Welcome to the World IC

[Celestial]

Miu's eyebrow cocked up as she noticed TK's slight zoning before he grabbed his PFT and gave her his full attention. Not that she blamed him though, she would have also been somewhat taken aback if some stranger were to walk up and ask her her name but not knowing theirs.

She noticed that the groups she had saw before had begun to disperse. They probably already decided on an image that they were going to replicate or were simply taking a break from the lecture that they had just endured for the last hour. She had to admit, it was a dull lecture, which made even her start to dose off. Perhaps taking their mind off of the matter at hand was quite appropriate. She looked at TK's bright blue eyes as he began to talk.

"Ah, yeah I'm TK," he replied. "You must be Yoshiko, Miu, Martin, or Arthur, more likely Yoshiko or Miu, seeing as Martin and Arthur are clearly males." He laughed awkwardly as Miu couldn't help but smile. The name Yoshiko was familiar from somewhere, but she couldn't quite place a firm decision on an image of the girl. She shrugged as she dispelled the thought for now.

TK had stole a quick glance at his PFT before looking at her again with his hand outstretched. "Is this you? Yoshiko?"

Reading the message quickly, she shook her head. "Nice to meet you too TK," she said as she extended her hand and smiled slightly. "I'm actually Miu. Not too familiar with the other names I saw on the list, but I suppose we shall both meet them soon, right?"

Her hand was still outstretched as the smile never left her face. TK was kind of cute even though this was the first time she had actually met him. However, she quickly stored the thought for later as she silently wondered when the others would show up. There was a student that reeked of cigarette smoke standing by the fountain while there was another student in wheelchair writing in a small music composition book. On closer inspection, Miu could have sworn she knew the person. Her attention, however, was short lived as she saw the markings in the small book. She wasn't a gifted musician by any means, but she knew what she was looking at. Before her was a composer - a student composer. She would have to remember to talk to her later. Though it may seem incredulous or perhaps even rude, she would have loved to hear the student's piece, for she hungered for the richness of any classical movement that could satisfy her musical tastes.

[Hymusia]

Thinking and certain now that this was no more than a prank meant to tease her she had thrown herself into her music. She did not believe she was an artist or a great composer but her master; the title for the one that taught you and conducted the orchestra, had asked for an original piece and she was only too happy to oblige. So between her notes she paused, reread and then mimicked the motions of her bow to fully imagine the piece and all it's notes. Those she was note happy with were erased and replaced with what she assumed would sound better. It was while contemplating her notes that she perchance heard mention of her name and from surprise dropped her pencil with a clatter to the ground, catching her music book which otherwise would soon have followed.

Even she felt shame at how easily she frightened, in her mind she was a much more confident person, a person she happily became when On Wrld, but that was only digital, pixels and electronics, and she always had to return to this world where she was nothing but a shell hiding a deeper personality within. She frowned at the fallen instrument of writing, while she had others in her bag she was rather fond of writing music with just that one pencil. Glancing to where her name had come from she spied the music playing boy and a girl with him, apparently two of the four others she was supposed to work with. About to announce herself as Yoshiko she was cut off by the other girl who turned out to be Miu.

Without the confidence to speak up now, assuming she had missed her cue, she instead concentrated on getting back the pencil which had rolled a foot or so away. Carefully she unfastened the belt that kept her stable and safe in the chair and shimmied towards the edge of the seat. Her good foot upon the ground and out of the stirrup she bent over, fingertips barely catching the pencil's edge but only serving to push it further away. “Oh darn.” She uttered in a quiet tone to herself, shifting slightly more and attempting her leg to take the weight of her body, her damaged leg soft upon the ground, and as she bent this time to reach her pencil she fell from her chair completely, her music book hitting the ground as she fell to her one good knee and her hands.

Scarlet was the hue of her cheeks as she realised what had happened, and with the most sheepish of her hands she reached for the pencil that had inadvertently caused her fall. Now she had not only ignored her two team mates but also embarrassed herself in front of them, worse still was that it had surprisingly hurt and she was sure her knee and palms were scratched as tears stung her eyes from the damaged legs awkward angle. This was not the best way to start a new friendship, in fact she wouldn't be surprised if they laughed at her now, or perhaps turned an even more pitying gaze upon her. The worst part of all was how she wasn’t' certain she could get up again unaided. Baka

[Lemmers]

Arthur was going to drive himself crazy thinking about the oddity of his situation. Well, it wasn't that odd, he assured himself. This was a college course and group projects were to be expected, and hell, he was willing to do the project by himself anyways. As long as his group wasn't made up of truants or web-surfers he would be fine, he might even make friends. Yeah, there was always the chance that he was placed with other earnest, hardworking people. Dr. Klein had said that he was looking forward to what Arthur's group was going to produce. Of course, Arthur didn't want to come off as egotistical, he really didn't think he was any better than anyone else, he just... couldn't get along with certain people.

Arthur sighed as he barged his way into the auditorium, hanging his head in exasperation. The messenger bag he was using to carry his books swung idly at his side and he ran a hand through his hair. It was also about this time he heard moaning sounds coming from on of the back rows and he was forced to shake his head. "Hey! This is a classroom! Cut it out!" Arthur's voice was followed by a loud squeal from a girl, and a guy stuck his head up from behind the row in front of him, "Dude, what the hell man?" he spouted.

Arthur had stopped paying attention to the couple, having said his peace as he made his way up the stairs towards the back of the room. He could see a great deal of embarrassment and discomfort on the girl's face, but he was glad to see that both of them were wearing all of their clothes. The guy shot him a glare, but Arthur was far from intimidated. "Dude!" was all he heard as he left the lecture hall behind, exiting into a hallway the led out to the front courtyard.

He had always liked the fountain in this courtyard, and was kind of glad that his group had decided to meet here. If it was here, he would be more likely to relax a little, be a bit more amicable. Even if he was willing to do the entire project by himself, he didn't want to turn his group against him, that would just be asking for trouble. Instead, he scanned the groups of students that had also decided to meet here, looking for any groups of four that might be looking around for another member, only to realize that most everybody was already deep in conversation.

Two of the people were talking with one another, a boy and girl, and they seemed to be discussing their PFTs of all things. Arthur was smart enough to put together that they were most likely part of his group, discussing the message he'd sent out. There was another guy, smoking by himself, and a girl in a wheelchair who seemed to be doodling in a book or something. He had an inkling feeling that these two were somehow related to his work, but he couldn't be absolutely sure of any of it. He watched them for a moment before deciding his course of action.

That was when the wheelchair girl dropped her pencil, and it rolled away from her. His heart strings tugged when he watched her unlatch herself to reach for the pencil. Arthur could already feel his feet moving, making a beeline across the courtyard towards her. He couldn't help it, even if the girl ended up hating him. Then she somehow managed to fall out of her chair, and Arthur all but started sprinting to catch up to her. He was the first one there, and he bent down to see if she was alright. There didn't look to be any serious injuries, but there was definitely some scraping, and judging from the mist building up around the girl's eyes it probably stung pretty bad. Arthur turned around, watching as several people had stopped paying attention to what they were doing to look at the little fiasco. He waved them off, letting them know that there was nothing to see.

"Are you going to be alright here?" he asked, trying to assess the situation, "I can help if you want."

[Sarcor]

Martin glanced over at the boy and girl still talking, noting their conversation and very subtly trying to eavesdrop. Martin was never the shadowy type so his effort felt flat when his face instantly showed that he recognized the name "T.K" come out of the girl's mouth. He shifted on his feet like he was uncomfortable and the cigarette fell flat out of his mouth. It was inevitable really, cause Martin's mouth remained open in concern and disbelief that this was the T.K. who sent the blackmail type message. His surprise turning quickly into slight annoyance and even a smattering of anger, Martin strode forward a couple of strides to the blond guy and opened his mouth. What came next was a bit awkward and vaguely thought through.

Since Martin always had a problem of enunciating, plus his introverted demeanor in most of his student career before college, talking to people wasn't the easiest thing to do. His awkward frame and slightly moth-eaten clothes told a story to people on first glance that he wasn't a much respected member of society. The one fact that Martin completely hated was the mention that his family wasn't even middle class and was quick to act when it was brought up. That was uncharacteristic to his archetype of being the shy nerd in the back of the room, reading fantasy novels while the teacher droned on about topics Martin wasn't interested in. Things like making eye contact and conversing with the opposite sex was left to people who didn't stumble over their words every other time they wanted to ask to go to the bathroom.

Eventually Martin had gotten over most of it by exploring the freedom college life gave to him after he graduated from the personal hell that was high school. Most of his so called "friends" were and still are drinking buddies and his only girlfriend was a contact who got him his special smokes. The only reason he started to smoke was because of his trial and error way of fitting into certain cliques. Martin enjoyed the company of various smokers in his class, purely for the reason of interacting with individuals who didn't question what background he came from or brought it up at any convenient time. Besides, it gave adequate time to complain about how the high school system sucked and how the good ol' days when people could just drink behind the school by the dumpsters were all but long gone.

So, as with any rebelling nerd, Martin managed to squeeze into Eden University where you could be nobody and nobody would care. All people cared about in Eden University (at night) was whether you could bring a bunch of girls to a certain shindig, or if you had connections to certain substances (that Martin himself would never touch). At least that's what Martin thought college life at night was good for. He had a certain pessimistic lens on all sorts of things in life. This, however, wasn't cured in college and as a result still limited him in the art of speech with another human being face to face. So talking so casually to another person whom Martin had never met before had severe anxiety repercussions.

"T...K? L-Like the guy who texted m-me not too long ago T....K?" Martin turned to glance at the girl for a moment, assess what she was doing here. His face got a very suspicious look as he blurted, "D-Did he blackmail y-you too?!" His very accusatory statement was backed up by a voice inflection that bordered on a the lower pitch of human hearing, so it sounded like Martin was more angry than he actually was. The grungy student just wanted to know what T.K. took from his apartment, now that he saw that this blond kid was threatening others.

At that moment, the girl in the wheelchair dropped her pencil and followed it on the floor soon after, distracting Martin. The offended smoker had a moment when pity slashed across his face and he almost abandoned his accusation but another person ran towards the fallen girl and started to talk to her. Seeing as someone had that handled, Martin turned back to dead stare down the mysterious hipster who texted him not ten minutes ago.

[Hymusia]

She felt stupid, absoloutely idiotic, and at the same time she felt angry. Mostly with herself and partly with the other students. Her therapist had taught her how to get up unaided, how she could get herself back to her chair when there was no one to help her. Even from this position it wasn't incredibly difficult. It was though humiliating; in her mind, and uncomfortable, because while the limb was as heavy as lead with all the use of a numbed leg, it still perceived pain and jarring it the wrong way would send spikes of agony all the way up her leg and into her spine. She was scared of that, scared of the laughs if she had to flatten herself to the ground and commando crawl to her chair just to get back in. Scared of the general perception of those gathered, not to mention the now confirmed group mates in the area.

The least humiliating way she could think of getting up would be to try and get her good foot under herself and push herself up. However since she could put no weight on the dead leg's knee -with any hope of it remaining stationary and acting like an anchor- she didn't see how it was possible at all. If her friend was here and hadn't graduated already she'd have helped her up in a flash. She'd have said Yoshiko, get up now, it doesn't matter what these idiots think. She was her motivator, but they didn't get to see as much of each other any more and she certainly couldn't help with school any more. The others she thought of as friends would be practising for the recital now or moving onto the drama classes they took, which was all the way on the other side of campus.

So she was stuck on the ground until someone decided to help her, which, in this university, could be a while. Luckily though it wasn't as long as she'd thought, she vaguely heard someone shooing off the people that were just standing around, uncertain if they should help or not. Then heard herself being addressed, "Are you going to be alright here?" It said. Oh yes, don't mind me, I love kneeling in the dirt, incapable of moving and the subject of everyone's pity. She thought, but what came out was. “M-my leg is at an a-awkward angle. I c-can't get up.”
"I can help if you want." Said the person, who she'd turned her face partially to see, You can? So why aren't you? Seriously. However what came out was. “I-if you do-don't mind. I wo-won't be able to g-get up alone. Thank you.” It annoyed her on some level, inside she was quick witted, perhaps even rude, but most definitely a stronger personality, but by the time the thoughts became words they'd shrunk into tiny, polite sentences which she stammered through with no confidence what so ever. Even her internal and external voices sounded incredibly different, when she spoke her voice was carefully levelled so as not to offend anyone, it was dainty but her words were clearly enunciated. Offering him a tired out smile and trying to reach her hand out for her fallen music book; which had her name on the cover, without toppling over, which she soon found out to be a lot harder than she thought.

[Vietmyke]

"I'm actually Miu. Not too familiar with the other names I saw on the list, but I suppose we shall both meet them soon, right?"

TK laughed, he had gotten it wrong, well he had a fifty-fifty chance, so no one could really blame him. He reached out and lightly squeezed Miu's hand. Her hand was a good bit smaller than his, and she was a good smaller than he was. Not surprising, he was lanky and tall, and tended to be a bit taller than most people, if not by much.

"Haha, that's too bad, I was close!" He chuckled, as he returned her smile with a grin of his own.

TK glanced at her and glanced away, thinking of something to say while they waited. It was rather odd that the rest of the group hadn't shown up yet, Class had only ended just recently, but had ended. TK opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a sharp cry of pain and turned in time to see the girl in the wheelchair fall from her seat, who had seemed to be in the process of reclaiming her fallen music book, which quite clearly had the name Yoshiko Fukusaku written on it. TK let out a rueful grin, well. He had found one.

Shortly after her fall, she was attended by another student, the last student to appear from the lecture hall. TK vaguely remembered him as one of the professor's favorites. Ar-something. Artie? No. Arthur? It must have been Arthur, the professor didn't have many favorites. This was good news then, it meant that they had found two of their five members and were just missing one more. They could all meet up, and things would probably get settled and they could all head home, how nice. He was about to voice that fact to Miu when he was interrupted by the smoker.

The smoker had actually dropped his cigarette, and seemed quite upset for some reason, perhaps it was because he had dropped his smoke? No, the smoker seemed upset at TK himself, as he walked over. The smoker had a nervous stride, a combination of the effects of smoking as well as perhaps some social awkwardness? Nevertheless, the smoker walked up to him and looked him straight in the eyes. TK saw something that looked like anxiety in his eyes, god knew why. TK's nose wrinkled a bit as the smoker got closer. He reeked of cigarette smoke and booze. He looked messy and unkempt and looked as though he had been partying hard the previous night. Or he had just been getting flat out wasted. Either way, partying hard or just getting flat out wasted, there wasn't much distinction between the two.

"T...K? L-Like the guy who texted m-me not too long ago T....K?"

The guy stuttered and shook like he was nervous or something. It took TK a moment to realize that he had just located their last team member. What luck! TK didn't have time to answer before the guy shifted his attention to Miu standing beside him and asked, "D-Did he blackmail y-you too?!" His voice was surprisingly low and hostile, despite its stutter. Had the student left out the stutter, and been a bit taller and less grungy, TK may have been intimidated. But at this point, looking at the smoker who seemed to need another smoke, all TK could do was suppress a laugh.

It didn't work that well, stiffling a few mirthful chuckles, TK quickly straightened his face and glanced the smoker dead in the eye with cold seriousness. Behind his cold eyes, TK was rolling with laughter, he couldn't resist, he had to do this. He turned to face Miu, his face obscured from the smoker's view, and gave Miu a slight grin, and a knowing glance, giving a face that seemed to say "play along".

"I'll deal with you in a second." TK said to Miu, coldly, threateningly. His eyes, still obscured from the smoker's face, betrayed traces of humor. He turned abruptly to face the smoker. He glanced at him impassively, and looked at his watch.

"Yeah I'm TK, what of it?" he replied, returning the smoker's hostility.

"Who are you? Can't you see I'm busy? TK snarled, hoping the smoker wouldn't reply with something stuttered, lest TK burst out laughing.

[Celestial]

Miu accepted his gentle handshake as he laughed. "Haha, that's too bad, I was close!" He was indeed close. For not having met before, she wasn’t expecting him to know her too well. Similarly, she wasn’t too familiar with him as well; it was because of this project that they know met each other.

“I suppose you were,” she said as she let out a small laugh. “Now, I guess we play the waiting game for the others. Hopefully they’ll get here soon; I really don’t feel like waiting around all day for them.” Miu stopped to take another look around. She noticed the girl in the wheelchair still going at in her composition book. A small distance away, the student that reeked of smoke still lingered about. Whatever his reasons for doing so, she couldn’t begin to understand.

She sighed as she leaned against the fountain as a small breeze filled the courtyard. She flipped out her PFT to check the time. They had been waiting for close to a half an hour now. The others should have been here by now. As she stowed it away, a yelp of surprise caught her attention. She looked to the direction of the girl in the wheelchair and saw that she had fallen. The notebook sat ruffled on the ground while the fallen girl tried to get up.

As Miu moved to help the fallen girl, another student had beaten her to it. She recognized him. His name was Arthur, or so she thought, the student in some of her classes that took his education seriously. She mentally rapped her brain for not remembering him earlier on when she saw the list. She looked on with apt interest as she saw him act like the most noblest of gentlemen. She listened in even if it was rude to eavesdrop. However, since it wasn’t a hushed conversation between the two, it didn’t seem like too significant of an offense.

"Are you going to be alright here?" asked Arthur.

Between a splutter of embarrassment, the flushed girl managed to answer,“M-my leg is at an a-awkward angle. I c-can't get up.”

"I can help if you want."

“I-if you do-don't mind. I wo-won't be able to g-get up alone. Thank you.”

Miu relaxed as she saw that someone else had the decency to help her. There were few other students that were still present in the courtyard who looked on with a mixture of nonsensical amusement and some mock concern. “Tch, some people these days. Laughing at others when they need help. It’s kind of disgusting. I guess that’s the sin of being normal,” she said to no one in general. Still distracted and angered from the bystanders, Miu failed to see the scruffy looking student that had the pleasant aroma of smoke approach TK and her.

"T...K? L-Like the guy who texted m-me not too long ago T....K?"

Miu jumped slightly as she was caught completely by surprise from the new comer. Her nose wrinkled slightly as the unpleasant scent assaulted her sense of smell. On closer inspection, the man looked as if he had just woke up from bed. His hair was slightly ruffled while his eyes still resembled that of a recent awaker from sleep.

To her surprise, he turned to her with a worried look clear in his eyes. "D-Did he blackmail y-you too?!"

Miu looked at him with quizzical expression. She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Blackmail? She didn’t know if he was being serious or not. Judging from his frantic expression, she surmised that he was indeed being authentic in his fear, but she just didn’t understand the reason for his reaction. Before she could respond, TK had spoken up. He had a playful expression on his face as he briefly turned to give her a look before he returned his attention to the accuser before him.

"Yeah I'm TK, what of it?" TK replied, returning the smoker's hostility. "Who are you? Can't you see I'm busy?"

Still slightly confused, Miu decided to entertain his little charade. She put on her best acting face she could muster. She replied to the outraged student in a desperate voice, “... I have no choice... He said if I don’t do it, he’d tell everyone...” she said as she looked at the smoker with sorrowful eyes. On the inside, she was bursting with laughter and awkwardness. You owe me big time for this she thought.

[Hymusia]

“I'll go get the nurse.” The boy had said, he was an honour student, smart too and so she couldn't blame him for his decision. The movement of her leg was easy enough, but if he moved it too quickly or at the wrong angle, well he could damage it more. Not to mention actually lifting her and helping her back to her chair. It could be considered rude and undignified, someone might even take it the wrong way. Then of course there was more chance of dislocating her shoulder or damaging a rib if he didn't do it properly. The nurse would also know how to check for damage to her leg and how to treat any potential damage to it and the marks on her hands and knee.

However, while rational and understandable she couldn't but help to heave a sigh of indignation and give a slight wiggle of her good leg, seeing just how impossible it would be to get under her. Just great, off you run, don't worry about me at all. This is why I prefer the crutches they are so much easier to use. While ranting internally; and externally looking about ready to die of embarrassment, Miu spoke up, saying something Yoshiko always thought but would never had the courage to say. Carefully she shifted her hands closer to her, attempting to get into a better position to help herself up off the floor.

For reason's unfathomable her music teacher was headed that way, spotting a small crowd she'd come to see the commotion and upon spotting his student on the floor rushed over. “Yoshiko! What are you doing down there?” The familiar voice made her smile and she glanced up into the face of her favourite music teacher. A man in his thirties, sandy brown hair, light stubble, a pair of librarian glasses on his nose. “Mister Carlaisse. I fell, a boy was helping me, but he ran off to get the nurse.” Mr. Carlaisse was a talented man, by all rights he ought to have been in the city orchestra, however he had chose to teach here. Able to play the piano, cello, violin, flute, guitar and at least half a dozen other instruments he also conducted and composed his own music. He was a serious teacher for the most part, a little naïve at times so the subject of some gentle teasing by the less serious students; and the girls, tutting beneath his breath it was clear he was not impressed. “I see.” He uttered glancing around, “And I guess these people less than five feet away were paralysed with concern?” Sarcasm, mixed with disappointment, Yoshiko offered an amused shrug.

Wasting no more time Mr. Carlaisse carefully straightened her leg and slipped his arms beneath her 's, lifting her up enough to slip his other arm beneath her. Yoshiko was only slight and due to the amount of time she spent in a wheelchair she weighed virtually nothing. With her arms looped about his neck for support she was carried to her chair where he carefully sat her down. “There, that wasn't so hard. Though lets not make this a habit, alright Yoshiko?” He lightly tousled her hair and she offered him a smile through a slight blush. “I'll try sir.” She responded, repositioning her numb leg and strapping herself back in. “I'm running late, I'm looking forward to your composition, see you in class.” He waved, and she waved back, sighing lightly and turning her attention back to her music book.

However both her music book and her PFT were on the floor still and with open mouthed awe and shook she wondered just how to get them back. She'd traded the Pencil for her book. The PFT would be easy enough to get, the headphones were still plugged in and she carefully hooked her good foot under them to drag the device towards her and then carefully lift it by the headphones and then the head phone cords back to her lap. “Today isn't my day.” She sighed lightly.

[Mercenary Lord]

Eric snapped his laptop shut. Finished. Seeing as he was in his fourth year of college, and was only nineteen, he felt as if he was doing fairly well. He still had straight 'A's', at least. He had taken it upon himself to improve his life, and to improve the lives of others, as well. Most of this took the form of him helping other students finish their projects, or creating things for them, et cetera. In this case, Eric's project had been his own; a fully-fledged, designed-from-scratch World Persona, to replace his old one. The World had an incredible amount of customization options, but he had always wanted to create an avatar from total scratch. The thrill of total creation was always more enjoyable than the thrill of creating with a pre-set collection of features. He had been spending an unhealthy amount of time on his Persona, with the full approval of his old teach and friend, Dr. Ivan Klein. He and the doctor had gotten along very well, and Ivan had taught Eric most of what he knew about Three-Dimensional design. He owed the doctor much. I think I'll show him my finished product! He'll be as happy as I am!

His thoughts were interrupted by the dismissal bell. He groaned. It was only a matter of time, now, before the students would find him. Everyone was always pestering him with requests and invitations. For whatever reason, every single person on campus wanted to be his best friend. Or at least, that's what it felt like. He decided to make himself scarce. He slipped his custom-built laptop into it's bag, and stood up. The laptop model he had named K-ODMaKS, or Kronos-Overdrive, Mark Six. He preferred Kodmaks. It was much easier on the tongue. He looped the case over his shoulder, and said his goodbyes to the librarian. Then he left. He never carried his books around, any more. He had asked for help from a group of people-naturally, they all agreed- and had transferred all of his books to the ten-terabyte hard drive installed in the machine, along with all of his work, projects, and the like. His computer was his school. He had spent a month designing the plans, and then, using money from his massive scholarship, purchased the laptop at close to five-thousand dollars. It was not a popular decision, at least from what the board told him. They disliked him spending so much money on his laptop, but what could they do? Once he started to excel even more, they shut up, and let him do what he wanted.

He tore his thoughts away from Kodmaks, and found himself looking into Dr. Klein's room. The doctor himself was cleaning up from his latest lecture, and preparing for his next one. He stopped as Eric made his way in, and grinned broadly. "Eric, my friend! How might I be of assistance?" Eric had long become accustomed to Ivan's accent, and so it was really no trouble for him to understand the man.

"Oh, Sir, I just wanted to show you my finished project! The one you helped me on, remember? I just finished!"

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "Wonderful! Let's take a look at it! I..." He trailed off. "Actually, Eric. I am most curious to see your creation, but I'd like to ask a favor."

"Sure, professor, shoot." Eric grinned.

"Well..." Ivan glanced around. "Do you remember that project your class did a while ago, the one about re-creating a World scene?"

"Yeah, I remember. What does that have to do with anything?" Already, Eric thought he understood, he simply wanted to confirm it.

"Well, I've assigned that project again, and one group in particular worries me. They're all around your age, and most of them are bright individuals, but I have my doubts. One boy in the group is a...damaged...child. He drinks, he smokes, and I worry for him. Another boy is a lazy student. The only thing he cares about is music. One of the girls is a cripple." Ivan wasn't embarrassed telling Eric his discomforts; Eric had proven his maturity time and time again. "The last girl is fairly normal, although I can tell she has potential. And the last boy is similar to you in an uncanny amount of ways. I feel like they would have a bit of trouble working together, and so, I'd like to ask you to join their group. You wouldn't get a grade, or anything, but it would be nice if you could apply your considerable abilities to the project, to try and help them along. Would you consider this?"

Ivan fell silent, and Eric stayed silent, thinking. Finally: "Sure, I'll do it. It isn't like I'm doing much else, eh?" Ivan laughed.

"Indeed!"

"Do you know where this group is?"

Ivan shook his head. "I don't. I was hoping that would be your job. I have several other things to attend to before my next lecture, after all."

Eric nodded. "That's fine, sir, I'll find them. They can't have gotten too far..." He pulled a portable drive out of his bag, and handed it to Dr. Klein. "There's a copy of my project on this. I figured you might be busy, so I put it on this drive so you can look at it when you have time. Thanks, sir!" Eric jogged out of the room.

"You're welcome, Eric. Any time!"

*

Eric bumped into a student on his way to his first hiding spot. The guy had brown hair, and a determined look about him ((Arthur)). "Sorry, dude." Eric kept going, fervently hoping that his peer hadn't recognized him. He made his way to the courtyard, and lo and behold, there was the group. One looked ragged, one looked bored. One girl was in a wheelchair, and the other seemed...normal, he figured. This had to be the group. He slowed to a walk, and approached the group. Maybe they wouldn't recognize him either. That would be nice. "Hello, there! Sorry I'm late! I was sick this morning, so Dr. Klein emailed me the information. I think he might have forgotten to tell you all, though." The lie was simple. "Anyway, I'm Eric."

He glanced around, and saw the notebook, still on the ground, splayed open, with intricate musical designs flowing across the pages. "Wow." His voice was appreciative without being overly enthusiatic. He scooped the book up, and offered it to the disabled girl. "Is this yours?" He was still staring at the music. "This is impressive. I've always wanted to learn how to compose music, and I've wanted to play an instrument since I was young, too. Is there any chance you might be able to teach me one of the two? Having a friend teaching me would be a lot better than finding some teacher who doesn't know to do it." He smiled at the girl. He liked her already, and he had barely even met her. Then he ran the image of all the students through his mind. The grubby guy had seemed like he was uneasy and in some form of discomfort, although given the circumstances, Eric didn't blame him.

He liked the disabled girl. The lazy guy, with the guitar, had yet to say anything, but he seemed pretty laid back. The other guy, the uptight one, didn't seem to be around. And...and the other girl. She was a looker, that one. He'd have to see her personality first, but he made a mental note to not do anything embarrassing in this girls company. This all happened in his head, while he was smiling at the girl in the wheelchair. Abruptly, he straightened, and looked back at them all. "Well. I'm afraid you know me, but I don't know any of you. What're your names?"

((I LIIIIIIIIVE!))

[Sarcor]

Martin's eyes narrowed instantly as T.K. started to spout pure antagonizing rhetoric. The teen's stance shifted to a more defensive position. More than anything, Martin hated bullies, and it seemed that this blond T.K. was a major one. Thoughts raced through Martin's barely awake brain, ranging from questions about what this person took from his room while he was passed out and what could this guy possibly want from this other girl's collection of possessions. Wild theories and inane explanations whirled in Martin's mind while he opened his mouth to retaliate.

YOU...took something from my room...d-didn't you?! This accusation was followed by a finger stabbing the air in front of T.K., like all Martin needed was that to prove that this individual indeed made off with something from his dorm room.

I know you did...that's right, why else would you text me?! Muttering under his breath, the chain smoker grabbed his scruffy chin and started to scratching it. Then, suddenly, Martin truned to the redheaded girl and changed the inflection of his voice again. Now he sounded quite surprised, as he indeed was.

What happened to you? What did he say you have to do? Wait, what? Her response utterly confused him, because it wasn't at all what he was expecting to come out of her mouth. Do what? Tell everyone about what? Martin had been clearly referring to stolen possessions, hadn't he?

Actually...whoops. Martin had an inherent of problem of voicing some thoughts and some not. For some unfathomable reason he expected people to hear his inner monologue as he worked through his thoughts. So these situations where he was confused, panicked, and angry actually happened a lot.

Just then, the student helping up the wheelchair bound girl ran off somewhere quite suddenly as he had come. Martin was so engrossed in his concern and worry that he didn't even acknowledge a professor come by and help the disabled girl himself. Neither did he notice a new figure approach the ensuing fountain fiasco with judgmental air.