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World of Darkness: The Academy - Chapter 7: The Way They Were


Dawn OOC

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Sean winced at Renata's tone then emitted his own tired sigh. "No, no one mentioned Mari - Maria, the soccer queen? - nearly gettin' killed by Ra- uh, the werecougars. But Frida was there, even after the cougars - yes, yes panthers! - took off and the dea- and she didn't mention another student being hurt- Just give me a sec."

Sean refrained from rolling his eyes as he nodded to Frida in thanks of her clarification then looked at Ms. Dorn with a cocked a head, silently asking permission. He covered his phone with his hand, whispering, "It's Renata, and she has Mari with her."

Sylvia deliberated quickly, then gave the well-built football star a sharp nod. "Very well. Ask Ms. Hodges to meet us here."

Sean nodded as he placed the to his ear again. "Okay, how 'bout you meet us here, in Ms. Dorn's office? We're all here anyway, and it's a little more private than the cafeteria, eh?" The broad-shouldered young man hunched over his phone, his voice a low rumble. "And are you sure you want to bring Mari in on this? Shit is really messed up, Ren. If Mari still has a chance to can keep her cleats clean, it might be better for her."

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"She's already in it up to her neck," Renata replied. "We can't leave her out now. Anyway, we're eating. If you guys don't want to come here, we'll head over to Dorn's office after we're done."

She paused for just a second, then added with a fierce grin, "Don't forget about us," and hung up.

Only then did Renata let the laugh she'd been trying to hold in out. "Aw, I wish I coulda seen his face." She nodded at Mari. "C'mon, lets get some food. They're up at Dorn's office, but I'm hungry."

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Lucia fought the urge to hurl the phone across the room in frustration, which was good since she probably would have brained Rosa or Ahvia as they came through the door. Ahvia came in first, her expression worried as she caught sight of Lucia; Rosa stopped in the doorway, eyes wide in shock.

"Lucia," Ahvia said softly, touching her friend's shoulder. "Are you alright? The darkness, it is your eyes again."

It took several long moments for Lucia to put together what Ahvia meant; she made her way into the bathroom and started at the completely black-eyed girl staring back at her. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down, taking deep breaths and trying to not to listen to Rosa quick and nearly panicked questions to Ahvia. Once she'd reclaimed the whites of her eyes and the normal chocolate covered irises, she stepped back into the bedroom.

"Um....sorry about that." She could hardly look at Rosa; she didn't want to see fear in her friend's eyes.

She felt hands wrap around hers as Rosa tugged her into one of the chairs. "I...that's....kinda scary, Lucia...but, I'm your best friend. What kind of person would I be if I freaked out just because things got a little scary? I know my parents want me to be more ambitious...more aggressive in life..." more like you "...but I'm not. I am loyal, though. And I can be brave. Just don't run away without me again, okay?"

Lucia was too emotionally drained to even attempt to fight the tears, so she just hugged Rosa and promised. "Thank you."

After a moment of hugging and wiping away tears, Lucia got back to business as much as she could. Too much going on too fast. There's no time to think. "Um, a friend of my mom's, my emergency contact for her, is coming to Dalton. Their name is Yasu and that's pretty much all I know about them. I think they live nearby, though, because they made it sound like they would be here pretty quick. Mom's gone missing from trying to go find me. Apparently I was kidnapped when I was little....or my mom kidnapped me from somewhere else. I don't know. It's all really confusing, but Yasu said that they'd explain when they got here. So, we should probably go wait by the front gate, just make sure they can get in past all the cops and stuff. Ahvia, with all the investigations going on today, we need to keep you out of sight. Any ideas? I'm...pretty much out right now."

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Sean's mouth twisted in contrite annoyance. "Look, I swear I wo-" but he finished speaking to a dial-tone "-n't forget." He sighed as he snapped his phone close and turned back to the others.

"Renata and Mari are goin' to be joinin' us right after they grab somethin' to eat." He grimaced. "Apparently, Mari has already been pulled in to deep, at least Renata thinks so." Sean shrugged, not sure what to make of it, but agreeing nonetheless. "So, are we gonna paint over the mural or wait 'til Administrator Corpse and Administrator Bitch find it? Uh, sorry Ms, Dorn."

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“Okay.” Mari agreed. Together they walked around the lined off quad and across the grassy slope that led up to the central campus cafeteria, creatively nicknamed ‘Central’ by the students at Dalton. They passed the brick and stucco entrance, tromping up the stairs and squeezing past the students coming down. The dining hall, recently remodeled with a generous donation from the Daniels family in New Brighton, was elegantly done in frosted glass and deco lighting. It looked, Mari thought, like one of those converted loft restaurants in Manhattan...that she’d seen through the windows. Now she was a part of this strange privileged world of wealth and station, even if just peripherally. Cherry wood and private lawns and landscaped gardens and cashmeres and alpaca wool and foie gras—I still don’t know what that is—and marble and Movado watches and cars that cost more than houses...and panthers. So surreal.

She and Renata had the line to themselves. Mari followed in Renata’s wake, agonizing over a fruit salad or a pasta salad, ciabbata sandwich or spinach quiche, while Renata moved swiftly from station to station, piling her plate with roast beef and mashed potatoes and baby carrots browned in sugar. By the time Mari had collected her drink and swiped her meal card at the register, Renata had already chosen a table by the window.

“These taste like candy.” Renata told Mari, gobbling one of the syrupy carrots and washing it down with a gulp of her lemonade.

Mari poked thoughtfully at a grape and then turned to look out the window. “My mom asked me if I wanted to come home.”

“What?” Renata’s fork paused, carrot half-way to her mouth. “Why?”

“Because Ravi turned into a panther and almost ate me, I guess.”

Renata coughed bits of carrot out of her lungs, grabbed at her napkin as her face turned red and drank urgently from her lemonade. “Are you fucking crazy!?” She looked around, caught her breath and leaned forward. “Are you fucking crazy?” Renata whispered this time. “You told her that?”

“No. I just told her about the panthers.” Mari popped a cubed chunk of strawberry into her mouth and shrugged at Renata’s glare. “I had to tell her something. She’s my mom.”

“So, what exactly did you tell her?” Renata started carving up her roast.

Mari shrugged again. “I don’t know. Pretty much everything except the truth.” She sighed and took a bite of her quiche and sat back in her chair. “I’ve never lied to my mom before.”

“You didn’t lie,” Renata said around a mouthful of meat. “You just didn’t tell her the whole truth.”

“That’s the same as a lie.” Mari said stubbornly.

“Listen, Mari.” Renata chewed busily and then stabbed another morsel of meat and lifted her fork off her plate to point it at Mari. “Apu the were-cougar was right about one thing—If you tell people what you really saw they’ll put you in a little jacket in a nice white room and some giant douche bag with a name-tag that says ‘Fred’ will come talk to you about your feelings and give you lots of yummy pills to swallow. Do you want that to happen?”

“No.” Mari meekly conceded.

“Then don’t tell anyone.” Renata emptied her glass and stood up. “I’m gonna get some more lemonade.”

__________________

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

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Mari's face bugged Renata as she stalked over to the drink table and held her up under the little spigot. It bugged her because she didn't get it. What was her problem? The choice was binary, and self-explanatory. On one hand you told the truth and were punished, on the other you lied and avoided consequences, risk-free. Life was full of choices like that, despite the efforts of Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street to brainwash the masses that 'honesty was the best policy.' What was or wasn't 'best' was situatonal. And it wasn't like telling the truth would be doing her folks any favors.

So why did Mari look like she'd just made the decision to put down her cat?

Ren took a sip of the lemonade, wincing as she savored its tartness. She refilled the cup, buying herself more time to think before going back. It was tempting to add sugar, but she didn't. Too much of that, and the juice would taste like Kool-Aid.

And in one of those sudden reversals that hit the brain sometimes, Renata realized in a flash that Mari had drunk the Kool-Aid. It flashed before her eyes. Mari as an adorable little six year old, watching TV on her mom's lap, eagerly and unquestioningly absorbing its messages. Mari at ten, admitting sheepishly that she had taken something and sincerely apologizing...and accepting her punishment without complaint, secure in the knowledge that at least she hadn't lied about it. Mari, who either hadn't noticed the hypocrisy of the world she inhabited...or didn't lower herself to participate in it.

But Mari had stumbled into secrets older than herself, that had been kept by more people, for far better reasons than the well-meaning cast of The Electric Company could ever imagine. If she couldn't adjust to that, the pressure would just keep building until she snappped and either told everyone everything...or found some other, equally catastrophic solution to, like stapling her mouth shut or something.

So as she walked back to the table, Renata asked herself something she almost never did. What would Dad say?

"Hey," Ren said to Mari, sitting down. "I'm sorry I snapped at you before. I know this is really hard for you. I was just worried for you." Telling the truth established your sincerity, setting the lie up. "It's just...I'm worried for your folks too. There's people like Pritchard, and that veiny guy, who all are protecting the secrets around hee. If they ever found out you told someone..." She shrugged, a worried expression on her face, then gave Mari a smile. "I think it's really brave of you though...doing the hard thing even if it hurts, to make sure they're safe."

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Mari stared, first at Renata and then at her quiche. She had taken a bite of it and savored the sweet flaky texture of the crust and the piping hot mix of spinach and eggs with just a hint of tomato sauce. It had tasted so nice she'd felt she could have eaten two of them, one after the other. Now the quiche sat on her plate like an oily lump that bled yellowish orange grease. The sharp hunger she'd felt was gone. She could barely even contemplate another grape.

"You think they'd try to hurt my family?" Mari fought off a wave of nausea. She felt light-headed and dizzy and her stomach had made a fist of itself deep inside her belly like a period cramp. A horrible image began to spread through Mari's mind like a cancer. She imagined the humble duplex where her mother and her sisters lived. A grayish blue-veined hand reached out from the cuff of a heavy black overcoat to press an ashen finger against the doorbell. Mari's mother came, followed by the fresh spicy smells of her kitchen. She opened the door, expecting the postman. Or a neighbor. Or Nicolas Rendon from down the street who had a thing for Yani. But instead she found a ghoul smiling a sickly sinister smile made of pale thin lips and darkly discolored teeth. Mrs. Palacios. We have some things to discuss...

"Well..." Renata hesitated, seeing the stricken look on Mari's face.

"I never even thought of that!" Mari blurted miserably. Her hands trembled on the tabletop until Mari clasped them together. "Why would they do that?" She implored Renata earnestly. "Maybe I should just go home." Mari swiped her hoodie sleeve across her eyes from left to right.

__________________

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

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...good one, Hodges, thought Renata sickly. Did you actually think doing something Dad's way would ever lead to anything GOOD?

"Wait," she said, trying to think of some logic, some reason to counter what was at heart probably a pretty good idea. Just go to a different school. Leave the Spooky behind. Why deal with it?

"This is still a school, no matter what else is going on. They can't just...threaten students, or families, or else there'd be no one going here. I think your folks, just like my folks, are going to be fine. These guys working for the school are protecting the school's secrets, right? So they can't do things that would bring attention. And believe me, the kind of families that send their kids here? If anything happened to them, they'd rain all kinds of unholy shit on this school trying to find out why."

Renata reached across the table to give Mari's hand a squeeze, and just touching her and seeing her so vulnerable made her feel two inches tall. For a second her heart struggled to beat, and her throat felt tight and dry.

What am I doing? This is probably the worst place in the world for her...and I'm trying to convince her to stay. Why? Because she's hot? Really? Is she hot enough to die for it?

Whatever words of encouragement she'd been formulating died on her lips, and all she could say was, "I'm the most selfish bitch in the world," in a quiet murmur. Then, though her eyes moistened at the thought, she said, "You're right, Mari. It's not safe here. I...I don't know what's going on, and I don't really think your family's in danger...but I know you are." Her stomach churned as if it was getting ready to vomit, but she couldn't stop herself from whispering, "You should go where you're safe. You deserve better than..." me "...this place."

Renata let go of Mari's hand and got up, food largely untouched. She tried injecting anger into the maelstrom of pain and loss that was roaring through her, but it just wouldn't take. We just MET, goddamnit...why does it feel like I'm ripping an arm off?!

"So, uh, I'm gonna go meet up with the others, I guess. I'm really sorry I scared you like that." Her throat tightened again, but she forced a smile. "It sucks that this school is so fucked up."

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Originally Posted By: Sean Cassidy
"So, are we gonna paint over the mural or wait 'til Administrator Corpse and Administrator Bitch find it? Uh, sorry Ms, Dorn."


Ryan made a face. Painting sure as hell sounded like work and decidedly not like fun. "I hate you right now. Remind me to kick your ass later for volunteering me." Ryan stood up and started for the door. He stopped, "Don't all just sit there, come on." Normally one might assume that he'd assumed that nobody had moved from the general quiet state of the room, the lack of the sounds of people getting up, of chairs being pushed about. Instead though Ryan was sure, he knew because he could see for himself despite his eyes looking elsewhere. "Time's a' wastin' and I haven't had food yet. Unless you want to detour past the café on the way let's get moving. OK?"
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Lucia

Ahvia thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "I can hide in the trees and they will not find me," she promised. "That would be better than being trapped in a building." At Rosa's confused expression, the other-worlder sighed good-naturely and translated. She added, "Rosa, I must learn you my language."

Rosa gave her a smile tinged with unfriendliness. It wasn't mean - just unsure about this new person who seemed to be wedging herself into her friendship with Lucia. "Or you'll just have to remember to use English," she said in a tone that matched her smile.

"Then I go tree, you go gate," Ahvia said, looking for one girl to the other. If she caught Rosa's undertone, she made no mention of it.

Sean, Ryan... just about everyone :P

"I'm hungry as well," Swan said, the first thing she'd uttered yet. She rose and was already pulling her hood into place. "And I can help paint, Ryan." She hesitated, then asked, "What is painting?"

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"Painting is the application of paint - a mixture of pigment and binder - by brush or other tool, to a canvas of some sort.. either for the purpose of creating art, or to cover the interior or exterior walls of a space."

Swan stared blankly at the young woman for a moment, as did several of the others. Frida let out a soft sigh and stood up then, walking to the door and opening it for everyone.

"I painted the picture on the wall of the art room. And now they're going to paint over it. Come along.. we'll show you."

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They moved as a bunch, putting Swan in the middle. Frida called Renata quickly - Sean didn't want a second chance to put his foot in it - and told her about the shift of location. By the time the young artist was slipping her phone back into her pocket, Sylvia was pushing open the door to the art room. The protective teacher had insisted on being first, despite Ryan assuring her that no one was in there. That wasn't unusual on a Saturday morning; Mr. Bracks usually showed up later on the weekends.

Once Sylvia gave them the all-clear, the band trooped into the room.

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“You’re leaving right now?” Mari asked Renata.

“Yeah. So um, so long, I guess,” Renata tilted her chin up at Mari and turned toward the door. She fought the urge to break into a run, to flee headlong out the cafeteria door.

“Wait, I’ll walk with you.” Mari pushed her chair back and started after Renata. Renata paused at the door, feeling some hollow part of her chest give an agonized lurch. Walking across the field with Mari was an exquisite torture. Would she ever see the soft profile of Mari’s face again? Would she ever smell the sweet coconut and sun smell of her skin, ever hear her infectious little giggle? Just stop thinking about it. Renata told herself.

Halfway back to the dorm Renata’s phone buzzed and sang from her jeans pocket. Renata fished it out and held it to her ear. “Hey. You were right. I’m going to come alone, Mari doesn’t need to be there.” She glanced over at Mari who’d made herself busy counting blades of grass. “But you just said…fine.” Renata shrugged. “Whatever, I’ll see you there. Try to stay put, for like, ten seconds, cool?” She snapped the phone shut and heaved a sigh. “I guess I’m going to the arts building, But um, we can walk as far as Lancaster together.”

“Okay.”

,,

The two girls walked on under a heavy silence. They parted ways as they approached the front entrance of Lancaster. “Bye.” Mari said simply, then stepped forward to give Renata a quick hug. Renata held herself stiff. She wanted to clutch at Mari to lower her nose to Mari’s hair and breathe deep and not let go. She didn’t trust herself to speak and turned away from Mari’s surprised and wounded look. If she stayed a moment longer she would scream.

Mari watched Renata walk away. She looked up at the dorm. All she had to do was walk inside and make a call and she could be on a bus tonight. Back home. Away from Lancaster and Dalton and all its strangeness. Away from Ravi and Renata. Mari stood indecisively before the door, wringing her hands. It felt wrong. How could she abandon her friends to their fates? She had been shown a sign in her dream. She had been brought to Ravi to help him, to guide him and to give him succor from his curse...not to give him hug therapy and be on her merry way. She was sure of that. And Renata looked so angry and alone. She needs me too.

“Ren, wait!” Renata spun. Mari came racing up to her, breathless and flushed…

__________________

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

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Sean rolled his eyes at Ms. Dorn's insistence on being the first one in the Art-room, but he was still the next one in right after her, a hand holding open the wooden door for the others. Light filtering through the wire-reinforced glass painted a distorted grid on the floor. As the rest of the students stepped inside, Sean studied the room. It looked undisturbed from when he and Frida were there last, artwork still being flattened under textbooks and the darkly emphatic mural dominating the far wall.

"Well, there it is," Sean said, unnecessarily gesturing at the mural without really looking at it. While the others got their fist look at Frida's midnight masterpiece, Sean called Jason. The groundskeeper sounded tensely distracted, but after having Sean tell him which building and room number they were in, promised to have the supplies there in ten minutes.

"Jason said he'll be here in a few with the paint."

Sean straightened from leaning against the wall to begin shoving the tables against the side of the room so they could get a full, clear view of the mural, with nothing to impede any photos they took and to give them space to paint. Sean looked down at Frida, a dark brow raised over a blue-grey eye. The mural encompassed the entire wall. He wasn't even sure how Frida managed to reached the upper corners.

Holding up his phone, centering the mural on his camera phone, his attention went back to the tall, amazonian women in furs with a sense of foreboding familiarity. No... she couldn't be, they can't be...

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It wasn't possible, what she'd heard, Renata knew. Life wasn't a John Hughes movie, where just when things seemed like they'd hit bottom, suddenly everything went right. She turned around at the sound of someone calling though, and there she'd been.

Mari was coming back. And damned if there wasn't a lump in her throat.

"Wait!," Mari called in her head. "I just realized I couldn't leave...not you. This may sound crazy, but..."

She choked off the fantasy before it stripped away what was left of her decor. "Mari, what are you doing?" She was trying to sound angry, but she couldn't keep the grin off her face. "It's not safe, remember?"

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"See, I told you it was empty. I'll be honest, this doesn't bode well for Christmas gifts and surprise birthday parties, but it's still kinda cool." Ryan took a long look at the mural, to his other sight it had been little more than a wall with some irregular surface spots, to his vision it was horrifying and amazing. "Damn, Frida, how'd you do all this in one night?"

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“I know.” Mari shrugged and grinned back sheepishly. “It’s not safe for you either.”

“Mari—“

“I’m coming with you.” Mari said stubbornly. The two girls briefly stared at one another, Renata with her fists planted firmly on her hips, Mari with her hands stuffed into the front pockets of her little white shorts. At length Renata sighed and threw back her head, affecting a great deal more chagrin than she really felt.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

They went into the arts building, Mari walking quickly to keep up with Renata’s long strides. No sooner had they stepped through the student workshop doors than Mari froze in her tracks. She stared at the sprawling mural that went from wall to wall, her mouth open in disbelief. While Renata moved into the room to greet Sean with a squint and a ‘hey,’ Mari stepped closer to the panthers Frida had painted, her hand outstreched, but not touching the art. She seemed oblivious to everyone and everything else.

“Wow.”

__________________

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

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"This is pretty fucked up," was Renata's reaction as she scanned the mural. She looked over at Sean. "So we're NOT keeping a low profile then? I think there's a lot I'm missing, because yesterday you guys were pissing yourself just thinking of getting Pritchard's attention, and now we're changing a classroom into an illustrated journal of everything creepy?"

She looked around, taking in everyone present...including Swan. "Is this because of that sword you mentioned? Oh, just a second."

Renata went over to Mari, put an arm around her shoulder, and turned her to face Swan. "Mari, this is Swan. Or as I like to think of her, 'proof I'm not insane.' Swan, this is Mari."

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Sean was just pressing the button to take a picture of the mural when Renata and Mari marched into the room, causing him to mess up the photo. He watched Mari approach the mural, hand reaching out for the panther, then turned to Renata, giving her a wry scowl.

"This has nothin' to do with the sword. That exploded after I cut it in half. This is... I'm not sure what. Frida had a, uh, an 'episode' or somethin' and did this - all of it," Sean said, gesturing to encompass the entirety of the wall, "last night."

"Jason's gonna be here in a few minutes with stuff so we can paint..." the broad-shouldered jock in dark-stained clothing continued, trailing off when Renata dragged Mari back to confront Swan.

Swan glanced at Sean, who shrugged back. "It's your call, Swan, but she's gonna see soon enough anyway." The milky-skinned woman in teen's clothing looked down at the petite freshman in silent regard, eyes hidden mirror-finished lenses.

After a long moment, she gave a resolute nod. "Very well." Chin tilted up in determination, Swan pulled the mirror-shades off, meeting Mari's gaze with eyes of solid, pure black. A bird's eyes that gave away nothing. A swan's eyes.

Or a raven's.

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"I was scared."

Timid wasn't a word those who knew Frida normally associated with her. She was straightforward, but never hesitated to answer questions or volunteer information, whether in class or at oddly inappropriate moments. But that's certainly how she sounded at the moment, because Renata was quite right.. it was a rather obvious proclamation.

"I'm sorry. I just.. couldn't find any paper large enough. And I had to get it out of my mind. Painting is usually the only way I can do that. In order to stop thinking about it I have to transfer it to canvas. The details suffered though. I suppose I was too upset to make it completely accurate.. I just wanted to finish it..."

Her gaze flickered up at the mural as she studied it in person for the last time. Then she took a deep breath, and motioned to Sean.

"Go on. Take the pictures. We'll be.. I mean.. it'll be gone soon."

She tries to supress her vague nauseau at the thought, but the others could tell the idea of panting over her night's labor was distressing to the young woman.

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Mari’s reaction to Swan’s unveiling was almost comical. She gave a gasp and jumped and her hands flew up to cover her mouth and muffle the stunned whisper that came from it, “oh my God.” She went to step back, but Renata’s arm steadied her. The eyes were the mirror to the soul, and Swan’s were empty, filled with a deep dark void. A chill ran down Mari’s spine. She had never doubted God, but she had never put much thought into Satan. That was just monsters under the bed. Something you told people that couldn’t find God for themselves, that had to be scared into it. But devils and demons weren’t real. Or so she’d always believed.

“Don’t get too freaked out. Swan’s okay. Besides, this is what you signed up for. Danger. Excitement. Aliens...” Renata turned to look again at Frida’s mural, “freaky ass paintings.” She gave Mari an encouraging little push toward Swan. “So buck up. Say hi.”

“Hi!” Mari squeaked, then immediately slipped around Swan and skirted over to Frida’s side. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was worried when Trevor came back and you...” Mari trailed off, glancing nervously back at Swan and then staring at the mural. “It’s beautiful. I mean. It’s terrible, but it’s beautiful. Why did you say it’ll be gone soon?”

__________________

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

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Frida paused for a moment, glancing down at the shorter underclassmen girl and staring at her for a moment, blinking once or twice. Of course, Mari didn't know Frida well enough to realize that this was the young artist's "startled expression".

"Thank you. I didn't mean to worry anyone. It'll be gone soon because they're going to cover it with wall paint so that no one can see it."

Mari's eyes widened at Frida's statement, and she shook her head, looking horrified at the thought.

"You can't do that! It's beautiful! You can't just cover it up like that!"

Frida's gaze flickered to the mural again, scanning the details with her intense gaze before settling it again on Mari. This close to the young artist, Mari could see the tenseness of her jaw, and hear the tightness in her voice. It was obvious to her that the idea of painting over the mural was just as abhorrent to it's creator as it was to her.. she was just doing a better job of concealing that emotion.

"I shouldn't have even painted it. Renata is right - it was foolish. We agreed to try to keep these things secret. People will want to know what it means."

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Sean looked down on the girls, a slight trace of the typical jock vacuousness seen in every teen movie entering his blue-grey eyes. He didn't get it. He held up his hand, shaking his cellphone at them. "What's the problem? We're gonna get a couple pics of it, so you'll always have a copy of it."

Sean glanced at his phone, a sheepish grin on his face. "We should probably use something better than the cruddy camera on my phone though." Sean suddenly snapped his fingers, having a flash of insight. "We're in the Art-Room, it shouldn't be a problem to nab one of those good cameras from the photography class."

Frida and Mari share one of those women looks - you know the ones, like they've just had a three hour conversation in about one second - then turned their eyes on the muscular teen, deep bistre and soft hazel alike, glimmering with muted disapproval. "You don't get it," Mari chimed, propping a hand on a quirked hip.

Before Sean could rebut, Ryan piped. "There's someone out in the hall, his hands full," he claimed just before there was a thumping at the door. Jason followed in the heels of the knock, two pails of paint in one hand, the other occupied with several stacked paint-trays, brushes, and rollers.

Instincts honed in the Gulf, Jason swiftly took in the room, its occupants, and the mural, arriving at an inescapable conclusion. "Sean, covering up that mural is going to take more than two coats of paint and twenty minutes. It's going to take two full coats of latex primer, allowing time to draw, and maybe some fine sanding, otherwise it's going to bleed through. I'll be back in a few." The groundskeeper settled his first load of supplies next to the door than was striding briskly back down the halls to the maintenance-room.

"I, well, yeah, I was just tryin' to make it sound like not that big a deal," Sean attempted to claim.

Ryan just gave him a bland, squinty look. "Dude, this is way more than I signed up for," the rangy athlete said with admirable understatement, considering they were apparently already having to deal with witch-administrators and werecats and radar-vision.

Oh, my.

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“Um…” So, not only does this guy look like he belongs in movies, he talks like it, too. The hint of an accent, the subtle velvet undertones, and the off-handedly cultured quality of Ravi's voice were a pleasantly exotic combination that warmed her ears the way a few stolen sips of red wine warmed her belly. In fact, the longer she looked at him, the more she felt as if she’d been drinking: flushed, giddy, and more than a little light-headed.

Whoa.

Blinking, Autumn broke eye contact just as the leaves in the periphery of her vision started getting fuzzy. She looked down at herself, grimacing. No socks, old jeans, the shirt I slept in, and, oh yeah. The girls. Not that it mattered, much, really; hadn’t she just run all the way over from Persephone?

“Yeah, sure. Breakfast sounds awesome. I, uh…” She shrugged at the stunning young man, shifting her grip on the branch overhead. “I don’t think there’s much point in looking for him, though.” Scanning the canopy one last time, she shook her head. “He’ll come back if he wants to. Oh, and, I’m Autumn, by the way. So when you’re telling the Administrators about the crazy girl who was trying to climb up to your window, you’ll get the name right.” The grin she flashed him was equal parts mischief and earnestness, and it vanished with her as she scrambled back down the tree.

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"Autumn." he said quietly to himself as he watched the athletic young woman pick her way down from the tree with nimble speed. Half-turning he grabbed his phone and wallet from the desk, scooped his sneakers from the floor and, after checking that Autumn was indeed still engaged in clambering back down the tree, promptly vaulted out through the window.

That act wasn't as reckless as appearances suggest. During the run home, Ravi had quite by default explored some of the physical benefits he enjoyed even if, frustratingly, he couldn't shift at will. Now the youth landed safely, legs flexing a little to absorb the eighteen-foot drop as though he were simply taking stairs four at a time. Even in human form, when he wanted to the werepanther moved with little more noise than a falling leaf. So by the time Autumn reached the base of her tree she found the gorgeous young man standing nearby, standing on one foot as he pulled a sneaker onto the other. He gave her a smile and switched feet, his balance practically balletic as he repeated the process.

"Autumn. A pleasure to meet you." he said by way of acknowledgement, green eyes studying her and appreciating the material. "Ravi FitzCoventry, at your service... until the end of breakfast at least." This last was accompanied by a grin that was equal parts charm and wickedness as he held out his hand for her to shake.

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Confusion etched a pair of fine lines between Autumn's brows as she clasped the hand offered to her with a bewildered expression. You didn't just...? her pale, cerulean eyes seemed to ask as she peered up at him. No, nuh-uh. There's no way, followed the swift response as she shook her head at the impossibility of her own unspoken question. Anyone jumping out a window from that height would've been hurt, at least without training, and even then the impact alone would tear or sprain or pull something. Here he was, though, balancing like an acrobat as he pulled on his shoes. She probably just hadn't realized how long it took to get down the tree again, after getting up.

Her fingers were warm in his, and faintly calloused; her grip was sure and decisive. Autumn's nostrils flared slightly as she caught a whisper of cologne in the morning air. He smelled... expensive.

"Nice to meet you, too, Ravi-Fitz-Coventry," she breathed, her voice slightly huskier than she'd like as she ducked her head, releasing his hand. "You seem pretty mellow about all of this. Do you usually wake up to strange girls in trees outside your window?"

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Renata threw her hands up and went to sit on one of the windowsills, looking into the classroom.

"So there's the janitor," she complained. "Now he's seen it. Guess we'll have to kill him once he brings the rest of the stuff."

At the look several others in the room shot her, she rolled her eyes and added, "Sheesh, I'm kidding! I'm just saying...that thing's gotta go, and the sooner the better."

Abruptly Renata noticed something in the painting she hadn't before.

"What's with the ghosts there? Did you just add those in?"

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Immediately, the eerie young artist seemed to withdraw. Her eyes flickered away from Renata, only briefly pausing at the part of the mural the other girl was referring to before glancing away even from that. She wrapped her arms around herself defensively, repressing an involuntary shudder as her dark gaze studied the ground.

"No. They were there too. I don't think anyone else saw them."

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Mari looked toward Renata and then took two short steps to Frida’s side. “You can’t let them paint it over.” She said in low tones meant for the troubled artist, but not so low that the others couldn’t hear her. “Listen...you painted that for a reason.” Mari turned to the painting, her eyes fixed on the disturbing mural as she spoke. “You came here last night and...and you were scared...and you had to paint this to get it out...and it’s so amazing. I mean. It’s freaky and it’s scary and everything. But look at it. I don’t think I understand everything you put in there. But, I mean, the parts I do understand, like the panthers, it doesn’t matter if other people weren’t supposed to see it or whatever. You were telling the truth when you painted this.” Mari’s accent is more noticeable with her excitement, her speech coming quicker as she tries to find words for her sentiments. Why did this painting matter so much to her, all of a sudden? He was not the light, but he was sent to bear witness to the light. Mari thought, recalling some bit of Bible study. Maybe Frida is like John the Baptist...only she was sent to bear witness to the dark. That was important too. You couldn’t know the light unless you knew the darkness.

“The truth is important.” Mari concluded. She licked her bruised lower lip and raised her eyes in supplication to Frida. “Please don’t let them paint it over.”

__________________

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

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Seeing Frida huddle in on herself, Sean put a strong arm around her shoulders in silent support. They were all teens here - okay, Ms. Dorn wasn't, but her aside (and Hell! She was a fuckin' werecat anyway!) - and all of them had their own problems and issues, legitimate or legitimate in their own minds. But he didn't think any of them had to deal with seeing dead people. That must suck, especially if it comes and goes whenever. There can't be many places were no one has died at some point.

"Well, Frida, they're not here now and we are," Sean said with a confidence he hoped was valid, imparting that confidence on the baroque artist with a tightening of his arm. His stormy grey-blue eyes turned from Frida to look down at the pleading Mari.

"As for the wall, Mari, us paintin' over it won't make it not have happened." Sean's mouth quirked into a crooked, half-grin. "I'm pretty sure none of us will ever forget seein' it and Frida here remembers just about everything. Besides, we're gonna snap pics of it - it won't be lost. Hell, you'll be able to get a copy of it on your phone if you want."

He gaze was serious, almost sober, even as he resisted the teenaged urge to steal look at the soccer prodigy's short-clad legs. This isn't the time- damn! Oh, well. A little young though. "The truth might be important, but I think if that Pritchard Bitch sees this, we won't like what she does because of it. I think she already..." Sean trailed off, giving his a head a shake, then rubbing his brow with the heel of a palm.

Mari's lashes fluttered over her large eyes as she lowered her chin demurely, looking down at her feet, but the way she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the set of her slender shoulders set quite clearly she didn't agree. Under Mari's and Frida's reluctance and against what he considered common sense, Sean began feeling a niggling of doubt.

Sean let go of Frida after giving her shoulder a pat then straightened to his full height as he looked around at the others in the room. "Okay, seems to be some differin' points of view here," Sean said, pitching his voice to cover the entire room and cut through the murmuring. "I saw we vote on it. Now. No debates, just go with your gut and we go from there. Simple enough?" He paused, meeting every eye to make sure they heard his proposal, whether he thought they agreed or not.

"I say, we cover it."

Click to reveal.. ( Vote: Paint v. Reveal 2010)

Yay (Paint over the Mural): 1 (Sean)

Nay (Leave the Mural as is): 4 (Mari, Frida, Ryan, Ms. Dorn)

Get thee to a nunnery (Abstain): 1 (Renata)

Feel free to ignore this Tracking for the Vote if no one agrees with Sean.

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Originally Posted By: Autumn
" Do you usually wake up to strange girls in trees outside your window?"


"Well, I admit it happens less often than I'd like." the green-eyed devil replied breezily as he looked around before giving her a sideways glance and a smile. Something playfully cruel inside him enjoyed her momentary bewilderment at finding him waiting for her. He raised his arms over his head and stretched, sighing with unconscious sensuality. "Mmmm... To tell the truth, after the morning I've had you, Autumn, are a rare breath of fresh air."

"Well... Thanks, I guess." The girl replied with an answering smile, skin feeling strangely (but not unpleasantly, oh no indeed) warm as she felt his eyes on her. She gestured in the direction of 'Central'. "Lets eat?"

"Excellent." Ravi fell into step beside her with an easy straight-backed grace, eyes flashing in the morning sunlight as they rounded Lancaster and headed towards the Quad. The police lines were still ringing the central area, and within their boundaries men and women in white coveralls were going over the ground around the dark stain on the grass. Ravi's eyes lingered on them for a moment, a pang of remorse darkening his expression as he remembered the guard last night...

...blood flowing around his gums, the taste sweet and coppery as his jaws bit deep into the man's shoulder, bones cracking under the terrible power exerted as his claws raked deeply...

He shivered slightly, the reality of what he had done hitting home. If Sylvia-panther hadn't come to dispute his kill, would he have eaten that man? With a slightly green feeling in his gut Ravi felt that was all too likely.

But he was an enemy, a tool of that Pritchard woman. He was mindless and would have done anything she told him to. That could have included hurting Frida, or Renata, or... Mari, even. Just to get at Swan, or to pressure us into handing her over. Who knows what that woman is capable of?

Autumn became aware that her gorgeous companion was staring fixedly at the taped-off crime scene as they walked past it, his iridiscently reflective eyes intent which, coupled with the tautness to his jawline, transformed his expression from wickedly smoldering to... to... Well, it was still definitely smoldering, but she wasn't sure about the other undertone there. Ominously smoldering, perhaps.
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“I am good with wood,” Ahvia said easily. At Rosa and Lucia’s confused expression, she said, “Is that wrong?”

“What… I’m not sure it means what you think it means,” Rosa said carefully. “Um… wood means, it’s a slang term for men’s uh…”

“Penis?” Ahvia said. Thankfully for Rosa’s somewhat shielded mind, Ahvia spoke in her own language rather than English. Lucia mutely nodded as Ahvia continued in English, “What are many trees called then? I thought it wood!”

“Oh! You mean woods!” Rosa said, smiling. Her smile faded a moment later. “Is it really that safe out in the woods?” she inquired.

“I be safe,” Ahvia answered her. “I go in the woods all the time.”

“I think it’s all we have,” Lucia said regretfully after a moment of silence. “Just be careful, Ahvia.” Together, the three girls walked out to the woods and let Ahvia slip away into the cover of the shadows.

“So… what can you tell me about where you were? I mean, you don’t want to tell me the stuff involving other people, but where’d you go?” Rosa asked. Her question came when they were most of the way to the gate, jarring Lucia out of her tired considerations. “I mean… you were gone for a long time.”

Lucia opened her mouth to reply when she heard a call behind her, on school grounds. A strange… person was walking toward them, the expression on their androgynous face annoyed. “You are Lucia. I have seen your picture,” the person told them. “I am Yasu.”

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"I say no, and not just 'cause I don' wanna spend the next day an' a half painting. I just don't see why we need to. It's just a painting. I've seen weirder stuff online and in museums and stuff. I don't really see how this is gonna make anybody flip out except if they just get all creeped out." Ryan shook his head, "There's just no gain to painting over it. Bitchard and Corpseboy aren't going to walk in here, see a blank wall, and say 'Oh, well, nobody painted something weird and disturbing I guess we can stop persecuting students and creeping out the faculty after all.' Fuck that noise. Weird shit IS happening. People ARE doing strange things, acting oddly, turning into cougars, seeing through goddamn walls ... painting over that isn't going to make it all go away.

"So, yeah, I vote no. I'd rather waste my time doing something that might get us an explanation for all this then trying to cover up the elephant in the room."

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Lucia started, then blinked several times. The man? woman? was odd: she could see a person of Asian decent, dressed in a loose shirt and blue-jeans, but she could also see a taller, thinner and duskier version of the person dressed in an old-style vest with a similarly old style shirt and nice slacks with black boots. The shadow of an antique pocket watch could be seen resting in the breast pocket of the vest. She blinked several more times, but she could still see both of them. Her brow knit in confusion as she repeated back tentatively, "Yasu?"

Rosa, on the other hand, had only the Asian version to look at and pointedly asked, "How did you get here so fast? And how'd you get on the grounds? There's like, dozens of police officers around."

Lucia was still shaking her head and trying to dispel the double vision. I need more sleep. Or something.

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Renata blew out through her nose and slipped off the windowsill, holding her hands out to her sides as if trying to force invisible assailants away.

"Fine," she said. "Mari wants to keep it, Frida wants to keep it, Ryan wants to keep it...look, it's no skin off my nose, right? Pritchard's never seen me around you guys. She still has no idea I'm in on this. So truthfully, I don't care what you do with it. I'll make like a nun and abstain."

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"I didn't say I wanted to keep it. It's creepy as fuck, and if we could cover it quickly I'd be all for it. Thing is though that it doesn't change anything if it gets seen and we have better things to spend our time on. You heard Jason, it'd take like four coats to cover and that could take like two days." Ryan hoped he was making his point; two days wasted on painting could be better spent on finding out what the hell was going on.

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"It should stay."

Sylvia had been quiet for a long while, which caused heads to turn when she finally did speak in firm tone. In truth, she'd been examining the massive mural since the little troupe had entered the studio. Her eyes had been drawn to the smaller of the two panthers, it's green eyes seeming to look out of the painting back at her. But once the immediate shock of self-recognition passed, the rest of the work was taken in context.

All considered, it was magnificent. And more to the point, it served as a reminder in case Pritchard or someone else tried once again to suppress their memories. The problem was, that someone else might realize the same thing....

"We should go ahead with Sean's recommendation to make a good photographic record of it, though. There's no telling what the art department - or the Board of Directors - will do with the original, after all, and I'd prefer not to gamble on them leaving it in place."

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Sean had been all gung-ho for covering the Mural. The way he saw it, the less people involved in this whatever-it-was, the better, but the increasing amount of effort being required to paint over it was making him second guess himself. Ryan was right, taking a day and a half to two days painting over it would just draw more attention, not less.

Besides, he wasn't sure he had the heart to crush the pleading in Mari's huge, hazel eyes or resist the resigned, stoic acceptance in Frida's. "We can't destroy Frida's art!" The svelte Freshman urged with a pure conviction that tugged at the heartstrings. "It's too beautiful. Okay, not beautiful-beautiful - well, it is, some at least - but beautiful-impressive. It... it has... soul. You can't paint over soul."

Sean's stormy eyes softened to placid pools of a summer sea. "How can I say no to that?" Sean asked the ceiling rhetorically, a defeated grin on his face. An almost imperceptible tension eased from Frida's posture. "I didn't think it was gonna take so long to cover up anyway. Give me a sec."

Sean pulled out his phone, again, and called up Jason once more. "Uh, yeah. No, weren't not anymore. Don't worry, I'll bring the stuff back to the supply shed, 'kay?" He glanced at the others, his grin turning wry. "I don't think I'm in the Groundskeeper's good-book anymore."

Click to reveal..

Sean stands defeated! The vote goes down in flames.

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Throughout the "vote", Frida hadn't been able to voice her thoughts on the matter. It was too twisted up with her fear of the vision she'd seen, her emotional connection to the artwork, and her concern about people's possible interpretations. Each expression of support for preserving her artwork was like an unexpected surprise, and she glanced momentarily at each of them with surprise and a reserved expression of gratitude. But once it had been decided, she sank quietly down into a seat with an expression somewhere between fear and relief.

"We would have had to scrape the oil off first. It's not actually dry yet, you see. After that it would have ruined the image, so we wouldn't have had to concern ourselves with whether other people could interpret it or not. But we would have had to wait for the remaining layer of oil paint to dry, and primed it, before we could have covered it up with a latex-based wall paint. It would have taken a few hours, perhaps half of the day, but-"

"I'll watch it for you."

Frida stopped mid-sentence, her gaze flickering over to the empty doorway as if she'd heard something. The rest of them followed her gaze, but it was only Frida who saw the young girl standing there. Her dark hair hung in a precise French braid down her back, and small diamonds glittered in her translucent ears. Her eyes were wide and her lips thin, and the well-made jumper was one Frida recognized from past pictures dotting the walls of Dalton Academy, pictures of students during the days of mandatory school uniforms. It was only the linen bandage wrapped around her forehead and stained dark with what the young artist could only assume had been blood that made her look anything less than pristine.

Frida swallowed slightly, standing and taking a step towards the doorway.

"Why? What would it matter to you? You're dead."

"Yes. But my mother was a painter. I like paintings. This one is very good. They're right, you know. You shouldn't destroy it. That would be terrible. I'll watch it for you.. until it's safe. I'll come find you if anyone tries to damage it."

Frida's lips moved slightly, as if she were starting to speak but couldn't quite find the words. Whether it was fright or sorrow or gratitude was hard to tell. But finally she managed to whisper quietly, her voice audible to others in the room only because everyone had fallen to a silent hush, staring at Frida as she stared at nothing.

"Th.. thank you. I would.. appreciate it."

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Mari tore her eyes away from the spectacle of Frida speaking to thin air and looked back at the mural, at the dark and terrible shapes the older girl had painted there. She remembered watching some show on TV with Yani, before her sister had changed the channel back to MTV over Mari’s protests, about tortured artists and the thin line between genius and insanity. She remembered the rich voice of the narrator talking about Van Gogh, not that she could remember much of anything he’d said—she’d been too busy arguing with Yani and trying to keep her sister from wrestling away the remote. There had been that other artist too, the one with the paint drips. Mari had loved watching his elaborate system—the care and precision he took in preparing something that seemed so impulsive and chaotic. Like he was trying to fit his madness into a pattern. But it wouldn’t hold. He was never really in control, Mari thought. What had his name been? Frida would probably know. Potluck. Pollick... It was on the tip of her tongue, but just out of reach.

The lissome little teen felt a blush blooming. She felt the sting of embarrassment, not for herself but for Frida. Pena ajena. Mari wished there were a word for it in English. The room felt suddenly small and stuffy. “I’m gonna just go get a little fresh air.” Mari said quietly, her voice all but disappearing into the awkward silence that Frida had engendered. “I’ll be right outside.” Mari padded past Sean and Ryan to the studio door, resisting her body’s call to break into a run, and held it open just wide enough to slip out of the room.

Outside the air was clean and crisp and the sky was bright and open and Mari breathed in a big lungful of it. She zipped her hoodie closed right up to her collar and turned her head up and watched the clouds tumble by. At least out here she could pretend everything was normal again. If only for a little while.

__________________

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

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