it's oh so quiet [[Staff and Friends]] it's oh so still

Spicer straightened the front of her pale pink dress, admiring the way it hugged her waist and kept her tummy flat. She looked good. She wasn't a vain woman, as a rule, but she wasn't above congratulating herself on an outfit well done. Her homecoming outfit definitely fell within that category and she could only hope that no student saw fit to make some 'clever' comment about her appearance. Despite this, she was actually quite relieved that the homecoming crowd was going to be maily comprised of students. She had chaperoned every school event she had been able to since she had begun teachin at Harriman. She felt it was her responsibilty to keep the young men and their raging hormones safely at bay, especially when there was a large group of scantily clad girls available.

It seemed this year, actually, that many of the Harriman girls had opted for gowns instead of that style of dress that could barely be called a shirt. It was quite commendable, actually, and Spicer felt the glow of pride towards the young ladies who had at one time or another been her students. Spicer took a break from her duty of surveying the students and walked gracefully to the table with the punch bowl on it. She was totally at home in heels of any size, and it was no trouble for her to make it to the punch without even the hint of a stumble. She placed a braceleted and ringed hand on the tablecloth under the snacks and punch, admiring the work the students had put into decorating the place. She wrapped a finger around a swatch of fishing net that had been spread over the tablecloth, her thoughts trailing through her knowledge of maritime literature, hardly noticing what was going around her for the moment.

Erik sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as he watched the excited students. He didn't know why he was chaperoning this event, to be completely honest. He'd never even been to a Homecoming dance, and he had no idea how he was supposed to make sure everything was going according to plan if he didn't know what the plan was. From what he knew about school dances, though, everything looked pretty normal. Girls in dresses, boys in ties, bopping around to their hip tunes... it all seemed pretty standard. Which was good for Erik, because it meant he got to just lean against the wall with his hands resting in his pockets and observe. And that was all he'd been doing so far. It was either that or dance, and though he respected it as an art form, Erik had the coordination of a derranged stork. He much preferred his more relaxed position against the wall. Besides, he thought teachers that danced at student dances were a little pathetic. Like they were trying to regain their youth or something. But it was easy for Erik to make that criticism, seeing as he was still fairly young for a teacher. Not fresh out of college, but certainly a newbie. And he looked like an awkward newbie as he shifted his weight against the wall and ran a hand through his hair again. He was starting to feel the awkwardness of having stayed there the entire time, and decided he needed to mix it up a little bit. Maybe if he had a glass of punch in his hand, he wouldn't feel the need to fix his hair every four seconds.

Erik looked around until he found what seemed to be the refreshments table. He was on the other side of the room, and so he had to dodge students as he tried to cross the dancefloor. Someone stepped on his foot, making him growl and glare about to see who it was, but the perpetrator had disappeared into the crowd. Frowning slightly, he kept walking until he'd finally made it to the other side. He wanted to leave now. He wondered if he could... maybe make up some half-assed excuse about how he'd left the stove on or something like that. He just wasn't having a very fun time. He didn't really like the music, for one thing. He thought the theme for the homecoming was kind of stupid. And he didn't like having to wear his suit either. He didn't have anything against suits, but he was feeling a little chilly and wished he could be wrapped up in a cozy turtleneck or something like that.

"Hey, Mr. Canio!" shouted a voice. Erik turned around, but he couldn't tell who'd called his name. So he just gave a small nod at the dancing students, since that was where the voice had come from, and when he turned back to the table he bumped into a woman standing there.

"Ah-!" Erik's hand slapped against the side of the table in an attempt to steady himself, and he quickly stepped away from the woman. "Excuse me miss..." he said, not so much embarassed as he was just angry with himself for having been so careless. He looked at the woman and faintly recognized her as a fellow teacher. A chaperone as well, he assumed, unless she was some student's date. He was pretty sure that wasn't allowed. "Miss... Spicer, right?" he said, giving her a small tight-lipped smile. He was almost positive that was her name, otherwise he wouldn't have said it. He couldn't remember what it was she taught, though. He thought he'd seen her around the writing wing before, but he wasn't sure. "I suppose you got roped into this chaperoning thing as well?" he asked with a sigh as he grabbed the ladle that was bobbing around in the punchbowl, and proceeded to spoon the rosy colored drink into a plastic cup.

Spicer was just recalling a particularly thrilling passage in The Odyssey to mind when all thoughts of sirens and beeswax were rudely shoved out of her mind. Her body was just as ill used, though she thought the rudeness in the gesture was not intended. A man that she only knew well enough to recognize as a fellow teacher had apparently lost his footing and was now leaning heavily against the stretch of table beside her. She had half a mind to hold his accidental disrespect of her personal space against him, but he seemed honestly distraught by his mistake. Instead of making a thing of it, Spicer merely smiled warmly. It surely wasn't the smile she shared with her friends, but it meant she was prepared to give the clumsy stranger a chance.

"That's correct, I'm Deidre. I take it you're one of the new ones?" She meant new teacher, of course. "You don't look like you'd make a good Ms. Frith. You must be Mr. Canio." She new the name from her time traveling with her old repertory company. She wondered if he knew about the connection or if it was one of those strange coincidences in life. She considered his question, running her eyes once again over the center of the room. "I don't think roped in is quite the right phrase. I rather like it here." She caught the eye of a couple of students who had begun getting just a little too 'romantic' on the dance floor. They sprang apart as if they'd been shocked and she shot them a knowing grin. "Though, if I'm not mistaken, the students would rather have me back in my house and grading their papers."

She chuckled dryly, "I take it you aren't as thrilled to be here as our hormonal friends are?" It wasn't technically a question, but the raised eyebrow and intonation made it one. She waited for him to be finished with the ladle, then took it from him before he could replace it, beginning to fill her own plastic cup with the punch. She hoped nobody had gotten a chance to spike it yet.

Maiya had walked in hoping that homecoming wouldn't be as so out of hand as it usually turned out to be. She didn't mind going along to these events, so long as she wasn't bothered by the other students, and was allowed to be left to her own devices. Taking a drink in the corner, watch the students, if she was lucky she might be able to sneak out later. Her dress swished as she walked, until she came to a stop in front of where everyone was dancing. It would be weird to dance at a homecoming, especially since she was a teacher, no matter how good it looked it would still be strange.

Mai sighed, walking over purposefully towards the small gathering of teachers, her heels clicking as she went, it was probably best to stick with them. She smiled in greeting as she reached them both, realising she didn't know the male teacher, Maiya looked between them "I don't think we've met?" She asked unsurely, "I'm Maiya Philips" Mai introduced, she hadn't seen him before, so he couldn't have been part of the theatre, he was probably the new choir director she had been told about.

"I hope it doesn't get too out of control. So long as no one spikes the drink" Maiya rolled her eyes, so far the students looked to be having a wonderful time and the decorations committee had done a wonderful job. The hall looked amazing, and the music was great! Maiya fiddled with the clasp on her clutch bag, there were a few teachers tonight. Perhaps she could slip away without notice. If anyone asked she could always say ... something, make up some excuse.

Erik reached up and scratched one eyebrow as he tilted his head and looked around at the students. "Yeah..." he said, giving a small nod to the woman. "Mr. Canio." He still had yet to really get used to students and staff alike referring to him as "mister" and then his last name. Though he had a bit of a stuffy personality, Erik had never insisted to others to refer to him in any way that was considered even mildly formal. In fact, he'd considered mentioning to students they could call him by anything they wished (so long as it was respectful) on the first day, but had decided the other teachers might see it as him trying to undermine them or something. He'd decided to wait on stuff like that until he'd got to know the other staff members better. Unfortunately (or fortunately, he had no way of knowing) he still had yet to have any real conversations with the other teachers. After all, anytime not spent teaching he spent learning, studying his textbooks and whatnot. And if he wasn't doing that, he was doing something else that kept him cooped up inside the choir room or his tiny little "office" extending from it. It would probably be good for him to get out of his shell and talk to the other teachers a bit.

Unfortunately, Erik had no real desire to do anything of the sort.

As much as he enjoyed having intelligent conversations with other intellectuals, Erik despised the idea of going off and seeking them out. It felt so forced, he simply couldn't stand it. But he decided that, perhaps, since he'd just sort of bumped into this woman, maybe he could at least try to uphold a conversation with her. But that was the thing. He hated trying.

"Not really," he admitted, shaking his head slightly and taking a sip from his cup. "I've never been a huge fan of these... dances," he said, motioning towards the kids. "Or this music, if you can really call it that. I can't imagine how they can listen to it, much less dance to it," he said dryly. He was about to ask her what she taught, since he'd learned it before but had now forgotten, when a female student walked up, adding herself into the conversation. He frowned at the girl, feeling as if she'd just interrupted him, but then remembered that he hadn't actually been talking when she spoke up, and the frown faded into a straight line.

"Erik Canio, I'm the new choir director," he explained. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Philips," he greeted her. "I don't believe I've seen you around the choir room before. What's your area of study?" he asked, glancing at Deidre to hint that she should also tell him what she did, at least to refresh his memory. His mouth twitched, something that might have been an attempt to smile, at her comment about the punch. "Well, it tastes fine to me, though I've been wrong before," he added with an arched eyebrow, letting the two ladies infer from that what they wished.