Butting Heads (Sam)

[Azazel Mustisson]

Azazel came in 15 minutes early, his first class of the day. He liked to prepare for his classes with plenty of time to spare, so he could have enough time to review his lectures from the day before and organize his paperwork for each class. He excelled in his classes for several reasons- but the most important was so private, he told no one, not even Aurelian when he had his first interview with the man. Of course, his mother enrolled him with special requests to never see his family at the school, aside from herself. And during his four years here, the only times he'd seen here were Christmas eve, and his birthday. Aside from that, he heard nothing from her. 

He was top of his class, for 4 years in a row. He had several awards in he arts, botany, and music. He was a prospect for several scholarships, all from prestigious colleges. Which is why he worked so hard in school- to escape to the higher reaches where his family could never trap him. He pulled his homework out from the night before, neatly written, with all the work on another sheet of paper, just as neat and numbered to identify each equation with its proper set of work. He took it seriously, and once he was sure he had everything ready for the class, he pulled a book on the subject out and began to read, taking meticulous notes in a journal, making sure everything was accurate with what was taught in the class, and noting questions of what didn't quite make sense. He pushed some hair out of his face, his green eyes focused on the work before him.  

[Samael Mishra III]

Samael was rather hungover from his night of drinking and watching horror movies from the night before, but he would be damned if that was going to keep him from going to his classes today. So instead of curling up under his blankets like his body demanded and just sleeping the day away, he trudged through the hallway and tightened the ponytail that was sloppily hanging from the back of his head. It hurt for a split second, but the throbbing subsided soon after and was replaced with a murky sensation that could only be described as "too-much-alcohol" syndrome.

It wasn't long before he made his way into the math class, not paying attention to anyone currently in the room, and carefully slid himself into his usual seat. A glance to the board reminded him that there was homework due today, and a small smile played on his thin lips. He had worked through every problem and double-checked himself thoroughly before the movie marathon and left it all in his binder. He rummaged through the bag only to find, to his dismay, that the only things he brought to class were a notebook, pencils, his book, and calculator. What...? Where did it go? He turned in his desk, setting the bag in his lap and actually looking through it this time and, sure enough, it seemed that he left that binder on his desk. Again.

"Damn," he breathed, rubbing the back of his head for a moment. Well, at least there seemed to be a few minutes before class actually started.

He set the bag back on the floor and took out the notebook and a pencil, then flipped to a fresh page and hovered the sharpened point over the paper. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and gathering himself, before exhaling and flicking his eyes open again to stare straight ahead, unblinking, black and red eyes fixed on a nonexistent point. He called forth the memories from doing his homework, and within seconds, the pencil began to dance across the paper, writing down the questions, their answers, and all of his work. It only took two minutes before all of the pages were filled out and Samael glanced down, breaking the trance to look over his work. Everything seemed to be in place-- oh, wait. He erased and fixed a quick misspelling, then continued the review. That seemed to be the only flub.

Satisfied, he placed the work back on the desktop and leaned back in his chair, letting it lift carelessly onto its back legs and balancing himself expertly as he waited for the class bell to ring.

[Azazel Mustisson]

This guy. This fucking guy had the gall to show up hungover so many times to class, unprepared, and hardly ever had the original copies of his homework for any of the classes he was in. Which was miraculous that the guy was even in many of the same classes as Azazel since they were mostly AP and honors classes. And it pissed him off how nonchalant about it he was. Like he expected to fly through the school half fucked up, and supposedly doing well. And even now he was writing everything out minutes before the class even began. How pathetic.

Azazel was Always seated right next to him, and watched with disgust how he had a tendency to doze off in lecture. Today he wasn't going to stand it any longer. Knowing how a hangover worked, he decided to grab the heaviest books in his bag, stacked on each other, and when the other kid was looking away, he dropped them on the floor, where they landed with a loud THUMP! Causing a few of the others in the class to jump and look around. Azazel had to fight back a smirk as he spoke, before moving to pick up his books.

"My bad. I must be tired still." He said, acting as nonchalantly as the hungover ass next to him. And of all the ways to show up for class- this guy looked like they dragged him out of some street gutter.

[Samael Mishra III]

It wasn't like Samael dozed off on purpose during classes. In fact, he really enjoyed listening to the lectures first-hand. Yet here he was again, eyes feeling rather heavy. Maybe if he just closed them for a moment and let his head rest, maybe this pounding headache would go away... Just for a few moments.

It didn't even last a few moments, for almost as soon as he closed his dark eyes, there was a loud THUD that made him jolt up in his seat, eyes wide before quickly scrunching closed and hands moving to grip his head, putting pressure on his temples in an attempt to releve his headache. With a frown and pained eyes, he turned to look at the perfect, straight-A student beside him. Oh, so that's where he sat in class. He didn't normally pay attention to him... and he wondered why he always picked up on his scent so close. But that smirk and those words... that was definitely no accident.

He sighed and took his feet off the chair in front of him to balance himself as he leaned down and picked up Azazel's book, handing it to him. "Good morning to you, too. If you're always this tired, I'll bring you some coffee tomorrow morning."

[Azazel Mustisson]

He feigned innocent. "No need.I usually do just fine. You look like you need it more than I do, anyways." He said, being a snarky asshole about it. He accepted the book, and their eyes met- While he had a cute face, it was marred with so many piercings that he looked like a junkyard magnet, the kind used to pick up clunker cars to be melted down. His own green eyes shone with an implike expression.

During the time they had been arguing, the teacher strode in, as well as the rest of the class, and the bell rang.People sat in their seats, oblivious to the mild confrontation. The teacher asked for the homework to be passed forward, before continuing. "Today, we're going to do partnered assignments. So get with the person sitting next to you and turn to the assignments in Chapter 4 section 3."

Azazel stopped and stared a moment, not believing his luck. He glanced to the other side a moment in futility; nearly nobody sat near him, and he didn't realm have friends. Which meant his only option was to team up with Samael. He sighed, opening up his text to the page and began going over it, before glancing over to see what this guy was going to do.

[Samael Mishra III]

Samael cracked his tattooed knuckles and neck, then yawned and turned back to the front of the room as the bell rang. Azazel was right: he probably did need to drink more coffee. Hmm... either way, it was too late now, so he needed to concentrate during the lecture.

When asked to partner up with someone, the boy looked around the room only to notice that, again, he was pretty much alone... except for his newfound partner. He turned back to Azazel with wide, awake eyes. "I guess it's us then, mmn?" Without hesitation, he scooted his chair and desk closer to the other, then used his feet to pick up the chair from the desk in front of him and positioned it perfectly to prop up his legs again. He pulled out his own book and flipped it open to the proper page, leaning his head toward Azazel while scanning over the lesson they were about to go over. "This shouldn't be too difficult. No need to put a ton of effort into it today, it seems."

[Azazel Mustisson]

He wasn't expecting it and was taken aback, almost recoiling from the closeness. His only "friend" in the area was the gravedigger Ichabod, and even then the only time they got close to touching was when Ichabod saved him from freezing to death in the forest. He tried to focus on the work, just working out the equation in the sequence, though it was strange with the murmur of the others working out the equations. He went through the set and sat back, sighing.

"So ridiculously easy.... Why do we have to partner up? Its just a pattern..." He complained softly, leaning forward.... And feeling the radiant heat come off Samael. He was tempted for a moment to move closer..... Nope! He remembered his revulsion, and staved It off as best as he could.

[Samael Mishra III]

It didn't take long for them to both finish, although Samael took his time, spacing out for more than a few moments in his own dreamland. "Mmmn, you're right. But I suppose the others probably enjoy having someone to gossip with while they work... or have someone to explain everything to them." He turned to the other. "You don't seem to be the type to enjoy people bothering you constantly, though, especially for answers to such simple questions." He stretched his arms behind his head, letting out a low grunt as his back popped lightly. "But now I suppose there's nothing to do besides ride out the rest of the class... or until everyone else finishes."

He relaxed into his new position, crossing his arms behind his head, elbow dangerously close to the other's head. At least now he could hopefully sleep off some of this hangover... He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the pounding in his head slowly beginning to taper off. At least there was this to enjoy...

[Azazel Mustisson]

For being perfectly sober, Azazel was developing a headache from hearing Samael speaking so much.... And then he went on saying he was going to sleep just because he was done. Azazel rolled his eyes, and when the other pulled their arms back to attempt to sleep, he had to resist the urge to give him a lethal dose of venom just for moving too close to him. But, the last thing he needed was to be kicked out for murder, and he did enjoy the free lodgings here...

...So he took his pen, the old fashioned kind that you had to load with ink and had a sharp tip to write on vellum, and when the teacher was otherwise occupied with helping students, he pricked him above his elbow in the meaty part known as the "funny bone". He had to admit, he was getting sadistic glee from ailing the hungover lad.

[Samael Mishra III]

He was perfectly content in his place again, almost forgetting that Azazel was sitting beside him. His mind slowly started to drift as his body relaxed into place, the headache slowly subsiding for a moment. Then... what was that? He didn't so much as flinch at the light sting. What in the world landed on his arm? Slowly, he took in a deep breath and then turned to finally look at his elbow. A black mark? He glanced toward Azazel and saw the glee in the snake's eyes. Samael's own dark eyes blinked, bored. "Really, if you want to hurt me, you're going to have to do more than that." He pulled off his loose jacket, exposing the sleeves of tattoos that went down to and across his fingers on one hand.

[Azazel Mustisson]

He smirked at the other. "Is that an invitation?" He asked, true malice beginning to shine in his eyes. He wasn't at all stupid, and wouldn't do any actual harm to him while in a classroom. Not with instructors looking. There was no telling who would squeal and who was watching- there were too many people, and some were outright busybodies. And though the other had about 10 pounds on him, he had the advantage of being sober.