[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLmFhODNlMi5RbkoxYm1ocGJHUmwuMA,,/vtks-rascunho-errado.regular.png[/img][/center] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/xyxWeNk.png[/img][/center] [hr] [center][h3][i]Day 2, After Lunch[/i][/h3][/center] [hr] [color=yellow]"It involved Brunhilde here and took place around...erm..."[/color] Brunhilde had forgotten the Hall Monitor's transgression already, and was considerably more cheerful than she had been just a minute before, though she felt a strange sense of irritation tugging at the back of her emotions. Something must've recently pissed her off. Saqui's comment snapped her out of her thoughts and brought her to reality, and she quickly checked her notebook. Nothing in the main notebook. She checked the non-native pages that were folded up in the notebook - a couple of dossier reports and a diary entry, which ended at 1:08 PM, leaving a huge time gap. It mentioned that she had finished making backups and was on the way back to class. [color=8493ca]"Roughly 1:10 PM, in the frontal courtyard, under a tree. Air class with Professor Avarius."[/color] If the boy's face was already white with fear, then what it changed to next was well beyond white. He drew the connection between the report the President and Arthur had been complaining about and the 4'10" girl in front of him, and he immediately got the feeling that had she not wanted him for something, he'd have been thrown out not just any window, but the highest up window she could have found. This girl was completely crazy, as far as he was concerned. [color=gray]"Y-yesterday? I-I can tell you..."[/color] [color=8493ca]"Please do. It's important,"[/color] Brunhilde said with a smile. The Hall Monitor couldn't tell what was going on in her head -- only that it wasn't natural for someone to change their visage so quickly. He wanted to be gone as fast as possible. [color=gray]"U-uh... Y-yesterday... Air class... The President was t-talking about it when I went to the meeting room. A teacher attacked someone and broke a book, and... uh... y-you attacked him, I guess. The Pres s-said something about you burning down a tree or s-s-something and passing out."[/color] Brunhilde's pen was flailing about as it marked down the boy's words. The words 'broke a book' sent a chill down her spine. It explained why she was writing in this dinky piece of junk with someone else's handwriting in it, and it explained why she had a huge time gap. It also explained where the past seven years had disappeared to. She sincerely hoped the damage wasn't too bad. Anxiety took her, and she suddenly blurted out mid-writing, [color=8493ca]"The book. What happened to the book? Forget everything else. That book is the only important thing."[/color] [color=gray]"Th-th-the book? I think your classmate with the pink hair took it."[/color] Pink hair, classmate. Brunhilde instinctively checked the notebook. Nothing was there. She checked the loose pages and found what she needed to know - details about the pink-haired girl, Emi. Apparently they were good friends already. She let out a sigh of relief - if it hadn't been someone she trusted enough to print a page in color for, she'd have had no idea what to do. [color=8493ca]"Thank you. I think that's all I need to know. You may leave."[/color] [hr] [center][h3][i]Day 2, Late Afternoon[/i][/h3][/center] [hr] Brunhilde had returned to the dormitories, where she asked the Resident Assistant if Emi Akemi was in at the moment. The RA didn't know, but handed Brunhilde a copy of the dorm assignment directory, which clearly stated what Brunhilde needed to know, as well as the name of her own roommate, whom she assumed she had yet to meet, on account of having not seen her name in the notebook. She wandered down the hallway, following the sign plaques on the walls and shielding her eyes from the flickering and dirty fluorescent tube lights. She couldn't understand how anybody could deal with cheap industrial lighting like that in a housing area - particularly in a dormitory with vinyl tile floors and bluish off-white painted cinderblock walls. Perhaps the dormitory rooms themselves were nicer. She certainly hoped so. She cautiously knocked on the door of Room 106, notebook in hand. She felt a bit nervous about meeting a friend for the first time for the second time. [@liferusher] [@Jedly] [hr] [center][h3][i]A Week of Lessons[/i][/h3][/center] [hr] The substitute teacher's lessons didn't stick with her very well, or so she thought. She couldn't remember anything that had happened even five minutes ago, much less during the week, and she had requested that the professor simply give lecture notes rather than her taking her own in the middle of experimentation, on account of her diary having been wrecked by the previous professor. He happily complied, and in fact had been about to suggest it himself when she had brought it up. His kindness did not mean the lessons were easy, of course. He covered pushing, pulling, vacuum manipulation, air compression, temperature manipulation, precision hovering, precision flight, close-in strikes, distant strikes, blunt force, sharp edges... Everything was done at least once during the first couple of days to see whether or not they were capable of it. And for the entire week, neither Brunhilde nor Saqui were permitted to touch the ground - especially not during lessons. "Your opponent won't care if you're trying to focus. If you touch the ground in a fight, you're toast. Or jelly. Depends on their element, really. Speaking of toast and jelly, it's lunch time. We're skipping it this period - I brought lunch myself so you could stay in class longer today. Anyway, if your feet touch the ground..." The old man had waved his hand, and Brunhilde and Saqui felt an intense feeling of pressure beneath their feet. "...my winds will [i]remove[/i] you from the ground." Later in the day, after the main class was over, he forced his students into sparring matches, as well as contests of willpower against his own power. Every single time they tried to gain control over the air he was manipulating, they failed miserably. But they were getting better at it, and he felt that in maybe a month, the two of them could, if they worked together, give him a run for his money. Saqui seemed to be better at avoiding getting hit, whereas Brunhilde seemed to be magnetically attracted to fists, feet, and weapons - almost as if she were daring them to hurt her. It was a little bit concerning, and he tried to change up the lessons to put the two girls on a more even footing - forcing Saqui to fight, and Brunhilde to avoid being hit. Brunhilde loved the lessons, of course. She couldn't remember any of his abuses and she most certainly couldn't remember being disciplined for any reason (which did happen a number of times), so she always came to class with a smile on her face and an eagerness for learning that the professor wished more students would exhibit. The sole homework assignment - a pair of glass bubbles connected by a tube, in which one bubble slightly glowed - was completed three times on separate occasions by Brunhilde, who had forgotten that she had already turned in her results (on account of her leaving the diary in his care during the lessons). The homework was simple in concept, but took several days for most students to complete, as it required moving the radioactive gases out of the bubble with the phosphor coating without being able to feel or see them. Saqui also completed her assignment, no doubt because she was repeatedly reminded to do it by Brunhilde. After a week of classes, Brunhilde and Saqui were told to report to Headmaster Kano's class for cross-elemental sparring. The old substitute felt that it would be good for them to get their asses kicked properly and fairly, either by fellow students or by a teacher with a far heavier hand than his own. [hr] [center][h3][i]Week Two, Day of the C.E.T., Afternoon.[/i][/h3][/center] [hr] Brunhilde approached the pond on the edge of the school grounds as the instructions her substitute teacher had given her stated. Saqui had gotten there first, so clearly this was the right place. Brunhilde was still not touching the ground. If anything, over the past week she had picked up a few inches in her constant hover. She had stopped 'skating' as well, opting instead for moving herself around with light gusts of air and gently pulling vacuum. The skating motion was still useful, of course, when she needed to move very quickly. The Headmaster was the sort of person she would have assumed to be a full-on witch had she not been from a place that would've called her one herself. She was rather curious as to what sort of person he was, if he was indeed a person. The lack of a visible face was somewhat disconcerting, and it hid his humanity (or lack thereof) quite well. This was the first time she had had cause to see him in person, and she quickly sketched him out in her diary before taking her place at a spot that seemed out-of-the-way enough for his students.