Dawn had become accustomed to the various thumps and grumbles of the car by this point, but still couldn’t subdue the little start that went through her at this latest one. She wasn’t the only one, thankfully- around her, the cries and curses of her fellow students sounded out, followed by a low chuckling from the driver. “Sorry about that, folks,” he said cheerfully, “Didn’t expect the bump to be that big.” From somewhere behind Dawn, she could hear a boy protest that that was what he had claimed the last time, which only prompted another chuckle. “Sorry, sorry. Just a few more minutes ‘til we’re there, though, so y’all just hold tight.”

If the movie she had put on (Watchmen, something Dawn had watched a few times in the past) was any indication, they had been in the truck for about two hours now, give or take. Before that were several bus trips that had taken about five more hours altogether, and a plane trip from Italy that had taken a day. Of course, there had been little breaks between them here and there, but it was still longer than Dawn had ever travelled before in her life. Doing her best not to disturb the computer settled in her lap, she stretched her legs out a bit in front of her, rolling the joints in their sockets in an effort to get rid of the stiffness that had settled in them. She hoped that there would be a chance for her to walk around a bit before orientation started- it would be nice to get her blood flowing again.

Luckily enough, a few minutes after the film drew to a close, and Dawn had begun to flip through her library for something else, the truck stopped- with a loud groan and a fair amount of tremors, befitting the driver’s earlier track record. Once again, several other kids shouted obscenities in response, but several had had the good sense to hang onto the seat in front of them this time so they weren’t flung face-forward again. Shaking off the impact, Dawn shut the laptop’s monitor, slid it back into its case, and rose to her feet as soon as the driver announced they had reached their destination.

Dawn wasn’t surprised when the truck sped off as soon as all of their luggage was unloaded, a bright “Welcome to Marchand!” shouted into the air as the vehicle rounded out of view. Oddly enough, she had started to like the man. Shaking her head, Dawn gathered up her suitcases, and turned to face the school- her school, now. Instead of immediately powering through the gates, however, she found herself gazing up at the building with a sort of awe.

It was...large, to say the least. It swallowed up most of the yard surrounding it, then reached to the sky when that wasn’t enough to satisfy its appetite. The building was mostly made up of some kind of cobblestone, the only other color being a smattering of green that came from the ivy creeping up its walls. A sizable oak tree stood in front of it, a fair distance away from the windows, and in front of the school itself was a pathway lined with some kind of flower bush. By all means, these were telltale signs that the place was far older than just a few measly years, but Dawn didn’t bat an eye at the apparent inconsistency. The chances of a Terramancers being excluded from the building team were very, very slim, after all.

Dawn’s first thought was that it was charming.

Her second thought was to wonder how she would manage to navigate the place.

Steeling herself, Dawn pulled her luggage along the stone, up the stairs, and into the maw of the school. Much to her surprise, the lobby appeared quite...empty, save for herself and a few of the other students that had come with her on the truck. She supposed that she shouldn’t be too surprised- after all, her ride had been one of the earlier ones- but it was still somewhat shocking given the size of the place. Taking as much of the view in as possible, she followed the rest of the students to the office to sign herself in.

The woman behind the counter said little as Dawn scribbled her name into the roster- only that she needed to report to the common room at once before handing her a few papers. Dawn began to flip through them after leaving the office, and escaping the bored stare of the receptionist. Inside the stack was a map of the school, a schedule, and a list of rules. The map was tucked under her arm for the moment, while the other two sheets were promptly folded up and slipped into her coat sleeve. She could look at them more thoroughly once she got herself properly seated.

Dawn took her time traversing the hall, taking in the sights and enjoying the quiet of the halls. For all of the driver’s road rage, he certainly got them there on time- if not earlier, if the lack of other students was any indication. Glancing about the place, she mounted the stairs, and entered the common room.

The common room was...an interesting place, to say the least. While the wallpaper was a deep, pleasant green, the floor rich cherrywood, the furniture was a bit less easy on the eyes. It clashed horribly in style and quality, a scramble of assorted items that had been haphazardly fitted around the place. Decorated animal skulls glared across the room at the newest television to hit the market, and leather chairs surrounded a tapestry of bears fighting...some sort of sky wolf. Mahogany desks, hand-sewn carpets, vending machines…and hanging above it all, a cheerful banner reading “WELCOME, STUDENTS”.

A plaque against the wall offered some measure of explanation.

“We here at Marchand give our sincere thanks
For the generous funding and donations
Provided by the families listed below.”

Blinking owlishly at the odd decor, Dawn stepped inside, gaze roaming and coming to a rest on the buffet tucked against the far wall. Closer inspection of the table revealed an assortment of foods- pancakes, meats, fresh fruit- along with a small sign encouraging students to help themselves. Breakfast, although it was late enough in the day for the meal to be more brunch than anything. Either way, the travel had admittedly made Dawn quite hungry, and she wouldn’t be turning down free food. She swiftly piled her plate and retreated to one of the tables, tucking her belongings under her seat as she did so. As Dawn ate, she took out her papers, studying them between mouthfuls.

Given the current vacancy of the place, she had plenty of time to get herself oriented with Marchand.

The pancakes were very well made.

Duma was awoken by a rather large jump in the bus followed by subtle rowdiness from the kids behind him and a quick apology from the driver. He dismissed it and dosed off again only to wake back up, what felt like moments, afterward to a harsh halt and kids all in a rush to the door, He was in one of the first rows so he stepped up before the rest of the kids could keep him locked in his seat, stepping down through the narrow bus door he turned to the pile of luggage that was being unloaded, picking out his olive green cylinder sack and facing the school. Met with a daunting structure, he took a half step back, then continued confidently through the gates and into the atrium of the estate.

The entry was large, Quite large, Duma was a big guy and he felt abnormally small. Off down one of the hallways he saw a line of kids out in the hall all waiting for something in the room the line led into, he assumed he was to follow suite so he did, stepping in line and studying faces of all the other kids some older most younger and hardly any bigger than he was.

Duma was just about to the door when his eyes were caught and held helplessly by a gorgeous little (literally) girl that walked out just as he faced the doorway to get in. He followed her slim figure all the way down the hallway until he could no longer see her, turning back to face the line he was suddenly impatient to be attended to. Only 5-6 more kids stepped up to the desk then it was his turn. He signed himself in, taking the papers she handed him and only hesitating for a moment to ask, "The common room is that way is it not?" Pointing in the direction the girl had disappeared. The attendant simply shook her head and turned to the next kid who needed help.

He skipped out the door way, looking like a buffoon to the other kids he was sure, which made him slow to a fast walk as he searched for the door the pretty girl had gone in. Once he found it, it sure was the door she had entered. "COMMON ROOM" stated the little metal wall tag next to the door. He smiled big, then took a breath and hid it as he attempted to play it cool, about to make his first friend. He swung open the door and was greeted by an ugly room and of course the girl he was looking for, not to mention the buffet, which demanded his attention due to the fact he was starving. Duma made a stop by the buffet to fill a plate, never taking an eye off the girl as she ate, he finished up and headed over to take the seat next to her thinking about what to say, almost completely ignoring everyone else in the room.

As he approached, *Clears throat* "Excuse me miss? Is this seat taken? Im Dumaka, Call me Duma if you'd like~"

@EchoicChamber

'So it begins.'

Professor Oren Kovalenko, an angular figure with dark hair and a long blue coat, watched the numerous new students filing in, passing through the front office and signing off on forms with a sceptical eye. Well, one eye was on the throngs of their new intake, the other was on her phone where she was busy informing any staff members that were not already aware that the first large bus had pulled up and the place was beginning to fill up.

And she didn't expect a group of young mages to maintain any standard of behaviour for very long.

Especially not ones that were more often than not rich, privileged, sheltered, and had never been taught how to properly behave.

Speaking of that-

Norwegian shouting from the entranceway. Oh christ.
From where she was standing Oren could make out three figures at least a head taller than most of the people filtering around them. A woman in he late thirties with long, grey-flecked ginger hair and a crimson coat on, and a hulking man with a beard you could lose a family pet in, both hugging and saying their goodbyes to a third figure. Younger, but still with nearly a foot of height on the Professor, with a mop of red-orange hair and a voice with a strong nordic accent that was carrying over near enough everyone else's together.

Norrevinters.
No mistaking those.

With one deft movement Miss Kovalenko stepped back into the shadow of one of the hall's pillars, and melted into the darkness without a word.

Somebody else could handle Ren's spawn and the ginger storm. She'd see to making sure no-one had started killing each other in the common room.

As it was some students had started eating, or introducing themselves. Oren materialized out from behind the door, quite alarming several students who'd been milling round up there, and proceeded to check over the status of things.

Over to one side, on an otherwise yet unoccupied table, a small figure was slumped over the the surface, next to what was now the degenerated milky sludge of a bowl of cereal left uneaten beyond its time, and something that long ago ceased to be a hot drink.

Her long, rather untidy-looking red hair was spread across the table like seaweed, and she was wearing a blue sweater lined with knitted purple cat faces, the phrase 'Have a Mice Day' inset into the back and front. It was at least two sizes too big and luridly coloured enough that the student was clashing with the furnishings.

Professor K came to a halt behind the student, regarding the girl with her look of pitiless reptilian distaste before finally speaking up.

"Are we boring you already, Kingsley?"

The redhead awoke with a start, knocking her bowl astray with one hand and splattering the fortified mud across the surface.

The Professor remained perfectly stationary whilst one of her charges scrambled, blinking, to try and both stem the flow of milk from the upturned bowl, and address her at the same time.

"Oh..no! No Professor! I was just um...is it breakfast time?"
Apparently only just realising how many others had entered the room, the student known as 'Kingsley' gave a rather sheepish smile.

Kovalenko's expression however was her usual weary mask of disapproval.
"Well Kingsley that is what everyone else is doing, if you would like to try and catch up with the timetable, I think it would probably be beneficial for you. And please try and avoid wasting food in the future."

"Y-yes Professor..." the girl hastily responded, pale cheek reddening a little as the watched the aquamancer turn and walk off down the row.
"...so that's the year off to a good start..."

Aaron's trip to Marchand was pretty annoying. The ride was full of bumps, and he couldn't get any electronics he brought with him to access the internet. Granted, there probably weren't any wi-fi towers nearby to connect with, at least not during the trip. So, he was stuck messing with the more basic games he had on his phone. Who could forget "Ball" or "Stack"? It seemed every time he was about to beat his old records, the bus shook and destroyed his chances. Shortly before they arrived, his phone died, so he was stuck glancing around the bus, taking in the other people on the bus.

There was a very small girl with a laptop. He doubted she'd let him use it, which sucked obviously. He pulled out the pink thumb drive he'd lovingly been calling "The Master Drive". He gave the laptop another brief examination. He couldn't find any ports on the side he was staring at, so they were probably on the other side. He begrudgingly placed the thumb drive back into his pocket.
Immediately after moving his vision from the laptop, Aaron caught sight of a giant of a man. He didn't have any hair though. Poor sod, already losing his hair at such a young age. He chuckled to himself, and briefly messed with his orange hair, curling it even further.

When the bus finally came to rest, a rush of people rose to be the first people off the bus. Aaron took his place in the line, and emerged from the bus that had carried him there. Aaron prayed to whatever powers were out there that the school had internet, however upon looking at the exterior of the building, he was distracted. It was made of a cobblestone that he found very appealing to the eyes. It was probably made by some fancy terramancer.

He kept the giant man in his line of sight and followed him into a room where the various people on the bus were signing their names. He quickly jotted down his name and was handed a few papers, which he carried in his arms. by the time he was finished, he had lost the man he was following. He hesitated for a while, before he noticed the group was all heading in one direction. shuffling the papers around, he found the map and confirmed that it was indeed where he had to go.

Aaron jauntily made his way through the common room, thankful that the school was full of all sort of amenities. He noted a plaque in the common room. It read:

“We here at Marchand give our sincere thanks
For the generous funding and donations
Provided by the families listed below.”

Aaron's eyes scanned the list, and three people down was the word "Heruscir" He didn't know what he expected, but it made him feel slightly less nervous of his new surroundings.

That's when he smelled the pancakes. God he was so hungry. He was so anxious the night before, the boy hadn't eaten anything. He rushed right into where they were serving food and began ferociously consuming the food. It tasted nice, and he slowed his pace. Aaron sat down and settled into the room he would probably be seeing a lot more of. He looked at his schedule to see what classes he would have.

Herman's face smashed against the cheap leather of the bus seat in front of him when the bus hit a large bump. After his body jolted back from the impact and he had enough time to lament the new purple bruise that contrasted his mocha skin, he settled into the seat again... alone as before. Next to him was the green backpack with an assortment of stickers of favorite basketball stars, cartoons, and novel titles. He didn't make much noise, not that it would matter if he did; his voice was so shaky and soft no one would hear him anyway. As the bus came to a stop, he wrestled his tie back into place--if there is one thing he did take pride in, it was his presentation. A mesh black suitcoat decorated his thin frame and made him look sleeker than normal. When the bus halted, he freed himself from the cold leather seat and swung the dual-strap backpack over his shoulders.

He dragged a suitcase beside him that had some strange elvish looking language scrawled in its oak. He let it scrape along the concrete, a dense rustling screech of wood grated against the thick concrete. The sound didn't bother him, though it may annoy others, he thought. His moment of altruism passed, before him reigned a massive ornate entrance, decorated like one of those old Victorian mansions from an Austen novel. He reveled in it for a moment. Once more his astonishment gave way to indifference, and he proceeded to pull the suitcase behind him until he reached the massive doors. He reached for the large door handle which seemed twice his size--there was no way he was opening this door by himself.

"Hey, can someone help me out?!" Herman huffed, using all the strength in his one minuscule arm, but to no avail. And on top of that, he smelt pancakes. He was starving! Death his over-dramatic thought began, is sweet.

Table tops layered with trays of the most delicious food and drinks lined the walls of Common Room, delicacies capable of making one's mouth water: a whole roast deer with sprigs of rosemary threaded through its antlers and stuffed with bacon and rye bread, marinated Glenloth chicken, grilled trout with lemon, smoked sausages and a pineapple glazed ham, mounds of fragrant wild rice, potatoes and diced pumpkin smeared with butter and spices baked on hot stones, countless cheeses that went with baskets of crackers and bread rolls shaped as seashells, and all sorts of varieties of salads and side dishes. Huge platters of fowl stuffed with savoury fruit and nuts. Ocean creatures drizzled in sauces or begging to be dipped in spicy concoctions. Countless vegetables, sweets, waterfalls of juice, and streams of milk that called to early morning onlookers.

To Marcus, it was all a fairy tale, a wonder so beyond comprehension that left him awestruck. Before he knew it, he had dug into the rich food with ravenous hunger, indulging himself to the point of busting, eating more than he'd thought possible. He shoved toast, eggs, pancakes, sausage, bacon, and fried potatoes into his gaping mouth, cramming it in thick and fast, consuming a meal that had taken hours to prepare and cook in a matter of minutes like some kind of vacuum cleaner. Then, showing no signs of embarrassment he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his red windbreaker and belched - much to the dismay of those seated nearby.

Reveling in the afterglows of his morning feast, Marcus slumped comfortably in his plush armchair. Back home, food in such abundance wasn't a commodity, but a jewel to be horded and enjoyed. As was such, anytime an occasion presented him with food such as today, he wasted no time horking down as much as he could from morning till evening. A bad habit no less, but he just couldn't help himself, that coupled with the distraction it provided him on such a day as today, made for a perfect scapegoat to vent on.

After arriving on one of the first trucks to reach Marchand, Marcus wasted no time examining architecture and exploring the grounds, acts as he was known for back home. It was as if the aroma of free food bogged down the Nigerian's free spirit, and like a net, dragged him into it's alluring embrace of deliciousness.

Marcus was addicted. He knew it. And he didn't care.

Rather that frock on his own nature, Marcus opted to change the subject and actually pay attention to the newcomers. Not to far away, a rather petite girl he was sure he shared the same truck with elegantly nibbled on a stack of pancakes.

A woman should eat like she means it! Not like a mouse. Marcus mused. Culture back home and culture around the world differed quite a lot. It was off putting yet intriguing.

Next his eyes landed on a rather large boy who's head seemed devoid of hair, yet body made up for in pure muscle mass. His eyes seemed locked onto the petite girl's form for a time before he made his move towards her location.

Rather fast for a guy of his size. Marcus observed.

Finally he noticed a red-headed young man of rather average build veer off from the course the brawny one took. Instead he savored the food on his after first attempting to scarf it down.

Smart man. A leader by example.

Marcus proceeded to grab himself another plate.

The one downside to forging her way into the academy was the fact that Britney didn't have access to fancy means of transportation. Instead, a bus. Not just any bus. An uncomfortable vehicle that everyone was stuffed into. It was almost like Britney was a commoner. A bus was the best they could accomplish for such an esteemed school (Well, that was subjective)? Not a plane? Or a magic portal? Bah! Britney was going to make the best of this, though.

She went through all the trouble of coming here, so she damn well was going to see what the school had to offer. Though, she had to scope out the "competition," so to speak. There were so many families from all over the magical world... that the Williams family disconnected themselves from. If she told them about her family, they probably would raise an eyebrow, and ask "Who?" That was just a simple fact she was going to change.

On the other hand... she had no idea who the hell they were, either.

The bus came to a stop, and everyone quickly got out. Understandable, Britney wanted off the magic schoolbus more than anybody. She grabbed her luggage bag, and the bus made sure to leave fast as possible. Britney rolled her eyes up into her head, as she just kept moving. She had much work to get done. Too much work. She ignored everyone as she got a move on... she needed to eat.

But, as she was walking in, she saw a very sad sight. A boy that couldn't carry his own luggage! It was amusing, but she had to resist the urge to point and laugh. Maybe she should help this boy... he might not be that easy on the eyes, but he might have information on the other families. If he doesn't, then she'd drop him like a fly.

"Here, sweetie, let me help you with that," Britney said as she walked over, and grabbed the bag - Jesus, it was heavy. She wondered why he brought so much garbage to the school in the first place, but she wasn't going to question his logic. Britney merely just helped him pull it inside. She felt like they were probably missing a speech or something, but all she could smell was food. Not even an orientation speech? What shame. She was too busy straining her back.

"So, yeah, my name's Britney," She said, looking back behind herself, "What's yours?"

Despite being neither taller nor older nor otherwise more remarkable than any other parent or faculty member, Professor Maeve Brigid Byrne had a way of moving that compelled other people to get out of the way. Not so much out of respect, in all honesty, but rather the feeling that she was likely to shove anyone who did not.

She prowled through the crowd of registrants with a stiff back a deep frown, her emerald eyes taking on a predatory narrowness as she surveyed the incoming students. Her glare roved over bags and bodies alike, though exactly what she was on the lookout for was not immediately clear. A few individuals warranted a second glance, but nobody stuck out enough to deserve being properly tailed.

For the sake of meeting parents, the other staff members had talked her into tying her unruly red hair back and wearing a pantsuit that did little to flatter her broad shoulders: The intended “look” of the outfit was unclear, however, as Byrne resembled a pissed-off orange alley cat far more than she did a qualified teaching professional.

Standing in the midst of the bustling crowd, she found herself quite confused as to how she had been persuaded into the role of a professor: She did not like people, least of all teenagers, and least of the least, teens of the entitled variety.

And speaking of the devils.

The sound of thundering Norrevinters filled the hall, and Byrne’s frown lines somehow managed to trough even deeper into her face. She turned on the balls of her feet to head out and let someone else take care of that godforsaken situation, and had very nearly made it out of the room when she caught sight of something far worse out of the corner of her eye:

It was striding through the front door in a pair of Italian leather shoes that likely cost more than her car, wearing a smile so self-assured she wanted to smack it clean off of his face.

A Sterling.

Larke, presumably, if her roster was correct.

The boy was dressed in a pair of pressed khaki trousers and a pale blue button-down shirt that was rolled just below his elbows. His jaw and face were cut as dashingly as any in his lineage, and the signature charm of his pedigree shone through as he managed to persuade the receptionist to crack her first smile all day. He smirked and said something. She laughed. He took the papers with an easy shrug of one shoulder, waved a lazy salute with the hand still holding his forms, and turned back to mingle with the rest of the crowd.

He held a black sport coat folded over one arm, but carried no bags with him. Those were handled, apparently, by the stout, black-haired man following behind him in a chauffeur’s uniform. Larke passed off the forms to the man with a firm handshake and another convincingly genuine smile, and then the two were up the stairs toward the common room, and the dorms beyond.

Byrne shook her head. Lazy brat.

Her bitter glowering was cut short, however, as she caught sight of the collision preparing to take place in the reception area: If the Norrevinters stayed their course, they would be seeing far more of Sterling than was good for the building’s structural integrity.

It was with a quiet groan that Maeve forced her best public relations smile (though it didn’t really manage to touch her eyes,) and strode over to the ginger clan with purpose. She circled around so that she stood in the opposite direction of Sterling, and stopped about a foot out from the three giants.

“Hilda? Hilda Norrevinter?” Maeve exclaimed, her jovial tone touched by just enough of an Irish accent to color her inflection, “By God, it’s been an age and a day! And is this the Kora we’ve all heard so much about?” She extended a hand to the teen girl, being sure to keep the sound of internal screaming out of her throat. “Grown a helluva lot since the last picture I saw, hasn’t she?”

@VitoftheVoid

---

Larke, for his part, had simply decided to make the most of the whole atrocious situation. As he came up the stairs, he split from Ives, his driver, and took toward the common area while his help handled the task of depositing his bag. The room number was probably on the paper, anyhow.

His sharp green eyes roved over the scene with casual interest, not betraying any of the general disappointment he was holding in his chest. He did not need to look at the wall placard to know that the name Sterling would feature at the top: The fine leather couches and brushed-nickel lighting fixtures were all in excellent taste, as was the blown glass chandelier up above.

The bearskin rug and antlered armchairs were less so. In fact, were there less food in the room, Larke was certain they would still smell of the Norrevinter tribe.

But it was no matter. Larke was here, at the god-forsaken boot camp, and he would be here until his father so changed his mind.

That is to say, Larke Sterling would be in school here for a while.

He glanced about again, this time at people, and shot a smile toward a familiar face. "Mr. Heruscir! he said with a grin and a short wave of his hand, and strode over toward the boy. It was common practice for Larke to be dragged along to Council gatherings, and even more common for his father to hand him itemized lists of people he may meet in such places. Everyone likes the the sound of their own name, his father said, and everyone wants to buy from someone who says things they like.

He extended a hand in greeting to the young man, his posture relaxed and his free hand in his pocket. "It is Aaron Heruscir, or am I mistaking you for someone? I think I remember meeting you at the Yuletide ball a few years back. You were the guy with the great jokes." Not Larke's speed of joke, of course, but everyone loved to be flattered. He leaned up against an end table and cast a glance toward the growing crowd before turning back to his company. "Name's Larke, by the way. Sterling. Pleasure to re-make your acquaintance."
@AluminumDude

The buzzing of his mobile phone registered dimly on his senses.
He reached over to pick it up, knocking over several things in the process. He read the message before glancing at the time.
Oh, shit...really?
He had overslept, on the all important first day of the school year. He scrambled off the couch he had crashed on the night before and haphazardly scraped together his papers that had consumed what was supposed to be his eight hours of beauty sleep. He sprayed on some deodorant and splashed some water on his face. No time to shave, so he'd just have to try and rock the rugged look. No doubt the bags under his eyes would betray the illusion.
He pulled on his coat and ran his hands through his hair, forming it into something approaching neat and tidy.
Way to make a good impression Ray...par for the course, old buddy!

He took a dignified power walk to the common room where all the new students would be congregating. He felt a pang of anxiety as the noise of milling students got louder. He didn't know how to deal with kids, nor even if he would be a decent teacher. How would the kids (or worse, their blue blooded parents) feel about a murderer teaching their children, he often fretted.
Sure, some of the faculty here had fought in the war and had certainly killed many cultists, but war was war. The cult declared it and the Council answered. What Ray had done...it just didn't bear repeating, he told himself.
One day it would stick.

He shouldered his way into the crowded common room, the noise of youth pounding his weary ear drums like a sledgehammer. Thankfully it was broken by the smell of the platter against the far wall. Above all was the smell of fresh ground coffee. He made for it like a buzzard on a fresh corpse. He poured himself a cup and took a long, deep mouthful of it, savoring the heat, the smell and the taste before refilling and hastily grabbing a croissant.
He turned around as he unceremoniously demolished the flaky pastry. He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. He almost preferred the trenches. At least there everyone was the same size. There was no class or aristocracy, just the kinship of men and women who knew they could die at any moment.
Here Ray felt hopelessly alone. He was poor trash in comparison. The divide between him and the rich benefactors of the Marchand (and their equally smarmy offspring) was as apparent as if one were to stand on the edge of the grand canyon.
He guessed that in the end it really didn't matter. He straightened his posture and put on a stern outward gaze.

He looked around to try and find some familiar faces in the crowd. He of course spotted the last two people he was looking for, or at least the ones he was convinced liked him the least. He had been unable to get a read on either Oren Kovalenko or Maeve Brigid Byrne. They were both as stern and rigid as ancient pillars, but the way they interacted with one another was like idioglossia. He knew they fought in the war together and were close, but they were decorated special ops veterans. Ray had just been another grunt grateful to come out alive with a second chance. One would think that would at least afford him some warmth from them, but they were as cold to him as they were to just about anyone else. He generally tried not to think about it. For all he knew he had just gotten the wrong impression. As it was, he didn't know anybody terribly well yet; it just felt as though he wouldn't get to know either of them very easily.
He shouldered his way gingerly through the throng of new students, greeting casually those who introduced themselves to him.
He sat down on the chairs that he been set aside for the members of faculty and began to organize his papers. His curriculum, personal notes and schedules.
He glanced up every now and then for any other members of staff who might arrive. He didn't know the other staff members terribly well, due to their limited amount of time to interact and even then it was all business. He'd only managed something not unlike casual conversation with Jamie Lebeau. He had come across as a genuine and decent guy.

He managed to briefly meet the gaze of Professor Kovalenko. He nodded tersely at her and offered up a look as a sort of apology for his tardiness. He secretly hoped she wouldn't approach, as he was sure a scolding would follow. He was happy to trade barbs one on one in private, but in this kind of setting he'd just have to sit down and take the lashing.
This setting was entirely alien to him, at least from the perspective of a teacher. As a child, there had been nothing like this for him, not that he had known of anyway. He was put in a regular old public school, and had to keep his magic on the down-low.
He took a deep, sighing breath.
Better than having my eternal soul ripped from my body, I guess...

Woah, was she cute. Herman's unnaturally wide, nigh-oval shaped eyes grew larger beneath his equally oval shaped reading glasses. He pushed the bridge of his spectacles further up his bony nose before he stammered out a reply,

"Oh, uh... yeah. I'm--" a cough cut the middle of his poor attempt at a sentence, was it a faux or was it real? he stuttered on, "--Herman, uh... yeah, Tiller's the game, Herman's the--no, that's now how it goes!" He pitched a tight chortle that encapsulated his building anxiety, beads of sweat dripped down his neck. If there was any face left to save, he had to try...and so he forcefully deepened his voice and rekindled,

"Hey, Britney. Lookin' good today."

That's how all the hot guys in the movies do it, was his immediate reaction. She probably thinks I'm weak and a douche now, huh? A quasi-relaxed poise lay itself over Herman's thin and rather undefined jaw. There may be some confusion as to whether he was embarrassed or constipated, or both. His first interaction had gone to nil, and his reputation was probably already ruined. He supposed it didn't matter, people were going to find out he wasn't good at much of anything sooner or later; he figured he'd might as well get it out in the open before people could start making him the butt of their jokes. Dick Gregory once said 'if you laugh about something before other folks can, the joke ain't funny no more.' Or something to a similar effect.

All he knew is that he'd rather get inside than continue this painful exchange. Of course, he thought it rude to let a girl carry his luggage for him--he may be awkward, buffoonish even, but he was a gentlemen. Who knows, it might earn him back some of those ethereal "cool points." But he also didn't want to make himself seem too macho, he'd read in some magazine that girls don't like a man who thinks he can do everything by himself, so he let Britney drag one part of the suitcase while he picked up the back.

"Did I mention my name was Herman?" He gave a clownish, welcoming smile; at least as welcoming as he knew how. This was going to be a long year.

@Mr Allen J

Thwack.

Making a soft, pained sound in the back of her throat, Esperanza carefully gripped the seat in front of her with one hand, the other gingerly reaching to rub at the spot where her head had collided with the window. There had been quite a few bumps and whatnot throughout the ride, but that had been the roughest yet. The other students didn’t seem too pleased by it, either- annoyed cries, and some rather creative swears Esperanza mentally saved for later, roared around her. Frowning slightly, Esp gave her temple one last tender pat, then turned her eyes back to the window.

Esp had been awake for about thirty two hours flat, according to the phone Mama had given her before she left home. She had been so strung up with nervous energy and excitement, she hardly felt the urge to sleep anyway. Her hands were constantly occupied with the new gadget under her possession (she had changed the background at least five times before settling on a funny picture of a dog she found online), or with the sheets of paper cheerfully stating her admission to Marchand, or even with little things like a piece of string she found hanging off the sleeve of her blouse. When not keeping herself busy, her eyes had been glued to the windows of whatever transportation she had been on- the truck being no exception.

After travelling for so many hours at this point, one would think she would have grown bored of the journey, but Esperanza relished it. She devoured the scenery with her eyes.

The truck eventually jolted to a stop, flinging students around left and right- luckily for Esperanza, however, her grip was enough to keep her from getting a broken nose to go along with her bruising. Jumping to her feet (and stumbling for a moment or two from the lack of blood in her legs), Esp slipped out of the vehicle and went to gather her things.

Marchand was far more grand than anything that she had seen- with the exception of the family church, of course- but Esp found herself vaguely disappointed that there was none of the peppy music playing within the school, like the movies always had. Rolling her shoulders under the weight of her backpack, Esperanza followed the line of other students to the office, and checked herself in. She hardly noticed the secretary’s idle look, more preoccupied with the sheets pushed into her hands that anything.

The school was very large.

After being ushered out by the secretary (she hadn’t realized she had been standing there for long until she felt the hands on her shoulders), Esp found herself heading to the common room, unsure of where else to go. She saw no point in wandering- especially when none of the other students were- and, besides, now that some of the nervousness had worn off, she had realized just how hungry she was.

The first thing she noticed upon entering was just how many people were there. Gathered around tables, picking at their food, chatting. Esp stood in the doorway for a moment, hesitating, then braced herself and went to get breakfast- pancakes, since a lot of the other kids seemed to be getting them as well.

Despite how early they had arrived, the tables were rapidly filling up- some students sitting by themselves, others already bounding together in groups of twos and threes. Fours, in several cases. It meant that Esperanza would most likely have to sit with someone. Her eyes roved along the tables, eventually settling on a red-headed girl hastily trying to clean up a mess on her table. Intrigued, Esp walked over, carefully balancing her tray on one hand as she grabbed a bundle of napkins.

“Here. Let me help you. There is a lot of…” She hesitated, looking at the sludge. “Things on the table.” Carefully, she mopped some of the sodden cereal up, repeatedly glancing up at the girl to see her reaction.

“My name is Esperanza. Ciervo. Esperanza Ciervo. By the way, it is good to meet you.” Her voice was heavily accented, somewhat awkward in intonation, but the eagerness in it was clear.

@VitoftheVoid

The room, while still sizable, had quickly begun to fill up with a crowd of faces. Some Dawn could recognize- Larke Sterling among them, given the connections between his family and hers- although, for the most part, many were complete strangers. She took another bite of her pancakes, considering leaving the table for a moment to greet those familiar few, although the sound of someone clearing their throat from close by put that plan on hold. Surprised, Dawn looked up from her plate to find another, particularly brawny student standing before her, waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh. No, no, it’s- you can sit there if you want. Just me here.” She reached over, clearing some of her papers from the table into a neat stack and smiling up at him. “I’m Dawn. It’s nice to meet you, Duma. You were, um, on the bus, weren’t you? I think I remember seeing you there.”

Behind him, waves of newcomers continued to file in, grouping into tight clusters or hovering around the buffet. Most looked to be roughly around her age, although two of the people who strode in seemed a bit too old to be students. Professors, most likely. Dawn glanced absently down at her schedule, but there were no photos to confirm her theory- only names and classes.

She supposed that she would find out who they were soon, either way.

That in mind, Dawn slipped some of the papers back into her sleeve, and turned her attention back to her new companion.

@Drazah

@ScoundrelQueen

Aaron coughed in surprise as someone called his name. He hastily brushed off the pancake crumbs and whipped around to notice an older boy, whom he thought looked familiar...

"It is Aaron Heruscir, or am I mistaking you for someone? I think I remember meeting you at the Yuletide ball a few years back. You were the guy with the great jokes." Not Larke's speed of joke, of course, but everyone loved to be flattered. He leaned up against an end table and cast a glance toward the growing crowd before turning back to his company. "Name's Larke, by the way. Sterling. Pleasure to re-make your acquaintance."

The Yuletide ball! Aaron remembered. His father brought him there to let him start mingling with other families, and Larke had approached him, laughing at a few of his jokes. Aaron didn't mind the yuletide ball, it was just where the fancy families met to dance and talk about their great deeds. He was sure there was plenty of people analyzing his every word and gesture, for when he took over the family. Aaron mostly brushed it off. However that was were he had met his crush... but that didn't end well, did it.

Aaron shook off his thoughts and smiled at the comment on his jokes, "Let's be real, those jokes were terrid. Either way, it's a pleasure to meet you again Larke." He turned to cast another gaze at the crowd that was gathering. Aaron recognized a few of them, but mostly just as mere acquaintances. Every now and then some professor would walk in, examine the situation and look displeased. He hoped they wouldn't carry the same energy into the classroom. He cracked his knuckles and looked back at Larke.
"Hey Larke, I'm thinking we could chat up some people and make some friends? What do you say? It'll be fun."

Aaron stood up and brushed off the stray crumbs that had assembled on his lap, and scanned the room for people to talk with. Most people were forming in groups already, but there were a few stragglers who were left alone. There was also the professors, but he had a feeling he would get to know them well in due time. Finally, his eyes rested on a mahogany-skinned boy, who had just gotten some pancakes of his own. He pointed subtly at him. "That one."

An expensive looking car pulled up to the school drop off. Out of the back seat came a young woman in auburn colored slacks, and a matching fitted blazer and a white top underneath. The window to the backseat opened as Lux stuck her head in and gave her parents her final farewells. She took her luggage, two large rolling suitcases, a small designer back pack, and a shoulder bag, and made her way past the school entrance and took in the sights of her new school.

Marchand Academy. She did her fair amount of research on the school, and even was able to find the roster of all the students who applied, to see if she could recognize any names, and do as much research as she could on each.

A name that stood out to her was a girl named Britney Williams, who had all sorts of interesting dirt in her family history the more research Lux did. This was the girl Lux wanted to scout out first. She needed a pack and this Britney girl just might be a perfect fit for her second in command.

Lux then noticed something when she her car sped off, a girl in a cute outfit with that vibe of nobility and power that Lux herself gave off. She grinned, this must be that Williams girl she took so much interest in. But why was she helping out a, well, nobody type of person. She let go of her roller suit cases for a moment, pulled out a pocket mirror and reapplied some of her lipstick and took her suit cases again.

She walked past the boy who seemed to be struggling more with his luggage, bumping into him, whether she did so on purpose or by accident was unclear. But she almost like a magnet began to walk besides Britney. "Hi!" She gave a friendly grin. "I couldn't help notice how you walk with such a powerful stride in your step. I'm Erica Luxlane, you've probably heard of my family's name. What's yours?" She had a certain calmness in her voice. Of course, she new who this girl was, but it was just ethical to ask for her name, wasn't it?

@Afro Samurai@Mr Allen J

Larke gave a good-natured chuckle and a light shrug as Aaron criticized his own jokes. They could have been worse, he supposed,
but so could a lot of things. The mention of networking caused his smile to brighten. "Nothing wrong with making friends early, right? Never hurt to shake a hand." Larke's line of sight fell on some poor sap making the mistake of coming onto Dawn Memoli, but Aaron spoke again before Larke could point him out.

He followed the subtle point to a young man with the fade haircut, and nodded. He wanted to guess the boy as being a Leon; he was 88% certain he had met the boy at a trade meeting with his father, but nothing rubbed someone the wrong way like mistaking them for a member of a different family.

He strolled toward the prospective new friend as he was filling his plate, and took the opportunity to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Morning," he greeted, adding a splash of cream to his styrofoam cup. "I think we may have met? I'm Larke Sterling." He picked up the cup with his left hand and extended his right to shake. "And this is my friend, Aaron Heruscir." He indicated Aaron with a slight nod, and paused for a beat after each name so that the boy could place them if he was so inclined. "I'm sorry, but I can't seem to place your name."

@AluminumDude@LokiLeo789

A sharp, piercing gaze swept from person to person. It was the sort of look that others would liken to a beast staring down it's prey. Though in reality, it was not the owner's true intention. The white haired boy, whose sharp gaze remained unchanged, was simply looking at everyone on the bus out of curiosity. He attempted to guess the other's personality types to pass the time while scowling due to the rough terrain that made the bus ride rather uncomfortable. Next to the boy sat a girl whose eyes were closed and leaned against his shoulder.

Every bump the bus experienced prompted soft groans of protest from the girl. Turning his head to look at the girl, his sister, Allen felt the warmth of fondness touch his heart. Though as usual, the warmth didn't reach his eyes. Thankfully around the time Allen had stopped looking around and was thinking of sleeping, the bus arrived at it's destination. A tired whine drew his attention to his previously sleeping sister.

"Finally awake?"

"Mm hmm." The newly awoken, sleepy eyed girl responded with a nod of the head. Two differently colored eyes opened slowly as she looked at him. "Have we arrived?" Kaitlyn asked with a groggy tone whilst rubbing the remainder of sleep from her eyes.

"just now." Answered Allen in his usual cold tone. He'd already moved to stand and was retrieving 'luggage' they'd brought. Which was mostly just a few sets of clothes for the two of them, a phone that belonged to Allen and a large book with contents all about Runes. Which was Kaitlyn's belonging.

With Kaitlyn exiting the bus first, Allen followed. The sibling's eyes widened at the sight of the building which was where they would both live and attend classes. It really was quite the sight for commoners like themselves. A sharp pain on his arm prompted Allen's stare to fall onto his sister. "Wouldn't you normally pinch yourself in this situation?"

Kaitlyn's only response was innocent smile. To which, Allen just ignored and ushered her towards the building's entrance. It was quickly appearent that there was nobles mixed in amongst the growing crowd within. Neither Kaitlyn or Allen knew how to handle nobles given their backround and the two exchanged akward smiles.

"what do we do now?"

"... wait and foolow the crowd?"

"Sounds good." Kaitlyn's cheerful voice answered. She was feeling much better now after waking up and being off that bus. Allen simply stared quietly at his sister and remained quiet. Kaitlyn opened her book and started reading whilst the two waited for orientation to start, both feeling a bit out of place.

Helena had been spending the last couple of minutes struggling to mop up the amorphous puddle of cereal with two napkins, fearing any greater movement to fetch more would disturb the small lake and send it over the rug that she suspected costed quite a considerable amount of money. She had sort of hoped someone might offer some assistance, but after successive entrants had merged into conversations, and too embarrassed to actually ask, she'd resigned herself to this frustrating exercise.

That was until Esperanza intervened. Even though it might well have been just out of a wish to find an open seat, Helena was incredibly grateful, and gave a sheepish grin as she soaked the milk up with the new supply of napkins. Someone had had sufficient concern to help her out, and was sufficiently friendly to offer greeting.

"Thank you so much... I wasn't sure how I was going to.. Oh! I'm Helena. Helena Kingsley. My friends call me Hel."

Or rather they would, if she had friends aside from her younger brother, members of a Labyrinth fan forum, and stuffed toy rabbit she occasionally relayed her problems to.
@EchoicChamber

---

Hilda Norrevinter, the woman stood with the scandinavian group, turned from her niece in order to catch sight of Professor Byrne, and returned with a smile that probably could be considered convincing.
"Maeve, you look well! Kora, this is Maeve Byrne, she was a ...friend mine and of your father's, during the war."

The pause in the statement was apparently lost on the tall, ginger-haired teenager, who extended her hand to shake Maeve's in a way that had probably sprained some wrists in the past. Being as she had a set of headphones hung round her neck that were still issuing the quite background-noise of someone scream-growling in norwegian it was probably not totally her own fault.
"You teach combat right? I can't wait. "

With the bags sat at her feet was a large leather scabbard, a hilt and crossguard of a large, roughly-hewn sword visible. There was also a decorated bear skull, a bag of runes, and a small wood box filled with aesir idols carved out of volcanic rock. Kora was apparently well-prepared.@ScoundrelQueen

“Helena? Helena.” The girl had said that her friends called her Hel, but given that she and Esperanza were not quite friends yet, the necromancer refrained from calling her that just yet. Perhaps someday, but not now. She smiled brightly at Hel, then continued her work in clearing up the spill.

“You do not need to thank me, Helena. I am happy to help you clean up.” By this point, some of the milk had soaked into the gauze around her arms, causing it to droop and expose more of the ink beneath. Esperanza made a half hearted attempt to dry it before giving up and ripping the bandages away and into the garbage. Tattoos and fresh scabs wound up her skin like ivy.

“Do not be worried about the cuts,” Esp said, returning to the table with fresh napkins. “My mother taught me how to use Blood Magic. I know some, but I am hoping to learn more here.” She smiled again, patting away at a particularly sludgy mound. “What classes will you be having, Helena?”

@VitoftheVoid

"Dawn!? Such A pretty name! Oh and yes I was on the bus, Just come from my foster parents house, They dont have a car," He said with a semi-embarrassed smile as he ate and rubbed his scalp. "Anyway~," With a small chuckle in between "It was an absolute delight meeting you, and In the light of myself having no friends as of right now I'm afraid I must draft you to be the first!" He said smoothly with a flirtatious smile, add a hint of seduction.

He continued working at the rest of his food carrying on small talk with his newfound darling, though he couldn't say it to her face yet, he really enjoyed her company and didn't want it to end. To save himself from having her end the conversation, when he had finished his last bite of his meal, he dipped his head respectfully. "I'm afraid I must go, I have quite the load of unpacking to do and it looks like we both have some school work already," Gesturing to the papers they both got from the receptionist lady. "I hope to see you around! If you ever see me out and about, Please catch my attention, You are such a doll I would never refuse a conversation!" He said with another smile and a wink as he stood up and grabbed his bag, Letting the arm closest to her pick up the bag so that she would see his arms tense.

"Girls love muscles right? I hope so, Or else I'm looking like a real idiot right now" he thought to himself never missing a step and grabbing his plate and dishes as he slew his bag over one shoulder. He gave her one last nod of departure and walked to where the kids who had finished were dropping off their dishes. Then he readjusted his bag and checked the papers to see where his room was. Locating it he started to make his way towards it looking around in case anyone were to approach him he wouldn't be caught off guard.

"You look well," Hilda said. The self-righteous bitch.

Maeve shook hands with Kora, giving an encouraging nod as she did so. "I do teach combat," she replied, "and if your grip has anything to say, I suspect you'll be a strong melee opponent. But I will be needing you to come by my office and register all of your weapons with me before the day is out." She looked toward Hilda and her partner, with an apologetic shrug. "Just policy."

She gave Hilda a final clap on the arm; a normally friendly gesture that would indicate absolutely no thinly-veiled animosity, and nodded to Kora. "If it's all quite well, we may as well walk you up to the assembly, Miss Kora. Lovely to see you again, Hilda." It was lovely, really, in the same way that cleaning the shower drain of a girls' communal bathroom was lovely: A long affair of pulling up things you had almost forgotten existed, and then remembered in one nauseating sweep.

She stepped back so that Kora could hug and gather her things, and then proceeded to lead her up the stairs. As soon as the elder vikings weren't looking, the smile dropped and Maeve was back to fiddling with her shirt cuffs in an effort to restore circulation to her hands. She said nothing as they ascended the steps to the common room.

There was, naturally, some concern as to Kora's reaction when she found Sterling up there, as well, but Maeve sincerely hoped the girl would have more restraint than her father.

Hope, however, was not the same as confidence.

@VitoftheVoid