A new year in Russian (hell) One (OPEN)

Ivan gave a little chirp as he entered the now-familiar school building -- gently waving at students and fellow teachers, all groggy and bleary eyed from the summer holiday. Ah, well, atleast Ivan was one thing -- a morning person, a rather chipper one at that. Ivan balanced a mug of tea and papers as he unlocked the door to his classroom.

"Yes yes, i bet you were all thrilled to wait out here until i arrived -- welcome to Russian 1, children!" Ivan said in a sing-song voice, swinging the door open and letting it hit the wall as he walked into the room, flipping on lights and taking his place at his desk while students filed it.

Oh it was a batch this year -- as they talked and giggled amongst themselves Ivan could hear gossip, who was dating who, and who dumped who (amongst other, less unseemly topics) all within earshot. Not that he really cared -- he just hoped that he didn't have any idiotic stragglers this year to interrupt his class.

Morning was a nice time of day if Alfred did say so himself. The sun came up, everything was brighter and warmer than in the night. Yes, morning was nice. Too bad that morning began at 10 o'clock for him; anything earlier was still dawn. And dawn wasn't something he could stand. It was cold, it was too early, and it meant school five times a week.

So, there he was, running towards school, trying not to be late from his first Russian 1 class. Why did he decide to take Russian in his last year again? Oh, right, because his Dad wouldn't let him take Spanish.' There's no use in studying a language you're already all but fluent in.' That would have been the point! He could have had an easy class! Damn his old man. And it was either Russian or Creative Writing. And there was only one problem with Creative Writing; the writing part. He liked drawing much better than having to describe a simple scene in 10 sentences. So yeah, Russian 1 was his only choice.

And he was already late by five minutes. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up until three playing video games. He sped up as a last effort not to be hopelessly late and burst through the door of his classroom, almost falling flat on his face but righting himself at the last moment. He threw a glance at the clock. 6 minutes late. Damn, he was good.

Alfred smiled at the teacher sheepishly. "Mornin', sir! Sorry for being late!"

Ivan was already going through his routine -- welcoming the class and shushing up the nosy hoodlums in the back. Atleast this time they quieted down with the promise of one detention instead of three, even if Ivan did hear some mumbling that he graciously choose to ignore. He wrote his name on the chalk board, in both English, and Cyrillic -- and proceeded to have the class repeat his name.

It was odd, how many people messed up such a simple last name, it wasn't like it was Swedish*, nor was it long. Perhaps it was the Cyrillic messing them up, or they assumed it would be pronounced like Berrganski. Or something. Teenager's minds could be a bit funny like th---

Ah, the straggler. Bursting into his room right as he was getting to class rules. Well atleast he wouldn't have to repeat himself later, right? Right. With a grunt, Ivan gathered up the first day's set of paper work (the usual stuff; rules, punishments, standards, and supplies) and fisted it at his student.

"Why good morning -- I see you decided to crash my class with style, whoever you are. Feel free to take a seat wherever, just do not be late again!" Ivan said, deciding to be kinder this morning -- after all, only one or two people were late to class today.



((*the Swedish have unimaginably hard to pronounce name for an english speaker. i should know, i have one XD;; ))

Alfred laughed. "I always do things with style~! And I'm Alfred F. Jones, Mr..." Errr, okay, his teacher was a real, living-breathing Russian he guessed, because that name was sure as hell wasn't an English one. "Berrganski?" Now that he thought about it, it was probably not pronounced like that. Russians didn't pronounce stuff the same way Americans did, right?

...Maybe he should take a seat before pondering the differences between Russians and Western people. As much as he loved being the center of attention, his classmates were going to think he was weird if he stood around here much longer. "Oh, right, sure, thank you."

He plopped down in a seat next to a random typical giggly type of girl in the back of the room. He didn't want to sit in the front; that would make daydreaming a bit harder. He wondered why he didn't get detention though. He knew he was charming and heroic and all but he was late. British teachers didn't really like students being late. Oh well, this teacher was obviously not British, so he might be a bit more lax. Maybe Russian 1 wouldn't be all that bad.

A sigh, but again Ivan let it slide, "Just sit down, please, Mr. Jones."

He was new after all, and American. You had to take it slow with Americans. With a soft shove the door was slammed shut with a deafening bang, and the class's attention was drawn away from the late arrival to Ivan. He wrote another short line on the board -- his full name, and his sister's name.

Katyusha Ivanovna Braginskya

Ivan Ivanovich Braginski

"Now that most of us are here, lets get rolling -- can anyone tell me the difference in these two names?" Ivan asked the class, gouging for any prior knowledge of Russian naming conventions. The more they knew, the better. It'd end with less 'F's' at the end of the quarter, atleast.

(( Can I break in here?))
Michelle took a deep breath. It's now or never. It was the first day she had to go to school since the move. She was lucky her god-father got the school board to give her this much time to "addapt" before school time. For the past who-knows-how-many minutes Michelle has been wandering around the school aimlessly. She had been to this wing almost 3 times and she just gave up. Michelle figured that she could just walk into a random classroom and the teacher could take pitty on her and give her directions or let her sit out the class because her… Michelle looked at her course guide… Her Russian teacher was most likely going to kill her. Michelle adjusted her outfit and took one last deep breath before knocking and then opening the door.
"Hello? I'm new and lost. Can ya help me?" she says, hoping the teacher wont rip her head off for entering his or her room without asking.

Ivan grit his teeth and turned toward the door. Another straggler, even twenty minutes after the bell! That was a feat unheard of, for him. Maybe it was just the stress of being a new teacher, but Ivan just hated tardies, even on the first day. The Jones boy he could let slide -- he had only gotten to his room a few minutes late -- scratch that, fifth-teen, but his watch. The girl, however, was now interrupting his class, and gave some of the rather confused looking children time to either text or look up the answer on their phones.

"Yes, yes, what class are you in, dear?" Ivan said, obviously miffed about being interrupted for the second time in a row, but although waving her in and trying to give her a warm smile.

Katyusha Ivanovna Braginskya

Ivan Ivanovich Braginski

How was he supposed to know? How was anyone supposed to know? They were in Russian 1 because they had never learned Russian before, weren't they? It was a stupid question to a-

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even comprehend what was going on. "The first one is a female name, the second one is a male name. Both of their fathers were called Ivan and the second one is probably your name, so the other one must be your sister's name if you have one." What the heck? Alfred wondered if he looked as surprised as he felt. How did he even know that?

His shocked staring was interrupted by a short girl appearing in the door. She was lost? He could sympathize; he got lost the first time he got here too. He ended up in a Chemistry class instead of his English Lit. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly heart-broken when he found the right classroom four minutes before the bell rang.

...Wait a moment, he knew that girl! It was Michelle, the girl he met in the park! He raised his arm and started waving at the brunette, trying to catch her attention.

Oh, she was going to be killed. "Désolé, I'm supposed to be in Russian 1 with Ivan…" She looked down at her schedule. Michelle wasn't even going to try to pronounce the name on her course guide. It was the most russian name she's seen in her life! "I'm supposed to be in Russian 1. I'm new to the school and have no idea where it is or where I am." She flashed the teacher a big smile. 'Please have it be close to here!' she prayed.

Suddenly something caught her eye from the back of the class. Some guy was waving wildly at her… wait...It was Alfred, her new friend Michelle met in the park. She waved back to him and smiled. 'if only this was the class I'm scheduled to be in' she thought.

"Very good, Mr. Jones, five points extra credit," Ivan said, a bit miffed that he had said it so matter-of-factly. Most people assumed it was his wife, not his sister's name. Atleast he didn't look at his phone, from what Ivan saw.

Ivan sighed, and waved the new girl into the classroom, and shutting the door behind her. "You're in it -- and i expect you to refer to me as Mr. Braginski, young lady. Take a seat next to the student that is apparently having a seizure in the back of the class. Now. And put your hand down, Jones, you look like a shivering monkey who got a hold of sugar rocks or something."

Getting back to work again, Ivan wrote some trivia on the board:

What Russian city has been renamed three times within the past century?

...Extra credit? Whoa, he never got extra credit except for in Physics class. The fact that he was right was even more shocking, although something told Alfred he shouldn't be so shocked. God, this was starting to give him a headache.

He glared at the teacher, his lower lip sticking out a bit more than his upper one, forming an expression that was definitely not a pout. He put his hand down and mumbled something about being much more handsome than a monkey.

When Mr. Braginski turned his back to the class to write something on the board, Alfred couldn't resist sticking his tongue out at his back. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, appearing satisfied with his method of pay-back. Now that the teacher was suitably punished for being so mean, the American beamed at Michelle, happy that he had a friend in his class. He wondered who was having a seizure in the back of the class though; he didn't want that guy hitting Michelle or anything. He looked around and saw no one with a seizure. 'Weird. It must have ended already.'

Alfred tilted his head to the side, peeking at what his teacher had written on the board. What Russian city has been renamed three times within the past century?

"It was Saint Petersburg, wasn't it?" he said that half-loudly, more like wondering to himself than answering the question. He was pretty sure he saw it on 'Who wants to be a millionaire?' about ten days ago.

Michelle blushed with embarrassment and laughed nervously. It was the first day and she thought she had already gotten on the teachers bad side. She made her way to the back of the class. Michelle was glad that she finally found her classroom but she wish she had found it earlier. She hoped that Russian was similar to French. Her eyes wandered to the board at the front of the class… No, nothing a like. Not even close.

Hastened by the awkwardness, Michelle sat next to Alfred and got situated. She smiled back at Alfred. Thank cod she knew someone in this class. Alfred could help her learn this stuff besause she had no clue what these symobls ment and probably never will. Mr. Braginski went up to the board and wrote something. 'What Russian city has been renamed three times within the past century?' No answer came to mind. Michelle didn't know a thing about Russian history so she had no clue. She picked at her brain and gave up before she herd Alfred answer.

Another sigh, and Ivan had to grumble to himself /not/ to say anything snippy about how, for looking so dumb, this boy was rather bright. Or a good cheater. "Correct, Mr. Jones. Now, another one," Ivan said, erasing the board completely (sans his name) and writing down another question, what language is Russian closely related to? What intellectual empire influenced Russian court language and culture?

There, that'd give them a run for their money. He hoped. For a moment he sat down at his desk, preparing the last of the papers for the class -- Russian names. Hey, it was always great fun, right? It'd give them something to do for the next ten minutes or so. Plus it was always fun to hear how they butchered the names with mispronunciations. Or painful, but mostly fun.

"Anyone, anyone?" Ivan asked, tut tutting and looking pleased that this seemed to stump his class.

One, the teacher had good hearing. Two, this was starting to get really weird. He had never been all that interested in Russian history and he had never bothered remembering anything about it.

He looked at the questions on the board and was relieved when he realized he didn't know the answer to the second one. Oh thank Einstein, he wasn't turning into a nerd after all. Still, he answered the first question. Three correct answers for a year seemed like a good enough percentage. "Ukrainian." That tidbit of information was from random Wikipedia surfing.

After that, he lost any and all interest in the class. His weird and random bursts of knowledge were seemingly over, so he decided to give his attention to more interesting things. Like talking with his friend. He turned his head to smile at the brunette sitting next to him. "Hey, haven't seen you since we met in the park. 'Sup?"

"Oh cod… I'm going to fail this class." the girl said under her breath. She knew none of this information. She was quite surprised when Alfred answered the question. Michelle tilted her head to the side in confusion. He would make a fortune in Jeopardy, so why is he here as just a student?

"Oh…" she turned to him "I'm fine… H-how are you?" Michelle was still a little shaken but the day in the park but she was better. It's weird discovering something strange about your neighbor but you get over it. The island girl was a little superstitious, but this was a new age. She should leave these thing back in the story book.