Welcome to Gaia! ::

Shahar did not want to have to be back at school. Not any school, at all, much less at Romano's Controversial Hellhole, or whatever it was technically called. Oh, she knew the proper name for it, same as she knew that she wouldn't be calling it a Controversial Hellhole anywhere that the people who ran it might be able to hear her. Even if all schools were Hellholes. Hellmouths. Whatever.

However, she was trying to be a good Samaritan, or had been one. It was all in the technicalities, again. While out at paintball over the past weekend, one of the other regulars had forgotten an accouterments that would be needed. As it wasn't part of a gun setup, he had asked that someone from the group bring it by the school for him. As Shahar was the only 'slacker with no job' she had accepted two hits off a fairly shitty joint to bring it by here at her first available opportunity.

Well, she had been volun-told; the joint was just a nice perk. No matter how she chose to look at it, however, the delivery had been made, and now Shahar was being nosy. Peering in doorways, staring through windows like a creepy creeper who creeped, turning up her nose at the cafeteria food... but finally she found a room which pleased her. Not the library. Not a classroom. It was only what she assumed to be...

The staff lounge. Shahar peered around this comfy little haven with wide eyes, more than mildly enthralled by the shiny microwaves, the refridgerator, the comfortable chairs, the stark, boring whiteness... Poor teachers. Even Shahar could only do so much. Maybe like redecorate a little? Those flyers looked very boring. a makeover could work nicely...

She strolled around the room, heeled boots clicking on the pristine floor, the only sounds in the room mechanical, or her. Leather pants making soft noises as the rubbed and stretched, the whisper of her hand over tables, the buzzing of the refrigerator that finally stopped. Calloused fingers trailed over Styrofoam cups that were out and about, and she noticed that the coffee was running out, but made no move to make a fresh pot.

There were footsteps coming closer and she paused, leaning up against the counter, turning to consider the door. Were they coming here? The steps seemed purposeful enough, and slowed; and then the door pushed open, and she wondered if she was about to get chucked out.

Mmmmmmm, a teacher. Full on nerdy, from the looks of it. Delicious. A bit older and male for her usual, but she sometimes did like to try something exotic. Pretty enough, with those big green eyes. She tilted her head, crossing one leather-wrapped leg in front of the other and considering him with open interest and curiosity.

"No sir," she drawled, trying to tone down the accent she usually left to run rampant. "I do not believe I am lost. This is the staff lounge, is it not?"

"Well," she told him with a sharp little grin, shifting her position as he smirked- oh yes, this trip might yet be worth the taxi fare- "I was doing someone a favor, and I got a little thirsty. You know how it is in school, all the students think there is some big mystery hidden in the staff lounge. So I thought, since I am here, I could be nosy. No one would mind, would they? Unless I stole their lunch, but this is still a school. I could not imagine there was much in the way of good food in here."

Brushing her hand through her water-hued locks, she said, "Besides, I was also getting a little thirsty. Where better to get a tall drink of something refreshing on a school campus than in the staff lounge?" and by tall drink of something refreshing she wasn't thinking about water. Not at all. Goodness, he really was pretty- for a man.

"Are you here on Saturdays between ten and one?" she asked, and sashayed her way closer to him, letting her heels click with sharp precision. She was already almost six feet even without them- would this pretty man find it intimidating? Or was he going to set an end to her game and shoo her from the room without even a kiss goodbye?

She gave a little sigh, looking at the stark, boring room with clear pity. "This room is rather boring," she agreed, "I was thinking I could liven it up with something. A splash of color. A potted plant, or a scarf on the door?" Maybe her shirt on the floor was a proposition a little too forward during the work day; if only it were after school. Did American schools have a little clapper closet she could try and woo him into?

Coming to a halt near him, she leaned out to trace a finger over the bag on the table, leaning in close. He had not kicked her out yet, and it emboldened her playful game as she shifted to rest her butt against the table. "What did you bring in your little bag?" she asked casually, tilting her head a bit more openly predatorily than she might have if he was not (presumably) on a schedule. "Do you want someone to steal your lunch?"

Or steal something else. "I would be happy to accommodate you, if you need a distraction from a boring lunch break."

Her hands were calloused, with little scars, but it did not stop her from sliding them closer to him, open interest. "And what would I have to do to persuade you for a tour that is a little more private?" A little smirk played around her mouth. "Or if you would rather, some after school lessons? You can tell me more about why I should not wander in to the staff lounge."

Oh. Shahar clucked her tongue, letting her eyes widen playfully. "Talk like that, and you will make me want to go back to school and change my major to teaching. I can never resist a party. I could try and teach Physical Education, perhaps," she mused, "I could probably not do too much damage, with that." She was good with bodies, after all.

Living, preferably. Dead, an unfortunate once or twice.

Her laugh was soft, and she shrugged one shoulder. This day was definitely worth the fare. "Unfortunate that you cannot go home on your lunch break, then," she let her lips curve down, a sad little pout, "I am sure there are much more interesting things to eat there." she flicked turquoise eyes up to him, cheeks unblushing as she added, "I am not averse to being stolen, مدرس. So few people think themselves up to the task."

He leaned in closer, and she shifted to meet him, licking her lips briefly. "If they are that demanding, I may need to simply spend the time earning extra credit. Practice makes perfect, and I study hard."

A few lessons in subtlety. He laughed, and Shahar gave a low, chuffing snort through her nose. "Subtlety is overrated." her accent stumbled a bit over the word subtlety, and she had to draw it out to be clear, pursing her lips in quiet, internal annoyance. "I must confess, I dance little around things- in English, or any other language. I suppose that of the things you can teach me-"

She shrugged, tilting her head with a small grin. "- you can try and start with patience." She had not enunciated the P well, and in her light accent it came out more like batience.

But he had pulled back; apparently, their little flirtations were to draw to a close. Shahar could take a hint, and she leaned back against the table, planting herself near his lunch and edging out a chair with a toe. "You will need to eat, to keep up your strength to deal with all these high school students."

And not kill a few. Though she had yet to hear too many tales of teachers going... what did they call it- postal? because they had missed lunch.

You learn to appreciate a bit of subtlety. Shahar gave a soft snort, smused, and inclined her head towards him, accepting his opinion on the matter. "I am certain that I will see your point one day, if I live that long."

Her dismissal had been inevitable, she supposed, and Shahar considered pushing back to try and remain before deciding the kerfluffle that might ensue would not be worth her time. Then the mess of policemen, and having to drain them or beat them up, and there would just be such a mess.

The woman shifted her weight to let the man in closer to his lunch, and tapped her heel lazily against the floor as she considered. Introduce herself? Maybe not. Pushing up, she gave him a grin, waggled her fingers. "Enjoy your meal," she said simply. She could get his name by harassing her paintball friend, if she remembered to ask.

She would have to make herself a note.

"I think next I shall sneak into the principal's office," she said with wide-eyed humor. Commandant? Whatever. She'd heard rumors about this place, after all. "Enjoy your lunch, مدرس.