As the fight broke out, was resolved, and Lovette commenced the orientation speech, there was little sign of Professor Kovalenko. The woman seemed to have disappeared into thin air, perhaps in an effort to avoid dealing with the resumption of the ancient feud over the breakfast table, perhaps to attend to other matters.

That was, right up until Professor Byrne seemed to begin to act strangely. The shadows seemed to deepen and shift into a dark,yawning void for a fraction of a second, before the woman in the long dark coat stepped out next to the other professor and in one deft movement wrapped a gloved hand around the woman's upper arm and pulled her rather firmly back to the wall.
"Shall we step out for a moment?" she asked, a seemingly pretty innocuous thing to say...

....but anyone listening might pick out the distinct edge to her voice, something bordering on hostility. A question that was far closer to a statement.

Or a threat.



Dinah was continuing her raiding of the breakfast table at the appearance of the teachers, and, as it happened, the appearance of another student next to her.Whether this was out of choice or just due to the place filling up, she wasn't totally sure, but didn't mind either way. A girl with dark hair and a demeanour and outfit that suggested they differed so far in socioeconomic background that this was the only place they were likely to be sitting round each other side from in a court of law. That was, perhaps something Dinah was going to need to get used to.

"Probably the safest place to be right now given how it's going to far." she remarked, hand still full of something resembling generic brand lucky charms. She hadn't had a whole lot of time or change to grab anything to eat on the way up so the freebies were pretty welcome by that point.

The young woman listened without a huge amount of concern for the Professor's general spiel. An overview of the rules. No sex, no violence, no coconuts apparently. It was all more....advisory from where Dinah stood, but it was at least good to know when you were doing stuff that might get you in trouble.

As the general overview trailed off, dorm assignments were posted and that became more of a focal point for people. Dinah's attention was instead drawn more to a conversation between Professor Lovette and a student.

"Jeez why don't you just kneel down and lick the Prof's stilettos and be done with it..."she muttered under her breath, watching him practically apologising for war involvement. If that was what they were expecting then they were going to be severely disappointed. She wasn't totally sure if her reasons for coming her were sounds, but of the reasons she had to buff the egos of some old-ass soldiers wasn't one, that was for sure.
@chocomog333@akirashadow@EchoicChamber

(Helena following shortly!)

Elsewhere in building, students, teachers, and parents gathered together to begin the school year. Their eyes bright and hopeful, they looked to a glorious new dawn of peace, togetherness, and magical learning. By all rights, this is where Edgar Coyle should have been. This was the first opportunity the children had to meet their new professors, after all.

But of course, there was work to be done.

There was always work to be done.

He stood in his private lab, a bit of space in his rooms carved out for the express purpose. The walls were lined in runes, of warding, silencing, containing, repelling. They crossed over and over each other in eye straining patterns, liable to give one a migraine if they attempted to follow his convuluted paths. He preferred to work where he knew there would be no interruption.

The centerpiece of the room was a simple operating table, also fastidiously scratched over with wards. On the table, laying on a plastic sheet, was a young pig. Or, perhaps, something that might have once been a pig. A casual observer might have at first taken it to be a particularly gruesome piece of taxidermy, except for the steady rise and fall of the poor creature's breath.

Dr. Coyle absently wiped a bloody hand on his apron and hit a switch on his hand held tape recorder.

"Doctor's log." He said, in a crisp voice.

"Presiding over subject 009-b, nicknamed "Patches 3". Subject is, as always, a male sus domesticus, age nine weeks. Today marks day 43 since acquiring subject. Subject has thus far endured... eighty-seven individual organ replacements, skin grafts, and limb transplants. A full fifteen more procedures than his predecessor! Realignment of runic formula on line n has proven most effective in delaying host rejection. I fear, however, that the shock of moving the subject to these new facilities may limit further experimentation. Today, I will be attempting to replace subject's lower jaw, marking the sixth such transplant. Beginning incision..."

A rapid rise in it's heartbeat fluttered against his senses like a panicked bird. Frustrated, he pulled back at the creature's essence... But it was all too much. A body can only go so far.

"Vitals dropping... come now, Patches, just a bit further... Damn." He sighed. Another soul lost too soon. There was so much more to be done. "Subject expired. Cause of death assumed to be acute shock, pending autopsy results. Time of death... 11:15 AM."

Coyle removed his gloves, made a cursory effort to rinse his hands. They always seemed to be a little red stained around the nails anyway. He sat heavily at his desk and a removed a bottle of brandy along with a tumbler from a lower drawer. He poured himself a few fingers in the glass. He took a long, slow swallow before continuing his litany to the recorder.

" Unfortunate. 009-b appeared to be the most tenacious yet. But! One must break a few eggs, as they say. I believe I have learned vital lessons for Patches 4, whenever I am able to acquire another pig... Oh! Perhaps I should save the dissection for class. Subject's internal anatomy should make for a thought provoking lecture. The children will be ever so excited to see the sorts of thing a true master of the Healing arts can accomplish."

He finished his glass and smiled broadly. There was something odd in that smile, as though it were a trick he'd had to teach himself over the years.

" On a personal note, I will confess my excitement to meet our crop of young, fresh minds. As my late grandfather often said, "To shape a child in it's bloom is a wondrous thing". I feel I cannot overstate my elation in having such an opportunity laid before me. To teach... and to do some learning of my own..."

---

---

Even though she hated to admit it, Mina had been extremely nervous about attending the large school. Even though she was as bright and cheerful as she could be, the young woman couldn't help but wonder whether or not the other students would find her as charming as the folks back home did. The more Mina thought about it all, however, the more she began to feel silly. Here she was, attending the only school at which she could learn more about harnessing and controlling her magic without having to stay hidden, and rather than focusing on her classes like everyone else probably was, she was busy worrying about making friends. Much to Mina's relief, the girl who sat across from her at the table flashed a quick smile back as she introduced herself.

Lavender was what the younger girl called herself, a name that Mina thought suited her pretty well. Mina couldn't help but notice the brief, peculiar expression that crossed Lavender's face after a moment, but she decided to shrug it off as first day jitters as she reached back into her pocket. "Ah, right," Mina sighed, struggling for a moment before pulling her room key out of the front pocket of her denim jeans. "Looks like I'll be bunking in room 207 B." As she spoke, Mina took another quick glance around the room, taking in her surroundings for the first time since she'd entered the common room. The very first thing she noticed about the room was its odd assortment of furniture, and the second was the buffet table that was tucked against the far wall. She and her growling stomach were disappointed to see that the majority of the food had already been eaten. I guess that's what happens when you arrive late, the young woman thought as she turned back to face her new acquaintance.

"So, as you know, I showed up a little late," Mina said with a shrug, "Care to clue me in on anything I missed? Can't help but feel a slight tension in the room. And what's your primary, if you don't mind me asking?" Mina could have asked the young girl much more, things such as her place of origin or what she was most looking forward to in the upcoming school year, but she decided against it. She figured that it'd be best not to scare her away by bombarding her with too many questions.

Lavender follows Mina's gaze across the room She seems as nervous as I am? Heh and watches her take it all in. Mina either did not notice Lavender's instinctive wish to vanish, or decided to let her get away with it.Maybe she gets that we're all nervous? I should check what room I'm in in a minute, and pick up my key. You should get something to eat? You must be hungry. Food is basically all you missed, you arrived just before the grand welcoming speech.

Lavender smiles again and considers Mina's comment about the tension in the room, and wonders how she can explain this without giving away that she understands so little of who everyone is and what happened earlier. She decides to just go with the basics. Tension, yes, some of the students come from families that don't see eye to eye. There was a brief scuffle, but I don't think anyone got hurt. Lavender made sure to keep her tone friendly. She did not want to drive the other girl away with her short answers.

Curious as she was about the other girl, Lavender decided not to bombard her with questions. Asking questions meant answering them in return, and Lavender didn't want to come off all ignorant and running-at-the-mouth on her first day, and to be honest, she still didn't feel very comfortable in this room full of people that seemed somehow connected. In spite of the fact that she was finally among other magical people, she felt more of an outsider than ever.

Smiling at Mina's growling stomach, Lavender addedI could watch your stuff while you check if there's any food left? I'll check what room I'm in when you get back and smiled as warmly as she could.

@Ejected

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Lucshen.” The smile on Madison’s face was as warm as ever, as if the little lapse of of his awareness hadn’t happened, as if thoughts of the war, freshly unburied, hadn’t begun to flit in and out in the back of his mind. He eyed the envelope curiously as Jake handed it over, tearing it open and looking over the the paper that had been neatly folded within. “Well, I certainly appreciate that your family informed us. Especially with Family Day so soon on the schedule!” With deft hands, Madison folded up the paper once more, sliding it into the pocket of his blouse for safekeeping. In the corner of his eye, he could see Oren stepping out of the darkness to join Maeve. Some of the tension that had wormed its way down his spine released its hold.

Good.

Madison beamed at the young man before him. “I look forward to having you, Mr. Luschen. I hope you enjoy the curriculum that I’ve put together- for both my classes. I wish you the best in getting settled in your new room.”

And then came the voice of another student, admonishing Mr. Luschen for what he was doing.

He turned a little to see who it was, only to stiffen a little. If Jake- or anyone, really- had been paying attention, they might have noticed the professor freeze, the guilt that shone fresh in his eyes, his lips thinning into a line. Brushing out his skirt, Madison uttered a quiet “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” before hurrying to join Professor Kovalenko at Byrne’s side.

“Is everything alright?” His voice was kept soft, but there was still a clear note of concern within it.

@akirashadow@VitoftheVoid@ScoundrelQueen

---

“Seems like it.” Quite literally hopping out of his chair, Percival snatched the last of his food and shovelled it all into his mouth, like a squirrel making last minute additions to a hoard that was desperately unprepared for the long winter to come. It didn’t really all fit, so he sort of had to awkwardly press his hand against his mouth to hold everything as he chewed, choking a little as he rushed through the remainder of his meal. After an agonizing few seconds, he managed to swallow the whole mess down, then smacked himself on the chest to clear his windpipe up some.

“If there’s a bunk-bed or anything, I call dibs on the top. Just saying. The top bunk is the best one, and I’m willing to lay my life on the line if it means securing it. I mean, not really, but, y’know. You get my drift.” Percival bent down, threw his bags over his shoulder, and then went on his merry way. He’d have to get one of those slip-things for weapons sooner than later, seeing how he was currently keeping some good ol’ sharpened steel tucked away in his suitcase, but getting settled in his room was higher up on his agenda than anything else for the moment.

He had to admit, though, as far as roommate goes, he got off pretty lucky. Isaiah didn’t seem like the sort of dick that would get on his case if everything wasn’t absolutely immaculate and museum-worthy, or the sort of guy that would just let a sea of pizza boxes drown them both. He was kinda quiet, sure, but it wasn’t like there was anything overly wrong with that or anything. The quiet ones tended to have a lot more patience for his bullshit than most others.

Key freshly in hand, Percival bounded down the hall of the boy’s dorm, counting off the numbers under his breath until he reached 203. He sort of fumbled with the lock for a moment, struggling to get it open one-handed, but eventually triumphed over a short battle and pushed the door open.

The inside of the dorm was...sort of nice, actually, if not really boring. There were two twin beds at the back, each pushed apart to their own separate sides of the room, with a window leading out to the woods positioned between them. Two nightstands, placed right beside the beds. Two wardrobes at the foot of the beds. A pale grey carpet that smelled fresh out of the store, some plain wood desks, two plain wood chairs, a plain wood floor, and plain white walls...

Sure, it was practical.

But it was also boring as all hell.

That was going to change very, very soon.

“Dibs on the left side!” Without waiting for any affirmation that Isaiah had heard him, Percival swung his bags onto the left-most bed. He followed shortly after, leaping onto what surface wasn’t now covered up with a loud war cry. There wasn’t much space, however, which lead to him knocking his head against the wall and giving a quiet “ow, shit”under his breath.

A great way to start off the year, honestly. Perfect way to set the tone.

@Prosaic

It had been several weeks since the first ever semester of Marchand Academy had begun.

And as far as things went at a magical high school, things had been...relatively calm, if not without the excitement that one would expect to come with a new school, new friends, and new, somewhat strange teachers.

Classes had begun as soon as Monday hit, giving the students ample time to get settled in and get to know one another. Friends were made. Some discussed their families, others chose other, safer grounds to tread on. The Professors hung in the background all the while. Some made an effort to interact and get to know their students, while others only really acknowledged their charges when the students made trouble or asked something- and even then, made it obvious that they’d rather be doing literally anything else.

As one might expect, when classes rolled around, these same teachers hardly changed in behavior.

Madison Lovette had been one of the more affable teachers- cheerfully answering questions and stepping in to resolve whatever trouble that needed to be dealt with. When class began, he kept his sunshine demeanor. Homework was light. Efforts were made in class to keep students engaged, despite the rather dry tone of the knowledge conveyed in history class (most of which included offering candy for particularly compelling responses in class discussions). He was an enthusiastic teacher, passionate. His Pyromancy class he taught with just as much excitement, although he didn’t teach in quite the most orthodox means.

Considering the fact that it essentially served as a glorified cooking-and-mundane magic use class.

There was no exciting burning of dummies. No very literal fire-fighting. Instead, they were expected to do...simpler things. Bake this cake. Roast this turkey. Boil tea. Light a candle, and put it out again. Subdue a campfire with your pyromancy alone.

Life at Marchand went on. The days marched on.

Sunday had rolled around again, much to the delight of many students. It was currently around nine a.m. or so, meaning that many students (with the exception of night owls, the particularly lazy, or those who had been busying themselves in the dark of the day) were already up and about.

The day was looking to be a regular, rather sleepy one.

Perhaps that would change sooner than not.

@VitoftheVoid@Avanhelsing@LorelleQuips@ScoundrelQueen@Akayaofthemoon@Gelatinous Cube@chocomog333@Prosaic@Sailorsadie@akirashadow@KillBox@Furiosa@Oooie@Dutchess Sarah@Trinais@Ejected

---

“All around us are people, of all classes, of all nationalities, of all ages. For three days these people, these strangers to one another, are brought together. They sleep and eat under one roof, they cannot get away from each other. At the end of three days they part, they go their several ways, never, perhaps, to see each other again.”

Dawn ran her tongue along the pad of her thumb, then slid the digit neatly beneath the page, flipping it to the next. Murder on the Orient Express. She had first read the novel when she maybe nine or so, give or take a few months. She had been held by a staunch fascination of the world of detectives around that time, devouring whatever scrap of text or bit of medium she could get her hands on. Her passion for the genre had been so strong that she had dressed herself up in a fake little stovepipe and a hunter’s cap that Halloween, much to the amusement of her family. Even after the holiday had passed, the hunter’s cap had remained, up until the point that it could no longer be worn and was in near shambles.

One of her favorite novels from the time had been this one, and she had found herself reading through it again after stumbling upon it in the library. It lost some of the excitement and luster it first held for her with the knowledge of the culprit of the crime, but it was still enjoyable regardless.

Flip. Flip.

It was a quiet day so far in the common room. Dawn wasn’t really complaining, of course. She enjoyed the quiet. There was a faint jazz piece that she couldn’t name off the top of her head in her ear, courtesy of her earbuds, but that was about it. That, and the sound of her own breathing, of the book, of the drone of the television in the background.

Flip. Flip.

It was after she reached the next chapter that Dawn stopped. Carefully slipping a bookmark shaped to look like a leaf between the pages, she closed the book and put it away into her purse. Her magic worked quickly as she tore her eyes away, whisking it safely off into her backpack for the time being.

She was feeling a bit hungry, though. While the common room had a few vending machines, filled with chips and granola galore, none of them held anything that would make for a proper breakfast in Dawn’s eyes. Stomach growing slightly, she stood, plucking the earbud from her head, and moved to slip out of the room and head to the dining hall.

A few years prior, one of the old boys who spent their time drinking on the streets of his home town told Layne that 'these were the best years of his life'. He said that young Towerfall should be spending his time learning, growing, and making friends. That one day he would blink, and he'd be gnarled old man too, pining away for days of youth he'd never see again.

Layne had promptly told the drunk to suck a box of cocks. At 15, Layne felt he had much bigger fish to fry than finding friends to drink warm beer with in a barn like a regular teenager. Issues like "what will I eat tonight", "god I hope it doesn't rain and flood the house again", or "I wonder if Dad will be the angry kind of drunk or the weeping incoherently kind of drunk tonight".

Now, sequestered away in the relatively isolated halls of Marchand, Layne saw a whole world of opportunity he had scarcely realized existed. He was making friends, something that came as a surprise to him. There was a learning curve in dealing with his peers in a healthy manner, but Layne felt that he should at least get a B for effort. He hadn't broken anyone's jaw, which was much better than he'd done at any previous school. He was dating, for God's sake, how on earth had that happened? And a noble born girl no less. Boy, had his Dad flown into an apoplectic fit when he learned that his 'boy was gettin' cozy with a goddamn Norrevinter'. Layne couldn't be bothered to care what the bitter old bastard said one way or another: He loved the girl fiercely, and intended to ride the situation out to it's end.

Certainly it wasn't all sunshine and daisy field frolics: There were the inescapable issues that came from compressing a large number of volatile teens in a small space, exacerbated by the fact that said teens had the powers of the universe at their fingertips. Not to mention the distinctly unsettling machinations that seemed to happen in the shadows around them. It was nerve wracking at times, but on the whole he was rapidly growing to trust and respect their teachers. After all, it couldn't be all that dangerous, could it? While he wouldn't trust the Council as far as he could throw them, he also did not believe they'd go through all this trouble just to murder a bunch of kids.

That morning, he sat in the courtyard, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, a half cup of coffee growing cold on the bench next to him. In his lap he held a stone hand ax, that week's project. He ran his thumb slowly and methodically along the blade, muttering a constant stream of nonsense words under his breath.

Strong, he thought. Sharp. Strong. Sharp. He chanted these words like a mantra in his mind, infusing the weapon with his power. After two days of fussing with the shape to get it just right, and another day enchanting on top of that, Layne felt he was begging to get the hang of the whole process. He stopped, hefted the weapon in his right hand, and pitched it hard toward a tree across the courtyard. The axe struck true with a sharp crack of splitting wood. Layne grinned with pride. The axe had bit neatly into the bark, sinking in an inch or two and sticking there. It hadn't shattered either, which he would chalk up as a win.

A small chirp from the bench beside him caught his attention. He looked down and smiled fondly at the sleepy coil of his familiar Bobby, snoozing in the sun. The creature wasn't quite as strange as many of the other familiars he'd seen so far: Perhaps three feet long, she might have been mistaken for a sky blue snake. That would be if one missed her clawed limbs, the ruff of white fur that ran down her back, and the ferret-like structure of her furry little face. Snakes do not often speak in cryptic haiku either, another key difference from his draconic companion.

He carefully scooped her up (waking her would certainly result in another bite to his already scarred arms) and slipped her into the leather satchel he kept for that exact purpose. Like the royal creature she was, she spent most of her time snoozing and letting Layne carry her around like a dutiful servant. Satisfied with his work for the time being, he wiped his brow, slung the Bobby bag over his shoulder, and ventured out into the halls to find the others.

It wasn't long before he spotted another student, and his face split into a broad, sunny smile.

"Hey, Memoli!" He called. Dawn had not been the first friend he'd made among his classmates. On paper, it didn't make much sense for him to be as close to the clever and quiet little slip of a girl as he was. In the weeks prior, however, she had become what Layne would consider to be the best friend he'd ever had. He loved her as well, in a different sort of way, like the sibling he'd always wished he had. He had a heart as big as whale, Layne Towerfall. He jogged up to her, careful not to jostle the sleeping dragon in his bag too much.

"What's up, dude? Nice fuckin' day we're havin'. Sun's shinin', birds singin', an' I ain't even hurt myself once today." He paused, scratching his nose and considering. "Though, I'd even take fire and hail as long as we got the day off.... What're ya up to? Seen anybody else yet?"

The initial weeks for Jake had not been pleasant. Though he had expected at much, granted he was likely the most deserving of the blame. The stigmata of his name loomed like an eternal shroud as he avoided interacting with the other students outside of the bare minimum that he had to partake in due to class activities. Of course there was also that roommate of his, what was his name again? Chen Xiaobao, Jake clicks his fingers as he remembers the name as though it was a challenge.

Within the classes, the pyromancy felt rather simplistic, though some of the tasks were not ones he'd typically use his powers for. To control energy at such a fine level, almost had seemed impossible for such a destructive force, one that he had personally been more invested in the combat side of prior to attending the academy. However the learning of theory had been rather interesting, along with the history of magics origin. Knowledge was always a fascinating thing for his family, their family, Jake would remind himself mentally over and over again. He had known the truth, it was his right to, how many of the students and staff knew was hard to gauge. Those that did, if any, had not admitted as such but so long as they weren't going to blurt it out to everyone he wasn't too concerned.

Over the weeks he had continued to make a conscious effort to keep his face partially covered with an assortment of hoodies that he switched between. There was a principle behind it, though it would easily be perceived as some kind of misguided fashion statement that would never catch on with the other students, hopefully. This along with his general avoidance of the other students may of gave off a somewhat dismissive vibe but if that's what he required in order to have moments to think then so be it. Perhaps some would think the action was justified, he couldn't really blame them if they did. In a moment of irritation of his own mind, Jake raised his hand to rub the scar on his cheek hidden within the hoods coverage.

But he had to look on the bright side for a change. It was Sunday, a nice allotment of free time that granted him the chance to through strategies at his leisure, without having to hide it every couple of minutes from his professors. The thick, but plain paper pad which he carried with him 'Lucshen Battle' scrawled on its cover. It had been in his possession to every class and had been on his person almost exclusively all day at the weekends. Every couple of days another sheet of paper would end up tacked on the wall of his side of the dorm. He wasn't quite sure what Xiaobao made of it, but then he didn't really care. Not that his notes would make any form of logical sense, his method for working was rather chaotic at best, leading to notes with arrows pointing to join different sections to one another scribbled down on different segments of the page. It could quite possibly be closely resembled by the writings of a madman, if one were justified to make such a judgement.

He had left his dorm room as early as he could make a break for it to avoid any unwanted small talk as he made his way toward the common room with a soft hum. Opening his book as he did so. "Let see here... this would be, number six?" As Jake spoke to himself he circled a six in the corner of the page. Likely the only part that made any sense, an increasing number system. As he turned the corridor closing in on the common room he comes to an almost sudden stop as he saw two students greeting each other in the hall. Names.. names... names... Having established the most basic of information he continued onward nodding as he passed. "Memoli... Towerfall..." As the sun shone through the window causing his eyes to squint, he brought himself to a stop a few feet from the other two. "Nice fucking day indeed Towerfall. Still plenty of time to hurt oneself however, maybe don't take your name to literally."

With that Jake continued on his way, he needed some form of sustenance and maybe he could catch a quiet breather before the masses would inevitably dog-pile into the common area. As luck would have it, the common room was near to empty just seemed to be that Santora guy for now. Rather than engage in small talk however he quickly scooped up an apple and bit into it as he found a seat resting the paper pad on his lap as he begins to sketch out shapes and symbols, assigning them numbers and letters as he goes. The he places his pen down to one side, staring at the page as though analysing what he done for some kind of deeper purpose.

Interactions: @Prosaic
Mentions: @VitoftheVoid @ScoundrelQueen @EchoicChamber @LorelleQuips @Akayaofthemoon

It was a pleasant morning on the school's track and Ray was delighting in a long run. After his stint in a Council appointed rehab clinic he had been perturbed by the amount of weight he gained in such a short time. Without the drugs and the day to day life of War itself to keep him trim (and often times hideously malnourished) he had packed the pounds on in no time.
So with all the extra time on his hands, no longer fighting and hardly able to hold down a full-time job he had turned to fitness with a voracious appetite. It was like he had grown so used to pain that he didn't even know he was pushing himself too hard until he puked.

These days however, he had learned his limits and only probed them gently. He maintained a good physique through cardio and endurance lifting, and he was happy enough for that.
Besides, there was just something so calming about feeling the cool morning air rush by him as the music in his ears (some obnoxiously loud Death Metal group) gave him a beat to run to. Each step fell in time with the pounding rhythm of the music and made him push ever onward.
It was also a good time to reflect upon his last few weeks of lessons.

They had gone surprisingly well. Though that was to be expected when his expectations were as low as they had been. Despite his mismatched and rather motley classes, nobody had yet done anything out of line. Though judging by the glances some of his more affluent students stole when they thought he wasn't looking they were none too happy about being told what to do by some lower class ex-junkie like Ray. Others were just seemingly disinterested.
He had begun his lessons with theory to gauge how much knowledge the students had brought with them. A week of that and then he went practical. First showing them a basic Defense ward against physical blows, the kind of shield that would deflect concussive force or bludgeoning attacks, but not so much a piercing strike such as a bullet or blade. He simulated the effect with a Pitching Machine, hurling tennis balls. A few students were left with bruises (to their bodies and egos), but most picked it up with little effort.
Still, it was only a matter of time until someone stepped out of line. His Defense class was tough, because it had to be. You didn't learn to defend yourself by being mollycoddled. His Toxin Production class would include nothing at all on how to make anything psychotropic even though he knew very well how to do that.
After all is said and done, his students were still kids, forever thinking they were more grown up than they actually were. It was their nature to push boundaries and be upsetting. The challenge for Ray was understanding how far to let them go before reigning them back in.

He finished his run and took a moment to catch his breath.
It wasn't just the students that were challenging him, but some of the Professors as well. Most of them were fine, easy to get along with and not the type to probe at anything personal. Every now and then a Professor would be asked to help out on a lesson. Professor Madison had come in to a few of his Toxin Production lessons already, lending his expertise and sunny demeanor.
Ray still clashed with Professors Kovalenko and Byrne. He highly doubted Maeve would ask for his help in one of her Combat classes...unless it was just to beat the snot out of him in front of her class. Strangely enough Ray and Professor Spire got along just fine, despite him carrying around a very dark reputation. Perhaps there was some kind of kinship in being misfits, however their relationship remained respectfully professional.
He had been most drawn to Professor Odyssia Leventis, finding her to be as kind and easy going as Professor Lovette. He often found himself gravitating towards her without even realizing it, though only to make idle chit-chat.

He made his way inside to take a shower and then head to the cafeteria his some mid-morning food. He walked in wearing casual clothes, a t-shirt, sneakers and blue jeans, and holding a bottle of water which he took long refreshing draws from.
He noticed one of his students - Isaiah Parrish - already there. Ray served himself up a meal and walked by the boy.
"Morning Mister Parrish," he said affably enough, "Good work on Friday's lesson. You're really getting to grips with the material."

The first few weeks went by rather swiftly for him...

Classes happened. People met, and burned.

Ever since that one incident, during class, where he lost control of his powers. He has been very reluctant to use his powers at all. Preferring to stay away from people and just basically living like a hermit. He has seen his roommate, Jake, from time to time. But, outside of class, and eating in the mess hall, XiaoBao is rarely seen.

Much less with a smile on his face.

As time continued on at Marchand, he opened up slightly more and more. Today seems to be the day when he is ready to face the world again. He cleaned himself up, and walked into the common room. Making some tea from himself, he waited for anyone to step in. He is determined to make up for what he has done, and to learn better control of his powers...

---

Canvas carefully un-arranged a few of the strands of dark hair he'd just finished combing into place, so that it wouldn't look like he spent twenty minutes on it. Even though he had.

Jogging into the hall for breakfast, he spotted his roommate and cut into line with him. "Ey, Nolan," he said, like they were just meeting for the day, like they hadn't just been silently doing their own respective thing in the same room. Canvas was not a morning person. It took walking out the door, like some kind of magical gateway, to jump start him into his usual, talkative self. He was glad his roommate didn't feel obligated to talk to him every second, and they could just....chill.

"Any big free day plans? Theaters to visit? Stuff to buy? Outdoorsing to outdoors? Oh wait. We're in the middle of nowhere and we can't leave." He paused, thoughtful. "I wonder if we could throw a pool party without Kovalenko putting our asses in detention," he mused.

Canvas liked Nolan. He'd lucked out in terms of getting another necromancer, and getting one who was friendly and normal-ish, and getting one who didn't even practice corporeal, so that he didn't have to bite back remarks when it grated on the values of his upbringing. Because ugh. Nobody wanted to hear about his damn values. What fun was that?

---

---

---

The breeze rustled Tatia's short chiffon skirt and licked her hair as she poised her bow to the violin strings. It probably looked charming but it was just a little too cold for that, and distracting. So she made it stop, erecting a pocket of still air around her. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was in a practice room at her old high school, minus the smell of old carpet.

Tatia had been getting the hang of the whole magic thing. Well, not skill-wise. She was still pretty mediocre. But the culture shock had more or less worn off, and she only had to blink blankly at people every once in a while, now.

But she had still fallen out of her rhythm, and so she had woken up a little early, grabbed her violin case, and slipped outside to a corner od the courtyard, to do something normal.

"Long time no see," said Tatia, angling her jaw into the chinrest.

She began to play one of her many memorized pieces. Vitali's Chaconne.

The first clear, loud note sang across the courtyard, followed by a sharp melody, each note flowing to a crisp vibratto, punctuated by moments of two-string harmony, and extra, unexpected runs...she liked to season songs to her own taste.

It was obvious she had spent a lot more hours in her life practicing music than she had practicing magic.

There was no sense of wonder visible on her face. A very small smile was all. She looked almost bored. But she wasn't. That was just her face.

---

The first two weeks had been really tough on Lavender. Having always lived with her parents, Lavender had a difficult time getting used to being surrounded by others all the time. Homework, meals, lessons, down-time, she even had to share a bedroom with one of the girls. The whole thing had been overwhelming and at times even frightning, and more often than not considered just disappearing from all the hustle and bustle around her. She longed for home, for privacy and time to herself, for all the familiar things she'd left behind. Her being shy and used to being unwanted by her peers didn't do her any favours, Lavender had a hard time making friends when she was at her best.

And then there was the school itself. The lessons were complicated and she felt out of her depth most of the time. Nothing she had learned at school had prepared her for life at Marchand. She had of course read as much as she could once she'd found out what she was capable of, but that had always been more of a "now what did I do" kind of thing, rather than an active search for information she could convert in to skills.

It hadn't taken her long to realise that everyone seemed out of their comfort zone. Like Lavender, everyone needed time to adjust to life at Marchand, and though she remained aware of her lack of training, Lavender slowly started to feel at home in the crowded manor. She was an avid learner and really tried to make the most of her lessons and the chance she was given to develop her skills and learn to control her magic.
After a week or two, Lavender realised she was slowly getting used to being surrounded by people, and even noticed herself gravitating towards the others. She stopt hiding away in her room and often found herself sitting in the common room or spending time outdoors with the other students. At first, she didn't join in on the activities or conversations and seemed content to just be a part of things, but recently she had made valiant efforts to overcome her shyness and tried to join the fun.

At the moment, Lavender is curled up on one of the sofas in the common room, completely engulfed in one of her schoolbooks and sipping a cup of tea.

It didn’t take long for the others to begin arriving; filtering from one dorm hall or the next, or from wherever else in the school if they were particularly early risers. The weeks spent at Marchand let Dawn pick out a few familiar faces as they passed with an idle glance. There was the boy who had the strange tendency to take naps in front of a vent, there was the girl who would bring an entire party sized bottle of Fanta to class and take, slow, leisurely sips of the stuff throughout the hour. Dawn brightened up upon catching sight of a certain pair, however- one Nolan Santora, and Isaiah Parrish. She returned the waves of both with her own and a smile as she slipped out of the common room, stomach snarling a little as she did so. A part of her considered dropping back to chat with one of the other, but she dismissed it. They seemed a bit busy at the moment, and she could always seek them out later.

She had only made it a short distance away from the common room’s doors when she ran into another friend she had ended up making. Dawn ended up having to step back a little and tilt her head up to actually meet the other’s eyes, but there was warmth in her smile as she did so. “Oh, um. Hey, Layne. It’s...definitely been a really nice day so far. Although I feel like you might end up jinxing yourself if you say something like that.” Dawn herself was aware that it was a bit of an odd friendship, to say the least. Layne was just as large in personality as he was in build, and Dawn was...well. Pretty much the opposite, to say the least. Still, he had easily become one of of her closer- if not closest- friends, and it was something she was incredibly grateful for.

“I, um. Was just heading off to the dining hall to get something to eat. The common room’s been filling up pretty fast, so there’s probably going to be more people around...fairly soon, I think. Have you been doing anything interesting, yourself?” She paused a little as another student passed, bowing her head respectfully. “Good morning, Lucshen.” The name hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was the sort that left a bad taste in some mouths, perhaps- those who had been more heavily affected by war and conflict. Dawn was not one of those people, however. The name may have been a more scandalous one, but seeing that her own wasn’t exactly the most reputable, she hardly considered herself one to judge. She watched him go a moment, then turned back to Layne, absently scratching her side as she did so.

There was no sensation in the movement, but then again, that wasn’t something all that surprising.

@Oooie@akirashadow

---

Percival let out a sort of noise that was a sort of blended mix between a scoff and a laugh. “‘Course I do. Who d’you take me for? If I’m not shoving pancakes down my gullet, what am I even doing? What is my identity? Am I still myself, or just some weird doppleganger that wound up taking my place without me even realizing? Christ, man.” Shaking his head a little, he followed his roommate all the way to the common room, making a beeline for the vending machine as he did so. He scanned over the options with the eyes of a hawk, pulled a dollar from his pocket, and with deft hands, slid it right in and punched in the number for a bag of Ruffles.

The machine grumbled its assent. The coil that pinned his delicious, savory breakfast in place began to unwind.

And then the bag fell against the glass and stayed there.

“Oh, come on!” Letting a groan of frustration, Percival pressed his face against the glass, staring longingly at the unnaturally orange cheese on the bag’s cover. “You can’t do this to me. This is a scam, I tell you. A fraud. A bamboozle!” After a few moments of staring at it with enough force to move it if looks could actually move things alone, he drew away, a look of defeat on his face. His frown of shame was replaced by a wide, face-splitting grin as a Professor wandered in, however- not just any Professor, however, but one that he was taking Defense under. Giving the vending machine a bitter smack (not a particularly hard one or anything, mind you, he’d heard enough horror stories of vending machines killing more than sharks) he sauntered over, settling himself beside Isaiah and in front of Professor Matheos.

“Oi,” he said. “What am I, here. Chopped liver?” The grin on his face made it pretty obvious that he didn’t actually feel too offended or anything, so he tried his best to make his “I am an upset and hurt student face” instead, with limited success.

You had to put in the effort at least, after all. Fifty percent of the time, effort led to success a hundred percent of the time.

@Prosaic@Gelatinous Cube

---

The sparrow in Esperanza’s grp was not in its prime- she knew that well enough. It writhed between her fingers, attempting to kick and peck at the latex covering her hand, but it was weak. Its pulse fluttered weakly in its chest, and its feathers lacked the healthy sort of sheen that its younger company held in full.

Its time almost up.

Which is why it made things a bit more easier, in more ways than one.

Below the elder sparrow was a carefully positioned bowl. There were others sitting nearby just like it- crafted from glazed clay, and painted over with colorful blossoms and skulls and beauty. The one sitting in front of her had had most of its insides washed to fading, however, much more so than the others. Taking a deep breath, Esp lifted the knife up to the sparrow’s throat, and in one clean swipe, tore it open and let the blood flow free. Her thumb ran circles against the back of the bird’s head as its movements grew slower, and the bowl grew fuller, until it had gone completely still. She whispered an apology to it as she wrung it for the last drops, thanks for the life she had been able to give Death, and then gently lowered the body onto the plastic sheet beside her.

The procedure was routine from there on out. A medical scalpel split the bird open from neck to legs, making a neat “I” incision. It dove deeper, in and out, as Esperanza systematically removed the parts that had let it eat, breathe, live. Stomach, lungs, heart, liver- all that and more, she placed in their own, separate bowl for the time being. With that done, she packed the now hollow body with sawdust, then sewed it back up with an expert hand.

Three separate aspects. Without even one, life couldn’t exist. And without life, there was no death. Esp stared at all for a moment, taking the sight in. Putting it to memory. Then, gently running her fingers once more against the sparrow’s head, she picked it up and passed it over to Chu for safekeeping.

The body. Without the soul, without the meat of the flesh, it was nothing but a husk. She would be the one to bring purpose upon it once again, when the time came. This was passed to Chu for safekeeping.

The meat. The vital parts of a being when alive, no longer needed in death. They, too, would hold a new purpose, in bringing life anew. Sliding open her window, Esp set the bowl neatly on the sill and closed it again. She would retrieve it later, after it was emptied. After it had fed the hungry, becoming a part of a living being again, rejoining the cycle of life. She smiled, then moved onto the most important part of the ceremony.

The blood. The essence of life. Holding it carefully, so as to not spill a single drop, she lifted it over her statuette of Death herself and poured. She watched with reverence as it trailed over the painted, merciful face of bone. It soaked into the clothes, puddled at the feet. It was one with Death now, and she would treasure it.

Esp stared upon Death, her Lady, the Mother of the Ciervos, with a sense of uttermost reverence. Whispered prayers tumbled from her lips. She gave thanks for her newfound friends, for the joy she had found at Marchand, and her wishes that the future would grow even brighter.

The candles surrounding the Ceremony flickered, rising and falling and dancing with fervor.

The room plunged in temperature. The lights dimmed. She could feel them- she could feel her family, those who followed them, years upon years of life and death connected to her in this short, beautiful moment, and they were all watching and they were all connected and she could hear them, her voice rising and joining them in a glorious choir, tears running down her face, her voice raw as she chanted and screamed out her love and joy and soul-

And then the candles were snuffed into smoke, thin strands of gray fading lazily into the air. The room was back to normal. Sobbing, letting Chu lick her tears away, Esperanza began to clean the statue with shaking hands. It was only when it was completely clean that she planted a kiss on its feet- feet that had been worn smooth by years and years of practice.

The procedure of cleaning up helped ease Esperanza back from the clouds. The plastic was discarded, her arms freshly bandaged, and the silence ward she had placed down washed away.

She felt calm. Rejuvenated. Smiling brightly, Esp swept Chu into her arms, and strode out of her room. Death was always with her, always waiting for her, and it was the ceremonies that helped take away some of the homesickness that sometimes gnawed in her heart.

It also helped to have Chu with her. Her best, and dearest friend.

Her best and dearest friend who had also just squirmed loose of her grasp, leaping onto the floor with a bright squeal and dashing off down the hall.

Esp blinked. Her eyes went wide. And then she was stumbling on after him, trying to pursue the much faster Familiar as he bounded off. “Chu! Chu, wait!” She nearly tripped over her own two feet in her hurry, and almost ran into a few people in the common room- gasping out a few “Sorry!”s as she did so- but still kept up a close pursuit as he bounced down the stairs and led her off to wonders unknown.

These wonders unknown, as it turned out, wound up being the courtyard- which was currently being filled with the most lovely music. Esp slowed, head cocked to the side as she listened, then slipped outside and into the crisp morning air. She broke out in a cheerful smile as she caught sight of the two already there, and gave a enthusiastic wave to them as she approached.

“Hello Tatia and Vanya!” She beamed even brighter as she looked over to Tatia, eyeing the violin in her grasp. “Your song is very beautiful. I am sorry for interrupting. I was just following my Chu, because I was not wanting him to be lost.”

At the moment, Chu seemed in hardly of any danger of being lost. Digging into the bark of one of the trees with his paws- or, rather, hands- he shimmied up the tree, letting out a sharp cry of “Van!” as he attempted to work his way up to Vanya’s branch. It might have been a bit alarming to have a grinning beast from another dimension climb towards you like some sort of horror movie monster, but as Chu was Chu, and not a human being, he was more concerned with delightedly trying to get pets from the nice, funny-smelling person than his self image.

Chu was a good boy.

Such a good boy.

@LorelleQuips@Furiosa

Hearing the school come to life around her, Lavender looked up from her book and finished her tea. She watched several people pop in and out of the common room and checked her phone for the time. What she saw there, combined with a rumble in her stomach, made her decide to close her book and get up. She put her tea mug in the kitchen area and returned to her dormroom to put away her book before breakfast. Part of the things she wanted to learn here was to fit in a bit, and having her nose buried in a book all day didn't exactly invite others to converse with her. Not that it had stopped some of them, but still. Best to show she was open to contact.

Lavender made a point of knocking before she entered her dorm room. She was quite comfortable with Espie's rituals and Chu but still made sure she didn't just barge in to the room they shared. Espie and her rituals had seemed strange to Lavender at first, but she soon learned to see the beauty of the process, and the sense of security and strenght they provided Espie. Chu was Chu, and once you got past his appearance and got used to his way of being, Chu was great.
Lavender's knock was answered with silence, so she opened the door and entered the room. Espie and Chu were not in. Quickly and quietly, Lavender placed the book she'd been reading back on her pile of schoolbooks, brushed her hair and left the room again.

Ready for a new day, Lavender made her way over to the dining room. She heard the sound of voices and smelled food *pancakes* before she entered the room. Starving and suddenly shy again, Lavender grabbed a tray and filled it up with the things she liked. She poured herself a drink and looked for a place to sit down and have breakfast.