Kanan Jarrus

Kanan wasn't completely certain how this whole thing was going to go, admittedly, but it was kind of undeniably clear that there were a few students who seemed to have it out for him in particular, and the result, the last time around, had been...

...

Well, he hadn't enjoyed it. And so he'd asked them to meet him in his office for a chat. They weren't in trouble, per se, but considering their tricks had gone from 'glittery party bus' to 'getting Kanan in trouble with the Dean under false pretenses,' he figured now was as good a time as any to clear the air, some.

And so he was waiting in his office, staring down... the painting of himself as a soggy loth-cat that Sabine had painted on the inside of his office door.

"Right."

Somebody remind him again why he was a teacher?

[OOC: For the Drama Diamonds!]

Kanan didn't spend much time in his office, these days. He supposed he ought to, but most students who needed him tended to be able to find him, either at the diner or on Fridays while he was training with his lightsaber.

This Friday... he was not going to be training with his lightsaber, no, and he'd messaged all the usual Friday suspects to tell them as much. If they needed him for anything besides, he was going to be in his office at the school, with a kettle of hot water on for tea, because... yeah, he was still not going to share his caf.

There was a bit of tidying to do, since he hadn't held office hours in roughly forever, so he busied himself with that while he waited for what he was sure was potentially impending disaster. He'd had to leave his blaster at home. His lightsaber was, of course, still in its component parts on his belt, because there was no way on Malachor he was going without after that one year where Vader had arrived on the island.

Ever.

Nope.

He hated Parents Weekend so much.

[OOC: Open!]

Okay, so Kanan had been a bit lax when it came to holding his office hours, this term. In his defense, he'd been a cat for much of it so far. And for the rest... eh. He hadn't cared enough to bother. He was still contemplating just taking off for somewhere else, after all. That galaxy they kept hitting, the one with the Krogans (and their liquor), seemed familiar in a distant sort of way, a mix of humans and a host of other alien people that... well... he didn't recognize, but it still seemed more like home than here.

Shame he'd spent all of last night drinking the ryncol (bad idea) instead of plotting his escape to a reality that at least sort of made sense. And shame they were apparently parked on some place with entirely too much cheese now. Kanan had been hosting a hangover all through class that morning, and when it came time to leave... it was bright out. Not great for a headache. And everything stank of cheese. And Kanan liked cheese, but the thought of going out there made him want to curl up and die a little, so he'd retreated to his office, instead. Preferably to wait out the hangover.

How that turned into meditating as the morning progressed was anybody's best guess. Master Kenobi was rubbing off on him, maybe. And nobody needed to know that he wasn't just sitting with his eyes closed. Letting his consciousness drift and explore however the Force nudged it was...

It was okay. It beat paying attention to the hangover and the sun and the cheese, anyway.

[OOC: Open office, why not!]

Some crazy person had given Kanan an office.

Okay, some crazy person had given Kanan a job, and with the job came an office, to better facilitate the whole 'doing the job' thing that was apparently a part of his life now. Still the fact remained, here was Kanan, and here was Kanan's office. So, no better time than the present to contemplate what lapse in judgment had led to this. Kanan had even brought a cup of coffee - he still hadn't figured out where to find the real caf on the island - and his notes for his lesson plans.

He would thank anybody walking by his office to not point out the fact that those notes were currently written on napkins. He'd been sort of forced to improvise, having found his way to the island with precisely nothing at all. But now he'd liberated a stack of paper from the main office and was transcribing his notes to the best of his ability. It probably would have been an easier task without the grease stains from the Mooby fries, granted.

Like most other aspects of Kanan's life these days, it was a work in progress.

[OOC: Office office office! Open!]