[hr][h1][i][color=Steelblue]Rowan Campbell[/color][/i][/h1][sub][@Chicogal][/sub][hr] 

These past few months had felt like some kind of dream, drifting from one point to another - and the boat trip was no exception. Rowan had spent most of the voyage in his cabin trying to figure out what kind of time this ‘academy’ held for him. All it did was give him another headache and prompt him to pop in a small dosage of painkillers he’d kept hidden in the lining of his dufflebag.

When he’d first stepped outside, the academy struck him as some kind of ancient fortress - dark, cold and foreboding - though the second of those three was probably due to the fact it was always cold up here, apparently - not helped by the fact that he’d never set foot out of Cali’ until now. For that, he was glad Mom had sent him the jacket when she heard where he was headed - his ass didn’t need to freeze any more than it already had. Before long, he was led down alongside all the other students to the auditorium to hear the Head Mistress’ speech.

Oh man, he could tell that the old man’s blood would be boiling if he saw him now - listening to one of ‘those’ types (and he wasn’t just referring to her academic position) laying down the law - but that just amused him even more. The content of the speech seemed to be the usual spiel, mind; “Welcome, my name is Jeff, you’ll be doing this soon, don’t steal or break stuff, etcetera and etcetera” - he’d all heard it before, though the one thing that [i]did[/i] catch his attention for a moment was that note on illegal substances. Well, painkillers weren’t [i]technically[/i] illegal, were they? At least, he needed them for a reason - not like the old man’s constant dosages of booze and amphetamines or whatever other shit he figured he could spike himself with. 

‘Miss Taylor’ seemed decent enough for now - the type who’d probably seen a lot of shitty kids and was used to dragging them back to level one when things hit the fan - and at any rate he had no plans of making trouble for her or anyone else in this school - he was just going to see where this took him. Who knows, maybe he’d get along here after all?

First chance he got, he quickly dug into the cafeteria food like a starved dog - he’d not eaten much on account of not wanting to risk the seasickness - and the first thing he noticed (aside from the good food) was how clean everything was, to a level that seemed to beat the canteens he’d seen at the social services residencies that the feds had set up for kids like him. Yeah, things didn’t seem that bad after all. Of course, that thought was quickly changed not even a half-hour later, when he lined up with the others to figure out their living arrangements, only to learn who his roommates would be.

Something he’d pushed to the back of his mind sprung forward at the mention of the word - ‘roommates’. With an ‘s’. So there’d be two other people he’d have to share a living space with? The idea of sharing with one was enough of a challenge, never mind two - but he decided to shut it down for now and see what these two would be like. Copen and Victor were the names of his soon-to-be roommates, the first of which sounded like the preppy type that loved places like this whilst the other didn’t particularly strike any kind of chord with him beyond sharing a name with one of the old mans’ ‘brothers in iron’ who lacked volume control.

After about ten-fifteen minutes of aimlessly wandering through the domestic wing, searching for the right area, Rowan finally hauled his dufflebag to his dorm and after locating the correct room, he firmly twisted the handle and stepped inside. Inside were three metal-framed beds with their own respective setups for the students that would be occupying them - one had already been claimed judging by the lithe blonde flopped against the mattress with a suitcase next to him. 

With an arched eyebrow and a quick survey of the room, he offered his new roommate a simple “Hey, there” as he dropped his own dufflebag besides one of the unclaimed beds, besides a window.