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 Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 8:32 am
"Mister Dalry, please."
Ursula Johnson smiled at the secretary, her teeth as white and sparkling as the woman's on the Orbitz gum commercial. In her mind, however, she was scowling. This poor example of a woman was not how a secretary was supposed to act! The old bat was actually working, of all things, and using a computer to boot! And, god, what was that smell? Was that moth balls she smelled coming from the woman's desk? Who in the world still used moth balls, and why in the world had she allowed herself to come into work, of all places, stinking of such? Is this how all school secretaries were supposed to be? God, she hoped not.
The elderly woman sitting before her gave the younger woman a nasty look. Apparently they could read minds as well.
"I'm afraid Mr. Dalry is in a session at the moment."
The smile quickly curved downward as Ursula tapped her foot impatiently, the rhythm keeping in time with the letter she was tapping on the desk.
"Well he'll just have to get out of his session then, Miss..." eyes roamed across the desk, finally settling on a rather simple looking nameplate, "Edwards. I'm Ursula Johnson his... cousin. I need to discuss something important with him."
"I know who you are, you're the Hillworth receptionist," Ms. Edwards was quick to snap, her emphasis on the term receptionist sounding as terrible as if she'd meant the word tramp. Of course, it didn't help that rumors had spread like wildfire across the entire Destiny City school system when news of Gunn Killingworth, Hillworth teacher, had gotten engaged to his secretary, of all people. How scandalous, indeed! "He's in room fifty-five A, but as I said, he's in a session."
Having had quite enough of the woman's poor attitude as it was, Ursula merely let out a small hmph along with a curt "I'm a secretary, not a receptionist, thanks." before she made her way off and wandering the halls of Crystal, school of women and snobbery.
Another ten minutes and she would eventually find herself stumbling across the translucent window with a large fifty-five labeled on it, and one well manicured hand rose to rap on the door loudly.
"Rooooohan darling, it's me!"
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 10:37 am
Rohan hated the winter season. He really, really hated the winter season. Not only was it cold (not to mention the godawful snow), but the holidays coming usually meant he was called in to work. He was in charge of extra credit lessons AND those lessons that had been arranged for the few students that were struggling to keep up. At the moment, he was currently supervising the later type, and it was greatly frustrating him. Mostly because he'd been through this particular text over ten times and there was still one dark haired girl in one of the front seats that was still looking at him like he'd just talked in some sort of foreign language, "Did you get any of that?" he waited for a beat before the girl sloooooowly shook her head no and Rohan refrained from slapping the palm of his hand which wasn't covered in chalk over his face, "Alright then, let's start again, from the top. I'll go slowly this tim-"
He was interrupted when a knock was heard, effectively cutting his voice off. In all honesty, he'd had half a mind to ignore the interruption and continue right on with the lesson, but the sweet sing song voice caused him to stiffen visibly, the chalk he'd been holding falling right out of his hand as he murmured a low, "Oh, god please no," he looked around the classroom and would have considered jumping out the window had they not been on the 3rd floor of the building.
Not answering was actually not an option because he knew the woman well enough to know she would happily allow herself in and possibly drag him out with her. Thus, resigned to his fate, he let out a sigh and turned to look at the students that were watching him like he'd grown an extra head for some reason, "Just... just continue reading the passage we were trying to finish and attempt to answer the questions at the end of the chapter. I'll be back," he murmured as he went towards the door, "Hopefully," he added after a pause, "But I wouldn't count on it."
Opening the door, he slipped out and gave Ursula a sour look; and that coupled with the fact he looked like he had just crawled out of bed and the fact he was wearing different colored socks... spoke out volumes, "I was trying to teach a lesson," trying being the keyword.
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 12:40 pm
"Oh darling, I had no idea they'd bumped you up to teaching full-time; that's so precious!"
One hand rose up to pat his cheek like a mother would a child, and then both arms moved up to encircle around the older man in a forced hug, "I'm so happy for you Roho! You know that I used to be a teacher, right?"
Rohan knew all about Ursula's experience at Barren Pines. In fact, there was little of Ursula's experience when it came to schools, much less teaching, that he wasn't aware of by this point. Rohan Dalry was twenty-two years old. Ursula Johnson was twenty-two years old. When Ursula Johnson discovered there was a Negaverse agent of the same age as herself (a six month difference, to be exact), she had made it her mission to befriend Rohan Dalry. Once she discovered what an absolute social (and fashionable) mess he was, he'd quickly become a pet project for her to work on. Granted, he hadn't heard from her in quite some time thanks to the busy nature of the Negaverse, but with the wedding soon approaching, it had been time for to pay a visit to see Mr. Dalry.
"It's okay, I'll help you escape that stuffy class of yours," she assured him confidently, deciding she would rehash her teacher times with him at a later point, "Though, please tell me the students there at least know how to dress better than you."
One hand automatically shot out to straighten up his shirt and then up to his hair. This was exactly why she had to deliver her letter in person. This poor soul was simply doomed without her.
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 10:11 am
Rohan was once more contemplating tossing himself out of the nearest window just to escape Ursula - third floor be damned. He could heal broken bones, he was sure it would be less painful than having to endure this torture.
Alas, something also told him it was possible the girl would wait for him to crash land on the floor, then happily skip down the stairs and drag him away regardless of broken bones. Which meant he'd have to endure her torture session in physical pain. He let out a small sigh as he realized he was going to have to succumb to her will once again, "I'm not teaching full-time. Most of the staff has the luxury of having vacation, so they're mostly just using me a whipping boy, and-" he cut himself off and the way his face wrinkled up into a strange expression somewhere between confusion and dry humor seemed to voice he did not understand WHY the girls having a better fashion sense than he did... would help them academically, "What, exactly, is them being better dressed going to achieve anyhow?" he had to ask, he really just had to know.
Of course, he was regretting his question as soon as it slipped past his lips. Maybe he should just shut his mouth and not open it till she left; maybe it would be beneficial for his sanity if he just allowed her to do whatever it was she'd come here to do and then quietly sneak away while she was distracted. In all honesty, he was trying to calculate the probability he had of success and the outcome was not good.
Taking into account he was taller than her, they made for an awkward picture, what with him having to bend slightly to allow her to pat his cheek. Not to mention how absolutely awkward he looked as he endured her hug and then waited for her to sort of his clothes and hair. He was refusing to point out how long his hair was and how impossible it was going to be for her to tidy him up in 2 minutes, "I'm wearing a pony tail. It's fine. Really," he knew it was futile but he was still attempting anyhow, "I ... don't think 'escaping' the classroom is a good idea - what are you planning anyhow?" he was by now, looking for possible escape routes.
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Posted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 9:09 am
"Planned, not planning, dear," she corrected and then let out a defeated sigh at his resistance. Honestly, the man was such a mess, it was a wonder how he'd managed to survive this long on his own, without her there to help.
Reaching down, she took hold of one wrist and used her other hand to shove the letter she'd been holding into his captive hand. "My wedding is coming up, remember? And you have to be there. You're my friend. Friends go to other friends' weddings, or else certain friends who also happen to be queens of certain powerful organizations get upset. And it's not nice to upset those sort of friends."
Her words could have been taken as a threat, but her expression was unmistakably playful. "And, since you are attending my wedding, you're going to have to actually look nice. Which means your hair gets to be fixed, you get to wear a suit, and for god's sake, wear matching socks for once."
She glanced down the hallway idly and then turned to look down the other end. No teachers or students in sight. Good.
"We can go now, dear, to pick you out an outfit? And a date, oh Lord, Rohan, we have to find you a date! I'm pretty sure Aree is still available. You remember Aree? Tall, purple hair, grey eyes?"
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Posted: Wed May 19, 2010 8:00 am
Planned? Already? He really did not like the sound of that, and it seemed to show on Rohan's face as he looked down at her, unsure of how to approach the situation. On one hand, he'd come to notice that Ursula was, quite possibly, the nearest thing he had to a friend (Which was a terrifying thought, all on it's own), and thus he really didn't want to upset her. On the other hand though, the woman could be overbearing, to put it lightly. He wasn't sure he wanted to subject himself to something she'd planned without his consent.
Blinking in confusion, he watched as she grabbed his wrist and then shoved a letter into his hand. He barely had time to look at the envelope when she mentioned her wedding; of course he knew. He was pretty sure there wasn't a single negaverse agent that didn't know about it. He opened his mouth, no doubt to say something in protest, but as soon as Ursula stopped talking and looked at him, he found himself just snapping it shut, closing his eyes and sighing in defeat.
Fine.
He could endure a wedding (and all the preparations that came along with it - he had little doubt he was going to be dragged around for days before the silly event). A frown crossed his features, "I like my socks," he argued, looking mildly offended, "And I... had little time to prepare myself this morning. Besides, it's very hard to tell dark blue and black apart in the dead of morning!" it wasn't his fault, honest! He tried!
"But.. there's..." he motioned towards the classroom behind him as she mentioned leaving to get him a new outfit. Of course, whatever he'd been thinking crashed into a proverbial mountain side as soon as she mentioned the word 'date', "But... I... what?! Surely you don't mean Tanza- er... Ursula!" okay, now he was no longer scared. He was downright panicked.
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