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The atmosphere was dense, clouds overcastted the blue, forbidding any rays of illumination to flicker through. A fusion of emotion penetrated the air. The assemblage of new students was large and even though the grand doors to the school had not yet been opened for them there already stood a chain of command; a hierarchy. Nobilities winced at the approach of the plebeians and as a result the scent of blood already infused the air.
A female, whose aura glowed a blinding white, leisurely made her way around the new comers – simply observing the species she was to interact with. Majority bestowed a face of disgust and repulsion at the sight of her; pure angels had that affect on others. The disgust stemmed from the fact that everything about this female dazzled with angelic purity; a quality most species cannot even begin to define. Rosalina Bell glued her eyes down to the earth as she moved with poise through the crowd back towards a rebellious looking male, situated on the sidelines, smoking. When one looked at him, it was not unusual for them to be somewhat puzzled as to which class he fell into; demon or angel. The atmosphere around him was fly, one could say cool, though he full of his own self-importance. Smugly aligned with the small wall, a cigarette in one hand and the other in his pocket, Christopher blew the recycled smoke up at the approach of Rosalina.
“Nervous?” he asked he as she reapproached him.
“There aren’t a lot of pure angels here,” she answered disregarding his question.
“There aren’t a lot of you left.”
“Yes the plebeians do outweigh the noble here. I do wish I hadn’t received acceptance to this academy.”
“Careful with that talk Rose,” he raised one eyebrow at the passing mass, “these...people... might have something to offer,” raising both eyebrows at a particular passing mass of hair and muscle he continued, “and some of them might take offence.”
Rose’s eyes followed the thing which she could only assume was some giant mixbreed as it walked towards the stairs, the doors dwarfing even its shoulders.
At the other side of the clearing, two beings appeared, one male, one female; the male stood tall and proud, a dark scrutinizing scowl on his features as he looked around at the lower classes of being. He held a particular aura, a dark and stern one – everything about him screamed dominance; something which gained the attention of other students as they stared at him with malice and hate in their eyes. Most didn’t recognise him – although, the second they heard his name, they would know exactly who they were dealing with.
To his right, the female stood – a blunt and bored expression on her face as her lips turned down into a small pout. Her body language was much the same, she leant most of her body weight on the hand which was placed on her waist, while her head was tilted slightly to the side – everything about her screamed that she simply didn’t want to be there.
The male folded his arms over his chest, his gaze flickering to his companion before scanning the crowd again,
‘For the love of all that is evil, Melody, try to make at least, decent acquaintances in this place,’ he stated in a cold, emotionless tone. A small smirk befell her features,
‘What are you saying – I’m a bad judge of character?’ she queried, sounding hurt, yet amused – she was obviously mocking him; his gaze shifted back to her as he sent a slight glare her way,
‘What I’m saying is, I wouldn’t put it past you to befriend a Screamer or some other waste of existence,’ he muttered; her brow furrowed into a look of confusion,
‘What’s a screamer?’ she asked, her gaze shifting to the ground – as if she was going to find the answer to her question down there,
‘Exactly,’
At the sound of the grand doors unbolting, silence befell the newcomers and after an extended amount of time, Head Master Socratic emerged dressed in his cleric uniform. He gazed apathetically at his new students, holding their gaze, securitizing them.
“Welcome to my Academy of Vendace Halls,” his words were formal with a voice of authority, “you have all been accepted to attend my school for individual reasons. My staff and I do sustain a sense of thrill and are all eager to see how you endure your time here. It is inevitable that in the coming weeks you will start to create enemies and I suppose friendships too. You will begin a particularized schedule in which you must attend. You will also start to explore ways to fill your days and evenings – with the less tangible part of your education here - the student experience. Aside from the outstanding education you will receive at Vendace Halls, I can tell you from personal experience that for Vendace Hall’s graduates, it is overwhelmingly the student experience that stays with us and you for that matter, the longest,” Socratic chuckled at this, it seemed to amuse him.
“There are literally hundreds of groups on campus, and endless opportunities to assist in your graduation. I encourage you to get involved. Dreams are born and are challenged; some survive and grow; others die. You will certainly see me walking around campus and dropping in to unexpected places like the residence dining halls. I wish you all the best for a stimulating and rewarding, challenging four years on this campus, which will be the start of what I hope will be a lifelong experience as members of the Vendace Hall’s family.”
As he finished his speech he held the stillness for a moment before turning on his heel and re-entering the school. The students stood in silence as they observe the grand doors open up to them in an almost intimidating fashion.
“The beginning of the end,” Christopher mocked the cold voice of the head master as he nudged Rosalina’s side, “it’s saying ‘walk into your impending doom’.”
“Agreed that Socratics words were evidently mocking the fact that half of these students will not be graduating,” Rosalina answered indirectly.
“Don’t worry Rose, I got your back covered,” Christopher replied smugly as he stepped aside in order to let her pass him, indicating with his hand for her to be the forerunner. She showed reluctance, breathing in deeply with her eyes closed and holding the air for a second before exhaling. “Perhaps,” she held her head high as she elegantly moved past him, “but who has your back Chris?”
Instinctively he glanced all-round, catching the eyes of a hunched black clad individual, glaring back. This personage gave the impression that he was verging to charge at Chris. Chris scowled, his entrance to the school being delayed. He shuffled sideways so as to avoid a group of noble looking initiates but the glare of the hunchback didn’t waver from his eyes. He sighed deeply clenching his right hand as the hairs on his arms uplifted, charging with ambient static, prepared for the hunchbacks charge,
“Chris?” the tiny voice of Rosalina, oddly loud in his ears, “could I maybe see the school for the first time without the screaming?”
His watch detached from the hunchback’s, little by little as he twisted to face Rosalina’s pleading expression, so she was nervous after all.
The two Demons watched the interaction between the – they weren’t quite sure what he was – and the hunchback with interest. Vincent sighed before passing him briefly, not bothering to look at the mere waste of existence, as he saw it anyway. Melody followed close behind, quickly pausing to look at the boy who had just stopped the hunchback right in its tracks; there was no denying it, the kid was powerful, she only wondered to what length his power extended to. Vincent had mastered the element of Fire and wasn’t far off Air; Melody was still having trouble mastering. As fast as she had captured it, she broke eye contact with the boy and continued on, down the hall, after her friend.
Vincent looked down at the elegant looking blonde as he passed her; there was no denying it, one had to simply look at her and know she was an Angel – a Pure Angel at that; they were hard to come by these days. His dark eyes moved from her to straight in front of him once more as he quickened his pace and placed his hands in his pockets – he wasn’t in the mood for social activity, especially if it meant having to get blood on his new suit.
‘Hurry up, Melody,’ he stated firmly, ordering her to come into line with him, which she silently obliged, breaking into a jog to catch up to him.
‘Welcome to Hell’s Academy,’ she murmured with a smirk, ‘where the definition of insanity is not being paranoid,’
