<div class="floatleft">(http://i1288.photobucket.com/albums/b492/Pumpkinreed/Cool_Scientist_105589_900x700theAnimeGallerycom_zps59b496d4.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Sidney West<br/><strong>Team:</strong>Avalanche Faculty<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Chemistry Lab; Hallway outside of the Kitchen<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><hr/>Two hours had passed before Dr. West had bothered to look back at the clock hanging from the wall. He made a double take as he realized that he should have been nearly half way done with his first lesson. His goggles were pushed up as his mouth pulled down into a frown. A flick of the wrist popped open his scroll once it had been retrieved from his briefcase. Apparently, he had missed a notification from the Headmaster stating that his first batch of students wouldn’t arrive until 9:30.<br/><br/>Green-eyes slid around the empty classroom before landing back on his own workstation. A small flame licked the underside of a Laboratory flask while a bubbly liquid with an orange tint swirled inside its belly. He entered the temperature and his resulting observations over the gradual shift in its consistency into his scroll, then reached over to shut the burner off. A moment was spent tidying his supplies before he became suddenly aware of the room’s eerie silence.<br/><br/>That silence would soon be filled by the distracting idle chatter of young adults. Individuals who would ─ more than likely not ─  choose to write an entire dissertation on the art of attracting the opposite sex, rather than spend one millisecond discussing isotopes or radioactive decay.<br/><br/>His frown deepened considerably as he realized he hadn’t given much thought as to how he was going to go about introducing himself, much less what his first lecture would be on. He sat down behind his desk and pulled open the large cabinet that the Headmaster had said would contain the Academy approved textbooks. A bright-blue, hardcover book stared back at him. On its face was a large, yellow image of the periodic table of elements with every element’s marker left blank, except for uranium. The title read:<br/><br/><em>Chemistry and U!</em><br/><br/>Dr. West’s hand rose without permission to clutch his face in his palm. “For the love of-,” he said, in a muffled voice. Nine copies were hoisted out of the drawer before being dropped on his desk with a loud thud. He flipped open one of the books and began to turn through its pages. A small twist of his mouth echoed the puff of air that shot out of his nostrils as he snapped the book shut. That eerie silence began to fill the room again as he sat in contemplation.<br/><br/>And then, the proverbial lightbulb shone bright above his head.<br/><br/>The Chemist pushed himself up out of his chair before moving over to the glass cupboards. His eyes darted between each of their valuable contents until finally stopping on a large chunk of metallic looking rock with silver colored veins etched across its surface. The lock was quickly removed using the keys the Headmaster had given him before he reached in to pull his savior from its perch. Enthusiasm now flitted across his features as he moved to place the material on his workstation. A chisel and hammer were produced from his drawer and he set to carving out nine pieces before weighing them all for continuity.<br/><br/>By the time Dr. West had finished prepping for his next class, four of the student workstations each had a beaker of Fire, Ice and Electric Dust, two text books and a chunk of his precious rock. He stood at the front of the class with his arms folded across his chest and wide smile on on his face. “If this doesn’t get them: nothing will.” A loud growl voiced itself from his stomach in response.<br/><br/>He had forgotten to eat. A quick inspection of the clock said he had about thirty minutes to rectify that problem. The last thing he needed to do was emotionally scar some student on his first day because he was in a foul mood.<br/><br/><em>Is that the sort of professor you’re going to be?</em><br/><br/>His head tilted at the sound of his own inner monologue. Curiosity filled his narrowed gaze as he searched the ceiling. “I don’t know,” he admitted.<br/><br/>Dr. West traversed the hall to the kitchen with his attention on his scroll. The passageways still seemed relatively empty until he rounded a corner and bumped into a young man. “Oh, I’m sorry - uh, sir,” the student offered in a hasty apology, before vanishing into an adjacent door. Sidney hadn't had the time to respond, but the sight before him quickly scattered that thought to the wind.<br/><br/>He had failed to note that classes had just been let out. It was an interesting experience to see so many young people milling about. While some were not much younger than himself, others seemed as if a lifetime spanned their gap. Although, that gap could realistically be no greater than ten years. He suddenly remembered being that age. Did he look old to them? It was difficult to remember how old his own professors had been. But, they<em>seemed</em>old. At least he didn’t<em>feel</em>old.<br/><br/>Dr. West continued on as his eyes occasionally popped up from his scroll to ensure that he didn’t collide with anyone else. On more than one occasion he had to keep himself from gawking at the embodiment of so many blatant stereotypes: one group of young women in particular forced the image of his twin sister into his head. They had that sense of confidence that came with competence and popularity. It was difficult not to treat the entire scene as potentially one, giant controlled experiment.<br/><br/>His feet soon found themselves carrying him into the dining hall. However, he stopped once he realized that they were no longer serving food. He suddenly recalled the Headmaster mentioning that lunch was not served until eleven. So, he would just have to wait.<br/><br/><em>Or, would he?</em><br/><br/>His left eyebrow rose as he turned a sly glance over his shoulder towards the kitchen.<br/><br/>A few moments later saw him emerging from the kitchen with a green apple in hand. The cook staff had been very polite ─ and nearly demanding ─ in their instance that he take more.  It was almost disappointing that he hadn’t gotten the chance to exercise a little unappointed liberty: he had never directly broken a campus rule in his life.<br/><br/>His left hand brought the apple to his mouth and he took a healthy-sized bite as his right hand rose to run itself through his hair. The feel of his fingertips brushing against soft, worn leather caused his eyes to shoot up: he had forgotten to take his goggles off his head. His green irises cast themselves down the hall in each direction as he took another bite. He was a professor. A chemistry professor. He was afforded the luxury of a<em>little</em>eccentricity. Right?<br/>