Setting a bad example [Arthur + Gilbert (and maybe Roderich later?) ]

Arthur found the nighttimes here, mindnumbingly boring. He was used to London, where practically everything was open 24 hours, a creature like him could be at home, was welcome. The streets had eveything, shops, places to eat, prey. But what was also glorious was seeing beuatiful peices of arcitecture, completely deserted and lit brightly. It was haunting. This place... was desolate.

The only place he could actually get some fun and life in this place was the pub. But... he tended to sit in the corner with his fake ID, listening to people acting cheerful, and wishing he had someone to talk to. He was glad he looked old for his age, so he never got questioned. Either that or the proprietors didn't mind serving someone underage.

He walked quietly through the passages. He didn't bother being too discrete, he had learned the routes the teachers took now, and there wasn't going the be a teacher here for a while. Unless the had switched around of course, so he was still fully alert, but not sneaking around quite as quietly as he could.

Of course, thenbeing an idiot as normal, he crashed straight in to someone, bashing his nose hard against the chin.

Gilbert let out a frustrated hiss as he wandered through the school's passages. While the other teachers monitored specific parts of the academy, the domestic kobold had the duty of going through everywhere, and the school was in no way small, so the task usually lasted through the night. He sighed. Sometimes he wished he wasn't the way he was, just so he wouldn't have to do chores like this to get some good food and beer.

The usual impulse struck him as he figured out just where he was walking. This passage was pretty close to that bar he used to sneak out a lot to...

No, he inwardly berated himself. The higher-ups would fire him if they learned he was out gallivanting again instead of staying on guard, and Gilbert wouldn't want that. He had started to like his teaching job a lot. Then again... Surely he wouldn't be caught sneaking out if he turned himself invisible And since the other adults in the school were doing their own rounds, they won't be able to catch him in the bar!

Grinning at these discoveries, Gilbert closed his eyes, mouthed a few choice words, and turned into his normal, invisible self. He laughed as he resumed walking with his new destination in mind. Ah, it had been a while since he had gotten a drink of his favorite German beer. He wondered if he had enough money for, say, seven or so bottles.

He stopped once again, and he quickly reverted back to his previous form before digging into his pockets for some cash. He pulled out a few crumpled bills and examined them, then smiling as he deemed the amount enough for his desired quota. The money was stuffed back into one pocket, and Gilbert was about to return to invisibility, but failed and instead winced when someone none too lightly bumped into him.

"Scheiße. You okay?" he asked, steadying them both by gripping the other's shoulders.

Normally, Arthur had rather good reflexes, being a vampire and the like, so he questioned how, now, he was crying out in pain and cluthcing his nose, mutting profanities, having smacked straight in to someone. "Shit do have a hard chin, he muttered, feeling a pair of hands tightly grip his shoulders. Crap, had he ran in to a teacher or something? He was so fucking busted, and this was what... the second time? In not even a term. He nodded, nose throbbing, "Yes... I'm fine, fine," He mumbled in to his hand. At least it wasn't bleeding.

"Uh... I was just going to my dorm," He mumbled, stepping back and glaring as accusingly as he could at the person, "What are [i]you[i/] doing out of bed?" He asked, even though he knew he was a silly question to ask and would probably get him in more trouble. He glanced down, and say notes clenched in the man's (who had shockingly white hair, especially in somewhere as poorly lit as the passage) fist. What was he doing out there?

He peered slightly closer, and he realised it was a music teacher.... German guy, what was his name? Wheel-shmid or something? Or at least, that was what it was phonetically, he had only heard Roderich mention him in a rant or two. He didn't know why he hated the music teacher so much, but Roderich seemed like a fair man, so he assumed it had been something atroscious like... play a note out of key on the piano. He had realised that Roderich was touchy only about music, and very little else.

Gilbert watched in amusement as the stranger he had bumped into began clutching his nose in pain and muttering something that the kobold didn't quite catch. Was his chin that hard? He wondered, a hand coming up to self-consciously touch said body part. He nodded at the answer, and was about to ask what the other man was doing in one of the passages since he was sure he wasn't a teacher, but the other had spoken before he could.

An eyebrow rose in disbelief at the lie, and he let out a snort to emphasize the fact that he wasn't buying it. "Yeah right. Where the hell are you coming from that you have to use this passage?" He then smirked inwardly at the student's (Gilbert supposed he was one since he was being so defensive) question, though physically displayed a frown. "And I was in the middle of my nightly rounds," he lied with an annoyed tone, masking the true nature of the words. He actually was a bit irritated with the way the student was talking to him, but concluded that he probably just wasn't able to recognize his awesomeness in the dim lighting.

Poor kid.

Having gotten used to the semi-dark a while ago, Gilbert took a good look at the other, intent on attaching a name to the face in front of him. The student was slightly shorter than him, with green eyes, blond hair, ...and very prominent eyebrows. Ah, he knew who this was! Gilbert had passed by him a few times at the school (he had always stopped to do a double-take at those eyebrows) though unfortunately, he still didn't know his name.

Then he frowned. The blond obviously wasn't going to the dorms, so why was he here? Realization dawned on him when he remembered why he himself was here, and the frown morphed into a smirk. "You're going to the pub, aren't you," he stated rather than asked.

Arthur pushed himself back in to the darkness, as if he could somehow avoid the teacher by dissapearing in to the shadows. However... He knew that was just idiocy, the teacher had found him and even if he could turn totally invisible, Arthur couldn't avoid his wrath tommorow.

Instead, he increased his defensive stance, “it's a free passage isn't it? No one's told me I can't be here,” He shrugged, forcing nonchalance in to his voice. He folded his arms across his chest. Well, this was certianly different to the last time he had been caught by a teacher, but perhaps better, considering this teacher hadn't jumped on his back yet. He seemed, perhaps not nicer, but less harsh, at the moment. “I came from the library, which is that way.” He pointed down the passage, “It forks in to two a little further up. I was just going to my dorm and got mixed up.” He sniffed arrogantly and turned his nose up slightly.

A snort, “You don't look like you're on your rounds. You'd be more alert then.” He snickered and rubbed his nose subconsciously at the reminder. He tugged at the pocket of the jeans he had instead of the sensible trousers dictated by the school uniform code. But it was outside school hours, so it wasn't as if he could get in trouble for that.

He glanced the teacher up and down, yes, he knew the guy (however young he looked, all them here looked young) was a teacher, but he found trouble with authority, and never seemed to back down, even when it was in his best interest to do so. He realised that it was stupid, and he seemed to have self-destructive tendencies, but he couldn't help but grin cockily and say inflammatory things.

He raised an eyebrow at the smirk, keeping his arms tightly folded, and his lips pressed together. It was stated as fact, so he chose not to confirm. “Hn.” He grunted in a noncommittal fashion, staring at the man. “And you?” He asked, “Unless you normally go on your rounds clutching a tenner.”