Keyport Academy, the school for students that other schools can't deal with anymore. Setting aside the high brick walls designed to ensure nobody slips out, the campus is surprisingly large and well-kept. To keep students from noticing they're essentially in a prison, most likely. The charges? Various. From violence to badmouthing, from disruption to ignoring teachers, Keyport Academy was geared to take on any and all trouble students. The remote mountain locale of the school made for a pretty view as well. Today, on this otherwise-completely-ordinary day in the beginning of October, a new student was being transferred in. She was Marilyn Jones, a senior.

The thing about Keyport Academy, however, is that - probably because the staff doesn't want to run the risk of secret meetings - a class is given a single classroom. None of that changing rooms every bell like in most schools. As a result, if someone was in your class, they were with you from the start of the day until school let out and you were free to return to your dorms or explore the campus. However, the teacher had urged that Marilyn introduce herself. He also called her by that name; Marilyn. She hated that name. Standing up in the front of the class, she began her introduction. She didn't sound enthusiastic in the least, even by the standards of the unenthusiastic introductions students in this school foten gave when they were forced to stand before their classmates and introduce themselves.

"I'm Marilyn Jones. Just call me Jone." Even her expression was bored as hell. As though she were mentally saying, I can think of so many things I'd rather be doing right now. Not irritated at all, just...bored. "It seems I'll be in your class for the remainder of this year. If you have any questions, ask away." Then it was the teacher's turn to speak up.

"A fair few of our students seem to be out sick today," the teacher - a grizzly old man who looked quite in shape despite how obviously old he was - stated. "I must be getting old. I can't seem to remember which seats aren't taken. Do any of you know about an empty seat Ms. Jones here could take?"

From the back, and rather shockingly tall bifauxnen type rolled her eyes, and returned to scribbling in a notebook. To her right, a girl with a bunny ear band stood up, and proceeded to hop up and down excitedly, "Oh, oh! Thar be goot seatens be-fur meh~!" The way she spoke was rather...well, plainly put, it was most definitely intentional. Stopping her hopping, she smiled and pointed at the desk in front of her which was--low and behold, free of persons and such. A tiny, petite girl with startling red hair and bright aqua blue eyes face palmed across the room, before slipping under hear desk rather swiftly and leaving the classroom altogether.

A girl wearing a pink sporty jacket was balancing a soccer ball on her head when the door slammed, "Woah~!" Causing her to drop the ball...but skillfully catch it with her foot, kick it up, catch it with her hand, then balance it on her head again.