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Renowned and Revered: The Academy

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Renowned and Revered: The Academy

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kouketsu on Sat Mar 10, 2007 10:31 pm

There was one indisputable fact attributed to the Sparsian Academy's inauspiciously named House of Ezekial, and that was the perpetual existence of quarrel. A few may stir and even less may grumble whilst adrift in slumber and tranquil reverie, but one need not search far beyond that to catch the fading echo of clashing blades or the harsh tones of verbal conflict throughout a number of chambers.

While at first assumption, one would think those blades hastily drawn and driven by some lot of irresponsible young ones and that conflict the product of some youthful material spat, the actual reality would find them partially in the wrong. House in-fighting wasn't exclusive to the adolescents doomed to the ill-named House of Ezekial. In fact, some would even argue the senior pupils overlooking the dormitory typically were the ones setting the cogs in motion.

Six chambers comprised the house, each chamber accomodating eight. And buried within the pages of a text in Ezekial House's chamber four sat a rather silent boy, peaceable and ceaselessly predisposed it seemed. Ten years at Sparsian and still naught within the entire Academy's wide offering of activity could engage him like well-crafted literature. Dragged to the institution for music, it only took him a matter of years to discover his innate distaste for performing before large audiences. Some would term it stage fright, and they'd most likely be correct. Showmanship was far from his most prominent quality, and actual confidence probably even less so. A dreamer, he preferred to say. Not a fighter, not a musician, not an artist. A dreamer.

The sudden crack that gradually etched itself along the wall directly above his head barely provoked the lad to movement, a brief glance of the eyes upwards to confirm the haphazard strike of only seconds prior. Why not aim lower next time, bastards. The clatter intensified, two young figures - no older than 13 the both of them - slinging about dull-edged blades as if the wayward act would actually resolve something. Each moment has its breaking point however, and how could a prospective philosopher possibly accomplish his reading with such racket?

The book snapped closed, frustration apparent but given little attention. Dammit, just put the things away already, it's getting late. Lips trembled, unable to muster enough conviction to actually speak the words. Rather, Aidan tucked the novel beneath his pillow and twisted about, head dropping like dead weight into the cushion. Maybe tomorrow.

But, just as was the nightly tradition for his ten years at Sparsian, the House of Ezekial would not rest that night.

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Raziel

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tarskius on Sat Mar 10, 2007 10:51 pm

The clang of weapons or the dull thud of fists was commonplace in the rooms surrounding him but Raziel found himself agitated at the incessant racket, though he was generally pissed anyways. Tonight he was going to put an end to the no doubt juvenile conflict so he could get a moment's respite from the days excessive stress. He had been reprimanded numerous times during his classes and on top of that was dead tired from staying up all night and being forced to listen to the flurry of swords that had been allowed to run rampant. A light curse came to his lips but died out only partially expressed as he rose from his bed to go quell the ruckus a floor above him. His lips moved in sparse quivers as he mumbled on his way to the place of battle.
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jader on Sat Mar 10, 2007 11:26 pm

Darius smirked a bit as he placed his hands behind his head, his beautiful blue eyes gazing up at the ceiling where the noise was vibrating from. Long blond locks filtered down between his shoulder blades, and his facial features seemed much older than that of a 16 year old.


"Don't worry. You'll manage to get at least two hours of sleep tonight," He said in a joking manner to Aiden.

"I, however, have a super powerful ability of - zzzzz," Darius trailed off, knocked out cold in a very deep sleep.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kouketsu on Sun Mar 11, 2007 12:30 am

Dreams. Now there was a palatable escape for the lad, the realm of wonderment and fantasy, a domain where stage-fright was no hindrance and his fingertips could dance as nimbly atop an instrument as they had the day he picked it up, without trepidation or worry about misplaying.

In fantasies he saw his greatest ambitions played out most vividly atop a stage in a drama which placed him as the daring lead, audacious and bold enough to slash a blade, vanquish a villain, and charm a lady all within the same unbroken scene. Each image flashed and morphed into the next, an incomparable fusion of his every wish come true as he was no longer the timid Aidan Gustavus curled up on a diminutive bed in the fourth room of Ezekial House at the Sparsian Academy. He was Aidan the Legend, an untouchable and invincible bringer of justice and aid to the downtrodden throughout Ghalerion! And with another moment, he was Aidan the Wise, instructing every adolescent that passed through Sparsian in the history of the world and all that was in it. He was picking at brains crafting potential into reality through a discussion on pre-Gaius Ghalerion communal philosophies.

But such reveries and the nonsense they perpetuated could only last for so long before recognition and reality stuck yet again, transporting that frail frame from a vivacious and awe-inspiring world of fantasy into the austerity of genuine existence, which he was yet again a frail and timid 15 year-old cowering in the corner of the fourth room of Ezekial House at the Sparsian Academy.

Eyes snapped open, his glance turned away from the inanity that continued into the night in his chamber, the words of the upperclassman placed aside the bed next to his falling far too short of the kind of solace he required. Sparsian was supposed to be a veritable paradise on Ghalerion, a palace and a kingdom that every parent would give their everything just for their child to see it, let alone attend the institution within its exterior.

And yet for some contained within that establishment it might as well have been a penitentiary. The House of Ezekial provided Aidan with little to look forwards to in the mornings and little to look forwards to at night. There was little joy for the youth in day after day of rigorous courses that he held no interest in. There was no excitement in getting mercilessly pounded upon during combat lessons. There was no salvation in returning to a chamber at the end of the night.

There was no escape for the boy but dreams.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tarskius on Sun Mar 11, 2007 1:18 am

While his goal wasn't yet in view it was certainly getting a significant amount more audible. He increased his already rushed pace as he reached the stairs that would bring him to the source of his annoyance. What he hadn't heard prior was the bickering and fussing accompanying the harsh chorus of singing blades. Upon reaching the room he noted the locked door which he would then politely knock on. However, upon multiple knocks and several bellows, he recieved not even an insult in reply. This only served to antagonize the already fuming teenager. He found himself seriously contemplating opening the door through rather violent means, but then he realized that he remembered how much he hated indecisiveness. With that revelation in mind he brought a powerful boot around to smash the door off it's hinges and a few feet into the room. Stepping through the newly renovated entrance, he bore his callous eyes deep into each of his junior's stunned expressions. "You two look tired. I think it would be advisable for you to get some rest." The youths were momentarily silent before both of them advanced on Raziel with a salvo of new complaints and a few old threats. Apparently they found his solution to the argument to be in bad taste. Despite being their upperclassman, the man rarely ever pulled rank, but this was certainly one of the times he was going to. Acting only in the young men's best interest he stepped to the right and swung his left heel around to connect with the back of their heads sending them face first into opposite sides of the broken door frame. He immediately grasped the collars of their clothing and hastily tossed them into their beds, though they hit the wall before landing on the relaxing constructs. His hand slipped over the light switch as he moseyed on out of the room, his other appendage tucked loosely in his pocket. "Good night, ya punks." With those last words Raziel journeyed back down to his room wondering if he had broken any of their teeth.
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Nightmare on Sun Mar 11, 2007 1:38 am

Zangetsu sat in his bed with one leg crossed over the other as he wrote down in his book what the clashes could be, specifically he wrote "As the swords of both of the warriors clashed fiercley against each ither more than the last clash, each one got a cut at each other's arm at the same time, they stopped briefly as a figure of a giant with a monsterous blade stepped in saying 'You two look tired. I think it would be advisable for you to get some rest!' The figure slashed at them with it's giant sword as they rolled back, dodging the blade and throwing insults at the beast. the figure silently beat them down makinig them get on their knees and liftid its giant blade 'Good night, ya punks!' It shouted as it slit both of their throats wide open." He than drew a stick figure slicing the heads off of two other stick figures. "There!" he said as he examined his work one more time. "Hmm" he thought that the sticks needed work as he drew an ouline of each figure "There, that looks better." he said as he put his book down on a nightstand beside his bed.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kouketsu on Sun Mar 11, 2007 11:59 am

With little spectacle nor even the slightest forewarning of its approach, daylight broke and morning fell upon Sparsian. The quiet youth lie in bed at full attention, eyes directed towards the ceiling while he awaited the inevitable clang of the academy's morning bell, rushing all manner of adolescents off to their first meal of the day and following that, the thing that Aidan was already dreading: their first course.

He swung his legs over the bedside and dropped his head into open palms, attempting to massage and exorcise whatever fatigue might have lingered over from the previous night.

"Gaius save us all," He muttered quietly to himself, attempting his best impression of actually caring that dawn was on them and they'd have to get moving. Gaius could provide little help to those wishes however, for without delay that bell positioned directly above the headmaster's quarters began its reverberating.

The fortunate ones around his chamber that actually managed slumber stirred into awakening with a hearty desire to face the day. Aidan pushed himself up from his bed in concurrence with the rest of them, all rushing about in anticipation for another day at the academy. They all became almost mechanical in their meticulousness and coordination while working immediately into the Sparsian schoolboy garb, an ivory cotton dress shirt linked along the middle with threaded straps that formed a row of crosses along the center and the pair of impeccably clean mahogany pants to match. Senior students radiated with pride in the academy insignia marked upon their sleeves while house superiors beamed even more so with the addition of the crest of Ezekial patched on their breast.

But all that synchronization faded into complete nonexistence after the dressing was complete, the breakfast dash finally commencing. Aidan tensed at the elbows and attempted to force himself through the chamber door while seven other lads, each considerably stronger and evidently more voracious, attempted to do the same.

"Ugh! Ack! Stop! What are you--! Let me--!"

Dead last again, but that wouldn't stop him from sprinting along the corridor to keep up with the charge of all the other emptying chambers in Ezekial House that soon melded into the unstoppable charge of all four male houses, a sight some claimed more frightening than the hammer of Gaius descending from Eden itself.

The academy was lively that day.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Nightmare on Sun Mar 11, 2007 2:29 pm

"Uuugh." Zangetsu said as he rested inside of the Mess Hall "The one thing I have not yet drawn is the toatally real,horrible Nightmares of the morning." he started rawing in his book. "So I'm gonna correct that right now!"

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jader on Sun Mar 11, 2007 4:19 pm

Darius yawned a bit as he watched the students stampede through the corridors of Ezekiel towards the Mess Hall where breakfast would be served. He was in no rush, like always, and very much enjoying committing the deadly sin of sloth.

"They're like animals," He mumbled to no one in particular as he entered the miraculous Mess Hall of Ezekiel House.

Darius gathered his long blond hair into a proper ponytail and his beautiful sapphire orbs gazed upon the luscious food spread upon the long tables before them.

An abundance of fresh fruits delivered just that morning consisted of grapes, apples, mangoes, pineapples, coconuts, oranges, bananas, and every kind of fruit possibly imaginable. The shimmer of the morning sun through the stained glass windows of the Mess Hall flickered upon the droplets of fresh water that trickled down the fruit.

Ripely picked vegetables were also in abundance, the greenest of all cabbage, the reddest of all tomatoes, and many other healthy vegetables were presented.

Delicate cuts of pork, duck, rabbit, and beef were also presented on silver platters. The steam filtering through the air carried with it a scent of spices lightly scattered upon the meat to give it an exquisite taste worthy of a king.

"The food here never ceases to amaze me," Darius said, fetching him a large slice of pork, a piece of wheat bread, a few apples, grapes, and oranges, and some vegetables.

He carried his plate to a secluded area of the Mess Hall. It was one of those days where Darius Velhart V desired to be in complete solitude. His peers knew him well enough to leave him alone when he was in such a mood, and so he ate his breakfast in silence, occasionally raising his head to observe some of the academy students or gaze up at the beautiful stained-glass windows that depicted stories of glory and honor.

"It's going to be a beautiful day," He murmured quietly to himself.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Nightmare on Sun Mar 11, 2007 5:03 pm

"There!" Zangetsu shouted as he raised his book in the air "I have finally dipicted the Nightmarish Horrors of the morning halls to the Mess Hall!" H e grabbed an orange and a knife to slice it up. If you looked inside the book he had there were several people stomping on other people to get to the Mess Hall, after cutting the orange he sucked the juices from the orange and took up another one.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jader on Sun Mar 11, 2007 5:53 pm

Darius reached into his leather book satchel strapped about his shoulder and pulled a very thick book from its depths entitled: "Advanced War Tactics and Strategies" by Matteo Belarius.

He calmly set the book on the table, flipped to the page where he had bookmarked with an eagle's feather, and began reading. Darius would occasionally break from his study to take a bite out of the piece of pork, or nibble on an apple.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Matthias on Sun Mar 11, 2007 6:35 pm

Dawn broke, bells rang, and students flourished to the Mess Hall for their Breakfast. Like all mornings Sebastian walked into and over to the tables with a slunch. A weary body that knew no sleep, only getting a two to four hours. Such a bad habit to stay up late to practice courses without another student or instructor, but the night is the best time to do such things.

Sebastian stood on tips of toes to peer over the tables, blue pools clearing the items for something particular. Eyes caught sight of a red apple. "Mmm." Right appendage rose to and digits grasped at the sphere. Those blue pools canted in various directions before pulling the apple toward him and leaving the Mess Hall, taking a bite out of his morning feed.

Where could the youngster be going minutes before class started? Why, do the band room of course. Footsteps echoed along the walls, double doors placed before the lad and the left hand reached out, wrapping digits on the extending metal and Sebastian pulled the door open. Pools waved when the sunlight hit them through the window facing the door and there, at first sight was his home, the piano. The apple only had a few bites left and as Sebastian ran to the piano those bites were gone and the apple placed inside pockets.

Sebastian seated himself upright and prompt, the tips of hands hovered inches over the keys. Oh how he smiled, full of excitement and joy. A tongue pressed between teeth and it started; finger tips fell and his orchestra began. A melodic rhythm the started out slow and low before the volume greatened and the rate increased. However, there were a few misplaced keys, but perfection doesn't need to be as long as there is fun. And Sebastian was having fun playing his favorite instrument, even with all his imperfections.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Nightmare on Sun Mar 11, 2007 7:43 pm

Early before Mess Hall was cleared Zangetsu headed out to his class so he didnt end up the character getting stomped on. As he arrived at the location of the next class he sat down and put his back against a wall. he than proceeded to continue a story he had started 2 years ago. A story about a monster with almost unimaginable strength and height. He had arrived before the instructor who was no longer impressed at how early he arrived.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kouketsu on Sun Mar 11, 2007 11:13 pm

Sauntering into the dining room behind the morning pandemonium yet again, walking into that great hall was a sight that Aidan had seen day after day for ten consecutive years and yet every time it still managed to amaze him. Peripheral vision caught the first term students rushing about excitedly, the senior students talking battle strategies or where they were going to travel after graduation, and all manner of voracious teenager tearing into the morning meal. He even managed to catch passing glances of a few female students he always noticed upon walking in, but quickly turned his eyes away and resumed his quick strides, head lowered.

Keeping up his walk, he finally found his way to the line and subsequently to his usual corner spot, his meal sitting atop his textbook, obscuring the words "Fundamental Concepts of Third-Year Composition."

He ate in silence, but did what he always tended to do at mealtimes, watching all the activities and the hustle-and-bustle of the mess hall. People were always so engaged in something, whether it be a fencing spar at one end or a student-formed quartet playing a piece at another end. There were gossips and there were introverts, precisely the layout one would come to expect from any educational institution. But what honestly separated all those students apart from the rest of the academic world was that every single youth in that hall had talent beyond compare.

It took a little imagination to see where some of them excelled. The future politicians, the maestros, the tactical military leaders, the painting prodigies. For as different as they all were, all were linked together in the sole fact that they weren't just good at something, they were brilliant at it in more ways than any of them knew.

Aidan would often spend his hours attempting to match the student with their future or their talent based upon how they looked and how they acted, and if any at all ever saw his predictions, none would be able to recall the last time he had guessed one incorrectly.

"She's a theologian. She has to be. There's no doubt about it." He quietly mumbled to himself and continued plodding through his meal.

He might not have known it then and probably wouldn't know it for the rest of his life, but the girl he spoke those words of eventually did go on to become the leading scribe of the Udorist faith and one of the world's leading authorities on Critical studies.

Perhaps 'brilliant' was an understatement for the academy.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jader on Sun Mar 11, 2007 11:20 pm

Darius' daily activities were soon to begin, and he wolfed down the rest of his breakfast, snapped the book shut, and slipped it into his leather satchel.

"Just another day," He mumbled, knowing he had Fencing II as his first class. It really wasn't the physical aspect of the class that troubled him, but rather doing physical activity at such an early time nearly killed the boy.

"Hi Darius," The voice of a charming female student said in a seductive tone, passing by and winking at him.

Darius instantly turned on the charisma, a beautiful smile crossing his lips as those enticing sapphire orbs flickered a bit.

"Well, hello there, Natasha. Looking beautiful as always," He flirted, receiving a shy giggle from the girl as she flocked away with her peers to gossip about the handsome young man that had just spoken to her.

Ah, what a charming young man.

Darius turned his attention to the silent and subtle Aidan entering, and he gave him a cheerful wave and a bright smile.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Matthias on Sun Mar 11, 2007 11:35 pm

Perhaps Sebastian had misplaced what time it actually was. Or perhaps he got lost within' those single moments he played that it'd seemed like a good hour or so. No matter though, punishment it be if being late meant he could play the piano longer.

Those fingers moved and orchestrated their own flow of notes. To Sebastian it was like an Angel's hymn ringing out for all to hear, if not just him. The tunes could very well reverberate against the walls of the Sparsian Halls. And at times, when the knight was filled with nothing but clashing metal, he'd come here and drown out those senseless conflicts that made youths strive to be the best fighter. This was his for the liking and only his. Who is to say that his work isn't good enough because they don't appreciate it? And so, he continued. Well, until class had to start, but hey, not a bad prep before then.

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Re: Renowned and Revered: The Academy

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lord Saladin on Mon Mar 12, 2007 6:47 am

Arania walked into the dormitories set aside for the girls at the academy. They were considerably smaller than that set aside for the boys, and the beds, according to some of the other students, were a little hard. But to Arania, she was living like a queen. She had a choice of beds, but always slept in the same one, the bed furthest away from the dormitory door, and set in a corner, so that her head and one side of her were against a wall. As she walked to her bed, she pulled off the hood she always wore, the black cloak kept her warm, that was what she told anyone who asked.

However, she knew the real reason she wore it was to ensure no one could see her face and her body. The many years spent on the streets made her weary of strangers, and as she had no friends, everyone was a stranger. She enjoyed it here, knowing that she was relatively safe. "At least no one has tried to pleasure themselves with me whilst I have been here, that has to be something," she thought to herself. As she sat down on the bed, the light of the full moon rested on her face, her smooth, small features seeming to glow in the pale moonlight. Her dark hair, brown, and yet appearing nearly black, looked decidedly jet in this light, her brown eyes seemed to shine also. she took off her cloak and revealed a long, cotton dress, black in colour and worn with the hem sewed up to under her chin, and the flowing dress falling to her ankles. Although plain, it suited her very well, and although designed to conceal her body, it did hug very tight to her slim, young form.

"Well, I'm allowed to look nice, after so long in rags," she thought to herself, as she took the dress off and placed on her night clothes, a loose fitting shirt and trousers. Searching through her dress, she took out the small, ivory hilted dagger she had pilfered from one merchant who thought she was easy meat. For many years, that dagger had served her well, acting as her second line of defense against the many thieves, murderers and undesirables she had to deal with. "I would get into sooo much trouble if they found out I still had this" she said to herself out loud, her voice almost musical, except for the distinctive emptiness there, and the sadness that seared her voice was enough to send any man into a state of sobbing.

As she sat there, on the bed, she thought to herself out loud, "I'm happy here, it's a good place. I'm learning and I'm warm every night, have food to eat three times a day, and I'm not being attacked two or three times a night either. I know you would be proud of me mummy, and you too daddy. I don't know where you are, but I have a feeling you can see me. If you can, just come and say hello once, I want to show you how much I'm learning". Tears started to fall down her cheeks, splashing onto the tiled floor of the dormitory. As she lay down on the bed, she placed the dagger under the thin pillow she rested her head upon whilst asleep. Taking the other pillow, she wrapped her slim, pale arms around it, curling into a ball, she faced the wall, her back to the door that would give either entry or exit to her dormitory.

As she laid on the bed, the thick blanket on top of her and the pillow wrapped in her arms, she tried her best to see again the faces of her parents, just to remember their faces for even an instant. Her body began to shake as the violence of her sobbing reverberated through her entire body, and the sound echoed throughout the empty dormitory, the sad, heartbreaking sound, no longer a stranger for walls of this room, for they had heard the same sound every night for the almost year Arania had been at the academy. Slowly, Arania began to fall into a deep sleep, however, as she entered that stage of sleep where you are still aware whilst sleeping, the images reappeared in her mind, as they had done every night for longer than the child could remember, of the man who first promised he would take care of her. And as she slept, the experiences of that time were played over to her again and again, as though she was once again there, in that house, with that man, once feeling the pain deep inside her as he, not content in taking away her innocence, ripped it from her in the cruelest manner. And so her sleep was restless, and the walls were kept company with Arania's sleeping cries and screams of fear and pain.
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tarskius on Mon Mar 12, 2007 8:04 pm

Raziel rarely had trouble getting through the scores of rather vicious students stampeding their way to the Mess Hall. This morning that proved to be even more true, it seemed almost as if everyone in the school knew when his mood was foul. Maybe it was the incident with those kids last night. Damn...news travels quick, he mused. The thought slipped from his mind though as he made the short trip to his first class and settled in for the soon to be coming lecture. He expected to get into trouble everyday; despite mostly keeping to himself, he did speak up in class occasionally but it was generally just insulting the teacher or another student, though he never meant to. The boy simply lacked tactful mannerisms, it wasn't his fault he'd been raised with no-one to tell him any better. "Oh hell, I hope today is better at not sucking than yesterday."

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Alucroas on Tue Mar 13, 2007 12:15 pm

Yet another wave of abundance and everlasting joy had brought him down that same familiar flight of stairs once more. Never ceasing to caress most people with that half apathetic and yet seemingly laid back care-free individual. The clamoring sounds of those Egyptian golden boots, clanking against the marble staircases, darting down the stairs -- "Late again, Zied....!?" His head merely canted down and laughed at the inquiry made by one of his fellow students.

"You should expect it from me. But I wouldn't go teasing if I were you...History shows that when it comes to reaction time in fencing I always beat you by a few nano-seconds."

His relatively balanced out physique somewhat stood out due to the white pirate's style sleeveless shirt he wore. Those cobalt strands dangled infront of his auburn optics, obscuring his vision for just a few seconds. "Guess, I could use a good hair-cut." He said to himself rather nonchalantly.

However a laugh came from his parted lips as he gazed at the food in bliss. "I won't have any hair if I don't start chowin' down, though!." Immediately he rushed over to the food, aiming to scarf as much as he could.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kouketsu on Thu Mar 15, 2007 6:32 pm

Aidan canted his head upwards and offered Darius his most honest attempt at being sociable, which amounted to little more than a wry half-smile and slightly illuminated eyes semi-visible beneath a disorganized jumble of deep brown strands. One couldn't fault the lad for trying, but it would probably be an eternity before he overcame both his shyness and that subsequent social awkwardness.

"H-h-hi." His mumbled timidly, little change given to his expression aside from a subtle hint of elation at actually getting spoken to, if even for just an instant, without having some jeer or sudden prank follow it. He appreciated it.

But his disposition certainly wouldn't allow him to maintain decent eye contact with anyone other than an instructor for more than a few seconds at most. His sight immediately shifted back to his meal and the overwhelming hall of peers that were still enjoying their meals. First session was going to be starting soon and fortunately for Aidan, he caught word already sneaking around the tables in the hall that the Critical Analysis of Civilization & Man professor was going to be out with an illness today, which was more than enough good news to hold him over for a few hours.

"No Civ' courses today? I wonder who's going to be taking Vainwright's place." He was already figuring on a senior student filling in, although for as much as he utterly despised the normal instructor, the only way any half-decent discussion came about was with him there berating people into speaking. Overall it wasn't much for the youth to worry himself witless about. There was even possibility that he could get some further reading done with an open hour.

After consuming a portion of food small enough that even a field mouse would starve on it, Aidan gathered his things as students were already filing out to whatever business they needed attend to.

"First session. Civ' studies. O' Gaius save us all.." He waited patiently to walk behind rows of boisterous students with no care about what poor soul they crushed in exiting towards the day before them, his head lowered. Every day at Sparsian seemed to offer another trying episode.

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Kouketsu
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