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OOC: Damn subject heading wasn't large enough -_- ML stands for Maisy Lockheart.
IC:
Maisy was trying her best to sink into her seat and disappear. She'd been hoping against all hope that the Lockdown would last through the entire class and she wouldn't have to face the torture which she was now enduring. No such luck. She would've sighed, but that would've drawn attention to her and right now her intention was avoiding Pyrford's gaze. She might've known the answer if she'd been called on (it sounded frustratingly familiar)...but only because she'd failed the course the year before.
"Anyone?" the history Prof. asked.
/Just move on, just move on.../Maisy begged silently.
He combed the room in the hopes of finding a raised hand and an eager smile.
"Well?"
Silence.
"May? Can you give us the answer?" Pyrford asked, looking her way. He looked sympathetic and she knew that even if she gave the wrong answer he wouldn't think the less of her. The whole history department probably knew how hopeless she was at their subject.
/No such luck!/
"Err...I..." she sweatdropped as all eyes turned to her. Her glasses slipped a little down the bridge of her nose.
Andrew nudged Darkwind, who was perched on his shoulder in bondbird form.
::The Hittites::
Maisy would have to kill Darkwind later. She didn't much like sudden uninvited guests in her mind.
"The Hittites."
::They also absorbed the cultural influences of several other Mesopotamian civilisations, had their own system of cuneiform and hieroglyphs, invented a type of war chariot which made them feared throughout the surrounding lands, used a highly successful form of seigecraft...::
::Where are you getting this?::
The second mind-voice felt like Andrew's.
::Where else? The Prof.::
::Thief!::
Maisy fixed her glasses, smiling meekly. "I....uhh, think..."
The conversation between Darkwind and Andrew faded out as Darkwind probably realised he'd still been in contact with her.
Pyrford smiled and nodded, his greying hair in slight disarray.
OOC: Sorry for having all of my characters provide the answer, but I feel the need to have the class move a bit more slowly considering this is only the morning of the second day.
There was a hand up in the classroom, a hand which belonged to a thin orange-haired girl. Even though there had been no such hand up when Maisy was answering the question, the girl to whom it belonged had a look about her which suggested that she'd been waiting patiently for some time.
"Yes?"
OOC: I don't have my Ancient Civ. binder with me so I'll have Kuwaguma's reply on my next post. |