The Tiberius J. Swann Education Facility

Who: Erin & James Fletcher
Where: Her room
When: Monday
What: Post naughty-time
Rating: PG-13?


It wasn't that the sex wasn't good. It was pretty fantastic. She'd wanted to sleep with his fine self since he arrived on campus. He was handsome, and older, and she had been attracted to him, and he found her attractive. Her thought process hadn't gone further than that, really. So why she was laying on her back, naked, the sheets pulled up to cover her breasts, and ignoring him was beyond her. He said something, and she didn't hear him. His voice had been muffled, coming from far away. She hadn't really introduced herself after he arrived in her room. She had hidden any semblance of her student status -- books, homework, etc. Her room was hardly filled with personal effects (with the exception of the giant rat cage) anyway. It wouldn't be hard to pass off as an adult. After all, she was an adult.

She blinked and turned on her side, dark hair spilling over a milky bare shoulder. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Who: James and Erin
Where: Recreational Facility Roof
When: Afternoon
What: James is trying to break relativity.

He had traveled through time! It was the only explanation that made sense as to why he was here, in this place, and yet couldn't remember it. How else could he forget anything when his entire life he had forgotten nothing. Definitely not a year. He'd thought at first maybe it was failing him, but he could still remember the rest of his life impeccably. The only thing missing was one year.

If he couldn't remember though, he must have traveled forward in time. But if you could go forward, you could go back! So how, how? HOW?! That's what he was trying to figure out. Standing atop the recreational facility of this supposed school (him, a teacher? Impossible, even if he was brilliant. He just didn't have the time to teach, when he was supposed to be exploring the east) he had a stack of balls of various sizes he had found in the gymnasium. "E does not equal MC squared!" He shouted as he chucked a basketball and a tennis ball off of the roof and watched them fall, trying to find a difference in their speeds. There had to be something he was missing.

Who: Erin and James Fletcher
What: Erin plays Cougar, James plays ... Snowball Fighting?
When: Friday, Mid-afternoon
Where: outdoors...area.

She was texting as she moved, hips swaying in opposite motion to her hair, which was flat ironed and hung around her face like a blue-black curtain. She was wearing heels, which was normal for pretty young girls in any month, and nothing else but a skirt and a sweater, which was not normal for pretty young girls in January. Despite her distinct lack of a coat, gloves, or anything of that ilk, she seemed comfortable. She managed not to trip, kick, or scuff her shoes as she walked. Her thumb moved expertly. She was sixty-six, sure, but she could text like any other youngster.

A snowball sailed passed her. She looked up slowly, as if a block of semi-hardened water had not almost hit her temple, and then blinked as another one followed. Who was throwing snowballs? Really, snowballs? Pale eyes narrowed, and suddenly the semi-hardened block of water actually hardened, to ice. It plummeted to the ground immediately, the slow-moving arch it had been moving in abruptly broken. When it made contact with the pavement, it shattered under her heels.

"Seriously?" she said, looking around for the source.

Who: Xander and Erin
Where: Common Room
When: Friday Evening after the clubs and dinner.
Why: Why not.
Rating: Unknown. PG13 for now for language and inneuendo.

He loved being a performer, he really did. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling one got on stage with screaming fans and all their adoring attention focused on you. Even without being what he was, and that he feed off the crowd’s desire, he would have found that particular moment addicting. But, it came with a price that so few understood. It was too easy to burn out on the attention, too easy to become the moth to the flame in the rock world. And it took far more energy than people would suspect he’d put out to keep his bandmates out of trouble and out of that flame.

He needed out of his room, and away from the phone as a result. This one was doing this, that one was doing that. Mortals were such bothersome creatures at times, but they were his band and friends. When the phone calls stopped working he’d have to go back to LA to fix things, but that was still in the future. But, right at that moment, he needed away from the phone and anything else that could be used to contact him. However, Xander still needed to work. The songs would not write themselves, as much as he might have hoped they would.

And so, Xander found himself in the common room, a chair and end table pulled against a wall as he set his laptop up upon it. One nice thing about technology, it made writing music a little bit easier. His fingers worked down his drum as he closed his eyes and let the melody in his head come alive through his fingers. The cord from his laptop to the arm of the chair held the microphone that turned each melody he played into a series of notes on the computer screen.

Not that at that particular moment it was helping much. Every so often, he would stop, and growl at himself as he turned back toward the computer to see what had been worked out, and just how much bad stuff he had to delete. It really was only at those times that he even remotely paid attention to anyone around him in the common room.

Who: James and Erin
Where: The Cafeteria
When: Dinner
What: James needs to cool off (his drink that is)

The week was going well. His classes had begun and there was a great deal of interest in them, and he was beginning to settle in marvelously. On top of all that, he didn't have to cook anymore, a gift unto itself for many reasons, least of all being that it made it much easier to get variety in his meals. Unfortunately, he was still getting phone calls from former colleagues asking him for help. Something about global warming and climate change, and did he have any information that could help them figure out what was going on. He did, but he personally believed it was too early to tell whether the change was natural or truly do to human activity. Regardless, humans needed to clean up their act, but climate wasn't something that you measured in years, you measured it in centuries.

Returning to the table from his phone call, where he had kindly exclaimed for the fiftieth time that he no longer worked for NASA and that if it didn't relate to space, he wasn't interested in talking about it, he returned to his seat. Much to his chagrin, his iced green tea was no longer iced. He let out a huff and took a sip, grimacing. Not only was it no longer iced, it was no longer cold either. He let out a sigh and leaned back, scratching his head. "If only I could invent some sort of efficient means of keeping drinks cool without the need for ice, so that you wouldn't have melting problems" he said to himself, thinking on the problem.

Who: Dante and Erin
What: Ice Cream
Where: Town
When: Monday Evening
Rating: R for language


Dante was moody at his best, but tonight he was almost at his worst. Fucking school. Fucking Wesley, fucking classes, fucking everything. Mostly, fucking Erin. Why the hell had he told her everything? Because he was being damn stupid lately, that's why. He was slipping. It felt like he was getting softer, losing his resolve. Like he was turning into Roger.

Sulking, stalking and stomping, Dante marched his way to Erin's room and pounded on her door unceremoniously. Here was hoping she didn't have a roommate. When she opened the door was was standing in front of it, arms crossed over his chest, thunder clouds brewing over his head. "Get me the fuck outta here," he snapped. "This place is making me nuts."

Who: Fenrir and Erin
Where: The Very Populated Cafeteria
When: Dinner
What: Fenrir explains his behavior.

Apologizing was not Fenrir's strong suit, but neither was attacking students for no reason. So he was stuck between himself and a hard place. But he knew he had to, that Luna was watching him, and it was his responsibility to take care of his mistake. He huffed once as he stepped through the doors of the cafeteria, and inhaled deeply when he entered, sifting through the scents to find what he was looking for. It was hard at first, with food everywhere, and he received more than his fare share of stares for standing in the middle of the walking area, just sniffing, but no one said anything. His reputation was known by now.

Finally he caught the scent he was seeking, that unnatural icy scent he had smelled before. Opening his eyes, he made his way in her direction, picking her out at a table as he grew closer. He gave one more deep breath, before arriving from behind her and sitting down from across her before she could object.

"I have some explaining to do."

Who: Fenrir and Erin
Where: The gym
When: Evening Yoga
What: Fenrir gets in yet another altercation with a student.

Fenrir had not slept since Wednesday. He had not slept since the vampire had attacked a student, and it was evident as he schlumped into the gym ten minutes after the class should have begun. He grunted something unintelligible, threw his bag onto the floor and stumbled over to the front where he unfurled his mat and stood straight, giving a huge yawn before barking out "Sun Salutations. Now!"

Though he was leading the class, it was evident from his movements that he was failing miserably. He was stiff and not breathing correctly, and his mind was not in it at all. After only ten minutes he couldn't even do the balance exercises. And he was taking it out on the students, yelling at them to focus and do the movements right.

Who: Erin and Cassie
What: In class conversing,
Where: Demonic Lore class.
When: Thursday afternoon.

Cassie had barely been paying attention to anything in her classes today.That was a lie actually, she was paying attention to a lot of things, just not often the teachers or the classwork. Distraction was the name of the game today, Charlie's revelation on the attack was rattling around her head and worry about everything that went with it. She didn't want him to leave, and she really didn't want him to come to any harm because of the incident., So to distract herself from all the worrying she was doing a million and one little things throughout her classes. She supposed if she was a more studious person she could have distracted herself with classwork but that just wasn't her. Instead she had sent e-mails (oh how she loved her blackberry), texts, sketched out some designs for the underwear ad campaign she was working on with Arc and filled her class notes with more observations on people around her and discarded prank ideas than actual notes on the subjects.

Right now though she was in Demonic Lore, towards the end of the lesson and sitting towards the back of the room. Cassie had heard Erin speaking earlier and taken note of the accent that was so similar to her own, but it had taken her until now to actually try and make contact with the new girl. Looking up from a page of slogan ideas for her new line of female teacher posters she caught Erin's eye and smiled with a whispered "Hi".

Who: Erin and Kalli
When: Tuesday evening, just before sundown
Where: On the way to the Student Lounge
What: Erin is on her way to hang up a flyer when she's bumped into. Literally.

Erin was on her way to the hopefully not-too-crowded student lounge to do something she felt she was going to regret. The carefully folded neon-green flyers in her right hand itched her fingers. Tutor? Working? Since when? She was annoyed. She hated explaining things to anyone, and here she was advertising that she was willing to do just that -- for a small fee, of course. She was counting on receiving adequate feedback because her flyer suggested the long lines at the tutoring center might not be worth the wait. She wasn't entirely wrong; sometimes it was easier to sit one and one. The only reason she wasn't downright furious with having to actually work for her money was probably because she'd had a good dinner, and ice cream had been available for dessert. She had a serious sweet tooth.

I wouldn't have to do this bullshit if they hadn't set me up with base essentials, she thought, eyes narrowing at the idea of her parents laughing at her situation. She was tired of living off two solid weeks worth of outfits, and she was low on perfume, makeup, and other things she required. Erin was used to having nice things. It wasn't until she'd officially Messed Up that her parents had sent her here in their frustration with very little to live off of. There were other ways to procure cash, she knew, but she wanted an immediate result and she just wasn't settled enough to dip her hands into anything she wasn't entirely sure about.

In high heels (she was rarely wearing flats, except for when she went to the gym), she was five foot nine, and walked fast. Her hair flew out behind her at a sudden autumn gust and she turned her face away from the sudden breeze, grey eyes narrowed. She hated that feeling. It took your breath away momentarily, and made you feel a little helpless.

( If there was one thing she didn't enjoy, it was feeling helpless. )

Who: Erin and Blake
Where: The classroom
When: A little after 4pm, twenty minutes or so before Professor Elliot's Blades class actually starts.
What: Erin is using the empty classroom like its her own, practicing, when Blake catches her uncharacteristically fulfilling potential.


Erin had never bothered to arrive for any class early before, so it came as no surprise to her when she was caught practicing with a blade in the empty classroom. She had hoped no one would enter, but she knew there was a chance. She was dressed and ready for the class that was to start shortly. Her long dark hair was braided tightly; it swung in a long arch with every spin and undulation of her elongated, finely toned form. Professor Elliot was apparently an excellent tutor; her movements were graceful and near-perfect. She had started instruction with such weaponry only since this semester. None of her other schools had such interesting classes, and her parents weren't the sort to willingly give someone like Erin sharp objects to play with on an extra curricular basis.

A soft sheen of perspiration coated her snowy skin, making stray hairs stick to the sides of her cheeks and the nape of her neck. She wore no makeup -- it was silly to wear makeup in a class that required you to exert yourself, physically; running eyeliner was only attractive on rockstars -- and therefore appeared more fresh-faced and softer than she usually did. Blake Elliot had her in his Intermediate Witchcraft class. She looked rather different in that class: sitting in the back, languid, eyes flicking back and forth as she watched him lecture. She rarely wrote anything down, and was usually a few minutes late. She rarely raised her hand to speak, and would only answer a question or preform if asked. When she was instructed to answer or display anything, she did so with the utmost confidence.

It was the same confidence she displayed now, whirling about, expelling soft grunts between her lips when an extra bit of muscle was required. For someone who had been practicing so long, she appeared only a little tired, however. Being a demon probably assisted in that. She was rarely exhausted, and often energized. She was also completely in focus, and didn't hear the door behind her.