[log] Gin, Cuarta
Title: Naughty, Naughty Espada~
Characters: Cuarta (kendraxplague), Gin (supahukevaizard)
Rating: PG-ish? Some innuendo.
Timeline: November 17th, 2006
Summary: Cuarta has been late for her Psychology lessons, and Gin is not at all pleased. (Well...sort of)
Gin waited not so patiently behind his desk, staring out at the empty desks before him through slitted eyes. His grin was in place as always, seeming more dreamy now as he thought of a suitable punishment for his tardy Espada student. It seemed she was going to be late for this detention, too, which pleased Gin greatly. It meant more reasons for him to make another fine example of Espada failings.
He tapped a pencil quickly on a pile of homework, the end chewed slightly from all the hours he'd spent marking and reading and being generally quite bored. He enjoyed teaching psychology, he really did, but having to deal with all this bloody work really was such a drag.
Eventually he heard the sound of heels on the clean floor leading down to his classroom, spinning around in his high backed chair to stare at the doorway where Cuarta would enter, a malicious smile already in place.
She hated detention. This was the first time she'd ever gotten it, and it was hardly her fault, after all. She'd been late twice to his class, but some of the Privaron in psychology had been late four times, and he hadn't said a word. Mr. Ichimaru was simply too overeager to get an Espada member in trouble.
Luckily, they had no practise today for the club. Aizen would not have been pleased, and neither would she.
Aizen was, in fact, the reason she was currently running a bit late to her detention, having kept her after class to discuss a particular assignment she'd had a question on. She had a pass from him in hand, though, and when she entered the Mr. Ichimaru's room, she put her bag down on the desk. "I apologise for my lateness," she said, stretching out a hand to show him her pass, "but Mr. Aizen requested that I stay after class."
"Maa, you Espada always have your priorities all the wrong way up, dontcha?" he glanced sideways at the pass and shrugged, waving a hand at her. "Still, this don't excuse ya bein' late fer my classes. I might start ta think that ya don' like me, Miss Halibel~."
He gestured to a desk by nudging her bag toward it with one polished shoe, watching it slide a little way before stopping, puffing up some dust.
"I want ya ta write me a 1000 word essay on what psychological illnesses can be related ta tardiness, mmkay? If ya don' finish it in one hour ya can come back an' have some more fun with me tomorrow, Miss Halibel."
She inwardly twitched. Why did he insist on calling her by her first name? Wasn't it obvious that she didn't like hearing it, least of all from him?
"I'm sorry that I've given you that impression, Mr. Ichimaru," she said stiffly, not truly sorry at all. She didn't like him; he was creepier even than Noitora, and that was a significant feat.
She blinked, staring at him for a moment. "A ... 1000 word essay," she said finally, looking at him in disbelief. "Not to be disrespectful, Mr. Ichimaru, but ... are there actually mental illnesses revolving around that topic?"
Gin merely grinned and lent forward on his elbows, cracking his knuckles as he was want to do when dealing with singular students. "The textbooks are on the shelf, Halibel. I'm sure ya can find somethin' in them."
He opened his eyes a little more to reveal the piercing blue orbs beneath, staring at her like a cobra drawn to its prey. "Besides you Espada are good at bullshittin', ain't ya?"
She doubted very much that there was indeed a disorder that included tardiness as a symptom, but she would do her best to find one.
Her eyes narrowed. "I do my work well, Mr. Ichimaru. I don't know which Espada you might be referring to, but I'm the kind of person who takes pride in her work. Please keep that in mind."
Gin stood and walked over to her desk, gripping the edge of it with a hateful glint in his eyes, now opened more fully so he could stare down at her properly. "You watch the way ya speak ta me, girl. Your Aizen isn't here now ta keep an eye on things. I can get a little outta hand when I get mad."
He reached out and grabbed her jaw, bony fingers digging into her dark skin hidden by the high-necked shirt she wore. Yes, she was attractive. Probably the slut of the Espada, if Gin had anything to say about it. Her low cut skirt and tight blouse more than made up for the scandalous and no doubt full-lipped mouth she hid from those horny boys. Gin saw that he would have a challenge ahead of him if he were to break her. But, that was all part of the fun as far as he was concerned.
He let go of her, pushing her face away from him roughly before going back to his desk, throwing a heavy textbook in her direction.
It was the first time Cuarta had seen the psychology teacher's eyes open. They were honed in a glare of ultimate dislike on her face, and Cuarta suppressed a shiver of faint fear.
If there was one person in the entire school who was so awful that even Cuarta was a bit afraid of him, it was Mr. Ichimaru.
She opened her mouth to say something, but fingers suddenly grabbed her face, digging into her skin painfully. She let out a gasp, eyes widening. Teachers were ... not supposed to do that. Not at all -- it was against the rules to manhandle students, wasn't it?
Her face was pushed to the side with some force, making her wince from the roughness. She managed to catch the textbook, though, and sat down at the desk, saying nothing, though her hands were shaking in anger and indignation.
Gin smirked triumphantly and tented his hands, resting his chin on top of them as he studied her. Oh yes, she was a tough cookie and she knew it, and from the way her fists shook at her side Gin guessed she wanted to prove it to him, too.
But he had power. She wouldn't dare speak against him, because a teacher always had favour with those higher-ups. Tattle-telling would result in her not only losing place in the Espada, but Las Noches High in its entirety. Gin knew it, and she knew it, which was why she sat down so obediently.
"Good~ It seems you Espada aren't as stupid as I thought. Work fast now, little Ha-li-bel, unless you want to have some quality time wit' me tomorrow, ne~?"
He pronounced each syllable of her name with perfect clarity, delighting with childish glee the way she glowered at him in response.
Cuarta's mouth tightened at the use of her full first name. "Not to be rude, Mr. Ichimaru, but it would be nice if you could call me Cuarta, the way everyone else does."
It was a long shot -- she doubted very much that he'd listen, but it was worth a try. She didn't want the world knowing her first name, after all.
She flipped to the index, with no idea where to start. There was nothing including 'lateness' or 'tardiness', so she sighed, choosing to work from the front to the back of the book.
Gin scoffed and didn't even bother to raise his eyes, taking a long drink of coffee from the mug on the edge of his desk. He started tapping the pencil again, carrying on with his marking as he spoke.
"I'm jus' usin' the name ya mommy gave ta ya. Not nice of ya ta change it, ne, Halibel?"
He then looked up at her and noticed how she was dealing with finding the information, sighing in an exaggerated way. "Have ya learnt nothin', girl? Start off with personality types like A an' B and ya may find somethin' out about yerself. I don't wanna spend my whole week in detentions with ya so ya can finish this damn thing off."
She stiffened at the mention of her mother. "Don't talk about my mother," she said coldly, suddenly not particularly caring that she was talking to a teacher at the moment. Her mother was off limits for anyone to talk about unless she'd given them explicit permission to do so. She didn't like the thought that she might not be living up to her mother's expectations.
She glanced at him, then, sighing. "Yes, sir," she muttered, flipping to the index to find the things he'd just mentioned. He'd mentioned mental illnesses though, hadn't he? So it wasn't her fault that she'd been thinking more along those lines than anything else.
Gin smiled viciously as he heard the tone of her voice change, noting mentally that her mother was a soft spot. He didn't realise that anything particularly special had happened to Cuarta's female influence, but now guessed that the woman in question was dead or missing.
But for now he wouldn't pursue that point, instead turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "Don't make that pretty face o' yours ugly with hate, Halibel. I'm jus' teachin' ya, it's my job. Remember that personalities have an affect on our minds too, mm?"
Cuarta noticed the savage grin on her teacher's face, though wisely said nothing more. She had been lucky that he hadn't responded badly to her cold tone, and she was not going to push that luck any further.
"Yes, sir," she said obediently, settling down to read the textbook he'd given her.
"Mr. Ichimaru," she said suddenly, without lifting her head from the book, "Why is it that although many of the Privaron have been late far many more times than I have, I am the one with a detention and they get off scot-free?" It was border-lining insolence to ask, but Cuarta felt she had a right to do so.
"Because ya obviously don' listen ta me if ya don' know that personality types are related ta tardiness." Gin stated simply, knowing this answer was a blatant lie. He also knew, however, that Cuarta was aware of the real truth, but imagined she would get some sort of satisfaction from him admitting it to her. But who was Gin to tell God's honest truth, ever in his life?
"Now, shouldn't ya be concentratin' on that essay, or do ya like my company that much? Trust me, I can make it a lot more interestin' for the both of us if ya don't start doin' somethin' constructive soon."
That wasn't true. That wasn't true at all, and he knew it. Cuarta did her work to the best of her ability, all the time.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she stared up at Ichimaru with a slight expression of disbelief on her face. "Are you ... threatening me?" she inquired incredulously. That was ... completely improper, almost frightening even.
"Who said anythin' threatenin'?" he asked slyly, leaning forward so that, despite their large distance, he seemed to be invading her personal space. Gin himself didn't have one of these, he merely forced himself into others with uncomfortable ease.
"I jus' said things could get entertainin' if you'd prefer that ta work." he grinned at her, chin resting on his hand as the pencil swirled between slim digits, his opened eyes betraying the true meaning behind his words.
She really was far too much fun, and even though Gin didn't mean half of what he said (he wasn't so stupid as to take risks on his career), he could still appreciate the frightened looks that flittered across her eyes, so similar to his own and yet far, far more innocent.
Her heart stopped at his remarks for a moment, and then went on beating. Ichimaru was coming onto her.
It shouldn't have been all that surprising, considering what she had to deal with from people like Noitora, but she honestly hadn't expected it from a teacher. She did not appreciate it at all.
"No thank you," she said frostily, turning back to the book, effectively ignoring the teacher as she flipped through the pages, pencil tapping her desk.
Gin leant back and shrugged his shoulders, bringing the paper up to study it while the pencil rested between his teeth. "Suit yaself." he said simply, stretching his long, slim legs out in front of him to cross them at the ankle.
He eventually glanced at the clock after long, boring minutes of hearing her pen scratch on her notepad, and even more boring mindless bull a student had slapped on his desk as homework. Who was this person, anyway? They were rubbish and he would most certainly be forced to fail them.
"Ya can leave now. I'm sick of bein' choked by ya cloud of teenage angstin'. Gimme what ya got already an' I'll tell ya if I want ya back here."
She managed to get a good two paragraphs cranked out before Gin spoke. It had been difficult, attempting to research and write well in such a short span of time, and so she only had a bit of it done. She was proud of her work so far, though. The information was all correct, her writing perfect in its execution.
However, it was by no means 1000 words just yet.
So she handed her paper over to him along with the textbook wordlessly, turning back to her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said abruptly, picking up her bag and turning on her heel.
Tomorrow was going to be hell, and there was nothing Cuarta could do about it.
Characters: Cuarta (kendraxplague), Gin (supahukevaizard)
Rating: PG-ish? Some innuendo.
Timeline: November 17th, 2006
Summary: Cuarta has been late for her Psychology lessons, and Gin is not at all pleased. (Well...sort of)
Gin waited not so patiently behind his desk, staring out at the empty desks before him through slitted eyes. His grin was in place as always, seeming more dreamy now as he thought of a suitable punishment for his tardy Espada student. It seemed she was going to be late for this detention, too, which pleased Gin greatly. It meant more reasons for him to make another fine example of Espada failings.
He tapped a pencil quickly on a pile of homework, the end chewed slightly from all the hours he'd spent marking and reading and being generally quite bored. He enjoyed teaching psychology, he really did, but having to deal with all this bloody work really was such a drag.
Eventually he heard the sound of heels on the clean floor leading down to his classroom, spinning around in his high backed chair to stare at the doorway where Cuarta would enter, a malicious smile already in place.
She hated detention. This was the first time she'd ever gotten it, and it was hardly her fault, after all. She'd been late twice to his class, but some of the Privaron in psychology had been late four times, and he hadn't said a word. Mr. Ichimaru was simply too overeager to get an Espada member in trouble.
Luckily, they had no practise today for the club. Aizen would not have been pleased, and neither would she.
Aizen was, in fact, the reason she was currently running a bit late to her detention, having kept her after class to discuss a particular assignment she'd had a question on. She had a pass from him in hand, though, and when she entered the Mr. Ichimaru's room, she put her bag down on the desk. "I apologise for my lateness," she said, stretching out a hand to show him her pass, "but Mr. Aizen requested that I stay after class."
"Maa, you Espada always have your priorities all the wrong way up, dontcha?" he glanced sideways at the pass and shrugged, waving a hand at her. "Still, this don't excuse ya bein' late fer my classes. I might start ta think that ya don' like me, Miss Halibel~."
He gestured to a desk by nudging her bag toward it with one polished shoe, watching it slide a little way before stopping, puffing up some dust.
"I want ya ta write me a 1000 word essay on what psychological illnesses can be related ta tardiness, mmkay? If ya don' finish it in one hour ya can come back an' have some more fun with me tomorrow, Miss Halibel."
She inwardly twitched. Why did he insist on calling her by her first name? Wasn't it obvious that she didn't like hearing it, least of all from him?
"I'm sorry that I've given you that impression, Mr. Ichimaru," she said stiffly, not truly sorry at all. She didn't like him; he was creepier even than Noitora, and that was a significant feat.
She blinked, staring at him for a moment. "A ... 1000 word essay," she said finally, looking at him in disbelief. "Not to be disrespectful, Mr. Ichimaru, but ... are there actually mental illnesses revolving around that topic?"
Gin merely grinned and lent forward on his elbows, cracking his knuckles as he was want to do when dealing with singular students. "The textbooks are on the shelf, Halibel. I'm sure ya can find somethin' in them."
He opened his eyes a little more to reveal the piercing blue orbs beneath, staring at her like a cobra drawn to its prey. "Besides you Espada are good at bullshittin', ain't ya?"
She doubted very much that there was indeed a disorder that included tardiness as a symptom, but she would do her best to find one.
Her eyes narrowed. "I do my work well, Mr. Ichimaru. I don't know which Espada you might be referring to, but I'm the kind of person who takes pride in her work. Please keep that in mind."
Gin stood and walked over to her desk, gripping the edge of it with a hateful glint in his eyes, now opened more fully so he could stare down at her properly. "You watch the way ya speak ta me, girl. Your Aizen isn't here now ta keep an eye on things. I can get a little outta hand when I get mad."
He reached out and grabbed her jaw, bony fingers digging into her dark skin hidden by the high-necked shirt she wore. Yes, she was attractive. Probably the slut of the Espada, if Gin had anything to say about it. Her low cut skirt and tight blouse more than made up for the scandalous and no doubt full-lipped mouth she hid from those horny boys. Gin saw that he would have a challenge ahead of him if he were to break her. But, that was all part of the fun as far as he was concerned.
He let go of her, pushing her face away from him roughly before going back to his desk, throwing a heavy textbook in her direction.
It was the first time Cuarta had seen the psychology teacher's eyes open. They were honed in a glare of ultimate dislike on her face, and Cuarta suppressed a shiver of faint fear.
If there was one person in the entire school who was so awful that even Cuarta was a bit afraid of him, it was Mr. Ichimaru.
She opened her mouth to say something, but fingers suddenly grabbed her face, digging into her skin painfully. She let out a gasp, eyes widening. Teachers were ... not supposed to do that. Not at all -- it was against the rules to manhandle students, wasn't it?
Her face was pushed to the side with some force, making her wince from the roughness. She managed to catch the textbook, though, and sat down at the desk, saying nothing, though her hands were shaking in anger and indignation.
Gin smirked triumphantly and tented his hands, resting his chin on top of them as he studied her. Oh yes, she was a tough cookie and she knew it, and from the way her fists shook at her side Gin guessed she wanted to prove it to him, too.
But he had power. She wouldn't dare speak against him, because a teacher always had favour with those higher-ups. Tattle-telling would result in her not only losing place in the Espada, but Las Noches High in its entirety. Gin knew it, and she knew it, which was why she sat down so obediently.
"Good~ It seems you Espada aren't as stupid as I thought. Work fast now, little Ha-li-bel, unless you want to have some quality time wit' me tomorrow, ne~?"
He pronounced each syllable of her name with perfect clarity, delighting with childish glee the way she glowered at him in response.
Cuarta's mouth tightened at the use of her full first name. "Not to be rude, Mr. Ichimaru, but it would be nice if you could call me Cuarta, the way everyone else does."
It was a long shot -- she doubted very much that he'd listen, but it was worth a try. She didn't want the world knowing her first name, after all.
She flipped to the index, with no idea where to start. There was nothing including 'lateness' or 'tardiness', so she sighed, choosing to work from the front to the back of the book.
Gin scoffed and didn't even bother to raise his eyes, taking a long drink of coffee from the mug on the edge of his desk. He started tapping the pencil again, carrying on with his marking as he spoke.
"I'm jus' usin' the name ya mommy gave ta ya. Not nice of ya ta change it, ne, Halibel?"
He then looked up at her and noticed how she was dealing with finding the information, sighing in an exaggerated way. "Have ya learnt nothin', girl? Start off with personality types like A an' B and ya may find somethin' out about yerself. I don't wanna spend my whole week in detentions with ya so ya can finish this damn thing off."
She stiffened at the mention of her mother. "Don't talk about my mother," she said coldly, suddenly not particularly caring that she was talking to a teacher at the moment. Her mother was off limits for anyone to talk about unless she'd given them explicit permission to do so. She didn't like the thought that she might not be living up to her mother's expectations.
She glanced at him, then, sighing. "Yes, sir," she muttered, flipping to the index to find the things he'd just mentioned. He'd mentioned mental illnesses though, hadn't he? So it wasn't her fault that she'd been thinking more along those lines than anything else.
Gin smiled viciously as he heard the tone of her voice change, noting mentally that her mother was a soft spot. He didn't realise that anything particularly special had happened to Cuarta's female influence, but now guessed that the woman in question was dead or missing.
But for now he wouldn't pursue that point, instead turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "Don't make that pretty face o' yours ugly with hate, Halibel. I'm jus' teachin' ya, it's my job. Remember that personalities have an affect on our minds too, mm?"
Cuarta noticed the savage grin on her teacher's face, though wisely said nothing more. She had been lucky that he hadn't responded badly to her cold tone, and she was not going to push that luck any further.
"Yes, sir," she said obediently, settling down to read the textbook he'd given her.
"Mr. Ichimaru," she said suddenly, without lifting her head from the book, "Why is it that although many of the Privaron have been late far many more times than I have, I am the one with a detention and they get off scot-free?" It was border-lining insolence to ask, but Cuarta felt she had a right to do so.
"Because ya obviously don' listen ta me if ya don' know that personality types are related ta tardiness." Gin stated simply, knowing this answer was a blatant lie. He also knew, however, that Cuarta was aware of the real truth, but imagined she would get some sort of satisfaction from him admitting it to her. But who was Gin to tell God's honest truth, ever in his life?
"Now, shouldn't ya be concentratin' on that essay, or do ya like my company that much? Trust me, I can make it a lot more interestin' for the both of us if ya don't start doin' somethin' constructive soon."
That wasn't true. That wasn't true at all, and he knew it. Cuarta did her work to the best of her ability, all the time.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she stared up at Ichimaru with a slight expression of disbelief on her face. "Are you ... threatening me?" she inquired incredulously. That was ... completely improper, almost frightening even.
"Who said anythin' threatenin'?" he asked slyly, leaning forward so that, despite their large distance, he seemed to be invading her personal space. Gin himself didn't have one of these, he merely forced himself into others with uncomfortable ease.
"I jus' said things could get entertainin' if you'd prefer that ta work." he grinned at her, chin resting on his hand as the pencil swirled between slim digits, his opened eyes betraying the true meaning behind his words.
She really was far too much fun, and even though Gin didn't mean half of what he said (he wasn't so stupid as to take risks on his career), he could still appreciate the frightened looks that flittered across her eyes, so similar to his own and yet far, far more innocent.
Her heart stopped at his remarks for a moment, and then went on beating. Ichimaru was coming onto her.
It shouldn't have been all that surprising, considering what she had to deal with from people like Noitora, but she honestly hadn't expected it from a teacher. She did not appreciate it at all.
"No thank you," she said frostily, turning back to the book, effectively ignoring the teacher as she flipped through the pages, pencil tapping her desk.
Gin leant back and shrugged his shoulders, bringing the paper up to study it while the pencil rested between his teeth. "Suit yaself." he said simply, stretching his long, slim legs out in front of him to cross them at the ankle.
He eventually glanced at the clock after long, boring minutes of hearing her pen scratch on her notepad, and even more boring mindless bull a student had slapped on his desk as homework. Who was this person, anyway? They were rubbish and he would most certainly be forced to fail them.
"Ya can leave now. I'm sick of bein' choked by ya cloud of teenage angstin'. Gimme what ya got already an' I'll tell ya if I want ya back here."
She managed to get a good two paragraphs cranked out before Gin spoke. It had been difficult, attempting to research and write well in such a short span of time, and so she only had a bit of it done. She was proud of her work so far, though. The information was all correct, her writing perfect in its execution.
However, it was by no means 1000 words just yet.
So she handed her paper over to him along with the textbook wordlessly, turning back to her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said abruptly, picking up her bag and turning on her heel.
Tomorrow was going to be hell, and there was nothing Cuarta could do about it.