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Dean Luger sat in the big chair and wondered what was going to happen to him next. After all, he'd been in this business for many, many years, and he'd seen a lot of things. He had watched as an entire universe came to ruin and began anew, he had seen students fail and succeed both in and out of school, he had helped young mages learn their trade right along side superheroes and knights. Now, at Carramba, it was as though all those things were merely preparing him for what would come next. That would be 'the new school year' as always. Administration on Twoarth was better by far than most other universes he'd inhabited. His views on most principals and admin were dim at best, especially in other versions of this universe where the schooling budget was poor. Why was it, he pondered, that the less education budget was given by the government - local or otherwise - the higher 'standards' needed to be achieved, and the more admin there were to 'oversee' the instructors on their progress? It would be so much easier to simply give the admin budget to the teachers, so they could teach - right? But that was not what this world was like. Since Twoarth had two distinct humanoid species - perhaps one could say 'phenotype humanoid' because of all the variety found in the 'fur' side - they already had issues to work out. Perhaps someone high up might have nudged the place a bit, because on other worlds so much like this one, he'd seen race riots break out because someone had spots and the other didn't. Here, there were not only close to five hundred thousand different species represented in one form or another of the morphic folk, along side the 'races' of human that ranged from dark to light - but they were all here together. In order to get over themselves fighting to the death over some imagined insult (your mother has buck teeth! - oh yeah? my mom's a rabbit!), they just said hang-it-all and treated everyone as though they were quite the same. The only real differences in the species here were that the sizes and tails, coverings and uncoverings had to be dealt with. Shops specialized in human or morph clothing, furnishings and vehicles, and got on with their lives. Of course, Luger thought, there were always the Retros, the folk who for one reason or another had been brought up with the belief that not only were they superior to everyone else (a claim which every species in the multiverse had stakes on, it seemed), they assumed that everyone else was unworthy to even walk on the same side of the street as they. These Retros were not looked upon with any respect, he thought. There were a fair number of organizations which spouted such beliefs - the Human White Movement, the Aborigine Bloods, the Tails Must Wag... The list went on and on. But by and large the institution of racism was a thing of this world's past. Which left a lot of relieved genrehoppers, like him, wondering why they hadn't stopped on this world first and said to hell with the rest... Dean Luger appeared human - he was, in fact. But like many of the Nexus born, he had innate abilities which allowed him to travel through the multiverse with ease. He had not practiced this skill in quite some time, after coming to this world. Twoarth was, he reasoned, a very fine place to retire. Not that anyone would let him do that. He'd mentioned it once or twice at staff meetings, to be met with literal pleading from the instructors - and when word had gotten out to the students they actually held a rally of support to keep him on the campus as long as he would remain. Luger had had his share of run-ins with folks, he was hardly the picture of doormat-hood that some admin were. He was no pushover, but he was neither ignorant of nor truly angry with those who tried to treat him as a simpleton. Just because he enjoyed watching the students learn, just because he would let certain actions ... slide... Or because he would lend special attention to some students did not mean that he was a pushover, or a relic, or other less tasteful words. Dean Luger was a connsumate educator. He does occasionally spend time behind a desk instructing, on subjects as varied as Nexus Fabric Repair and Demon Summoning or as mundane as Cabinetmaking and Accounting. But normally he is able to use his extensive knowledge and expertise to keep the school running smoothly. If other principals are 'borderline friendly' to their staff, he noted well on journeys around the country, they were often 'borderline hostile' to the students - and grades in the school suffered accordingly. When they were too lax, social disorder crept into the schools. Too strict, and outright rebellion brewed. Rare indeed was a school similar to his own, that balanced a friendly but firm-willed staff, with competant and dynamic instructors, to keep their student body willing to come to school every day and actually learn. There was some mystery about where Dean Luger actually came from, and what his true abilities were. Though after any amount of discussion with him about it, oddly enough, those sorts of questions cease to matter to the ones asking them... Meaning? Perhaps he really does have some strong mental or empathic powers that he exerts on people? While that's likely - in fact true - he hardly uses them to outright switch moods or to make others do things they would never normally. No, he would only truly fire off a mental command at someone when they were threatening him physically - or perhaps, with conceptual damage. He does not enjoy being put on the spot. He also does not enjoy being threatened. Hardly defenseless, one would rarely presume that this older looking man would pack such a whallop either mentally or physically! He's fit, physically, but certainly not going to be running any marathons or getting in the boxing ring these days, but he doesn't mind raising a sweat to keep up with a student.
Luger leaned his head on his fist, and glanced at the clock with his eyes, barely moving his head. He could hear everything around the room bustling and bumping, but frankly this early in the morning the day of the new school term, he didn't much want to find out if anyone needed help. That would come allll year long. Sure enough, it wasn't more than two days into the new year, when Luger's office was filled with folks who needed his attention. From the attendance office requests for more time-loop-time to get things done, to a pair of students who had literally gotten themselves wedged into Nanospace and claimed they could see several colors they couldn't before... Luger held his hands up and waited for them to calm down. Everyone stood dead still, their questions all answered in quick order. They all dispersed out his office door, all save Engell. The white-haired yet much younger-looking corporate executive leaned against the door to close it behind the rest as they left. "Well, I need to discuss something that, surprisingly, has not come up with you yet." He sat in the large leather chair opposite Luger, and they surveyed one another with almost the same careful look across the big wooden desk. If Engell grew a mustache, and perhaps padded himself with another fifty pounds of weight, they might look like brothers, or perhaps uncle and nephew. "Now that would cover a lot of ground," Luger chuckled, "Though not as much as I'd like to admit..." Engell leaned back, and smiled. This world's Alabaster Incorporated held stock in Carramba High, along with a number of other local educational institutions, in addition to its normal fare of entertainment and information law. Engell himself was, as always, a supurb lawyer, but it was something else that brought him here to the Dean's office today. "Have you met the dragons, Luger?" "Of course I have, Hollis and the rest of those folks keep snapping up the other instructors and students. That's half the buildings we need to paint, those new ones going up past the track." He lifted his eyebrow up over his eyeglasses. "And why would you ask me about them?" Engell smiled with that warm 'I'm a lawyer and I know what I'm doing' way. "There are a few that need homes, places to go and people to keep them in line. Not troublemakers," he was quick to point out, "But those who have come a very long way to become students or staff here." "Well, I can't say that I have't had something to do with that," Luger laughed. "Many of them came through universes I opened up before your little dimensional mishap." "True," Engell said, "But that is not quite why I'm here... I am here to ask you to sponsor one. Or... two. Perhaps more. You seem rather competent in keeping people in line, why not with dragons?" Dean Luger sat back, wrinkling his forehead with thought. Many thoughts. It was something he'd seen around the campus to a great success, he enjoyed like everyone did, the performances of the Dragon Stunt Team too. But could he even consider sponsoring? At his age? Well - look at Engell, and Sanger for that matter. Age, he realized didn't have anything to do with it at all. There were dragons that needed guidance through their young life here, and darned if he wasn't up to the task! "Well point me in the right direction, Engell, I'll be happy to help. I'll consider it a job perk." | ||||||||||||||||
Apparently it was a project that was well under way, a series of gorgeous dragons being bred together to produce a 'perfect' specimin. Some wandered away under their own power while others gathered around sponsors, and yet more decided that one person from many would be their special friend. Dean Luger straightened his jacket and gently brushed at his mustache (an unconscious movement) as he waited. A few minutes later, as the hatchlings came gracefully out, one of them paused and looked long and hard with starry-grey eyes at Luger. "I think you and I will get along well," said the dark-skinned dragonet. His ear twitched, the grey fluff topping it still sticky with a bit of egg goo. Luger reached down and picked some of it off, fluffing the elegant dragonet's mane. "I think you're right. And no one could argue about policy with you and me behind a desk, eh?" "I suppose not, but I would like to see what life is like on the other side of the desk first," he blinked and rubbed his horn-nub onto Luger's hand for a scratching. "I want to be a bit of a pest first. I can do that right?" "Of course you can, Fahrlanath Mai, that's what school is for, after all!" He led the small hatchling away. Dean Luger knew that the 'small' aspect of this dragonet wouldn't last very long. Though he might always be slender and slinky, this dragonet's parentage included some quite large and ostentatious dragons! "We'll have to find a good place to let you sleep when you're bigger," Luger said mostly to himself, thinking on his den which could be expanded magically to suit the dragon's length... |
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Name: Fahrlanath Mai |
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Mate: Sholoon Chxalli Offspring (so far): Felnoo-mai, Sonnata-mai |
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