Wilhelm chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought. This Issac fellow seemed familiar, especially with his talk of a chief. It seemed as though he night be a part of the upper circle that Wilhelm had heard so little, but dreamt so much.
His amber eyes narrowed. Being what he was, by nature...
The Fop was, in fact, Wilhelm.
The part-time daggerman sat at a table in The Quartz Thorn for a good long while. His hair, despite being thick and long, had dried by this point in the night. Now, it was braided together; a few strands of his earthen brown hair fell from the braid. The stray...
Wilhelm laid in bed, daydreaming. His lithe fingers traced the thick, surgical scars that lined his chest. They were rough, crude, experimental, even. He knew them well, the way they cut across his skin, leaving savage marks. Nothing leftuntouched in their wake. But luckily for him, his pectoral...
“Well then, make haste.” Petrus spoke, his gravelly voice echoing slightly in the stone chambers of his mansion. His dark eyes showed no humor; his mouth was set into a thin line of annoyance.
The fellow Eye placed a fist over his heart and bowed. He kept this position as he proceeded...
Bruce glared evilly at the creature. "What do you want?" He asked darkly. His voice was raspy and angry. And then he was hit by food. "Is this really a supernatural food fight?"
(Bruce is totally available [no he's not secretly checking out students] so you can hit on him too. :P )
He frowned slightly while listening to Florence's conversation. Bruce looked up and sighed, trying to send his sympathy across the room to her. He doubted that he succeeded, being one of...
Bruce sat and ate quietly. He had a simple rice dish and a glass of warm tea. He sat cross-legged on the cushion-y seat and munched with chop sticks on his food. It was a habit he had gained while traveling the world. He glanced over to some of his students and smiled, lingering on Florence.
Bruce had pulled out a large, long haired guinea pig. He scratched Dixie behind the ear, and the little rodent squeaked lightly in happiness. "I know a little cafe hear that has a very good pannini press. I can point it out to you guys, but I have to head back and load these fellows up."
Bruce chuckled lowly and began wheeling the cart of animals out. From the box on top came a loud squeak and the teacher stared at it intensely. "Dixie! Shush!"
Bruce smiled. "I think you'll like Mr. Rogers then. Or Dingy." He entered the pet store the obligatory ding. After few minutes of ID waving and chatting, a man wheeled out a cart with five different cages and tanks. "See? Too many, really."
Bruce nodded and began walking to the nearby pet store. "Yep. Bruce Rosenfelt. I let the students call me by either." He smiled. "I hope you guys don't get weird-ed out by animals too much. I've got some... interesting fellows." He smiled and rubbed his neck nervously.
Bruce hummed slightly and smiled. "So maybe Kumiko will stay awake in class now if you join us. Or did I misunderstand?" He shifted the bag on his hip again. "You girls want to grab a bite to eat, or would you like to go pick up my little menagerie with me?" A grin flashed across his chiseled...
(Kumiko! You win. Anybody else can interject if they want.)
Bruce walked up to Kumiko, a smile on his face. "So? One of Ko-Ko's friends?" The teacher shifted his brown paper bag full of groceries and trinkets to one hip and struck out a hand to Ayami. "I'm Kumiko's Biology and Eastern Civics...
(I dunno what to write, @NotAllThatCreative. Do you want Bruce to interject into the conversation? Does anyone else wanna play with my little Brucie? :3)