Archive World of Darkness: The Academy - Chapter 4: SSDD

[Dawn OOC]

Wednesday, August 20

Dorm Mother’s room, Lancaster

Sylvia woke up, sitting up with a start, her heart pounding. Something was wrong, but the history teacher couldn’t say what. Standing, she pulled on her robe and hurried through her side of Lancaster, checking for obvious signs of disturbance. There were none; the doors were locked, and the girls who passed her in the hallways seemed fine.

But the sensation wouldn’t go away. Sylvia stood in the hallway and growled to herself. She couldn’t see the danger, but she could feel it and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

103 Lancaster

Frida woke up in her bed. This was not a normal occurrence for the strange young woman. She had a comfortable reading chair that occupied the place where her roommate’s bed would have gone, and usually fell asleep there reading a book on her favorite artists. Perhaps being sick for the last two days had encouraged her to use her bed. Standing, she went to the window and stared out, admiring the way the rising sun painted the grounds outside her window with fire.

As she watched and admired, her brow furrowed. There was something she was forgetting, something important. She struggled in vain to recall it. Perhaps it would come back to her when she was painting. The creative process often invoked recollections of lost memories. It would come back if it were important.

105 Lancaster

Deacon woke up feeling good. Considering how sick he’d been the last two days, it felt good to just not feel bad. Reaching over, he lazily dragged his laptop off his desk and onto his bed. Hiding his yawn behind his hand, he checked a few websites. A glance at the clock told him he’d already missed breakfast and his first class of the day. He might be able to get excused from another day’s worth of classes due to ‘sickness’, but that’d mean going to the infirmary for an excuse.

Idly, he wondered if that effort were worth it or if he should just head to class. A moment later, something else occurred to him and some of his good mood faded. He was forgetting something. He wasn’t sure what, but he was sure it was important. Man, this was gonna bug him for the rest of the day if he didn’t figure it out!

106 Lancaster

Ravi stretched luxuriously, like a giant cat. His sheets were wrapped around his body in a most pleasant way. The silk cloth had been purchased for its sensual texture and eye-catching color, and Ravi congratulated himself again on the purchase. The only thing his bed lacked was companionship, and the India expatriate intended to fix that soon. A little smile curled his lips as he considered the possibilities of a new school.

He wasn’t going to meet anyone lying about in bed, though wouldn’t that be delightful if he could? Grinning, he hopped to his feet and grabbed toiletries for the shower. A sudden hazy image of a naked red-head intruded into his thoughts, and Ravi blushed. Where had that come from?

107 Lancaster

Zack wasn’t feeling too good when he opened his eyes. Something was wrong; there was a sense of urgency in him this morning, but no clear way to act. He sat up and looked around the room, finding nothing out of place. But the sense of unease refused to go away as he rose and prepared for his day.

208 Lancaster

Renata woke from a nightmare. For a moment, she lay there trembling and sweatine, the terror of her dream refusing to go away. There had been fire and blood, but that hadn’t been the bad part. The bad part had been a dirt-covered skeleton, pointing to one of the buildings here on campus. It had been misshapen and utterly not human.

Across the room, Blaize murmured sleepily and turned over, one perfect, porcelain-white arm slipping from under the covers. Of course little Miss Perfect wasn’t having a bad dream. Renata bet she was having a dream where a dozen Sean Cassidy’s fed her grapes while violating her with perfect, romance-novel decorum. She’d even been pretty when sick, making Renata stare at her sickening beauty while Renata herself had been confined to bed.

Something nagged at her, something about crows, but it wouldn’t come to her. Grumbling, she rose and got ready for class.

107 Mars

Everett’s alarm went off, and the teen grumbled and cast about for the annoyance with his eyes closed. Wisely, he’d placed it across the room, so he was wide awake and out of bed before he’d gotten it turned off. He yawned widely, then decided he was up and grabbed a uniform to wear. He turned to leave and go to the bathroom, only to stop, staring at the door.

The oddest feeling had just come over him when his eyes had fallen on the door. He felt like he was supposed to watch it, guard it even. Frowning, he tried to shake off the feeling, but it wouldn’t go away.

109 Mars

Ryan woke up slowly, feeling terrible. He had been sick the last two days, so that wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the sensation that he’d been beaten while he was in his sickbed. His legs and arms were sore; his back felt like someone had jumped on it a few times. When he staggered to his mirror and pulled up his shirt, he saw some bruising. Had he taken a fall he didn’t remember?

There was a half-memory of a wall, and some bats, but there was nothing concrete there. Groaning, he reached for some painkillers, sure that’d he need them just to get to the clinic to get an excuse from classes.

204 Mars

Micah woke up slowly. Someone had forgotten to set the alarm; when Micah woke up enough to realize he hadn’t heard it, he gasped and sat up in bed. At seeing the time, he cursed and dove for clothes. “Sean! Sean, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” His chest hurt a little as he moved, but he didn’t see a cut or anything, so he ignored it for now.

With a gasp, Sean sat up and looked around, then joined Micah in cursing. Clothing and books flew around as the boys raced to get ready and get out the door. Sean in particular thought it might be a bad idea to be late for class the day after getting a detention. The last thing he did was grab his cell phone; Dad was supposed to be here… wasn’t he?

Confused, but without time to consider what was going on, Sean and Micah ran for class.

Grounds Keeper’s cottage

Jason woke up, slumped at his kitchen table. Groaning and stiff, he glanced at the clock and saw it was morning. Sighing, he stood and considered what he wanted for breakfast. A half-formed memory of a book haunted him, but a glance around his kitchen confirmed that there was no book here. Moving through the house, he couldn’t find anything like that, and the more he thought about it, the less concrete it seemed. Feeling a bit off, he sighed and went to get ready for the day.

Click to reveal..

Here’s the start of the Cat in a Bag plot. Feel free to play around with the loss of your memories – creepy feelings of half-forgotten things, particularly fights or bad experiences you all have had. This time, I’ll take the revelation more slowly, we’ll see if people have more fun.

Just post your continuation to your days, as your character would; you only remember being sick since the social on Sunday. You don’t remember what happened in relation to the Caramine, the Lhesk or the Door. Feel free to ask me questions if needed.

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

Crapfuck! Sean thought as he dashed out of Mars House and across the Quad, side by side with Micah. Hope Ms. Dorn doesn't chew me out. That's all I need. First Dad doesn't show up - doesn't even call. Then Prof Madison gives me detention for one little comment - it wasn't my fault everyone laughed. Now this, forgot the alarm and I still feel like shit from the fever or whatever. Fuck!

He slowed down at he passed the metal statue in the center of the quad, frowning at a rusty, reddish-brown discoloration on the ground, idly wondering how it got there. It almost looked like dried blood. Shaking the thought away, Sean continued on to the General Learning Building for History class with Ms. Dorn.

His frown turned into a dazzling grin as he passed a tall, shapely girl with black hair. Sorta looks like my sisters. An odd tingling danced across his skin as he thought about his sisters, shuddering, vaguely recalling a call from his bitch of a mother. He didn't remember exactly what she had said, but the gist of it must have been how he was a complete disappointment.

His fist banged on the door to the GL Building, throwing it open roughly, almost hitting a small freshman. Sean gave him a rueful grin in apology then strode swiftly for his classroom. He tried to sneak in without disrupting the class, hoping the teach wouldn't call him out.

[Ryan Jackson]

Ryan popped 3 aspirin and gulped them down with some stale water. He felt like crap. He pulled his tee-shirt off entirely and it caught on something on his back. Using the mirror he could see long bandages over his back. "What the fuck?" He drew on a fresh shirt and pulled on a pair of jeans and his sneakers. "Fuck taking a shower," he mumbled as he grabbed his keys and headed out, making a bee line for the café first and then the nurses office.

[Ravi FitzCoventry]

The morning routine was a delight as always. Ravi liked to spend what even he was honest enough to admit was an inordinate amount of time grooming... though to be fair, most of that time was the long soak in the bath while he lay with his sleekly handsome head against the tub's rim, his fingertips patting idly on the water's surface as he luxuriated in the scents of his bath oil. Hibiscus and almond, his favorite for the last two years. Not too strong, but just enough to add a subtle note to his own scent. Half lidded green-gold eyes traced the patterns of ripples on the water,

Isn't it funny how time doesn't seem to exist in the bath? he mused whimsically. No past, no future, just the present. A long, languorous moment that stretches on and on... A distant bell disturbed his reverie. "Oh well. Time to greet the morning before it becomes the afternoon."

Rising from the bath he towelled off, then dried his long inky-black hair, studying his naked body in the full-length mirror. He pursed his lips: he could probably do with a little more muscle, but really there wasn't any other room for improvement there. It wouldn't do to be too bulky though: perhaps swimming or some outdoors type activity. He could conceive of nothing more tedious than lifting weights or using rowing machines for hours. Running was the closest he came to repetitive exercise.

He grinned at himself. Of course, there were other forms of exercise for the right man in the right place at the right time. Whistling, he winked at his reflection and moved to get on with his preparations. Hair now dry, he brushed it back into a neat ponytail held at the nape of his neck. The shave was next: for a young man of seventeen Ravi was already developing a fine five o'clock shadow. "A family trait" his grandmother had cackled like an old hen when she had presented him with his grandfather's straight razor on his fifteenth birthday. It was a brightly-polished, keenly honed blade with a jewel inlaid mother-of-pearl handle, and Ravi had listened intently as his father had shown him how to care for and use it properly. The men of the FitzCoventry family disdained safety razors and especially electrical trimmers. Grooming was a matter of pride, skill and care. It separated a gentleman from common men and beasts both, his father had said.

He lathered his face with the faintly-cologned soap and stropped the razor briskly on the strap. He had to admit there was a sensual elegance to the glide of the edge over his skin. Women thought so too: his lips quirked as he remembered one girl who had proved to have very steady hands even when her breathing had grown a little less than steady. That had been a thril for them both, a little spur of the moment spice to their encounter. Despite his carnal reverie, the young man's hands steadily performed their work in scraping away the night's growth.

Washing off, he used his usual scentless deodorant and started to get dressed. This, like every other step of Ravi's daily routine, was not a process that could be rushed. He pondered the row of shirts for a moment before settling on one that was a beautiful green silk similar in shade to his eyes, intricately embroidered in gold thread and styled in a fashion that was a synthesis of West and East. He pondered a tie, but decided against it. For some irrational reason, Ravi didn't feel like wearing anything around his neck at the moment. It felt... restrictive. So he left the shirt's top two buttons unfastened as well, just because it felt right to do so. Gold and emerald cufflinks styled in his family's crest would do for ornamentation. And, of course, the gold signet ring bearing his family's arms went onto his left pinky finger.

The shirt having been selected, the charcoal slacks and the polished supple leather shoes were easier by far to pick out. Ravi hummed a little as he dressed himself, pausing at the end to study himself critically in the mirror once more. A black blazer finished the ensemble, and Ravi FitzCoventry was ready to face the day. He headed out the door into the pre-lunch hush of the morning, still humming with his hands in his pockets.

A few moments later he came back, frowning as he scooped up his book bag.

Click to reveal..

Assume that Ravi is very late to the class. His preparations tend to take awhile. He'll be at least 45 mins later than anyone else who actually turns up.

* * * * * *

"Now where am I supposed to be...?" the exotically handsome young man mused out loud in the empty corridor of the General Learning building as he glanced at his schedule, then his Rolex. "Ahh. 11:23, so that's History with Ms Sylvia Dorn. Room number... Ahh, there it is."

Knocking briskly, Ravi opened the door and leaned in with a dazzling smile, looking around until he found the most likely candidate for 'Ms Sylvia Dorn'. "Hello." he began in a smooth, purring tone. "Ms Dorn, I presume?" Stepping into the room with enviable self-assurance and closing the door behind him, he strolled up to her desk, holding out his right hand as he did so. "I'm Ravi FitzCoventry. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam."

[Zack]

He got up and got cleaned, dressing almost by rote before heading down to the cafeteria. He remembered being sick, and damn little else. "I hate Mornings." He quickly finished up and grabbed his things for class as he left and locked his room.

He couldn't shake the feeling he'd forgotten something, and he walked almost in a daze it seemed, barely acknowledging others as he passed.

[Sylvia Dorn]

Like Ravi, Sylvia enjoyed long, hot showers. Unlike Ravi, she didn't enjoy the one she had today. While the water and steam did wonders for her lingering headache, they did nothing for the sense of unease and worry that had taken hold on her sometime during the night.

She wound up cutting the shower short. It wasn't that she was behind schedule - the nigh-infamous Ms. Dorn was never late - but an indefinable feeling drove her to hurry this morning. As a result, she was dressed and ready for class a good hour in advance.

The children are in danger.

Catching her halfway through locking her door, the words swung Sylvia around, scanning the halls desperately for the source - of words or danger, she wasn't sure. But all was as it should be; the girls' side of Lancaster was neat as a pin as always. But those words... were they from a dream? A nightmare?

Confusion wasn't a normal state for the House Mother. But she was certainly perplexed as she stalked the halls, looking for whatever it was that was out of place, that wasn't as it should be... that was somehow and indescribably wrong.

With a growl of frustration, Sylvia finally headed off to the General Learning Building with minutes to spare.

---

Attendance was, she noted, bordering on dreadful. Then again, she reminded herself, most of the school had been down with a 48-hour bug of some variety, and a fair number of the students present still showed traces: those that weren't lethargic were distracted.

Sylvia herself noted that holding to the lesson plan was almost a chore. For whatever reason, an examination of the Holy Roman Empire simply didn't seem... important. Even her response to the extremely late Ravi was muted, merely directing him to take a seat with only a hint of a scowl. Because she knew, on some unreasonable but no less undeniable level, that her wards were in danger.

[SalmonMax]

Renata took her shower quickly that morning, and took it cool enough that her skin was pinkish on getting out. It was better than a venti espresso for clearing away the eye-boogars from the night before. Not that she was hell bent on being bright and bushy for class. She just...just was tired of being tired.

Despite the cold shower, the dream kept creeping back. Not all of it, just the pointing skeleton. She caught herself looking around the campus on her way across the quad, as if she were really expecting to see that particular building there...perhaps topped with a violent, black roiling thunderhead, or a torus of flames issuing forth screams of the damned. Or a giant clown head on a spring, right? Why not?

Renata made it ahead of the bell and for her efforts was treated to a riveting lecture on the Willy Loman Empire or something. Okay, no, she knew Holy Roman stuff. With a freaky Catholic for a mom, she'd actually paid attention to the subject in the past, hoping for some fragile clue she might use to get a psychological handhold on her mom. Never came to much though, and she wasn't expecting any more this time.

She found herself staring out the window, looking for that damn building again.

[Frida Ricci]

Frida rose and dressed herself for the day, trying not to get too distracted by her concerns. She kept telling herself that anything important would show up in her work, and tried not to focus too much on the vague feeling of discontent. She dressed in a fairly typical Frida fashion, a simple gray sundress that buttoned down the front and hung almost to her knees, with an open black modern Victorian/artsy style jacket that fitted nicely down to her waist. She wore black lace leggings with the outfit, and her hair was down with a grey and black silk flower clipped near her ear. Several pieces of old-fashioned looking silver jewelry, dating perhaps to the early to mid nineteen-hundreds finished off the look - a couple necklaces, silver chandelier earrings, a couple elegant (and real-looking) period rings with delicate metalwork and large stones, and a black belt with a vintage art nouveau silver belt-buckle to finish it off. Her shoes were gray suede lace-up knee-high boots cut in a French-Victorian style, and the jewelry had the antiqued, dull gleam of jewelry that was polished occasionally and worn very frequently.

She was on time to class today, which was generally a safe bed but not always a guarantee - you never knew when she'd get lost in a painting or engrossed in a project. However, as was the norm in many of her lecture oriented classes, she had spent the majority of the time so far today sketching. Not that she was subtle about it or anything - she didn't usually bother trying what she was doing, charcoal being her preferred sketching method. So she lifted her hand to answer the occasional question, unconcerned with her black smudged fingertips or palms, or the streak of black across her forehead from where she frequently had to brush her hair back from her face as she drew.

It was hard to complain though, Frida made immaculate grades in history, along with any other subject that required or was improved by efficient memory retention. So she was usually allowed to go on with her eccentricities - after all, that was part of why students like her were valued at Dalton Academy.

When Ravi came into the classroom late, it was the smoothness of his voice and the correctness of his manners that caught her initial attention. It was so much closer to her own upbringing after all than that of many of the American students here (which Frida frequently seemed to forget that she was technically one of). As he spoke with the Professor and then took his seat gracefully, she studied him quietly with an intensity that was hard not to notice when focused on oneself. And when he glanced briefly over his shoulder to see what lovely young lady he'd caught the attention of, she didn't turn or blush or act embarrassed at having been caught staring at him as most young women did. Nor did she give him the sultry expression or fluttered eyelashes of a seductress-in-training. The corners of her lips lifted very slightly in a faint smile, and she continued to stare at him, her gaze as thoughtful, intense, and difficult to read as ever. Perhaps even a little unsettling, for once.

And even after that long, awkward moment had stretched out into two or three of them, still her gaze didn't break away.

[Ravi FitzCoventry]

The prickle on the back of his neck was indicator enough that someone had been staring at him, yet Ravi waited until the distracted Ms Dorn's attention was elsewhere, the class as a whole having settled back in after his disruption, before he looked back. He fully expected it to either be a shy female or an aggressive male stare that was getting his hackles up, but it turned out to be neither.

The girl was... odd. Smudged fingers and a streak of (was that charcoal) something across her forehead. She was undeniably attractive. Though she definitely needed to so something with her hair. Perhaps most disconcerting and at the same time arresting was the way she was looking at him. The frank, intense appraisal at first made him bristle inwardly, and he could shake the feeling that she was seeing inside him somehow. That didn't sit well with Ravi at all: did she really think she could lay his secret soul bare in a few moments? Piqued, he returned her stare with deceptively casual intensity of his own, the green-gold shimmer of his eyes inscrutable.

Whatever the strange girl saw in that first moment, she seemed to like. She smiled at him, a charming upward quirk of her lips, Ravi responded with a deliberately slow, flirtatious blink of his long lashes and faint playful smile of his own, utterly forgetting where he was in his enjoyment of this new iteration of an old, old game.

[Frida Ricci]

They gazed at each other like that for a long moment, eyes locked together, studying each other. After a moment, he noticed the way her gaze broke away from his, and for a moment he thought that was it, that she would turn away or go back to her notes. It was then that he realized though, as he saw her fingers flip the page of a slightly larger sketchbook, that she wasn't taking notes. Her gaze moved back up to his face, but he saw it shift slightly, a slight muscle flexing in her jaw as her fingertips began to brush briskly across the page, moving with her eyes across the strong line of his jaw and the graceful tilt of his nose. She glanced down only a few times to look at the page, but most of the time he could feel her eyes moving over his face and jaw and the line of his shoulder almost as if she were touching him.

There was, in a way, something almost obscene about it. Not that anyone in the class had likely noticed, save perhaps that he had turned back to look at her. She wasn't undressing him with her eyes in any particularly sensual manner, but there was something unsettling, and yet erotic, about knowing that she was seeing him. Not just the tilt of his eyes or the fullness of his mouth, but that unsettling feeling that she was seeing into him, right there, surrounded by all these people engrossed in discussions regarding the Roman Catholic Church. He knew, almost without a doubt, that no matter how good the picture might be once he got a look at it - And you will get a look at it!! - no matter the style, or the accuracy, that it would portray something about himself that he didn't normally share with just anyone.

[Atomicweasel]

It was still dark outside her dorm room window when Mari awoke from her fitful sleep. She felt tired and poorly rested. All around her was the strange sound of silence. At home in Queens there would have been sirens wailing, horns honking, tires squealing. The metal sounds of a city always stirring, a city that never slept. That noisy pulse-beat had been Mari's lullaby for the last fourteen years...

...but in Dalton there was silence. A thin whisper of high mountain wind that hissed and worried at the window pane, the slow deep breathing of her roommate, Rachel. Sounds that tickled at the edge of Mari's consciousness, too quiet to ignore.

She pulled back the heavily patched quilted blanket her grandmother had made her so many years ago and slipped out of bed, her eyes still gummy with sleep, her hair a thick mess of bedhead. The wooden floor was cold under her feet and then hard under her knees as Mari knelt by her bedside. She put her palms together, lowered her head and began to whisper.

"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen." Mari's voice never rose above a low murmur. She didn't want to wake Rachel...and besides, she suspected her roommate was Jewish. Holding her thumb, index, and middle-finger of her right hand together, Mari touched her head and stomach and right and left shoulders in turn before lightly touching her fingers to her lips and pressing a soft kiss on them.

She rose to her feet and eased her closet open, glancing back fretfully at Rachel when the hinges squeaked. Her roommate mumbled something and turned onto her side, curly black hair spilling out from under the blankets. Mari gulped and squeezed herself into the closet to retrieve a faded brown 'Borricua' hoodie, a gray and yellow striped knit cap, her running shorts and blue and pink Reeboks. She changed quietly, grabbed her cheap Casio watch off the nightstand and tiptoed out the door, easing it slowly shut behind her.

She raised her wrist as she left Lancaster, casting a glance down at her watch. 5:23 read the green digital display. Time enough for a good run before her classes. She hadn't felt up to doing anything the last two days, had felt feverish and sick. Nerves, Mari. You're just nervous, nena. Have some chicken soup and go to bed early. Yanaida had told her. But Mari couldn't remember the last time she had ever been sick. She limbered up on the stairs outside the dorm, stretching her shapely slender legs, reaching her arms up at the pre-dawn sky. The chilly morning breeze raised goosebumps on Mari's skin. She pulled her knit-cap tighter and began her run.

__________________

Height: 5'1", Weight: 102 lbs, Hair: Dark brown, Eyes: Hazel, Striking looks 4, Dexterity 4, Presence 4

[Ravi FitzCoventry]

He watched her intently, the corners of his almond-shaped eyes narrowing very slightly as he followed the movements of her charcoal and tried not to blush. This was utterly different to how most women looked at him, that was certain. He'd been drawn before, and ogled plenty of times, but this... This was almost enough to make him shy!

It was also intensely arousing, the way she was stripping him somehow and transferring his essence to the thick heavy paper. He could practically feel her fingertips brushing his image on the page as she smudged a shadow here, caressed a line there. Ravi's heart thumped a little harder as she looked up at him again, her dark eyes catching his gaze, which was smoldering nicely by this point. Maddeningly, the girl didn't seem to notice beyond blinking once, as if puzzled by something. Then she went back to capturing him in her net of paper and charcoal as Ravi watched her, expressionless but for the banked fires in the depths of his gleaming eyes.

[Frida Ricci]

By the time she had finished, Sylvia was wrapping up the lecture, and passing out a couple brief handouts for them to look over by next period. Frida glanced up as the Ms. Dorn started to wrap the class, tucking everything into a leather messenger bag save the sketchbook. Once Sylvia had dismissed them she stood up, picking up her sketchbook and walking over towards Ravi. She seemed utterly unintimidated by his smoldering good looks or the dangerous gaze in his eyes - indeed she seemed almost unaware of the tension she had caused in him, or at least of what it signified.

She held out a hand to him as she approached him, her mouth curving in a faint polite smile at the corners of her lips. When she spoke her voice had a fairly upper-class British accent to it, though with enough traces of east-coast American to tip him off that she'd spent at least part of her life in the States. But it was smooth and cool, seemingly unaffected. The role-reversal was frustrating in a way, it was normally Ravi who had this kind of effect on members of the opposite sex. And yet here he was, hot and flustered by a woman who seemed utterly unaffected by him as far as he could tell. She tilted her head a little as she spoke, regarding him with that same odd, penetrating gaze.

"I'm Frida. I hope you don't mind. You have such a classic profile, and yet.. different. Dangerous. Your eyes are quite striking.. perhaps you wouldn't mind if I did them in color sometime?"

[Ravi FitzCoventry]

He blinked those noteworthy eyes at her, taken aback by her combination of boldness and detachment. He felt a little deflated: she was just interested in drawing him?! Admittedly, her drawing him just now had been one of the more intense experiences of his young (but thoroughly hedonistic) life. Certainly the most fun he'd had with his clothes on, now that he thought about it. But still! There was something very odd going on here. Perhaps she was autistic.

"A pleasure to meet you, Frida. I am Ravi FitzCoventry." he said as he stood up with studied langour, offering her a well-manicured hand and a smile. Dangerous looks. Yes, that was about right. And she liked his eyes! Actually, he reminded himself with depressing clarity of recall, she wanted to draw his eyes, which wasn't quite the same thing in his estimation. Still, it wouldn't do to snub a girl for her artistic sensibilities. And at least she appreciated his beauty in her own way.

"I'm flattered you noticed my eyes. They're a family heirloom. But 'dangerous'? Hardly." he quipped with a charming grin. "I would ask the banally obvious question: 'are you an artist, then?' but that would be both tedious and unnecessary, don't you think? So I will content myself with 'what's your preferred medium?'"

[Frida Ricci]

For a moment, she looked like she was going to say something else, but a brief clearing of the throat from Sylvia indicated that she was ready to close up the classroom. So Frida glanced briefly at Ravi, then towards the doorway before turning back to him.

"Perhaps we could walk to the next class together? If you'd like to see the drawing, that is."

He nodded slightly, and held the door open for her as she stepped out into the hallway, following behind her and allowing Sylvia to close it up behind them.

[ Anyone who wants to have anything happen before this, feel free, just go on back - Frida and Ravi are continued here: Artistic Intrigue ]

[Deacon Knight]

Hands buried deep in the pockets of a fluffy pink bath robe, dirty white bunny slippers looking up at the world around them, big red hearts on his boxers and a t-shirt that declared him as 'F.B.I.' or 'Female Body Inspector' one would think Deek was off to a typical morning as he wandered the halls with his hair disheveled and an ongoing confused expression.

Something wasn't right, and if it bugged anyone it probably bothered him the most since his memory, despite never using it to its full potential, was nearly flawless. Clearly in his mind was something important involving Lucia but after a few moments of clarity he discarded it as a wet dream, hell, it wouldn't be the first time he or any other guys at Lancaster dreamed about the "ol' grunt n' thrust" with lil' Miss Perfect and topped it off with a game of man-glue ski ball up her spine.

Lucia? Why would she be important? He hadn't talked with her in almost a year, at least not about anything any sane person would consider 'important'.

He wandered through the halls, the courtyard and anywhere else his mind could wrap around a clue but nothing came to him. He nodded and gave his typical witty greetings to those he passed, most hardly off put by his appearance; for Deek this was just the same shit just a different day.

[Rorx]

Jason woke up feeling rough, and was no better to find himself slumped over the kitchen table at 6am according to the clock on the wall. Stetching as he sat up then rubbed his face with both hands he tried to remember what the hell he had been doing there. He vaquely remembered reading a book, an old leather notebook, which solved that mystery, only to replace it with where the book was now. Glancing down and across the kitchen table he confirmed his initial impression that there wasn't a book there now.

Pushing up from the table he stood and stretched again before refilling the kettle for a fresh coffee, looking around the floor and surfaces to see if the book was elsewhere in the room. His stomach was a little sore when he stretched, but Jason put that down to the way he had fallen asleep. As the kettle heated he moved out into the lounge looking for the book, but he was finding it harder to remember what it had looked like and had no idea what it might have contained. His grandfather, it had something to do with his grandfather, was all that he was left with by the time the kettle boiled and he gave up his fruitless search to make his drink.

Drinking his coffee as he walked he went upstairs and changed into a set of sweats then headed down to the basement for his morning workout. An hour split between weights, kata, and the bag was his usual but today he was a little restricted by his stomach muscles objecting. They felt like they were bruised or something, but checking in the mirror showed no brusing. It did however show a large old scar that Jason couldn't remember having before. As he ran his fingers over the area an image of a large dog or wolf biting him in the dark, but it was gone before he could recall anything more about it. Frowning at the twin mysteries of the day he changed his usual sequence of weights and spent a little extra time pounding the bag before heading for a shower. In the shower and afterwards in the mirror he examined the old scar but couldn't remember anything about how he had recieved it. It seemed to be months old from the little that was left on the surface and how it had restricted his excercise, so it had happend while he was here at Dalton rather than back in the military. Not coming up with any answers Jason simply dressed and went back down to fix breakfast.

Back in the kitchen he had another glance around for the missing book while getting his morning juice and pouring out some cereal. By the time the toaster popped up with his two slices of wholemeal he was sitting back at the table he had woken up at almost two hours before munching his cereal and contemplating what jobs he had to do up at the school today.

By 08:30 Jason had cleared away the breakfast things, grabbed his toolbelt and was walking across the grounds towards the main group of buildings. Pausing in the quad at the stain on the path he briefly pondered why someone would have been throwing ketchup around, but put it down to some prank of Deek's. Adding cleaning it up to his mental to-do list for the day he carried on looking for his boss to find out if there was anything specific he had to do today.

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

Sean wasn't sure how Ms. Dorn made a drone sound like a growl, but she did, and it made it nearly impossible to ignore learning about the Holy Roman Empire. Which sucked, since all he wanted to do was close his eyes. He couldn't remember ever feeling this tired, and his thigh still sorta hurt, as if he had a charlie horse, though he had no clue how that happened.

Looking around, there were a few cute girls in class, some even more than cute, and Sean's easy grin and strong, broad-shouldered good looks, not concealed in the slightest by his rumpled uniform or dark, disheveled hair, drew more than enough pleasant attention from the fairer sex. He was a little disappointed that one of the girls he had already met wasn't there though, Lorelei of the magical voice or Frida of the creepily intent eyes. Though he only remembered talking to them at the Ice Cream Social, he had the distinct impression of having gone somewhere with them, they and someone else all riding in his Wrangler. Which was just odd, since near everyone had been sick like a dog the last two days and he was sure he hadn't left campus since arriving here.

After what felt like three days of Ms. Dorn lecturing, and was probably less than that, only relieved by a bit of quiet flirting with the cute, auburn haired girl sitting next to him, the class was finally over. With a promise to see her at dinner, he'd make sure to save her some of Mars House's famous brownies, he got up and left for his next class, Math.

As he was leaving, he passed Frida entering for Ms. Dorn's next class. "Hiya, Frida..." Sean greeted her, trailing off. That odd failing of sort-of-déja-vu assailed him again, with a strong feeling that he should have been thanking the odd artist girl for something, but the reason for it was unfathomable. Instead, he ran a hand through his messy hair, then gave her a nod and friendly grin. "Seeya 'round, eh?"

Math flew by in a blur, Mr. Burke's agitated energy at odds with Ms. Dorn's intent lethargy. Before Sean knew it, class was over and it was lunch time. He hustled over back to his dorm room to grab his gym uniform - Phys. ed. was next after lunch - and headed down to the Mars House mess.

He filled up his plate with fuel and turned around, looking for a place to sit. He'd only been here a few days, so hadn't found a 'regular' spot, and pretty much the only girls in the male dorm mess were already occupied. Then he saw Ryan leaning over a table, sitting alone. It was still amazing to be going to a school with an athlete he'd seen at the X-games.

"Hey, man, what'sup?" Sean asked cheerfully, tray hitting table. Ryan looked up at him with grainy eyes and a tight expression as Sean began tearing into a sandwich. "Whoa, dude! You look like shit. Rough night? Slipped off the mountains or somethin'"

[Sylvia Dorn]

After a lecture that somehow went by in both a blink and an eternity, Sylvia waited with as much patience as she could muster for the last of the students - including the odd flirtation that had sprung up between Frida and this new Ravi fellow - to clear the room. Only when the chairs were once more neatly aligned with the desks did she finally turn out the lights and lock the door.

Dalton's cafeteria was well known for serving up nutritious fare with all the flavour of cardboard. Today's helping of a hamburger stroganoff did nothing to improve upon that reputation; the scent alone told the teacher as much as she made her way to a seat in what was commonly considered the "Faculty Corner". Burke was just leaving; he always dashed through his lunches, and it was only a rare meal that Sylvia could actually spend in polite conversation with her male counterpart from Lancaster. As usual, a quick nod was as much as could be managed before he darted out of the hall.

Resigned to yet another near-solitary meal, Sylvia settled in, taking in the general feel of the room. Something was still wrong, her gut told her, despite the scene of normality. With another sigh that faded into more of a growl, she considered the meal before her.

Tasting it first never entered her mind; she'd had this concoction enough times before to know that it would need ample preparation. A healthy dash of pepper, and then a bit of salt....

As the contents of the shaker, the top of which had been unscrewed by some joker - probably Deacon - dumped into a heaping pile in the midst of her plate, Sylvia briefly felt a flair of anger. That flair faded in a sudden confusion.

She was still confused when she dumped the mess into the trash and left the room, as were the students who watched the Iron House Mother walk out without so much as a scowl after falling to the oldest prank in the book. They couldn't know that she was wondering why something far too faint to call a memory was telling her that she should have dropped a silver coin into that pile of salt.

[Ryan Jackson]

Originally Posted By: Sean Cassidy

"Hey, man, what'sup?" Sean asked cheerfully, tray hitting table. Ryan looked up at him with grainy eyes and a tight expression as Sean began tearing into a sandwich. "Whoa, dude! You look like shit. Rough night? Slipped off the mountains or somethin'"

Ryan looked up and nodded in greeting to Sean. Behind the younger man Ryan saw that the clock, which had read 9:37 when he arrived, now showed a time of 12:03. He blinked, "Was I asleep?" he half mumbled to himself, half asked his sudden companion. He ran a hand through his hair, the motion drawing renewed activity from beneath the fresh bandages on his back. "Dude, I don't know. The nurse said I looked like I'd been attacked by an animal, but I don't remember anything but staying in the dorm with a bad case of the Trotskis. Hell she didn't even remember bandaging me up but she was certain they were her stitches."

Ryan looked around, seeing the café fill up and then realizing that his cereal had progressed beyond soggy, beyond mushy, beyond even paste-like, and was now a congealed mess that was indistinguishable from wallpaper paste. "Anything good up there? I think my breakfast is past its sell by date."

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

"Animal attack?" Sean queried, his brow furrowed, a quizzical light in his stormy eyes. He felt his thigh tighten around the almost-charlie-horse, then shook his head. "Nah, you pro'bly just had a rare slip-up while free-runnin'. Got torn up bad from some bushes or somethin', a bit of concussion fogging the memory."

Sean took another bite of his sandwich, considering the bowl of vomit sitting in front of Ryan. "Beef sandwich is good."

[Ryan Jackson]

Ryan looked down at the grey puddle of goo in his bowl and shoved it away, towards the other then of the table. "Ug, maybe I'll just wait for dinner." He looked around and then at Sean again, "You get sick this weekend too? I feel like I lost two days, I can barely remember anything after the social. What about you?"

[Dawn OOC]

Renata’s confusion lasted throughout her morning classes and into the afternoon. She’d looked at all the buildings on campus and none were the one from her dream. The Science Annex building kinda looked like it, but the one in her dream hadn’t been connected to another building like that. It was eerily familiar, though.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Mari’s run usually took her out into the woods around the campus. She never left the fenced in area, since that was against the rules. She enjoyed the solitude and beauty of nature; the mountains over the trees; the way the high altitude made her work harder. It was God’s glorious work.

Ahead of her was the old maintenance shed. Today, there were people clustered around it, working. She couldn’t see what they were doing; they’d put up tarps to conceal most of the shed. She jogged on past, as one man guarding outside watched her go. There was something creepy about the way he watched her, as if he expected her to do something. An unpleasant aroma of feces and copper hung in the air, too. Shivering, Mari ran on.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jason’s boss was both happy and not happy to see him. He was angry that he’d missed so much work, but also glad he was back. He assigned him to cleaning up the mess in the quad, as well as mowing and handing him a long list of repairs, and a longer list of winterizations that needed to be completed before the first snows. Up here in the mountains, that wasn’t far away. The school was in no danger of being snowed in unless they had an excessive storm, but the winters were very hard on the buildings. It was a lot of work, and Jason sighed as he headed back out into the fall air.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Deacon had finally figured that he’d seen whatever it was in the library, so against all previous jokes and snide remarks, he found himself entering the library for the first time at Dalton. Still, it was familiar, and he found himself back at a section of books, wondering just what he was looking for, exactly.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sean’s phone rang and he scrambled for it. “Hey, Champ,” his dad said. “Candi and I just got our hotel room here in Estes Park. Wanna have a real dinner with your old man, Candi and Blaize tonight?”

[SalmonMax]

Renata stared at the Annex for a second, then shook her head and started to walk on. Then she stopped and looked again. After a second she held up a hand to her eyes, blotting out the building the Annex was connected to.

Wonder if that's a new one, she thought. Then of course, why do I even care?

There was no good answer for that. But then again, why not? She was new to the campus. Might as well nose around a bit. This was as good a place to start as any.

Renata headed over to the Science Annex and tried to find some kind of directory. With any luck, there'd be a 'Subject of creepy skeleton dream' lab, and that'd solve everything, wouldn't it?

[Atomicweasel]

The crisp mountain air filled Mari’s lungs. She sucked in big greedy gulps of it. For nearly an hour she had been running up and down the marked trails in the woods. The sun had come up, dappling the grass through the leaves of the tall trees in the pale glow of the dawning day. Mari’s face was flushed, her whole body slick with sweat that had soaked through her tee and her hoodie. Her legs trembled with fatigue.

As she bent, hands propped on her knees while she caught her breath, Mari twisted to look back over her shoulder. It's probably nothing, she thought. Just some maintenance guys...fixing something. The smell had stuck with her though. She sucked another deep breath into her lungs and walked slowly across the campus, crossing the athletic field on her way back to Lancaster. She felt like putty, weak and wiggly, but feeling the stirrings of a workout high.

Back at the dorm, Mari took a rushed shower, jammed herself into the Academy uniform. Beneath the skirt she wore black hose, and over the shirt a dark brown sweater with a rounded collar. She slipped her little steel crucifix on and tucked it neatly under her shirt and sweater. She checked her backpack, stuffed the math book in along with the others, and hefted the heavy bundle onto her shoulders. Stomping into her flat heeled Mary Janes, she dashed back out of the room.

By the time Mari sat down to breakfast, her shower sleek hair had become a fetching chocolate-colored mane, tumbling past her shoulders and getting in her face until she tamed it with a plain red scrungie.

She made it to her first class one minute before the last bell and settled into her seat at the front row. "Oh look, it's that girl from the projects." Mari heard the whispering a couple of rows behind her. She knew of course they meant her. Most of the other girls in the class were typing their notes on lap-tops, wearing earrings and necklaces that cost more than Mari's mom had paid for their car. The girl next to her, a freckly redhead, who had smiled sweetly when Mari sat beside her, was writing with a gold-trimmed Monte Blanc. The teacher, Mr. Burke, drawled on about integers. He was distractingly hot, but Mari scribbled on her notepad and tried to ignore the murmurings pitched just loud enough for her to hear.

"What, who?"

"Mary something. Total scholarship kid."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And she's a total Jesus freak."

"How do you know all this?"

"I heard from Sandra, who heard it from Melissa who got it from Amy who heard it from Jenny."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, Jenny was--" Mr. Burke must have noticed Mari's deepening blush, her increased squirming as she tried to hold her tongue, because he looked up and fixed the gossiping girl with a penetrating stare.

"Miss Hughes, you must have something real important to talk about..."

"Uh...no, Mr. Bur--"

"No, but it's gotta be. Really important. Because why else would you interrupt my class?" His voice had a hard edge but he softened it with a winsome grin.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Burke."

"Look, call me Tom." He said cheerfully. "Once you get out of here, you can talk all you want. But here in class, I get to do the talking, okay by you?"

Miss Hughes shut her mouth and nodded.

"Great. Let's get back to integers!"

Mari felt a deep pang of gratitude. Mr. Burke must have sensed that too, because he caught her eye and gave her a little wink as the bell rung and the students clambered out of their seats in a clamor.

"Miss Palacios," Mr. Burke smiled at Mari as she stood up from her desk and gestured her over. Hesitantly she padded up to him and looked at him expectantly.

"Mari," Mr. Burke leaned back against his desk, glancing over as the last student escaped out the door. "this place can be a little tough on the newcomer. You need help with anything, tutoring, whatever, or just someone to talk to, you let me know, okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Burke--"

"Tom. Please."

"Tom. Thank you. I will." Mari returned his smile and ducked out of the classroom.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to Mr. Burkes's classroom. In art class, she kept trying to draw his head and messing up the smile. In PE she imagined that the red rubber ball they were playing kick-ball with was the head of Vanessa Hughes. It was not the kind of pettiness Mari usually indulged in, but she scored a lot of points.

By the time she made it to the cafeteria, Mari was starving. She got a serving of macaroni and cheese, a little side-salad, a glass of apple-juice and a vibrant green square of jello in a cup. Intimidated by the crowds of students who all seemed to know each other, voices raised in a cacophony of laughter and squealing and banter, Mari sought out the end of a long table and sat on the corner.

She closed her eyes, ducked her head and whispered "Bless us O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord. Amen." and took a big bite of macaroni and cheese.

__________________

Height: 5'1", Weight: 102 lbs, Hair: Dark brown, Eyes: Hazel, Striking looks 4, Dexterity 4, Presence 4

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

Originally Posted By: Ryan

"You get sick this weekend too? I feel like I lost two days, I can barely remember anything after the social. What about you?"

Sean nodded his head, finishing off his sandwich. "Mmmhmmphm, murmphmr." Sean swallowed, then repeated himself, "Yeah, I was sick like a dog too. I have fuzzy memories of being outside, so I must've ran drills or something. But after those assholes crashed the Ice Cream Social, I don't really recall much of anything either. Weird."

Sean shrugged, then began to stand up, giving Ryan an offer. "Still hungry. I'm gonna grab something else, Ryan, you sure you don't-" The handsome jock was cut off by the digitized tones of The Offspring coming from his phone. He plopped back down on his seat and snatched it open with alacrity.

"Dad? You called." Sean answered, pleasantly surprised, if almost slightly puzzled why his dad was even calling.

"... "

"You're here? Sure, it'd like that. A lot." Though he sounded enthusiastic, there was also a slight bit of reticence in Sean's tone, that he didn't seem aware of. "Does she need a ride too?"

"... "

"Nah, I'm sure I can find her." If she looks anything like Candi, it won't be hard. For a moment, he was sure she did resemble her older sister, though he was also sure he had never even seen her. "Around six? I have practice."

"..."

"'Kay, me too. I'll see you then. Later Dad." Sean stared at his phone for a long moment, running a hand through his hair, then turned his attention back to Ryan, stormy eyes dark. "Hmm. Guess I have dinner plans tonight. I'm not even sure if I was expecting him - he cancels all the time. My dad came down with his new wife - haven't seen him since he packed my off to my mother's when he went on his honeymoon with Candi." Sean chuckled wryly. "This won't be awkward at all. Me, Dad, Candi, and her younger sister, who's a student here at Dalton. Isn't life great?"

"Fuck it," Sean said, standing back up. "I'm still hungry. You sure you don't want anything, Ryan? Some fuel might actually make you feel better." He waited for Ryan's answer, or for him to get up, then started across the cafeteria.

[Ryan Jackson]

Originally Posted By: Sean Cassidy

"Fuck it," Sean said, standing back up. "I'm still hungry. You sure you don't want anything, Ryan? Some fuel might actually make you feel better." He waited for Ryan's answer, or for him to get up, then started across the cafeteria.

Ryan had retrieved the bowl of glop when Sean's phone rang and was literally playing with his food while the other boy was on the phone. Now he looked up and pushed the blow forward where Sean could see it. Sculpted and carved in the thick mush was a crude pair of breasts, "I made these for you while you were on the phone." Ryan smiled, a genuine smile of mirth, and then began to laugh. He stood up, and added in a falsetto, "Oh hi daddy, no I'm just pleased as a peach to hear from you ..." he laughed again. "Dude, smile a little, just bustin' your balls. Let's go see if this dump has anything that would qualify as food in the rest of the world." He stretched and grimaced as his torso twisted, pulling at the healing wounds on his back, "Fuck if I know what I did, but it sure as hell hurts now."

[Rorx]

Not long after getting his lists of jobs for the day, although it looked like it was likely to take several days by the list of winterizations, Jason was sitting on one of the mowers and driving it out onto the pitches. Unlike some of the other staff at Dalton he didn't like to wear an iPod while working. Perhaps i it was a hangover from his army days better prefered to be able to hear what was going on around him. In all the mowing took Jason the rest of the morning, what with having to use another machine to try to collect most of the cuttings for processing as a cheap alternative to the more expensive feed used for the horses in the stables.

Since it was lunchtime, Jason headed over to the nearest cafe to grab some lunch, and was surprised to see to fairly obviously injured students there. He was surprised that he hadn't heard anything on the grapevine, school gossip was usually pretty good on stuff like that but all he'd heard so far today had been about the virus that had affected more then half the school.

"Hey what happend to you two?" he asked as he passed them on the way to the counter,

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

Originally Posted By: Ryan

"Fuck if I know what I did, but it sure as hell hurts now."

"Shouldn't've have left the back door open in the shower then, dude," Sean countered, but he was laughing too. "Those are the most lopsided pair'a tits I've ever seen." Sean got up with his tray and followed at Ryan's side, a shoulder to lean on, though he didn't say anything about it. "The food isn't that bad, better than my last school anyway."

The two Mars House athletes were almost at the food counter when Groundskeeper Jason approached them. Sean felt a chill, as of night shadows rippling across his skin, then shrugged it off.

Originally Posted By: Jason

"Hey what happend to you two?"

"Me? I'm fine. It's this guy here," Sean said, jerking a thumb at Ryan. "Ryan was reenacting Reservoir Dogs. He got tapped to play Marvin Nash." Sean saw their blank looks and sighed. "'Stuck Here in the Middle with You'? Nevermind - It's not funny if I have to explain it."

[Ryan Jackson]

Ryan shrugged, "I fell, or something. I don't really remember, everything since Friday is kinda fuzzy, I guess I was sick or something." He pushed past Sean to grab the last brownie from the desert bar. Seeing the look on Sean's face he licked it and the offered it to Sean, "Sorry, did you want this?"

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

Sean considered the last brownie standing, glistening with douche spit, then took it. Keeping his eyes locked on Ryan's, he licked the other side, than handed it back.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though." Sean's smirk was victorious.

[Ryan Jackson]

Ryan's jaw dropped. He stared, crestfallen at the now sullied brownie. "Dude. Not cool. Funny, but not cool." He sidearmed the plate and brownie into the trash and grabbed a pair of cupcakes. He handed one to Sean, "Here, before I change my mind about making you wear these like bitch tits." He had a mirthful sparkle in his eye that betrayed the scowl on his face.

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

Sean accepted the cupcake with a short nod, acknowledging a good point scored, and that Ryan recognized it. "You're gonna need bigger cupcakes, then, bud," Sean snorted, then took a big bite of the treat, cheeks puffed out as he tried to chew more than half of it. His stormy eye were light and clear, grinning around his mouthful of cupcake.

Moving down counter, Sean added another roast beef sandwich and grabbed a bottle of Pepsi from the cooler to wash down his tit cupcake. He looked over at Jason as he began heading back to their table.

"I think we're mostly okay after all, Jason."

[Atomicweasel]

Mari felt more than one pair of eyes on her as she finished up her lunch and sipped through the last of her apple juice, but no one was brave enough to approach her and sit beside her. She wasn't feeling especially brave on her third day at Dalton, either. As she picked up her tray and walked it over to the dirty tray cart, she resolved that tomorrow she would start a conversation with someone. She couldn't expect God to reach out and hand her a best friend, just plonk them down at her table, Hi, I'm Joceyln, I'll be your bff and since you're my size why not share all my super awesome clothes that I have because my parents are crazy rich, okay!? Great! Wanna ride my horse?! Wanna go on a skiing trip with me to Aspen? Wanna come play on my PS3? If she wanted friends she'd have to make them herself. Starting tomorrow.

Mari padded out of the cafeteria and glanced at her watch as she skipped down the stoop and out onto the winding path that led around the dorms to the library. She had some free time before her next classes and she wanted the comfort of something familiar. In Dalton, nothing seemed familiar. The food was different, the people were different, even the language was different. Maybe that's why I feel so strange, Mari reflected. She hadn't heard anyone speak a word of Spanish since she got to the Academy...except for her family on the phone. Even the janitors spoke English here...

[Ryan Jackson]

"Yeah, the nurse said she fixed me up just fine, despite not remembering doing it." He made an odd face, the expression conveyed the question, How they hell did we all forget a weekend? "Anyways, they gave me the day off from classes and some pain meds, I guess I should be fine in a couple of days, they weren't too bad I guess." Ryan shrugged, grimacing at the stab of pain, "Of course if I keep forgetting I have injuries I probably wont."

[Rorx]

Jason smiles at the guys horse play, they can't be feeling too bad to carry on like that, or perhaps they are just dosed enough not to realise it?

"Yeah, I'd take things easy for at least a couple of days if I were you. It's easy to underestimate how long an injury will take to heal up properly and to overdo things too soon."

As he talks Jason goes along the counter selecting a sandwich, a packet of chips and snickers to go withhis coffee, before finding a table to sit at.

[Logic1]

Classes flew by in a blur. Thank the gods for that. Everett spent most of the morning reflecting on the odd feeling he'd been getting from every door he glanced at. It felt as if he'd lost time. He knew he'd been sick, didn't feel that much better Ev thought as he reclined at his desk. He'd traded one feeling in the pit of his stomach for another. Throwing a casual glance to the clock he shifted his position.

Time to get the hell out of here, and it couldn't have come soon enough. He hadn't heard a word spoken all day. Shake it off he told himself as he jumped up to leave class. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked from the classroom and headed back to the Mars Mess Hall.

Inside he surveyed the area quickly before heading to the line. He quickly selected a sandwich and a bag of chips. Next to spot a table. He scanned the room yet again before making out two guys at a table not far from him.

What the hell he thought as he wandered over.

Everett nodded to the pair "What's up? You mind?" he queried absently.

[Tatiana di Jadzian]

"Huh?" Sean looked up at the newcomer after taking a bite from his sandwich, then waved him to a seat. "Sure, no problem. Take a seat." The powerfully built young man cocked his head, brows lowered over his stormy eyes. "I'm sorry, dude, I'm sure I've met you before, but I can't quite get your name of the end of my tongue. I'm still new here."

Sean wiped his hand on his pants then stuck it out for a shake, a welcoming grin on his face. "I'm Sean Cassidy."

[Jeremy]

Chester walked in with little more than a milk and a bagel. It seemed as if that all would be best, as his head hadn't been so good. Or so it had seemed. As if his memories had vanished since Sunday. That seemed utterly wrong, he never forgot anything. Much less two whole days.

Flashes of a fight, a body, fear... Eh, something happened at the Social, but probably a few guys got out of control. He flitted in between the other students, hardly being noticed.

He slipped over to the table with Sean. "Hey, can I sit here?"

[Ryan Jackson]

Ryan plopped down with a sport drink and a "ham sammich" as he finished the cupcake he'd grabbed in line. "Mmmfghsh," he mumbles around the mouthful. With a grimace he swallows, washes it down and says, "Nah sit down. I don't think we've met. I'm Ryan." He didn't give his last name, hoping to avoid the usual X-games talk that seemed to be all he ever got when people realized who he was.