#marilyndolorosa

[theprefecthastestified-blog]

Dirk==> check up on your classes

Dirk waited politely outside the office, knowing and respecting that Aranea was taking her time. When she was finished he gave a polite wave to her and a smile, before slipping into the office to speak with the counsellor. 
“Good morning Ms. Dolorosa. I trust that everyone’s been behaving with you today?” He asked kindly, his own wording of checking up on her

[theprefecthastestified-blog]

Dirk ==> Make sure your classes are correct

It seemed to be a rather common occurance really. That he would do his job, and everyone would hate him for it. He fiddled with his sweater, on which the crest of his school was sitting proudly. Why couldn’t people understand that this was a business school? They were here to prepare for their lives. And as none of them were going to be professional water sliders, he knew it was foolish to have the stupid water slide in the first place. He tugged on his sweater as he walked, making sure he looked perfect in front of the student body. He had to be a leader after all. When he arrived at his destination he smiled. There was Aranea, perfect as ever. He had always admired her dedication to keeping herself in check and her studies wide. Granted he found history to be a tedious subject to learn over and over, but his admiration was there nonetheless. He sat in the chair outside of the Ms. Dolorosa’s office, patiently waiting his turn to speak with her.

[jacobenglishschooled-blog]

Jake ==> Seek Out Advisory

After about an hour or so after the droning and monotonous assembly  jake had just about dawned on the realization that the school rightfully put was going to be hellish for him. He was a boy used to excessive personal freedoms, now constricted to conform to a thing as dictatorial as rules upon what  he was supposed to eat and wear and think. It was easy to think that he was not in the highest of spirits. Still he kept his chin up, if first impressions were everything he didn't want everyones first impressions of the strange homeschooled boy to be that he was some spineless downer of a wet noodle. 

On that less than dreary thought, boy english happened upon the counselor's office. He was probably ten or so minuets late, but he didn't plan on taking too long. His mouth turned upwards in an awkward friendly  grin and he peaked around the corner into the space. It seemed at least a little less toxic than the rest of the neat sharp formal school. There were more cool colors, he could relax a little. He cleared his throat to grasp the ladies attention." Hello there mam. I'm not terribly late am i? These hallways are worse than the labyrinth of the minitor".