Just waiting for the morning classes.

Zviadi leaned back on the brown chair he was sitting on inside the teachers lounge. His fingers idly playing with a pen, one of his legs was pushing on the table. "Hmm hmmh mmmm~" he was humming something, maybe not even a song. It was the start of the school day and he happened to be one of the only people inside the lounge. It was a truly boring start of the day.

Sadiq yawned absently as he entered the teachers lounge, his second cup nearly empty. Under his arm were some books and notes he needed for class, to be honest he was glad to be teaching again. Punks or not they were his students now and he had at least try to teach them something. He grumbled something in his native Turkish about the weak coffee in this place.

He then finally noticed another person in the room. Was it? Yea.....Zviadi.....his cousin. He had to thank him for helping him get the job here, if not......ugh....he didn't want to think about it.

He smirked and slammed the papers on the table, hopefully jolting the man out of his daydream. "Heya Cousin."

At first it was a quiet morning.

Puffing white clouds of some unknown substance burning in his pipe, Daan opened the door to the teacher’s lounge. He thought he needed to put up things straight before beginning his new job as a teacher and standing in front of students that were interested in his class. His lessons were only beginning in two hours anyway.

The noise provoked by Saquid’s slamming pulled the Dutch out of his thoughts as he entered. He looked about and noticed the lounge was not really empty. Sighing and releasing the smoke along some rumbling from his mouth he closed the door. Then, as he removed his rather weighty bag from the shoulder, he said: “It didn’t worked waking him up”.

The new arrival was right. His cousin seemed entranced in whatever fantasy he had weaved. Eh, he could always bother him later. He turned his attention to this new guy, puffing away at some unknown inebriation.

"Seems like it." he agreed, finishing off the last bit in his cup. "Oy, you new here as well? Name's Sadiq Annan.....teaching Political and World Studies. Daydreamer here is my cousin."

Daan looked at the person who has spoken to him. He took the pipe between his fingers releasing once more the steam while putting his bag on the table. A light and quick smile spread on his mouth while answering to Sadiq: “Nice to meet you, and your sleepy cousin – he looked at Zviadi before returning his eyes upon the coffee-drinking man – I’m the new teacher of History of Arts, and my name is Daan Vanackere. “.Then he opened his bag and took out a newspaper and a little tin.

This one........was quiet, reserved. Somehow it irritated Sadiq....people like that always seemed to want to say something but for one reason or another didn't.

"Nice to meetcha Vanackere. Settling in well?" he asked curiously eying that strange tin.

This time the Dutch took about twenty seconds before answering to Sadiq. He put the paper and the tin on the table and while examinating the inside of his pipe he sighed. He rumbled something about the lack of weeds to continue the smoke. And really there were not much of them left in the pipe, since it nearly all burnt. He then looked at the Turk, wondering why that fellow cared to ask such question, and answered him calmly but somehow it sounded quite forced: “You could say that. “ He then sighed again and continued not forcefully: “However it’s sad that there’s not much of tobacco I like left with me”.

This one.....was irritating. Sadiq resisted the urge to grab him and shake him vigorously. He wanted to see some emotion out of this guy. Surely, he felt something.

"Well,thats good" he replied pouring another cup of coffee. Maybe this one would actually wake him up.

"I know a shop downtown, sells all kind of tobacco. Hate to admit it,but I just can't seem ta quit.......completely. I'll show it to ya sometime. Maybe they carry whatever ya got in that pipe of yours."