It was the end of the school day in Oakenheim High, Kanoa Marigold knew this because the bell had rang. She hated this school's bell, it was loud, electronic, and gave her a bad taste in her mouth like copper coins. Her mouth wriggled like a snake on a hot plate as she tried to get the sensation off of her tongue. Her fellow classmates had already sprouted from their seats like Jack in the Boxes, she knew it was Friday and all, but Kanoa didn't see the need to rush anywhere. Last time she checked the mall and other teenage hangouts weren't going anywhere. "Hmm." Kanoa reached for her phone and did a quick search on the web. "Yep, not going anywhere..." The classroom emptied out, and only when she was the only one left did she exit herself. She really hated lines, the person behind and in front of you always expected so much from you. Step too slowly and they'd stomp on your heel, step too quickly and you'd bump into someone's poor unsuspecting back. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked through the halls. Students were storming through the school like they always did, though she had to be thankful this town's population wasn't very large. Dense crowds tended to overload her senses, to the point she almost felt as if she were wading through a pool of assorted paints. Reds, blues, yellows, browns and purples, people's unique voices poured into her relentlessly. She let out a lazy sigh, and continued on her way. At the back of the school there was an empty classroom, there was a problem with the circuitry that caused the lights to burst whenever someone tried to change them, because of this the room was eerily dimmer than most others. Light seeped through a boarded window's gaps like an aperture, allowing just enough light inside the room to be serviceable, at least for her needs. A boy was standing in front of the room's entrance tossing a key up and down in his hand. He saw Kanoa and turned towards her. "You know, just because you're the student council president doesn't mean you can order me around." He said, tossing the small object to her. She caught it, and gave it a quick glance before slipping it in her pocket. "Good work, I trust you sent the invitations as well, vice-president?" She asked. The boy groaned and ran a hand through his blond hair, not too enthused that his complaint was ignored. "Yeah yeah, I'm going now, I've got a date, enjoy your freaky club." He said, turning to leave, but Kanoa hugged him from behind. "Oh~? A date with who, vice-president?" "None of your business Kanoa, and stop calling me that, I have a name ya know!?" He struggled to shake her off, but her grip was surprisingly strong. She ignored his complaints once more, choosing instead to sniff his hair. "Is that cologne? you must really like this girl, you never wear that stuff." She took another whiff of the aroma. "Blueberry muffins?" She said, finally letting him go. "That's not even close to what it's supposed to be, honestly, you need to get your head checked out!" He ranted, hurrying off before she decided to grab him again. Kanoa shrugged her shoulders and walked into the room, it was a little dusty, but she could easily fix that with a little elbow grease. She took a seat on a desk in the back of the room, which happened to be the brightest part of the room. Officially, she had taken this room for her 'club of the occult,' however, she had another purpose in mind. The invitations she had sent out were vague, yet clear to those that they were intended for. The invitations simply said. To those that are aware of the unseen and unexplained, you are not alone. Strange things have been happening in this town, and while many refuse to accept this, or are unable to, we have the opportunity to do something about it. If you wish to know more, then please meet me in room 12C. I will understand if you ignore this message.

Jackson was walking in down the halls of the school, wearing a plain black shirt, some dark blue jeans, and a hooded jacket with the hood pulled up over his face, wondering if he should be doing this. 'Messing with this stuff is what ruined my life in the first place, why am I risking it happening again by joining this stupid club.' He grumbled in his head, already knowimg why he was doing this. He needed this chance to be able to talk about his experience, hopefully helping him move on from what happened. And maybe, a way to get rid of him. Ahhhh, don't you like my company, Jacky-boy, I assure you I have your best interest at heart. Just let me in to your soul, into your mind, and give me control. Aphosis' words slithered through his mind like snakes, but Jackson shook off the spirit's words, not letting it get to him. That would only make the situation worse, of that he was sure. Jackson soon found himself in front of the club doors and, after standing their for a good ten minutes readying himself, opened the door. He immediately noticed he was the first one to arrive. Fuck. "Um, he-hello, my name is Jackson Ducarthym pleasure to make your aquaintence." Jackson mumbled, walking over to a seat in a darker section of the room. He pulled his hoid down over his face, only a few strips of his raven hair sticking out from underneath, the rest was of his features being hidden. Jackson hoped someone else would show soon,he wasn't good at starting conversation.

"Ow. Ow! OW STOP THAT!" August gave the old computer a punch, immediately yelping as her knuckles cracked across the metallic surface. Mr. Grant, leaning on the nearby counter, gave a sigh. "Please don't punch school property Miss Battaglia." "Well it won't stop shocking me! Seriously, how old is this thing, it's shorting out every time I touch it!" "Most electronics do that because you touch them as I recall. Are you saying you can't fix it?" "I fixed it ten minutes ago, I'm enhancing it now." August found her screwdriver yanked from her hand sharply. "That's quite enough! No tinkering, thank you for your help!" "Oh come on, I bet I could make this thing scream! Maybe even literally." The red head slid out from under the desk, brushing herself off vigorously as she adjusted her glasses. Her braid had been tied up in a large spiraling loop while she had been on the ground, to avoid dust getting into the huge mass of fiery locks. She gave a pout, which considering her features, was QUITE pronounced and pathetic looking. "You're working with obsolete equipment!" "It's what the school provides, thank you for fixing it, that'll be enough for me." August gave a huff, but didn't fight too hard. For starters, her fingers were feeling tingly from the repeated shocks the obstinate little machine had given her. Secondly, Mr. Grant controlled her grades and lacked a sense of humor. Thirdly, she had a place to be. The letter sitting in her backpack had piqued her interest far too much to not follow up on. Untying her hair so the braid fell against her backside with a suprisingly heavy thump, she grabbed her bag and headed out of the room, waving to her teacher as she navigated the river that was Oakenheim High. She was at a distinct advantage and disadvantage with her size...she could squeeze through fairly easily, but people also tended to not notice her until they had run into her. Despite her bright red hair, the vibrant cream colored sweater, and cherry red sneakers, she barely came up to chest height for most of the students. Her head was already full of different concepts and ideas for her next experiment as she made a beeline towards room 12C. August knew the room well, the lights were janked, and most people believe it had been her that did it. It hadn't, but still, her reputation preceded her. She arrived in time to hear a boy talking, but didn't catch anything he said. Straightening her glasses, flipping her braid over her shoulder, and giving a smile, she walked in, then halted as she saw only two people. Immediately her train of thought derailed in it's usual manner as she scanned the pair, her smile replaced with a quirked grin that she always wore when thinking too fast, one eyebrow cocked low. "What, this is it? Oh wait, I'm early? Well, early-ish, if you two beat me. Unless one of you sent the letter. Okay, I'm early. Man I fixed the computer faster than I thought...totally could have done more...I'm August, by the way. I'm in the right room, right?" She leaned backwards out the door, grabbing the side as she looked at the number from a near horizontal orientation. Yup, right room. She whipped back in, heading over to a desk between the boy and the girl. Classrooms always had odd emotions. Pride, depression, nervousness, a whooooole lot of lust, joy, anger. This class had some lingering tastes that kept popping up. Very faded though, diluted, and she had gotten used to the kaleidoscope of emotions that came from hormonal teenagers. Hell, she was feeling them still, so they weren't exactly new. She sat cross legged on top of the desk, grinning at the pair as she waited for one of them to respond to her greeting.

A sour, yellow note. There it was again. Ellis' eyes narrowed at the back of Sarah Langtree's lilac blouse. Why did she make that sound? Was she making that sound? Ellis rubbed his forehead anxiously. He wished it would stop. Narrow gaze shifting he tried to ignore the sound, turning his focus on the front of the room. What period was it? History? No. Jesus. It was physics. He liked physics. He hadn't heard a word the teacher had said all period. The homework he'd handed in was a mess of figures. He was certain he'd failed it. Ellis had never failed at anything. He tried to make out the equation on the board. It was hazy. Ellis adjusted his glasses. No, it wasn't his eyes. The whole room was hazy, there was a fog, almost the same color as Sarah's shirt that filled the room. No one else seemed to notice it. Ellis wanted to hold his breath, he didn't want to breath whatever it was in. He wanted out of the room. The ringing bell almost made him jump out of his skin. No one noticed. No one ever noticed. Ellis was good at keeping a lid on his nerves. He didn't flinch, he didn't twitch. He got up easily from his desk, packed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, and sauntered, not walked out of the room. He didn't take a breath until he was in the hall. The air still smelled. It left a taste in his mouth. Like emulsified molasses. Ellis breathed. He tried to ignore the symbols in the shadows, the ones that looked like they might cut his eye if he looked at them too hard. He could feel the note throb in the bag on his back. It had beat like a heart, pulsing in his hand the moment he'd picked it up. It hadn't stopped since. A club for the occult, huh? Months ago the thought would have amused and delighted. Now it just unnerved him. Ellis could feel the world unravel. No, not unravel. It wasn't coming apart. That would imply that it was seamless before. No. Now he could just see it for what it was. He looked at the tiles under his feet. He used to try and walk only on one color. A small game as he walked from class to class. Now he tried to walk on different colors. There were colors no one else could see, and they filled the yawning gaps that he knew existed between the tiles. The world was like a wire net, thin, stretched, so fragile above the maelstrom over which they were all suspended. Ellis wished he didn't have to know that. Before and long after he had known it, Ellis found himself in front of 12c. He wished he could truly ask himself why he'd come. He couldn't. Ellis knew precisely why he was here. Ellis touched a hand to the doorknob. It felt like wet satin. He breathed. He opened the door. Colorful bunch. His first thought. He recognized faces. Marigold. New council prez. Not much competition around here. He didn't know much about her. She like to paint. Probably a little nuts. Nice curves. Little orange moth-shapes beat around her, throbbing like the letter she must have sent. August. Batty. Knew her a little better. Tended to make a bit of a spectacle of herself. Wizard with what she did. Certainly a little nuts. Cute, in a mousy kind of way. There was a keening to her, like the last octave going out on an old amp. The only other male in the room looked like he was trying to hide. Ellis didn't know him very well. Jackson something. New kid. Seemed unhappy with life. Join the club. He smelled like cinnamon and sulfur. They were an odd bunch, that was for sure. So why did Ellis feel like the outsider? He only took a moment to take the room and it's occupants in. Shrugging in what he hoped and did look like a nonchalant fashion he threw his bag down at a desk next to August. Sitting down he kicked his own long legs up on the seat of the desk in front of him, folding his arms over his chest, glancing sidelong at the red-head. "Hey there Batty, what's the word?"

Observant gray optics noticed one of the ex-soccer students rubbing their shin gingerly, presumably a tibia fracture sustained from an old injury on the field—if Raven had to guess. He had not been able to play in weeks and his physical and mental anguish were apparent, especially to the Lolita. It was an aura followed by three tiers. Tier one followed shallow pain and was most easily altered while tier two was physical but tier three was true emotional pain and was commonly inaccessible. Only the malevolent spirit could touch tier three but given time Raven was sure she could mend it, not hinder. She watched as he pitifully pressed one laptop key at a time with a jagged index finger, resting his head on an angled palm. His chest rose with a long drawn inhale, lazily peering up to the teacher until the bell rang with freedom. His soccer buddies paid him little mind these days, finding favor in another that took his place. They waved at him before hurrying out the door in high spirits, soon another game would take place and they planned to win. Raven casually dropped her hands continuing to survey this poor soul as he soon limped out the door. She gathered her belongings, a cupcake capsule, and the letter that accidentally fluttered to the floor like a white feather. This message reminding her to the engagement she needed to attend. Little time was needed in order to fix ‘soccer guys’ turmoil. He was going the same direction as her after all. Plan of action called for inconspicuous behavior so she took a deep breath and rushed past purposely bumping into him. This caused the already troubled teen to stumble forward but fast hands grabbed onto his arm, which pulled him back to a stand before he could fall over fully…and it was done. Touch was not necessarily needed to help dissolve the pain but it did help, especially if tending to the exact spot of discomfort. How awkward would that be however, to start massaging a student’s shin in the middle of the hallway? Raven would never. “My apologies but um, sorry, can’t stay! Bye!” She said in a cutesy manner before scurrying off toward room 12c. Before turning a corner she peeked back to look at the boy as he was arching a brow at his leg able to walk without pain, and a satisfied smirk crossed her pale lips. Brownie points for her she thought happily. A hand nervously straightened out her ivory button down shirt and black pleaded skirt, with eyes catching the hands on her wristwatch. Time was rapidly passing as she was struggling with trying to find this damn room when ashen eyes finally spotted the door, which she had walked past time and time again. With a shake of her head in ire she inched forward, turning the knob to enter a quiet place. There were few voices but that did not dissuade her from chiming in. “Hello.” Raven greeted with a warm smile and light wave while scanning the room. None of these people were familiar except for a few of their faces. Raven tended to keep to herself due to her ability. Not only was being surrounded by an immense amount of stranger’s pain exhausting, she sometimes had the negative effect of causing more of it to unsuspecting people—especially those closest to her. “I baked cupcakes for everyone. They are organic.” Cheerfully she stated to the group before biting her lower lip pondering how to place these without being rude. “Pardon.” Reaching over the man with feet nonchalantly perched upon the wooden table she carefully set down the rounded container. Slender fingers with tidy long nails lifted the tupperware top revealing the contents inside. They were beautiful, each circular dessert with either a red or pink rose. Raven had been practicing her frosting skills but the cake itself may prove deceiving. She could create lovely pieces sure, but making them taste good was a whole different trial and she had not taste tested this batch. “Are there many more joining us?” Quizzically Raven asked after casting a worrisome glance at the little masterpieces, too scared to try one herself.

Jackson stayed silent as the others walked in, that is, until the one girl offered everyone cupcakes. Jackson had a bit of a sweet tooth, and those cupcakes looked pretty good. 'Should I ask for one, or just walk over and take one? But then I'd have to get up, and that would draw their attention to me and I really don't want to deal with that at the moment. But asking for one would do the same thing, possibly forcing me to actually talk to people, but isn't that what I want? Yeah, it is, come on Jackson just toughenn up a little, you can do this.' Taking a breath, Jackson looked up and opened his mouth to speak. "Um, what kind are th-" He started, but stopped as he heard Aphosis' snake-like voice whispering into his mind. What an interesting bunch of friends you have here, I wonder how long it will take for you to get all of them killed like that last bunch. A day, a week, if your lucky, you might get a whole month. That one girl, the short one, looks like bleeder. I wonder how it tastes, don't you? Jackson didn't respond, didn't move, didn't even think. The room had been replaced by darkness, and his ears heard only screams or terror and ghastly wailings. He curled in on himself, head on the desk, clutching his head as he whispered to himself. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up and leave me alone."

The sound of leaves crunching underfoot filled the still air of the blackened woods. A figure ran, slowed by a lack of vision on the moonless night, the trees seemed to stretch upwards forever into the void and the air itself seemed to posses a tangible evil. She couldn't see where she was going, but she kept swerving through the oak trunks. She wasn't the only presence here-- but that was okay, she knew these woods, she knew this aura, this was Oakenheim. She just needed to get out of the forest and she'd be safe. Something causes her to trip. Her consciousness drifts as she falls. The pain of hitting the ground doesn't register, her vision begins to blur, but it isn't from disorientation. It's from a new presence. She quickly recovers and turns toward a familiar face. A man, dressed suavely, but with savage features and hungry eyes, he has the horns of a devil. The girl turns to run, knowing she can't escape him. She can hear him laugh, his sick cackle echoes through the undergrowth and impossibly oil black trees. 'He wants you.' There is a woman. Another woman, different from the running girl. She doesn't move-- she appears. She is the only light in this sinister wood, she appears just within the girl's peripheral vision. She doesn't seem to want to help or harm, she simply is. This woman is pregnant with what looks like the world. The girl tries to find her, she wants anyone to get her away from the horned man, she can feel his sickly fingers brushing against the hair of her neck. She wants to scream but the air won't let her. As she blinks, she bumps into the the pregnant woman. The woman's expression is neutral, as she leans in close to the girl, the hiss of the horned man surrounds them. The pregnant woman's lips are less than an inch away from the girl's ear. The pregnant woman's fair skin becomes cracked, like porcelain, her smile becomes wide and cheshire. The horned man's his has become unbearable. 'You are impure--' Mary woke with a snort. The annoying, electronic bell chimed away signaling the end of classes for the day. Had she actually attended any of the classes? Aside from art or the rare music extra-curricular, she had mostly been pulled through the day. Like an unwilling child dragged to the dentist by an overbearing mother. That was the nature of school, like a microcosm of life, you didn't really want to be there, but you had to be anyway. With a quick shake of her short hair Mary shook any sleep clinging to her person off. By the time she looked up, the classroom was mostly deserted, she was among the few stragglers to keep the teacher from whatever exciting plans he had prepared for the weekend. Mary sighed, she began to gather her things, her mind wandered. What were her plans for the weekend? There weren't any shows going on, so that was out-- she couldn't hang out at the graveyard, there were going to be back to back funerals-- As she hoisted her bag over her shoulder her eyes shot to a sliver of paper that had apparently found it's way to her desk while she slept. "To those that are aware of the unseen and unexplained, you are not alone. Strange things have been happening in this town, and while many refuse to accept this, or are unable to, we have the opportunity to do something about it. If you wish to know more, then please meet me in room 12C. I will understand if you ignore this message." Mary put headphones on before entering the hallway, with one hand, she scrolled through music on her phone, with another, she held the doctored invitation. Her head tilted as she read it. It wasn't like she had anything else to do today. Mary allowed herself to be carried by the conflicting waves of rushing students to room 12C. She hovered outside of the door, anticipating how she'd go about introducing herself to a group of high schoolers interested in the occult. Gripping the bridge of her nose in a sense of preemptive frustration, she darted her eyes around the hallway, looking to see if any authority figures about. The stillness in the air assuaged her fears. Mary pulled out one of her homemade 'herbal cigarettes' and lit it. “Are there many more joining us?” As she entered the room, she blew a plume of lavender smoke ahead of her. Her voice was quiet, "Maybe." Mary found herself hovering by the door, observing the room of hormonal Wiccans. The girl seemed to have made some cupcakes, and a boy-- man? Young adult she had never seen before was asking about them as Mary came in, "Um, what kind are th-" He started only to stop, clutch at his head and then mutter something to himself. Mary's expression was flat, she blew a wisp of smoke in the boy's direction, commenting in a low deadpan, "Metal." She looked over the rest of the prospective club members before her eyes came to rest on Kanoa Marigold. She recognized the girl as an eccentric savant from a few of her classes-- this was probably her club. "So, we gonna sacrifice any goats?"

Maxwell stared at the pencil, his eyes narrowed in concentration, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he leaned on the arm of the chair. Nothing was happening. He was still not entirely convinced that anything should be happening. Perhaps he needed to be clearer with his intentions. Perhaps vagueness was a barrier to progress in a situation like this. He tried to clear his mind of additional thoughts and form a clear mental image of what he wanted to happen. Which had no visible effect that he was able to discern. He sighed to himself and sat upright, walking over to the window of the classroom and staring down at the yard. It was empty save for one of two people rushing toward the gate. At first he had been worried about practising in a public place like a classroom but as it turned out he needn't have worried. If anyone had seen him practising they had kept it to themselves, though it was far more likely that they just blanked it out from their minds. It must have a natural response to the unexplainable. He guessed that until recently he had been exactly the same, his mind closed off from the truth of the world. The truth of the world? The thought made him inwardly cringe at his own egotistical notion that he was now somehow special. Beyond his fellow humans. Now he was angry at himself. Better? Beyond? Then why did he feel so diminished as of late? Maxwell sighed again and shook his head, stuffing his hands deeply into his jacket pockets. He decided to try a slightly different approach. Behind him the sound of pencil on paper was suddenly audible. There was no point in turning around to confirm what he already knew to be true. The pencil was writing on the paper as if gripped by an invisible hand. He closed his eyes in thought. So it was not a matter of concentration but desire? In fact desire seemed far more important than the intention itself. And it got easier each time as well, more natural and that worried him. He had no idea why. He turned around and looked down at the paper. The invitation was still there next to the sheet of paper that he had been practising on. He stared at it in silence for a moment before deciding to give it a chance. In all honesty what was the worst that could happen? He walked past the desk and stuffed the invitation into his jacket pocket and pulled his hood up over his head as he walked out of the empty classroom. The pencil sat motionless on the desk. The potted plant on the teachers desk was dead and withered up. It had been alive when he had entered. Maxwell found his way to the meeting point easily enough. It was dark and unpleasant looking. It lacked life. Or spirit. Or whatever it is that places come to lack over time when left to idle. Even with all the people already present it felt unwelcoming somehow. The lack of light made him a little more relaxed about the whole situation though. It felt appropriate somehow. “Charming,” he said more to himself than to anyone in particular. A cupcake had found its way into his hand despite him having not been anywhere near them. He took a bite and paused for a moment before carrying on chewing without comment. “So, what exactly do you want?” he said before taking another bite.

The door to 12C opened, and Kanoa raised her violet eyes to see who it was that had the privilege of being the first student to respond to her invitation. Jackson Ducarthym shuffled inside, giving her a stifled greeting before sitting down in the darkest part of the room with his hood over his head. Kanoa raised a brow and smiled a derisive grin. "Ya know, you're trying so hard not to stand out you're having the opposite effect." She said. Kanoa didn't know much about Jackson, other than the fact that he obviously wasn't very interested in letting anyone know much about him. His mumbled greeting was the first time she'd heard his voice, it made her see gray. Gray was such an ambivalent color. Soon enough another person walked in, Kanoa had to blink twice as she saw the strands of vibrant red hair on the short girl's head, bright reds were always so... Pushy. It was August Battaglia, someone that was a little infamous in the school. She introduced herself, and sat down on a desk. Kanoa mimicked the smile she gave. "Yes, this is the correct room, glad you could make it, August." She nodded. The next person to walk inside was Orion Ellis. Kanoa glared at him subconsciously. Orion bothered her for some reason, many reasons actually. She had nothing against him personally, however, nearly everything about him pervaded her with obtuse sensations. His voice was like static on an old CRT television, only bits of color specked here and there. And he smelled like... something, whatever it was it made her both aware and on guard at the same time. He took a seat near August, and called her Batty. What an unfortunate last name. "Occult, is the word of the day. Nice to see you could make it, Ellis." Kanoa's tense expression turned lackadaisical once more. Raven Bonnay then walked in, carrying with her a large round container. She greeted everyone with a smile, and said she had brought cupcakes. Kanoa's ears perked up, and she hopped off her seat. An over-sized blue ribbon on her chest bounced as she hurried over to the slew of desserts. She picked up a cupcake adorned with icing roses. "Raven Bonnay, these may be cakes, but you get many brownie points." She shoved the entire cupcake into her mouth. "Urm, a fru muh." She mumbled, in response to her question. It was then that Jackson began to have what looked like a psychotic episode, he was curled on the floor in pain mumbling to himself. Kanoa's chewing only slowed slightly as she glanced at him, though her attention was soon drawn towards Mary. A puff of purple smoke preceded her, at least Kanoa thought it was purple, she could never really be too sure. She didn't bother stating the ramifications of smoking in the school, instead she turned to her and greeted her. "Nif thu mim-..." She finally swallowed the cupcake. "you, Mary, thank you for coming. We won't be sacrificing any goats, not unless something comes up anyhow, you can never be too sure." She said, holding up a finger as if she were saying something factual. She then turned back to Jackson. She looked him over as he writhed in pain, he didn't appear to be sick, and she didn't see him injured. "Hmm..." She glanced upwards, seeming to look at thin air. "I see... A possession." Kanoa whispered, reaching into a pocket on her skirt. She pulled out a thin strip of paper that was etched with strange symbols in the shapes of twisted Latin. She knelled down to Jackson's level and slapped the paper on his forehead. "That should keep things calm for a little while. You may feel a little stiff, but that will wear off. At least it should anyway." As she stood back up she noticed that Maxwell had entered the room. "Oh, hello Maxwell. u-um, nice of you to come." Kanoa coughed anxiously into her arm and walked up to him. Maxwell's presence was a tad unnerving, though not in the same way as Orion's. Maxwell's voice was icy blue, and sent shivers down her spine. It was both inviting, yet frightening. "I've invited you all here for a reason, I assure you. We all have something in common, we know that there are strange things happening in this town. There are ghosts and spirits, perhaps a few monsters. So for those of you who believed that you were alone in noticing these things, you should know that you aren't alone." Kanoa moved to the center of the room, and took a seat in a chair. "I also have a proposition for you all, but first, I'd like to get to know you all better, if that is alright with you that is. My name is Kanoa Marigold, and I was born with the ability to perceive the supernatural. So my tether, my connection to the supernatural, makes me what is simply called a Natrual. Um, does anyone else want to introduce themselves?"

Maxwell surveyed the occupants of the room from under his hood as he listened to Kanoa speak, his penetrating green eyes moving from person to person after a brief moment of contemplation, gauging their reactions to Kanoa's words. He had picked up on her uncertainty when she had greeted him. Had he done something to unnerve her? He got that kind of reaction more often than he would have liked. Regardless his own reaction was that of plain acceptance. A weak, short lived smile found its way to his lips and was gone just as fast. A few months ago he would not have believed a single word coming out of her mouth. It all sounded a bit too much like the fictional horror stories that his father peddled in. Hell, he probably would have never even showed in the first place. But here he was and he was ready to listen, if nothing else. If he was lucky he might even receive answers. Maxwell closed his eyes for a moment and processed what he was hearing. “Natural huh? There's nothing natural about this,” he said from under his hood in a voice that sounded as though he was suddenly irritated. He tutted at his own words. He hadn't meant to sound angry but he was aware that that was how it had come across. He tried a different tact. “This is new to me, so from my point of view there is nothing natural about any of this.” He took another bite out of the bland but acceptable cupcake. Her words made a certain kind of sense, especially after what had happened. Perhaps that was the manifestation of the so called 'tether' that she spoke of. Since nobody else spoke up first he felt that he might as well.“The name's John Maxwell, though I guess many of you already know that. Rumours travel fast in this town. I'm the guy who stepped off a bridge,” he said simply. “Let's get one thing straight, I didn't try to kill myself. I don't remember exactly what happened but I get the feeling that someone told me to step off of that bridge and that I couldn't say no. But with that said I don’t remember hitting the water either. So who knows.” “Anyway I woke up...different. Since that day it feels as though a part of me is missing. That it was replaced somehow. With what I have no idea,” he knew how crazy he must of sounded but there was no point stopping now. “As for what that did to me, I don't suppose anyone actually saw me go near cupcake girl,” he said before eating the last bite. “Telekinesis or whatever you want to call it,” he said, not entirely convinced that that was what it was. He decided not to mention about the dying plants, not yet anyway. "Pleased to meet you all."

Jackson had given Kanoa a single, maddened smile before she placed the tag on, one of his eyes glowing silver as she'd feel a slight pressure against her throat and see a gnarled etherial limb grasping at her neck. But the second she placed the tag on, however, the glow disappeared, and with it the spectral arm, which was visible to all present due to their tethers. Jackson took a breath, coughing slightly as he did so due to irritation of his throat, but otherwise he was fine. "Th-thank you Kanoa, and I'm sorry for bothering you. That happens from time to time." Jackson then stood up, looking at those around him from under his hood with a cautious, and somewhat guilty, eye. He took another breath, this time to calm himself down before he spoke to everyone. "Uh,hello everyone, my name is Jackson Ducarthy and it's a pleasure to meet you I, uh, I hope we can all become fri- fri-," Jackson tried to say the word, but it wouldn't he just couldn't, especially right after he had an attack. Clearing his throat, Jackson tried again, "I hope we can all get along." He finished silently, walking over quickly to grab a cupcake before siting back in his seat, taking a moment to gather his thoughts for what he was going to say and do next. With another clearing of throat and steadying of nerves, Jackson spoke up again, explaining his. . . condition to the rest. "I'm a Natural as well, I guess, as I've been able to see and hear spirits all my life, though I did more hearing then seeing until recently. I also have an ability, though I've only acquired recently, and I despise it above all else. I obtained it after a. . . certain event happened that led to me being partially possessed by this spirit. This has given me a type of astral projection, an ability to project the spirit's soul to interact with the physical world, if you will allow me to demonstrate." Focusing, Jackson was surprised not to feel any pain and resistance as he called on Aphosis' soul, causing his eye to glow brightly, a trail of silver energy seeming bursting from it as he rose his hand towards one of the empty desks. From his hand came another gnarled limb, superimposed upon Jackson's arm for a second before shooting for the chair, gripping it by the back, and pulling it over to him. After he finished, he released his grip on Aphosis, and the energy and arm faded away. "I'm not sure how far I can take this ability, especially when the spirit resists. Something he does rather frequently. Also I warn you, be wary when I use this ability. It makes it easier for the spirit to wrest control of me, so please be careful. I don't wish to hurt anyone else with my blunders." With his piece said, Jackson went back to eating his cupcake, his normal eye being covered by the talisman Kanoa stuck in his head. What ever it was, it shut Aphosis up and he wasn't going to question it. And he sure as hell wasn't going to remove it, he didn't care how stupid it looked.

August, having been mostly ignored by the boy and Kanoa after the initial greeting and confirmation of the number, had occupied herself by staring at the flickering lights intently, biting her lip as she mentally planned out the electronics and how she could easily fix the flickering. Orion entered next, and Kanoa's usual placid expression was replaced for a moment before it came back up again. The boy lounged next to the red head, greeting her in his usual laid back demeanor. Her eyes whipped down to Orion, giving a quirked grin. "Not much Oreo. As she said, spooky scary skeletons and haunted houses abound. Still living in the North Pole?" Orion's calm demeanor rarely failed to get some girl giggling, though August just found it...sedate. It wasn't particularly appealing or off putting, but she would happily admit that Orion himself wasn't hard on the eyes. And didn't seemed annoyed by her seemingly boundless amount of energy. Or how frequently she blew things up. Or electrocuted herself. Or cut the power in the building. Really he just didn't seem to ever be bothered by...anything. Well, she wasn't about to be able to fix the lights in the middle of a meeting, so instead August decided to hop off her current desk, hop onto the desk behind Orion, and lean onto his shoulders, huffing in mild boredom. Whether he pushed her aside or not, she didn't really mind. ANYTHING was better than just sitting in silence staring at the lights. She could already hear her friends being annoyed. 'You laid on him!?' like he was something to be venerated. He was good looking, not made of gold. "No one's talking...m'bored." Another student entered. Best described as gray, August had never met her before. Her eyes seemed oddly large. She was pretty, like a porcelain doll. She placed cupcakes on the desk, though August didn't go for them. She instead waved at the girl with one hand, letting Kanoa talk and...engulf one of the baked treats. Sugar caused August to go haywire, she was already a bundle of energy as it was. They looked amazing though, the girl was clearly a skilled baker! The boy in the corner started talking to himself. She'd find it odd, but considering her current situation...that would probably be premature. Another visitor, looked like everyone decided all at once to show up, this one preceded by smoke. August didn't know her personally, but had seen her around. She looked about as interested in the world as a frog would be in algebra. A dead frog. With headphones on. She was cute though. In a...statue...sort of way. She gave another wave, green eyes flitting up to the flickering light again as the urge to tinker started rising. Something about a goat? "We'd need a tarp." She mumbled before, once again, another student walked in. This club seemed popular. Maxwell, August recognized him. Mostly because of the rumors running around him. Where Orion seemed laid back, Max just seemed...distant. Like his sense of apathy was just too much to care. Kanoa seemed...eager...to greet him. August quirked a brow and gave a small grin. Cute. As Kanoa started the meeting, August leaned back on the desk, still sitting cross legged on the top, as she listened. The first boy mentioned telekinesis. Manipulation of electrical fields? Magnetism? Ooky spooky spirit arm grabber thing? Hard to say. Her eyes moved now to the quiet boy who had decided to talk to himself and whom Kanoa decided a piece of paper would solve the problems. Homeopathy? Oh wait, occult. August needed to get out of her logical mindset for this crowd. Especially when Jackson grew a third arm and pulled a freaking chair across the room. This caused August to sit upright almost immediately, eyes wide. "Oh RADICAL! Oh crap, did I just use a seriously old term for that? Ugh, I gotta stop watching old movies while I work. Still, that was cool! Oh, I guess I'll go next? I'm August Battaglia, or Batty as Oreo here seems to prefer." August pat Ellis on the head before continuing. "Uhhh, if you all remember the power going out in the school about three days ago, that was me. And the power outage in the town about two weeks ago? Me also. I guess if we're being totally upfront and forward about all this, well, I died. For 4 seconds, I was legally dead, and I was resuscitated." It felt...weird talking about it out loud. Still, couldn't be worse than ghost arms, so in for a penny in for a pound. "Unlike having something useful like floating cupcakes towards me or pulling chairs out from under others, I...feel things. Things left behind by others, things that kinda fill an area. Emotions, feelings. Hard to explain, like...residual feelings and thhhhings. Look I don't fully understand it myself, but basically I can feel the emotions left behind in places or objects. I think. Sorta. Yeah. We'll go with that." Satisfied that she made perfect sense, August gave a wave and folded her hands in her lap, grinning wide at the assembled students. Nailed it!

Raven turned her attention to the hooded boy with interest in what he had to say but cocked her head to the side slightly as he stopped midsentence. Curled lashes blinked a few times as he proceeded to draw his body inward as if trying to disappear. Surely baked goods were not cause for alarm but perhaps he had a traumatizing accident in the kitchen with a high speed blender a year past? ‘How awful’ she thought before scanning over the scene a bit more. An overwhelming aura of suffering loomed and surrounded this ill-fated being, how could Raven just leave him to this wretched device? Even if she could not dissolve his troubles fully she could attempt it, at least though she wondered if he would even be willing to let her help. Before any attempt could be made another student arrived donning a pixie cut and cigarette in mouth pursed. An air of confidence followed this one yet arrogance could easily replace the previous word. The Lolita did not mind however, regardless of her own girly appearance Raven could adapt to anyone’s personality. There were few she clashed with especially since she came across as so submissively happy-go-lucky, an assumed people pleaser no doubt. “Actually dark chocolate and vanilla bean.” Raven corrected with a nod though her smile waned while glancing back to the anxious boy. Pixie’s smoke hovered in the dense air a surprisingly pleasant flowery bouquet and reminded her of the Lavender Honey cupcakes she had tried baking once before. Those were alright, a bit bland but organic none-the-less. Raven loved all things natural yet one would not be able to tell from her dolled up appearance. While reminiscing about goodies the door cracked ajar once again, and a male entered without speaking straight away. Instead of words a cupcake entered his mouth via flight and Raven could not help but grin with contentment as two were enjoying the treats currently. Mid-cupcake Kanoa decided to intervene with the hunched over male, and a startled Raven jumped ever so slightly as a piece of paper was smacked onto the possessed forehead. This seemed to do the trick as the hooded boy’s eye faded back to a normal hue instead of liquid silver. For now, there was no need to disrupt the seal as all seemed under control—presently. A few heated words were spoken by the pupil known as Maxwell who seemed unenthused with this whole ordeal. This did not stop him from introducing himself, along with a few others who demonstrated a small part of their abilities. Each holding unique capabilities, capabilities which could be twisted and used for immoral deeds. “Pleased to meet you too.” She politely responded after witnessing Maxwell’s object manipulation, which seemed handy though his bridge incident was fresh news to her. Next up was the one bedeviled who went by Jackson. His skills highly noticeable to a detectable degree; one would not openly display such possession lest he or she be sent straight to a psychiatric hospital or worse yet--church. Unlike Maxwell, Jackson seemed utterly plagued by his talent and it nearly crippled him. His stutters were evidence of deep torture, he second guessed himself often thus doubling his words. “The best of friends.” Raven chimed in after he was finished and continued on the cupcake, even though he was not able to say the word she could. Raven wore a sweet smile but held a mischievous glint in her eyes. A part of her loved all the anguish; this other half thrived on it like a poisonous oleander for milk. Being near these troubled Supernaturals was exhilarating. All this power and pain in arms reach was almost too good to be true-- yet the side not affected by the leeching spirit desired to help eradicate everyone’s woe. However, all the suffering in this room emitting from each body was almost suffocating Raven. She so wished to step outside to get some fresh air but refused the impulse. The majority of this agony was untouchable so there was little she could do to fix the situation. A sickness began to churn her stomach and she decided to lean her back against a wall, twisting a lock of shiny hair between a thumb and index finger, observing per usual on the next teen. Focusing on Red, easily excitable the one with the fiery hair as she exclaimed in glee at the group and what they could do. The red one shared her tether and how she did not fully comprehend her power just yet. It was refreshing to see how lively and carefree August felt about it. She was not completely torn up by this fact unlike so many of them, including Raven. Speaking of torn, Raven was not sure if she wanted to share a trick or even be in the spotlight. Like a doll placed delicately in an armoire, they were only looked at occasionally and then left alone. People confided in dolls not asked them their secrets. So, should she lie or trust them with vulnerability? Neither. “Hmmm.” A sing song hum came from the quaint black and white dressed female. “I cannot stop thinking about this proposition Kanoa. Do tell.” A curious stance was taken, placing a hand on her hip she waited eagerly to hear the premise.

By the time Cory had returned to school the halls were nearly barren, with only the janitorial crew, faculty staff, and a couple of stray students still lingering in the hallways. "12.. C" mumbled Cory to himself, looking at his scrap piece of notepaper as he wandered into a wing of school he hadn't been in since his first year, looking up again, he counted the doors to himself as he walked, a childish habit but a helpful one nonetheless. "3, 5, 7...8, 10.. Wait.." he'd stutter, turning on a heel and finding himself looking at the side of the corridor. After quick correction, he approaches the class, affirming it as the place to meet by listening to the sound of chatter within. Tentatively he hangs in the doorway, poking his head and torso into the class before moving into the wooden frame fully, "Uh, hi" he'd say curtly, raising a hand in a similarly short wave of address. "This is 12C, eh? The um, uh.. Meeting place, or something" he begins, quickly losing his train of thought. In an attempt to salvage his attempt at speech, he draws a crumpled letter from his back pocket, holding it up for all to see. He looks like he's going to continue his previous runaway sentence, but instead decides against it and waits for a response.

Maxwell watched the ethereal arm with morbid curiosity and was surprised at how little fear the sight of it elicited. It should have been more...unnerving. Perhaps this was also part of the tether that Kanoa mentioned before. He closed his eyes in thought and grimaced, shaking his head after a moment. No, that wasn't right, not exactly. The ability to perceive something alone should not automatically remove the fear that it elicits. Right? There was so much that he did not understand. Without turning toward her he locked his eyes on Kanoa and followed her for a moment. What was it she had called herself? A natural? She certainly seemed to be in the know at any rate. Was that because she was a natural or was it something else? How many naturals were there and why had he or anybody else for that matter ever heard of them. How was it that the supernatural remained exactly that, myth and superstition. Then again who would believe her or anyone else for that matter save for another natural. Or those who had been personally exposed and left tethered. The thought brought an unpleasant sensation of pressure to his chest so he discarded it for the moment.

Everett Oannes stood at the far end of the hall, just out of sight of those heading in and out of room 12C. This sort of stalker-like behavior was usually quite below him, but strange circumstances called for strange measures taken against them. He watched what sorts of people entered the room, trying to decipher a pattern. He knew these people, he knew just about everyone that attended this school. But what did they have in common? His brow furrowed, and he looked back to the creased note clenched tightly in his hand. Why had he received this? What did they know? At first he thought it best to ignore it. This note was probably some sort of prank, or it was meant for someone else. But it had been in his locker. Perhaps he was attaching unnecessary meaning to it, but the possibility of it being genuine burned in his mind like a hot coal. Why did they give this to him. What did they know? For the umpteenth time that day, Everett crushed the note in his hand, a snarl breaking across his face. A dangerous glint shone in his eye; normally he was far more amicable, but this note was akin to a threat, and he did not take kindly to threats. Eventually he grew tired of waiting and watching, and knew he had to take this matter into his own hands. With the strength of conviction, he marched to the door and swung it open quickly enough to give a startling bang against the wall. His face was cool, but his single yellow eye had the aura of an enraged predator. His gaze swept across the room callously, looking at the present company as though they were insects. He exhaled from his nose sharply, and tossed the ruined note onto the floor in front of him. "Which of you is responsible for this?" He said in a clear, cold tone.

Mary's eyes scanned the room through the haze of her own smoke. They found themselves coming to rest on Kanoa. Mary knew her as something of a savant. Or, at the very least, smarter than she-- she could recall sitting behind her in 9th grade, completely unashamed of her cheating. Kanoa didn't always have the right answers, but it worked. Thinking about it now, she was probably completely aware of what Mary had been doing. Inhaling more smoke, she reminded herself to one day thank Kanoa for that, she probably wouldn't have passed that class without her. Her brow almost furrowed in confusion at the "mff mph mff" that Kanoa had responded to her with, before she swallowed her cupcake and continued, "--you, Mary, thank you for coming. We won't be sacrificing any goats, not unless something comes up anyhow, you can never be too sure." Mary's neutral expression disappeared at that, becoming replaced by an impossibly wide smile, "Right!?" She exaggerated her movements, "You can never know how easily your problems might be solved by gratuitous amounts of ritual sacrificial violence to goats and goat-like creatures!" "We'd need a tarp." Mary's head turned to the voice. She was greeted with the sight of August Battaglia-- a girl whom she had only known in name, and only knew that name because of how very unique it was. She looked like the girl from Brave. "Only if you don't want to bathe in the blood of the beast!" She responded in an overly chipper tone, "Why you'd want to miss out on that I'd never know, it's like the best part!" Mary's expression returned a to a flat deadpan. Instead of selecting a seat, she opted to walk about the room, listening as Kanoa introduced herself and stated what she somehow knew to be obvious to everyone in the room-- Obvious to Mary, at the very least. People seemed to take turns after that, going, as if queued up, while Mary paced around the room smoking like a purple chimney. Maxwell seemed like fun. The boy named Jackson didn't have schizophrenia, as she had initially thought, no, he was just a mutant superhero or something. August's ability was apparently possessing feelings and not being a sociopath. And Raven, who Mary had only just noticed, was... How had she never seen her before? "Yeah..." Mary's tone was contemplative, she tore her eyes away from Raven, bringing them back to the Kanoa, "Honestly, I'm just wondering what it is this is all about as well." After a moment, a handsome head belonging to a confused man poked into the room, looking for a meeting place. Performing her civic duty, Mary walked over to the door and promptly blew smoke into the newcomer's face, "No. You have the wrong room. Go Away." Another moment passed, and Mary, still by the door, greeted a new visitor. This one seemed angry-- Mary was no expert empath, like August, apparently, but she was cognizant enough to recognize that slamming open doors and throwing down notes in a dramatic fashion signified anger. Or maybe an addiction to daytime television. Regardless, Mary went about solving the problem like she solved all problems. She blew smoke in the intruder's face and, letting the hand fall limply to the side, she met his gaze and whispered two of the most impacting words possible to answer his question; "Your mom."

Orion smiled placid, benign, at the presentation of cupcakes into his world. There were few moments that couldn't be improved with baked goods. One long, languid limb unfolded to swipe the dessert. Chewing on it thoughtfully, Ellis slanted his eyes back on August. Oreo? Black on the outside white on the inside. Alliterative to the first two digits of his name. Yeah, had heard that one before. Still, he'd been called worse. As she leaned into him, Ellis just smirked wryly, his eyes shut. Ah, the scintillating vagaries of youth. After that he didn't move much. Eyes shut, tight smile. He breathed slowly. His hair was tousled, He watched. He Listened. Anecdotes of the bizarre and the fantastical, demonstrations of ability and phenomenon beyond the ken of mankind, and of course, the posturing endemic to the young and the restless. Orion tapped his foot on the floor. He should have been excited. Here was a revelation to the unseen wonders of the world, the very sort of mysteries he had always fantasized about. Or maybe he should have been terrified of seeing his mundane schema shattered by this unreserved show and tell of supernal acumen. Instead, all Orion could think about was how his lungs felt like they were wildly different temperatures. It had happened as soon as Raven had entered the stage with her cupcakes. Or how Mary's introduction made the bite of cupcake he had been thoughtfully chewing suddenly taste of asparagus and asphalt. Maxwell had what Ellis could only describe as the odor of a sonic boom. The shadows on Cory's body were inhabited by non-euclidean geometry in an awful shade of orange. Everett was accompanied by the echoes of an orchestra being fed into a smelter. Ellis took a deep breath and sighed. He opened his eyes. He looked around the room at the rag-tag group of miscreants. As surprising in their variety as number. Freaks, geeks, lords, and leasers, all touched by strange and disparate powers. Ellis wondered where he fell in the mix. Kicking his feet off the desk he planted them wide and stood, sprouting like a long, lean birch. Surveying the assembled throng once more his gaze finally settled on the surly Mister Oannes. Ellis couldn't help but snort a little, amused. Who knew the supernatural world had such loose standards with who they invited in. Ellis turned rolled his head to look at the invitation thrown on the ground, then at Marigold, Ellis frowned only slightly. Someone knew. "Interesting bunch you got yourself here Madame President," he arched an eyebrow questioningly, "should we pack our wands and wizard hats for Hogwarts or is this more of a Winchester kind of deal?"

Jackson didn't say a word about August outburst after his demonstration, though anyone who paid attention would see that his fist were clenched togethernso tight, his knuckles were turning white and shaking. 'Cool, there's nothing cool about it.' Jackson knew his anger was irrational to some degree, as she had no way of knowing what it cost him to get these powers, what it cost him to use them. But he couldn't help the anger he felt bubbling inside as he looked around. He could tell that none of them took any of this seriously, except for maybe Maxwell amd Kanoa. Posdibly Raven, but that was it was hard to get a read on her. When she smiled at him, it seemed genuine, but he'd noticed the mischief in her eyes. He'd seen looks like that before, in his nightmares, only they bore a lot more insanity and bloodlust. Anyway, it seemed to him that most of those assembled didn't understand, or just didn't care about how dangerous the world of the supernaturalwas. He knew, all to well, that this world bore horrors worse than any nightmare. Jackson was jolted out of his thought, however, by the golden eyed boy with the eye patch that had barged in. He looked down on all of them, that was clear, and seemed to demand who had called this meeting. Mary, the one smoking the lavender scented cigarette, told him 'your mom' after blowing smoke in his face. Then another boy spoke up, asking Kanoa what this was all about. Jackson wished to listen as well, for he was rather curious, but whispers in the back of his head pointed his focus back to the arrogant o e with the eye patch. 'Who does that worm think he is, looking down on you like that?!? Calm on Jackson, why don't you tear out his eyes, or better yet, that prideful ti gue of his. Come on Jackson, you know you want to.' Jackson shook his head, dislodging the whispers from his mind, and went back to focusing on Kanoa. He should have known better thab to believe a piece of paper would hold Aphosia back for long. At least it had weakened his influence to only dim whispers. Jackson could handle and ignore those.

After requesting the others in the room to tell a little about themselves, Kanoa pulled out a small notebook and a blue colored pencil. John spoke first. From the tone of his voice she could tell that was irritated, though he quickly calmed himself down. He wasn't a Natural, in fact, he had been manipulated by a spirit of some kind and forced to attempt suicide. She jotted down a few more notes, she knew of a few entities that could have been responsible, but she couldn't be sure. He mentioned that he had an ability similar to telekinesis, that narrowed the list of suspects down a bit. Jackson spoke next. He was a Natural apparently, yet he had somehow been possessed by a spirit of some kind. He must have been a fluke within his family, it would explain his lack of knowledge. He showcased his 'ability,' it was more akin to a symptom, truthfully. August, who had been using Orion as furniture up until now, was shocked and fascinated by the display. Kanoa let out a stifled giggle, it was refreshing to see someone new to the supernatural world respond in such a way, most people tended to just freak out. The fiery haired girl then properly introduced herself. Kanoa already knew of her exploits as a rogue electrician, however, she did not know that the girl had experienced a close encounter with death. It had somehow left her with a hyper empathetic ability of some kind. She had never seen this kind of effect, but crossing over to the other side was always a chaotic venture. Kanoa's note taking stopped as Raven spoke to her directly, apparently she did not want to introduce herself, perhaps she should give everyone nametags. "Raven, I'll explain more in a moment." She sighed and put away her notepad, she didn't expect everyone to open up right now, but it was discouraging. Two more people walked in, both male. Before Kanoa could greet them Mary trotted over and... did what she could only assume was a 'Mary' like greeting. She didn't believe Cory deserved that, but Everett? How dare he treat her invitation in such a crude manner! Orion chimed in with a snarky comment, honestly making her question her entire plan. She wasn't sure this group of people could handle what was coming, but there was little other choice besides trying to do it alone. Kanoa loudly cleared her throat to get everyone's attention, and walked over to Mary and the two newcomers. "Mary, please." She said, gently taking the burning plant from her hands and putting it out against the wall. "I've called you all here for a reason, like I said." She turned to Cory and Everett, and quickly filled them in as to what they missed. "Some of you may have heard about this on the news, but a student from this school has gone missing. The police have no leads, and his parents know nothing. This may seem like nothing too abnormal, however, the boy vanished under very strange circumstances. His clothes were found in a tattered pile, and leaves were found at the scene of the vanishing, leaves from trees that are far in the forests. I believe a supernatural being may have taken him, and if it's true, then that means anyone in our town may be at risk. So what I'm asking is, who here will help me save our fellow student, and protect our home?"