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 Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2014 4:41 pm
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Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2014 4:44 pm
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Characters
 Vincent Michael Donatello "Vince"
College Freshmen
Age: 19 years
Orientation: Very Straight
Played by: Dolly at School
"Don't call me Vinny."
Vincent is short-tempered, ill-mannered and goal oriented. He drinks too much, and speaks his mind too quickly for his own good--which often lands him into trouble. Still, once he sets his mind on something, he gets it--no matter what he has to do in order to attain it.
His life revolves around his education, but there's more to him than meets the eye. While on the outside he appears to be your average arrogant, privileged brat there's a dark secret hidden deep inside that he will do anything he can to keep hidden.
Protect me from what I want.
Douglas Alfred Di'Domenico
"Douglas"College English Professor Age: 35 years Orientation: Cares little for sexual organs on partner Played by: AutumnrainChaos "My name is Douglas. Not Doug."Douglas is proper and demands to be respected. Even when he was a child, he disliked the nickname "Doug" as it made him sound like a backwards country boy. He hasn't been in a long-term relationship in years. He focuses on work, and is a very strict teacher. English is important and one should abide by its rules or go and live in the jungle with the apes. Even that is an insult. Apes are smarter than you if you can't speak proper. Let's not forget he's a chain smoker. You Fail. |
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Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2014 4:51 pm
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Vincent stared down at his returned assignment with a certain amount of horror. His stomach had twisted up deep inside him, and his usually pouty lips were now pulled into a tense, tight little frown. Bright blue eyes were narrowed intensely and his brow had furrowed just enough to speak volumes of his concern as he stared down at that red ink letter with a big stupid circle around it. A C? And not just a regular old C, but a C minus? How could that even have been possible?
Vincent always had an intense look about him--like he was angry at the world, or maybe...just really confused? Either way it tended to deter too many people from talking to him, and that was just fine by him. He spent all of his time working, doing homework, or at school...and whatever free time he had was usually spent catching up on missed sleep. He was pretty, despite that constant look of concern or damnation. He had eyes as blue as Aruban water, and his hair was a soft, pale blonde. He had an over-grown undercut for now, and full pouty lips that his older brother had constantly mocked him over with comments like 'Don't worry, Vinny. You'll grow into them.' God, he hated that nickname. He had broad shoulders and slender but tight and muscular arms. It was obvious he took great care in keeping in good shape. His clothes were lazy--always a pair of old dingy, ripped up jeans that seemed to fit his waist alright, but never hugged his legs the way a good pair of skinny jeans should and a hoodie that was faded and missing the hood string. Even his shoes were old and worn, but he didn't look poor or homeless really--just lazy.
If their professor had continued his lecture after passing back their assignments, he certainly didn't notice. His attention was focused solely on the travesty before him. The boy gave a low sigh and sank down a bit in that stupid tiny desk. He had to get out of here. He glanced up at the clock, jerking his head quickly to the side to toss his hair back out of his eyes. It didn't work--his hair fell right back into his line of vision, and he mentally noted that he needed a ******** haircut as he reached up to push his hair back with one hand. Class wasn't over just yet. s**t.
He turned back around and slid his tongue along his lower lip to moisten it, then lifted his eyes back up to his professor. He hadn't deserved a C. Sure, this paper wasn't his most brilliant work--but surely it was better than mediocre? It couldn't be possible that more than half of this class had done better than him. These people were idiots--rich brats who didn't have to worry about paying their own way through college like he did. He glanced around almost bitterly, then blew a puff of air up into his bangs and leaned back to stare back at their professor. Oh... he was talking. Had he been talking this whole time? Probably.
He needed a cigarette.
Class would be over soon enough. He could wait until then--he just had to be patient. When they were dismissed, he'd simply approach the professor and ask for a redo or something. College professors did that, right? He ******** hoped so--because he'd worked too hard to get that scholarship to lose it because of one stupid C. Okay--he probably wouldn't lose it over one C on one paper...but it still pissed him off something awful and he had to do something about it.
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Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2014 7:43 pm
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Being students in college and not in high school, though Douglas couldn't tell the difference sometimes, there was no bell to dismiss them, no chime or alarm to tell them to get the ******** out. No, it was when the big hand reached where it needed to be that his students all stood gathered their things and left with chattering echoing from them and into the halls. Douglas Di'Domenico tapped his pen against the pad in front of him, half-paying attention to what was written on it. He desperately wanted every one of these bastards to leave this rotten place so he could go to the teacher's lounge, get his jacket, and chain smoke heavily until his lungs blackened.
Why?
Every single one of his students did miserable on that paper, and what was worse was that he knew the test they'd be taking in a few days would only lower his respect for them and raise the probability of him getting fired. He had never had this problem before. Never. In the years past, his classes excelled in excellence (pardon the redundancy), and his work was praised. He had admired them all, nearly quit smoking and smiled--
And then this year started. Nearly every single student was a rich little p***k who got in because of mummy and daddy. And what made things even more terrible was that he wasn't permitted to fail them. So he had to lower the grading curve and give everyone passable grades. Ugh he felt sick to his stomach.
When the shadow of a Mr. Vincent Donatello (what was he, a Ninja Turtle?) loomed over him, his dark eyes flickered up and seared through the boy into his soul. "What?" he asked, setting his pen down. Boy he really wasn't a friendly fellow, was he? |
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2014 4:53 am
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Vincent had taken his time before approaching his professor. He waited for the room to clear out as he casually packed up his satchel, hoisting it onto his shoulder before wandering down to the front of his room, and lowering it to the floor just in front of Di'Domenico's desk. He had his paper in his hands as he stared at the man, waiting to be noticed. Luckily, it didn't take long.
He wasn't a very impressive sight standing up. He had broad shoulders, but he slouched when he stood and it only made his narrow waist and hips look even narrower with the curve of his spine like that. Nor was he terribly tall, not that he could be considered short. He had a lazy, unappreciative look about him--though he didn't mean for it to seem that way.
He released a low puff of air that almost sounded like a sigh when he was addressed like that. He wasn't intimidated by it--it took a lot to intimidate him. Had he not been so worked up about his grade, he might have muttered something like 'well, ******** you very much, too!' Instead, he held his paper up with an earnest frown.
"I wanted to talk to you about this... about doing some extra credit or a revision or something." He glanced at the clock. "Do you have a minute?"
Do you have a minute, of course, meant: I'm going to stick around until you give me an option to fix this. And if Professor Di'Domenico couldn't read between the lines, he could surely read the expression on Vincent's face: he was displeased and he meant business. Still, he hoped it wouldn't take too long to convince the man--as he still had to get home, do as much homework as possible and get to work. He would give up as much time as he needed to fix this egregious error though--he wasn't about to let this one stupid paper bring down his whole grade. |
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Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2014 7:27 am
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"Ooooh I'm sure you do, Mr. Donatello," said the older man, "but you see I'm not open for discussion on grades at the current time. If you'd like, take a number and I'll get to you when I get to you." He stood up, taking his things, and grabbing for his coat. Cigarettes. Now. "If you don't feel that is the appropriate answer, then email me. I can't say I'll read it, but it'll sit in my inbox for a few days until I delete it or my email deletes it automatically." He turned, eyes sharp. "If you don't like your grade, perhaps you should study harder, or some how convince your peers that this isn't 2nd Grade Story time and using improper grammar such as 'your' the possessive when one should be using 'you're' the contraction in sentences where where 'you are' is obviously correct." He fished out his prize and a lighter.
"I'm afraid you had to follow the grading curve. Do better, and they'll do worse, but I'm afraid in this particular situation, you just will not win." He slung his coat over his shoulder. "Good day, Mr. Donatello. And if you ever feel the need to confront me about a grade you feel is unfair and unjust... don't. It's not High School anymore. No one is here to hold your hand. Excuse me."
With the last of his things gathered, he made his way around his student and left the classroom. |
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Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2014 11:18 pm
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Vincent's brow twitched, and his nose wrinkled up slightly in a small, angry sneer. He exhaled and grabbed his bag, moving to follow behind his professor. "What is your problem?" he asked. "I'm coming to you asking you for help. You're a ******** college professor. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" He sped up, trying to get in front of the man to block him from continuing. "How is it my fault the rest of the class ******** up?" He had gone from earnest, to offended, to pissed off in a few seconds.
"My scholarship is dependent on my grades. If I don't keep my GPA above a 3.5, I lose it," he said--attempting to appeal to the man through guilt now. Somehow he already doubted it would work, but it was worth a shot. And aside from that, he didn't want to let this guy get the last word.
"I've always done well in this class. You can't just blow me off because you've got your panties in a twist about something." He sighed a little and gripped the corner of the paper in his hand tightly. "Look," he added quickly. "I'm not looking for a free ride here. I'll do the work. I'll do anything you tell me to do in order to get this grade back up." And we came full circle, right on back to earnest. |
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Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 7:24 pm
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Ahh, if only he knew what Douglas was going through. Life wasn't any easier for him, after all. The college had him by the balls, so to speak, and he had to be careful with what he did. If he made good students like Vincent the grading curve, then he'd be loosing a lot of students-- and his self-respect. He stared at the ground where his cherry fell and inhaled sharply so his nostrils flared. This was stupid. Incredibly stupid. He was done playing this namby-pamby game and patting this rich b*****d's hands.
And to think, one shitty little kid was what did it to him. Scratching at his neck and flicking his butt into the garbage, he marched his way back inside, grabbed his things, and headed straight into the Dean's office. "We need to talk."
The following morning, an announcement was left on the white board in the classroom. Most of the students had no idea what it meant, but those that did were shocked and muttered things about this or that parent hearing about it.
Starting today. You will be graded fairly. You will study, you will participate. You will also receive a pop quiz whenever I feel like it and quite often. You may wind up with two a day. The students who are NOT having mummy and daddy pay their way through college are those who will hold your future in their hands. If they do fantastical and you utterly ******** suck, oh well. The grading curve follows them. Good luck, you idiots. I can guarantee that almost half of you will fail by the end of next month.
If I see any cellphones or hear them during class, I will confiscate them, and dock you points.
"Pop Quiz," said Douglas as he came in. "Sit down, shut up, cell phones away or they're mine. Pencils, NOT pens. Take this, pass them out. You have 10 minutes." Papers were received. "Go." |
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Posted: Wed Apr 23, 2014 6:46 am
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