Dissection Day (Sidra/Open)

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid walked into the lab with a stern look upon her face and a stack of papers in her arms. Today was dissection day. Today would be a day of sending students to the nurse when the smell got to them and fielding excuses from the squeamish who thought dissection was ‘icky’. A day of unnecessary evil. Not that Ingrid didn’t enjoy the lesson, she actually thought it was very beneficial and highly interesting, but she realized teenagers rarely saw things her way. Some of them were still frightened by the shrieking they’d heard from her room a few weeks ago and were convinced she was a banshee.

As she entered the room, Ingrid signaled for attention from what few students had already came in, quieting them with a sweeping gesture of her arm. “Five minutes till the bell, I suggest you get seated at the tables in front of your fetal pig.” She went to the desk in the front, setting down her papers in a neat stack. “First you should take these papers for instruction and your lab questions. But I’m certain every has already looked over the pre labs I assigned last week and already knows exactly what to do. I‘ll explain further once class starts.” Her tone implied that she very much didn’t expect anyone to be prepared, she was already far to used to students skipping homework for more exciting things. She sighed and looked to the clock, waiting for the rest of her class to show up and the day to just be over already.

[Sidra Cotton]

Sidra sat, as she always did, closest to the wall, furthest from the windows, and as far back in the room as she could get. The corner itself was usually taken by someone not her, a point she resented. Somewhere at the front of the class the old-lady-teacher was talking. She ignored the noise and continued to sketch her latest corset design into her sketch pad. The fetal pig that ws on the lab table had been ignored.

"Sidra," her lab partner hissed as if the teacher couldn't hear her if she said it through clenched teeth and barely moving lips. "We gotta do this."

"Whatever," one word filled with so much insolence, Sidra shot her lab 'buddy' a glare. "YOU do it. I've got better things to worry about." In spite of the detentions, Sean's assertions that she could indeed be held back if she didn't complete the work and failed her grade. That was fine with her, she already had a decent business. Even with everyone else who did custom corsets on Etsy she was getting sales. Not as many as she'd like, but between the corsets, hair falls, and complete lack of paying any taxes Si had a decent chunk of change for someone her age and a base for a good business.

"No, really," the girl sitting next to her's voice teetered perilously close to a whine. That brought Sidra's cold, annoyed gaze up from the sketch to meet the wide eyes of the other.

"How about you go pair up with someone who actually intends to cut into the baby piggie?" Maybe it was her tone, or maybe the other girl really did want a good grade (she clearly cared too much) but she snatched her bag up, and the pouch of her tools, and skipped over to another table to partner up with someone who clearly cared.

Not Sidra. Satisfied she turned her attention back to the sketch.

Sidra's Currently Wearing

[Ann Hudgins]

What a bitch.

Ann adjusted herself in her new seat and cast a glare back over at the girl that was going to be her partner. At least she found out what a snot that girl was before the lab started, so she wasn't stuck with her. Her new partner didn't look so bad, and she didn't get a wave of pointless resentment when she met their eyes either. She cast another glance at the teacher, and like the good student she was trying to be, she moved up to the front and got the questions and instructions as directed. She actually did do the pre-labs, like she always did her work.

She wasn't going to be able to leave the school come the spring like she should, after graduating, but she didn't see that as a reason to slack on her school work. She may not participate in class, but she always had her homework in on time, and made up for the stuff she couldn't do during class time. She was slowly overcoming her crippling power, and because of that she was slowly poking out of her shell in the classroom, and because her trainers told her to. However, it was a very slow process, because she still got overwhelmed when she absorbs a room full of emotions, especially ones directed to her, or about her. That girl in the back's pissy attitude was still burning behind her eyes and it took more work than normal to forget about it, or push it away. Because, seriously, weren't goths supposed to look forward to mutiliation, or did it not count here because the thing was already dead?

She stacked the papers in front of her and sighed a little and adjusted herself in the chair, again, and looked at the fetal pig. The formaldehyde was disgusting, but she'd honestly smelled worse before, so it wasn't anything she couldn't ignore.

(haha. Couldn't resist -smileyface-)

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid was just sending a boy to the nurse-already green around the gills, that one- when she noticed the slight disturbance near the back of the lab. The talking wasn't loud enough to cause alarm but a glance up told Ingrid this was something to sort out. With a slight huff, she stalked towards the back of the room.

Ingrid looked back between the two girls with an eyebrow raised. It wasn't unusual for student's to dart between partners, but with these two she felt the need to intervene. Sidra had caused a few distractions in the past, and had a nasty habit of late work. And Ann had only recently started to participate more in class and actually show up because of her powers. The clearly irratated look on Ann's face and the smug satisfaction on Sidra's made Ingrid pose the question. "Is there something wrong here girls?"

She looked back and forth between the two, not willing to focus her attention on just one. While many teachers would push the blame on the student with a record of off behavior, Ingrid had been in the business long enough to know even star pupils made mistakes. So instead she sent both a reprimanding look and waited for either to speak up so she could get class started. "And Sidra, I'm sure I don't have to tell you to put the sketch pad away once class starts."

[L.C. Milliner]

She had been abandoned.

L.C. stared at the boy exiting the classroom with a mixed look, one of clearly defined rage and subtle hints of anxiety. He had been her partner, and now he was gone, and she’d be forced to cut up the pig on her own. She wasn’t the least bit squeamish about it, like most girls, but still… It was a fetal pig. It hadn’t done anything to her to deserve what she was going to do to it. In fact, it was almost cute, exempting the red dye coming from its nostrils that looked like blood. L.C. gulped and reached out, patting its side in a gesture of sympathy. Sure, it was dead, but honor was for the dead, right? There was no honor in this. She had to peel off its skin! Not only that, she had to peel off its skin in one piece and use it as a blanket to keep it in the preservatives later, and oh God, she was going to feel awful about it.

“I will never eat pork for the rest of my life.” L.C. muttered, rolling up her sleeves and reaching for a scalpel. She could do this. She would not chicken out of this and get a failing grade. She held the scalpel in one shaky hand and began to cut at the skin, or at least tried to. She pushed, she switched angles, she gulped and tried a different location. There was just one problem.

The damn thing wasn’t cutting.

Any normal person would’ve exchanged the scalpel. L.C. was not a normal person. Drawing looks from the surrounding tables, she let out a growl of frustration, slapped the scalpel down on the counter, and, quick as a cat, extended a single iron spike from her index finger. Glancing at the diagram she had been given for cutting, she sliced a line down the middle, up the underside of the front legs, and down the underside of the back legs. Her work was admirable. A bit deep, in some parts, but at least it had been cut. She huffed and looked up at the other students, many of whom were staring at her.

“What’re you all looking at? Least I got it done.” True, at the moment she could probably pass for a delirious mental asylum patient at the moment, hand raised, eyes narrowed, and spike extending from her finger. But that was beside the point.

((This opportunity was too good to pass up. I dissected fetal pigs last year and I distinctly remember wishing for L.C.'s power when I had the scalpel in hand...))

[Sidra Cotton]

Barely glancing up from her sketch pad when Mrs. Barnes came over. “Nothing’s the matter, everything’s been handled.” Ann had gone on to another partner, and she was left to continue her design. Except that Mrs. Barnes interrupted her. Again.

With a huff she looked up again and, only as teenagers were able, leveled the teacher with a look of long suffering. “I’m sure that we have, but really? Fetal pigs?” The skeleton pen which she’d been sketching with waved towards the pig. Wrinkling her nose she turned her attention back to the sketch only to look up again at the commotion over towards the Carnie.

At one point Si had thought LC would make a good ally, but their initial meeting hadn’t gone quite as well as Si had imagined. And thus she no longer felt that way. Yet, the other, older girl still provided her with entertainment and her unique way of slicing open the pig. One thing the goth would admit, even aloud, was that the Carnie had style.

As the others in the class shifted their eyes away from LC and her temper and back to either their own pigs and attempting to keep their breakfast down, Sidra’s eyes returned to Mrs. Barnes. Up went her eyebrows in a silent question. Or was it a challenge of her authority? Perhaps a little bit of both, Si definitely resented Hammel for taking her away from her dad and brother. And now she resented Mrs. Barnes for trying to stop the flow of creativity that was going to turn into something more than just a side project to pad a high schooler’s pockets. Rather, she had every intention for her corsetry and costuming business to take off. And what, she wondered, would she need to dissect a pig for that?

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid's eyebrow raised to an impossible height, making her expression look terribly surprised. She wasn't shocked that Sidra didn't even make eye contact, she had gotten over the girl's attitude long ago. But that didn't mean she had to like it. She left the borderline rude comments slip, knowing that with teenagers it was best to pick your battles. She replied with a voice that left no room for nonsense. "Yes, fetal pigs. Same as used in schools all across the nation. Is there any problem with that?"

She turned slightly to see what the new commotion was, exasperated. "L.C. dear." She called to get attention, not moving from her spot in front of Sidra and Ann. She talked pleasantly, not at all alarmed that the girl was brandishing a pointy object in class. " How about we try to use the scalpels instead of our powers? And please don't point that at people, that boy over there already looks about to pass out. If you need a new one, they are a few in the gray box on my desk. As for the rest of you, class started. Get to work."

Feeling satisfied, Ingrid went back to her stand off with Sidra. She snapped her fingers to get the girl's attention back from L.C. Her eyes kept locked with Sidra's seeing the challenge there. Instead of getting annoyed, she smiled wryly and walked closer. She came around the edge of the desk, peering down what the girl was drawing. "Corset's, hmm?" She questioned, smile still in place. "You have talent in the artistry department, no doubt about that. But I wonder if you'd save that for later and do your work, so you won't have to do it later in detention?"

[Ann Hudgins]

The queasy stomachs around the room didn't effect Ann, thank the lord. However, the feelings of repulsion and disgust, and sympathy were enough to have Ann completely conflicted about cutting into the pig. When the teacher called her out because of her minor setback with that fail of a metahuman being, she blushed. She hated being singled out. She swiveled sideways in the chair,though left her feet where they were and she sighed a little.

"I don't have a problem anymore, Mrs. Barnes," her voice was meek and she didn't meet eyes with the lady, not because they woman intimidated her--she'd met much worse than her--but because she didn't want the attention. After her hurried explanation, she turned back to her pig and glanced towards her partner. The wrinkled nose and upturned chin was a huge indication that Ann would have to be doing the work. She could touch a pig--it was dead. She leaned forward a picked up a scalpel. She had naturally shaky hands and she had to brace her wrist against the leg of the pig before she started the incision down it's torso.

It cut easy, like lunch meat, and she unflinchingly cut as the directions explained and pinned back the skin, as the black and white image shown. After that was done she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, because her sense of smell refused to get used to the formaldehyde. She looked at all the brightly colored organs she could now see, thanks to preservatives and she sighed. There was no way a stomach was that shade of pink. She glanced sideways at her partner and held out the scalpel, handle out, to see if she would like to participate, but her hands stayed firmly wrapped around her sides. Ann blew out her mouth, at her bangs, and turned back to the desecrated pig, and thus she continued as the paper directed. She didn't notice the iron-spiked female behind her, nor heard the teacher's suggestion to the girl. Ann had perfected the art of selective hearing over the years.

[Sidra Cotton]

There was no problem with the pigs themselves, just that she didn’t want to do the work. Period. It was uninteresting and she’d seen worse on her dad’s table. Besides it was more profitable to continue the design on the corset. Avery, she thought, would be pleased with how it was coming out and Mrs. Barnes was screwing with her creative flow.

When the fingers snapped in front of her face, Sidra hissed. Honest-to-god hissed at the woman. “I am not your pet, do not snap at me. So glad you like the corsets, you’d look good in one.” The words were followed by the silent thought, They’d put those saggy puppies right back where they belong. “I could, but I’d lose my mojo…” looking back down at the sketch she groaned and slammed the pen down, “which I’ve now lost, thanks wholly to you. That was for a paying customer! This,” she waved at the dead baby pig, “is not! This is Hammel spending money on crap that’s not important. Besides, what’s a baby pig supposed to teach us?”

Her eyes met the teachers in a challenge, “I’ve poked around inside human cadavers with my dad, pigs ain’t nothing.” A great deal of Sidra’s issues in school were coming from missing her family, being at odds with her roommates. For all that and her brother argued, he was her little brother and make-up thief. Her sister’s mood swings were just part of her charm, and her dad… she missed her dad the most. When they were all together Sidra had been a good student. She studied, got good grades, and more or less fussed at her brother for being a slacker. But now? Now she kind of understood.

She did not want to be at Hammel, even if there were some things worth being there for. Boarding school had never been in her dreams. She wasn’t like that. Family was more or less her everything followed very closely by her chosen subculture of goth.

[L.C. Milliner]

“Why cut with something that has already proven not work?” L.C. muttered, looking to Ingrid and back to the pig. “At least this method allows me greater control over the sharp object.” With that, she began cutting away at the skin, severing it like a blanket from the pig’s body. A thin sheet of muscle covered the pig entirely. This proved to be a curiosity to the blonde female. She ways thought the muscles would just present themselves, not hide under another layer. With the hand lacking a spike protruding from it, she poked the layer and nodded. How strange. She went back to cutting the skin.

L.C. was thankful for the respite from Mrs. Barnes, but hearing her biting into another student, she looked up from her work to see her cutting into Sidra, figuratively, of course. The older girl didn’t think Sidra was too bad. Maybe a bit nosy, but she didn’t dislike her more then she disliked anyone else. If anything, she sort of disliked her less. That didn’t mean she liked her, that meant she tolerated her. She wanted to call Sidra over, but instead she went back to the pig, where cutting the skin was getting tedious. L.C. pondered this for a moment. Then, looking up, she noticed some kids were pulling at the skin slowly, like a band aid. And it was coming off. She liked this alternative better. With nothing short of enthusiasm, she pulled on the pig’s skin, ripping the large blanket of it from the pig’s back with a similar sound of ripping a page from a book. Loudly.

Looking up, she saw everyone was staring again. And as she locked eyes with a freshman girl, she blinked, and the brunette fainted dead away. “Oh, shit. Er, Mrs. Barnes?!” L.C. pointed, spike shooting back into her finger as her other hand still held the sheet of skin in her other hand. The class was muttering intently, and L.C. was fairly certain she heard the word ‘psychopath’ fall from someone’s lips. Cheeks burning, she put the skin down and sat in her stool, staring at the pig blankly. Should she name it? She’d likely name it something bad, or socially unacceptable. Figures.

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid gave Ann a lingering look, trying to decide on what to say. Part of her felt likes debunking the statement, but the look on the girl's face made her relent. "If you say so." She said, letting her stern look soften for a moment. She did feel bad for the girl, having such a hard time with her powers. Looking more pointedly at Ann's partner she gave a slight warning. "When I assign work to more than one person, I expect more than one person to work. So if I were you I'd help Ann or risk a failing grade."

Turning back to her stare down with Sidra, Ingrid poised herself for the onslaught. She allowed the teen her little fit, waiting until Sidra had her say before speaking. Ingrid gave herself a bare moment to keep her temper in check and then let a thin smile spread across her face. " First off, I'll snap if I please to You're not a pet but at least it got your attention. Secondly, I'm perfectly fine when student's do not like me. And I can accept a student not wanting to do their work. But I will have respect in my classroom. So you can either do as I ask or you can ji-"

A loud shout from L.C. broke Ingrid from her lecturing and she whirled around in irritated surprise. The retort that was forming died on her lips when she saw the fainted child. "Well, today is going fantastically." She muttered, before raising her voice. "Back away from her, the lot of you. L.C. I told you to use a scalpel and this is why!"

Giving Sidra a quick warning, she began to bustle over to the girl on the floor. "Sidra, we will finish this in a moment! The rest of you quiet down!" She leaned over the girl, who was already waking back up. Ingrid glanced around to the small crowd forming. "One of you take her to the nurse please."

[Sidra Cotton]

Grumbling under her breath, Sidra put a few final lines on the page and closed the sketchbook filled with her designs. Setting it aside, she drew on the gloves that were provided and picked up the scalpel. She had more than enough detention to last her a life time, hell, she'd probably be serving detention after she graduated. Assuming she did.

Sidra was still uncertain about quite a bit in regards to Hammel. Things she wanted to figure out, but didn't dare actually give voice to. How long could they hold her after she came of age? 18 was considered legally an adult, and one could not be detained if one had not committed a crime. Something she had not done. In Vermont, and the plantation incident less than three years ago with her siblings and a few school mates had been-- well she'd been charged with trespassing but nothing more. A handful of hours volunteering at the very plantation she'd, and her friends, had broken into later and she was a free teen again. It wasn't going on her permanent record and so Hammel had no reason to hold her once she turned 18.

Yet there was that nagging feeling that they would.

Glaring up at Mrs. Barnes' back, Sidra glanced down and cut into the pig. Her scalpel, unlike L.C.'s, cut in easily, parting the skin, muscle, and tissue until she could peel it back and peer into the innards. Her cut was straight and neat. Almost professional. Almost, but Sidra wasn't her father. She didn't have his years of experience, just the few times he let her help him while he taught her human anatomy.

Once the pig had been cut open, she set aside the scalpel and leaned back.

"Voila."

And a tiny (large) part of Sidra laughed silently at those getting sick and being sent out. Weak. All of them. L.C., and even Ann, seemed to be doing better than most. Ann she was surprised about, L.C. not so much. The Carnie had seen and lived much. It stood to reason she could play with the pig without being caught up in ridiculous emotional attachment or squeamish stomach.