school days.

[uncertainty]

[ This class was kind of stupid. Studious and hardworking as Tavros was, there was simply no way at all he found himself even remotely invested in American History. The wars were short and didn't quite have the profound impact on the universe that the teacher seemed to want him to believe, the leaders often incompetent and dying far too quickly to have any sort of real rein, and the dates were confusing enough as it was.

He should have been paying more attention. He really should have. But when would he ever use this? When faced with the daunting task of learning all of the Earth language and severely underdeveloped mathematical forumlas, he could really care less who George Washington was and why he and his bizarre wooden teeth are in any way important to the fate of the universe.

The only reason he hadn't dropped this class and switched it for another was the boy seated beside him, looking bored and cool as one can look. Dave Strider is so cool, those unworthy often develop a case of frostbite simply by being too close. And he's all Tavros'. Sort of. Secretly. ]

i LISTENED TO THAT CD LAST NIGHT,
iT WAS, rEALLY GOOD,
i APPRECIATE THE, uH, bLENDING OF aLTERNIAN SLAM AND eARTHLING RAP,
mY AURAL CLOTS WERE ADEQUATELY CHASTISED FOR, nAUGHTILY dOUBTING THAT THE TWO COULD MIX,
iN A WAY THAT WASN'T BAD, oR, dISRESPECTFUL TO EITHER GENRE,