Hops so mad, they say I fly

Ethan Carver, former fighter pilot, current academic athletic director, substitute teacher, and all-around stand-up guy. Always up to chat with students in need. [Closed Interaction RP Blog for the SkaiaNet Institute AU] (Sidebar/Icon belong to akitsu-47.tumblr.com)

[misspawncealot-deactivated20150]

Visit to the Carpurr

[misspawncealot-deactivated20150]

Now that her whole story is more or less out, she slows down her hands. “Oh yes! His name is Cronus, I text him emojis and mimes all the time but he said that it would be easier if he just passed notes through my wall to me. Said they would last longer if he did it that way!” Meulin nods quickly and wanders around the room a bit, making sure to watch Carver’s face just in case he starts to speak again so she didn’t miss anything. This office could use a little color, she’s going to make sure to draw him pictures of sporty type stuff this year and next year so he never forgets her! “Oh and Bec was sending nasty messages to Cronus like they were fighting! But I Don’t know what it’s about. It might be about me but I can’t tell really. I wish I could hear them so that I could really understand how they talk.”

She crosses her arms as she thinks of more and more things to tell Carver. “Oh and the English teacher I have this year is a dolt! She keeps looking away from me so I can’t get all of the lesson!” Meulin pouts, full blown ears set back on her head and tail swishing around sadly. She always wished she could hear again, she wishes that she never had this done to her so that she didn’t loose her hearing. But there were okay things that came out of it. She guessed. “Why do you have that look on your face? Did I say something wrong?”

[airbornesummoner]

Carver nods along dutifully, quickly noting Meulin’s signs down, struggling even at the slower speed she reduced it to. Carver is now very concerned at the implication, not wanting something so egregiously inappropriate and dangerous to be going on in the Institute, and in his building no less! He makes a note to investigate this claim as soon as this meeting is over, possibly taking Meulin with him for context.

He cracks his knuckles to limber up before responding, both in sign and speech to cover his bases. “Jeez, there’s not a whole lot of advice I can give you on boys fighting over you or anything. Not really something I have first-hand experience with, unfortunately. Not that I want boys fighting over me. Er.” He pauses, averting his gaze into one of his hands to recompose himself.

He perks up and points excitedly. “Oh, I can help with that one! I’ll get in contact with her to fix the teaching problem. Probably like a memo or something? Or maybe I can get Fortuna to talk to her. That would probably get a stronger reaction. That woman is downright terrifying.” He shivers, cracking his neck in the process. “Oh, boy, don’t tell her I said that. I don’t want to know what would happen to me.”

She catches him off-guard somewhat. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Just have a lot to take away from this conversation. You’re really keeping me busy this year.” He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his head idly.

[srkt8prototype-deactivated20151]

Signin’ up for the Team

Vriska had just started to settle into the institute. She had been assigned her dorm, given a time table and provided with the uniform required. Things were actually off to a decent start, despite one pressing matter in the back of her conscious. having attended her  classes, she set out to find Mr Carver during the later afternoon as she’d be told that he was the Athletic Director, just the person who could help her deal with her problem. She headed out to the gymnasium, hands stuffed into the pockets of her neatly ironed trousers, and boots gleaming as the sunlight caught on them with each step forward. It wasnt a long walk over, and she didn’t particularly mind the few odd looks from the other students. Vriska did wonder however, if it was because she was a new student, or be ‘normal looking’ than some of the classmates she had met. Maybe its because she’s related to the headmistress, it was blatanly obvious they were. Vriska had kept her lips sealed about what she knew of this for now, she had some plans regarding that matter. With a shove, she opened the gymnasium door and stepped through, almost marching as she entered. It didn’t take long before Vriska spotted Mr carver, and strode over with a grin across her lips. She was eager for this conversation. Eager to find out what opportunities she could get to show what she was capable of. She coughed a little bit, looking at the man before speaking up, her chin raised a bit as she confidently spoke up. “You must be Mr Carver, right? I’ve been looking to speak with you about something I think we’d both find pretty valuable.”

[airbornesummoner]

Ethan Carver may style himself an important and busy man, but the truth of the matter is that he would, and often does, forsake work in favor of spending extra time in the gym. Whether it be fitting in extra training time, maintaining the equipment, or just hiding from Fortuna Serket, he always manages to convince himself that his time is better spent doing more hands-on activities than paperwork.

On this particular day, he busied himself with the freestanding training bag, maintaining his expertise in hand-to-hand combat. High kicks and roundhouses filled in the bulk of the routine, the rest peppered with quick jabs, knees, and other filler to keep a steady flow to the routine without losing momentum.

Hearing the door to the gym fly open, Carver froze in position, leg hovering in the air at roughly chest level. His gaze slowly turns, and in his peripheral vision, he is convinced that the Headmistress has finally come to make him pay for his crimes against paperwork. “Fortuna, I can expl-” he starts, turning to face his guest with an apologetic look, stopping dead in the middle of the sentence when he finally realizes that this is not Fortuna Serket, but instead her niece, Vriska.

“Oh, uh, sorry, thought you were someone else. My bad.” He rubs the bridge of his nose, looking much calmer now that he was when he started talking. “Okay, yeah, I’m ready to pick up whatever you’re about to throw down.” He shrugs, digging his hands into his pockets.

[dr4gonqu33nsupr3m3-deactivated2]

Have a Calm Conversation with a Coworker

[dr4gonqu33nsupr3m3-deactivated2]

Revvka opens the door slowly, poking his head in then fully stepping in after a moment of looking around the room. “Cleaner than I expected.” He mutters to himself as he looks around the room further. There’s papers everywhere, but that’s what his office looks like as well, there’s no controlling paper, not when there’s so much of it. “Ah, yes, Carver. I would like to speak with you about the sporting events and training that you do every now and then.”

He steps forward, closer to the desk, but ignores the chair. Sitting was weird for him considering the whole tail thing. “Some of my students say that they do not believe that they will be able to complete their assignments due to extra curricular activities including sports such as football and soccer as well as various others that I cannot remember the name for.” Oh, that’s sweat under his arms, he’s just that nervous, why is he that nervous? “I request that you please lighten the load you are placing on these students as it is extremely important that they learn this subject and complete their class work.”

[airbornesummoner]

The remark about his assumed cleanliness isn’t lost on Carver, but he decides to let it slide, chalking it up as a cultural barrier between their two species. Maybe on his planet, being ride is considered customary. He chuckles to himself about his own clever little thought before straightening up and lacing his hands together on the desk in front of him.

Carver nods along, feigning interest as the history teacher makes his point, leaning back in his chair as he begins speaking. “So, let me make sure I’m following you here, you want me to reduce the ‘workload’-” He makes judicious use of the air quotes here. “-because my students don’t have enough time to complete your assignments. The way it sounds to me, you’re assigning an amount of work that your students can’t complete in a timely manner, and I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

As he finishes his counterpoint, he stands to match the posture of his colleague, his stature easily dwarfing the other man’s. “My class and the activities they do outside of class time is a key component to both their physical and mental health, and I don’t think you want me telling the Headmistress that you’re trying to jeopardize the health of the student body, do you?”

He doesn’t think he’s being unreasonable. After all, it’s not like Revvka was going around to all of the other teachers and club heads telling them that his class is too important for students to waste their time on other classes.

[misspawncealot-deactivated20150]

Visit to the Carpurr

[misspawncealot-deactivated20150]

She pushes open the door before he can say anything because duh she’s def and waits for no ‘come in’s’ and kicks off her toms. “I can’t purrleave they’re making me wear SHOES.” She whines and wiggles her toes, allowing her claws to extend and tap the floor a bit. Meulin takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders. She can’t remember if Carver knows sign language or not so she just goes right in, quickly signing various things to him that happened throughout her day. “So first I totally got caught in the kitchen before lunch but the teacher was new and I got off with a warning, so that means he didn’t tell on me I think. But I’m sure the headmistress still knows. She didn’t call me in today so I guess that means that she doesn’t care that I ate that whole pack of lunch meat. I need to start keeping snacks in my locker but they’re not refrigerated! Oh and then I met this boy named Bec and we played for a little bit and then I met my neighbor and he’s super nice and I’m happy he passes notes to me through my wall!”

She stops signing and smiles at him widely, waiting for his response to her huge monologue and basically her whole diary entry. Meulin rocks on her feet, loving the way the cold wood feels against the pads of her feet.

[airbornesummoner]

Carver never seems adequately prepared with how quickly Meulin rush into everything, and before he can even raise a hand to greet her she’s already barreling into her wild gesticulations and spinning a very fast-paced story. He has to snatch a handful of papers from the floor and scrawl out the signs he recognizes, so he can piece together what Meulin is trying to get across to him.

He knew a fair amount of sign language, but no amount of fluency can prepare you to keep up with Meulin Leijon. He wasn’t convinced he could keep up with speech of this speed even if it was spoken in English, a language he was pretty confident about his fluency in. After she finished ranting, Carver consulted his notes, nodding along as he connected the signs into sentences.

His expression changed from contented understanding to something similar to worried confusion. After a few moments he began signing back in slow, deliberate sign. “Passing notes, to you, through the wall?” He looked at her with a very serious expression, wanting to make sure that he read those signs right.

[dr4gonqu33nsupr3m3-deactivated2]

Have a Calm Conversation with a Coworker

Revvka takes a deep breath and clears his throat. He doesn’t really like having to talk about Carver, so when students bring him up in class he generously avoids the subject. It’s not that the human has done anything to him, it’s just, he’s worried about himself. He hears things about Carver and he doesn’t want himself to get involved, but it’s time that he stand up and speak with Carver about sports cutting into class time. Well more accurately the study time designated by free period and after class hours.

He stands outside Carver’s office door and adjusts his button up shirt and the fur on his elbows as well as flexes his feet in an awkward shuffle with his inability to have human contact with some people. It takes him a moment to work up the guts to knock on Carver’s door, but he finally manages to do it. He’s so proud of himself.

[airbornesummoner]

Today’s definitely a long day, and it’s just about to get longer. Unbeknownst to Carver, who is currently tackling the mounds of paperwork threatening to buckle his desk under the weight. At the moment, he’s working on a formal request to include rubgy into the school’s sports regiment. “I mean, we already have a field for it, the extra equipment wouldn’t be that taxing on the budget, I don’t know why she keeps turning it down!” He mutters to himself, frustrated.

His concentration is quickly interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door. He seemed to be very popular today, and he still wasn’t sure if he was happy about it. “Uh yeah, what’s up? Come on in.” He drops his pen and leans back in his chair, rubbing the exhaustion out of his eyes as best as he can before his guest has a chance to speculate on his activities.

[misspawncealot-deactivated20150]

Visit to the Carpurr

Meulin didn’t like the afternoon, there were no classes and she didn’t really like being in her room, but she never liked being in that small space unless she had to. It only takes her a couple of minutes to change before she’s outside, toms on with a tank top and shorts, just to grate on the headmistress’ all seeing eyes. It’s warm outside, summer still clinging to the air as winter creeps into its territory, and Meulin can’t wait to get to the field where she’s sure Carver is. She has a skip in her step, still hating the whole shoe thing, but she knows that she can take them off as soon as she gets to the field.

Only when she gets to the field there’s no Carver. This makes her sigh because this means that he’s in his office, which is a boring place just as small as her room if not smaller. She sprints to the staff building in a burst of energy and makes it there in no time flat. Meulin clears her throat and knocks on Carver’s door. “Carpurr!~ Why aren’t you on the field? It’s so sunny outside!” She screams through the door, making a few teachers poke their heads out of their offices.

[airbornesummoner]

Ethan Carver was having a very long day. He’s been on campus for over a week and he’s still buried under a torrent of preliminary paperwork ranging from equipment requisitions to insurance forms. When he was offered a job as an athletic director, so was under the assumption it would be a lot more field time and a lot less paperwork. He figured now would be the perfect time for a break, expecting one of his wards to arrive at any moment. He planned to write off this personal time as a business expense.

After a while, he looks down to consult his watch. There was no way Meulin was taking this long to show up. She always had a tendency to be at his door before he managed to hit send on the e-mail, and it was odd that this time was different. As he glances out his window, he catches a glimpse of his expected student making a trip from the field back toward the staff building. Oops. Probably should have specified where he was going to be in the e-mail. Oh well, you can never have too much walk time in a day.

Before he can even sit down, there’s a knock at the door. “Uh yeah, come on in.” He decides that the giant stacks of paper on his desk have to go, and drops piles of the papers onto the floor behind his desk, freeing up a line of sight across the desk.

[airbornesummoner]

Hello, Mr. Carver. It's Navarro Beclenn. I was wondering if maybe we could talk. If it isn't too much trouble.

Oh sup bec! Long time no talk

Yeah buddy i’m totally free if you want to swing by and have a chat or we can keep doing the whole email thing

Whichever works for you

[airbornesummoner]

(=・∀・=)< CARPURR! THERE'S BOYS FIGHTING OVER ME I THINK! WHAT DO I DO? :((

Oh shit sorry meulin! I uh sort of forgot to check my email today, been really busy with teacher stuff. Y’know how it is.

But shit that does sort of sound like an interesting problem. Uhhh, if you want to drop by and talk about it that’s cool

[airbornesummoner]

Carver: Pay an Old Friend a Visit

The wrinkled shred of paper between Carver’s fingers was hardly legible, signs of frequent folding and unfolding evident across the entirely of the expanse. The Marquise’s engine rumbled in impatient anticipation as she idled at the edge of the road.

He sighed and looked up at the cold, sterile-looking colossus of a building towering before him. The words “SkaiaNet Labs” adorned the facade in sleek, monochrome letters. This was definitely the right place, but he was hoping that there was a different, more welcoming SkaiaNet Labs somewhere down the road. Quickly abandoning such hope, he shifted his paramour into gear and crept along the pavement to the closed gate and accompanying callbox.

He rustled through the papers splayed across the passenger’s seat and retrieved a small plastic card from one of the folders. A quick reread of the letter confirmed that the process was simple: “...and a quick flick of the card over the front of the 8ox should open the g8!" Taking the instructions in good faith, he did just that. Seconds after, a dull beep sounded from the box and the gate slowly creaked open, grating sounds of metal on metal chiming loudly from the mechanism.

The gate closed behind as he entered, as slowly and loudly as it had opened. This gave him an odd feeling in his stomach that he was trapped in this overly utilitarian prison. The parking lot was relatively deserted, unsurprising given how few people must be on campus this long before the start of the term. He consulted the map as he passed by the increasingly massive spires that made up the Institute’s facilities, taking note of the staff building that he was going to have to trek to from the parking lot.

He spotted the athletic field and the gymnasium as he shut the door of his car, gathering as many of the folders he thought he would need for this visit, but resolved to explore his new domain in its totality after he got his preliminary business taken care of. The trek to the staff building was less dramatic than he had made it out to be in his head. Then again, in his head this was some sort of James Cameron dystopia that would inevitably be his undoing. Of course all of this was just nerves, or at least he hoped it was just nerves.

This particular building was the smallest of the ones in immediate view, which gave him some semblance of comfort. The doors slid open as he approached them, causing some unseen speaker to chime out a chipper alert to those working within. He waved to the receptionist, who held her arm out down one of the hallways in an attempt to guide him. “Oh, I guess you are expecting me, huh? If you see walk by again, just assume I somehow got lost.” He chuckled nervously and walked down the hallway, his posture shrinking slightly from his shining introduction.

The hallway ended at a set of double doors. The plaque next to the door read: “Dr. Fortuna Serket. Headmistress. Office Hours: 1500 - 1800.” in ornate, filigreed letters. Oddly the most vibrant thing he had run into so far. He cleared his throat and stiffened his posture, rapping a series of three resounding knocks into the sturdy wood.

This was going to be an interesting day.