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St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

a topic in School-Based Roleplay, a part of the RPG forum.

St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby ReiRyuusei on Fri Mar 27, 2009 1:25 pm

OOC: post534605.html#p534605
IC: Hey! You found it!

Dear ____________________

Congratulations, you have been chosen from thousands of new applicants to be offered a position at St. Damien’s School for Dark Ones, a highly regarded boarding school for young Vampires, Lycans, Dhamphirs, Wolfmen and Wolfladies. St. Damien’s until recently was a highly regarded school for Dark Ones boys, but after a recent debate with the school governors, we have agreed to allow girls in this year and as such, an entirely new dorm block has been built and new facilities for predominantly female subjects have made available. With this notice of acceptance, you will find a list of classes that you must chose and send back to us, as well as the form telling us whether we will see you in September. I’m sure you are aware, but just in case you are not, the school is situated near the commune of Èze, South France. We here at St. Damien’s are most eager to see you on the Monday 2nd September.

Sighed, Headmaster

F. Stein


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rules

1. You must be literate, obviously. Grammar and spelling mistakes to a minimum, about 2-3 paragraphs in a minimum post (except for ordinary dialogue, even I understand that's hard to make a master piece of a three page post with)

2. No too naughty stuff e.g. gory, horrible posts, cybering... If you wanna do that stuff, take it to the PM. Not all of us want to know the size of your darling little male OCs you know what...

3. Not too much swearing and cursing; it's not as hard as you think it is.

4. Please, people. Think realistically. I know they're Vampires and Lycans and stuff but I'm talking about their personalities. I don't like girls ( and boys) who burst into tears and/or have a fit every time they meet someone new and they give them a bit of stick. And I'll decide on the super powers of Vampires and Lycans later. That is final.

5. Still on the subject of powers... No Twilight related stuff. Seriously. Nothing. Nout. Nil. A void. Got it? Even if your character is from Forks and Phoenix, because next thing we know you'll be Edward's and Bella's secret descendant. Go cry in Edward/Jacob's crotch for all I care. No sparkly, controlling boyfriend of a vampire here, okay? Too bad.

6. That also brings us to the sixth rule. I am God. Don't like it? Boo hoo. This is my idea and I want to try my hardest to make this clichéd, over used idea into epic win-ness. It may work, it may not. We'll just have to wait and see. Also, to make sure it isn't noob infested, I will check your OC profiles, past writing material... etc, etc.

7. Finally, have fun! (If I'm not too much of a strict b*tch, that is) If you're interested, then make your own profile. I want detail, people, juicy details! Oh, and no IC in OOC stuff and as little OOC stuff in IC stuff, blah, blah, blah, depending on if this RP gets off the ground. Thanks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Species Rundown

Vampires: These creatures of the night drink blood about once a week to stay alive, do not eat or drink anything else and don't sleep. The amount of time they can spend in the sun is determined by their age; the older they are, the longer they can stay in it without chronically burning. They aren't immortal, they just age very slowly; a vampire ages a year every decade (ten years), have enhanced speed and strength, as well as quick healing abilities. Their skin is strong, but not like granite or steel and is very cold. They can see very well in the dark and can sniff blood from a mile away (much like a shark in water) and because of their slow heartbeat, only need to breath about once every three hours, though they do it more often from habit. They can communicate through telepathy with one another.

Dhampirs: Half vampires, born from a vampire father and a human mother. These creatures only need to drink once every fortnight (two weeks) to stay alive and can eat food and drink other things beside blood. They age a year once every five years and also have super speed, strength, eyesight and smell, but only half as strong as the Vampire. Their skin is normal and need to breath only twice as less as a human, can go out in the sunlight all the time, their wounds heal quickly but a fatal wound is likely to kill them if it is not treated immediately. They are looked down upon by members of high ranking Vampire families.

Lycans/Werewolves: Practically human, apart from the fact they can transform into wolves. Their wolf forms as normal sized, but do have a mental link with one another to communicate, which can be used on humans as well, though their mental powers have to be very strong. They do have a large, hybrid form where the traditional werewolf came from, but this form can only be brought upon by the full moon and the use of a Lycan A Class drug, Wolfbane, which is illegal. You would think that as humans take illegal drugs of their own, Lycans would be the same. This is not true; Wolfbane is too dangerous, far more dangerous then things like Cannabis, and makes the transformation excruciatingly painful. For every seven years, a Lycan ages one year. Super strength, speed, smell and eyesight grace the Lycan heritage.

Wolfmen/Wolfladies: The result of Lycans and humans breeding. Unlike Dhampirs, these creatures can be brought upon by the female being from either species. Like Dhampirs, Wolfmen and Wolfladies do possess some of the powers of their Lycan parents, but they aren't as strong. They cannot full transform to their wolfen forms and even with the help of the full moon and Wolfbane, they would never have a Werewolf form. However, they can grow a tail and ears and sometimes even paws and increase their body hair volume. Unlike Dhampirs, Wolfmen and Wolfladies are usually accepted into the Lycan society with open arms. The age normally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accepted Characters

Vampires (2)

Corey Patterson - St. Jimmy

Dahlia Webber - Lina

Dhampirs (4)

Frankie Fray - ReiRyuusei

Daniel Fray - ReiRyuusei

Alexandra Gaskarth - SaveYou

Kyril Thomas - St. Jimmy

Lycans (2)

Bray - RevolutionRoulette

Lenny Sandors - imogen_22

Devin Jordan - Untold Truth

Wolf people (2)

Natasha Ormaskva - ReiRyuusei

Angel - Diedra

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie Fray, an 18 year old female adolescent Dhampir, pressed the air-con button of her older brother’s soft top sports car for about the twentieth time for the 2 hour car journey. Daniel Fray raised an eyebrow at his younger sister, watching her sigh in defeat and shove the dashboard as she flopped back into her seat, the back of her top sticking to the leather. Frankie flicked back her long, straight, side parted and ebony coloured hair, stark white streaks dyed in random parts along her diagonal fringe. Her skin tone was suited to the weather, tanned. Her eyes were deep blue, like sapphires, and ringed with a thin line of black eyeliner and a flick of mascara. Frankie was tall, about 5’11, and she had a curvy figure. Rounded hips and an incredibly impressive bosom. She had a slightly masculine face; high jaw line and cheekbones, slightly biggish nose and thick, Bollywood style eyebrows.

Her brother beside her was alike to her, but also very different. He was tall and they had the same face, though while her eyebrows were plucked and neat, his were a bit wild and out of control. Though was about where the physical similarities ended. His skin was pale, ivory coloured and shining with a layer of sunscreen. A messy mop of vibrantly scarlet hair, all natural. His figure was athletic, muscled but not a bodybuilder. He was used to his sister’s mood swings and knew how to deal with them. “For the last time, it doesn’t matter how many times or how hard you press it, that air-con is knackered and isn’t gonna work, alright my lovely?” He spoke with a British accent, adding in a hint of Irish to emphasise his physical heritage. His sister merely sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, then realized that made her all hot and sweaty and let them loose again. She turned to glance into the back of the car.

Her best friend, though considerably younger than her in human years, Natasha Ormaskva, a Russian, 17 year old Wolflady, lay in the back, snoozing peacefully behind her sunglasses. Her spiky blonde bob was spread around her head like a shimmering halo, her pale skin covered in high factor sun cream, giving it a slight sheen. Her frame was petite, thin and barely any curve on her. Her high apple breasts were flattened even more by her lying position. Her dull but shocking grey eyes were hidden behind closed lids and her large, Victoria Beckham style sunglasses. A tan leather jacket, her own, was being used as a pillow for her head resting against the car door. Even with her amazingly acute hearing, Natasha slept like a log, dead to the world, so she could nothing of the bickering between the two half Vampire siblings upfront. But they were all bickered out at the moment… They fell silent once more and Frankie drifted off into sleep. Daniel shoved a CD into the stereo and played it softly, not to wake the sleeping princesses in his noble carriage.

--------------------------------------------------

“Later, Daniel. See you when we see you.” Frankie slammed the door behind her, while Daniel saluted her. She and Natasha stood with their suitcases beside them and their handbags on their arms and even an extra bag pack on their back. The pair of them gave him a smile and turned to begin walking away, following the trail of girls heading into the general direction of the right to the huge Gothic style building, with a giant front door and two scary brass knockers; one in the shape of a snarling wolf head, the other a bat screeching at them all to get to class. Daniel watched his sister walk confidently on her way, turning her head to chat to the blonde beside her. Then he restarted the ignition, ignored the few girls giving him suggestive glances and pulled off, making his way onto the road that would eventually lead him to St. Dante’s University for Dark Ones. The two saints had worked in close connection with each other, both situating their once all boys school in Éze, Southern France. Which was a bit odd, considering it had some of the sunniest days in summer and they were both dealing with educating Vampires…

“Oi! Sweetheart! I’ll bite your neck if you bite mine!” A scrawny looking young man shouted at Frankie, accompanied by wolf whistles and snorts from his friends. The Dhampir and the Wolflady rolled their eyes in perfect sync, then caught each other’s eyes and laughed at the schoolboys’ stupidity, ignoring them otherwise. “Why go for her neck when you can go for them…” The sound of their crude remarks were drowned out and Frankie was glad they were. Otherwise, despite being only half of what they were, she would still have knocked their teeth out. “Boys. Like a fish needs a bicycle, eh, Frankie?” The blonde asked her taller, curvier friend with her Russian twang edging her words, trying to light the mood. Frankie caught the message and turned to smile at her, showing her appreciation.

“Yeah. I think I’d prefer a raunchy Lycan anyway. I heard they’re pretty wild in the bedroom department…” The pair kept a straight face for about five seconds, then they both erupted into giggles and several turned to stare at them. Neither cared. They could tell, even if they were only going to stay for 1 year, there was gonna be some thrills and some spills… Bring on boarding school.

--------------------------------------------------

“Room 666...” “Last room in the entire dorm building…” “…Seems almost perfect, doesn’t it?” Frankie smirked at Natasha as she turned the key in the locked and it clicked open. “It does.” The Russian agreed, her sunglasses removed and hanging from her shirt’s neckline. “Well then… Let’s quickly get out of these sweaty clothes, splash some water on our faces and get to class, yeah?” The two stepped in, noticing there was three beds but the third one was empty. Frankie took the one closest the window, Natasha just next to her next to the wall. The other was across from them, next to their door to their tiny shared bathroom. The moved quickly, not bothering to unpack but grab their already packed bags, filled with only their mobile phones, timetable, pencils and pens and maybe a bit of make-up if they needed a touch-up or got bored. And baby wipes; Natasha always had a packet of baby wipes.

Then they changed, Frankie into a pair of dark grey skinny jeans with rips all down the front (though thankfully not at the front), a pair of sparkling blue, high-top Converses and a nice summery dress; light blue, white and a rogue stripe of orange in tartan, no straps and with a thin, black belt round the middle. She was flashing her black bra straps, but she didn’t care. It was too hot to really care. Natasha was also getting into the summery dress feeling, even though autumn was just around the bend. A black and white, vertically stripped dress, with thick straps and no sleeves and white buttons at the front. Black ballet flats on her feet and a dark blue woollen cardigan over the top. Each girl had accessories of course, Frankie with chunky wooden bangles and Natasha with thin, silver ones. They each stepped out of the dorm building with a air of confidence, glad to see other girls heading to class too. At least they weren’t late.

“What do you have next?” Natasha asked, slipping on her sunglasses as they walked towards and into the main entrance of the school. The school motto was written in stone above the door, in both French and English.

Let the hawk perch and let the eagle perch.

“Social Studies, what about you?” Frankie replied, arching her eyebrow as the door slammed behind them, without them even touching it. They didn’t really need a map, their timetables had come in the post with them and there were signs placed on the walls which somehow managed to fit with the Gothic, almost Hogwarts like interior. “P.E. I sighed up for Dance. Hopefully it won’t be all hip hop and lap dancing.” The girls laughed and came to a junction, where the two of them would split up. For now.

“See you later then. Biology, I think.” Frankie gave Natasha a short hug, which the blonde returned. “Yeah, see ya.” The two girls turned at the same time, Natasha heading off to the Gym (which was a renovated barn, so it still fitted in, sort of), Frankie off to the stairs. She climbed two flights, following the signs and several Vampires and Lycans boys who were joking and messing around, as boys do. Frankie quickly stepped past them, ignoring the wolf whistles and calls for them to come back and give them a snog.

The class was full by the time she arrived, full of boys except one blonde girl whose appearance practically screamed out ‘Plastic’, who seemed to be saddling up to and attempting to seduce her neighbour, who stank of pureblood Vampire. Unluckily the only free seat was next to him, so Frankie hesitantly moved over, glancing and dodging as one guy even tried to reach out and grab her, while others just gave her bedroom eyes and nudged each other as she passed, her hips swaying slightly with her dress. She attempted to make eye contact with the dark haired boy, but he seemed to be far too distracted, at least until she sat down next to him and then the whole room fell into a hush and he turned drastically to meet her gaze. It was at that point the bell went, Frankie had made it just on time, but the only thing that seemed to be bothering her was the look in the young man’s eye…

((IMPORTANT: Anyone who is taking part in this role play. After you have posted your intro post, do not post again until everyone else has posted. This rule does not apply to Lina, who is currently on holiday. To make it easier, I’ll give you the thumbs up when you can post again.))
Last edited by ReiRyuusei on Wed Apr 15, 2009 5:49 am, edited 5 times in total.
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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby St.Jimmy on Fri Mar 27, 2009 4:01 pm

Corey closed his eyes as the wash of conversation in the car slipped past him. He was deliberately ignoring the words, choosing to focus instead on the sound of the air whistling in through the open window and the thrum of music behind his earphones. He let the low buzz of talk in the car literally whisper through his fingers and whip away out of the window as they followed the road through the south of France to the school. Scenery flashed by outside, and the warm sun was running its fingers over his pale skin; very soon, he was going to have to shut the window and pull down the shade to make sure that he didn't burn. For now, however, the heat wasn't uncomfortable on his extra-sensitive skin, and he enjoyed the cool breeze against his arm and running through his hair.

It was a relief to not have to listen to them all talking. He hated it; hated the way they fawned over Andrew and sent him odd, sideways glances, as if trying to figure out when he was going to grow up and start making them proud in the same way that his older brother did. Bloody Andrew, he thought bitterly, staring out of the window as an expression of jealousy flickered unbidden across his pale face. He was always the golden boy, wasn't he, with his perfect marriage and his perfect house and his perfect job? And wasn't he just the gentleman, leaving his precious wife for a day to come and see his brother off? He should count himself lucky, not many brothers were that generous, that wonderful... The words from earlier that day droned on and on and on through Corey's head and he pressed his hand against his forehead. When would they work out that he would much rather Andrew not come and see him off? It was ridiculous; he was eighteen - he didn't need a whole entourage to kiss him goodbye at the gates. Luckily, they weren't that embarrassing, but it was still humiliating to think that his entire family felt it necessary to drive him all the way to school.

Besides, he knew Andrew's real motive for coming in the car. It was so he could sit there smugly whilst their parents went on and on about how wonderful he was. Corey closed his eyes briefly, then wound the window up and pulled down the shade before resting his head against it and eventually managing to get to sleep, thus blotting out the sickening conversation entirely.

When they arrived at school, he left with a grunted goodbye. It seemed like such an anticlimax after the long drive, but Corey was eighteen. He wasn't a first-year anymore who was liable to break into tears on the first day of boarding school. As soon as the car had pulled away, he felt like a burden had been lifted off his shoulders, and immediately his walk became something more of a confident swagger, although not so exaggerated as to look ridiculous. At school, he could be the same character as his brother, and he loved every minute of it.

Getting to his dorm was routine, and not one that he enjoyed. Didn't his roommate just have to be that absolutely infuriating sixteen year old, Kyril Thomas? Corey had endured him for years now, and he had quickly learned that Kyril could not be intimidated, embarrassed, shown-up, perturbed, frightened, bullied or even caught in order to beat the shit out of him - he was too quick a runner. He was already there now, unpacking his bags, and as usual he had managed to make the clean room look like a bomb had hit it within about two seconds of arrival. Picking his way through the heaps of Kyril's shirts, jeans, underwear and text books that had somehow managed to spread themselves all across the floor, Corey dumped his suitcase on his own bed and started to unpack, making an effort to keep his tiny corner of the room tidy; Kyril obviously didn't care about the mess. The two boys hated each other, but Kyril seemed to find their animosity funny, whereas Corey most certainly did not. He had other reasons to hate Kyril anyway: he was a Dhampir, and as such not worth the time of day in Corey's opinion.

He changed in the bathroom, then headed down to his first lesson, which happened to be Social Studies. A lot of the boys were gawping at the new girls as if they had never seen such a creature as the 'female' in their life - and, truth be told, they had never really spent much time with them, owing to their years in an all-boys boarding school. However, Corey had been around several women in his formative years; his parents were always looking for a decent wife for him and they believed that they had found one in the shape of the very blonde, very self-righteous, and very rich Emma Huntley.

As he entered the classroom, she appeared beside him, speaking in her usual posh English accent which he had never been able to work out whether she was putting it on or exaggerating. He didn't think anyone in the world actually genuinely spoke the way she did, but maybe he was wrong.

"Corey, darling!" She came bustling into the room, ignoring the wolf-whistles of some of the boys, (more specifically the Lycan ones), as she reached his side. "I'm going to sit beside you. Is this your seat, darling? How wonderful!" There were a few sniggers at her accent, but her typically plastic good looks had mostly blown away the insults from a bunch of hormonal adolescent boys who had never really had the opportunity to spend much time with girls in their entire lives. Emma appeared to be the only girl in the class, and she immediately engaged Corey with a long-winded and "fascinating" story she "simply had to share" with him. He didn't really know what was happening in it, but that was probably because he was more focussed on her rather voluptuous bosom.

At that moment, he heard the boys start cat-calling again and assumed that another girl must have entered the room, but he was rather engrossed with his assumed girlfriend at the moment, so he didn't look round until the whole room went silent and he realized that she had sat beside him. He turned to look at her, his hazel green eyes boring into her sapphire ones. Emma leaned around him, looking scandalized.

"You can't sit there," she said. "I'm his girlfriend; I sit beside him."

"That's my friend's seat," Corey said. It was true - Scott Kelly usually sat there, but he was probably late, as per usual. "It's taken."

"Perhaps you didn't understand me," Emma said, growing increasingly shrill, "you can't sit with us, Dhampir." She spoke the word in the most derogatory tone that she could summon. Corey had smelt it too; the reek of impure Dhampir blood in her veins. But he was a little distracted at the moment; his eyes had just dropped to her chest and he realized that she was much better endowed in that area than Emma. For a moment, he couldn't tear his eyes away, but he finally managed it with great difficulty and met her eyes again with a smirk, letting her know just how much he hated Dhampirs as well.
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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby imogen_22 on Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:25 pm

"...won't it, Lenny?"

There was a silence in the car, as it took Lenny a moment to realize that her mum, now turned expectantly towards the back seat where she sat, had asked her a question. Up until that point, she hadn't been paying the faintest bit of a attention to her parents' animated conversation, watching the scenery roll by in silence. It seemed that her mother just noticed that she wasn't exactly contributing the conversation.

"Yep, definitely." She replied without wavering, though she had no idea what she had just been asked. Her answer seemed to satisfy her mum, however, and Mrs. Sanders turned back to her husband. Lenny was able to melt back into silence, amusing herself with the hem of her pale blue tank top. Her mum had tried to force her to buy new clothes for the start of the year, but she wouldn’t budge. Besides, she liked her clothes. They had personality, and weren’t just brand names and expensive labels.
Up until that year, St. Damien’s School for the Dark Ones had been an all boys institution. But then some important female got angry, filed some papers and voila; it was now a co-ed school. Of course, Lenny’s parents were ridiculously enthusiastic about applying her and, by some chance, she got in. And so here she was, being dragged across Southern France to a school full of sexually deprived boys and uppity blonde girls.

Fantastic.

After four hours of driving, the car finally pulled up to a huge, castle like building. Two similar buildings were just visible off behind it, one much newer looking than the other. Smaller, less grand structures were scattered somewhat randomly around the rest of the grounds, which Lenny could only guess to contain classrooms and other facilities. She stepped out of the car and onto the pavement, squinting against the sweltering sun. Her mum joined her, beaming up at the building.

“Isn’t this so exciting?” she all but squealed. Her dad came around from the trunk, carrying her two large black duffel bags.

“Thanks,” Lenny mumbled, taking both. She took a slight step away from her parents, which they instantly mimicked. Of course, they expected to escort her to the main building. Not a chance. She shifted her weight, in the processing taking another inch away from them.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you guys on Parents Day,” her tone clearly stated that she was going on alone from there. She tried to ignore the crestfallen look that came over her mum’s face. She looked like she was about to argue, but thankfully, Lenny’s dad gave her a meaningful look. She could always depend on her dad to get when she wanted to be alone.

“Yes,” her mother finally said with a sigh, stepping back. “Send us a couple of letters, won’t you?” She took her daughter into a sort of awkward hug, considering the giant bags that were weighing Lenny down.

“Yep,”

“See you, hon,” her dad added curtly, shuffling forward rather awkwardly to kiss her on the forehead.

“Well, bye.” Lenny said rather lamely, looking at the pavement. Her family sucked at good byes.

And then, mercifully, her parents got into the car and drove off, waving at her through the window. At least, her mother was. Her father gave her a sort of smile before turning his eyes to the road.

And so she turned, left alone on the path up to the building. Actually, she wasn’t alone. All the students that seemed to be a blurry background to her family’s awkward goodbye suddenly seemed to melt into center stage. Immature boys sat on benches, grinning and punching each other and eyeing the new prospects, every now and then wolf whistles rising above the chatter, followed by laughing. Most girls had come in pairs or threesomes, with sisters or close friends, shooting coy looks at ogling males.

Lenny hoisted her duffel bags higher over her shoulders, making a beeline for the girls dormitory building. She was stopped however, as a boy called at her from his position strewn across one of the benches. “Hey hon, what’s your name?”

She stopped, arching an eyebrow at him. It was a skill she’d honed for many years, the ability to raise an eyebrow so impressively. “Why? Don’t you have one?”

She marched off, slightly satisfied by the howls of laughter behind her as the rejected player was mocked by his friends. She couldn’t take full credit for the burn, admittedly-she’d heard it on tv. But they didn’t know that.

Lenny stopped at the door to the dormitory, having to drop her bags and fish her room information out of her over sized messenger bag. She opened the thick manila envelope, rummaging through the papers before locating her room number. 666. It sounded strangely ominous.

She pushed through double doors, met by a blast of air conditioning. Despite the modern conveniences, the interior of the building was just as gothic as the exterior; the walls had intricate wall paper, the windows adorned with crimson curtains. And to her right was an enormous stone fireplace, with rigid looking sofas and chairs around it. It seemed she’d found the sitting room.

Somehow, Lenny managed to find her room in record time, with a good hour to unpack and get changed for her first class. She pushed open the wood door and stepped into the room. Lenny paused in the doorway, looking around. There were three beds in the space, two of which had already been taking. And here she’d been praying for her own room.

With a defeated sigh, she shuffled over to the empty bed and plopped her duffel bags at the head of it. She didn’t waste any time, quickly crouching down and digging out a change of clothes and her bathroom bag.

Little plastic bag in hand, she padded across the room, and after a moment of hunting found the door to the bathroom. Like the room, it was an abrupt contrast to the gothic interior of the rest of the school, being light and bland.

Lenny sighed at the reflection in the mirror, which looked rather awful. Her dark brown hair was falling out of its pony tail, and her eyes looked tired and bloodshot. She turned one of the taps and splashed icy water on her face in an effort to make her look somewhat alive. And after dragging a brush through her matted hair, half heartedly re-applying her eye liner and brushing her teeth twice Lenny deemed herself as presentable as she was going to get and headed back to the room.

It felt good to change clothes, after sitting in the same pair of jeans and tank top for four hours. Lenny tugged on a new t-shirt and shorts, checked herself once in the mirror, gathered her books and finally, unable to find anything else to put it off, left the room for her first class. Calculus. An excellent start to the year, considering she despised calculus. Signing up for the class had been her parents' idea.

The students milling around the main grounds were just starting to drift towards their first classes when Lenny exited the dormitory building, squinting against the sun. According to her schedule-she felt slightly lame, having to refer to it every couple of minutes-social studies was in Building A. She needed to take but ten steps to see a large sign with fresh white paint reading, “Building A”. And here she thought she would get lost. There was a small hut behind it, like a miniature version of the main building, that many of the students seemed to be gravitating towards. Lenny followed.

The inside of the classroom was, once again, a drastic change from the halls and exterior of the buildings. Rather than dark and Victorian-esque it was bright and quite normal looking, with fluorescent lights and rows of desks. Most of the seats were already taken but, mercifully, one of the open ones was in the back row. Lenny quickly claimed the empty desk, putting her books down on it. She hated being called on in class, and found that the probability of that happening was decreased when she sat as far away from the front as possible.

She sighed, letting her gaze pan over the room. It was something she did when she was bored, people watching. There was a group of rowdy looking boys sitting by the windows, snickering about some inside joke and occasionally reaching out to grab a passing girl's ass. Definitely girlfriend-less, the lot of them. A trio of girls, all blonde and giggly, had just entered and, as Lenny watched, were doing a terrible job at being discreet about glancing over the males in the room.
Last edited by imogen_22 on Sun Mar 29, 2009 6:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Nykizta on Sun Mar 29, 2009 10:56 am

*--*
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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby ReiRyuusei on Sun Mar 29, 2009 12:15 pm

((People, can I just point out that I said Frankie took the last seat in her class... So I don't know where you're getting this imaginery seats at the back of the class from >.>;; A bit more attention should be paid, I think...))

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SaveYou on Sun Mar 29, 2009 12:25 pm

"So, are you excited about going here, Alexandra?"

Conversation between Celia Gaskarth and her daughter often had long silences between every other sentence, and the car ride to St. Damien's was no different. Alex's mother didn't really take an intrest in what her daughter liked, and the fact she always pronounced Alex's name fully never failed to annoy her.

"Suppose so,"

There was another long silence.

"Reckon you'll make many friends here?"

"Suppose so,"

"Do you think you'll like the school?"

"Suppose so,"

"Is that all you say?" Her mother asked, visibly irked. Alex shrugged, more intrested in the Nirvana song she was listening to on her iPod. She heard her mother sigh, before she finally let the conversation die, much to the relief of Alex.
Frankly, she was not looking forward to going to this school. If it was an all boys school before, she could see nine out of every ten girls going here getting hit on by the first idiot who used his dick as his brain. She wasn't going to like this much, but she hadn't exactly had much of a choice; rather, her mother told her she was going to boarding school and she should start packing. There was no more conversation for the rest of the car ride, suiting Alex just fine. She had to save all her energy for the act she'd do once she got to this school. True, she always put on that act, but still, she didn't have to pretend much around her mother. Her mother didn't care if she was boring or not.

When they finally arrived at the school, Alex plastered a smile onto her face and shot out of the car, snatching her bags from the boot. Her mother didn't get out of the car to help her, which suited her just fine. Waving enthusiasticly, she turned towards the school, bouncing towards where her dorm room was supposed to be.

There were three beds in the room, but she seemed to be the first one there. Dumping her bag on the bed, she started to unpack, but really just dumped all her clothes into messy piles in the drawers. Alex had never been one for being tidy.

She knew she had class soon, but she wasn't too worried about being on time or not. Raking her fingers through her hair as a makeshift brush (already, she'd forgotten where she put hers), she grabbed the books she need that had been sitting on her bed, and made her way to her class at her leisure.

It took her a while to find, but eventually, after being pointed in the wrong direction by a group of spiteful vampires, she found her English Lit. class. There wasn't too many people in the room, meaning there were plenty of free seats she could pick from. She chose one in the middle of the room, looking around the room and trying to spot any other Dhampirs. No luck. A few wolfpeople and a hell of a lot of Vampires, but no Dhampirs.

At least you're unqiue, her mind told her.
Yeah, because being unique because you're a Dhampir has always been a good thing.
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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Nykizta on Sun Mar 29, 2009 12:28 pm

*.*
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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby RevolutionRoullette on Mon Mar 30, 2009 7:11 pm

Bray was being driven to his new school in silence, the only sound being the soft whistle of the wind entering the taxi from partly open windows. He didn't speak to his driver all the way there, apart from occasional questions and answers, just to make sure neither one went insane from the constant quiet, as peaceful as it was. His silver-grey eyes stared blankly at the blurring surroundings as the vehicle drove by other occasional cars.

It was rather dull for the Lycan. He would have taken his own car up to St. Damien's, but it was unfortunate that a tire burst a week before, and he couldn't afford enough euros to have it fixed, so the local services would do. He lived on his own, and he preferred it that way, no troublesome family members nagging on when it wasn't necessary.

Every so often, he would shuffle through his tattered jacket pockets' to check the time on his old mobile phone; it had been handed down from a friend. He hardly used it, only to send rare text messages or phone calls, mostly to check the time. Bray couldn't quite grasp what made solitude so comforting, but he was content with his chosen life style.

"Combien de mills est-ce qué c'est monsieur?" the young Englishman calmly inquired, having his dead eyes and the driver's meet in the view-way mirror. He had to learn some of the basic of the French language when he moved there, he knew not many French spoke English, or if they did; depending on the city or the experience, some couldn't speak it well.

"Pas loin, jeune homme. Élever vous-même sous le contrat" the taxi driver responded with a chuckle, with Bray smirking in response, before he leaned his head against the call window. Éze was such an intriguing place. Pleasant people. Reserved, but very pleasant indeed.

---------------------------------------


Stepping out of the vehicle, in front of the curiously gothic building before him. The driver, who he recalled his name being Pierre Michel assisted him with his luggage out of the boot of the car. The Lycan courteously nodded in thanks and paid him the right amount for taking him the many miles from where he stayed to this school for the gifted.

"Merci beaucoup, monsieur" Bray spoke, walking away towards the entrance of the building having a kind farewell from the driver. When the taxi drove away, the young man older than he claimed glanced around, taking in his surroundings calmly; the wind blowing against his thin, dark brown waves of hair.

As he walked, he paid little attention to the people around him, his focus was getting to his first class. Even being tolerant to his half-cast brotheren treating women of any species so poorly. He shook his head in shame, wandering behind a few of the other new comers that arrived before him.

------------------------------------------


Unfolding the paperwork he'd been given when he was accepted into St.Damien's, which included a welcoming letter and maps of every corridor of the large, beautiful, even relic gothic building, a time table of his lesson, but also the information about where he would find his room. He had a vague idea that some people had to share, have roommates but most rooms were for single people, most of the time that is.

The Lycan worked his way round, getting lost occasionally and having to ask for directions and to his relief in English -- as romantic as the French language was, it would eventually destroy the karma that patient werewolf had build up for the last eighteen years of his life, or so he told people of the human world -- but he managed to find his room, and use the key to unlock it.

His dead silver-grey eyes peered into the empty room. There was enough space to move around, and to meditate when he needed to relax. That was another thing he questioned about himself, all these hobbies he picked up over the years and kept for personal satisfaction, it astounded him how...what was the word, addictive human hobbies could be.

Bray placed his luggage upon the bed, carefully removing his coat from the age of it and flung it beside his bag, admiring the craftsmanship of the room itself, the old detail. His senses could smell the age of this building just by inhaling deeply, it intrigued him immensely. That's when he remembered the time table.

He sat upon the bed and peered through the list, and quickly caught onto the first lesson listed. "Dance...?" he murmured, interested. His dark eyebrows furrowed. "Sounds, interesting" he added to himself, not phased that he was interacting to no one other than himself. He didn't mind, it wouldn't harm any body. Standing, he peered into the small mirror and made sure his clothes were alright and not too creased. Really, i didn't bother him what he looked like, however he wanted to make a good first impression.

"Hmm...it'll have to do..."

--------------------------------------------


Dance took place in another part of the building, so the Lycan had to travel for a couple or so minutes with the guidance when he got himself lost to find the class room. He had pulled his thin brown hair back into a loose ponytail and had pulled the jacket collar up to cover some of his face, to shield his eyes from the sun.

Bray soon found the door to his first session, and didn't hesitate to open it and walk through. Suede boots' clicking muffled by the brief carpeting along the doorway before it stopped to have polished wooden slabs as a replacement, freshly polished. He blinked up when he noticed most of the students were young women, presumably dance included ballet, a form only seen to be for girls only, which to him was rubbish. But if he found he would be made fun of by his brotheren, it would simply ignore it.

"I apologize if I'm late" he murmured politely, noticing the teacher was in the room, sorting things at her desk. He removed his jacket and placed it beside the other coats, whilst joining the rest of the group and giving the blonde Russian a kind smile as he passed.





OOC: Translations: "Combien de mills est-ce qué c'est monsieur?" "How many miles is it, monsieur"
"Pas loin, jeune homme. Élever vous-même sous maîtriser" "Not far, young man. Keep yourself under control"
"Merci beaucoup, monsieur" "Thank you very much, mister"
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St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC] - Currently in role-play

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Diedra on Sat Apr 04, 2009 11:25 pm

Angel's nose was jammed uncomfortably against the car window. She shifted positions for the nth time and felt her skin peeling away from the hot glass like a suction cup. Her dark gray T-shirt, her favorite one with the breast pocket that she still wore even though she had outgrown it when she was 15, was soaked through, and her legs in her green soffee shorts stuck to the black car seat.
The sun made her mad. Her slippery sweat made her mad. When her mom looked at her it made her mad. The fact that she had to go to this god damn school made her mad.
She opened the window and put her arms and head out. The wind whipped her red hair into her face and she glared at passing drivers.

Angel liked being special. Even if others didn't know it, she had always been special in regular school because of the wold ears and tail the Wolflady could sprout. Here she would be average, ordinary - even a lesser being.
Eventually Angel got bored with being mad and her big, round eyes softened. She really wasn't that pretty - she had a weak chin and a doughy quality to her face - but those wide eyes and her knobby little nose and big, soft lips would fool you. There was definitely something striking about her face but it might have been more to do with her caramel skin next to her naturally orange hair that did it. Or it might have been the expressions themselves - the best way to describe Angel might have been 'feisty'. Or 'childish', depending on how you looked at it.

The car finally pulled to the curb and Angel had the mercy to actually say goodbye to her mother. As soon as she turned towards the building her anger was swept away by excitement to meet her roomates as Angel genuinely liked most people. Few people genuinely liked her - but she was used to that. It had been that way her whole life. She was naturally charming, but everyone soon realized how selfish she was. Her fierce independence was the only thing that kept her from leading a deeply frustrating life.

Prancing through the ornate halls and enoying the attention boys were lavishing on her, Angel peered around one last corner before finding her room. When she could finally dump her bags, she immediately pulled her hair up into her signature spikey tuft of a ponytail on top of her head. Her deep brown eyes scanned across both her duffle bags and the schedule in her hands and after a moment of deliberation she flopped down on her bed and ignored both of them. She had no interest in work of any kind.
There was another set of bags already in the room(Alex) but their owner wasn't there. Angel flicked on her ipod and stared at the door. Alone with her thoughts, she began to feel slightly uncomfortable. But she was used to that, too.
"We're meddlesome. We tell people what to do, what to think.Don't run, don't walk.

We're in their homes and in their heads and we haven't the right."
- River Tam, Serenity

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby ReiRyuusei on Sun Apr 05, 2009 4:18 pm

“Yeah, you’re nothing but a useless little Dhampir. You don’t deserve to be here, you’re just a useless halfcas-”

“Are you quite done?” Frankie asked Emma, a bored, uninterested expression across her face. At first she had been shocked by the pairs behaviour, but recovery had come almost as quick as Emma could blab. The Dhampir had turned in her seat to face the ‘perfect’ pair, an eyebrow raised and an not amused tone being used towards the blonde, as if Frankie were speaking to a child. “Or are you going to continue to embarrass yourself with your racist comments and your ‘holier than thou’ attitude. Because I’ve got something to tell you, princess. You might be considered the ‘hottest’ girl in the school, but I can tell you right here, right now. You’re not. Sure, your blonde, your gorgeous, you’re easy. What more could a guy want right?” Frankie shrugged, flicking her head so her fringe stopped falling in front of her face. For now, at least. “So what? Any girl could be you, sunshine, so I suggest you stop thinking you’re ‘special’ and ‘unique’ and ‘precious’ to the world. Because you’re not. Not only that, but if you don’t smarted out and shut your face, I’ll be rearranging it after I knock you into next week.”

An applaud took a slow start of at the back of the class, started by probably the most cheeky looking Lycan Frankie had ever seen. She turned to look at him, feeling a little flustered at the sight of him; it was fair to say he was pretty cute. Unfortunately, his behaviour and mannerisms scarily reminded Frankie of her older brother but despite this she looked away, a hint of pink gracing her cheeks. He was still hot. Eventually, his friends joined in, resulting in wolf whistles and cheering and even a couple of Dhampirs joined in; all of them haters of Corey Patterson and his ‘wonderful’ girlfriend, who really wasn’t that wonderful. Frankie turned back to Corey, staring him out with an emotionless expression. She desperately wanted to give him a talking to as well, but she didn’t know what to say to him. Except maybe one thing. “For someone who hates me, you don’t seem to mind checking me out, pervert.”

Then the door slammed open, shocking the cheers into silence and Frankie turned towards the front, going back into Ice Queen mode. The tall, well built Mr. Waterman approached his desk at the front of the class slowly, purposefully. He stared down his students, acknowledging the new faces of the females. He ran his hand over his brown and slightly greying stubble, which he had shaved off only this morning. His hair was cut short, curly and was reseeding already with the traditional middle aged man ‘M’ hairline. He wore circular glasses and he stared at his pupils through grey eyes. He slammed his diary onto his wooden desk, as if he were a judge calling order to a court. He let his eyes slowly sweep the classroom, raising an eyebrow as he caught on to the tension between Frankie and Corey. A Lycan as old as him could practically smell these things.

“Well then class… Welcome back. I’m sure you all had a wonderful holiday. For those who do not know me, or do not care to remember, I am Mr. Waterman, your Social Studies teacher. Now, some of you are new, mainly the two young ladies at the front here… So, today we shall be taking it easy and having a bit of a ‘breaking the ice’ session. You will be working with the person next to you and you will discuss about anything and everything. Don’t be too loud. Off you go.”

Frankie wanted to die, as it so turned out the person next to her was Corey. She let out a sighed and turned to face him, desperately looking around for someone else, anyone else to work with. It was then that a pencil came flying past her head and the Lycan boy from the back closely after it. He skidded onto his knees, resting his elbows on her desk and smiled at her. Frankie stared back at him, wide eyed back. He winked and puckered his lips at her, pretending to give her a kiss through the air and then ran back to his friends, who roared with laughter. When she looked, Frankie could see a small, folded square of paper and rolled her eyes. “Sly…” She commented, more to herself then to anyone and pocketed the piece of paper without looking at it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Welcome class to your first Dance lesson! I am your teacher, Mrs Waterman and if you could all follow me down stairs so you may be given your Dance uniforms! Now, if I could have two very strong and handsome students to help me carry these cardboard boxes downstairs!” A small, bouncy blonde of a teacher declared to her new class. Her sparkling hazel eyes scanned the faces she would have for only a few years, but that was good enough for her. Most of them looked skilled and talented in the world of dance already and even the ones that didn’t seem to hold some hidden potential that the Lycan woman who practically sniff in the air like honey. The class of mostly girls stood and followed her, at the back being followed by the two young men who offered to carry the cardboard boxes.

Most of them gasped and were awed by the size of the renovated barn on the inside, converted into a modern gym with an indoor swimming pool, a cut off training area and an open area for sports such as basketball, tennis and hockey. The girls giggled at the few guys who they suspected were mostly gay, but were glorious to stare at all the same. Natasha hung around, not really knowing anyone, but feeling the atmosphere of the class already. They all sat, the boys placing the boxes and ripping them open near the front with their teachers and the girls having to be shushed several times before Mrs Waterman began to speak again. “When I call your name, you will put up your hand and give me a shout and I’m going to throw your packet at you….”

----------------------------------------

The giggling gaggles of dancers exited the Female changing rooms and scuttled back to the Gym, some of them glancing over their shoulder as the boys lumbered almost lazily behind them. All of them were in their new uniforms. For girls it was a white, almost dress-like t-shirt with a black hoodie with ‘St. Damien’s Dance’ on the back, a pair black leggings and a pair of black ballet/dancing shoes. The boys had something similar, only the t-shirt was normal length and instead of leggings they had black, cotton jogging bottoms. They also had dancing shoes, though most of them refused to wear them. Although a few of them were gay, quite a few were straight and/or bisexual and didn’t like the thought of being called ‘girly’ by wearing the shoes.

Natasha had noticed the entrance of the Lycan called Bray before and the blonde skipped up to walk beside him, blushing a little at his intoxicating Lycan smell which sent her stomach doing summersaults. Even if she were a Wolflady, she could still become hormonal at his own wolfy testosterone. “Um, hi…” She said quietly, hoping he had heard her with his acute hearing, not wanting to be even more embarrassed by him ignoring her. “I’m Natasha… I’m kind of new here and I was wondering if I could pair of with you… If we paired up, I mean… Um, I’m into ballet, what about you?” The Russian scolded herself at her ramblings; very unladylike. Sometimes she wished she could be as cool as a cucumber like Frankie, especially around boys.

((Alright guys, the coast is clear. You may freely post now. Happy roleplaying!! :D))
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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby St.Jimmy on Sun Apr 05, 2009 4:37 pm

Corey hadn't reacted to the slow applause that came from the idiot Lycan boys at the back of the room. There was no point causing a scene; it would only be the Dhampir beside him who gained satisfaction from it. Instead, he turned away from the whole lot of them, only to find that Emma once more was eager to continue with the story that seemed to have no purpose. He nodded politely, pretending to listen whilst letting his mind wander off completely.

"...and then Daddy said to me that he just couldn't afford that, but I really thought he could so I insisted a little bit and as usual it turned out that he was only pulling my leg and he'd already bought me one! Isn't that wonderful? So I have it right here; do you want to see it?"

Corey had no idea what this fascinating object was, and to be honest, he didn't really care. He nodded and lost interest immediately as Emma started digging through her small black handbag, cursing at intervals and insisting that she'd brought it with her. He turned his head to engage Scott in conversation and remembered that the filthy Dhampir had stolen his seat. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; it was either go back to Emma's lecture on the joys of having a rich and lavish father, or attempt to strike up a conversation with the Dhampir beside him, which he certainly wasn't going to do. But the prospect of having to listen to more of Emma's story led him to do just that.

"I suppose you think you're clever, do you?" he asked quietly, keeping his voice low. "Well, you might have got a round of applause from the idiots at the back, but they're not the important ones in this school. I'd keep my head down, if I were you." He knew he sounded like he was trying ridiculously hard to be a tough guy, but he couldn't think of anything else to say, and he was trying desperately to blank out Emma's drivel that was still pouring from her.

***


Kyril always arrived late. He hadn't been on time for a lesson since some time in the second year, and even that had been an accident. As a result, he rolled into English Literature a good ten minutes after the bell, to find a girl sitting beside his usual seat. Nearing her, he smelled very clearly that she was, like him, a Dhampir.

The teacher didn't even bother asking him why he was late. In fact, he would probably have been quizzed more thoroughly if he had arrived on time. He stopped behind his chair and looked down at the girl. She had gingery-yellow hair, and was fairly pretty, to his eyes.

"Eurgh, it's a Dhampir," he said. "I can't sit next to one of those." Then he grinned at her, displaying teeth that were almost alarmingly white, and dropped into his seat. She was older than him, he thought, but because this class was so small, they tended to mix year groups together. He was sixteen; could she be about eighteen? She was a lot taller than him, from what he could tell by sitting beside her, but that didn't mean anything - he was only 5'5".

"I'm going to share your text book," he announced. "Because I've left mine in my room." He pulled it into the middle of the desk, so he could see it too, and then he grinned at her again. Everyone found him insanely annoying, but he couldn't care less.

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SaveYou on Mon Apr 06, 2009 12:18 pm

Alex looked up, eyes blazing, as someone announced they couldn't sit beside her because she was a Dhampir. She was certain it was a stuck-up vampire until she payed attention to what she was smelling, and she relaxed. Just another Dhampir making a joke.

As he dropped into his seat, she noticed he was pretty small, but because she was 6'1", everyone looked small to her; a side-effect of being really tall, though she was used to it now. She watched as he pulled her textbook into the middle of the table and grinned at her. Smiling sweetly at him, she pulled her book back towards her.

"Yes, darling, 'cos I'd really let someone I've just met do that," Grinning to show she was joking, she pushed the book back into the middle of the table.
"But Christ, it's the first day of term, you boys'd forget your head if it wasn't attatched to your bloody necks," She said. Holding her hand out to him, she finally introduced herself.

"Alex Gaskarth; if you find out my first name and call me by it, I'll gladly punch out all your pretty little teeth," She said, half-serious. Kyril didn't seem too bad, so far, and she seemed to be on her way to making a friend. Looked like she was getting off to a good start.

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby ReiRyuusei on Wed Apr 08, 2009 6:11 pm

"Miss Emma, if you coud please shut your mouth for five minutes, that would be wonderful and most beneficial to the class!" The Lycan teacher declared as he slammed down a piece of paper onto the blondes desk. He glared down at the young Vampire, eyes narrowed and veins practically popping out of his skull. "Did you not hear what I just said? Turn your chair around and face your partner, which I can assure you is not Mr. Patterson. Do it now and none of your feeble complaints!" The lycan demanded before moving on to pass another sheet of paper to the next pair.

"Pathetic... Can't find anything else more itneresting to talk about..." Frankie mumbled, taking her own sheet of paper and turning to face Corey, not really caring if he was willing going to work with her or not. As long as they looked like they were working, they would be fine. She looked him the ee, expressionless as she spoke. "No, I think my intelligence is about average, actually. And thanks for the advice, but somehow from the way you keep staring at me and my... Endownment... You find it hard to ignore me" Frankie concluded, offering him the piece of paper.

"In case you weren't listening, genius, we're going to be working together. I don't care if you actually answer these questions to me or you insult me all lesson. As long as we look like we're doing something together, then happy days." The ebony haired young woman crossed one leg over the other and ywaned, tired fro getting up so early. She covered her mouth with her hand but even so, her sharp and pointed canines flashed into plain view. "So..." She spoke, still in mid-yawn.

"My name is Frankie. As you can tell from my scent I'm a Dhampir and I can tell by the way you wrinkle your nose you don't like that. I can also tell from your scent you are a Vampire, but unlike you I am going to graciously admit that you smell delicious..." Frankie remained undisturbed as she said this, as if she were discribing the weather and not her classmates sense of smell. "You're hair also looks nice today... Did your mummy brush it for you or did you manage all by yourself?" As if by the flick of a switch, her sharp tongue was back and she proceeded to insult him again. This time however, a hint of emotion did shine through in the twitch of her lip, showing the beginnings of a smirk, but then disapearing just as quickly.

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby St.Jimmy on Thu Apr 09, 2009 9:24 am

Emma looked scandalized as the teacher berated her, but she turned aside reluctantly to work with her assigned partner, leaving Corey with the Dhampir. The girl looked supremely unconcerned by the hostility that was surely rolling off him in waves akin to tsunamis, and lounged back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and stifling a yawn. As she began to introduce herself, he tried very hard to keep his eyes on her face, but it wasn't his fault that a certain part of her body was so fascinating. When she actually paid him a compliment, however, his eyes shot back up in surpise. But then she ruined the moment by proceding to insult him again - although, was that a hint of a smirk around her lips?

"My name is Corey," he said, looking and sounding much more bored than he actually felt. "I'm a Vampire, which means, as you pointed out, that I smell much better than you do." He was holding back his own smirk now, wanting to see how far winding her up could get him. "My hair always looks nice" - he was only jovially boasting; he wasn't that big-headed - "and I coped by myself, because I'm a big boy. I don't need my 'mummy' to brush it for me, thank you very much. Your hair also looks nice," he conceded, "although I'm not really sure about the white streaks. Were we going for the raccoon look?" He knew he was being unnecessarily mean; the white streaks actually suited her very well. On the other hand, he hadn't liked her attitude towards him and decided that she should probably be able to take what she dished out.

***


Kyril looked a little surprised as she denied sharing the book with him, but before long she started grinning again and he realized she was joking. Smiling in relief - he really would have been lost if she hadn't let him share - he looked down at the hand she had offered him in mild surprise before accepting it with a grin; it was so formal he found it funny. But then, he found anything funny.

"Kyril Thomas," he said, and his attention was immediately caught by her threat about her name. It became his number one mission to work out what it was. "Alex? Right, so it's short for something? Um, Alexander? Alexa? Alexandra? Um, Alison? Alexandrea?" He was watching her face carefully for any flinch when he hit the right name. "It's got to be one of those, right?" Her threat hadn't perturbed him at all; he received about ten of them a day from irate classmates. It was hardly going to stop him now.

"If you don't tell me, I'll just call you a different one every time I talk to you until I figure it out," he warned her cheerfully. "Have you got a spare pen, Alexander? I left mine in my room. With my text book. So I could really use a spare one, Alexa." He kept casting her shrewd looks, hoping to get a reaction which would confirm to him that he had found the right name. "Have you got one, Alexandra?"

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SaveYou on Thu Apr 09, 2009 5:36 pm

Alex grinned as he went through all the names that could possibly be hers, but when he got it right, she just laughed and punched him as hard as she could in the arm.
"Give up, Kyril, I'm not telling you, so just call me Alex and get over it. The only people who find out my real name are the people I sleep with, so resign yourself to never knowing it," She said, fishing through her pencil-case for a spare pen and throwing it at him, before starting to scribble down what the teacher had put on the board, in her spidery writing.

"So, how long have you been going to St. Damien's? Were you here when it was all boys, or did you just start going?" She asked, not really caring (much) that she was talking over the teacher - schoolwork had never really been a priority for her.

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby ReiRyuusei on Thu Apr 09, 2009 6:06 pm

Frankie suddenly burst out into genuine laughter. She fell back against the back of the chair and lifted her hand to cover her mouth as she laughed. Her shoulder shook and the sound rang out like a good, helthy laugh. t wasn't the tinkling of wind chimes or a mouse having an orgasm next to a microphone, it was geuine. Normal. She even snorted, which got her laughing a little bit more. Eventually, she stopped, telling herself she looked stupid and like she was warming up to him, which she was, a little. But she couldn't reveal that to him.

"Oh yeah, black ringed eyes, big bushy hair and rummaging through other people's general household waste. Mmm, yeah, so my forte. But I'm afraid, honey, racoons are more ringed white around the black, not 'Go Faster' stripes, okay? Get it right, sweetie pie." Frankie flicked his forehead through his thick, black hair, not really caring if he grabbed her finger and snapped it off. Well, obviously she could care, but she was hardly going to make some big deal about it. Well... Yes, she would, but it wasn't like some super-special-awesome Vampire nurse could't heal it back to her hand eventually... Hopefully.

"So, did you remember to take your medication this morning? You know, your regular 'Holier-than-thou' tablets, the ones which make you into a total asshole." Frankie asked, twirling a strand of ebony black ahir around her finger, her nails painted the exact same colour. She looked away slightly, towards the back and the raunchy, handsome young Lycan who had passed her his number. She was also subtly ignorig him staring down the front of her dress, desperately feeling the need to roll her eyes but thankfully, remaining vigilant in not doing so.

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby St.Jimmy on Fri Apr 10, 2009 7:48 am

Corey didn't react to her bursting into a fit of laughter; instead, he just watched her, looking thoroughly unimpressed. When it had at last died down, she reached up and flicked his forehead, disturbing the strands of his thick black hair which hung down over it slightly. Resisting the urge to break her finger, he raised his eyebrows at what she had to say next, and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I don't need to take tablets to make myself better than you. I mean, you're a Dhampir, and I'm a Vampire, so that's about a hundred points in my favour right away. And you're not even a pure Dhampir. You're sort of a Dhampir-raccoon hybrid. Or, like, a skunk, maybe? They have straight white stripes, right? And they smell, too, so there's another similarity." He turned away from her, noticing that her gaze had flicked back over to the idiot Lycan boys at the back of the room, and instead studied the surface of the desk, which was inscribed with the names of generations of bored students.

"Did you remember to take your medication?" he added, a little disconcerted by how her personality seemed to be switching constantly. "Are you a schizophreniac? One minute you're laughing, and the next you're back in bitch mode."

***


Kyril could feel the teacher's glare boring into the back of his head, but he didn't care. Cheerfully, he answered Alex's question. "I've been here since the first year. And since the first year, they've made me room with Corey Patterson. But it's alright, because it makes me laugh. How old are you?"

He picked up the pen she had given him and copied down a couple of notes from the board. His handwriting was solid and chunky and unjoined, but not childishly so. After approximately seven seconds, he grew bored with copying the notes and leaned back in his chair, so that he was balancing precariously on one leg. His arm throbbed a little from where she had punched him rather painfully, but it didn't really bother him. People were always lashing out at him.

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SaveYou on Fri Apr 10, 2009 8:37 am

"Eighteen," Alex replied, wondering who the hell Corey Patterson was. Probably a Vampire. If he was, she was sure that he must want to punch Kyril on a daily basis, because even though she found him amusing, he was annoying as hell.

A small smile worked it's way onto her face when he saw him lean back. Turning sideways, she pretend to stretch, before kicking the chair leg Kyril was balancing on.
"Oops," She said as she did it. "My foot slipped, sorry,"

Alex liked to keep people on their toes around her; and if they were busy being careful, they hopefully wouldn't notice that she could be dead boring at times.

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby ReiRyuusei on Fri Apr 10, 2009 8:47 am

A loud crack filled the room and everyone fell silent and turned towards the front. Several gasps were muffed as they saw Corey's head turned at an angle, a red mark growing on his cheek and Frankie's had outstretched. She lowered her hand and turned to face the front, picking up the piece of paper between them on the desk and skim reading the questions. When really she was trying to stop herself grabbing the Vampires head and slamming it into the ground.

"You know, at first I used to pity people like you. Vain, shallow and ignorant. Stupid people who just couldn't accept change. But now I realize I shouldn't feel sorry for you; you bring things such as this upon yourself. You accuse people of being wrong when they can't chose who their parents are. You discriminate and ssume just because I amy not be 'pure', that I'm somehow dirty and don't deserve a shot at a good life." Frankie finally turned to him, her eyes blind with red rage and burning with hatred.

"You think you're the biggest guy on Earth... When really you're nothing but a tantrumming little toddler." The Dhampir scoffed, placing the paper down. "It's not wonder your parents threw you in here... They probably can't stand the sight of you." Her voice dripped with venom. Deep down inside, Frankie felt a little bad. Butthat guilt was washed over with anger, shame, embarrassment and hurt. Why should she care about this guy? He was scum and he should know it. "Please don't talk to me unless it's necessery. I don't like to associate myself with people like you."

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Re: St. Damien's School for Dark Ones [IC]

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby St.Jimmy on Fri Apr 10, 2009 9:15 am

Corey had expected her to fire back some more smart comments at him; he was actually rather enjoying this exchange of insults. She amused him. However, he certainly wasn't ready for her hand to lash out and strike him as hard as she could, leaving his cheek stinging violently and a red print on his pale skin that was fading very slowly.

It's no wonder your parents threw you in here ... they probably can't stand the sight of you.

He didn't want her to see that she had hit a nerve; didn't want to let the uselessness he always felt at home show on his face here. He was a different person when he was at school, and he could not let this Dhampir call back the part of him that he was so desperate to hide from his classmates.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "And don't worry, I won't bother talking to you. I wouldn't want to waste my breath." The humour that had been on his face earlier on had completely vanished, to be replaced by a much colder expression. He wondered how much longer could possibly be left of this lesson - all he now wanted was to get out of here.

***


Kyril was not at all prepared for his chair to collapse underneath him. She kicked the leg, and he fell backwards, only managing to bring his hands up at the last moment to cushion his head from whacking off the ground. Pain ripped through his knuckles, and he was aware of the eyes of everyone in the class on him. Then, as one, they all burst into laughter.

He scrambled to his feet, laughing along with them, and not at all perturbed. He picked his chair up and ignored the glare he was receiving from the front of the room. Brushing himself down, he sat back down, but ensured to keep all four legs firmly on the ground this time.

"You did that on purpose," he told her cheerfully. "But it's alright. People try to do stuff like that all the time, to me. I wasn't expecting you to, though."

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