[h1][colour=firebrick]Alistair Kuruz[/colour][/h1]

Pale fingers traced with intricate crimson runes combed through a black mess of hair, strands falling over the sleep deprived eyes of the fingers owner. Glasses in the other hand, the man known as Liseranna’s Prodigy poured over the tome he had selected from the Academy’s Library. It was the history and the rank and file of the Angelic Army and Demonic hordes. Alistair sighed gently, the work was mostly opinion and awfully cited...why did he always have to deal with this. The fingers moved from the hair to the bridge of his nose, rubbing gently to alleviate some stress that the tome has been giving him. 

“What bullshit” Alistair swore violently and the tome was tossed aside. The black haired teacher stood up groggily, grabbing the glass of ice and scotch that was beside him. His mouth pressed to the glass and he downed the rest of the scotch. He growled gently as the burn slipped down his throat. It was morning but Alistair hadn’t slept. Drinking through the night was probably a bad choice on the first day of school. Boy he was glad he had a good constitution. Alistair closed his eyes and and replaced his glasses. He looked down at the jeans and white shirt he had on and knew he needed to go shower and change. 

-Some time later- 

Alistair walked through the crowds of the students that paid him no mind. He was young enough to look like an older returning student, that was a slight benefit. Before they knew he was their teacher, he could learn some things. Regardless he watched the new and old returning. He greeted some old students of his and smiled, nodding gently. He watched the Director and raised an eyebrow. He could never comprehend that man, he respected him...but didn’t understand how he could be so strong and so lax at the same time. Alistair flexed his fingers gently, putting a cigarette to his mouth and igniting it with a flame on the tip of his index finger. He breathed in gently, the tobacco filling his lungs. The nerves he had been feeling passed as his eyes were drawn to the handkerchief that the Director had thrown. He frowned. Such a wasteful trick. Alistair decided to walk towards his classroom, to await the first class of his.