uncertain_dume | Office Hours, Saturday

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Office Hours, Saturday

Alright. So, apparently a part of being a teacher in a place like this was the whole... having to talk to the families of the students... thing. Which, Kanan supposed, he could appreciate, since there were students here who actually had families. And hey, good for them. Kanan was happy for them, really. He just had such a small amount of exposure to the whole concept of family that he felt as though he was going into this whole thing blind.

He supposed there was a chance that he'd be lucky and none of his students would have family after all.

He wrinkled his nose a moment later, realizing how terrible that was.

Maybe he should have brought his dog. Stance was way better with people than he was.

[OOC: Open for anyone who has any interest in pestering a gunslinger Padawan!]

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Don't worry, Kanan - you didn't have to do this alone!

Cecil knocked on the door and grinned. "Hi, roomie! I don't actually have an office, but I thought, well, if anyone wants to meet you, they'd want to meet me, too, right? Has anybody showed up yet?"

Well... Cecil wasn't Stance, but he was almost puppy enough for the occasion. Kanan glanced up at him from where he'd parked himself behind his desk, trying not to look as anxious about this whole thing as he actually was.

There was something off this weekend beyond just the presence of strange people, but he couldn't really put a finger on what. It really wasn't helping with the twitchiness, though.

"Not a single person," he replied. "I'm not complaining, really."

At all. In the least.

"Oh, well." Cecil shrugged. "Sometimes they can't make it, or the students don't have parents, or the parents are intimidated by schools. And parents don't take an interest in their students, which is pretty sad. Hopefully some will show up."

And now Kanan felt like a bad person for that thought he'd had earlier about students and family. Thanks for that, Cecil.

"Do you, uh, have any experience with that sort of thing?" He frowned a little. "I'm new at this. Parent relationships aren't exactly my strong point."

"Well, my mother was usually around, I'm pretty sure." Cecil shrugged. "And I'm on the PTA at home, because my niece still goes to school. But I've never been a teacher before."

"I don't even have the benefit of experience with a... PTA, is it?" Kanan frowned thoughtfully, and then shook his head. "I suppose we'll make it through the weekend one way or another, and I'm probably being ridiculous, being intimidated by this."

"The Parent/Teachers' Association," Cecil explained helpfully. "It's a way to get together and discuss things that affect all the students. And to watch Steve Carlsberg make his horrible attempt at food again. Honestly, I don't know why he bothers; nobody eats it. Nobody even likes him, really, though I suppose showing up is the least he can do..."

If Kanan didn't interrupt, he could keep going on. And probably would.

Kanan was detecting a smidgen of animosity, there.

Just a touch.

"Well, it's fortunate that there isn't a PTA on the island for him to cook for," he said, quickly. "There... isn't a PTA, is there? Since there aren't really any parents around?"

"Not that I know of," Cecil said. "Although somebody must be looking out for the students, right?"

Kanan gave Cecil a wry smile.

"I'm pretty sure that's our job, Cecil."

"Well, not on our own!" Cecil protested. "And I mean, what about things like making sure they get decent meals, or that the classes aren't dangerous?"

He said to the guy who'd had his students fight a rancor for a final.

Hey, hey, there had been safety protocols on that rancor!

Kanan squinted a little.

"Define 'dangerous.'"

Partly because his classes growing up had involved weapons training, and partly because Cecil's idea of things like this could be a bit on the skewed side.

Hey, Cecil had learned weapons like any good Night Valean!

"Likely to kill more of them than will be replaced by the next class?" Cecil said, his tone clearly saying "duh". "Or involving things like unfettered librarians."

Kanan was quiet for a long moment before next venturing, "So, how many students have been killed in classes since you first came to the island?"

This seemed like important information.

"Here?" Cecil asked. "None!" He shook his head. "I mean, I can hardly believe it - zero percent mortality rate? Who manages that?"

"None of the schools I've ever been to," Kanan replied, frowning.

It was true. From a certain point of view.

"I suppose this place is out to make the rest of us look bad."

"You think so?" Cecil frowned. "That's a pretty rotten reason to not kill people, though."

"... Uh, Cecil." Kanan was side-eyeing him for that one, just a little. "I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll take pretty much any reason to not kill our students. "

"I guess," Cecil answered, still a little dubious.

"I am heeeeeeeeeeeear to discuss Kuzco!" a woman, scary beyond all reason, announced from the doorway.

... Oh. Okay. So apparently Kanan was right to be intimidated by this weekend. This, right here, was proof of that.

"Oh. Um." He blinked. He blinked again, just to make sure that he was actually awake and this wasn't some sort of horrifying Force vision. Nope. This was the here and the now. Good. Good. "Well, you're in the right place, then. I'm here to discuss any of my students."

"Kuzco, then," Yzma demanded.

Ah, Kuzco. Kanan was already wondering who drove who crazy in this situation, because Kuzco and his visitor here both seemed insufferable in their own very special ways.

"He seems to be under the impression that you're coming to take him home," Kanan offered, giving her a wry smile. "Because he's blossomed so much."

Yzma threw her head back and cackled.

"No, he is not returning home."

Ever, if Yzma had her way.

Yeah, Kanan had had a feeling.

"You seem pleased about that," he observed, looking faintly amused, himself.

"He is incredibly irritating and no one misses him," Yzma said.

"So you dump him off on us? How is that even fair?"

Kanan. Kanan that was not how teachers were supposed to behave, Kanan.

"I don't care about fair," Yzma sniffed. "I only care about away."

"Now, look, I can't say I entirely blame you," KANAN. "I can see how you might want a break from that much ego all crammed into one awkward teen. But he was actually excited that you were going to be coming to get him."

Because Kuzco was deluded. Details.

Yzma laughed harder. "No, I am not retrieving him. He's staying."

"You are a cold, cold woman," Kanan mused, pursing his lips faintly. "Have you got any concerns while he's here? Anything you're hoping he'll pick up on?"

Humility wouldn't hurt, really, would it?

"That we don't really want him back?" Yzma offered, then laughed again. "Kidding! Kidding!"

She wasn't kidding.

Yeah... Kanan had seen enough of Kuzco to know better than to think she was.

He could wish she was, but he wasn't going to hold his breath.

"Well, if we can't manage that, we'll at least try to show him the definition of humility," he noted.

But he wasn't going to hold his breath on that one, either.

"Please," Yzma said emphatically. "Otherwise, we might have to kill him!"

Hahahaha. Or something.

Oh, Yzma. Kanan was giving you such a look right then.

"As annoying as the kid is, if it comes down to actually literally killing him, just send him back," he sighed, and then reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Just... give us plenty of warning first."

Dammit, his inner Caleb wouldn't let him let that one slide.

"I shall give no notice at all!" she said, throwing her hands dramatically into the air.

Kanan just sat there, and squinted.

"I'm beginning to see where he gets it from," he noted, dryly.

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Office Hours, Saturday

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