#hellaciousjocular

[glow-in-the-umbra]

School Etiquette

Ditch Day. The one day a year where all the students are actually allowed to cut class and have a break from the grueling repetition of their classes. Yes, everybody loved ditch day! After all who wouldn’t, even the most dedicated of learners enjoy having a break every now and then. And going to class on ditch day was about as embarrassing as having your trousers yanked down in the hallway during middle school. If only Calliope knew that today was Ditch Day. Yes, sadly Calliope’s first day of class was on ditch day, and she nobody on campus had informed her of this. The campus was deathly quiet as everyone got in extra sleep, except for the early birds of course. My my, I wonder why campus is so quiet today. Just yesterday i was woken up by the chatter of people heading to their classes, but today it seems their all gone! Calliope thought as she headed to her first class of the day. History class, not Callie’s favorite class but one she definitely enjoyed. While she much more enjoyed thinking about what is, and what could be, there was nothing wrong in learning about what has been. Calliope shivered in the chilled air of winter, her light green jacket doing little to protect her from the cold. Yes that jacket, while it felt absolutely wonderful and felt amazing to wear, was near worthless otherwise. It even had her families insignia on the chest, over the heart. As Calliope entered class, she was absolutely shocked to find that the class was completely empty. She tried to blame it on being early, but as she checked her watch she found that she was certainly not early. She had just barely made it to class on time in fact, which made everyone's absence even more puzzling. “Ich glaube ich spinne...” Calliope said out loud. That was a German expression that translated to ‘I think I’m spinning’ or, in a more common american way of putting it, ‘I think I’m going crazy’. Calliope removed her jacket, revealing her white button up shirt and lime green suspenders, then tied it around her waste. Ill wait ten minutes and then leave. Calliope convinced herself. It didn’t take very long for that plan to get busted, as the history teacher entered the room and closed the door behind him. Calliope wouldn’t have noticed if the door wasn’t rather loud when closing. She nearly jumped out of her seat as she shouted “Mein lieber Herr Gesangsverein!” (A German expression that translates to ‘My Dear Choir’, or ‘My Goodness!’), turning to see one of the largest people she had ever seen. Not exactly large in girth, but more in combined height and muscle. He was a true mountain of a man, but Calliope could already tell she stood taller than him by at least an inch. She couldn’t tell if his hair was brown, or black, but it was kept neat and combed. There was something familiar about him that she couldn’t put her finger on.

[professorspiderbite-blog]

Nine Wraths Chili.

It was time, Finally. After weeks of tracking her parents down, a few weeks more of bartering and haggling, Asipha finally had it. A recipe that had been in her family for generations, tracing it all the way back to the ass end of the twenty first century. She cared little for the name of the dish-it was apt, sure, but sounds like something an edgy redneck cooked up-What mattered was that it was delicious. The Nine Wraths of Hell Chili was something that Asipha’s own mother had cooked for special occasions and during family gatherings which featured many hungry people. The recipe called for, of course, nine different chili sauces of intensifying degree’s of heat, Tomato chunks, and three different chili beans, ground beef, pork and chicken, as well as steak and chicken chunks and bacon. Asipha couldn’t resist a strip or two of bacon herself, a guilty pleasure to be sure, especially since Asipha sought out to lose some weight.  She told her daughters that she had company due over, thus the big dish, but neglected to tell them who exactly was coming over. She grinned as she imagined the look on Carlos Makara’s face when she sets the portions down in front of him, challenging him to try all different nine portions. The dish started with a large pot, then several more with the bottoms cleaved off, to keep all the pots level with one another, and to keep each hotter ring of chili separated from one another. As the dish was finished up, the only thing left to do was to set the table and keep the dish warm. “Mm. Aranea, Vriska, Come help me set the table. The big one.” She said, in reference to an old, and rather dusty looking long-table, made to sit, at the very most, ten people. This meant moving their small little round-table out of the dining room, a task Asipha took upon herself. 

[hellaciousjocular-blog]

Nasty Ink

Carlos was feeling a little homesick. There was just something that made the Makara feel nostalgic for his old home, sure his old home was pretty much a shit hole but that was hardly the point. In fact, it was the shitty things he missed the most, The smell of cigarettes that wafted through the streets, the loud bickering of two motherfuckers yelling at eachother over the price of some disgusting meat the butcher scrounged together, it added to the charm. But if there was thing that he missed the most it was the fights, the groups of scum gathering to bet on who would get their face punched in and who would lose a few teeth. The Columbia this judge new was no more than an awful place with even worse people, but it was his awful city. It was nothing like this place, this place had decent people from all over and it was cleaner, but that just made it feel fake, it was as if the place he was in wasn’t real and just some naive spoiled child’s view of the world.

Not to mention Carlos couldn’t keep up with his usual workouts since he came to this place, all the running around to get the job straightened out and the unpacking made things rather hectic. So when the fighter had heard they had a gym with some top of the line equipment, he couldn’t resist and made for the gym as soon as he was able. He did all the workouts he could when he arrived, especially the punching bag, and now he was just finishing his last set of pull ups. It also helped that he didn’t have to wear that monkey suit anymore and went shirtless for his workout, he was covered in tattoos all across his back and chest and would rather not explain why and where he got them to the students. Sure the God tattoos would be easy, but the death imagry would probably not be a good idea to explain. But this, this was where he could show the ink and be proud of it and after finishing his pull ups and landing on the ground with a large thud, he grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his body. While wiping the proof of his work away the tall man looked at the door only to find someone standing there and judging by their face, they’ve been standing there for a while. “You…uhhh… Hey.” Yeah, real smooth Makara.

[carnifexexecutive-blog]

All Hot and Fathered

While the first few cooking classes that Tierra had taught were mostly her trying to keep idiots from cutting their fingers off and preventing the act of burning the campus to the ground, after a while she got used to and almost sort of enjoyed teaching her class. Well, sure, there was always that one kid that couldn’t be taught anything - this time around it being a blond boy in shades - but Tierra could deal with that so long as everyone else was capable of following basic instruction. Which they fortunately were. Which luckily meant the only thing she had to do after class was tidy up her work station and not have to spend extra time cleaning up everyone else’s mess as well. That just meant she hopefully wouldn’t be late to pick up her old friend from the shuttle-port, the Peixes humming to herself casually while organizing and wiping down counters.

For Tierra, it had been years since she saw Carlos Makara - Lawyer, ex-fighter, stud - and even longer since they had been able to just... Talk. She still considered him maybe her oldest and closest friend despite their odd relations after her husband died. It was trying for both of them, her losing her partner and him losing a lifelong friend, and really all they had at the time was each other. It ended up after that, despite the two of them hating how the other took up Colonius’ time at the start, that they had come to tolerate each other, and even work well together as Carlos got hired as Tierra’s personal lawyer. Sure, his license may be less than legitimate for all she knew, but if he won lawsuits she didn’t care. Well, then Carlos’ wife went like Colonius, and admittedly, things got very weird for them at her funeral. And things really shouldn’t’ve been weird.

Well. there were only so many times you could openly deny to yourself that you may or may not’ve nailed your friend at his wife’s funeral. Because, and let’s face it, that isn’t a very classy move no matter how many glasses of funeral wine you have in your system. The fact that she could still remember the statue of Jesus staring down at them with that ever condescending look that Jesus statues usually had on their smug-ass messiah faces wasn’t a really good sign either. But anyways, weird past behind her - far far far behind her - the Crocker Mogul kept to cleaning her work space, looking down at the mess of pancake batter splattered against the tile wall behind her sink and sighing exasperatedly while she leaned over to wipe up the mess, not paying any heed to the sound of footsteps behind her - it was probably one of her dumbass students picking up their backpack that they forgot - and drawling disinterestedly, “Ey, if ya gonna keep fo’gettin’ ya shit in here I’mma start throwin’ all’a it in th-” Before abruptly stopping talking as she felt the trespasser’s hands grope her ass firmly.

 Unsure what the hell was going on, Tierra paused for a moment before her brain snapped like an elastic band and she spun around, kicking her assailant as hard in the back of the knee as she could while her open hand came up, striking them with a deafening skin-meeting-skin slap while she stumbled away from them, pausing for a moment before recognizing the person and accusing loudly, “Fuck, boy! Don’t sneak up on a bitch, or ya gonna get ya shit kicked in!”

[hellaciousjocular-blog]

A quick lesson

Carlos wasn’t one for following, being at the top for so long inevitable made one look down on the ones below his station. But now the Columbian man was fresh of the shuttle ready to try and not look completely incompetent. Needless to say he was nervous, really fucking nervous, so many things were running through his head; what if they stared at his tattoos, what if they asked about his scars? What was he going tell the little bastards, that he got them before he killed a man.

Arriving at the door of his classroom one thing became clear, the one thing any new guy would never want to realize on his first. “Fuck, I’m late.” The tall Makara entered his classroom and looked at all the faces staring back at him. Well it wasn’t like they were staring at him, more like just deciding to acknowledge his presence. The judge decided just how he would teach them, “Good morning class, I’m ya new law teacher Carlos Makara, but you’ll all call me Mr. Makara. If you have any questions before we start say them now because the rest of this you’ll be too busy listening to ask any fucking questions.”

Carlos stood looking at some of the kids shocked faces, wondering what had them so worked up. Until it finally dawned on his hairy head.

Shit, he just swore to his class on his first fucking day.