that way. Yes. She was sort of glad she wasn't entirely privvy to whatever conversation.
"Well, that was interesting." she said dryly, a self-reminder about how she had been taught, by someone...she couldn't remember who, but none the less had been told 'Politics + Religion =/= Table conversation'.
"Like pulling teeth, perhaps."
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 6:06 pm
He took the football and, flicking the paper open, started to read. First, his ears dropped back, then his eyes widened just a bit more and more still as he continued to read until they pressed into saucers. Then his brow rose and then, when he was finished, his mouth just hanged open. He…..He……..He had no rebuttal to that. Not one! So instead, brain broken, he just stared with his face wide, mouth open, in a look of complete shock. Not only by the fact the Igor had been right, but because he brought up his very credibility in the entire thing as well. For someone who didn't even talk, Christof was a great debater, and certainly a good Igor as Calder has just been "served".
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 6:14 pm
Riley could not care what the two were gossiping about through the papers. The only issue she had with this little exchange was that every time the notes were passed from one boil to another, they had to pass right by her head. She had skillfully ignored it, to a point. It had finally come to a head now, and she lifted her head up, prepared to make some scathing remark to Christof - when she noticed that she could read the letter over Calder's shoulder. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she settled for reading what the two had been talking about.
She skimmed the most of the note, finding it hard to follow the random twists and turns that each sentence seemed to take when they ran out of space. It was a jumbled mess, to be sure - punctuated by images of - was that supposed to be her?! Her tentacles itched to writhe around Calder's neck.
When she got to the end, however, she found herself stunned. She had no idea just how much Christof appreciated her, as it was not really something she expected, or needed. Still, it was nice. It made her feel a strange little hurt in her chest, and she pressed down on the skin to try to stop it.
Her eyes flickered up to Christof, turning to crescents in lieu of a smile. She sent an affectionate nudge his way, but said nothing more about it.
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 6:41 pm
The hunchback shifted in his seat when it seemed the Kelpie was not going to respond, his mismatched brows furrowed in frustration still. He took the remaining aggression out on shuffling their reports back into the pile, his hands trembling until the gentle mental nudge came his way, and he glanced up to see his Kind, Forgiving Mistress's expression- what he had come to understand was her smile. Face flushed once more, he settled back in his chair, eyes on his hands on the table in front of him as he gave a weak, I am sorry for my Outburst before, Mistress. I am a bit muddled. He would be a good Igor. Otherwise, what was he?
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Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 7:31 pm
Colette's smile had disappeared as the drama unfolded, and she silently watched with wide eyes. Calder had surprised her again with another outburst, though it wasn't as alarming as trying to drown another student, and the Reaper again decided that he was certainly different from the time Dash Dating occurred. Colette couldn't help but feel maybe this was why the class existed in the first place. The last couple of outings she had weren't that safe or drama free. Nonetheless, It was an.. interesting first day in the class.
Her observation of the scene was only broken by Barth and she returned her attention to him, sounding distracted. "Oh, uh-huh.. Um, just call me before or something?"
She rolled her eyes at herself, realizing her mistake in that he didn't even know where her dorm was. Or, well, she hoped at least. Sort of. WELL. He shouldn't, she figured, but Colette wasn't sure she cared if he did. "I'm in the Reaper dorms of course.. Er, it might be easy to find. I don't know if I'm the only one with a mail slot in the door... I guess I could show you if you need me to," Colette offered to Barth awkwardly, putting some stress on the "need". She said it as if it was no big deal, or she didn't really find a need to, but the ghoul really didn't mind. Colette spoke in the pretend tone more to not seem weird.
The ghoul looked at him in anticipation and thought to herself about what she had just said, each thought coming up as if it were a race. Was that weird? She was pretty sure she hadn't shown anyone else her dorm yet, so he would be the first, and she pondered about an occurrence. His sister did think I was his ghoul friend. Then Colette's thought drifted to the other students that had been at the truth or dare, and she quickly glanced at all who attended that she could see. They didn't think so either, right? She started to feel self conscious. She wasn't supposed to portray things like that. Oh Jack, that might be why. Weird stuff life this. It seemed thinking too deep into things was one of the Reaper's specialties, and she started to feel nervous.
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