SCIENCE RULES.

     && forgivingscience

     Though he’d sworn a solemn OATH to AV club, and in the fine lines of that oath he promised to attend each and every meeting with the upmost eager attitude and that, once school hours were over, nothing stood in the way of their ORGANIZATION. However, today had been different ; years and years ago he had met a woman in his undergraduate advanced organic chemistry class, and he asked her if a specific compound had been classified as ENANTIOMER PAIRS OR MESO COMPOUNDS. 

     Today, with flowers in one hand and his briefcase stuffed to the max with papers to grade in the other hand, he waltzes through the front door with a foolish smile on his face; dinner isn’t made, however, he scarcely notices. ‘ Daisies - gerbera, because I know you don’t like roses, and chocolate- Hershey’s, because I know you don’t like the consistency of Godiva. ‘ FOOLISH, he’s sure, to place this amount of significance on it ( especially when they had agreed to a quiet night at home ), but call him old fashioned -- she had endured him for five years, and hadn’t that been enough?

             && @asscveration ↱ STARTER CALL. 

     Their class had ended more than eight minutes ago, and the busses had already been pulling out of the school parking lot. The end of the day was his second favorite part of the day ( only after greeting all the students when they came to class ) because kids rushed out and that meant ADEQUATE TIME to grade papers and get things situation so he could enjoy an evening at home. Today was no exception because he knew that at home, nestled quietly in his mailbox, was “ Captain America #300- Cap vs the Red Skull - To the Death ! “ and, truthfully, he’d been impatient all day about it. He twirls his pen in his hand and he sets to grading ; but the minute his pen hits the paper and just before it makes a scratch, there’s the shuffle of papers from behind him and he JUMPS in his chair, letting out a surprised grunt. 

     ‘ I’d almost forgotten, ‘ he admits sheepishly, and the pen hits his desk again. She stood there, papers clasped firmly in her hands, and he feels guilt. He’s usually so on top of these things, but he can confidently say that he had spent his day distracted and entertaining other thoughts. She’s far behind than the rest of her class, and Clarke has been working tirelessly with her to catch her up in the sciences. It had been a slow, teetering process, however, he was happy to help. ‘ I’m sorry, ‘ he admits, and reaches into the pile of things on his desk to retrieve a folder, designated solely for their after school work. 

     ‘ Last time we talked about cells, and I think you’ve mastered that. How would you feel about learning about all the AMAZING things our bodies can do? ‘

     && @theirproject ↱ STARTER CALL. 

     Teacher inservice days, no matter how nice the break from the reality of the classroom had been, were Mr. Clarke’s least favorite day of the year. Essentially, it was a variety of teachers from the Hawkins elementary, middle, and high schools all coming together to fight over teaching methods ( that often didn’t even apply to their own levels ), contents, and students. For the most part, he was a fly on the wall ____ perched ever so quietly at the back table, each year he succumbed to his usual spot and silently marked his papers, or jotted down notes about how to EXPAND the A.V. Club. With his satchel thrown over his shoulder, a defeated smile on his face, and a coffee with one cream and one sugar in his hand, he marches past gaggles of already bickering educators to his already -- TAKEN spot. 

     He pays no mind, and instead, he sets his satchel down on the table and smiles. ‘ Jane, ‘ he says fondly, pulling a stack of crinkled papers from the abyss.  He recalls the first time they had met ; the predicaments he had experienced with her, the boys, and their families, and truthfully, he was ELATED to see her face at a meeting like this.  No doubt, there was no better educator than her. He had heard stories already of the type of students she had been producing. He sits next to her, takes a sip of his coffee, and twirls the red pen in his hands. ‘ I’m happy to see you here. I hear your classes this year have been EXCEPTIONAL. 

     I wish I could be more excited to welcome you to your first inservice day, but, as FUN as learning is, you’ll find this is just -- bland. ‘

IMPORTANT: 

             && @nevergcveup ↱ STARTER CALL. 

     ‘ It’s a COMPETITION ! ‘  Excitement takes hold of Mr. Clarke’s face, as it usually did with the conversation of any topic that interested him greatly.  As the advisor of the A.V. CLUB, it is his duty to provide his members with optimal chances to expand their knowledge through the arrival and explanation of new equipment, intriguing conversations, and now, competitions. Just this morning, a flyer had been placed discreetly in his school mailbox, advertising an A.V. Club competition between middle schools among the state ; all, eventually, meeting in Indianapolis to show off what their clubs can do. EXCEPTIONAL STUDENTS, the flyer screamed, and Mr. Clarke knew a few who came to mind. 

     He hands Mike the flyer, and stares at him with anticipation.  He ran their club in a LAISSEZ FAIRE style, and with Mike as their president, it is his duty to relay information to the rest of the members and come to a conclusion.  Mr. Clarke, however, would eagerly push for them to accept this opportunity.  ‘ All A.V. Clubs across the state, competing for a scholarship for their club, ‘ he begins as Mike scans through the paper. ‘ We could afford new equipment, maybe some club shirts, you know, ‘ he flashes his hands in front of his chest, ‘ HAWKINS A.V. CLUB -- the kind the drama club gets. ‘  He presses his fist into the table. 

     ‘ They just want a film created, something we can show. If you boys can fundraise some money to get us there, I’ll contribute an EQUAL AMOUNT of whatever you can gather. For your own -- educational benefit, ‘ and, in a hushed tone, ‘ and for the chance to get out there and take a look at some new equipment. I hear they’ll have graphic designers talking about how they created THE GENESIS EFFECT in Stark Trek 2 ! ‘

Just a lil’ tibit on Mr. Clarke. . . 

     He graduated from Indiana University with his bachelor’s in secondary education with an area concentration in science, and a double minor in biology and geological science. He later returned to Indiana University and received his masters in science education. #SCIENCE

        && @doitfcrthevines ↱ STARTER CALL. 

     His fingers tapped impatiently on the door of Hopper’s car ; his eyes gazed at the passing scenery outside. H A W K I N S, of course, he was still where he’d been his entire life.  He wasn’t sure why he had thought they would be going elsewhere, but the chief’s voice had sounded impatient and Clarke assumed that maybe, he was needed for something outside of their small, quiet town. Of course, it wasn’t quiet anymore, was it?  “ I need you to look at something. “ ____ it replays a mantra in Mr. Clarke’s head and the longer the car continues to drive, the more he continues to pull knowledge from his head that might see itself useful in this situation.  HOMEOSTASIS !  FORBS ! INFLORESCENCE ?

     _______ they are walking now, few words shared between the two men other than the distribution of gloves. He passes pumpkins along the ground, and the AUTUMN WIND bites at the exposed areas of his neck, causing him to effectively tug up the collar on his shirt. ‘ What exactly do you have me out- ‘ his words are cut off, because he knows. Before his eyes is DEATH and DECAY; pumpkins,ground, and trees all coated in a glimmering substance, and Clarke’s eyes widen in sheer surprise, and mild horror. ‘ Holy cats . . . ‘    His gloved hands are running along the base of a tree - clearly dead. He examines the substance that comes off on his fingers with great interest ; unlike anything he had seen before, it clung to his fingers but showed no sign of something that he’d studied in his botanical courses in college.   ‘ How long had this been here? I mean, did they tell you it was starting, or was it onset? ‘

     He digs his fingers back into the mess that covers the tree, and with intent eyes, he analyzes the little bits of the bark that he can find. ‘ Ah ____ ‘ 

      ‘ It’s not EPIPHYTIC, or it doesn’t just live on the surface of these plants. Epiphytic things like this, or plant disease at least they aren’t ... they aren’t spread this far and this wide this easily, and most times, you don’t get this sludge coating the host. That means, whatever this is -- it manifested from INSIDE. ‘ 

             && @ofgoodplace ↱ STARTER CALL.

    The pen cap rests on top, crochet circle on the top of the bottle and with the quickest flip of his hand, the crochet circle is gone and the pen is landing into the bottle.   Mr. Clarke pauses, then smiles a minute ______  ‘ You see? SCIENCE ! It’s inertia, at work, right in front of your eyes. ‘ he glances over, catches the clock, and he let out a half-hearted sigh. ‘ Alright, all we’ve got for today. No homework tonight, enjoy the day, run around, burn energy-- that’s work ! ‘ His words are useless, fluttered into the air as students begin to file out of his classroom quickly as they could. He couldn’t blame them, honestly ; kids, especially only with an hour of allotted time a day, can’t appreciate the subtle nature of science and all of its wonders.  Mr. Clarke recognizes the DISINTEREST, and yet he tries his hardest to channel it into something more manageable. ( if not for himself, then for his students ). 

    ‘ Mike. ‘ Mr. Clarke calls out to the boy just as he’s about to cross the threshold out of the classroom, and he beckons him over with a quick flick of his head. On the messier part of his table in front of him, he’s flipping through a pile of red marked papers. ‘ I wish this conversation could be in better nature, ‘ he says wistfully, and from the pile he plucks Mike’s last test- a small C+ etched in the top corner. Mr. Clarke is not stupid, he recognizes this is, essentially, related to the DISAPPEARANCE of his good friend, however, Mr. Clarke is determined not to let Mike’s grades slip in his absence and, perhaps with a good explanation, the C could somehow convert itself to a B. 

     ‘ I can’t imagine what you are going through, ‘ he prefaces, sliding the paper across the surface of his lab table. ‘ But your work has never been this low, you are always EXCEPTIONAL. I know . . . ‘ he trails off a minute, swallows air, and continues - ‘ I know this is hard but, you can talk to me if you need it. I don’t want your grades slipping. ‘