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Post by cedric westley critchley on Aug 24, 2015 14:38:13 GMT -5
  Cedric looked the part of a history professor despite his youth, but once people got to know him they were surprised he could hold the attention of a seminar. To his credit, he only taught those who were already interested in history. It wasn't like previous years of education where kids were forced to endure subjects for a few years whether they wanted to be there or not. The students in his classes had made a conscious decision to enrol with him and they were often aware of the rumours about him. Cedric was, too, unfortunately. He tried to keep a stiff upper lip and not let it get to him, but he had thought that the teasing and the jokes might have faded away once he had a PhD and a respectable teaching position. Apparently he thought wrong. He knew people found him boring, and he knew that he was forgetful at times, but Cedric thought he was good at his job. Damn it, he was good at his job. He had a high pass rate in his classes and it wasn't because he was soft. Well, he was, and getting an extension from him didn't require pleading or bribery, but he thought he was fair and just with his students. Still, there were days when he wondered if he had done the right thing taking a post at NYU.
It was days like this when his office hours were spent just pacing his office, reading over things her had borrowed from the library, old books that appeared to have been left to gather dust until he showed up. No one had been to his hours for the past two weeks, just like they hadn’t asked questions at the end of his lectures either. Cedric missed the enthusiasm and wondered if he was doing something wrong. He thought there should be at least one person coming along, knocking on his open door and asking him about something. He taught seven lectures and six seminars a week, but not a single person was seemingly curious to know more or press him further about one of the subjects. It made no sense to him. Those students had chosen to learn what he had to offer and he spent hours making his lessons as interesting as possible, but they all seemed to stare back with blank faces and file out of the room quickly when the time was up. It made him doubt himself incredibly, but he enjoyed talking about history so much that he didn’t think there was anything else he could do.
His door was open just a smidgen and Cedric was walking the length of his office as he read one of the musty old books he had collected from the depths of the library stacks. He was pretty certain the librarians weren’t overly fond of him just helping himself, but it was so much quicker to just look for it himself than to disturb one of them from their work. He read over it, pushing his glasses up his nose as he walked, cradling the book in the palm of a widespread hand. Cedric re-fastened the top button of his blazer and smoothed down his tie absentmindedly. He doubted anyone would pop by again during the two hours he advertised for his students, but he wasn’t going to sit at his desk rearranging his drawers again. He could get some reading done and consider it research towards his next research paper; when he found the time to put one together.
• • •
TAGGED! Kensington Olivia Summers
WORDS! 592!
OUTFIT! Gloomy Gent!
LYRICS! Holding Onto You - - - Twenty One Pilots
NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Kensington Olivia Summers on Sept 5, 2015 9:05:16 GMT -5
  Kensi was pretty sure her parents’ jaws dropped when she’d decided on a her major. She hadn’t actually been all that fond of history when she’d had to take it before. Her mother had hoped she would follow in her footsteps and become a counselor. She didn’t have to become a grief counselor like Annabelle, she could have become a dedicated children’s counselor or something else. Thankfully her father had never expected his little girl to become a preacher like him. Really, Simon Summers was just happy his little girl was going to finish her education. He’d taught her all that he could, showed her right from wrong and made sure she treated everyone equally and fairly, that race, sexuality or class meant nothing when someone was in need. Kensington might not have put much faith into her father’s spiritual beliefs but she did have faith in him. She might not have listened to his sermons every Sunday like the good god fearing girl southern girl that she was supposed to be but she had listened intently to his life lessons at home.
She’d been worried to tell her parents about her plan because it took her out of the state but they’d agreed to it anyway, understanding she needed to spread her wings away from home; that exploring Europe just hadn’t been enough. Kensi couldn’t have been more thankful. So far she’d met so many cool people, learned so much more than she’d already known and she was genuinely excited for the next three years. And though she would never admit to it, she was kind of thankful she’d been a rowdy Georgian teen and a preacher’s daughter. All that practice in faking sobriety was leading up to the big leagues. Though she would admit she’d actually gone to class more times sober in the last few months than she had Sunday mass since she’d been sixteen and had gotten her first real taste of down home, backwoods bonfire on the beach kind of fun.
There was one class though, that she’d never even thought to attend drunk or to miss at all. She might have sat somewhere in the middle but she was enthralled through the speeches, the lectures. He was cute, a shocking statement when she’d said as much to the three friends she had in the class, apparently but after the following class, where they’d actually paid attention, they’d agreed but added that it was a nerdy chic sort of cute. Kensi had shaken her head at them before deciding if they didn’t get down to the coursework in front of them, they would never get it done. Kensi didn’t like missing his class but the week before she’d caught some bug going around and had been too weak to even get out of bed for a couple days. She’d gotten friends in her classes to make copies of their notes for her but it wasn’t enough for Kensi so now that she was feeling like her old self again, she was going to those professor’s and asking what she’d missed.
She rarely missed classes so she hadn’t felt like it would be a huge deal to have missed one or two in some cases. If she could have made it, she would have and doomed the rest of the class to her illness, all whilst cackling like a villain from a Disney movie. She knew when office hours were, though until now she’d never felt like she needed them. The lessons were taught well and Kensi always felt like every question she might have had was answered throughout the class. The door was open so Kensi knocked on the door, watching as it opened with the light force. “Dr Critchley, could I steal a moment of your time?” She asked, knowing her smile had just a hint of the flirty undertone she’d used.
Tag || cedric westley critchley
Words || 713
Clothes || Will Be Arriving Shortly
Music || Gonna Wanna Tonight --Chase Rice
Notes || <3 |
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Post by cedric westley critchley on Sept 7, 2015 17:12:08 GMT -5
Cedric’s whole life was about being the best he could be. He still strived for that now. That was why he worried when people didn’t ask him questions in class, or never showed up to his office hours. To Cedric, who always had more questions and wanted to learn even more than he already knew, there was never enough time during class to fit everything in that he wanted to. It had taken him a long time to keep to the schedule he planned out for each one. In the beginning he had gone off on a tangent each time and the students were leaving before he had even gotten near to what should have been the closing comments. He was better at it now, which was why he expected there to be a barrage of questions, but it seemed he was lucky if there was even one.
He sometimes thought that maybe it was a different generation, but then he reminded himself that he wasn’t all that older than most of his students. Not all that much could have changed in a few short years. His parents had both been academics, they had encouraged him to be one, too. Cedric had never been a popular kid; he had been an outcast. He still felt like one now when he was a grown man and holding down a career he had always dreamt of. Maybe it was being still in his twenties and teaching things that were often centuries older than he was that didn’t help. He also had very little in common with the rest of the staff at the university who frequently spoke of their weekend antics or their families. Cedric didn’t go out to party, and spent his weekends prowling markets and thrift stores looking for special trinkets that would catch his eye. He had yet to meet another who shared that particular hobby of his. And everyone he called family was back in England, and he only really had his parents.
Cedric was caught up with his reading, walking across the small space over and over, that he didn’t even notice anyone approaching the door. The knocked snapped him out of his thoughts suddenly and it took him a short moment to remember where he was and what he was actually doing. It happened rather often when Cedric started reading and thinking about his research. He blinked at the student who he faintly recognised from his classes, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember her name. He was terrible with them, as a matter of fact. “Of course! Come in, come in. Have a seat.” Cedric missed any hint of flirtation purely because he had always been oblivious to that sort of thing. He was clueless when it came to women, rarely even thought about dating, and was thrown when people asked him about the subject. Cedric closed the door tightly once she was in the room and moved back to his desk, putting his book down with a silver-plated bookmark his father had given him in place to save his spot. “What can I help you with today?”
• • •
TAGGED! Kensington Olivia Summers
WORDS! 529!
OUTFIT! Gloomy Gent!
LYRICS! Holding Onto You - - - Twenty One Pilots
NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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