Persona- Overpowering Past

Thursday Night
Court of Miracles- Almost at an end.
Near the 'School'

“Yep, it's broken. Tell me again what happened, Randy.” Wulfgard ordered, wrapping a large bandage around the boy's left arm. Neither of the men were in good condition, but Wulfgard's dirty clothes and sweaty forehead were nothing compared to Randy. A trickle of blood was falling from his grinning mouth, his jacket's leather arms were ripped straight through and were hanging on by a thread, and his goggles were severely cracked. The ghastly yellow light cast by the moon just made it look worse.

“Well, I decided to patrol inside of the school after making sure everything out here was clear” Randy stated. Taking a pause he looked to his right and spit out a large wad of red saliva mixed with blood. “It wasn't so bad, I was holding my own, but then I saw this big shadow... almost looked like a pitch black Hulk Hogan wearing one of those creepy blue masks on his eyes. He charged at me, we traded blows, and in the end it died and I was near dead. Good thing Liza saw me go in and followed or I would be toast. In the end, I still look like this after all of her magic was spent, but it's not biggie. I'll just wait until the next Court for Snow to get on duty. Then I can fix my arm here.”

Wulfgard silently shook his head, and pulled Randy's bandage tighter, making the teen wince. “Dumbass, never go anywhere alone. Even if it seems calm, it's just because there's a bigger shadow hanging around.” Standing up from the ground, Wulfgard looked around to find the only other person on patrol tonight, Liza. After recently being introduced to the court she was taking this all in surprisingly well... although she was uncomfortable around too many people.

“And we can't just wait for the next Court. The way a Persona's healing magic works is that it returns you to the same state you were when you entered. It's applying order per-say. If you enter with a broken arm, your arm is staying broken. Now Liza's out of juice, and I can't heal with my Persona. It looks like your going to have to deal with it, dipshit.” Garret reprimanded almost yelling. After a second however he seemed to calm down and spoke in a much more tame voice. “Stop by the pharmacy tomorrow, I'll slip you some painkillers. But until your arm's better I don't want you going on patrol every night like you've been doing. In fact, I would prefer you not come at all.”

Randy nodded and stood up looking dejected. It wasn't the broken arm that bothered him, it was not being able to help the others that did it. Looking over towards Liza, he nodded, “Thanks. I would have kicked it back there without you.” And with that, the moon became fully eclipsed, and Randy found himself lying down in his own bed, his arm still in pain and his jacket torn.

“Great... just great. Finally something I like and I'm good at and I'm stuck on either support or in bed. I hope I don't miss anything”. Of course, this wish would be unfulfilled. After a week of simple patrolling and breaking in the new recruits, the Court of Miracles was planning on going 'all out' the very next night. On Friday.

-

(OOC: Alright everyone, when you begin your post, Friday afternoon has come and everyone should be waiting in their homeroom for the bell to ring. Past members, try to fill in the blanks of what you have been doing for the past week. New members, do the same, but don't mention the Court... you have no idea what it is. Mr. Testa is finishing up telling a thrilling tale of a trip to Russia and Miss Halls is trying to grade tests and wants any conversation to be at whisper level or lower. Remember, if you're lost, read up on the past thread or PM me if you can't find it. Sorry for the strange start up post, but everything that could go wrong in the past week and a half has... so enjoy, and I hope to keep going once we have a good start. Randy's arm is in a sling in class and is telling other people it was broken in a game of 'Extreme Red Rover')

 

Russell Wilton
Miss Halls Homeroom (Friday Afternoon)

It was Friday afternoon in Miss Halls’ homeroom; and everyone was either quiet or whispering quietly to one another as the waited to be released from their class. Russell, the red-headed boy, was the latter one; he sat in the front room far right of the room. His arms crossed on top of the desk’s top with his head resting on top of that. It had been a very unfruitful week. He hadn’t found his cousin yet and hadn’t really made any friends… he might have come off as little hot-headed when that guy called him: Shorty. Also he still hadn’t decided on any clubs… Digging through his bag, he pulled out a list of them and examined them again.

Russell had no idea what Athletic club he should joined, he just wasn’t an athlete nor did he have the height or built for anything. The only thing that he thought he may be able to do was Swimming Club but he only knew how to swim well enough to not drown if he fell into deep water... In the Art Club section there were a few things that caught his interest. Band though he had no experience in playing anything but a recorder which he was told wasn’t a real instrument, Sewing... though as a young teenage boy he would be too embarrass to join, Drama Club was something he always wanted to join but never did and Art Club sounded quite interesting but he really couldn’t draw that well... He wished there was a Cooking Club that would a club he would love to join but no there wasn’t one only one really strange club... the Bagpipe Club... He almost wanted to go there just to see what kind of people (if anyone) joins it...

After staring at the list before him, his mostly blue eyes turned up toward the clock. He squinted his blue eyes a little as he tried to read the time... Leaving time was still quite a bit a way; time just seemed to tick slower when you have nothing to do... He thought about what he should do today after school... Maybe he’d hurry to the dorm and stake it out to see if he could spot Brent... He’ll have to do some homework just so he won’t look too... stalker-ish. At the same time maybe he should try to make a friend, it would be a long and boring school year if didn’t make at least one. With that decided he neatly folder the club sheet and put it back into his backpack. He then returned to resting his head on his desk as he quietly waited for the day to end.

 

Sigmund Okonkwo
Bellow High, Ms. Halls' homeroom [Friday Afternoon]


The end of Friday. Normally, it was relieving for anybody still involved in school - the weekend was always supposed to be a chance to relax, kick back and deftly avoid anything and everything the teachers had assigned.

Normally.

Things weren't exactly normal anymore, though. At least not for Snow, Sofiya and him - and Sigmund could pick out another pair in the room that he recognized from their little band. Since last Friday night, they had been continually exhausted by consistently staying up past midnight and fighting something they still only understood at a very basic level. Weekends were the worst, really - if Wulfgard's handling of the last one was any indication, they would spend most of it just wearing themselves out, learning to fight better. Yes, that was critically important right now, but couldn't they at least start taking the nights in turns to take the edge off? They had almost all been working at that on their own, anyway, and learning from the MMA club after school. At least he didn't have a meeting today, or he would definitely be worn down by the time the Court started.

He presumably wasn't the only one worn down already - he had noticed Randy around the school with his arm in a sling earlier in the day - doubtless he had come up with some crazy awesome cover-up story to explain it away. He might want to hear both versions of the story behind his arm later - that guy was practically built to handle this sort of crazy action-movie type of situation. Shame he would be out of action for a while. Hopefully they could keep up without him, because Sigmund really didn't want to have to fall back on using his Persona...

Sigmund shuddered and turned to at the classmate sitting just one seat ahead and one to the right of him. Time to turn his thoughts elsewhere. Leaning forward, he bumped the student's shoulder with the inside of his fist - just enough to get his attention and careful not to hit the sore areas on his knuckles.

"Hey, Snow," Sig murmured just above a whisper, "You think the wolf man will let us have a bit of the weekend off? I wouldn't mind getting free long enough to hit an arcade or something..."

 

JP </3 Lovers Arcana
<// Bellow High Dormitories' Vicinity \\>

A punch flies through the air and countless drops of sweat fly all around landing in the green, trampled foliage. The boy makes a full spin, jumps in the air and kicks the padded tree, the bark cracking and breaking off in certain, previously battered points.

This was his little private gym, where he could practice alone from prying eyes while at the same time accompanied by nature, quite possibly the only mom he’d ever had.

He does a series of complicated stunts, running the different poses and sequences in his mind, imagining trampled shadows given form littering the earth, all the while avoiding his tank top and leather jacket (items he’d lay down on the ground since he no longer felt adequate working out with his top on, for some very weird and totally not ego related reason.)

Sweat dripped from his hair and coated his every being, but for now, he was satisfied.

And he could tell Pedro was too.

It was a shame he had no place to practice his swordsmanship skills, and that irritated him. It was perhaps yet another fact to add to the pile of anxiety that had been built up in him for the past days. The Court of Miracles has been the only thing on JP’s mind, and rightfully so. The damn place was madness incarnate, quite often JP’d wondered if he’d gone insane and this was but a mental adventure.

But that was not the truth, and he knew it. He felt this being real. Too real. People had died so real it was. But that was what he was there for, to stop it from happening again.

Court Of Miracles was a fitting name, at least. There, this unwilly bunch of misfits was dragged to fight against humanities failures, and given the power of their inner accomplishments taken form.

Yeah, that seemed like a cool and poetic way to put it.

And what was JP’s inner self? What form had his best traits, his hopes, his hidden fears, his true self taken?

That of a bloodthirsty, heartbroken king. And somehow, he liked it. The creature had a mind of his own, and new power unlike something JP could ever hold. Pedro himself was strong, imposing and commanding of the highest respect; his abilities were the reason JP didn’t die four times already, give or take a surprise attack the others stopped before JP even noticed. Fighting Mayas and the occasional higher ranked shadow was one thing, it almost easy at time, but whenever he’d let his guard down he’d almost died. The very first day (not counting Firday,) he would have been choked to death had Pedro not manifested.

It had not been the last time he’d done so: Every now and again, the Persona would rise up, unordered, and instill in the teen the belief he had the strength he wishes for. It was always a powerful experience, like a fusion of the minds of sorts. It was different from physically calling Pedro, too. When he used his Evoker, he had to manufacture the emotions of a victor. When Pedro awakens himself, the fire in JP’s heart comes along with him.

A chilly breeze whips through the trees. The boy shudders, his skin becoming suddenly aware of the temperature and, by extension, he took notice of how late it was. He picked up his clothes, put them on and headed to the dorm.

His stomach rumbled partway, though, and he made his way to the cafeteria, the place where it all started. There, he thought about the events of this past week (undoubtedly the longest week of his life) while he waited for his hot chocolate to cool.

He hadn’t even noticed where he sat; not consciously anyway. His mind went to think about their lost partner, Diego, while his fingers, heavy with guilt, played with the pocketwatch he’d just removed from his jacket. The blood stain on the glass was nearly gone, but still very noticeable (the only vestige of the court to make its way to this reality.)

As time passed, and his hot chocolate started diminishing, his thoughts startled dabbling on the others: his “team.” He gossiped with himself, laughing at Sofiya’s clutzness and kind heart, grimacing when he remembered his friendly rivalry with Mana, quickly dismissing any thoughts on Josh, dear God, and passing by Theresa, and how she made his heart falter and swell on different occasions.

Then, his mind stopped at Randy. The loud, shovel wielding warrior with the power to give speeches like a boss. There was something odd, yet reassuring about him. Power wise, he’s the only one capable of being considered an equal by JP, bar Wulfgard. But that wasn’t what made him stand out, what made him look so trustworthy…

JP fetched for his cellphone and looked through his address book. He had everyone’s number there, he had made sure he had them just in case. He found the Crimson Beasts leader’s name and started typing a message:

“Hey Randy sup? U still doing that concert next frday? I need to have a word with u. Ill try to sneak a word before u get on stage, kk?”

With that he sipped up the remaining of his hot drink, paid the bill to the lovely pretty lady behind the counter (giving a generous tip) and left for the dorms.


=================

JP </3 Lovers Arcana
<// Class \\>

JP scribbled down last classes notes as he copied them from Theresa’s notebook. He was so spent from Kendo, Boxing and all the extracurricular training he’d been giving himself that school and all activities of the mind took more energy than he had.

However, his tired, weakened state left him with little to no patience for stealth, and the entire class was aware of his obvious lack of academic interest. The only reason he was even copying Terri’s notes was because… they’re right there. T’would be a shame to waste them.

He turned to Terri, the beautiful blonde he shared his desk with.

“So, you going tonight?” he said, rather bluntly.

 

Sofiya Mikhailovna Ignatova
Bellow High - Ms. Halls' homeroom
[Friday Afternoon]

A lazy Friday afternoon, a class afraid to speak in nothing but silent whispers, and the rays of the afternoon sun forcing their way inside the room from the windows, illuminating the people and furniture alike in a way that could be described as nothing short of serene. Drowsy. A perfect time and place for a nap, if there ever was one. A few students seemed to have taken the opportunity, too, resting their heads on their desks, their backbags or just leaning against the backrests, their necks in such angles they'd definitely be sore when they woke. And yet, Sofia of all people was wide awake.

Kind of.

She was leaning on one hand, crouched over her desk and staring out the window. Though, she wasn't really seeing anything; she was too deep in thought. Her right hand moved on its own, still doodling rather… gruesome pictures depicting Horus and herself ripping apart shadows, some of them disturbingly human-like in appearance. The puny A4 paper she had been drawing on had ran out of space a long time ago, but she hadn't really noticed; her hand kept going on, scribbling torn-off monster heads on the smooth surface of her desk.

Many were exhausted, even frustrated over the Court, and understandably so. They were ripped out of their ordinary lives, denied sleep and pushed to fight against monsters every night, but Sofiya… she was happy. She enjoyed the Court, loved the excuse to stay away from the loneliness of her room. And fighting… oh boy, killing things!

A somewhat catlike smile formed on Sofiya's face, and her eyes closed dreamily. She loved fighting! It made her feel like she was good at something. Every time her knife sliced open its target, she felt pride. She'd show Pyotr the moment he woke! She'd join the army and boy, she'd do good. That, and… if simple training managed to keep her thoughts from derailing to sad things, then fighting, all the sweat, adrenaline and blood… it was like training turned up to eleven. She simply had no time to think about her earthly worries.

Plus, Horus was just so cute. His way of speaking reminded her of an old man, and yet the bird looked so pretty and feminine. Like a pigeon! A shiny, golden pigeon! It was such a contrast! For some reason, he refused to see his own cuteness, though. Hm. Maybe he was just shy?

Sofiya's hand drew a small heart. A shy, blushing Horus! That'd be extra cute!

Cute!

"Cute!" Sofiya exclaimed out loud all of a sudden, finally lifting her hand from the poor, abused desk in favor of raising both her hands in the air. She lift her feet too, almost kicking the already roughed up desk from below. In a second, she opened her eyes and looked around, her expression quickly changing when she realized that no, this wasn't a battlefield. This was something much worse.

Huuuh? Class… roo-uh, oh…!

Sofiya snapped her gaze to the slightly irritated looking teacher, praying to all the cutest Gods she knew that Ms Halls hadn't noticed her. She slammed a hand to cover her mouth, because obviously, that would make her blend in perfectly and not be suspicious at all. The slam was too forceful, though, and it didn't take many tenths of a second for her to fall backwards on her chair, hitting her back and letting out a small, pained yelp. Her long, heeled boots slammed on the table, her short skirt fluttered, and Sofiya shook her head in pain.

"Owww, stupid school. You're more dangerous than monsters!" She muttered to herself, giving a pouting look at the innocent floor she was lying on. The floor didn't answer. Well, obviously. It was probably ashamed of what it had done. It was repenting.

After nodding approvingly, Sofiya's makeshift stern expression turned into her normal one, a wide smile. She turned to face the roof, blinking at the bright lights shining down on her. She followed the stones of the tiles for a while with her gaze, examining the patterns they formed. Her eyes started to close slowly. Well…

There was one bad thing about the Court every night; she got even less sleep than she used to.

Rubbing her eyes, but being careful not to mess up the makeup that covered the bags under her eyes, Sofiya let out a small yawn. The floor was surprisingly comfortable. Maybe she could… for a minute, before the school day ended…

And so, before long, she was already asleep and the picture she had drawn had fallen from the table and descended on her face, effectively blocking some of the light that threatened to wake her.

 

Snow Fields
Bellows High, Mrs. Halls’ homeroom
Friday afternoon

The classroom was fairly quiet; whispers came here and there of students conversing. Well aside from Sonya spontaneously shouting out “Cute!” and falling onto the floor. After a few days around her, several of the students just rolled their eyes, or even laughed softly. Most of them were being rather lighthearted, chatting about the up-coming weekend. Up front, Mrs. Halls was grading tests, apparently trying to balance reading them thoroughly with getting them done quickly. Or maybe not; he didn’t really know what it was like being a teacher.

Snow was feeling really good, ready for what would come that evening. That surprised him, given how he had felt yesterday. On Wednesday night, during the Court of Miracles, Snow had managed to completely exhaust himself at the tail end of it. Wulfgard had pulled him back to rest. Despite that, he had woken up Thursday morning still exhausted and bleary. He had managed to get through school, although he thought he’d fallen asleep for a brief time in one of his classes. Even more surprising, he had gone to bed early and managed to sleep straight through the Court of Miracles. He wondered if he’d been lucky not to have been attacked by Mayas like that or if someone had guarded the dorm. While he’d still been dragging in the morning, right now he was feeling as good as ever.

Having caught back up on his homework and studies, Snow leaned back in his chair and looked up at the clock. There weren’t many minutes left on the clock, but time would seem slow for those minutes. Next to him, a red-haired boy put up some papers and rested his head on the table. He was one of the ones who skipped the Court of Miracles entirely; for that, he was kind of lucky. Snow hoped that he didn’t get pulled into anything else this school year. In the last year alone, it seemed like he was involved in many things that he had little to no say in the matter.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned back to see Sig there. Whispering, he said, "Hey, Snow, you think the wolf man will let us have a bit of the weekend off? I wouldn't mind getting free long enough to hit an arcade or something..."

“That’d be nice,” he whispered back. He recalled that the Crimson Beasts concert was supposed to be tonight, but Randy had a broken arm. He pulled out his cell phone to check his mail, to see if they were going ahead or not. If they were, then he might get put on lead guitar. He glanced back at Sig, though, adding, “Maybe if something big happens, but so long as we’re all doing okay, we need to keep practicing.”

 

… hmm, is everyone in Mrs. Halls’ room now?

Mana Shizuko
Mr. Testa’s Room

Mr. Testa was in the middle of a riveting tale about a trip to Russia. Mana was ignoring it. He was tired, exhausted even. An hour of fighting for his life every single night, while exciting and, well, fun, still meant that he couldn’t get much more than six hours of uninterrupted sleep, nearly every single night. Some of the others had managed to sleep through the Court every once in a while, but Mana couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had to watch out… every night. He’d sit on the roof of the dorms, watching out for Shadows.

Some nights, even when he took breaks from fighting, he took advantage of the midnight hour. He summoned up Alice, talked to her… an odd experience, since it was really talking to himself. She knew what he knew, and no more. She only looked like… her… because of his mind. He tried to come to terms with all of it. And he had… he didn’t feel the horror, the guilt, not as much anymore. And apparently it was like exercising. He had a lot more stamina now, in Persona terms.

It was hard to believe it had only been a week or so. Randy had a broken arm, which he was telling people was caused by ‘Extreme Red Rover’. Honestly… what the hell? But it was a bad thing to lose Randy. Then again, they had gotten a few new recruits. Liza, for one. And there may be more on the horizon…

Mana looked up and saw JP copying down Theresa’s notes. Eh, they’d never actually finished the bet. The little Mayas went down so easily now, and seemed to be massing, so counting them had been next to impossible. Everyone was running out of juice. Wasn’t there a way to make some sort of stronghold against the Shadows? Perhaps a pentacle? There’s no way it’s only us that have experienced this… maybe the demons long-feared by man were Shadows? Mana inked a little hexagram onto the desk.

The rest of the class seemed pretty quiet, although Testa was getting more and more animated. Apparently this trip had been exciting. Probably not as exciting as slaying the demons of the mind. Both metaphorical, literal, mental, and physical.

The tale was coming to a close, and Mana stretched. There was supposed to be a Crimson Beasts concert today. After the last chaotic concert… he wondered if it’d still go ahead… He flipped up his phone and texted Randy and Snow, Concert still going on tonight? Randy, you broke your arm last Court, right? Sorry I wasn't there. I was back at the dorms… If so, how we going to get weapons into the school? It might go on to midnight again… He sent the text and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

The bell would go off in just a few more minutes…

 

Clarise Stone
Bellows High, Miss. Halls’ homeroom
[Friday Afternoon]

A sigh escaped Clarise's lips as she scrolled through the messages on her cellphone. Clicking through to the most recent message, she scanned it over before deleting the message in displeasure. Slamming the lid to the deice shut, she turned at the sound of a loud "Cute!" to her left, watching as the girl -Sofiya, was it?- fell to the floor. Shaking her head at the older girl's antics, she slid out of her chair, pocketing her phone as she made her way over to where Russel sat. Stopping beside the downed girl for a moment, she whispered "You might not want to daydream," before continuing on.

Sliding into the seat next to Russel, she motioned toward the paper before attempting to strike up a conversation. "You seem lonely. What club were you thinking of joining?" she asked, running he fingers through her hair in an effort to straighten it. Once done, she looked him over once, taking note of the red hair and clothing that appeared to be too big for him. Smiling politely, she took the list of clubs from him. Scanning it, she pointed to the middle of the list. "Why not try out for Track...if it isn't too much of a question to be asking." she stated simply.

Pausing for a second, she cast a glance to Sofiya who'd since fallen asleep on the floor, a piece of paper over her face. Frowning at the sight, she turned back to the younger teen, raising an eyebrow as if to ask what he thought of this development.

 

Russell Wilton
Miss Halls’ Homeroom (Friday Afternoon)

“Cute,” the shouted word spread across the mostly quiet room followed back more racket that sounded like something falling. He turned his head to take a look. Someone had fallen, it was that strange girl. At least that how he identified her; the girl was happy all the time and he had many time witness of her of her strange antics. The boy didn’t know her personally and chances were they might never interact for him to get to know her. He returned to his waiting for the bell to ring position before someone hand appeared in front of him suddenly. That startled him making him suddenly sit up straight.

“You seem lonely. What club were you thinking of joining?” The appearance was of a girl she ran she fingers through her hair which was... blue and with red-brown highlights? Staring at it some more, Russell confirmed that it definitely seem to be the colors of her hair. Her eyes were blue like his mostly; his right eye had a patch of brown at the corner of his iris... Scanning her slim figure, he could tell she was taller than him like everyone it seemed... at least she was sitting down so he didn’t have to look up at her. With a polite smile, she took the list of clubs from him skimming it to about midway before stopping. “Why not try out for Track...if it isn't too much of a question to be asking.” That was her suggestion he began to honestly think about it.

“I don’t know about Track... I don’t really know anything about it other than you run... Don’t they normally recruit people just a little bit taller?” He was 5 foot 1 inch tall, annoying short for a boy entering high school. Looking at the list he felt like most of this athletic were short prejudice... or required strength other than Archery and Dance. To be totally honest all the athletic clubs... he couldn’t even imagine how terrible he would most likely be at it or how everyone would stare at him if he tried to join especially if even tried Football, the American one. Overall he was unfortunately clumsy in this field. “I’m actually considering the Drama I don’t know if I have any talent in it but I’ve always been a bit interested in it. That or maybe I should try to start a Cooking Club.”

After saying that, he put his elbow up on the desk and perch his head on his hand. His head was tilting to the right again began trying figure out what club he join. Actually he suddenly realized he was actually having a conversation with someone. Russell thought maybe he could check off his list on making a friend. It felt like his energy was returning but it was still class time and he had to be quiet. He looked her in the eyes.

“So what clubs are you going to or have already joined?” He threw the question back at her. The fourteen year old thought she was probably in track since she was trying to get him to join. “My name is Russell Wilton by the way.” He decided to introduce himself before the bell began to ring; the taller girl was his potential new friend.

 

Theresa Del Monico
Mr. Testa's class
Friday Afternoon

Theresa rubbed her eyes as she struggled to stay awake and copy notes as Mr. Testa spoke. Ever since she got dragged into the Court of Miracles for the first time, she lost a lot of sleep, now averaging about four hours a night. She had considered sleeping through the Court, yet could not bring herself to do so. Somehow, her concern for the younger ones dragged in kept her going...as well as JP...

JP, the young man with a heart deeper than any ocean, the tough exterior of a bull, yet also the sad eyes of a wolf. JP who made her heart flutter whenever he was around, whose facets she somehow saw. He kept her coming back, he kept her fighting.

Mayas were not such a big deal for her anymore. Using a pistol evoker on the other hand, freaked her out a bit. Wulfgard had issued them, maybe because of her navel stud, which he may have thought of as an issue. Her hands often shook before she made the shot, though Demeter did appear without any problems.

“So, you going tonight?” JP's voice snapped Theresa out from her daze. The blonde faced JP, then nodded.

"Yeah, I am. Better to lose sleep than the probability of dying in your sleep I guess..." She replied, a nervous laugh escaping from her lips.

"Besides, it may just help convince my mom to make me dorm here. Driving back and forth in the middle of the night with a scythe in the backseat can give people the wrong idea...that I'm a ripper or an evil farmer or something." She continued, setting her pen down. She looked at the clock, willing for time to go faster.

"How about you...are you going?" She asked, her blue-gray eyes trained on JP.

 

Ciara H. Wright
Mr. Testa's Homeroom
Friday Afternoon

Oh, lord.

Of all the boring, awful homerooms Ciara had to be put into- of course it would be this one. For two weeks, she had had to tolerate several persistently annoying factors- numero uno: the fact that the homeroom teacher was a massive dork; his boring stories she felt were capable of putting even the most alert to sleep, and his enthusiastic manner was hardly helpful. In fact, it gave him a puppyish demeanour, which she absolutely detested. She imagined him as desperate, to want to throw all this knowledge at the walls in the hopes that some would stick.

The second reason were her fellow students- she didn't really like people anyway, but the group she had been put into included some very big 'characters'. A pair of love-birds sat a few desks in front- one had been held back a year (which in Ciara's mind, summed up all she would ever need to know), and the other was a massive pervert (he had definitely been ogling girls on the first day, and Ciara doubted that the leopard could change his spots). Moving across the room, there seemed to be a high quantity of Japanese kids (and also white hair, strange), plus a very campy boy. Ciara didn't think that he was necessarily gay (her feminine intuition, her most highly honed sixth sense, told her this), just... flamboyant.

A rough-looking boy with his arm in a sling ('Extreme Red Rover', what a dreadful lie. Probably got into fights or something.) And finally Donneley, who she saw at the fencing meet. He had a braid, which both fascinated and repulsed Ciara for some strange reason (men with long hair were weird). The group as a whole seemed to have kept well out of her way for the first few weeks- and that was exactly how she liked it. She couldn't imagine being forced to 'get to know' these people, as clearly by now they recognised the one thing that they had to know about Ciara- don't talk to her unless you can avoid it. The social structure had been set, and Ciara languished somewhere around the bottom with the geeks. Her lunch times were spent in the school library, poring over novels in the still and quiet.

Nobody talked to her, but she was fine with that. Girls her age tended to be backstabbers anyway, and boys were complete jerks (yet somehow the girls fought over the boys); she didn't really interact well with younger or older students, neatly encompassing the school. Teachers were quite light-handed with her, as if she were some sort of emotional bomb ready to set off. If only she were that exciting.

From her vantage point in one of the back desks, Ciara had managed to slide down in her desk somewhat so that the pervert's impressive bulk sheltered her from Testa's gaze- she doubted that he would notice her phone unless she waved it in his face, but she didn't want to have it confiscated. Instead, as the gripping tale continued she started browsing YouTube, watching whatever inanities came to mind- it was one of those Friday afternoons where she didn't really want to get into anything big. She was hoping that the bell could go any second, and release her from her torment.

She had an appointment with the counsellor after school, but she could skip it. Few things bored her as much as being asked silly questions about her 'attitude problem' and how she was 'across a divide from the other students'. The amateur psychiatry was poor and the counsellor had a dreadful sense of humour- when asked where she saw herself in ten years, Ciara had replied (sarcastically!) that she would be 'married to a wealthy man and spend her days cooking and washing dishes- did a pretty girl like her need an education?'; the woman had taken on a serious, sad look and given her several pamphlets on feminism and rising above the dominance of men, which were quite interesting even if a bit droll. Ciara had digested the facts, and the viewpoint was good, even if it had wanted to go above equality and towards female dominance- a vicious circle.

She had zoned out completely and was now thinking of feminism! Wonderful. Turning off the YouTube clip, she rustled around loudly in her bag until she found her compact mirror, at which point she began reapplying her perfect make-up, just as something to do. Time ticked slowly on, progressing agonisingly as if savouring ever moment of her torture, and she took an equal amount of time as she ran Cherry Blossom Pink over her lips. It was funny- quite a lot of people looked very tired- not just the regular 'end of week' tired, but 'exhausted, stayed up until 1am forever' tired. Maybe they had massive parties in some hidden location. She lost focus in the lipstick and started to go back inside her thoughts again.

Personally, her sleep patterns had became rather disrupted in the last few days- a constant dream juxtaposed with a nightmare, of a large full moon over a still sea. There was a forest, but no movement or sound. The dream was dead- as if a freeze frame, but something more. There was a strange chill in the air, and the dream gave her dread, even if the scene by itself would make a wonderful picture. Still, sleep wasn't for a good eight hours yet- plenty of time to forget about the dream.

The weekend awaited! How glorious. When school finished, she had over fifty hours of time to spend purely to herself, to prepare for seeing the idiots again when the five-day cycle repeated.

 

JP </3 Lovers Arcana
<//Still.In.Class.\\>

JP held off the urge to make his palm meet his face, as the all too familiar shriek echoed through the halls all the way to this classroom. He just closed his eyes and rubbed them, hiding a slight smile of amusement, refusing to let others know he rather enjoyed the girl’s easy going attitude. Yeah, that was definitely Sofiya. She was the only girl he knew whose shriek could be heard several halls away.

"Yeah, I am. Better to lose sleep than the probability of dying in your sleep I guess...” Terri said, making him forget entirely the Sofiya incident.

“Well, I am thinking of a countermeasure for that. The entire group going in every night will just exhaust us. But I need to talk to Randy before I tell the rest of the group…”

"Besides, it may just help convince my mom to make me dorm here.”

And just then all tactical thoughts left his mind, being replaced with an image of Terri, in her underwear (which, in JP’s mind, was a black, purple stained bra and panties set under one of those transparent black nightgowns) sleeping directly above him.

Soon, the thoughts became much, much more graphic, and JP felt the need to adjust himself. He hunched closer to the desk and leaned forward, hoping no one would notice.

“Driving back and forth in the middle of the night with a scythe in the backseat can give people the wrong idea...that I'm a ripper or an evil farmer or something."

‘Uh, what? Oh crap, she’s still talking!’

“Umm, yeah, you should totally do that.”

JP felt his cheeks grow warmer.

“But that would definitely be better for…” he looked around to see if no one was listening. He found quite a few stares being hastily draw away from them, and decided against speaking the Court’s name out loud. “Us,” he said, referring to the entire team.

“That would ease up our meetings and the… um, dispatchment.” He whispered the last part.

"How about you...are you going?"

The blonde’s stare caught JP’s eyes. He smirked and straightened himself up, only to remember about his “condition” and quickly hunching again.

“I have to. It’s been a week since Diego’s incident. I have a promise to keep.”

He smiled back at her, gently. He tried to hide the fear and hesitation he’d been feeling since the last Court ended behind his toughness, and he felt he was successful.

Truth is, he wasn’t. The normal tough, serious smirk was gone from his face. His smile might seem genuine, but, like usual, his eyes betrayed his lie. They quivered and shook. Looking at them, one could almost sense an overwhelming urge to drop everything and run, screaming and kicking, until one can find a corner where they can curse the world and blame everyone else for one’s flaws and shortcomings.

He wasn’t like Wulfgard. He wasn’t like Randy. He wasn’t brave…

He pretended to be.

Others may see the sword wielding and the bravado as a manifestation of the latino’s bravery, but in truth they were empty words shouted and self preservation acts to ensure survival.

JP looked away from Terri all to suddenly, and just stared blankly into the void that had just formed in front of him, cursing himself.

‘I’m a coward…’

 

Joshua Sands - Tower Arcana - ???

Joshua hit the ground with a thump, awaking with a yelp. A nightmare. Just a nightmare... That had simply caused him to fall out of bed. That was all. Even so, he was in a cold sweat, and panting like he'd run a marathon. Disturbed sleep was becoming a regularity for him with the Courts. It was either fitful, or nightmarish, whichever struck his subconscious' fancy. He didn't seem to have woken anyone this time... Thankfully. He wondered what tomorrow, Friday, would bring...

---

The week progressed fairly normally for Joshua, as he soon developed a routine. He joined both the fencing and drama clubs, the former for training, the latter because, well, how could he not? As such, his average day was: Wake up, shower, breakfast, school, fencing/drama/bass practise, dinner, homework, workout/training, Court of Miracles, "sleep". Needless to say, he was a busy bee. In the Court, he usually stuck with Snow or Kent, because going it alone out there was suicide. Randy of course, almost learned this the hard way. Had to give him credit for his excuse though. Extreme Red Rover. Inspired. However, it meant that he'd need extra protection in the Court, since he was unable to fight. How would this affect the group dynamics? Time would tell.

---

Friday Afternoon, Testa Jones' Homeroom

As much as Joshua enjoyed Russia and its incredible history, he couldn't help but feel himself dozing off during Mr. Jones' story. He was simply too tired from a hard day and the grand total of 3 winks of sleep last night. Might have to skip training and try to nap... But as soon as he thought the last word, his eyes closed, and Joshua found himself in the Land of Nod.

For about a second.

As he did so, his hand that had been supporting his head slipped, and his head smacked into the desk, jolting him awake. "DAMN IT!" His face immediately turned red, knowing everyone was probably staring at him. Oh dear God...

 

Sigmund Okonkwo
Bellow High, Ms. Halls' homeroom [Friday Afternoon]

“That’d be nice," Snow commented. He made a quick check of his phone before adding, “Maybe if something big happens, but so long as we’re all doing okay, we need to keep practicing.”

Yes, that was the responsible answer. Also the correct one, most likely.

"Yeah, I know," Sig sighed. "I guess I'd rather give up my weekends than repeat last..."

He trailed off, not even bothering to finish. Snow would know what he was talking about, at least. Their inauguration into the Court of Miracles and the reasoning behind his recently-developed disdain for fire. Anybody that was there couldn't help but remember - the hulking monstrosity, how nothing even seemed to faze it... and that boy, hardly older than themselves, up in flames. Nobody had quite recovered from seeing it, he wagered. News was even spreading among the staff - nothing definite, but murmurs of a recent disappearance, just enough that some were beginning to notice. It was, of course, no disappearance. There were nearly a dozen students who had seen the truth for themselves, and it still came as a shock. The thought of having to fight another one of those so soon was...

In an attempt to force his mind elsewhere, Sig took a quick glance around, just at the right time to see Sonya raise her arms in the air and exclaim "Cute!," likely in response to something in her imagination. Then, as she realized what she had practically shouted, she slapped a hand to her own face and fell comically backwards in her chair. Man, where did she get all her energy from? He could definitely use a pick-up between his own workout and the conditioning he had been getting from club activities (they had only started on Monday, but already most were knee-deep into their respective diversions). His older sister had always been into herbal tea - maybe that was worth a try. Leaning back in his seat, Sigmund glanced out the window and went over what he could recall about the stuff.

Tea had caffeine in it, he remembered. That would definitely counteract the fact that he was short on sleep. Asian cultures used it as a medicinal plant, as well, and the court would definitely give him use for that. What's more, he might be able to grow his own. Now that would be a project! Maybe Sarah had been onto something - tea seemed like a pretty thorough solution to him. Given their apparent nationality, perhaps Mana or Miyuki would know more about the intricacies of tea, too. This would be worth looking into, for sure.

Just as soon as they were let out of class.

In the meantime, Sigmund focused on the nearest tree visible from Halls' room, removing his glasses momentarily so that he could see it more clearly. With nothing better to do, he began to pick out details to kill time until the bell released him.

Elm, about twenty years old, probably trimmed to maintain its shape...

 

Kent Lockewood
Bellow High-Ms. Hall’s Room (Afternoon)

The room was quiet. Not in an entirely bad way either like those awkward silences or imbearably still like those eerily desolate areas were. It just wasn’t much of a talkative class...But then again, as Kent glanced at the teacher up front, grading tests with a firm hand and even firmer attitude; it wasn’t meant to be a talkative class as well.

He stretched, pulling his arms up like a condor in flight and gave a soft yawn. The day hadn’t been entirely fulfilling to him to any extent. He was overtasked, overburdened, and generally not in an insanely good mood to pay attention to all the juicy gossip that seemed to be going on. Little whispers were heard elsewhere. The two girls sitting in front of him were talking about who was shagging who-as if that really needed to be discussed in an open-air environment that really needed to keep a PG-13 level.

Kent leaned against his seat, in a lax position, trying to get comfortable in the small space. His legs felt ill-fitting in the enclosed desk area and the fact that he was lacking sleep didn’t really fit with his overall mood. He was a bit more winded and bothered-and as Arty put it, the mark of a decaffeinated idiot. And speaking of Arty-and all his friends in general, he couldn’t really explain the real reason behind his behavior. Battling monsters in the dead of midnight wasn’t exactly an extremely plausible explanation to make. Even more a believable one. He just stuck to the basic explanations, more late-calls with his sister, wanderlust leading him out at insane hours of the morning.

And speaking of the Court, he glanced at the individuals he had seen. On one note, these people were strangers to him mostly. Save one or two kids he had talked to before the Court like Joshua. The others, he hadn’t bothered to make his acquaintance, and to them, he probably was just some new guy among the endless swarm of faces. Most of them seemed to know each other at least and were alright with giving monosyllabic greetings face to face. Some seemed closer than others for sure. It didn’t get on Kent’s nerves that he was a recent addition, but he missed on some key developments during the time.

He gave a long sigh. There was time, and hopefully, these guys weren’t as bad or strange as they seemed. A weary look was given to Sofiya who seemed perfectly fine with slitting monster’s throats with finesse-with the expression that she just received her Christmas presents. But at least she was somewhat refreshing even if she was off her rocker, and he let out a rough laugh at she knocked her poor desk out while shouting, “Cute!”

Kent would have added some humorous exclamation to her words, but then Halls would probably say something about it. He already received a tardy slip as well as a bit of steel eyes to his commentary and personality. It wasn’t exactly a great place to start from.

Futher more, about the Court, he didn’t really know what to think about it. There was some panic, some emotional distress….But it just created a rift between the life he created for himself here and the crazy shet fate threw at him like hot potatoes. Somehow, he was incoherent to the words of his friends, the expressions on their faces when they knew he was making crap up to hide the Court. And it hurt both sides. He closed his eyes for a moment and processed his thoughts.

Whatever the reasons, whatever the consequences and actions, one thing remained true. He really was a decaffeinated jerk who could really use a coffee.

--
Late ;w;
I'm sick right now, so this was the best I could muster. Getting the flu was not in my best interest.

And Zinc, sorry to hear about the crazy antics of your dormmates. My own roommate is coming back drunk a lot and throwing her dinner all over our room. She has covered my bed twice now in her barf and has excellent aim. She always tries for the head and never failed to miss my pillow. Really trying to move. This environment is driving me batshet. >_>

 

~ Miyuki Tachibana ~
- Mr. Testa's Homeroom -

Miyuki had no clue what Mr. Testa was going on about.

She was nearly unconscious, her head face-down on her desk at the back of class. She had been dosing off and on all day, and really couldn't tell you just what her earlier classes had covered. The Court was a big drain on her energy. She fared better than most at first, she was used to staying up all night after all, but the work almost every night was taxing on her. She didn't have the endurance that the others had, so after getting worn out at night, she was simply too tired to stay awake through a full school day. She hadn't even hit The Court last night, and she still hadn't been able to sleep last night.

So, here she was, passed out in class yet again, her form entirely hidden by her black hoodie. She caught bits and pieces of Mr. Testa's speech, he was giving a story about something that had happened to him in Russia, but she wasn't really paying attention. Russia... Sofiya was from Russia right? Perhaps she should try to pick up a few things... Then again, sleep was looking a lot more promising right now.

A loud smack and a loud shouting curse rang through the class, jolting Miyuki awake. Her head shot up from her desk, and her reading glasses, which she had forgotten to take off earlier, nearly fell off of her face. She took the glasses off (she was a bit farsighted, so she only needed them to read) and shoved them into her pocket as she , and everyone else in the room for the most part, stared right at the source of the disturbance, Joshua. Miyuki recognized him from their group, so she knew that he was probably dozing off in class like she was. Poor guy, he must have been having a bad dream or something. At least it hadn't been her this time. She had spazzed out like that at yesterday's lunch, but a shout in a crowded lunch room was a lot less noticeable than a shout in a relatively quiet classroom. She would have to say something to him later... On second thought.

Miyuki scribbled down a few words on a scrap of paper.

She was fairly skilled at note passing, as her introduction to Mana was any indication. She carefully folded the note and, taking aim, waited for a moment when the classroom's collection of eyes were off of Joshua before launching it his way. It landed squarely in his lap, though she had to send it over the heads of a few other students to get it there. Thankfully, Mr. Testa hadn't noticed the note. He was too busy pointing out places on his map of Russia.

Hopefully her little note would help him out a bit, or at least get him to smile.

But speaking of Mana... She turned her gaze towards the fellow hoodie lover to see him looking a bit bored. He was probably just waiting for the school day to end, like most everyone else in the room. He was the first person she had talked to here at this school, but they hadn't really talked much since. Miyuki didn't want to say she had been avoiding him, but he had been a bit off-putting with his choice of evoker. Needles gave her the creeps. She didn't know what sort of person would intentionally stab themselves with one... At least Wulfgard had given them all the standard gun style ones a little while back. But that didn't change the fact that something about Mana still creeped her out just a bit. But that was no way to be. Maybe he just needed some help...

She sighed. Today was going to be another long day... especially if she had to hit The Court again tonight. Hopefully she could sleep some this afternoon...

 

Testa Jones
His Homeroom
Afternoon

Testa was enjoying his little tale, and was even acting out a few of the sword fight scenes with his wooden pointer. Right in the middle of decapitating the head Cultist, Testa's tale was cut off by a small buzzing coming from one of his student's pockets. Soon it elevated into what sounded like a speedy disco beat. After a few seconds, Randy Clopin reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone, and began typing something in it the best he could with one hand.

Stopping, Testa turned his head to the side and stared at Randy with the same old grimace on his face as always. “Alright, I don't mind you having your phone on in class students,” losing his grin and opening his eyes, Testa took a couple more swift glaces around the room, specifically towards the door “, but please keep it on silent. I don't want 'her' to hear it and get me in trouble again. She already tried to get me in trouble because my room was, quote on quote, 'A pigsty worthy of nothing more than barnyard animals.'”

Admittedly, Testa's room was unorganized. Dozens upon dozens of leather bound and dusty tomes laid on each other in teetering stacks. A large wood-tone globe was off to the left of his desk, just sitting on the floor. Large clay pots and ancient statues were shoved into several corners with sticky notes asking students to 'handle with care if you don't mind'.

Randy nodded and slid his phone closed. “Sorry Mr. Jones. I never usually get texts. I'll turn it off tomorrow.”

“Good deal. And make sure to take care of your arm. Don't want it getting any worse now do we? Haha!”

(OOC: Randy texts back to all of the texters roughly the same thing. The concert is still on. He's getting a cast in the afternoon and will be perfectly able to perform.)
-

Miss Halls
Her Classroom
Afternoon

'Finally, the weekend is here.' Janie thought to herself, marking down yet another 'A+' on a student's physics test. 'It's nice that these kids are picking up the material, but there's so many of these damn papers. I need some fun.' So far, only one student taking Janie's science classes had scored lower than a 'C', and it was only one point. Miss Halls was a strict teacher, but it worked. Whatever it takes to get an education to these kids, eh?

“CUTE!”

Looking up, Miss Halls adopted her 'stern' face, covering up her urge to laugh. It was Sofiya. The girl was quite the basket case, but it was all very amusing. Not that she could just let it slide. She needed to keep her image up.

“Quite, class.”
Before she could return to grading however, a sharp rapping could be heard coming from the door.

“Come in!” She yelled, pushing her pen aside, glad for an excuse to take a break from work. The door slowly opened, revealing the Student Council President, Shinai Haitani.

Miss Halls liked Shinai. He was hardworking, intelligent, and always willing to learn more. But the past week he seemed to be down. He stopped taking care of his hair, allowing his bangs to grown out, and his uniform was slightly wrinkled. Looking at his face, she could tell that something was definitely wrong. His mouth was still showing no emotion, but she could see a faint red outline around his eyes. As if he had bee crying recently.

“I have some fliers for the fundraiser tonight. Would you pass them out among your students please?” he asked calmly, not raising his voice anymore than was needed to get the message to Miss Halls. She nodded, and held out her hand to receive a few. Shinai walked over and slapped a couple in her palm before turning and walking out of the room without another sound.

“Strange... now, on your way out class, grab one of these.” Miss Halls said, placing the stack on the end of the desk. 'Alright, now back to grading...'
-

Randy Clopin
Testa's homeroom
Afternoon

'Is that Shinai?' Randy thought, looking at the boy as he stepped in the room after knocking briefly. At this point in Testa's story, he was standing on his desk and pointing to the various symbols in the Russian Alphabet which were displayed on a poster over his chalk board. 'He looks like hell.'

Shinai reached into his pants pocket with his free hand a looked around the room. He then pulled out a white handkerchief coughed violently into it and looked at Mr. Jones. “Can you pass these out?” He asked, holding up the remainder of the fliers. Testa nodded and returned to his brief lesson, and shinai placed them on his desk.

Randy did his best to get a look at the fliers and saw they were for his concert tonight. Sweet. A little bit of school recognition. The outcome might even be better than last week. As Shinai was leaving, he stopped and looked at a pile of books for a second. Taking this chance Randy piped up, interrupting Mr. Jones.

“Hey, Shinai, you going to the show tonight? It's going to be a blast.”

Shinai's answer was brief, a simple and blunt 'no'. But he did turn to Mr. Jones.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I borrow this?” He asked picking up a rather beat up looking volume. Randy strained his eyes, but could only make out one word: 'Goetia'. What was that?

“Sure, just bring it back by Monday.... or whenever. Don't damage it ok?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Shinai replied, sounding as ungrateful as you can after saying the word 'Thanks'. Then he walked out without another word.

“Man... what happened to him?”

 

Mana Shizuko
Mr. Testa’s Room

Testa was swordfighting now. Either he was secretly Indiana Jones and had the holy grail hidden somewhere in the room, or he was an impressive storyteller. In the middle of decapitating a cultist, Randy’s phone went off. Mana winced. He’d expected him to have the phone off.

Randy typed quickly, then put his phone away. Mana pulled out his own phone – on silent – and looked at it. A moment later, the text arrived.

Concert is still on. Getting a cast in the afternoon and will perform.

Mana shrugged. Then, there was a knock at the door, and Shinai Haitani, student body president arrived. He looked quite worse for wear, much like the members of their own Special Extracurricular Execution Squad. Hey, it was as good a name as any.

He handed out some fliers, which were advertising the concert that night.

“Hey, Shinai, you going to the show tonight? It's going to be a blast,” Randy said.

“No,” was the only reply, blunt and simple. Shinai was borrowing a book from Testa… It was the Ars Goetia? Part of the Lesser Key of Solomon. Or another version? Was Shinai interested in invoking angels or evoking demons?

“Man... what happened to him?” Randy said, watching Shinai leave. Mana stood, the bell had rung, and walked over to him.

“Hey Randy, you’re going to be alright with the arm? That and… Shinai looked like a wreck, and he borrowed a copy of the Ars Goetia, at least I’m pretty certain. That’s for summoning demons, controlling them, and binding them. So… maybe he’s like our group? Y’know, at midnight… Well, don’t strain yourself too much at the concert. We’ll be busy afterwards.”

Mana turned to Joshua. “Yo Josh, you alright? You should probably get to the dorms and sleep or something. You want to skip the concert tonight? It might go through midnight again.” Joshua Sands. Possibly gay. He liked musical theatre. Then again, Mana wasn’t one to judge. He watched shojo anime at times. Let he who is without non-masculine habits throw the first stone. An image of JP hurling rocks struck him. Nah, even he had to have something. Maybe he was secretly into… knitting? Sappy romance novels? Yaoi fanfiction?

Thinking again of the Court, Mana touched the gun evoker that he carried with him always, in an inside pocket of his hoodie. Covered by a sewn-on flap of cloth, it wasn’t visible. He might be away from the dorms all day until midnight. It was something he’d never let leave his person. If the school caught him, he could say it was a toy. It didn’t fire anything after all, and he didn’t have any ammunition that may incriminate him. And even if he was suspended, it was still better than being dead. Wasn’t like he could disappoint his parents either.

One of Mana’s bows was in the school. Having joined the Archery Club, he had a good excuse to have it, although it was a bit high-powered for a sport bow. Always prepared… a bit paranoid, but for good reason.

What to do… what to do…

 

Lace Condor
Inside Lace's Mind
Friday Afternoon

"No one's watching here, our incredibly non-chalant and pretentious deity Emperess Dolphin, we have the go head!" shouted a surprisingly tall mility commander Banana wearing a Red Sox cap.

"As the ever encroaching toxic daisies make headway to Dolphin across the yellow brick road, an army of turret-toting snapping turtles streak across the orange black sky leaving big boy bombs in wake! Lt.Marigold has ceased her updates, and the militia is beginning to show signs....of.....weak..ness."

Commander Banana has an impatient look on his face as he looks to his left aboard the central control tower abandoned in a flaming ocean. Troops, men, women, and mean-faced strawberries are screaming for their lives down bellow deck.
Behind the commander sitting confidently in a dark blue arm chair lies the Empress Dolphin, a marine animal able to walk on its on tail dressed in a military jacket with badges adorning her uniform. As the ship begins to crumble, and light fixtures above short out the situation fails to sway.

"You sound sooo much like that scared little boy down in the lunch room earlier! I've seen even this coming."

"But Empr-"

"EARLIER!"

Commander Banana, grows tired of her ignorance as Dolphin begins to tease her aquarium of goldfish with a bag of two deadly piranhas hanging overhead.

Never thinking about her own men! Just scaring the tint off those darn things!

He shakes his head in dissapointment and goes through the automatic sliding down across the room. She needs to focus.


Lace Condor
Bellow High: Ms. Hall's room
Friday Afternoon

On Condor's desk sheets of scribbled spiral notebook paper are horribly tortured by a Hello Kitty lead pencil. Lace is once again in the world of her mind, time goes by her un-attended as her surrounding class kills time until the end of period. Huddled down in her seat, Lace is leaning over her paper eyes completely fixed on her drawings muttering quietly and forgetting herself as a small line of drool drops down onto the sheet infront, bringing her back to the living.

Condor shakes her head as a sharp reflex, she has no work on the desk and her short red curly hair has slightly gotten entangled in the corner of her mouth's right side. Sitting back up straight and darting her eyes to the left and right, she maintains her secrecy from Ms. Hall's hawk-like eyes. Around her the students make simple conversation about the list of clubs available to sign up for after school and make connections. Connections that Lace herself has yet to jump into.

I've been a week so far, classes aren't no where near as tough as the school brochure made the curriculum out to be! Maybe they got a swimming pool here, one filled with chlorine. No no, that'd be spoiled so something more laid-back like maple syrup? Root beer with floating gummy bears as floaties?!

She continues to mutter to herself and decides to pursue a swim team if any after this class ends. Brushing the hair from out of her mouth and briefly scoping her surroundings, Lace stretches her legs out to underneath the desk ahead of her, accidentally kicking the metal bar under the seat. Hopefully the student infront wouldn't mind.

"Cute!"

Ah, the prisoners are starting to rebel here already! With enough distractions like that it should be no trouble getting outta this hole!

Condor's artistic skills don't hold to attract any attention, an origami bird forms in her hand as she balls up the scratch paper on her desk with a mischevious smile.

Just twist this just enough and almost there.

The bird shoots out from Lace's hand in the direction of Ms. Hall's desk. It's unfortunate that time wasn't spent to make sure her drool didn't droop onto the wings as the bird flies just shy of Lace's shoes merely circling back to hit its master in the forehead.

The pilot can't be ready this early, he must still be stressed over losing that dang gerbil of his. What's thats thing name again? Dexter? Ahh, no importante the teacher should be showing us the door to freedom about now. Our period of purgatory will sooneth be over!!..eth. Yeah, that'll get some work much layyyyteeerrr.

For the past week in her time as a new member of Bellow High, Lace has kept a pretty low profile much to her own pride. The environment around the school gave off an atmosphere to her that was warm and inviting, a setting like this proved a much needed change for Condor to explore. Staying in a single, roommates hadn't really been a major priority move and her focus was instead on joining as many clubs/associations as she could. She'd tell you herself, "I always keep my lights on!" Putting extra emphasis on the 'my'.

In a smart decision to maintain her slick outwardness, Lace's redhead is kept at a short neck-length manageable size in twisting curls that cover her ears down to her very chin. The option of wearing a skirt as most of the females, proved a distraction to her work and opted for plain slacks and white dress shirt with the top botton undone and tie. Seated around the middle rows, Condor still had a pretty good view of the outside to her left and started to stare out thinking about nothing in particular ignoring the energy around her.

With her face supported by a leaning right arm and her bored hand lightly holding onto Hello Kitty, her eyes began to unconsciously droop down as her mind left her body again.

Ms. Hall had announced that they'd get a sheet of paper on their way out from a class and another that'd be passed around by one of her classmates. This development signaled the end of her confinement in, The Bellow State Penitentiary of Bettur Learnin, supervised by Warden Hall.

Her zoning interrupted by a strange energy from the class, snapped our subject back to life. Looking down at her desk bewildered, Lace quickly shuffled her drawings back into a dark binder and sit up in her seat with a smile on her face and poor left thumb being chewed in her mouth.

Ya Hear that? The dinner bell is soon going to ring and your time here is gonna..be...up! Staring down at the poor thumb with an evil smile, Lace is willing to allow any pleas for life.

Bent underneath her chin, Lace's thumb seemed to nod in feared agreement of the changing personality of its master.

-----------------------------

 

Russell Wilton
Miss Halls Homeroom (Friday Afternoon)

The girl take came up to him didn’t reply, what was she waiting for? She was the one that started this conversation yet she was taking forever to answer such a simple question. It probably hadn’t been that long, but Russell was getting impatient with the long pause between response times. If she didn’t say something by the time the bell rings he would just leave the conversation at this; how much he would like to make a friend he didn’t have to dilly-dally, he had things to do and a person to find.

Suddenly the creak of the door made Russell’s head turn to get a better looking of the person... It was the Student Council President, Shinai Haitani. Not that he knew much about him other than that. He actual quite admire student council members; he saw them as brave protectors of students in school. He almost wanted to join himself, thinking it might help him. But at the same time it seem it would be too much for him to handle as freshman in a new area, at a school like this plus adding any extra activities he might join. He also thought it might be a little too late to get in it now, maybe next year. Watching the President... something was definitely wrong with him: unkempt hair, filthy clothes and the monotone voice he had... had something happened between now the beginning of the week when he first spotted him? After he dropped off the fliers he left without another word.

“I wonder what happened, he looks like a zombie.” Russell mumbled to himself and scratched his head; it upset him a bit that the leader of Council was in shambles like that. More than anything it reminded him of his cousin who always slunk around and how was always so depressed. The redhead wanted to help him but somehow didn’t seem like it was problem he shouldn’t bother with. He once again looked back to the clock once more, it was almost time to leave; would the girl say anything before then?