101° F [Nicoleta/Open]

'Sa stii ca eu,
Eu incerc dar nu prea reusesc.
Cred ca nu e specific barbatesc.
Totusi o sa incerc sa iti soptesc--'

"Te iubesc~"

The Romanian sang softly with the small radio on her tidy desk as she signed off on the doctor's note of a 'Piter Petrovich', another student who she assumed didn't want to participate in Mr. Simeonov's class. And she couldn't exactly blame them; Every broken arm, severe asthma attack, torn muscle, and sprained ankle seemed to find its way from the gym to her office. Yet when she had warned the man of the dangers of overexerting the students he simply laughed and another wave of injured kids spilled into her office that day.

Not that she had expected any different, though.

But without all those injuries it was going to be just another uneventful day. Nicoleta tucked the slip away in a folder to be placed in the filing cabinet later and folded her hands in front of her, a tiny sigh escaped her red-stained lips. Even if somebody came down with a paper cut it would be a blessing.

((what is this lame thing. BOTHER THE NURSE.))

He shuffled down to the office, skipping Gym. If he went, something terrible would happen and he would have to explain that to his parents. That was something he wanted to avoid. And even if he wasn't sickly, he would still have gone down here mostly out of habit.

Chong Hwa knocked on the door softly. Waiting a few minutes, he decided to take the initiative and opened the door only enough to poke his head in. "Hello? Ms. Ionescu?" Hearing her sing, he thought of leaving quickly. If she didn't hear, he could sit outside and there wouldn't be a problem.

But still he lingered behind the door, conflicted on what to do.

((Not much of a bother, but still.))

((Chong Hwa, your ass is grass when Mr.Simeonov finds you. (8 ))

"Hello? Ms. Ionescu?"

Apparently her prayer had been answered.

With a broad smile, Nicoleta straightened up and waited for the student to enter. A minute went by, then two, yet nobody made an appearance. The Romanian's expression fell, slightly worried by the sudden silence of the boy. She stood up.

"Alo?"

She leaned over her desk to peer at the door.

"Are you alright, dear?"

((Chong Hwa, baby, hide in Nico's bosom. IT IS THE ONLY SAFE PLACE.))

"Are you alright, dear?"

He stayed at the door for a few more seconds as if reluctant, then quickly got in. He held the handles of his backpack, relieved that his inner conflict was no more.

He did not bother to sit, unsure as to sit down or lie down. "I am not fine. If I was... Well, I suppose I would still be here anyways." He played with his sleeves, trying to formulate a response that did not sound pathetic.

He looked at the radio on the nurse's desk, trying to avoiding eye contact. "I am sick in a way, but I mostly came here to avoid Gym."

((He will hide there forever, but he must be administered soup so he will level up.))

((You say that like Kiril wouldn't just motorboat his way into her tits (B

"The bottle said to see the nurse if dealing with an erection lasting more than four hours.....well, mila? (8 Get to it. /facetouch"

Run. 8I))

((SCREAM))

She waved to one of the seats near her desk as she sat down in her own. Funny how she was just thinking of that class.

Nicoleta rested her chin on her hand and watched the boy curiously as he made himself comfortable. The smile had crept back onto her face, not quite as full as it had previously been, but it was just as warm and welcoming.

"How do you mean 'sick'?" She opened one of the desk drawers to take out a thermometer. "Are you feverish? Do you have stomach cramps? Pains? We need to have some sort of excuse for Mr. Simeonov, hmm?"

He stepped carefully to the seat. Once on it, Chong Hwa shifted constantly to find a proper position to sit. He quickly gave up once he caught sight of the smile. He settled for a straightened back and hands on his knees.

"We need to have some sort of excuse for Mr. Simeonov, hmm?"

An excuse? Well, fatigue wouldn't probably cut it. But he had a memory for various symptoms, considering he had most of them. "I am sick in that I feel weak sometimes. And that my stomach does cramp up when I strain myself too much."

He paused, tapping his chin. "I'm not sure about the fever part. Perhaps checking would help?" He tried smiling at her, a tiny one so it didn't look like a grimace.

She couldn't help but noticed how tense the boy was. Perhaps he was uncomfortable around her? Or maybe around women.

..Or people in general.

Still, Nicoleta remained in 'mama-bear' mode. No way was she going to let up on her nurturing side. Besides she found that even the coldest of people would begin to lighten up to her. Eventually.

Pacing around the desk and to his side, she went through the simple procedure of taking his temperature. After a moment she glanced down at the glass.

"Well...You're warm..but not feverish." She offered a grin. "Thank goodness for that, right?" She turned to write down notes then glanced back at him.

"I won't send you back to class but I would like to ask you a few questions.." He sat so stiffly. She didn't like it. "Eh, would you like to lay down? You'll feel better if you do Mr......?"

Nicoleta had a hard time remembering names- mostly because handfuls of people passed through her office. Hopefully he would forgive her.

((SORRY TO CRASH, BUT PITER NEEDS HELP DESPERATELY--))

He was not entirely sure how he'd landed himself in this situation. So often did he give lip to people, that it didn't even strike him as remarkable anymore--subsequently, the gym teacher's ultimatum seemed almost to have come from nowhere. Almost.

And unfortunately, he wasn't sure what else to do about it, except explain the situation to the only other person who had any say-so in such matters: the nurse. Perhaps she would at least be kind enough to send an ambulance for him now. Approaching her office, he rapped lightly on the back of the door with his knuckles, aware that she was treating someone else for the time being, "So sorry to interrupt, I suppose I'll just wait. Is Matrona here, by chance?" As difficult as it was for him to hold his tongue with anyone, he did make an effort to be reasonably civil with the nurse. She was the one signing his tickets out of gym, after all.

Not to mention, if he was on bad terms with her, she might not have let him stick around to chat with Motya, on the various occasions he came around to get his on-and-off TB treatment.

When he heard he wouldn't go back to class, he afforded himself a small slouch in relief. Good. He really didn't want to be put through hell today. Or ever, but he couldn't simply avoid the class every day. It would result in a lecture and probably 'the stick'. He stopped there; no use thinking about that.

"Ah, Mr. Kang." He then thought of other ways he could have phrased this. He was so stupid. Who would call him 'Mr. Kang'? He was not important or respectable. "O-or just Chong Hwa...But I think I will be fine sitting. Thank you."

"So sorry to interrupt, I suppose I'll just wait. Is Matrona here, by chance?"

He stiffened, not daring to face the door. No. No. He already had trouble trying to communicate with the nurse, but another student wouldn't help in the slightest. He clutched his pants, willing for the other to go away.

((LET HER PROTECT ALL THE CHILDREN--))

"Are you sure? You appear a bit-"

"Is Matrona here, by chance?"

"Motya? No, I'm afraid not. Is there something I can help you with?" Her mess of curls bounced as she shook her head. The Romanian could sense some kind of urgency (if she could even call it that) coming off of Piter- Unusual for a boy of his...nature. Normally she wouldn't pry into his business-he seemed to be the type to who could sort out his situations- but something was a tad off. "Is everything alright?"

Nicoleta's frown then seemed to deepen when she noticed the change in Chong Hwa's body language. "Chong Hwa, sweetie, please. I'd feel more at ease if you were resting.."

((Expect Kiril to barrel in, in 3.....2.....1......))

((Mace, Nico requires assistance HELP))

Ah. Disappointment. Well perhaps if he hung around long enough, she might show up... And he was inclined to stall the inevitable, anyways.

A slightly theatrical sigh, "I came to see if you might be kind enough to send for an ambulance...or a casket, perhaps. I expect I'll be needing one, soon. You see, Mr. Simeonov has ordered me to attend the wrestling club and, no doubt, have my spine broken in several places." He wrinkled his nose in distaste and waved, like he was making an off-hand remark, "It it meant to be punishment, or something along those lines. I gather that he is upset that I did not get killed in soccer, instead--as if I am fit to participate in such a sport, anyways."

Coughing slightly, he glanced at the other boy in the room, who looked exceedingly nervous. While he normally found people squirming to be highly amusing, he narrowed an eyebrow slightly, "...You are in the same gym class as I am, are you not?" Was he skipping? Probably for similar reasons--excellent. If someone else was in here to escape the Bulgarian teacher's wrath, then it would only back up Piter's own accusations.

He shook his head. "I... I will be fine, Ms. Ionescu. Sitting is better, I think."

He gritted his teeth. The other student did not indicate he would be leaving anytime soon. He even continued to talk to the nurse. This was not good.

"...You are in the same gym class as I am, are you not?"

He gripped his pants harder, his eyes darting to the nurse to the boy to the floor. He knew he tried to stay invisible in most of his classes. He did not even bother to talk to them. Was it that easy to figure out? Or did he have a good memory for faces?

In lieu of verbally answering the question, he only nodded. Even if he lied, it probably would not make any difference. And things could not get any more worse. Right?

The Russian seemed to know her weakness; She was a complete sap for these sorts of stories of helplessness. They only fueled her desire to help these kids more. Her brows furrowed. "Nobody is going to have their spine broken and we certainly don't need an ambulance! I'll go have a talk with Mr. Simeonov right now, he should know better than to-"

The woman nearly knocked over the newest student to dwell in her office as she turned to leave. Her mouth fell slightly agape staring at the injury. She had never seen a digit bend quite like that before.

"You...think??? How did you...? Where did you...?!" She quickly made note of the gym uniform Jiao sported.

'Of course.'

It took her a few seconds to get over the initial shock before hurrying to the cabinets, quickly forgetting about her previous mission. Splint, bandages, an ice pack from the small freezer-- Nicoleta didn't think she was properly trained to deal with a dislocation that severe but did the girl know that? No, thank God.

She looked to see that the student was talking with Chong Hwa and suddenly thought it would be the perfect time to fix her up. At least then her screams would be more out of surprise than pain (it seemed more logical in her head). The Romanian gently took her hand while she was distracted and, in a swift motion, forced the finger back in place with a loud pop.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" She immediately got to work taping the splint as apologies spilled from her lips. Nicoleta felt awful and was pretty sure what she had done was completely unprofessional but she couldn't get fired fixing what Kiril broke, right?

"You need to keep ice on this, alright?"

((I'm just going to assume Jiao's finger is dislocated because I don't think broken fingers bend back like that- STILL I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO TREAT EITHER FFFFF))

"Relax, it no big dea-"

It was no big deal, until Nicoleta promptly snapped the finger back into place with a loud pop. Jiao belted out a horrified shriek, the pain suddenly rearing it's ugly head. Perhaps she was too distracted to notice it before and just thought her injury looked funny?

Suddenly, gym didn't seem so fun.

"O-okay..." She shuttered, holding the ice on her injured finger.

((JUST WANTED TO ADD IN A LITTLE QUICKY. Also I have no idea how FINGER INJURIES/BROKEN BONES WORK since I've never dealt with either oops.))

Excellent--if he were the type to do so, he might have rubbed his hands together and chuckled evilly. As it was, he simply faked a grateful smile (though he wasn't the best at imitation; his attempts at nice expressions typically came off as having the same level of staleness as the average piece of hardtack) and replied softly, "That would be lovely, thank you."

It didn't necessarily guarantee that he'd be in the clear (if anything, it might cause him more hell in the future), but at least he'd gotten someone onto his side. And if he maintained her as an ally, he could potentially count on her in the future, as well. Maybe if he sold his sob story to someone higher-up, too, he could even get Simeonov fired. That could certainly make for a delicious slice of payback pie...

As he mused over the possibility of liberating the entire student body from the clutches of the psychotic gym teacher, he eyeballed the Asian boy, who was looking more uncomfortable by the second. The fact that he was being scrutinized by a veritable automaton probably didn't help much. Compounded onto that, another Asian, this time female, burst in with a bad case of hitchhiker's finger. Fascinating. Piter watched with a mildly bemused air as she hollered loudly in pain at her bone being popped back into place with a sickening snap.


((Ha, I don't do dialogue--/SHOT))

If only he could escape. He attempted to ignore the other student's staring, making him twitch in nervious. Class was over and perhaps he should r-

He could only wince as the door slammed open. He only relax slightly when he heard Jiao's voice. Familiar, but made things no better.

"No wonder I no see you in class. How come so sickly all time? Gym class so fun~"

He turned to reply to her but made a sound that a mouse that was stepped on make. This was the reason why he did not want to go to Gym class. It could only end in disaster. His hands gripped his pants so hard he vaguely wondered if they could rip. "It's not my fault I am-"

He nearly jumped out of his skin, hearing her scream in pain. Why wasn't he allowed to finish a sentence or even a thought? Once he got over his initial reaction, he patted her arm in sympathy. "This is the reason why I rather not participate in Gym."

Mr.Simeonov.

Mr.Simeonov was losing his students left, right and centre.

Mr.Simeonov had an inkling of just what crack said students had slipped through.

And Mr.Simeonov was hardly amused.

"Loooooooooooooooverrrrrrrr~ Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuckerrrrrrrrrr~"

The burly man arrived not by door, but at the Rumunjka's window, head obscured behind a large bouquet of flushed roses--from his personal corner of the academy's garden, of course. He ducked his head inside, propping his elbow on the window sill, chin cupped in his hand as the other waved the gift at the woman. "Nikolina, you look all the more stunning surrounded by battered children. A real Saint among women ~"

His gaze fell upon his students, smile flashing the meatgrinder that was his maw. He'd deal with them once he had them rounded up and herded back into the gym. And then they would learn just why he had managed to keep his job all these years despite the...abuse.

Kiril beamed at the nurse. "--Any chance this goddess of a woman will grace me with her presence for dinner?"

((Casually assuming this is on the first floor.))

Arash hastily followed his wrestling coach. Football had exhausted him. Though his legs were weak, that was fine. He was used to working on weak legs. But now his breath had become short and harsh. His chest burnt, and he tried and tried to swallow air that would not go in. Following his teacher, he tried to hold in breath and breath to hide the irregularity in breathing. However he only ended up seeming more and more irregular. The young Iranian was an odd kid in his way of seeming so drastically peculiar when he attempted to seem regular.

The Russian's book sat in his hands. Arash eyed the Russian, as he sat for medical treatment. Should he have been so hostile to him? The kid seemed odd. And Arash did not trust him. There was something untrustworthy about the Russians. Especially about this one.

His breathing continued at the uneven pace, but he did not want to make eye contact with the nurse. For she knew - as a good nurse, to offer him an inhaler. And Arash, as a future star wrestler would not offer that. So it became a painful decision between his physical or emotional well-being. Ultimately he went for the emotional, and quickly left the nurse's office, waiting for his coach without having to wait for that frightening nurse.