Rigger gazed out upon all of the new students while Wick droned on and on. Sure, he understood why Arthur did this every year, but, not all teachers have the time to be standing around doing nothing, not when syllabi need polishing and supplies need purchasing. The dwarf, stout of body and stouter of attitude, sighs with relief when the ceremony draws to a close. He tugs on his beard as he trundles off toward the school, contemplating which demonstration he should open with. He decides on a demonstration of composite materials.

His thoughts then turned to the new students. Rigger was not entirely sure that everyone could be trusted, and he had lived long enough to learn that giving [i]everyone[/i] the benefit of the doubt was an open invitation for trouble. He'd humor his colleagues and give everyone a chance, regardless of what his intuition might tell him. He strode into his office with all of the authority a tenured professor ought to have. He surveyed the room, making sure nobody left him any paperwork. Oh, how he resented paperwork.

After signing a few forms, he walks out, his hands tucked into his pockets. Rigger offers a polite wave to a few passing students as he meanders toward the cafeteria. Upon reaching his destination, he grabs a tray of food, and takes a seat, waiting for whomever might seek an audience with him.