Gregory was already situated in his dorm room. He didn't say much during his way to here. A couple greetings to people he knew were the few things he'd said. He didn't have anything he could put around to make the place more comfortable; It was enough just to have a place to relax. He sat on his bed and opened his planner. He could've probably used the PDA, but he used to writing things down as a physical copy. It was brand new so it was mostly empty, aside from old contacts he wrote again.

This year his parents both dropped and saw him off. His grandmother dropped him off the first year, and with all the asking of just about everything about himself, he was thankful that they did. He knew it wasn't just that though, they were worried about him. After reassuring them with a rare smile of his, they allowed him to go back.

He had checked the various clubs that were advertising themselves in Student Central before arriving here. He was going to join the baseball team definitely, but one or two extra activities besides the Darren Archive couldn't hurt. Most of his choices were self-defense based clubs like martial arts. Jotting down a few of them, he went out of the room and towards the Counselor's room.

Johnathan took another bite of his pizza to prevent him from jumping up. Turning around, he took a look at his roommate.

He nodded and said, "Sure, take a seat. By the way, my name is Johnathan Rickheight. But you can call me Johnny if you want. And, I'm your roommate." Johnathan had already consider Carter a friend already since he was his roommate.

"And in my care you shall most definitely be" replied Miss Rachel as she got up from her desk with a vial of what appeared to be water in hand which she casually put it into the front pocket of her suit jacket. "And please, Miss Rachel" she added with a smile. "It's been so long since I've walked through these halls" she said nostalgically "Unfortunately I wish my arrival was on much better terms, I'm sorry for the loss of your classmates." she leaned against one of the tables with her arms crossed as her eyes clouded with thought "James...er, Mr. Albright always spoke so highly of the group here. This loss was sorely felt by many, and I will do my best to determine what it was that attacked them. However, the school is no longer as safe as it once was, it's teeming with spirits, and not all of them are as friendly as Sir William. I'm counting on you and the other upperclassmen to serve as guides to the juniors, they will need to train and quickly hone their abilities." She stopped for a moment and blinked staring at the boy, they were all so young, what a life they had to live. Miss Rachel suddenly stood up smiling in an attempt to brighten the sombre atmosphere. "Ah, but let's not think of such things already, I shall discuss this further with the others in a meeting tomorrow afternoon. It's the beginning of another glorious school year! While it may be tough, we shall prevail!" She said while ushering Adi out the door.

_________________________________________________________

Lukas entered the cafeteria, and before him lay a wide spread of food. As it was a special occasion, the opening of school for another year, there were various wines on display for the adults. It was fiercely guarded by a young man wearing an apron with his eyes nearly shut as he yawned. Truly, the young man was just an intern and was bored out of his skull and slightly dismayed at being put on wine duty, when he could've been learning interesting and useful stuff such as various cooking styles. This wasn't what he had signed up for, or at least, so he thought.

_________________________________________________________

Evelyn blinked vacantly and said nothing for a few minutes as she examined the girl who just burst into the room. If she had had a weapon on her, she would have drawn it, though her father told her that the club would supply all those needs, and thus left her weaponless. Quite frankly she felt fairly naked without anything to defend herself with besides her powers.

"You must be Evelyn! I'm Harper Radisson!" she blurted out with excitement."I've never had a roommate before!" Already Evelyn could tell that this girl was one of those gleeful bubbly types, it was going to be a long year.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Harper" spoke Evelyn cordially "As you seem to already be aware, yes, I am Evelyn, your roommate." She watched as the girl looked around their room, which seemed to fairly resemble a hotel room, sans the tv, and with doubles of every piece of furniture in the room. Evelyn's own side was already unpacked and neatly organized.

Logan made his way to the room he had been assigned, wondering if Gregory would be there already. No such luck, though a few of his belongings were present. Obviously, he had just missed him. The teenager quickly exchanged his pretentious attire for something more comfortable. He came back out sporting a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt, which was boldly emblazoned with the letters "Green Shirt". Straightforward. Logan liked that.

Without another thought, he headed back out into the school's extensive hallways, leaving his luggage bag open on the floor of the dorm room. He meandered aimlessly for awhile, pondering what his next step would be. He could go to the cafeteria, but it was too early for him to be hungry, though he supposed a good many new students would be there. He decided against it, though, in favor of taking a look at what clubs he would be joining this year. The music club was a given. Feeling experimental, he decided he might try his hand at the drama club.

Logan's thoughts turned to the Darren Archive Club. He had completely ignored it the first year, having no idea what the stipulations of such an oddly named group would be. In fact, they had tried to recruit them, but he had turned them down for that very reason. It had garnered his attention, though, when many of the people he knew had joined. He decided he might like to give it a shot. With that, he turned about and set a course for the counselor's office.

Ah, so much food... hmm, what to take? Maybe... yes, some seasoned chicken... salad... rice... yes, this would do nicely. And - wait, what was that over there? It seemed to be... wine. Of course, with all these adults here there would be some amount of alcohol. Drinking it in the middle of a crowded area would be disastrous, of course, but maybe he could sneak some to his dorm? But it was guarded. Well, that'd never stopped him before. Let's see... okay, this would be difficult in a crowded area, but maybe...? Hmm, how could he do that with his hands full? But it'd look weird to see him looking for a table without anything to eat. To do this without spilling his food or breaking a bottle would be very, very hard. He could hold his tray with one arm, but he needed to knock over two bottles, and he couldn't catch both with one hand. He wasn't exactly Spider-Man, here. Maybe his plan was too complex? Would it be possible to just grab one from under the fool's nose? Hmm... Well, he supposed he should walk over there, first, anyway. Just to get a better look at the situation. So he'd walk over there, filling his cup with grape soda, and appear to be looking for something.

((Woops. Guess I let this one run a little long. Consider it two posts in one, I guess.))

A snobby building full of snobby people. That was August’s first impression of the school, and he couldn’t have asked for better. It was the perfect place to shake things up a little bit. Goodness knows these people could use some excitement in their dull, aristocratic lives. Perfect indeed. This would be fun.

Though he had tried to leave his guardians at the door, Elnora Brinstoke would have none of it. The tenacity that had made her such a fearsome courtroom adversary was still very much a part of her, and she was not going to let her young delinquent off the hook quite that easily. So it was that she marched the boy up the grand paved entrance and into the front hall, where introductions were taking place. The place was a sight to behold. In the next room, beautiful artwork adorned every wall, a quartet of talented youths bowed their instruments in rapturous melody and various students and faculty mingled about, introducing or reuniting with each other after the summer holidays.

The two found themselves amongst a group of other first year students and their parents, just then departing for a tour of the school. They were showed the principle areas and classrooms, then moved on to the dorms where a kindly woman greeted them. She handed each student a welcome package with various useful accessories while assuring all of the parents that their children would be well looked after. August decided immediately that the backpack in which the articles came was “lame” and transferred them into his own bag. Elnora stayed behind to speak with the dorm mother, who assured her that she would keep an “extra-sharp eye” out for the worried woman’s trouble-making charge.

That was, of course, the last Elnora saw of August, who had profited from the brief distraction in order to slip away. She cursed herself all the way back to the car for having let him out of sight. A bored Nigel Brinstoke awaited her, half sleeping and half reading the local newspaper.
“How was it?”, he yawned as his wife entered the vehicle.
“He’s going to get in a lot of trouble,” came the depressed reply. “But maybe it will teach him a lesson.”
Nigel chuckled. “You know what they say about experience,” he said as he started the car. “It’s probably for the best.”

Meanwhile, August had made his way to what was to be his room for the next nine months. He smirked as he eyed his new accommodations. “Not bad, not bad,” he murmured to himself. He was to share the place with someone named Lukas Barkellner, though it looked like the boy had not yet arrived. This meant that August had pick of the beds, a luxury which he was happy to take advantage of. Tossing his suitcase and backpack on the mattress nearest the window, he traded his blazer for a more comfortable leather jacket and headed back out, but not before having short-sheeted the other bed.

He made his way back to the Student Central, glancing here and there at the various club tables. Originally he had planned to skip the whole “club” thing altogether, but seeing as it was mandatory, he thought it best to comply. Not that he particularly cared that it was mandatory, but Andreas had taught him that rebellion was best done quietly, especially in the beginning. Only a few tables piqued his interest. The cooking class was an obvious choice, though August had no illusions about learning anything groundbreaking there. Another table offered a fencing* course. It looked interesting enough, so he jotted his name down there as well.

His obligations complete and having naught much else to do, August headed to the cafeteria. The dishes on offer were all rather standard. Nothing lept out as particularly enticing, so he grabbed a slice of pizza from the counter. Pizza, it was said amongst the crew of Le Rossignol Mort, was one of the true measures of a chef. If he put love and effort into what could easily be considered a “layman’s dish”, at least in America, then the same could be expected of his other plates. If not, then everything else that bore his touch would be decidedly sub-par.

As he sauntered over in the direction of the terrace, he noticed a youth, around his own age, eyeing the wine table. Unless he was mistaken, the boy had in mind to procure himself some of that delicious liquid, but was having trouble figuring out how to get past the lazy yet still conscious guard. Eager for some fun, August left his plate on a nearby table and rushed to meet the bored young man, grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously.
“Theodor Hale! I can’t believe it’s you! Theodore Hale!”, he shouted with exuberance. “You’re the youngest chef ever to master the three-pronged version of the Rizzo-Bianchi roasting technique! I’ve read your book, it’s simply marvelous. I must have you autograph my copy. You wouldn’t mind, would you? It would mean the world to me.” He swung his arm around the confused young man’s shoulders, turning him away from the wine table. As he did so, he caught the eye of his peer and winked, gesturing with his head towards the newly guardless bottles.

Continuing his little drama, August babbled on, attempting to move the youth further away; “While I have you, I would love to get your opinion on those little, hm, I can never remember what they’re called. The little round hors d'oeuvres at the end of the counter. I find them delightful, but there seems to be something missing. Doubtless you would know what it is...”



*((If fencing is not the sort of thing that would be offered at this school, just let me know and I'll change it.))

(Sorry for the weeks-long delay, I'm pretty sure it was entirely my fault. Won't happen again unless I'm in a coma.)


Alice dashed out of her dormitory as if her life depended on it. Following behind her was what would be the strangest thing anyone had ever seen, if ghosts and demons weren't real; a tiny, child-like creature with blue wings that completely dwarfed her body.
"Wait!" The monster shouted, waving around a red ribbon in her hand. "You forgot your totem! ...And me!"
"I didn't forget the totem by any means, Phora," she replied, "It was left behind on purpose. The last thing I need is for you to cause a bunch of trouble. Again."
Alice sighed angrily and kept heading towards the counselor's office. She was already very, very late because of Phora's immaturity. After waking up at the crack of dawn to get to the Academy early, the girl had spent all morning helping the staff and other seniors prepare for the arrival of the new students. Minutes before the gates were scheduled to open, she was putting the finishing touches on a large welcoming banner, when her "loyal partner" decided it would be funny to guide a stray gust of wind at just the right angle as to blow the banner straight in Alice's face. The poor woman had to change her clothes and spend ages scrubbing paint off her skin, while knowing in the back of her mind that the counselor was probably going to be livid with her for ruining the project.

She was so busy letting her anger boil that she nearly missed the counselor's office.
"You're lucky I don't have time to lock the totem in my nightstand," she said, "so just hurry up and tie that ribbon into my hair, and if you cause any more issues today I'm going to start carrying around a flyswatter."
Phora simply giggled and dismissed her threats, then started working the totem into her blond locks. Even though she was supposed to be just a weapon or a tool, she somehow always managed to make Alice's hair look beautiful. The girl was actually sort of jealous of her talent.
"... Hey, Alice." She said.
"What?!"
"You forgot to wash the paint off the back of your neck."

Alice snapped so hard you could practically hear it. She reached behind her and grabbed Phora by her hair, and whipped her body around to face the pixie. "I didn't forget," she said through gritted teeth, with enough venom in her voice to make a grown man cry. "The truth is this is just such an important day for me that I didn't have time to clean up after the mess you made!" Her voice grew louder and louder as she spoke, and while colorful arguments like these were a pretty common occurrence for the two of them, it was extremely rare for her to just lose her composure in the hallway like this.
"Tell you what, Phora!" She barked. "You can forget that thing I said about the flyswatter. Because if you don't shut up and stay out of my way for the rest of today, I'm going to invest in a goddamn cattle prod instead!"

Phora looked horrified, and for a minute Alice thought she was actually going to apologize, but she suddenly smirked and pointed over her shoulder.
"Wow, you probably freaked THAT guy out!"
She looked where her familiar was pointing, and saw a red-haired boy dressed in green staring in their direction, probably trying to get into the counselor's room. "Oh God, that guy isn't Omnivident is he? He can't even see Phora!" She thought. Her face turned red with humiliation.
Phora patted her on the back triumphantly, and then disappeared in a small puff of light and pixie dust.

Alice briskly walked towards the door to the office, but as she grabbed the handle she couldn't help turning to address her silent observer.
"S-s-s-shut up!" Was all she managed to choke out, being on the verge of tears. The girl didn't even notice Adi being pushed out the door by the counselor as she slipped inside.





ooc: is it normal to hate everything you write

((Pretty sure Adi hasn't officially left the office yet, but honestly I think we should just go with it. This has been dormant for too long.))

By the time Logan reached the counselor's office, there was already a line at the door. Wait, just one person. The other two were spirits or something. He recognized the girl, having seen her on occasion the previous year, but didn't know her name. Now that just wouldn't do. He went over to talk to her but stopped short when he saw that she was preoccupied, engaged in conversation with what appeared to be a large butterfly. Strange. He didn't realize that the practitioners of Artes Animalium were able to communicate verbally with their familiars.
The girl was yelling at the butterfly now. This was quite unprecedented, as the Artes Animalium had very strong bonds with their spirit familiars. Then again, Logan hadn't even known that they could communicate. He was no expert on the various Artes and their abilities, so it probably wouldn't be wise to jump to conclusions. Without prompt or warning, the butterfly vanished, leaving the girl to turn on him.
"S-s-s-shut up!" She stuttered, clearly flustered. What he had said or done to provoke such a reaction was beyond him. Girls were weird like that sometimes. Rather than try to form a coherent response, he simply raised his hands and grinned nervously.
"Guess ah'll talk tae ye later!" He called after her as she stormed into the counselor's office. He was left alone with an unfamiliar spirit.
As he waited for the counselor to finish with the jumpy lass, Logan quickly became impatient and restless. He glanced over at the ghostly figure standing by the door.
First impressions suggested that he was a knight. He was all done up in medieval armor, complete with lance and shield. Why, this man appeared to have been summoned by an Artes Antiquarum like himself! He didn't see anyone nearby who could have called him here, but that was beside the point. The knight was clearly decked out for battle, though there were no threats that merited such precautions as far as Logan could tell. What a tragic waste of his capabilities.
"A pleasure tae make yer acquaintance, sir." Logan greeted the spirit with a smirk. Before the knight had a chance to respond, the teenager conjured the equipment of his ancestor, Allan McWilliam. His body was instantaneously enveloped by a suit of mail. A sheathed dirk appeared at his side, and a targe shield on his arm.
"'Tis always an honor tae meet a fellow warrior. Th' name's Logan." He grinned, extending his free hand toward the spirit.

Adi was ushered out of the room promptly as another female student rushed in, filling his place. Seemingly in a hurry, he caught sight of her blue eyes and surmised it must have been 3rd year, no, 4th year Pearson. He didn't see nor hear the commotion she was causing as he left and was almost halfway out of the corridor before he noticed a boy in full battle regalia apparently trying to chat with Sir William. Though it was probably not against school regulations, it was clear he was forgetting that the Artes were not to be used so frivolously.

Upon closer inspection Adi recognised him as 1st, no, 2nd year Douglas, the Scot penchant for green. Walking silently, barely striking the ground, he walked up behind the boy before uttering a sound.

"Ahem."

"Of course, 'tis an honor to meet you as well Master Logan!" Sir William said in his trademark rustic tone as he reached to shake hands with the student. "I hope your first day here at the academy was pleasent."
The ghosts helmet tilted forward, allowing him to get a better look at the teenagers armor. "Some mighty fine warriors, those Scots. Some mighty heavy drinkers, too. With what they brew, hard to blame them!" With that, he gave a hearty chuckle, but then he leaned in a bit and lowered his voice. "But just between you and me, you may want to be more careful where you choose to conjure up your great-great-grandad's armaments. Not everyone who attends this school is aware of its primary purpose!"

As if on cue, Adi approached from seemingly nowhere.

"Ahem."

Sir William made a silent "see-what-I-mean" gesture and returned to his usual post.

"Of course, 'tis an honor to meet you as well Master Logan!" The knight greeted him. "I hope your first day here at the academy was pleasent."
"Ah appreciate th' sentiment, guid sire, but it isnae mah first time 'ere." Logan replied. "Ye dinnae recognize me because this is mah first time applyin' for the Darren Archive Club, but ah am a second year student." He informed the spirit. It was a reasonable mistake to make.
The spirit took a good look at the student's gear, as if sizing him up. "Some mighty fine warriors, those Scots. Some mighty heavy drinkers, too. With what they brew, hard to blame them!" The knight chortled, and Logan couldn't help but follow suit. It was all too true, and his father was living proof.
"But just between you and me, you may want to be more careful where you choose to conjure up your great-great-grandad's armaments. Not everyone who attends this school is aware of its primary purpose!" He cautioned. Logan was about to scoff until he heard a voice behind him.
"Ahem."
Logan twisted his head around to see Adi standing behind him. He guiltily dispelled his weaponry as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Before turning to face him, he addressed the knight one last time.
"Ye and as should have a guid spar sometime." He whispered with a challenging glare, then wheeled around.
"Ah, Adi! Guid tae see ye again." He said, spreading his arms in a gesture of mock excitement. "Ye always were th' levelheaded one." Yes, levelheaded was a good, nice way to say stick-in-the-mud. On a good day, Adi was overbearing at best. In fact, he was probably here to write him a ticket for using his Arte so whimsically. A lot of people often referred to him as a****** because of his initials. They probably thought it was cute or clever or something, but Logan personally refrained from it. After all, Adi was probably a good guy at heart, and his intentions were arguably in the right place. Maybe.

"Likewise 2nd year Douglas," Adi replied, unresponsive to the mockery, "I must say I'm not green with envy seeing you unable to keep a lid on things. The coming year with you will be most interesting."

If he had any authority, he'd drag the junior in an hour long school wide marathon as punishment, or some other suitable physical activity. The junior probably could handle it, what with the Artes cladding him in heavy armour and weapons. Then again, he didn't know how it worked, which was a curious thing. Might as well ask.

"That said, I am still curious as to how your Arte works junior Douglas. Surely you must have some kind of training if you were greeting Sir William with it all equipped."

It would be interesting to experience a western martial art.

Dae mah ears deceive me, or did Adi really just crack a pun? Logan thought with s****. Maybe the uptight teenager was beginning to come out of his shell. Then again, he was still referring to him as "junior Douglas".
"Alas," he began melodramatically. "Th' school doesnae teach us how tae use our Artes as far as I know. Whit little skills ah have, ah hud tae develop on mah own. Otherwise, ah might huv somethin' more potent than a knife by now." He shrugged.
"As fur how it works, 'tis scarce different from any o' th' other summoning Artes. Th' summoned object is only effective against other spiritual objects or beings. Apart from th' summoner, they'll pass right through anythin' physical, altough ah imagine it may tickle a wee bit." The junior made a pinching gesture with his fingers to punctuate his point.
"Sae," He continued audaciously. "Whit about yer Arte?"

Adi sighed a little at the same parroted answer, but it was a leading question, his real intent being on evaluating martial prowess and not anything on the spiritual side. So he waited for the inevitable follow-up question from the junior.

"Sae," Douglas finally asked, "Whit about yer Arte?"

"A tiny knife can be deadly enough in the right hands and that is what my Arte is. It is your standard spiritual weapon for the most part but exchanges the the ability to exorcise with the ability to damage," he paused almost for dramatic effect but mostly for breath, "everything. But I suppose we can talk about this tomorrow since Doctor Dawn wishes for the Archive Club to convene for a meeting. That and I must be getting home, I like to make time for some exercise before dinner. See you tomorrow, junior Douglas, and do be prompt."

With another smart about face, he headed for the exit, intent on running home since he hadn't see Li as he walked the halls.