"I would end the world in an instant so that beauty never fades."

Professor of Engineering and Supervisor of Student Govn't. Office is located in the Mathematics building, hours are TR 2:30 PM to 5 PM.

+ Midnight Coffee [Closed @ Sycamore]


Was he busy? He was calling this late— he was calling at all— for a simple are you busy? In all truth, Augustine had been building himself up for something a little more dramatic, something he wouldn’t have wanted to hear, something… That wasn’t so simple. Lysandre was continuously an oddity for him to marvel at, and it took several moments of doing just that before he realized he probably ought to give some response.

"Ah, no. No, I’m not busy. Why?" Despite how odd the situation certainly was, he couldn’t have denied the genuine curiosity behind the short question; Lysandre was a, for lack of a better term, clusterfuck of intricate mysteries (and also, technically, a terrorist, which was likely what was making speaking to him right now so hard) that Augustine did not understand in the slightest, and he was not about to delude himself into thinking otherwise again. It didn’t really matter. There were more important matters at hand.

"…Actually, as it happens, I’ve been thinking some, and…" That didn’t matter, either, trailing off to bite his lip. "No, nevermind. Is there something you needed?"

He asked what Lysandre needed but the answer to that wasn’t going to be simple nor short. In fact, he wouldn’t even say it through the phone, because he felt it better to be explained in person—whatever it was he wanted to explain. He was still forming the words in his mind after all.

"I need to see you. Right now, in fact," after saying that with such resolve, he had to take another hit of his smoke to assure himself that what he was saying was right. He had thought of this moment several times over but now was when he was finally doing it and if a smoke helped his nerves then by God he was going to hit it once more.

"Could you come down to my cafe as soon as possible? I’ll be waiting." He didn’t let the professor give an answer, either because he possibly feared a rejection or even a yes more, he wasn’t sure. But he threw his cigarette over the balcony, grabbed his coat, and began to head out.

posted 9 months agovia©reblog

+ Midnight Coffee [Closed @ Sycamore]


There’s a reason that Professor Augustine Sycamore (a completely legitimate and qualified professional, mind you, though there were surely those who doubted it) had yet to finish grading all the papers that were to be handed back the next day. Surely there was a good one; he couldn’t think of the proper excuse for it at the time, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would come up with one before anyone could ask. One a lot better than “I didn’t really want to do it so I spent the weekend going out”, which was certainly not the truth. Absolutely not.

The sound of “HEEERE HE IS, THE BIGGEST DOUCHE IN THE UUUNIVERSE” tore him away from the work that wasn’t being done in the first place, halfway lunging across the room from the couch to snatch up his phone, half worried someone would hear it despite the complete lack of other people around. There was only person it could possibly be, though he couldn’t remember ever setting that kind of ringtone; people did strange things when they were very angry and possibly very drunk (he didn’t know why he hadn’t deleted the contact altogether either, or if he did, it was for reasons he did not care to analyze).

For the briefest half a second the man almost considered not answering; what was he supposed to say? What was there he could say? He couldn’t properly remember the last time Lysandre had called, but that alone told him that it had been a very long time, while things were very different. There was no reason for Lysandre to be calling him, let alone this late at night.

…But it would have been rude not to answer, and as the initial shock faded, the phone was flipped open with only a small note of further hesitance. 


It’s not really a question or a statement; some kind of odd mix in between, tone kept carefully measured to just the verge of obviously guarded.

"Yes? What is it?"

Well crap, Lysandre didn’t actually think he’d answer, let alone keep his number. Cigarette still in hand, he took another hit and exhaled to relax the nerves he honestly felt surprised to have.

"Are you busy right now?" was all he could manage to say without losing his voice to be honest. He figured it was because they hadn’t really spoken in so long, what exactly could he say to Sycamore over the phone that’d sound feasible? Might as well get straight to the point.

And another hit just to be safe.

posted 9 months agovia©reblog

+ Midnight Coffee [Closed @ Sycamore]

It was very common for Lysandre to get little to no sleep. Often times he’d just lie awake in bed or smoke out in his balcony, trying to bore himself enough to actually sleep. Tonight though, was familiar to him as other nights—thoughts were getting to him, making him restless and unsure.

He flipped his phone around in his hand, wondering if the phone call, tonight, would actually be worth it.

He dialed the number, tried calling it—

But then hung up immediately after. He released a sigh and had half a mind to throw his phone to the bed to completely ignore it. Normally, this is what he’d do. Normally because he’d ignore that feeling deep inside of wanting to reach out to his former friend.

Perhaps that’s why tonight was a little different.

He dialed the number once more, letting the phone ring.

vivalacollegeeducation replied to your post

The wonders of youth, oui? Good luck with all of that.

Maybe you should do this instead, you’re better with students than I am after all.

Perhaps I should reconsider… supervising Student Government this year. It seems elections are already becoming too much for some students.

+ no time for a nap


Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately, depending on one’s perspective—Caitlin had not been resting long, and her sleep remained light enough still that the voice of another roused her with ease. It took a moment, but she lifted her head from the fold of her arms, expression bleary and half-asleep. A dainty hand languidly rose to cover her mouth in a yawn, and a look of tired disinterest crossed her face as she scrutinized the outlandish man standing before her.


Your table?” The question was soft, punctuated with a yawn, but poignantly irate nonetheless. “Student orientation failed to mention picnic tables on campus being private property; I don’t believe I see a name on it anywhere.”

She looked him up and down, from the absurd red-orange hair to the frankly questionable choice of outfit—it was clear that he was her elder, and evidently domineering enough to take issue with someone resting at a public table. Definitely a professor; hopefully not one of her own.

A small smile, excessively saccharine, crossed her lips, and her brows raised slightly. “As it happens, I was here first, and it’s very rude to wake someone from a nap in such a brusque manner.”

"Hmm, the ‘name’ argument, of course you’d take that route," Lysandre crossed his arms and sat down. He eyed the girl for a brief moment before sighing and taking out a cigarette. He lit it and took one hit before returning his attention to the girl.

"Better than making you guess why a man was looming over your shoulder, isn’t it?" Puff puff. "And it’s not very safe to be sleeping outside—on a picnic table no less—especially when you should probably be in class right now.

"But that’s not really any of my business."

posted 9 months agovia©reblog

+ no time for a nap


It was early in the afternoon, just before the start of the semester, and campus was understandably flocked with new arrivals and returning students rushing to settle themselves before classes began. It made navigating most places an absolute hassle, and everywhere one turned there was a crowd of students and a loud rumble of voices.

These exact characteristics one new student in particular found to be exceptionally annoying—in theory, it shouldn’t take fighting one’s way through a crowd at every turn to get anywhere or accomplish anything, and there was beginning to grow a mild throbbing at the bridge of her nose and the crease of her brow. A headache now would be a problem, and when the first yawn escaped her small pouting mouth on the trek to the student housing facilities, Caitlin knew she was doomed.

The physical strength to carry her own over-packed luggage was decidedly lacking, and with every other imaginable source of stress conveniently present, even hauling her belongings along via telekinesis was becoming a terrible strain. The migraine was getting worse, and despite her best efforts, she could feel her eyelids drooping defiantly. Why had she insisted that she hadn’t needed any help? I can do it myself, she had snapped at the valet who had seen to her arrival in Lumiose; I don’t need to be looked after like a child.

By now it was increasingly clear that she was not going to make it without either a breakdown or a narcoleptic fit, and nineteen years of experience had taught her that the latter was always the lesser of two evils.

Stopping at a nearby picnic table couldn’t hurt. It was quieter in this corner, conveniently placed beneath a tree that provided adequate shade, and yawning all the while, Caitlin set her baggage beneath the table and settled herself, arms crossed and head resting atop them, for a brief rest.

The weather was beautiful outside, that was for sure. What was unfortunate, however, was the influx of students towards every which direction. If they weren’t his students, who was he to care, he just wanted to get where he was going.

While walking through, he passed the same picnic table right before his lecture hall. What was odd about this time was that there was a student already resting on it. Dear Arceus, these children never learn, no work ethic to them at all.

He releases a scoff and heads towards the table. Now it was unfair of this child to take up his only acceptable spot for lunch. Perhaps it was his appearance, but do not be fooled—he enjoyed simple, quiet lunches outside in beautiful weather.

But a girl was in his way.

"Excuse me, this is my table."

posted 9 months agovia©reblog


Eusine and his trusty Haunter race across campus. Their mission: to stick up dozens and dozens of brightly colored purple fliers which all prominently feature a Buneary in a top hat.

The print reads in hideous word art:


Meeting this Thursday, 7 PM in the Geology building!

On his way back to his office, his usual coffee in hand, Lysandre began to notice a more subtle change on certain walls around the campus. At first, just one or two caught his eye for how brightly colored they were. He made a frown, choosing to ignore such a ghastly sight.

But then more came to view. He realized that as he walked, more and more of those posters were appearing and sipping his coffee became absolutely unacceptable. No sane man would enjoy his coffee in the sight of such horror.

He wondered, should he try to take them down? They were too bothersome and inappropriate for him, despite it being some sort of club announcement. Perhaps then instead he should go see the supervisor of this “Alliance of Magicians” to inform them of this terrible crime of a poster littered around campus.

Changing his usual route, he began to walk towards the Geology building—and then he saw him. Such a strange man, in clothing that could very well match the posters, and it all became very clear. He headed towards him and cleared his throat.

"Were these approved by the supervisor of your club? They’re atrocious."

posted 9 months agovia©reblog
Oh, who knows! Don’t ask me. Kids these days and their lingo.

[Blank stare.]

inthemeiofthemoon replied to your post
I-its…It’s an internet joke? I didn’t think a professor would know about memes though…

An internet joke? How ridiculous then.

I think he may be under the impression that you’ve been ‘le memed’ on.

What do you mean by “le memed on”? Tell me right now.