Crouching Student, Hidden General

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by The Mood is Write, Dec 31, 2014.

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    After the fall of Biocybera, one of her generals survived the explosion, and is living in foster care after her death, and trying to find new purpose in life, while attending high school and managing a part time job. He has to keep his real identity secret, or risk losing his life.​

    It's January 10, 2015. Sid is attending a public school with block scheduling. His classes are:

    Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
    AP Chem AP Chem AP Math AP Chem AP Math
    AP Math AP CHem AP Math AP Chem AP Math
    AP English AP English History AP English History
    History AP English History AP English History
    Study Hall Study Hall Study Hall Study Hall Study Hall
    Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch
    Phys Ed Phys Ed Home Ec Phys Ed Home Ec
    Home Ec Phys Ed Home Ec Phys Ed Home Ec
    Health Health Psychology Health Psychology
    Psychology Health Psychology Health Psychology
     
  2. Amber's Schedule

    MondayTuesdayWednesdayThursdayFriday
    AP ChemAP ChemAP MathAP ChemAP Math
    AP MathAP CHemAP MathAP ChemAP Math
    AP EnglishAP EnglishHistoryAP EnglishHistory
    HistoryAP EnglishHistoryAP EnglishHistory
    Study HallStudy HallStudy HallStudy HallStudy Hall
    LunchLunchLunchLunchLunch
    Government Government Government Government Government
    Biology Biology Biology Biology Biology
    Drafting Drafting Drafting Drafting Drafting
    Orchestra Orchestra Orchestra Orchestra Orchestra
     
    #2 Ranele, Jan 5, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 5, 2015
  3. Sid yawned as he munched an apple on his way into the school building. It was January, and he was wearing a muscle shirt and cargo capris. Neither of these was a violation of the dress code, but his flip-flop sandals were, and one teacher was already eying him.

    The boy held his schedule in front of himself and looked around, the other kids sluggishly made their ways in, all miserable and none wanting to be there. Sid's alert, awake eyes set him apart from the rest of the pack.

    He pushed his black hair from his face and pursed his lips a moment, then slowly edged out of the throng collecting near the doors, heading toward his locker. He soon discovered that it was stuck, and shrugged. No use dwelling on it, though. He didn't have all his class books, and if he remembered right from before winter break, the seats had baskets under them. He could talk to someone later about his locker, though as long as he was careful where he sat, he was sure it wouldn't be a problem.

    First up was advanced placement chemistry, according to his schedule. He'd sat in on the tail-end on its prereq after testing out, if only for a short chance at getting to know the school before a first day of a new semester. It was a good idea, and paid off, given the strange layout of the school.

    Americans had no sense of order. It came from their system of measurement, he was sure. Damn imperial units. He grunted as he walked down one hall, then through a large open area, and down another hall to get to his first class. Chemistry. Here, at least, students should be using the metric system, he hoped. As he looked out across the room, he decided that he liked its layout. One half of the room was dedicated to the lab tables and equipment. The other was for desks and the usual classroom fare. Sid made his way to the back row and sat just off-center-- he could easily see the board from any place, but with his height, he knew he would block the view of others.

    Automatically, he slouched forward, as though to disguise his massive height. He looked like he belonged to a professional boxing ring more than he looked like he belonged in a high school classroom, and with his outfit choice for the day, he looked like he was the type to skip not only school, but town, and go to a coast with big waves and surf or skate his days away.

    In reality, he would have loved nothing better than to be in a cold, drafty metal base in Norway, but he kept quiet about that. The government of the country he lived in now had forcibly ended those days where he knew what it was like to have friends. He jerked from his thoughts as he noticed someone sit next to him, and looked over curiously, nippling at the end of his apple core to try to get the most fruit from it as he could. One of his hands was sticky with apple juice as he blinked, surprised that he was no longer alone.
     
  4. Amber settled into the chair near the back of the room. Normally, she'd have sat closer to the front, but Patricia was up there already, and she was not going to set anywhere near that little viper and cabal of sycophants.

    She swept one hand along her wool skirt as she settled into the chair. Her cableknit sweater was somewhat bulky on her form, actually having been her grandfather's when he'd been a younger man. She'd still needed to roll the sleeves up a bit when she didn't want them to entirely cover her hands, like know as she pulled out her notebook and a pen to get ready for class. She noticed the odd boy sitting next to her and gave him a smile, and then did a double-take. She was sure she'd never seen him before. positive she'd remember someone who looked like him. He had trouble written all over him, and her lips quirked as she saw the flipflops he was wearing.
     
  5. As he watched her smile, then turn away, only to jerk her head toward him again, he could only blink. Was he that out of place? To try to relieve the tension, he coughed a bit into his fist. "Is there something on my face?" He pulled a tissue from his pocket and wrapped the apple core for later disposal. Now that there were other students present, he didn't want to cause a disturbance by standing. He knew being huge like he was, people would stare, and then the teacher would be too preoccupied trying to get their attention that nothing would be taught.

    Just as he was thinking that, the teacher walked into the room, looking as tired as the rest of them. He was a black man with neat dreads tied back into a ponytail. His button-up shirt had rolled up sleeves revealing dark, muscled forearms, and his pants were well-kept black, ironed to crease properly. His shoes were shiny, and as the man looked around, he smiled. "First class, and you're stuck with me, looks like." He absently scratched his head through the thick dreads, then wrote onto the electronic whiteboard, the marks appearing a split second behind his motions with the stylus.

    Mr. Talbot

    "I'm Mr. Talbot, the teacher for this chemistry course. Let's start with attendance." He circled his name, then looked back at his students. Most were already drifting off. "Wake up, or I'll mark you absent on your first day. Fake it if you have to." He picked up a clipboard from his desk and looked it over, then looked at the students, and began to call each by name alphabetically by their last names.
     
  6. Amber felt her cheeks grow warm at his question, waving it off and looking away. Luckily, the teacher entered about that time. Stifling a yawn herself, she knuckled her back through her sweater while Mr. Talbot started attendance and scribbling on the first page of her notebook to get her ballpoint warmed up. She kept half-an-eye on her neighbor though, to see which name he responded to.

    Patricia's normal crew was missing one, she noticed. Alice was neither here, nor was she mentioned on the roll call. Interesting... Amber filed that away for later investigation. It wouldn't be beyond Pat to push someone out of a class just because they'd fallen out of her favor. She returned her attention to the odd mix of formal and casual that was Mr. Talbot. Ex-military, she thought. He reminded her of the father of a friend who'd been in the Navy.
     
  7. (Sorry for the delay on getting a reply back to you. I've been exhausted and haven't been able to reply with a clear mind until now.)

    "Sidney Stone?" The teacher called and looked around.

    Sid raised his hand. "Here."

    The man moved on, and eventually finished.

    Amber was the girl sitting next to him, he leaned, and made a note to remember it-- it would be awkward if he forgot. Class began, and it was mostly introductory stuff-- the syllabus, handing out books, the breaking up of Patricia's cluster of friends and any other friend clusters the teacher knew about, assigning the seats he switched around and telling the class that was where they would sit until they proved troublesome, and then he would shuffle everyone again. Sidney and Amber remained seated next to each other and in the same location, primarily because Sid would block views elsewhere, and it was fairly clear from Sid's transfer status that he wasn't friends with any of the people around him.

    "Alright. Since our morning period is nearly over, take the rest of the time to speak to the person to your right. There's an even number of people in each row, so I don't expect anyone to be without a conversational partner." He looked across the kids, then walked behind his desk and sat down, going through some papers as he listened in.

    Sid turned to look at Amber. "We're probably going to be lab partners." He smiled, hoping to come off as friendly.
     
  8. Amber returned his smile. "I hope you'll be wearing closed-toed shoes, though," she replied in a playfully teasing manner. "I'd hate to see you hurt because one of us got clumsy with some HCl," she said, spelling it out as "aech-see-ell."

    She shifted sideways in her seat to face him more directly, sitting on her hip and tucking her legs under the desk. "I'm Amber, by the way. Are you new? I don't remember seeing you around before."
     
  9. The boy blinked and looked down at his feet, then grinned. "I couldn't find my shoes today." He apolized unashamedly as he turned to face her as well. "I just transferred a little before the end of fall semester, just in time for exams." He absently rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm Sid." He continued to try to make himself look smaller by slouching, as though keenly aware of how different it made him from the other students.

    His wide shoulders and muscular arms already drew stares enough, he didn't need his height to do the same-- granted, he was proud of his muscle, so being stared at over that didn't hurt him a bit.
     
  10. (Ack! Sorry, life's been a little hectic on my end.)

    "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she replied, though with a hint of a frown. The way he was slouching, it was as if he'd really rather not be talking to her. Probably just new-school nerves, she told herself, putting her smile back on.

    "Just in time for exams, huh?" she replied with a sympathetic wince. "That must have been tough. Or did you not have to take them? Where'd you transfer from?"
     
  11. (No problem.)

    The boy grinned. "From North Carolina. They ran out of foster parents there, actually." He laughed in an attempt to hide the moment of remorse he felt at the mention of where he'd arrived from. "The exams weren't too bad here, at least. Schools are pretty much all the same, though." As he spoke, he slowly straightened-- as though slouching took conscious effort. "I chose to take the finals here so I could get into the AP courses. Prerequisites stink, ya know? Especially when new schools and old schools don't believe each other." He rolled his eyes skyward.

    "Anyway, you taking this for college credits, too?"
     
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