Do you get the feeling that you've seen me before? (fortidsemne) - Yakov

This was probably going to be quite interesting. Sergei had only just moved to Moonlight Falls a couple of months ago, in time to relax while the students had their summer vacation, before his work would start for real. And today was his second day at work, and the first time as assisting teacher in fencing. He hadn't had any morning classes to teach today, so he'd taken it easy at home, drinking a nice, hot cup of coffee while he did his own research on the teacher he was going to be assisting in fencing from now on. It just seemed like the sensible thing to do - especially when you, like Sergei, had a want and need to know what you could about the people you were going to work with, even before meeting them. The same with the students - yesterday evening had been used on perusing the files of the students that were in this particular fencing class, and further study on the ones he already had in Biology, and the ones he was going to meet in the late Spells class today.

So, as he was sipping his coffee and eating some of the leftover syrnikis he had from last night - they had stayed his favorite combined breakfast and dessert ever since he first tasted them in his young adult life in Russia - he got straight into reading. And when he read the full name of the guy he was going to be assisting in that class... He froze, in the middle of taking another sip of his coffee. Wait. Yakov Bogdanovich Romanov... Wasn't that... That incredibly annoying angel? The one that'd tried to interrupt his every move with the late tsar's family? It would be quite the big coincidence if it was someone else with that exact name, after all... Oh well. Unless the angel could do something he didn't know about, he'd be easy to recognize on the spot when he saw him... The same couldn't be said about Sergei himself - since that angel, after all, had known him as Rasputin... In his old body. Before he was killed.

And if it was indeed that annoyingly suspicious angel, well, he was going to have some fun exploiting the fact that he didn't look like himself at all... Except the eyes, which he, of course, had noticed himself, a long time ago. Maybe it was because he was still the same soul inside? People liked to call the eyes the window to the soul, after all... Anyway, he was going to be there earlier than he had to - maybe he could get a good talk with the guy, then, before the students showed up. So he got going, and before too long, he had arrived at the school. Correcting his clothes as he got out of the car, he hefted his sports bag up on one shoulder - he had all his fencing gear inside it - and went inside, to the gym hall that had been decked out with the proper mats for the class to take place. It was twenty minutes before the students should arrive, so there was plenty of time for him to look around and get familiar with where everything was here, while waiting for the other teacher to show up.

With a nice hot cup of coffee in his hand and a duffle bag on his shoulder, Yakov was making his way to the gym hall where his fencing classes were situated. He had quickly changed from his everyday-wear to his training shoes, white breeches, socks and a grey tank top. His jacket, chest protector, plastron and jacket were all at the gym hall, and while he could've gotten changed to all of it back there, he was maybe a little bit intimidated by the fact that his class' new assisting teacher would be meeting him today. Because although he knew the guy was a witch, Yakov wasn't just gonna get changed nearby a stranger without further ado. People around this place were odd and way too comfortable with their bodies and sexualities for him to comfortably do so. Working with Julian was more than enough sexual harassment, he didn't need any additional advances.

As soon as Yakov entered the gym hall, he got a weird feeling, but he shrugged it off, and with a small and polite smile, he walked towards the person in the room. "You must be the new assisting teacher, Sergei, correct?" he asked, sounding neither friendly or dismissive, before extending his free hand to the man. "My name is Yakov Romanov, a pleasure to meet you," was added, more as a formality than to actually inform the man of it, as he was sure he would've been told so by the school board and it would be written on the class schedule.

Before too long, his thoughts throughout most of the morning, were answered. There was no way he could ever mistake that face for being anybody else... This was indeed the angel he'd thought it was, though now obviously fallen, with what had happened tot he Romanovs. If he only knew what he himself had done to the last of the children... How he'd gotten his own little revenge on the infuriating man.

But the smile that showed up on his face showed nothing, it even extended into his eyes, but he'd always been exceptionally good at lying. And only better throughout the years after his death. There was only one or two people in the world who, by now, knew who he actually was - and some he knew he could maybe not completely trust, but he also knew they weren't going to say anything. Mostly because he'd cast a curse on them that would activate if they ever told someone without his explicit permission to.

"Indeed, I am. Sergei Popov." he said as he took Yakov's hand with a firm handshake, before letting go again. His voice had just the slightest tinge of the Russian accent still there, but it was barely noticeable after all of the years he'd spent outside of his homeland. Unless you knew what to listen for, of course. Their eyes had met for a moment as they shook hands, but then Sergei's eyes wandered around the room again, before settling on Yakov yet again. He nodded, and ran a hand through his hair, before asking, "So... I take it you've already been informed of my capabilities? Or did they leave it up to me to tell you the details?" after all, Yakov would need to know how much Sergei could do, to know how he could best use him as his assisting teacher. Sergei had been training fencing for about a decade by now - not on any extremely high level, but not quite casually, either.

Yakov had suspected as much as Sergei being a Russian - or at the very least of Russian decent - if nothing, then just from his name. The name Popov wasn't that strange, but Yakov did cock his head slightly to the side, trying to remember any remarkable Popovs that he could've heard of, but the only one he could think of was an Alexander, who, while remarkable, was also very very dead. Then again, he couldn't possibly be expected to know all supernatural Russians, and besides, for all he knew, the man before him could've been born post-revolution, eliminating most chances of them ever meeting. "Pleasure to meet you," he simply said, with the same calculated smile on his lips.

"I've heard a bit. How about I explain how I've taught the past classes?" he asked, waiting briefly before yapping on about what kind of weapons the students were taught with, which grips and why he had chosen them, how much equipment the school had, what equipment the students could bring themselves, what the different classes were focusing on currently and so on. "Oh and the class you're meeting today are... I'd say mediocre. They don't need that much help with the basics, but things like proper stance and general finesse are where you'll probably be helping the most. We usually start with theory, repetition of what we've been through with some examples, and then some actual practice in pairs through some exercises. In the end, if there's time,, I'll let the pairs practice using all the different techniques in small matches. Any questions?"