Madison Lewis Lovette's Story

'So it begins.'

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

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

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

Speaking of that-

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

Norrevinters.
No mistaking those.

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

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

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




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

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

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

"Are we boring you already, Kingsley?"

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

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

"Oh..no! No Professor! I was just um...is it breakfast time?"
Apparently only just realising how many others had entered the cafeteria, the student known as 'Kingsley' looked over to the table across, giving a rather sheepish smile.

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

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

Jesse sat in the back of the bus as it chugged up to the school. Her peers were chatting in front of her, but she mostly kept to herself. Some had animals with them in cages, some of which looked intently in her direction. She tried not to draw attention to it though. She knew these people would be like every other person she had encountered. She would most certainly be ostracized if they knew about animals' affinity towards her.

She was the last one off the bus, purposefully of course. She took in the surroundings. The school was definitely unique. She read the sign: Marchand School of Sorcery. Was she in the wrong place? She knew the school was called Marchand, but the only place she had heard of sorcery was in storybooks. Everyone was filing into the cafeteria, though, so if she was to ask someone about it, she would have to go there. She took a deep breath, and followed her fellow students into the building. She looked around. Many places had already been taken. There seemed to be a nice place in the corner away from most people, except one girl who seemed confused. She supposed one person was better than being surrounded by them, so she went over to that table and quietly sat down.

She took some pancakes awkwardly, before saying, sheepishly, "Hi, I'm Jesse," and extending out a hand.

The neat, decisive click of heels against tile was hardly something to bat an eye at, nor was the appearance of another figure in the cafeteria’s doorway, surveying the situation with little visible surprise. In the face of the other teachers’ fairly notable appearances, Professor Lovette’s was fairly...well, mundane as he strode in, joining the small assembly his coworkers had formed within the lunchroom.

That is, if one was unable to determine the teacher’s gender, and didn't come to the appropriate realization that the combined Pyromancy/Theory had decided to go to work today in a freshly ironed business dress and lipstick.

As he crossed the last few steps to reach his fellow professors, a slight, easy smile touched his lips, and he began to eye the students more fully from this new position. “Now, let’s not go scaring them off right from the get-go.” Madison’s voice did little to help discern his sex- mellow and soft, much like the instructor himself. “It is their first day, after all, and they might not recognize their teachers immediately.”

Madison turned, then, facing the crowd fully. “With that said, however, while the food was indeed intended for you, from what I gathered, the reason Professor Kovalenko performed this little exercise was because quite a few of you were not paying attention to Professor Montana, or choosing to ignore him. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt for today and believe that you hadn’t heard or noticed him, but in the future, I expect everyone to pay full attention when any instructor speaks to them- regardless of whether or not they have a class with said teacher.”

He paused a moment, waiting for the last remaining heads to face him, then went on. “Here at Marchand, we will operate under a system of mutual respect. I understand that for many of you, this is a brand new experience, and you might already have begun to form differing opinions on us. However, as Professor Kovalenko pointed out, you will be staying here until the end of your semesters. It will make things much easier for all of us if you simply follow the rules put upon you, and stay reasonably polite throughout the year. In return, I’m sure that several of us will be much more agreeable.”

At the last word, another change in temperature swept through the cafeteria- unlike the frigid breeze which had announced the Aquamancy teacher, however, this one was pleasantly warm as it passed through the room. The glitter of ice that had coated the plates and bottles melted, the meals reheated- save for a pile of frozen stuffs scattered across the floor. Much easier to clean up than melted syrups and the like.

“Now, then. I would like to introduce myself as Professor Lovette- while I am the Pyromancy teacher, I also happen to teach Magical Theory, so you will be having me regardless of whatever magic you control. I ask that you all finish your meals as quickly as possible, tidy up, then grab your things and follow me to the library for an assembly. If you continue to have private conversations and stay here instead, keep in mind that I will not stand in the way of any punishments that might come as a result.”

He stood silently for a moment, assessing the crowd of students before him, before suddenly tapping away to one of the small alcoves within the cafeteria. Madison lingered there for a moment before leaving, walking to one of the tables instead of his previous spot in the center.

“Here.” Smiling gently, Madison propped a broom and dustpan against the table, allowing it to be grabbed by whoever wished to do so- seeing as the maker of the mess seemed a bit too rattled to hold the objects without dropping them. “Once you finish cleaning up, just put them back in the closet.” With that, he spun on his heel, and returned to his old position to wait.

As the Cryomancy-wielding Professor ceased her (slightly alarming) presentation, Dawn remained the picture of an attentive student- back straight, eyes focused, fingers wrapped around the edges of the table to keep from busying themselves with some other action. Quietly, however, she found herself noting just how...well, unique this bunch of teachers seemed. While she was in no real place to speak on the matter of public education- having been tutored at home ever since she could hold a pencil- she hadn’t been expecting for the teachers to freeze their food as a method of getting attention. Or make it seem like she had spilled milk all over the papers as a test. Or, in the case of the blue gloved stranger, speak in a vaguely cryptic manner.

But if they had truly been appointed by the Eight Powers, then as the professor had said, there was nothing to be done about it. Besides- if they had gotten their authority from such a high place, then they must have been chosen for a reason. So she sat silently and waited, then glanced back at her company once the dialogue was finished.

“So, Larke, huh?” She pressed her back against the chair, smiling slightly. Tessa’s excitement really was infectious. “He’s definitely cute. I, um, do agree with Desi, though- be careful with him, okay? He’s got a bit of a reputation of being a heartbreaker.”

As Tover returned, Mitch in tow, Dawn scooted her chair over a bit, making a bit more legroom for the new member of the table. “Well, I’d say we’ve fulfilled our minimum quota for feminine interactions for the day. We just need to have a few words about high heels and miniskirts later, and we’ll be set.” She said nothing of the short burst Mitch gave, acting as she hadn’t heard it. Instead, she returned the smile (although she doubted it would be seen) and waited for the others to introduce themselves.

“I’m Dawn,” she said simply. “It’s good to meet you and, ah...” Her eyes wandered over to the purple insect creature that had jumped onto the table. “Sorry, um. Does your summon have a name? I know some people don’t like giving them names, so I don’t want to, um, make assumptions or anything.”

She didn’t bother moving her plate out of the way when Apple trotted along, snapping up what was left of her food. It was mostly just a mess of frozen syrup and crumbs at this point, anyway, so it wasn’t too great a loss.

Shortly after Desi had explained who she was texting, she had risen, and began to ask some (very good, in her opinion) questions from the professors. The Cryomancing teacher gave her very blunt response, and before the exchange could continue, another teacher had entered- another woman, by her appearance and the way she held herself. This professor- who introduced herself as Lovette- was a bit more...gentle in how she explained things, and went on to request that everyone finished up and prepared to leave.

“Well,” Dawn turned to the rest of the group, “I’m guessing they won’t be asking us twice.” She gave a soft sigh, gave a mildly sheepish smile, and gathered up her things. She made sure to check the map before putting it away- the library was just across the hall, which wouldn’t be too hard to remember.

---

Upon seeing several of the students get to their feet, Madison beamed, pleased, and walked to the cafeteria’s entrance. “This way, everyone,” he chirped, casting a look over his shoulder to make sure nobody was planning on wandering off (unlikely, given the fact that most of them wouldn’t know where to go anyway, but still a possibility) before pressing forth.

To say that the library was a bit “large” would have been a severe understatement- while it was only one floor high, it certainly made good use of the space provided. Shelves lined the walls, appearing full to bursting with various novellas and tomes despite taking up most visible wall space. Even with just a passing glance, one could easily tell that the bookshelves managed to reach the ceiling- made accessible by a winding of stairs that extended to a sort of balcony of sorts, where one could both browse and look down at the people below as they did so. Beside the staircase itself were a pair of smaller shelves stacked with magazines and newspapers, respectively.

Positioned around the room so as to not get in the way of any visitors were a collection of small tables, desks, and chairs, which were clear of any and all objects or debris- save for the occasional desktop computers here and there, and a collection of papers clipped together on the receptionist’s table. Both floor and walls were composed of some sort of polished, rosy wood (walnut, perhaps), although the floor was also partially hidden as well by a wine red rug. Cone shaped lamps provided a warm light easy on the eyes, and the smell of paper and ink was fresh in the air.

Overall, it was rather welcoming.

“Here we are-” Professor Lovette was cut short by the sight of two certain other coworkers. He paused, face lighting up with something as warm as the library glow- albeit somewhat restrained. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop the genuine smile that spread across his face.

“Hello, Professors Byrne, Schippers.” Then, to the latter, “It’s good to see you. I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting settled?”

And that was all that professionalism would allow for the time being.

Turning to face the gathering of children once more, Madison clapped his hands together, gathering any attention that might have gotten to roving around the new area. “Anyway. If you would all please take your seats- the assembly will be starting very soon.”

---

Dawn’s gaze had been among the crowd that had started to drift about, drinking in the environment with wide eyes. Just like the exterior of the building, the place held a certain class to it. The decorations were lovely, and while she wasn’t quite able to see the spines of the books surrounding them, that didn’t change the sheer number of the things lined up everywhere. She took little time in settling herself into one of the larger tables set up around the room, and, setting her bags beside her chair, waited for the teachers to begin.

And also continued her little perusal of the place, of course.

The ground had cracked with frost under every step. Tover was glad to sit, even if the hungry cold clung to his clothes where he did. He’d appreciated Mitch’s ”It’s good to meet you, Tover Book,” though he mentally stumbled over all of the tidbits she threw out. Just Mitch, would definitely do.

Her sudden snap made him straighten his back almost defensively; he didn’t think he’d done anything. The sudden burst was self-explanatory when she defended her Apple, who was currently making a buffet out of the frozen food section the cafeteria had become. ”You can talk to me, and not him. You don’t tell him what to do,” Mitch had immediately turned an unhealthy shade of red. ”Not that meant that like- Um. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be like… Like that. It’s just that he’s an. Um... With service animals, it’s um. You’re supposed to treat them like they’re part of the handler, so. Um.”

Tover half raised his left hand in defeat and understanding, forgetting the gesture was moot, but the reflex was there regardless. His voice was fairly soft as he spoke. ”Part of the handler. No worries Mitch. Thanks for the heads up.”
He didn’t know the ins and outs of service animals, and it wasn’t beyond him to miss something obvious. Still, he appreciated the heads up just as much as the kind greeting.

”Sorry” She’d said. Tover shook his head with barest of motion.
”Don’t be. He’s precious to you. Nothing wrong with defending what's important. That was a kindness from you, not a demerit. I didn't know, and you filled me in. Thank you for the clarity, I appreciate that trait in a friend.” He would have continued softly speaking, but bounciest of bubble voices dropped on in like a child into a ball-pit.

It’s hard to miss Tessa. Her voice stands out like a violin at a piano gathering.
"Oh welcome back Tov, girl talk went well but my milk was a causality of the frost." Tov nodded at the general state of the table. Looks like there were plenty of casualties to Kovalenko’s baby fimbulwinter ""Heya I'm Tessa, it is nice to meet you and your summon! Is that the thing that they mistook for an alien in Roswell or was that another summon?"

The alien from Roswell? Really? He’d stick his nose into that when there was time to do so later, and the comfort to actually bring it up. Right now, it was lean and wait. Maybe consider trying how ice cube tea w… nevermind. Ice cube tea was for another time, because then there was Desi, fueling the coldfire with the anti-demure of a high-class lady that found a crease in her dress.

The conversation he'd mostly not overheard had seemed pleasant up to that point. Maybe he just misheard her tone, looking over dawn's shoulder to better catch the rest of what Moore was up to.

He saw her partially. She poked at a frozen pancake with a finger, then snatched it away as Apple started to eat their frozen foodstuffs. For being such a fluffy little thing, he had one hell of an appetite; the table was going to be clean before anything unthawed at this rate. ”It’s not going to taste anything like it was supposed to and it’ll be cold. All the preparation and ingredients that went into making it are wasted, and there are people starving in this world. I’m sorry for “assuming” except I wasn’t, as the schedule clearly says there’s a buffet breakfast for students beginning at 8 a.m. and it’s past that time, and there was no announcement saying it was postponed for any reason. That said, I’m honored to be here and to be learning from such distinguished teachers. Thank you, I just don’t like food being wasted.” Desi smoothed her skirt primly, folded her hands in her lap, and was looked at in utter disbelief by what he hoped was more than just his own aghast face.

Is this the dynamic? Is this how it’s going to be here? He could have sworn Professor K just made as icy of a point as she reasonably could have without doing harm.

Wait. No way that wasn’t going to cause backlash.

Was Kovalenko going to r.. yes. Madam Antarctica turned towards their table and seemed to address Desi directly. By her last name first no less? Did the staff already know all the students then? Minor disadvantage. Some color drained from his face regardless.

"Moore, in the spirit of making things completely clear on the first day, I will endeavor to explain things as clearly as I possibly can.

Confusion. That wasn’t expected. A light frown passed over his brows, having expected a Russian winter to hug them with all the gentility of a zealous aunt that secretly didn’t like you, but then not secretly.

"Firstly. Anyone concerned for the waste and potential offence to the catering staff is welcome to carry on eating it for subsequent meals for as long as they like. I can assure that I've eaten far worse things in my career than cold pancakes and I seem to still be alive, so I'm sure the minor discomfort will mean nothing in light of your lofty principles regarding food usage.

Secondly, the schedule is your notice to be there, not your permission to start.

Thirdly, the food was not frozen due to people eating before they were permitted; it was frozen because people had not acknowledged that a staff member was addressing them. Paying attention to everything we say may seem trivial to you right up until the point someone sets another student on fire or rips their arm clean off the shoulder breaking a shadow step too early, but at that point it'll be too late to learn the value.

Another frown. Staff member. Did she mean that mumbling janitor in the suit from earlier? If he wanted people to pay attention to him, grumbling through the halls like a disgruntled Santa that didn’t want his elves to hear him was not the way to go. That wasn’t the interesting bit.

He muffle spoke to himself. ”Breaking SS too early can do that? Not comforting to hear since he liked the idea of that one. He half-remembered it was that same teacher who thought the course. For now, he’d keep cool around Oren. He hadn’t expected SS to have dangers like that. Best to not grievance a teacher you need, if SS was the secondary he’d stick with. Orientation classes first.

"And finally, I'm glad you're pleased to be here, as we're set to be dealing with all of you until the end of the school year, and there is no higher authority to appeal to. Just as parents on the council are not going to win you any special privileges, parents on staff are not either.

I think the American idiom for it would be 'my way or the highway'. "

Tover slunk back down into previous nonchalance. There it is. That’s the edge he expected. All is well with the world… Sort of. He didn’t mind that last part, but he neither expected his family to offer him a shred of help at this point, nor had council connections. He shrugged the thought away, apparently there was more to the show.

Someone new.
Tover peeled his folder back open. Based roughly on the picture..

Madison Lewis Lovette
Professor of Pyromancy and Magical Theory.

A song of Ice and Fire then? He looked at the side cover just to check that the packet author wasn’t G.R.R.M. Relief~ All good. Though there seemed to be a typo in the packet. All the pronouns for this teacher were male. He eased up to see a person in a dress, probably a typo.

“With that said, however, while the food was indeed intended for you, from what I gathered, the reason Professor Kovalenko performed this little exercise was because quite a few of you were not paying attention to Professor Montana, or choosing to ignore him. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt for today and believe that you hadn’t heard or noticed him, but in the future, I expect everyone to pay full attention when any instructor speaks to them- regardless of whether or not they have a class with said teacher.”

Enthusiastic nodding followed. Not noticing him was nail-to-coffin accurate. His teeth clenched at the latter bit of her words. Mm. He felt something that must have been akin to Desi’s discomfort with the food situation. He was most definitely –not- falling in line to just obey authority like that. Bad mouth-taste.

Here at Marchand, we will operate under a system of mutual respect. I understand that for many of you, this is a brand new experience, and you might already have begun to form differing opinions on us. However, as Professor Kovalenko pointed out, you will be staying here until the end of your semesters. It will make things much easier for all of us if you simply follow the rules put upon you, and stay reasonably polite throughout the year. In return, I’m sure that several of us will be much more agreeable.”

A nod of actual approval left him this time. Alright. Better. That gives the chance for respect to properly accrue rather than it being demanded and the whole thing falling into a mess that was as consistently organized as the words found in letter-soup. Easier to follow the rules? Shrugged off. Reasonably polite..? Good wording. Worth a shot, especially if the agreeability of the teachers depended on it.

Did it just get warmer?

His attention darted from plate to plate. It was warmer. Meals steamed and morning drinks bubbled. He spent enough time in a kitchen to know what was up. A macro-effect? These teachers were god-damn demigods with their abilities to both cover such a large area and invoke the precision to only direct-affect non-students. For being such a soft-spoken person, Madison had oomph.

Tover blinked. That had gone too well.

Would anyone have taken Madison seriously, with that gentle voice and warming speech, had Kovalenko not slid in and sharply cracked an ice cube down the blackboard? No. That was a clever tactical move just there. Bad cop good cop in teacher format. Madison’s warmth is effective because Kovalenko made people think they were on a cliff. Not bad.

“Now, then. I would like to introduce myself as Professor Lovette- while I am the Pyromancy teacher, I also happen to teach Magical Theory, so you will be having me regardless of whatever magic you control. I ask that you all finish your meals as quickly as possible, tidy up, then grab your things and follow me to the library for an assembly. If you continue to have private conversations and stay here instead, keep in mind that I will not stand in the way of any punishments that might come as a result.”

Tover was up.
Food abandoned.
He wasn’t going to say a thing about the broom.

He liked Madison. Always a pleasant start, and as added bonus, he’d been looking forward to magical theory. That someone whose voice didn’t grate him taught it was definitely not a complaint. Though, he was confused about its gender. Something for later he thought, hearing dawn speak, his attention turning.

“Well, I’m guessing they won’t be asking us twice.” Tover didn’t have to say a word for his face to reflect that he was of a similar opinion. His hands slunk into his pockets as his eyes darted from Dawn, to Tessa, to Desi, to Mitch, and finally to Apple. Who did not seem to care in the slightest about food-temperature while doing his best vacuum impression. He looked away from the voracious eater and back to the group.

He had tried not to interrupt while the others at the table had been talking to one another. Since this seemed like a point of transition though, now was a good time.

I’d rather not find out on day one what happens if they have to, no. Library it is. Tover did a quick count while moving his fingers, dropping his arm back to his side after. Dawn, Tess, Mitch, Me, Des. That’s five. Pretty sure we’ll find a spot with five open chairs. He was going to make a special mention for Mitch that they’d keep her a chair open, but realized he’d already included her in the count. She already had a spot, you didn’t ditch someone you just invited, and he didn’t feel like making her eye-thing a big deal. She had her own ways of getting things done; he’d let her do her unless she mentioned otherwise.

If something came up on the brisk walk, he’d be conversational.

For a one-floor-high library. They sure seemed to have doctor-who’d the place with the amount of stuff they crammed into it. The balcony bits caught his eyes first. Things he liked had a tendency to do that, Tover’s grey eyes following the curve of the stairs down to the rest of the Alexandrian knowledge repository. Let’s hope this one didn’t burn.

“Anyway. If you would all please take your seats- the assembly will be starting very soon.”

He’d not be surprised if they split a little during the walk, and joined up with Dawn at the larger table. Tover pulled an extra chair from a different one so it could seat five. He sat down at the head, which was really just the thin side of the rectangular table. Mostly because he liked the front row, it was easier to listen and read small text on blackboards. He placed his own bag under his chair after scooting in, and equally got a little lost looking around. There was just a lot to take in, waving over people in between trying not to be impressed with the forest of paper.

"Oh--hi, Professor Byrne," said Toby, relieved to see her familiar face, despite the mild discomfort that never quite seemed to leave the room when she visited. She was like your average weird nonbiological aunt. A weird nonbiological aunt who happened to know you through your possibly-a-murderer brother.

"It will be good to have a Mr. Schippers around... Um. Not like that."
Toby's smile got a little strained at that more than sufficient bit of awkwardness, but he tried to wave it off with a laugh.

"A refreshingly unremarkable Mr. Schippers," he reassured her. Or maybe it was an apology.

Before he could go on, another familiar face entered the room. Aside from Maeve, Toby hadn't seen much of the rest of Spire's team since the trials, but Madison had reached out to him a fair handful of times, and one didn't easily forget someone as colorful and kind as Madison. "Hello--Professor Lovette," he said. And to answer both of their questions, "I--g--got settled just fine. And I've been good. Doing really well."

Truly, he felt lucky. Of all the professors he had met before, these two frightened him the least. It could have been Montana, or Kovalenko, or Avalon. The fact that he met Maeve and Madison first, in the library, surrounded by the calming smell of old paper, seemed like a good omen. He had a good feeling about the coming year.

Soon the flood of students began pressing into the library. "Catch up later?" Toby said as he quickly took a seat at the front of the room, because he really, really didn't want any of the students to make the same mistake the receptionist had. He sat up straight and thought professorly thoughts.

Silence.
Shout.
Lock.
Wall.
Dry.
Break.

Rei Farran stood back to admire her work, paintbrush in one hand and haphazard jar of very carefully-mixed acrylic in the other hand.

For reasons that would quickly make themselves evident, it was not a good idea to use actual blood to make a chart of blood sigils.

But if nothing else Rei liked attention to detail.

Full of nervous energy, the young instructor had spent her time since her arrival frantically preparing materials in the small room where she was to hold her classes.
A chart covering the basic blood sigils. A diagram of an easy, compact summoning circle for basic users, several sheets on plant and rock types.

She was feeling pretty well prepared.

That was a lie.

Professor Farran was rather acutely aware of the fact that she didn't really get teenagers when she was one, so getting them when she was (supposedly) an adult was going to be even more... interesting.

Still, when the council staff offered you a job, you took it up.

A quick glance at the clock. A look of concern crossed the pale face of the youngest professor at Marchand.
Assembly started right about now.
Judgement Day.

Moments later the young woman was hurrying along the corridor toward the library, trying to cover ground as briskly as she could without breaking into a run and potentially ruining the (slightly limited) gravitas she possessed.

The Professor was, at least, quite distinct in her appearance.
Dressed in black, her white skin and long, silver hair stood out quite solidly, a mark of a family that was, increasingly, rare to see around. Partial albinism and bright green eyes had long been a mark of the Farrans. But you'd be hard pushed to see one around these days. Much like a leucistic animal, it seemed like the pale Farrans didn't survive all that long in the wild.

So it was, perhaps, not all that surprising that Reinhilde Farran didn't really know a great deal about who she was going to be working with. Well, other than by reputation. Quite a few had been involved in the big civil war....but then, nearly all of that generation had in some sense. Still, the combat record between them was pretty impressive. Pretty terrifying. It was an awfully high standard to live up to. There was 'quite good at magic' and there was 'have killed people with magic' and they were pretty far apart.

The instructor stepped into the library to see some of the staff were already there. (Well she did, at least, assume that the young man was staff rather than student, others clearly were.) She had paused for a moment, hesitating as she attempted to work out some kind of greeting that would sound professional.

Unfortunately with students quickly filling the space there was very little she could think of to say that would not sound enormously awkward in front of the kids, so the youngest professor dropped into a staff seat and hoped that the rest of them would know that she was supposed to be there.

Jesse smiled at Esperanza, still rubbing her head, which was forming a huge bump.

Yeah I'm fine! This happens all the time.

A professor entered the room very sternly and gave a reprimanding speech on how everyone was eating before the professors said to. Well, they should have communicated that! She was just following what everyone else was doing. Then Professor Kovalenko froze all the food. Luckily, she had already finished eating, but she saw Esperanza's fruit juice turn to ice. She didn't hear the rest of the speech. How did she do that? Jesse was only 14, so she hadn't had advanced sciences yet, but either this was one big trick that defied the laws of physics as she knew them or she used magic. Magic????

She sat there stunned with her jaw dropped for a few minutes. Another professor started to speak, but she didn't hear much. She heard the words "pyromancy" and "magical theory". Did her parents send her to the right place? Are they sure they didn't mean a different Marchand? Then that professor did something that was equally as impressive as the first. She melted the food right back to its original state. The pancakes were steaming and she had kept the fruit juice to where it had ice cubes in it. Jesse was in a state of shock. She could not figure out how they had done that. She did hear though, that they were going to the library after they ate. She had to ask someone about this. She had to figure out which Marchand she was supposed to be at, because it definitely wasn't this one. Her parents would have told her if she was a "sorcerer", right?

It took a few minutes for her to come back to reality. She pinched herself. It hurt. No, this wasn't a dream.

She quickly stood up, still a little dizzy from when she hit her head.

I'll, um... see you guys later ok?

She ran out of the dining hall in the direction of the library, not waiting for a response.

She stopped after she was a ways out of the dining hall and stopped to catch her breath. Maybe she was hallucinating. She had to be. If she was, all the more reason to find an adult. She looked at her map to figure out where the library was in relation to where she was standing. It wasn't too far away, she had luckily ran in the right direction. She found the library about five minutes later, and went straight up to the professor who had melted the food. She seemed a little friendlier than Professor Kovalenko.

Um, Professor Lovette? I think I'm in the wrong place. The school looks like it's a school for sorcery, which apparently exists, since, you know, Professor Kovalenko froze all the food and you melted it back, but I don't think I'm a sorcerer. I mean, my parents were normal people and I went to normal grade school. They did tell me I was supposed to be at Marchand though, so I'm really confused. Is there some kind of sorcerer test or something? Why would my parents send me here if they didn't think I was one, or even know it existed? Am I crazy? Am I hallucinating this? Should I go to the hospital?

She said all of this very quickly, and while it started quietly, it got louder toward the end. She was definitely panicking at this point. Maybe it was just a magic trick, an illusion to trick them all, or a hallucination. She sure hoped so.

Desi: Soft, but proper. With an edge. She had tried to backtalk Kovalenko. Her father would hear about this.
Tessa: Sweet, bouncy, and somehow “pink” sounding. Like cotton candy fresh out of a machine.
Dawn: Kind, but in a mellow sort of way. Composed. Reasonable. Probably voted least likely to accidentally offend.

Their names were logged alongside their voices in Mitch’s mind, with a small
asterisk noting to place them in a flashcard deck for review at the end of the day.

“Dawn, Tessa, Desi, Tover,” she repeated back with a smile, pointing (quite impressively) close to where each designated speaker was sitting. “I’m. Um. It’s nice to meet you all. I really appreciate you understanding, too, Tover. Um. It’s nice to have people get that and… Oh! Yeah. He’s called Apple. And he isn’t the one from the Roswell incident, but he came from the same plane as the— Stoppit, you!” Mitch said, reaching across toward the rattling slurps and Tessa’s call of distress to scoop Apple up and pull him away.

Apple was not aware that anyone was reaching for him, and did not flinch from the touch as he snarfed up one more crumb from the Black-Haired-Good-Smell-Thing’s plate. He did, however, give out a pathetic bleat of protest at being lifted off the table by his midsection, and another whine at being placed into the lap of the Bad-Eyes-Good-Pets friend.

How she managed to find where he was sitting even with her bad eyes was beyond Apple, but he did not struggle. The last time he had, she had stumbled back and ended up falling.

Making the Bad-Eyes friend fall was not what good Apples did. With one more creaking-squeal, he conceded to rest his head against her thigh and pick the crumbs from his fur with his inner jaws.

“Sorry about that,” Mitch said, one hand resting on Apple’s back to be sure that he did not stand up again. “He’s usually much better behaved than this. It’s just been a kinda long day coming over the pond, and—”

At the sound of Professor Kovalenko speaking back to Desi, Mitch’s voice dropped off. She hung her head in shame-by-association for having sat down at a table mid-teacher conflict, and busied her hands with adjusting Apple’s harness. But then, just as quickly as Kovalenko had chilled the room, another voice filled the space with an aura that seemed to draw attention like flies to honey.

A toasty current passed by, and Apple rolled over in Mitch’s lap to bask in the sudden, pleasant change of temperature.

Mitch added Professor Lovette to her mental file: Gentle, direct, and warm.

And leading them all out of the room. She smiled at Tover’s mention of her name in the count, and made a quick effort to follow. Someone was including her, by default, as a friend.

As the bodies started moving, Mitch gave Apple the click-cue sound, and he (being the Best Apple) obediently slithered to the floor and began his very good job of walking her along with the crowd to the library. As they went, she paid little heed to the conversation, taking in far more crucial information: Counting steps, listening for acoustic changes in the hallway along their route- storing all of the needed information on how to move from the cafeteria to the library on her own.

When they arrived, Mitch knew it.

The room was gentle and squishy- all wood and carpet and pages that ate up the bouncing ping of footfalls and chatter. It smelled like ink and binding glue, with a hint of warm paper that gave away the presence of a printer somewhere around. She followed the noise of Tover and the others as Lovette asked them to sit, running a hand along the chair backs until she found one empty and settled into it.

Apple, being well aware of this “class” business, curled himself up around Mitch’s ankles and prepared himself for a nap of considerable length.

Seraph felt like he was the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland screaming "I am late! I am late! The queen will have my head!"

Seraph hated being late but there was nothing he could do about it. His parents had known that he was to start school today but they misunderstood the actual time that he had to be there. It wasn't until they all looked at the registrar again this morning that they realized that Seraph had to be at school an hour earlier than they had assumed. So, his father had all but thrown his son's luggage and backpack in the car. Hell, he practically threw Seraph into the car to get him there faster. Seraph wasn't the fastest thanks to his short stature and he couldn't keep up with his father's long strides.

And if Seraph hadn't been filled with trepidation about starting a new school where he knew absolutely no one, he sure was terrified now. The 14 year old mage hoped that the professors wouldn't be mad at him for being late or single him out or anything. He highly doubted he'd make any friends that way. The young mage fussed with his dark strands, twining the threads in a nervous habit and tried to cover his face.

"Chin up, Seraph. Everything is going to be fine. Why don't you push your hair away from your face? How are you going to make friends if you hide yourself that way?" his dad commented then.

"I'll be fine Dad..." he murmured though he did as requested and pushed the long bangs behind his ear. They didn't stay long however and started to fall forward again as he moved. Now that his face was visible, the long elaborate tattoos of his house were visible down the left side of his face and vanished beneath his collar. The pentagrams on both hands hinted that the lines didn't end on his face. The aquamancer's blue eyes lit up when they finally reached the school however and he was practically vibrating in his seat. He really was excited and terrified all in one go. The butterflies were doing back-flips in his stomach.

Seraph and his father hurried out of the car and the man followed his son into the school and to the receptionist. Seraph accepted all the papers and information then and looked over it quickly.

"The assembly should have moved to the library by now," the receptionist informed them.

"Thank you," Mr. Lanchestor said and turned to see Seraph already ahead of him. "Seraph! Wait!"

"Dad! I am late! I can get there!" he called back.

Mr. Lanchestor sighed and placed his hands on his hips and watched as Seraph tried to run with his bag and luggage. The little thing kept tripping over the luggage. His father shook his head. "Stop running! You'll fall! Love you, call us tonight!"

"Love you! I will!" he yelled before he rounded the corner to hurry on his way. He loved his parents but he really didn't want to be the kid that showed up with their parents. He didn't want to get laughed at or have to deal with teasing. He could do this; he could make it to where he needed to go himself.

And like his father predicted, he did end up tripping thanks to the weight of the luggage and hit the ground. The clumsy thing picked himself up and continued to hurry though he tried not to run at this point. And unfortunately, Seraph got lost. The map wasn't all too clear to him and he went in a circle at one point and gave an exasperated sigh. The teachers were really going to hate him. He hoped he wasn't missing important information at least. He didn't want to be the one student that asked a question the teachers had already explained. Overall, it seemed like Seraph's first day was far more stressful than he would have liked.

At last, Seraph made it to the library. He maneuvered his bags a bit so he could open the door quietly and peeked inside. He could see that there were a lot of people here. There were so many students! And they were talking and just sitting down. He gave a sigh of relief. It looked like he wasn't missing much instruction after all. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down and to simply catch his breath from his half running and jogging and entered the library. He looked around at the students who were all... much bigger than he was. Was there anyone his age here at all? He did see one girl talking to a professor that seemed to be about his age. She was the only one that wasn't taller than he was. He didn't want to butt in though. Maybe he should start off somewhere small... somewhere where there wasn't a lot of people to deal with. He needed something small to kind of... work his way in.

Seraph scanned the room and his eyes settled on a person that was currently sitting by himself. That was a good start. He swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat before he made his way over to the table and smiled. "G-good morning. Do you mind if I um, sit here?" he asked then. "And I am Seraph Lanchestor. What's your name?"

No hint of ill emotion or frustration crossed Montana's features. He simply stood, hands clasped behind his back, observing the collective. Their conversations had mostly continued, unhindered. The few that acknowledged him had soon returned to the more pressing social matters in front of them.

To them it was something simple no doubt. Their carelessness. A simple mistake, something to be mentioned then discarded. Something for someone else to pick up and dealt with. He had hardly received more then a dismissive glance in response.

"My thanks Professor Kovalenko."

Montana's head dipped towards his companion, his hair, which had been blasted to his right during Oren's expulsion of energy, had settled neatly on his shoulder.

"However it would seem self absorption rules the day."

His voice was low, far too low for the average listener to hear. If their earlier difficulties were any indication, auditory averageness was a safe bet.

Their near future would have been an unpleasant one if not for the fortuitous arrival of Mr.Lovette.

The unpleasantness would have begun with,



"To all those who continued their previous conversation without making it known to our Professor Kovalenko that they had indeed heard her, for a reason other then shock or a naturally bashful nature, are welcome to make continued use of the lunchroom, this time with our blessing, and will be giving our janitorial staff the morning off."

"You will remove all of the frozen food, wash the used dishes and utensils, remove any remaining debris from the surrounding area."

"This will be done once orientation has been completed."

"Given the sheer volume of the unresponsive student body, I suggest a leader is elected, or a small group simply inherits the mess left behind by the student body."

Instead, Montana only extended the gracious portion of the aforementioned speech.

"All students who have yet to eat are welcome to take a tray into the Orientation room."

He bowed, and quickly fell into line behind the students. He opted walk along with the students, rather then use tier two pathways Professor Kovalenko frequented. Her teaching style was well complimented by Lovette's diplomacy, and he found both of their approaches worthy of appreciation.

His own would take some adjusting for many of their new arrivals. Montana's norm didn't involve shouting, or making any special effort to ensure that he was heard. In his mind, they would either learn to pay attention, or develop the skills needed to discern what needed to be done by looking at those around them.

------

"Oh /my/..." Azaziel's first reaction to Oren's entrance was one of shock. The initial expulsion from the Professors had drawn a look of utter amazement over his features. To Zaze the scope of her power was irrelevant, it was the amount of control it took to specifically target those food items and flash freeze them, all while keeping the flesh of the eaters free from any frost related damage.

Got /damn/. He instinctively moved his hair behind his ear when she started talking, listening to her words with a rapt attention unrivaled in the lunch room.

If /this/ was the kind of detail their teachers could put into their magic....

Then another teacher showed and finessed pyromancy, reversing much of what the former teacher had started.

Zaze's hands clapped together in such an involuntary fashion he surprised himself at the sound they made. "My my...the necromancy teacher must be..." He closed his eyes mid sentence, and let out a small, but contented sigh. Yes, he had made the right decision by coming here.

"What a brilliant stroke of luck these dumpy children are so easily fascinated with one another."

Without their disobedience it could have been days, weeks before any of them showed a smidgen of their true power.

Fantastic.

"Mmmm." Pocket pancake withdrawn, Azaziel took a thoughtful bite out of its side.

"Hopefully there's more disruptions during orientation."

Azaziel followed the throng of students inside with an unintentional flair of his coat, and a very deliberate munch of his pocket pancake.

Dami smiled at his fellow teacher, rolling his eyes. ”Give me some credit, Derrick, I know not to favour Desdemona, and she knows it too. It won’t stop her from trying, though. And she might have a point about food waste, even if she could have said it better, and expressed her concerns more politely.”

The phone beeped off, and Dami slipped it into his pocket, walking and talking. ”But really, why? I know adults who are scared of Oren Kovalenko, with good reason, why does my daughter seem to think she could take her on? And they’ll already be intimidated if they have any sense.” he said breezily. ”Some of the mage world’s most well-known fighters are teaching, that isn’t a reputation to take lightly. Even if some children don’t seem to have put the pieces together just yet.”

Dami adjusted the fall of his cloak over his shoulders, the deep blue material glimmering as if with stars. Being a necromancer meant a lot of unexpected cold drafts; he’d learned to always dress for them instead of dealing with sudden goosebumps every time a relative popped in to say hello. ”I do think this will be good for them, though. The primaries are always well taught, but the secondaries are hard to know what to look for in a tutor. Though I’m not looking forward to dealing with different skill levels in necromancy either. Do you know the verdict on the power reading proposal?”.

During the planning for the school, one debated topic was as to whether or not the students should be put through some form of test to determine the size of their power wells. Dami had either missed the final decision or one hadn’t been made yet, and he didn’t know when he could next ask. However, he never did get his answer, as they entered the library then, and approached the rest of the staff. Dami took a moment to compose himself, then smiled as he went to join his colleagues. There was a stereotype about necromancers, one as ridiculous as the one about terramancers always wearing green or tricksters being compulsive liars. Being blond, bright-eyed, nearly always smiling and favouring rich blues or reds over black meant that Dami looked nothing like the image most people got when thinking “necromancer”. But that was of no importance compared to what the man could do when wielding his powers. Smiling brightly, he took his place, observing the future students.

And the plenty of ghosts mingling in the crowd. Ancestors had come out in full force today to see their descendants off to school.

Lucien fell into the chair almost without seeing it, trying to curl in on himself with his hands in his lap and his shoulders hunched. ”I didn’t mean to…” he murmured quietly. ”It was an accident, I’m sorry…” his voice grew quieter with every murmur, the words and actions of his companions falling on blind eyes and deaf ears. Lucien hated doing things wrong, it was that simple. People weren’t kind to mistake-makers, especially ones with nothing else going for them, and he was here to make his family proud, not a laughingstock. His hands clasped each other tightly, almost painfully, not that Lucien cared. He probably deserved it, he’d already messed up, coming here had been a mistake…

A teacher came up and Lucien withdrew further, because This is it now no one will want to be my friend and everyone will just remember me as the stupid kid who couldn’t even hold onto a plate but the lady only left them a dustpan and headed off. He didn’t understand why they were delaying – maybe they didn’t want to get off schedule? – but lunged for the dustpan anyway, eager to undo as much of the mistake as he could, but his hands were trembling and he couldn’t even get a grip on the handles of the cleaning tools.

”I can’t hold it…” he murmured softly then finally looking up, only to see that the others were more concerned-looking, not jeering or filming or anything of the sort. He took a deep breath then, trying to relax his irrational fears. He was being insulting by assuming they were the worst kind of people every time he got scared. He wasn’t going to get tortured, he’d get a detention or something but it would be okay.

Breathe. he reminded himself, then looked around at where the students were starting to file out as his hands slowly stopped shaking.

They couldn’t eat without permission, he’d have to remember that.

The Ciervo family was not one to mingle with those of other magics. There was no purpose to it, in their eyes. They wouldn’t dare defile the sanctity of their “holy” blood with others, in fear of angering their god with such an act. They could provide for themselves well enough with the funding received by some of the more adventurous members of their own, and it was easy enough for them to find a few stray necromancers to bring into the fold to keep their numbers- or, if necessary, send out another handful of members to get themselves impregnated. Contact was minimal, and that suited the Ciervos nicely.

Nevertheless, Esperanza wasn’t one to snub obvious skill when she saw it. She watched, enraptured, as a pair of women effortlessly made a show of freezing and heating the meals strewn about the place, with as much strain as one would get from lifting their wrist. It was...and if…

There was no concern of her attention drifting away to somewhere else for long, really. The only time it did, it was when the mouse-girl, Jesse, affirmed that she really was fine. Esp thought that the girl still looked a bit pale and funny and somewhat sick, but as Jesse said she was okay, it was probably okay. Nodding a bit to herself, Esp leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she continued to watch.

In the middle of one of the teacher’s talks, another person came up to the table- a boy, this time, with a very upset face. Like someone had kicked his puppy, Esp thought. It was not a good face. Frowning, she straightened up to better meet the boy’s eyes, shoulders squaring. She remained in that posture even as he- Jason- looked over at her and gave a smile.

“Yes,” she responded. “I did not know that schools were like in the movies, with fights and the speeches. And my mother wanted me to keep her…” a pause, brow furrowing as she struggled to think of the right word to use. “her...she wanted to know what was happening in the school so she would not be worried.” Esp fished in her pocket, and, producing her phone, switched it on and shoved it in front of Jason’s face- apparently not ready to part with it just yet.

Esp’s recording started a bit before Kora finished her charge, and ended as the ice Professor started her own speech, as she had thought it rude to film her teachers. Why this did not extend to her peers was unclear, but Esperanza was visibly proud of her newfound cinematography skills.

Once Professor Lovette announced that they were to move to the library, Esp immediately yanked the phone away from Jason, paused it, and stuffed it back into her pocket. “I can show you later,” she explained through her pocket-fumbling. “I do not want the teachers to be mad. It would not be good.” She offered a short wave with her free hand as she watched Jesse bolt out, then went to grab her bag and follow the rest of the crowd out.

The library wasn’t far, and much to her delight, there was plenty of room to sit at. She situated herself at a decently-sized table, and, recalling both of her old seating partners, placed a paper in two of the chairs. Esp wasn’t sure if they would want to sit with her, still, but if they did, they would have a seat anyway. She smiled at the thought, and, seeing Jesse talking to Professor Lovette (she couldn’t quite hear her from this distance), Esp gave another cheerful wave.

And then texted her sister to tell her that she had made some friends.

Jason turned away from the trio at the table he was helping correct to listen to the Professor Lovette. The warm sensation and kind yet stern demeanor was what he expected from Madison Lovette.

When the professor mentioned that breakfast was indeed over and they should moved to the library he turned back to the table with a sigh. Only to find Jesse gone and a phone shoved far to close to his face. Gritting his teeth he reached up to gently push the phone away only to find it yanked from him. "Thank you, but no need to show me later I was there. Thank you for showing me, I appreciate it. I just want to make sure you do not even up filming anything magic, as that would not be good." By the looks of it there was not a way to steal the phone and delete the video. So a reminder to not film magic acts was all he could really do.

Since Professor Lovette's announce meant he could not wait around for a response from horribly picked out ugly sweater girl he shurged and headed towards the library. After all he had all year to pick apart her outfits choices and lead her down a more profession clothing path.

As he approached the library he ran into another familiar face, Jasmine Sayge. This time the smile on his face was genuine the Sayge family was a reliable one, guarding the council for generations and Jasmine was no exception. The no-nonsense girl was always a pleasure to talk to when she was not busy training for her future position. "Jasmine I had no idea you were being sent to school here. Why this is starting to turn into a nice little next generation council gathering. All we are missing is Percival to stir up his own colorful brand of trouble and the gang is all here." As he talked Jason walked over to an empty table and pulled out two chairs. "Care to sit with me during orientation?"

---

Desi had taken her own interpretation of the Professor’s speech, as she often did. Blah, listen to us, blah, I’m better than you, etcetera etcetera all boiling down to “who do you think you are, you little bitch?” Eh, it was fair. She’d known what she’d been doing when she decided to speak up. There were a few things she wanted to comment on though, one of which was that the professor appeared to have missed her point completely. Desi wasn’t annoyed about the food being inedible. She was annoyed over the principle of the thing. And secondly – it was insulting for the woman to imply that Damien would favour her. She was well aware that the only advantage she would have with her dad was that she was familiar with how he taught and what he considered the basics.

The new teacher coming in turned the tables though, making Desi feel that maybe she had missed the point as well. Or maybe they had been on different pages all along. She watched the pyromancer curiously as she fixed the food, then looked at the defense teacher. Why hadn’t the man spoken louder, then? She hadn’t heard him over the din at all. The girl poked at her pancake again. She didn’t doubt Professor Lovette’s skill but she doubted that it tasted good now. Instead she drank the juice, thankfully still palatable, and then stood along with her group and moved over to the library. She wasn’t a troublemaker at heart, and so she sat quietly, looking around.

Her smile reappeared quickly when her dad entered the room and she gave him a small wave, trying not to draw too much attention now in contrast to before. She rolled her eyes slightly upon noticing why he had been late, and giggled, covering her moth with a dainty hand. No need to make things harder for Dami to be taken seriously until he had a chance to demonstrate how much he knew.