Eleutherea

[MurderWeasel]

Aaron spaced out a little, and then gave a start as the bell rang. Class had sped by somehow. Perhaps the interruptions had taken more time than he'd imagined, or maybe he just hadn't been paying attention. He couldn't recall what they had been "taught".

It didn't matter, though. It was time to get out of this waste of a class. He hurriedly packed, and made his way out of the room, making sure not to be first or last. there was no point drawing Mr. Howard's attention; that might lead to being called on more often, after all.

((Aaron Hughes continued in Stranded in this Shopping Hell))

[decoy73]

Jimmy felt a tug on the paper as he was writing his post-script. Huh? He looked to his left and saw someone pulling at the note. He raised his hands slightly to allow the guy to take the note, faking a stretch. He watched as the guy looked at the note, then wrote something on it.

Ah. Must be Dustin.

Dustin handed the note back to Jimmy, staring him down, as if he was just daring Jimmy to try and read it again. He just passed it to Aimee, looking at Dustin with a shrug. Yeesh. Why so uptight? He looked down at his notebook, pretending to write notes about ... whatever Mr. Howard was talking about. The interest seemed to have died down now that someone had made it clear that Mr. Howard's qualifications were on paper only. It was at that moment that the bell rang. Jimmy just placed his books in his bag, zipped it up before throwing it onto his back, and ambled out of the classroom. He saw Dustin leaning up against the wall right outside. He gave him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder before looking at his watch. He was going to have to hurry if he wanted to make it to his next class.

((Jimmy Robertson continued in Art for Art's Sake))

[LoneArcher†]

{{OOC: Sorry for not posting. Been busy.}}

The rest of the class went by fairly normally. Pretty soon the bell rang and the lecture came to an end. Students filed out of the classroom at their own pace and chattered here and there. Aimee gathered her belongings and put them in her bag, which was organized by book height and then subject, took a quick sip from her water bottle and closed her backpack. As she swung it onto her back, she heard a quiet comment.

"Thanks for playing along." from Harold.

Before Aimee could say something back, he was out of the room. She figured he probably had a class on the other side of the school or something. It was then that she noticed a note that had probably been slipped onto her desk some time ago. She bent over and looked up to see where Mr. Howard was before reading the short letter. Ha, only a bit. You seem to have read much more, though. Meet me after, talk me through? Aimee grinned. Just who was this guy? Aimee brushed her bangs out of her eyes again and glanced around the room trying to find Dustin. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't at all intrigued by the events, but of course she would never admit it.

Figuring he had probably left some time earlier, she shrugged and walked out of the classroom somewhat disheartened, if only out of curiosity. She gave a slight nod to Mr. Howard as she left, something she was in the habit of doing after every class, and wished him a pleasant rest of the day in the least-patronizing voice she could muster before exiting the room.

And there he was, Mr. Dustin Royal, leaning on the wall like a puppet-master arrogant and confident in his control. She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, failing to suppress a smug grin. "Look at you, in cliche wall pose number three. It's enough to make a girl sick." She smiled at him and checked her watch, "So what did you want to talk about, Dustin, is it?"

[Pigeon Army†]

"Look at you, in cliche wall pose number three. It's enough to make a girl sick."

Aimee Kowalski had rounded the corner just as Dustin had considered leaving - after all, he wasn't so desperate as to wait around forever (in fact, he wasn't desperate at all, but that was neither here nor there). Given a better look at her, Dustin noticed things he hadn't when he was being dazzled by the ponytail - her face was a little pushed into the centre, her figure was very slight, the clothes she wore weren't especially flattering. Dustin gave a mind-shrug, reasoning that she probably looked pretty good under all that. Dustin pushed against the wall with his shoulder and straightened himself, and then replied to Aimee's snarky little jibe.

"Well, cliche poses number one and two just don't work these days, and number four's not something anyone should be subjected to while they're sober. I'm just working with what I'm given." Dustin grinned and chuckled knowingly. In response, Aimee checked her watch and asked, "So what did you want to talk about, Dustin, is it?"

There was a hint of humour in her voice - she was intrigued, and Dustin knew it. He'd hooked her, and now he just had to reel her in. "It is Dustin, in case you didn't catch Mr. Howard earlier." He gave another sly laugh, and then continued, "Well, you do seem to be more well-versed in this book than I am, and to be honest, I'm kind of stumped with what Conchis is meant to represent. I could do with an expert opinion enlightening my view, hehe. Walk and talk?" Dustin stepped back and jokingly bowed, as if he were a chaperone escorting someone to a high-class ball.

((Dustin Royal continued in Decisions, Decisions))