To Force Change (re... boot?...)

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To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Fri Sep 05, 2014 3:06 am

Did someone say sudden urge reboots? no? alright then. im doing this anyway you fuckers.

things go up tomorrow.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by Andrew on Fri Sep 05, 2014 9:26 am

YAY

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Sat Sep 06, 2014 3:17 am

firs part of the............ prologue? i guess. yeah? yeah. yeah.

....yeah.

may be revised who knows

They were yelling again.

15-year-old Esa Fallore, daughter of Annora and Tabor Fallore, half-sister of Baden Fallore, lay in her bed, trying to pretend she could not hear them. Her hair, which most would describe as the color of red gold, appeared to have lost its luster. Her green eyes didn’t seem to shine as brightly as they did before. Her face seemed gaunter than it had been before and her skin had taken on a bit of a pallor; not enough to seem unhealthy, just enough that someone could tell something was wrong. Humming a calming tune, she created a small flame in her gloved palm to distract herself.

This was a familiar action to her, or it had become one recently. When all else failed, her mutatis could not. It was part of her, after all, as was evident in the color of her hair and eyes.

In all honesty it was a pitiful picture. This young noble was lying on her bed, her legs curled up to her chest, her blue silken shirt stained by tears and her cream trousers thoroughly wrinkled. The black gloves that covered her hand, studded with metal half-spheres along the sides, and her green, teardrop-shaped pendant seemed to be the only things that were not somehow changed by the cloud that had fallen over her entire household.

They stopped yelling, and Esa seemed to release a breath she had not been holding.

She closed her eyes and allowed the silence to wash over her, calming her and giving her peace for this precious moment. Hopefully they wouldn’t start again—for goodness’ sake she hoped they didn’t start again.

After she felt the air was safe and the words had settled firmly, she took a deep breath in and sat up on her bed, staring at the door. With a grunt she stood up and walked softly to the door, opening it just a crack and peering through to see if either of her parents were nearby. After she was satisfactorily certain they were not near, she walked out of her room, softly closing the door behind her and moving as silently as she could to the door of her brother’s room.

“Baden,” she whispered, knocking ever so gently, “it’s me.”

She heard a sigh from within the room. The door opened and she stepped in, seating herself on the chair she had sat on many times before. Esa opened her arms and her brother fell into them, crying. She did not care that his tears were getting on her shirt, or that he was gripping her arm so tight it hurt.

Instead of complaining, she closed her eyes and whispered comforting words, rubbing his back and doing the little she could to make her little brother feel better.

In the same land of Aegnara, in the very same city of Morrum in fact, there was another family crisis going on. This one had gone on for a longer time, however, and was of an entirely different matter. Well, perhaps not entirely different, if one were to be technical about the whole thing, but it certainly felt different.

A boy sat on a chair, thinking, a fur-collared black coat accented with blue draped over the armrest. He could be no older than 15 or so, wearing a loose black shirt tucked into his pants, which were also black. The boy’s eyes were an icy blue and his hair, reaching to his chin and curling gently at the ends, was jet black.

This boy’s name was Samuel Delsor.

Samuel Delsor was almost an outlaw. He wasn’t quite yet, because his ‘family’s’ high stance had managed to get him out of the one crime he had been found committing. If they looked hard enough, though, it would be easy to tie him to the other ones for which he had not been caught. Fortune seemed to be with him though; at least in that matter.

However, he had recently been informed that his parents were intending to enroll him in Olaenis Academy of Mutatis, a prestigious school he had heard of before. They were probably trying to keep him out of trouble. At least he could get some good out of it, finally learn mutatis properly. After that, he figured he would break out and wreak some havoc wherever he felt it was necessary.

They were trying to keep him ‘safe’ and get him ‘adjusted.’ Adjusted to what? The fact that they weren’t his real family and whoever his real parents were, they were likely dead? The fact that the government was progressively becoming more and more intrusive in citizens’ everyday life? There was no way they could do that, he thought bitterly to himself.

Someone speaking brought him out of his thoughts. He could not hear the words clearly until he pressed his ear to the door of his room.

“…need extra protection. Maybe an escort.” It was his ‘father’s’ voice, he was fairly certain.

“He’ll obviously object to that,” his ‘mother’ sighed, and he heard a sound he could not identify.

Moving his head away from the door, Samuel mulled over what he had just heard. They intended to restrict him further? It was… he could see why they were doing it, he admitted to himself with a sigh. But it would definitely mess up his plans, which admittedly weren’t really ‘plans’ at all.

His ‘parents’ had pulled some strings and told Olaenis that he had issue with mutatis, effectively excusing him from testing for acceptance. He didn’t have to worry about that at least, but there was nothing they could do about testing later to place him in a certain group. Ah well. As long as he focused… he should be able to keep it under control.

…he should be.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Sat Sep 06, 2014 11:04 am

Ooh, this is good!

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by Andrew on Sat Sep 06, 2014 2:34 pm

*eep*

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Sep 07, 2014 1:13 am

im changing up the cast so if you want to max you can create a character cause that woudl be cool

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Sun Sep 07, 2014 11:39 am

I don't know enough about the story, so no thank-you, but it was a nice offer.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Sep 07, 2014 7:54 pm

i suppose the rest of the prologue will have to wait until bloons revises qan's schtuff then

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Sun Sep 07, 2014 8:39 pm

Suppose so.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Mon Sep 08, 2014 3:12 am

Qan was a child with a troubled past. Despite coming from a wealthy family, his life was riddled with hardships. His younger brother had passed away when he was 10, and the sudden loss cast him in a world of darkness. In school, his grades suffered, but always managed to make it past the years.

here is thing so i can see tomorrow because sleep

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Tue Sep 09, 2014 1:24 am



shit drawing of samuel



better drawing of samuel

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Tue Sep 09, 2014 2:37 am

Prologue

They were yelling again.

15-year-old Esa Fallore, daughter of Annora and Tabor Fallore, half-sister of Baden Fallore, lay in her bed, trying to pretend she could not hear them. Her hair, which most would describe as the color of red gold, appeared to have lost its luster. Her green eyes didn’t seem to shine as brightly as they did before. Her face seemed gaunter than it had been before and her skin had taken on a bit of a pallor; not enough to seem unhealthy, just enough that someone could tell something was wrong. Humming a calming tune, she created a small flame in her gloved palm to distract herself.

This was a familiar action to her, or it had become one recently. When all else failed, her mutatis could not. It was part of her, after all, as was evident in the color of her hair and eyes.

In all honesty it was a pitiful picture. This young noble was lying on her bed, her legs curled up to her chest, her blue silken shirt stained by tears and her cream trousers thoroughly wrinkled. The black gloves that covered her hand, studded with metal half-spheres along the sides, and her green, teardrop-shaped pendant seemed to be the only things that were not somehow changed by the cloud that had fallen over her entire household.

They stopped yelling, and Esa seemed to release a breath she had not been holding.

She closed her eyes and allowed the silence to wash over her, calming her and giving her peace for this precious moment. Hopefully they wouldn’t start again—for goodness’ sake she hoped they didn’t start again.

After she felt the air was safe and the words had settled firmly, she took a deep breath in and sat up on her bed, staring at the door. With a grunt she stood up and walked softly to the door, opening it just a crack and peering through to see if either of her parents were nearby. After she was satisfactorily certain they were not near, she walked out of her room, softly closing the door behind her and moving as silently as she could to the door of her brother’s room.

“Baden,” she whispered, knocking ever so gently, “it’s me.”

She heard a sigh from within the room. The door opened and she stepped in, seating herself on the chair she had sat on many times before. Esa opened her arms and her brother fell into them, crying, his dirty blond hair incredibly messy and his sky blue eyes indistinguishable from the tears. She did not care that he was crying all over shirt, or that he was gripping her arm so tight it hurt.

Instead of complaining, she closed her eyes and whispered comforting words, rubbing his back and doing the little she could to make her little brother feel better.

In the same land of Aegnara, in the very same city of Morrum in fact, there was another family crisis going on. This one had gone on for a longer time, however, and was of an entirely different matter. Well, perhaps not entirely different, if one were to be technical about the whole thing, but it certainly felt different.

A boy sat on a chair, thinking, a fur-collared black coat accented with blue draped over the armrest. He could be no older than 15 or so, wearing a loose black shirt tucked into his pants, which were also black. The boy’s eyes were an icy blue and his hair, reaching to his chin and curling gently at the ends, was jet black.

This boy’s name was Samuel Delsor.

Samuel Delsor was almost an outlaw. He wasn’t quite yet, because his ‘family’s’ high stance had managed to get him out of the one crime he had been found committing. If they looked hard enough, though, it would be easy to tie him to the other ones for which he had not been caught. Fortune seemed to be with him though; at least in that matter.

However, he had recently been informed that his parents were intending to enroll him in Olaenis Academy of Mutatis, a prestigious school he had heard of before. They were probably trying to keep him out of trouble. At least he could get some good out of it, finally learn mutatis properly. After that, he figured he would break out and wreak some havoc wherever he felt it was necessary.

They were trying to keep him ‘safe’ and get him ‘adjusted.’ Adjusted to what? The fact that they weren’t his real family and whoever his real parents were, they were likely dead? The fact that the government was progressively becoming more and more intrusive in citizens’ everyday life? There was no way they could do that, he thought bitterly to himself.

Someone speaking brought him out of his thoughts. He could not hear the words clearly until he pressed his ear to the door of his room.

“…need extra protection. Maybe an escort.” It was his ‘father’s’ voice, he was fairly certain.

“He’ll obviously object to that,” his ‘mother’ sighed, and he heard a sound he could not identify.

Moving his head away from the door, Samuel mulled over what he had just heard. They intended to restrict him further? It was… he could see why they were doing it, he admitted to himself with a sigh. But it would definitely mess up his plans, which admittedly weren’t really ‘plans’ at all.

His ‘parents’ had pulled some strings and told Olaenis that he had issue with mutatis, effectively excusing him from testing for acceptance. He didn’t have to worry about that at least, but there was nothing they could do about testing later to place him in a certain group. Ah well. As long as he focused… he should be able to keep it under control.

…he should be.

Now we move on to someone else, whose family suffers from yet another problem. A different problem.

There was a large, imposing house in the city of Morrum. Just glancing at it made you feel so very small compared to the grandness of the building before you. Certainly, you would think, whoever lived in there must be very, very wealthy and very, very happy.

And yet, Qan Darkblithe was alone. He was not alone in a physical sense; maids bustled around him as he sat with his knees drawn up to his chest on the couch, going from here to there and filling the room with their chatter.

His straight black hair fell over bright, almost glowing golden eyes and unnaturally pale skin. An overly long black shirt almost entirely covered his hands, which were holding tightly onto his white pants, wrinkling them. He didn’t care.

He may not have been physically alone, but Qan felt alone. It had been five years and there was still something wrong in the air, something missing, a hole in his family that was supposed to be filled, that needed to be filled.

He kept falling in. He kept falling in, and they didn’t have the time or the energy to spend keeping him out; just barely keeping him from falling all the way to the bottom. He wondered what was at the bottom sometimes. Maybe death. Maybe him.

But that was a foolish hope and Qan knew that if they let him hit the bottom it would only end in pain.

Qan’s mother had told him when he was eating breakfast that they were considering enrolling him at Olaenis, a very prestigious school. “It’ll challenge you,” she said softly, kindly. Those words fell on ears that didn’t really care. “Are you okay with going there?”

He made a grunt of approval and finished his breakfast.

Throughout his life, Qan had been told that he was special. Unique. People knew this from the moment they saw him; the moment they took in golden eyes and jet black hair. Their eyes would widen and they would be unable to resist asking—

“You’ve got opposites?”

He would nod without looking at them, having become accustomed to the question. Sometimes he wondered whether he could get one of those enchantments on a necklace or something, one that changed your eye color or your hair color. Every now and then he would think it over, wonder what color he would choose. Maybe he would give himself green eyes. Maybe he would do this. Maybe he would do that.

But those enchantments costed a lot, and he didn’t want to ask. If he did, he knew they would just brush him off anyway. “You’ve got a gift,” they said.

A gift. He barely got by in school and he had memorized the exact form of his mother’s fake smile when she would say how proud she was of him.

A gift. Every now and then he would look down at his hands when he had a small wound—a little nick, a papercut, something like that. He would use his mutatis and let the light swirl around his hands. Qan would stare, and stare, and stare, and the light would do nothing.

His light could do nothing.

His light could not have saved his brother.

This black hair, these golden eyes—these were not gifts.

Esa’s high standing, her mother and father’s wealth, these were not gifts.

Samuel’s parents, his being accepted into a family that cared for him, these were not gifts.

But, eventually, these three would be proven very, very wrong. For they were about to attend Olaenis Academy of Mutatis, one of the most famed schools in Aegnara together.

its dONE

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Tue Sep 09, 2014 9:28 am

I love it!

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by Führer Egg Roll on Fri Sep 12, 2014 3:04 pm

Me like.

oωo

Don't ask.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Wed Sep 17, 2014 1:31 am

i was gonna write but it dIDNT HAPPEN so have some FAMILY HISTORY~~~~~~

and other world shit

its like. early 1800s? some shit like that. because mr. mande def has a gun and he is BADASS

aNYWAY about 100 years ago a great war happened between Aegnara (which is a cOUNTRY rule by a monehdjkhfd monarchy) and Limnia (also a monarchy) known as the WAR OF CONQUEST which Aegnara eventually won making it a lot bigger than Limnia.

this war was like. HELLA BIG so it had some HELLA DAMAGES OBV

so the trhee families became nobility around the time of the WAR OF CONQUEST (which you must read in your head in a really dramatic voice)

the darkblithe family is remembered for the original qan darkblithe, also black-haired and golden-eyed as our qan is. he was a great demutator and general whose magic was said to be able to BLOT OUT THE SUNNNNN for his enemies and give only his troops light to see

the delsor family is remembered for a spy known as 'foxtail' b/c she had grey eyes and red hair it makes sENSE kinda who infiltrated the Limnia forces

the fallore family is remembered for a historian Pont Fallore who managed to keep the libraries from being totally destroyed and from forgetting all their history as a result

yeah

*finger shotguns*

the chances of this being relevant is not at all but i wanted to so

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Wed Sep 17, 2014 9:39 am

The dramatic voice definitely assisted the sound of this.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Wed Sep 24, 2014 1:13 am

in which mr mande, a guy i like a lot, is introduced. again, technically, but yeah

Chapter One

A man sat on the couch of Esa’s living room, his legs crossed, his eyes flickering over the assorted papers that she knew told everything about her performance at school. Tabor looked at him expectantly, waiting. Esa looked at the teacher from Olaenis curiously, trying to read his face for any sign of what this ‘Mr. Mande’ thought of her.

His hair was very short and a light brown, just a few shades lighter than his skin, with stubble dusting his chin. The eyes scanning her files were a dark blue, almost black, in fact. He wore a long black overcoat (odd, considering the cold of winter was now giving way for spring, and the school season) and a rather plain white shirt and brown trousers.

Mr. Mande nodded thoughtfully and looked up towards Esa, unnerving her slightly. She tapped her fingers against her leg and waited for the teacher to speak.

“Well,” he began, “Esa’s performance is certainly satisfactory in her previous schools. I would just like to request a little display of her abilities—and her brother’s, of course, afterwards.”

“Of course,” Tabor said too quickly, betraying the fact that he was nervous. Annora had agreed to this only reluctantly and was watching with her fiery eyes narrowed. His skin seemed unhealthily pale so that he was a stark contrast from his wife’s darker complexion. He twisted a dark brown lock of hair around his finger, golden eyes flickering nervously back and forth.

Annora leaned forward from her chair, tucking black hair behind her ear. Esa stared at the ground, pretending she could not feel her mother’s gaze on the back of her head.

“Given your variants, I believe we should probably go outside,” Mr. Mande said, placing the papers on the table and standing from his chair. He picked up the bag by his chair and glanced over at Esa’s parents. “Would the courtyard be alright?...”

“Yes,” Annora replied, standing as well. Tabor glanced at her with uncertainty before nodding, slowly.

“Very well then.” Mr. Mande gestured for Esa to stand, which she did, rather reluctantly.

“The courtyard is this way,” she said with a slight nod of the head, leading the teacher into the courtyard. It was empty at this time of day; the gardener had already tended to the roses on the opposite side of her, Mr. Mande, and her parents.

“Now, first of all, I’d like to see how powerful your fire is.” He opened his bag and pulled out a cloth, which he quickly dampened just slightly with his water before placing it on the ground. “Try to ignite it.”

Esa nodded and squatted down, narrowing her eyes to focus on the cloth. Her mother had always taught her that mutatis was not about making things, but about changing things. She had to focus on changing the water to fire—or the air to fire—not on making fire. First and foremost changing was the most important part of mutatis. Closing her eyes for a moment, Esa took a breath and stretched her hands out.

After a few seconds, a small flame ignited the corner of the cloth closest to Esa. It flickered slightly and Esa bit her lip with concern until it settled—well, settled relatively, for a flame. Mr. Mande knelt down and quickly doused the flame.

“Next up is your accuracy,” he said, placing the cloth back in the bag and taking out a glove and a thin little piece  of wood. “Don’t take the glove as an insult, it’s a necessary precaution. I can of course douse the fire, but I’d rather not it come to that. Neither would Olaenis, for that matter.” He smiled and Esa could not help but think that this man smiled too much and there was too much softness in his voice and his words—there was something off about him. She stood, allowing her hands to fall by her sides.

“Go ahead,” Mr. Mande said, thinking her pause was one of uncertainty. Well, it was not. Esa rolled her shoulders back and extended her right hand, visualizing the air above the wood suddenly turning into bright white flame, flickering and eventually catching onto the tip of the wood until the thing was set aflame.

A wide grin spread over her face as it did exactly what she imagined it doing, letting her hand drop and turning to Mr. Mande, asking for approval. He nodded, letting the piece of wood burn until it was ashes easily blown away by a light breeze and then stowing his glove back into that bag of his. “Very good, Esa.” You bet it was good, Esa thought to herself.

“Next up, your earth. Quickly now—catch!” Mr. Mande exclaimed, pulling out a small ball from his bag and throwing it high into the air. Esa jumped instinctively, her necklace flying out from under her shirt and into the air, but at the same moment, a pillar of earth suddenly seemed to appear from thin air, widening at the top to form a bowl-like shape. The ball landed and rolled in the pillar and Esa allowed herself to breathe.

She bit back the urge to say something rude to the teacher for surprising her like that as she pushed the pillar into the ground with her mind, quickly snatching up the ball. However he just had a smile on his face that she had half a mind to smack off.

With a sigh she decided to let it go. “So,” she said instead, with just a taste of self-confidence in her voice, “How’d I do?”

“Very well, Miss Fallore,” he said, still beaming, as if nothing could put a dent in that smile. It still unnerved her somewhat. “We at Olaenis would be delighted to have you attend our school.”

Annora stepped forth from the shadows. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Mande.”

He bowed deeply. “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Fallore. Now, if I am not mistaken… I am here to test your son Baden as well?”

“Ah—yes,” Tabor said quickly. “I’ll go fetch him at once, Mr. Mande.”

Esa sighed because she wanted to be rid of the way that smiling man unnerved her so, but then realized she did want to stick around to watch Baden. Ah well. Moral support, she supposed.

Her brother would be less likely to be bothered by the perpetual smiling, since that was some sort of habit he’d picked up, probably to hide the fact that he was terrified of everything. It was less annoying on Baden because it didn’t seem like there was an ulterior motive behind it. It just seemed like he was nervous.

Esa did not trust this man and she hoped for the love of all that was good in the world she would not have him as a teacher, she thought as she walked over and stood next to her mother. With a smile,

It went by smoothly, even if Esa had to blink multiple times after the bright flash of light Baden had displayed. After that, Mr. Mande said farewell because he had other business to attend to in Morrum and her mother politely pretended she did not want him to go. Her father acted like he was afraid something would jump out and kill him at any moment, which Esa had to say amused her. It was cruel, she admitted, but it was funny.

She did wonder what ‘other business’ a teacher from Olaenis would have to attend to in Morrum. More testing, perhaps? Hmm. Who would he be testing?

As it so happened, the very person Mr. Mande was going to be testing next was not at all happy about the testing. Rather, he lounged lazily on the couch in a manner befitting a cat more than a boy that simply could not be comfortable. He blew out a breath of air in a half-hearted attempt to blow his black hair out of his face.

“Qan, the teacher is going to be coming soon,” his mother said nervously, wringing her hands and smiling that smile that he could perfectly picture in his head.

“I know,” he said with such a hard edge to his voice it shut her up for the time being. Good. He closed his eyes and sighed, questioning whether to apologize and eventually deciding against it. She’d live.

A knock at the door made him crack his eyes open a little. That must be the teacher. How very interesting. Qan closed his eyes again.

He heard the click of his mother opening the door. “You must be the teacher from Olaenis, yes?” A soft confirmation. “Come in, come in, we’ve been waiting for you—not too long, of course, no, you’re right on time!”

“And you must be Qan?” The teacher’s voice was surprisingly soft and surprisingly audible and forced him to open his eyes.

“Yes.” The word was short, quick. Dismissive. The teacher just smiled and nodded.

“I’m Mr. Mande, here to test you—well, you already know that, of course. So we might as well get down to business. It’s fairly quick, anyway.”

Qan shrugged in a way that clearly showed how much he didn’t care. “Yeah.” He sat up properly (incredibly) and looked straight at the teacher with eyes that he figured looked at least slightly intimidating, but failed to wipe off that smile. That was surprising.

“First off, we had best start with your major variant,” Mr. Mande said in a conversational sort of tone. “So,” he said, reaching into the bag by his side and pulling out a match, a glove, and something which Qan could not identify before it was lit on fire. It burned bright, almost blindingly bright. The teacher stared at him with that damn smile. “Make this dark.”

Qan almost laughed but held it back. He looked at the flame lazily, dancing back and forth, and suddenly it was not flame but blackness, blackness that seemed to suck the light out of everything else in the room until he relented and suddenly the flame was back again.

The teacher’s smile widened. “Alright then.” He put his things back in his bag and placed his hands in his lap, though Qan could tell he was hiding something. “Give me your brightest light.”

Qan rolled his eyes and held a hand up lazily, focusing on making the air above his fingers suddenly burst into light. He’d never been a fan of light, because funnily enough he’d been told that he would be best not looking into bright things because his eyes were ‘delicate’ or something. He didn’t really care, to be honest, and almost in defiance stared into the bright light forming above his fingertips.

At least until his vision was suddenly covered, throwing him off and causing him to brighten his light instinctively until he could see it. Immediately the thing covered his eyes left and he blinked, looking at the teacher with clear confusion.

“A test!” he said as if it were nothing. Qan sighed softly and shrugged. Whatever. “Which you have quite evidently passed, Mr. Darkblithe.”

“Thank you,” Qan said in a monotone voice. His mother repeated the same words with considerably more feeling.

“I’ll be on my way now, thank you very much,” Mr. Mande said with a bow. “Thank you for your time. I will look forward to seeing you at Olaenis.” That damn smile was on his face again. Qan hated it and hated the teacher too because something was off about that smile. He didn’t know what, but something was off.

Mr. Mande walked outside with a smile on his face, thinking over the day’s events. In particular there was one thing that stood out in his mind he was still mulling over, considering explanations for what he had seen.

Perhaps it was nothing, just a standard piece of jewelry. A family heirloom or something. And yet the design… it just reminded him so much of those necklaces. The ones you could change your hair or eye color with.

But she had clearly manipulated both variants, so likely it was just a gift, perhaps from her mother. Maybe in fact it was reflecting her variants. Maybe.

Mr. Mande shook his head and decided it was nothing, really. He had better things to be worrying about, like that boy the headmaster had saddled him with. “You’re a top researcher of mutatis,” Coyle Dane had said with that tone of voice. “You should be able to help him.”

Should be able to help an outlaw who had only been saved by his family’s wealth? Hmph. The teacher climbed into his carriage and sighed. Hopefully, at least, the boy wasn’t too dangerous. He certainly wouldn’t assault a teacher.

Right? Alden Mande tapped his fingers against his leg nervously. Right.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 05, 2014 3:34 am

worth noting the time of the wAR OF CONQUEST has been changed to a little before our main characters' birthdays

so pont fallore is esa's grandfather, etc., etc.

is this plot important? possibly

Chapter Two

Samuel Delsor breathed and stared up at the ceiling.

He was still lying in bed (quite comfortably), the only problem being the fact that there was hair in his mouth. Quickly he spat it out and sat up, rubbing at his eyes groggily. Packed bags lay at the foot of his bed and his clothes were already laid out on top of them.

It took him a while to get the motivation, but eventually he swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood, picking up his clothes and walking over to his door, opening it and heading to the bathroom.

Something lingered in the back of his head, niggling at him. Oh, he realized suddenly. I’m leaving today.

Samuel sighed and closed his eyes for a few moments to think about that. He hadn’t exactly come up with a plan to get out of that place. They were trying to keep him safe, but it was a useless endeavor. They were trying to keep him quiet, but that would never work. He grinned at himself in the mirror.

Anyway, he would be okay without a plan for now. After all, he wasn’t going to leave at the beginning of the year. He’d have to learn how to properly control his mutatis so it didn’t blow up in his face embarrassingly.

His hand raised to his nose absentmindedly and traced the scar along it. As soon as he realized what he was doing, he jerked his hand away. Samuel hated that scar.

After he had gotten changed, he found that some servants had taken his bags, so he fetched his coat and put it on. As he stepped outside he realized it was a good decision; the cold made his breath mist in the air. He exhaled and looked around.

A black stagecoach stood in front of the gates. Some man, a teacher, presumably—possibly the ‘escort’ they had given him—was standing by the door, tapping his foot impatiently.Wrapping his coat tight, Samuel walked forward. The moment the teacher heard his footsteps, his head whipped around to face Samuel.

He smiled.

Samuel frowned.

“Samuel Delsor. Correct?” Samuel nodded, averting his eyes. “I’m Professor Mande, a teacher at Olaenis, and…” Mr. Mande paused. “…your escort.”

“Hmph.” Sidestepping the teacher, Samuel got into the stagecoach and sat down promptly.

Off to a great start, the professor thought, and followed after the boy.

“We’ll be travelling with three other students,” he said once the carriage began moving, trying to spark a conversation. Samuel just nodded and Mr. Mande decided to let silence fall. It looked like neither of them was exactly pleased about their being forced into each other’s company.

After a few minutes of silence, the coach came to a stop. “Ah—here we are. Just wait inside.” Mr. Mande exited the coach quickly. Samuel looked after him for a few moments but went back to staring at the wall. Soon after, Mr. Mande entered the coach again, this time with another boy, one with black hair and—golden eyes? Mr. Mande introduced him as Qan Darkblithe—Samuel recognized that name, but the boy’s variants seemed more important to him.

Samuel could not help but stare. Qan’s eyes flickered over to his and he immediately looked away, coughing softly. Qan rolled his eyes in turn and sat across from the other boy.

Samuel considered bringing up Qan’s variants but figured that the dark-haired boy must get that a lot and decided against it. So, for the next few minutes, silence descended upon the carriage once again.

This time when Mr. Mande returned to the coach he brought two with him, a blond boy with gray eyes, Baden, and a red-haired girl with green eyes, Esa. Both sat next to each other on the same side as Samuel, Baden wedged between his sister and the other boy.

They were twins, apparently, but something in the movement of Esa’s eyes as Mr. Mande mentioned that made Samuel suspicious. Maybe it was nothing but maybe it was a lie. Hadn’t he heard the maids gossiping about the Fallore family?... What, exactly, they were saying he couldn’t recall, but Samuel still had the feeling something was off.

“It will take two days to get from Morrum to Olaenis,” Mr. Mande announced. “We ought to get there in the afternoon. Tonight we’ll stop at an inn in Comnan.”

“Comnan?” Baden asked.

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Well...” the blond boy trailed off for a moment. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

Samuel’s eyes flashed with a hint of a hidden secret. He’d been to Comnan before. He’d been found in Comnan before. With only enough supplies to last the journey, he’d walked there over the course of a few days.

Against his will, he touched his nose again.

“Of course not. If you go into the wrong neighborhoods, then you could be at risk of having something stolen. But there are wrong neighborhoods everywhere, even in Morrum.”

Samuel disguised his touch as scratching, his eyes glancing from one person to the other to judge their reactions.

Qan didn’t seem to care, staring out of the window with listless eyes. Baden made a face—he didn’t seem totally convinced, but he seemed calm enough. Esa leaned forward, clearly curious.

“Do you know exactly what happened, Professor?” she asked. Samuel’s eye twitched.

“Not exactly,” the professor replied. “I know as much as you do—someone broke into the town hall at night and destroyed important files.”

“Do you know who?” Esa leaned further forward. Baden leaned forward as well, apparently as curious as his sister. Samuel purposefully looked away and out the window as Qan was doing, though he could not keep his eyes from glancing back towards the teacher momentarily.

“Why would I? I’m a teacher, not a policeman.” Mr. Mande waved dismissively. “That’s enough talk about crime. Trust me, you needn’t worry about that. The inn is perfectly safe.” He smiled warmly.

“What is it like at Olaenis?” Samuel blurted out. The teacher paused and thought for a moment.

“What exactly do you want to know about it?” Mr. Mande said, slowly, a bit uncertainly.

He couldn’t say the security because that would just be plain idiotic. Perhaps the building? No, that would be odd and the professor would definitely suspect something. “The people.”

“Well, typically students are enrolled for the full four years. There are about…” Mr. Mande paused, and looked upwards, as if the answer was on the ceiling. “Two thousand students at Olaenis. It’s a rather small school, actually. Everyone stays in one of many dormitories, there are one hundred student ones, I believe.”

After taking a breath, the professor continued. “Students are taught by dormitories—they are your classmates for the first semester practically guaranteed. Then you are tested again and potentially sorted into a new dormitory. There are, ooh… more than a hundred teachers at the school and many cooks and servants and the like.”

That hadn’t really been what Samuel was looking for, but he nodded anyway, pretending he was actually interested. Qan’s eyes stayed glued to the window, while now Esa leaned forward.

“I heard that Olaenis has a laboratory for research of Mutatis…” she trailed off, eyes asking her question.

“Yes, the academy is rather proud of it, in fact,” Mr. Mande said with a laugh. “I’m one of the researchers allowed to conduct experiments there. It’s an excellent facility and always kept in excellent condition.”

“Is it true that youhave Magistrae there?”

At this Qan finally looked away from the window. Magistrae. They were mysterious creatures. Some legends said they were the souls of powerful demutators left behind after death. Some said they were created when enough of one variant of Mutata collected in one place. The truth was, no one really knew. The only fact that could be agreed on was that picking a fight with a Magistrae was going to end in your death.

The professor breathed in through his teeth. “Well… I’m not supposed to tell you…” Baden made a face. “…but, well…” His voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. “We do.”

“What do you do with them?” The blond boy asked excitedly.

“That I definitely can’t tell you.” Mr. Mande smiled. “Maybe if you become a researcher at Olaenis you’ll find out.”

Qan turned back to the window. Samuel rolled his eyes and followed the other dark-haired boy’s example. There was nothing he could learn from the Fallore’s incessant questions.

He did wonder what exactly the rumor was he’d heard the maids gossiping about, though. Something about Tabor, the father of the two teenagers sitting next to him. All the maids had whispered and giggled and said things like “I can’t believe it!” and “He is very attractive” and “I feel bad for the woman.”

It didn’t really matter, though. Chances were he wouldn’t even see the two throughout the school year. So why should he be concerned?

The truth was, the thing he should have been concerned about was one he would have no clue about.

It was disrespectful to gossip about someone’s death, after all, even if it was never properly confirmed.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Tue Oct 21, 2014 1:21 am

sorry this updates infrequently

Chapter Three

“Baden.” In response, the fair-haired boy just groaned and shifted a little. Someone poked at his face. “Baden, if you don’t wake up, I’m leaving you here. Alone.”

At this, he reluctantly opened his eyes and glared at his sister, who raised an eyebrow in response. “Fine,” he moaned, voice rusty from lack of use for the past few hours. With a grunt, he sat up and yawned.

“Well, I’m leaving, enjoy your night in the carriage,” Esa called out, exiting the carriage the moment she saw Baden was awake. Her brother laughed and followed after her quickly. Mr. Mande, Samuel, and Qan had already gotten out and were standing in front of a large building, presumably where they were staying for the night.

A sign hung in front of it, proudly declaring in gold lettering that this was the ‘Winder’s Way Inn.’ It was fairly simple in appearance, a multiple-storied building with shuttered windows along every room. From the door, which was slightly ajar, light spilled out into the relative darkness of the street outside.

Mr. Mande checked to see that everyone was there and nodded, then turned around and began to walk inside. He stood by the door and held it open while the four students went inside before entering the inn himself.

The air was warm, with a scent wafting through the place that seemed to be a mix of fresh bread and cooking meat. Mr. Mande went up to the innkeeper and talked with him quickly. The innkeeper was a fairly short man, with bright green eyes and a curly head of golden hair. He smiled easily at Mr. Mande and gestured towards the hall to the group’s right.

“Well, you’ve come just in time for dinner, luckily,” the students heard the innkeeper say. Other than that, the rest of the professor’s conversation with the man was inaudible. Samuel mentally rolled his eyes—did they think that he was going to attempt escape even before he had set foot at the school?

Dinner passed by pleasantly and, for the most part, uneventfully (except for the part where the professor had brought up politics without thinking about it first and Esa had to quickly change the subject when Samuel began to get heated up). Afterwards, the students were shown to their rooms, which were comfortable enough. Esa and Baden had rooms right next to each other, predictably, and began to whisper to each other through the walls.

Eventually, Mr. Mande tired of it and told them to cut it out, so they did, rather sheepishly. He grumbled about something and then headed back to his own room to go to sleep.

Esa and Baden started whispering again and, eventually, their travelling companions decided they would just have to ignore it because it wouldn’t stop any time soon.

At some point during the night, Qan gave up on sleeping altogether. After staring at the ceiling for some amount of time (he didn’t know, he wasn’t a living clock), he finally sat up and made a little light to let him see.

The room was fairly uninteresting and, though he could see stars twinkling outside of his window, they didn’t really interest him. With a sigh, he decided to go over anyway and see if maybe there was something else he could watch from the chair next to his window.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t exactly anything interesting outside his window. It overlooked other buildings, and that was it. Unless you found the lanterns casting a golden glow on the streets outside ‘interesting,’ you would have reacted like Qan did and groaned at the complete lack of anything to do.

The black-haired boy opened his window just a bit and found the early spring air was fairly humid and not much colder than his room. Wrinkling his nose, he stuck his head out and looked around—maybe he could spot something this way.

As he turned to the right, he did spot something. Another black-haired boy stared back at him, their head also sticking out of the window.

Samuel blinked, surprised, then decided that well, he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon, so he might as well do something with his time. “Hey,” he said, just loud enough that he was sure Qan could hear him.

For a few moments, golden eyes just looked at him with confusion. “…hey,” Qan finally replied, sounding unsure of himself.

Samuel cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. “You’re named Qan after your, uh… granddad, right? The first Qan Darkblithe?”

“Well, yeah. Who else would I be named after?” Qan laughed humorlessly. “They decided on it after my variants had settled and I wasn’t switching hair colors every ten seconds. ‘Oh, look, he’s got the same variants as his grandpa, let’s name him after him!’” He sighed and rolled his eyes, gesturing vaguely with his hands as he spoke.

Better than not actually being part of your family, Samuel thought resentfully. Though he cared enough not to vocalize his thoughts, he didn’t care enough to hide his expression. Qan frowned just slightly as he saw Samuel make a face.

Realizing Qan was looking at him oddly, Samuel quickly said, “Do you think they know we can hear them?”

“What, the Fallore twinss?” Qan asked without expecting an answer, pointing back in their general direction. “Mr. Mande told them to quiet down, so they probably do know. Unless, maybe, they think that now, they’re quiet enough that we can’t hear them anymore.”

“We can hear you too,” a muffled voice snapped from behind the wall—Esa. Qan rolled his eyes.

“Well then, stop talking. You’ve been keeping the rest of us from sleeping,” Samuel said.

Although the sound was soft, he could’ve sworn he heard someone scoff at him. “Fine then,” Esa retorted. “But you two better quiet down as well.”

“Deal,” Qan muttered, then turned to Samuel to make a face that said ‘well, that’s that, then’ before retreating back into his room. After shutting the window, he made his way into bed again and, eventually, found sleep.

*~*~*~*

“It’s time you all wake up,” a voice called from outside Baden’s door. He groaned loudly in response. “That’s not optional, unless you want to be left behind, Mr. Fallore,” chided the professor.

Protesting incoherently, Baden sat up, his hair sticking out everywhere in a fairly ridiculous fashion. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then turned to the wall and said, “Esa?”

She mumbled something in response that Baden couldn’t make out.

“Come on, wake up, idiot.” He rapped his knuckles against the wall and grinned.

“Baden, don’t,” she threatened, but her voice was too sleepy to take her seriously. “I will… I’ll hurt you. Somehow.”

Baden laughed, then clambered unsteadily out of bed. He blinked blearily at his reflection in the mirror, spat a few strands of hair out of his mouth, then roughly pulled a comb through his hair, wincing as it caught on a few tangles. Quickly, he splashed his face with water and rinsed out his mouth, then dried himself off and prepared to yell at Esa again.

“Esa—” he got out before Esa rudely cut him off.

“Quiet, Baden,” she grumbled. “Mr. Mande already woke me up.”

He grinned even though he knew she couldn’t see. “You don’t sound that awake.”

You’ll be awake when I punch you in the face, you ingrate,” she told him. Baden knew the threat wasn’t serious and instead just chuckled and turned his attention to changing into his day clothes.

Once he was dressed in navy blue trousers and a white shirt, he checked on his hair again and then exited his room to find Mr. Mande standing there, sitting in a chair and sipping at a cup. A tray with cups of tea was balanced somewhat precariously on the armrest.

“Um, Professor Mande…” Baden gestured towards the tray.

“Oh! Yes. Would you like some?” Baden nodded and the professor quickly handed him a cup, balancing the tray with one hand and indicating that Baden could add anything to his tea that was on the tray. The blond boy shrugged and sipped at his tea, waiting for his sister to emerge from her room.

First, however, Samuel came out, his coat draped over his arm. He glanced at the tea and barely hid his derision, but accepted a cup anyway.

Finally, Esa and Qan emerged at about the same time, Esa still tugging a comb through her unruly hair. Baden grabbed a cup off the tray to offer to her, which she gratefully accepted. She had to set it down quickly as she pulled her hair up into a quick, but fairly neat ponytail.

“So, are we heading down for breakfast, then?” Her eyes glanced from Baden to the professor in one quick motion.

“Yes, we are,” Mr. Mande said, distractedly offering Qan a cup of tea. The black-haired boy was simply ignoring him and after a few more seconds of the failed attempt the professor sighed and gave up. At this point Qan finally picked up the cup and Mr. Mande just barely hid his annoyance.

“Well, let’s go then,” Baden blurted out, keenly aware of the fact that his stomach was empty. Esa gave him a incredulous look and he sheepishly shrugged back.

“I guess we shall,” Mr. Mande sighed, picking up the tray and standing rather abruptly. He led the children downstairs to the dining hall and sat back, looking as if he’d just given up on keeping them in order, as they ate their breakfast.

He did step in to keep Esa from eating all of Baden’s breakfast, though. The blond boy’s heartbroken look was just too much.

*~*~*~*

By the time the sun was high in the sky, everyone was inside the carriage, which was bumping along the cobblestone streets quite noisily. After a certain point, Mr. Mande said, “Ah! We’re leaving the city now. We should be at the Academy within an hour or two.” He flashed a smile at the kids, who reacted, for the most part, indifferently.

Both Samuel and Qan were staring out the window listlessly, though once Qan caught Samuel’s eye and sarcastically mouthed, ‘Think an hour or two is long enough to drive this guy insane?’ Samuel only barely managed to keep himself from laughing out loud, just a fraction of a chuckle escaping. Mr. Mande looked at him oddly, but passed it off as nothing.

The Fallore ‘twins’ were, not unusually, talking with each other. Baden gestured at the animals he saw outside the window, while Esa would tell him with an exasperated voice that “that’s just a normal bluejay, Baden, for mutata’s sake” and he would say “it’s different, though” in such an excited tone that his sister did not have the heart to contradict him.

Finally,when Baden was just about nodding off, the carriage came to an abrupt stop. Mr. Mande straightened up suddenly and smiled as he looked out the window.

“We’re here!” he exclaimed, opening the door and allowing the four students to exit before he did. Proudly, he gestured at the building in front of them.

“Welcome to Olaenis Academy of Mutatis.”

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Tue Oct 21, 2014 12:19 pm

Yay!

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Mon Nov 03, 2014 3:28 am

ITS HERE

Chapter Four

The Academy was a mass of buildings; tall, imposing structures of rather nondescript grey concrete. They rose high above the travelers, the very highest spires breaking through the clouds above. A cobblestone path connected each of the buildings, and one in fact led down from the main building (the Academy itself) to the group.

Mr. Mande stood there, turning around to face the kids. “For the next year, this will be your home,” he exclaimed joyously, then paused. “However, we aren’t exactly inside yet. Come along.” He turned back around, waving the students along, and walked ahead.

Samuel surveyed his surroundings. An iron gate stood between them and the Academy, surrounded by a brick wall. The place was further surrounded by a dense forest, which Samuel did not want to try his luck with.

The gates opened as the professor walked forward, and Samuel had to hurry to catch up with the rest of the group. He could study his new prison later on.

Qan found the school fairly uninteresting; it was, well, certainly a thing, that was… there… but there was nothing that caught his eye. The place wasn’t exactly an architectural masterpiece; it was structurally sound, yes, but not aesthetically pleasing by any stretch of the imagination.

Mr. Mande guided them along the path into the main building, the two oaken doors opening from the inside. Assorted elaborate tapestries draped across the white walls, and red velvet carpet ran down the middle of the wooden floor. The ceiling reached high above them, so far up it could’ve well been the sky.

“We’ll be going into the auditorium first,” Mr. Mande remarked without looking at the group behind him, “where the headmaster will make a speech. Afterwards you’ll be sorted into your dormitories. Don’t get too settled in—you’ll likely be changed after testing.

“Anyway, your guided tour will have to wait until tomorrow. Classes won’t start for, oh, another week or so. More groups of students are still arriving.” As they approached the auditorium, Mr. Mande finally turned around. “Any further questions?”

“No,” Samuel said immediately, with such finality that if there had been any questions, they were forgotten. The professor gave him an odd look but said nothing, instead leading them into the auditorium.

A stage rose at the other end of the spacious room, a podium front and center. Banners draped across the edge displayed a myriad of colors and symbols, intertwined in complex patterns. A man, with dark blue hair and eyes, strode confidently up to the podium with quick steps. A grey-haired woman followed him a few steps behind.

Once he had reached the podium, the blue-haired man exchanged a few words with the woman beside him, then spoke in a clear voice (presumably amplified by the woman). “Students!”

The grey-haired woman winced and gained a look of concentration as the blue-haired man continued. “Welcome to Olaenis Academy of Mutatis! I am Coyle Dane, the headmaster of the academy. We are honored to receive you all.”

“Here at Olaenis we aim to teach you to the very best of our ability at a personalized level, aiding you wherever you are weakest and encouraging your strengths. As such, do not be surprised if you are assigned a private tutoring session with one of the teachers—or even researchers—at the academy.

“You will be sorted into dormitories randomly today. For the following week, you will reside there. Don’t get too comfortable though,” Coyle added with a chuckle, “because you’ll likely change dormitories after testing takes place next week.

“I wish you all the best of luck at your tests and hope you enjoy your time at Olaenis.” The headmaster smiled a winning smile and everyone clapped politely. Then, Coyle turned abruptly and left the stage. The grey-haired woman coughed softly and then spoke, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

“Your escort will inform you which dormitory you have been assigned to.” With that, she scurried off after the headmaster. Mr. Mande seemed to be slightly startled by that announcement, but quickly recovered. He patted his coat pocket and the momentary expression of shock left his face.

“Ah yes, I do have them. Thank Mutatis.” He sighed and pulled out several pieces of paper, folded up. The students’ names were scrawled on them, and he handed Esa’s to Esa, so on and so forth, for evident reasons. “This functions both as a map and to inform you of your testing time and your assigned dormitory. Any questions?”

“What about our things?” Qan asked, holding the paper in his hands, showing no interest in unfolding it.

“They’ll be brought to your dormitories shortly, don’t worry,” Mr. Mande replied. He eyed Samuel warily as the boy studied his map. Samuel’s lips quirked in the very slightest smirk. He’s planning something, the professor thought to himself, but what had he expected, really?

“…seven,” Esa muttered, turning to her brother. “Baden?” she asked expectantly.

“Seven as well,” he said with a grin, showing her his paper gleefully. His sister chuckled.

“Twelve,” Qan announced to nobody in particular. Samuel made an unreadable sort of face and tucked his paper back into his pocket.

“Samuel, I’ll escort you… and Qan too, I suppose, to Dormitory Twelve. Esa, I trust you and Baden will be able to find your way on your own?” Mr. Mande glanced nervously from Samuel to Esa, but only Samuel seemed to notice.

Esa nodded, folding up her map and electing to use Baden’s instead. He held it up, studying it for a second, then turned to face another direction. “It’s this way, right, Mr. Mande?” the boy asked somewhat uncertainly.

“Yes. Good.” Mr. Mande smiled back and turned to face the other direction. “Twelve is this way,” he said, beginning to walk off with just a quick look in the two boys’ direction. Samuel had to admit his obvious discomfort was amusing. Qan just looked at Samuel with a slightly confused face, as if expecting an explanation. Samuel, quite predictably, gave none, Qan’s confusion merely adding to his amusement.

They walked without speaking, the only noise their muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor and the murmurings of other groups around them. Mr. Mande occasionally glanced back towards the boys as if they could disappear at any moment. In return, Samuel would raise an eyebrow and Qan would ignore both of them, since no explanation for their unusual behavior seemed to be forthcoming.

After a few minutes, they finally arrived at a double door. To the right was a golden sign with Dormitory Seven clearly written on it. Mr. Mande sighed in relief. For the time being, Samuel Delsor was going to be off of his hands.

“Well, here we are,” he proclaimed, pointing towards the door. Samuel and Qan both walked past him, Samuel looking at him with what was definitely a smug expression. Damn that criminal.

Mr. Mande pivoted on his foot and walked the opposite direction. Thank Mutatis he would be able to spend some time without the possibility of Samuel Delsor running away because of his inadequacy. The worrying about the possibility of the boy leaving suddenly was still there, but at least when they were apart he couldn’t be blamed for whatever happened.

Damn Coyle Dane for giving him the responsibility of keeping an outlaw imprisoned.

Samuel broke into a smile as he walked past the professor. He was driving the man slowly insane and it was very enjoyable. Qan looked at him with a mix of confusion and exasperation as they walked through the doors into the dormitory.

They found themselves in a central room of sorts, a fireplace on the opposite wall and an assortment of chairs arranged in a rough semicircle around it. Within the semicircle their luggage was sorted, each piece with a nametag. There was a multitude of desks around the area, each with its own set of writing tools. Samuel made a beeline for the nearest chair and sat down with a contented sigh, then a chuckle. Qan sat himself on the next chair, searching Samuel’s face for answers.

Samuel just grinned at him.

“…what are you doing?” Qan asked after some time, his golden eyes accusatory.

“Driving the professor insane,” Samuel replied, still grinning.

“Why?”

Samuel paused. “Because,” he offered lamely, not wanting to tell the truth. Qan gave him a skeptical look.

“Right,” he said with obvious sarcasm. Samuel rolled his eyes.

“It’s none of your business,” he stated firmly. Qan sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was likely never going to get an answer out of Samuel. However, he could come up with possible explanations however much he liked.

*~*~*~*

“And then we turn right here, and… aha!” Baden grinned triumphantly seeing Dormitory Twelve printed clearly on the sign. “And you doubted my map-reading abilities!”

“Looks like your head isn’t as empty as I thought it was,” Esa retorted, ruffling Baden’s hair playfully. He elbowed her in the side in return and she automatically recoiled. With a huff, the blond boy neatened his hair slightly as Esa opened the door, then followed her into the dormitory.

“What if we don’t end up in the same dorm after testing?” he asked. Esa paused and thought it over.

“Don’t worry. Can’t you survive on your own, or do you need your sister to chase the scary monsters away?” she teased.

“I was worried that you’d do your usual thing, except this time there’s no maids to clean up your mess. I’d rather not you end up buried under a pile of junk.”

Esa laughed and pushed Baden away from her, her brother laughing as well. She turned serious quickly, though.

“I think they tend to put siblings in the same dorm,” she said. “But if we don’t end up in the same one, we’ll share classes, and we can meet up with each other outside of class anyway. Don’t you want to be independent of me anyway? That way I can’t bully you all the time.”

“I think you just don’t want to feel inadequate compared to my masterful mutatis,” he retorted. Esa made a face.

“Come on, that’s not nice.”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry. But it’s true,” Baden whined. Esa sighed. It was, truthfully—Baden tended to have more… ease with his mutatis than she did. However, after much comparing and butting heads they had determined that, while Baden easily called upon his mutatis, Esa’s mutatis was more powerful. She had a wider range, and no matter how strong Baden made his wind it couldn’t blow out her fire or knock over her pillar of earth. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but that was the way things were.

“Anyway, let’s get unpacked, yeah?” she remarked, gesturing towards the pile of luggage in the middle of the main room. Baden smiled and nodded.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Mon Nov 03, 2014 1:31 pm

Ah, so Samuel is the resident asshole.

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by Führer Egg Roll on Mon Nov 03, 2014 2:15 pm

That was a shock, actually. I like it!

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by you're not my supervisor on Mon Nov 03, 2014 3:55 pm

Same here!

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Re: To Force Change (re... boot?...)

Post by no mom its ironic on Mon Nov 17, 2014 10:55 pm

basically, samuel and mr. mande try to out-asshole each other

where's qan? next chapter is where qan is

Chapter Five

Baden was rather rudely awoken by Esa slapping him on the face with a pillow. He yelped in surprise and flailed wildly until his sister relented, moving back a few steps. She was laughing, practically to the point of tears—Baden was nowhere near as amused.

He spat out feathers and dragged a hand through his unruly hair, giving Esa a glare. She just grinned back at him, hands on her knees.

“What was that for?” Baden asked, an accusatory tone to his voice. He propped himself up on his elbows while Esa held one hand out, trying to regain her breath.

Swiftly, she wiped away tears from her eyes and straightened. “I’m waking you up, idiot,” she gasped out, still catching her breath.

That was waking me up?” he grumbled in reply. Esa reached out to tousle his hair, but he slapped her hand away easily. “What are you waking me up for anyway?”

“Lunch,” Esa replied, turning around and walking away at just the right speed that her brother couldn’t be bothered to follow after her and yell some more. Baden instead decided to stand up and head for the nearest mirror, bringing a comb with him.

Once he had gotten his hair into a semblance of order, Esa poked her head into the room. “You are aware that I can and will leave without you, right?”

“You can’t read maps at all,” Baden quipped back.

“I’m sure I could find somebody to guide me.”

“Yeah?” Baden looked at her with raised eyebrows.

Esa rolled her eyes. “Just hurry up, okay? Half of the people here have left already.”

Someone outside said, “She’s lying!” and Esa, in turn, gave them a glare.

Baden smiled. “Okay, I’m ready, Esa. And hungry. So… uh… wait, where’s my map?”

“For the love of mutata, Baden,” Esa muttered, handing Baden her map. “We are going… here.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got it.”

“Well then get on your way then, slowpoke!” Esa shot back. Baden just grinned at her and started walking, his sister standing a moment to sigh in exasperation before following after him.

*~*~*~*

Mr. Mande stepped into dormitory twelve with a considerable amount of trepidation. Samuel smirked at him, face hidden behind a book. He shut it quietly and looked up at the professor, who sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Samuel,” the professor said with a resigned sort of voice.

“Yes, professor?”

“Look, it’s obvious neither of us are going to enjoy the… measures the headmaster decided to… employ.” Mr. Mande selected his words carefully, and was quite purposefully avoiding looking at Samuel.

“No,” Samuel agreed. He smiled innocently.

“So,” the professor continued, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, “how about this—”

“No,” Samuel repeated. The professor glared at him.

“I was going to propose that you not give me any trouble and in turn, I personally tutor you.”

Samuel blinked. “And what, exactly, does that deal hold for me?” he hissed.

Mr. Mande smiled. This in itself was not unusual, because he seemed to smile out of habit—well, not out of habit, but he smiled often. More than often, even. No, this smile was different.

His smiles seemed to be similar to most other people’s in many ways; sometimes they expressed genuine happiness, sometimes they were more of a grimace, sometimes they were sad, sometimes they were untruthful and obviously so. Many times they seemed to have some sort of ulterior motive lying behind them.

This smile was smug, prideful. He had information.

“Perhaps it would be best to speak about this in a more private setting,” Mr. Mande said, still smiling.

Samuel stood, perhaps too swiftly, betraying his surprise. “Fine,” he spat, tossing his book onto a nearby table. Mr. Mande’s smile widened. He gestured for Samuel to follow him and the boy begrudgingly did so.

They walked for several minutes in complete silence, apart from the sound of their shoes on the floor. Finally, Mr. Mande halted in front of a door. “This is my office,” he said, gesturing towards the door.

Samuel decided to glare at him before he entered the room, just because. Mr. Mande just smiled.

The professor shut the door behind them. Immediately, Samuel whirled on him.

“So what do you think that deal has for me, huh? What incentive?”

“I am a researcher of Mutata, Samuel,” Mr. Mande said. He sat in a chair languidly, still smiling—a smile that made Samuel want to punch him. The boy clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, watching the professor carefully.

“Yeah?”

“A highly well-known researcher, in fact. And I know the signs of… mutatis gone out of hand.”

Samuel glared at him.

“You taught yourself, didn’t you? In fact, I’d go so far as to say that’s how you got that scar.” Unconsciously, Samuel’s hand reached up to touch his nose. “Well?” The boy realized what he was doing and his hand moved away sharply.

“…well, what?” Samuel said, voice shaking almost imperceptibly.

“I think I’ve provided enough for you to seriously consider accepting my proposal.” The professor tapped his fingers against his thigh, waiting. Damn him.

“What would make being tutored by you any different than being tutored by another teacher?”

“As I have said before, I am a well-known researcher of Mutata. I know things that the other teachers in this school do not know, and normally only teach last-year students.” Mr. Mande leaned back in his chair. “This is why the headmaster assigned me to you in the first place.”

This is also why you should accept my proposal, was what he meant, hidden between double meanings.

“Damn you,” Samuel said.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “Well, you may express any opinions as you so wish. But I would rather know what you think of my deal.”

“Fine,” Samuel muttered.

“Pardon?” Mr. Mande leaned forward. Mocking me, Samuel thought bitterly.

“Fine,” he repeated, then added, “I agree.”

Mr. Mande stood. “I thought you would say that. Now, I believe that lunch is being served right now.”

“I don’t have a map.”

“Yes, I need to escort you anyway,” Mr. Mande sighed. “Well come along then, Samuel.” He headed out the door.

Samuel glared at the professor’s back before reluctantly following after him. However, a question suddenly came to him.

“So when did you figure this all out?”

“Hmm?” The professor started and glanced back at Samuel, then recovered quickly, snapping, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” in an irritated tone.

“You seemed awfully nervous earlier on. Must’ve been very recent then. Maybe you only received the files while we were all unpacking?” Samuel thought it over. “It makes sense, anyway—the students arriving with the deliveries.”

The professor said nothing in return.

“Well? Come on, you forced me into agreeing with your deal with logic, so I am allowed to annoy you with it.”

“I said you don’t give me any trouble, didn’t I?” the professor snapped.

“Oh, this is trouble? What would you think if I actually tried to escape this place?” Samuel smirked as Mr. Mande narrowed his eyes.

“You wouldn’t,” Mr. Mande said with certainty, but Samuel detected just a hint of nervousness. “You can’t learn by yourself, anyway; anyone can see what that got you.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of Samuel’s nose and it took all of his self-control not to touch the scar.

Taking care not to betray his own uncertainty, Samuel’s smirk grew into a grin.

The professor knew he shouldn’t have expected it to be so simple.

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