Zim Dissociates And Keeps Forgetting What Dib Says To Him Multiple Times

Acting Professor Ashthorn

Malorn sucks in a deep breath, his shoulders rising high to mirror his internal tenseness. It's a wild pitch under these circumstances, but he leaves this unsaid, he doesn't know if he'll get another chance to ask.

"Headmaster," he says, "I would like to become an acting Professor."

Headmaster Ambrose raises his head, his furious rummaging through his stacks upon endless stacks of papers ceasing momentarily. His bushy eyebrows rise high on his head, though it's hard to tell if he's intrigued or surprised.

"Hmmmmm," the old wizard drones. A hand rises to his long white beard and runs his fingers through it thoughtfully. His glass eye stares off into the distance. "Hmmmmm..."

Malorn clasps his hands behind his back, puffing his chest out to appear more confident than he is. It was nerve-wracking enough to have been called in over Bartleby's missing eye. We had nothing to do with it was the general gist of the conversation on that topic. And it's the truth, no matter what the other students might whisper about.

"There are still Death students here at Ravenwood," Malorn speaks up. "They deserve some kind of teacher, I believe. I've already been leading study sessions with Duncan, though without proper resources we can only learn so much by ourselves."

His words don't seem to affect the Headmaster's listless stare. Behind his closed lips, he grits his teeth, preparing for the worst. It'd be great to be given some sort of temporary Professorship role. While the Death School took many Necromancy books with it, there's still some materials inside the school library that he'd be able to access if he were to be considered a Professor or even a Professor's Assistant. Not that him and Duncan are anywhere near exhausting what the library already has available to students and the public, but their usefulness is certainly starting to dwindle.

The Headmaster finally begins to nod, turning his attention back to Malorn. "Indeed, it will benefit the remaining students..." He shuffles around his desk some more, his sight finally set on something clear. And from one of the stacks he withdraws what he was searching for. He waves his hand in the air, and a quill comes flying through the air from one of the messy corners of his office. With a few quick strokes, he slides the paper and quill forward for Malorn to see.

From the desk of Headmaster Merle Ambrose, Henceforth from the signing of this document, wizard Malorn AshThorn will assume the position of "Acting Professor"; to be treated as a Professor, given permission to access and borrow from faculty resources as needed, and held to account for all regular responsibilities. ~ Class is to be held once a day for a minimum of seven (7) hours but no longer than ten (10) hours, within the Ravenwood campus. ~ A comprehensive syllabus and full student progress report is to be provided to the Headmaster regularly each school quarter. This agreement will be held in effect until one or more of the following are met, ~ A new Professor is assigned to the Death School. ~ There is failure to remain within the parameters of the contract. ~ There is no longer a need for service.

Below is the Headmaster's signature in a mass of elegant scribbles, along with a line for Malorn to sign on as well. He can't help but take a deep breath as he reads it over a few more times, making sure he understand it in its entirety.

Finally, he takes the quill with a firm nod and signs his name at the bottom. Not long after he finishes his final flick, a wave of relief washes over him, and finally he feels like he's able to relax, if only for the moment. He's got quite a lot of work ahead of him if he's to keep to this agreement, but he's determined.

And now he's an Acting Professor.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he beams.

The Headmaster nods back and gives him a little shooing motion, his cheeks puffing out as he gives the student a smile. "Now run along. I look forward to seeing what you put together for your students."

In his happy daze, Malorn staggers outside. The fresh air is cool and welcoming. He takes a moment to stand there in front of the door and take it in, collecting himself.

"Well?" Duncan's voice asks, drifting to his ears on the wind. His vision returning to reality, Malorn spots his friend posted up by the front gate to the Headmaster's office/house, staring at him expectantly.

"I got the Bartleby accusations cleared up," he reports. Though he can't hide his smile as he adds, "But, I'm now-" he raises a hand to tug at his robe, "-Acting Professor Ashthorn."

Duncan's face takes a moment to light up at the news, though his smile is somewhat strained. Malorn suspects he already knows the reason as to why.

"Relax, I'm not replacing him," Malorn reassures the troubled student. "I just think that we're getting to a point where we need someone in a teaching role, and we can't keep waiting to see if Malistaire is going to return. Besides, it's only a temporary position."

Duncan scowls, his gaze searching the ground for a way to organize his thoughts. A reluctant sigh passes through his lips, and finally he offers a genuinely supportive smile.

"You're the only other wizard I'd trust to teach Necromancy," he says with an approving nod.

"Thanks," Malorn replies. It's not quite what he was expecting to get, but he'll take it. So long as he's still able to keep Duncan's head above water...

He rubs his hands together, his mind quickly turning to other matters at hand. It's late in the day. He's got a lot to do and not much time left to do it, though it's more an issue of somehow putting the ideas that have been stewing in his head all this time into practice. "I got to go now. I have a lot to prepare for tomorrow. Class will start early by the hole."

"Early?" Duncan groans.

Malorn only nods back. "I expect you to be on-time, Dunc. No exceptions." He gives Duncan a pat on his shoulder as Malorn passes him by, eager to get to the library before it closes for the day. He leans in close and mutters into his ear, "Your IOU will double every time you're late."

He catches a brief glimpse of Duncan's face going pale before he dashes off.

On it boss !

guards ! put that man in a springlock suit and leave him to rot for thirty years !

where are the jobs for useless people who can't handle anything at all

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Contd from here!

They are the cutest I can‘t🤧✨

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