The local news droned on the tv in the background, as Alice lounged on the couch reading 'Anna Karenina' in Russian. Since vampires could not sleep, one had to find new ways to occupy their time. For Alice it was reading, learning new languages, playing violin, composing music no one would ever hear, dabbling at painting, and lately she had taken to swimming laps in the lake. Boredom was a problem, but she liked her routine.

It was 6:00 am, and the news anchor man on the tv looked worn out in HD, as he babbled on about the local Mayoral elections, the closing of the factory in the town over, where to get flu shots, and that the local police caught the suspects who cherry-bombed all the mailboxes on Magnolia Street. The weather girl was looking way to chipper for six in the morning, as she explained today would be mild temperatures, 30% chance of rain, that autumn was in full swing, and she was looking forward to this weeks sun filled days.

It was September 4th, and only a week into the new semester at Gringore. Alice was teaching two classes in the late afternoon, but the rest of her day was basically free. She dogeared the page she was on and closed her book. She smelled like the lake, after swimming laps in it for three hours last night, she really needed a long shower. Getting off the couch she placed her book down on the coffee table, next to the stack of Latin papers she had graded earlier. She gathered the two empty wine glasses and a teacup, and put them in the sink in the kitchen. She sighed looking at the mess of dishes in her sink, and added the cups to the ever growing pile. She rarely ate anything at home but, tea, and wine glasses were in abundance around her home.

Her house was located on a quite street, full of retired people, and couples over 60. She had lived at, 382 Rosewood Ave, for eleven years now. The three bedroom, two bath, old yellow colonial was her haven from the chaos of Tellmore, and the unsuspecting Montaville. Her house was clean, but on the cluttered side, with books piled on tables and the floors, painted canvases leaning on walls, and potted plants galore. For lack of a better description it resembled a Anthropologie store, with extra eclectic clutter.

In the bathroom she turned the shower on. Undressing as she waited for the water to become hot. Looking in the mirror, a tall plain Jane was what Alice saw. She had always liked her dark brown eyes, and the shape for her lips, but she thought her chin was to big, and her nose was to thin. The mirror began to fog from the steam of the shower. Stepping into the shower she planned out her day, and went over her lecture for this afternoons classes.

45 Minutes later she stepped out of the shower, smelling of lavender soap, and shampoo. Wrapped in a soft ivory towel she walked into her closet. Alice's wardrobe consisted of clean florals, pastels, and high-end basics. Hanging in her closet were; knee length skirts, soft blouses, sheer button ups, satin camisoles, tailored slacks, simple dresses, vintage cardigans, lace lingerie, knit sweaters, and one pair of paint stained jeans. She changed into her outfit for the day. Dawning her beige slacks, powder blue blouse, butter yellow flats, and hand embroidered cardigan. She hung her wet towel on the door handle, and walked over to her vanity, putting on her pearl necklace, and spritzing on some vanilla lavender perfume. With a few bobby-pins she quickly pinned her hair up into a messy chignon.

It was almost 8:00 am bye the time she finished her cup of cinnamon tea. Alice packed up her old leather satchel with the graded papers, her cell, ipod, and wallet. It was chilly out this morning, and smelled like the beginnings of autumn, the trees had yet to change color. She grabbed her coat off the rack next to her doorway, and put on a hat. Riding her bike down main street, she made her way to Gringore.

Gringore is covered by a glamour, so humans only see the old abandoned state hospital. Only supernaturals see what is really there, a grand Victorian building, Gringore is the only official school where supernaturals come together to learn. In addition to the glamour to ward off humans, there is also a protection spell cast on Gringore that makes humans who wonder to close feel sick the closer the get the worse they feel.

The interior of Gringore is enormous, with several corridors and hallways adorned with stone arches, and column. Classically decorated, it is reminiscent of the art nouveau period. It does not look anything like a normal school, with its stained glass windows, hand carved mahogany doors, and grand crystal chandeliers. The dorms are located in the west wing, and are more modern in appearance, they are all two to a room. And resemble a studio apartment with a loft.

Alice walked into Gringore, and made her way to her office. It was located on the third floor, and was really small, but is had a balcony overlooking the courtyard. She was given the option of switching to a bigger one in the basement when she got promoted to head of the language department, but she like her tiny place. Taking off her coat, she hung it over the back of her chair, and then placed her hat on the desk. Her first class started at 4:00 pm, and it was only about 8:30 in the morning, so she need to kill time.

Walking down the stairs she made her way to the library. Gringore Library was huge, and had the second biggest incantus book collection in all of america. There was a section for everything, and it was easy to get lost. Alice made her way through the isles of books, stopping in the music history section. She scanned the titles, not really looking for anything in particular.

Clover is hunched over her grandmother's spell book when she finally realizes it is eight in the morning. She pushes unkempt ginger hair out of her face and rubs furiously at her eyes, as if to force the exhaustion from them. "Shit," the young witch curses softly, glancing again at the alarm clock. The time remains unchanged, glaring back at her in unsympathetic red numbers.

The young woman turns her gaze back to the bed, where quarter-sized wooden disks litter the small single mattress, the product of her all-nighter. Each disk is made of Rowan wood and has a different Icelandic rune burned into it, held together by a long string of twine. Clover worries at her bottom lip and shoots another glance at the clock. Her first class of the day, Herbology 101, starts at nine thirty. Could she finish this and still get a shower in before class?

Clover decides to give it a shot, mostly because she doesn’t think she can spend another night in this dorm without a protective charm on it. Gran’s house had so many enchantments reverberating within its walls that the grey eyed girl had become accustomed to the ever present buzz of her kin’s magic. This acclimation towards her family’s spells made it almost impossible to sleep in this place, surrounded by a plethora of unfamiliar spells.

The red head fishes around under her pillow until she finds her pocket knife. Flipping the blade out, she pricks her index finger, unflinching as the blade pierces the skin. Clover proceeds to press the wound to the back of the disks, smearing a small amount of blood over each one. Once this task is finished, the girl cradles the pendants in her hands, leaning over them and whispering, "Send back the harm that is put upon me. I do not harm others, so others cannot harm me. As I speak it, so shall it be."

As soon as the last word leaves her lips, Clover feels the energy surge out of her and the runes flash a vibrant green. The magic recoil is so strong and unexpected that it sends the witch tumbling off the bed with a pained, "Oof!" The willowy youth lays sprawled out on the floor, momentarily immobilized by her newly acquired headache and fatigue. She gently brings a shaking hand up to her nose, only to pull back and discover fresh blood. "Overdid it," she grumbles, closing her eyes and focusing on catching her breath.

But after a moment she feels it, the thrum of familiar magic coursing through the floorboards. Clover nearly sobs in relief, rolling over and pressing her lips to the ground. "Hello, darling," she breathes reverently, smoothing the pads of her fingers over the ancient wood. The magic hums back. Clover squeezes her eyes shut and laughs.

After she basks in the afterglow of a successful incantation, the freckled witch pulls herself up off of the floor and returns to the bed. She picks up the string of sigils and takes them to the door, where she hangs it over the top of the entryway. She admires her handy work, giving an appreciative nod. It was a good job for now, but she would have to go back and add her dorm-mate later, once she had been assigned one.

“Shower,” she tells herself, turning toward the bathroom to make herself presentable. If she hurried, she might have time to grab a redbull before class started.

---

Explosions hurt. Aedan thought as the ground sped under his soaring body. Of course his body was soaring in the same way a rock is lobbed from a catapult. Actually no, nothing like that. More like someone who is immune to fire gets launched away by the concussive blast of a petrol station. That was a little closer to accurate. At least this time he hadn't actually caused the explosion himself which made a pleasant change. Although that hardly mattered as he hit the ground rolling before getting unsteadily to his feet with a graze on his left cheek. Landing hurts more though. I'd forgotten about that. The smoking wreckage of the bus lay on it's side before him as alarm bells added to the cacophony of other sounds like burning and more burning.

Other than those sounds it was noticeably silent which made a lump rise in Aedan's throat. The driver of the bus had left, undoubtedly for the restroom, so he should be safe but the other passenger of the ride was still in there. Only the one though since there was really only one reason to take a bus all the way out here and most normal people didn't know about it. Without a second thought he ran towards the flames and began climbing into the bus. The metal should be searing his skin but simply didn't. His cloths also should have turned to ash already and although Aedan had never really been sure why they didn't although he put that down to some sort of otherworldly plot convenience.

Smoke was not something he was immune to unfortunately and he sincerely regretted not finding some sort of wet cloth to hold over his mouth. It didn't mean he could give up, just that he had to be quick. A man in punk styled clothing and make-up lay still near the back of the bus and Aedan rushed over, putting his fingers to the side of his neck before removing them and slinging one of the man's arms over his shoulder and heading back towards the entrance. "Man, you need to cut down on those piercings. Eating something other than bricks would be a good idea too." Aedan grunted under the weight. Another 'small' explosion rocked the vehicle over completely in a manner that ended up with him falling though a hole ripped in the side of the bus. Relieved to be out in the open, he dragged the punk a few more meters away before dropping him and taking a few grateful mouthfuls of air. A voice started yelling in the distance and Aedan smiled as he hurried away into the surrounding trees.

And that was why Aeden arrived at the gates of Gringore Academy covered in dirt and smelling strongly of smoke. Glancing at his wrist he reminded himself he didn't have a watch, nor had he ever had one so there was no real reason for him to check there. Nevertheless he did and he cursed his luck before grabbing the closest student and, after a brief interrogation, discovered that it was a bit after 8:00. "Hell I made good time." He muttered as he let the student go about their day as usual before Aedan's questions led to knowledge about what exactly he was meant to do next. Figuring the most direct course of action would be the wisest, he headed for the main building hoping that sooner or later someone would approach him, either to kick him out or to tell where he should go to start classes.

It was the middle of the night, and Thomas was lying down on the grass outside the academy. It was slightly damp, and was causing the jacket that he was wearing to get a bit wet, but he didn't mind. It was quiet, peaceful. All he could hear were animals moving about, and there weren't many of those. For a second, Thomas wished that he wasn't a vampire, just so that he could fall asleep here. But Thomas remembered all of the good times that he had had the the past two centuries. He never would have had any of it if he was human still.

After a while, Thomas got up, and walked over to the library, and climbed through the window. He liked climbing through windows. He didn't know why, he just did. He walked over to the modern languages fiction section. He perused the massive selection of books, before choosing a French book, Le Transperceneige. He went over to the music history section, where there was an area to sit down, and began reading the book. After reading for a couple of hours, he had finished most of the book. He got up, and saw that it was about eight in the morning according to his watch. Thomas places the book on top of the books in the music history section, and went out, to the front of the school.

As Thomas stepped out of the main building, he put up the hood of his leather jacket, because even though he had had his daylight charm for over a hundred and fifty years, he was still wary of the sunlight. Thomas walked into a collection of trees where it was darker, - he didn't have a class for another few hours, and liked the dark - but just as he sat down, he saw a new boy. He looked about 19, the age Thomas looked and told regular people he was, and friendly. Thomas walked over to him, so that he was behind him, and hadn't been seen. Not that he tried to, he was just used to making sure that people didn't know that he was there.

"Hey," Thomas said, "Are you new?" Thomas hoped that he didn't scare him, but knew he probably had. He always did.

Aedan was staring at a brick wall. A pretty brick wall mind, nearly everything here was pretty by his standards, but a brick wall nonetheless. So here I am. He thought to himself. Well obviously it was to himself. It wasn't like there was anyone else he could think to. Although... considering where he was that might not be true. Damn, focus Aedan now where were you? Oh yes. You were here. An institute specifically designed to teach you about all kinds of secrets kept hidden from normal humans for eons. Also, you're staring at a well. While you talk to yourself. Well think to yourself. Aedan, are you mental? Luckily Aedan didn't have to answer Aedan because a voice from behind him made him let out an incredibly dignified yelp as he leapt majestically away from the person who spoke. If you think that's how it looked you really are mental. He thought, once again, at himself.

"Um," was Aedan's stellar reply. In all fairness he was a little nervous and it was not impossible that he had received a teeny-weeny bit of a heart attack from the stranger that he was now facing. "Yes?" That was an answer even if it did have a question mark next to it. Probably the correct one or at least close enough that he could pass it off. "I mean yes. Yup. Absolutely. I'm new. No wait, I'm Aiden. Right that's right." Aiden's Irish accent slipped out as he bumbled around the conversation like a puppy in a water fountain. That's a cute image. He held out his right hand, the one wrapped in a once clean bandage, to the man before him. "Sorry. you caught me off guard a bit." A lot. "I didn't catch your name..." He left the sentence hanging and his out for a shake for a proper introduction.

"Well yeah. Like I said I'm new. Newer than a puppy in a fountain." Wait, that one was used already. Too late now. "One could perhaps say that I am lost. Not like completely, just to the point that I have no idea where to go. My invitation said to come here and that was it. No idea what to do next." Aedan glance hopefully at the stranger. Something was off about him and he couldn't quite place it. It was in his stance, the way he was carrying himself. This 'person was definitely not normal. Although nobody really was. "Maybe you could help me with one thing though, what kind of people come here?" He asked in an incredibly unsubtle way of trying to discern this young man's thingy. Whatever it was that meant people came here. Although you do give what you get Aidan offered a little of himself first. "Like, I can sort of screw with fire. A lot really. Can most people do that here?"

Remmington finally decided to embrace the day with something of a profound headache and no urge to face it, it was the way he started most days and it wasn't exactly a new feeling to him. Prone to trying to sleep in even though he couldn't sleep at all and ignore his daily traumas, he did realize that he'd have to rise sometime and with that in mind, the vampire finally rolled to his feet. His hair was a mess, blue strands crushed down onto one side and flicking up in ridiculous cowlicks. It was going to take about half a jar of hair gel and a lot of patience but it could be fixed. Little things like that mattered to him, bothered the hell out of him if he didn't take care of them. He'd always been into keeping himself well groomed and ever since the change, he'd been even more inclined to mock the gorgeous supernatural being thing. Especially at the school.

This place wasn't half bad, he hadn't disliked the school in even the slightest and the people were definitely interesting. There was something about being put in an educational system surrounded in what some people would consider abnormal, it was interesting. It inspired him. Inspiration was hard to come by, required a change of setting and a change of outlook. This place was full of it, he often found himself sketching it's occupants and doing all that he could not to leave the drawings on their doorsteps. Though often high-strung and a little edgy, he was confident about his art to a high amount. He was a good artist, he'd always been good and the talent was one that he liked to flaunt whenever the chance presented itself.

He was probably one of the best, or that's what he liked to pride himself on anyway. Shaking away from his wandering thoughts, he made his way to the bathroom and began the obviously important task of fixing his hair. He hadn't seen his roommate leave or even heard him but then again he'd been piled under the blankets so far that he probably wouldn't have heard Satan himself giving him a ring. Thomas was an alright guy from the bit that he knew about him, Remmington had been avoiding too much conversation with anyone. There was that nervousness, that edge of thinking he couldn't quite match them in conversation and it was definitely holding him back.

There was just a lot he couldn't talk about and that was how he liked to play it off, he was deep and mysterious or something like that. With one last swipe of the comb through his hair, he managed to get it standing back in a nice position again and he drew in a deep breath and glanced around. The room was still as empty as before, drawing out something of an overly dramatic sigh. The boy grabbed his sketch pad and tucked it beneath his arm. He could blow time if he sat around drawing the locals long enough and maybe attempt the daunting task of trying to talk to one of them if they should get too close. He never knew how to explain why he was drawing people, he'd had more than enough brush ins with confused or flattered individuals and every time he had stumbled around for an excuse and came up dry. He just liked to draw people as they appeared, if he knew them then it ruined the mystery, inclined him to alter colors to fit them more personally. Strangers were a lot more fun to draw, sharper and trapped in whatever moment he chose to draw them in.

It left him with a lot of pictures of people that he'd never officially met, people from busses and parks and sidewalks and alleyways. It gave him leave to make his own stories for them, it calmed him because they could be anyone that way and they couldn't take up more space then they needed to. Strolling into the hallway, his mind was set on the charcoal pencil and the paper tucked under one arm. His steps were light and even as he made his way into the library and to an empty table, he could see his roommate and a boy he hasn't seen before, and if he looked hard enough he could just see a girl looking at the books. He put the sketchbook down, leafed through it until he finally found a blank page and went to work at sketching a vague outline, not entirely sure of who was his muse at the moment.

Thomas saw that the new boy had offered his hand to him and shook it, seeing how strongly he shook. "I'm Thomas," he told him, "I'm from England, and I guess you're from Ireland?" Thomas chuckled to himself. "I loved Ireland, I really did. Must've spent a good ten, fifteen years there. I should go back, see how much it's changed." Thomas looked back up at the new boy, "Sorry, I got distracted."

When the new boy asked him what was at the academy, Thomas looked at him with surprise, "You really don't know?" he asked with disbelief, "Well, I might as well tell you." Thomas placed a hand on the new boy's shoulder, and turned him round. He pointed at a girl with blonde hair, "She's a fairly normal person like you, she can manipulate water." Then, he pointed to a boy who was running frantically to his next class, "He's a shifter. he can turn into a wolf." Thomas's mouth got closer to the new boys neck as he spoke, and he pointed to a set of triplets, "You see them? They're demis. Their mum's Hera." Thomas's mouth was now so close to the new boy's neck that he could almost bite it if he wanted. "And then you get people like me," he told the new boy, "I'm a vampire."

Clover manages to get through her shower without passing out, but only barely. As she starts to dry her hair, the freckled witch glances at the mirror and takes note of the purple colored bags that have formed under her eyes. ‘I look like a zombie,’ she thinks, chuckling deliriously. She clicks the hair dryer off and pulls on her clothes for the day, an over-sized blue sweater and black skinny jeans. Clover tries her best to apply her makeup so it doesn’t look like she is an extra on ,’The Walking Dead,’ but is only mildly successful. Giving up, she grabs her book bag and starts her journey towards the cafeteria, where the energy drinks await her.

As she leaves the dorm building and crosses the main courtyard, Clover stops when she two boys standing exceedingly close together. Normally, Clover didn’t bat an eye at two lovers being affectionate with one another in public, but this scene was a little different. The more muscular of the pair was leaning in close, his lips hovering over the other youth’s neck, the early morning sunlight reflecting off of his fangs. ‘Jesus,’ Clover breathes, turning a bit pink. ‘Jesus Christ, he’s gonna bite him right here in front of God and everybody.’

Was it normal for vampires to feed in front of people? Clover had never met one before, so she couldn’t be sure. The redhead looks away from the strangers and hurries toward the cafeteria, mortified to have almost intruded on such an intimate moment.

---

As Thomas pointed out the various students Aedan was son enraptured with wonder and stuff that he didn't notice the mouth slowly edging closer to his neck. Granted even if he had noticed it his first thought probably wouldn't have been along the lines of what was actually going on. In this freaky alternate universe where Aedan has the observation skills of something greater than a dying sloth he would have probably assumed it was a sort of come on. A come on that was more than a little creepy but a come on nevertheless and probably would have reacted far more mildly than he actually did in the non-parallel universe where he does indeed posses awareness as keen as a banana.

The words vampire sure did the trick though. Even a banana might notice someone about to suck all it's fruity goodness out of it and so did Aedan. Flailing wildly like there was a spider crawling up his arm he yelled as he turned and sprinted. That was dumb. Aedan thought as he stared at the ceiling, his memories slowly piecing together the events of the last few milliseconds. Being near death though heightened his deductive abilities to the point he rivaled even the great Sherlock Holmes' dying sloth.

The first clue was the agonizing amount of pain spreading over his face. The second clue was a small smear of dried blood on the wall, the pretty wall, that he had been gazing at earlier. The final piece of the puzzle were the looks. The looks and the giggles. "Oh god," He moaned getting to his feet very, very slowly. It took a few moments but finally he rounded on the vampire with a triumphant grin. And just because he had tears of pain in his eyes didn't make it any less triumphant and anybody who says otherwise is totally correct but will never ever be acknowledged by Aedan's extraordinary being. Or beings (plural) if that thinking to himself resulted in more than idle chatter.

"I have bested you creature of the night!" He yelled as he swooned unsteadily. "For you see, how can you drink my blood," pause for affect. Or was it effect? "When it is all over there!" He stepped aside, nearly falling over again, to reveal the to or three specks of red on the wall from his bleeding lip. This was probably where a laugh resounding with confidence would have been put to much use. Unfortunately the laugh was nervous and weak. I think you should re-think your strategy. He though at himself. I think you should re-think shutting up. He replied to himself. Wait, are there three of us now? That thought surprised him. Nah, four. He hit that wall harder than he thinks. We do need to deal with this vampire problem though. All thoughts agreed on that one.

Aedan was many things, most of them unimpressive, but he was also a student of this academy whose name he couldn't quite remember mainly because in an alternate universe some nerd writing a final post before falling asleep couldn't be arsed to scroll up and check although said nerd was just going to blame it having Aedan run into a wall. Convenience thy name is Yahtzee. Back to the point, Aedan's declining mental state. No wait that wasn't it. Oh yes it was the vampire that could potentially leave him a dried out, bloodless husk. Aedan was accepted for a reason and that reason was simply that he was not a complete and total pushover. Just most of one. So he did what any non-pushover would do. He prepared to attack.

A steely demeanor settled over Aedan from nowhere. "Thomas right?" His voice was still a little shaky but unafraid this time. "I hear vampires aren't overly fond of heat." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his silver lighter, flipping the lid to expose the flint wheel which he pressed his thumb to. "Now I may be wrong but I kinda get the feeling that neither of us would do well to find out." Aedan held out the lighter at arms length ready to spark the wick and launch a jet of flame at the first person to actually speak to him in an embarrassingly long time. "So how about you reveal this as a joke of some sort, I look like a twat, which I am very good at by the way, and then we go back to the way things were. A perfectly happy morning between to strangers with a friendship blossoming between them that will forever be remembered as something that could stand the tests of time?" Aedan licked his lips and tasted his own blood on them. Still an idiot. He thought. "Let' be chums then eh?" He asked lowering but not closing his lighter.

Marceline had been up since around four in the morning. She was always awake before dawn, for her daily jog around campus, down main street, through the park and back. A total of three miles, every morning. Rather then going back to her dorm room she headed straight for the gym to do some yoga, and then she hit the showers. The gym showers beat the dorm shower, as they always had hot water, and much less chatty girls in it.

Fresh and clean she got her change of clothes out of her gym locker. A black crop top, high waist jeans, maroon converse, and her olive green jacket made up her outfit of the day. Black eye liner, some mascara, and gold necklaces finished off her look. She never did anything with her hair, she just let air dry into a tangled wavy mess. It was around 8 when she finished getting dressed, and doing her makeup. Appraising herself in the mirror, she loved how she looked under a glamour, with pretty blonde hair and an overall normal human appearance. But she was not a big fan of her true appearance, sparkly gold skin, metallic hair, and the birdlike eyes of a Weevil Fae. She normally kept her glamour up in public, and around Gringore. But if any Supernatural person concentrated hard enough on her face, they could see past the glamour.

In a school of around 500 students everyone eventually knew eachother. There were only 12 other Weevil students including herself, and most other supernaturals races didn't look so different from humans. Some odd eye colors, a pair of wings, or pointy ears was a normal thing to see around Gringore, Weevils on the other hand not so much. Being a semi-rare fae was annoying. But Glamour up and looking good, Marceline yawned and left the gym.

The Cafeteria was her next destination. Gringore's food was good, and hardly cost a thing. Which was a good thing, as the only thing in her dorm room mini-fridge was leftover Chinese noodles, an expired cherry yogurt, a melon powerade, and her roommates crap. her new roommate, Ariel, was kind of odd, very quite, and seemed to keep to herself, which was fine with Marceline. Ariel was way better then her roommate last year, a hyper fairy, with ocd was no fun at all. Walking through the cafeteria door, she saw a handful of people she knew, but the place was mostly full of new people, that though registering for morning class was a good idea, and looked like they were regretting it. There was never any lines for food this early in the morning. Grabbing a tray, she ordered a ham, mushroom, swiss, spinach, and sweet pepper omelet. She wondered around the display of chips, and fridges full of drink choices, while she waited for the chef, Bruce, to cook it up for her. She grabbed a strawberry milk, and a packet of ketchup.

Once she payed for her omelet, and drink, she walked over to the table near the big windows, and sat down. People watching as she ate. She noticed a guy walking in, and was so sure she had met him before. 'How do I know that pretty boy...?'She thought to herself, she never forgot a face or a name, so being stump right now was frustrating. And that when it dawned on her, she remembered seeing him in the picture her roommate Ariel had on her desk. It was her twin brother. 'What did she say his name was? James, Johnny, Jack?' She wondered to herself. He was attractive, and striking up a conversation seemed like something to do.

A low grumble escaped from the mouth of the sleeping dragon, his human shape sprawled out across the to small bed. His feet hung off the end, his right hand dangling off of the side. He wasn't too accustomed to the bed, his hiding having not been full of the things that normal generally enjoyed. Like beds. He still accepted it, crashing out like a light as soon as he decides to go to sleep. He never noticed his roommates movements at night, even with the knowledge that his roommate didn't sleep at night.

Another groan escaped him and he kicked the sheets off of his body, a large yawn causing his mouth to open. He ran a hand through his short hair, pushing his body into a sitting position. A quick glance at the clock confirmed his suspicions. He woke up late. Guess there was no working out today for him. He got up, brushing his teeth quickly then getting dressed into a form fitting black t-shirt and cargo shorts, with a pair of plain sneakers. Satisfied with his appearance, he exited his room, glad to have made the choice of showering the night before.

Once he reached the outside, he blinked against the light shining in his eyes, looking around. In time to head the shouting of a boy, yelling at another, who if he remembered correctly is a vampire. He heaved a sigh, walking over, sticking his hands inside his pockets. He wanted to know what on earth was going on here.

He so then expressed his thoughts, his deep voice rumbling out," What on earth is going on here?" His multiple colored eyes looked back and forth between the two, dragging his hands out now to fold them across his chest, arching a single eyebrow

Staring. Staring was something that Remmington was amazingly good at and with the scene that the other boy seemed to have stirred up, he couldn't quite help himself. Honestly, with his mother warning him so much about how rude it was to stare, you think he would have learned something. He hadn't been paying enough attention to know that Thomas had been doing anything but he supposed that whatever it was had to have been pretty terrible with the way the Irish boy had reacted. He didn't see the tell tale markings of a bite on his throat, didn't smell any blood except the blood clinging to his lowerlip. That personally made him a little hungry but he didn't think it was a good time to dwell on it.

Passing his gaze to the other vampire, he felt his eyebrows raise as he inspected his face for any traces of malice but gave up out of disinterest. If his roommate wanted to feed on random humans then he guessed that was just his own right. Far be it from him to stop anyone from following their dreams though he couldn't understand why he had to follow his dreams in the middle of the library. He made a mental note to ask him about it if this situation developed any further but instead focused his attention on the boy with the Irish accent. He'd never really seen him before but then again, Remmington barely paid much attention to his fellow school mates.

It followed that habit of constantly keeping his head down unless approached and without approach, he was virtually the most silent person on earth. Though being the most silent person on earth had some benefits, he noticed everything. Even a certain girl peering in at the scene unfolding before him and that peaked his fleeting interest long enough that he got to his feet and collected his sketchbook. He tucked it, pencil and all back under his arm and watched as the odd-eyed young man entered. Slipping past the dragon in something of a smooth side stepping motion, he headed into the hallway, trying to focus his mind on walking instead of the fact that he hadn't drawn a good lot of anything.

That was the only bothersome thing about the situation was the fact that he hadn't drawn anything. He supposed that with more of a collective amount of students in the cafeteria that he might stand a better chance. Walking there settled his mind but being there hit him with the smell of food, when he'd been human he'd loved to eat, just ate all the time as if he was starving but now the smell made him vaguely nauseous and he had to reign in the face he kept trying to make as he chose a table. There weren't many people sitting there and heck if he knew any of them, scooting to the end of the table and slapping the sketchbook back down with a dramatic flourish, he ran his gaze over the students curiously.

When the new boy had lowered his lighter, Thomas chuckled, "Don't worry, it was just a joke," he told him, "I'm not hungry, and the school ash a rule about killing other students." Thomas sniffed at something in the air, "And your blood type's O. Quite boring, like most Irish people. I'd choose someone else if I had the choice." Thomas grinned, and put his hand out for the new boy to shake, "I never did get your name, by the way. I'd love to be your friend, you'll need one if you wanna survive in this place, and I need one to fill my lonely existence."

Thomas turned his head to where he could hear someone talking. He saw that it was Triton, a dragon. He had his arms crossed like he was a king looking down on them. Thomas hated that he was an inch taller, he was one of the people at the school that he couldn't look down on. That didn't stop him from attempting to intimidating him, though. Thomas walked over to him, so that the was a few inches away from him, and looked at him in the eyes. "What does it matter to you?" he asked, "You're standing there, with your arms crossed, acting all high and mighty." Thomas didn't like Triton, he didn't know why, but Triton just seemed that he was arrogant. He wanted so badly to be able to suck the blood out of him, but he knew that dragon blood was poisonous. He didn't know what its effects were on vampires, but he didn't want to find out. "Do you think that you're more powerful than us, just because you've killed someone? Well, I've killed someone, too. In fact, I've killed more than one person, I've killed hundreds, no, thousands of people. And another one wouldn't make much difference to me."

The relief was able to be palped, one could say palpable, the second Thomas had began to make a sound that was on the same spectrum as the 'not-about-to-suck-Aedan's-blood' sound. That makes no sense. Aedan thought but he was glad that he could return his lighter to his pocket and take the vampire's hand with his own and eagerly shake it once again. "Bloody hell, you can smell blood types. That's creepy." Aedan remarked. Is that even our blood type? Oh great the thoughts were thinking of themselves as a collective now. I have absolutely no idea. He realized. Who even knows their own blood type? People with a vampire friend I guess. "I'm Aedan." Aedan (well obviously it was Aedan) said. "Pleased to help fill your lonely existence." He meant that last part as a joke but saying it aloud made him realized that Thomas probably really did have a somewhat lonely existence. If any of the vampire lore he had never really payed attention to had been correct then Thomas probably was far older than he actually looked. Far older than just about any friend he could have would live. Well that sucks.

As someone spoke, Aedan followed Thomas' gaze to a man standing not far from them looking at the two of them with an expression one, if said 'one' was Aedan, would describe as exasperated mixed with annoyance. "Um, We were just uh..." Luckily the vampire he was now officially friends with stepped in and saved him the ordeal of speaking. His relief was very, very, like, so very, short lived when Thomas began to get confrontational with the large man. "Uh," Aedan tried to get a word in edge-ways but anything he had planned to say died in his throat when the words turned to killing.

It should probably be known that Aedan was a bit of a wuss. Killing was not something he relished the thought of, although looking at his hands they were not exactly clean of metaphorical blood. "Guys," he suddenly interrupted with wide eyes. "This school, this if full of bloody psychopaths." He looked at Thomas expectantly. "I mean, I've only been here five minutes but everyone I know has clearly not exactly lived a morally pristine life." Cogs were turning in his head. "This school must be set up for us to all kill each other in a grand battle royale!" He announced. Well nobody ever said that the cogs were of the clever variety. "No wait that makes no sense." He said aloud. "Okay but if it is, just on the offchance, I say we team up! Thomas and me and I guess we need muscle." He looked at the man that Thomas clearly didn't like. "I'm Aedan," he said introductorialy. That's not a word. He thought to himself Just shake his hand and shut up. He stuck out his bandaged hand. "Chances would be better if we teamed up. We might have to defeat some kind of governing body if we want to get out alive though. So what can you do for the good fight?" So there was a chance, a small chance, that all Aedan really wanted was an excuse to find out more about the people around him and that everything else he was going on about was just a smoke screen. Of course that would require brains of some sort.

After purchasing six Redbulls and an apple, Clover scanned the room to try and find a place to sit. It was just now nine 'o clock, so she had some time to kill. The young witch heard a slight clamor to her left and turned just in time to see a blue haired student plop his sketch book down at an unoccupied table.

Clover crosses the room and sits down opposite the stranger, flashing him a smile as she shoves four of the energy drinks into her book bag for later. "Hello, darling," the ginger says as she pops the tab on the first beverage. "I love your hair," she continues, trying to catch his gaze. "Do you do it yourself?"

She stops here to down the first can in one go. 'Oh sweet Jesus, that's good,' she thinks, closing her eyes and sighing as she waits for the caffeine to take affect. "I'm Clover, I just finished my first semester here," she stops and takes a bite of her apple here. "I'm a witch," she offers, because she isn't sure if the other could tell or not. Did people usually say their species when introducing themselves? Clover had no idea. "What's your name?"

---
@corrosive

Alice had been watching the mess of a conversation...or altercation since the kid named Aedan hit the wall. It was a miracle the librarians had not swooped in to lecture the students causing a ruckus. Roberta was working today, and the old bat was strict when it came to the 'quite and courteous' policy that is a library. Alice put the 'Clara Schumann' biography back on the shelf, and walked over to the three men. She had made it a point to know the vampires of Gringore, and Thomas was no exception. She had introduced herself to him at the beginning of the school year, and from what she read in his student file, he was in his 200s, and originated from England. Older then her by at least 110 years, she wondered if he was acquainted with any vamps of the British Stuart clan.

"I would advise you boys to take it outside. Cause killing anyone on school grounds is an automatic expulsion. So fighting should be done somewhere else." Alice said calmly. Even though she looked like a 20 something year old student, most people eventually knew she was a professor here. Making her voice sound authoritative was not her thing. She had been told multiple times that she sounded more like a gentle honey. "And Aeden, you should head to the infirmary. As you have learned there are vampires here, and some are...not very in control." She said kindly to him. By the smell of his blood, he was all human, so most likely an ESPer.

She smiled at them and went on her way, towards the other side of the library.

Watching the girl curiously for a long moment, he decided she was safe. He hadn't a huge penchant for company but she seemed chill and that was enough for him. He took a long moment to respond, leafing through his sketchbook until he found an empty page and plopping the pencil against it lightly, he eyed her for a long drawn moment. She was pretty and he liked her hair, there was something about red hair that he'd always liked. It reminded him a little of his father with his strawberry blond curls. He almost told her as such but then realized that he still hadn't drawn anything, he paused, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Deciding that it would be both flattering and an extreme outlet to his pent up creativity, he started to draw her profile though it mostly resembled a bunch of loose lines and a circle at the moment. It was getting there, definitely. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he began to speak, his voice had a rough manner to it and it was almost alien to hear with no direct accent, it was held up by string seemingly.

"Remmington Pennyweather O'Neil." he seemed to release the full name in one sigh, ever the dramatic artist but the name was funny. He'd been given the moniker of the family and sometimes he forgot just how funny it actually was. What caught him instead was her blunt honesty and he looked up from the paper again. Cracking the slightest of a grin at her, he offered his hand to shake. "Your inherently unfriendly neighborhood vampire. Who would also like to thank you for the compliment, my hair is an ongoing art project. I like yours too, very pretty and kind'a reminds me of liquid copper, y'ever see those How It's Made things? Kind'a like that. Copper presses, for like, coins."

Clearing his throat, he began to realize yet again that he really didn't have a way with words and started to mold the circle shape into a facial shape. "I haven't been here very long, people here seem cool." An inadvertent dodgy compliment, that was cool and edgy of him. He really needed to shut his mouth before he started telling her about how he used to want a cat but now he was afraid he'd eat it in a fit of bloodlust. "Clover is a nice name, I've always liked that name."

"Wake up my little angel..." The recording of his mothers voice rang out into that dark and otherwise quiet room. This had been his morning every morning for the past five years, a curse he had created for himself. Despite how much it hurt to hear her voice so rich and filled with joy and love for a son who needed very much to get out of bed.

Gabriel rubbed his eyes softly, mornings were always hardest for him, he lived alone and waking up wasn't something any dragon was fond of, but nevertheless he was awakened by his mothers sweet voice coming through the speaker on his digital alarm clock.

Once his feet hit the floor however he was in a much faster pace, he shot around the loft apartment above the pawn shop, it made life easy to live right above the store. He rushed into the bathroom and brushed his teeth while showering, once finished he dried off and took human form. He gave himself a strong look in the mirror, "I will find them...I swear mom..."

Gabriel tore away from the mirror and threw on his denim jeans with his Metallica T-shirt and black leather jacket and rider sunglasses, he slicked his hair back and grabbed his keys off the counter before tearing down the stairs through the store and out the door locking the door behind him.

With the weather looking okay Gabriel opted to ride his Panhead to school today, he walked over and hopped on the bike allowing himself a moment to look at his house...his store...the life he had created for himself from nothing and a faint smile crossed his lips before he started up the engine and took of towards school.

Once he arrived he parked the bike and started into the school, he be lined it for breakfast, sure people knew of him but no one really knew him, Gabriel was a lonely soul...it was rare that people noticed him, he was good at avoiding problems...except for when he was around Triton...no normal Dragon would like Gabriel that's just the way it was.

He grabbed a tray full of food and a bunch of strawberry milks and made his way to an empty table near all the mother tables, it was his weird way of reaching out to people, if they made conversation from their tables he would laugh and talk as if he were chipper and happy...as if he were okay. But still he was better off by himself...people had a habit of dying around him.