Welcome to Gaia! ::

Zac let out a sigh that suggested his patience with the assigned project, had already run out the moment that they had been handed the paper with the poem they were to analyze. It wouldn’t be so frustrating if the professor in question wasn’t absolutely sure that every poem had exactly the same meaning,

Meet at the library, after classes, at the table in the back by the window, near the poetry books. He hadn’t really … spoken to his partner before, so this should be interesting.

He checked the time on his phone and realized he was early, and laid his head down on the desk.

“Why…. Why did I take the –class- on poetry?” He cursed himself.

He jerked back to a sitting position at the books hitting the desk.

“Hi! Sorry, you startled me! Umm… No, no nap, not here, I mean not for me.”
“Though to be fair, to pass –this- class we just have to match our teacher’s foregone conclusion.”

HI… Um… It was Hana right? Sorry, I’m Zac. Ah…at least it could be worse, right?”

There might be blushing….

Might.

“Y-yeah.” He stammered, feeling strangely, and momentarily disorganized. He fished in his bag and pulled out several notebooks, plucking at them to peer at the notes inside because for a moment he couldn’t remember the color cover he’d used for that class in particular.

One of them at least was shut more quickly than the others and stuffed back into the bag while trying to look casual. But if she DID grab his ‘Other Ashdown’ book, perhaps he could pass it off as ‘creative writing’ rather than ‘general insanity’.

“I-…I mean most of the time when he does the class discussion he kind of implies the same thing.” He hesitated and shook his head frowning at the notebooks, and finally turned up the one he was looking for, plucking the purple covered notations of boredom and laying it open.

“But I… I admit I’ve tended towards a little argumentative rather than believe that every poet has the same psychology and any reflection on love or nature is just an obfuscated reference to underlying depression. I mean, yes some were but even his dissertation I found about the… the poem with the birch trees.”

He was rambling.

‘He is –utterly- opposed to Homosexual subject, He’s also opposed to not conforming to social norms.” He grumbled. There might be a reason he wore some of his more ‘Girly’ clothes to that class when he was feeling particularly feisty. I’m fairly sure that if he were given the chance he’d write a thesis on how ‘The Gays’ are ruining literature by making him think.”

He turned a rather vivid red after he said that, but she did catch his attention with ‘going off the rails.’

“…. I mean, it’s a group project, If you’re okay with it…. I don’t want you to get flunked out if this is going to be a make or break grade for you…”

He glanced over her hand writing, he had to quirk a smile at the fact it got bigger as she got to the margins of the notebooks.

“I um…” He stammered over sensei though. “I’m not sure what I… I mean I just sort of do. I used to get bigger at the ends like this though.” He tapped her notebook with a finger.

“I, sort of cheated I guess, I used steno books for a super long time, they aren’t as wide across and they really sort of suit this really nice, bullet point organizing that you have.”

He thought for a moment, did he have one in his bag? He always had SOME things to write in, possibly too many. He collected things with nice paper that weren’t just books, if only because sometimes you wanted to save what you had found in said books.

“Umm..” He dug in his shoulder bag, shoving aside umbrella, ashdown kit, cat treats. And pulled out a flip pad of yellow paper. It was smaller than your standard notebook, the paper a soft yellow with green lines.

“Here.” He offered to her.

“You can use it for today’s notes, if it helps then you can keep it, if not you can just take the pages, sound alright?”


Um, speaking of 'They or Them or...' he waved a hand. "Do, you have a preference? I mean, only because class isn't the most conducive place to ask unless you're counting how many throbs you can get out of that one blood vestal in his neck."

He hesitated and then gave a cautious shrug. “I… I sort of don’t mind most of them.” He bit at his lip.
“Which I don’t mean as derogatory for those who do, I just… I’m used to ‘He’, but I do like it when people say She, and no one has ever really used ‘they’”

He bit at his nail and stared at the notebooks.

“Is that bad? It, always feels like it’s probably bad when I say it.”

The odd look was met with a measured one and he turned back to the task at hand.

"Yeah." He said simply. "Are we going to opt to be in his face or are we going to bat for a decent grade?"

“Well, I’d love to say end of year reviews will come around, but I am pretty sure he has Tenure.” he sighed. “Which may be why you can almost do his papers with a formula for what goes where.”

He sighed and flipped to a clear notebook page.

“if we summarize it here, like a rough draft on paper I can type it up? After Darlene’s I mean.” He said with a small sheepish smile.

-
He flipped through pages till he had one that seemed to satisfy him, and readied to make the notes for the paper.