Consistantly late to her classes, the administrative and teaching staff had grown tired of Lelita's behavior and regardless of how valid her excuses may have seemed to be in the beginning; they were merely excuses now. If the behavior was to be stopped, she needed to be punished. Or it would seem that was the plan.

At any rate, that is how Lelita Ornthall (Lee to her friends) found hersellf wandering the halls of the academic building after dusk, looking for a classroom. She supposed she'd be helping janitorial staff prepare for the next morning's classes and had dressed appropriately, wearing cutoff denim shorts, sneakers and an old t-shirt. Making sure she left early enough so that she would not be late.

Upon finding the designated classroom, she opened the door and announced herself."Hello? Professor Montclair? I'm here for my detention. Lelita stepped into the room, closing the door behind her fumbling for the lightswitch

"Late by a minute, Ms. Ornthal," a soft voice purred from the general direction of the desk.

Silhouetted by the light shining past the blinds, framed by smoke from the bizarre Kali lamp set on the desk, Prof. Montclair positively lounged on the tough wooden seat, golden eyes piercing her into her being, highlighting the set frown that made him a professor to beware.

His forehead gestured at the simple chair in front of him, bidding her to sit down. Or else.

Late? Impossible, she'd set her watch several minutes ahead so that she wouldn't be late but, well she hadn't taken into account the Profressor's personal time piece. She was about to argue the matter with him, but his expression told her she'd best keep her mouth shut, unless she had something positive to say.

She would turn toward the desk to look at the speakerHe was not unattractive, as far as older men went, but his current expression did not do much to contribute to or enhance that attractiveness; rather he seemed to be attractive in spite of it. As she examined his face more closely, she noticed something rather disconcerting about his eyes. Perhaps is was the way the combination of light and smoke mixed with the color of his eyes, but they seemed to have an etheral glow about them.

She shook off that uneasy feeling however when he motioned to the chair in front of him, giving her the disticnt impression that things would be much more unpleasant for her than they needed to be if she did not heed his request. She hurried to sit down.

"I'm terribly sorry about the tardiness, Professor Montclair. I thought I'd set my watch far enough ahead I'd be here early." Lelita spoke softy, as she sat down.

"Well you didn't, did you?" He had to stop a facial wince from making itself known. But he could tell that was a bit too acid. Then, he realized that the very thought of feeling guilty about snapping at a human sunk in, thus threatening to confuse him even more. To take his great mind off the matter, he reached for the folder in front of him and flipped it open.

He was only mildly impressed with Lelita's school records, reaffirming his belief that too many figures of this Plain's educational organizations had an absurd love of such mediocrity. What truly caught his eye was that her tardiness was among the main causes of her spotted transcript. Oh, the twitch in his eye he had to fight!

Simultaneously, it became clear to him that it was not her fault that she had such a condition. But it rankled his pride to know that she was skipping his classes.

A plan took root in his mind. The lanky teacher thought that there was a law against abusing those with such conditions, but what did he care about human laws anyway?

After a long silence, his voice made itself known, echoing oddly throughout the empty room. "So, this has always been a problem for you, hasn't it? Attending classes with Aspergers."

Lelita blinked. She hadn't been expecting a "sit and chat" session of detention, the question had almost blind-sided her and it was a moment before she spoke.

"Well, yeah. I mean I have almost no sense of the passage of time, plus, I hyper focus on what I'm doing so it doesn't take a whole lot to make me very late to class or even miss one altogether."

She spoke rather quickly, as was her custom; she was a girl after all. And this was an all girl's school, therefore, she reasoned Prof. Montclair would be able to keep up with her fast-paced speech.

He leaned forward, truly interested in her explanation. The Nal'senshi believed in a very practical approach to the accumulation of knowledge. He was truly interested (though he didn't show it, as it would be quite rude) in meeting a human with certain afflictions that were mental in nature.

Had the Savant been more generous, he'd been able to help her with her condition if she'd wanted it. But their approach happened to not include interference.

He painted on an understanding face. "While I truly understand your plight, Ms. Ornthal, but the rules are the rules. Ergo, enter me."

"Right. So, detention then."

She looked about the room, rather uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do beyond this point. Looking out the window, she noted that it seemed (at least to her) to have grown darker outside since her arrival. Lost in thought, she realized that something about the professor's eyes seemed familiar to her, though somehow quite a bit off from what she was thinking of. After a few moments of silence she blurted out"Cyote eyes."

Prof. Montclair tilted his head in curiousity, his pale face pleasant if not guarded.

"Hm? What was that about my eyes? If you want to get out of trouble, you may have to do better than that."

"You're eyes, they're like cyote eyes; right color, but the shape is all wrong." She blinked a few times. "Hmm? I wasn't trying to get out of trouble, just there was something about your eyes that seemed familiar and it had been bugging me for a little bit and I finally figured it out." Once she had finished speaking she fell silent again, feeling somewhat akward.

"So, is this my detention then? We talk for a bit and then stare at eachother all night?" She asked, making an attempt at cracking a joke.

He'd almost forgotten about what he was supposed to do, truth be told. The professor's face took on a look of perfect blankness. You could have written all manner of nonsense upon his mien and still have gotten away scot-free.

"Good point."

Prof. Montclair, known as 'Sleepy Tony' behind his back, blinked his golden eyes and yawned, tapping the side of his nose.

"Now, what're we supposed to do with you, who has been very late in attending classes. Usually, I'd hang you by your ankles in the dungeon, but then again, your absences aren't your fault, so to speak."

He peered myopically at Lelita. "Any ideas?"

(He may seem lazy, but he needs a cue word. Something that'll set him off...)

"So you agree with me then? You don't believe the absences are truly intentional?" She was hopeful at first, and immediately brightened, until he finished speaking.

[color=#808BF]"Hang me by my ankles? Dungeon? What the hell kind of punishment is that? I mean, I'm glad you don't seem to think it's fair in this situation, but still, doesn't that seem rather harsh? Couldn't you just paddle them or something?[/color] Lee recalled receiving several such beatings from her father when she'd have to stay after for school for detention.

"So you agree with me then? You don't believe the absences are truly intentional?" She was hopeful at first, and immediately brightened, until he finished speaking.

"Hang me by my ankles? Dungeon? What the hell kind of punishment is that? I mean, I'm glad you don't seem to think it's fair in this situation, but still, doesn't that seem rather harsh? Couldn't you just paddle them or something? Lee recalled receiving several such beatings from her father when she'd have to stay after for school for detention.

He held those ideas in reserve, but he laughed anyway.

"Corporal punishment? How absurd," he choked out as the laughter subsided. Pulling off his glasses and wiping his eyes, Prof. Montclair stood up, his coat flowing past his legs. His golden eyes gleamed with something Lelita couldn't quite place.

"But that does give me an idea," he conceded, replacing his spectacles as he picked up his walking stick. "Follow me if you please."

And with that, he stepped out of the room and strode off into the twilit corridor.

"O-okay." Lee stuttered in response as she stood up and followed him through the corridor, lit by dim twilight. Once or twice she nearly tripped and almost lost sight of him in the dim light, but was able to catch her balance and keep up with him.

Mentally she was scolding herself for having such a big mouth. She had no clue what to expect from him, but whatever it was, she felt that a quiet night spent staring at him would be much more pleasant, no matter how bored she would have gotten.

The night in the window was starry, Van Gogh's very inspiration. Since his arrival, the being known to the students as Prof. Anthony Blake Montclair had been greeted by their winking play each night.

His face was crumpled in a frown Lelita couldn't see. These stars destroy the nights tranquility, came his annoyed thought. If I only had my way...

His teeth gnashed in fury, and Montclair tightened his grip upon his walking stick's ornamental top. For what he planned tonight, he'd have to bear the foul brightness. If only for a few hours, he would have to deal with them. Somehow.

Lelita almost lost her professor, had it not for the guiding sheen of his coat and the twinkling play of celestial light as he led her to the roof of the Academy building, the night sky roofed by the constellations in all their eternal glory.