lowreaches: (Default)
The Low Reaches ([personal profile] lowreaches) wrote in [community profile] the_low_reaches2016-12-31 04:03 pm

The Preamble (The Test Thread)

Who: The cast
Where: 7-0's classroom
When: Lunch!
What: Some basic testing.

Churlish.
 
That was the word that had gripped 7-0.  No one knew exactly how it started, and not everyone was so charmed, but it had become a magic word for the 7th graders on the basement floor of the Belfry, who had not even windows to escape through and spotty reception at best.
 
The kids took to notes instead.  Simple, hand-written, paper notes.  Passed between themselves constantly. People were getting bullied for their handwriting now.  Churlish had appeared somewhere, some time, in one of those notes, and then again, and again, and had wormed its way into their vocabulary.  A catch all:  The teacher's driving me churling crazy.  Raury's such a churl.
 
No one wanted to be a churl.
 
It might've been the school proper what done it.  The Belfry was a spindly, mean thing, looming over a stretch of pretty beach like a malcontent lighthouse.  It hunched in the wind, which licked misty off the cold grey winter waters of the lake, roof slung over it at a surly angle, old and brittle and arthritic even in its youth.  Several stories tall, and perched lonely atop a hill that was murder on a bike, churlish was an apt word for the Belfry.
 
In all likelihood, the word came from their teacher Ms. Poplar. She was a fair teacher most of the time, but notoriously temperamental. Today, she was of the private opinion that she was much too pretty and promising to be toiling away in the basement of The Belfy.  Her bad moods were often given away by her hair, and today it was a particularly high and sloppy ponytail.  Churlish was an apt word for her, too.
 
Ms. Poplar's mood had spread through the classroom;  kids were skittish and quiet.  The first whisperer of the day had been made example of, and several notes were plastered behind her as grim trophies; she scowled and stared down the class while she hung them up.  More mortifying, the contents had all been read aloud after.  She'd only handed out petty busy work, the kind that made it easy to keep checking her phone and biting her lip.
 
When the bell rang for lunch period, Ms. Poplar sat in her seat for a few long minutes more, head in her hands and the class holding their breath.  It wasn't until a girl, Notoriously Nervous Ruby, finally stood up and after several false starts dashed past the teacher's desk and out the door that Ms. Poplar lifted her head, glared around sulkily, and drug herself out of the room.  Churlishly.
 
A gentle buzz of voices filled the room as the pall broke.  Bags crinkled open and kids disappeared out the door, fading away into the cacaphony of the halls.

heart_swap: (look at all this fuckin grass)

[personal profile] heart_swap 2017-01-01 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
There were two worst kinds of days, as far as Marron was concerned. The first of those was the days when the work was too hard, when they touched on a subject that had given her trouble years ago and that she still struggled with now, the ones where she struggled through because she was too proud, too stubbornly not that kind of helpless idiot to need guiding through something she should have mastered before the rest of this class even found their way to this place.

That kind was rare, where the second kind was all too common.

The second kind - today - was the kind of day where she understood everything, where the work was so easy as to be insulting, where there was no point to doing any of it. At least insurmountable obstacles were still obstacles, still something that she could fight even if they weren't something she could defeat. This was just boring.

The bell rang, and she poked her bag with a foot. She could get away with it, if she just took her lunch out now. She could get away with a lot of things, but she wasn't quite hungry enough to make provoking Ms. Poplar worth it. Instead she just stopped making a big show of explaining the workings for sums that she (that anyone) could do in her head and started scribbling in the corner of the page, the kind of irritated scribbling that served only to do something mildly destructive but that could be explained away to a teacher as getting a stubborn biro to play nice.

It wasn't until the teacher was safely out of the door that she leaned back in her chair and stretched. Then she stretched more, phone in hand, trying in vain to catch a signal. Then she waved her phone around. Nothing.

"Churlin' basement. Why'd they give us the room with no reception?" She said to nobody in particular as she continued to move her phone through the air in search of some invisible perfect spot where it might be able to update her IMs. They had her saying it now, even if she'd be mocking their 'childish language' later. "Come on- come on-"
Edited 2017-01-01 01:35 (UTC)
hexalogical: (Look up)

[personal profile] hexalogical 2017-01-01 04:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Belladonna had worked quietly and diligently at the work handed out, grades were important her parents had told her as she'd questioned their relevance long ago. Not because they expected her to go into the sciences or any such thing, but it was vital to maintaining dignity and aloofness they had said, to be people's intellectual superior was better than to be their equal. She looked around her at classmates, there were plenty who got grades as good as hers' and deep down she suspected they had far more natural talent than she did, all she had was hard work.

She toiled away at her studies obediently and as such she had made easy work of what Ms. Poplar had handed out and as soon as it became apparent they could leave she began slowly gathering together her things. She never moved quickly, instead her movement were almost floating, careful delicate movements and wafting grace.

Her bag was a black and white lace affair with multiple internal 'secret' pockets, she opened one of them as she finished putting away her pencils and paper and looked down at Bamba's pokeball, touching it gently with a finger and then lifting it out and holding it in the palm of her hand. She had left Nightshade at home, he didn't really like being brought to school and she could tell from his behaviour he thought it was innapropriate for her pokemon to act as a distraction from classes. She wished she could let Bamba out there and then but he had a habit of getting into scuffles and being far too boisterous for the classroom, dignity and aloofness had never been traits of his.

"No, not now." She said to herself, her tone quiet and filled with far more of an ominous tone than it really needed.
foxfeathers: (xatlasstr8)

[personal profile] foxfeathers 2017-01-09 05:16 am (UTC)(link)
Rhyssa patted her lap after the mass exodus for lunch had departed and the teacher had disappeared. Kali hopped up for a quick brushing, her long ears flicking as the mint green Rowlet, Fallon, resettled himself on Rhyssa's shoulder. He nibbled distractedly at one of her ribbons as she fussed over the Eevee who was delighted with the extra attention.

"Well," Rhyssa murmured, "it's probably I packed something for everyone, hm? A little treat or two is as good as finding something out there. Come on, you lot. Fresh air is better than the basement." She wound her way out of the school, her neatly packed lunch in hand, and found a decent tree to sit at that grass had decided to grow in oddly fluffy spots.

"If I let you pick," she said as she scratched Kali's chin, "you musn't take two. One is for Fallon and you must always look out for each other. Only one." There was a purple and a red one in her hand and the silver Eevee looked between them with longing. Eventually, she chose the purple, and Fallon seemed pleased as he got the green from Rhyssa's fingers.

"If you're still hungry, you know where to go," Rhyssa said with a smile as she settled in to eat her own lunch now that her friends were settled. "And try not to bother anyone this time, Fallon." The little owl gave her a quizzical look and puffed up his chest before taking flight. Without only her Eevee left, who curled up at her feet, she watched the other kids with a grin.

There was a great view from here.

"...I should get some more pokebeans," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe someone else has them?"