Oh, Hakuro thought this was very funny.

It was the sort of thing he needed to brighten up his day and keep his other freakier thoughts from clouding it up on him. Yeah, that was the last thing he wanted. It was actually a good thing that Alex hadn't shouted the question of whether he understood the situation or not. Guaranteed, the answer was no, and that he really didn't care. Actually, that much was really obvious, because he wasn't even sure why anyone would make a fuss. It was just a tree! They acted like he didn't belong here or something. Well actually, one person rightfully-acknowledged that he was just being his normal self, though it must be said that Hakuro WAS having a little bit of a hard time hearing them from up here. What he definitely heard was that someone wanted to learn to climb. Okay, admittedly, this tree was more of an advanced tree to climb, opposed to other trees. Hakuro supposed it was all very well and good to want to learn. This WAS a school, after all.

"Sure! Though, it WILL take effort!"

Her friend immediately seemed to berate her, which he felt was unkind, but some people just seemed more cautious over this for some reason. It was like he'd done something superhuman and extremely dangerous, and he knew that it was normal human and only somewhat risky. There was a clear difference, which is why when the potential climber's friend called up and asked if he needed any help, the hatted youth looked genuinely confused and called back "No?", making an emphatic shrug. He didn't seem all that concerned as thhe frustrated boy - Alex - started discussing...something-or-other...with another boy, and then he suddenly seemed interested in the photos he was taking. For some reason, this also seemed to warrant some attention. What was it with people in this country? He knew he was always going to be the odd Hatto out, but this was just bizarre...

"Hang on, this is getting aggravating! I can't hear anything!"

From there, he seemed to almost slide back down, except not really. There was very clearly an iron grip he was maintaining around the trunk with his hands, while his feet angled down into the grooves of the tree, and soon he was down on the ground and taking a quick bow with a smile. There, he turned to glance at Alex with a smile, as he said, "And to answer your question, everything." And...it was about that time that his phone began to beep. Taking it out, he switched off his alarm - which was a reminder that he had class incoming - and then put it back into his pocket.

"Well, I'm afraid that's all we have time for today. I simply must dash!"

Shoom! Timing is funny like that, but...morning classes were what they were, and must be attended, so he doffed his had and took off, all while singing - for some goddamn reason - Lovely Bunch of Dragonballs. He wasn't even aware of security coming. It just worked out that way!

Romaní Bogart

_{Savaging Savant of Strength
theme}

---

There was a suddenness to everything in this moment. Time felt still, yet everything purposeful. Which each derived step forwards, there seemed to add another layer to the complexity of everyday. Rain had ceased, the chill of the night's wind was all that left the two aching for warmth. Hands gripped the cup which held the cappiccino's heating embrace in check, as lips cusped the liquid into mouth, dousing their throats and stomach in a welcoming snug of warmth. An awning, separating the two between the inside of the building and the out, one of which too drenched too be able to feasibly enter the establishment, the lady behind the counter was kind enough to pull out a towel and allow him to dry himself off, if only just slightly. His clothes still resembled traces of dampness, his hair fallen and unkempt, locks of silver hanging before his eyes, Romani adorned a light smile on his face, as he twirled the sugar one last time, blending it perfectly on his drink. The young girl's frown had subtle'd and her features seemed pensive, lose in the reflection of her own gaze. Lost in thought as her gaze peeked small glaces towards Romani, and back to her drink. The intervals of silence were long, almost as if Romani himself was allowing such to occur due to negligence or perhaps respect.

Her wound, although visible was more like a small bruise rather than anything serious. Romani took several glances at it as their time extended. And soon, the young girl spoke, almost in mumbles. Rummaging the words which stumbled clumsily out her mouth, she picked up the courage to finally let out a "Thank you." Romani didn't really know how to react as first, the suddenness of it was enough for him to halt his gulp and look at the child, tilting her sights away cusping the cup between both hands with gentle consideration. A blink, followed by the next-- "What? Say something weirdo..." Romani led out a laugh, before finally being able to down another sip. I guess he didn't have much TO say. Everything that had happened was a spur of the moment kind of thing, the winds and chimes and even the rain was unexpected. To him, it was an ordinary day like anything else, but then he witnessed something different, and like a child gleaming for a new toy he had to outstretch his arm to grasp it in him clutches. But now... the answers escaped him, and so he smiled. A smile that perhaps was warm ye unkind, bright yet unhappy.

"What happened?" Those were the words which stumbled out of HIS mouth. Reality seemed to have become much more weighted, their shoulder slumped ever forward and her eyes drifted to the distance. The blaring light of night embellished the reflection of liquid among glass and earth. The dew which permeated through the leaves and dripped ever so lightly onto a ripple in a puddle held the significance of wavering. "You know-- There's something about drinking coffee with a kid I barely know that kind of brings up something in my mind." The young girl, perhaps avoiding the question, began to speak with a bit of shakiness in her voice. But for the first time in the long while that the two were together, Romani felt a sense of sincerity from her words. "The fact that someone brings you cappuccino in a dreary night where I'm obviously a mess... It means, really, that this is all they can ever do for me." Like an arrow reaching it's mark there was a sting in the center of Romani's chest that he couldn't really explain. As if a dagger had made it's way through felt and into the epicenter of his self-worth, and overall the truth of the situation, all seemed to have befallen the young girl in a mindset of dread or even hopelessness.

"You're nice... I don't even know your name, but... You're nice. I just-- I don't really think you should put your nose in other people's business." Romani's smile grew sadder, perhaps because those were some words he too used before. Not to meddle in what's not yours. To witness, perhaps spectate at a distance. To become an observer but never a player in someone else's game of life. Romani understood this reluctantly, but even so there was something that pushed him to know. Of course, it wasn't as if it was a mystery. Her bruises and cuts, her dirtied clothes and ragged hair combined with sudden burst of the home in the middle of the night. She had a fight with her mother, it seemed to have ended in the worst case scenario and she managed to escape, with at least something intact. But, what hurt the most was her semblance of strength.

Or lack of thereof: "I would like to say now, 'I'd like to make it my business', but I'm not so kind as to want to harbor all your problems unto my life." Romani spoke earnestly as well. Perhaps out of frustration of helplessness of his own circumstances. "But I'm not as cruel as to leave someone who's obviously lost, alone." The young girl didn't leave her sight off Romani for one second, her maturity shone in moment of need, but simultaneously she didn't have the strength to retort. This is, to some extent, what she wanted to hear. "I think you know, more than anyone else, that the world isn't fair. It's never been, for anyone. But--" there wasn't a right answer for this, there wasn't something he could say to make anything better, so the words began to jumble and twist themselves in his head. Attempting to search for a pattern or a whisk of something profound, but nothing peered its head, nothing came to mind but just a blank slate, but even so, without much pause... "If there's anything I learned about anything... Is that the world isn't against you, it just, really doesn't care about you."

Her face became bleak, but perhaps she already knew this. Her silence depicted a heaviness Romani understood too often, her grip tightened around the cup and her lip sucked in "But that doesn't mean anything. The liberating thought about being invisible is that nobody can see you weaving through the cracks. Maybe we're really are just pieces of a puzzle that'll never get solved, but who the hell wants to live in a place where everything is just miserable." Romani didn't even know what he was saying at this point, but there was something liberating in releasing these words. "You're right, it's not any of my business. But I can't fall asleep tonight... knowing that I didn't do anything." He finished his drink and walked next to her, umbrella over her head. "Let's go to get that bruise checked. Please?"

--

The memory kept creeping into his thoughts. The morning seemed endless, altruism wasn't at all something that he was a master of, he was worried, but any one else would've done the same. Kindness was something that any man was capable, but what strength peered onto him that allowed his feet to move, or even stay resolute in keeping that child out of harms way that night? Perhaps he wanted to be hero, perhaps there was a certain yearning for something greater in his self, that demanded to be seen. There has been a sense of difference emanating lately, like something needed to pop out, something whispered sweet nothing to his sense. As if he was meant for more, but Romani, someone who's notability was short, who preferred to have his presence obscured, but his absence felt. To tower beyond his capabilities, allowing himself to become better than what he was prior. Strength drives the movement forward, will sustains it.

Mikhail Chekhov

"Out of my way!" Mikhail said to a couple of other students as he fast-walked to his designated classroom, passing by a weirdo in a fedora in the corridors. Giving a small 'hmph' at said weirdo, he went to his Chemistry class, noticing that he was seated near a tall blonde Finnish girl, probably eighteen years of age. Said Finnish girl looked weak and naive, but dedicated - Mikhail can use that in his quest for revenge. All he had to do was approach her after class and say his genuinely tragic sob-story and he'd get her help in deciphering the secrets of the poison that killed his father - Oh, and lie about wanting to prevent more people from dying from it.

For now, however, Mikhail studiously took notes and did quizzes and answered questions - As his rude behavior had made him enemies among the student body, it was more important that he had to get on his teachers' good sides in order to keep away from being harassed.

Looking over the current lesson, Mikhail was disappointed that it covered stuff his private studies had taken up already. No indications of poisons and how to counteract them, none of the lessons he was actually interested in learning. Nevertheless, he memorized what he could because it was needed to achieve the high academic rank he knew was going to be useful.

Once it was time for Phys Ed, Mikhail was a bundle of manic energy. Tennis, Dodgeball, whatever sport and exercise was on offer, Mikhail aced it all despite his small and frail-seeming build. Of course, he had competition, as the 'Fedora Weirdo' and 'Mr. Peppy Ponytail (Joey)' were apparently in this class as well. After noticing this, Mikhail focused himself in trying to match or defeat whatever they achieved - He was so exhausted afterwards that he didn't know if he had truly succeeded.

And now, Biology. Apparently, 'Peppy Ponytail' was there as well, along with 'Alexander the Snob' and the 'Finn Girl'. Mikhail knew that Alexander the Snob was loaded plus had a fashion deisgner for a father, meaning that he'd probably try and be the 'social lion' of the class. Well, time to establish himself as the true alpha kid on the block, as well as intimidate Ponytail and give Finn Girl his sob story. But which should take priority among those three activities? He decided to give Finn Girl his sob story first - Part of him softly thought it was because he didn't want to pick a fight just yet,but he suppressed those thoughts.

Once the school day had ended, he'd sit down beside wherever the Finn Girl was, and ask, almost courteously, "Hey, mind if the two of us have a chat?"

If allowed to sit beside her, which he was sure he would be as Merja had no reason for suspicion, Mikhail would brood quietly for a while and then ask, "Hey, what's your name, Finn Girl - I mean, Miss? My name is Mikhail Chekhov, yes, the Mikhail Chekhov. My father's death by poison caused an international incident between my birth country and my true one - This one. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

He slid into the relevant subject. "Rather, I want to ask, how good are you at chemistry and biology? And also if you are willing to serve as my assistant - I plan on discovering exactly what poison killed my father. And once I've discovered that I plan to create an antidote so no one will ever have to suffer through what he did ever again."

The young man leaned closer to her and showed her the newspaper clippings about his father's poisoning, complete with a younger version of himself at the funeral. "Proof just in case you think I'm full of horse pucky."

@Typical @FalloutJack

Now, while it is important - nay, essential - to allow for the lives of the people here to continue, we must also push forward. Time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so. The fact of the matter is that during the lives of every individual - be they from Evergreen or St. Paul's - must go on, but there shall be a certain focus on some of them. We start with the setting sun upon the general area, especially with this, the office of the Vice-Principal of Evergreen Academy, Henry Ashcroft.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Worthless, spoiled children, all of them.

He sat in his office, the evening sun peaking into the window as he looked over the reports on his desk, and eyeing the half-filled glass of scotch he'd poured for company. It was after-hours. He could do as he damn-well pleased. It was a gentleman's hour, anyway, a time for men of his time and era gathered 'round and had the odd drink and discussed important topics or past amusements. Ah, the good old days... Not like now, with everything digitized and growing way out of proportion with these self-important twats running things and these children playing at adulthood...

Well, some of them did. Others seemed content to be a grave disappointment. Thus, the file...

'The Principal's responsibility was to the running of the school', they said. 'You're enough not with the times, old boy', they said. Well, who exactly was running things if it was apparently up to HIM to administer discipline on these out-of-control students? How could truly-dedicated types, like Alexander Furst, possibly flourish when he and his ilk are bogged down with the Avas, the Joeys, the Merjas, and now this...this idiotic Japanese boy. He helped put down his kind AND Germany in the war. What does that all amount to? Nothing. Nothing but these wild, uncontrolled kids. He'd have to have Alex in here to give him a lecture, set him straight. Then...he was going to get him separated from the wrong sort of people. He didn't need people like Merja or Ava, either too passive or completely supportive of disruptive elements like this hat boy, Hakuro.

The glass of scotch was already at a quarter length. He hated this, but he would whip these fraudulent human beings into shape...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I showed you that, so I could show you this...

On the evening of the day that Alexander, Ava, and Hakuro met...well...it seemed the cards were just right. The fates collided as The Priestess, The Emperor, and The Fortune all neatly overturned at once on the table. It was time. The three students of Evergreen and St. Paul found themselves growing more and more tired that Tuesday evening and fell asleep at once, regardless of WHAT they were doing at the time.

Hopefully, no harm was done.

The three of them would find themselves on a platform of the London Underground. To be specific: Each one of them was there alone, absolutely no one else there where they stood. Identical platforms, identical surroundings, looking a bit dim and foggy around where they stood, indicating that leaving was probably not advised, as the further you looked from the spot, the more gray it seemed to get. But...that all changed, very quickly. There was the telltale sound of a subway train - looking of a sleek blue bullettrain, though in a classy and old-fashioned kind of design - on the approach. The train came to a halt and the doors slid open as a young voice called out over speaker.

"Velvet Station! Mind the gap! Mind the gap!"

All three would enter from their platforms, and although the movement and the places were identical, they entered through different doors, which then shut behind them as the train started up again, moving along rails that...if you were of a mind to look...might surprise you as to the directions they seemed to take. Alex, Ava, and the hat boy would find themselves in the midst of...





Have any of you ever read the book, Neverwhere, by chance? It describes an amusing encounter with an underground king in a subway. Granted, there was an entire world of the unnoticed and out-of-place in that book, but the important thing to note is that while the man who faced them was not a king, he seemed rather important. He sat in a very comfortable-looking chair, with a table before him that had three tarot cards hovering, face up. Numerous passenger seats of a decidedly plush nature led up to this place, which a... Boy? Girl? Both? Neither? A person bid them to "Have a seat, please!" in a rather exciteable, pleasant voice. No chance ofdetermining gender here, folks. Might well be both, or all. Anyway, the man with the nose from hell - well-dressed and ever-glaring - chose this moment, as everyone was seated comfortably, to speak in a voice that was surprisingly calm and collected. He said...



He gestured to the youth standing nearby, who now had a clipboard in hand, which could have easily been a train schedule.

"This is Amari, my assistant."

"Charmed, I'm sure."

The Attendant had spoken in an over-the-top cultured voice, just then. Igor's eyes shifted over to Amari for a second.

"In the normal fashion, Amari."

"Pleased to meet you all, sirs and madam."

Once again, Big Nose focused on the three sitting before him.

"Thank you. Now...I wish to assure you all... You are perfectly safe here. You are our honored guests, the first of a great deal, should all go well. I imagine, however, you have questions. Please...speak your mind, and we shall do our best to answer."

Alexander Furst, Ava Munroe, and Hakuro Kuroda... The three of you have entered into a world unknown to you, but very soon you shall discover a world that is literally pure imagination...and terrible nightmare. In this place, there is respite, however. The Velvet Room caters to all guests, and in this endeavour, the house reputation and indeed right to exist is on the line. Igor awaits your input, your questions and concerns. How do you react to this place, and the strangeness surrounding you?

---

Confidants:: Amari, Ava (@addamas), Hat This Kid, Igor (@FalloutJack)
Whereabouts:: Dorms => Velvet Room

---

Yawn.

Alex raised a hand to his mouth while stretching an arm upwards, averting his eyes from the boiling pot of oil frying a batch of two fish. Composing himself, he cracked his neck before looking over to the side at the other three plates on the counter. Two of the plates had two pieces of fish as well as some chips on them while the other only appeared to have chips.

At least for the time being. A small buzz emanated from his phone at least half a meter away before he pulled out the fish and set them on the plate, completing the dinner trifecta, per usual.

Stifling a yawn, Alex quickly arranged two of the plates on the counters by the stools whilst leaving the second by its lonesome as he carefully deposited the cooking utensils in the sink and began washing. While he was doing so, he honestly felt like passing out, forcing himself to stay awake either through shaking his head to the point that it looked like he was headbanging or sheer willpower alone.

"Why the hell am I so sleepy," was a question he was constantly asking himself ever since he got home. His eyes jutted over to the hallway as well for a second as he began drying off the bowl, "Then again, she was pretty tired herself when she came back as well... I really hope she didn't climb that tree, she could of..."

Going off into a tangent in his own mind, he finished the rest of the dishes before placing them back in the cabinets before snatching up his own plate and fork, and dragging his feet over to the couch in the living room.

Plopping down on the couch, he placed his plate onto the coffee table before opening up his mouth to call out to his roommates, only for a deep yawn to take the places of a proper announcement. Did today really take that much out of him? Outside of the morning, it wasn't really a tiring day.

Hm, maybe he would nap, just for a few minutes, reclining down onto the couch, letting his eyelids fall.

---

Alex blinked.

It felt like barely even a second as his eyes fluttered open, mildly flinching from the sudden awakening from his slumber, or was he still asleep. Looking down, he brought up one of his hands to stare at it, opening and closing it before taking a gander at the other.

Squinting, he furrowed his brows a bit as he finished moving his other hand, surveying the vicinity. At first glance, he deduced that he was in some sort of subway, as well as was under the belief that this was some sort of lucid dream. Looking to one side, he took note that apparently he was dreaming of Ava, who was about a meter away.

Twisting his head to the other side, he let out an exasperated sigh - the Fedoramancer was here also. Slumping his shoulders, he shrugged, pondering if their actions from today were the sole reason he was thinking of them before pivoting and glancing behind him.

Smoke. Mist. Or maybe just a fog? It mattered little what it was to him, as it looked to be thick enough to the point where it appeared there were more layers to it. As curious as he was about wandering off since this was his dream, something nagged at him in the back of his mind told the boy it was a bad idea.

With nothing else left to stare at, he turned his nonchalant gaze back to the tracks. Peering over the side into the tunnels, there was a slight curiosity dancing in his head; were they waiting for something? Was something up ahead? What were they waiting for exactly?

His questions would receive answer as he blinked once again, his ears perking up to the smooth, yet soft hum of a machine. It was faint, but grew from its muted state before the lights finally cut through the hazy tunnels as a blue bullet train flew into the station.

Taking a step back, Alex shielded his eyes from the onslaught of blue that flooded his vision before moving his are to take a gander at this train. However, it seems he wasn't going to be given any time as the sounds of what sounded like girl erupted from the speakers. "The Velvet Station?"

Well, if he was going to see where this dream lead, he would follow onward, not even hesitating for a brief second, looking to his side as the duo entered in with him. What he came face to face with, well.

This was going to be fairly mild as he stared at the man with the bloodshot eyes and ungodly long nose; it was so ridiculously long that, on reflex, he lifted his arm up to smell it before putting it down. Of course, what his eyes were drawn next were to the... girl; yeah, she's definitely a girl. "She's cute."

Alex appeared mostly unfazed, not even thinking too much about the implications of a desk being in the midst of this corridor, much less how spacious it was when put into perspective. Walking down the aisle, he took a seat near the mysterious duo, not really paying too much attention to Ava or Hat-ache.

As they both introduced themselves, Alex cracked a small smile, even giggling a bit without realizing it at the girls antics. At least he had an idea of the names of these two - the nose knows is Igor and the delightful attendant is Amari. In any case, the former extended an offering to the trio, allowing them to freely speak their mind.

And this was not something he was going to pass up.

"Roight' then, pleasha' t'meet ya guv," he spoke with an over-the-top cockney accent, smiling widely at the man with the nose before turning to look at the girl, "as well as tis't meetcha luv'; cheers! He smiled before holding a fist up and clearing his throat.

"He he, couldn't help it; her introduction waaaaaaas pretty charming after all," he chuckled, spreading his arms on the seat and taking up a whole lot of space as he crossed one of his legs on his lap. He appeared at peace as he closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of a woman and piano echo in the background.

"Eeeehhhyyin any case... where are we going and why exactly are we here?"

---

^{Psychology Classroom || Tuesday Afternoon || @Letter Bee || Briefly Noted: @Savo @KenjuGuy}
After the incident in the courtyard resolved itself with the fedora-wearing boy touching ground and the group dispersing for class soon after he walked off, singing to himself, Mer had gone about her school day much like any other. Each of her classes brought a host of new concepts to be learned by time for the exams, and the pages of notes she’d accumulated by the end of the day weren’t comforting, especially considering that new readings were assigned for the next class. With the biology exam closing in, Mer had made a note to broach the topic of increasing the number of study sessions for the next week or so with Alex and Joey. Such plans depended on everyone’s schedules, and she could only hope that the others felt the meetings were as helpful as she did.

Aside from fencing practice, which happened every afternoon aside from Sunday, Tuesday afternoons were dedicated to psychology, and after her last class Mer dropped by her locker before making her way to her psychology classroom. Mr. Roscoe, her psychology teacher for a few years now, had noticed her struggling in his class and offered to let her come in after school for extra help. Of course, she’d jumped on the offer, and the meetings had indeed been helping her grade. She came in once a week on Tuesday to review the five lessons with him, ask any questions or request any clarifications. Usually, they’d just run through the concepts covered from the previous week and go over homework, but yesterday her essay grade had come out, and while she had improved, her improvement was so minimal she wondered if it could really be called improvement.

Her lack of improvement was, in part, why she felt so apprehensive about the meeting. Still, after taking a moment outside the door to try and relax, she forced herself to knock on the door and open it. Though Roscoe always left the door unlocked, Mer always found herself thinking the door might be locked, but again it opened to reveal the starkly-lit interior. On the walls were small banners with quotes from various famous psychologists and philosophers, and at the head of the room was Roscoe, standing before the whiteboard he was writing on. He was the kind of teacher who liked to keep written schedules on his boards for his students to reference, should anyone want to get a grasp of what the homework for the day might be, and he was meticulous enough to never forget to change it. It was something that Mer admired about him since it communicated a routine thoughtfulness and responsibility that she wished she could wield with the same ease.

Hearing the door open, Roscoe capped his marker and turned around. With salt and pepper hair and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses to go with his ties and sweaters, the psychology teacher appeared to be in his middle ages. His courteous manners and comfortable authority helped him appear younger in spirit, as did his penchant for humor that so amused his students.

“Good afternoon, Merja. Did biology go well?” he asked, gesturing to his desk.

“Yes,” Mer said, walking over as Roscoe pulled out her chair for her. Standing beside him always made her conscious of his height, since he stood a head taller than her despite her above-average height. After a growth spurt or two a few years ago, she’d become accustomed to being at least eye-level with most of her teachers, but being around Roscoe often made her feel like a child again, bumbling their way through life.

“Good, good,” Roscoe said, lingering behind her as she sat. Then, after helping her push her chair in, he took a seat at his own chair across from her, clasping his hands together on the desk in front of him as Mer finished retrieving her papers.

“The essay,” Mer started when she found her papers, sliding the document she’d gotten back earlier forward.

“Ah, yes, the essay.”

Pulling the paper towards him, Roscoe gave it another cursory glance, then met Mer’s eyes. “You’ve improved. Congratulations.”

Mer was speechless for a moment, suddenly distracted from her goal. “Thanks,” she said when she regathered her wits. “For everything, Mr. Roscoe. But, my improvement… It’s only three points.”

She finished with her eyes on her the desk before her, and she slid her gaze up to meet Roscoe’s eyes, which twinkled a bit under the light.

“Three points is a whole letter grade for some, Merja,” Roscoe said, a faint smile on his lips. “You ought to be prouder of yourself.”

“It’s only a B,” she mumbled, her eyes again on the desk as she struggled to find words to recover from the praise. She’d wanted to use the afternoon to find out how to improve more quickly as she’d soon have more on her plate. The semester was already half over, and finals and test prep would soon take over her time. Out of her three A-levels, psychology was the least intensive when it came to exams since biology and chemistry were both fairly demanding in that aspect, and it didn’t help that winter was also prime time for fencing competitions. Originally, she’d wanted to secure enough improvement in psychology to begin focusing on her two ‘harder’ subjects, but at the rate she was improving that course felt pretty unlikely.

“Many people would be happy with a B,” Roscoe commented again, his voice kind.

Mer floundered for a reply. While she didn’t want to seem ungrateful or pushy, she also wanted to communicate that she wanted—needed—a better grade. Getting A’s in chemistry and biology was a daunting task, and she’d wanted to mitigate her stress by guaranteeing an A in psychology. It was why she’d chosen to stick with psychology over philosophy since her practice exams had shown her scoring slightly better in psychology, but with her current grades she was regretting her choice. Though she had no way of knowing whether she’d actually have performed better in philosophy, she also knew that she’d never felt so confused, so confounded about the subject, and her heart skipped a beat when Roscoe sighed.

“Wanting to improve is an admirable trait, Merja,” he said. “You can ask. I don’t bite.”

Mer opened her mouth, then closed it. “Okay,” she said at last, her voice small.

She felt Roscoe’s eyes linger on her, the silence stretching out for a few seconds before he turned the paper around and slid it back towards her

“Right, then. Let’s see,” he said, picking up a pen. “What do you want me to go over?”

---

^{Evergreen Library || Thursday Afternoon}
With the end of the school day came Mer’s biggest chunk of free time, seeing as fencing practice generally took place late in the afternoon. Because of this, she often spent a decent amount of time in the school library after school, filling up her hours. At first she’d tried doing work in the courtyard, but there people were constantly coming and going, chatting all the way along, and she couldn’t resist looking up whenever someone passed. In the library, however, though conversations were allowed, had a more suitable crowd: many a student came to study, read, or otherwise work between the many shelves of Evergreen, and Mer fit right in.

This particular afternoon, Mer was in the middle of going over her biology readings when a familiar blonde boy approached her. It took a moment to place him as Mikhail, a classmate in her chemistry and biology classes who she’d never actually interacted properly.

“No, of course not,” she said, quickly pulling her stuff towards her to clear up the seat across from her.

As Mikhail seated himself, Mer briefly pondered why the boy would want to talk to her. She wasn’t so presumptuous as to think he would want to study with her, given that she had no desirable academic reputation. When he requested her name—which she quickly gave—she felt embarrassed, wondering whether her accent was still as apparent as she’d feared. Driven by both teasing remarks and not, she’d done her best to tame her Finnish tics, but she knew as well as anyone that they still came out here and there. She’d thought, though, that it was rare enough to avoid drawing attention by no, but clearly she’d thought wrong.

The next moment, though, she found herself wrapped up into a scene right out of a mystery novel. Having no immediate recollection of the event Mikhail was describing, Mer saw herself wondering more than once whether she should suggest Mikhail get into contact with someone more qualified than her to help him. Her hesitance, though, must have shown because Mikhail quickly produced a collection of newspaper clippings that showed images of his young self under headlines no child should have to feature in.

As she looked through the clippings, she felt worse and worse for the boy before her, both because she couldn’t imagine what his early life must have been like and because she couldn’t think of anything good to say. “Sorry for your loss” came off as shallow and ill-timed, and “Why me” was too direct for the occasion. Both, however, held sentiments she wished to convey and she settled on something both in between and softer in tone.

“That’s terrible, Mikhail. I’m sorry that happened to you, but… I don’t think I’m the person you’re looking for,” she said, fidgeting with her hands under the table. “I’m, um, not the best at either subject. Way worse than best, actually. You’d probably be much better off asking someone smarter. Like Alex, or Joey. I can ask them for you if you’d like.”

She looked at him imploringly, hoping he agreed. Personally, she felt too underqualified to help someone with either of those subjects, much less create an antidote. Though she wanted to do all she could to ease the burden on the boy’s mind, she also knew that agreeing to help him would probably hurt him more than help him in the process, and she wanted to make that clear.

---

Laying on her bed, feet in the air, yawn across her face, and head buried in her laptop, Ava was casually browsing the web. Whether fashionable or just outright expensive, she spend many afternoons looking up the latest fashion, even though none of it ever reached her wardrobe; what else was there to do while you wait for dinner to finish up?

Speaking of dinner, when Ava heard the sound of plates hitting the counter, she closed her laptop and nimble hopped out of bed. For a while now, she had been taking full advantage of Alex’s home cooking. The boy may have zero tact with words, but you couldn’t deny the quality of his dishes. Though entering the kitchen, Ava suddenly struggled to keep her balance; it was quite unusual to get dizzy so suddenly, but not wanting to think about it, she shrugged it off as getting up too fast.

After regaining some clarity, Ava surveyed the room for a trace of her gowl roommate, but before she could notice something wrong, her eyes met with the food on display. She could curiously smell it very clearly and it drew her in with the enticing smell, a mellow and calming aroma to relax your muscles. With each step closer, her body got more numb, and before she knew it, Ava had closed her eyes, only hearing a distant thud as she fell into a slumber.

…

With a sudden gasp of air, her eyes flicked wide open, the scent of fish and chips still lingering. She stood on the cold pavement of a metro station, her only companion being a lonesome flickering lamp post. As she grew more aware of her surroundings, her anxiety rose with it. Where was she? Where was this anyway? She slowly spun around her axis, peering into the foggy void that loomed in the distance, but it only affirmed her discomfort.

“Hello?” Her voice was trembling slightly, and after a few seconds of silence, the only answer was her own echo. “Okay then.” She folded her arms in preparation to boot her brain. First things first, she brought her arm to her chest, ready to pinch it. She’d never had a lucid dream before so she didn't know whether it would work but-

“Ouch.” It didn’t seem to do anything and she didn’t have time to think about other possibilities, as Ava took a surprised step back in response to a train approaching. She should be happy to see civilization, but this train felt so wrong, the announcement even felt out of place. She felt hesitant to enter, but as creepy as the train and the voice from within were, it was honestly better than the alternative.

Upon entering, her first reaction was to the other two familiar faces who simultaneously entered through different doors. being around people she knew always made her more comfortable, so as soon as she spotted them, her demeanor became a bit more relaxed; or it would’ve been if the hideous troll didn’t start talking.

looking at his ugly face send shivers down her spine, and the sheer contrast between it and the attendant didn’t help at all. She didn’t want to be mean to him though, as he seemed to be in charge here. As Alexander started talking, Ava walked towards a window hoping to see where they were going, but upon looking outside, her head immediately started spinning. The train tracks were going in all the wrong directions and Ava really didn’t want to look any longer as she returned to her seat.

Alex seemed to be in a good mood though, in fact, this Alexander seemed like a completely different person; he talked funny, smiled plenty, wasn’t afraid to be outlandish, and had total confidence...he might be the scariest thing here.

“Can you be a little more on edge? This train is too creepy…” She uncomfortably remarked as she looked at igor. “Sir-uhh, Igor? Please tell us what’s going on.”

Mikhail Chekhov

Mikhail chuckled at the thought of Alex the Snob and Peppy Ponytail being 'smart', but realized that Merja was right in that they were smarter than her. But, and the young man hated to admit it, he also selected Merja because she was malleable - He can push her in a way he could not push Alex or Joey. So his next words were, "All right, ask Alex and Joey for me. But if you fail, you're going to help me. Is that a deal?"

And you will fail, were Mikhail's thoughts, You will fail to sway them, they might even say something to make you feel guilty, and once that happens, I'll swoop in and push you into helping me.

"So go on, talk to them," Mikhail said, choking down the bile that rose into his throat as he realized he was being manipulative. He couldn't resist blurting out a correction to the phrase he used. "I mean, go to them, if you want. I mean, the snob and the ball of sunshine who has never suffered in any way in his life are so willing to help a fatherless kid." No, no, this is even more manipulative!, he thought, but continued anyway, "Go on, prove me wrong."

I dare you. Merja would recognize this from her own psychology classes as 'reverse psychology', a form of manipulation. But intellectual knowledge was not the same as emotional realization and Mikhail counted on that.

Mikhail felt the pain he was causing Merja, or would cause to Merja in the future. He felt that this was unfair and excessive to someone who was innocent of all this. But he remembered his father - Vasily Chekhov didn't deserve death as well. Thanks to the Russian Government, Mikhail would never see his smile, or hear his affectionate words, or walk with him in London's parks. There was a void in his heart, a yawning rift that can only be filled by revenge. So he pressed on, pain visible on his face and eyes, ready to be used at a moment's notice. But then he looked at Merja's eyes and backed down, turning away.

"I'm sorry," he said in a milder, more subdued tone than his previous words. "Just ask them to help - If they refuse, then it's your choice if you want to stay with me." He then offered a bargain, something to sweeten the deal and lessen his own guilt over trying to be so manipulative without sacrificing any gains he made, "I'm not taking psychology, but I can help you study it - My dad studied it plenty during his line of work. and still has several books on it, all of which are mine now." A faint smile. "That... And I know people when I really want something from them."

Advertising his own manipulation, and selling it as an advantage that can help Merja ace her Psychology class. Mikhail felt it was a masterstroke.

He regained part of his composure as he said, "So, I think Peppy Ponytail - I mean Joey - ought to be nearby. Although Alex the Snob seems to have more resources at hand." A revelation of his true feelings and thoughts towards the two, meant to show Merja that he was confiding in her, even in a roundabout way. "I'm revealing my private nicknames for those two as a sign of trust. Trust and reciprocation of trust is part of social behavior, which in turn is part of psychology."

There was every chance Mikhail might have overplayed his hand, that he might have pushed Merja away with his show of manipulation and his unsubtle implications that said manipulation was directed at her. But it was a calculated risk - Mikhail had seen enough of Merja's personality to know that she would be more likely to be impressed at how Mikhail knew the subject she studied even better than her, despite not taking formal classes in it...

---

^{Evergreen Library || Thursday Afternoon || @Letter Bee}
Mikhail’s tone surprised Mer. It varied between suave and argumentative, almost challenging before he fell silent, his eyes communicating pain and determination. Then, meeting her eyes, he abruptly changed his mind, backpedalling to apologies as Mer sat there, again not quite sure what to say. Before her was a boy asking her to help him better the world, partake in a righteous cause, but she felt unworthy of the position. While she wanted to support Mikhail's cause, wanted to help alleviate some of his pain, she also knew factually that she would probably be leading him on instead of helping him if she agreed.

His assertion that Mer should help him if neither Alex nor Joey wanted to made her feel rather awkward, especially with the aggressive tone he said it in. In his words, she was to help him if she “failed” to recruit either Alex or Joey to his cause. While she sympathized with him and wanted to help him, Mer couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that he was being so presumptuous and pushy. Couldn’t he just calm down and let her help him the best way she could?

When psychology was brought up, Mer was surprised: Did Mikhail know that she was struggling in that class? She’d rarely brought it up to anyone unless asked, and she didn’t think anyone she’d brought it up to would spread that about her. But, considering that Mikhail had likely guessed that she had enough help in her chemistry and biology classes by the way she’d thrown out Joey and Alex’s names, she figured she was probably overthinking it. Still, she knew she wasn’t going to accept his help whether or not she agreed to aid him in making the antidote. She was already taking up Roscoe’s time with that, and getting help from the source himself was much more efficient than getting help secondhand, however qualified Mikhail had shown himself to be. Besides, troubling another person with her struggles was insensitive, and Mikhail had enough on his mind.

At Mikhail’s mention of Joey and Alex being nearby, Mer straightened, eyes wide as she scanned the library around her before refocusing on Mikhail. Was she to ask them right now? In her head, she’d meant that she’d ask them the next time she saw them, but perhaps having Mikhail with her would work better if they had questions. After all, she hadn’t asked for any particulars on exactly what he was looking for.

As soon as he brought up his rather unfortunate nicknames for them, though, her gaze snapped back to him, and she wondered whether she was right to assume he was telling the truth. By default, Mer preferred to assume that others were honest people, but there were moments that made her wonder whether her trust had been misplaced. This was one such moment, but Mer reminded herself that the world hadn’t been kind to Mikhail, so she could understand why he might be angry.

“Mikhail, I really do think that you’d be better off with someone more qualified than me to help you,” Mer said, meeting the boy’s eyes again with the hope that she would get through, that he would understand why she said what she had. “I’ve never worked in a lab, never done any sort of research aside from what every one of our classmates has done in class. So, to ask me to help you design an antidote—well, if you don’t know where to start, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t either.”

She paused, then lowered her voice a little. “Also, I, um, don’t think those nicknames are a good idea. You might hurt them if they overhear you talking about them like that.”

In the evening, Hakuro had decided to head back to his room and forgo the day of hijinks that would have normally occurred. He didn't do these things all the time, not when it wasn't necessary. It was just that when the moment struck him, he was all-in. The fact is that Hakuro preferred to live his life on impulse and random choice, to let fate decide and go with the decision made that way, rather than spending excruciating hours deciding on his life. It made things so much simpler, and alot more fun. In his youth, he'd read about a particular Batman villain, an attorney whose life had been half-dominated by a dark personality, and that in the course of things...that personality had been brought out in equal shares to his own. This was Two-Face, Harvey Dent, the man who split in half. Harvey obsessively made decisions by the flip of a coin. And while that shaped the kind of person he was darkly, Hakuro flipped a coin to make things go quicker and to throw in that random charm.

He hadn't bothered doing that with the tree, though. That was all the tree's fault for wanting to be climbed.

.....

Okay, not really, but you get the idea.

Because he hadn't had much sleep today, his energy had actually been on a budget. He'd climbed, and then he'd run off for class to conserve energy for only his brain...until he had Phys Ed, gym class. That was a bit more taxing, and Hakuro was confident in saying that he'd used up about 90% of his burnable energy for the day, which meant he wasn't going to be much for antics today anyway. Thus, he came to his room, closed the door, and hung the coat over his swivel chair at his personal desk. His hat, he placed upon the dresser, shortly before ruffling his own hair and stretching. Being Hatto-san was tiring work, and speaking of which... He sat down before the computer and got on the Hatto Site. He was looking things over, smiling and snerking at the comments, even the negative ones. He started to feel tired - more-so than when he'd walked in - as he was asking the question, 'Why are people so uppity about me being up this tree?', posting his pictures OF said tree and all the pictures he'd taken. He'd gotten pics of the campus, some of the people, that girl on the motorcycle, a random bird...

Wow, he was REALLY-

THUD!

Ow.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

He blinked and...had his hand to his forehead, then it dropped to his sides as he looked around. Hakuro was at a train station, back in hat and coat, surrounded by fog. Well, that wasn't unusual. He was often doing that. Thing is, though...he couldn't remember where he was going. That was something he would definitely remember. Was he off to visit a friend? Move to a new place? Buy some groceries? Meet a stalker? His mind was all fuzzy on that, and this place seemed to eerily desolate. Nobody was around...right?

"Hello!"

Hello...lo...

Just echoes. Hmmm.

"Hey!"

Hey...!

Now, he smirked.

"WWWIIIINSSSTOOONNN!!!"

Couldn't resist, although...the answer was ironically a train. He wasn't on the tracks, so there was no worry to be had there, however the train itself was a bit strange... Blue train, looking like it really didn't belong. The doors opened, and a voice made an announcement that seemed fitting with the English surroundings he'd been getting use to. Alright, this sounded fun... He stepped inside. No sooner had he done so than he noticed two of the people he saw in the morning today, Alex and Ava.

"Oh, hi. Fancy meeting you here."

He didn't really have Alexander's attention. HIS was on what was presuumably the announcer, as the voice had been a youthful one, and there was a youth here whom...Hakuro couldn't really tell if it were male or female. Hmmm. Out of sheer wit, he meant to draw out his coin and flip it for random decision on that matter. He couldn't find it. What...? Aw man, did he lose it? It was just a quarter from the US, but he'd had it since he was a kid from one of the guests at the resort. He'd look for it later. Had to be somewhere...

Down to business, though... This Igor fella. What a nose! Why? How? He did not explain. What he DID say was that this Velvet Train leaving the Velvet Station was called the Velvet Room, and that they were safe. Good to know. So, the man had also introduced themselves and seemingly had a bit of trouble with the rebellious Amari. Furthermore, when Igor invited them to say whatever was on their mind, Alex surprisingly answered in a heavy accent to the Attendant first. This made Amari laugh, as well as Hakuro, and go "It's not really proper, though. Pip, pip!" before Alex continued with the serious questions, as well as Ava remarking on the train itself and also asking her own question.

As for Hakuro...he felt the train moving and...much like how outside it seemed like the tracks were going at odd angles...it felt almost like the train itself was traveling at those angles...yet nothing and nobody was falling over.

"This isn't a normal train, is it?"

Igor smiled calmly and said...

"This place...is not reality as you know it. At this moment, you are not really here, but asleep in your own rooms. The Velvet Room is a place that exists between dreams and reality, neither fact nor fiction. This train travels upon the rails of human consciousness, in a world where the mind may hold great power, if you know how to reach it. You have come here, because you are undergoing a journey, one quite unlike any that you have ever taken."

"What, even me? I've been around..."

He nodded.

"Indeed. It is one that only you and those who follow you may take, and I must warn you...that while this place is your haven, the world outside of the Velvet Room is full of danger and mystery. You must arm yourselves against it, in mind and in body. You will know what to do, however. Of that, I am sure."

"You still haven't answered his question, though. Why us? Why are WE here? What is this journey?"

For a moment, it seemed as though Igor might seem a bit grim. His voice did not change, but the tone of his everything else did.

"Those who can traverse this world number in the many, right now, as well as those who can affect it with their subconscious and not even be aware of it. This is not just a world alternate to your own. It IS your own, in spirit. It is connected. Things are happening now, the dice of chance are rolling. They that come here are responsible for their actions, for good or for ill, but they can affect the lives of many others. However, only they can determine if it is right or wrong. It all comes down to this: Purpose. Why are we here? What drives us forwards? Why do we do what we do? What is right or wrong when we do it? You must keep these thoughts in mind when you finally cross the barrier into this world of your own free will."

He sat back, now.

"Only you can decide upon the outcome, what happens here. Only you can determine if it was right or wrong, or if the grand design was too complex. You may choose to bow out, and you are free to do so. No one would blame you. But whatever comes of that decision, to move forward or to pull back, is entirely yours...and you must live with that."

Ahhh...so that's why his coin was missing. This was too important to decide on a whim.

---

---

Thursday, right? Nothing really happened on a Thursday. Lessons were low in numbers, and Laurence's official numbers of trustworthy friends were limited entirely. What good was it to stumble through the day without much of a plan? Unfortunately, like was never so easy nor enjoyable. He'd escaped, physically at least, from the torments of his family only to be weighed down by the pressure of their agonising aftertaste. It was a bitter one too, one that corroded his taste buds and scorched his throat like acid in a cup. When he lunged awake that night, he wandered over to the cupboard of his dormitory's shower room and doused his sorrows with three separate pills, small and colourless ones to be specific. He never liked taking them. Sometimes they made him forget, whilst other times he felt just as bad for their purpose. But he couldn't let anyone know, because there was no one to let into his private life. All it included was reading, reading, working, talking to a few people and on the worst occasions slipping into a fit of tears in the privacy of his own abode. And that morning, that Thursday morning, had been yet another few hours of turmoil, where he questioned the legitimacy of his own future, his own purpose, his inevitable return to those who claimed ownership over him. To them, he was a tool to success, to further riches and beyond. Sometimes, on mornings like those, Laurence would begin to believe them.

And yet, to everyone else, nothing had changed or nothing was wrong. He smiled, said his morning graces and chirped around with his books, attentively paying homage to his tutoring and learning as well as studying as hard as he could. Hours trickled by like they were fluids trapped inside the circular glass casings of the clocks. A flow of time edged on, pressuring his mind into a numbed state of confusion, almost entirely forgetting of his mini-escapade that very morning. Laurence wanted to remain happy. It was a feeling that didn't come by often, nor did it stay for long sometimes. And so, he continued to smile. No one would bat an eye, and he'd remain happy for such reasons. That day, he wandered around school, despite only having two morning lessons to deal with. After double-periods of Philosophy, once again covering the same topics of epistemology and gettier-style problems, he was left to his own devices. A quick lunch, a fancy wander around and a gander into the local city that was a walk's away. Before the school day was even over, he'd made it back to school without too much interference with his studies, progression through education and day entirely.

The aroma of the autumn afternoon soothed his mind as he crossed the near-empty corridors of Evergreen. When things remained quiet, he'd find the temptation to creatively talk aloud to himself, reciting poetry from memory, remembering quotes from stories he'd written or notate the same analogies previously discovered in the works of his literary idols. Truth be told, his solitary personality was entirely built out of novelisation, literacy and poetry together. He'd dabbled his mind into screenplay, theatrical production writing and even journalism on the internet and still found the same excitement as before.

Quietly, his feet shuffled throughout the hallways, twisting and turning around different corners. Suddenly he stopped, and his body automatically turned towards one of the nearby windows with ease.



Laurence wasn't much of a dreamer nor was he an optimist when his thoughts took the better part of him. Notes of familiar melancholy took to his brain and started to gnaw gently on its strands of memory. He winced. Quietly, the world around him fell silent. All he heard were the faint echoed voices of his past screaming at him, the sounds of beatings and physical strikes against his rebelliousness being enacted as punishment. Laurence wasn't...he didn't know how to react. These memories barely came about during the day and were mostly morning scares, but now he felt a tremendous change lunge from within him. It wasn't a positive change...It was one that set him back. He felt the sudden shift rearwards catch him off guard. Was he devolving, spacing and flickering out into a nervous disaster? Times were changing, and yet the past haunted his deepest thoughts regrettably. Was he able to escape? Those who scared and punished him...were they truly out of his life? Their legacy seemed to deny such a possibility.

Shaking his head further, he wiped his eyes, feeling the soothing softness of a tear that had formed onto his cheek. Quickly, he hid it without second thought, drying his face and trying his best to liven up his glistening eyes. For a while, Laurence was breathing heavily, motioning his head to go back to the go-lucky transition he wished he could retain all the time. A fake smile plastered itself onto his face. With a shyness in his confidence, he turned and walked into the nearest door he could find, suddenly sending him into the Library. It was like heaven for him, with all those books, but for now he just needed something more loud than a book to take his mind off of his troubles.

Almost instantly, he saw two individuals talking amongst themselves. For a while, he stood, staring behind a small shelf of books precariously. They had a discussion. Two foreigners, it seemed. One with a slight Russian wisp to his voice and another with that of a near-Scandinavian/Finnish tone. For a moment, the situation brought a small smile to his face.

"History repeats itself, dear Simo Häyhä." Chuckling at his own lame joke that'd only probably get him a few hundred upvotes on online forums, he quietly made his way over and pulled out a book, sitting as close to them as he could before engaging in light-conversation. "Good afternoon, you two! Always nice to see faces I've never seen here before. Hope you don't mind my intrusion, but I'm intrigued by the discussion." Such a weird thing to ask, even though in reality he just needed someone to talk to, to take away the pains of his memories.

---

Confidants:: Amari, Ava (@addamas), Hakuro, Igor (@FalloutJack)
Whereabouts:: Velvet Room
Day:: Tuesday Evening

---

Alex didn't even bother to suppress a giggle, much less a smile and raising a thumbs up with Amari's silly impression. He nodded along as he rolled his leg, looking over to Ava as she commented on his own behavior and shrugged, smirking and winking at her. "Seriously? How is this creepy in the slightest," he mused, throwing his arms in the air and shaking his head before waggling his finger at the duo.

"Sure, he looks pretty weird, but he gives cool and mysterious vibes, and makes me think of a tengu," his finger moved over to Amari, focusing down on her, "and her appearance is like her personality - it's pree' cute! Buuuuut, I digress" Chuckling and lying back into his seat, he remained silent as Hat Boy took the center stage, asking about this train as well.

He kept his ears glued to Igor as he began his explanation, rolling his head to take a glance outside of the train. This did actually give him some pause as he raised an eyebrow, his own beaming smile faltering for a second. Weren't there supposed to be tunnels? Hell, why were there tracks leading everywhere else haphazardly?

Honestly, this was probably the weirdest thing about this dream to him. Besides those cards on the table

Actually, what was the deal with those? Alex rolled his head back to look at the mysterious conductor of this whole train, if he even was the conductor, soaking up all the information he could recall. "Of course he's using Jungian concepts here; picked all this up from Mr. Roscoe."

There was a twinkle in his eye as he nodded, as if he was listening to the beat of a song. Of course, as the words continued to flow, it circled around back to his original question, thanks to The Hat commenting on the lack of answered to Alex's own questions. "Thanks bud," he murmured, nodding at what the boy said before giving Igor his complete attention.

It didn't take but a minute to explain the rest of these concepts, something he believed were fairly simple, but the way Ava was just looking with a thousand-yard stare was telling him otherwise. "Ava, I can put it into simpler terms for ya." Raising a fist to his mouth and clearing his throat, he ricocheted off the seat, standing upright as he looked at the girl. This would be a good way to review, all while having fun with these concepts.

"Bayyyyyysically he's talking about the collective unconscious, something shared by all humans. From what I can infer, we are currently on what is the physical manifestation of the unconscious, these railroad tracks, at least, that's what I think. In any case, the three of us are taking some sort of journey through the collective unconscious I'm guessing, and that it'll be dangerous. However, for every dark, there must be light and the Velvet Room functions as our light, a place to keep us safe from the danger. And, to act as the cherry on top, we are simultaneously the conductors and passengers of this journey to find purpose."

Stretching one arm upwards, while crossing the other behind him, he sucked in a huge amount of air before sighing and fanning himself off in a dramatic fashion. "Well, that was a somewhat decent review, I suppose." Once he was finished, he pivoted to face Igor and Amari, and without a second thought-

"With that said, Igor," Alex heartily announced as he snapped his finger, pointing a finger gun at Mr. Long Nose, "how do we exactly start this journey? Oh, and what's up with those cards?"

---

Confidants:: Laurence (@LetMeDoStuff), Merja (@Typical), Mikhail (@Letter Bee)
Whereabouts:: Evergreen Library
Day:: Thursday Afternoon

---

"There's nothing to be intrigued by," Alex announced to the trio with a scowl that continued to slowly darken as he strode towards the trio. It was difficult to tell, but whenever he gazed over the three, his own visage seemed to soften just a tinge; for Mikhail, not so much, as his face would harden at the sight of this kid.

"And calling it a 'discussion is giving too much credit to this kid," he spat venom as much as he looked at Mikhail. Sucking in a deep breath of air and breathing out, Alex was completely red in the face, and trying to cool down had done nothing to quash the sheer resentment he felt right now. Lifting a bag in one hand and tossing it over to the side while digging his nails into his palms, Alex bit his lip before looking at his friend.

"Merja," his voice quivered, every bone in his body wanting to explode on that piece of trash she was chatting with, held back only by sheer willpower as he coolly continued. "I... don't know why you're dating this kid, none of my business anyways," he grumbled in a disappointed manner, "but two things are for certain." He sighed, eyeing daggers at the other kid before clearing his throat and leaning in-between the chairs.

"For one, I don't give two shits about his nicknames," he held up a finger, eyes shifting between the two, "but more importantly..." That finger he held up came down to point at Mikhail before he shook it, like a mother scolding a child.

"This... scumbag is straight up manipulating you," it took a lot of restraint just to not shout it out, saying it mostly through his teeth before pausing for a moment to let that sink in between the lot of them.

While this was going on, Alex proceeded to push himself back and crossing his arms. Taking a slight step back, he looked over at the hand he dug his nails into, noting that it was on the brink of bleeding before turning back to observe their reactions. He could only pray that Merja came to a similar conclusion and didn't continue to pity this kid.

That pity was nothing but a farce to him, after all.

Mikhail Chekhov

Mikhail blinked at that. He was likely to hurt the Snob and Peppy Ponytail? It was more likely they'd punch him in the face if they overhear. But nevertheless, apologies were in order. "I'm sorry, Merja. I was assuming that -"

And then someone entirely unknown interrupted. Frowning, trying to lessen his rudeness for Merja's sake, Mikhail said, "Who are you?" to Laurence. Then upon realizing his subject matter of interest, he introduced himself and offered a hand to shake, "Mikhail Chekhov. Son of Vasily Chekhov, victim of poisoning. Glad to meet a fellow Simo Hayha fan."

A brief frown, "Now, what do you have to offer for this enterprise?" You some rich kid or someone with talent? Were Mikhail's thoughts. "Because, well, it's not like I can afford to reject any help right now." Not at this point, anyway.

Then of all the rotten luck, Alex decided to intrude in, and personally insult Milkhail deeper than anyone besides his father's murderer had done so. Gritting his teeth, the boy said, "How chivalrous, assuming that I 'manipulate' - I'm making airquotes - people for filthy motives like one's own libido. Alex, let me make this clear: I am not interested in romance or dating or anything of that nature right now."

He dared grin at Alex before saying, "Just so you know, I had a much nobler cause in mind when I approached Merja - I needed someone who can purchase lab rats and laboratory supplies for me, as well as someone whom the adults will take more seriously as she's eighteen."

Puffing out his chest, Mikhail continued, "I intend to avenge the [Insert Nearby District of London Here] poisoning. You know, the one in which my father died? I will do what the best doctors and 'experts' in Great Britain have failed to do and decipher the chemical code of the poison that shattered my family with only my brain and some helpers. Then I will make an antidote, prevent what happened to my father from happing to others, and gain the widespread... Notoriety I need to get a platform for curbing a certain Great Power's meddling in world affairs."

He glared at the other young man. "Don't measure me with your tiny worldview. Not everyone lacks ambiton like you."

@Savo@LetMeDoStuff@Typical@FalloutJack

Romaní Bogart

_{Strength Blares When the Candles Fade
theme
@Typical@Savo@LetMeDoStuff@Letter Bee}

---

Things lately have been quiet, calm to be exact. Something he didn't really seem to oblivious of. The silence of every day encompassed the surrounding area with a calming grace to it. Nothing seemed purposeful, yet everything seemed to have reasoning. Like a riverbed, it flowed to wherever the destination lead. Everyone followed their schedules, their time wasted on the menial task of everyday. Romaní found himself in such a state too. His hands cozy'd on his pockets, his assignments were mostly done, so right now he had some time to merely reflect and do something. But-- He didn't really have that many friends to actually spend time with. His sights shifted, left. Towards that direction was a small compilation of buildings. Perhaps that was the way towards the collage, seems like it since there were a few more colorful faces among them. Most were chatting or having their lunches together, other glued to their phones, while the rest were doing both. Some were yelling at the top of their lungs, holding their phones sideways while simultaneously barking some commands for something. Romaní could only expect that this was a video game of some kind... Or he was insane.

To the right, much of the same. There were a few couples, however. Held by their hands, finger intertwined much like the roots of a tree. Grasping each other while walking towards the distance. Some rested under the tree's shade, book in hand taking notes in both a laptop and some cliff notes. And finally a couple of kid's practicing their instruments in a lone corner, probably in attempts to not bother anyone as much. Overall, the day seemed to be... boring as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary, so a stroll through the library seemed to be in order, mainly due to negligence, Romaní had allowed himself a slight slumber during his studies in philosophy class. The previous nights had weight on his heavily, and a few night he leisurely strayed across a few interesting comic books and video games he wanted to delve into. Studies were his priority of course, but the stress of everyday seemed to linger as of recent and therefore he needed some reassurance of peace.

And so, he decided to test his luck, flip a metaphorical coin in hopes he met someone that could aid him in that spectrum. Luckily, after a few moments he witnessed a somewhat familiar face. Laurance Newman, they hadn't have much interaction in the past, considering since he also was either intensely immersed in his literature, or socializing with strangers. And so, he decided to approach, tapping Laurance's shoulder Romaní greeted the tall male, smile on his face of course. Hands coursing through his slicked back hair, a measly attempt to settle his nerves, however exposing his scar ever so "Hey, Laurance? Yeah, I don't really know if you remember me. It's Romaní from Philosophy."A smile crossed his lips, as he continued. "I was just wondering if you could lend me your notes from class. I kind of dozed off in the middle and forgot to write some de--" Turning to the near distance, there stood three others. A girl, eyes of luminescent sapphire and fair of skin. Hair around shoulder width hued in golden locks. Eyes depicted a bit of confusion among them, Romaní trailed them to two other students. One of them Jet black hair, and face as stern as the morning sun is bright.

Romaní didn't know if it was a sense of authority he sensed, or perhaps that of imposing malice. His sights were as commanding as hit posture, and the other student didn't fall behind. Another blond, however this one seemed much smaller in comparison. However, if both were to be represented into animals, the wolf and the lion were baring their fangs to one another. Romaní suddenly cursed his timing, and a cold sweat began to drop from his temple, a forced smile crossed his lips before he took a step back and asked rather nervously "Did I just arrive at a bad time?"

---

---

As soon as Laurence heard the uproar of statements, a wave of confusion overran his system like never before. Within seconds his face showed nothing but awe-struck. There were many red-flags being raised. Mikhail was the first to spout randomised stuff. Poison? Antidote? Was he asking a regular student within Evergreen Grammar School, in London nonetheless, to help with...that? This was the most bizarre set of events that humanity had yet to come across. Laurence was a prime pilgrim, expediting such strange manifestations of hilarity and mystery like his forefathers before. And yet, he still found no real understanding. His mind pondered on such rich conversations without as much of a clue where it was going, what was next or what curve ball would swing towards them. For a second, his face remained blank. How could he react to such a strange conversation? He turned, looking away for a moment as a newcomer arrived to the stage. Alex, the apparent dense-of-all-that-was-dense, so the word went around. Laurence had no personal quarrel with him nor believed that he was dense, but it wasn't exactly something he'd not keep in mind. Rumours did sometimes hold some truths, as his novels had actually shown him. Spite and sharp tongues were thrown across the table almost immediately. A coarse agenda like no other had been located from within Alex's words. Manipulation? Was there some form of bad blood that was yet to be discovered, or was Alex simply trying to face the problem head on? Every second bore a hundred more questions, ones that refused to answer themselves in due time.

Soon after, introductions were set loose. Mikhail commented on his history joke, proclaiming that he was a fan too. Well, for that to be the case Laurence himself would've had to be a fan. Even more irony. The one who's nation got its rear-end handed to against a man with white pyjamas on was rather an interesting development indeed. For a while, Laurence began to feel like a detective or investigator of the sorts, coming to his own conclusions on the wild chase of answers he so desired. Momentarily Laurence stood back, taking a seat yet again to conjure up answers of his own. Damn, Mikhail didn't have ambitions...he was insane, probably? Could it be, or was he just that confident in some larger-than-life plan he'd manifested himself? Laurence was starstruck at the possibilities, yet found no clear answer as more spite was shot from across the table. Eyes started to peel towards the group on the table. Laurence took his reading glasses out from beneath his case and propped them onto the tip of his nose, sighing heavily as he did so. Someone had to lay dowm some order, and at this point there was no solving it. Merja was the Chamberlain, appeasing either sides, whilst Tsar Nicholas on one end ranted on world reforms and the school's fellow chad kept his spirits high. How tiring, one might think. Laurence definitely thought so. Sometimes, it took a bit of logic, realism and tough love to sort something out, and now was that time. For Laurence, it was time to enter into his creative fantasy.

All around him, he could feel the lights dim, as the spotlight of a lamp shone down onto the table, showering all three confidants in its godly ray. Noir; the world had fallen into a grim black and white grey-scale, taunting the realities of what actually was going on outside of Laurence's mind. Truth be told, nothing had changed, Laurence was just a bit too caught in his playful creativity once more to not amplify the situation. If the school had no uniform policy, a long, drab trench coat and a loosely brimmed had would shroud his openness and create a more daring atmosphere. Instead though, it was simply a case of talking to three students like a normal person: oh but what fun Laurence could have with exaggerating the situation within his mind. After all, it could be the great breakthrough he needed for a novel idea.

"If I recall, a library is a place of silent studies and reading, so I'll have to interrupt your little tumble here!" A strong joy encompassed Laurence as he beamed brightly, knowing full well that kindness was his best method of catching ones attention. "To begin with, Alex, would you please refrain from insults just for the time being. I won't let anyone hold back afterwards, I just want to try and make sense of all of this strangeness."

Merja simply sat where she was, a true Finnish victim of all that was to come. She sounded puzzled, timid from the argument at least. Who wouldn't be? Two weird titans were trying to proclaim their strange ideologies over one another. In fact, Laurence himself was frightful of their strange engagement more than anyone else. Not to mention, the peeling eyes of many students gawping towards them made him feel uncomfortable and afraid of any escalation. The last thing he needed was to be brought into the troubling end of this experience, so he tried to remain a neutral peacekeeper in it all. Finally, he turned to Mikhail. There was a lot to question, and even more to debate, so he tried to keep his words brief and within the realms of understanding.

"Okay, Mikhail is it? Uhm...I just want to like...I don't know where to start, I'll be honest. It's like talking to a protagonist of some sort of weird book on my shelf, y'know the unbelievable ones. Anyway..." On paper, such phrases would've sounded harsh and uncalled for, yet Laurence meant it seemingly in a rambling sense. There was no offence trying to be taken, nor did he want to attack or worsen anything. Laurence's understanding of debates was unclear and rather fruitless, but he still wanted to make sure everyone got along where they could. Those were the things that truly made him happy: unity. "If you really are so concerned about this situation, to which professionally trained doctors, police investigators, governmental figures and even forensics could not deter, why do you think students from an London grammar school would have any worth in the case? Shouldn't you be conducting some sort of collaboration with the police, or like...I dunno...working as a witness? Also, I hate to be the realist here, but doesn't it seem a bit weird to you that one Russian transfer student, I think, is trying to take on the Kremlin? I mean...I don't think anyone here is thinking much through."

Before he could continue, a familiar voice flanked him and took him off guard. Romani, a sudden student with relaxing demeanour, approached him to quiz him on the recent lessons of Philosophy. Of course, dozing off in philosophy was a very easy thing to do. Students who were even enjoying the subject couldn't help but feel a long dread as the time slowly ticked by. It was one of those subjects that would last forever and ever. Even though his name wasn't really close to the reference, he held off the temptation to ask him to go bowling with him in some pan-slavic accent.

Laurence nodded, looking into his bag and kindly bringing out his notes and gently placing them in Romani's hands. He smiled brightly as he did so, nodding with a great succession of understanding the struggles of sleeping during the length horrors of the philosophy class. It was anyone's guess why Mr Sharp, the teacher, hadn't even picked up on the sleeplessness of his students.

"I've got a spare copy at home, but copy as much as you want! It's under the title "Gettier Problem" if you wanna catch up on what we did last lesson. Make sure to bring it back tomorrow! And as for this group..." He turned back to Merja, knowing full well she was caught within the antagonising threats of both aggressive parties. "It might be healthy for you to disperse, especially you...Merja, was it? It was good to meet you, though I think we both wish it would be under better circumstances."

With a faint chuckle, and a hopeful deliverance of his take on Mikhail's rather outlandish set of ambitions in life, he began to make his way out of the library. It was as if an aura of sunlight shone around him as he walked in strange grace and happiness, finding the conversation he just had an uplifting experience. He hoped that someday they'd come back and talk to him, making his year worth going through. Either way, all he had to do was go home, cook dinner and sleep until the Friday. After all, Friday had him booked for a meeting with the Vice Principle, Mr Ashcroft.

---

Perhaps fortunately, the tree climber decided to come down by himself. However his slide down the tree before he decided to move to class was a little too dare-devilish for Phillip to feel comfortable with. His heart nearly sank as the boy went down the tree in seconds, half-wondering where the hell did he get those tools to begin with. It totally didn't look like something coming out of a student's inventory, and frankly Phillip didn't know why you even require such a thing anyway. It just seemed out of the blue and, in his humble opinion, insane. But things were like that now. He had a safe touchdown, everybody didn't have any further crazy ideas and they all dispersed, leaving Phillip having to explain to the security that everything had worked itself out already and having to apologize for the stupid commotion. So much for a visit back to his old school. In essence, something did happen, but the sheer ridiculousness of it just made this visit seemed cheap. Oh well, seemed like it is back to the dorm then.

---

Time: Thursday
Location: Evergreen Library

---

It seemed a little unfair that he booked the entire silent study room just for himself, but they didn't seem like in high demands. It seemed too much of a waste to Phillip, as he could have way more productive time with a couple of history and sociology book than a couple of quarreling groups in a project that would almost certainly end up with some students gluing themselves to their phone or laptop while the others do the work themselves. While these books or at least some of its content were and should already be taught back in Evergreen, but his unusual curriculum had partly derived him of it, combined with the fact that he, or the people around him, were already dead set on making natural science his forte, everything else seemed like just a horse ride in the flower garden. Now that he revisited all these stuffs, it seemed so interesting and resonant. Phillip wanted to look more in it. Perhaps this might be his true interest, one that he could live his life with.

He was halfway in with it though, before something forcefully dragged his attention out of this quiet, empty space time surrounding him and those vast reservoir of human knowledge. A conversation he could hear somewhat vividly. A pretty loud greeting, and something about Simo Hayha. Normally Phillip wouldn't care their obnoxiousness that they are in the library not a cafe or a social gathering, but the reply to the greeting was attention-grabbing. Not minding the fact that introducing your background as some sort of tragic hero was cliche and unnatural as a talking animal, the mentioning of the incident somewhat brought his mind into work. The Chekhov incident? He remembered hearing about that a couple of times on the news. An interesting and surprising fact that one of the Evergreen was related, but then again, coincidences are more common than one thinks. He did want to hear more about the incident from his side...but apparently, this guy seemed like a total asshole, and sounded pretty delusional from the dialogue that he spoke. Did he really think a lone high school student could single-handedly topple the entire political climate of this world? The whole lone genius used in movies are wayyy overdone that it is starting to have bad effects. Remember the dude who discredited the entire scientific world in a comment section on social media and proceeded to win the Nobel Prize? No? Then perhaps people should appreciate the collaborative and peer review process in science. And same could be said with anything and everything else. The p-value to this kid managing to do this would probably be close to zero, five decimals followed by a one.

Before he knew it, Phillip snapped out of the attention filter. They didn't seem like someone to learn more from. His attention weren't necessary, but their distraction required some reminder. This is a library after all.

Phillip promptly stood up, his book still left opened on the desk, and walked over to the door, looking at a couple of people standing near a bookshelf. They were apparently the people in question.

"Excuse me." Phillip said, trying to suppress his annoyance. "If you guys are playing the 'noble hero' here, then please go somewhere else. This is a library."
@Letter Bee@Savo@Typical

Mikhail Chekhov

"I could, but I don't trust them -" was Mikhail's answer to Laurence's words about collaborating with the police and forensics before the literature student just departed, "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Note that the exclamation part was not too loud, more of a sudden halt in the sentence than a shout. Mikhail respected libraries, after all. Speaking of respecting libraries, it seemed the heavens had opened up and given Mikhail a new opportunity in the form of Philip Leonheart, an actual a fellow genius. Putting on his best game-winning smile, Mikhail ignored Philip's tone and words and instead tried for charm.

"Philip Leonheart, just the man I wanted to see!" Mikhail said. "Despite your skepticism, as well as the fact that my large ambitions are high enough to warrant a judgement of 'insanity', there are things here that warrant an intellectual titan like you." A smile. "I should have known someone who had gotten the silver medal at the International Physics Olympiad would gravitate to this subject, despite their already-expressed skepticism."

Mikhail paused. "As I said, I don't trust the Police, forensic scientists, or most adult authority figures in general. They failed my father and they will fail me. But we are of a different caliber, although I will admit that you are my better."

A calculated admission before Mikhail looked at Philip's face and realized he was probably unmoved by the subtle attempt at flattery. Sighing, he said, "Okay, perhaps what I said earlier doesn't work. That went too far even for me. But I do need your help, Philip Leonheart. You are one of the people I am looking for and much as I hate to admit it, one of the few with the intellectual chops to make a serious try at what I want. I know in my heart that I am not as capable as I puff myself out to be, but the fact remains: I want to decipher the chemical code for the toxin that killed my father. That much is true. Same for me mistrusting the failures in the police force - That's also true."

He knew the next admission might slightly hurt Merja, but it might also resolve a few of her worries. "In fact, had I known you'd be here, I would have talked to you first. I know you're a physicist and an engineer and not a chemist, but someone who can win the Physics Olympiad is more useful than a son of a fashion designer plus lawyer."

Yes, he couldn't help but insert another barb towards Alex there, "So please help me, Mr. Leonheart."

Or I'll continue on anyway and blunder. Or I'll continue manipulating people. I can do a lot of damage, you know. But somehow, Mikhail didn't say those words. Instead, he hoped that his rare show of honesty was recognized for what it was - A boy reaching out for help.

Because if it wasn't, then all the more reason to keep manipulating and scheming and destroying himself.

@Savo@LetMeDoStuff@Typical@FalloutJack@Conscripts

---

^{Evergreen Library || Thursday Afternoon || @Letter Bee@Savo@LetMeDoStuff@Sync@Conscripts}
Just as Mikhail started apologizing, a brown-blonde boy arrived, Mer recognizing him by his height and hair. If she remembered correctly, his name was Laurence, and they’d shared a philosophy class last year. However, since she’d chosen psychology over philosophy, they didn't share any classes this year, so she was surprised to see him now despite having never talked to him. While she didn’t understand the cryptic phrase he’d led with, she understood the rest, and she looked to check if Mikhail was okay with Laurence listening along. It was his past and pursuit, after all, and Mer was relieved when he responded by introducing himself. If more people got roped into the conversation, perhaps Mikhail would feel less of a need to ask for help from her specifically. After all, she’d given all the reasons she could, and at this point she was left with hoping he saw the sense in her words.

Soon enough, though, another person announced their arrival, and Mer was unhappily surprised to find that she recognized him. Alex—a familiar face, and an expected one, given that their biology study group was slated to meet up in a bit. He was, unfortunately, also one of the two people Mikhail had given nicknames to, and Mer hoped he hadn’t overheard. As he continued, however, it became clear that he had, and her eyes widened when he stated that he didn’t know why she was dating Mikhail. Glancing at Mikhail, then back at Alex, Mer found herself unable to find words to clear the situation up, but when Alex continued, proving that he had indeed overheard the nicknames, she cringed, deciding it’d be better to stay silent until he finished.

When Alex accused Mikhail of manipulating her, and she again did a double-take to Mikhail. The encounter had felt a little forced at times, but manipulation? That was a harsh word, and Mikhail had cited his reasons. For now, Mer wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, and an opinion from Alex, who’d misunderstood portions of the conversation, didn’t seem like something she should take to heart.

His choice of words for Mikhail also made her wince, and it dawned on her that perhaps Alex was the worst person to overhear all this. Her fears were confirmed when Mikhail spoke again, his language also taking a turn for the worse. While she was relieved to hear him clear up the dating situation, explaining the real sequence of events for everyone to hear, she was a bit stunned to hear the scope of his plan. Since when was she to purchase lab rats, and if Britain’s best doctors and scientists had failed to make an antidote, why did he expect her to do what they couldn’t?

Mikhail’s last jibe at Alex also made her wince, but Mer was distracted by Laurence producing a pair of glasses. Putting them on, he addressed the table in a way that stunned her. Was he playing a part? Where was the hidden camera?

Still, she was glad that he took control of the conversation, doing his best to diffuse the tension and clear the air. Alex did need to be called out, as did Mikhail, and though Laurence’s choice of words for Mikhail was rather unkind, Mer appreciated the sentiment. Then, as he tied it all off with thoughts Mer could agree with, Mer’s attention was called again to someone arriving, identifying himself as Romani from Laurence’s philosophy class. Feeling bad for him as he realized his mistake midway through, Mer watched as Laurence addressed him, then turned to address her, much to her surprise.

“Yep, nice to meet you!” she said, her voice pitching oddly when multiple sets of eyes turned to her. Given that she wasn’t about speak despite being spoken to multiple times during the past ten minutes, she realized that perhaps calling attention to herself wasn’t the best idea, but thankfully the arrival of yet another person distracted everyone from that. This time, it was a boy in a suit and tie rather than a school uniform, suggesting that he was probably a St. Paul’s student. Like any reasonable person, he’d come to inform the group that they were beginning to become a public nuisance, and Mer was horrified to note that she was part of that group.

Surprisingly—or not—it was Mikhail that jumped on the newcomer, recognizing the boy as Philip and piling on praise to him. By the way Mikhail addressed him before admitting his own attempts at flattery, Mer found herself glancing at Alex, reconsidering his words. Okay, so perhaps Mikhail had resorted to some manipulation, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d had a hard life. It showed the lengths he as willing to go to fulfill his mission, however hopeless it might be, and even if she couldn’t respect or understand his means and motives, Mer admired his persistence. More importantly, though, Mikhail’s words indicated that Philip was a much better candidate than her to help, and she immediately focused on him, hoping to help Mikhail’s case.

While his final jab at Alex didn’t help his cause since Laurence had already mitigated the situation earlier, Mer looked past it to Philip, who seemed like a person of reason. Perhaps he would agree with her, and perhaps he wouldn’t. Either way, she felt that she should try.

“Um, Philip, was it? I’m Merja, or Mer. Mikhail approached me first about making the antidote, and while it does sound impossible, I think you’re the most fit out of any of us to try. I’m not sure whether using lab rats would be considered animal abuse,” she said, giving Mikhail a meaningful look before turning back to Philip, “but I think Mikhail’s cause is a good one. So, please, could you consider helping him?”

For his part, Hakuro had to agree that none of this was really creepy, as Ava had asserted. No, as much as the train was weird and the hosts were kind of hard to place, he did not feel threatened at all. This place was more-or-less relaxing, and the company entertaining. The only thing that he wasn't sure about...was whether Amari was female or not. Alex seemed to think so, and the Attendant did absolutely nothing to dissuade him. But then...there was no confirmation at any point, either. It was all very ambiguous, like the state of the exterior of the train. He'd looked out the window and thought he saw Big Ben out there, and that it was rotating...only the train was also turning, so were they going around it, or was it moving on its own? It's like when you stare at a lake and wonder if the opposition shoreline is actually mmoving while the lake is actually still. Stuff like that, optical illusions.

What this all came down to, as Alex explained to Ava, was something Hakuro had heard about in class, and before that other places. In philosophy, in psychology, there is a concept: Everything is unconsciously connected to one other. Our thoughts and memories, our habits and mannerisms, our teachings, our history, and everything down to the first instinct - it is all linked in one place that we all share that's in the back of our brains and existent all over the place. In Philosophy Class, you'd be asked things like "Where is the human mind, as opposed to the human brain?", because the brain is just the organ that manages our body. But where in all that gray matter is the mind? The frontal lobe? The pineal gland? We don't know. The human mind doesn't seem to have a location. You may as well be asking "Where is the human soul?", because you won't find it on any map. But here...in the Velvet Room and whatever this place it resided in was...maybe you could find it. Maybe here was where it truly existed.

And that was the point, basically. The Collective Unconscious was the full gathering of all of our minds, our dreams, our perceptions of reality. This was deep stuff, deep enough to create a world. Igor had come all this way to give them a heads-up, that things might be going down. They were taking a romp through a world unlike their own, and he cautioned them to be careful out there. Once Alex was done informing Ava of what he thought was going on - what seemed as good an explanation as anything else - he turned back to Igor once more, asking the how and... Yeah, he'd had those cards out and...they looked like Tarot Cards. What was up with that?

"Oh, these cards? They're yours."

He raised a hand, and they flew out into the open air, facing the three, side-by-side at first, but then moving to rotate around each other. They were The Priestess, The Emperor, and The Fortune, respectively.

"This journey has already taken its first step. Three forces of personality have come in contact with one another, and soon they will draw in more and more to their place, to come here."

More cards appeared, taking on orbits around the three, yet also changing their respective trajectories in a harmonious fashion. Hakuro saw The Chariot, the Tower, the Hanged Man, and so on... And then, at the center, there appeared another card: The Sun.

"Each person has their place in the world, and they are both driven and influenced by the force of their own existence and the interaction of others. They are confidents, friends, cammon associates, and the like. They orbit around each other, each with their own path in life that can be altered at the drop of a hat."

Igor ignored that Hakuro dropped his hat for effect.

"What is our purpose, our reason to exist? Why are we here? Where are we going? We ask this of ourselves all the time, even if we do not know it. Perhaps we are looking for purpose, or perhaps what our goals were have been dashed, or perhaps we've known all along and work ever-so-quietly towards it. Ultimately, the greater purpose may elude us because the outline of it is so great that we cannot see the entire picture, or that it was staring us in the face the entire time that we simply did not notice it."

All the cards vanished, except for the original three...and The Sun, still hanging between them. And then, The Moon appeared!

"I give you...your starting point, to see the whole picture, to see what the influence of your lives and others do to this world, to see its purpose...and to know your own."

The Priestess, The Emperor, and The Fortune flew over and landed in the hands and hat of Ava, Alex, and Hakuro respectively. Hakuro looked down at the card as he picked up his hat, then back at Igor and Amari. The Sun and The Moon were still there in mid-air.

"Who are they, then?"

"One you must seek and one you must find. The Moon will wander along the path to this world. The Sun will guide you in this place. Look carefully, all of you. Your lives may depend on every detail you see. There are those that make it here, without guidance and purpose, without hope or help, and they have fallen..."

The three of them could now feel the train coming to a halt, and saw that Amari had produced an old-style microphone from...somewhere. The outside looked EXACTLY the same as when they first came in here.

"Now arriving at Velvet Station! Everybody off! And please remember to mind the gap!"

"This is the end of the line, for now, but the end is also the beginning, and we will meet again when you enter this world of your own free will. 'Till then...farewell."

The doors opened, everything got all foggy, and soon...they would awaken where they had fallen asleep, prior to arrival.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Hakuro found himself with his head on his desk, by the computer. Oh, he must've blacked out. Too tired or something. His head hurt a bit too. Should be more careful... Ah well. A quick look around the site, and then to bed for real, this time. He had a funny dream with this train and a big nose and... He paused, then. There was a response to his question about tree-climbing in London that struck him, suddenly, as familiar:

"It's not really proper, though. Pip, pip!"

Romaní Bogart

_{Strength Blares When the Candles Fade
theme
@Typical@Savo@LetMeDoStuff@Letter Bee@Conscripts}

---

This was a mess. Placing it in simple matter cemented the totality of how crazy everything seemed to unfold before his eyes. To some extent, his ears stopped registering whatever was being said, or happening before him. Scanning to the upmost best of his ability, nothing that was happening seemed normal. Everyone looked to be strangers to one another, yet the only ones who were truly any respectful to one another was Laurence, who quickly after handing Romaní his notes made way towards the distance leaving with what he suspected to be a mouthful of a piece of his mind. And and the blonde girl who for the longest just sat there listening intently to what everyone had to say. To that extent, another student joined the fray and was understandably annoyed by the two before him. They were making a ruckus and honestly they did needed to be stop. But the small blonde guy had stepped his foot and began to speak even more ridiculous nonsense. Antidote? Thought Romaní in the span of it all, finally realizing that this must be some type of gag or set up. He stared down for a second towards the Jet black haired teen to see if he could pick up any semblance of thought or even anything remotely indicating this was a prank. But nothing seemed to have peered from his features that wasn't a pure sense of 'being over it'

After all of this, the blond girl finally spoke out. And what seemed to be for Romaní to have initially been another witness in this fruitless chaos, had actually some import on the matter. Apparently, from what he understood, this kid whom now swarmed the new guy had been trying to convince her to make some antidote? For what? Does the school even have something so exotic as a scientific laboratory with all the necessary components and items for them to form something like an antidote? For anything? Was that course even held in here!? For a second Romaní had lost himself in his sense of reality and thought that he probably was transported to Hogwarts or the like. He half expected for the books to fly off the shelves and start flapping their pages around, attempting to keep themselves afloat. Whilst all the portraits and headings resembling some type of life on them would move and gesture in the process. Confused and utterly mesmerized by the absurdity of them all, Romaní had thought that this were aliens attempting some sort of human conversation.

Mikhail had began to utter more gibberish in the span of what seemed to be a minute, Romaní picked up bits and pieces and his skepticism rose for a bit. Something about his father being killed by toxin's and not being able to trust forensics or the police about it... Romaní nodded once, twice, three times before realizing what was happening. They are all insane. After forming that conclusion it was as if the sailor realized that the storm was over, there was a clearness in his mind and a laughter that followed. It made perfect sense why the altercation was happening, the veritable yet large misunderstandings and why he didn't get anything. They all just needed to be placed into some mental asylum! To some extent he realized now that he held Laurence's notes in his hands, he didn't need to give him the entirety of the notebook, he was just gonna take pictures of it and then rewrite it on his when he got home. He didn't want to impose too much, but he supposed that Laurence didn't give much or a care whether it was one way or the other. Storing it neatly on his hand bag, and attaining with ease what he needed, he would be on his way.

Taking advantage of his lack of notoriety, he would make his way, out of the way, and leave. Notability was the crux of everything in the world, and these people were at the helm of it at the moment. They were battling for... something and people were begging to stare. Romaní cursed his lack of attention, but similarly welcomed the awkwardness. It was a change of pace to what is, or perhaps was, up until now just another boring day. "Well, I guess this is my out then?" He spoke to himself, reassuring that the times called to move on forward. He wanted to interject, but similarly, placing his hand on the scar on top of his head, he decided not to. He looked at all the students one final time, the smile dissipated from his lips. He could've sworn, actually, that he knew these people from somewhere. At least the blond guy and the dark haired one. He shrugged and changed his view towards Merja, who said that she saw some type of... kindness on Mikhail. Romaní remained silent for a moment, and proceeded to the entry way of the Library where there was a machine that served coffee. He wasn't much of a coffee guy, but he did enjoy a latte everyone once in awhile. He proceeded to order it and place two strips of paper around the cup as to not burn his fingers. Adding a spoon of sugar and a small straw, spinning it and blowing of the steam of the top. The cream was making its way to the top and he returned to the table the people were in before. It seems the conversation hasn't ended. He looked at Merja before leaning closer shielding his lips so that they wouldn't be read and whispering near her ear. "Sorry you had to go through this. But it's cool that you see it with the best of intentions. Here, you deserve at least something for your troubles. It's a basic latte with one spoon of sugar on it and cream."

Perhaps as a means of apologizing for his initial thought on all of them, although the other two seemed hellbent on something, Laurence and Merja seemed kind. "Take care." He wished he had enough time to thank Laurence as well, but it seems the opportunity escaped him. He slip the cup towards Merja's direction and smiled, before leaving towards the door and thinking about what to do with the rest of his day.