Fantasy Mountain of Roses: A Futuristic Fantasy Act 1 (On Hiatus)

[LeonardPCollins]

Setting

You can count the number of Arcane schools that can claim to rival the Damascean Integrated University with the fingers of your right hand, given that you're human that is, even fewer would openly admit it. With the recent occurrences known as the Fractures, the Damascean government stepped forward with a program to train specialists in halting this new threat. The school board thus decided it was best that they look for talent not only within the walls of their fair city but outside as well.


The year before high school, aspirants that wish to test their mettle apply for a chance to enter the exclusive university by taking both a written and practical test held in international testing centers. The latter would hold more gravity than the former in terms of grading percentage. That isn't to say that one cannot enter by an exceptionally high score on the written test, while suffering in the practical portion. After a week, and no more than that, the list of a hundred or so foreign students is ready. All that is left was sending the letters.


In the likely case of being rejected, do not give up hope. There are better suited people for the position. However, should an acceptance letter show up in your inbox, rejoice. The hardest part of your academic life has passed as it is harder to get kicked out of the university than getting in. Attached to the letter is a form to fill up to apply for a Damascean student visa.


Fast forward to the month before the start of the school year, designated planes world wide act as international shuttles to ferry new and returning foreign students.


By the time your shuttle had gathered the students on the way back to Damasceane, night has veiled the horizon in its dark purple dress bedecked by stars infinite. Entering Damasceane air space, two lights, one more grossly incandescent than the other, could be seen from the left of the winged vehicle as it circled over and around the lesser of the two. The farthest one, composed of even smaller lights within a dark wall, was brighter than the one closer to the plane, for it was Damasceane, the great walled city. The other, less luminescent light composed of smaller, dimmer lights was the off shore trading and commercial hub of the city, Founders'Island.


Built in the late imperial style, it was a well-formed structure composed of three levels: the body, which was a trunk to hold up numerous landing platforms for planes, was the most prominent, built to a height of 800 meters above sea level; closer to the water was the docks, and underneath that was a complex train system running around the island, to, and from Damasceane.

While it was undeniably dark, glimpses of the building can be seen from the passenger windows as the plane entered vertical landing mode. Spotlights around the building were poised upwards to the focus mainly on two statues that seemed to tear away from the darkness the closer the plane got to the building.


Like vigilant guardians, destined to watch the fair city in the mainland for eternity, the two statues wore intense emotions on their faces. The names of these figures are well known to Damasceane, and her children. To the North East of the building was a woman in a long, windswept gown seated upon a globe with all known countries embossed onto its metal body, except one. This woman has appeared in Damascean artworks many times but her identity is contested up to this day. Some say it is the one deity that Damasceans worship, Victoria, the mother of heroes, and bringer of victory, a spirit that watched the pilgrimage of Leon and the brave ancestors of the Damasceans. Other accounts say it was his wife, or a close relative. On the other end of the building was a figure exuding athleticism and youth rather than masculinity, lifting a globe on his broad shoulders. This globe was devoid of all countries but Damasceane. The metal giant who held up the globe was Leon of Vimir, the hero that, along with a fellowship of loyal companions, led the first people of Damasceane out of Oneshian oppression, and into the future. He wasn't a giant nor did he sport a beard that reached his waist; he was in fact a short man, but acted in manners that contradicted his appearance.


As the plane containing a portion of the foreign students docked, a reminder cracked in the speakers of the cabin reminding them to find their baggage before heading to the subterranean train system. The elevator ride took the students deep into one of the major train stations of the country, exposing a well lit, cavernous chamber walled by reflective metal walls. It also gave them a glimpse of Damascean geology, as geodes, precious ores and what have you were labeled and shone lights upon for visitors to appreciate from the glass tubular lift. Looking down, at the approaching lower floor, a train, among others had arrived in a special designated track marked with holographic signs reading "Damasceane Integrated University"


As per instruction, the students hopped on, and sped off underneath the great city. But their stop was not there, no. It was farther into the peninsula, where a great virgin plain used to be undisturbed, now turned into a bustling university. The train stopped, and two representatives waited outside, one male, one female. This would be where the group splits into two. The male would call the attention of the boys to follow him, and so did the female with the rest.


The two guided the students to their respective dorms on opposite ends of the residential area of the campus, both made in equal proportion and design. Upon your arrival you are met by warmth that battled the cold autumn air that sneaked in through the automatic doors. The representative did a head count and handed over slivers of metal, thin, yet stiff. A few of the recipients tried, and failed to make a dent on them.


"This is your ID." The representative said, holding up theirs, "It has basic security access and will let you through most facility doors, and it will be your means to pay for your daily free breakfast, lunch and dinner, any more than that, and you will have to use your own money if you brought any. And since, not everyone is here yet, and we have a week to go before school starts, it leaves you guys a lot of time to get used to the place. Behind your ID card is a number, that number would indicate your room."


After the small lecture on the ID cards, all that was left to do was to settle in your new room. Upon managing to find it, and sliding your ID through the slit of a mechanism underneath the door handle, the room lit up and you were greeted by both a computerized voice that mentioned your name, and the visage of a spacious dorm room.


On the farthest end was your bed, with its left side facing a small balcony separated from the room by bullet proof glass sliding doors. The bed faced a study desk with a built-in organizer and outlets. To its left is a wooden wardrobe that has yet to be filled. The wardrobe faced a door that stood to the right of the bed. Stepping into the lit bathroom, the first hing you would see is yourself, reflected off a three-pane mirror mounted above a marble sink base and a metallic basin with a rectangular faucet and handles affixed onto it. To the right is a shower pod. To the left of the sink is the toilet with more buttons you knew could be fixed onto a porcelain waste disposal unit.


Start

The morning chased away the remnants of the night as you awoke. The same voice that greeted you last night did the same the moment you hopped off bed. A holographic interface on the balcony glass door showed a small briefing of the news, weather, and what have you. Nothing significantly new was on display, only that the rips are becoming more frequent around the world outside major cities. The voice added that it could be shut off from a simple press of a button on the holographic interface.


Breakfast would be on your itinerary, for sure. The representative last night, as you remembered his little briefing, mentioned the directions to the cafeteria.


However, if you were one with a morning ritual, the campus, and gymnasium are good places to jog. In fact, you remember a few night joggers while en route to your dorm. To visit the city via the train system, or stay in the university afterwards is all up to you.

 

[Basement Spaghetti]

New locations are always pretty strange, but for Celine, this place was truly strange. Despite the fact she had already spent a year here before, and had acquired her usual "routine" that she followed every day before school, every time she opened her eyes and stared at the pure white ceilings of this academy, she found herself confused and disoriented. She wouldn't call the feeling homesickness, because she didn't really long for home. There wasn't any kind of pit in her stomach telling her to return to the sandy plains of Sudlich, but yet, every time she was not in her family's palace when she awoke, she found it strange. Perhaps she would never get used to the amount of green that the rest of the world held. Perhaps her heart would always be lodged in the wasteland that her family wrangled into being livable. Only time would tell.


She bounced out of bed and the moment her room's companion began speaking, an entity she referred to as "Tor", she clapped three times, effectively shutting him up again. Tor, in the language of her homeland, referenced the town fool, or the town drunkard, and was an insult usually aimed at someone that was found exceedingly annoying. She began brushing her teeth, and scratched the side of her head with her other hand, mumbling profanities under her breath. Celine spit into the sink and gargled with mouthwash, the teeth whitening variety, and spit that out too. She undressed and as she hopped into the shower, she cleared her throat and spoke. "Tor, what's the news today?"





The voice sounded from outside her shower. "Today, reports are coming in of multiple rifts opening up around some major cities. Reports are varying about the degree and multiplicity of the openings, but these cities have been placed on high alert."





Celine perked up. "Is the city of Sudlich, Continent Danaa, District 17 listed on emergency?"





There was a delay as the robot attempted to access the information, and after a deathly silent moment, it chimed and replied. "The city of Sudlich, Continent Danaa, District 17 is not currently listed on any major state of emergency. Although, the city of Great Rift, Continent Danaa, District 24 is currently listed on emergency, and is the closest city to do so. District 24 is located three hundred and thirty-seven miles southwest."





Celine exhaled. "Thank my stars..." she murmured, finished her shower, and heading out into her room, towel around body and another around her hair. District 24 was under emergency, huh? That is deceptively close to her home, and that is a bad thing. That means she would have to hurry up and finish up here, and head home to lead her people. Sudlich was still having trouble coming to grips with the fact that this fracturing phenomena was the real deal, and many people even denied it was real. Still, they were forced to put up a shield in the wake of world sanctions lobbied against the city, and the people remained safe, for now. Still, seeing as how the rips were opening more and more frequently, it meant they were running out of time.

 

[LeonardPCollins]

If it's any part of the day that seemed the hardest, it was the mornings. It was always the mornings. Wrapped in the heavenly, not to mention comfortably warm, safety and comfort of his thick blankets, in a cozy 18 decrees Celsius, Creighton von Rozenberg very briefly debated with himself whether to get up at all. It was always the same, even after returning after the summer break: eat, run, hide, read, rinse and repeat until passing out in bed Speaking of which, he didn't remember coiling up in this position, nor did he remember putting away his eReader. This would be the main cause of him rising up from his slumber.


Like a monster from one of those black-and-white Elvish shows from Eastern Danaa rising from the sea, he lifted his trunk from the bed surface, rather sluggishly. His mouth gaped wide and long as he bellowed a monstrous yawn, licking his dry mouth to lessen the discomfort it was giving him. At this point, all he could see are blurry, shadowed shapes as he always kept the curtains closed, only allowing a blade of light to enter through a small crack between the window edge and curtain. with fisted hands, he rubbed away whatever grasp sleep still had on him. Before relief can turn into pain, he stopped, and found the room to be clearer. It was a mess, to say the least. Articles of clothing were strewn here and there, bits and parts of electronics were scattered on top of the study desk. The organizer has barely been touched, and in the space between the ball and his bed, were yet more clothes. But at this point he couldn't care less. It was way too early to make the state his room was in a concern. He needed to find his eReader. He pulled his feet off the side of the bed and onto the floor where two slippers waited. He scratched his side through the thin fabric of his black shirt as he bent down to lift the excess blanket off the ground and onto the bed. Nothing. He moved over to the left side where his used clothes were wedged between the wall and his bed. He dug through he mess, and found his Bonfire™ e- Reader peeping from underneath the bed. Must have gotten there from when he passed out and dropped it. Interestingly enough, the packaging wasn't kidding when it said it was damage proof. He tapped on the screen twice to make it light up. Content that it isn't broke, he went over to the study desk where his laptop was, and plugged it in.


As he was doing so, a looming disembodied voice greeted him


"Good morning, Master Creighton." The room assistant in the voice of a stereotypical posh butler greeted him. The room assistant triggered the mechanism of the curtains to be pulled, and slowly the room was filled with light. He winced, but accepted the visage of the outdoor fountain and hedges situated between the girl's dorm and his.


"Good morning Jeremiah." The namesake of the assistant he had was his caretaker from when he lived in his palace as a child.


The glass pane between him and his balcony dimmed as words and numbers flooded the empty space. Soon pictures fitted the gaps between paragraphs and even videos. Concerning headlines flew left and right among the likes of:


"Nihhan: P.M. endorsing Private Security Groups"


and


"Damasceane: Abducting World's Intellects?"


This is why he rarely reads the news, it's either depressing, or biased to the point of being absurd. He swiped on the glass interface with his palm, which dismissed the briefing session, and opened his laptop, which he used as an MP3 player to play his favorite tunes as he entered the bathroom. He kept the door open and stepped up to the shower pod. Like the window, the glass lit up with a slew of numbers and words. He programmed the shower to rinse and bathe him in warm water. As he stepped in, water treated to kill bacteria shot at him in small, warm, soothing jets. After a good rinse, and a session of bathroom philosophy where he reevaluated himself, and thought about the possibility of an afterlife, he emerged from the pod and avoided dripping on his floor as he went to the wardrobe, picking out a black shirt with silver skull motifs, and long, pocketed shorts. His portfolio of clothing would consist of practically the same. He donned his clothes, and boots and walked over to his laptop and turned it off with one hand while the other unplugged his charger. Plucking his ID from the same table, he hovered over to a small basket where a long-whiskered cat curled up into a ball. He caressed it a little before stepping out with a promise of bringing back food, an locked the door as he turned to face the empty unlit hallway of the boys' dorm 4th floor . He took the stairs down, and stepped onto the hard pavement. He breathed in the treated air, filled with a standard amount of oxygen and minerals, and started his walk down the path leading away from the residential area. It was either the cafeteria or Little Damasceane. He liked the variety of the miniature village, but he was content with the proximity and convenience of the canteen. He'll have to make the decision when he needs to, and simply enjoyed the walk.


He felt the acid build up in his stomach, and he knew at that point he was hungry.

 

[Basement Spaghetti]

Celine stepped into her pink petticoat and tightened it around her hips, all the while munching on some slightly burnt toast covered in peanut butter. On the hologram television she was projecting some classic cartoons from her childhood, which still entertained her today, despite the fact she was far too old to be enjoying them. She let out a nostalgic sigh after she chomped down on the final bit of toast, and pulled on a white blouse, running the buttons up to the last one, which she left undone. The final piece of clothing was her brown cloth jacket, a piece her mother found quite offensive, due to the fact it was awful in a desert climate. But, growing up in a yukata made Celine sick of the things, and she found them quite unfashionable. When she was finished, Celine looked at the device that held Tor, and said, "Tor, compose a message to my father."





Tor spun for a moment and then beeped twice. "What are the contents of the message?"





Celine cleared her throat, and took a sip of water before answering. "Father, I've heard of the situation in Great Rift, and I'm wishing you and the family well. Please forward this message to my brother, Cleric, as well, once you have read this. This semester I have been assigned into the Advanced Political Theory class you wished for, so congratulations on that. I'm also taking my electives in some fighting techniques, in case I'm required to come home and fight in The Bloodbath with the Kone family heir. Also, let Lisbeth know I'm thinking about her and all the Leibra family after the loss of their heir. I will forward you my grades as they come in. Love you." She paused, and then nodded once. "Send it Tor."





"Message sent." Tor paused himself now for a minute, and then said, "Madame Celine, you have a reminder set by yourself three days ago to go to the banquet hall and introduce yourself to new students. There aren't very many people around here who don't know you're a princess, and they all wish to meet you."





Celine groaned. She wasn't dressed nearly well enough to introduce her family to people in the cafeteria, especially in her jacket. Perhaps the blouse and petticoat would be enough? She banked on this fact and threw her jacket off to the side, kissed her scythe that was mounted on the wall, and headed out towards the cafeteria, head held high and completely fake but very convincing smile plastered on her face. Today was the start of another semester of schooling, and conversely, another year of suffering. What could possibly go wrong?

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

Ross awoke to several shrill screams coming from the foot of his bed that seemed to get louder and louder as he tried to ignore it. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought that the infamous Liefwuuld Slasher was under his bed terrorizing yet another person. He groaned and rolled over, deciding that it was still way too early for this. It's not like he was officially a student yet or anything. And yet, the screaming persisted. He grabbed the adjacent pillow and wedged his head into it, but despite his best efforts in drowning it out, it still screamed, nearly tearing the sound barrier asunder.


"Okay fine, I get it! It has to be this way!" Ross shouted to no one in particular, feeling a small pang of embarrassment as he remembered that the rooms were probably being monitored. He threw his pillow to the wall, cast off his sheets and blankets, climbed to the end off the bed and peered downward to the floor only to see his cellphone, or "communicator" as the prissy city-people liked to call it, blaring out a poorly timed alarm. Ross could've sworn that he changed it to something more pleasant, but the screams blaring from within proved that memory wrong. He muttered curses and explicitives as he fumbled with his cell in the dim light of the morning.


As he sat there hanging over the end of the bed staring blankly at the blindingly bright screen of his cell, he tried in vain to remember what he was even supposed to do today, besides the general idea of "get my life together". He went and checked his phone for his itinerary and time. His schedule was blank, and the clock said "too bloody early", so with that, he thrust himself out of bed, and stumbled over to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. After messing with the light switch for an embarrassingly long time, the lights flickered on, and only then did he see the mess of a man that stared back at him from the large bathroom mirror. He had a lot of work to do before he was ready for the day. His hair was frazzled, he hasn't shaved in a week, his shirt is on backwards, and he looks like a geek. With his horrendous appearance confirmed, he searched for the dufflebag he left in the bathroom the night before, retrieved his razor, bubblegum pink totally masculine™ shampoo, and his hand mirror before lazily disrobing, and stepping into the shower. While his stood under the scalding water simultaneously trying to keep his mirror clean while he shaved, wash his hair, and sing the song of his people, he really hoped that people weren't watching him.

 

[LeonardPCollins]

You wouldn't believe the look on Creighton's face when he was given the shock of a lifetime. Just as he was approaching the automatic glass doors that exits to the lawn in front of the boys' dorm, a deafening sound erupted out of no where, as if a fighter bomber had entered mach 20 in a split second, shattering the sound barrier right above his head. He crouched down, covering his ears until it stopped. Weird, he thought curling up into a fetal position while enduring pain was later in his itinerary. When the sound stopped, and the ringing in his ears subsided, he thought it was best to take a quick trip to the nurse's office just to check the sound, whatever it was, didn't rupture anything. He wanted to be many things, and he hoped to achieve those inside this school, but being deaf was not one of those things.


Still feeling the reverberations through his body as the aftershock of the painful sound remained in his limbs, he leaned against the handle bar of the door steps as he made his way to meet the courtyard pavement. He was met with a small square where a stone fountain stood in the middle depicting a winged robed person, an agent of Victoria otherwise known as an angel cradling an urn underneath his arm as water poured from it and onto a cornucopia of smaller figures on the basin of the fountain. He stepped forward, and found himself walled on all four sides by well-trimmed hedges with flowers blooming. These walls were divided into two by a pathway running through them. Should he proceed forward, he would reach the girls' dorm; to the left, a small multi purpose court, and to the right, the rest of the university. He took the path to the rest of the university campus, obviously and followed his recollection to take him to the hospital facility. It was a low-lying group of white buildings on the west side of the main building of the General Education department. He entered the lobby of the infirmary, and was met by a uniformed receptionist, whom he told what had happened, with his additional concern hat there may be damage to his ears. She sat up from her desk behind the counter and directed Creighton to a hall, raising a hand to point the direction where he wants to go.


Thanking her, Creighton walked down the hall, and took a left on the first opportunity to do so, until he reached a door indicated by the receptionist. He knocked sheepishly, several times until he make the knocks more audible. He was let in by the school nurse. She was a woman made of vines and leaves, with eyes that look like emeralds. He told her what eh did to the receptionist and submitted himself for an examination. The nurse produced a pod from her palms right in front of him. It wasn't the first time he saw this, but it always managed to impress the boy. "Thank you, Ms. [insert name here. Someone wanted to be the nurse but hasn't submitted a CS yet]." Creighton said, upon eating the sweet fruit that seemed to not only cure pain in his ear canals, but also improve his hearing as well. The only downside to her treatment was that ear wax dripped down from his earlobe as enzymes were secreted to melt them.


"You've been taking care of yourself, Creighton?" The tree-woman asked, as she tapped away on her computer keyboard, updating his profile. "I don't want to hear anything about you being bullied again this year."


"I'm doing my best, miss." He nodded. The best is all he could do in terms of avoiding the vexatious people who sought to make his life horrible. After a couple of questions, he wasd allowed to go on his merry way. His stomach grumbled. He sould have asked for something to soothe a belly ache, but it was too late at this point as he said good bye to the receptionist, and made his way for the canteen.

 

[Basement Spaghetti]

] Apologies for being missing all day. I started working again and they're hell bent on making me suffer ]


Now was the moment of truth. She wasn't wearing anything that screamed, "Hey, I'm royalty, come worship me" or anything. In fact, the simple petticoat/blouse combo she likes to wear was designed by her to draw attention away from the fact that she was a princess. She clutched her copy of Politics and You; Advanced Political Maneuvering and Systems tightly to her chest and threw open the door to the cafeteria. It was as populated as she expected it to be this early in the morning. This was a college after all; no one would be up before 11 am if they couldn't help it, but the room was absolutely massive. She had been at this place for a year now, and even after that much time, she still couldn't get used to the grandiose nature and sheer scale of this room. She acquired some breakfast, something a bit more substantial than a simple piece of slightly burnt toast with peanut butter. She was dispensed eggs, toast, jam, corn beef hash, and juice.


She found a seat at a great distance from one of the groups of people in the cafeteria, and began to eat, all the while flipping through the pages of her textbooks, pulling information from every page. This topic was one of the ones going to be covered initially, grand-scale senatorial practice, and how to effectively organize such a thing. Perhaps, she thought, she would be able to organize both continents and create some sort of Essidor World Congress or Senate or something, anything to help the world come together and fend off this threat. Her motivations may very well be moved by the fact that she just found out a city near to her home faces whatever destruction a rift brings. Great. Talk about motivation to study!


Celine was amazed by the fact that no one had run up to her and started screaming. It was a nice surprise, in fact she very much preferred this time alone to scheme about how to organize the world and have them save it. Whenever she looked up, Celine would catch a few faces staring at her, whispering to one another. She recognized a few of them as older students who knew her, and perhaps knew her well enough to know that she wasn't quite as nice as her princess facade led others to believe. Either way, the murmuring of the Israelites was gentle enough to keep her focused on work and breakfast. She paused for a moment. Perhaps it wasn't even the fact that she was a princess that she was getting glances. Perhaps, instead, it was the fact she was using a paper book instead of some e-reader. Celine got extreme headaches when reading for extended periods on a reader, and because of that, and the fact she could afford, she was able to have books printed for her. A rare sight indeed.

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

With that taken care of, Ross stepped out of the shower cubicle a new man, or at least a slightly cleaner one. To be quite honest, he was actually quite happy to leave the shower. There were little too many knobs and dials attached to the thing, and he swore he could almost hear the sound of mechanical whirring behind the off-white walls of the shower. Deciding to cast his personal paranoia aside, he scrounged around the bathroom, and picked up his dropped clothing, and shoved them into the bedroom's closet in a heap towards the corner, save his trousers. Those had only been worn for a day, and Ross considered them still fresh. Laundry costs are expensive these days! Yeah, that sounds about right. He also made a mental note that this was his excuse for when people asked him why he was wearing two-day-old trousers stained with what might or might not be mustard mustard on the hem.


The next five minutes were spent throwing on and off clothing, nearly destroying the nightstand in search of his glasses, and a moment spent in sheer panic when he realized that he actually had somewhere to be today. It's actually quite interesting how a time limit can speed a person's movement up, and in Ross' case, he was up, dressed, and out the door in just a few minutes. Sure, he didn't dry properly, and his moisture from his skin was beginning to bleed through his clothing, but it's the briskness that counts in this competition. Checking and then double checking to make sure that he remembered to pocket his cell, ID, and wallet, he pushed open the door to his tomb bedroom, and made his way down the hall, towards the cafeteria.


In theory, this was a simple yet fantastic plan, however, he slowly came to the realization that he didn't know where the cafeteria was, and his brain wasn't awake enough yet to form coherent sentences, so he wasn't planning on asking for help of the other students, so he picked the first person he saw that seemed like they had the least amount of screws loose, and started trailing them. In this instance, it happened to be some sullen looking bloke with reddish hair. However, Ross slowly discovered that this was probably a terrible idea, because this was technically considered stalking, but more importantly, this genius seemed to be taking a walk all over campus. After the deadhead-redhead took a sharp turn, and walked into an opened room only to close the door behind him, Ross decided that it'd be for the best if he just sucked it up, and asked someone for help. So there he stood with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, gawking at the crowd moving past him. He started scanningthe halls for the most friendly looking face. Thanks to the combination of being an extremely prestigious school, and the fact that it was still painfully early, this proved to be a difficult task, as everyone looked similar to him, broken and battered, but sans the "lost" part.


Ross got the feeling that this really shouldn't be this hard.

 

[GasMaskie]

The young man stirred slightly in his bed. His body twitched and jerked about - to an untrained eye it might have appeared that he was merely experiencing a nightmare. His sharp teeth bit down on his lower lip as his face contorted into an focused expression. When the Wyrmblut had finally decided to wake, he rubbed the sleep from his weary eyes and lowered a finger to his chin. The soreness still lingered on his lips but he hadn't bitten down hard enough to break the skin.


As Reiner dragged himself towards the room's bathroom, he slammed down hard on the glass door's holographic interface. Any news about Edelhut dealing with the rifts were sure to mention that hated man. No, that was all in the past now. Today was the start of a new, hopefully happier chapter of his life. He looked back briefly at his bed from the bathroom's entrance, the young man's most prized possession lay under his pillow.


After a cold shower to rouse his mind and a quick toothbrushing, the Red Baron's grandson returned to his room and slipped on his grandfather's old fatigues. Unless he could find a store that tailored clothing for Wyrmblut, this would have to serve for his attire. His scales would shred most articles of normal clothing after all. Reiner pulled a pair of aviators from a pocket and slipped them on, ready for breakfast.


The half-dragon slowly made his way towards the cafeteria. He pat down one of the pouches on his pants, briefly feeling the cold metal ID through the cloth. There'd be no chance of bumping into a soulmate while rounding a corner in this hall. He did pick out a rather disheveled looking student around his age out of the corner of his eye, however.


"Entschuldigung. Ah rather, excuse me. Do you require aid navigating the campus?" He kept his mouth shut as much as possible to conceal his sharp teeth and the Wyrmsblut spoke with a distinct accent. Reiner vaguely remembered the directions to the cafeteria from orientation, and he had looked up DIU's campus many nights ago when he had learned that his admission had been accepted.


@BauxiteMechanism

 

[LeonardPCollins]

] Apologies for being missing all day. I started working again and they're hell bent on making me suffer ]

Creighton approached the cafeteria with only food in his mind, a hand firmly placed on top of his concave belly as if to tame his boiling hunger. It would be a lie to say that he didn't fear people hearing his stomach grumble. He stepped into the white, elongated building, and the first thing he noticed was the lack of people when there should be more.


Then again, he should remind himself that it was still summer, and classes hasn't started yet. Of course waking up early was still an option. He wished it remained an option. The high convex glass ceiling allowed the sunlight to naturally light the dining area with equal distribution across all interior surfaces thanks to molecule-level precision that refracted the light that passes through the glass. It was the shape of an oblong stitched out to match the length of the building. As for the interior, it was in the style of an arcade, with high metal columns supporting the ceiling. Along both sides of the building that stretched out the most were a number of student owned shops managed by employees og the Entrepreneurship program students or the students themselves. However, they were not always present as the entire process of cooking meals were almost always by machine. The connotation of mechanically delivered food was an outdated idea ever since sanitary and procedure technologies have improved over the years and will continue to do so.


With a multitude of menus and far more choices, he settled for a simple egg and toast combination with a side of Damascean spiced sausages. As for his choice of beverage, he was happy with a glass of iced water and a carton of milk. Of course he wasn't planning on drinking the milk and instead feed it to his cat.


He placed his order upon prompted to by a screen on the surface of the steel surface counter top and paid for his meal with a swipe of his ID card. He received his food served on a metal tray. Lifting the tray off the counter top, he spun around to start scouting out an ideal spot to study and eat. It wasn't hard to find a good number of vacant tables for the taking, given the time of the day. But, rather than characteristically heading for any of the said vacant tables, he opted for one that was occupied by an older looking student. She would have to be in her second or third year by the air that she carried. Mature, solitary, serious. Of course, he was aware of the duplicity of people, but it was unlikely he was going to start anything by just asking if he could join her table. While it may not seem that much of a task, so much as uttering more than one sentence is a feat for a recluse. Call it his almost hermit like lifestyle, but even he got tired avoiding people altogether.


He stepped up to the girl, and said, "Excuse me." Once he got her attention, he continued, "Would you mind some company?"

 

[Basement Spaghetti]

] Welcome back~ ]


Celine paused briefly. Her moments of solitude were finally over, as some schumck appeared before her asking to join her for breakfast. If this was home, it would be grounds for arrest to approach a princess without warrant. However, it was something she had been forced to grow accustomed too at the academy. She gave a polite smile, or course, and a slight bow of her head after looking up and acknowledging the boy, and said, "Feel free to sit." Her smile was forced, but to the untrained eye it appeared as genuine as could be. "I'll warn you, though, that what I'm reading isn't extremely interesting." She turned her book closed to show him the cover, the mouthful about politics and systems. How dreadfully boring indeed, even to Celine, who studied it out of pure necessity with only a minute and necessary level of interest in the whole ordeal.


Immediately upon laying eyes on the new boy, who sought out Celine for whatever reasons he might have, she began to scope him out. The shrewd politician she was, Celine knew how to acquire the hearts and minds of her loyal subjects, mostly from the look of them. He was short, incredibly so for a boy his age. Not as short as she mind you, but short nonetheless, and his frame was incredibly slight. Hell, Celine was probably more muscular than he was, although he was probably stronger due to his size. This screamed one thing at her, not only from the size of the boy, but the way he carried himself screamed "I've been bullied my whole life". After all, showing any weakness as a child led to bullying, no matter what culture you come from. Celine knew this, the boy must know this, and everyone knew this. Therefore, so long as she showed the boy kindness, she would be able to mold him like putty in her hands. And she enjoyed the art of putty-molding indeed.

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

Ross grinned as he saw a student break from the crowd, and come to his aid. A true white knight! He wasn't sure if he was a real human being, but if one thing was for certain, this guy was a real hero. As soon as he stopped talking, Ross spoke aloud to the passersby: "See? This is what you should all aspire to be! This is a prime representation of.. of uh-whatever. I just wanted to know you let me down." he said with extreme fervor. Though, the only effect that it had on the people is that some of them picked up the pace, and a very select few shot a few nasty looking faces at him.


Ross turned back to the hero, and cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, never mind that. Got a little carried away there. Yes, I am extremely lost. Mind helping me out here a bit? They told me exactly where to find the cafeteria, but somehow, I managed to end up here. Err, where is here, anyway?" Ross inquired. He suddenly realized how much of a nutcase he sounded like, but he figured that it was too early in the morning to care.


There was a bit of a pause, and if one possessed slightly more social awareness than a half-asleep Ross, one would probably call it an awkward pause, but that was completely lost on him. He used this time to examine the other student. He was as older as, or perhaps younger than him, and he seemed human, though that assumption has gotten Ross into trouble more than once. His skin seemed a little dry though, reptilian almost. Ross suddenly realized that his "examinations" resulted in him staring a little to deeply into his face, and suddenly looked away, in an attempt to preserve what little social standing he had left. He didn't need another person taking note of his eccentricities.


@GasMaskie

 

[LeonardPCollins]

] Welcome back~ ]
Celine paused briefly. Her moments of solitude were finally over, as some schumck appeared before her asking to join her for breakfast. If this was home, it would be grounds for arrest to approach a princess without warrant. However, it was something she had been forced to grow accustomed too at the academy. She gave a polite smile, or course, and a slight bow of her head after looking up and acknowledging the boy, and said, "Feel free to sit." Her smile was forced, but to the untrained eye it appeared as genuine as could be. "I'll warn you, though, that what I'm reading isn't extremely interesting." She turned her book closed to show him the cover, the mouthful about politics and systems. How dreadfully boring indeed, even to Celine, who studied it out of pure necessity with only a minute and necessary level of interest in the whole ordeal.


Immediately upon laying eyes on the new boy, who sought out Celine for whatever reasons he might have, she began to scope him out. The shrewd politician she was, Celine knew how to acquire the hearts and minds of her loyal subjects, mostly from the look of them. He was short, incredibly so for a boy his age. Not as short as she mind you, but short nonetheless, and his frame was incredibly slight. Hell, Celine was probably more muscular than he was, although he was probably stronger due to his size. This screamed one thing at her, not only from the size of the boy, but the way he carried himself screamed "I've been bullied my whole life". After all, showing any weakness as a child led to bullying, no matter what culture you come from. Celine knew this, the boy must know this, and everyone knew this. Therefore, so long as she showed the boy kindness, she would be able to mold him like putty in her hands. And she enjoyed the art of putty-molding indeed.

Creighton gave a brief pause as well before any more action could be taken. He appeared to have ever so slightly flinched when she answered him. He wasn't so sure why, but he felt as if this decision to have chosen her company in particular had been poorly made. He looked at her for a split second, but quickly shot back his eyes on the seat at her table that he was aiming for. Her polite smile seemed honest and kind enough, nothing out of place in the academy for most. But again, he reminded himself of the duplicity of some people who speak differently from what they think. All this took less than a couple of seconds, and he resumed. "T-thank you." He meekly uttered, the ever so slight nod of his head visible as he walked from her side to the seat in front of her. He first placed his tray on the table top, creating the least noise he could for the girl who seemed to be so engrossed in her studies. Then, he pulled a seat for himself, and collapsed onto the chair, knowing fully well that his frame was so light, and easy to catch. He set his carton of milk aside and laid his Pony Nexperia™ phone on the table top, facing up with only a black screen to show. He tapped on it twice, and it lit up, allowing him to swipe on the screen to enter the home page. With only the two taps, it registered his finger print and unique biometrics, allowing him access. Of course he wouldn't need the extra security features, since he didn't let anyone get near it, but it came with the phone and there was little he could do about it. He browsed thorough his files and selected a PDF on Damascean Magic Theory, On the Ether by Darnell Braun. The girl in front of him began to speak to him, something he didn't expect. He never expected anyone to. "O-oh." He murmured, but made his voice clearer and more solid when he uttered his next few syllables, "I downloaded the book some time ago, I found it interesting, a bit."


Truth be told, he wasn't totally interested in politics and such like the rest of his family. It was to be expected of them, coming from the ancient line of Hero-King Leon of Verim, and generations of philosopher-dictators. His elder sister was the political economy major in his generation, his older brother a lieutenant for the Damascean Armed Forces. As for him, he didn't know what to be interested in, or where to begin. It's doomed to end badly if he doesn't know what he could do to give back to his country, even though he wanted to do so badly. The worst that could happen is that he could end up with a job that doesn't suit or interest him. Whenever reading outside text books, Creighton found himself reading bits of everything, from art to politics. What he studies in his downtime is subject to his torrential interest that never seems to focus on just one category at any given time. This was a weakness that manifested in his grades that were very poor in the earliest parts of his formal education. He has since learned to curb his impetuous curiosity thanks to the continued tutelage of his older sister, however, enough to at least reach the level he was in now.


Creighton would return to his cellphone screen, while he began poking at his food. He didn't look up, but an uncomfortable feeling emanated from the direction of the girl in front of him, as if he were being watched, judged. Call it a hunch, but he began to think that she was summing him up, as if she were appraising him in one way or another. The sensation bothered him very little, as it was a feeling he was not unfamiliar with. While he was unsure of what to make of this uncertainty with the character in front of him, he was hoping for a more pleasant meal, especially that of the most important one of the day. He would eventually ignore everything else apart from the text written on his phone as he absorbed what he could from his study material with his knowledge of the Arcane lexicon.

 

[GasMaskie]

"Certainly. You made it half-way there, but I suppose it is rather difficult to tell where you're going in such a crowded hall. Should only be a few more minutes until we reach our destination." He offered a slight, tight-lipped smile and adjusted his shades as he turned to continue on his way to the cafeteria.


The Wyrmsblut pushed back into the crowd, drawing the ire of some people who weren't intimidated by his out of place attire. Still, it couldn't be helped - it's not as if he was used to interacting with people who weren't related to him. Reiner scratched one of his small horns as he craned back to make sure that the wayward young man was still following him.


"Mein Name ist Reiner Volks. I hail from Edelhut." Reiner's face slipped into a toothy grin, perhaps a clearer indicator of his species. Getting used to the language here would take quite a while, although the two languages were phonetically similar in some regards.


From the few glances that he exchanged with Ross, the Wyrmsblut had a creeping suspicion that he'd be interacting with him quite often in the future. Maybe he had read too much of those imported comics that were widely circulated around the web, but he was absolutely certain that this guy wasn't just some one-off character who'd disappear into the background. Maybe it was his distinct appearance. Or the boisterous outbursts. As Reiner shifted his gaze back in front of him he couldn't help but smile - perhaps this would be an entertaining year with people like him around.


@BauxiteMechanism

 

[Basement Spaghetti]

Celine smiled as the boy sat, and the moment a word left his mouth she instantly knew she was correct. The poor kid was practically shaking! Celine may have been intense, but her stature made her completely unimposing. However, there was something strange about this boy, and it was something she swore she should have known. He seemed familiar, like she had run into the boy before, or perhaps seen his photo in some sort of book. A listing perhaps? The more she wondered the closer she felt she was arriving at an answer, but she gave up after a moment and went back to conversing with the boy, who had given his shaky response.


"I've never been much of a fan of reading from a screen." She rubbed the back of her head, chuckling gently. "They give me headaches. You'd figure that in this country I'd have been used to it by now, but I just can't get myself on the whole 'reading into the future' mumbo jumbo." She closed her textbook, and rested her elbows on either side of it, clasping her hands at the top. She opened her palms and rested her chin there, and stared at the boy. Test number one; finding out how uncomfortable eye contact makes him. Test number one point five; find out how uncomfortable girls make him.


"You know, I'm really good at remembering people, friend," she began, continuing to maintain slightly above normal levels of eye contact with the boy. "Where have we met? Or, at the very least, where were you in the stuff they gave me to study before coming here from Danaa?" Celine gently scratched her temple, looking away briefly. "It's been bothering me since you sat down."

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

(Sorry for the delay! Got some mysterious fever on Christmas, and it knocked me offline for a bit.)


"Nice! I knew ambition and blind fury would actually lead me somewhere! Or at least the 'blind' part did." Ross started to pipe down and mellow out a bit. Perhaps because he'd finally woken up fully, or that he began to noticed that he was starting to look a bit silly. He is a professional, professionals shouldn't get lost! And professionals don't make bad jokes either! But in his defense, this was his first day. Though Ross was no narcissist. His own social awkwardness wasn't the only thing he took notice of. He also noticed that his new companion wasn't exactly as human as he thought. Either that, or the dude went to town on his teeth with a nail-filer one night, and never looked back since, or he wasn't human. But that wasn't going to stop Ross! What, did you think Ross was some sort of racist?! What's wrong with you? It's almost the 22 century!


"So Edelhut huh?" Ross said, trying his hand at idle conversation as he trailed behind Reiner, ignoring the crowd's attempts at jostling him. "That's pretty cool. I'm from uh... Well, my parents are from the neighboring countries of Ibul and Baetyl, but I was born here. Unlike you, I never picked up a dialect or language. But between you and me, I think my parents specifically didn't teach me their language just so they can talk about me right to my face." Ross paused, suddenly thinking back to all those childhood memories of his parents looking at him then looking away only to sigh and bang on about him in their own hidden language. It seemed that he discovered the first of many childhood conspiracies.


"I guess that makes me sort of a mutt, doesn't it? Oh well, I heard mutts live longer anyways. So where did you say the cafeteria was again?"


@GasMaskie

 

[GasMaskie]

The pair passed through the hall and out onto the open campus. From there, the cafeteria was only a few meters away. He grinned, slightly amused by the reasoning of his companion's parents.


"Right over there - for some reason it lacks automatic doors. A sign of its age perhaps?" Reiner brought a hand to his chin and tilted his head slightly. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed to have traditional doors in a place with high traffic each and every day.


"Do you happen to know the area well? I was hoping to go looking for a shop that sold model kits - for now, I am unable to properly train until my equipment is delivered." The Wyrmsblut looked back at his companion once more before snapping his vision back in front of him. In the time it took him to speak, they had reached the cafeteria and the door almost seemed to suddenly leap in front of him.


He had a moment to act before he'd slam into the door, possibly damaging it and ruining his introduction week - not to mention looking like a klutz in front of all of his potential friends. The Wyrmsblut rehearsed his actions in a split-second, he'd move his hands forward and simply use the momentum of his step to push through the doorway without missing a bea-


Ah. I tripped. He tripped and as he fell Reiner pushed his hands against the two doors that swung inside. The doors were thrown open and slammed against the wall with a loud THUD that echoed throughout the large space. The Wyrmsblut could feel the sudden shift of gazes towards him. Tripping now would only make things worse. He grit his teeth with a snarl and slammed one foot out in front of him to regain his balance. Reiner's eyes shifted from the floor to the faces of those who were likely to have witnessed his blunder. He took a quick, rasping breath as quietly as he could and remained in a half crouching position before slowly standing up to pretend as if nothing had happened. He grimaced slightly as he lifted up his chin and quickly made his way to the food.


Those close enough to the door saw the face of what could only be described as a natural-born killer that day. Sharpened fangs lined the young man's mouth and his eyes almost seemed to bulge out as his intense glare took aim at each and everyone one of them. They could hear a low growl emerge from the Wyrmsblut's mouth. He was crouched down, almost as if he was going to come at them with a knife hidden away in that old uniform. And when he stood - it seemed like the young man seemed to give a disappointed frown and a disgusted, pitying look as if none of them had what it took to sate his bloodlust. Needless to say, this would be Reiner's terrible first impression upon a majority of the student body.


@BauxiteMechanism

 

[One Mean Ghost]

​

There were some things that Kuro believed he would never quite adjust to. The first of which was constantly being awoken by a rather annoying hologram that, without fail, startled him from his sleep every morning, causing him to jump up and perch himself on the headboard of his bed, his tail swishing angrily behind him as he glared at the hologram. He crouched low before pouncing on the device, jamming his finger to the button to shut it off. "I really need to find a way to disable this damned thing.." Kuro muttered running a clawed hand through his hair to get it out of his face. He glared at the now blank glass door, flicking his tail at it in a 'so there!' fashion before he strode into the bathroom, narrowing his eyes at the next obstacle he had to deal with....


The shower pod.. Why did everything have to be so high tech here? Even after a full year here, he had yet to really get the hang of any of the tech... The shower pod had so many buttons and such on it that he still struggled with it. He stepped into the shower, pressing a button and immediately cursing rather loudly as ice cold water froze his skin. He leaped straight up, his claws digging into the ceiling as he clung to it as his tail pressed around the buttons trying to find out how to warm up the water.. Numerous similar claw marks in the ceiling indicated this was NOT the first time this had happened, and it likely would not be the last.... Once the water finally was warmed up, he lowered himself back into the shower pod, retracting his claws as he washed up.


With his shower finished, he stepped out of the pod and slammed his hand down on the power button to turn it off. He walked over to the mirror, combing his hair back into a half ponytail before he stepped out to get dressed. He pulled on the traditional school uniform, leaving the jacket unzipped before he tied a purple sash over his shoulders, sighing softly as he looked at himself in the mirror. His mind wandered to the family he lost, a soft smile crossing his lips as he remembered his days as a performer with his beloved family... But they were gone now, as was the smile that had momentarily graced his lips. Kuro shook the thought from his head, turning now and leaving his room, his tail swishing behind him.


By now, Kuro had gotten somewhat used to the looks he would get. Gatomen were, for lack of a better term, usually known as Gypsies. For one to stay in one place was practically unheard of, much less for one to actually have gotten into DIU. He had grown quite accustomed to stares from newer students, many of the older ones at least were adjusted to him. He made his way towards the cafeteria, his dark boots making almost no sound on the ground as he saw the doors open already, and a youth tripping into the doorways.


Seems some of the first years had beaten him to breakfast... Oh well... "Passing above..." Kuro called, deftly hopping over the individual that stood up, flipping once through the air before landing inside the cafeteria in front of the boy without paying him much mind at all. His tail swishing casually behind him and his hands in his pockets as he meandered into the cafeteria, his golden eyes scanning those seated as he walked in to grab some breakfast. He made his way to the line, his tray soon piled high with bacon, some breakfast steak, a couple biscuits, and some fried potatoes. He was, as some might expect, primarily carnivorous. He didn't much care for things green and leafy... Last but not least, he grabbed a carton of milk and a cup of coffee, making his way to an empty seat against the wall.


He sat himself down with his back against the wall, pouring about half the milk carton into his coffee before loading it up with sugar, stirring the mixture as he munched on a piece of bacon, his golden eyes just watching all of those gathered. This had become, in a way, his spot. No one else really ever chose to sat in this particular corner. Whether or not that was because of the usual prejudice against Gatomen for their strange ways or just because no one else liked sitting in a corner, Kuro never bothered to find out.


As he started to dig into his steak, his eyes glowed a brighter gold than normal as several Gatomen appeared in the seats around his table. He always seemed to do this. No one knew who the Gatomen were supposed to be, but older students had figured out by now it was an illusion. For Kuro, it was how he kept his family's memory alive. One of the Gatomen looked like an older version of him, complete with greying hair and a goatee. This individual was his father, still wearing the purple sash that Kuro now wore. The woman next to him had his eyes, or more appropriately, he had hers. She had a peaceful, quiet appearance to her, as one might guess, this was his mother. Her hair was long, hanging halfway down her back as she sat quietly with her hands crossed in her lap... Across from them were three children, varying in ages between 5 and 14. Those were his siblings, looking in various aspects to be a combination of the two parents. The elder two were his brothers, the youngest, his little sister.


He smiled softly to himself as he ate. He missed them so much... Even his illusions could not alleviate that pain much. After all, the illusions had no substance. He couldn't feel their touch again. They couldn't answer him more than what he made them answer. All they were was memories. Memories he would never let die.


He could never allow himself to forget how he had failed to save them...

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

Ross could only watch as his guide had a bit of a spill, and let gravity get the better of him. Until he saw the look on the Wymsblut's face, he had actually started to snicker , but the second he had hit the ground, and started to emit what sounded like a low snarl, Ross' face dropped near-immediately, and even took a step back. Ross knew that he took social blunders seriously, but this was a whole new echelon of intense. He wasn't even sure what to do a first. He wanted to go forth and help the guy up, but his face was etched with the look of murder; Ross could almost see the fire gouting from his eyes. Perhaps talking incessantly isn't the key to helping this man out. No, that's not it, Ross' subconscious wouldn't allow a break in conversation for a minute.


"Hey, you doing okay? I didn't see-ohokay." Ross suddenly went quiet as Reiner gave him a look that screamed "not now, not ever". Ross then decided that it would be better if he had just went for a silent breakfast.


Ross glumly followed behind Reiner through the breakfast line, picking up a tray and disposable utensils on the way. Looking over the various piles of food that before him, his cynical mind immediately tried guess how much of it was either freeze-dried, or loaded with preservatives, and kept in the back of the kitchen for thousands of years. It didn't make the food look any less appetizing though! Sure, the eggs were a little more yellow than usual, and he didn't know that apples came in that shade of magenta, but hell, it wasn't going to stop him from taking it. Plus, with the line moving as fast as it did, he couldn't exactly stop to think and check each boiled egg to make sure that the chickens were free range, or something similar to that.


After he loaded up his tray with two fruit that he didn't immediately recognize, a few boiled eggs, something that looked vaguely similar to hash browns, and a cholesterol warning citation on his phone, he followed Reiner around the dining area. Despite being the one that led him here, he seemed almost lost, though not in the physical sense. Ross kept his oath of silence as he let him decide where he wanted to sit.


@GasMaskie

 

[GasMaskie]

The Wyrmblut took a seat at an empty table and carefully began to cut into his scrambled eggs with a spoon. The way his hands moved were clear indicators of a noble upbringing. He kept the strips of bacon and not-quite hash browns separated on the other side of the plate. Silently, Reiner was ashamed by his own clumsiness. Not once had he ever tripped in front of his grandfather, nor did he ever mess up while scaling the mountains.


He took a chomp out of a strip, the bacon wasn't terrible but it wasn't noteworthy either. He pouted as he chewed, while he hadn't fallen on his face he did end up showing them a rather disturbing face that was common among his people. Maybe that's why we're equated to dragons... Reiner mused as he stabbed a fork into the eggs and popped it into his mouth.


"Tch, I'll need to see if these boots need to be re-fitted. I never caught your name, by the way." He looked up towards his companion, hoping to lighten his own mood with some light smalltalk. He gazed around the room, taking note of the Damascean royalty sitting next to an elf that seemed vaguely familiar. It would probably be for the best if he avoided interacting with them - this school seemed like the perfect place for international relations to start crumbling.


@BauxiteMechanism

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

"Ross, my name is Ross. It's Ross Jennings if you want to get all specific, but short of my mother, and a few angry instructors, my surname is rarely used." Ross didn't hesitate to speak. Sure, he was slightly perturbed by Reiner's last reaction, but Ross never wastes an opportunity to speak. "But uh, if I may ask-" he said, waiting for Reiner to cut him off. Though to Ross' surprise, the interruption never occurred. With that, he continued with his spiel "-If I may ask, what was the whole thing back there? You looked like you were out for blood! I know that's not the case, but y'know. I didn't know how to react with the whole-" Ross lifted his hands, and splayed out his fingers while a toothy scowl crept across his face.


"I hope I didn't just offend you with that." he said, in a moment of sudden self realization.


Ross looked back down at his tray, picked up one of the boiled eggs, and jammed the thing in his mouth. If Reiner doesn't bite him in the jugular in the next two minutes, he'll assume that the answer to that was a "yes".


"Sorry if I'm talking too much. It's just been a... weird morning." He added after a moment of silence and reflection. Admittedly, the "silence" outweighed the "reflection".

 

[GasMaskie]

"Nein, that was just the face I make while concentrating. In any case, it was my fault for not looking ahead. A mistake like that would have cost me my life if I was in a dogfight." He ate a spoonful of the hash browns next and chased it down his throat with some milk. Perhaps he'd try to find a fast food restaurant that sold breakfast sandwiches later.


"I enjoy the lack of silence Ross. Back in Edelhut, it was mostly just me and my grandfather. And when I wasn't with him I was climbing by myself." He took a napkin from a nearby dispenser and wiped his mouth before continuing to speak.


"What'd you take up as your elective? I ended up picking creative writing at the last minute." He lied. There were other things he wanted to do besides becoming a full-fledged Dragoon.

 

[LeonardPCollins]

Celine smiled as the boy sat, and the moment a word left his mouth she instantly knew she was correct. The poor kid was practically shaking! Celine may have been intense, but her stature made her completely unimposing. However, there was something strange about this boy, and it was something she swore she should have known. He seemed familiar, like she had run into the boy before, or perhaps seen his photo in some sort of book. A listing perhaps? The more she wondered the closer she felt she was arriving at an answer, but she gave up after a moment and went back to conversing with the boy, who had given his shaky response.
"I've never been much of a fan of reading from a screen." She rubbed the back of her head, chuckling gently. "They give me headaches. You'd figure that in this country I'd have been used to it by now, but I just can't get myself on the whole 'reading into the future' mumbo jumbo." She closed her textbook, and rested her elbows on either side of it, clasping her hands at the top. She opened her palms and rested her chin there, and stared at the boy. Test number one; finding out how uncomfortable eye contact makes him. Test number one point five; find out how uncomfortable girls make him.


"You know, I'm really good at remembering people, friend," she began, continuing to maintain slightly above normal levels of eye contact with the boy. "Where have we met? Or, at the very least, where were you in the stuff they gave me to study before coming here from Danaa?" Celine gently scratched her temple, looking away briefly. "It's been bothering me since you sat down."

creighton r.

From a feeling of being judged by piercing eyes, came the sensation of being peered into, now not only looking for what he was, but also who he was. This level of perception was mostly his paranoia of being followed or being stared at, though he suspected something else, and thought little of it, enough for him to just relax in the presence of others. Perhaps this was nothing special for normal conversation? He wouldn't know. Normal conversation was something he avoided for a long time, perhaps far too long, which led him to this situation.


It was by reflex that he looked up at the girl when he realized he had been staring too deeply into his mishmash of potatoes and sausages. Her eyes seemed to be, as he expected, looking deep into him, as if looking for an answer. It made him freeze, not out of fear or surprise, but out of uncertainty. He wasn't sure as to what to do. Should he maintain eye contact? For how long should he? His eyes started to wander away form the girl's before it turned into a staring contest. In all honesty, he wasn't too keen on starting one, or even maintaining constant connection for an extended period of time, for either boy or girl. He never really fancied talking to either. This was something that he wished to change, though he was far too shy even for himself to openly admit it. When she commented on her preference of paper books, rather than digital readers he perked up. "I-is that so?" He said, even though it was clear to him, what with her holding a paper book in her hands. He found it interesting but not out of place that someone would prefer a hard copy of a book. Each to their own, he supposed. He wondered why she commented on it in the first place. Was it to get his opinion? Or was it an innocent comment straight spoken right off the bat? Was he reading too deep into her? "Yeah, I suppose it has some disadvantages. But the thing about technology is that it can get better." He supposed he gave his stand on the taste on high-tech versus old-fashioned. It was fine by him. Letting someone know what he thought was... oddly satisfying.


He watched her position herself into another pose, where she leaned in and put her chin in her palms. What was with the sudden change? Did he do something that merited this action? It was harder to maintain what little eye contact he had with her, not only that but he was feeling unseasonably warm from this level of attention. He didn't want to be rude, or unappreciative or whatever may ruin the momentum they had going, so he didn't mention anything, but he had a suspicion that she could see clearly as to what he really felt.

"You know, I'm really good at remembering faces, friend."

​

"I-is that so?" He fidgeted. He never remembered being on the news, or being published, at least as far as his memory serves. It wasn't like his family, or any of the royal families for that matter, were in power anymore. He had to make a stand, so he decided to go with an introduction, to clarify any ambiguities. "I didn't introduce myself, I think" He said on top of her recent comments, making sure his next words would be clear, "I'm Creighton. I'm entering high school this year."

 

[One Mean Ghost]

​

Kuro looked up as three first years approached him. The one in the middle was a tad shorter, stockier, and had an air of imagined superiority about him... The boys to either side flanked him like two towers, both built stronger, almost a Neanderthal look to them. Clearly they weren't locals, though where they were from, Kuro could only guess at. Despite his prior life as a Gypsy, he had never made much of a point to knowing what local people looked like. All he knew, was that these three apparently wanted his attention, and not in a good way..


The middle one strode up to the table, seemingly occupied by a family of Gatomen as he pulled the chair that held the illusion of Kuro's sister, sending it, and the girl, flying aside. The girl cried out convincingly as she hit the ground behind them before she faded from view... These particular illusions, for Kuro, had taken on a life of their own. It was a reflex to make them respond just as the real deal had, something he did without even thinking about it. To a point, the illusions were real to him in that respect.


And in that respect, this bastard had just thrown his little sister...


"I don't know what you think you're doing here, cat..." He spat out the last word, indicating its purpose as an insult. "But I thought one of your kind would know you aren't wanted anywhere" He sneered..


The rest of the Gatomen stood up and left the table, moving out of their view before vanishing from existence, though Kuro remained seated, eating as if the bullies were not there. He would not stoop to their level if he could avoid it. If he ignored them, they would get bored and leave, Right?


Wrong....


"Oh..... The big bad pussy cat thinks he can ignore me? Clearly he doesn't know who he's dealing with, does he boys?" He snickered, the lumbering brutes on either side of him grunting in what Kuro could only assume was the closest thing they could manage to a laugh. How those two got in here, he could only guess at... Obviously their intelligence was lacking, so their actual abilities must be rather good...


The boy in the middle snapped his fingers, "Get him..." The two brutes moved around the table to get to him. Kuro sighed, his golden eyes closing for a moment. Clearly a fight was inevitable...


Just as the two boys reached him, he leaped over the table, shocking the leader of the trio as the Gatoman tackled him to the ground. His golden eyes flashed with malice as his fist raised, coming down again and again on the hapless boy. First, this boy had thrown his sister, then, he had ordered his goons to attack him without provocation...


The fool was lucky his goons were around. Kuro hissed as he felt each of his arms put into what felt like a vice as the goons pulled him off their leader. The guy stood up, his face bruised, bleeding, and a few teeth were clearly missing. "You think you can attack Edward St. Vincent like that and get away with it?!" The boy screeched, his shrill voice seeming to echo in the cafeteria now.. "I'm going to make you regret ever being born..." He hissed in Kuro's face.


Kuro gave no answer, his tail flicking behind him in a fashion that betrayed the hostility Kuro's face kept hidden for the moment.


Edward strode up to him, pulling back a fist and punching Kuro square on the cheek, turning the Gatoman's head before another punch turned it the other way. Next a knee came crashing into Kuro's ribs, though the Gatoman still made no sound. He wasn't going to give this smug little punk any satisfaction like that...


Although Kuro was a second year, and had shown a great deal of promise in his first hand to hand course, the two brutes holding his arms were clearly physically stronger than him. He had to be smart here, even if it meant taking a few hits. With each hit, his arms twisted just a little, so his palms could rest on the arms of the brutes that held him.


Edward smirked, grabbing a handful of Kuro's hair to lift the Gatoman's face up. "Not so tough now, are you, you damn cat..." He sneered, seeming to take some kind of sick satisfaction in this game. Kuro was well aware that there were many who viewed Gatomen as lesser beings, given their propensity to be Gypsies. He knew, at times, this superiority complex manifested itself in violent ways. Normally, Gatomen would just avoid the conflict and continue on their way. After all, they never stayed in one place long enough for it to be a problem.


But Kuroneko couldn't leave. He had to get stronger to make those otherworldly creatures from the Rifts pay... If that meant he had to fight punks like this... So be it..


"Well, got anything to say? Oh... I know..." Edward's grin spread to almost psychotic proportions as he strode to the table, picking up the steak knife Kuro had been using moments before. "How's about I cut those disgusting ears off.... maybe your tail next?.. Then you'll be in line with the rest of us and learn your place....." He sneered, holding the knife up where Kuro could see it, slowly moving it towards one of Kuro's ears as they lay flat on his head.


It was now, or never.


He extended his claws, digging them into the arms of his captors, causing them both to cry out and release him. He roared, throwing himself at his assailant as his claws cleaved deep gashes in the guy's chest. Caught by surprise, Edward had stabbed at random, the knife embedded in Kuro's side, though the wound was minor compared to the slashing Kuro had given Edward.


Edward fell back, clutching his bleeding chest as he tried to scoot away from Kuro, who was slowly walking towards him with pure anger in his gaze, ignoring the blood that soaked his side from the knife still embedded in him. Just before he could descend upon his prey, a metal tray clanged loudly off the back of his head, dropping him to his knees before a steel toe boot crashed into his side, sending him skidding across the floor before he managed to roll to his feet, panting softly as he stared down his three attackers.


One on one, Kuro could probably take them. But this was three on one.... In a fair fight, Kuro barely stood a chance, but they were clearly fighting dirty.


So that just meant Kuro needed to get crafty....


His eyes started to glow, his lips moving as incantations seemed to fill the air. It would appear, at first glance, to be some sort of conjuration or summoning magic.. The ground ripped apart, skeletal hellcats climbing up from the ground as the smell of brimstone seemed to fill the air. The hellcats looked like something out of a nightmare. They appeared to be the skeletons of massive felines, some flesh still falling from their bones with their entire form consumed by black hellfire. Edward took a step back, his eyes widening in fear as he backed up until he was against the wall. He turned his head, looking for his backup, but they were seen screaming as they fled the cafeteria. He was alone, against five hellcats and a pissed off Gatoman..


Kuro walked up to Edward calmly, his golden eyes staring directly into the frightened gaze of the first year. "Run.... Now... before I really lose my temper...." Kuro hissed... The faint smell of urine filled the air. Edward quickly dashed away from the threat, a dark spot in the front of his pants revealing the source of the smell. Once Edward was gone, the intricate illusion Kuro had created faded. The hellcats, the cracks in the ground they had come from, and the smell of brimstone all seemed to vanish at once, leaving no sign that any of that had happened.


Well, aside from Kuro standing with a knife in his side, his tail swishing around behind him. He closed his eyes, ignoring what he knew would likely be numerous stares as he reached down, pulling the knife from his side before walking over to the tray turn in. It was a carousel style device. Students set their trays into the various slots as the machine took the trays to the kitchen to be cleaned. He set the knife on a tray already occupying a slot, turning calmly to acquire a new one from the dispenser before walking calmly to his seat, seeming to not notice that his blood dripped on the ground with every other step he took. Kuro picked up the chairs that had been disturbed in the fight before returning at last to his seat, ignoring the wound in his side as he set about finishing his meal.


He kept his gaze down at his plate. He didn't need to look to know the whole cafeteria likely saw that. He didn't mean to draw that kind of attention to himself, but sadly, it had been unavoidable. Prejudice against Gatomen, it seemed, even occurred here.


Kuro's tail was hanging low, his ears flat on his head. His whole body seemed tense as he ate in solitude, hoping that no one else would start up anything with him. He had hoped upon arrival that he could skate by under the radar. Unfortunately, any hopes of that happening now were long gone.


So much for starting off the year on a good note...

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

Ross silently exhaled and slightly slouched forward, resting his elbows back on the table/ Turns out that the tension had him unconsciously holding his breath. Now that his paranoia has finally went on and slithered off, he could actually start to enjoy breakfast this time around.


"Oh, well that's a relief, for a second there, I thought I was starting to bother you. If you didn't notice from our friends in the hall a few minutes back, I'm a little more skilled at annoying people than I should be." Ross said that last part in the tone of used car salesman. Confident, but probably hiding something crucial.


"Anyway, I went ahead and took horticulture. Yeah, ferns. That'll make me seem real intimidating, right? Admittedly, mine wasn't exactly last minute. I've been gardening for awhile now. just a personal little hobby that distracts me from my other slightly more distasteful hobbies. Don't get me wrong! I'm not like a serial killer or an arsonist or anything."


Ross chuckled slightly and looked away, and mused something barely audible.


"Well, not a large-time arsonist."


That had a nice ring to it. 'not a large time arsonist'. Not something you'd want to say to a policeman, but it's still something! It's not like he set those fires on purpose, anyway.


@GasMaskie