[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/yd3I9z2.png[/img][/center] The black haired teacher raised an eyebrow at Synth’s response. He cocked his head to the side, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. The inflections in the blonde’s voice, the movements he made and the emphasis on words made it painfully obvious that the older man disliked him. He rattled off his areas of teaching and Alistair simply nodded. He was surprisingly close to his own areas of teaching; combat and Psychology being his forte, so Alistair simply nodded. He had been a teacher a year before Synth had become one, but he had never had an extended conversation with the man. They mostly avoided each other. It was obvious as to why they were so at odds. Juliann started her part of the conversation. The jab at A had seemingly gone over well, but any ground gained in her opinion of him was shattered by the jibe at Synth over his knowledge about his possession and she noticed his staring. He mentally slapped himself and physically punished himself but biting down hard on his tongue. So Juliann taught Exorcism. He may have to sit in on one of those classes. Synth and Juliann had a small discourse about something that must’ve been about something that had occurred the night before. “[colour=firebrick]Oh yes...I shooed you both out of my classroom before didn’t I[/colour]” he laughed gently and pulled out a cigarette, offering the pack to anyone that wanted to take one. He was honestly unsure of their proclivities. He lit the one in his lips and breathed in. Leaving the pack on the couch he moved away from the two and towards a window. So not to be too rude “[colour=firebrick] I teach ethics of magic, combative uses of magic, English and Psychology officially on the books...I apparently unofficially teach chain smoking and alcoholism according to Rollanda and I continue to run the Literature Club as I did in my student years[/colour]” he dragged on his smoke and gave them a smile “[colour=firebrick]You should come along to a poetry night...when did I organize that….[/colour]” he trailed off, attempting to remember what night he would have to be socially acceptable for students "[colour=firebrick] oh...and just call me Alistair...Mr Kuruz makes me feel all stuffy and old like Synth[/colour]" he grinned.