{etiquette} a lesson of virtue.

[dee.]

Light conversations filled the room, the passersby filling each corner with the hum of voice. The period between classes was always like this. At first, very few would enter the room. The thick, oak door separating halls from open rooms remaining sealed. During this time, there was very little to do. One might stare out the few windows gracing the outside walls, through the pulled back, lace curtains out to the flowering gardens and rolling hills of the grounds; where gypsies lurked and the unmotivated sulked through the bushes and flowerbeds, attempting to escape lessons. Where the sun lit the carefully snipped grasses and the breeze blew papers out of unsuspecting hands. Where eyes would wander when there was simply a lack of interest.

The classroom itself was devoid of activity. Each desk remained open, the chalkboard remained as it was; the date was written in a careful cursive in the top, left-hand corner while the lesson lie beneath it, waiting for curious eyes to inform. There was a heavy, cedar desk at the head of the room, pushed to the outside wall where it met with a window at its front and a bookshelf at its back. Assorted papers, pens and books cluttered the top, strewn with an organized manner only its owner could possibly comprehend. A porcelain vase of yellow and orange tulips sat brightly on the corner, freshly cut to add color to the otherwise colorless room.

When it was possible, the professor that diligently taught this classroom’s inhabitants chauffeured his students outside for their lessons; where he would teach dance, social manners and the like by show. At times, this meant laying out a full table to teach the intricacies of the dinner parties he so favored. The instructor seemed to notice his students were more apt to snap to and listen when outside of the stuffy class and in the open air. Besides, it wasn’t harming anyone to sit on grass rather then in worn, dusty desks.

Today, the chalkboard held the date, and beneath it the words “Etiquette Review- The Basics”. Perhaps the students were doomed to stay enclosed in the classroom this day. Reviews were nasty things, after all. None the less, the professor, who had only just entered the room himself, seemed cheery as he glided across the front of the room, scanning over any inhabitants with a curt nod as he went for his desk.

Gabriel de Bontecou, the blonde-haired devil himself. Dressed smartly -though he currently lacked a proper jacket, wearing a dark, olive colored vest, instead – in a pair of dark, coal slacks, vest & a crisp dress shirt in white, the man was obviously a teacher of some sort. He lacked the uniform that the young men were to wear, instead choosing his own line of clothing. However, compliments on his current attire would be lacking, for his sleeves were pushed up past his elbows and the top button of his dress shirt was undone. Not that he was bothered; comfort was a must when dealing with groups of raucous young men. Being uncomfortable would distract him from his teaching.

It was a practiced excuse. Though, he would remedy the problems when class began, as always. The man was teaching etiquette, after all.

Fiddling with the dark, emerald ring on his left thumb, Gabriel stood on the open end of his desk, leaning slightly as he peered across the top searchingly. The side of his mouth crooked in a frown as he furrowed his brows, obviously failing in his search. Casting his eyes around, he soon found what he had been looking for.

Draped across a particularly worn looking book on the shelves adjacent to his desk was a silver pocket watch, the thing lying untouched and partially hanging off of its resting place. He skirted around the back of his desk and chair, grabbing the thing and nimbly pinning it back on his vest and into his pocket, patting the front of it for good measure. Class would start shortly, and he wasn’t one to be kind to the unlucky few who stumbled late into his class.

There was no ‘fashionably late’ in this world.