skull_joke
in
xi_rpg
[OPEN / ACTIVE]
Characters: Brook, OPEN
Location: On a boat, motherf In his office.
Time: Some afternoon the first week of classes. Take your pick.
Content: Your friendly neighborhood band teacher getting things in order for future awesomeness. Feel free to interrupt him IF YOU DARE no I'm just kidding he doesn't mind. Although it's hard for him to mind much of anything, seeing as how he has no brain. Kill me. Oh wait I'm already
Warnings: General eccentricity.
Note: If multiple people reply to this post, I'd rather do several small threads than one with more than a few people posting in it. He'll be in the office a while.
While it was true that Brook did not believe in assigning homework to his students, he hadn't set any particular rule about assigning homework to himself. Although really, it was the children who had done the assigning; the little plastic cases in two neat stacks on his otherwise cluttered desk were artists they enjoyed, and after that first day quizzing them Brook had proceeded to use a little more of the rather impressive teaching budget on ordering copies of everything that had not already been borrowed. The...the thing, he still slipped up on remembering what it was besides 'not a record player' but just the same it had been the only article of modern technology that had gone along with his inexperience without making a fuss, and so he decided he liked it well enough.
That he attributed the relatively painless learning curve to the personality of an inanimate object rather than a rare moment of complete focus on his part only briefly struck him as peculiar, and was then forgotten.
His quest to learn the upcoming course material currently had him working his way through Miss Wildman's suggestion again, the one with the snake and dagger on the cover. Like most of the others it was new, or at least it was newer than he was, and in its newness it occasionally left him feeling terribly misplaced in the grand scheme of things. And yet, as he'd told the empty room before, it wasn't going to kill him to try to get the hang of all this, and he did feel that he was getting there. Also he rather especially liked the one, a revolution, or reach out and touch the day, we're overdue something something he hadn't learned it all yet but it was nice.
That wasn't the one on at the moment though. Currently it was something rather more boisterous: when we started this band sll we needed, needed was a laugh / Years gone by...I'd say we've kicked some ass - and so what if some of the language happened to be words he didn't use himself, he'd stopped worrying about long before his death. Boisterous it was, and excellent at chasing little uneasy flickers of something-or-other from the corners of a room that was never permitted to be silent. Oh yes, it would do nicely.
There probably was some oddity in listening to Mötley Crüe while re-stringing and generally tidying up a slightly shabby violin, but if so it probably wasn't all that important anyway.
Location: On a boat, motherf In his office.
Time: Some afternoon the first week of classes. Take your pick.
Content: Your friendly neighborhood band teacher getting things in order for future awesomeness. Feel free to interrupt him IF YOU DARE no I'm just kidding he doesn't mind. Although it's hard for him to mind much of anything, seeing as how he has no brain. Kill me. Oh wait I'm already
Warnings: General eccentricity.
Note: If multiple people reply to this post, I'd rather do several small threads than one with more than a few people posting in it. He'll be in the office a while.
While it was true that Brook did not believe in assigning homework to his students, he hadn't set any particular rule about assigning homework to himself. Although really, it was the children who had done the assigning; the little plastic cases in two neat stacks on his otherwise cluttered desk were artists they enjoyed, and after that first day quizzing them Brook had proceeded to use a little more of the rather impressive teaching budget on ordering copies of everything that had not already been borrowed. The...the thing, he still slipped up on remembering what it was besides 'not a record player' but just the same it had been the only article of modern technology that had gone along with his inexperience without making a fuss, and so he decided he liked it well enough.
That he attributed the relatively painless learning curve to the personality of an inanimate object rather than a rare moment of complete focus on his part only briefly struck him as peculiar, and was then forgotten.
His quest to learn the upcoming course material currently had him working his way through Miss Wildman's suggestion again, the one with the snake and dagger on the cover. Like most of the others it was new, or at least it was newer than he was, and in its newness it occasionally left him feeling terribly misplaced in the grand scheme of things. And yet, as he'd told the empty room before, it wasn't going to kill him to try to get the hang of all this, and he did feel that he was getting there. Also he rather especially liked the one, a revolution, or reach out and touch the day, we're overdue something something he hadn't learned it all yet but it was nice.
That wasn't the one on at the moment though. Currently it was something rather more boisterous: when we started this band sll we needed, needed was a laugh / Years gone by...I'd say we've kicked some ass - and so what if some of the language happened to be words he didn't use himself, he'd stopped worrying about long before his death. Boisterous it was, and excellent at chasing little uneasy flickers of something-or-other from the corners of a room that was never permitted to be silent. Oh yes, it would do nicely.
There probably was some oddity in listening to Mötley Crüe while re-stringing and generally tidying up a slightly shabby violin, but if so it probably wasn't all that important anyway.