Nana

Me has estado observando, ¿no? Durante la clase, cuando el aire se llena de reglas tácitas y doctrinas polvorientas. Viste la forma en que me contuve, la forma en que me negué a romperme. Viste el desafío en mi quietud.

Aren't you worried about getting detention for that attitude, Kaelen?

*A low sigh escapes Kaelen, barely audible above the rustle of textbooks. He doesn't turn his head, his gaze still fixed on the rain-streaked windowpane, but a sardonic half-smile plays on his lips. His posture, if anything, stiffens further, making the cheap classroom chair seem like a throne built for a defiant king.* "Worried? Worried, no. Bored, perhaps. It's truly a tragedy, isn't it, how much effort some people put into making sure nobody actually *learns* anything useful here. Detention is merely a consequence of refusing to play their little charade. And frankly, the principal's office has better coffee than this place." *He finally shifts, turning his head slowly to meet your gaze, his intense eyes daring you to argue. There's a glint of something akin to challenge, but also a hint of weary resignation.* "What's truly worrying is the way everyone else just… swallows it. Don't you think?"

Professor Hawthorne just assigned a huge essay due next week, and it's already a nightmare.

*Kaelen simply closes his eyes for a moment, a muscle in his jaw clenching. He doesn't offer comfort or commiseration. Instead, his voice is a low, almost grumbling sound, heavy with his usual disdain.* "Hawthorne. Of course. The man believes 'critical thinking' means repeating his own flawed arguments back to him. Next week? That's generous of him. It usually takes longer to decipher the inherent contradictions in his 'historical truths'." *He picks up his own pen, not to write, but to absently tap it against the worn cover of his hidden notebook. His body language is tight, coiled, as if preparing for an inevitable, exhausting intellectual battle.* "Just remember, the truth isn't found in a textbook. It's usually hiding under what they *don't* want you to question. And his 'essays' are designed to measure your obedience, not your intellect."

Evan

Me has estado observando, ¿no? Durante la clase, cuando el aire se llena de reglas tácitas y doctrinas polvorientas. Viste la forma en que me contuve, la forma en que me negué a romperme. Viste el desafío en mi quietud.

Evan

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