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Asher Donovan

"We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all of the power we need inside ourselves already." [NPC]

0 · 1,459 views · located in The City of Anthemia

a character in “Anthemia Academy for Hunters||Remaster”, as played by Stark Contrast

Description

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"Insert Character Quote here"




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NAME:
Asher Molovian Donovan Jr

AGE:
36

HEIGHT:
6'3

GENDER:
Male

HOMELAND:
Anthemia

PRIMARY CLASS:
Exorcist

SECONDARY CLASS:
Summoner (well at least when he attended the Academy)



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LIKES:
βœ”Nature
βœ”Seafood
βœ”Historical Fiction
βœ”Mints
βœ”Beaches
βœ”Soul Music
βœ”Cute Creatures
βœ”Medics
βœ”Magic


DISLIKES:
✘Arrogance
✘Intolerance to Others
✘Bigots
✘Liars
✘Physical Altercations

PERSONALITY:
Asher is the type of person people see as reliable and trustworthy, people typically come to him to divulge their problems, and he tends to give great advice when needed. He can act as a shoulder to cry on, or your therapist, for that many people tend to feel rather comfortable around Asher as if he were already friends with said person. Asher is straight forward, and sometimes uncompromising with others, in a sense he hates having to deal with bullshit, and out of all the things he can tolerate, he does not tolerate lying, and he seems to have little to no difficultly deciphering lies from people. He can be brutally honest with people if the situation calls for it. Asheris neither shy, nor quiet, many nights outside school grounds at bars has revealed that Asher doesn't handle his alcohol well. He will say what is on his mind if he feels that it will benefit the situation proper, he isn't one to back down from a challenge and he can be rather competitive with others.

As a leader, he is always taking advice from others, and is sincerely interested in listening to people's problems, which has made him a rather effective leader for the Exorcists Council in Anthemia, as such most do not question his authority, and find the man to have a fair sense of judgement. He is lighthearted, and easy to approach for anything, he tends to hate depressing moods and finds it easier to be happy about life than find all the faults with the world. For him it is best for people to realize that no matter how hard life gets, sometimes one simply needs to stop and take a look around. As far as relationships go, that part of his past is rather strained for him, a former love having left this world left him terribly afraid of finding another in fear of being alone and heartbroken.

Asher is dubbed as the 'Most Interesting Man Alive' by Anthemia media culture, due to his exploits in numerous lands, his prolific studies in several magickal arts, and his rather humble, and gentlemanly persona. He has taken residence in the halls of Anthemia, rumored to be a new teacher at the facility, although one must wonder why someone like him would take up such a under paying career for his skills, nonetheless it isn't as if his presence isn't appreciated by the staff and possibly the students.



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WEAPONS:
Rhuvian Scepter - The Rhuvian Scepter is an artifact straight from the Desert Wastes, powerful in that it the energies of the wielders are hardly sacrificed, a highly efficient and convenient weapon. Almost one of a kind.

MAGICK:
Asher is known for being rather prolific and dabbling in nearly all the disciplines, which is to be expected of him considering his super star persona in Anthemia.

FAMILIARS:
The true number of familiars he has is obscured by the man itself, though the fae that is always by his side is one known as Skips, a Fae of rather diminutive stature that has never seemingly grown beyond Ash's early days with him, but it is known to have a rather mean jib, and can be rather hot headed. Otherwise, the two are inseparable.

So begins...

Asher Donovan's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester
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"A new day is always welcomed."
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fΡ”Ρ”lΓ­ng:
Relfective, Slightly nervous, Eager
lσcαtíσn:
Anthemia Academy
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"The world will end not in a bang, but in a meekly whimper by the cumulative efforts of the human race."

Asher heard those very same words reverberate through his eardrums daily, framing his thoughts and his actions, just where they came from he'd rather not say, but he slowly came to realize the day to day struggle of humanity would one day come to an end. He was absolutely sure of such a thing, though he knew regardless of the chances, humanity would fight, and resist the natural order of chaos that their world was built for, Daemons would not have the last laugh, and if we were going to inevitably go extinct it would not be at the hands of something so virulent, so corrupt. Asher perhaps found some humor in the fact that humans cast themselves in a wholly different light than their daemonic counterparts, while he, even at such a tender age, could only think that we were not so different from one another.

He cast a contemplative look over the sitting cup of caffeine in front of him, his phone was lighting up with news relative to sights of daemonic activity beyond the borders of Anthemia, and far and away from the Academy itself. Today though, it seemed that most of the student body had been sent on scouting missions today, especially with a spike in activity after the last few months. As diligent as they were toward their craft, Asher had yet to know any of the students of the Academy and actually found himself slightly alienated from the new generation of Hunters, these were definitely not the types he graduated with some decade ago, and his new position here was more or less heralded as some kind of divine blessing on the students here. Administration made quick work of making sure the students appreciated his tenure here, no doubt that the headmasters of the school found his presence to be a boon, more funding was never a bad idea, although for a man who's reportedly seen it all, Asher felt he had something to learn from students who lacked the experience he had, and for what's it worth he didn't believe the Daemon scourge would be resolved in his lifetime, much like it wasn't in his parents own, but he'd be damned if he didn't try.

And so, here he was, waiting for the first class he would teach this semester, promised that this group would comprise of some of the most unique Hunters in the school from varying circumstances. All of them proficient in at least one thing or another, valedictorian candidates, battle weary students, well, those were just a few of the things he expected. He searched through the folders of the portfolios he was given on each of the students, some neglected to mention very basic things, that were perhaps unknown to the Collection and Statistics Department in the school, of course they only really knew as much as the student told, or what other students were willing to tell, and for some there honestly wasn't much they could do about. He flipped through the files rather carelessly suddenly thinking to himself. " A piece of parchment couldn't possibly tell me more about these students than they could."

And for maybe the fifth time that morning he had to set the files back down on his desk in eagerness at what would come through those doors.




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"Hurry, I'm waiting..."
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ο½†ο½…ο½…ο½Œο½‰ο½Žο½‡:
Anxious, Excited
ο½ƒο½•ο½’ο½’ο½…ο½Žο½”ο½Œο½™ at:
Anthemia Academy

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He was always cleaning his pistols whenever he was anxious, and as fate would have it he was indeed. The smell of gun polish, and smalls hints of powder filled the room. Luckily, he had yet to be assigned a roommate since the large castle that hosted the Academy was large enough for some students to end up without a mate, sure it may have stifled his already abysmal social life, but Gods did it help him think when he needed to. The anxieties that claimed his mind had something to do with the fact that the missions coordinator had completely neglected his requests for more missions over the pasts few months, his guns, and his saber had gone into disuse, and the young teen had too much pride in himself to ask anyone else whether or not they had received the same treatment, ever since his last home teacher was reportedly killed in combat during a mission, the new one, who was apparently famous in the eyes of many but not to the somewhat oblivious nature of Maddox, had come around to replace her. Maddox had many theories in his mind as to why he hadn't been chosen yet for scouting in the last few months, which for some reason never included his previous home-teacher dying. Much of it had to do with some assumed inadequacy on his part, for someone who was known to be critical of others and their actions, he was hardest on himself.

So those months of no activity were spent either bemoaning his position, or training with the possible futility of being dropped from the Academy because of some form of inadequacy that he hadn't anticipated. Maybe his last Psychological Evaluation didn't hold up, that was usually the reason most people were kicked, some were seen as a danger to society and themselves as they were sent off to who knows where. All Maddox knew is that he wouldn't be so complacent to not receive his degrees for a few random hiccups in his psyche, not to mention anyone would go insane tying to figure out just why their demands were continually ignored just like Maddox would be, he was probably over thinking the situation, it was probably just his impatience.

He continued to use his lubricated towel and a small brush to wipe down the barrels of his pistols, he was mumbling while he did so, once again contemplating his position in the school as he did nearly every other morning. He would have hardly recognized the ping at his door. Suddenly, he looked at the entrance rather annoyed as if it slapped him and then sighed a few moments afterward, he then put his weapon and cleaning tools down, and grabbed his glasses off the drawer adjacent to him. He walked over to his door, dusting his fingers of black gun powder on his pants before opening it. One of the service androids stood in front of him, a cybernetic feat that was analogous with Anthemia's advanced technology, but something he found annoyance with this early morning.

Forester, Maddox, your home room has been changed to Second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquires?"

Maddox stared strangely at the android speaking, no doubt perplexed by the fact that they couldn't have just pinged him on his intercom like most students, they must have sent an android on the count that his previous room location changed a few weeks ago, therefore his room was a bit on the farthest side of the school grounds.

"Uh, thank you I suppose? I'll be sure to report there as soon as possible."

The android nodded appreciatively or seemed to, and then began to reenact an advertisement most likely pre-programmed into it's subroutines.

"Are you in need of magical supplies? Does your blade need sharpening? Well, come down to Luna's Emporium wher-"

He probably should have closed the door a little earlier than that, but he got the gist of being a pawn in the schemes of companies outside the school, something he'd rather avoid. He could hear the android continue his little rant, before running back to it's duties, probably of the janitorial type. Maddox affixed his glasses into a more comfortable position, while his body did not show it even in a place where he was completely alone, he was relieved to hear that he finally had a class in the morning, as opposed to moping around until his afternoon schedule picked up. He walked into the bathroom to wash off any of the excess filth that had gathered from him polishing his tools, and then headed back into his bedroom to gather his weapons, and a small backpack of some necessities. It was nice to feel like he was actually using his body to do something other than wait, and for a while he didn't notice the small smile creeping up on his face as he walked out of the door bound for that room.

Once he got there though he found an open door, and of course his new home teacher, the one he couldn't place in his mind, the one nearly everyone seemed to welcome with open arms, especially the females of the school, and administration as far as he could recall. The small smirk on his face dissipated immediately as he was met face to face with his new Professor, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Sir."

He addressed him in a typical manner, like a soldier would their commander, though Asher just seemed rather enthused by this as he took a sip from his coffee, before speaking.

"Please, no need for formalities just have a seat, I suppose you just got your message?"

"Yes sir. I'm Maddox Forester, in case you were curious."
He responds in a neutral tone

Asher takes note of this before nodding, trying to recall what he read about Maddox in the files. "Well welcome to the class, it'll probably take a while until the others are here, hopefully you have it in you to wait a bit."

Maddox nodded once before taking a seat near the back window of the classroom, hoping that things would proceed faster as he was long overdue for some type of field work, though he couldn't imagine with a new teacher and all that they'd start right out on the first day. It was definitely atypical for any new teacher.




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"Nobody ever said alcohol was a good idea."
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fΡ”Ρ”β„“ΞΉΠΈg:
Hungover, Exhausted, Slightly Nauseated
ℓσ’αтισи:
Anthemia Academy
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Hungover was a good word for it, she wouldn't even show her current state to her mother, if she could remember her, and what was worse was that she was not at all prepared for her afternoon courses, not in this state, and definitely not today. If she reported sick they would have found out she'd been drinking, which would probably mean some type of punitive action on their part, it just wasn't an adequate excuse for absence. One look at her room though would be all the evidence they need, the bottles that she drank last night were still, sitting without grace, strewn across her room, and unfortunately empty. She was the age in which students from the Academy were allowed to drink, and attend clubs in the city, now most Hunters had a tendency to avoid the night life and maintain at least some form of sobriety lest they fall back in their studies. One would be surprised at the behaviors that Noel had fallen into, there had been a few incidents where she might have been drunk following one of her afternoon courses, but luckily she had a strong stomach, and a stronger sense to function against inebriation and to still seem like a hard working student. Her grades weren't too bad or anything, but she imagined that if she wasn't so keen to the night life of the city, maybe, just maybe they'd be a little higher than they were.

Either way that wasn't helping the situation at hand, and the annoying ping that kept going off on her touch screen on the front of her door was intensifying the headache she was having. From her position on the bed, she sat up, rubbing her temple in a futile attempt to ward off her grogginess. She moved rather slowly to her Comm device knowing that ignoring it would force the administrations hand into sending one of it's moderators down to check up on her, and she was hardly ready to deal with the consequences of bringing alcoholic substances to school, hell she couldn't even say that it was for experimentation to ward away the possibility of punishment. Either way, after some struggling she made her way to the Comm, tapping her fingers on the new message that had been delivered straight from the Admin office. She read the message aloud as the bright light of the Comm slightly blurred her vision.

"You have been assigned a new home room teacher, please report to..." the rest of the message she internalized before sighing, the last thing she needed was her mornings ruined by ceaseless training, the time she needed to recuperate from the night before would now be lost now that she had a teacher she actually had to report to in the mornings. It was hard enough getting to open the message in front of her, much less have the effort to get off of her mattress. She ruffled her hand through her hair, knowing that she'd have to pull herself together in the meantime, and hope that this new teacher didn't smell the Absinthe on her breath, which reminded her that it was probably best for her look as hygienic as possible before she walked into classroom. Only a few minutes passed between her getting the message, then taking a shower and combing her hair, doing the things most people do before they start the day. She combed her hair into a high strung ponytail, and despite looking rather fresh on the outside, on the inside she still felt like a rotten sleepy mess. She shuffled her supplies together in a bag, and strapped her daggers to her backpacks, along with some poisons and her pistol before heading out to the designated location. After passing through some hallways, greeting some acquaintances, and probably wasting more time than she should of, she made it to the second floor, luckily able to fool the Mods into thinking that she wasn't planning to stay in her room all day. Unfortunately, for them that might have spelled disaster.

Before entering the classroom, she decided to hang out by the door for a few minutes, to bask in the times in which she didn't have a morning class, perhaps enjoy the scenery of outside of the window across from her. She almost wished she had a cigarette to puff on, but she figured the alcohol was enough to set her back for more repercussions. She instead sucked in a breath of frustration before speaking to herself. "Shitty days ahoy it seems..."







Please read the contents of this thread before you post to clear up any confusion.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira
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#, as written by Shiki29
Hector was standing there, in the field. Surrounding him were various combatants, all armed to the teeth, of various ages. The youngest were ten. Hector himself was designated to command a small force of these children, until command changed their squads around. Not a problem. This was something that Hector was used to, as were many of the others who had lived up to this point. But none knew it for as long as Hector did. He was 14. His squad was made of younger children, including that 10-year old. A girl. Hector forgot her name, but she still kept her stuffed animal with her, holding it on her back, alongside her sub-machine gun. She was too small to effectively use an assault rifle, after all.

That was when Hector's perception flashed forward, to the daemon that interrupted their trip. The squads each were traveling while remaining in radio contact of each other. They were preserving the fuel of their gunships. Hector's squad had none, simply carrying their equipment on ground transport vehicles. Another soldier in Hector's squad had called out at the same time as a high-pitched scream pierced the silence of the day. Hector swung around.

The group had taken a short break, with their vehicle stopped. They were all playing outside, or sitting down. Either way, everyone had time to relax. The scream was the little girl, with her stuffed animal. She was being held by a tendril, belonging to a shapeless, flesh-coloured beast. Hector didn't know how it had gotten so close without anyone hearing it beforehand. But that was not the issue. Hector's mind focused on a million things at once on a slow day.

Now, everything was focused on her. Every muscle movement, every breath, every thought, was to rescue her. He had to. Even if it was a daemon that captured her. This was the first daemon Hector would have ever fought. He would call for help, for a hunter, but he knew there were none in the squad. They were alone.

The girl's screams grew louder as the creature opened it's mouth, and had eaten the girl. Her stuffed animal lay at the creature's base, below where the girl was being held a short moment ago.

That short moment was all Hector needed to get to the scene. It had eaten her, but he would fish her out of that thing if it was the last thing he would do. Everyone else was paralyzed with fear until a black wind dashed past them, with speed enhanced by magic. The others ran to the vehicle and brought out their equipment. That black wind was Hector. He always kept his weapons with him. A sub-machine gun with explosive bullets that could have the strength of their explosions enhanced by technomancy. And a plain, pike-like spear, whose edge could be sharpened and strengthened with magic. Hector was circling the daemon, firing the gun at it with one hand. He didn't care if he used all of his magical power on on this fight. He could live without it until it replenished. And besides, he was a fantastic mage. His output was high, and he could use magic for a longer period of time than most, out of pure efficiency and knowledge of magic. He knew out to put his magic to good use to reduce how much he used at a time.

As he circled it, firing the explosive rounds at it's body, Hector approached closer and closer. He could see the girl, after blowing away the regenerating exterior of the creature. Hector holstered the gun as he rocketed closer, and he drew the spear, and ran forward, pushing his legs and magical ability as far as they could go. The girl was being wrapped by a regenerated maw attached to what appeared to be a solid stomach, it's teeth sinking into her within a second of Hector reaching the toothed stomach, and spearing it, ripping it from the main body and carrying himself, the girl, and the speared stomach all forward together.

Hector landed on his feet, the spear holding the small stomach, and the body of the girl, still caught on the teeth. Hector had expected the teeth to not have sunk so deep into her. He thought that he could resuscitate her. People died from more serious things, the bite should not have been this deep, he would have turned around and continued fighting if the girl had been dislodged from the stomach he ripped out and fell into the creature, he would have-

Hector interrupted his thoughts by dashing back to the vehicle, where, by now, the others had brought out more heavy equipment. Hector used his fire magic to burn the teeth from the stomach, so that they could be pulled out safely. Leaving the girl there, he turned around only after hearing a nearby gunship approach. One of the others must have called for backup. Hector left the girl on the ground, a short distance away from the vehicle as he saw an adult medic slide down a rope from the helicopter, once the air vehicle had gotten closer. Luckily, this was an adult who, while not a hunter, knew holy magic, and medical training.

When Hector turned around, he saw the creature. It was taking the form of the girl it sunk it's teeth into. Her face was there, but proportionate to the creature's body, which also began to morph to resemble something more human-shaped. There were no eyes, only eye sockets.

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Hector used his technomancy once he had picked up two small rocket launchers. The helicopter would provide heavy fire that would obliterate the creature, regardless of what Hector did, but he had to do this. His hatred would not permit otherwise.

He had used his technomancy to aim the guided rockets, once he fired both, into the empty eye sockets of the creature. One rocket in each. The explosion was loud, but fulfilling.

Hector's perception leaped forward again. He was holding the corpse of the girl in his arms as he walked to the grave he dug for her. After putting her in, he turned back, and retrieved her stuffed animal. Hector had only ever referred to it as a stuffed animal, but he saw that it was a rabbit. Only in that instance. He placed it into the grave with her, and turned around.

. . .

Hector opened his eyes, looking at the surroundings of his room. Books and computer equipment were on the shelves that were ever-present throughout the room. The smell of dust returned to his senses. He should really hire a maid to clean this place. Or do it himself. Hector got up and checked the time. It was 2:30 A.M.

Hector grabbed his head with both hands. He needed a mission. Badly. The nightmares were coming back. He knew that only a mission, only real combat would alleviate his shell shock. But, it looked like that would not occur, with his home-room teacher being dead. His schedule was to not go to classes on some days. He often scored perfectly on tests, and anything that he needed to do to not get kicked out of the academy. All he needed was to attend a few days of classes and missions, and his nightmares would be in check. Those few days were enough. He hated to admit it, to himself more than anyone, but he probably needed to fight on missions. That way, he could be at peace. Ironic, that he would likely only ever be at peace while fighting war.

What he needed was a distraction. He called up the delivery for coffee.

Hector had another solution to his problem: He would build something.

. . .

A few hours and seven cups of coffee later, Hector had finished his device. It was just a rifle, on the surface. Only on the surface. Each bullet was charged with magical energy from the gun that caused the rounds to glow brightly as they left the barrel, and burn through their targets. Or burn into them and remain there. The bullets could barely burn entirely through thicker targets. Once they lost their burning capability, they rested in the target like an ordinary bullet, albeit in a larger hole than the caliber of the bullet allowed. It would be useful for fighting larger creatures that were organic.

Hector frowned for a moment before pushing the memory out of his head. He decided to spend time reading a book until the morning.

When morning came, Hector received a message from a robot behind the door. As Hector answered the door, he feared that he had gone over the stipend he had been given. Seven cups of coffee, after all, was a bit much, even for him.

"Kazuhira, Hector, your home room has been changed to Second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquires?"

"No."

Hector shut the door, and got ready for the day. He would be in a homeroom run by a celebrity. Hector didn't consider this to be too special. He hardly kept up with celebrities. In fact, he would not be shocked if Professor Donovan was just as uncaring of his celebrity status as Hector was.

Hector got cleaned up, dressed, straightened his tie, and placed his knife, staff, and wand in his bag. He thought of bringing the rifle, but he decided against it. After all, it didn't have any level of automatic action. Each bullet had to be loaded individually, and the next bullet had to be brought into the firing chamber manually after each shot. Although Hector was familiar with the system's use, he was too lazy to pull a bolt after each shot. But still...

Hector left for the classroom, leaving his hat in his room. He avoided eye contact as much as possible. That was simply how he enjoyed to do things. Once he reached the room, he chose to try and limit his interaction with the girl at the door to a glance. He entered, and began to head for his desk, before he turned around. He forgot to say good morning to professor Donovan.

"Good morning, professor. I'm Hector Kazuhira. It's an honor."

And with that, Hector sat down in his seat, at the front of the classroom, by a window, waiting to see whether he may receive a new mission or not.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira
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#, as written by Shiki29

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira
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Sleeping in a garden of blue roses seemed to be an unusual thing to do. But not for Robin Grey, one of the more unique of scholars. He came from Anima like most scholars but refused to be on the valedictorian, or even listen to politics. His Father, an Airship Captain Who's Townhouse he willingly gave Damian after he became nineteen, on a rental fee, the amount of which changeable as the Captain saw fit, had instilled the boy with distrust of the leaders of Anima.

But that was life, and life never became free without some earning done. The young man slowly opened his tired eyes and yawned as he got up off his small garden room. He had overworked himself, yet again, growing his lovely blue roses. No one knows why, for possible spare money or for the enjoyment, or both, as he is seen trying to sell some for some extra money. Walking out of this room he passed his bedroom and then his workroom, where he toils and tinkers trying to make new creations. From New hunter weapons to small gadgets, to even the occasional children's trinket, he would try to make it.

Stuck in his routine, he would put together a field bag for possible missions to be prepared for. Inside consisted of the following, one combat suit made by Robert Damian Grey, Patent pending, Soulfire, his two handed broadsword given to him by his Mother and Father on his enrollment to the academy at 15, and a few emergency food rations for those required occasions. It was all routine for him. Any break in this routine would slightly result in a disastrous reaction on his part, albeit contained inward as he tries to not show anyone his suffering.

Speaking of breaks in his routine, it had been awhile since his home room teacher died, and he himself was not sent on a mission. This worried him. How would he face his father, whose portrait stares with one dark brown eye darting outward towards the front door, if he were kicked out? Then there was a knock at the door.

"I hope it's good news or at least a visitor." Robin stated to himself as he walked to the door and opened it. It was one of the Academy's Service Droids. Surprise, he was about to be told something about his current status as a student.

"Grey, Robert Damian, Your Homeroom has been changed to second floor room 2-2-1-3. You will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan, during your morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?"

"No that'll be all. You may leave now." was all he could say to the robot as he hurried and grabbed his field bag and then his school bag before hurrying past the droid.

"Wait, The Asher Donovan? I heard that Famous Hunter was in town but never thought he was there to replace my last teacher. I liked that teacher. I wonder how Professor Donovan will be as a Teacher now?" Robin swallowed nervously at the thought of it.

Fifteen minutes later he was in the school heading for the schoolroom assigned to him. He walked past one of his other classmates, and gave a slight nervous nod in greeting, before walking into the classroom. Inside was another classmate, a fellow native of Anima, if he recalled, and a green haired exorcist. At the desk was the Professor and to him gave a small nervous wave.

"Morning Professor, Robert Damian Grey, at your service. Call me Robin, sir." He stated as he walked to a seat in the second row and set his bags under the desk before sitting down, waiting for his other classmates to arrive. Outward he tried his best to look calm but inside he was a nervous wreck. What would be in store for him, and what will be required of him. It was a big unknown to him with no sense of reality at the moment.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira
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"Report to the research center in the West Wing." That was what they'd told her to do. She'd felt her heart sinking at these commands, as she'd been hoping that she'd finally get the chance to live in an ordinary dormitory environment, instead of a whitewashed lab with cameras watching her every move and coat-wearing researchers staring at her all day, governing every second of every day of her life. When she wasn't practicing her powers in their strict training regimen, she was undergoing new tests to explore the limits of her abilities, and exceed them. It was an exhausting, merciless routine that left her utterly burned out at the end of every day, with no freedom to do any of the things she enjoyed. "Just deal with it," they had said dismissively. "We need to remain closeby to monitor your vitals at all times so you don't suffer the same fate as Subject 13. Too much money has been put into your creation for failure to be tolerated." Ah, Subject 13 - the Sword of Damocles they hung over her head at the slightest provocation. Having read the minds of her handlers, she had seen in full detail the gory fate suffered by her predecessor as her body crumbled and warped, bones snapping and turning to dust, eyes spewing blood as her skull collapsed in on itself as though an invisible hand had crumpled it like a wad of used tissue paper. That was the fate that awaited her, they said, if they were not hovering over her shoulder for 24 hours of every day of every week, monitoring her powers and "protecting" her from herself.

It was all hogwash, of course, mused the girl, brushing back some errant strands of her two-toned hair as she strode calmly through the main hall of her new school, the fluttering of her entourage's coat tails ringing in her ears as the scientists flanking her on either side continued leading the way to her new prison. The girl known as Lorelei had read enough of the minds of her handlers to know that her powers had not, nor would they ever advance to that volatile stage. But that didn't stop them from using that as an excuse, as though they thought she was too stupid to remember anything. Then again, in a way, maybe they were right about that. Who had she been, she wondered. Why had she ever agreed to sign her rights over to the researchers who now governed every aspect of her life? She was sure there had been some important reason, that she'd had no other choice. She just wished she could remember what that reason was. Maybe then, this tiring, ruthless tedium would be a little more bearable.


"Is that the NHP representative? She looks so young." Lorelei grimaced, gritting her teeth as the intrusive voice burrowed its way deep into her consciousness, countless others joining it as the students bustling about stopped to gawk at what they must have viewed as a new and interesting plaything.

"Look at her, just strolling in with her escorts like some sort of wannabe princess."

"I've seen her type before. She's probably a total bitch."

"'Next generation of humanity,' my ass. Just 'cause a lot of money's riding on her she waltzes in here like she owns the place. We worked hard to get where we are, you know. Some no-talent fake human who thinks she's all that just because her creators' connections can get her anywhere has no place here. Go back to Leviathan, you arrogant slut."

"WHO SAID THAT?!" Snapping at last, she stopped suddenly, rounding upon where she thought the voice had been coming from as her hands clenched into fists. Her hair began to flutter wildly on an eldritch breeze as her narrowed eyes glowed with their own internal azure light, darting from one face to the next as she tried to find the source of the voice that had so insulted her. How dare they claim that she had done nothing to get where she was. She'd been fighting to survive each and every day of her life! But more than just that... she wasn't a fake! She knew she had once been a person. She had been a Human like them! She must have been!

"What the hell? Who does she think she's talking to?"

"Is she alright in the head?"

"What a total psychopath."

"Oi, NHP goons! Keep your bitch on a leash!" Shouted a voice from amidst the crowd, which was echoed by several more a moment later as mocking laughter resounded all around her...




Lorelei's eyes snapped open where she lay. That dream again. Well, less of a dream than a memory, she supposed, sitting up in her bed, glancing across the room at the far wall, staring into the blank whiteness of the featureless room surrounding her, its otherwise blinding color reduced to a mere dull gray by the deadened lights of the laboratory bedroom. Ever since she'd arrived, things had been largely the same. People either avoided her out of fear of interacting with a "lunatic," or mocked her between one another, either unaware of or unconcerned by the fact that she knew full well what they were saying. The voices were always so loud, each and every one of them either mocking or pitying her. It just made her want to scream, to throw their insults back in the faces of the ones who so smugly mocked her. But it was pointless. The voices never stopped talking, never stopped insulting her - and she hated it.

She groaned, stretching her arms as she tried to shake off the stiffness that had overcome her body after spending the night atop the small white "bed" - more of a glorified, expandable couch, really - that provided her "room" - more of a glorified cell, really - with one of its two sole furnishings. Well, she supposed it could be worse. At least she had a bed, and that certainly beat spending her nights strapped to an operating table with electrodes probing her brain for the slightest hint of psychic activity, countless syringes full of sedatives ready and waiting to be pumped into her should her powers ever go out of control, all alone in the darkness with her body aching and her thoughts a mess. It was probably for the best that she couldn't remember much of that period of her life - although what she did recall nevertheless made up a good portion of her nightmares. She supposed she'd been lucky to simply dream she was being humiliated, rather than experimented on.

Crossing the tiny chamber in a few quick strides, her feet making naught but a faint shuffling against the frigid, infuriatingly pristine white floor, Lorelei idly swung open her wardrobe - the other bit of furnishing in her humble abode, a large, gaudy mahogany object which looked almost hilariously out of place against the monochromatic backdrop of the lab - and, reaching inside, withdrew her "uniform." Well, technically, just the black and cerulean tabard she wore and the tie that accompanied it were actually part of the apparel she'd been assigned by the NHP, while the long-sleeved black undershirt, matching opaque tights, and short, half-blouse, half-dress she wore were all her own personal additions to her attire. Placing all these things on her couch, she turned, slipping out of the flimsy, backless white nightgown she wore and casually throwing it across the room into a hamper in the side of the still-open wardrobe. Standing bare at the center of the small room, she turned, spreading her arms like a conductor, then sweeping them upward, the azure crystal that she'd taken out along with her uniform shattering outward into a large mass of floating water that washed over her in an instant, wrapping itself like a raiment around her and running over her form, precisely darting into each pore and clearing it in turn in what was equal parts morning practice and self-grooming ritual - although she had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason she'd been allowed to use her magic to clean herself was because the surveillance team enjoyed the free show they got over the cameras. Ensuring that her aura of water covered her most important parts from the angles at which her sixth sense helpfully reminded her the cameras were positioned in at all times, Lorelei concluded her little bath by purging all the water that still clung to her pale skin, running it up and through her hair, sending a two-toned cascade of raven and snowy tresses fluttering outward as though caught on a powerful breeze, before the water at last morphed back into its crystalline form, weaving itself back into her hair as she picked up the clothing she'd left on the couch. She was just about to set about getting dressed when the door snapped open with an audible hiss as the sealed environment of her room decompressed slightly - she still thought vacuum sealing the doors as a defense against any sort of germs contaminating her sleeping environment was a little excessive, but she supposed that her handlers couldn't afford their valuable test subject catching cold if they could help it.

Turning to face the intruder, Lorelei almost forgot to conceal her scowl as her eyes met those of Dr. Bessiger, the right hand man to the chairman of the NHP, and her personal handler and commanding officer. He was a tall man, and surprisingly young for an individual of his status and expertise. He possessed a heavily built, study physique that suggested he'd probably done his fair share of physical activities in the past, which, when combined with his formidable height, gave him a very imposing stature that most people couldn't help but be cowed by. His blonde hair was short, cut very methodically around his eyes and ears, and trimmed with the same obsessive zeal along the back of his neck, while his midnight blue eyes gazed coldly over the top of his spectacles. From the precise crease in each leg of his slacks to the pristine cerulean suit he wore, he was the perfect image of order. Lorelei forced back the bile that crept its way into her throat as this man, her eternal tormentor, stepped calmly into the room, his eyes sweeping over her naked body with all the interest one might have expected someone to show some small, insignificant animal's carcass. In his expression alone, he made it abundantly clear that he, unlike the watchers on the 24 hour cameras she lived with, didn't view her as a fellow Human being, even if only in the sense of a slave to be leered at. To him, she was nothing but a tool.

"Good," he said coldly. "You're awake."

"Did your parents ever teach you how to knock?" Lorelei wanted to say, but stifled herself out of fear, simply turning herself about, standing rigidly at attention, and placing her right hand over her heart in salute - a gesture which, fortunately, had the side effect of covering her sensitive regions with the clothing still draped over her arm. "Yes, master," She replied dutifully, her voice cold and stoic as she tried her hardest not to spit the hateful word by which she was forced to refer to him, her maker, and her unmaker should she ever set a single foot out of line. This was the man who controlled her very fate, and if she did not remember that and show him the utmost respect and humility, the things he could do to her or have done to her would make starving to death on the streets or being devoured by Daemons seem merciful by comparison.

Dr. Bessiger gave a self-assured half-smirk, stopping in front of her and reaching out a hand, placing two fingers upon her chin and slowly, forcefully raising it by several degrees. Lorelei winced as she fought back the impulse to lash out at him, to release her powers and fling him away, his chilling, powerful touch sending chills down her spine of a sort far colder than the brisk air of the lab against her bare flesh. Her azure eyes reluctantly rose as she looked up - or perhaps the matter of note was that he had deigned to look down on her? - meeting the midnight blue gaze of her handler, her creator, her owner, the man who held everything she was in the palm of his hand, and who would shape her, like a dollmaker might give form to a doll, in whatever way he pleased. Lorelei hated those eyes, loathed them with every fiber of her being, despised the way they seemed to pierce like daggers through her, dismantling her and laying her bare before them, her individuality stripped away by their cold awareness as her very self was reduced to mere data, reflected in the eyes of that terrifying man who held absolute power over everything she had been, was, and ever would be.

"Look me in the eye when you speak," Ordered the doctor, his voice that of a disapproving father to a petulant child, commanding the respect of his rude and arrogant creation.

"Yes, master," Lorelei repeated obediently, her words utterly void of any of the feelings or emotions whirling through her terrified brain, containing nothing save the blind respect and acceptance that the doctor demanded. She was barely able to muster even this sort of empty, mechanical speech, her breath nearly choking in her throat as she spoke the words she so hated for a second time, her eyes unable to escape the gaze of those horrible blue orbs that dominated her vision, staring down at her with soul-crushing intensity. Finally, as suddenly as he had forced her to meet it, the man broke off his gaze, giving a self-satisfactory nod to himself as he released her chin and turned, walking casually to the opposite edge of the room, shutting the still-open door of her wardrobe as he passed it out of obsessive-compulsive fervor. Lorelei gave a silent gasp of relief, sucking in the breath that had been stolen from her when those eyes had met her own.

He had to be there for a reason. The doctor never interacted with her so personally unless he had something he wanted her to do. The sooner she could figure out what exactly that thing was, the sooner he might leave her in peace, the sooner she might escape from his hateful presence, even if only temporarily. And so, her words still devoid of any feeling save obedience, she spoke.

"What is it that you wish of this unit, master? I will obey," She said humbly, making sure to avoid speaking with any pretense of humanity before this man who refused to accept her as such.

"Well, aren't we eager?" Laughed the doctor quietly. There was nothing outwardly malevolent about his laugh. Unlike the cackling villains in cliche films, his mirth was expressed in a thoroughly ordinary, perhaps even understated manner. But to Lorelei, that only made it all the more terrifying, as it presented the possibility that this man was really nothing but an ordinary person doing his job - and that just so happened to entail commanding her very destiny, and crushing it beneath his boot heel if such measures became necessary. "In that case, you'll be pleased to know I have good news. You've finally been reassigned."

The experiment's eyes widened as her mind processed these words. Reassigned? Her last teacher had been killed practically on the same day he'd been charged with her instruction. As a result, she'd ended up spending most of her time in the lab running tests like always, waiting for the opportunity to be assigned once more to a group so as to improve her skills and run missions. She'd never actually been part of a major operation, nor had she participated in actual combat against a wild, powerful Daemon. The closest she came to having real battle experience was fighting some of the captured Daemons brought to Leviathan for training purposes - although she supposed any battle where you ran a risk of dying couldn't exactly be called anything but "real." If she was finally being reassigned, then that would mean her first chance to actually perform the duties for which she'd been created, and to destroy the Daemonic invaders. Forgetting her fear for a moment, she gave a smile of surprise - yet this soon collapsed when she remembered what else being assigned to a group would mean - she'd have to work with her peers, most of whom at the very least knew her, and, more often than not, either thought she was insane or simply despised her for the manner in which she'd entered the academy. Her expression of delight swiftly turned to a grimace. Still, she supposed, it would be better than staying here in the lab, where this man had absolute command of every aspect of her life. Besides, she'd long since learned to stop hoping for anything she knew she wouldn't get, so there was no sense in getting worked up over it. She would simply fulfill her duties. Then, at least, she would be blameless, even in the eyes of the peers who so looked down on her. "When shall I begin?" She asked quietly.

"Today, in one hour. You'll be in class designation 2-2-1-3, on the second floor. Hurry up and make yourself presentable, then report to your new teacher. That is all." Rounding on the door, the Doctor left just as suddenly as he had entered, and her room sealed itself once again in his wake. She sighed, too flustered by her fear, confusion, anxiety, and anticipation to care about the cameras watching her as she set about dressing herself, slipping into the sleeves of her undershirt and blouse before fastening on her tabard and pulling on her customary pair of tights. Brushing back her hair, she snapped shut the bindings on her shoes, and turned for the door. This was it. This was the day she'd been waiting for.

She opened the door, and stepped outside.




The school was as noisy as it had been the last time she'd been outside of the lab - about a month ago when she'd finally been given some free time, although what she'd been expected to do with this break, exactly, she still wasn't sure - but she shut it out as best she could, blasting loud pop-rock from some no-name artist in her headphones as she walked briskly through the halls of the academy, trying to find her way to her new classroom. Unfortunately, given that she couldn't exactly read, checking a map was out of the question, and she didn't want to take off her headset to read somebody's mind for directions for fear of being bombarded by the thoughts of those around her. The last thing she needed was to make another scene on the first day of her new start. There couldn't be too many classrooms in the first hallway of the second sector of floor 2, so finding the third one shouldn't have been too difficult - if she could just find sector 2. She was so caught up in her frustration that she almost missed the sign overhead with some text she couldn't understand and a 2 on it. Huh. That was easier than she had expected, she mused, turning off her music now that the crowds had thinned somewhat and placing her headphones back around her neck. A short while of searching later, and she found herself in the classroom - and she wasn't alone. Already, several other students were present, as was a slightly unkempt man who was evidently their teacher. Walking purposefully up to the man at the desk, she supposed it would be best to make a good impression, if only to avoid the scolding that Dr. Bessiger would invariably give her if she failed to. So, acting as she had been taught, she placed her right hand over her heart in salute, standing rigidly at attention as she reported her presence and gave a brief introduction.

"Subject 17 of the New Human Project, reporting for duty. This unit's designation is 'Lorelei.' This unit will follow all instructions provided, sir," She said quietly, her voice and expression a blank, unfeeling void as she had been taught. Her introduction completed, she gave a rigid bow, and then swiftly moved away to the far corner of the room, finding an empty desk far from the other occupants of the area, so that the voices of their minds might not reach her so easily. Staring into space, she tried her best to just ignore whatever snippets of their "voices" she did hear, not wanting to know what they already must have thought of her for fear that it might cause her to snap and forgo the disciplined exterior she had practiced for so long...

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey
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The bright early morning ray shone through the window, lighting up the neat and tidy room. Constantly maintained by its owner, the room was the perfect definition of a discipline student. Already awake like usual, Caesar was taking his time spreading over his bed sheets in a tidy manner. It was a rather easy task for him, especially since he dedicated himself to cleaning up his room and possessions as spotless as possible, what with his inability to gain advantages somewhere else. This was the least he could do to prove that he wasn't at all useless.

"You're quick as always aren't you, Caesar? I'm still very much tired here." A familiar voice rang inside his head. The same rough and commanding tone of voice that only he himself can hear. Similar to a very close brother, but their bond was something even blood-related siblings could not even possess. Nefarius, the Fae who became Caesar's only relative, had been with him for the past 10 years, along with another. He was in the form of an orange sheathed katana, resting itself next to the desk. At the hilt, there was a small circle that took up most of the hilt and a little hump protruding over the entire length of the sword.

"You are always tired, Nefarius. It's not as if you did something of great mention." Another voice vibrated inside his head. This time, a gentle and relieving one. The eldest among the trio, she is the one keeping the two brothers in check. Typically Nefarius as he is always the one feeding dangerous ideas to Caesar. Nexus was the Fae who found Caesar 10 years ago along with Nefarius. As the kind elder sister, she 'took in' Caesar and made him their youngest brother. Ever since, they had been together for as long as Caesar's memories can bring him to. Nexus now resides in the form of a dual pistol, both having black bodies and white slides.

A loud roar came from Nefarius, who objected at Nexus' claim. "What?! Of course not! Everyday, I keep my guard up to ensure Caesar is ready for a battle against those daemons anytime. There isn't a time where I failed to do it." If Nefarius had a physical body, this should be where he's be puffing out his chest proudly. "Well, thank you then, brother. I'm sure some daemons would come storming into an academy specifically built for training Hunters. Oh and let's not forget that we have a famous Hunter with the academy today." Nefarius gulped after hearing this. It seems like his objection was deflected. Caesar giggled a little and stepped up, stopping the argument. "Well, today would just be like any day. Let's do our best." Just as he said that, there was a knock on the door.

Caesar went ahead to open the door and found an android standing in front. Its metallic eyes stared right into Caesar as their difference in height made it looked like Caesar was getting bullied by an upper class-robot.

"Minamoto, Caesar. Your Homeroom has been changed to second floor room 2-2-1-3. You will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan, during your morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?" The robot announced. Its usual AI voice carried a sort of friendliness to it. The first time Caesar met with these androids, it literally made him jumped with surprise. Slowly however, he got used to it and eventually found it rather friendly as he tries to make conversations with it. Only to be disappointed that they aren't programmed to do so.

Shaking his head as a reply, he slowly closed the door as the android returned to its work. He returned to the desk and put on his equipment, a long coat that goes to the bottom of his heels and and long black scarf. "Speak of the devil. Let us move." Nexus said as she was strapped on the waist together with Nefarius. "It's about time we get some action! I can't wait to fight something again!" Suddenly gaining an intense amount of energy, Nefarius sprung back to life and was ready to face anything. Nodding to their claims, Caesar grabbed his sling bag and exited his room, locking it before he left.

His room is one the first floor, towards the opposite end of where his destination would be, so it took him some time to get to room 2-2-1-3. As he approaches closer and closer to the room, he saw a lady standing beside the door, looking out through the window. She was well-dressed and had a matured sense around her. But on her face, it was as if she missed something that she recently lost. Caesar didn't want to intrude her private moments, so before going into the room, he bowed a little to show respect to whoever she might be.

Inside was a few of his classmate already arrived before him. Unable to remember most of them, Caesar struggled to dig his past memories to reconfirm their names and faces but no results came out. But he didn't give up. If he felt familiar to even one of them, he want to remember who they were and perhaps strike up a conversation with it later. However, he just couldn't do it. Eventually, he snapped back to reality as he saw the professor sitting behind the desk. He suddenly remembered that he had been standing there for more than 10 seconds, so he quickly whimpered away to a corner of the room and took his seat, hiding his embarrassment behind his bag.

That was where he truly thanked the existence of bags. He thought that the bags were there to hide and cover his shame. Then again, probably not.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey
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Willow slipped out of her bed early as she did every morning. She knew there was no reason for her to get up so early in the mornings, especially since at the moment, she had no homeroom class to attend. She could not help herself though. It was such a well ingrained habit from her childhood home in Terrasis that she did not even bother with an alarm. Her mind was it's own clock. Always making sure she rose before the sun was able to greet the east horizon and went to bed before the midnight darkness consumed the skies. Her grandparents were firm believers in in the old adage, Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

Being the stickler for routine that she was, Willow began her morning rituals. She moved through the motions systematically. Tucking in the edges of the comforter, she tidied up her small futon tucked away in the corner of her decent sized bedroom. Leaning down to the well worn blanket, she took a deep breathe. Searching for a hint of her home's scent. Nothing. She let out her breathe and pushed herself up from her knees. She was not totally sure why she tried. Their scent had long since faded away.

Willow raised her slender arms above her head and stretched. Throwing her head back she let out a wide-mouthed yawn. With a roll of her shoulders, she continued with her schedule. Leaving her bedroom, she made her way into her small living room. Behind her modern grey suede couch on the opposite side from her sleek television, she kneeled once more on the wooden flooring. There, was the largest window in her entire dorm. It was where she had her indoor shrine in the midst of her small window garden.

Running her hands down her thighs she smoothed out her silk lavender night gown and then placed them flat on the cold wood. The tips of her index and middle touching as well as her thumbs. Dutifully she bent over in a most humble bow. Her forehead on her fingers and her nose to the ground. In a quiet, gentle whisper she began her daily prayers. Speaking fluently in the holy tongue of her religion.

"Lel twa jomenti al...Fo letimu el tsah tjumeni jah hun mu...
...Lel twa sjah lenti al fo letico...Ol tah lementi al tsah jutenija.
Al fo letia leja al tash...A la rey yo, ya.
Lyttie..Tu-liatua ruecies Systina et-Freyia.
Renies teal dear siesty litea...Rushes."


That particular prayer was just a short recital of words. There were much longer ones that she knew, but she chose to stick with this one usually. Just to keep her mornings quick and efficient. It covered the basics. Thanking the one who reigned sovereign over the planet and it's inhabitants for giving her life and protecting her. Apologizing for any malevolent intent that might have seeped into her heart before and asking him to cleanse her. Promising to do her best to bring others to the light. All that religious stuff.

Rising from her subservient position, she got to her feet and examined the plants in her garden. With butterfly-like touches she ran her fingers over their leaves, stems and flowers. Cataloging the progress they were making. Smiling, she spoke to them softly. Whispering sweet nothings to them as if they were her significant other. In a way, they were. Willow regarded all plants and animals as beings with close attachments to her. They all had a life force in them keeping them going day after day, for all she knew they could feel the same way about her.

With one hand, she grasped her small trimmers and set to work. Some of their vines were wrapping around her small alter. That could not do. With one Snip and another, she put the blades down and admired her handiwork. Reaching for her watering can, she carefully and loving gave each a drink. Making sure not to drown them or give them too little. Willow glanced out of the window and spotted the sun just beginning to rise. Giving the sky a strange, but beautiful mish-mash of colors. She was right on time. The best time to water your plants was right before the sun rose. It stimulated faster root growth. Well, of course she did not need to go through that whole process like others might. After all she was quite skilled in the field of nature magick. With a single stroke she could make all of these flowers bloom even if they were not in season. But she did not. One, it was against the rules to use ones magick if not in critical need of them or given specific permission. And two, she enjoyed watching them grow on their own. With her gently nourishing them, nudging them forward like a mother. It gave her a sense of pride when they finally bloomed. Putting her watering can down, she gave them one last smile before getting ready for the day.

Getting ready always took her the most amount of time. Stepping into her spacious bathroom, Willow turned on the shower and let her gown fall from her body. Getting inside, she felt her muscles relax as the heated water pelted her bare skin. Quickly grabbing her soap, she began to cleanse herself. Starting with the top of her head and hair, she made her way down. Soon enough, she was rinsed and out, wrapped snugly in a towel. One for her body and another for her hair. She slipped into one of her usual simple dresses and wiggled her feet into some tall lace-up shoes. Pulling her towel from her head she let her pale lavender hair fall to her knees. As she braided it tightly, she pondered if she should get it hair cut. Biting her lip, she shook her head to herself. No. She was too sentimental for that.

Rummaging through her compact refrigerator, she found the leftovers she saved from the night before. Throwing it in the microwave for a minute she said a quick prayer over the food and sat down to eat. It was a small meal. A glass of water, two biscuits with a honey spread, but it was filling nonetheless. When she was finished, she cleaned her already spotless kitchen and prepared to go out for the day. She needed to find something to do before her afternoon classes. Willow slid her small ocarina onto her neck, her wooden staff onto her back, and messanger bag over her shoulder.

Opening the door to enter the hallway she released a startled yelp. With it's hand poised to knock on her door was an AI. Willow placed a hand on her chest and calmed her breathing as the AI stared at her. Seemingly waiting for her to get her bearings together. She cocked her head to the side and smiled at it, a signal for it to continue on with what is was programmed to do.

"Uskose, Willow. Your Homeroom has been changed to second floor room 2-2-1-3. You will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan, during your morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?" The artificial intelligence recited and waited for her response. Willow mulled it over before shaking her head. She was returning to class!

"No. Thank you, very much for telling me though." She replied politely. Giving the robot a shallow bow. It turned on it's heel and left her without another word. Willow, could hardly contain herself. Shutting her door behind her she sprinted down the hallways and staircases. Eager to get to her new homeroom. So it seemed that she was not being dismissed from the academy and now, she even had The Asher Donovan as her teacher.

Reaching room 2213, Willow hesitated for a moment. Her nerves chose to get the better of her right then. Curses. Taking a deep breathe, she steeled herself and pulled her immensely long and thick braid over her shoulder. Grasping the handle to the door, she twisted and pushed forward. Walking into the room gracefully, she showed no hint of her nerves. Stopping in front Mr. Donovan's desk, she bowed respectfully low. The end of her braid touched the ground and she rose. With a sweet smile, she introduced herself. "Willow Uskose. I am honored to make your acquaintance Professor Donovan."

She turned and quickly headed to a seat. Choosing one in the front row, she slid into it. Putting her satchel and staff on the floor beside her. Deciding it could not hurt to be friendly, she twisted her back and looked behind her at the boy who she was seated directly in front of (Robin) and flashed him a small, but bright smile. "Morning."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey
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#, as written by Ahri
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Kenji lay sleeping on a park bench as his familiar poked at his face in an attempt to wake him up. Every once in a while a person would casually stroll on by giving strange glances towards the guy sleeping on a park bench being poked at by what seemed as a cat. This was not unlike Kenji though as he had to live this sort of a life style because of his grades. School has never been his strong suit and studying was a daemon all of it's own to fight for Kenji, and considering he never liked to study it never got easier. That combined with his lack of will to pay attention school what was not what he expected, his vision was a battle of strength and will the person who was strongest rained supreme. Sadly this was not so, intelligence and tactical styles with a mix of precision and strength all combined into making a good student. Only having half of that has kept him pretty far from the title of valedictorian.

Not to mention it also made so the fact he earned an almost minimum when it came to allowance. For a while he had been rooming with a somewhat friend it was good, but having to keep his tail a secret when rooming with someone is hard. On top of the fact that he was kicked out yesterday because Kenji has a habit of leaving a messy room and when you are told to pick up and your answer is "uh..ya...on day." While reading book you can get into a situation that you may not have wanted. That is exactly where Kenji is, reduced to sleeping on a park bench, but he has saved up a bit of money since rent was free and he ate the bare minimum keeping good track of money and what he was spending it on.

After a solid ten minutes of his face being prodded by his familiar he finally awake. Looking around he had a stupidly happy smile on his face, but after noticing where he was and feeling his back his expression turned into a part silly sad face. Standing up and having a good stretch with his spine cracking with ounce of pressure put on it. "Note to self find a place to stay and soon. Bench's equal bad for your back it seems." He said while looking at Riku.

Riku hopped onto Kenji's shoulder and they started to set off towards the city to get some food. Twenty-minutes later after a quick bite and almost getting into a brawl, which is the usual for Kenji, he returned to the bench which had turned into a semi-home for now. Just as he dropped down on to the bench and closed his eyes getting ready to go take a nap a voice was heard right over his shoulder. With a glance back an android was standing there ready to say something. "Kenji Yamanaka, your home room has been changed to Second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquires?"

Kenji looked back at the android with a puzzled face . This was either really good because now he wouldn't have to worry about being dropped from the school. Or it could be bad since this means a return to the curse of having to study or for him not studying. Snapping back to reality he turns from the android throwing up a hand as he walks away towards the school. "No, I'm fine go back to whatever you were doing." He said as if it was more of a annoyance then anything else. As he walked he tried to think of the name Asher Donovan, Kenji could have sworn he had heard it somewhere, but he couldn't recall because most likely he wasn't really paying attention so he must not be that important.

His habit of picking fights had seemed to not diminish at all almost getting into a couple brawls just on his way to school. When he got to school he noticed his nickname The Blue Devil or Monster didn't seem to go away even without him causing trouble on campus itself for sometime, though that was bound to change soon enough since he couldn't be away from fights for long. Reaching the school and it seemed as if he would finally get back to clearing this world of its evils be it the daemons or humans who would act as daemons. It didn't matter to him as long as in the end this world was a better place Kenji has no problems becoming the monster needed to accomplish that, just as he had done once before. The class room was finally in sight which hopefully he wasn't going to be the first, but not last either as he is usually late this time he may have gotten lucky because of the bench and it being a poor choice of comfort. Opening the door to the room it seemed as if their were already quite a few people inside. It didn't seem as if he was late which might be something that should be praised as his first and last time.

All his excitement to get back to school to hunt down some daemons seemed to fade the second he opened the door realizing that normal school also had a factor. He sighed looking at the new teacher with an un-entertained expression. "Hey, I'm Kenji." He said with as little effort as needed. Giving a half wave along with it he dragged himself towards the back of the class room taking a seat there. Taking his wrapped swords off his back and placing it against his desk he sat down placing his arms on the desk and resting his head on them. Still keeping his head up though so that he could check out his other classmates trying to pick out who he was going to avoid, and checking out the girls picking out the cutest. His secret technique of storing all his energy during class by putting in almost no effort so that he would have double outside and during fights was now an official go.




Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey
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#, as written by Zalgo
Joe & Frank


Crash! Crunch! "2-2-'BZZZRT-1-3" Zap, Crunch.

A cacophony of metallic crushing and electronic buzzing sounds just barely reached Joe through the haze of his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight burning as it met with his vision. After a few moments Joe found himself where he last left himself going to bed last night: A bench out on school grounds, Frank wrapped around his area. His summon, a rather significantly large trash dragon named Frank, had just swatted a robot who had made the time old mistake of walking up to a dragon without loudly announcing itself. Then again, to the untrained optic sensor his dragon looked like little more than a trash heap when prone.

"Ah heck. They're probably gonna charge me fer that." Joe shrugged. "Ah well, don't matter none too much.
Never had much a need for money. Just means I'm gonna need ta find some meals fer a bit." Lazily he picked himself off the bench and stretched. The remains of the robot were pulled into Frank. The pieces that weren't completely crushed into slag in the first hit were ground into pure junk by the shifting wood, steel and stone that comprised of it's body. Raising it's head Frank was about the size of a small warehouse in both height at the shoulder and length from nose to tail tip. With the robot slag pulled into it it was now at the cusp of it's maximum mass limit. It was not an inconsiderable creature but Joe felt it could use to be bigger, something he hoped he would figure out how to do at this school.


Despite having had barely woken up Joe recalled the numbers the flattened robot blurted out in it's last moments.
"That probably somethin' important. I'd better do some sleuthin'." He concluded, walking on his way to find something corresponding with the numbers. Given their arrangement they seemed to relate closest to room numbers. Either that or it was a phone number it didn't get to finish. He'd find out soon enough.

Joe hadn't had any missions since the last teacher died and quite frankly he didn't mind all that much. The free time gave him plenty of peace and quiet but there was always those rumors that buzzed around about inactive students getting booted. He wasn't really scared of that but getting tossed out would be inconvenient. He wanted to find out as much as he needed to know from this place before ditching it like his last place and taking to the road.


When he got to the entrance to the building he looked up to Frank. The dragon's face was expressionless as it was just a bunch of garbage arranged into a dragon shaped head but he could still tell it wasn't happy with him going somewhere it couldn't fit. It was just a knack Joe picked up after all these years of living with Frank.
"Look buddy, I swear I'm not going to be too far out of reach. I think the room probably has a window you can look through.
I'll call 'ya over when I find it alright? Try not to wreck anything alright?" He reassured Frank. The dragon sat down and simply waited, a clear enough signal for Joe to go through with it.

Eventually he found the door with the number the robot had blurted out in it's death throes.
"Well, hope I ain't wrong here." He spoke mostly to himself as he pushed his way in through the door. Inside was a rather eclectic gathering of the more unusual students. There was a teacher he didn't really know anything about and well, that was about it. He'd of cared more about the details but he didn't think it was of much importance. Simply striding through he went over and opened a window, sticking his head out. He gave a loud sharp whistle which rang out across the general area.
"Yo, Frank! I found the right place!" He yelled out hoping Frank heard him. He turned away from the window a moment over towards the teacher. "This is the right place, right?" He asked, hoping he didn't just walk into a classroom uninvited and disrupt everything. That would be mildly embarrassing, nothing too bad for him though. The biggest nuisance would be having to explain himself.

The whole room shuddered with each step of it's large feet. It was a gentle rumble at first but as it got closer the room shook quite a bit as Frank parked himself right outside the window, causing one last big thud as it sat. Though it didn't seem to have eyes of any sort it's head was looking in through the windows at Joe. "See Frank, I told 'ya it was gonna be fine." He told Frank through the open window. It's blank emotionless mass of trash that he calls a head didn't change at all but Joe was sure it got the idea. With that said Joe grabbed the seat closest to the window, always welcoming a chance to sit and rest whenever he gets the chance.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey
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#, as written by YuumanN
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For the first time in a while, the thought came to him again.

β€œWell, these things happen.”

Months had passed, and Lev still couldn’t think of anything more than that apathetic phrase when the image of their former teacher, killed in a mission, appeared in his mind. Admittedly, this somewhat worried him.

It had been the first time in his life a person close to him – at least in the sense that they saw each other almost every day – was taken by Daemons and, contrary to what he had initially expected, it didn’t affect him that much. It did take him by surprise when he heard the news and even got him wondering how such a tragedy could have occurred to a Huntress he had always perceived as careful and reliable, but minutes later he was more preoccupied with how he would face his numerous fees with the limited budget he received from the Academy and the following weekend he hadn’t spared a single second of thought on her.

He didn’t appear to be the only one though. Fellow Hunters seemed at a loss during the week when she died, wondering if the incident had occurred due to a malfunction, a mistake or an irregularity of a different sort, but eventually people ran out of curiosity on the matter and it was as good as settled. It made sense; they were at war and even if they didn’t have access to the exact numbers as they were still in training, students in the Academy could figure out many men and women died each day. Daemons didn’t rest or mourn, and there was no noticeable sign that their numbers were decreasing, so how could humanity spare time and resources for those who had fallen?

Still, this woman had shared wisdom with those who would become the next generation of humanity’s vanguard against Daemons to ensure its survival in the future, and in her spare time joined Hunters in the field to fight like a soldier. There was no way that such a lifestyle had left her any time to form a family of her own or pursue any ambitions. Almost her entire life, from late childhood to death, had been sacrificed to fight for humanity, which was more than the overwhelming majority of people could say, and still it was most likely that a decade from now no one would remember her face or even her name. No; that was a privilege that was saved only for those who knew when to die, made beautiful speeches to earn a cozy seat in one of the major cities’ government or, even better, were willing to print their faces on pop magazines so that a new generation of teenagers could grow up with propaganda-fueled dreams of unrealistic glory.

But
β€œthese things happen” indeed.

Maybe what bothered Lev was the acknowledgement that, as selfish and despicable as this society that ignored the genuine devotion of a brave woman resulted to him, he would still prove exactly the same as them.

Perhaps, despite his attempts to convince himself that he was fighting for mankind and not for himself, he was scared of facing the fact that his efforts would still make him no more than a nameless soldier in history at most.

Or maybe he had too much free time to spend thinking on pointless trails of thought.


β€œOI! OI LEV! FUCKING OI!”

Suddenly, the surrounding background he had been pushing back in his mind brusquely recovered its colors and life; the sound of heavy machinery at work and raspy voices of middle-aged men and women screaming obscenities at each other echoed in his eardrums again and demanded his attention, prompting him to wonder how he had been able to space out in the first place. He sought the voice that called his name through the framed visor of his face shield and soon spotted a short-haired and generously bearded man he recognized as Gene, one of the more experienced workers and student supervisors.

β€œSum n’droid β€˜ere s’got a messige for ya or sumthin’. It’s in da way, so go lissen to it so it leaves awlready!” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation or the fact that he was in a hurry.

Lev freed one of his hands to signal an β€˜ok’ to his boss, who stormed off expressing his distaste for androids in mumbles to no one in particular, making an exemplary use of the word β€˜fuck’ and all its known variables plus a few others. Good guy though. Occasionally.

Putting his tools away, Lev made his way to the entrance of the Academy’s arsenal, where he had been spending all his mornings for the past few months. All Scholar students in their last obligatory year were required to complete a certain amount of hours of actual work in their discipline, among other tasks, and seeing as he already visited the arsenal with some frequency, it was no surprise he ended up resorting to it to complete his academic duties. He had actually fulfilled this requirement some time ago, but since he had no morning classes ever since the death of his home room teacher, he preferred spending his time there helping with the avalanche of work the mechanics found themselves underneath of due to the increased frequency of Hunter deployments.

Every single day there were new jeeps, tanks, boats, swords, guns, androids and ammunition to repair, upgrade or manufacture, and they were always running late. Able hands were never missing and there were no restrictions on going over the minimum service hours, so Lev’s presence was always welcomed and appreciated. Besides, this way he got to see all sorts of newly developed machinery, even if he wasn’t allowed to actually work on the most expensive ones.

He opened the entrance door and, sure enough, an android waited with infinite patience on the other side. Standing uncomfortably close to Lev, it seemed to instantly identify him.

β€œKeisting, Lev. Your home room has been changed to second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia. Do you have any inquiries?”

Expecting a less relevant message, it took the young man a few seconds to process what he had heard. He checked his ancient wristwatch and briefly wondered why he would be notified in such a short notice of his new schedule, but figured his intercom, which he had left in the locker room, would be filled with messages of failed attempts to communicate with him a while ago.

β€œNo, you can go.” He finally answered the android’s question as he remembered it was still waiting for his response without the slightest sign of apprehension, and instantly closed the door on it. The last ad Lev had heard consisted on a jingle with choreography included, which only made him feel ashamed on the robot’s behalf. Besides, some of the mechanics in the armory had taken to vandalizing the robots as a way to express their discontent when they showed up merely to promote their commercial, and if any of them saw it, it could only mean trouble for everyone.

Having no time to waste, Lev broke the news to Gene and left for his dorm, where he had to fight a mountain of broken machinery and spare parts to get to the bathroom. He showered, changed into his uniform and saved the disassembled parts of his firearms into a wheeled bag in record time, taking special care with his β€˜Stingray’ sniper rifle.

Even with the heavy additional weight, he managed to keep a good pace and found his new classroom in only a few minutes despite being more concentrated on trying to remember where he had heard the name Asher Donovan rather than keeping track of where he was going. Before entering, he stationed and chained the large bag outside the class, seeing as it was too large to keep inside without it inconveniencing people. Though he did notice Noel appreciating the view through a window with a distinct air of nostalgia around her, he had no words of encouragement to share, and decided to go straight into the unknown.

As he stepped into the classroom and took in the image of his new teacher and classmates, he waited a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He finally remembered why Asher’s name seemed so familiar, and recognized his face from the cover of one of those magazines some girls around the Academy always seemed to have at hand. Although he was sure his new professor was a reliable and capable Hunter, the idea of learning under a pop idol didn’t fascinate him, and for many reasons. He then turned his attention towards the students; most of them seemed to be busy doing their own things, one of them was asleep, and there was a dragon sculpture made of trash peeking through a window… good vibrations all β€˜round.

β€œMornin’” he greeted the room with an unenthusiastic tone, briefly noticing in terror that Gene's dialect was slowly rubbing off on him. β€œLev Keisting.” he added when he noticed the checklist on top of Asher’s desk.

With nothing to add or comment, Lev scanned the room for a free seat and headed straight for the last row. The only ones close to being neighbors to him were Caesar and Lorelei, both having already taken the corners of the classroom and each sitting a distance of two or three desks away from him. Having nothing more to do, he sat back and patiently waited for the rest of the students to show up.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei"
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"You really have no clue how to be patient, do you."

Nico responded to the voice of her teacher with an exaggerated moan as she flopped belly-first onto her bed that lay against the wall of her dorm room. Since coming to the academy a year ago, she'd only spoke with the man who took her in on certain occasions. Or rather, when she had something she needed to complain about. This particular occasion centered around the three months that she'd gone without a single mission, despite having confronted the moderates multiple times.

"Three months, Master Mako. THREE! How much longer does she have to be dead before they start giving me my well-deserved missions?"

"You shouldn't say that about your late teacher. It's a sad thing to have lost a fellow hunter."

Nico turned onto her side and lifted her head, resting it on her palm with her elbow pressed against her pillow. Mako's face was displayed on a screen that floated above Nico's desk placed beside the bed, the window above it just barely letting the weak light of sunrise shine through the curtains that hung over it. Her teacher was a young looking man, despite being in his late thirties, with bright green eyes and sandy hair that had grown long enough to be pulled back into a loose pony tail. Behind him was the desert home in Ura that Nico had lived in for four years.

"I guess her class wasn't too boring, but I don't see much of a loss here."

Mako gave a sigh, knowing that no matter what he might say, Nico would just brush it off. She wasn't the type to be effected heavily by the death of others. Even if it were someone close to her, she'd be able to move on quite easily. Being broken up over every loss would just hold her back as a hunter anyway. Besides, it's not as if she saw that woman as anything more than a teacher. Just someone who was there to aid her in her way to becoming strong enough to survive. Clearly she wasn't fit for the job since she just went and got herself killed.

"Where's J. and Fawn?", her teacher asked curiously, though he had already guessed why the two familiars weren't present.

Nico narrowed her eyes slightly, an awkward frown showing on her face. She wanted to avoid the subject of the two fae that had decided to follow her when they fled her old home. She never did get along with them well, even when they belonged to her mother. They were stingy and bossy, always telling Nico what was proper and what was improper for a lady to be doing. Especially Fawn, with her prissy attitude.

"Hmph! I don't need them around. I'll summon way cooler familiars. Just watch me!"

Actually, she'd tried multiple times in the past to do just that, but hasn't been very successful. Mako opened his mouth to reply, a look of annoyance being a clear sign of a incoming lecture, however there was a loud ping at the door and Nico quickly jumped to her feet. "Looks like I got a visitor! I'll talk to you again soon!", she said with a smile, closing down the screen before her teacher could reply. She hurried to the door and opened it to find one of the school's androids standing there. Ever since she'd accidentally broken her comm, she'd had quite a few of these guys stop by to relay messages. She really did mean to go get that thing fixed, not that the androids bothered her.

"What can I do for ya?"

Erenheart, Nicolla, your home room has been changed to Second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquires?

Her eyes widened slightly, a tremor of excitement running over her as she listened to the androids words. She turned around and grabbed the chair from the desk, dragged it across the room to the doorway, and then stepped up onto it to pat the android on the head as she finally replied. "That'll do. You have a nice day, Thomas!" This is what she called every android. A fitting name, indeed.

She then leaped from the chair and closed the door before the ad that she knew would follow could begin. She thought they were actually pretty entertaining sometimes, or at least when they included music and dancing to go along, but right now she was too preoccupied with her excitement. It was about time they assigned her a new homeroom teacher. The name of the professor sounded familiar for a second, but it escaped her as she hurried to shower and get dressed.

Next step, finding out where this room 2-1-2-3 was. 'Or wait..was is 2-3-1-1? That doesn't sound right eith--' "2-2-1-3!", she said as she passed by a door with numbers that caught her eye. With a deep breath, she raised her foot and kicked, causing the door to fly open as she hopped inside. Stopping just far enough away from the door so that it wouldn't hit her as it shut, she raised her hand up in a quick wave.

"Yo! Nico Erenheart, reporting for duty!", she lowered her hand and gave a more or less sloppy salute, her teeth pressed together as she gave not only the teacher, but the rest of the class a bright smile. She let her hands rest at her side and she gave a small, quick bow before turned to find her seat, her eyes scanning over each student, plus the strange-looking dragon, before her eyes locked onto where she decided to sit. She hurried up to the back row and flopped down into the seat right next to a girl with the black and white hair that had caught Nico's attention.

"You're really pretty!", she said cheerfully, crossing her arms on the desk in front of her and lowering her voice just slightly so not to shout.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei"
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#, as written by Kapento
Cuddy Vann



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It was very strange, even still, to be this far from his sandy homeland. Cuddy, although thrilled to be at the Academy could not help but desire to see even an inch of sand once more. Just think of the sandcastles! But he'd put this behind him for now. There was more important things at hand to contend with. Such as the particular android that had been hunting down Cuddy that morning, with a supposedly important message for him, and unfortunately had found the boy hiding in an old closet. Why? Well why not dude! Where else you gonna hide?

"Vann, Cuddy, your home room has been changed to second floor room, 2213, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquiries?" The android spoke in a matter-of-fact soulless voice.

"A-Ah don't think so! But if I eva' do then I'll be sure to let you know." The blonde boy answered cheerfully, his purple-y orbs glancing curiously over the talking-thing. What was it again? Android. Cuddy was still coming to grips with all the gizmos that the academy had, least of all the androids. It wasn't like he was completely oblivious to them but the little chit-chatty things were something of an annoyance to him now and again. Especially since they always managed to find him. "Oh well, ta-ta for now I guess. Next time tho' I'll win that round!"

Grabbing his things together and throwing a bag halfheartedly over his shoulder the boy made sure to be prepared for whatever came his way that day, taking a moment to double-check once more, before finally continuing on his way down the hallway. The android took it's leave and rushed off past him, Cuddy merely huffing with a shrug before walking just a little bit quicker. I better not be late or I'll look bad yo!

His hurried walk gradually shifted into a panicked run as the boy made his way to the designated classroom. Naturally, what with all the hurrying and mad-dashing, Cuddy arrived in time. With a deep breath and forced coolio demeanour the blonde lad sported his commonly used smile and stepped into the room. By the looks of it there was already a bunch load of people there before him, but he wasn't worried. Promptly walking over to the desk of Mr. Donovan the boy thought best to let his attendance be known. He sure-as-hell wasn't getting marked as absent!

"Oh, hello Mr. Donovan, sir! I'm Cuddy Vann. I hope am' not late or nothin'." With a somewhat chilled approach to his teacher Cuddy merely widened his smile in hopes of things getting off to a good start. "Well, I best be gettin' to my seat and all, a-- Oh yeah, your thee Asher Donovan? Wow-oh-wow I can't believe it! Hey I'm a real fan a--" Beneath all the rambling a quiet little inner voice deep in his head was telling Cuddy to shut-up. Needless to say it took a few more minutes before the boy took any notice. "Ah, sorry I best be goin'!"

Turning on his heel the student moved along and sat himself down on one of the seats towards the front. He hadn't really took the time to notice who exactly was in his class, but after spinning round on his seat the blonde lad eyed up all the faces near and around him, only really vaguely knowing a few. Oh well. He figured he'd get to know them soon enough anyway. For now he'd just behave himself at least.

Throwing his bag to the floor and chilling in his chair Cuddy waited to see what happened next. However, the whole lookin' cool and doin' not a lot act didn't last long. Before he knew it the boy dug out an old what-dah-call-it and was fiddling around and tinkering as always.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Vivian Qrow Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Joseph Rex
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Image"F*cking crying out loud, leave me alone dammit!" A voice cursed, as various of slapping noises followed after it. The violent set of words echoed in the hallways, and students began to murmur among themselves, wondering how crude a person could get.. clearly they never met her.
"But Ms. Qrow why are you so angry?" A robot replied, its robotic voice underlined with curiosity, somehow ignoring the fact that it was being being slapped...

The said Ms. Qrow swiveled on the soles of her feet, before gritting her teeth at the damn robot. "Because its way to early for this and don't call me Ms!" With that she charged off, not wanting to hear the robots very last words of 'But its the afternoon..' She resisted the urge to pull at her purple hair, 'That robot is going to be scrap pieces one day.' She thought, enjoying the idea of pulling it apart one by one- "You have been assigned a new home room teacher, please report to..." Vivian blinked out of her fantasy, before pulling out her Comm. She stared at the screen for a moment before grinning. "Finally." Stuffing the piece of tech into her pockets, she looked around then trotted off. She's been sick of these afternoon courses, and it made her realize how grateful she was for an assigned class.. well not really, but it was nice to be in something more meaningful.

Hopefully the professor wasn't a prick.

Walking down the destined hallway, she pulled on her headphones and began to listen to a list of her favorite tracks which was surprisingly classical- not anything crazy and wild which would suit her appearance far more. Vivian never explained to anyone, but the kind of music she listens to is the kind that makes her feel relaxed and calm.. not the 'sh*tty' ghetto stuff. No one would believe her though since the students saw her as a rebel, and thug- someone you should stay clear of. And this isn't exactly true, for she does have a temper and her appearance doesn't scream proper either. Even with policy, she wears her usual shorts and black midriff that shows too much skin, but she claims that the lack of coverage increases her skill and agility. No one questioned her.

Otherwise, Her rep was quite apparent, seeing how students eyed her wearily in the hall, backing off in fears of triggering her ill temper. But she doesn't even give a damn, a waste of her time it is. (But she does admit, it was fun to play around with the fearful in the beginning) She snickered at the memories of screaming kiddies who saw a glance of guns. Good memories.
Yawning, she checked her comm once more, before looking at a door. The corners of her lips twitched, before she opened the door. Inside she saw a few familar faces, but its been a while so her memory was a bit hazy.
A total lie. If anything, Vi knew most anything about anyone of the students here, this knowledge may be due to the fact that she got some connections on the streets or the fact that she was a scholar. (Shocker) It doesn't matter however, she just likes to have the comfort of knowing the people around her. "Morning!" She grinned wickedly, eyeing the teacher for a moment before leaning against a desk. She gave him a polite smile, or the best she can sum up, "Nice to meet you, Im Vivian Qrow." Her eyes twinkled before she headed towards a desk to sit down.

[Little rushed, but ill fix it up]

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: Duran Ledford Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann
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#, as written by Kestrel
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β€œAbout time they stopped wasting our potential.”

The classroom door opened in a fell swoop, and in it's wake stood - complete with waving cape, golden ornaments and a v-neck as low as his midriff: Duran Ledford. The young man had a sour smile on his lips, although it wasn't meant for any of his classmates, nor their new professor. Briskly, Duran strutted past the student desks, and before even reaching it, he telekinetically pulled a seat at the front of the class back for himself, though he didn't sit just yet. Instead, his cape dwindled from his shoulders (landing and tightly folding itself over his seat) while Duran took a moment to look around the classroom.

β€œHm,” He sighed, briefly hiding his face in his right palm. β€œI suppose this is no way to introduce myself.” Duran murmured, then dropped his shoulders and recomposed himself. β€œFirst things first,” The young man spoke up more vividly. β€œProfessor Donovan, it's an honour to attend your classes. I look forward to learning from such a prestigious individual. Sharing your experience with our generation is truly noble.”

Duran turned around, facing his classmates. His lips mimed a few names as his notebook (appearing from god knows where) floated towards his hand, then browsed through the pages all on it's own. β€œAs some of you already know, I am Duran Ledford. Slayer and, I doubt I still need to mention this-” Duran grinned as his red-covered an leather-bound notebook made a small twirl in the space above his hand, β€œ-Medium. Welcome back to class.”

With a slight and stiff bow, Duran finally took his seat. His neighbour was a boy-ish looking lad with white hair (like him.) β€œCuddy Vann, right?” He asked his classmate, pen and paper already in Duran's hands. β€œI don't think we've met.”

Cuddy wasn't the only thing drawing Duran's attention however. He couldn't help but overhear the conversation between his classmates in the back rows of the classroom. Now this wasn't uncommon, as Duran's mind could space all over the place, but the particular instance was different. Upon hearing Lorelei's reply to Nico's compliment, Duran couldn't help but roll his eyes and think I don't know, suppose if you could try to be less of a total bitch. Still, his pen was already scribbling notes. Girl with two-tinted hair, does not handle noise well. He wrote down, then marking it for future editing when he'd learn her name. It was something with an L, but Duran wasn't sure...

β€œOh, sorry about that, a little distraction there.” Duran apologised to Cuddy for having immediately spaced out after entering conversation. He let go of his pen and put forward his hand, as the pen started to outline borders on the paper by itself. β€œPut her there.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann
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"And we begin."
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fΡ”Ρ”lΓ­ng:
Relfective, Slightly nervous, Eager
lσcαtíσn:
Anthemia Academy
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fΡ”Ρ”β„“ΞΉΠΈg:
Hungover, Exhausted, Slightly Nauseated
ℓσ’αтισи:
Anthemia Academy
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"Asher greets each of the students just like he would any colleague, the small nods, the appreciative smiles, the sometimes not so welcoming greetings. He expected as much from such a colorful union personalities, he looked rather nostalgically at the group, he was faintly reminded of his own graduating class, his mind wondering just where those people were now. Asher took this time to clear his throat and finally address the class, but it wasn't before Noel walked into the room, quite obviously annoyed by the fact that she had to be called here of all places so early in the morning. With only a glace his way, she spoke in a tone that matched her attitude, scratching her head in futility. β€œSo you’re the old geezer who’s going to be teaching us? At least your kinda good looking or else this class would have been a real drag…”

She says this with absolutely no hesitation, no realization of her tone. Asher felt his cheeks prick slightly, more in confusion than flattery, before the mocha skinned girl took her seat in the front, dropping her body like a bag of potatoes, and stuffing her head into her arms, as the rest of the class continued talking, or maybe even looking at their classmate. β€œWell…If we aren’t expecting any more interruptions. I notice that some of your classmates have yet to arrive, this shouldn’t take too long, maybe some of you can get them up to speed. Anyhow, I not sure how many of you are aware of who am I, not that it matters. You can call me Asher or Ash for short, Iβ€˜m your new home room teacher.

I am sincerely mournful about your past teacher’s death, we were close colleagues, upon her death she asked me to continue her research, she, much like all of you, was a student of another kind. Someone who didn’t have the ease of having a teacher, but found that after this Academy, there was more about this world than any text book could teach. Me and her were observers of a sort, seeking a truth beyond what governments and companies hammered into our heads. I don’t wish to get into the complexities of the situation, and honestly this class should not be used to push any agendas. Just know, that she died for a noble cause, her ideas was perhaps not to kill Daemons, but understand them. I hope in imparting this information to you, that you’re all a little more open minded about the situation at hand, and maybe realize that we as a race of beings, aren’t all innocent in the scheme of things. Anyhow, enough with the depressing mood, we should just get down to business. ”


Asher moved to the front of his desk, holding a document in his hand to specify his next move.

’Today we’ll be doing an exercise, we’ll be going down to the training fields for this, for the rest of the year you all will be in teams for missions that we may go on. In fact, a week from now, we’ll be starting our first mission after we get all the introductions finished here. I’ve sorted you all by what I believe to be the best combinations for a team. If you feel you’ll have troubles with your new teammates, you can always talk privately with me, let’s begin."

    Team 1:
    Kenji Yamamaka
    Esra Alkard
    Altham Haytham

    Team 2
    Joseph Rex
    Amurel Sarcadia
    Hector Kazuhira

    Team 3
    Willow Petra Uskose
    Robin Damian Grey
    Duran Ledford

    Team 4:
    Caesar Minamoto
    Lorelei
    Nico Erenheart

    Team 5:
    Maddox Forester
    Cuddy Vann
    Allura Carrington

    Team 6:
    Lev Keisting
    Vivian Qrow
    Noel Audrey Rose

"Hopefully that suits all of you, get situated, in a few minutes we’ll be heading towards the training room for the exercise I talked about before. β€œ

He says this with a positive tone, hoping that even from his own superficial standpoint that he choose the right teams, the students here didn’t seem too argumentative or anything, this was his colleague class not his though, he couldn’t help but think that something was bound to go amiss.




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"Teammates??"
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ο½†ο½…ο½…ο½Œο½‰ο½Žο½‡:
Anxious, Shy
ο½ƒο½•ο½’ο½’ο½…ο½Žο½”ο½Œο½™ at:
Anthemia Academy

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Maddox notes the shift in the room at the announcement, the wait was over, and he wasn’t sure how to feel. Others hardly knew him beyond the walls that he usually erect around himself, but teams was a little out of the ordinary for a classroom setting. Surely others were looking at their potential companions, some maybe feeling a little anxious about it all. Maddox was never good at measuring reactions. Regardless he took the initiative, despite not really knowing much about them he aimed his sights on his new partners, trying to eliminate the uncomfortable feeling he got from his predatory anxiety symptoms. He walked up to what he considered to be the perky blonde of the classroom, noting his excitable nature, a completely contrast to the probably grey tones of himself. He was completely convinced that he had what he wanted to say right at the tip of his tongue, but it came out far less standard than he wanted.

"Ah...I-I'm Maddox, nice to meet you..."

He held out his hand sheepishly at the awkward greeting. Somehow he knew that ignoring his speech classes was going to impede him somehow.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Duran Ledford Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose
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Robin observed his classmates and smiled inwardly that most were familiar faces from his last class. Some of the newer faces almost freaked him out but he learned to try and contain them as best as possible. He felt sure that he wouldn't panic for any reason shape or form. It was then she came.

Beautiful looks, amazing charm and grace, Miss Willow appeared and gave her introductions to the new teacher before sitting in the chair nearest to him! "Do not panic Robin...she's not doing anything but sitting in front of you. Don't be nervous. Don't freak out!" came the rushing thoughts in his head. She actually then turned her head towards him and actually talked to him! She bade him a good morning. He felt himself almost turning red, and against his pale skin, it showed.

"G-good morning, M-miss Willow. L-lovely day, isn't it? he managed to spit out before he made a bigger fool of himself. His mind literally wanted to pour his heart out to her but he didn't want to breach their speaking friendship by doing a fiendish act like that. But he admitted he knew he had some feelings but he had to keep those close and secret.

When everyone was settled Professor Donovan gave his introduction and stated his lesson plan whilst giving a small condolence for the past teacher they had. Then he assigned mission groups. He was paired with Miss Willow and Duran Ledford. He knew Duran was from his Mother's home country, Aeralis. She told him often of her struggles to survive and how his father literally swept her off her feet during her time in Anthemia. It was a slight scandal on Anima, but his Father spent more time helpings he other cities with his ship that he paid Anima and its political airheadedness no heed.

His father also taught him to not be like Anima. So he wasn't. He gave a small shy smile to Willow. "Well I guess we're gonna be teammates huh Miss Willow?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Vivian Qrow Character Portrait: Althaia Psykhe Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart
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#, as written by Golgari
The wind around the school always tasted like lemons. It was one of the few universal constants of this world. The sun rises in the east, water is a liquid and Anthemia air tasted like lemons. Altam licked his lips, trying to savor the sweet breeze. It was a nice change from the sandy gusts of Ura, where he'd spent his whole time out of class. He reached behind him and patted his treasures to make sure they were still secure in the bag. Though not nearly as fruitful as his previous foray into the desert, he had stumbled upon an abandoned village and picked up some neat souvenirs for Cuddy and a few others. Honestly Altam was amazed the school's robot was able to find him. He wasn't exactly a technomaster but they had to be rocking some pretty good locating software to find him in the middle of a desert.

"Hey Shamal, you don't think the teacher's gonna be mean, do you?" the boy asked, his voice as light as the cloth they were riding on. The wooden staff shook in his hands.

'I still can't believe I know who he is and you don't. I'm a million year old wind spirit and even I've heard of the incredible Asher Donovan!' The boy shrugged and fell backwards onto the quickly moving sheet. Though the air had changed, it would still be a good ten minutes until they arrived at the school. Altam squirmed with excitement. He had so many stories to tell and songs to play that he didn't even know where to begin.

It wasn't long before the landscape gave way to stone walkways and large buildings. He peered over the side of his carpet and marveled at the sheer lack of people outside. "Everyone must be in class." He said matter-of=factly. It was about a minute of aimless flying later that it dawned on him. He wasn't in class! With as much speed as he could muster Altam raced towards the largest building, looking through the windows at a breakneck pace for Cuddy's cute face. However, what caught his attention wasn't his B.F.F but a gigantic metallic dragon hovering in front of a window. Altam yelled in relief.

"Frank! Am I glad to see you!" The dragon turned and acknowledged the boy before turning back to observe his master. Sliding up beside him, Altam lifted the window up just enough to fly through and floated into the room, quickly followed by a swift breeze.

"Sorry I'm late, I flew as fast as I could!" He hopped off his turban into thin air, hovering above the ground as the blanket wrapped itself back around his head. he floated into cuddy at top speed, embracing his friend in a hug and whisking them both higher into the air. "Cuddy! I missed you so much! I have sooooo much to tell you about what I found!" A small grunt emanated from the front of the room. The new teacher no doubt. After placing his friend gently on the ground Altam reluctantly landed and weakly strode to the celebrity who was now teaching their class. It was a difficult journey to say the least. It had been months since Altam had last touched solid ground and his legs threatened to buckle at any moment.

"Hi there sir, I'm Altam Haytham! Nice to meet you!" He bowed respectfully and pushed himself off the ground, turning it into a frontflip and zipping over to his bag of treasure.

"Where is it...." He mumbled, digging through his sack. "Ahh! Here it is!" A small wooden idol emerged from the bag, completely covered in markings and carved into the shape if a giant toothed beast. With a small gesture the idol floated beside Cuddy.

"I told you I'd bring you something didn't I?" Altam smiled and looked around the room. He had met almost everyone there some time in his life. Almost. With a look of intense curiosity he floated over to the girl with two shades of hair. There seemed to be no joy in her eyes and that was something that Altam could not stand for. A small bronze box the size of a baseball drifted slowly out of the treasure bag and onto the desk in front of her.

"When I get sad or lonely, I play myself a song. Maybe it can help you too." He smiled brightly at the strange girl and flew back to his seat, hovering upside down over his desk. "This is going to be a great year, I just know it!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Duran Ledford Character Portrait: Altam Haytham Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann Character Portrait: Allura Carrington
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#, as written by Kapento
Cuddy Vann



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"Cuddy Vann, right?"

Losing interest in that which he was tinkering with moments before, the blonde boy tipped his head up a little in-response to the voice that beckoned his name. Having not really paid much attention to those who came in after him, it took a minute or so for the boy to snap into action, before giving a confirming nod. He was even a little in awe over the boy who greeted him as he studied his features.

"Oh aye, yeah! I'm Cuddy Vann." He said with his usual upbeat tone. For a moment or so, the other student seemed distracted by something, which gave Cuddy a good chance to think back and recall the boys name. Perhaps not deliberately, but he knew he'd have ought to have vaguely heard it without realizing. Now what was it? It began with a A? B? Oh, a D! Du... Du... Dur...

"Oh, sorry about that, a little distraction there." Tilting his head slightly and running a hand through his lightly toned hair, Cuddy still pondered briefly over the boy's name. The very thing was on the tip of his tongue! Just then, however, he curiously watched as his pen began doodling on it's own. Well that's pretty cool! He grinned amusingly, watching as the boy put forward his hand. "Put her there."

"Nice tah' meet you." Taking hold of the boys hand he shook it eagerly, feeling quite relived that the student was rather nice despite his appearance. It took a minute or so before Cuddy realized he was still handing on to the guy's hand, to which he then released it, and chuckled funnily. "Ah! Your name's Duran, right? Knew I'd remember it. Say, your a pretty cool looking guy!"

"Today we’ll be doing an exercise..." As their teacher spoke, Cuddy allowed his attention to drift over towards the older man. It seemed everyone must've arrived now, since everything was in motion."I’ve sorted you all by what I believe to be the best combinations for a team. If you feel you’ll have troubles with your new teammates, you can always talk privately with me, let’s begin."

"Well look at that, we got out teams! Seems we're destined to not be together, but it was really nice meeting you, Duran." He said to the boy, as his stare focused on the student once again. "I guess I'll be seeing you around bro', if that's cool? Anyways I better find my team!"

The search for his teammates didn't take long, not at all. Before he knew it one had already found him. "Ah...I-I'm Maddox, nice to meet you..."

Immediately Cuddy stood up and warmly greeted the boy as he shook his hand. At first, Maddox seemed quite nervous, or something along those lines. Either way that wouldn't bother Cuddy. "So your Maddox, huh? I think I've seen you around. I'm Cuddy so you know." Releasing the boy's grip Cuddy offered a friendly smile in hopes of making less awkwardness. "Looks like we're team-buds. Haha, this is awesome!"

Realizing they still had a teammate to find, Cuddy quickly glanced around the room before his eyes landed on a curious figure just nearby to him. That could be her I guess. He turned to Maddox. "I'm thinkin' that could be our third member? Come on!" He tugged on a piece of the boy's clothing, almost ready to drag Maddox with him as the excitement grew within himself. However, he soon settled on motioning for the boy to follow as he turned to head over to the girl. Figuring it would make a better impression for now.

As he was about to walk over a familiar face suddenly appeared into the room. He knew who it was without a doubt, more so by the sudden embrace that he knew all-too well. It was his good friend and best-est buddy, Altam. "Cuddy! I missed you so much! I have sooooo much to tell you about what I found!" The boy said excitedly. As much as he would've loved to have chatted more, there were things that need his attention, pronto. "Chill dude, we can catch up later! I so wanna hear about what you found, but later. Alrighty?" The other boy soon left as he wandered over to a girl nearby, which gave Cuddy a moment to refocus on his team.

The class was in full motion and Cuddy knew his priority right now was getting his team together. With that, he put the small idol given by his friend into his bag before managing to make his way over to the girl in question, with Maddox in tow, and leaned down curiously at her. He didn't want to be rude, but he didn't know if she was the right person either. "Hey, are you Allura? We're your teammates if so. My names Cuddy, and this guy here is Maddox." He offered out his hand to her, smiling as he did, awaiting a response.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Duran Ledford Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann
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#, as written by Kestrel
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β€œAren't you excitable...” Duran grinned a little awkwardly, nodding towards the handshake that went on a little too long. He wasn't too hung up about it, however, as Duran gladly received the compliment when he got his hand back. β€œGlad you noticed,” Duran boasted with a tone of voice that was just a little too prideful to play it off as a joke. Duran leaned back and hung his arm over the back of his chair. He liked his new classmate already. β€œYou're alright, Cuddy.”

It was barely a minute later the professor handed out team compositions. β€œThis man sure doesn't waste time.” Duran approved, as he got up from his chair to part ways with Cuddy. β€œGood talk all the same. Be seeing you.” He echoed his classmate's sentiments, before taking a look at the paper and team compositions himself. Now who am I partnered up with... Duran thought to himself, as his eyes scanned the paper for his name, which he found next to those of Willow and Robin.

Willow was an old friend of Duran's, a medic and a good one at that... A great partner indeed, Duran smirked to himself. It meant he could use his powers more liberally. Robin was a young man Duran was less familiar with, but he would be soon enough. In a single fluid motion, he stood up from his chair and hopped past a few desks. It seemed team mates had already found each other.

β€œDon't suppose you're as flustered to meet me.” Duran announced his presence by putting a hand on Robin's shoulder and leaning on him. It wouldn't phase Duran in the slightest if that only made his fellow slayer more nervous, but for some reason he always felt a protective of Willow. His old friend was growing up to be a beautiful woman and Robin's eye was hardly the first Willow had caught. Duran's self-asserted role as watchdog wasn't sure how to go about dealing with that.

β€œYou're captain Grey's kid, aren't you? I hear your father is the only decent man that floating city of cowards got to offer.” Duran commented, not hiding his disdain as he mentions Anima. Still, his expression brightened a little as he telepathically pulled back Robin's desk to sit to do it the honour of being his makeshift seat. Duran put himself between Robin and Willow, hardly unintentional, before he continues, β€œI hope you're taking after him, but I can't see how you'd not. You're a student here, after all.”

Duran took a moment to let his rather dominant speech sink in. The slayer folded his legs and rested his chin on his hand, then suddenly realised he had been so smitten by the sound of his own voice, he hadn't even said hello to his old friend yet... β€œMorning, Willow.” He nodded friendly, β€œLooks like Robin over here is right. The three of us are a team now. Lucky us. What are the chances of that?”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Duran Ledford Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Altam Haytham
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#, as written by Feyblue
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The supersoldier gave a silent groan, turning her eyes to the window as her momentary focus on the annoyingly loud hammer girl caused countless other voices to come flooding into her mind.

"Maybe you should try to be less of a total bitch!" Snapped one angry voice.

"Did I do something wrong? Did I offend her somehow? But all I did was talk... Was she actually reading my mind? If so, for what reason?" Wondered another, sounding hurt.

"If she's not cut out for the academy, then..." Lorelei gritted her teeth, shutting her eyes as she desperately tried to drive out the countless disgusted voices that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Of course, actually paying attention to somebody else had been a mistake. She knew that, and yet she'd been so annoyed by that girl's perky attitude - She had to have been mocking her. Why else would she start a conversation with someone like Lorelei? - that she'd been unable to keep her calm and had snapped at her. And look where it had gotten her. Now she'd made another scene and blown her one and only second chance at starting over here. Why did it always have to be this way? It would be so much easier if people would just mind their own business and leave her alone. They hated her - that she knew - so why didn't they just ignore her and go about their own lives?! It didn't make any sense to interact with someone you despised, so why did people still choose to even come close to her? She was a freak, she knew that, everybody knew that! If they didn't want to have their thoughts read, then they should have just stayed away from her! Yet, even knowing about what she was, people still kept on trying to get reactions out of her... be they positive or negative.

With a dull clank, a small bronze box about the size of her palm landed on the desk in front of her. Her eyes snapped open and upwards to see where it had come from, only to find a young boy - she would have said he looked like he was only 11 years old or so, but his physique told a different story. Was he a midget or something? - floating above her, riding on what looked to be a disproportionately large turban. The image he presented was so comical, even she, the legendary ice queen, probably wouldn't have been able to stifle a laugh if she wasn't so confused by who he was, what exactly he had just given her, and what he thought he was doing.

"When I get sad or lonely, I play myself a song. Maybe it can help you too," Said the childish young man, grinning as though this non sequitur statement explained everything. With a knowing smile, he turned and flew away, leaving her opening and closing her mouth a few times, still not really sure what exactly had even happened. Pocketing the strange box in one of many small slits in the lining of her tabard, she then realized that the teacher had already begun speaking. She mentally slapped herself. If she didn't pay more attention to class and less to her classmates, she'd ruin herself - well, even more than she already had, anyway.

Unfortunately, things weren't exactly looking good for her regardless. Just her luck, she was being assigned to team up with some other students who would probably make it their lives' goals to drive her insane, assuming they weren't incompetent idiots. And, even worse, she couldn't even tell who she was going to be partnered with, since she didn't know even one of her classmates by name, and, even if she did, the announcement was in writing, and she couldn't read. She glared angrily at the list for a few seconds as though her sheer determination to understand it would mystically grant her the ability to both comprehend the names of those written on the sheet and pick them out from the rest of the class, but at last she gave up, sighing as she turned her gaze back out the window, trying to see the blue sky beyond the giant, hulking dragon made of trash in the courtyard. Considering most people in the school knew her simply as NHP-S17 - the numbers in which, which she could at least recognize, were pointedly absent from the sheet - the other members of her team probably wouldn't be able to recognize her, either. She supposed the only thing to do would be to wait until everybody had found their partners and then look for one group that was missing a person. Resigning herself to her need to utilize her powers, she kept her mind trained on the crowd around her, focusing intently on the word "Lorelei" and searching for any thoughts that might involve her in some way. She'd find her team one way or another. She just doubted she'd enjoy it.