[center][img=http://fontmeme.com/newcreate.php?text=Hayden%20Hanse%20Hawthorne&name=Don_Quixote.ttf&size=40&style_color=48C0C4] [i]"The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday..."[/i][/center] --- The perks of having dogs. Or rather, the cons of having dogs. They were walking alarm clocks. Feeling the pressure of two fifty pound balls of white fur was enough to wake almost anyone up. Add to that excited panting and hushed barks, and it was nearly impossible to go back to sleep, no matter how many pillows there were. Barely able to see through the flurry of white, Hayden Hanse Hawthorne sneaked a very inhibited peak at the clock on his nightstand. 5 A.M. was way too early. With a deep groan, he forced the two dogs from his back, flopping them panting and writhing onto the hardwood floor below. The rest of the morning was an absolute lull. Get up, get dressed, run hand through hair, jog around the block, more work outs, shower, shave, brush teeth, run hand through hair—no gel required for assembly—fix breakfast, scoff at the taste of orange juice, feed the dogs, deep sigh, remember to walk the dogs, groan as one of the dogs defecates on someone's mailbox, head back home, get fully dressed in a nice three-piece suit (Ralph Lauren with freshly polished Oxfords), run hand through hair one more time, remember to put deodorant on, get redressed, hop in the car, run to Starbucks to get a mocha chai tea latte grande with extra sugar and vanilla and cinnamon, and then finally arrive at the school. Hayden was among one of the few teachers who actually lived in the apartment complex not too far from the Academy. He spent all of the school year living at his home away from home. Actually, the fact that he lived there for a little over three-fourths of the entire year should make it his actual home. In fact, he spent both Christmas and New Years in the apartment, usually with Acacia, since she couldn't handle more than summer vacation back home with the parents. He'd do his best to make her feel at home, but just being with her brother seemed to be enough. She'd always tell him, "Just being here is the best gift you could give me," to which he'd smile, blush a deep red from flattery, and insist she open her presents. Smiling at the thought, he noticed the newest arrival standing rather rigidly by the entrance. This wasn't officially the principal's first day of school, but it would be his first day seeing any of the faces that would be attending Caelbury. Walking up to him, Hayden stopped to gather himself, actually looking into the shiny part of his suitcase to make sure there was nothing in his teeth before continuing up to the entrance. Brenden had already made his move inside as Hayden approached, coughing slightly and putting the hand that held his coffee to his chest. "M-morning..." he cleared his throat, "Morning, Mr. Aldrin. Let me get that for you." Placing his hand just above Brenden's, Hayden pushed the door forward the rest of the way to let the man in. A sheepish grin was plastered onto his face as he moved in front of Brenden, though he paused in his turn. "Hayden Hawthorne," he greeted, finally facing Brenden with his hand outstretched, suitcase clenched under his armpit, "We met a few days ago. I'll be yours... your... uh, Vice Principal and colleague, as you already know." That was awkward. Bad second impression. His stark blue eyes shifted to the side and his outstretched hand moved to gesture down the hall. "I, uh, actually can't talk right now. Your office should be across from mine in the administration building. I have to, um, see to something, really quick. It was nice meeting you," he spoke as he was leaving, yelling the last bit as he disappeared around a corner, mumbling, "You're so stupid," repeatedly as he did. Pretty much running down the halls now, Hayden rounded another corner and into the teacher's lounge, immediately greeted by a familiar face. The breath he hadn't realized he was holding was released in a long, loud huff. None other than Acacia, whose appearance brought a bright smile to his face as did the cookies, was seated casually atop the table. In the split second he recognized her, Hayden made a quick move toward the plate of cookies, setting the coffee and his suitcase beside Acacia. Not a word was spoken as he shoved everything back and sat right next to her, bringing the plate on to his lap as he brought his head down onto his sister's shoulder. His height didn't help, but he managed whilst silently chewing on the cookie in his hand, sipping his coffee between bites. --- [center][img=http://fontmeme.com/newcreate.php?text=Flynn%20Pietr%20Zimmerman&name=CELTG___.ttf&size=20&style_color=1996B5] [i]"Fact: bears eat beets; bears, beets, 'Battlestar Galactica.'"[/i][/center] --- Flynn, unlike many other people, was almost always the earliest arrival. This year was no different; he had to get Oedipus settled back into his makeshift home, of which he did in a snap. The cat crawled onto the wooden desk placed in the far corner of the room. It was out of the way, hidden, almost, behind a massive bookshelf; the computer on it did well to actually conceal him, despite his height. The room itself was crowded with desks all arranged in a tight-knit circle situated near the large whiteboard. Most of his classes were that of participation, with essays on the side, which was the cause for the arrangement. The janitors knew how he taught and got used to it, often making a nice arrangement before the day started. Due to the mobile nature of teenagers, it was all in vane; the desks would soon be scattered who knows where in who knows what fashion. How they all managed it with his eyes on each individual was one of the few mysteries he had yet to solve. A soft mewling caught his attention, accompanied by a furry underbelly situating itself atop his outstretched hands. The cat nonchalantly turned to look straight at him and his smiling face—a rare occasion. That was Oedipus' way of gathering attention and the fatter he got the more efficiently it worked. He'd have to catch his students before they fed him anymore treats. If you'd asked him at the beginning of his first year he'd scoff at the idea of making such a rule, now he couldn't live without it: Oedipus had gained approximately ten pounds every year. For a cat that was a damn lot. Standing, Flynn straightened out his dull grey suit, pulling the black tie taught as he moved toward the lone cabinet next to a smaller bookshelf. He gathered the materials for the cat's breakfast, a bowl and his actual food—the water he'd have to get in the teacher's lounge—and set them beside his desk. Another mewl as he sat the food down and grabbed the other bowl, making his way outside. The cat followed in hot pursuit. It was a sight for anyone to see: one of the taller men in the Academy, whom people could barely find anyhow, trailed by a large white cat that whined and complained the whole way down the hall. He didn't appreciate leaving the confines of Flynn's room—the cat, that is—and he made it known to everybody. It was actually the one time out of any that people could locate Dr. Zimmerman, who always had a deep frown ready to flash at anyone who dared look at him. He didn't like attention, preferring the walls he'd always stuck to as a child. But, with no one yet around, save a few teachers, he was happy to ignore the cat's constant wailing. Well, until he ran into people inside the teacher's lounge. "Hayden," he muttered upon entering, accompanied by a loud meow, "Acacia." One of the Hawthornes smiled as he lifted his head from the other's shoulder, gesturing for him to take a cookie. Nodding, he did and then silently worked his way toward the sink. Oedipus, having somehow snatched a cookie for himself, was fiddling around next to the faucet, making a mess while he ate and stared at Flynn. With a roll of his eyes, he waved and departed with both the cat and the water. Setting everything down upon entering, he moved behind his desk and simply sat, looking over lesson plans and whatever else he could find on the internet, while he ate the cookie he'd been holding in his mouth. Oedipus didn't touch the food he poured out before sitting down, too preoccupied with the treat. The cat would regret it later and he'd happily tell him, "I told you so." Now, though, he was quietly waiting for a call from his mother. --- [center][img=http://fontmeme.com/newcreate.php?text=Saul%20Hannibal%20Kirschenzweig&name=Feathergraphy2.ttf&size=30&style_color=660525] [i]"Just because it is, doesn't mean it should be.'"[/i][/center] --- Bed made, rigorous training finished, panting breath, and ready for a shower. Just how he liked his mornings. Saul stepped out of the bathroom smiling brightly after his routine grooming, not clean shaven as usual—years in the military made him adore keeping his facial hair afterwards, to an unhealthy degree—but well groomed and slightly trimmed, he moved from his bathroom and immediately into his kitchen where he made sure to stock his fridge full of the best organic food and drink he could. Organic because it was healthy and not because of some damn lifestyle or some shit, and his own well-being actually required it. He liked veggies as a kid and now he loved them, but he also had a deep romantic interest in various, delicious meats, including, but not limited to steak, sushi, ribs, wings, schnitzel, pot pies, turkey. If not for the diet he was forced to adhere to, then he'd most likely splurge on whatever he could, not because he used to, but because he hadn't had the pleasure in a long, long time. After fixing breakfast, he dressed himself and ate, his eyes on the news and weather blaring in his living room. All routine, like usual. Gathering Dallas and Esther, he drank the last of his shake and headed into the hall of his complex and out the door. The ride to the Academy was a short one and he would have almost caught the two at the door, if not for his own bag spilling out its contents into his trunk. Whispering various curses to himself, he gathered his supplies and the birds and made a dash for the doorway, rounding the corner in a slight hurry, only turning to lock his car door. Of course, he seemed to have only missed one individual, being greeted by a rather friendly, though nervous looking face in front of the entrance. Hand containing the bag outstretched, he introduced himself, "Saul Krischenzweig. Last name's hard to pronounce so Saul or Kirsch is fine." He paused for a second, looking the man over to scrutinize him. "You look really young for a principal," he said with a slight frown that immediately disappeared, "but, I guess that can be a good thing. I'll reserve any judgment until later. I'm Caelbury's drama and theatrical teacher." One of the birds squawked, catching the Sual's attention. He quickly apologized, excused himself, and made his way to his classroom. The room itself was situated in between the amphitheater and dance studio, where most of his classes would be held. The room was designed for some of the other subjects he taught, but it held all the necessities for a class suited for his line of work. A large wooden door led to the expansive backstage of the theatre, situated so that it wasn't quite in the way, but it was still obvious enough to find easily. Opposite that door lay another identical one, leading straight into the dance studio. His desk was shoved into a corner, next to a large whiteboard where the projector on the ceiling was faced toward. All of the desks were shoved a bit back, almost near the entrance, to allow for a large vacant space between the first row and the board. The room itself was rather large, held various shelves of artwork and posters of varying design, usually of Broadway famous plays, but also of various movies. Behind his desk sat a more impressive array of playbills, the only odd one being a Marine Corps poster. Everything else was designed just as anyone would think a drama class would, with various theatrical decorations and various shelves holding what looked to be books and movies. It was all very organized, tidy, and exactly how he left it last year, but cleanlier and more polished. This was exactly how it should feel, organized, clean, shining, and something to be proud of. Saul smiled brightly as he set the bird cage down on the stand just behind his desk, finding a fresh bag of bird feed right below. He'd have to thank the janitors sometime later. Saul filled the small bowl inside and did the same to their water dish. Finally, with everything finished, Saul let himself relax into his chair, ready to once again look over his schedule for the year and any other formalities he may have missed.