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#1
Old 12-04-2013, 04:07 AM

Holly-Oak Boarding School
An RP by NekoLen and Tachigami


The first day had to be his absolute favorite out of the year. While students abhorred the start of a school year, art and creative writing teacher Reid Seridano loved to return to his second home, his room and office. Holly-Oak was such a beautiful school, so named for its founder and location---Gennine Holly Franks, who had the school built in a huge forest of oak trees, and even built the school using the oak trees that had been cleared to make room for it and its extensive grounds. And here he was, back in his dorm, his office, his classroom on the second floor. He was back to where he loved to be, perhaps more than anywhere else in the world.

And the forest was so beautiful in the winter. Really there was nowhere else Reid would want to be. Teaching intelligent young men, preparing them for the world outside, listening to their problems and seeing what art and writing they could create. With a little urging, they could make masterpieces. He had always known he wanted to be a teacher. An art teacher. A writing teacher. Then when this option opened up, he leapt on it. He was one of three art teachers, and one of two creative writing teachers. Of course, at Holly-Oak, 'creative writing' was referred to as 'novel writing'. He would never make his students write a full novel in a month or two, however he always had new ideas. In his dorm, a personal room just like the rest of the teachers had, Reid swept his bright pink hair back as his white, paint-splattered suitcase was tossed onto his bare bed. It was the last of his bags, finally---most contained his books, his bedclothes, his paper and pens and pencils, his personal art supplies. Three other suitcases carried his bright, almost neon clothing, only half stained in paint.

It was the first day of September. Everyone was arriving today, those that hadn't done so over the past two days, and tomorrow, school would officially begin. He brought out a few books, looking around the place he called home every year. Beige walls left decoration up to the imagination, a vaulted ceiling like all the dorm rooms had. A full bed to the right of the only tall window, and built-in bookshelves on the far left wall. He set a few books down, glancing at the mirror he had put up the year before. Everything about Reid was bright. Hair bright pink, but originally it was bright blonde. It would reach his waist had it not been put up in a ponytail. Bright eyes behind pink-rimmed glasses---one light brown, the other so pale a blue it looked almost white---that were so expressive one could read his emotions at just a glance. Bright, pastel clothing that let others see him coming a mile away. Not even during school hours would he tone down that color scheme. And everything about his personality was just as bright as his clothing and his very person---cheery, kind and sweet.

And tomorrow he would meet his art students. Then later, his writing students. He doubted his position as counselor would be necessary so early in, but the sign on his office door---which led into his dorm and bathroom---would be up immediately anyway.

Last edited by Tachigami; 02-20-2014 at 12:24 AM..

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#2
Old 12-04-2013, 04:37 AM

Terry, like others his age, hated the first day of school. The day was long and tiring, as he had to get up early in the morning to catch his flight, which took 4 hours to get to its destination. He was then bundled up onto a train with the rest of the students, which chugged though the country-side and into the mountains where Holly-Oak was located. The sky was dark when they arrived, and he was glad to be able to stretch his legs.

After being jostled about by the crowd of boys, and sitting through boring speeches, he was allowed to leave for his room while they got dinner ready. He kept his head down, his long dark hair covering his face as if he was a shadow. He avoided most of the large crowds, who talked about their summers and laughed amongst each other. Terry didn't have anyone he was particularly looking forward to see. He liked being alone.

He reached his small room, dumping his bag on his bed and glancing over to the other bed located in the room. His room mate's belongings sat there, but the boy was not around. He sighed with relief and kicked his shoes off, lying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling.

His summer hadn't been very eventful. He had spent most of it with his senile grandmother, as his mother was out enjoying her new life with her new boyfriend. Terry met the man and didn't like him much, but then again, he never liked his mother's boyfriends. He sighed, blowing the hair from his eyes as his room mate entered the room. The boy's name was William, but Terry called him Grinner, because the boy always had a huge smile on his face.

"Ah! Terry! Did you have a good summer?" Grinner asked him, going over to his own bag of belongings and pulling out some clothes. Terry nodded in reply, not really feeling up to talking. His room mate sensed this, his unnervingly wide smile appearing on his face. "Like that, eh?"

He pulled out his jacket, and put it on before turning to leave the room. He stopped at the door, however, and looked to Terry. "I can't wait for tonight. It's been awhile." Grinner then chuckled and left the room. Terry stared after him, biting his lip slightly. Grinner was just one of the many boys he did favors for. It had been awhile since the last time he did anything like that, so he hoped it wouldn't hurt too much.

He heard the bell chime for dinner, getting up off his bed with great effort and slipping back into his shiny black shoes. He slowly made his way down to the dining hall, smiling lightly at those that greeted him. Some of those boys would want a favor from him soon enough.

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#3
Old 12-04-2013, 05:12 AM

His boundless energy showed up in Reid's whirlwind decoration of his room. Paintings on the walls, new sheets and blankets on the bed, his clothes filling his closet, packed in so tightly there wasn't any more room inside for him. The thought made Reid laugh, flip his hair back and go around to his last bag. It was full of what he would need for the year---schedules for not only himself, but for his new eleventh-grade students as well. His grading book, dozens of brightly colored folders he had yet to label, and a planner with concepts for what he would be teaching this year. He taught the way he was taught in college---that writing and art had no set 'rules' and that each person was an individual. Their styles and concepts wouldn't be tossed out, but analyzed for what they, on a unique level, could change to be better or work on to overcome a block. He placed these in his filing cabinet in his office---this year two drawers were empty because the seniors had graduated the year before, leaving room for freshmen to arrive and come to him when they needed help.

As he strung up a curtain over the window, the door to his dorm opened and another teacher entered. Math---specifically, calculus. He was a foreboding man with dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin, a strong build and stronger jawline, intense eyes that demanded obedience and silently commanded others. But Reid giggled, shaking his head as Marcus Hughes entered and leaned against the door jamb. "The village must be missing you." Marcus commented, twisting a bit of his short hair.

"Bah, they won't mind!" Reid waved brightly. "They can find a stand-in I'm sure!"

Marcus only shook his head. "Ain't no one in this world that can stand in for you."

"Awww, how sweet of you to say!" Reid bounced forward, giving Marcus a bone-crushing hug that didn't seem possible from such a thin man. "So how was your summer Markie? Fun with the family?"

Marcus rolled his eyes as a bell sounded, and he and Reid started out toward the cafeteria on the ground floor. "Those kids are gonna be the death of me." He sighed. "I gotta get you to babysit for a month or two."

Reid laughed as they stepped into the hall. People were running all over, though most of them paused to say hello---mostly to Reid, the most colorful man in the place. "I'd be happy to! What would Camilla say?"

Marcus shrugged. "Probably kill me." Reid snickered, shaking his head.

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#4
Old 12-04-2013, 05:25 AM

Terry found an empty table near the back of the cafeteria, hoping no one would decide to sit near him. He waited for the line to thin before standing up and going over to the long buffet tables lined up along the front of the hall. He picked up a clean white plate and slowly moved about the table, selecting the food he wanted to eat. The only good thing about the first day of school was the buffet, of course. He didn't look like it, but Terry was a big eater.

He returned to his table, ignoring a group of boys who watched him pass, calling out names. Luckily, due to the favors he did in school, he wasn't bullied much. "Faggot!" one of them yelled, throwing some mashed potato at him as he passed by. Terry stopped and turned to look at them, but said nothing. They laughed as he went to his seat, thinking dark thoughts.

He wiped the potato off his dark jacket with a spare serviette, before digging into the plate of food he had gotten for himself.

After everyone had finished their food, a few teachers passed out their timetables for the year. Terry got his from one of the drama teachers and glanced over it, smiling to see he had gotten in to all his classes. He was looking forward to art the most, which he had first period tomorrow. He noted the class and the teacher, his eyes scanning the crowds of adults until they fell on the bright, pink haired man. He had always wanted to be in Mr Seridano's class. This made him smile as he got up from his table and walked to his room.

He had something to look forward to, even when Grinner entered the room and eagerly kissed him. Just a few hours... And he would be impressing the best art teacher in Holly-Oak school.

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#5
Old 12-04-2013, 06:04 AM

In just a few minutes he was with the rest of the teachers. While some wore light pink or purple, green or blue, they all had coordinated colors and nothing too vibrant. All the teachers he knew, and got along with, but there were several newbies to the group that regarded him with wide eyes or rather shocked expressions. Marcus seemed to enjoy the reactions from time to time, in his amused expression. Though it was hard to tell he was amused unless one had been with him for a long time---at least a year. Marcus, ten years older than Reid, had been at the school for several years longer, and had become the younger man's mentor despite his general oddities and curiosities. In fact, Marcus was friendlier to him than most other teachers or faculty members, including the principal.

He looked up from the line when several boys yelled out at another. A word he was accustomed to in the general world but never took it to heart---not anymore. "I know those boys." He said, nodding across the cafeteria. He grimaced at the way the object of their momentary torment seemed to walk away without a word, as if he had become accustomed to such behavior directed toward him. "I should bring that up to the principal."

"You mean the headmaster?" Marcus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, might be good. Those kids are all talk and no bite. Show 'em some bite and they'll back off." Reid smiled at the ceiling, prompting Marcus to stare at him in a quizzical manner. "Uh, Reid..." The pink-haired man blinked and looked back at the older man.

"Um, right, right! Bite." He wriggled his nose, trying to push down the curious smile that seemed to want to play through.

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#6
Old 12-04-2013, 06:34 AM

The alarm clock snapped him out of his heavy sleep. He opened his eyes, one dark green and the other milky-white, blind from an incident when he was but a toddler. Yawning, he turned his head to see Grinner already out of bed, pulling on his socks. He saw that Terry was looking at him and smiled, showing his amazingly white teeth. "Good stuff last night, Tear-Bear," he joked, his pink tongue gliding over his teeth as he talked. Terry watched with morbid fascination. "I got to get going though, P.E starts early..." He stood to his feet and left the room.

Sighing, Terry rolled out of bed, collecting his clothes, which were strewn about the room. He slipped into some pajamas, taking his school uniform and fresh underwear to the showers just down the corridor. He trudged into the room with a few other boys, the white tiles cool under his bare feet. It had been awhile since he last stood in the dorm's bathroom, and looking at it now made him not miss it one bit.

The showers were set against the wall, with only small dividers in between each one. Some boys were already showering, their nakedness there for anyone to see. Terry closed his eyes and turned one on of the showers, taking off his clothes and jumping in. He turned the temperature dial until the water was burning hot, just the way he liked it. As he was cleaning himself, another boy appeared. This one was called Phillip, but Terry called him Python for... Well, reasons.

"Good holiday, Terry?" Python asked him, peeling off his underwear and joining him in his shower. "I hope you don't mind a quick pick-me up." Terry turned around and obliged.

-

He was finally done cleaning himself, and was dried, dressed and fed as he made his way to art class. He found it easily enough and waited outside for the teacher to let them in. There didn't seem many students that were in his class, which made him smile.

"Had a good holiday, Faggot?" someone laughed cruelly next to him, making him turn to face his bully. A big boy called Brycen. He called him Pig. He looked away from him, knowing that Pig only continued if his victims retaliated. Or if he had an audience. Of course the other boys didn't even pay attention to him.

How Pig got into art class, Terry had no idea. The boy barely passed English. How could he know how to even hold a brush? This image made him chuckle to himself as the door opened and Mr Seridano appeared before them. If Terry could call him something, he'd call him Bubble. But he never disrespected teachers by calling them nicknames.

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#7
Old 12-04-2013, 07:08 AM

Before dinner ended, Reid was sure to write down the names of the small group that egged on the momentary bullying. If they didn't at least get detention for a day or two, he would certainly complain. Heaven knew he wouldn't keep his mouth shut, a fact that no one could ignore. But he didn't let it bother him that much---The student would be fine for the night. He detached from the group of teachers and said good night to Marcus, returning to his office and dorm and wiring his computer and lighting before night fell completely. He booted the computer up, bringing an email client up and composing one for the headmaster. Perhaps it was what the man was called, but Reid liked to refer to him as 'principal'. It was formal, but slightly less so. He just had to write his first-day complaints up in an email he would send tomorrow morning, rather than immediately. While it was the first day, it revealed a few vocal bullies. And he intended to get them as soon as possible.

Afterward, he glanced at the clock. So late, nearly eleven. Reid rolled his eyes---he never felt directly tired, but once he was out of his clothes and under his blanket. The old school creaked in the night, when everyone was asleep---or at least, supposed to be asleep. He let down his hair and listened to the creaking of the old building, its wooden beams settling and shifting with the wind. It lulled his mind to sleep, into odd, color-filled dreams.

~~~

When his clock rang, a hand hit it immediately. Reid was a morning person---he jumped up and whirled to his closet, pulling clothes out. He would be wearing something over his clothes in his art classes once they got into actual use of paint, but he would have to wear at least semi-formal clothing for his creative writing classes. A powder-blue buttondown shirt and light green bowtie that he couldn't help but feel he could pull off very well. A bright, pinkish-white vest and dress pants of the same color, ended with shiny shoes of white. He braided his hair, and it laid down in a long rope along his back so that it wouldn't get into paint, then he was out, nearly running to his classroom.

It looked exactly how he remembered it. Bare-walled though it was, he knew it would soon be filled with breathtaking paintings and works of art that, when his writing classes came in, would be covered in writing concepts and ideas. It was a large room for a series of somewhat-small classes, but it gave people room to move about and hide their work if they felt secretive. Finally, the clock read eight in the morning, and he unlocked the door. "Hello, boys!" He flourished slightly, waving them all inside. "Come in, come in---I can sense an artist hiding within all of you already! Choose wherever you like to sit, as long as you're happy with it!" He closed the door after they entered and started mulling around, picking and choosing until finally, they were settled. "So I have to take attendance, but there's one thing you'll all be well to store away in your brains right off the bat!" Reid couldn't help but bounce a little as he talked, pacing a bit, his energy palpable. "You will not, under any circumstance, use derogatory terms against anyone, regardless of race, sex, sexual orientation, or family life or social status. To me, you are all the same---you all have potential and I hate to see it wasted on harsh, unnecessary words. And the moment I hear something uttered or see it written, the origin of the insult will be to the headmaster in an instant. I hope that's clear, because I don't like getting too heavy! Where's that book...?"

He went to the desk, pulling up his attendance book and calling out names, marking them down as present when they spoke up.

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#8
Old 12-04-2013, 07:17 AM

Terry watched the art teacher bounce about the room from the safety of the floor near the back of the class. He liked the fact that they were invited to sit where they pleased. Most other teachers forced him into seating arrangements, sometimes even making him sit next to his bullies or lovers. He said he was present when Mr Seridano called out his name, popping his hand in the air so the teacher could see where he sat. Terry met eyes with him for a brief moment and his heart skipped a beat. Such interesting eyes... Terry wondered if the teacher was blind in one eye as well.

They began their lesson, which, like on every first day of class, was a simple exercise for everyone to get to know one another. They had to draw their family, their pets, the things that they liked... Terry just drew a forest, with squirrels nibbling on acorns in the tree branches. What spring looked like in the forest outside the school grounds. He sighed and looked out the window, wondering if snow would fall soon.

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#9
Old 12-04-2013, 07:35 AM

He nodded to each one that raised their hand or called out when their name was called, recognizing most that had been in the school for the previous two years, but hadn't been in a high enough grade to attend any of his classes. He had spoken to some about bullying problems, problems at home, and so on, helping them through. The one at the back---the desk he had put there out of necessity, since there was nowhere else that needed it---was actually occupied, this time by the student he had seen the previous day, that had been momentarily teased. Eyes just like his---almost. Curious. Adjusting his glasses, Reid set the attendance book down and issued an opening lesson---draw. Pencil of graphite, charcoal, light colored pencils, anything similar to that, but draw something from home. Family. Friend. Pet. And as they got started, pulling out their necessary items, their tools and paper, or took paper from the side counters piled high with supplies, Reid bounced about quietly, peering but not staring.

"Just call me Reid, or whatever makes you feel most comfortable." He said as he went around. "The who 'Mister' term is too formal for me." Chuckling, he spun about when he reached the end of the room, going down the next sparse row, then another, ending with Terry, the young man with a pale eye. Trees and fauna. "Nature lover too." He commented, tilting his head and smiling, then moving on. He did love the location Holly-Oak was in. Full of nature. Animals. In the winter, it became so flawlessly beautiful Reid was sure he was in some form of different realm. Even if autumn was full of color bursts and loud tones, winter was breathtaking in its simplicity.

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#10
Old 12-04-2013, 07:48 AM

Reid...? Terry tilted his head as he thought about it. He hadn't met a teacher that liked to be called by his first name. He smiled lightly as the pink haired man walked past, but didn't say anything. Terry never did like to talk much, not since the death of his father...

Just thinking about it again brought tears to his eyes and he had to quickly look away from everyone else. He breathed deeply, to calm himself. Soon the sad feeling was gone and he could return to finishing his drawing. He looked at it for awhile, almost seeing the leaves move in a fictional breeze and one of the squirrels scurrying about. Suddenly, while Reid had his back turned, Terry was hit in the head with a piece of paper.

Curious, he unscrewed it to see what was inside. A crude drawing of him and Reid, doing something naughty with the words "Bum Buddies" written beside it. He grimaced and looked over to Pig, who was giggling like a madman. He crunch the paper in his fist, staring down at his own artwork. Why did Pig bother him so much? And all these boys using him like some... He sighed heavily, blinking back tears.

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#11
Old 12-04-2013, 08:01 AM

Another pass, a glance. He didn't linger much, but paused from time to time to comment on a bit of a drawing, mention a shaking line or too heavy a shading. He seemed to have a group of very talented artists for his first class, and Reid was looking forward to teaching them to be even better and hone their skills. He lost himself a bit, smiling up at the ceiling as he did when he was lost in thought, turning when he heard the telltale sign of crumpling paper. Terry. It didn't look as if he were giving up on his own page, but rather, crunching up a different, ragged piece. And another student was watching him. Brycen, if he recalled from roll call. A familiar face. "Brycen." The young man looked around quickly. Reid didn't respond immediately, but went to Terry and pulled the crunched paper from his hand. Within, a drawing as crude as it was distasteful, and ridiculously offensive.

He sighed. "Even with so much freedom some people just love bending the rules until they snap." He rolled his eyes. "Brycen, please come up here." He waved to the student. "Everyone else, keep working---I'd hope you'll be taking this as a clear lesson that while I'm much, much more lenient than your other teachers, I won't tolerate some things." He took Brycen to the front desk, where he sat and pulled out a pad of paper. His slanted, gentle handwriting was swift and clear over very pale green lines, and his signature was thick and flowy at the bottom. He folded it, then sealed it with several staples. "Take this to the headmaster. I'll be there at the end of this class." He presented the item to Brycen with two fingers.

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#12
Old 12-04-2013, 08:11 AM

Terry watched as Pig grumpily left the room, holding a piece of paper. He felt strangely elated to see the bully punished, but also embarrassed. He wanted to impress the art teacher, and definitely didn't want him to remember him by that incident. But he had no idea how to do it. Instead, he got a new page and drew something else, a flower. He hoped Reid would like it.

The bell rung and the class packed up to leave, Terry stayed behind, holding the piece of paper nervously. "Um..." he said in his soft, feminine voice. "Mr Ser... I mean... Reid... Sir, I... I drew you this..." He offered the pencil sketch of a rose, so detailed you could see the dew drops on its delicate petals. "I'm... I... Am happy to be in your class, sir." He smiled at Reid, again thinking of another nickname for the kind man. Angel.

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#13
Old 12-04-2013, 08:45 AM

For the rest of the class, Reid stayed where he was, tapping very lightly on the desk in front of him but staring at the drawing he had taken from Terry. Brycen's drawing, more specifically. This was what a bully did. Even on the first day, he would latch onto someone, or target the past victim, and each day would be a little more impossible to bear. The way Terry had reacted hadn't been promising, either---he had tried to hide it. He couldn't help but recall those sour memories, but folded the paper up and pocketed it, stowing it away for after class. He had fifteen minutes between classes, and his next was a writing class.

When the old school's iron bells rang, echoed through hidden speaker systems in every room and down every hall, everyone started packing up. "Put your drawings on the desk, finished or no. We can get those done later on, eh?" He stood, going around to the other side of the desk, further from the door, while everyone filed out. When Terry approached, however, he tilted his head, taking the presented paper and adjusting his glasses. "Wow, Terry... This is amazing!" He grinned widely. "You captured such a depth with just a pencil, and I don't see that often. I can't wait to see what you do with paints later in the year." He put a hand on Terry's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I'll keep this close by, I've got a folder dedicated to students' drawings given to me throughout the year and this'll hold a special place." He slid the picture away, between the pages of a planner on the desk.

Standing up straight, he stretched slightly. "I'm glad you're in my class this year too, Terry." He smiled, leading the young man along, out of the room, and he closed the door. "Ah, but you know... Any time you might want to come to me with a problem... Here, or at home, or anything at all. You can come to me. I'm the junior grade counselor as well---I'll listen to anything you might need to talk about, or get off your chest, and I won't tell a soul." He patted the young man and stepped away. "Now I have to be off to the headmaster's office---and you should get going to your next class. I'll see you soon, Terry." With that, Reid bounced off, never walking so much as treating the floor as if it were made of thick rubber.

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#14
Old 12-04-2013, 09:08 PM

Terry nodded, but he didn't plan on going to see Reid after school anyway. He wasn't much of a talker, why would he bother to go to a councilor? He was fine the way he was. He smiled as he left the class, however, glad that the art teacher was just as cool as he had heard from the older students. He enjoyed Reid's energy and couldn't wait to get into being taught by him.

His first day of classes was uneventful after his art class, save for a few favors he had to do for some other boys. He was glad to be in the cafeteria, standing in line for pork chop night. He saw Reid talking to the other teachers, mainly the stern maths teacher whose name he didn't know. He watched him for awhile, getting his food from the lunch lady and turning to go to his seat. As he walked, someone walked past him, nudging him in the shoulder. He looked up to see Pig and his friends standing in front of him.

"Way to go, Faggot. You got me detention on the first day of school. You're such a teacher's pet. Are you bumming him?" Pig goaded, his friends laughing. Terry sighed and stepped around him, going to his usual empty table and ignoring them. As he sat, he realized his table wasn't empty.

Grinner was eating his dinner, watching Pig from where he sat. "You should really stick up for yourself, y'know?" he said, stabbing a potato with his fork. Terry shrugged his shoulders, and dug into his own plate of food.

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#15
Old 12-04-2013, 11:44 PM

He didn't like sending students to get in trouble. In fact, Reid hated it. If they could just listen, and not try to test him, or other authority figures. He did just that, in fact, listening to his betters. When he made it to the headmaster's office, Reid showed his regret at being forced to such actions, but a steadfast firmness in his motion to do so, showing the untampered paper to the headmaster and the distasteful drawing that had been scrawled. After a wrinkle of the nose and shake of the head, Headmaster Ronald Lloyd issued a there-day detention to Brycen and warned the young man of what would happen next time: A month's suspension, being sent back home. And if another incident arose, he would be expelled entirely and forbidden from returning. Holly-Oak, at least, had a tough system on known bullies.

He got back to his next class with time to spare, pulling down the writing information for his creative writing kids. When they arrived, he followed the same custom as the first class, but this time, he issued the first major task that would follow the students all year: Write. Write a novel. As long as they wrote each day, and no matter how much they hated what they wrote, near the end of the year they would turn it in. He would have a lot to read, considering he would have thirty novels turned in at the least, but his eyes were as quick as they were bad. The rest of his classes, though, were very well crafted. They wrote, asked questions, drew, smiled when he commented positively and concentrated when he pointed out weak points. He recognized most of them, but some were new exchanges from other areas of the world, mostly the States.

Come evening, he bounced to the cafeteria with Marcus, who didn't seem to be bothered by the spring-loaded steps the art-and-writing teacher took. In the cafeteria---a wood-walled, dark-wood-floor style thing that fit with the rest of the old school's style---he talked to anyone that even looked at him, getting along with the new teachers as well as rekindling relationships with the ones he'd known for a while. One in particular, a history teacher by the name of Adam, he leaned on playfully, ruffling his thick, brown-black hair, though his eyes scanned the area around him. Students he knew, others that were obviously freshmen he hoped to help get through their first year if that was necessary. And there was Terry, awfully close to Brycen in that moment. He couldn't hear what was said, but a slight unease hit him until they were apart. He twisted his hair, considering a form of action to keep Brycen away from Terry. There was obviously a volatile mix there that had to be kept apart.

Last edited by Tachigami; 12-20-2013 at 05:51 AM..

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#16
Old 12-05-2013, 01:29 AM

Terry's first week back at school was tediously boring, with the only exciting thing that happened was it starting to snow outside. He spent his weekends studying and in the library, but some days he liked to go outside and play in the snow. He built snow castles and snowmen, and dodged the other boys who wanted to throw snowballs around. His classes were still boring, except his art class, which he always looked forward to.

Reid had started the year's subjects, which were a lot more advanced than the previous years' classes. He had to sculpt, paint, and draw still-life, and learn more about shading and light. He was pleased that Reid seemed to let them all work at their own pace, on whatever they felt like. He had started his still-life, sketching anything around him. He caught himself drawing Reid a lot, but always threw these away in embarrassment. What would the art teacher think of him?

He was sitting at his small desk, starting another sketch of Reid when Pig decided it was time to start teasing him again. He had already been talking about his favors loudly, and around the teachers. Terry thought this was because the boy was so ugly, even he wouldn't do any favors for him. He wished he could say it to Pig's face, but instead he kept quiet.

Pig approached him, and bent over his desk, asking for an eraser. It was hard for him to do anything while Reid was watching him closely. "You better watch your back, bum boy. I'm gonna get you one day..." Terry sighed and ignored him, looking over to Reid as Pig walked away.

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#17
Old 12-05-2013, 01:44 AM

He got back into everything as if it were second nature---and in fact, it was. For his art classes he would often move the desks, bring out pottery wheels or sculpting tools, rearrange the desks into a circle around a table that held bottles and wax fruits or bowls, and shined a warm light from a specific side. Then in the dark, they would practice shading and recreation, still-life so it was so tediously called. Soon enough he would bring out those easels he loved so much and they would begin painting. He didn't like giving solid concepts, though---forcing the students to paint the exact same thing grew boring, and he only did that for three days once a week. The rest of the days were dedicated to their favorite things, their hopes and dreams, giving music a form of artistic life by capturing the style of the music in abstract methods. He intended to do that later in the year, however.

Today, though, was one of those days that let the students have their own time. They had to turn something in by the hour's end, finished or not, though they could finish later, but they could practice their shading, their weak spots, and Reid walked about, studying and watching and moving on.

He watched as Brycen approached Terry, and for once his gaze lingered on the two. Brycen's body language was all too familiar, and several moments after he left, Reid approached Terry.

"Terry, if he's bothering you, you ought to come to me." He said quietly, passing and poking the young man's desk as if pointing out a mark on a nonexistent piece of paper. "If it's bad, I can take care of him." That sounded awfully harsh, but it was true. Brycen was a bully, and a bully was someone Reid simply didn't want to be associated with, though he had to treat the young man with the same equality as the rest. Unless, however, he began tormenting others more than before. He didn't linger around Terry to make things worse, though---he went to another student---Kevin---and observed his cottage-in-a-clearing picture.

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#18
Old 12-05-2013, 03:16 AM

Terry was flattered that Reid seemed so concerned about Pig's behavior, but he was used to it. He wished he could tell the teacher to not worry about it, that Pig was all bark and no bite. No matter how often Pig threatened him, the bully never touched him. Terry may not have a big group of friends, but he was liked by more than half the kids in his grade. It seemed his daily favors came in handy for more than one thing.

He finished the sketch he was currently drawing to be handed in to Reid at the end of class. He carefully looked around the class, seeing what the others were doing. One boy was planning out a sculpture he'd be doing with clay later on. Terry went over to him, and looked at his plans.

"Oh, Terry. Interested in what I am doing? I know you've never sculpted before... Maybe I could teach you," the boy said, showing Terry the drawings of a bird. Terry smiled and nodded, before going back to his seat. He stared out the window and sighed. Seemed like he'd have to think of another nickname.

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#19
Old 12-05-2013, 03:44 AM

He always found it interesting to watch his students. When he didn't wander their ranks and observe their gradual creation, he was at a window or his own desk, looking through what he was given at the end of each day. It took more effort to put together writing exercises each day than it did to think up art exercises. And considering the small, ten-person classes he had each class, it was much easier to focus on one student individually. Near the end of class, Terry approached with his work and Reid accepted it with a bright smile, sliding it into the class's folder to take care of later. As he did with each piece of work, he tacked his observations and thoughts onto the back to help the student where it was necessary, and he did that at the end of each day.

His eyes drifted after a while, watching them. He caught Terry with another young man that had been working on a sketch of a sculpture he would be doing the day after, and smiled at that. He was at least being more social. His eyes went up to the window, and brought up his hand to his pale eye with a grimace. That eye, so light a blue it was almost white, was much more sensitive to bright lights, but he didn't mind that. It was a unique thing he'd been born with, a testament to what he would be as an adult. Outside, though, it was bright. The trees had grown bright and colorful, their leaves falling in bursts every day, and the ground dusted from time to time with a light layer of snow. Soon the trees would be barren and caked with damp snow, icicles, winter birds roosting and puffed up to keep warm.

The bell rang not long after, and he stood up. "You know the drill, boys. Finished stuff in the green folder, unfinished stuff in the blue." He indicated the two open folders he'd employed on the third day. He nodded to each as they left, smiling and saying goodbye, promising to speak to one during that evening. He looked rather pained as he left, and that hurt Reid. He hated seeing that expression. That look of sadness, regret, pain, just below the surface.

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#20
Old 12-05-2013, 03:58 AM

Art was his last class that day, so he made for his room. Perhaps he could get his jacket on and go for a quiet walk through the snow-laden forest. He hadn't seen many animals around, but on calm days like today, you might be lucky to see some squirrels. Terry liked squirrels.

As he walked the hallway, the boy with the sculpture caught up to him. Terry decided on the name Curly, due to the boy's light brown hair which was short and curled like snail shells. "Hey, Terry, um... I was wondering if you were busy? I want to spend some time with you." Terry shrugged and continued walking up a flight of stairs.

It was dark by the time Curly was finished, just before dinner time. He thanked Terry and left the room, just as Grinner came in. His room mate smiled when he saw the state Terry was in, coming over to give him a kiss. "You should clean yourself up and come down to dinner with me." He continued to grin as he grabbed a different pair of socks and left the room.

Terry straightened up his hair and followed shortly after, taking a detour to pass by Reid's office. Part of him wanted to go in and talk to the man, but it would just be too hard. He stood in front of the door for a long time, before turning around to go down to the cafeteria. The door to the office opened, and a boy in his grade came out. He smiled weakly at Terry and walked the opposite way, towards the dorms. Terry stopped and turned to peer into the office.

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#21
Old 12-05-2013, 04:29 AM

Chris's grandmother had just died. Just a month before school had begun, he had stood with his father---now the last remaining family he had---and watched her fade away. Reid didn't care that, often, he would cry when a student talked about their problems, about what they had left behind or what, now, they would have to endure. And when it was something to do with school, Reid would do everything in his power to make that better. This time, however, all Reid could do was nod along, wipe away a tear here or there, and say that maybe someday it would get better. Easier, perhaps. He could speak from experience that the loss of such a close person in life was devastating, but it couldn't dictate your entire life. He offered a listening ear any time Chris wanted to tell someone about whatever else was on his mind, and Chris smiled and nodded, and before he left, offered a quick hug.

Reid watched him go, then turned to look at his day's collections. Three folders of green and blue, marked with a big, gentle number: 1, 2, 3. All his art classes, thirty students in all, some coming back later in the day for their writing class. He let the door remain open after Chris departed, loving the warm breeze that came in when someone walked along the hall outside. Sitting, he flipped open the finished folder with a bright 3 on it and started running through. Before dinner he wanted to get some 'grading' done, if he could call it that. He did have to give them a letter grade at the end of each semester, but he based it all on current ability rather than what led up to that ability.

And having his door open let others know that he was there, and available to be talked to about whatever was on their mind, teacher or student alike.

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#22
Old 12-05-2013, 04:37 AM

Terry watched Reid from behind the doorway, peering around the corner shyly. It wasn't like him to talk to someone else about his problems... A trait that, among other things, had him branded as autistic. He sighed and entered the room casually, glancing at the clock that hung on the wall. Dinner would be served up in 10 minutes, and he had half an hour to go down and eat. Maybe he could try talking to Reid about his problems...

What problems? His dead father? He never talked about that to anyone, even when his mother had begged him to. What other problems did he have? He was moderately good at all his subjects, was likable enough and seemed to attract a lot of attention from the other boys. He sat on the chair before Reid and watched him, even when he was greeted by the man.

"Is your eye blind?" he asked suddenly, pointing to the light blue eye Reid sported. "Mine is."

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#23
Old 12-05-2013, 04:54 AM

Reid was enthralled with his work. His bi-colored eyes studied each picture intensely, looking for flaws, praising perfection in what he considered perfection. Of course perfection itself was in the eye of the beholder, but it was hard not to be amazed at some of the creations his students could come up with. Flowers in vases, charcoal pencils and regular alike, recreating those still-life images of bottles and fruit he had set up with a distinct lighting effect. Because no one was in the same spot, no drawing was exactly alike, and everyone's unique vision came through the more he inspected each paper. He used a notebook to write his thoughts on, and tacked it to the back, sliding each one into a light pink folder until he passed everything back at the end of the month.

He only looked up after his eyes grew tired, and he took off his glasses as someone else entered. At first he couldn't tell who it was, until he slid the glasses back on his face. Terry. "Hey, you." He twirled his pencil in his hand and rested his chin on his hand. "I hope your week's been good." He hadn't seen anyone specifically poking at the young man, but he wasn't always around.

Curiosity brought his hand up to his pale eye. "Oh... No, I was born with it. It's more sensitive than the other because of its color, but I'm not blind." He folded his arms on the desk, one hand playing with his ponytail. "What happened to your eye?" Had he always been blind? Or was it something recent? He seemed to have adapted well, something Reid considered to be a longtime thing.

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#24
Old 12-05-2013, 05:02 AM

"Huh? Oh, something," Terry blinked. He was often asked about his eye and he never really felt like talking about it. He was too young to remember anyway. "I did it when I was little." He blinked again and looked down to his hands, fiddling with his fingers. He wondered if he looked like someone that had recently been sleeping with someone else. He probably should have brushed his hair more carefully.

"Why do you dye your hair pink?" he asked. It had to be dyed, there was no way that that colour would be natural.

Most people found his random questions annoying and rude, but he never meant it like that. Maybe that's why he stopped talking, because he hated to offend others.

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#25
Old 12-05-2013, 05:12 AM

Where had his parents been? To leave a young child alone long enough to completely blind himself had to be neglect. He swiveled his chair around, coming out from behind the desk to face Terry more specifically. He wanted Terry to look at him, but Terry seemed as if he wanted to pointedly avoid Reid's gaze. He didn't push, however. "Well, I like the color." He admitted, bringing his hair around and looking at its ends. "It's actually blonde, but I like to make it stick out more. I guess I like to reflect my personality. It's not fun to be bland and colorless, know?" He sat back, laughing a bit as he did. "I don't do it much, just when I need to take care of the roots when they grow up."

He studied the young man. The dark colors. The dark blue of the school's student uniform colors. The black hair, slightly mussed. So dark, shadowy. Perhaps he had gone outside---it was windy today. Reid thought for a moment. "Terry... Why does Brycen torment you and no one else?" There had to be a reason. He'd heard Brycen talk about the young man in the distance, but had never been close enough to actually do anything. Spreading rumors about other students was frowned upon universally throughout the school, after all.

 


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