Cindy's Office | Office 2 | Saturday

[steel_not_glass]

Oh, Parents' Weekend. Cindy was at her desk--weapon within reaching distance just in case--coming up with some appropriate phrases to use in case the more normal families were confused about just what she was teaching any why. "Hands-on activities to assist in grasping the material," she muttered, scrawling that down. "Channeling teenage energy and

Comments

[warandfury]

'John Aaron' loomed in the doorway. It wasn't deliberate looming, that was just sort of. How he stood. "Good afternoon," he said in a tone that left whether or not the afternoon was good--and whether or not that was some kind of bizarre threat--up for debate. "I believe you teach my son."

[steel_not_glass]

Cindy glanced up--and up and up--at the man in her doorway, eyebrow rising as she did. Her hand twitched a bit towards one of the knives she kept hidden on her desk, a barely discernible movement that she stilled quickly enough. "You may be correct," she said, voice cool. If she was intimidated, she wasn't going to show it. "Your son would be?"

[warandfury]

He noticed the twitch toward a weapon. Good instincts on this one. That was something, at least. "Alexander," he said. "I am his father, John Aaron."

Or, you know, Ares, god of bloody war. Both were correct.

[steel_not_glass]

Yeah, Cindy hadn't been buying the 'I am a simple father' act even before he'd said Alexander's name. Alex had been fairly open with his background. "Ahh, Alex. He participates in our discussions. He was one of the few who chose glory in battle over a safe and happy homecoming."