Red Dragon Inn

Red Dragon Inn Home Red Dragon Inn - Dragon's Mark

Welcome, traveler!
( Member login. Not a member? Register here. )


Search    Memberlist    Usergroups    Forum Help   
Gallery    Shop    Jobs    Auctions    Pet Shop    Lottery   
Register    Log in 

Case in Pointe

 
This forum is locked: you cannot post, reply to, or edit topics.   This topic is locked: you cannot edit posts or make replies.   printer-friendly view    Red Dragon Inn - Dragon's Mark Forum Index -> The Catacombs -> RhyDin's Ballet Troupe
View previous topic :: View next topic  
Author Message
A. Dagger Sasc
Young Wyrm
Young Wyrm


Joined: 31 Dec 2011
Posts: 133
See this user's pet
Can Be Found: University of Penrith or The Upper Room patio bar
75.00 Silver Crowns

Items

PostPosted: Tue Nov 05, 2013 1:24 am    Post subject: Case in Pointe Reply with quote

Year one towards his first Master's and into his new lifestyle and it had already been an incredibly tough, soul-sapping venture. The workload was heavy and the time for fun very little – a part-time job to help pay for his tuition soaking up what little recreation time he would have had. When he wasn't working the counter at Pen Lanes bowling alley, he was hitting the books, and when he wasn't hitting the books, he was paying for it.

Spring term was over and he hadn't done well, but he did well enough—decent enough, at least, to not receive any phone calls from grade-concerned counselors. But he had done poorly enough to jeopardize some of his summer to play catch-up, and he loathed that. He wouldn't say it aloud, but he thought he was doing pretty well on his own despite not knowing how many things outside of Adenna worked, but he knew that would get his head bitten off expeditiously by his friends and family because he was held to a higher standard.

Of course there had to be those expectations of him. Aurast was lucky when he got to forget about them for any amount of time, but they always came back. Though he moved away from all that at home, and it helped, their wishes and hopes and beliefs in him had made the move with him. All in all, it had been the best decision to get out of Adenna. There were new people to meet, new scenery to see, and most importantly, he felt in control of his destiny again.

His performance in the Spring was mediocre and it showed, not unlike his road traveled to obtaining his Bachelor's in business marketing. He excelled when his effort was applied, and he didn't when it wasn't. He still had more than a few lazy bones to work out, and ironically enough, he often told himself he'd work on applying himself more eventually. All this wasn't to say that he wasn't brilliant. His instructors saw great potential in him, and either hadn't had enough time to get him to see it himself or didn't care to, those usually being the student teachers. Before long their time together was over, and all any instructor could really hope for was that they imparted some helpful knowledge onto their students. With Aurast, who always made sure to pass with just the bare minimum of requirements, his instructors often wondered how he'd do and what would become of him. Oh well, though, time to prepare for the Autumn term; and for Aurast, that meant his summer was over.

The Adennian awoke in jolting fashion on the morning of the first Tuesday in August. He wouldn't need any kind of caffeine injection or freezing shower to keep his eyes open this morning; his own shock that he'd overslept had prepared him to embark upon the day, and despite easing his mind by checking the time on his still-charging phone, he just couldn't take those extra five minutes. He had to get ready for his appointment.

The water ran in the bathroom and his toothbrush hung out of his mouth while he assessed his new clean and cut look. He'd been letting his hair grow out and was going to keep letting it grow out, or so he told his friends, but his current reflection showed those chances dashed. A shaved face and a nice haircut were how he showed he was ready to take things serious and sit in class with a bunch of other students taking things seriously.

“What time do you have to be uni?” Heather asked from the kitchen, raising her voice to carry to the bathroom accordingly. Seated at the breakfast nook already was Casey, dressed and about to be out the door as soon as she finished her cereal.

“Mmm!” Aurast responded, a mouth full of foamy toothpaste strongly handicapping his ability to carry a conversation.

“What?” Heather called out curiously, closing the refrigerator door after putting the milk back up.

“Mmm!!” Aurast replied a bit angrier but ultimately sighed and finished brushing so he could spit. “7:30!”

Casey heard those words mid-bite and widened her eyes, removing the spoon from her mouth to give a mildly aggravated shrug toward Heather. “Aurast, I'm going to need you to move your car so I can get out,” she called to him.

“Mmm?” he asked, sounding like the toothbrush was back in his mouth. A long exasperated sigh came from Casey next.

“I swear he is going to drive me crazy living here,” she whispered as she closed her eyes, trying to relax and seizing a handful of black hair over in the direction it had been styled and covering her forehead like she were ill, but Heather reached out and jabbed her playfully in the arm.

“He'll move it. He's just messing with you,” she reassured, letting a laugh slip out as she sat down with her own breakfast, fresh out of the no-longer-beeping microwave.

“How can you eat those?” Casey asked with a confused face more than a disgusted one, and reacting humorously to the too-hot ham and cheese croissant, Heather answered.

“Didn't we already have this conversation with jalapeno poppers?” Heather wasn't about to let her even get rolling on healthy foods and the like which she was in a bit of an obsessed state with right now. Heather knew how big of a hypocrite Casey could be and was being right now, so she shut her down before the calorie speech came. “And you loved them. So shush.”

All Casey could do was keep quiet and scoop another spoonful of her cereal.

Back in his bedroom, Aurast was walking back to his bed to retrieve his belt off the nightstand and read the message his phone was lighting up to alert him of. It was from Peter. It read: when do u wanna do scrims today?

He pulled a shirt down over his head and sat down on the side of his bed to work out a reply, massaging where his goatee used to be while he did so. He was running his agenda through his head today, making sure he'd correlate a time that was guaranteed open for him. He liked to commit at most two hours to playing scrimmages with Peter, and today their normal time was taken up with his appointment at the university. He texted back: maybe this evening.

Closing his phone, he looked back up from it and took a deep breath. His advisor was going to ask him so many questions this morning, and he had almost no answers for them.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
A. Dagger Sasc
Young Wyrm
Young Wyrm


Joined: 31 Dec 2011
Posts: 133
See this user's pet
Can Be Found: University of Penrith or The Upper Room patio bar
75.00 Silver Crowns

Items

PostPosted: Tue Nov 05, 2013 5:27 pm    Post subject: Registration Reply with quote

It all started in the winter of 2012 with the blanketing of snow throughout most places, and he had been spending his surplus time between drives and errands at a local cafe, chatting up all the interesting folk. One day, he met an alarmingly young man there who was an art history major, and he told him of all the exciting traveling he got to do designing exhibits for museums, and he correlated these fantastical descriptions with so many visuals he kept in an ever-expanding album in the passenger floorboard of his car.

The man traveled so frequently and saw such unforgettable locations and met so many unforgettable and diverse persons, he told Aurast, that there could be no other life for him. Needless to say, it greatly impacted him. In early 2013, he began schooling towards a similar career path.

He sat down in the office of Catherine Holl, his old guidance director at Barrowman College and now recently relocated to the career planning department in the furthermost offices of Penrith University's main campus. There was a nervous tension in the air and his previous relationship with her didn't really help make things any more comfortable between them when perhaps it should have. Then again, here he was pursuing a second degree and presumably making the first he'd obtained with her college seem disregarded. He half-expected her to bring it up during that paper-sorting she was doing or speak on the peculiarity of his current plan. Earth Art History? He could ask himself the same question and still not give a truly passable answer. He used the time waiting on her to reevaluate if the degree he was now going after was truly what he wanted, or better still, if it was worth devoting the next four years toward. Nevertheless, he went forward as if that was the case.

“Good to see you again, Mrs. Holl,” Aurast began, breaking the ice and interrupting the dreadful silence that was beginning to make his uncomfortableness show. He wasn't sure what was going through her head, be it simply routine processing or judgmental thoughts about him; but he spared his paranoia in favor of his more pleasing—albeit artificial—friendliness. “I see you were sold on the Penrith brochure, too.”

Catherine curled only the faintest of grins upon her lips, resisting the urge to go any further and turn their meet into a casual one. Catherine Holl didn't work that way. She was all about business, even if it meant sacrificing her humanity to turn into a machine of the school system, and Aurast was beginning to remember that. She gave him one off-subject reply, however, figuring everyone she sat down to discuss their future plans with warranted the how-are-you-esque, empty intrigue.

“I was,” she said, holding the last word inappropriately long and pseudo-melodically as if to make up for the short reply she was giving. That was as friendly as she got. She moved right into the business of the matter. “Well, let me start off by saying congratulations on your admission to the University of Penrith's Earth Art History program. Paul Zuckerberg spoke quite highly of you in his letter of recommendation. Now... you're going to need a minimum of nine credit hours this semester to maintain a full-time schedule which I assume you want to do.”

“Definitely,” Aurast replied, not much more prepared for this meeting after that affirmation. He leaned his side favorably to the direction of the chair arm he gave himself to while she brought his name up on the computer.

“You're going to need one of your two mandatory foreign languages, EAH 100, and two additional courses for a grand total of four classes this fall. You can choose two electives from this list,” Catherine said, never making eye-contact even when she rolled back to her shelf and pulled a flimsily-bound booklet of courses from her stack of quick-reference manuals to hand to Aurast. Once in his hands, she navigated its pages for him, overshooting her desired page by one and turning back to it to identify a section with a painted nail.

“These are all one credit courses and these are two. You can pick both two-credit courses or one of each but you cannot pick two single credit courses as you'll fall under the minimum requirement. Do you understand? So keep that in mind, take your time, and just let me know when you're ready.” She returned to her computer, either continuing work on his file or someone else's and leaving him to his helplessness.

He combed his hair over before taking a breath quiet enough so as not to expose any of his unsureness. Some help or advice would have surely been useful, but whatever she would have suggested in all her pre-programmed advice and disinterest, he would have seen as part of her design that he would be slaving away at and paying for, not his, and he wanted to show his interests with this degree instead of his Bachelor's where he simply wanted to show he was capable of obtaining it.

Aurast surveyed the available courses but getting into a mindset to imagine himself taking any of them was just a little more than difficult. He massaged his stretched throat nervously, unsure of a decision to make. While Catherine caught up on some important work that had her typing up a storm for a few minutes, he soon laid the booklet on her desk with a finger pointing at the course he'd chosen.

“Let's do these, actually,” he said sounding softly but surely inspired.

Catherine Holl lifted the book to see the course he indicated, cutting off his pointing aid having already seen which one he referred to by that point. With her long and thin librarian glasses seated low on the bridge of her nose, she puckered her lips as if about to whistle before assessing Aurast's seriousness. “Okay, German it is. And your two electives?” She began entering his first submission on the computer while Aurast retrieved the booklet back.

“This one really appeals to me: International Support and Development. 'Three trips over sixteen weeks to troubled regions where you will provide aid and supplies... class time will consist of relief project management and working in cross-cultural environments as well as first aid and medical training to'—this is exactly what I want to do. I mean, I don't want a career in it, but helping out people for a semester... that's up my alley.” He leaned back in the chair, again returning the booklet to her and nodding, waiting to hear next what she had to say in response, hopefully something impressed.

“You still have one more elective,” she brought to his attention, and his punishment was to embarrassingly retrieve the booklet yet again, stretching across to her desk in exhibition of his ignorance and reviewing the list of courses once more.

He was right under the mark of being a full-time student at 8 credit hours with his current selections, and a single credit more would accomplish what he needed so he thought of picking an easy class. Some of the ones he saw he knew he could pretty much sleep through and ace, even some of the ones towards his Master's like the film art history class. But he wasn't so sure easy was the road to take. Out of his comfort zone, maybe, probably, but not a stupidly easy class like watching movies all period.

He roamed outside of the section that synergized with the Earth Art History program and began browsing the single credit options in the spirit of a true elective. There were many prerequisite classes that went up two and even three credits more, but he would have to pick their introductory courses to become eligible for them next year, and of course he should want to still be able to tolerate the subject matter an additional semester as well. He took this into careful consideration. The first one that truly captured his attention very quickly stood out from the others because it was the one he could least-likely see himself taking: Ballet Technique. Almost immediately he brought it to Catherine's attention.

“How about this one? Ballet.”

“How about it?” she counter-questioned, unfriendly and to the point as ever but also reminding Aurast that it had to be his choice. He was reluctant to explore the option after her lack of input, being the terrible adviser she was being, so he mulled over it thoughtfully and honestly. Then, fortunately, amazingly, Mrs. Holl spoke up with some input on the matter.

“Dance has a popular department here at Penrith. It's usually a packed class and it fills up quickly, but since you're signing up so early you're beating everyone to registration. If you take this class your instructor will be Miss Lebeezy: a renowned Amarian ballerina and troupe leader from the 2009 run of A Missus for Marty. My daughter had her last year. They will meet at the Maureen O'Mackey Dance Theatre this fall for classes. It'll be different for you if you've never done it before. It takes some very hard work and practice, but the experience you will gain you cannot put a price on.”

Aurast's eyes lit up at her words, not only getting somewhat personal but saying more to him than she ever said to him in his two years at J.B.C.C. He was taken aback; he still couldn't believe she had said something that wasn't at least vaguely off-putting. So in light of her melting away some of her ice, he mustered a small grin that wasn't very hard to make at all. She had convinced him.

“Yeah. Okay. Let's do it.”

Catherine nodded her head continuously as she typed in the course and saved her progress. “That will be thirty-five dollars for parking for the rest of the year, please.” She turned to her paperwork and stapled some of them together while he dug out the bills from his wallet. He handed her his payment and in return she gave him a roped University of Penrith card for a rear-view mirror.
“I think that will do it,” she said happily, “Here's your parking pass and your schedule should be in the mail at the end of the day.”

“Thanks Mrs. Holl. I'm sure I'll see you around campus,” he said before smiling and waving his farewell with the parking pass. He then got up from her chair and departed her office.

Once outside he started walking to his car passing a parked woman talking on her phone. It was highly likely she was Catherine Holl's next appointment, and that got him thinking about the abundance of new students that would be registering for the fall semester this year. Catherine said the dance class filled up quickly and undoubtedly so would the other classes. She also said he should be in the clear, but that didn't stop him from worrying that something might go wrong. Things had for him in the past. But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment besides the worrying, so he tried to refocus his thoughts.

Before he could slip his fingers under the door handle of his XR6, he noticed the car parked in-front of him: a beautiful white sportscar that glinted in the sunlight and drastically outshone his compact car. Aurast wasn't one to envy others; he believed the grass was always greener on the other side. But he saw the car in-front of him as a symbol of success and, to a lesser degree, proof of a good education. If other people—if his brother—could see him that way, as a successful man, then that wouldn't be that bad, he simply thought.

Opening his door and ducking to the side to slide into the driver's seat, he freed up his hands by ringing the parking pass around his mirror, eerily marking his car—and him by association—with the school's flag for what would be his first year at the University of Penrith. He pouted his lips contemplatively, cranked the ignition, and drove off radioless, pondering what may come of the fall. No matter what happened, he thought, at least it was going to be interesting.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Display posts from previous:   
This forum is locked: you cannot post, reply to, or edit topics.   This topic is locked: you cannot edit posts or make replies.   printer-friendly view    Red Dragon Inn - Dragon's Mark Forum Index -> The Catacombs -> RhyDin's Ballet Troupe All times are GMT - 4 Hours
Page 1 of 1

 
Jump to:  
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum


Powered by phpBB © 2001, 2005 phpBB Group

Dragon's Mark Producer - Rob Portinga
Original site design © 2005 by Nomad  •  Forum design © 2005 Isaura Simon